Murder Drama With Your Llama (Friendship Harbor Mysteries Book 1)

by Erin McCarthy

  As I followed, I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to do this alone. There was something eerie about the stillness of the house. It got a little less creepy when she flipped on the hallway light, but I still felt a little weirded out. I could only imagine how Hannah felt.

  “I’m going to go look for Winston. I think he’s scared being here alone.”

  “Do you want me to come too?”

  She shook her head. “He’s usually just hiding under my grammy’s bed. I can get him to come out. He might not if a stranger is there.”

  That made sense. But I still gave the girl props for heading up the shadowy stairs by herself. I’d had to do it so many times on Murder, She Texted I’d gotten wary of it, especially since the crew had started to find it hilarious and would jump out of random props.

  As soon as Hannah disappeared, I headed to the room to the left of the door. It was a small living room with a wood-burning stove and plaid furniture. Very New England. But aside from some magazines and books stacked neatly on the table, there didn’t seem to be much in the room that would be particularly personal. So I continued through that room to what was supposed to be a dining room, but June had set this area up as a small office with bookshelves, an antique oak desk, and a computer.

  Score.

  I flipped on the light and carefully began to look around the room. I scanned the shelves for any books that might look like a diary or photo albums. Anything personal. I did find a photo album, but after a quick flip through it, it seemed to be only pictures of her child and grandchildren. Nothing unusual. I eased it back onto the shelf.

  Then I moved to the computer, jiggling the mouse. To my surprise the screen lit up. Still on. I cheered in my head. But of course it was asking for a password. What would an older woman make as her password? I quietly typed in Hannah. No luck. I deleted it, and pursed my lips, trying to think of any other options. Personally, I tried to keep my own passwords simple, because otherwise, I forgot them.

  Her cat.

  Carefully, I typed in her cat’s name. Winston.

  To my shock, it worked. And even more to my shock, her computer screen unlocked to reveal an open email. I scanned it. Oh my God, it was an email. From none other than Cliff Robichaud.

  I quickly scanned the typed message. It was essentially a Dear Jane letter. Cliff had broken up with her over email. And he’d said millennials were addicted to their computers and social media. A breakup via email seemed pretty harsh, even by millennial standards.

  Overall, the email was pretty nice, as far as digital breakups went. He was sorry to end things with her. He enjoyed their time together. But he’d met someone else. Okay, that had to be hard to read. And he’d fallen in love and they were planning to marry. Okay, yeah, this was a rough letter.

  But he was planning to marry. And that definitely meant the ring in his casket had been a wedding band.

  “Found him,” I heard Hannah call. I heard her footsteps moving through the upstairs. Fumbling, I felt around the side of the computer screen and found the on/off button. I pressed it and the screen went dark. I then hurried as quickly and quietly as I could to snap off the light. I walked back into the living room, poking my head out to look up the stairs. Hannah appeared with a huge orange and white tabby spilling over her arms.

  The cat didn’t look particularly stressed, although I’m sure he was wondering where his owner had disappeared to.

  “Aww, look at that big, handsome boy,” I said.

  “He’s a big baby. I wish we could keep him,” Hannah said, nuzzling her cheek against his giant feline head.

  “Can one of your grandma’s friends take Winston?”

  “Probably.”

  Hannah didn’t appear to find anything odd about the fact I’d been in her grandmother’s office room, which was good. A little guilt tightened my chest, but I pushed it aside. After all, I wasn’t snooping just to be a snoop. I was trying to figure out what was going on in this town.

  “Cliff was planning to get married,” I announced as I walked into the living room to find Oliver collapsed on the sofa.

  “What? Where have you been? I was getting worried.”

  Not so worried that he’d tried to look for me, but he did look miserable. So I guess I could forgive him.

  “I went with Hannah to feed June’s cat. And while I was there, I did some investigating. I found an email from Cliff on her computer. He broke up with her via email. Pretty cold, right?”

  He didn’t answer that. Instead, he struggled to push himself upright, moaning as he did. “Wait, you looked at her computer?”

  I nodded, grinning proudly. “I even guessed her password.”

  “Sophie, this is getting a little too much. You can’t go through someone’s private stuff. Even if she’s dead.”

  My grin faded. “Someone killed Cliff. We need to try and find out who it was.”

  He gave me a look like I was hopeless. Then he grimaced and rubbed his unusually distended belly. “But don’t you think the police are back on this? I’m sure Justin knows about the autopsy. I really think you should leave this up to them.”

  “But I'm plucky, determined, and able to see a mystery where others saw none.”

  He gave me a worried look. “Are you describing your character from your TV show?”

  “That’s how they described me in the series descriptor on streaming services.”

  “That’s how they described your character. Not you personally. Soph, I’m starting to worry about you.”

  I waved my hand as if that would brush off his concern. “So you don’t think there is an actual mystery here?”

  “I do,” he said grudgingly. “But I think we should stay out of it.”

  I frowned at him, disappointed in his lack of can-do attitude.

  He fell back onto the pillows of the sofa with another groan. “Okay, so what do you think we should do next?”

  “Well, I haven’t quite gotten that far. But I will.”

