I threw my hands up. “Hey. It’s not like I wanted to do this.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Then why are you doing this?”
“I gave David a crack at it,” I said. “He was the one who got stumped. Ultimately, I don’t care who solves it. But I can’t let this case go cold. I won’t let Andrew’s murder go unsolved.”
My mother sighed. “I guess this is what I get for raising a highly independent daughter.”
“I know you are worried about me—”
“What mother wouldn’t be?”
The concerned look on her face really tugged at my heart strings.
“Look. It’s not my intention to make you worried sick. I just want Andrew’s killer to be brought to justice,” I said.
My mother couldn’t disagree with that. The only thing she could argue with was my involvement in the case.
I could tell that she wanted me to give up investigating. However, unlike when I was a kid, she couldn’t just send me to my room or tell me what to do. What my mom could do, though, was try to persuade me to stop investigating by other means. Namely, by making me feel guilty.
Elizabeth got choked up. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
My heart sank as I looked into my mother’s eyes. This wasn’t just manipulation at work. I could tell that this was genuine concern pouring out of her. Never had I felt more torn. Naturally, I was sympathetic to the worry that my mother was wrestling with. But as I weighed that against the possibility of Andrew’s case going cold, my yearning to catch the killer outweighed the turmoil my mom was experiencing at the moment.
“I know you aren’t on board with this, but it’s just something that I need to do,” I said.
Fear was all over her face. “Just be careful. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”
My emotions swelled. “I’m doing my best to stay out of danger.”
I gave my mother a big hug. When the time came for me to pull back, she didn’t want to let go of me. As much as it pained me to do so, a few moments later, I said good-bye.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It took me nearly the entire drive over to the south end of town, but I finally got my emotions under control as I turned right onto Melissa Wilcox’s street.
Her redbrick rental townhome was halfway down Cherry Street. There was an old-growth maple tree in the front yard that gave her place a generous amount of shade. I saw a blue compact car in the driveway, so I felt confident that Melissa was home. Imagine my surprise when I knocked a few times on her front door and received no answer.
I began to question myself. Had I read the situation wrong? Was she out for a walk? Perhaps one of her friends had picked her up and they’d gone somewhere—explaining why her car was still in the driveway even if she wasn’t home. The most logical explanation to me was that she was at home and was just refusing to answer her door. I prayed that wasn’t the case.
After waiting a few moments, I gave her door one last round of knocks.
Thankfully, she finally opened the door—although not all the way. Melissa was a tall, thin woman in her late twenties with an angular face, long blond hair, and green eyes. I found her outfit choice to be peculiar. When I was just hanging around the house, my go-to was a T-shirt and some yoga pants. I definitely did not put lipstick on. Melissa was wearing a navy-blue cocktail dress and a deep-red shade of lipstick.
The only way her clothing choice made any sense to me was if she was headed out. The question became, where? Before I could get an answer to that, I had another hurdle to jump over.
The confused look on Melissa’s face made it quite clear to me that she couldn’t figure out why I was on her doorstep. After all, we weren’t friends, and during her time working at the chocolate shop, I had only spoken to her in brief spurts.
Sensing that she was about to ask me what was behind my visit, I was determined to get the first word in.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
Just like I anticipated, my question put her right back on her heels. Unfortunately, she wasn’t thrown off for long. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t long before she looked at me with suspicious eyes.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” she replied. “As a matter of fact, I don’t even know why you’re here.”
So much for avoiding that question. I had only succeeded in delaying it. There was a serious confrontational streak to her. It was important to try to get her to warm up to me.
“I just want to talk to you,” I said.
She remained wary. “Why me?”
“I know you and Andrew were close. You must be going through a lot right now.”
“What do you mean, we were close?”
Getting her to drop her guard was proving to be an insurmountable task. That was especially troubling, given the fact that I hadn’t even broached the topic of her affair yet. Before I did so, it was imperative that I made one last attempt to calm her down.
“I was just saying that you two had a good rapport. That you were friends,” I replied.
Melissa was no longer on high alert, but she still wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy with me, either.
“It’s terrible what happened to him,” Melissa said.
“It has been a really rough few days,” I replied.
Just as I seemed to be making progress, she clammed up again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand that the wound is fresh, but I was just hoping you might have some helpful information.”
She squinted with confusion. “Why me? And what kind of information?”
“Well, you worked for Andrew. Do you know anyone who might have wanted harm to come to him?”
“I would prefer to leave that sort of speculation to the police.”
I couldn’t figure out how she was managing to stay so restrained. It would be like pulling teeth, but I had to get more out of her. At the same time, I had to walk a delicate line. While obtaining insight was crucial, I didn’t want her to explode at me.
“Just so you know, other people haven’t been so tightlipped,” I said.
