Triple Dip Debacle: A Cozy Mystery (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book 7) (5 page)

“He what?” Brandon asked.

Stormi waved her hand. “Don’t get me started. But like Momma said, the man is dead now so I need to get over it.”

Stormi’s cell phone rang. “That’s Greg. Excuse me.”

Dottie and I explained to Brandon what occurred earlier in the day. How we found Mr. Pennington on the floor by the swing door. Brandon stood up and looked at the area behind the counter. “Which side of the door was he on?”

“He was on this side,” I answered.

“That’s odd. I could see someone getting the jump on him as he walked to the back of the store.”

“True, so it must have been someone he knew.”

Stormi raced out of the back of the store through the swing door and looked across the street. “Brandon, go get ol’ Charlie.”

My heart froze. “Oh my gosh I forgot! Charlie was here when we left this morning. He was here with Mr. Pennington.”

“You don’t think he did it?” Brandon asked.

Stormi gave Brandon a look of exasperation. “No Sherlock, but Greg is coming down and he wants Charlie here too.”

I raced to the window as Brandon left to walk across the street to get Charlie. “I turned and looked at Stormi and Dottie. “I can’t believe we forgot about him being here. Do you think he saw someone?”

“I’m sure that’s why Greg wants to talk to him,” Stormi answered.

“Wait,” I said. “How did Greg know Charlie had been here?”

Now Stormi looked confused. “Ummm, he didn’t say.”

Brandon opened the door making sure to duck out of the way of the bobbing slow moving sign attached to Charlie’s electric wheelchair. “Hello ladies. I was just getting ready to mosey on home when Brandon here said I needed to stop by the shoppe.”

“Yes Charlie, Greg wanted you to come over,” Stormi explained. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. Charlie, have you heard what happened here today?”

“Not sure, what do you mean?”

Stormi looked at me and I nodded. “Did you know there was a murder committed in the shoppe here today?”

“Again?” Yeesh! My shoppe was becoming murder capital in this small town.

“Do you remember the man that was here this morning? The short guy, we left him here with you when we went over to look at Bruce and Paige’s new furniture.”

“What? You’ll have to speak up,” Charlie announced. “My hearing aid went on the fritz yesterday and I’m waiting for a new one. What about the short fellow and someone’s furnace?”

Greg walked into the shoppe and said, “I see you’re already questioning my witness.”

Stormi looked like the kid with their hand in the cookie jar. “I was trying to move things along. Wait a minute…how did you know Charlie was here this morning.”

Greg was carrying a paper bag. “Because of this.”

Stormi’s face sagged. “A paper bag.”

“It’s what’s inside the paper bag.” Greg donned a pair of latex gloves, and then removed the item from the paper bag. Incased in a plastic bag was a shoe. Mr. Pennington’s shoe. I could tell because no one else around here wore the white patent leather shoes. Without removing the shoe from the plastic bag, Greg took it over to Charlie’s wheelchair and placed it next to one of the wheels.

“Brandon, come here,” Greg said. Brandon stooped over to see what Greg was pointing at. “See the tire treads on the shoe. Looks like a match don’t you think?”

Brandon nodded. “Looks like a perfect match.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. “How does Charlie’s wheelchair tire tie into all this?”

Greg put the shoe back into the paper sack. “After meeting with the coroner and finding out a few things from the forensic team, I’ve come up with a scenario. I wanted to come down here and see if it might bear fruit.”

Greg walked back over to Charlie and pointed to the wheelchair tire. “There’s a tread mark from a very thin tire on Mr. Pennington’s shoe. The wheel rolled over the tip of his shoe and left a mark. At first we thought it was a bicycle tire, but that seemed odd, then I thought of Charlie’s wheelchair.”

“I’m puzzled at why you thought of Charlie’s wheelchair.” I said.

“There’s another reason besides the tire mark that made me think of Charlie. Mr. Pennington had a gash on the side of his nose. It wasn’t deep, but it was a perfect small slice, like something sharp hit it.”

“What about the wedding cake knife?” Stormi asked. “Couldn’t someone have sliced him in the face before plunging it into his chest?”

“Here’s the thing. The knife doesn’t match the cut on the face. Plus, only Mr. Pennington’s prints are on the knife.”

“But I picked up the knife,” Stormi said. “Wouldn’t my prints be on there too?”

“No,” I remarked. “I remember Mr. Pennington removing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping it off after you put it back on the table.”

“So how did he get the cut on his face?” Brandon asked.

Greg pointed to the slow moving sign that continued to bob lazily up and down on the back of Charlie’s wheelchair. He took a hold of the slow moving sign with his latex covered hands and inspected it. “Just what I thought. Charlie, I’m going to have to take your wheelchair in as evidence.”

“Now wait a minute Greg, you don’t think Charlie had anything to do with the crime?” I asked.

“Oh I think he was a big part of it, yes,” Greg answered.

“You say you want my wheels?” Charlie asked Greg.

Greg raised his voice so Charlie could hear. “Yes I’m going to have to take the wheelchair for a few days. I’ll get you another one from the pharmacy up the street.”

“If you have to,” Charlie replied. “I’m kind of partial to this one.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can.”

