Home Sweet Homicide: A Cozy Mystery (A Gemma Stone Murder Mystery Book 5) (11 page)

Suddenly, Gemma knew what had been tugging at the back of her mind. It was something she had seen in that garage. Something that would make wheel marks on the carpeted steps. And she was sure the killer’s fingerprints would be all over it.

Trouble was, if Gilmore had fingerprinted anything in that house, she was pretty sure he’d concentrated on the bedroom.

L
unch was full of chatter and plans. Gemma watched while Holly proudly showed off their products and explained how they worked. To Gemma’s surprise, Holly offered to let their new employee live in the apartment above the shop as part of her compensation. Natalie was thrilled with the idea and thanked them over and over again for being so kind and generous.

After the pizza was gone, Holly and Natalie went to work with the measuring tape. They mapped out spots for the display cases while Gemma took notes. When they were finished, they shopped online and ended up going with some that looked as if they were antique, made of oak and glass to compliment the décor of the building. They also had a plan for the electrician to add some accent lighting.

“That should do it for now,” Gemma said. Stiff from where she’d been sitting on the floor, she stood up and stretched. “And I’m beat.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Holly said. “What do you say we call it a day?”

“Agreed.”

“When do you want me to work again?” Natalie asked as they parted ways.

“We’ll let you know. Things are kind of up in the air right now,” Holly told her. “I guess we’re going to paint that brick wall if the owner will let us. How are you at painting?”

“Pretty good,” Natalie said with a smile.

“We want to get you moved into that apartment pretty quickly, though,” Gemma added. “What were your plans for summer?”

“Well, since I now have a place to live, I was thinking about taking some classes over the summer months,” Natalie said. Her pretty pink hair was coming loose from her pony tail, curling around her face. “Finish my degree quicker that way.”

“Good idea,” Holly said, and put her SUV in gear. “We’ll be in touch.”

The moment they pulled away from the store, Gemma’s thoughts returned to the last bit of information Nick had given them and what she had seen in the garage.

“I wonder how hard it is to get fingerprints.” Gemma mused.

“I know they use some kind of powder and maybe tape or something. Why?”

“Just thinking,” Gemma said. The last thing she wanted to do was alert Holly to her plans. But then again Holly might be willing to help. “Unless you’d like to help me break into a house tonight.”

“No, thanks. I enjoy my freedom a little too much for that,” Holly said. “And I’m thinking you do too.”

“You’re right,” Gemma said but she already had another accomplice in mind and she was sure he wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, he probably knew how to get fingerprints.

On the way to her house, Holly got a call from Mitch. While she talked to him, Gemma gazed out the window and thought about how dangerous her plan could be. What if the owners of the house were there? What if she got caught? Still, she had to try. She knew, in her heart, that the killer had that hand truck to move something down those stairs. This was her only chance to prove Ross’s innocence.

And Ross was innocent. Gilmore was wrong.

Back at her house, steaks were marinating in something that smelled delicious. Baked potatoes were arranged on the counter, ready for the grill, but Aunt Maisy and Ross were nowhere to be found.

“Honey, I’m home,” Gemma announced to the empty kitchen.

Nothing.

“Where could they be?” she muttered as she poured herself a glass of tea from the big pitcher in the refrigerator and wandered through the house. She didn’t miss the duffle bag tucked in beside the sofa. Ross had evidently managed to get to his apartment and back without being seen. And it looked like he planned on staying a few days.

That thought made her happy and nervous all at the same time. That nervousness grew when she remembered that Gilmore could probably arrest her for harboring a fugitive or maybe even aiding and abetting a killer. She almost giggled at that thought.

She finally located them both in the back yard, relaxing in the late afternoon sunshine. Ross looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. He had changed into dark colored jeans and a navy blue shirt. Without a tie and with the sleeves rolled up revealing powerful forearms, he certainly looked more like a cop than a killer. Aunt Maisy was sitting there as well, her long dress spread out over her legs, and the toes of her little black slippers sticking out. The cat was curled up on her lap and she stroked it rhythmically with her tiny hand.

No witch hat. For that Gemma was grateful.

Not wanting to disturb them, Gemma hurried upstairs to shower and change out of her dirty clothes.

