Cozy Mystery Bundle #1 (South Lane Detective Agency)

by John P. Logsdon

  “The only thing I can think of is that Mr. And Mrs. Hubonot were following her everywhere she went. They are a strange couple.”

  “Mr. And Mrs. Hubonot?” Zane said.

  “Indeed,” Mrs. Cahill confirmed with a nod. “Rather strange pair, those two.”

  “Have they come to many of your parties?” Zane said.

  “Only a couple of times, but they’re relatively new in town.”

  Mrs. Cahill set the cup down on the desk, giving Casey and Zane her full attention.

  “Do you think they stole the ring?” she said with interest.

  Zane nodded. “Yes.”

  Casey glared at him, knocking his leg with her knee.

  “We’re not sure, ma’am,” Casey corrected. “Frankly, we don’t even know if the ring was stolen. It might have just been misplaced. We are asking everyone questions so that we can narrow this down.”

  “I see. Sadly, I’m not sure what information I could possibly offer. It takes most of my time to host a party. There is such struggle in getting the help to do things properly, you know?”

  Zane nodded toward Casey. “Tell me about it.”

  Casey rolled her eyes at him before standing up and offering her hand to Mrs. Cahill.

  “I think that’s all we need, Mrs. Cahill,” Casey said as Zane stood up, looking confused. “If anything comes to mind, I would appreciate you giving us a call.”

  While they walked back to her car, Casey mulled over the evidence thus far. The fancy blue diamond was being elusive, but she knew it had to turn up eventually. Casey just needed more time.

  Still, they needed to give Mrs. Thurston an update.

  BACK TO THURSTONS'

  The red Honda Accord hummed as Casey steered it back toward the Thurstons’ hilltop home. The car was old, but she’d had it since college and it had always been there for her. Her mechanic told her it would last forever if she took good care of it, so she did.

  “You should totally be driving a Ferrari or something,” Zane said as he glanced around the inside of the car. “This thing is beneath us, as a company.”

  “It’s not like we are rolling in the cash, Zane,” she said, giving him an incredulous look.

  “I am.”

  “Fine, it’s not like the South Lane Detective Agency is rolling in the cash, Zane.”

  “Want me to buy you a Ferrari?”

  Casey turned her head to him once more, noticing that he appeared completely serious. He had asked the question as if it was nothing to him, like he was offering to go pick up coffee and bagels.

  She shook her head at him. “No.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I can’t even get you off my back regarding the money you gave me to help start this business, and that’s probably half the amount a Ferrari would cost, so definitely no.”

  “Yeah, but that would be a gift.”

  “Can we get back to solving the case, please?”

  “Look, I’m just saying that my book is going to have a Ferrari in it, not a Honda, so here’s your chance.”

  “Fine, buy me a Ferrari.”

  “Only if you make me the lead detective.”

  “I knew there was a catch.”

  “Not a big one, though.”

  Casey laughed and shook her head. “Never happening.”

  “You’re no fun.” Zane leaned forward and switched on the radio, the sound of CNN filling up the small space.

  “Excuse me, but this is my car,” Casey said, reaching over and turning the volume down to a reasonable level.

  “Certainly isn’t mine,” Zane said, under his breath. “Do you honestly have this tuned to the news station?”

  Suddenly, both of them looked at the radio as the announcer was speaking.

  “...and the police have finally taken Miles Mecredi into custody.”

  “Who—” Zane began.

  “Shhh,” Casey said, interrupting him. She gave his shoulder a shove for emphasis.

  “Known as the Gem Maurader, Mecredi has been charged with five counts of gem theft. Among his thefts are the Sapphire of Zebuton, the Emerald of Parize, the Alistaire Ruby, and Diamond of Drayson ... Allegedly.”

  “Well, that puts a new wrinkle in things,” Casey said, leaning back and resting her head against the seat.

  “How do you spell Mecredi?”

  “Why?” Casey said, distracted.

  “For my book,” Zane replied matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, right.”