  Oliver closed his eyes. “I’m sure you will, but not tonight. Pie-eating victory comes at a heavy price.”

  I gave his prone body a sympathetic look. Okay, I would take a break for the night. Besides, I did need to figure out what the next move was anyway.

  Would it be weird if I went and binge watched Murder, She Texted? I decided it would and settled onto the bed in the guest room and watched Criminal Minds instead.

  Shemar Moore could definitely teach me a thing or two.

  Even if I learned nothing, having him in bed with me was not a bad thing.

  Eleven

  “What if June was murdered too?” I said upon entering the kitchen the next morning to find Oliver at the kitchen counter, eating a heaping bowl of cereal. “By the way, I’m glad your stomach feels better.”

  “Last night was rough, but all good now. Well, you know, until you decided one murdered local wasn’t enough.”

  I looked up from pouring my coffee and gave him a stern look. “Any murder is too much.”

  He shook his head. “True. But how did we get to the possibility June might have been another victim? You heard the EMTs say it was a massive heart attack.”

  “I know, but something about the timing seems very strange to me.” I’d stayed awake until the wee hours of the night going over and over the suspects I had. And that’s when I’d started to think about June’s untimely demise. “She seemed just fine when I talked to her earlier that evening.”

  “Well, that’s how heart attacks happen sometimes. We’ve all heard of people just dropping dead from them.”

  I nodded, joining him at the counter. I reached for the cereal. “But did you hear what she’d said to Millie as she was leaving? She said she knew a lot about all the women Cliff had affairs with. What if that made someone nervous?”

  Oliver took another bite of his cereal, chewing slowly as he considered my theory. “So what could someone give a person to cause a quick and deadly heart attack?”

  “I have no idea. B
ut thank God for Google. I’m also going to see if Justin has any info on June’s death while we’re on our date.”

  “I was hoping you’d just, you know, have fun on your date,” he said wryly. “But I’m starting to think this detective stuff is fun for you.”

  It was. But I didn’t say that, afraid it would sound pretty morose.

  “I’m just going to see what I can find out.” I took a big gulp of my coffee. “But first I have to get ready and head to the pub for the lunch shift. Brandy asked me to fill in for her.”

  “And maybe Dean will actually have time to teach you how to, say, run your own pub.”

  I made a face at him as I headed out of the kitchen. Not likely.

  “How do I look?” I asked Oliver as I stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, ready for my date with Justin. I had gone into my grandmother’s closet and pulled out a seventies sundress in a blue floral pattern.

  “Fantastic,” he said. “I’m loving this vintage vibe you have going on. You should do this more often.”

  “Thanks. I like it too. It feels like the Maine version of me. A little more relaxed.”

  “Being away from the constant rejection of Hollywood will do that for you.” Oliver sat on the bed and gave me a stern look in the mirror. “Now young lady, be home by midnight and no inappropriate touching.”

  I laughed. “You sound totally creepy right now in the role of my father. I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t think I like it either. So stay out all night and have a banging good time.”

  “I’ll settle for somewhere in between.” I was looking forward to the date. “Despite you humiliating me about my lack of social life.”

  “It was a joke, I’m sorry.”

  “Too soon, Oliver. Too soon. It’s only funny if it’s not true but it is true.” I hadn’t intended to stop dating. But after my boyfriend, Alex, and I split on reasonably good terms when he decided to join a cruise ship entertainment cast, I’d been in a funk.

  Lost relationship, lost job. Not a banner year for me.

  But despite a murderous hiccup I still felt positive that Maine was going to be a fresh start for me.

  Justin drove a truck, which didn’t surprise me, but was still an adventure to climb into in a dress. He also opened the door for me, which was very gentlemanly and unexpected. That clued me in that maybe I had been dating the wrong men if an opened door startled me.

  “Are you planning to stay here in Friendship Harbor?” Justin asked me, clearly curious as he drove us to Bar Harbor. “That’s a big change from L.A.”

  “I was on the fence about it, honestly. I committed to being here for several weeks with the intention of it being permanent. But knowing I could bail if I really needed to.” I smoothed down the front of my grandmother’s sundress. “I’m going to stay though. One hundred percent. I needed a reset button on my life.”

  Justin glanced over at me and gave me a smile. “California’s loss is our gain.”

  That made me laugh. “That may be overstating things. I’m an out-of-work actress with zero skills in the restaurant business. As of today, I’m more liability than asset. What about you? Did you grow up here?”

  “I sure did. I left and went to UMaine for four years, then came home and went to work at the sheriff’s department. I never felt the need to live anywhere else. If I want to travel, I go on vacation.”

  “It’s good to know where you belong. I’m working on that. I grew up in California and I love the weather, and I did love being an actress but I don’t know if it’s what I was meant to do forever.” I made a face. “Clearly not, since I’ve been out of work for six months.”

  “I watched a couple episodes of your show. Why do I get the feeling you’ve taken on that role here in Friendship Harbor?”

  The sheriff was definitely on to me. “What role?”

  “Amateur sleuth.”

  I couldn’t exactly deny it. “Well, I know a murder when I see one. I knew there was no way my llama could have killed Cliff and to be totally honest, I’m not so sure June died of natural causes either.”