Ross smiled when she stepped out onto the patio. The day was cooling down nicely and seeing him there, relaxed and smiling, was a welcome sight.

“There’s that working girl.”

Gemma laughed and hugged her aunt. “So, did you guys have a good day?”

“We did,” Ross said. “Strangely relaxing. Did you get a lot done?”

“Absolutely. It’s going to be a great location. We’ve cleaned and ordered display cases. Next, if the owner will let us, we’ll paint that brick.” Gemma told him. “It looks like you managed to get home and grab a change of clothes.”

“Yeah, those guys really need more training on tailing a suspect,” Ross said, shaking his head.

“Or maybe they’re not trying very hard. These are your friends, Ross, and co-workers. Do you think they’d just take Gilmore’s orders without a second thought?” Gemma reasoned. Then an idea struck her. “They might have a tracking device on your car. Since it hasn’t moved...”

Ross shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Gilmore’s a hot shot in Harrisonburg. Wants to make a name for himself down here.”

Gemma changed the subject. “It also looks like you guys have a nice dinner planned.”

“Which reminds me, I need to chop veggies for a salad,” Aunt Maisy said, rising to her feet with the grace of a ballet dancer.

Gemma watched her aunt. Sometimes she moved slowly, as if she was much older than she seemed. Sometimes she moved with the agility and ease of a young girl.

“I’ll come and help,” Gemma said, opening the sliding glass door for her aunt.

“No, you visit with Ross,” Aunt Maisy said. “Come on, Kitty.”

The cat followed obediently and Gemma was alone with Ross on the patio.

He smiled easily, returned to his seat and patted the chair next to his. “Sit for a minute, I want to talk to you.”

As happy as Gemma was to see him, why was being alone with Ross making her so nervous? Still, she crossed the stones and sat next to him, placing her glass of tea on a nearby table. She needed to talk to him about fingerprints but knew she’d have to bring it up carefully.

“Spent some time online today,” he began.

“And?” Gemma asked. Now, he had her attention.

“Seems Ms. Mack had her fingers in more pies than we even guessed about,” he said.

“Shady?”

Ross wiggled his hand back and forth meaning maybe shady, maybe not. “It looks like she might have had an ‘in’ with someone on the zoning board.”

Gemma was not surprised.

“About a year ago, she set up a real estate development company. That company purchased several large tracts of land and built little McMansions on one of them. From all reports shoddy construction at a not so shoddy price. Then the state decided to widen Route Two-Fifty, wiped out most of that area.”

“Bought them out for nearly nothing,” Gemma guessed.

“Yep.”

“And her name isn’t on the paperwork anywhere is it?” Gemma guessed again.

“Not unless you do some real digging, which I just happen to be pretty good at,” Ross said.

“I’ll bet there are a lot of angry people connected with that,” Gemma mused.

Ross nodded. “Several are pretty vocal about it. Nick could probably get them to talk to him.”

“Suspects?” Gemma asked.

Ross shrugged. “Maybe. Listen, Gemma, I’m a pretty good judge of character. I have to be in my line of work. Sometimes my life and the lives of my men depend on it. Katie fooled me...”

“She was able to fool everyone, Ross. She was pretty and bright and funny and friendly. No one suspected anything.”

Ross shook his head and they were quiet for a few minutes, simply enjoying the sounds of the neighborhood in the evening. A dog parked. A child squealed and then laughter rang out, clear and high and happy. Someone’s mom called out that dinner was ready.

“Nick came by the shop today. He had a bit of information he forgot to give us this morning,” Gemma told him.

“Oh, yeah?” Ross turned to her, interested.

“Yeah, it seems there are marks on the carpeted steps, like something heavy was wheeled up or down the stairs.”

“The family moving something?” Ross guessed.

“The family says no,” Gemma told him.

“And I’m guessing you have an idea,” Ross said.

“When Holly and I were giving ourselves a tour of the downstairs, I saw a hand truck in the garage,” Gemma said, sitting up straight and turning to face him.

“I’m listening.”

“What if Katie wasn’t killed in that bedroom. What if the murder started there and she ran downstairs?”

“Trying to escape.”

Gemma nodded. “Bodies are heavy. An easy way to get it back upstairs to that bedroom would be to use a hand truck.”

