Mysteries of Treasure Cove Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

by Meredith Potts

  David held his pointer finger up. “Before we go any further, I’m going to warn you that it is a crime to lie to a police detective.” He stared her down. “Now, are you really going to pretend like you weren’t sleeping with Wally?”

  She lowered her head.

  David grew impatient. “Amanda—”

  “I would never hurt him,” she said.

  “Even though he broke up your marriage?” David asked. “And then told you he wanted to stay with his wife rather than run off with you?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not happy about how things turned out between Wally and me,” Amanda said.

  David scoffed. “That’s an understatement. From what we hear, you were as angry as could be.”

  “There’s a big difference between being angry and committing murder,” she said.

  “With some people, that line is much thinner than you realize,” he said.

  “Detective, I’m not a violent person.”

  “Mrs. Hartley, if you want to convince me that you are innocent, there’s one easy way to do it.”

  Amanda’s nose scrunched. “How?”

  “By telling me where you were last night,” David replied. “And don’t say you were here at the hotel. Then I’ll know you’re lying to me.”

  “I was at my friend Valerie’s place,” Amanda said. “I have been staying there since my husband kicked me out of the house.”

  David pulled out his phone. “What’s Valerie’s number?”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re going to call her?”

  “Of course.”

  She grimaced. “Don’t bother.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Valerie worked late last night.”

  “So you were alone at her house?”

  Amanda nodded.

  “Unfortunately, that doesn’t help your case,” David said.

  “No,” Amanda said. “But it’s the truth.”

  “According to you.”

  “Detective, if I had anything to hide, I could have just made something up—”

  David folded his arms. “Mrs. Hartley, I’m still not convinced that you aren’t hiding something.”

  Amanda gritted her teeth. “I told you. I didn’t kill Wally. Now, can I get back to work?”

  He held his pointer finger up. “One more thing.”

  She groaned. “What is it?”

  “Your estranged husband,” David said. “Do you think he might have done this?”

  Amanda quietly contemplated David’s question for a few seconds. She then shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  That was far from a vote of confidence. But Amanda didn’t slam her estranged husband either. She honestly didn’t seem to know if her spouse was guilty or innocent.

  David and I set out to discover the truth. We headed over to the south side of town to speak with Jim Hartley. When we arrived at Helton Avenue, David parked in the driveway of Jim’s beige Spanish-style house. We then got out of the car, went up the walkaway and knocked on the front door a few times.

  Thirty seconds later, Jim came to the door. The beer-bellied fifty-three-year-old had a goatee, stringy long hair, and a puffy face. He looked like a roadie for a rock band.

  While I was hung up on Jim’s appearance, David’s focus was on getting to the meat of the interview.

  Jim’s nose crinkled as he looked at me and David. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Hartley?” David asked.

  “Who’s asking?” Jim replied.

  David flashed his police badge. “I’m Detective Carlson.” He pointed at me. “This is Sabrina.”

  Jim narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”

  “You haven’t heard the news?” David asked.

  “I hate the news. It’s always terrible,” Jim said.

  “I’m afraid that’s true today as well,” David said.

  Fear came to Jim’s eyes. “Wait a minute. Did something happen to Amanda?”

  David shook his head. “No. She’s fine.”

  Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He then squinted. “Wait. Then what are you doing here?”

  “Does the name Wally Tuttle ring a bell?” David asked.

  Jim tried to keep a cool head, but an unmistakable fire came to his eyes. “Yeah. I know him.”

  “What do you think of him?” David asked.

  “Why is that important?” Jim replied.

  “Do you two not get along?” David asked.

  “How come you’re asking me questions about Wally? He’s just some guy who works for my wife at the resort,” Jim said.

  “Mr. Hartley. We know he’s a lot more than that.”

  Jim narrowed his eyes. “What are you trying to get at?”

  “Since you brought up your wife a few seconds ago, let me ask you something. Did she work last night?” David asked.

  Jim shrugged. “Why does that matter?”

  “I was just curious if you two happened to go out together for a date night or something,” David said.

  Jim squinted. “Why are you so concerned with what my wife and I did or didn’t do? And what does any of this have to do with Wally Tuttle?”

  “I will tell you that once you’ve answered my question,” David said.

  Jim folded his arms. “No. You aren’t getting another word out of me until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “How would you like to take a trip to the police station?” David asked.

  “Are you threatening me?” Jim asked.

  “No. I’m just being honest. I will get an answer to my question. I would just prefer for that to happen here instead of having to drag you into police headquarters.”

  “You are threatening me then.” Jim shot David a glare. “Well guess what? I know my rights. Like how you can’t detain me without sufficient cause. So let’s hear it. Why are you here?”

  “Wally Tuttle is dead,” David said.

  Jim’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s really awful.”

  “Do you really feel that way?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because he was sleeping with your wife,” David said. “Or should I say, your estranged wife?”

