Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set

by Lisa B. Thomas

  When she entered the back of the courtroom, Ian and the prosecutor were talking to the judge. The jury had been dismissed.

  She sat down and pulled out her notepad. She made four columns, labeling them suspect, motive, means, and opportunity. On the first line, she wrote Wendy’s name. Obviously, her motive would be to stop the blackmailing. But did she have the opportunity to kill Ray? Yes. Unfortunately, it was going to be hard to pin down her alibi for that time.

  Next, she wrote Darlene. Motive? Everyone knew she disliked Ray intensely, but if we killed everyone we disliked, there would be few of us still above ground. Deena left that section blank. Under means, she wrote “allergy pen.” It seemed cliché, but if Ray were poisoned, Darlene could have used the syringe to inject the poison.

  That brought her to Helen Abbott. Why had she lied about working on Saturday night? If she wasn’t at the hospital, then where was she? As a nurse, she’d have access to all kinds of medical supplies. But, what about motive? Why would she want Ray dead?

  Deena moved on to the next line. Who else in town had a grudge against Ray? Had he been blackmailing anyone else? Why did he have a file on Reverend Abbott? What were those numbers on that piece of paper she saw in Ray’s desk drawer?

  She should go back and talk to Darlene again. Hopefully, she could shed some light on people Ray knew or had dealings with.

  “What are you doing here?” Ian asked.

  Deena jumped. “Oh, you scared me. Have you turned on your phone?”

  “No, why?” He reached in his pocket.

  “Sandra is fine,” Deena began, “but she called me earlier, and I took her to the emergency room.”

  Alarm hit Ian’s face like a blast of cold air. “What? Why?”

  “She was having some pain in her stomach and wasn’t sure if she was having contractions. They checked her out and determined it was indigestion or something.”

  “Or something? Where is she now?”

  “I took her home to get some rest. Like I said, she’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

  Ian hurried back to the table to get his notes and briefcase. He called Sandra.

  Deena waited to see if he needed her. She wanted to tell him her plan to talk to Darlene. After a few minutes, she saw his shoulders relax, and he even chuckled at something Sandra had said.

  When he hung up the phone, he grabbed his belongings and walked toward Deena. “Thank you for being there for Sandra. I can’t tell you—”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” Deena patted his back, and they walked out of the courtroom side by side. “By the way, I have a couple of leads in the case. I wanted your opinion on what I should do.”

  “I trust you. Follow your gut.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to run home and check on Sandra before I go back to the office. Do what you think is best, and I’ll talk to you later.”

  Deena watched him hurry out to the parking lot. Ian was a good man and a good husband. You could always count on him to do the right thing.

  But the cynic in her crept back into her brain like a lion stalking its prey. Everyone in this case was a good person. Everyone, that is, except the victim. If Ray was indeed murdered, it was probably by someone he knew.

  Someone Deena knew.

  Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time she discovered she had been consorting with a killer.

  Chapter 15

  Darlene looked up from her computer as Deena approached. “Twice in one week. Why, you been to church more times this week than half the members come in a whole year.”

  Deena sat in a chair on the opposite side of the desk. “I have some questions about Ray Brewster. I need to know what you know about him and who he associated with.”

  Darlene sat back and crossed her arms. The smile fell from her face. “As I told you before, I’ve already told the police everything I know.”

  “Did you tell them about the allergy pens? The ones in your drawer?”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” She sat up quickly as though her chair were an ejection seat.

  “I’m sure you read in the paper that there’s a chance Ray was murdered. Possibly poisoned. Everyone knows how you felt about him, and yesterday I saw the pack of syringes with one missing.”

  “Are you saying that you think I killed Ray Brewster?” The color drained from Darlene’s face. “Why, I wouldn’t kill a soul, much less give up my key to the pearly gates for the likes of a no-good sinner like that. How could you think such a thing?”