  The case had been blown wide open, and now there was more work to do. She stepped on the gas, rewarded with the engine’s loud hum, now more eager than ever to speak with Mrs. Thurston.

  THE REPORT

  They were once again seated on the Thurstons’ fancy antique sofa, with Mrs. Thurston absentmindedly petting her lounging poodle’s head. The dog seemed agitated and restless, no longer comforted by his owner’s affections.

  “We've spoken with Mr. And Mrs. Hubonot and Mrs. Cahill, and your husband came by the office earlier, too,” Casey said in greeting.

  “Belgrave? For what purpose?”

  Casey cleared her throat. “He... Well...”

  “He thinks you're off your rocker, ma'am,” Zane blurted out, causing Casey to cringe.

  “Zane!”

  “What?” Zane said, looking innocent.

  “Saying that I've lost my mind again?” Mrs. Thurston gave a small laugh. “He does that all the time. Telling me how I misplace things. It's not me misplacing things, though, it's him. Why, just the other day I spotted one of his shoes out by the bush in the backyard. I had to get the butler to retrieve it. How it got there, I'll never know.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Casey said, relieved that Mrs. Thurston hadn’t been offended. “Well, we were going to say we needed more time to continue working the case, but then we heard a news report on the radio just now, on the way over here.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. Thurston said.

  “Have you ever heard of Miles Mecredi?” Casey asked her.

  Mrs. Thurston shrieked, putting her hand to her chest in shock.

  “The Gem Marauder?”

  “You know about him, too?” Zane said, looking back and forth between them.

  “He's feared by all of the wealthiest in this area,” Mrs. Thurston said. “Snatched up many a ring... Oh my, are you suggesting that he stole my beloved heirloom?”

  “Yes,” Zane said.

  Casey gave him a sharp look before turning back to Mrs. Thurston.

  “I can't say that for certain, Mrs. Thurston, but based on the way everyone covets your diamond, I would imagine he's quite familiar with it.”

  “Well, he would be, yes,” she confirmed with a nod.

  “Why is that?” Casey said, intrigued.

  The sound of approaching footsteps caused Casey to turn her head, noticing Mr. Thurston as he walked into the room.

  “I'll tell you why,” Mr. Thurston said, clearly having overheard their entire conversation. “It's because he used to date my Maybell, that's why.”

  “There's a turn I wasn't expecting,” Zane mumbled.

  Mr. Thurston had his hands on his hips. “Didn't I already pay you two to be done with this case?”

  “They're just here giving me latest,” Mrs. Thurston said in their defense. She shot him a disapproving look. “Also, Belgrave, I must say that I'm rather displeased with your actions regarding this matter.”

  “Had to be done,” he quickly said. “Waste of time.”

  “Even hearing that the Gem Marauder could be involved?” she said to him with her eyebrows raised.

  “Okay, well that perks the interest level a bit, I'll admit, but I still think you just misplaced the damn thing.”

  “I did no such thing, Belgrave. No such thing at all.”

  “This is a waste of my efforts,” Mr. Thurston said, sounding exasperated. “I'm retiring to the library.”

  Maybe sensing his owners’ agitation, the previously resting poodle lifted his head and then h
opped down off the antique sofa. He began pacing back and forth before letting out a pitiful howl.

  “Do be a dear and walk our pride and joy before you bury your head in one of those romance novels,” Mrs. Thurston said.

  “What?” The man looked affronted and possibly a tad guilty. “I don’t read that rubbish. I read business journals.”

  “Whatever you say, dear. Walk the pooch before doing that, yes?”

  “Have the butler do it,” Mr. Thurston responded.

  “You know that he had a family function this evening, dear.”

  Mr. Thurston looked at Zane and let out a loud sigh. “It's so hard to find good help these days.”

  Zane lifted his chin at Casey and opened his mouth.

  “Don’t say it again,” Casey warned.

  Zane closed his mouth.

  “It won't take you but a minute, dear,” Mrs. Thurston insisted.

