Hope Hadley Eight Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  I fell silent. In fact, I went quiet so long that Joe wondered if our phone connection had been lost.

  “Are you still there?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Repeat that last thing you said to me again,” I replied.

  “Are you still there?” Joe said.

  “No. The one before that.”

  “Oh. Just that sometimes the truth is right in front of you, but you don’t want to admit it.”

  Once again, I was left breathless. My brother’s statement sent shockwaves through my mind. All of a sudden, the answer I had been looking for finally came to me. Finally, the jumble in my mind disappeared and was replaced by a sense of clarity.

  “You’re a genius,” I said.

  This time, it was Joe who was confused.

  “Really? That was just a story about what a knucklehead I’ve been,” Joe replied.

  I corrected him. “You need to give yourself more credit.”

  “Care to explain?” he asked.

  I hated to leave him in the dark, but for the sake of time, I elected to do so. I would fill in the blanks soon enough.

  “I’ll explain later. In the meantime, there’s something I need to do,” I said.

  I left Joe somewhat mystified, but he’d be okay.

  In the meantime, I finally knew the answer. The time for delay was over. Right then, the only thing on my mind was confronting the killer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Just because I knew who the killer was didn’t make this next conversation any easier. In fact, I found myself staring down the hardest discussion of my entire life. I was not looking forward to it.

  There was an old saying about how much the truth hurt. That was definitely the case here. Perhaps that was why I had been so blind to it for so long. The answer had been in front of me for so long, but I had just refused to admit it. Mostly because it represented the most bitter pill I had ever had to swallow.

  My brother used to say that given the right circumstances, anyone was capable of murder. I had never believed that. I had also refused to admit that this case was as cut and dry as Detective Wright had painted it as. Perhaps, I should have. It would have saved me a lot of time and energy. It was too late to go back now. I could only look forward, even if it meant having to admit the ugly truth.

  That’s how found myself visiting Sophie in jail again. She looked anxious to see me.

  Sophie jumped up from the bed in her cell with her eyes wide. I could tell she had questions that she was eager to pepper me with.

  “Hope, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Sophie said.

  “Neither did I, but something has come up.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, right? Does that mean you found out who did this?”

  The excitement in her voice only made this more difficult for me.

  I had trouble getting out my single word response. “Yes.”

  Sophie looked confused that I took so long to elaborate. She was hanging on my next word.

  Finally, she couldn’t wait. “And?”

  She may have been chomping at the bit, but I was more hesitant than ever. It was crazy. I knew what had to be said. I even had the phrasing all worked out. But, like a singer with stage fright, I completely tensed up with the spotlight on me. I just couldn’t seem to figure out how to get the words off the tip of my tongue.

  Finally, Sophie’s lack of patience forced the issue. “The suspense is killing me.”

  That triggered a visceral reaction in me. Suddenly, the words spilled out of my mouth. “Why did you lie to me?”

  I had meant to approach the subject with more tact, but it was too late now. After my accusatory statement, the conversation naturally devolved from there.

  Sophie’s mood immediately changed. She went from excited to guarded.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Evasion wasn’t going to get her anywhere. I wasn’t about to let her play dumb.

  “Sophie, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  My friend’s mood soured even more.

  I meant to continue, but my tongue became tied again. It turned out that I didn’t even need to verbalize my thought. I could tell that she knew what I was about to say.

  “No. Wait a minute. You don’t actually think…?”

  Sophie couldn’t seem to finish her sentence. At least I wasn’t the only one having trouble expressing myself.

  With all the incomplete sentences floating in the air, I knew it was time for some finality. Whether I was ready for it or not, we had reached the moment of truth.

  Unfortunately, Sophie still seemed to be trying to deflect the blame off of herself.

  I threw the hammer down. “Sophie, I know you did this.”

  Sophie gave me a baffled look. “They got you believing their lies too?”

  Sophie was trying to play my emotions, but I had finally reached my limit. This was hard enough for me to do already. The situation was inherently fraught with emotions, yet she was trying to pile more on. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  It was time to put an end to this charade. I felt like my heart was being ripped in half as I said the words, but they needed to be said. So, I mustered the last of my courage and continued. “No. I’m just finally willing to admit the truth that’s been right in front of me.”

  Sophie’s facial expression went from bewilderment to profound sadness. She looked like she was about to cry.

  “I can’t believe you’re turning on me,” she said.

  I knew what she was trying to do, and it was low. Sophie knew I was fiercely loyal to my friends. So loyal that I had conducted a wild goose chase on her behalf. But that wasn’t enough. Now she seemed to be resorting to emotional blackmail.

  I held firm. “Don’t make this about me. It’s about you, and what you did.”

  Realizing that her pleading didn’t work, she lost her temper and snapped at me. “For the last time, I didn’t—”

  Disrespect was the one thing I wouldn’t stand for. Suddenly, resolve came to my face. I’d reached the end of my rope.

