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Greenhouse Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1-6

Page 144

by Wendy Tyson


  Megan stared down at the man underneath her, afraid to let up.

  The kitchen door slammed open. Porter and Clay rushed in alongside Gunther and Sarge. The dogs barked and growled at the man on the floor.

  Clay picked up the gun.

  “Stand down,” Porter told Sarge, who was dangerously close to Dom’s face.

  “You can get up, Megan,” Clay said. He tugged at her arm gently, the arm that was still digging into Dom’s neck. “He’s passed out from the pressure. Let up or you’ll kill him.”

  Drained, Megan rolled off Dom. She looked up at Clay and Porter. “Bibi,” she said, winded. “Parlor.”

  “I think King’s here.” Clay kept the gun aimed at the unconscious man while Porter went to release Bibi. “We heard Bonnie screaming. I don’t know what the hell happened, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Me, too,” Megan said. “I might not have been if it weren’t for Bibi and her rules about caffeine and tea.”

  Twenty-Seven

  “We have an APB out for Melanie’s arrest,” King told Megan. They were sitting in a conference room at the police station, and King was taking her statement. “Don’t worry, Megan, we’ll find her.” King looked at her with concern. “Do you know how Dominick even knew where you lived?”

  “Wouldn’t be hard to find. He knew Penny’s body was found at the Marshall property. Wouldn’t take much to find Washington Acres.” Megan cradled her head with her hand. The headache that had been threatening for days was on full force. “What he planned to do here, I don’t know.”

  “We think he planned to take Bonnie and use her as bait to get you to come to him. We found more rope and chloroform in his car.” King’s frown deepened. “He was going to scare you—or kill you.”

  Megan nodded. “Hopefully, he’ll be away for hood.” She had hit the video record button on her phone when she sensed Dom come into the kitchen, and King had listened to their exchange three times.

  “Unfortunately, he doesn’t really admit to anything beyond working with Melanie and hating David,” King said. “But we’ll place this into evidence. If we can find Melanie or Duke—”

  “I think Duke is dead.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “I’m not certain, but think about it. Originally, I thought Duke and Melanie were working alone, but Dom’s involvement changes things. Dom has the real power here. What good does having a knucklehead like Duke around do for them? He’s a partier and womanizer with a history of gambling. He was probably enticed by the promise of wealth to help Melanie carry out her plans. After that, useless. Worse, not trustworthy.”

  “We’ve checked his house. His car is missing.” King looked skeptical. “I sent two of our best down to Chestnut Hill to look there.”

  Megan’s head was pounding, but the mention of the Chestnut Hill house sparked Megan’s memory. Megan looked up. “I think I know where you will find his body.”

  King looked at her quizzically. “Where?”

  “There’s a small, stinky pond on the Chestnut Hill property. Denver thought it was once a small fish pond, a little bigger than a coffin, but deep and full of goop—dead leaves and branches. A body weighted down well might never be discovered. At least not until someone moves into the house and tries to clean out the pond.”

  “Like the killers,” King said. “If Dominick and Melanie dump Duke’s body, then get possession of the house, they would never have to worry he would be found.”

  “Right. A perfect crime. At least in the eyes of a psychopath.”

  “Or a pair of psychopaths.”

  One of King’s officers entered the small room. “Chief, we need you for a moment.”

  King nodded curtly. “Can I get you anything, Megan?”

  “Maybe Tylenol? And an update on my grandmother?”

  King smiled. “Done.”

  King returned with Denver, two Tylenol, a glass of water, and an update on Bibi.

  “Bonnie’s been checked out by a paramedic. She’s fine. Feisty as ever.”

  “Thanks, Bobby.” Megan accepted the glass of water and swallowed the painkillers.

  “And we have some good news.” King pulled up a seat at the table. He exchanged a knowing look with Denver. “We found Melanie.”

  Megan’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “At her mother’s?”