  “Have Zane do it,” Mr. Thurston said derisively. “I just gave him ten thousand reasons to.”

  With that, Mr. Thurston turned on his heel and walked down the marble hallway toward the library.

  “That man can be such a bother sometimes,” Mrs. Thurston said with a shake of her head. “Mr. Wolfe, would you mind taking my Ruffles for a little stroll around the backyard?”

  Casey was barely able to contain the laugh that rumbled up her throat. She covered it with a cough instead.

  “Uh... Sure, I guess,” Zane said, clearly uncomfortable with the prospect. Casey doubted that he had ever walked a dog in his entire life.

  “Finally a solid use for your skills, Zane,” Casey said, unable to keep from rubbing it in. “Maybe dog-walking will be your new goal in life come next year.”

  He grinned at her, but there was no humor in his smile.

  WALKING RUFFLES

  Zane attached the leash that Mrs. Thurston had handed to him to the jewel-encrusted pink color around the dog’s neck. Ruffles was pulling him toward the back door, leading Zane to wonder who was walking whom. He opened the door and Ruffles lurched out, pulling Zane along behind him. He ran to the first bush and lifted his leg. Once he was done, Zane turned back to the house, but Ruffles had other ideas.

  The dog began wandering around the expansive back yard, and Zane surmised that Ruffles had more to do than he’d expected. I didn’t sign up for this, he thought, wondering how he had been talked into such a thing in the first place. It was hardly a good use of his time.

  After what seemed like forever, including many starts and stops—with Ruffles looking to be on the verge of something happening, only to start walking again—Zane was ready to drag the pooch back inside if he didn’t get it over with soon.

  “Come on, dog, do your stuff,” he said with a grunt. “I don't want to be out here all night.”

  Ruffles turned and looked at him. Was that fear in his eyes? Zane had never owned a pet, never mind a dog, and he had no idea how to interpret their emotions. But, studying the dog, he was confident that what he saw reflected in its face was worry, like something bad was about to happen to the yard and the dog was going to be the cause of it. Zane had that same look on his own his face a couple of months previous, the night he and his brother had eaten at a Mexican food truck. Well, not the same look, being he’d not been in a yard at the time.

  Ruffles began circling, the waiting finally over. Zane looked away to give him privacy.

  After a moment, another plaintive howl came from poor Ruffles, and Zane instinctively turned back around to make sure the dog was all right.

  “There ya go,” he said, noticing the pooch had finished his business. “Goodness, what do they feed you?”

  Something caught his eye. He’d never studied dog droppings before, but he had a feeling he shouldn’t be seeing what he was seeing.

  He blinked a few times.

  “No way, it can't be...”

  LEAD DETECTIVE

  Casey had a clear view into the kitchen from where she stood in the living room, and she watched as Zane walked back into the house with a practically prancing Ruffles. The dog obviously felt much better, but Casey didn’t understand the tight look on Zane’s face. She watched as he unhooked the leash and the dog bounded through the kitchen to the living room and jumped back up on the sofa.

  Zane followed behind the dog at a leisurely pace, entering the living room and leaning against the grand arch that separated the kitchen from the grand formal living space. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Casey for a moment before he spoke.

  “Can I speak to you privately for a moment?” Zane said softly so only she could hear.

  Casey made her way over to him, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “What are you doing over here? What's going on?”

  “Did Ruffles leave a present?” Mrs. Thurston called out across the room, noticing Zane standing in the archway.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Zane said with a big smile. “She left quite a gem.”

  “Good,” the old woman said, sounding pleased as she gently pushed the dog aside and stood up from the couch. “The butler will pick it up in the morning. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to powder my nose.”

  “Of course,” Casey said, and then turned back to Zane. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Casey,” he said seriously, “you know how you've been saying that you're the lead detective and all that?”

  “I am the lead detective.”

  “Yeah, right, just like that. Anyway, I've been thinking about it and I agree. I'm just an down and out author...”