A look of curiosity came over her face. “What are you talking about?”
“People have been saying some unsavory things about you.”
She stared me down. “What kinds of things?”
“That you and Andrew were having an affair.”
Melissa snarled at me. “Did Leah tell you that?”
“It doesn’t really matter who told me,” I replied.
She got even more fired up. “It was her, wasn’t it? Like Leah should talk. She had more reason to kill Andrew than anyone.”
How quickly Melissa’s mood had switched. She had been keen on leaving the speculating to the police. Yet now she was all too happily pointing the finger of blame at Leah.
I had some bad news for Melissa. “Leah has a verifiable alibi.”
Melissa became deflated.
I turned the tables on her. “From what I hear, the same cannot be said for you.”
She shot me a glare. “Are you accusing me of murder?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just trying to find out the truth.”
Melissa looked highly offended. “I didn’t do this.”
I peered deep into her eyes. “I didn’t hear you deny that you and Andrew were having an affair. That gives you a motive.”
“No.”
“An affair is one of the oldest motives in the book.”
Melissa shook her head. “Normally, I would agree, but Andrew and I had stopped seeing each other.”
“Because Leah found out you were together?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. It just wasn’t working out between us.”
“A bitter breakup gives you even more of a motive,” I said.
“There was nothing bitter about it.”
“So you’re telling me that you two had an amicable breakup?” I scoffed. “Come on. That’s an oxymoron.”
Melissa’s v
oice began to crack. “It’s the truth.”
It was time to pull out the information I had obtained from Paulie Milton. “Then why did I hear that you and Andrew had a heated argument in the alleyway behind the chocolate shop just a few hours before he was murdered?”
An accusatory look came to her eyes. “Did Leah tell you that, too?”
“That part is irrelevant,” I said. “What I want to know is what you and Andrew were arguing about in that alley.”
“Like I said, we were on the outs.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about this so-called amicable breakup of yours?”
Melissa became defensive. “It was amicable.”
“Let’s say I believe you. There’s one more problem. What about the fact that you told me you two had stopped seeing each other before the night of the murder?”
I could see the gears spinning in her head. “Right. We had.”
“What were you arguing about, then?” I asked.
“I’d rather not discuss this.”
She tried to close the door on me.
I stopped her. “Maybe you’d rather discuss it with the police.”
Melissa groaned.
“What were you two arguing about in that alleyway?” I asked.
“My job.”
“Did he threaten to fire you?” I replied.
She remained quiet.
“So much for an amicable breakup,” I said.
When Melissa opened her mouth with a scowl on her face, I had a feeling she wanted to give me another earful about how I had gotten her breakup wrong.
I called her out. “And yet you still insist that you don’t have a motive.”
“That argument was hours before the murder,” she said.
“So what, you expect me to believe that you happened to calm down between then and the time that the murder took place?”
Melissa nodded. “Yes.”
I gave her a critical look. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
The stubborn look on her face made it clear that she was determined to cling to her flimsy argument. Instead of hitting the same point again, I switched things up.
“If you really did calm down, you were the only one who was able to manage that feat. I mean, days after Andrew’s death, Leah was still so upset about you having an affair with her husband that she fired you.”
Melissa threw her hands out. “That speaks to Leah’s motive, not mine.”
“Only Leah has an alibi,” I said. “Not only do you have no one to verify your whereabouts for the time of the murder, but you’re the only suspect who was seen arguing with the victim shortly before the murder. If that isn’t enough, you’ve actually been standing here trying to convince me that you were able to cool your temper down.”
She cringed. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so good—”
“You’re right. It sounds terrible.”
“But it’s the truth. You have to believe me.”
I stared her down. “That’s the problem. Not only do I have a hard time believing you, but you’ll have serious difficulty convincing anyone else of that.”
She folded her arms. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Luckily, I knew exactly where to go next. “Do own a pair of these earrings?”
I showed her a photo on my phone of the pink earring that had been found at the scene of the crime. As she looked at the picture, it was her facial expressions that intrigued me the most, rather than her actual answer. That was because I just assumed that she would deny recognizing the earring. After all, she had denied everything else.
No matter what words came out of her mouth, her body language could betray her. That was why I peered deep into her eyes.
A look of disgust came over her face as she drenched her response in sarcasm. “Gaudy, much?”
“Is that a no?” I asked.
“Of course it’s a no,” Melissa said. “The only person I know who has awful enough taste to like an earring that ugly is Leah Stewart.”
As frustrating as it was to admit, Melissa appeared to be telling the truth. Either that or she was a better liar than I thought. While the earring was a dead end when it came to Melissa, plenty of suspicion still clouded her.
I was eager to ask her some more questions. “Melissa—”
She interrupted me. “I don’t have anything else to say to you.”