  “Wait a minute. How did you know—?”

  David cut Jim off. “That part doesn’t matter nearly as much as you think it does. What’s really important is the fact that the man who broke up your marriage was just murdered last night.”

  Jim snarled. “Wait. So that’s why you were asking so many questions about yesterday. You think I might have killed Wally.”

  David kept a cool head as he replied, “Will you please calm down?”

  “How am I supposed to do that when you show up on my doorstep and accuse me of murder?”

  “I haven’t accused you of anything.”

  “So I’m not a suspect then?”

  “Mr. Hartley, I have some very important questions that I need to ask you. Will you please let me get to them?” David asked.

  Jim groaned. “I can’t believe this.”

  “And I really wish you wouldn’t make this so difficult,” David said. “I just have a few simple questions for you.”

  “Simple?” Jim scoffed. “I doubt that.”

  “I just want to know where you were last night. That seems like a pretty simple question to me.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Your whereabouts last night are a hundred percent my business,” David said.

  Jim seethed.

  David continued. “Like I said before, we can have this conversation at the police station if you’d like—”

  Jim broke his silence. “I was at a concert.”

  “What concert?”

  “There was a rock show at The Twisted Cove Bar. Two local bands performed.”

  I had been to the Twisted Cove once before. Coincidentally, in the middle of a previous murder investigation. It was a dark and dirty bar on the ea
st side of town. The place was a complete dump. In addition, the owner was a cheapskate. He didn’t want to spend any money to improve the place. So naturally, there were no security cameras at the bar.

  “Who did you go to this concert with?” David asked.

  “No one,” Jim said. “I went by myself.”

  “Is that so?”

  “If you don’t believe me, check this out.” Jim held his arm out.

  On the back of his hand was a stamp that read: Twisted Cove Bar. The ink on the stamp was fresh enough to be from last night.

  “Now do you believe me?” Jim asked.

  “That stamp doesn’t prove you’re innocent,” David said.

  “Sure it does. I couldn’t have killed Wally. I was at the concert.”

  “Yes, at some point in the evening. But that stamp just proves that you were at the bar last night. Not that you stayed for the entire concert. You could have gone in, caught fifteen minutes of the show, and left.”

  Jim snickered. “You have to be kidding me.”

  David stared him down. “I’m dead serious. I’ve been to the Twisted Cove before. It’s dark in there. And they have a side door. It would be easy to slip out without anyone noticing. Especially in the middle of a concert.”

  Jim groaned. “I was at the concert and have the stamp to prove it. What more do you want from me?”

  “Someone to corroborate that you were there until at least ten o’clock,” David said.

  Jim exhaled. “This is insane.”

  “I guess that means you don’t have anyone who can vouch for you then.”

  “Like I said before. I went to the concert alone.”

  “You weren’t the only one in the audience, though, were you?”

  “No. There was a bunch of people there. But I didn’t know any of them.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” David said.

  Jim narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t kill Wally.”

  “All right. Say I believe you,” David replied. “If you didn’t do it, then do you have any idea who might have?”

  Jim shrugged. “It beats me.”

  “How about Amanda?”

  Jim shook his head. “She isn’t a killer.”

  “Are you sure about that? After all, she was sleeping with Wally—”

  “Has Amanda made some regrettable decisions? Yes. But being an adulterer is a far cry from being a killer.”

  “You’re awfully certain that your wife is innocent,” David said. “Unfortunately, Amanda isn’t quite as confident about you.”

  Jim squinted. “What are you talking about?”

  “We spoke with Amanda before coming over here,” David said.

  “Did she throw me under the bus?”

  “I’ll say this. She didn’t dismiss the possibility that you might be guilty,” David replied.

  Jim winced.

  “Does that change your opinion about your wife?” David asked.

  Jim shook his head.

  I stared deep into his eyes. “You still have feelings for her, don’t you? Despite the fact that you’re divorcing her?”

  Jim looked down at the ground. “That isn’t relevant.”

  “That depends. You’re still planning on filing for divorce, aren’t you?” I asked.

  Jim threw out his arms. “Why does that matter?”

  “Because maybe you had a change of heart. Perhaps you decided to give your marriage another shot. But after your wife’s affair, you didn’t want Wally to ever come between you and your Amanda again,” I said. “So you decided that you needed to get Wally out of the picture—”

  Jim cut me off. “That’s nothing but wild speculation.”

  “Is it? I mean, this wasn’t just a man who was sleeping with your wife. They worked closely together at the hotel. They saw each other practically every day. So why wouldn’t you want Wally gone?” I asked.

  “For the last time, I didn’t kill Wally,” Jim said.

  “You keep saying that, but you can’t exactly prove us wrong,” David replied.

  “You also can’t prove that I killed him,” Jim said. “Now, are we done?”

  David shook his head. “Just one more thing.”

  “What?” Jim asked.

