Sharpe Shooter (Cozy Suburbs Mystery Series Book 1)

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Sharpe Shooter (Cozy Suburbs Mystery Series Book 1) Page 16

by Lisa B. Thomas


  “How do you know Galt didn’t tell me to write it?” Mark asked defensively.

  “Because it was an amateur move. He wasn’t trying to lie. He just wanted to get his book published. But you, on the other hand, had no problem with it. That’s why you showed up at my house, to put this letter with the other documents I was going through. I’m guessing that you saw the thank-you note from Aunt Cora on my desk and got spooked, knowing it was the same stationery.”

  “Son, is this true?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes. But I was only trying to speed up the process. I thought what Galt said was true—at least it sounded true.”

  Cora wagged her finger at her nephew. “How could you think your own cousin would have done something like that?”

  He didn’t answer, looking down at his feet. “I should have gotten different stationery, but I wanted it to look old.”

  “Good try,” Deena said. “But it wasn’t old enough. Remember, I know about vintage stuff. Something like that would have yellowed a great deal more. Maybe even have had paper mites. But that’s not what gave it away.” She read the opening of the letter aloud. “Dear Mom and Dad.”

  “That’s not Matthew,” Cora said. “He always called us Mama and Papa.”

  “I know. I read that in his letters to you.” She looked at Cora. “He was a good son.”

  Cora’s smile revealed the first sign of relief since Matthew’s body was identified back in June. She turned back to Mark. “So you were the ghost that kept showing up at night. Shame on you for scaring an old woman like that.”

  Mark hung his head and mumbled something that might have been an apology.

  “Richard, I want to change my will. I’m afraid your son won’t be getting any of my money. It will all be going to your daughter Gloria, Deena, and Russell. It’s not a fortune, but I bet it’s more than you would have gotten from that New York shyster.”

  It was Mark’s turn to pale and pall. He stood up again.

  “Sit down,” his mother ordered. “I want you to hear everything.”

  Deena sat staring into the distance, trying to come up with the right words. All eyes were on her now.

  “Deena,” Gary said gently.

  She took a deep breath and turned toward Cora. “There was a woman who worked with Matthew. She had a very jealous boyfriend. The boyfriend was married, and he thought she was seeing Matthew behind his back. It wasn’t true though. He was also afraid Matthew might tell someone that he was cheating on his wife.” She covered Cora’s hand with hers.

  “It wasn’t Katherine, was it?” Cora asked.

  “No, this was after he called off his engagement to her,” Deena said. “This man saw them together at the diner that night and probably followed Matthew and got him to pull over somehow, maybe pretending to have car trouble, flashing his lights…something. It was pouring rain, so Matthew took off his glasses and left his belongings in the car. He grabbed the raincoat the woman had left behind at the diner to cover his head and was probably forced into the car. The man drove him out to that remote field.” She paused. “He covered his body with the raincoat.”

  “Do you know who that man is?” Richard asked.

  “We have an idea, but he’s been dead for years. From what we heard, he probably found out he had killed an innocent man and began drinking heavily. He died in a car wreck.” Deena looked at Russell who nodded his head.

  “So he wasn’t wearing the raincoat like the sheriff’s office said?” Lucy asked.

  “No. It was probably just lying on his body.”

  Everyone sat quietly trying to make sense of the senseless act. Deena pulled the little address book out of her bag and handed it to her aunt. Cora clutched it to her chest.

  “So my son didn’t do anything wrong? He wasn’t a criminal?”

  “No. In fact, he was very well liked and respected.” She squeezed her hand. “It’s still a tragedy of course, but at least you have answers now.”

  “Bless you for all you have done. Richard, I want you to drive me to the cemetery tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to rest.” She turned back to Deena. “I want to give you something.” Helping her aunt up, they walked into the bedroom together.

  “Open the trunk for me, please.”

  Deena was surprised she was getting a rare look into the secret stash. She lifted the heavy lid and looked away, trying not to be too nosy.

  “There’s a box in the bottom left corner. See if you can find it.”

  She reached under the folded uniform and retrieved a cardboard box. “Is this it?”

  “Yes. Open it.”

  She removed the lid and found a beautiful old camera inside. She looked up at her aunt.

