Beach Town Trouble (A Port Grace Cozy Mystery Book 2) (5 page)

“You mean Cupcake,” said Georgia, clenching her jaw.

“Yes, dear, and sadly, it’s local animal control policy to put down any animal that causes a person’s death, intended or not. I’ve grown sort of fond of him myself, but it’s out of my hands. I’m turning him over tomorrow.”

“Please, Crimbleton, wait a few more days. I’m closing in on what really happened. I think I may know who really did it. Just give me time to find the proof.”

“You have two days.”

“
P
lease
, Chief, just listen to me,” said Georgia, gritting her teeth and breathing slowly so that she wouldn’t yell. “I don’t know what the big deal is. This is standard police procedure.”

“I’m sick of you telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, Miss Mason. This is my station. I’m the one with the badge.”

“I don’t see why the person with the badge thinks it’s such a big deal to look at financial records. Please, it’s just for Tim Jr. and Camila. Two people, and just for the past few months. What I want to know is why you haven’t done it already?”

“It requires warrants, Miss Mason. Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. It requires getting a judge involved. It requires providing sufficient evidence to warrant such an investigation. It’s a whole lot of work, and I don’t see why it’s necessary. I’ve interviewed both of them. Why do I need to look at their finances?”

“It’s a lot of work?” said Georgia, her anger compelling her to pace the room. “That’s why you’re fighting me? Are kidding me? It’s your job! That should be reason enough!”

“Quit yelling at me, Miss Mason, or I will have you removed,” said Crimbleton, her round face tight and flushed.

“Chief, please,” said Ryan, stepping in front of Crimbleton’s desk to put himself between the two women. “Just hear us out. We’ve uncovered some new information about Tim Jr. that has us curious. He has a few minor arrests. You’ll remember he said nothing about those in your interview with him. People hold back information in interviews, Chief. They lie.”

“I don’t see what minor arrests have to do with anything. Did he hurt someone?”

“He got into fights at casinos. He has a history of violence. It should be enough to get a warrant. You have to admit it’s a little suspicious. Checking his finances is a necessary precaution. When a millionaire dies, the finances of everyone involved need to be checked.”

“I see. Well…” Crimbleton fidgeted with her hands.

“There is no way Camila Skimmerhorn moved her brother’s body without help,” said Ryan, his voice calm, but stern. “She had a partner, but we’ve done all the online digging we could since you called us this morning, and we can’t find anyone she was close to. She doesn’t have social media. She hardly has a digital footprint at all. Her finances could be the key to finding the person she’s working with. She could have paid someone to help her move the body. I can’t access her records without breaking the law. You can do it just by filling out some paperwork. Is that really so much to ask?”

Georgia had stopped pacing and was watching Crimbleton watch Ryan, afraid to even breathe too loudly.

“
A
ll right
, Mr. Yates. You’ve made your point, and you’ve done it without yelling or accusing me of being a yokel,” said Crimbleton, shooting a glare Georgia’s way. “I’ll get started on those warrants, but only if you leave me in peace.”

“Thank you, Chief,” said Ryan, tipping his fedora.

“Yes, thank you,” said Georgia, a little embarrassed by her own behavior. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“You’re forgiven. Now shoo,” said Crimbleton, waving them off.

Georgia froze when she opened Crimbleton’s office door to see Cooper, clad in his Port Grace police chief uniform, leaning against the wall near Rutherford’s desk. Both deputies were looking at him with something like awe, but Georgia thought it was probably his pristine uniform and authoritative stance rather than his movie star looks that were transfixing them. She, on the other hand, couldn’t help giving his dark hair, blue eyes, and square jaw an appreciative look despite her irritation.

“Hey, Georgia,” he said, flashing his easy smile. “Julie didn’t know exactly where you were staying, so I figured I could probably find you here.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” said Ryan, stepping forward so that he was partially standing between Cooper and Georgia, his arms stiff at his sides.

Cooper gave Ryan a once-over, and his smile slipped a little before he turned his eyes back to Georgia’s.

“I’m here to help,” he said. “From our last few conversations, it sounds like you’re having a hard time finding what you need.”

“You don’t have any jurisdiction here,” said Ryan. “How are you going to help us find anything we can’t already find on our own? And you’ve been talking to him about the case?” he said to Georgia.

