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Authors: Kate Carlisle

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BOOK: This Old Homicide
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We both laughed but sobered quickly.

“Guess I’d better get going,” he said, pulling car keys out of his pocket.

“Wait.”

He turned. “What is it, Shannon?”

I swallowed nervously, then gave up. I couldn’t tell him about the necklace. Not until I talked to Jane. But now I had to say something. I took a quick sip of iced tea to quench my dry throat. “I—I know you have to study the evidence, but I hope you’ll hurry up and find whoever did it fast.”

He glanced at me sideways. “I hate to be the one to point this out, but the person who has the most to gain from Jesse’s death is your friend Jane.”

I choked on my iced tea. “You must be joking. Jane is the gentlest creature alive.”

“No doubt,” he said smoothly. “But if I wanted this investigation to conclude quickly, I would arrest her and that would be that.”

“No, that would be insane.” He had to be kidding. Thor would never pick on Jane. All of my nice, companionable feelings for Eric were being swept aside in a tidal wave of outrage. “Don’t you dare arrest Jane! There are a lot more suspicious people around here than her.”

He gave me a look. “Do share.”

I scowled, knowing I’d walked right into that one. “Well, it’s not that I’m accusing anyone, but have you talked to the other neighbors? And his old navy buddies, Ned and Bob? Or Ned’s son, Stephen? Have you talked to him?” As I said all this out loud, I really warmed to my ideas. Jane was a ridiculous suspect, especially when there was a veritable banquet of iffy people to consider instead. “Stephen just suddenly moved here. What’s up with that? And there’s Jesse’s mysterious girlfriend, Althea. Not that she’s all that mysterious. I mean, she’s lovely, but still. They might’ve had a fight or something.”

“Or something,” he said sardonically.

“And you must’ve heard about Jesse’s treasure necklace, right? I mean, not that it exists,” I added quickly, making another mental note to talk to Jane about coming clean. Seriously, I am not a good liar. “He used to talk about this thing he found on the old shipwreck, a jeweled necklace. I don’t think it exists, but someone else might’ve believed him and…”

Oh, dear God, I needed to shut up while I still had half a brain left. “Never mind. That’s pretty far-fetched.”

Eric placed his big, strong hands on my shoulders and gave me a little squeeze. “Shannon, if it’ll ease your mind, I’m in the process of talking to all those people you mentioned. I hadn’t heard the story about that necklace, but whether it’s true or not, I won’t stop investigating until I get some answers. But the fact remains that Jane probably had the most to gain from Jesse’s death.”

“But—”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to arrest her,” he said, holding up his hand to cut me off. “It just means that the investigation is ongoing. I know I’m relatively new in town, but I’m not an idiot. I know Jane isn’t a killer.”

“You do? Okay. Good. And I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“I appreciate that.”

I frowned. “Were you trying to teach me a lesson there?”

“Maybe.” He leaned closer and whispered provocatively, “How’d I do?”

“You’re good,” I said reluctantly. “Scary, but good.”

He walked away grinning.

*   *   *

On the way home from work later that afternoon, I called Jane to talk about the necklace situation. We simply had to tell Eric that I’d found it. But before I could say anything, she told me that she had just arranged for all the locks on Jesse’s doors to be changed.

“Good. It’ll slow the intruder down, but it won’t scare him away. Not like a security guard roaming around.”

“I talked to Eric a little while ago,” she said. “And since there was no sign of forced entry, he assumes that the intruder somehow got ahold of a set of Jesse’s keys. So if that’s true and the guy tries to sneak inside again, his keys won’t work.”

“Okay.” But I hoped the intruder would break in anyway. Did that make me a crazy person?

“And by the way, I slipped a new key under your front doormat.”

“Thanks. That was smart.”

“I thought so. Oh, there’s my landscaper,” she said suddenly. “I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later.”

She hung up before I could say a word about the necklace. I was going to have to call her back tonight because my guilty conscience couldn’t take this much longer.

I stopped at the market for a few things and ran into Lizzie in the produce department.

“Hello, stranger,” she said as she grabbed a head of romaine and plopped it into her basket. “I know it’s barely been a week, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

I gave her a quick hug. “We have to get together for a girls’ night.”

“Yes, please,” she pleaded. “I need a break from sports. It’s all football all the time at my house.”

