Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  “As a matter of fact, I was planning to come this afternoon. I think I finally have answers for her, answers that should let her rest in peace. Wait—bad choice of words.”

  “I know what you mean, dear.”

  Deena explained that Gary and Russell would be coming and asked her to make sure Mark would be there, too.

  Deena’s breakfast consisted of coffee with a side of more coffee. Russell was starving. She told him she wanted to talk to Trey Simms at the sheriff’s office before going to see Gran.

  Russell smeared grape jelly on an English muffin, waiting for his coffee to cool. “Are you going to tell him everything we found out?”

  “Since the murderer is one of their former deputies, I think they should know. All the evidence is circumstantial, but maybe they can at least close the case. Also, if Galt ever tries to stir up trouble again, the information will be on the record.” Deena wiped at the drops of coffee she spilled on her blouse. “This was odd,” she continued. “When I talked to Deputy Simms this morning, he said he has something he needs to tell me about Matthew’s case. I wonder if he got another tip.”

  Russell stabbed his hash browns with his fork. “Maybe Leon Galt showed up and confessed.”

  “I HOPE THIS IS THE last time I have to come here for a while,” Deena said as they got out of the car. They went to the front desk and Deputy Simms came out to escort them to his office. She introduced Russell.

  “I’m glad you called,” Simms said. “I know you found some new information, but there is something I want to tell you first.”

  “Fire away,” she said and glanced at Russell.

  “It’s about R.G. Brice. He investigated the Jane Doe case.”

  “I know,” Deena said. “You gave me his name when we first talked.”

  “I should have told you this before.” Trey squirmed a bit in his chair and began tapping his pencil on his desk. “You see, R.G. Brice was my grandfather.”

  “What?” Had she really heard him correctly?

  “He was my grandfather, Roy Glenn Brice, Sr.”

  “But your last name—”

  “I know. In late 1964, my grandfather was no longer working for the department. He died not long after that in a car accident. My grandmother remarried and her husband adopted my father, R.G., Jr. When I came along, my parents decided to keep the tradition alive.”

  Deena looked down at the engraved nameplate on his desk. “So, you are R.G. Simms, III—Trey.”

  “That’s right. I was too embarrassed to tell you before, seeing how my grandfather had done such a lousy job investigating the Jane Doe case. It was probably his fault Matthew Meade was misidentified as a female.”

  Russell’s face had turned the color of melting snow. “Are you related to Carolyn Fitzhugh?”

  “She’s my great aunt. Do you know her?”

  “We’ve met.” Deena clutched the satchel in her lap, unsure of what to do. Should she tell Trey his grandfather was a cheat and a murderer?

  Trey looked at Deena then Russell, both still as statues. “So, now that I got that off my chest, what new evidence do you have about the case?”

  “Um, uh, about your grandfather,” Deena said. “I mean, about the case. I suspected something was unusual when I first talked to you, but this explains it.”

  “You must be a pretty good investigator to have picked up on those clues. What about that lead I gave you? Did you talk to Henry Wilcox?”

  “Turned out to be nothing,” she said. “Just a disgruntled former employee looking for some attention.”

  “We get a lot of that kind around here, I’m afraid.”

  “I was able to find Donna Morrison.” Deena fidgeted with her satchel to buy time while she was thinking. She needed to tell him something. She could feel Russell’s stare as she pulled out a legal pad and flipped through the pages. “Yes, here it is. The green raincoat. The one found on Matthew. It turns out it was Donna Morrison’s.”

  “I see,” he said, and scribbled on a notepad.

  “He wasn’t wearing it but was probably using it to cover his head. Whoever shot him probably threw it on top of his body.”

  Trey nodded. “I’ll make a note of that.”

  She proceeded to tell him about her run-in with Leon Galt. The deputy became more serious and assured her he would follow up on it.

  Deena glanced at Russell and stood to leave. “Thanks for your honesty, Trey. It’s been nice working with you.”