“Yes,” said Georgia, glaring at him. She did not like his accusatory tone. “Is that a crime?”

“No, I just…”

“He’s right, though, Cooper,” said Georgia, turning away from Ryan. “You didn’t have to come all this way. I mean, you’re the chief of police. You can’t exactly just up and leave to solve cases in another town, can you?”

Cooper looked hard at Georgia, and his shoulders sagged. He gave her a sad smile and sighed.

“Don’t you get that you’re not just anyone to me, Georgia?” said Cooper. “I’d do anything for you. You sounded so stressed when we talked last. I thought maybe I could help. Besides, you’ve been gone for a while now. I’ve missed you.”

“I haven’t been gone that long, Cooper,” said Georgia, not liking where this was going, mostly because she did not like having an audience.

“It feels like a long time to me,” said Cooper, coming across the room to take a hold of her hand. “I think about you all the time. You’re fascinating, Georgia. You’re so intelligent and professional. You astound me with the things you can do.” He reached up to gently touch her face. “You’re so elegant, like a woman from a bygone era, but you’re also modern and feisty and fun. I want to spend more time with you, Georgia. I want to be a part of your life. I want to be there when you need me. I want you to
let
me be there.”

Georgia was having a hard time breathing. The things he was saying were stirring something in the pit of her stomach, but her eyes kept drifting to Rutherford and Peak, who were watching with smirks on their faces, and Ryan, who was pale and stiff as a board.

“You mean you want a relationship,” she said, finally.

“Yes.”

“You’re asking me this now? Here?” she said, the frustration overtaking the fluttering in her stomach.

“You sound mad,” said Cooper, taking a step back. “Why are you mad?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re doing this here!” said Georgia, waving her arm to cover the whole station and all its witnesses.

“I’m sorry, but I just wanted you to understand why I came. I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks. Why are you so angry? Do you not feel the same way? If not, just tell me. Why are you yelling?”

“Because, Cooper, if you knew me at all, you would know not to do this here, now, while I’m working!”

“Georgia, I want to be in a relationship because I want to
get
to know you,” said Cooper, the pain on his face assuaging her anger just a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did,” said Ryan, stepping in front of Georgia. “I think you should go back home.”

“Oh really? You think so?” said Cooper, his voice low and dangerous, his shoulders back.

“Knock it off, Ryan,” said Georgia. “You too, Cooper. I’ve had it with the both of you! I don’t want a relationship right now, period, and if you two are going to act like this, I certainly don’t want a relationship with either of you.”

She felt like screaming and crying all at once, so instead, she shoved her way past both of them. Just before the station door closed behind her, she heard Ryan shout, “Fine. Be that way! I’m going back to New York!”

Georgia got into her car, slammed the door, and took off toward the bed and breakfast without looking back. Her blood was boiling. Cupcake was going to be put down, the police weren’t listening to her,
again
, and now she had lost her two best allies because they both refused to respect her wishes. When she got to the B&B, she marched up to her room and sat cross-legged on the bed, frustrated and a little bit desperate. She didn’t know how to proceed with the investigation. She knew her way around a computer, but she didn’t know how to dig deep into the recesses of the internet and pull out information like Ryan did. She didn’t have the resources Cooper or Crimbleton did. She had to hope that Crimbleton would keep her word and get the warrants. Still, it probably wouldn’t be fast enough to save Cupcake.

She heard the thumping of drawers in the room next door—Ryan’s room. He was packing. He really was heading back to New York. Her anger flared again. He was abandoning her just because she didn’t want to start a relationship. She flopped back on the bed, mad at Ryan, mad at Cooper, and mad at Crimbleton. If the chief had just gotten the warrants sooner like she should have, Cupcake wouldn’t be in jeopardy.

She heard Ryan slam the door to his room. She felt a tug of loss that she hadn’t expected. She really did care for him. Why did he need her to care for him in a romantic way? He shouldn’t make her choose between a romantic relationship and no relationship at all. Still, he was her best friend in the world, and she probably could have handled things better back at the station. Lying there on the bed, she realized she desperately didn’t want him to go, not like this. They had to fix things before he left, or the relationship they did have might never be repaired.