  King said, “Close. En route. The APB had provided details on both her and her mom’s cars. Dom must have tipped Melanie off. She and Veronica were caught about a half hour away from Veronica’s house.”

  “Think the mother was involved?” Denver asked.

  “It’s possible she knew what was happening, but we don’t think she was part of the planning.”

  “Getting Melanie to confess will be a Herculean feat,” Megan said. “She’s a good actress. I think she even bullshits herself.”

  “If we find Duke’s body, that will make things easier. But there’s still the issue of Claire.”

  “I know where she’s staying,” Megan said softly. It was something she’d been thinking about for a while. “Remember I saw the light in the house in Philly?” Megan said to Denver. When he nodded, she said, “I thought it was Claire who was squatting there. But you were right—for her, that would be a house of ghosts.”

  “It was Duke?” King asked.

  “Yes. Claire’s been staying with her brother, Evan. He’ll deny it. I went there and the place was a mess, but what better cover for a neat freak like Claire?’

  “We’ll check it out.”

  “She may come forward before you find her. Especially once she finds out Melanie and Dom are in custody.” Megan sipped the water. It tasted metallic.

  “I hope so,” King said.

  “While your officers are there, take the CDs from her room.”

  King tilted his head. “CDs?”

  “I have a hunch, Bobby. Evan mentioned that his sister had left behind ‘worthless CDs.’ I believe Melanie and Dom conspired to kill David—”

  King interrupted, “It’s difficult to prove he was murdered, not without a body or a confession, and right now the latter looks unlikely and the former is in ashes in an urn underground.”

  “If you have strong enough proof of planning coupled with a body and strong motive, it may be enough,” Megan said. “If you find Claire and have witness testimony, even better.”

  “What do you think those CDs contain?” Denver asked.

  “I don’t know, but why keep them if they’re not important? She kept nothing else.”

  Twenty-Eight

  It felt good to be home with Bibi and Denver. It felt even better knowing Dom and Melanie were in custody. The fact that Dom had come here to their home unnerved Megan, but she had, in effect, led him here. Had she never reached out to talk with him, he might not have bothered with her. She put Bibi at risk, and she wasn’t sure she could forgive herself for that.

  At the same time, had Dom not come, he’d still be at large. With Melanie in Winsome, who knew what problems they could have caused.

  “Ultimately, it was a blessing,” Bibi said. “That man never hurt me. As a matter of fact, we had a lovely talk over cake and coffee before you arrived. Then I invited him to wait in the parlor. Of course, when the gun came out, I knew he wasn’t so nice.”

  “Why’d he tie you up?” Denver asked.

  “I may have tried to hit him with a plate.”

  “Oh, Bibi.” Megan shook her head.

  “Don’t laugh. It was your great-grandmother’s best cake plate. The one with a heavy base. Would have made a mighty dent if he hadn’t wrestled it away.”

  Megan had put together a simple salad, and they were eating it with a loaf of Bibi’s sourdough bread and some cheese. Denver had brought wine, and he poured a glass for himself and Megan. Bibi declined.

  “The b
it about the tea was brilliant.” Megan shared the story with Denver. “I knew she wouldn’t ask for black tea after coffee.”

  “He told me to act normal!”

  “Well, once you accepted cream in your tea, I knew we were in trouble.”

  Denver sat back and refolded his napkin on his lap. “You too know each other well.”

  Megan smiled at her grandmother. We sure do.

  “How about hosting that grand opening?” Denver asked. “This Saturday. Ryan says the house is mostly finished. Porter is out of the barn. Clay, Porter, and I can help you and Bibi get ready.”

  “The town could use the celebration,” Bibi said.

  Megan was tired. Bone tired. But a celebration sounded good.

  “Only if we keep it simple. Very simple.”

  Bibi nodded. “Simple it is.”

  When they were finished doing dishes, after Denver had left to attend to his dogs and dusk had fallen in Winsome, Bibi tugged on Megan’s arm.

