Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  However, before she could even think about writing one, she had to solve one. And this case was getting more complex by the day.

  She went to her closet and took out the black satchel with the spiral she used for taking notes in class on Monday. She got a pen and opened the notebook to a clean page. In class, Max Dekker had said to write down anything interesting that you observed or heard around you because it could end up being part of a future book.

  At the top of the page, she wrote, “Suspects.” She started from the beginning. There was Max Dekker, of course. Like Ian had said, the spouse was always a suspect. Then there was Melissa at the salon. Did she really have a motive? Just because she did not like the woman didn’t mean she wanted her dead. She put a question mark next to her name.

  Who else? Cliff and his mystery helper. She put an X next to Cliff’s name. Remembering what Russell had said about Cliff’s odd behavior and temper, she scratched out the X and changed it to a question mark.

  Another suspect was the man from Houston whose wife had been murdered by a local gang. Maybe Dan would know more about him.

  One more name kept poking at her brain. It was someone she had wondered about from the beginning but was afraid to contemplate. If he were the killer, what would be the motive? Notoriety? Redemption?

  She stared at the blue lines on the paper, and they began to blur. In small letters, she added the name to the list. Linus Guttman.

  Chapter 13

  “I took the liberty of ordering you a club sandwich and sweet tea. Hope that’s okay.” Dan blew on his coffee before taking a gulp.

  Deena noticed he had added cream and sugar to his coffee. Was Dan getting soft? “Perfect.” She squeezed a lemon slice into her glass and eyed Dan. His perpetual five o’clock shadow was gone from his face, and he had recently gotten a haircut. More gray was showing, but he looked younger than the average fifty-something. Dating was looking good on him. She didn’t dare ask him about it until he had warmed up on a more comfortable topic: murder.

  “So, did you find out who my mystery man is?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Come on, now. You know how to play this game. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. How do you know this guy?”

  “Fine.” She slowly stirred her tea just for a dramatic pause. The dumpy café on the outskirts of town gave her a nostalgic feeling. She had actually missed the sticky red and white checkered tablecloths and the crabby waitress. She proceeded slowly. “My friend, Cliff, went to the salon on Monday to deliver a wine cooler he had repaired for Alexis Dekker. She was supposed to have money to pay him, but didn’t.”

  “Do you mind if I take notes?” Dan asked, reaching into his shirt pocket.

  “Just don’t quote me. Anyway, he was tired of messing with it, so he went ahead and put it in her car. She had a small sports car with leather seats.”

  Clara, the waitress who had always served Dan and Deena when they had met there before, brought out the sandwich and refilled Dan’s cup.

  Deena pulled the toothpick out of the first half. “A man must have seen Cliff struggling to get it in the car and came over to help him. After they got it in, they both drove off.”

  “So this guy is Cliff’s alibi.”

  “Yes.” Deena bit into her sandwich. The answer was actually more complex. Should she tell Dan about the half hour that was still unaccounted for? She decided not to. After all, he was a reporter, and she didn’t want to see any more publicity about Cliff’s involvement.

  “So how do you know this helper?”

  “Russell made a sketch of the man from Cliff’s description. We showed it around the area businesses, but no one recognized him.”

  “Do you still have the picture?”

  “No, Guttman kept my last copy. But wait...there’s more.” She took a drink of tea and wiped her mouth.

  “Russell and I went to the memorial yesterday.”

  “I know. I saw you.”

  “Really? How did I not see you?”

  “We reporters know how to stay invisible sometimes. Remember?” He winked.

  “So when I was pulling out of the parking lot, I almost hit this guy who was crossing the street. Russell remembered him as the same guy in the sketch. I told Guttman and the rest is history.”

  “Ahh. So that explains the arrest.”

  “What does? Who is he?”

  It was Dan’s turn to play cat and mouse. He added a sugar packet to his coffee and stirred. “I’m only telling you this because it will be public knowledge when the story comes out on Tuesday. I trust you to keep the info under wraps until then.” He took a swig. “The man you identified, the man you almost ran over...is a guy from Houston named Joseph Ramos.”

  “Really? Isn’t he the guy whose wife was killed in a copy-cat murder?”

  Dan’s eyes widened. “You know that already?”

  She smiled the smile of someone who had just impressed the unimpressible. “You’re not the only one with investigative super-powers around here.”

  He nodded his head.

  “Guttman showed me his mug shot. What was he wanted for?”

  “Nothing, until you talked to Guttman. They had checked on his whereabouts after the murder because he had been charged with petty crimes in the past and had been stalking Max Dekker. They couldn’t find him.”

  “So do the police have him in custody now?”

  “Yes. He was staying at the Pine Tree Inn outside of town. Get this. Dekker had a restraining order against him, so when you said you saw him outside the funeral home, they nailed him on violating the order. Now they have him locked up until they can make their case against him for the murder.”

  “So I helped catch another criminal!” She sat back and smiled.

  “Looks that way. I have a feeling you and Cliff will be called down to I.D. him tomorrow.”

  “You mean in a line-up? That’s so exciting!”

  “Yeah, groovy. Just make sure Guttman doesn’t try to pull a fast one. I don’t trust that guy.”

