Break-ins and Bloodshed
Hearts Grove Cozy Mystery, Book 2
Danielle Collins
Fairfield Publishing
Copyright © 2019 Fairfield Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Thank You!
1
The scent of spiced pumpkin bread mingled with mulled apple cider and permeated every nook and canny of H.H. Antiques as Henrietta Hewitt came from the backroom to the register. She breathed in deeply and admired the candle her assistant, Olivia Braddock, had brought in the day before. It was the source of the apple scent, and the loaf of bread next to it made up the other fall fragrances.
“Perfect,” she breathed out, clasping her hands together in front of her.
“Henri?”
Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Henrietta turned to face Ralph Gershwin. She’d tried in vain to get him to stop calling her Henri, but it seemed to be a losing battle. One she was, admittedly, going to give up. In short, the nickname was growing on her—not that she’d ever let Ralph know that.
“Hello there, stranger!” Ralph had been gone for two weeks at a special private investigators’ symposium in Chicago and had only gotten back the night before, evidenced by a text from him at ten-thirty at night. “How was your trip?”
Ralph shrugged and eyed the pumpkin bread. Without asking, she cut him a slice and offered it over on a napkin.
“This is good, who made it?”
She feigned hurt. “Who’s to say I didn’t?” Ralph eyed her and she smiled. “All right, I got it from next door.” She bent her head in the direction of the coffee shop, Espresso Yourself.
“Gina always makes the best baked goods.”
Henrietta nodded in agreement. “Well?” she prodded.
“It was good. I guess.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Ralph polished off the bread, licked his fingers, then crossed his arms. “Let’s just say I took one class where I learned something, and the rest of the time, I had to correct way too many mistakes at these young guys’ presentations. Amateurs. I could do a better job given the opportunity.”
“You sound like a bitter old man,” she scolded, accepting his paper napkin and tossing it in the trash.
“You’re right.” He huffed out a breath and dropped his arms. “What’s new around here? I see the fall decorations are up.”
Henrietta looked around, admiring the pumpkins that dotted the shop and the strings of leaves Olivia had finished hanging the day before.
“Yes, things are coming right along. You know fall is our busiest season.”
“So, you’ve said. Apparently, it’ll be a busy one for me too.”
“What do you mean?” Henrietta stopped brushing the crumbs off the counter to face her friend.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?” She felt alarm rising inside. This didn’t sound like good news.
“There’s been a few break-ins within the last week. I was hired by The Cliffs Housing Association to look into it.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible!”
“You wouldn’t want to help me, would you?”
She should have expected his offer. He’d been trying to get her to join his private investigation firm, Gershwin Private Investigators, with his son Scott for over a year now, but she’d declined every time. She was an antiques dealer with a shop to run, not some amateur sleuth. Then again, she’d helped him with a case not too long ago when they’d found a missing person. That had been a wild ride, and one she still thought fondly of, despite the danger of the whole ordeal.
“Aha!” Ralph leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. “You’re thinking about it.”
She was and she wasn’t. “I…” She licked dry lips and looked around her shop again. “It’s a busy season for me.”
“True, but you’ve got Olivia, and I wouldn’t need you full-time. Nothing like that. Just…here and there. A little of that keen intuition and observational skills you’ve got. You’re a real asset, Henri.”
She didn’t mind his flattery, but she couldn’t let it sway her. If she accepted something like this, she couldn’t do it halfway. Would helping Ralph on a case distract her too much from her job? From her passions? Then again, she did love solving mysteries—fictional or real, it made no difference.
“What if I did say I’d help you? Where would that lead to? I’m not letting H.H. Antiques go.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He looked shocked she’d even suggest that.
“Good.” She put her hands on her hips, allowing the excitement to show through a smile. “Then count me in—part-time.”
“Yipee!” Ralph did a little jig around the space.
“Careful now, there are expensive antiques about,” she chided him gently, smiling to soften the words. His excitement was outward while she felt the same way, just inside. Henrietta had never been accused of showing too much emotion. She hadn’t been raised to, and yet she loved seeing how happy Ralph was, knowing that she’d helped foster that emotion.
“When do we start?”
“Tomorrow.” His resolute statement caught her by surprise.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yup. I’ve got a few things to put in line before we begin. Pick you up at ten tomorrow morning?”
She consulted the shop’s calendar and nodded. “Should be fine, Olivia will be in by then and I’ll be able to slip away. But Ralph…” She waited until he was looking at her. “Can we keep this between us? I don’t want my customers thinking I’ve lost passion for the shop or am in some way distracted.”
