Hope Hadley Eight Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  Before I left, I wanted to clarify one thing. “That didn’t come out the right way.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that. What way did you intend for it to come out?”

  “I got so caught up talking to you that forgot I have somewhere to be.”

  “Oh. Right, you probably have to get back to work.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, it’s been great talking to you. We should do this again.”

  “Ok.”

  Like that, I had no more time to waste. I had to be on my way. Go figure, there I was making such an abrupt exit from the first good man I’d met since my breakup. Following up with Becky Campbell sure better be worth it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Becky rounded the corner from the convenience store and headed into the parking lot. My first instinct was to dart across the street after her on foot. With such a steady traffic flow on Ocean Breeze whizzing by, I was glad I resisted. I didn’t want to get flattened like a pancake, which had a pretty high probability of happening if I just bolted into the middle of the road.

  Additionally, by the time I could make it to the nearest crosswalk and get a green walk light, she’d be way too far ahead of me. There was only one way I could catch up to her, and that was pursuing her in my car.

  I quickly got in my nearby sedan and tailed her. Fortunately, luck smiled on me right then, and I was able to close the gap between us. As I pulled onto the street, I saw Becky driving out of the parking lot and making a quick right turn onto Third Street. I had to cut across two lanes of traffic but managed to keep her in my sights.

  Once we were off the main thoroughfare and taking side streets, it was much easier to keep pace with her car. I settled into a rhythm, hanging back five or six car lengths behind Becky, hoping to not arouse suspicion. As I drove, I slapped my wig and floppy hat back on in case I needed to confront her quickly when she finally came to a stop. That moment was apparently much further away than I thought.

  She just kept on driving, with her final destination completely unclear to me. Ten minutes into tailing her, she threw me for a serious loop. I expected her to be heading home, but that clearly wasn’t the case. Surprisingly, she pulled onto Palm Grove Lane. What was she doing here?

  The answer I received only led to more questions. She pulled into the driveway of a mocha-colored Spanish style house, then got out and approached the front door. As she went up the walkway, a familiar figure opened the door to greet her.

  It was Eric Peterson, Mark’s chief rival, and owner of the Hook, Line, And Savings bait shop. My mind was on fire, racing to figure out what she was doing here. It all became crystal clear when I saw Eric give Becky a kiss. I’d been fishing for leads all day, and this was the equivalent of reeling in a monster catch.

  If it wasn’t going on right in front of me, I almost wouldn’t believe my eyes. Then again, with all the wacky and highly unpredictable behavior I’d come across today, my jaw shouldn’t have dropped so much.

  While I tried to mentally play catch up, Eric and Becky went inside his house and out of my view. Oh, the crazy revelations. By that point, my mind was completely buzzing. I briefly floated the idea of barreling up to the front door and confronting them about this new bombshell.

  Luckily, I reconsidered before making such a brash decision, and I was glad I did. I was outnumbered and trying to play catch up as to all the implications of Becky being romantically involved with the rival of her former boss. Tackling one of those hurdles was already hard enough to overcome. To take them both at the same time seemed daunting.

  Also, there was the very real possibility that Becky and Eric would team up against me. That was the last thing I wanted, both pertaining to my own personal safety and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to get any information out of them.

  While it was time-consuming, I went with the best possible option, which was to wait patiently in my car for either Becky or Eric to come out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  With an as yet undetermined amount of time to kill, I realized it was a perfect time to check in with Paige. Maybe she’d uncovered some juicy news of her own or at least some kind of a lead for me to follow up on.

  Paige was more excited to hear from me than I ever could have anticipated, so much so that she answered on the first ring. She must have seen my name on the caller ID of her phone and dropped everything.

  “Have you found the killer yet?” Paige asked.

  So much for pleasantries. My poor friend was so panic stricken that the usual “Hello” and “How are you?” had been completely jettisoned.

  “I’m afraid you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” I replied.

  I heard her let out a deflated sigh over the phone before answering. “Oh. I guess that was just a little bit of wishful thinking on my part.”

  Now I felt bad bursting her bubble so quickly. I also wasn’t about to lie to her. That left little to comfort her with, except maybe this.

  “Trust me, when I find the killer, you’ll be the first person I tell. Aside from the police, that is.”

  “Ok.”

  With that unpleasant part of the conversation out of the way, it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty of the case.

  Paige ended up beating me to it. “Do you have any hot leads?”

  I turned the question right back around to her. “Actually, I was about to ask you that same question.”

  “Don’t get too excited. All I was able to dig up was the addresses for the other suspects.”

  “Text those addresses over. Do you have anything else for me to go on?”

  Paige groaned. “I’m afraid not.”

  I couldn’t believe it. While it would probably do me no good, I tried one last time to get anything else out of her. “Really, you didn’t come up with anything else?”