  “Frank brought that camera back from Europe and gave it to Matthew. It was his most prized possession. We found it in the closet of his apartment after he disappeared. Now I want you to have it.”

  “I know this is a family treasure, and I will be sure to take care of it,” Deena said, turning it over in her hands.

  “I know you will, dear.”

  She recognized the Leica camera and Zeiss lens as expensive. She had never held one before and admired it like a jeweler examining a fine diamond. She opened the film compartment and saw that it was empty except for a small scrap of paper. She glanced at it and slipped it in her pocket. After putting the camera back in the box, she closed the trunk lid and stood up. “Do you want me to help you into the other room?”

  “No. I think I am just going to sit here and rest.”

  Deena hugged Cora and then walked back to join the others. Mark was still slunk down in the chair with his arms folded. She actually felt a little sorry for him.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mark,” she said. “The important thing is that we now know the truth.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  They agreed La Abuela’s would be the perfect place to celebrate, so the trio headed back to Maycroft. It was early, so they got a table in the bar and ordered margaritas, snacking on chips and salsa.

  “Here’s to a job well done,” Gary said raising his glass.

  “Poor choice of words since I still don’t actually have a job,” Deena said as she sipped her drink. “I can’t really write a story and leave out all the juicy details.”

  “Well, Labor Day is right around the corner—”

  “Don’t even say it,” she warned her husband. “I’m done writing those articles.”

  He laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Russell stared at the television over the bar as SportsCenter recapped the previous night’s games. “I’m glad they didn’t ask for every little detail,” he said.

  “Sometimes less is more I guess. Aunt Cora just seemed relieved to know Matthew wasn’t murdered because of something he had done. I guess that was good enough for her.”

  “From the beginning, you said you wanted to help her get closure,” Gary said. “You did that.”

  Deena looked at Russell. “I’m more worried about you, big brother. I don’t want you to end up alone and cynical like Mark.”

  “That won’t happen. I have Cliff and Maggie.”

  “Hey, I just thought of someone who is about your age and single,” Deena said. “Estelle Fitzhugh.”

  He turned to look at his sister. “Mark would like her. She’s loaded.”

  Deena looked over to see Lloyd Pryor walk up to the bar and speak to the bartender. He turned around and saw her. “What are we celebrating?”

  “Just the end of a very long summer,” she said and introduced him to Gary and Russell.

  “Rhonda told me you were investigating your uncle’s death. What happened with that?”

  “It’s a long story, and not one I can write for the newspaper.”

  “Well, I’m glad I ran into you. I was thinking about calling you in a few weeks. I need someone to cover the political beat, especially with local elections coming up. The sheriff’s race in Perry is going to be a hot one.” Deena choked on a chip and reached for
a glass of water.

  “Really,” she managed to say.

  “These kids on my staff think voter fraud has something to do with American Idol. One of the guys actually called Rick Perry the President of Texas.” The bartender returned with Pryor’s lunch order. “I need someone with some sense. Think about it and come by to see me next week.”

  Watching him leave the restaurant, Russell looked at Deena and asked, “Did that really happen? Did you just get a job at the newspaper?”

  “I think I did.” She smiled and shook her head in amazement.

  “You see,” Gary said, “good things happen to good people.”

  She leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek. It had been a long journey, but she felt like she had learned some important lessons about life and about herself.

  “Check out this play,” Russell said to Gary. They both turned their attention to the sportscast.

  Seeing that the boys were pre-occupied, Deena reached into her pocket for the slip of paper she had found in Matthew’s camera. She read it again and then folded it up. Holding it over the red glass candle on the table, she watched the flame eat away one letter at time until its secret was fully devoured.

  On the paper was written the word Zoyenka.

  THE END

  From the Author

  Lisa B. Thomas is a writer from Texas who writes both fiction and non-fiction as well as a blog. “Wrinkles & Grins” encourages readers to live their best life at any age.

  In her spare time, she enjoys her grandchildren, photography, treasure hunting, antiquing, and snorkeling. You can visit her website at http://www.lisabthomas.com.

  Click here to sign up for Lisa’s Newsletter

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  “Wrinkles and Grins” Blog:

  http://wrinklesandgrins.blogspot.com/

  Acknowledgements

  Cover Design: San Coils at coverkicks.com

  Copy Editor: Rita Coyne

  Support: My Dear Family

 

 

 


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