“I’m lost Greg,” Stormi replied. “How is Charlie tying into this?”

Greg took off the latex gloves. “This is just a theory but I believe this is what happened to Mr. Pennington. I don’t believe it was a murder at all, but an accident.”

“How in the world do you plunge a knife into your chest by accident?” Stormi asked.

“Yeah Greg, this seems a little preposterous,” I agreed.

“Okay, let me show you,” Greg answered. He walked over to Charlie. “Charlie, do you remember leaving the shoppe this morning?”

“Yes’m. The girls left and I finished my coffee. I was going to leave out the front, but I can’t open the door by myself. I can get out the back way though because the door isn’t as heavy. That short fellow was standing behind the ice cream counter. He was very involved in whatever was in that box sitting on the counter. I didn’t want to bother him, so I thought I’d come around the other end of the counter and go out the way of the back door.”

“Which means you would have to go through the swinging door leading to the back room first right?” Greg asked.

“Yes, it’s easy to get through, although it does swing pretty hard.”

Greg nodded. “Go on.”

“I got half way in and one of my wheels got stuck and I couldn’t get all the way through. That’s when I asked if the man could scoot my chair over so I could go straight through. I heard him say something about his hands being full or something like that. I couldn’t turn around to see him. My neck and back won’t allow me to turn to far either way, but I felt him kicking the stuck tire on my wheelchair. I didn’t really want him to kick it, but he did dislodge it from where it was pushing against the door frame.”

“Let me stop you right here Charlie,” Greg said. “In which direction was the swing door? Was it pushed in towards the backroom or out into the shoppe?”

“It was pushed in,” Charlie answered. “I pushed it in with my wheelchair.”

“So the door was propped inward with your wheelchair?”

“Yes’m. Once he got the wheel around the doorframe, I backed up to straighten the chair to get through the door. Then I continued through and let the swing door fly shut behind me. I thanked him but I didn’t hear an answer so I went ahead out the back. I figured he‘d close the back door after I went through it.” Charlie shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

Greg patted him on the shoulder. “That’s fine Charlie, you did good.”

Dottie, Brandon, Stormi and I stood at the counter. “Okay Columbo,” Stormi said. “Tell us how this all fits together.”

“My theory, based on the evidence, is that Mr. Pennington was holding the cake service knife in his hand when he was helping to dislodge the wheelchair tire. After he dislodged it, Charlie said he backed up to straighten the chair so he could get through the door. That’s when I think he backed over Mr. Pennington’s shoe leaving the tire mark. The sudden pain to his foot likely made him jerk forward where his face met with the slow moving sign, causing the cut to his face.”

We all nodded. It was starting to make sense. All the pieces were falling into place. I could actually see Pennington dislodge the tire, Charlie backing up, rolling over Mr. P’s shoe and then that floppy sign cutting his face. But what about the final act?

“When Charlie moved his wheelchair, it allowed the swing door to come free. Since the door was pushed back as far as it could go, when it swung free it would carry a lot of force.”

Brandon walked around the counter. “So you’re saying Pennington was standing in the middle of the doorway, he’s not paying attention because his foot’s been run over and his face sliced.” Greg nodded. Brandon stood next to the swing door as Greg pulled it all the way back.

Brandon stood in the middle of the doorframe. “I’m Pennington. I’ve been run over and sliced in the face so I’m not paying attention. I’m holding the cake knife in my hand but it’s turned towards my chest because of everything that’s happened in the span of a few seconds.”

Brandon held an imaginary knife in front of his chest. “Okay, let go of the door.”

Greg released the door and it swung hard into Brandon’s hand, forcing it into his chest. “Wow!” Brandon exclaimed as he looked at us. “I can see how the force would push the knife into his chest.”

“So it was an accident right?” I asked Greg. “Charlie didn’t mean for this to happen.”

I could tell Charlie could barely hear what we were saying without his hearing aid. Likely, why he didn’t hear Pennington fall from the knife wound.

“Of course,” Greg answered. “There will be no charges. It was an unfortunate accident. It’s amazing how everything came together though. Driving over his foot, then the slice to the face with the slow moving sign, and then the final push with the swing door. Charlie really did a number on him without even knowing it.”

Brandon looked at Charlie. “I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

“Okay, let’s wrap this up,” Stormi announced. “It’s been a long day. Charlie let’s get you some new wheels. Only for a few days though, then I’ll make sure Greg gets your wheelchair back to you.”

Charlie steered himself over to Dottie. “Miss Dottie would you like to accompany me and help choose an interim wheelchair?”

“I would be so inclined,” Dottie said. “But first let me have a second with my daughter and her fiancé.”

Dottie walked over to Stormi and Greg. “I think I should head back to Atlanta and let you lovebirds plan your own wedding. I stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong and I don’t want to continue to make a mess of something that should be the most wonderful time of your lives.”

Stormi grabbed her mother’s hands. “Momma, I want you to stay and help me this week. But I only want you, not some person who thinks they know better than me what I want. I’ve always dreamed of having you by my side, helping me pick out my wedding dress, the cake, and the flowers, all of it. But just you, I…and well of course Tara and Paige too.”