  It was Deena’s turn to lean back. “I’m not saying I believe that, but I don’t know what the police are thinking. Detective Guttman is anxious to pin Ray’s death on somebody, whether they are guilty or not.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous. You can tell Detective Guttman he can just—”

  “What’s all this yelling about?” Reverend Abbott came storming around the corner from his office. “You two are making enough racket to raise the dead.”

  “I hope that’s true,” Darlene said. “Then Ray Brewster can come back and tell that Yankee city slicker detective that I never laid a hand on him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Reverend Abbott asked. “What’s this about Ray Brewster?”

  Before Deena could answer, Darlene jerked open her desk drawer and picked up the package of needles. “The police think somebody poisoned that no-good leech of a man, and that I used one of these to do it.”

  From her experience, Deena had never witnessed a guilty party showing off the murder weapon with such ease. Darlene’s response to the implied accusation seemed perfectly reasonable. She seemed more angry than worried. Deena had a hunch she was innocent.

  “You two come into my office so we can discuss this,” Reverend Abbott insisted.

  She’d done it now. She’d crossed the line from investigator to instigator. Did she really have enough information to accuse Darlene of murder? Of course not. But Darlene wasn’t the only one with access to those needles. And she certainly wasn’t the only one with a motive to kill.

  Reverend Abbott closed the door to his office and motioned for the women to sit down. “Now, what’s this all about?”

  Deena had never seen him look so stern. The kindly pastor was gone, and in his place was someone else. Someone Deena barely recognized.

  “Perhaps you should have a seat, too,” she said, trying to keep her composure.

  Reverend Abbott looked back and forth between the two women and trudged over to the chair behind his desk.

  “As you may know, the police are taking a closer look at Ray’s death. They think he may have been poisoned.” She watched his face carefully for signs of guilt, but the reverend never flinched. “You know what they say about murder. Most of the time it is committed by someone close to the victim. Who else was closer to Ray than Darlene. Or for that matter, you.”

  “Me? Why would I want to kill Ray? I’m the only one in this town who cared about him. I gave him a job. I fed him. I kept him off the streets.” His face turned a dark shade of pink. “I’m the last person the police should be suspecting.”

  Darlene nodded in agreement. “What about all those people he’s cheated and done wrong in this town? They’re the ones the police should be talking to.”

  Deena couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Methinks you dost protest too much. Instead of questioning whether or not Ray was murdered, these two were talking about finding different suspects. This was not the response she had expected. Could Darlene and Reverend Abbott be in cahoots?

  She needed to know more. She looked at Reverend Abbott. “On the night of the murder, where was your wife?”

  “This is absurd,” he blasted back. “How dare you bring my wife into this. You’re not the police. If you weren’t a member of this church, I’d throw you out of here.”

  Clearly, Deena needed to take a new tack. “Look, I’m not here to accuse you or anyone. In fact, I’m trying to help you. I’ve worked with the police, and I know how they thi
nk. These are the kinds of questions they are going to be asking you, and I want you to be prepared.”

  Reverend Abbott shot a glance at Darlene. “You have a strange way of helping, Mrs. Sharpe. But, go on.” His shoulders relaxed and his face began to soften.

  “Your wife, was she at the carnival on Saturday night?”

  “Yes. She comes to all the big church events.”

  Darlene squirmed in her seat. “Actually, that’s not true. She got called in to work at the hospital.”

  Reverend Abbott cocked his head. “Are you sure? I could have sworn she said she was at the carnival. I don’t remember seeing her, but with all the commotion—”

  Darlene was clearly uncomfortable. Obviously, she knew more than she was letting on. Maybe she was not wanting to talk in front of Reverend Abbott. Deena knew she was on to something, but it was time to back off.

  “Look, I know this has been upsetting. There’s a chance Detective Guttman will be back with questions. If you think of anything else, let me know.”

