“Sorry. I was just trying to spare you the ugly details.”
“Okay. I just want you to know that if you do change your mind and eventually feel like talking, I’m all ears.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Sabrina. You’re always there for me.”
“That’s what friends are for.” I smiled at her. “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”
Daphne sighed. “If you can tell me how to stop my family from being so crazy, I’d love to hear it.”
Instead of focusing on her response, I couldn’t help but get wrapped up in her facial expression. Daphne looked like she wanted to take back her words the moment they came out of her mouth. Unfortunately, it was too late for that.
I knew exactly what she was going through. I had been in that exact spot many times before. Not the crazy family part, mind you, but the blurting out of thoughts that were meant to be kept private.
Since I was so familiar with that kind of embarrassment, I made a point not to draw any further attention to it.
I made no comment. Instead, I let her get the next word in.
“There I go, putting my foot in my mouth.” Daphne shook her head. “It has just been one of those days.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “Craziness just comes in bunches, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely. It doesn’t have the decency to space itself out.”
“Or to stay out of your life entirely.”
“There’s a fat chance of that ever happening,” Daphne said. “Especially with my family.”
“I’m sorry you’re having problems,” I said.
She grimaced. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to talk about it.”
I backed off. “Right. Of course.”
“But since I already let the cat out of the bag, I guess I’ll just tell you,” Daphne said.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to,” I said.
Daphne was unable to keep her thoughts from spilling out of her mouth. “William is really concerned about his brother.”
William was Daphne’s husband. He was a sweet guy. Which made this family strife concerning his brother, Eric, all the more heartbreaking.
“Because?” I asked.
“Eric’s drinking problem has been driving a wedge between them for a while, but it really came to a head a few days ago. William keeps pushing Eric to get help, but Eric refuses to even admit that his drinking is a problem.”
“Is William going to hold an intervention?”
Daphne shrugged. “I don’t know. But even if William does intervene, it doesn’t mean that Eric will get the help he needs.”
“True. Some people live in a constant state of denial.”
“Something is going to have to give. Things can’t continue this way much longer.”
I looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I’m so sorry you and William are in such a tough spot. I hope your brother-in-law comes to his senses.”
“I’ve been praying that he does.” Daphne took a deep breath. “Anyway, I should be getting back home. William is expecting me.”
She got up from the table. I gave her a hug. “Stay strong. And take care.”
“I’ll try,” Daphne said.
As I watched Daphne head toward the front door of the restaurant, I caught sight of an altercation taking place in the parking lot outside. If it wasn’t shocking enough that two men were on the verge of coming to blows in the parking lot, the fact that Chuck Tillman and Trevor Franklin were the ones doing the arguing only made the situation even more incendiary.
I called out to my friend. “Daphne. Hold on a minute. Don’t go out there yet.”
Daphne stopped and stared out the front window of the restaurant. “What’s going on out there?”
“I’m going to find out,” I said. I turned to my husband, who was sitting at a table about ten feet away from me. “David, are you seeing this?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
David and I exited the restaurant and sprinted out to the parking lot.
“What’s going on out here?” David yelled.
The moment Trevor and Chuck heard David’s booming voice, they immediately stopped arguing and scrambled to flee the scene.
For Trevor, making a quick getaway was rather easy. He was already sitting on his motorcycle. He fired up his ignition and sped away.
That move drew David’s ire. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
With David’s focus on Trevor, Chuck tried to slip away on foot undetected.
He didn’t make it very far.
David spotted Chuck and pulled out his gun.
“Stop right now!” David demanded.
Chuck stopped dead in his tracks.
With Chuck going nowhere, David grabbed his radio with his spare hand and spoke into it. “Dispatch. This is Carlson. I need pursuit near Treasure Cove Cantina. Burly male in his early fifties on a black motorcycle heading north on Lantern Drive.”
A female voice responded over the radio. “Copy that.”
David put the radio away and approached Chuck.
I followed David.
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” David said.
“Me? What about Trevor?” Chuck asked.
“Right now I’m focused on you,” David said.
“Can you put the gun away?” Chuck said.
“That depends,” David said. “Are you going to try and give me the slip again?”
Chuck jumped on the defensive. “I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me. I want to hear nothing but the truth. Got it?” David said.
Chuck nodded.
“Good,” David said.
“So are you going to put the gun away now?” Chuck asked.
David holstered his pistol.
Chuck breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s time for you to come clean. What were you and Trevor arguing about?” David asked.
“It wasn’t as much of an argument as it was Trevor threatening me,” Chuck said.
“About what?” David said.
“He told me to stay away from Barbara,” Chuck said.
David squinted. “What business do you have with Barbara?”
“I told you this before. There’s something fishy with her. Although, Trevor is a real piece of work too,” Chuck said.