  “You're a multi-millionaire brat that has too much money and not enough ambition,” she correct him while rolling her eyes.

  “Well, yeah, but I'm also a down and out author.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Anyway,” Zane continued, “you are the detective. And you're a damn good one, too.”

  He nodded for emphasis. Casey gazed at him in awe. Was he being genuine?

  “Oh... Uh.. Thank you, Zane.” She flinched and quickly shook her head as if resetting her brain. “I'm... Shocked.”

  “No, really, you deserve all the accolades and such that go along with being a detective.” Zane uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans instead.

  “Did you find the Scotch cabinet?” Casey asked, it suddenly dawning on her that she was being set up.

  “Anyway, seeing as you're the real detective here... There's some evidence for you to dig through in the backyard.”

  Zane gave her a huge grin and then moved past her, back into the living room, leaving Casey standing there with her brows knitted in confusion.

  WHO DONE IT?

  Mr. Thurston stared at them, dumbfounded. “You're saying that the damnable dog is the thief?”

  Zane closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

  “Yes...” he said, but then glanced at Casey. “Right?”

  “Obviously,” she confirmed.

  “Yes,” Zane repeated, this time with more confidence.

  “Unfathomable!” Mr. Thurston said, his fingers cupping his chin.

  “So what's the procedure here, Casey?” Zane said. “Do we call the cops or...”

  “What?” Casey said, feeling confused once again.

  Mrs. Thurston wasn’t paying attention to the three of them, her focus entirely on Ruffles.

  “That's a bad Ruffles,” she said to the dog in a sweet, gentle voice that Casey felt sure Ruffles would not understand.

  To her surprise, though, the dog whimpered and hung his head.

  “Oh, there there,” Mrs. Thurston soothed, petting the dog’s curly hair. “No harm done.”

  Mr. Thurston’s voice boomed through the house. “Of course there was harm done! That pooch cost me ten grand!”

  “Technically, dear, it's my money,” she said to him, not even bothering to look up.

  “Damnable woman.”

  “What I still don't get, though, is how the dog ingested the ring?” Casey sai
d.

  Zane looked at her and shook his head. “Through the mouth, I'm guessing. And you call yourself a detective. Some things are right in front of your eyes, Casey.”

  “A dog isn't just going to eat a ring, Zane.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  Mrs. Thurston stood up from her bent-over position and put her hands on her hips.

  “Oh dear. I think I may know.”

  “Well?” Mr. Thurston bellowed once more.

  “Last night at the Cahill's party, they had such wonderful muffins. You remember, dear?”

  “They were rather delicious, I must admit,” he agreed.

  “Yes, well, I asked Mrs. Cahill if I could take one with me.”

  “And you only got one? Selfish woman.”

  “You do have the ability to ask for things on your own, Belgrave,” she admonished. “Anyway, I set it on my bedside table before going to sleep.

  “So?”

  “So I turned out the light, took off my ring...”

  “And you put the ring on the muffin?” Zane said.

  “I fear I must have. It does get rather dark in our room.”

  “So in the middle of the night, Ripples...” Casey began as she pieced the clues together.

  “It's Ruffles, dear.”

  “Sorry, Ruffles was hunting around the house for food, came into your room, caught wind of the muffin, and downed the entire thing, ring, wrapper, and all.”

  “I do believe that about sums it up.”

  “Damnable dog,” Mr. Thurston said, grunting at Ruffles.

  “And you wouldn't have heard that?” Zane said.

  “We're heavy sleepers, dear,” Mrs. Thurston replied, “and after all the noises that Belgrave makes on a nightly basis, I suppose not much will open my eyes when I'm in full slumber.”

  “Well, I guess the case is closed, then,” Casey said as she gathered up her things.

  “It does seem so, dear. Thank you for your time and help.”

  “We didn't do all that much,” Casey said.

  A huge grin spread across Zane’s face. “We just let nature take its course.”

  “Damnable detectives,” Mr. Thurston grumbled as Casey and Zane went out the front door.