“‘Course.” He grinned at her, pulling her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “You can be my secret partner in crime. Or, er, uncovering crime.”
His dashing smile made her stomach clench and then he was gone, whistling an off-key tune as he left the shop.
For a moment, Henrietta stood lost in her thoughts. Had she really just agreed to help Ralph Gershwin with his cases? She’d been certain her participation in the last one, though unwilling, had been her only brush with investigation, but now here she was—almost a partner to the man her best friend had loved up until the day she died.
Perhaps it was a bad decision, or perhaps it was just what Henrietta needed in her life. A little excitement.
Her first mistake had been looking into the crimes before Ralph gave her the full information. But now that she’d committed, what was she supposed to do? Sit back and wait until Ralph was ready for her help? She’d never been one to sit on the sidelines.
Then there was the reality that the papers had been sitting right next to her at the deli as if some cosmic source had conspired to supply her with the exact information she needed. The pattern had all but appeared in bold to her on the page. It was one of numbers and coincided with the streets she’d become more familiar with the more auctions she’d gone to in The Cliffs area.
The limited information she gleaned from the newspapers had indicated that each house was impenetrable—and yet there was the obvious reality that they had each been burgled. Impossible crimes, a pattern, and the next obvious choice
of houses kept Henrietta up most of the night, bringing her to solid consciousness at five in the morning.
The full six hours before she’d see Ralph was too much. Besides, as she’d convinced herself all the way through getting dressed to getting into her Mini Cooper, she was just going to check things out. Get a head start on what she and Ralph would work through later that day. It wasn’t going without him so much as preparing for him. Or so she told herself.
The streetlights lining the smoothly-paved streets of The Cliffs, an exclusive neighborhood outside of Heart’s Grove, shone brightly down on expensive houses set among perfectly-manicured lawns. Bushes were trimmed to perfection and not a stray twig, flower, or blade of grass was out of place.
She looked down at the hastily-scrawled address on the yellow legal pad she’d written everything out on. Her scrawled letters and numbers looked like the writings of a madman, but she could read it just fine. The address 1457 Bluff Avenue was circled several times in red pen and she matched the house numbers.
1421, 1423…1443.
She was almost there.
Ahead, one dark house sat among its neighbors with glowing porchlights. 1457 Bluff Avenue. Curious, why was it the only house in darkness? All the better for executing a crime perhaps?
A tingle of apprehension washed over her as she drove a few houses down before parking. While she suspected the house would be the next target for the robbers should they stick to their pattern, she wasn’t sure of the timeframe. Each previous robbery hadn’t seemed to denote a plan or a pattern of any kind. They merely offered a logical pattern as to the houses that would be burgled.
She turned off the car and paused with her hand on the door. It was almost seven in the morning—the longest she could wait until her curiosity got the better of her. And now she wasn’t as sure as before. Was it foolish to look around? The sky was getting lighter in color as sunrise approached, but it was still dark out. She knew what Ralph would say—that she was a fool to come alone.
Grabbing her phone, she shot off a quick text to Ralph—a sneaky move to cover her bases—and then got out of the car. She was only going to look. No danger involved in that, right?
Finding a path that led to the cliffs that also ran right by the house—thank you, Google Earth—she took it and slipped into the open back yard of the home. Even from the back, the whole house was dark. The sounds of the neighborhood waking reminded her that she needed to be quick about her investigation.
She stepped up onto the back porch and peered in the window. Met by darkness, she moved to the next window. The vague outline of the kitchen stared back at her. Nothing of importance that would make it seem as if this house was a target.
Descending the steps again, she saw a small sign for the alarm company. She’d seen it in the lawns of many of the houses in the area, even the house she’d parked in front of, and this time, she assessed the yard and porch for signs of the alarm company equipment. She hadn’t seen any lights blinking as she’d looked in the windows. Was the sign a fake?
There was no way to tell at this point, but she pulled out her phone and recorded the number of the company from the sign. She’d call them later. Checking her messages, she saw that Ralph’s text hadn’t been opened yet. He wasn’t one to sleep late, but perhaps he was away from his phone.
Henrietta was about to head back to her car when she heard a loud crash come from the house next to the one whose yard she still occupied. She stepped closer to the low hedge that separated the two yards. The sound of shattering glass met her, causing her pulse to spike. What was going on?
Another loud crash and the sound of running footsteps drew her to the parting in the hedge. Carefully, she poked her head through the break in the foliage but saw nothing. She stood still, trying to keep her breathing shallow to better hear in the silence of the morning, but she heard nothing more.