  “Can we go for a walk?” she asked.

  “Now, Bibi? It’s late. I’m tired, you must be tired.” When Bibi didn’t back down, Megan said, “Fine. A walk.”

  Megan waited while her grandmother put on her sneakers. Bibi was wearing linen drawstring pants and a “Winsome Proud” rainbow shirt, a leftover from Megan’s father’s souvenir shop so many years ago. She looked tiny and frail to Megan tonight.

  “How about your cane?” Megan said.

  “Don’t need it. I have you.” She grabbed a keyring out of a kitchen drawer.

  Megan and Bibi, with Gunther and Sadie following, headed into the yard.

  “Are we going somewhere in particular?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Megan felt a flutter of anxiety, but she quelled it. Killers were behind bars, Bibi was out moving about—it was a good night. They walked past the barn, past the outdoor patio, past the greenhouses, and to the fields that separated the Washington Acres property and the old Marshall property.

  “Look what Ryan and Porter did,” Bibi said.

  Where there had been a muddy meadow between the two properties, a stone path now led the way from the farm to the restored Marshall house. The men had leveled the area. They’d put down simple pavers, with a few feet mowed on either side—enough to walk comfortably, even in the dark.

  “It looks amazing,” Megan said, awed. While she had been running around after the von Tresslers, the men had conspired to do this.

  “My gift to you,” Bibi said.

  Megan hugged her grandmother. “I love it.”

  “There’s something else.”

  Megan followed Bibi across the pathway and to the Marshall house. Their progress was slow but steady. Once at the house, Bibi unlocked the front door with the keyring she’d pocketed back at the farm. She opened the door, flipped on the light, and led Megan inside.

  The entry looked just as it had when Ryan had showed it to her, only now it was pristine. Walls wiped down, floors mopped, windows washed. Ryan did nice work.

  “This way.” Bibi went through the kitchen—also immaculately clean now—and stopped at the door to the caretaker apartment. She used a different key to open this door.

  Megan entered behind her grandmother. It looked the same as last time she’d seen it: spacious and modern and bright. Bibi walked through the main living area and into the bedroom. She opened the bathroom door and pointed to the shower. Grab bars had been installed along the rear wall.

  “Good idea,” Megan said.

  “Ryan did that for me.”

  Megan blinked, unsure what her grandmother was telling her. “Why?”

  “This is where I want to live. It’s perfect, Megan. One floor. At the farm. Near you, but I’ll have my own space.”

  Central air, zoned heating, a pretty view…Megan could see the appeal.

  “You’ll be alone.”

  “You’ll be a few seconds away. Plus, Ryan’s putting an alarm system in.”

  “You hate alarm systems.”

  “If it means my independence, and it makes you happy, I’m all for them.” Bibi smiled. “I told you I would tell you when I need something. I need something.” When Megan didn’t respond, Bibi said, “Look, the doc says my joints are old and I’m riddled with arthritis. That’s not going to improve. I don’t want a lift on the steps at the farmhouse, and I don’t want to lose my parlor to a makeshift bedroom. I don’t want to be coddled or treated like a child.”

  “Bibi, I—”

  “Not that you’ve done any of those things. Well, maybe occasionally.” Another smile. “I want to be with you, but I also want to be independent. Here, I can be useful. I can man the front desk, teach bread-making, greet guests. You don’t have to pay me. I have a nice kitchen, all the amenities, and I can come and go as I please. You’ll be here when I need you.” She put her hands on small hips. “And no stairs.”

  Megan felt her eyes stinging. Before she knew it, warm tears were spilling down her face.

  “If you don’t want me to,—” Bibi sounded alarmed.

  Megan shook her head. She leaned up against the wall and put her head back. The anxiety and concern of the prior weeks came pouring out, and she sobbed until she felt dry and empty.

  Once she had herself together, Megan hugged her grandmother.