“Let’s focus on Barbara for a moment. You keep telling us you’re suspicious of her, but do you have even the slightest bit of evidence that she’s done anything wrong?” David asked.
“I just know what I feel in my gut,” Chuck said.
“And your gut instinct about Barbara hasn’t changed, even after Jeremy Bradford’s suicide?” David said.
“Not in the least,” Chuck said.
I spoke up. “I have a gut feeling of my own—”
“About Barbara?” Chuck asked.
I shook my head. “About Jeremy Bradford.”
Chuck gave me a blank stare. “What about him?”
“What if I told you there’s a chance that Jeremy didn’t really kill himself?” I said.
“Then how did he die?” Chuck asked.
“I believe he was murdered,” I said.
I paid close attention to Chuck’s reaction.
He became very tense the moment I said murder.
“That’s crazy,” Chuck said.
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked.
“What do you want from me? I don’t know anything about Jeremy’s death except what I heard on the news,” Chuck replied.
“You could see why we’d have a hard time believing that,” I said. “Especially given this recent outburst between you and Trevor—”
Chuck groaned. “I know what you’re thinking, and I had nothing to do with Jeremy’s death.”
“It would be nice if you could prove it,” I said.
“That’s simple. Tell us where you were yesterday between one and two o’clock in the afternoon,” I said.
“Uh…” Chuck tra
iled off and became pensive. “I was at home.”
“Alone?” David asked.
“I was at home, all right?” Chuck snapped.
“Answer the question. Were you alone?” David said.
“Yes,” Chuck said. “I didn’t kill Mark. Or Jeremy.”
“I wish I could believe that,” David said.
“Are you going to arrest me?” Chuck asked.
David stared at Chuck long and hard. “No. But I am going to keep my eyes on you. Don’t even think about leaving town for a while. Got it?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
While investigating a case, it wasn’t uncommon for me to entertain half a dozen different theories. Some were crazier than others. David had made it clear where he stood on my theory about Jeremy’s death not being the result of a suicide.
Had that last conversation with Chuck changed his mind? Chuck certainly hadn’t done himself any favors back there. He was awfully confrontational for a man who claimed to be innocent.
As I went over the conversation in my head, I became more convinced than ever that Jeremy’s death was a murder and not a suicide.
But at the moment, there was more to consider. Shortly after our interview with Chuck ended, David got a call from the deputy who had given chase to Trevor Franklin’s motorcycle. According to the deputy, he had caught up with Trevor on Wadsworth Avenue. The deputy was currently detaining Trevor.
David and I headed over to Wadsworth Avenue to question Trevor.
Even though there was plenty to discuss, David was surprisingly tight-lipped on the drive over to Trevor’s location.
I looked over at him from the passenger seat and saw him grimacing behind the wheel.
“I get the sense that Chuck wasn’t happy to see us,” I deadpanned.
When I started a conversation off on such a wry note, David typically replied with a sarcastic comment. Or at least a playful one. That didn’t happen this time.
Instead he replied tersely. “Yeah.”
I patiently waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t say another word.
For the time being, he was keeping his opinions to himself. Judging by the pained expression on his face, he was wrestling with all sorts of emotions.
He wasn’t alone. We were in the same boat. He just happened to want a quiet trip over to Wadsworth Avenue.
I had different plans. In my mind, there was too much that needed to be discussed to spend the entire car ride sitting silently. So I decided to steer the conversation.
“Is that all you have to say?” I asked.
David exhaled. “I’m working through a lot of stuff right now. At least I’m trying to.”
“Let’s work through it together,” I said.
“That’s easier said than done. I’m having a really hard time making sense of what just happened.”
“I have a theory.”
“I know you do.”
“You have to admit. It’s starting to look like a pretty good theory,” I said.
“I don’t have to admit anything. Especially since you still don’t have proof to back it up,” David replied.
“You saw how uneasy Chuck was back there.”
“Yes. And while that was suspicious, it wasn’t proof.”
“I get that you aren’t totally convinced of my theory yet—”
“You just couldn’t resist throwing in that yet, could you?”
“I’m all ears if you have another theory.”
“Jeremy still could have committed suicide.”
“I meant, a third theory.”
“I’m not interested in concocting random theories. I just want to know the truth.”
“So do I. Which is why I can’t help but wonder what reason Chuck would have had to be so abrasive with us.”
“There is still the possibility that Chuck just wasn’t in the mood to talk to us.”
“I’m not buying that for a second. Are you?”
David winced. “I’m torn.”
I squinted. “Are you really that on the fence?”
“I just told you I was—”
“I know. But here’s the thing. Back there, when I brought up the subject of Jeremy’s death being staged to look like a suicide, you could have shut me down. Instead you let me keep going.”