  I could hear the discouragement in her voice. “I’m sorry, Hope. I’ve been trying my best, but these suspects have been eerily quiet on social media. They haven’t even made a peep.”

  My frustration hit a fever pitch. “Drats. That’s just my luck.”

  “How much did you really expect me to be able to find? If you were a murder suspect, wouldn’t you stay as inconspicuous as possible?”

  “Of course. That’s the smart thing to do. I was just hoping one of the suspects would have done something really stupid. Since they didn’t, it just makes it harder for me because I’ll have to find a way to outsmart the killer.”

  Paige clearly sensed that I could use some words of encouragement and sent some my way. “I know you can do it.”

  I sighed. “I sure hope so.”

  “How about you? Do you have any good leads?”

  “I have a whole lot of leads, but no smoking guns. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”

  “Hey, you’re trying your best,” she said.

  “That doesn’t matter if it isn’t good enough. This is really one of those times when it’s all or nothing.”

  “I have faith in you. Just like I’m not going to give up looking, I know you won’t either,” Paige replied.

  “True.”

  “Good luck,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’m going to need it,” I replied.

  Chapter Twenty

  Forty-five minutes after I got off the phone with Paige, Becky finally came out of Eric’s house. By then, I was wrestling with a mixture of boredom and sore muscles. It turned out that stakeouts were made for people far more patient than myself.

  As Becky got into her car, I pushed my complaints aside and vowed to get back on track. I had no idea where she was going but knew that I couldn’t afford to let her out of my sight. As she backed out of the driveway, I gave her just enough space to think I wasn’t following her.

  Much to my relief, she headed straight home. While that wasn’t as ideal as her heading to a public place where she’d be wary of causing a scene, this made for a good second choice. I’d certainly questioned suspects under worse circumstances.

  As
she pulled into her driveway, I had to silence my inner monologue and get straight to work. If she followed a similar pattern as the other suspects, I’d have a very limited window to operate in. I drove up behind her and parked, then darted out of my car.

  Since I was parked behind her, I knew she couldn’t get out of the driveway without backing into me. I didn’t think there was any chance of that happening. If she did something that foolhardy, there was no choice but to get the police involved, and given her circumstances as a murder suspect, the boys in blue were the last thing she wanted hanging around her house.

  Car crashes aside, my real fear was that the moment she spotted me, she’d bolt to her front door to get inside and evade questioning. For that reason, I headed straight for her driver’s side door, trying to block her path to her front door.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get the leg up on her that I hoped for, and she was able to get out of her car before I reached her window. Still, all was not lost. I parked myself squarely between her and the front door while she gave me a look that was a mix of both confusion and outrage.

  It wasn’t that I expected a murder suspect to be in a good mood, but this still wasn’t ideal footing to be starting on. This must be what tax auditors felt like, getting cold stares everywhere they went. Then again, I wouldn’t be jazzed to see a stranger randomly show up on my front lawn, and I’ve never been suspected of murder.

  Ultimately, it didn’t matter if Becky was interested in talking to me. I was here to find out the truth and didn’t care how uncomfortable the conversation got.

  In this instance, I felt it was incredibly important to get the first word in. Becky obviously felt the same way as she immediately opened her mouth, no doubt armed with criticism to levy my way.

  I narrowly managed to get my thought out before her.

  “Becky Campbell, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  She looked at me quizzically. “Wait a minute. How do you know my name?”

  It was times like this when having a genuine police badge would really come in handy. Without one, I had to go into my usual evasive maneuvers, hoping to deflect just enough that I wouldn’t be forced to answer the question.

  “That’s not as important as you think.”

  She squinted, nowhere near satisfied with my answer, and then came after me again with a harsher tone. “Who are you, and what are you doing on my lawn?”

  I had to hand it to Becky, she was persistent. It wouldn’t be easy throwing her off the scent of my true identity. At the same time, it wouldn’t be impossible either.

  “I’m here about the murder of Mark Butler.”

  She played coy, but there was a defensiveness to her reply. “What makes you think I know anything about that?”

  I cut straight to the heart of the matter, pulling out the heavy artillery. “You were fired yesterday--”

  She tried to negate the significance of that act, attributing it to poor timing. “That’s a complete coincidence.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s one thing to get fired for not performing up to expectations, it’s another to be dating the rival of your boss.”

  Her coyness instantly evaporated. Panic took over her face. She blurted out a hasty, dismissive reply.

  “No, wait. How did you—”

  “That’s right, I know you’re with Eric Peterson.”

  “No. You’ve got it all wrong.”

  I called out her lie. “So, you’re saying you weren’t just on his doorstep kissing him? Because I saw it with my own eyes.”

  She became outraged. “Wait, you followed me?”

  Becky acted like she’d been violated. I quickly reminded her of what was truly important.

  I nodded. “I sure did, and I’m glad, because what I saw is making me see this case in a new light.”