  “You’re okay with this, Megan? I’m not ruining your plans?”

  “I think it’s a grand idea.”

  “You’ll always be welcome.”

  “It’ll be an adjustment.”

  Bibi nodded. “And maybe Sadie can visit me from time to time.”

  “Any time you like.”

  “It’s settled then,” Bibi said. She took Megan’s hand, stroked the side of her face. “Now you may have to carry me back to the farm. That was a long walk.”

  Megan squeezed her hand. “Something tells me you’ll be just fine.”

  Twenty-Nine

  The call from King came Thursday night, after Megan and Bibi had gone to bed.

  “Did I wake you?”

  Yes. “No, no…what’s up, Bobby? Did you find Claire?” After everything, including her own tragic connection to the family’s deceased father, Megan felt a certain responsibility for Claire, one she couldn’t shake.

  “Not yet. But I thought you’d want to know that you called it—well, mostly.”

  Megan waited. This was news she knew was coming, but she’d been anxious to hear, nonetheless.”

  “Duke’s remains were recovered at the Philly house.”

  “In the little fishpond?”

  “Some of him was there, yes. Some parts were found in fresh graves in the on-site cemetery.”

  Megan digested the awful gruesomeness of those statements. “Which means he’d been killed pretty recently, after Denver and I were there, anyway. It had been dark, but I think we would have noticed fresh dirt in that tiny area.” She closed her eyes, thinking of her former contractor. “I’m sorry to hear this.”

  “I was too.”

  “How about the CDs? Anything useful?”

  “It took me most of today to get a warrant, which is why I’m calling so late. We searched Evan’s house. At first he stuck to his story that Claire hadn’t been there in weeks, but when we gently reminded him that he’s on parole and lying to the police could land him back in the slammer, suddenly his tune changed.”

  “She has been crashing there.”

  “Yes. There, and with Olive.”

  “So Olive knew all along. She pointed a finger at me to protect Claire.”

  King yawned. “Sorry, been up for almost twenty-four hours. At first Olive thought you were involved because of the material on Penny’s computer, but eventually Claire reached out to her. After that, she continued to keep up the search façade just to protect her sister. She was relieved to fin
d out Melanie and Dom had been caught.”

  Megan could see that. Olive and Penny were, if nothing else, protective. She said, “The family seemed to genuinely take care of one another.”

  “Which made it harder for me to sort through the lies and almost-lies. I owe you my gratitude.”

  Megan smiled. “I have your back.” She repositioned herself in bed. Sadie stretched, yawned, and went back to sleep—not an apparent care in the world. “The CDs?”

  “I was getting to that. We took them. You were right. They’re tapes transferred to CDs, and what’s on those tapes would be incriminating to Melanie and Dominick.”

  “Would be?”

  “From what we can tell, and we’re still reviewing them, David must have gotten wind that Melanie and his nephew were plotting against him in order to split the business. He installed tapes and video cameras throughout the new house. We have footage of Melanie and Duke, as well as hours of recorded conversations between Melanie and Dominick.”

  Thinking like a litigator, Melanie said, “But he recorded them without their knowledge or permission, so you’re thinking the tapes are inadmissible.”

  “Bingo. The tapes make it clear that they planned to do away with David. With David out of the way, Melanie would be a better choice than Claire. And if Claire was pinned for her sister’s murder—or killed—then there was no choice to make at all.”

  “And the stone through Melanie’s window?”

  “Could have been Melanie, trying to set the stage that Claire was behind this. Could have been a random act like your grandmother’s tire.”

  Megan thought back to the Philly house, to the content of those CDs. “So poor Duke was never in it for the long term, whether or not he wanted to be.”

  “A happy idiot—isn’t that what they’re called? Melanie convinced him he would get rich. Disposed of him when he’d outlived his usefulness.” A pause. “Again, you were right.”

  “That’s no consolation. Three people are dead.”

  “And at least one is still alive, thanks to you.”

 

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