She rushed out of her room and into the parking lot. There was no sign of Ryan’s rental. She jumped in her own car and headed toward the airport to catch him. She fiddled her fingers on the steering wheel and looked anxiously out all her windows in search of his car. She stomped on the brake when she saw it. She had expected to see the rental on the road ahead of her, but the black sedan was parked outside Camila Skimmerhorn’s house. As she pulled up behind Ryan’s car, she saw why he had stopped. There was another car in the drive: a candy apple red Camaro.

She jumped out of her Rolls and ran toward the house. She was just about to run up the creaky porch steps when Ryan’s urgent whisper made her spin around.

“Georgia, over here.”

Ryan was crouched down behind the bushes and shrubs in the garden, just underneath a windowsill. Georgia joined him, and he put a finger to his lips and then pointed at the window. Georgia peeked over the sill and into the house. Tim Jr. was crouched down in front of Camila’s firewood stove in his fancy suit. There was a stack of papers beside him.

“He’s been heating the stove since I got here,” Ryan whispered.

“What’s he doing here?” said Georgia. “Where’s Camila?”

Ryan shrugged. As the two of them watched, Tim Jr. began to feed the stack of papers to the flames one by one, making sure each piece was completely obliterated before he put in the next. Ryan whipped out his phone and began recording a video.

“That’s evidence,” said Georgia, when Tim was on his second piece of paper. “We have to stop him.”

“We can make a citizen’s arrest,” said Ryan. “This video gives us cause. Follow me.”

Ryan did not have to pick the lock this time. The two of them rushed into the kitchen, and Tim Jr. cried out and snatched at the stack of papers when he saw them, ready to throw the stack into the fire. Ryan tackled him to the floor before he could do so.

“Get off me! I’ll have you arrested,” said Tim Jr.

“That’s funny,” said Ryan, “because I’m putting you under citizen’s arrest for tampering with evidence in a murder case, and possibly for breaking and entering.” Ryan took out the cuffs he kept on him for his job and secured Tim Jr.’s hands. “Where is your aunt?”

Tim Jr. only glared at Ryan and Georgia. Georgia knelt to pick up the scattered papers when a giant crash came from overhead.

“You watch him,” said Georgia. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Be careful,” said Ryan.

Georgia raced up the stairs and found the source of the crash in Camila’s study. Camila had been tied to her own chair by the scarves that had been draped over it. One of the scarves gagged her mouth. In her struggle to free herself, she had accidentally tipped the chair over. She was moaning in pain when Georgia entered and freed her.

“Why didn’t they tell me?” said Camila when Georgia removed the gag.

“Who? Tell you what?”

“The spirits,” said Camila as Georgia gently helped her to her feet. “Why didn’t they tell me he was a bad boy?”

“
O
kay
, Miss Mason,” said Crimbleton, holding out Ryan’s phone and squinting so that she could see the video clearly, “you and your P.I. here take the lead, because you’re going to have to explain this one to me.”

“You can’t prove anything,” said Tim Jr., his blond hair in disarray from Ryan wrestling him into the car. “I want my lawyer.”

“So you’ve said,” said Georgia, settling into one of the metal chairs across from Tim in the interrogation room. “He’s coming. That doesn’t mean I can’t explain the evidence to the chief. You might want to listen up, too, Timmy.”

Georgia winked at him, and he scowled in return. Georgia held out a hand, and Ryan handed her the papers they had collected from Camila’s house.

“This is what he was trying to burn, Chief,” said Georgia. “Most of them are letters between himself and his Aunt Camila. I assume he got them from her study. It was full of papers.”

“The crazy old broad doesn’t throw away anything,” Tim Jr. grumbled.

“I suspect she either told him that she kept their correspondence, or he found them when he tied her up and tried to frame her for his father’s murder.”

“Frame her?” said Crimbleton. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll get to that,” said Georgia. “First, you need to understand what the letters reveal. I read a few on the way over here, and it was enough to get the basic idea. You can take a look for yourself.”

Crimbleton sat next to Georgia and began pulling the letters toward herself.

“It seems Tim Jr. has a gambling problem. We told you about his arrests at the casinos. Those fights he got in with staff were probably started when the staff tried to…send a message. I think that when that warrant for his finances comes through, you’ll find that Timmy here has lost his fortune to gambling debt.”

