Wake Up to Murder (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 2)

by Abby Matthews

  Her mother would know exactly what to say in a situation like this, but Ricki struggled to find the right words. Her mother always told her that when someone lost a loved one they usually wanted to talk about the person they had lost. Ricki went with that. “Was she a talk show host back in Chicago?”

  Marty wiped his face dry with a napkin. “She had worked her way up. She started out as a weekend anchor back in Michigan, some small station, affiliate of one of the major networks.” He blew his nose. “When I met her, she was a morning anchor on a small, independent station in Chicago. She was really good at her job.”

  “I’m sorry I never had a chance to know her under better circumstances.”

  “Don’t lie.” Marty squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.”

  Ricki knew that was the pain talking. “It’s all right.” She took a large gulp of her coffee. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Only speculation.” Marty took another bite of his scrambled eggs, cold by now, for sure. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

  As Marty slowly opened up, Ricki felt comfortable asking more probing questions. “What have the police told you?”

  “They’re saying it’s random. I don’t believe it. I told the investigator what was going on back in Chicago.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had a stalker, which is why I wanted to move away. She didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. I told the police about it, but they’re not buying it. They said Unionville was a long way from Chicago, and stalkers don’t often go that far out of their way to track down their obsession.”

  Yeah, maybe they said that because Ricki was on their radar. “One of the producers says he knows her. You might have met him at the station that day. Do you know of anyone named Jim Marconi?”

  Marty squinted one eye, thinking. “Oh, him? He’s a womanizer, but he’s harmless. He was always trying to get into Kari’s panties.”

  “Really? That’s hardly harmless.”

  “Kari made it sound like it was always in good fun.”

  “If you say so.” Kari might have said it was all in good fun to ease Marty’s concerns about Jim, possibly to avoid any jealous confrontations, but Ricki wasn’t going to disagree with him in his current state of mind. “This stalker, was it male or female?”

  “No idea. Whoever it was sent threatening emails. Eventually, she closed all email accounts and kept her current one private. The emails stopped for a while, but it started back up again right after we announced our engagement.”

  “When was that?”

  “About three months ago.”

  “A rabid fan? Old boyfriend, maybe? If she kept her new email private, how did anyone find the address?”

  “Don’t know.” Marty raised his eyebrows. “I thought it was…” He stared down at his hands. “I don’t know if you want to talk about this right now.”

  Ricki had a guttural response that told her what he was about to say wasn’t going to be easy to hear. “It depends. What are you talking about?”

  “That brings me to why I’m here.” He took a large inhale and let it out, his shoulders dropping. “I wanted to apologize for the way things happened. I got your email saying someone hacked your account. Right after I read it, I knew the emails I had gotten weren’t from you. It didn’t sound like you. The last one you sent me two years ago made it sound like you accepted it was over and were ready to move on. Anyway, after I read your last email, the real one, I felt I owed you a better explanation. It seems kind of strange to talk about it now, considering all we’ve been through, but she really messed with my head.”

  “Who?”

  “The woman I met in Chicago and…you know.”

  Ricki tilted her head to the side, confused. She jumped up from the table and raced to the sink to empty her cup, wishing she hadn’t had that second cup of coffee. It felt like a rock in her gut. “But I thought Kari was… I’m confused. Kari wasn’t the woman you left me for?”

  Marty carried his plate to the sink until Ricki intercepted it. She placed the plate on the ground and let Rumpus finish the scrambled eggs.

  “If Kari wasn’t the one, then who? Who is this other woman? What’s her name?”

  “I’d rather not say. I’m trying hard to forget about that episode in my life. She was intense. Everything happened so fast. I became overwhelmed. Looking back on it now, I wouldn’t even call it love. She messed with my head so badly, Ricki, that I didn’t know my ass from my elbow. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of it, and I’m sorry.”

  “I appreciate that you’re telling me this, but why are you doing it now?”

  Marty scratched his chin. “Because when you lose someone you love, you realize how important the other people in your life are. I treated you badly at the end of our relationship and when I saw you again, I treated you badly a second time. Mostly because I thought you were the one emailing me. But now that I know it wasn’t you, I want to make amends.”

  Ricki paced the floor, wringing her hands. This was overwhelming and a little confusing. She had to know. “What exactly did those emails say?”

  “They said I want you back, I hate you, you treated me bad, and that I would regret letting you go one day, except with more colorful language. That was the first clue they weren’t from you. But it wasn’t so much the content as the amount, and they came out of nowhere within the past couple of months, which should have been another red flag.” He paused for a moment and studied Ricki’s eyes. “So, can you find it in your heart to forgive me? We were friends long before we were lovers. Kari’s death made me realize how important it is to hold on to friends and family.”

  “Of course, I forgive you. I mean, far be it for me to hold someone back if they’re not happy. But this conversation stirs up more than just my emotions. Forgive the cliché, but you opened a whole can of worms.”