  Deena could only imagine the conversation taking place behind the door as she left the minister’s office. Perhaps it was time to turn her suspicions over to Detective Guttman. If nothing else, he might realize there were other leads to chase besides Wendy Fairmont.

  Did she really suspect Reverend Abbott, his wife, or Darlene of killing Ray Brewster? No, but then she’d been wrong before. Only time would tell. But time was not on her side. With less than a week before the election, Mayor Thornhill would be determined to see an arrest made.

  The list of suspects was growing faster than a wildfire. The more doubt she could cast, the less likely the police would focus all their effort on Wendy. That was her best hope to ensure justice.

  And ensuring justice was why she took this job in the first place.

  Chapter 16

  It was all she could do not to turn her car toward the antique mall, but Deena knew she had better get home and check on Sylvia or there would be heck to pay later on. It had been more than a week since she’d added new items to her booth.

  Deena loved the arrangement at the mall. She and other vendors rented spaces to display their various treasures. Janet and her husband took care of all the sales. For that, they collected monthly rent and a small commission off each sale. Pretty good gig for the sellers as well as the mall owner.

  But Deena was more concerned about her peach of a mother-in-law than she was about her Roseville pottery—at least for now. Lord knows what trouble Sylvia had gotten herself into today.

  When Deena walked in the side door, Sylvia was on her like a moth on a flame.

  “I need you to make me a hair appointment at that beauty shop of yours,” she hollered from the kitchen. “The sooner the better.”

  “Well hello to you, too,” Deena said. “I didn’t realize you were going to a ball.”

  “Oh, hush now, you and your silliness. There’s nothing wrong with a lady wanting to look nice. Besides, looks like those gray roots of yours could use a little tending to.” She stirred a pot of her famous spaghetti sauce. “It’s the least you could do for Gary after gallivanting around town all day.”

  Deena grabbed a handful of grapes from the refrigerator. She popped one into her mouth without even rinsing it off. It seemed like the more her mother-in-law expected her to be refined, the more crudely she found herself behaving. “I’ll have you know I was interrogating suspects in Ray Brewster’s murder. It’s not like I was having a spa day. By the way, how’s your foot? All better?”

  “Hurts like the dickens, but you’ll never hear me complain.”

  Deena started to reply when her cell phone rang. Saved by the bell. She looked at the screen and saw it was Ian. “What’s up boss?” she asked intentionally loud enough for Sylvia to hear. “Any break in the case?”

  Sylvia was a mystery lover, and Deena knew she was envious of Deena’s part-time sleuthing job.

  “What? You’re kidding! When?”

  Sylvia couldn’t resist butting in. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “Okay. I’ll be right there,” Deena said.

  “My heavens. Where are you off to now? It’s almost suppertime.” Sylvia dropped the spoon onto the kitchen floor.

  To Deena, the spilled spaghetti sauce looked like blood spatter. Maybe she’d been reading too many mystery novels herself. “I have to meet Ian down at the courthouse. They’ve made an arrest in the Ray Brewster case. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “An arrest? Who?”

  “Wendy Fairmont.”

  WHEN DEENA ARRIVED at the police station, Ian was already in the holding room talking to Wendy. An officer led her back to a small room Deena had been in before with other clients. Unlike the rooms on television, this one was brightly lit and painted a cheery bright blue.

  “Good, you’re here,” Ian said when she entered the room and sat down.

  Wendy sat in a chair and was huddled up in a ball. The handcuffs on her wrists looked so out of place.

  Deena pulled her chair up close. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

  Wendy wiped the tears dripping from her cheeks as she shook her head. “This is a nightmare. I can’t figure out how I got here. I’m the victim, but it seems everyone is against me.”

  “We are definitely here for you,” Deena said, resting her hand on Wendy’s arm. “We’ll get you out of here as quick as possible.” Her mothering instincts immediately kicked in.

  “Like I was saying,” Ian continued, “there will be a hearing and the judge will set bond. I’m going to try to convince him to keep it reasonable since the medical examiner hasn’t even released his report about the cause of death. Will you be able to get the money together?”