Tim Jr. slumped in his chair and crossed his arms like a petulant child.

“The first letter to Camila is dated two years ago,” said Georgia. “It seems he didn’t even know she existed until then—a product of his near estrangement with his father. In fact, I’m willing to bet the reason Tim Sr. had less and less to do with his son had as much to do with Timmy’s growing gambling addiction as his disapproval of Timmy’s refusal to work.

“Anyways, when Timmy couldn’t get any more money out of his father and learned about his aunt, he contacted Camila in hopes that she would give him money. He didn’t know that she was under Tim Sr.’s thumb and had little money of her own. He found that out quick enough, but he decided to use it to his advantage. He thought he could persuade her to help him kill his father for the inheritance. He befriended her, and then he started hinting at his plan in his letters, but poor Camila was too far gone in the head to fully understand what he wanted. So, nothing happened.

“I’m betting Timmy started getting more and more pressure from his debt collectors, so he made a trip to see his father to beg for financial help in person. That’s when you found out the truth, isn’t it, Timmy?” said Georgia, leaning over the table and staring right into Tim Jr.’s eyes as she pushed the thick document across the table toward him. “That’s when you found out about the will.”

Tim Jr. stared at the will like it was a steaming pile of vomit. His hands clenched into fists so tight that he left indentations in his palms.

“Your father saw you as a failure and a disappointment who squandered money and who was too lazy to earn it back. He didn’t think you deserved any more of his money. He thought there was someone much more deserving.”

“A dog!” Tim Jr. said, rising from his chair, his face like a boiled lobster. “He cuts me out of the will and leaves everything to a dog! Who does that? What kind of a lunatic does that?”

“You don’t mean he left everything to Cupcake?” said Crimbleton, mouth agape.

Ryan chuckled. “That’s exactly what he means.”

“See for yourself,” said Georgia, grinning as she pushed the will toward Crimbleton and pointed at Cupcake’s name listed under ‘beneficiary.’

“Well I’ll be damned,” said Crimbleton, a smile of her own playing at her lips. Her eyes flicked up to Tim Jr., and she pointed a stern finger at him. “Sit down or I’ll cuff you to the table.”

“You didn’t like that too much, did you, Timmy?” said Georgia.

“Quite calling me that,” said Tim Jr. “He called me that, and I hated it. He called me that right before I pushed him over that cliff! You know what he said? ‘You don’t deserve a single cent, Timmy, and I’ll see that you never get one. It’s for your own good.’ For my own good? I told him what kind of guys were after me, and he thinks throwing me to the wolves is for my own good? That dog was his son, not me! That’s essentially what he told me. Of course I got angry! Who wouldn’t? I wanted to punch him, to throttle him, but I didn’t. I shoved him, and he went over the edge. Good riddance!”

“Even in your anger, you were clever enough not to leave any marks on him,” said Georgia. “You thought you’d gotten away with it. No one even knew you existed except Camila. But then you got the call to come back into town. You had to know your gambling debts would come to light soon enough, so you had to point the investigation away from yourself. What better scapegoat than your crazy aunt who trusted you because you were the only person who spoke kindly to her? How did you convince her to burn the body, Timmy?”

“Wasn’t that hard,” said Tim with a scoff. “When I came to see her to ask about the funeral arrangements, she said he wanted to be cremated. She said the best place to do it would be out in nature, under the sky, so that his spirit would have an easy trip into the heavens, or some nonsense like that. I told her we could do that, and she believed me, as easy as that. I hadn’t even planned on that part. She dropped it in my lap.”

“You helped her steal the body and build the fire,” said Georgia. “Then, when the fire was started, you left and called in a tip to get her caught.”

“But then you screwed up,” said Ryan. “Trying to play the dutiful nephew, you hired her a lawyer who got her off the murder charge. You could have just let it go, but you wanted the money. You planned to destroy the will. Get Camila locked up for life and you are the only valid beneficiary if your aunt is locked away and there’s no will to be found.”

“He got Camila to let him in today, and then he tied her up and found the letters she had kept,” said Georgia. “How did you plan to get around attacking her like that? Were you going to bully her into silence? She’s at the hospital now, getting tended to and filing an assault charge with an officer there.”

Tim Jr. seemed to have finally realized he’d said too much.