  Those words struck a chord with Deena. “I’ve been wondering about him.” She hesitated, looking down at her plate. “I haven’t said this to anyone else, but I was thinking. You have a cop with a reputation for sloppy police work. His uncle pulls some strings and gets him hired as a detective. Then—”

  “After just a month of being here, there’s a big homicide case to solve.”

  “So you thought about it, too?”

  “Yep. Maybe this guy created his own case to solve in order to rehab his reputation.”

  Deena clenched her hands. “When you say it out loud, it sounds so much worse.”

  “I know, but let’s talk this through.” He lowered his voice. “He has a motive and opportunity. The salon was closed, so there weren’t many people around. However, he would need a patsy.”

  “Plus, he wouldn’t want to make it an open and shut case; otherwise, he wouldn’t get credit for a big score.”

  “So who does he frame? The husband is the most likely answer.”

  Deena leaned in. “But what about Cliff?”

  “Too easy. I think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Guttman is probably just using him as a smoke screen. Showing he is turning over lots of stones.”

  “Then what about Joseph Ramos? Maybe he really did do it to get revenge against Max by killing his wife.”

  “Maybe.” Dan slowly stirred his coffee. “Obviously, he was at the scene, but where’s the physical evidence to pin it on him?”

  “Or Cliff or Max?”

  “Exactly. If Guttman did perpetrate this crime, he might be surprised that all of these suspects are popping up out of the woodwork.” He guzzled the last of his coffee. “Hey sugar,” he called out to Clara. “Can I get one of these to go?” He waved his empty cup. “Do you need a to-go box?” he asked Deena.

  “No. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Don’t worry about this Guttman thing. If he is responsible, we’ll catch him. Power of th
e press and all that.” He gave her one of his signature salutes. “By the way, I already knew the first part of your story about the sketch and showing it around. But you got one thing wrong. The little red sports car Alexis was driving. It wasn’t hers. It was Max’s.”

  AS SHE DROVE HOME, her head spun with this new information. Was someone targeting Max but killed Alexis instead? Did this revelation make Max more or less suspicious in the death of his wife? And what about Guttman? Was he a dirty cop trying to clean up his reputation?

  She was glad she had talked to Dan. He was a good man, and she felt better knowing he was investigating the case. But talking to him had just confused matters even worse. Maybe Gary was right. She should leave crime solving to the professionals and learn to bake chocolate swirl divinity cake instead.

  She laughed aloud when she remembered the last thing Dan had told her. She had finally decided to ask about his love life. Indeed, Maycroft was a small town. She couldn’t believe Dan was dating Lydia Ivey. She didn’t seem like the most stable post on the porch. Her infatuation with Max Dekker was apparently short lived. At least Lydia would keep Dan living high on the hog with her delicious baked goods.

  Deena glanced in the rearview mirror and checked her speed. She had a tendency to drive too fast when she was deep in thought. She tapped her brake pedal to slow down. A white car behind her moved up closer. She held her breath, hoping it wasn’t a police car.

  It wasn’t. It was a Ford sedan.

  Chapter 14

  They had a reunion, of sorts, on Monday when Deena, Russell, and Cliff all showed up at the police station to identify the stranger. None of them had ever been involved in a line-up, and they were only familiar with it from what they had seen on TV.

  The temperature was steadily dropping as fall was introducing itself to Maycroft. The wind howled that early afternoon, and leaves fell like rain from the trees.

  Deena was glad she’d grabbed a sweater on the way out.

  Russell, seemingly oblivious to the weather, wore his basic cargo shorts and Tommy Bahama floral shirt. Cliff, who was taller and leaner than Russell, wore blue jeans, boots, and a pearl snap shirt. She wondered if he would be going by the cemetery while he was in town.

  The temperature inside the police station wasn’t much warmer. It might have been the weather, but it was more likely the chill between Russell and Cliff. When would this childish feud end? She tried to make small talk while they waited in the reception area, but both seemed terribly absorbed in the magazines that were strewn across the table.

  Mercifully, Guttman didn’t keep them waiting long. He led them back to his office and explained how the line-up would work. He would take them back one at a time and then meet with them all again at the end. The attorney for the suspect would be present also.

  Guttman took Cliff back first. Another officer waited by the door in the office. Deena pictured herself as a character in a movie about to finger the wrong man. Or worse, what if she didn’t recognize anyone?

  Russell’s leg was bobbing ninety to nothing. He was probably thinking the same thing.

  After what seemed forever, but had probably only been about five minutes, Guttman returned. His face revealed nothing. “Who wants to go next?”

  Deena looked at Russell. “You go.”

  He jumped up and followed Guttman out the door.

  She pulled out her cell phone. “Is this okay?” she asked the officer.

  “Sure. Just don’t make any calls.”

  Deena looked at her phone. No messages. She scrolled through the pictures posted on Facebook. The names were a blur. Maybe Russell was right. Maybe it was time to get glasses. The thought depressed her. She was no more vain than the next person, but the thought of getting glasses just made her feel old.

  Gary was turning sixty this week. Her birthday was just around the corner. What was next? Orthopedic shoes and dentures?