  “Remember, if anything turns up, the Bingham County Sheriff’s Office is always here to help.”

  They left the office and got back in the car.

  “Don’t say it,” she warned Russell.

  “I can’t believe Trey’s grandfather murdered our uncle, and we are the only ones who know.”

  Deena covered her heart with her hand. “I didn’t know what to say. What would you have done if you were me?”

  Russell sighed. “Probably the same thing.”

  “Let’s get back to Aunt Lucy’s house. I have a bone to pick with Mark.”

  Chapter 33

  The summer storm’s cleansing bath had brought about a renewed spirit. Dust turned to mud then washed off the roads and trees. Even the weeds looked better. Lucy’s yellow and pink roses were full and happy after a thirst-quenching drink of water. Deena hoped she could raise the spirits of the family just as much.

  Inside the house, Mark paced back and forth like a nervous tiger. Gary sat on the sofa drinking a cup of coffee. Gran was dozing in the rocker. Uncle Richard and Aunt Lucy worked crossword puzzles at the kitchen table. When Deena and Russell walked in, everyone seemed to relax—everyone except Mark. Richard brought in kitchen chairs for extra seating.

  “Did Matthew shoot the president?” Gran asked in a groggy voice.

  Deena’s heart skipped a beat. “No, of course not! Who said anything about that?” Maybe Gran knew more than she had said.

  “I may be old and frail, but I am not deaf.” She pointed at Mark. “I heard you talking on the phone to someone about it. That’s what you think, don’t you?”

  Everyone looked at Mark.

  Russell was particularly annoyed with his cousin. “Why would you say that without having all the facts? We know you were working for Leon Galt, but this is taking it too far.”

  “Leon Galt? That man from New York?” Richard asked.

  Mark’s face reddened under the scrutiny. “Noel Future is his penname. He has evidence about Matthew’s involvement in the assassination. Ask Deena, she’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Deena leaned forward on the sofa. “Did you know Leon Galt tried to kill me last night?” She heard several gasps. “Well, not really. He had an umbrella, not a gun. But he did carjack me.”

  Russell interrupted her. “It’s a story for another time. Bottom line is, he was thrown in jail last night and showed his true colors. It was all about the money for him.”

  “Also,” Deena added, “he told Gary and me what he thought, and believe me, he had no hard proof of Matthew’s involvement. Only speculation.”

  Mark stopped pacing long enough to return her stare, but then looked down without answering. Richard stood up and pointed to a chair. “Sit down, son, and talk to us.”

  “Did Galt pay you to follow Deena?” Russell asked Mark.

  “He gave me some money.”

  Lucy gasped and shrank back against her husband, covering her mouth with both hands.

  Mark seemed unmoved. “It wasn’t nearly the amount he offered Deena and Gary. I would have gotten more if she had just gotten Gran to sign the form.”

  “Sign a form?” Gran repeated softly. “Oh dear,” she said and her face turned ashen. “That’s what Matthew’s ghost asked me to do last night. It was so real. He took my hand and tried to put a pen in it. That’s when I hollered.”

  Deena reached over and squeezed her hand. “It was no ghost, trust me. Would you care to explain, Mark? And start with the letter you left when you were at my house.”


  “Mark! What have you done? Tell us,” Richard demanded.

  “This is ridiculous,” Mark said. “I’m leaving.”

  “Oh no you’re not,” Gran said, and reached out with her cane, catching Mark’s foot. He tumbled into the middle of the room landing face first on the rug.

  “Touché!” Deena yelled, a little too loudly.

  Russell helped him up and took him back to his chair. “Why don’t you just relax and tell us all about it.”

  “Why don’t you tell them since you seem to have all the answers.” Mark rubbed his elbow and glared at Deena.

  “My guess is Galt offered you money to follow me, but you decided to add some extra services on your own. You went in to Gran’s room one night when she was asleep and got a piece of stationery out of her night table. That was your first ghostly visit.” Deena pulled the note out of her bag. “Does this look familiar?”