“Okay, how about Wednesday night? You talk to Marigold and Emily and I’ll talk to Jane and we’ll make a plan.”

“It’s a deal.”

I walked away, happy I’d seen Lizzie, but in the next aisle I was attacked with even more guilt than I’d felt with Eric earlier. Jane and I had sworn each other to secrecy, and that meant keeping information from our dearest friends. I hoped they wouldn’t be furious with us when they found out about the necklace.

I had known Lizzie for as long as I’d known Jane. In other words, for most of my life. Lizzie’s family had lived down the street from me, and because she was five years older than me, she had been my babysitter while I was growing up. In those days, I had looked up to her as an older, smarter woman and had shared all my deepest, darkest thoughts and secrets with her. And now I couldn’t tell her my current deepest, darkest secret!

Emily and Marigold had moved here more recently, but I felt almost as close to them as I did to Lizzie and Jane.

I hurried out to the parking lot, but the guilt followed me.

When I got home, I called Jane’s cell while I put away my groceries. When there was no answer, I didn’t leave a message for fear of someone overhearing me. As soon as I ended the call, I realized how ridiculous that was. I was in my own kitchen, leaving a message on a cell phone.

“Oh great,” I muttered, as I stashed the pint of half-and-half in the fridge. I was getting to be just as paranoid as Jesse had been.

*   *   *

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I was woken by another flash of light coming from next door. I jumped out of bed, wondering how someone got in there. Jane had just changed the locks today. I reached for my cell phone and called Eric to report it. When I got his voice mail, I had to leave a message.

“Damn it. Now what?” But I knew what I had to do. I threw on my clothes, grabbed my baseball bat, and ran downstairs with Robbie at my heels, the floppy stuffed skunk dangling from his mouth. “Stay,” I whispered, and once he was curled up on the rug under the table, I slipped outside my kitchen door and found Mac waiting.

“You saw it, too,” I whispered.

“I was going to give you another five minutes.”

“I called Eric, but I had to leave a message.”

“I got ahold of him,” he said. “Hey, you’ve got a baseball bat.”

I held up the bat. “It’s not quite as effective as a gun, but it can’t hurt.”

“It can, actually, if you swing it too close to my head.” He grabbed my free hand as we walked down the driveway.

It felt oddly as if we were going on a date. To a dead man’s house. To find a killer. I suppose I’d been on weirder dates.

Since the police arrival was imminent, we didn’t venture onto Jesse’s property but stayed on my driveway and out of the way. Eric’s SUV approached quietly and parked a few doors away. He searched Jesse’s house high and low but found no one inside. He scoured the backyard, too, but there was nothing. No clues, no sign of an intruder, nothing.

I thought Mac and I had been as quiet as little mice, but whoever was searching Jesse’s place must have heard us coming. Or maybe they never got inside. Maybe the change of locks had discouraged them. But I’d seen the flashes of light. So maybe they’d only used their flashlight to check the lock and a few windows and then left when they realized they couldn’t get in.

Both Mac and Eric walked me back to my kitchen door and we all whispered good night. They waited until I was inside and the door was locked before Mac returned to his place up the stairs and Eric left through the gate and down the driveway. Holding Robbie, I watched from the kitchen window until everyone was out of sight before I went back to bed.

These late-night missions were oddly thrilling, especially with two good-looking men escorting me around. I wondered what I would do for excitement when we finally caught the culprit.

I mentally smacked myself at such a foolish thought. I mean, we were on the hunt for someone who might have killed my sweet old neighbor. How could I possibly consider it exhilarating—except in the murkiest way possible?

Then call me murky, I thought as I punched my pillow into shape, because I was having way too much fun. And why not enjoy it for now? The thrills would end soon enough and I would go back to my usual routine of sleeping peacefully through the night without all the flashing lights and guilt-spawned nightmares.

And Mac would move out of my garage apartment as soon as the lighthouse mansion—his new home—was fully refurbished. After that, we would see each other around town every so often, but it wouldn’t be the same. And since that thought depressed me more than anything else, I picked up Tiger and held her close. As her steady purring lulled me to sleep, I prayed I’d make it through one night without dreaming of dead bodies and dark basements.