  “I have a little savings, but that won’t go very far. My grandparents left me some money that’s tied up in a CD. My own parents, as you know, don’t have a pot to pee in.”

  “What about your fiancé?” Deena asked. “I’m sure he would be willing to help you out.”

  The dam broke and the tears flowed like a waterfall. Wendy hugged her knees and dropped her head as she cried.

  “Oh dear. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Deena said, patting Wendy on the back. She looked up at Ian for help.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to involve him. I know a good bondsman if we need him.”

  Wendy sat up and took in some deep breaths. “It’s not just the money, it’s what David is going to think. What his family is going to think.”

  Deena passed her the box of tissues. “I know for a fact they just want to help you. I bet they’ll be more supportive than you think.”

  “You know for a fact? How could you possibly know?” Wendy asked between sniffles.

  “Er...um...because I spoke to someone. An associate of your future father-in-law.”

  Wendy’s eyes began to blaze. “What?”

  “A man came to me the other day. He said David’s father asked him to see if there was a way to help you out of this...this predicament.”

  Wendy gasped and covered her mouth. “That means he knows! David already knows!”

  “Not necessarily,” Ian said. “But I saw Dan Carson outside, so it will likely be in the newspaper tomorrow. There’s really nothing we can do about that. For now, let’s just focus on getting through this hearing and getting you back home. The rest we can deal with later.”

  “There won’t be any ‘later’ for me. I can kiss my wedding and my fiancé goodbye.”

  Deena couldn’t find the right words to console Wendy. She felt helpless. The truth was that Wendy was probably right. A rich family like the O’Malleys wouldn’t want to have anything to do with a suspected murderer. It would be bad for business.

  As Ian discussed the bail hearing, a thought kept niggling at Deena. She dare not say it out loud. But if the man cares more about business than you, maybe you don’t want to marry him anyway.

  TO SAY THAT WENDY’S hearing that late afternoon was contentious would be an und
erstatement. The state’s case was flimsy at best. Purely circumstantial. The DA kept harping on the suggestive photos and pointing to Wendy as if she were Bonnie Parker.

  Ian reminded the judge that the medical examiner’s report hadn’t even come back yet and that for all they knew, Ray Brewster died of natural causes. That is, if whiskey and hard living could be considered “natural.”

  Detective Guttman sat in the back of the courtroom clipping his fingernails. Deena couldn’t tell if he was nervous or confident. She tried to make eye contact, but he kept his head low and his attention on his task at hand, so to speak.

  The judge finally had enough of the bickering and set Wendy’s bond as low as possible considering she was being charged with a felony. It probably helped that she was a hometown girl and not considered a flight risk. Her semi-celebrity status as a beauty queen probably didn’t hurt either.

  Ian stuck around to take care of the paperwork and told Deena to go home and start thinking about witnesses to interview. They needed to establish a better alibi for Wendy on the afternoon of Ray’s death. They set up a meeting with Wendy at the office for the next afternoon.

  Deena had her own ideas of where to start. She followed Detective Guttman out of the courthouse and waited until he was getting into his car. She stepped in front of the parking lot exit just as he drove up.

  He rolled down his window and stuck out his head. “What are you doing?”

  She walked around to the side of his car and pulled on the handle. She should’ve known the door would be locked. “Open up,” she said. “We need to talk.”

  Expecting him to drive off, she was relieved to hear the click of the door lock opening. She got in and put on her seatbelt. “Wouldn’t want to get a ticket.”

  Guttman apparently didn’t see the humor. He sped off in the direction of the police station. “So, what are we talking about today? Leprechauns and magic beans?”

  “More like magic needles,” she said. “You and I both know that the evidence against Wendy is bogus. She is no more a killer than you or I. Strike that. No more than I am. For all I know, you killed Ray Brewster yourself.”