  “Don’t go leaving town,” David said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Once David and I finished up with Jim, we were suddenly fresh out of suspects. We also had no other leads to speak of. But we did have empty stomachs. So we headed over to Shannon’s Sandwich Shop for a quick bite to eat.

  With the protein boost from the sandwiches, we figured that maybe a new idea would come our way. Unfortunately, that just proved to be wishful thinking on our part.

  Instead of going back to the police station and pouring over the case file again, David and I headed home for the evening. Once we arrived back at our house, we fired up a video chat on my laptop and spoke with our family, who were holed up in our cabin by Lake Ashford.

  After a pleasant conversation, David and I headed off to bed. Sometimes, a good night of sleep was just the answer we were looking for.

  But when we woke up in the morning, we were just as stumped as ever.

  Still, there was work to be done. So David and I grabbed some coffee and drove over to the police station.

  A few hours later, we ended up getting a new lead from an unexpected source.

  David and I were in the middle of going over the case file again when a deputy led a diminutive woman back to my husband’s desk. The gray-haired seventy-two-year-old introduced herself as Ethel Wilkerson. But her name wasn’t quite as interesting to me as the fact that she lived next door to Wally and Diane Tuttle.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Wilkerson?” David asked.

  “I might have some useful information for you regarding the Wally Tuttle murder,” Ethel said.

  Her soft voice cracked as she spoke. That was paired with a scared look in her blue eyes.

  “All right. Let’s hear it,” David said.

  Ethel held her pointer finger up. “Not so fast. Before I tell you anything, I want a reassurance from you.”

  “About what?” David asked.

  “That you aren’t going to mention to anyone that I was here,” Ethel said.

  “Why not? What’s the nature of this information that you have?” David asked.

  “I just told you. I need to know that you’re going to keep my identity confidential before I reveal what I heard,” Ethel said.

  “Because you’re afraid of retribution?” I asked.

  Fear filled Ethel’s eyes. “Of course. After all, there’s a killer on the loose. I don’t want them targeting me just because I opened my mouth.”

  “I understand your concern. It took a lot of courage to come here today. And we’re so grateful that you did,” I said.

  “Does that mean I have your reassurance?” Ethel asked.

  David nodded. “I promise I will do everything in my power to keep your identity secret.”

  Ethel breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “Now please tell me what you know,” David said.

  Ethel opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  David and I both waited impatiently for Ethel to gather her thoughts.

  Unfortunately, her tongue remained tied.

  Finally, when a few more seconds went by without a word from Ethel, David broke the silence. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry—”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I can’t help but worry. Especially given what I heard the other night,” Ethel said.

  “Miss Wilkerson. I know you’re scared. But it’s really important that you tell us what you know,” David said.

  Ethel took a deep breath, composed herself, and spoke up. “The night Wally Tuttle was murdered, I heard screaming coming from his house.”

  David’s eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?”

  Ethel nodded.

  “Was Wally doing the screaming?” David asked.

  “Actu
ally, it was his wife who was doing most of the yelling,” Ethel said. “That’s why I want my identity to stay secret. If Diane finds out I told you this, she might come after me.”

  “Wait a minute. Are you worried that Diane Tuttle might be the killer?” I asked.

  “I don’t want it to be true,” Ethel said. “But after what I heard, I certainly can’t rule out that possibility.”

  “Hold on a second. What exactly did you hear?” I asked.

  “For the majority of their argument, they were inside their house, so I can’t provide you with specifics,” Ethel said. “But at the tail end of their fight, Diane moved onto her porch. That was when I heard her yelling about how betrayed she felt that Wally had cheated on her.”

  “And how did Wally reply?” I asked.

  “He begged her to take him back,” Ethel said.

  “What was Diane’s response to that?” I asked.

  “She stormed over to her car and drove away,” Ethel said.

  I winced.

  David then picked up where I left off. “What time did this argument take place?”

  “Around seven. Maybe seven-fifteen,” Ethel said.

  That was only a few hours before the murder occurred. According to the medical examiner, Wally died sometime between nine and ten o’clock that night.

  “All right. Now think back to later that same evening. Did you hear any other noises? Like a car pulling into the driveway? Or Wally screaming again?” David asked.

  Ethel shook her head. “No. You see, after Diane drove away, I waited about fifteen minutes and then headed over to my friend Gertrude’s house for the rest of the night. I didn’t want to be anywhere near my neighborhood.”

  “I understand,” David said. “Is there anything else you have to tell me?”

  Ethel threw out her arms. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “It’s certainly rather alarming. Thank you for coming forward,” David said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After Ethel left the police station, my mind raced, but I didn’t say a word. Mostly because I was in a state of shock. I didn’t want to believe what Diane’s neighbor had just told us. But Ethel had no reason to lie.

  That said, perhaps there was more to the story than Ethel realized. Or maybe the truth was really as grim as it appeared to be.