  “How?”

  “You said you told the police all this?”

  He nodded. “They said if it wasn’t a random act it was a crime of passion, except it doesn’t look like a crime of passion.”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I would never hurt anyone.”

  “I know, but tell that to the police. They’re even looking at me suspiciously.”

  “But you were out of town on the night it happened.”

  “Exactly, and I have six other people to confirm it.”

  She thought learning what was in those emails would make her feel settled. Uncertainty was often more painful than the truth, but not in this case. Someone was out there sabotaging her reputation and her career. But why? Then this bombshell about Kari not being the other woman Marty left her for was like someone kicking her legs out from under her.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking a lot of things right now. Like who this other woman is, if she had any connection to Kari, and if might have been her stalker. What kind of person is she? What does she do for a living? Does she have a lot of money to get around?”

  Marty stared up at the ceiling. “Let’s see: psycho, artist, no.”

  “That’s the short answer, but I want more than that. It sounds like you’re not buying what the police are saying, am I right?” Marty nodded, Ricki continued. “I have a few ideas running through my head. Can I get your cell phone number so I can ask you questions from time to time?”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Solving the murder of your fiancée.”

  Fifteen

  Ricki sat on a bench in a small reception area at the police station, waiting for Steve. When she got the call that he wanted to meet with her, she spent the rest of the day obsessing over what he wanted to see her about. If he wanted to arrest her for something they had found on her laptop, he would have come to her house and taken her by force instead of casually inviting her to the station. That gave her small comfort. Chris sat at his desk, writing up his weekly reports, making goofy faces at her to get her t
o lighten up. He had done this since they were kids. Whenever Ricki stressed about something at school, he’d sit in class (usually across the room since they were always separated) and stick his tongue out, roll his eyes, or push his nose up like a pig’s snout. Ricki only laughed at his antics when the teacher caught him.

  “Quit worrying,” he had said. “If you were in trouble, you’d know it.” The two went back and forth with each other in the parking lot before he started work that day. No amount of reassurance seemed to ease her worries, and no matter how many times he had told her he didn’t know anything, she didn’t believe him.

  “Do you know what he wants to see me about? Did he say anything to you, anything at all?”

  “They’re keeping tight lipped about this one,” he had said. When she pressed for the reason, he said: “Because you’re, um, involved.”

  And that was why she was nervous. So, she sat there on the bench, tapping her fingers on the arm of it, and bouncing her legs. Her brother couldn’t always give her the inside scoop, but he wouldn’t even give her a hint this time around. When she was investigating Jennifer Barnes’ murder, he relayed some information that helped her figure out who the murderer wasn’t. Not this time, though.

  Finally, Steve sidled up to the bench, staring down at her with a smile on his face. That was a good sign. “Ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?” She promised herself not to get sarcastic with the homicide detective again. If she wanted to show she was innocent of any wrong doing, getting lippy with the law wasn’t the way to do it. “Sorry. I guess I’m nervous.”

  Steve didn’t respond. He only led her down a long hallway to the interrogation room. “Take a seat.” He may have been all smiles, but his voice was all business. He sat in the chair opposite her and opened a folder. “We have a report on your laptop.”

  “And?” Ricki worried the leather flap attached to her zipper on her purse as she waited for him to answer.

  “Let me tell you a little story about what we found. I’m just relaying this information, so don’t ask for specifics. I don’t have the knowledge to answer your questions.” He picked up what looked to be an official report and started reading. “We couldn’t find any evidence of the alleged emails on your hard-drive. We’ve been talking with your internet service provider to get some timestamps and such. What we found doesn’t mesh with your internet activity, so we believe someone hacked into your email account. I hope you changed your password.”

  “I did. I thought my dog’s name was something only I would figure out. I mean, it’s not like many people name their dog Rumpus.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that again. And I hope you’ve changed your passwords on all your accounts, not just email.”

  “I did. A friend explained technology to me as best he could. All taken care of.”

  “Good. Because we found someone accessed your account from another IP address.”

  “What’s an IP address?”

  “From what I understand, it’s a series of numbers that your service provider uses for you to access the internet. I’m not knowledgeable of computer technology, so that’s as best as I can explain it. Anyway, we traced that address to another location, not the local internet service provider from Unionville.”

  Ricki leaned forward. “Can you tell me where?”

  “Not while the investigation is ongoing. Anyway, whoever accessed your account supposedly sent Kari Olson some emails, threatening her with bodily harm. It appears to be the same person who sent your ex-boyfriend emails begging him to take you back.”

  Ricki’s cheeks burned partially with embarrassment and partially with anger.

  “The history you have with Marty doesn’t make you look good.” He closed the folder and clasped his hands together, laying them across the desk. “Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

  “Not really. Up until Marty came back to town, I hadn’t seen him in close to two years, and I had never met his fiancée until she showed up at the restaurant at the dinner meeting.”

