“He transferred to Williamston shortly after Julian’s death,” Dexter said, meeting Adam’s gaze for a moment before reading on, “and then it looks like it took a year before a similar pattern formed. Not as many arrests as before, but still way above average and all pretty young. He was commended often and seems to have exemplarily service. Now he’s running for sheriff.”
“And I think Paul was tipped off to a story somehow. I don’t know how,” Margot said, “it’s always hard to tell how investigative journalists get their scoops, but he put his nose in where Elliot didn’t think it belonged.”
“So you think that Elliot found out Paul was investigating his arrest history and discovered Julian’s murder, and then what? Hired a hitman to end the investigation?”
“It sounds extreme,” Margot agreed, “but it sounds like Elliot is the type of man who doesn’t let people get in his way, no matter how imposing they may be.”
“Oh!” Dexter’s fingers began flying across the keyboard and Margot looked to Adam and then back to her computer-savvy baking assistant.
“What is it?”
“You said imposing and it made me think of something.”
“What?” Adam asked.
“Hold on.” More tapping punctuated Dexter’s words, then he said, “Yes!”
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Dex,” Adam urged.
“According to Eli’s records at the time he worked for the NBPD, I can align that with his stature in the video. It won’t be hard and fast evidence, but it could be evidence if we find more on this guy.” Dexter tapped a few more keys, then pointed. “See?”
Margot came around to look at the screen. While the man’s face remained hidden from the camera, Dexter had run a program that aligned the specifications of Eli’s height and weight and compared it to the video.
“It’s a match.”
“That’s good work,” Adam said, “but we need more.”
Margot bit her lip, then stood up straight. “Oh.”
“What?” Adam and Dexter asked together.
“What if the hitman—Tim Kyle—was killed in the station? By Elliot?”
“That’s a huge risk,” Adam said, shaking his head. “How would he think he could get away with that?”
“I’m not sure, but this man seems pretty arrogant as it is. You’ve seen the news reports on him and how assured he is he’s going to win. What if we called his bluff?”
“In what way?”
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“Let’s hear it,” Adam said. “I’m feeling daring.”
Margot and Adam waited in the viewing room for an unused interrogation room alongside Chief Hartland. They’d been there countless hours and it was nearing after ten at night, but things were about to get exciting, making up for the hours of boredom.
“I sure hope you two are right about this,” the chief said. “I’d hate to look like an idiot in front of the new Williamston Sheriff.”
Margot was certain, but she didn’t think now was the time to say anything. Her instincts proved true as a door burst open and a young man tripped into the room. His hands were cuffed behind his back and an officer helped right him, indicating he sit in the metal chair. The officer left and closed the door behind him.
A few minutes later, Margot, Adam, and the chief froze as angry footsteps echoed down the hall.
“You’re sure it’s empty?”
“Yes, sir. Just like you asked.”
Margot’s blood chilled.
Without even glancing into the darkened viewing room, Elliot Cary strutted past and barged into the interrogation room. “Can you get me some water, Officer Bandson? And maybe give us a few minutes? This young man is clearly upset.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
Elliot closed the door and circled around the table to look at the youth.
“I knew it was you,” the kid said, playing the part perfectly.
“To what are you referring, son?”
“My dad said you were the guy, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Elliot’s eyes narrowed.
“Nah,” the kid said. “He got sent away, over six years ago now. He’s still in jail ‘cause of what you did. You put him there!” The young man, actually older than what he appeared, was doing a wonderful job. “He saw you running for office and finally admitted it all to me. I had to see if it was true.”
“What exactly did your father say about me?” Elliot said, standing and pacing. He looked at the two-way mirror but barely gave it a glance, thinking they were alone. And why wouldn’t they be? It was after ten o’clock at night and they’d made sure to get word to Elliot in a way that would give him every opportunity to take their bait.
Part of Margot had hoped she was wrong, but it was quickly becoming clear that she wasn’t.
“He said you double-crossed him.” Margot held her breath. This was the part of it all that they had guessed on. “Said one minute you were selling him drugs and the next, you were putting him in jail.”
“He said that, did he?”
Margot’s stomach was a live thing, writhing with anticipation and worry. Would Elliot simply laugh it off? They didn’t have solid evidence without some type of capitulation from him.