  I cut her off. “If you lie to me, I’ll get up and walk out of here and never come back. We’ve been friends for years, but that doesn’t mean you can use that to manipulate me. As your friend, I should be entitled to the truth. Instead, you had me running around town accusing other people of murder when you were the one who was guilty. What kind of a friend does that?”

  Suddenly, she got deadly quiet. Sophie lowered her head. Before she did, I saw the embarrassment on her face. I worried that she would retreat into her shell when the proper response would have been to say she was sorry for the way she had treated me.

  No apology came. Instead, she had no answer of any kind. She averted eye contact, but as I looked closer at her, she looked ashamed of herself.

  Each second that passed seemed to tick by in slow motion. It was excruciating waiting for a response. I began to wonder if one would even come. When she didn’t make a move, I realized I’d have to.

  “Come clean,” I pleaded.

  Sophie finally looked up, her face in agony. The anger was gone now, having been replaced with desperation.

  “It’s not what you think,” she said.

  I expected her sentence to continue. It did not.

  I eased her along. “How is it not what I think?”

  She was still choked up. Every response I got from her was like pulling teeth.

  I offered my own take on the situation. “I’ll tell you what I think happened. You couldn’t make sense Paul firing you, so you went to his house to confront him. But the conversation didn’t turn out the way expected. I’ll bet things went south in a hurry, and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed the dagger of justice that he cherished so much and killed him with it.”

  She blasted my theory but did not provide an explanation of her own. “You have it all wrong.”

  I pushed her again. “Then tell me.”

  When she took a deep b
reath, I had a feeling she’d finally come forward with the truth.

  After a lot of hemming and hawing, she finally broke down. “Okay. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Originally, I just went over to his house to confront him over firing me. I told him that what he was doing was wrong and that I could sue him for wrongful termination. After that, I gave him one more chance to give me my job back. Instead, he refused and just started going off on me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he was going to ruin my career. That I’d never eat lunch in this town again. That he wouldn’t rest until my name was dirt.”

  I offered my sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I. He was so brazen with his language. Hearing him talk that way, it triggered a rage inside me that I didn’t even know I had. I got angrier than I’d ever been in my entire life. Before I knew it, I picked up the dagger of justice that he displayed on his mantle and stabbed him with it.”

  I winced at the image her story had put in my head.

  “It was crazy how quickly it happened. One minute I was arguing with him and the next he was on the ground, dead. He’d put me in such a rage that I almost felt like I was having an out of body experience. As if I was watching someone else kill him. But in reality, it was me. When I snapped out of my rage, I couldn’t believe what I’d done, how I’d let my anger get the best of me. I immediately wished that I could take it back, but it was too late. He was dead, and I’d killed him. In one moment of anger, I’d done something to change the course of my entire life.”

  Sophie looked up at me with tears in her eyes and continued.

  “I’m going to regret what I did for the rest of my life, but, no matter what I do, I can’t take it back.”

  For the first time since this case began, I believed everything she said. And, despite the recent disturbing changes in her personality, I knew she regretted what she had done. Sophie wasn’t a psychopath. She wasn’t a woman who acted with inherently malicious intent. As she had said, she’d just gotten wrapped up in the heat of the moment. Unfortunately, by allowing her anger get the better of her, she’d made a fatal mistake.

  I could hear the regret in her voice. In my heart, I knew that was genuine. The problem was, no one cared what I thought. Ultimately, it would be up to the jury to decide her fate. Most likely, that meant a life sentence. After all, she could try to rationalize her actions all that she wanted, but it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d done it. Reluctant or not, she was a killer, and nothing would change that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “For dragging you into this. For sending you on a wild goose chase. I panicked. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you. I can’t apologize enough. I’m just so sorry.”

  I could have belabored the point and told her what a big mistake she had made, but she already knew that. As I looked into her eyes, I saw how much she was beating herself up for her actions. And, while it wasn’t easy an easy decision to make, I decided to accept her apology.

  “No, you haven’t been a good friend,” I replied. “But I forgive you.”

  Epilogue

  No matter how much I wanted them to, some Hollywood stories just didn’t have happy endings. Sophie ended up being convicted of murder and was given a life sentence. To this day, I still can’t think about that day without breaking into tears.

  Which is why, when I did think about Sophie these days, I pictured the old friend that I used to know. The one that was full of hope and optimism. The woman who always found a way to be positive, against all odds.

  In reality, I knew the Sophie I was picturing was long gone. But that was the thing about Hollywood—it was a land of dreamers. Of make believe. And when it came to my friend, I wanted to believe that the Sophie I used to know still existed, even if she was long gone.

  The End.

  Deadpan Murder

  Chapter One

  It had been a dreadful day, and it wasn’t even over yet. As much as I hated to admit it, the end was nowhere in sight. Yet, as nightmarish of a morning as it had been for me, it had been infinitely worse for poor Lara Peabody. Luck was never a good friend of hers, but during the wee hours of the morning, it had forsaken her for the last time.