  He opened the folder again and started reading. “It says here the content of the email exchanges between you and a Mr. Houck were rather heated and emotional.” Maybe Ricki was imagining things, but she could have sworn Steve’s cheeks turned pink. “It makes you look like the jealous ex, hellbent on revenge.” He looked up at her and smiled thinly. “As a friend, I understand breakups can be ugly. To be honest, I don’t find anything unusual about them, but someone higher up than me is red flagging them. I can recuse myself from this case if you like.”

  Recuse himself? Just how serious was this? “No, I would like to have a friend on my side. I know you can be objective, but Steve, I have nothing to hide. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Which is why I don’t want to recuse myself. I don’t think you did anything either, but I still have to do my job.”

  “I appreciate that. What can I tell you that could help clear my name?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Well, you can give me a quick rundown on what’s going on—all the dirty details no matter how insignificant you might think they are.”

  Where would she even start? It seemed like everything came out of nowhere and happened all at once. Her head was still spinning, but she tried her best to give Steve as many details as she could, even if she couldn’t understand what had happened.

  “Why would the associate producer schedule a dinner meeting with the new host and you? I don’t know anything about the television business, but it’s weird you would even meet before the day of the taping of the show.”

  “Right? It made me wonder if it was a setup at first.”

  Steve cocked his head to the side and knitted his brows together. “How do you mean?”

  “Taryn set up the meeting, yet Taryn wasn’t at the dinner. Someone videotaped our fight. Someone online mentioned the meltdown I had in the restaurant. Somehow, someone managed to capture all of that. Either someone went to great effort to plan this out or it’s the most coincidental thing I ever encountered.”

  “What are they odds that something like that could be carried off without a glitch.”

  Ricki considered this. “You have a point.”

  “What else?”

  “I can understand the videos. It seems like everyone is watching everyone else and taping it and uploading it to YouTube for entertainment. I get that. Some of it’s funny. But, in my case, if it weren’t for the website exposing all those emails that your tech department now knows about, I can’t help but think that someone is out to sabotage me.”

  “Any enemies?”

  “I’ve had my share of haters, but mostly they just leave harsh reviews on all my books.”

  “All your books? If they hate you so much why do they read them all?”

  Ricki shrugged. “Other than that, I don’t believe I do.” Briefly, Ricki entertained the idea of bringing up the conversation she had with Marty about the stalker but remembered he had already tried discussing it with them. That conversation was also personal and confidential, and she wouldn’t use it in an attempt to get herself off the hook. “I’ve pretty much told you everything I know. There has to be a connection between the person who hacked into my email account and the website that now exposes all of those. Do you have any idea who that person is?”

  “Unfortunately, they’re using a free blogging platform, so we’re still checking on that. My guess is, they’re using a fake name and a throw-away email address which won’t help us.” Once again, Steve leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. He studied her. “We’re almost done here. You can pick your laptop up at the front desk on your way out, but I have a few more things to talk with you about.”

  A wave of relief washed over Ricki. She could see the light at the end of this tunnel and couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  “I have your timeline and details from when you were at the restaurant, but I need to know where you were between ten and eleven that night.”

  “Probabl
y on my way home. Is that when it happened?”

  “We believe it was around that time. I need a little more than on my way home.”

  “It takes at least half an hour to forty-five minutes to get from my house to Hilltop Inn, depending on traffic. There was an event downtown that weekend, so traffic was heavier than usual. I don’t know the time.”

  “Now, see, this is where things get complicated.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you have anyone to vouch for your whereabouts between ten and eleven o’clock that night?”

  “Other than my dog, no. I didn’t talk to anyone that night.”

  “Ricki, you’re my friend, your brother is one of my buddies, but you were the last known person to see Kari Olson alive. When she left the restaurant that night, the manager said she never came back inside. That puts you at the scene just before it happened, and that looks bad for you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Ricki gulped.

  Sixteen

  The last time Ricki was at the television studio, she didn’t have the opportunity to snoop. She only went there to question Taryn and the producers. It was mostly a wasted trip. She annoyed Taryn but had some luck with Jim. But there was nothing or no one stopping her at that moment. The show started recording at seven o’clock. It was now a quarter after. She figured once those double-doors shut for the live taping, no one would be milling about in the hallway. The show was an hour long, giving her a good half hour to snoop and enough time to sneak out before anyone caught her.

  She parked her car on the shoulder down the road away from the studio, but up on this hill, the car stuck out like a zit on prom night. Becca wanted to come with her, mostly to see Ricki get caught in the act of snooping, but couldn’t find a babysitter at the last minute. Ricki was all on her own, her stomach fluttering with nervous excitement. Her excuse if she got caught? She lost her favorite gloves, the ones she got for Christmas from a dying friend. Yeah, it was flimsy, but it was all she could think of that could explain her motivation for driving so far out of her way to retrieve them.