“Wait. We’re not done here.”
Melissa glared at me. “Maybe you didn’t understand me. I’m not saying another word to you.”
Before I had the chance to ask her another question, she closed the door on me. Undeterred, I tried to talk to her through the door, but Melissa ignored me. When it became clear that there was nothing I could do to draw her out of her house, I walked back to my car and left.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The whole time that I headed back to my car, I was in shock over having a door slammed in my face. Going into this investigation, I knew that the suspects’ emotions were running high, but I hadn’t completely prepared myself for the hostility that I was faced with. As I got my bearings back, I was confronted by a surprise of a different sort.
A fierce hunger came over me. My stomach rumbled so loudly that it became impossible to ignore. I had been able to keep all of my emotions at bay until that point, but my appetite could be ignored no longer.
Suddenly, all thoughts about the case evaporated. My mind became completely fixated on food. With more suspects left to question, I wanted to power through, but a serious brain fog set in. My blood sugar had crashed and couldn’t recover until I grabbed something to eat.
Luckily, I knew just the place for a quick bite. Even better, it was close by. I drove the ten blocks to Redwood Street, where my favorite sandwich shop was located. It was a place where the company was just as good as the food.
My friend Shannon ran the place. She greeted me with a big smile as I entered. Unlike most days, when I gladly made small talk, getting some food in my belly took priority. The good news was that I didn’t even have to look at the chalk menu board behind the counter to know exactly what I wanted.
Shannon’s bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on a baguette was a favorite of mine, and I saw no reason to mix things up now. The one addition I always made was for her to throw in some avocado. It added a delicious touch that never failed to delight my taste buds.
I ordered the sandwich and waited impatiently, glancing around the shop to distract me from my hunger. Shannon’s place had a number of interesting touches that separated her business from the usual sandwich chains. The back wall of her shop was lined with a cartoon mural of Treasure Cove that included each of the touristy highlights. Treasure Beach was included, as was the town square, Founders Park, Main Street, Treasure Forest, and the Montgomery lighthouse.
Not to be outdone, another wall in the shop had a smattering of framed photos featuring the handful of celebrities that had stopped into the shop over the years. There was ample blank space left on the wall, mostly because famous people did not come to town that often. In addition, of the few who actually did, some were vehement about retaining as much anonymity as possible. That didn’t stop Shannon from remaining optimistic that one day she would be able to fill that entire wall with celebrity photos.
The centerpiece of the place were the sandwiches. Her menu was displayed on a big board that hung behind the front counter. One of the things that made Shannon’s shop special was that she didn’t just make sandwiches. She also served a dash of reverence with a side of history. Each of the menu items had a special nickname.
There was the Abraham Johnson—a ham-and-cheese sandwich on rye bread named after the founder of Treasure Cove. Not to be outdone, there was the Lance Carlson—a turkey club named after a professional surfer who had grown up in town. Of course, there was also the Edna Smith—a Reuben sandwich that Shannon had named in honor of her grandmother. The sandwich I a
lways ordered had been named after the captain of the Triton–a fishing vessel that had famously sunk a few miles off of the coast.
Sandwich monikers aside, I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into my meal. Thankfully, I had not come during the middle of her lunch rush, or I would have had to wait an uncomfortably long time.
Shannon was able to plate my food in less than seven minutes. That was one of the perks of arriving during the lull in traffic between lunch and dinner. The minute my order was ready, I didn’t hesitate to take a bite of my sandwich. As expected, I was not disappointed. The comforting taste brought a smile to my mouth.
When I began to devour the sandwich in short order, my friend let a sarcastic remark fly from the other side of the counter.
“I guess you hate the sandwich, huh?” she joked.
I took another bite before replying with a crack of my own. “Oh, yeah. It’s terrible. I don’t know how you stay open serving food this awful.”
The playful one-liners continued. “You know me. I try my best to disappoint the customers. Especially my regulars.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job of it,” I joked.
We shared a few more laughs in between me polishing off the rest of the sandwich.
When I had taken my last bite, she sent one more zinger my way. “It’s a shame you eat so slowly. You really suffered your way through it.”
I dropped the sarcasm and let the truth be known. “I needed protein. It was getting pretty bleak there for a minute.”
Even though I had made quick work of the sandwich, my meal wasn’t quite done. I popped open the bag of potato chips that came with my order and dug in.
Shannon was confused. “What’s going on? It’s not like you to come in so ravenous.”
I sighed. “It is just one of those days.”
“I hear you. Life knows how to throw some surprises at you sometimes.”
“Usually when you least expect it,” I replied.
Shannon gave me a deadpan response. “Of course. What would be the fun otherwise?”
“I’m not sure that I would call this fun.”
“What would you call it?”
I groaned. “A real pain.”
Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set Page 96