“It’s a shame your father felt the need to tell you all of this.” A deadly calm entered Elliot’s voice. “You see, there has been some officer in this precinct that has taken it upon themselves to enact justice. I tried to stop them,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his trousers, “but they’ve sadly been misunderstood. They saw you as a threat to me, of all people.” His smile turned deadly and Margot gasped.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” the young man said.
Elliot walked to the doorway and looked out into the hall, no doubt to make sure they were still alone. “About this.” He pulled out a syringe.
“What’s in that?” The boy sounded scared, but Margot could see his hands were already free of the cuffs and he was ready to defend himself if necessary.
“I’m going to ensure that you never get the chance to tell this fairy tale to anyone else.”
“It’s not a f-fairy tale,” the boy said. “It’s true and you know it.”
Margot held her breath, sure Adam and the chief were as well. Would he give in to the undercover man’s prompt?
“I do, but no one else ever will.”
“Why my daddy?”
Elliot laughed and took a step closer. “Boy, I don’t remember your father. I just remember a bunch of desperate people willing to buy cheap drugs and then building my career on their stupidity. It was too easy.”
That was what they needed! Adam used his radio to signal the other officers hiding in rooms along the hallway and suddenly, an influx of people burst into the room. The young man stood as well, pulling a concealed gun from a waistband holster, and Elliot was cornered.
Chief Hartland left the room to enter the fray, but Margot stayed behind, her arms wrapping around her. This man had killed her husband. It was hard to believe. He sounded so cavalier, yet he’d taken the life of a fellow officer to further his own career.
Mouth dry and heart heavy, she slumped down in a chair and waited for Adam.
13
Margot looked down at the paper in her hands, the tears in her eyes unavoidable.
“Here’s some coffee. I thought—” Adam saw her expression and stopped partway to the table in the front room of the The Parisian Pâtisserie.
“It’s okay,” she said, sniffing and wiping them away, then folding up the newspaper. “It was very well done.”
Adam sat, pushing over a mug of coffee toward her, and rested his hands on the folded paper. “Vera did a good job, even though it was out of her normal area of expertise.”
“A good writer is a good writer,” Margot said with a shrug that made her think of her husband’s French relatives.
“No, she added a weight to it that I think it needed.”
Margot looked out the window to the quiet streets of North Bank. It was still early. Adam had insisted on coming in for a coffee before heading to the precinct that morning, seeing as it was Margot’s first day back to the shop in a week, and also the day that the article detailing Elliot Cray’s misdeeds went to print.
She had received a copy the night before, delivered to her personally by Vera. What had been most surprising was when the woman had accepted Margot’s invitation to come inside and they had talked late into the night about Paul and Julian.
The exposé detailed events from six years ago, and how Paul had come across the information while researching a new story. Vera had uncovered a few of Paul’s secret sources and exploited their information—while maintaining their anonymity—and that addition had created the bulk of the article. She told of Paul’s relentless search for the truth and how he had gone after a big story regardless of the personal ramifications.
She’d also painted Julian in a heroic light, explaining how he had put the truth before his own safety, waiting to find hard evidence rather than smear a young officer’s good name, and how it had cost him his life in the end.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” Margot said, her sigh coming from deep inside. “I’d let it slip to the background, but it had never fully gone away.”
“I know,” Adam said. “I’m sorry that it took this long to find justice for Julian. He deserved…more.”
At Adam’s tone, she looked up, making sure he was looking at her when she spoke. “No one could have known. By all accounts, it was just a random shooting. They thought Julian was in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it weren’t for my curiosity, maybe I would have let that be too.” Like everyone else. It was implied, and she knew that Adam would hear those words even though she hadn’t spoken them, but she had to learn to let that go.
“But you didn’t,” he said, a soft smile tugging the corners of his lips up.
“I didn’t.” She let out a sigh.
“And you want to know something, Margie?”
“What?” she said, giving in to his soft words.
“I love you all the more for that. For your curiosity and your desire for the truth. You astound me with your tenacity and your intuition. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
She felt heat flush her cheeks at his praise and looked down until his hand covered hers.
“I mean that,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her softly. “I know there will probably be times in the future where I may regret saying this…” He made an exaggerated grimace. “But I hope you are always curious.”