  Guttman returned. “You’re up.” He removed his jacket and hung it on the back of his desk chair. He loosened the knot on his tie. If they were playing poker, this might be what card players called a tell. But she didn’t know him well enough to read him.

  Her conversation with Dan came roaring back. Would Guttman lead her into making a false identification or was this not the man he was planning on pinning the murder on?

  She followed him to a small dark room with a one-way mirror.

  He introduced Mrs. Ortiz, an attorney from Houston. Then he read instructions and noted that the proceedings were being recorded. At last, he announced, “Bring them in,” to someone Deena couldn’t see.

  Six men walked across the back of the room and stopped in front of a wall lined with measurements for height. All were light-skinned Hispanic men about the same build. She instantly recognized the man she had almost run over with her car.

  “Do you recognize any one of the people in front you?”

  “Yes.” The sound of her own voice startled her.

  “Can you tell us the number of the person you recognize?”

  “Number five.”

  “And how do you know this person?”

  “I saw him crossing the street yesterday by the funeral home. I—I almost hit him with my car.”

  “Are you sure this was the same man?”

  Deena nodded.

  “Take them out,” Guttman called out to the wizard behind the curtain. He turned to Deena. “Follow me.”

  He led her back to his office. “I want to thank you all for coming down today. Just so you know, Mrs. Sharpe and Mr. Sinclair identified the same man. Mr. Abel was not able to make a positive identification.”

  Deena looked at Cliff. “What?”

  “A couple of the guys looked similar, but I couldn’t be sure. I wish I could.”

  Guttman patted Cliff’s back. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Abel. It happens. We’ll check out his whereabouts for that day and see what we can turn up.”

  Deena studied the detective’s face. He was saying the right things, but was he being honest? Could he have left Joseph Ramos out of Cliff’s line-up? Impossible. The defendant’s lawyer was there, and Guttman said it was being videotaped. Maybe Guttman was on the up-and-up after all.

  “Do you think one of those men is the guy who killed that woman?” Cliff asked.

  “We’re still working on the case. For now, he is being charged with violating a restraining order by being in the same vicinity as Max Dekker.”

  “Did you ask him about helping me at the salon? What did he say?”

  “We did. He denied it, of course. As of now, you are still a person of interest. I hope you understand.”

  “Whatever.” Cliff shuffled his feet. “Are we done here?”

  “Yes. You are all free to go. Thank you again for your cooperation.”

  When they stepped outside, the clouds had blocked out the last rays of sunshine.

  Even Russell was feeling the cold now. He crossed his arms. “What do you say we all go get a beer?”

  “Too cold for a beer,” Deena said, “but you two should go. Grady’s is probably open now.”

  “I got somewhere else to be,” Cliff mumbled, heading to his truck.

  “Where? The cemetery?” Deena looked around. Did she actually say that?

  Cliff shook his head and kept walking.

  The cat was out of the bag now. She might as well get it over with. She eyed Russell and then followed Cliff to his truck, opening the passenger side door. She got in and slid over, making room for Russell.

  “What the—”

  “We want to talk to you, Cliff,” Deena said as gently as possible.

  “Here? Now?”

  “Yes. It’s about last Monday.” She glanced over at Russell who had lowered his head. Obviously, he wanted her to do the talking. “We know you didn’t do anything wrong, and now Detective Guttman knows you didn’t either. However, Ian told us that something happened between the salon and the cemetery.”

  Cliff prickled.

  “We’
re worried about you. Why won’t you tell us what happened? We are your friends. You can trust us.”

  Cliff grabbed his cap from the dashboard and pulled it low down on his head. He glanced past Deena at Russell.

  “It’s—embarrassing.” He waited and so did they. “There’s this gal down at the super market. I like her. I think she likes me.”

  “This is all about a girl?” Russell slapped his knee. “I can’t believe it!”

  “See? This is why I didn’t tell you.”

  Deena gave Russell her evil stare. “Cliff, I think that’s great. We’ve been hoping you would meet someone. Right, Russell?”

  “You bet. But seriously, you’re a knot-head for keeping this a secret.”

  Deena threw back her head. She put her hand on Cliff’s arm. “I know this is awkward for you, but—”

  “Awkward? It’s downright terrifying. I haven’t had a date in forty years. Not to mention the guilt.”

  “Because of Gail?” she asked.

  He nodded and stared at his hands. There was still a pale line where his wedding ring used to be.

  “Aww, c’mon,” Russell said. “You know Gail wanted you to be happy. She said so before she died.” He leaned over in front of Deena. “Now who is it? Is it that woman with the long gray hair who looks like she performed at Woodstock?”

  A smile crossed Cliff’s lips. “Yeah. She’s really something. She makes her own jewelry and loves flowers.”

  “Way to go. She’s one hot mama.” Russell reached out for a fist bump.

  “Ugh. Enough of this guy-talk,” Deena said. “So when you left the salon, where did you go?”

  “To the market to see Rosemary. Then I went to the cemetery to talk to Gail.” His face turned an even brighter shade of pink.

  “And when you dropped me off at Deena’s to go buy groceries the other day?”

  “I was just going to see Rosemary.”