“Because I wanted to see how Chuck would react to that statement.”
“I think you’re less torn than you’re willing to admit.”
“Why don’t we focus on Trevor Franklin?”
“Speaking of Trevor, if you truly believe that Jeremy killed himself, then why are we heading to the north end of town to question Trevor right now?” I said.
“Sabrina, I’m trying to reserve my judgment.”
I snickered. “Uh-huh.”
“Look. Chuck and Trevor just had a big argument. I want to get Trevor’s side of the story.”
“Mostly because that argument didn’t need to happen in the first place. If I were either of them, I would have done everything in my power to avoid an incident. I certainly wouldn’t have caused a scene in a public place.”
“You know how high emotions run sometimes. Especially when things get stressful.”
“If they thought things were stressful before, they haven’t seen anything yet. It’s about to get even hotter under Trevor’s collar.”
“Feel free to turn up the heat as high as you want. Because unless we can get any of these suspects to slip up, we don’t have much to work with other than random speculation.”
“I wouldn’t rule out one of these suspects cracking.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Hey, I’m not banking on it,” I replied. “That said, we’ve seen it happen before. Besides, you never know what might happen next.”
“True. Although that scares me a lot more than it comforts me,” David said.
“The only thing I’m afraid of is the real killer getting away. I can’t wait to see what Trevor has to say for himself.”
“You won’t have to wait long. We’re only a few blocks away from his location.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Wadsworth Avenue was known as a quiet street on the northeast side of town. But that afternoon, Trevor Franklin was making all sorts of noise. As a matter of fact, I heard him complaining the moment David turned onto the street.
David parked his sedan behind Deputy Randy Whitford’s squad car. Trevor was being detained in the backseat of the police cruiser.
David and I approached the squad car. That was when Trevor gave us an earful.
“What’s the big idea?” Trevor barked.
“Will you calm down?” David said.
Trevor shook his head. “You have no right to hold me like this.”
“Are you kidding? After what you just pulled back there in the parking lot, we have every right to detain you for questioning,” David said.
“This is insane,” Trevor said.
“Do you want me to drag you all the way back to the police station? Because if you don’t calm down, that’s exactly what I’ll do,” David said.
“I don’t have to talk to you,” Trevor said.
“True. But if you have nothing to hide, then why not just answer my questions?” David said.
Trevor squinted. “I thought the Mark Wilcox case was closed. They are running stories about it all over the news. So what do you want from me?”
“I want to know why you sped away from the parking lot the minute you spotted Sabrina and me,” David said.
“Because I didn’t want you hassling me,” Trevor said.
“So it wasn’t because you were in the middle of doing something suspicious?” David asked.
Trevor shook his head. “Where would you get that idea?”
“Chuck told us you threatened him,” David said.
Trevor scoffed. “What a liar. If anything, you need to give him a talking to.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why is that?”
“Chuck has bee
n harassing both Barbara Franklin and me. So I told him to knock it off.”
“You didn’t threaten him then?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Trevor said. “Now are we done?”
“Far from it,” David said.
“But I answered your questions,” Trevor said.
“We have more,” David said.
“This is infuriating,” Trevor snapped.
“Trevor, you realize that you aren’t doing yourself any favors right now—” David started to say.
“Why does that matter?” Trevor asked. “Like I told you before, I’ve watched the news. The case is closed. Jeremy Bradford killed himself because he felt guilty about murdering Mark Wilcox. So why are you wasting your time badgering me?”
“Because there’s a possibility that Jeremy’s death wasn’t a suicide,” I said.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t see what that has to do with me,” Trevor said.
David stared Trevor down. “I think you do.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” Trevor asked.
“No. I’m just saying that we have our suspicions,” David replied.
“Of what?” Trevor asked.
“If I’m correct and Jeremy was murdered, it means his killer is on the loose,” I said.
Trevor gritted his teeth. “And let me guess, you think I’m a suspect.”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I said.
“Let me save you some time,” Trevor said. “I didn’t kill Jeremy.”
“Trevor, I’m not in the business of taking a suspect at their word,” David said.
“Yeah? Well I’m telling you the truth,” Trevor said.
“There’s one easy way to prove that,” David said. “Where were you yesterday between one and two o’clock in the afternoon?”
“I was watching the Marauders game on TV,” Trevor said.
“Where?” David asked.
“At home.”
“Were you alone?” David asked.
Trevor nodded.
“That’s a shame,” David said.
“It would only be a shame if I did something wrong. But I didn’t,” Trevor said.
“I really wish you could prove that,” David said.
“Look. You can keep questioning me all you want, but we both know that you don’t have anything on me,” Trevor said.
Mysteries of Treasure Cove Cozy Mystery Boxed Set Page 19