Margot smiled, tears pooling in her eyes again, but for a very different reason. How was it possible she had been so lucky as to fall in love twice in a lifetime? And to two amazing men. She’d finally put the memory of one to rest, though he would always hold a place in her heart, but now she was able to fully commit to the new life she would make with Adam.
“I love you, Adam Eastwood.”
“And I you, Margot Durand.”
“I do have some good news, though.”
Adam’s expression brightened. “Oh?”
“We got the venue.”
“Mister Peters relented, eh?” There was something in the way he said it that made Margot suspicious.
“What did you do?”
“Who, me?” Adam feigned surprise.
“You talked to him, didn’t you?”
Now it was Adam’s turn to offer a shrug in response. “I may have. But you’ll never know.”
Margot’s heart thudded in excitement. So many emotions so early in the day, but she mainly felt excited about her future with the handsome man sitting across from her.
“Hey, Adam,” she said with a grin. “Remember what you just said about my curiosity?”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m going to remind you of those words for the rest of our lives.” Then she leaned forward and silenced Adam’s laughter with a kiss.
Thanks for reading A Killer Cover Up. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
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At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books by friends and fellow authors at Fairfield Publishing. Both of them are USA Today Bestselling Authors. First is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of A Pie to Die For by Stacey Alabaster - it’s part of the popular Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.
Get Up in Smoke here: amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX
Get A Pie to Die For here: amazon.com/dp/B01D6ZVT78
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FAIRFIELD COZY MYSTERY NEWSLETTER
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After you sign up to get your Free Starter Library, turn the page and check out the free previews :)
Preview: Up in Smoke
I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.
“Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”
“I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”
When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.
“I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.
“Well, your grandmother didn’t give me much time to make it. I only had about ten minutes.” She glanced at the sign proudly before closing the trunk. She looked me in the eyes. “Let’s get on the road. We can chit chat in the car.”
With that, she climbed in and clicked on her seat belt. As I got in, she was applying a thick coat of bright red lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. “Gotta look sharp in case we get pulled over.” She winked again, her heavily wrinkled eyelid looking like it thought about staying closed before it sprung back up again.
I thought about her words for a moment. She must get pulled over a lot, I thought. Poor old lady. I could picture her going ten miles an hour while the rest of Miami flew by her.
“Better buckle up.” She pinched her lips together before blotting them slightly on a tissue. She smiled at me and for a moment, I was jealous of her pouty lips, every line filled in by layers and layers of red.
I did as I was told and buckled my seat belt before I sunk down into her caramel leather seats. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the trip. I closed my eyes and tried to forget my troubles, taking in a d
eep breath and letting it out slowly to give all my worry and fear ample time to escape my body. For the first time since I had made the decision to come here, I felt at peace. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.
The sound of squealing tires filled the air and my eyes flung open to see this old lady zigzagging through the parking garage. She took the turns without hitting the brakes, hugging each curve like a racecar driver. When we exited the garage and turned onto the street, she broke out in laughter. “That’s my favorite part!”
I tugged my seat belt to make sure it was on tight. This was not going to be the relaxing drive I had thought it would be.
We hit the highway and I felt like I was in an arcade game. She wove in and out of traffic at a speed I was sure matched her old age.
“Ya know, the older I get the worse other people drive.” She took one hand off the wheel and started to rummage through her purse, which sat between us.
“Um, can I help you with something?” My nerves were starting to get the best of me as her eyes were focused more on her purse than the road.
“Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.” She dug a little more, pulling out a package of AA batteries and then a ham sandwich.
Brake lights lit up in front of us and I screamed, bracing myself for impact. The old woman glanced up and pulled the car to the left in a quick jerk before returning to her purse. Horns blared from behind us.
“There it is!” She pulled out a package of wintergreen Life Savers. “Do you want one?”
“No, thank you.” I could barely get the words out.
“I learned a long time ago that it was easier if I just drove and did my thing instead of worrying about what all the other drivers were doing. It’s easier for them to get out of my way instead of me getting out of theirs. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” She popped a mint in her mouth and smiled. “I love wintergreen. I don’t know why peppermint is more popular. Peppermint is so stuffy; wintergreen is fun.”
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