  Mark shrugged and looked away.

  “It’s a note supposedly from Matthew admitting his involvement in the assassination. It’s fake, of course.”

  “How do you know Galt didn’t tell me to write it?” Mark asked defensively.

  “Because it was an amateur move. He wasn’t trying to lie. He just wanted to get his book published. But you, on the other hand, had no problem with it. That’s why you showed up at my house, to put this letter with the other documents I was going through. I’m guessing that you saw the thank-you note from Gran on my desk and got spooked, knowing it was the same stationery.”

  “Son, is this true?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes. But I was only trying to speed up the process. I thought what Galt said was true—at least it sounded true.”

  Gran wagged her finger at her grandson. “How could you think your own uncle would have done something like that?”

  He didn’t answer, looking down at his feet. “I should have gotten different stationery, but I wanted it to look old.”

  “Good try,” Deena said. “But it wasn’t old enough. Remember, I know about vintage stuff. Something like that would have yellowed a great deal more. Maybe even have had paper mites. But that’s not what gave it away.” She read the opening of the letter aloud. “Dear Mom and Dad.”

  “That’s not Matthew,” Gran said. “He always called us Mama and Papa.”

  “I know. I read that in his letters to you.” She looked at her grandmother. “He was a good son.”

  Gran’s smile revealed the first sign of relief since Matthew’s body was identified back in June. Deena turned to Mark. “So, you were the ghost that kept showing up at night. Shame on you for scaring an old woman like that.”

  Mark hung his head and mumbled something that might have been an apology.

  “Richard, I want to change my will. I’m afraid your son won’t be getting any of my money. It will all be going to Deena and Russell.” She frowned at Mark. “It’s not a fortune, but I bet it’s more than you would have gotten from that New York shyster.”

  It was Mark’s turn to pale and pall. He stood up again.

  “Sit down,” his mother ordered. “I want you to hear everything.”

  Deena sat staring into the distance, trying to come up with the right words. All eyes were on her now.

  “Deena,” Gary said gently.

  She took a deep breath and turned toward Gran. “There was a woman who worked with Matthew. She had a very jealous boyfriend. The boyfriend was married, and he thought she was seeing Matthew behind his back. It wasn’t true though. He was also afraid Matthew might tell someone that he was cheating on his wife.” She covered Gran’s hand with hers.

  “It wasn’t Katherine, was it?” Gran asked.

  “No, this was after he called off his engagement to her,” Deena said. “This man saw them together at the diner that night and probably followed Matthew and got him to pull over somehow, maybe pretending to have car trouble, flashing his lights...something. It was pouring rain, so Matthew took off his glasses and left his belongings in the car. He grabbed the raincoat the woman had left behind at the diner to cover his head and was probably forced into the man’s car. The man drove him out to that remote field.” She paused. “He covered his body with the raincoat.”

  “Do you know who that man is?” Richard asked.

  “We have an idea, but he’s been dead for years. From what we heard, he probably found out he had killed an innocent man and began drinking heavily. He died in a car wreck.” Deena looked at Russell who nodded his head.

  “So, he wasn’t wearing the raincoat like the sheriff’s office said?” Gran asked.

  “No. It was probably just lying on his body.”

  Everyone sat quietly trying to make sense of the senseless act. Deena pulled the little address book out of her bag and handed it to Gran.

  She clutched it to her chest. “So, my son didn’t do anything wrong? He wasn’t a criminal?”

  “No. In fact, he was very well liked and respected.” Deena took Gran’s frail hand in hers. “It’s still a tragedy, of course, but at least you have answers now.”

  “Bless you for all you have done. Richard, I want you to drive me to the cemetery tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to rest.” She turned back to Deena. “I want to give you something.”

  Helping her grandmother up, they walked into the bedroom together.