  She went from having trouble speaking to spilling her guts out, albeit still with a heavy tone of denial in her voice. “All right, Eric and I are together, but that doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Mark.”

  I stared her down. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

  “Look, I know it looks bad, but I was about to quit working at that bait shop anyway. Mark just happened to fire me first.”

  “That’s one of the worst cover stories I’ve ever heard. Logically, it’s much more likely that you were a mole, working for Mark while sharing business secrets with his rival, your boyfriend.”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t get it. This isn’t about the bait shops. Mark’s place was a sinking ship before Eric ever came around. Besides, the bait shops are just businesses. Eric and I are in love. That’s worth more than all the money in the world.”

  Becky was talking like her head was in the clouds, but I was going to bring her right back down to Earth. “So you’re saying that you don’t care in the least that Mark fired you?”

  “Exactly.”

  This time, I shook my head, not buying her story for a second. “That’s a convenient, if unbelievable story.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. It’s not my problem if you don’t believe it.”

  I corrected her. “Actually, it is your problem. Mark Butler’s killer is on the loose, and I’m going to find them.”

  “Not here you won’t.”

  “Do you have anything to back that up?”

  “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’ve already told you that I didn’t have anything to do with Mark’s murder.”

  “We’ll see about that. Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?” I said.

  “At my sister’s engagement party,” she replied.

  “Really?” I said.

  “Yes, really.”

  “If you were at the engagement party, I’m assuming your sister and other guests can verify that.”

  “I can do you one better.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  Becky whipped out her cell phone from her purse and loaded her photo gallery. Much to my surprise, she showed me picture after picture of herself and other party guests. I was about to ask how she could prove they were taken last night between eleven and midnight, then I saw the time stamp in the bottom corner of each picture. On each one, the date and time matched up.

  For the first time all day, a suspect actually had a clean alibi. What a rarity. For a moment, I was actually rendered speechless.

  “How does that crow taste?” she said.

  “All right. So you have an alibi.”

  That wasn’t good enough for her. Now she went on the offensive. “Is that supposed to be an apology?”

  I wasn’t too proud to admit fault. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. But I had every reason to ask those questions.”

  She stared me down. “And now you have every reason to leave me alone. Now, get out of here.”

  Becky was in a hurry to shoo me away. That only arose more suspicion in my mind. Sure, she was clean, but something about those photos was curious to me.

  I stood my ground. “Not quite yet.”

  She groaned, as frustrated as could be. “What more could you want from me?”

  “Where was your boyfriend last night?” I said.

  She opened her mouth but had trouble finding the right words. I figured she was trying to come up with a lie on his behalf.

  I decided to head her off before she got her thought out. “I didn’t see him in any of those pictures.”

  She opened her mouth again to reply, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I needed to add one more point before I heard from her.

  “And don’t try to tell me he was taking the pictures because those were clearly all selfies,” I said.

  Suddenly, she was silent. It was a striking difference in her mood. A few moments ago, she couldn’t wait to interrupt me. Now, she looked like she didn’t want to say another word.

  As I stared at her, she knew she couldn’t avoid answering.

  Finally, she let out a sigh and replied. “He wasn’t at the pa
rty.”

  “That’s pretty curious, isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  I wasn’t about to let her play that dumb. “Really? What boyfriend doesn’t go to their girlfriend’s sister’s engagement party?”

  She tightened up like she was frozen in suspended animation. After taking a moment to compose herself, she came clean. “My family doesn’t really approve of our relationship. He didn’t want there to be any trouble on my sister’s big night, so he didn’t come to the party.”

  It was funny. Each answer she gave only led to more questions.

  “Why doesn’t your family approve of your relationship?” I said.

  She averted her eyes and lowered her voice.

  “My family thinks I can do better than some bait and tackle shop owner. They’re still hoping that one day I’ll come around to the investment banker that they’ve been trying to set me up with.”

  “So, you don’t actually know where your boyfriend was last night, do you?”

  She jumped right to his defense. “I know he wouldn’t do something like this.”

  “That wasn’t the question. Do you know where he was during the time of the murder?”

  Becky stammered, considering a multitude of answers before finally muttering the truth. “No.”

  “Who’s to say he didn’t do this then?”

  “I am. You don’t know him like I do. I love him. He’d never do this.”

  I didn’t back down. “Let me tell you something, rivalries burn hot, and people get crazy when it comes to money. Never underestimate what people are capable of when their livelihood is at stake.”

  She’d reached the end of her fuse and blew up in my face.

  “That’s it, we’re done here.”

  I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen to reason.

  “I still have a few more questions.”

  She shut me down. “This conversation is over.”

  With my car parked behind hers and my body blocking the path to her front door, I figured she had no choice but to talk to me. Instead, she surprised me by heading around the side of her house and to her back door.