*   *   *

I spent most of Sunday cleaning my house and playing quietly in the garden with Robbie and Tiger. It wasn’t until Monday morning while I was waiting for the coffeepot to fill that I recalled what Eric had said about Jane being the most likely suspect. I knew he’d been teasing me and was only trying to scare me, but he’d succeeded. I was frightened and disturbed to think that the police might actually conclude that Jane was guilty. I couldn’t believe Eric would ever be that short-sighted—unless he found out about the necklace and the fact that we’d been hiding it from him.

That thought sent a chill skittering down my spine. He would probably arrest both of us. That settled it, I thought. It was time to sit down and figure out who really had killed Jesse.

“I’m going to need your help,” I said to Robbie as I pulled out a notepad and pen.

He shivered with energy and barked twice, telling me he was up to the task.

“You, too, Tiger,” I said to the cat as she prowled the kitchen. I sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and a piece of cinnamon toast, and made my own list of suspects and their motives.

“Definitely Cuckoo, right?” I said.

Robbie whined and I laughed. “I don’t like him either.” I glanced at my list. “What do you think of Bob and Ned?”

The little dog tilted his head as if to question why those two old guys were on my list.

“Yeah, they probably can’t swing a sledgehammer or an ax and pound a hole in the wall too easily at their age. But Stephen, Ned’s son?” I glanced down and Robbie barked enthusiastically.

“I think so, too,” I said, chuckling as I added his name to the list.

I checked the clock. It was too early to call Jane and discuss the necklace, but it wasn’t too early for Lizzie. I made the call and firmed up Wednesday night for our girls’ get-together.

I couldn’t wait to tell my friends what I’d found in Jesse’s basement and give them the names of the possible killers and motives I’d come up with. With luck, the girls would have other names to add to my list.

That was what we’d done a few months earlier, when I was the one on top of the suspect list. My girlfriends and I had tracked down information it would’ve taken the police months to find out, simply because we knew this town and the people who lived here so well.

In lieu of girlfriends this time around, Robbie and Tiger sniffed and snuggled at my feet and made me feel as if I ruled the world. Or at least, my little corner of it.

I poured a second cup of coffee and returned to my suspect list. In spite of Eric’s taunting, I refused to put Jane’s name on the list. I knew she didn’t kill Jesse. But there were plenty of others who might have.

I studied the names again. At the top of my list was Cuckoo Clemens, an old grouch and a conniver. He was mean to boot. Even Robbie agreed with me. I could picture Cuckoo fighting with Jesse over the necklace. The way he had demanded that Jane sell him the necklace for an outrageously low amount showed his desperation.

Next came Jesse’s old navy pals, Bob and Ned. I didn’t really suspect them of killing Jesse, mainly because they were too old. They might’ve been able to slip him some sleeping pills, but they couldn’t have caused all that damage in his house. But Ned’s son, Stephen, a strapping young man, as his father might describe him, could have done it. So his was the next name on my list.

Robbie perched attentively on the rug, waiting for me to name my next suspect. “I’m adding Althea,” I said, and smiled as the dog seemed to ponder that suggestion. “I know what you’re thinking, but she’s an obvious choice. The girlfriend nobody knew.”

He tossed his head, shook himself, and then lay down to gnaw on his floppy skunk.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can’t see that she had much to gain by Jesse’s death, but she’d been seeing him regularly, which means she had plenty of opportunity. That has to count for something, right?”

I glanced down and saw that Robbie had lost interest. I couldn’t blame him because I was out of ideas after that. I squiggled little circles and spirals, then wrote Mrs. Higgins’s name on the list. Then I laughed out loud and removed her name. Honestly Mrs. Higgins was barely able to walk outside her front gate, never mind sneak into Jesse’s house and smash a hole in the wall.

Tiger jumped up onto my lap and I put my pen down to pet her. As she settled, I remembered Eric’s words about small-town revenge. Could it be someone in town? A neighbor I’d known forever? I thought more about Jesse. Who were his enemies? It was possible that he had plenty of them because he had been a bit of a curmudgeon. I’d always gotten along with him, but did the rest of our neighbors? Had he ever caused trouble for one of them? I knew that the family living on the other side of Jesse used to have a noisy dog that drove him nuts. The family didn’t have that dog anymore. Had Jesse set it loose and caused it to run away? Would the neighbors have killed him for it?

BOOK: This Old Homicide
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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