“None of this is admissible,” he said with his chin high. “I asked for lawyer and you’re still questioning me. My confession can’t be used in court.”

“We aren’t questioning you,” said Georgia, “remember? We were just explaining the evidence to the chief. You’re the one who butted in.”

Tim Jr. went pale, crossed his arms again, and stared at the wall.

“Anyways,” said Georgia with a smirk, “when we caught him, he was burning the letters completely, but my guess is that he planned to leave just enough of the will unburned to get Camila arrested for the murder. I assume he would have called in another tip, this time as himself.”

Crimbleton blew out a long breath and shook her head. “I’m impressed, Miss Mason. I should never have doubted you. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“Of course, Chief,” said Georgia. “And I apologize for getting so hotheaded. Thanks for letting us help.”

“You can come back to Windy Cove and help me out any time,” said Crimbleton, holding out a hand.

Georgia took it and smiled, feeling a familiar rush of exhilaration and pride at the successful closure of another case.

G
eorgia
, Cooper, and Ryan were settled snuggly in the lounge chairs in the B&B’s sitting room. There was a hint of awkwardness in the air, betrayed by Georgia’s occasional biting of her lip, Ryan’s drumming on the arms of his chair, and Cooper’s extra straight back.

“So, the dog really inherited the mansion?” said Cooper.

“Yep,” said Georgia, giggling at the thought, “and Camila adopted him. The two of them moved in today. I went over to see if Camila had any interest in finishing the sale her brother had started. She didn’t, of course, so I guess I’m going to have to look elsewhere for my client. Camila looks twenty years younger, though.”

“Guess she really is a witch,” said Ryan.

Georgia and Cooper laughed along with him.

“I think it had more to do with the professional dye job,” said Georgia.

“Oh, don’t be a cynic,” said Ryan.

“All right, she’s a witch, then,” said Georgia.

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, everyone looking off in opposite directions. Other guests milled around the room, some taking up seats. Finally, Georgia cleared her throat.

“Look, boys,” she said, making them both turn desperate eyes to her face, “I’m sorry for how things went down at the station.”

The two men remained silent, avoiding looking at each other.

“I’m sorry that I’ve had to disappoint you both, but I’m not going to apologize for my decision. It’s my decision to make. I hope you can understand.”

“I’m sorry for making everything so…public,” said Cooper. “I understand. I hope you’ll change your mind, but I do understand.”

“I’m sorry, too,” said Ryan, “for being a jerk. I’ve been putting unfair pressure on you. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Georgia.”

Georgia smiled at them both, looked at her watch, and got up from her chair.

“Thank you, both of you,” she said. “Now, I’ve got to head back and save the office from Julie. Keep in touch, boys.”

“
O
h
, thank God,” said Julie, throwing her arms around Georgia’s neck when she walked into the office. “I was worried you weren’t ever coming back and I’d be stuck in real estate forever.”

“All right, drama queen, easy; you’re suffocating me,” said Georgia, but she returned Julie’s tight hug all the same.

Georgia felt soft fur on her leg and looked down to see Mittens twisting her usual figure eight and purring. Georgia snatched the cat up and buried her face in the soft white and brown fur.

“Hi, baby. You miss me?”

Mittens meowed and flicked her tail so that it rubbed Georgia’s face.

“You’re still keeping her here?” Georgia asked Julie.

“Oh yeah. Dad can’t handle her during the day. I told you she was acting out. Last night she dropped her mouse toy in his spaghetti and splattered him with tomato sauce. I thought it was hilarious, but he didn’t.”

“I guess I better get him a good bottle of wine as a peace offering before I show up.”

“Good plan,” said Julie with a wink. “So, you have to tell me how it went, having Cooper and Ryan in the same place. Who are you going to choose? Did you choose already? Did they fight?”

“Easy, Jules,” said Georgia with a disapproving look. “I chose neither of them. They’ve both been driving me crazy. I really like both of them, but if the past few days have taught me anything, it’s that I shouldn’t date the people I’m working with.”

F
ind
out what Georgia discovers in book 3 of The Port Grace Mysteries! Coming Soon!

T
o find
out when Emily Page has new books available and to get exclusive free ebooks sign up here:
http://bit.ly/1GopnOL