  Justin pulled into the parking lot of a clapboard waterfront restaurant.

  “Oh, this is beautiful,” I said. There were sailboats in the marina to the right of the building and the water was calm and endless.

  “June didn’t die of natural causes,” Justin said.

  I whipped my head around. “What? How do you know that?”

  “I can’t give you a lot of details because this is an open investigation. But I can tell you she died of a high dose of nifedipine.”

  “And what is that?” My heart was racing at the thought that there truly was a killer on the loose in this town.

  “It’s a blood pressure medication. But when given in huge amounts it can cause sudden and deadly heart attacks. But according to her doctor, June didn’t have high blood pressure and was never prescribed the medication.”

  “So someone killed her?”

  Justin shook his head. “We don’t know that. It could have been an accidental overdose. She might have taken medication meant for someone else, gotten confused. We can’t draw any conclusions until everything has been thoroughly investigated.”

  “Whose medication would she have taken?” I asked. That made no sense.

  “She’s the one who cleared out your grandmother’s personal possessions. There are people who hoard medication and who self-medicate rather than go to the doctor. This isn’t a town where people are eager to step into a physician’s office. They think all those tests are scams meant to make money. So maybe June felt like she had high blood pressure and she nicked Sunny’s pills and was taking them incorrectly.”

  “I suppose that is possible.” I had no clue if my grandmother had been taking high blood pressure pills but none of what Justin said was out of the realm of possibility. Yet I knew in my gut there was more to this than the obvious accidental overdose.

  I needed to search the internet and find out how many pills she would have had to take in order to have a heart attack.

  Justin opened his car door but he turned back, expression serious. “I promise you, though, we’ll look into this. You don’t need to, Sophie.”

  He was clearly a mind reader or I had a lousy poker face. “Uh-huh. I just think it’s an odd coincidence right after Cliff’s murder. But it seems Cliff had a lot of enemies.”

  “Cliff had a lot of money. Sometimes that’s the most obvious motive. He turned a lot of heads when he built that brand-new house a few years back.”

  Interesting. “What’s going to happen to it? It goes to Karen?”

  Justin nodded. “It was up for sale actually as of last week, right before he died. I’m not sure how all of that will shake out. I would imagine Karen will still sell it.”

  “Huh.” I was mulling over what all of this meant.

  Sighing, Justin stepped out of the car. I opened my door before he could come around and open mine. I felt guilty having him be so attentive when I had exactly zero intention of staying out of June’s death or Cliff’s murder.

  Instead, I just changed the subject and chatted about the weather, asked questions about the marina, and spent a lot of time marveling over the menu. I was nervous and it was obvious. After ordering, I excused myself and went to the restroom to wash my hands and calm my jitters. I took a few deep breaths, watching myself in the mirror.

  This was a role I could play. Woman on a dinner date.

  On my way back to my table I saw Mac dining in a cozy back corner, away from the stunning view. He was with a woman. There was no way to walk past him without being totally obvious, since there was nothing but the kitchen in the part of the restaurant they were seated, but I knew that head of hair. It was Frances Robichaud, with her tightly permed hair the color of a bottle of merlot. There was no mistaking anyone else for her.

  To my surprise she leaned forward, and though I couldn’t see her expression, she tenderly stroked Mac’s cheek.

  Co
uple alert.

  “Your chowder arrived,” Justin said as soon as I returned to the table.

  “Oh great.” I sat down and tried to focus on my food and Justin. Not easy when I wanted to keep sneaking glances at Mac and Frances.

  “Are you okay?” Justin asked, regarding me over his own spoon of clam chowder.

  “Yes,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

  So with determination and a big smile, I focused all my attention on Justin. My mystery solving could wait long enough for a great meal and friendly chat.

  “Thank you for a great evening,” Justin said, pulling his truck in front of the pub.

  “No, thank you. I think that baked stuffed lobster was life altering.”

  He laughed. “It was pretty good. But the company was better.”

  I appreciated his compliment, but I wasn’t one hundred percent feeling interested in him and I wasn’t sure if it was the move, the murder, or something else entirely.

  “It was nice to spend some time with a local,” I said. “I need friends here in Friendship Harbor.” Which I was pretty sure that’s all I wanted us to be, at least for now. Hopefully he would get the subtle hint.

  Justin smiled, and I couldn’t miss his gaze dropping to my lips.

  Okay, nope. I definitely was not ready for a kiss even though he was a great guy, smart and funny and definitely handsome in that rugged Mainer sort of way. I didn’t want to drop an “it’s not you, it’s me” on him, even though it was, so I gave him a big smile and reached for the door handle.

  “Thanks again! We should grab coffee sometime, my treat.” I meant that. I could really see myself being friends with Justin.

  His eyes lifted to mine, reading my face. I had a cheerful expression on it, or at least I hoped I did. That was the look I was going for and I was an actress, after all. I clearly succeeded, because I couldn’t miss the flash of disappointment in his eyes.

  Justin returned the smile and nodded. “That would be great, Sophie.”

  I opened the door and slid down from the seat, tugging at the skirt of my dress as I did. “Good night,” I said.