Careful to look both ways, she stepped into the other yard and approached the back of the house. The space between the hedge and the other house was narrow, a little like a miniature alleyway, and she slipped to the corner of the house, pausing again to listen. Nothing.
She took in the yard, peering around the corner slowly. It was sprawling, taking up even more space than the house next to it. It was almost completely shut off by a row of trees on the opposite side. The privacy they offered likely brought the house’s price up significantly, though she had no idea who the owners were.
Taking a few steps into the yard, she saw a wide covered porch on the opposite side of the yard. The stained deck was outfitted with lawn chairs and a hammock gently swaying in the light breeze. But her attention snagged on the back door, which was slightly open.
She looked up at the second story and noted that the lights were off. She’d seen a porch light on at this house, but there were no other signs of lights from inside. Taking precautions to look around her once more, she stepped up to the door. It swung in easily and noiselessly, offering her entrance without barrier.
She licked her lips and took in a slow breath before stepping in. Afraid that someone might still be there, she didn’t call out. Instead, she took in everything she saw. It looked to be a large family room. Plush couches, glass-topped tables, and a large screen TV dominating one wall.
To the right of the room was a large opening that led to what Henrietta thought might be a kitchen. Looking that way, she saw the sparkling remnants of glass covering the floor. She thought of the sound she’d heard.
With tentative steps, careful not to touch anything, she walked toward the kitchen. Her heartbeat thudded in her chest, making her hands shake. When she reached the first pieces of glass, she carefully stepped over them. Her attention was focused on the task of not disturbing evidence, but when she stopped, she was aware that something wasn’t right.
Slowly, her head moved toward the kitchen, and that was when she saw the body on the floor.
2
“I can’t believe you.” Ralph paced across the sprawling lawn of the house Henrietta had found the body in.
“It wasn’t like I was looking for a dead body,” she said, her cheeks heating at the memory of the terrible discovery. “In fact, that’s the opposite of what I was looking for.”
Ralph deflated, coming toward her. “I’m sorry, Henri. I should have asked… Are you all right?”
She felt tears sting her eyes. “Yes. It was just…shocking.”
“Of course,” he said, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “No one can get used to that sight.”
With all of his years on the police force as a detective, Henrietta knew that Ralph had seen his fair share of corpses. How had he managed to get past the sight?
She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Do they know who it is?”
He shook his head. She knew that he had access, more so than most, to police knowledge. He wasn’t so far into retirement that he hadn’t worked with some of the remaining detectives and officers—something that had aided him well in his private investigation agency. Still, there were laws that even familiarity couldn’t get around.
“What’s going to happen?”
“First off, you’re going to tell me everything.” His tone was kind but matter-of-fact. “And you’re not going to leave out anything. Got it?”
“Yes, of course.” She launched into her explanation about finding the papers at the deli and how she’d immediately seen the pattern.
“And you didn’t contact me then because…”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I realized the significance until I got home and couldn’t sleep. It was late, and I figured I’d see you at ten anyway.”
“But you still came here by yourself.”
“Well…” She offered him a sheepish look. “I was anxious. Wanted to see if there was some merit to my theory and if this house would be easily accessed and things like that. I never dreamed…” She looked back at the house and suppressed another shiver.
“Please don’t run off without me ne
xt time, Henri. I couldn’t bear to think of what I’d do without you.”
His sincerity warmed her from the inside out, and she managed to offer him a smile. “I did text you.”
He laughed. “A text won’t save your life.”
His words were sobering, but not entirely true, though she didn’t feel like arguing the point. “Right, well…” She looked back at the house. “What I don’t understand is why this house.”
“What do you mean?”
“I explained to you about the pattern I found, and this house doesn’t fit that pattern at all.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not connected. You thought it was that house, right?” He pointed to the house next door, eyeing it with renewed interest. “We’ll need to look into who owns it, as well as who owns this place.”
“They don’t know?”
“Not yet.” He rubbed his jaw and looked down at her. “They don’t even know who the woman is.”
Her eyes went wide. “Really?”
While it wasn’t that small of a town, Heart’s Grove didn’t boast much tourism unless it was during a festival. It was out of the way for most. “It’s no one from the house.”
“How is that possible?”
“Beats me.” Ralph looked over to the small group of law enforcement personnel and then eyed her. “I’ll go see what else I can find, then we can be on our way.”
Henrietta watched him walk over and then pulled her attention away, looking to the back of the house. It hadn’t been a break-in, a fact she found most intriguing. She’d observed the lock when she’d stepped inside, opening the door by pushing it in with her hand covered by her sleeve. But then there was the fact that there had obviously been a struggle, and she’d heard footsteps running away from the house.
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