  I stood in the Dunsburyshire morgue and stared at her cold, stiff, lifeless body. The town of Dunsburyshire, population 5437, which was typically a stranger to death by any means other than natural causes, had seen a recent and disturbing uptick in its previously non-existent murder rate. I’d lived here all thirty-nine years of my life and never once feared for my safety. Had I been deluding myself with a false sense of security all this time, or had my dear hometown just taken a sudden unfortunate turn for the worse?

  That was a question that the future would be more than happy to reveal in due time. Currently, other pressing matters commanded my attention. I kept staring at Lara’s blank eyes, amazed that they had once been so vibrant.

  Being around the recently deceased was never a comfortable experience, but I was especially squeamish because Lara wasn’t just some stranger who’d passed away in her sleep. She was an old friend of mine who had been murdered in cold blood. If that wasn’t enough, the specific circumstances surrounding her ultimate demise were mysterious, particularly in regards to who had committed the murder.

  For the moment, I didn’t want to think about that. There was plenty of time to sort out those details. This, to me, was about saying a last goodbye. Sure there would be a funeral for Lara in the not-so-distant future, but judging by trauma to the head, it was not shaping up to be an open casket affair. Also, at a public ceremony, I would be surrounded by other funeral-goers. Right then, it was just Lara and me.

  Depending on who you talked to, they’d most likely have a very distinct opinion of who Lara Peabody was. She had a strong personality, which elicited responses on both ends of the spectrum. Her family and employees at her chain of book shops often shared negative views of her. Meanwhile, as her friend, I only had good things to say about her.

  I was still very much trying to get over the shock of having her gone. I’d always known her as an energetic, passionate woman who was never afraid to speak her mind. When I was around her, I could rarely get a word in edgewise. That’s why it was so disturbing to see her now with her mouth closed, knowing it would never open again.

  Despite her bluster and the distinct lack of filter when it came to her opinions, she also had a heart of gold. A lot of people didn’t ever dig deep enough to see it, but that was their loss. If I was defensive of my friend, it was because I felt she was deeply misunderstood sometimes. Besides, she was more than just a friend to me.

  On some levels, I almost viewed Lara as a maternal figure--sort of like the mum I never had, albeit one who came into my life as an adult rather than as a child. My birth mum, God bless her soul, passed away from a heart attack when I was only four years old. Because of that, I grew up with a mum-sized void in my heart.

  My father raised me and did an honorable job, but despite his best efforts, one thing he couldn’t replicate was a feminine touch. It should have come as no surprise that during my entire childhood, I was a tomboy. Even deep into adulthood, I was rarely mistaken for a girly-girl. We were all products of the environment we were raised in, but it was only when I met Lara eight years ago at a book club meeting that I realized just how different I was than women who grew up with mothers.

  Despite her boisterous tendencies, Lara was undeniably feminine. She loved cooking, shopping, makeup, and cosmopolitans. Of course, as the owner of a chain of bookstores, she loved reading too, which was what allowed us to hit it off so well. Surprisingly, she had a void in her life as well.

  While I had grown up without a mother, she’d spent her adulthood raising ungrateful children. All three of her offspring were cold to her and didn’t show even the slightest hint of appreciation for all the effort she’d put into raising them. So, when Lara met me, someone who did enjoy spending time with her, it warmed her heart.

&n
bsp; That’s why it was so difficult for me to stomach the fact that she was gone. It was bad enough to lose my real mum. Seeing Lara’s life cut so tragically short just added insult to injury. Having to say an early goodbye to her under such heartbreaking circumstances was absolutely devastating.

  At the same time, as uncomfortable of a sight, as it was staring down my deceased friend, I couldn’t seem to look away. I just kept looking at her, wondering how this could have happened. Make no mistake; this was a terrible loss that would take months if not years to fully get over.

  I stood there, my emotions completely raw, and troubled beyond belief. Death was never an easy thing to grapple with, but in this case, it was so shocking that it had left me speechless. There were so many things I wanted to say to her even though I knew she couldn’t hear any of them. I kept thinking maybe her spirit could if it hadn’t been carried off to heaven yet. If so, she’d probably be disappointed in how thoroughly my tongue was tied.

  I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself, but regardless of the effort I put in, I was unable to pull myself together. If anything, the longer I stood there, the bigger wreck I became. I’d always thought of myself as a woman who was stronger than I looked, yet there I was, completely falling apart. Before the sight of her body became too much for me to take, I uttered the only words that I was able to muster.

  “I just want you to know that I’m not going to rest until I find out who did this to you.”

  Chapter Two

  I stood out in the car park below an overhang, safely out of reach of the drizzle that fell on the cement in front of me. It was a hazy day. Not only had the sun not bothered to come out yet, but it looked like it was planning to take the whole day off. What unfortunate timing.