  Gran sat in the old rocker. “Open the chest for me, please.”

  Deena was surprised she was getting a rare look into the secret stash. She lifted the heavy lid and looked away, trying not to be too nosy.

  “There’s a box in the bottom left corner. See if you can find it.”

  Deena reached under the folded uniform and retrieved a cardboard box. “Is this it?”

  “Yes. Open it.”

  She removed the lid and found a beautiful old camera inside. She looked up at Gran.

  “Frank brought that camera back from Europe and gave it to Matthew. It was his most prized possession. We found it in the closet of his apartment after he disappeared. Now I want you to have it.”

  Deena was overcome with emotion. “I know this is a family treasure, and I will be sure to take care of it.” She turned it over in her hands.

  “I know you will, dear.”

  She recognized the Leica camera with a Zeiss lens as expensive and rare. Never having held one before, she admired it like a jeweler examining a fine diamond. She opened the film compartment and saw that it was empty except for a small scrap of paper. She read it and caught her breath. Then she slipped it in her pocket, hoping Gran didn’t notice. After putting the camera back in the box, she closed the chest lid and stood up. “Do you want me to help you into the other room?”

  Gran smiled sweetly. “No. I think I am just going to sit here and rest.”

  Deena hugged Gran and then walked back to join the others. Mark was still slunk down in the chair with his arms folded. She actually felt a little sorry for him.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mark,” she said. “The important thing is that we now know the truth, and we can put this mystery to rest.”

  Chapter 34

  Deena, Gary, and Russell agreed Las Abuela’s would be the perfect place to celebrate, so the trio headed back to Maycroft. It was early, so they got a table in the bar and ordered margaritas, snacking on chips and salsa.

  “Here’s to a job well done.” Gary raised his glass.

  “Poor choice of words since I still don’t actually have a job.” Deena sipped her drink. “I can’t really write a story and leave out all the juicy details. I guess this one will have to stay among us.”

  “Well, Labor Day is right around the corner—”

  “Don’t even say it,” she warned her husband. “I’m done writing those articles.”

  He laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Russell glanced at the television over the bar as the announcers recapped the previous night’s baseball games. “I’m glad they didn’t ask for every little detail,” he said. “That could have gotten tricky
.”

  Deena nodded. “Sometimes less is more, I guess. Gran just seemed relieved to know Matthew wasn’t murdered because of something bad he had done. I guess that was good enough for her.”

  “From the beginning, you said you wanted to help her get closure,” Gary said. “You did that.”

  Deena looked at Russell. “I’m more worried about you, big brother. I don’t want you to end up alone and cynical like Mark.”

  “That won’t happen,” he said with a grin. “I have Cliff and Maggie.”

  “Hey, I just thought of someone who is about your age and single.” She winked at Gary. “Estelle Fitzhugh.”

  He turned to look at his sister. “Sounds as if Mark would like her. She’s loaded.”

  Deena looked over to see Lloyd Pryor walk up to the bar and speak to the bartender. He turned around and saw her. “What are we celebrating?”

  “Just the end of a very long summer,” she said and introduced him to Gary and Russell.

  “Rhonda told me you were investigating your uncle’s death. What happened with that?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said, “and not one I can write for the newspaper.”

  “Well, I’m glad I ran into you. I was thinking about calling you in a few weeks. I need someone to cover the political beat, especially with local elections coming up. The sheriff’s race in Bingham County is going to be a hot one.”

  Deena choked on a tortilla chip and reached for a glass of water.

  “Really?” she managed to say.

  “These kids on my staff think voter fraud has something to do with American Idol. One of the guys actually called Rick Parker the President of Texas.” The bartender returned with Pryor’s lunch order. “I need someone with some sense. Think about it and come by to see me next week.”

  Watching him leave the restaurant, Russell looked at Deena. “Did that really happen? Did you just get a job at the newspaper?”

  “I think I did!” She smiled and shook her head in amazement.