“You have a devious mind,” Ross said, laughing softly.

“You know Gilmore didn’t dust anything in the garage for prints. He barely let them print the house.” Gemma hesitated and then dived in. “Do you think that’s enough to entice you to go with me tonight to see if we can lift fingerprints from that hand truck?

Ross didn’t respond. Sipped his tea. Looked away from her. Looked back.

“That had to be how it happened. We know the killer is disorganized. He left too many clues, made too many mistakes, and his fingerprints will be on it. I know.”

“Okay, if what you say is correct, this could be our salvation. But that’s B&E,” Ross said.

“Like you’ve never done that before,” Gemma teased.

Ross shook his head. “No. Really. I’ve never done that before.”

“So you don’t know how to pick locks and...”

Ross was still shaking his head. “It’s not like on TV, honey.”

“Well, it’s time you had that experience, as an officer of the law,” Gemma said, surprised at his confession.

Ross laughed aloud.

“So how do we get into that garage?”

“Let’s wait until dark. If you’ll let me use your car, I’ll go over and check it out just to see how well it’s locked up. Maybe the owners will be there. I know they’re moving out and...”

“I’m going, too,” Gemma said. “You’re not leaving me out of this adventure.”

Ross grew serious and shook his finger at her. “Okay, but you stay in the car.”

Gemma laughed. There was no way she was sitting in a car waiting for him to get into that house.

Dinner was delicious. The steaks tender and juicy, the potatoes perfect. Aunt Maisy guessed correctly about Ross’s Italian heritage and told them some wonderful stories about living there. Ross confessed he’d never been to Italy and Gemma longed to travel to Rome and explore the ruins.

After dinner, Ross and Gemma worked together cleaning up the kitchen.

In the end, it seemed Ross had been thinking about it all along.

“We’ll have to make our own fingerprint kit,” Ross said, quietly. “And be quiet about it. I don’t want your aunt to know what we’re up to.”

Gemma nodded. “Tell me what you need.”

“Cocoa powder, white index cards, clear tape and a soft brush,” he said, ticking off each item on his fingers.

“Got it,” Gemma said.

In the dining room that she used for an office, she found white index cards. It took her a moment to find the clear tape.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Ross who had followed her. “See if you can find the end.”

Up in her bedroom, Gemma found a round, soft bristled brush she used for makeup. While she was there, she dressed in black slacks and a dark sweater. Tugging on her short, black boots, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. Now, she was dressed for a night of adventure.

It wasn’t until she was coming back down the stairs that she realized there was no cocoa powder in the house. Did anyone even use cocoa powder anymore? Trying to remember the last time she had seen a can of cocoa powder was probably at Holly’s house. It was dark brown, sort of oval shaped with a round metal lid. In her mind’s eye, she could even see the label, Hershey’s Cocoa Powder, in tall silvery letters.

The closest store to buy food was the convenience store two blocks over. That was where you bought bread and milk, not baking items. Maybe the small grocery store out on Route Eleven would have some. Maybe they could use some other kind of powder. Gemma was so engrossed in her thoughts, she almost ran into Aunt Maisy, who stepped out of the dining room just as Gemma hit the bottom of the steps.

They laughed and Gemma hugged her aunt. She had no idea how much she’d missed having a real, blood relative close.

“Child, you were thinking about something awfully hard,” Aunt Maisy said.

“Sorry, Ross asked me to gather up a couple of things for him,” Gemma said, holding up the brush by the long handle. “I have everything but cocoa powder, I think.”

“You have cocoa powder,” Aunt Maisy said, starting toward the kitchen.

Gemma shook her head and followed. “I doubt it, Aunt Maisy. “I rarely bake anything and if I want hot cocoa, I use the instant kind.”

“You do. I saw it. On the top shelf of the cabinet over the stove,” Aunt Maisy insisted.

Gemma laughed and hugged her sweet aunt again as she reached for the cabinet door. “Okay, I’ll look but I’m pretty sure...”

There it sat. Exactly as she had remembered, dark brown, oval shaped can. Same label.

G
emma looked from her aunt to the can of cocoa that looked exactly like the one she had envisioned. She looked at her aunt, blinked, and then back at the innocent can sitting on the shelf.