Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set Read online

  Chapter Eight

  Of all the people that were in attendance at the service, Detective Stone was the last person I expected to see there. Don’t get me wrong—it was touching that he wanted to pay his respects. It was the timing that bothered me. Stone was in the thick of a murder investigation. I figured he’d be too busy tracking down leads to show up here. Instead, I was dead wrong. Had his leads gone cold? Did the detective hit a road block? Or, had he simply decided to take a brief break before returning to the business at hand? Either way, I wanted to find out.

  The detective wasn’t so eager to be put under the microscope. He actually looked like he wanted to shrug off the spotlight entirely. He must have snuck in after the service had already begun, because I hadn’t spotted him until just now. One thing was clear—he was in a hurry to make a discreet exit.

  I would have to speed up if I wanted to catch up with him. He had already reached his car in the parking lot when I exited the church.

  I called out to him before he got into the driver’s seat.

  “Detective.”

  Stone reluctantly stopped and looked up. When he saw I was the one calling him, he knew conversation was unavoidable. He sighed, resigned in the knowledge that a flurry of questions was about to come his way.

  As I approached, the winter chill sent a shiver down my spine. It was a peculiar-weather day. The sun was out. Not a single cloud was in the sky, yet it was as cold as could be. I could see my breath as I grunted, feeling scorned that the weather couldn’t even let up for one day so that I could say good-bye to my boyfriend in relative warmth.

  Speaking of warmth, I needed as much of it as I could get. I pulled the hood up on my parka and zipped up the jacket to the top of its reach, which left only my eyes and forehead visible to the detective, all the while wishing I’d caught up with Stone inside the church rather than in the parking lot.

  Stone wrinkled his forehead at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back inside?”

  I couldn’t tell whether he just wanted to get rid of me, or if he was concerned about how cold I was. Ultimately, the answer was irrelevant. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’m fine,” I replied.

  Detective Stone disagreed. “Really? Because you look freezing.”

  “Of course I am. We’re in Alaska during the middle of winter. Are you going to pretend like you aren’t freezing?”

  He yielded. “Fair point.”

  As we stood out in the bone-chilling cold, I began regretting making such a big fuss about how I could hold my own. It was one thing to be strong—it was another to be foolish. My shivering body reminded me just how ridiculous my stubborn streak was. Even though it was completely contradictory to do so, I heavily considered putting up the white flag and asking to retreat to the warmth of the detective’s car.

  Stone looked pained watching me hug myself in an effort to get warm. He threw me a bone, even making it seem like he craved the heat more than me. “Speaking of, you may be fine out here, but I’m going to get in my car. Do you want to join me?”

  It was a nice gesture—one I wasn’t about to turn down.

  Once we were inside the comfort of his car with the heater blasting, my mind was able to focus again.

  “You look like you could hug my heater,” Stone joked.

  “Don’t think I wouldn’t,” I replied.

  We both shared a chuckle. After such a dour morning, a little humor was a welcome relief. Unfortunately, the levity didn’t last long. This was not a social call.

  “Let’s get down to business,” I said.

  “Of course. So, how are you holding up?”

  It would be too easy to get bogged down with small talk. Or worse, going over with him the myriad of emotions I was wrestling with. Besides, with a killer still on the loose, I didn’t want to delay the detective from getting back to the investigation.

  “I could really use some good news. Do you have any for me?” I asked.

  He tensed up, clearly in no hurry to answer that question. While he searched for the right words to reply with, it was already clear what his answer would be. There was a resounding “no” coming my way. The only thing in doubt was what words he’d use to let me down with. Honestly, I didn’t care what variation of “no” he went with. What I cared about was finding out exactly how bad were things were.

  The detective grimaced as he answered. “I wish I did.”

  I didn’t have time for verbal gymnastics. Dancing around the truth only succeeded in wasting both of our time. I cut straight to the heart of the matter.

  “Come clean with me. How far away are you from solving this case?”

  He tried to assure me he still had everything under control. “I told you, I’ll handle this.”

  His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. I did not see confidence as I looked at him. Instead, doubt stared back at me. The worst part was, he didn’t even realize he was doing such a terrible job of hiding it. Even if I weren’t good at reading between the lines, the uncertain look in his eyes would be troubling. Since I was such a good judge of body language, the detective’s demeanor was alarming.

  I made another effort to draw the truth out of him. “How are you handling the case, then?”

  Detective Stone remained disturbingly vague. “I’m still narrowing down suspects.”

  He was talking to me like I was just a grieving girlfriend of the deceased, when he knew I was much more than that. I wasn’t about to accept some standard answer like “I’m working on it.” I abstained from investigating the case at his assurance that he would put the guilty party behind bars.

  The further the conversation went, the more I began to regret staying on the sidelines. It was too late to go back now. The first forty-eight hours had come and gone with no suspect in custody. The detective had nothing but an uphill battle ahead of him. It was only natural that I doubted he was up to the task.

  In a heat of frustration, I raised my voice at the detective. “You don’t have any idea who did this, do you?”

  The detective had been very patient with me up until that point, but the moment I snapped at him, I could see that his grip on his temper was slipping. If I hadn’t been in mourning, he probably would have barked right back at me. Instead, he showed restraint and kept an even keel as he answered.

  “I told you. I’m still narrowing down suspects.”

  After seeing him respond with such a level head, I couldn’t help but feel awful for biting his head off. Sure, I was wrestling with a deep frustration, but that didn’t mean I had a right to take it all out on him. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

  “You’re under a lot of stress.”

  “So are you. Especially since we’re more than forty-eight hours out in this case. We both know what that means.”

  Stone grimaced. It was clear that was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of. While he clearly wanted to put me in my place, he gave a firm but tempered response. “Some things take a little longer than expected.”

  Don’t get me wrong—I appreciated that the whole conversation hadn’t spiraled into a shouting match. He was certainly showing more restraint than I was. That didn’t change the fact that he was brushing me off. Just because I was grieving didn’t mean I was stupid.

  I pleaded with him for the truth. “Adam, this is me you’re talking to. I know a stock answer when I hear one. Now, be honest. You owe me that.”

  The detective hemmed and hawed before finally yielding to my request. “Fine. I’ve hit a snag, but I’m working through it.”

  He tried to say that as reassuringly as possible, but I was on the verge of panic. How could I not be? It was obvious that this case was slipping away from him. He pretended that his desire to keep me away from this case was for my own good, but I was becoming convinced that his actions were for the benefit of his ego.

  Why else wouldn’t he ask me for help even though I could clearly be of assistance? I grew tired of mulling over his motiva
tions in my head and decided to make the decision easy for him. There wouldn’t be any more waiting for him to ask me for help. Instead, I was just going to volunteer it.

  Detective Stone saw a look of determination come to my face. Knowing exactly what that meant, he tried to stop me before I got the words out.

  “Let me work through it.”

  I tried to let him down easy. “I wish I could.”

  The detective could see how deep my resolve was and tried to make one last-ditch effort to stop me from getting into the thick of this. “Please, leave this to me.”

  I’d already reached the point of no return. I only saw one way forward. “Detective, I have left this to you, and look where we are now.”

  He tried to interrupt me, but I was determined to finish my point.

  “Besides, staying on the sidelines hasn’t helped my psyche in the least. If anything, it’s made things worse because I haven’t had anything to keep my mind busy. I’ve sat around stewing about Jake’s murder while feeling sorry for myself. I did things your way, and it didn’t work. It’s time to do things my way.”

  There was an argument at the tip of his tongue, but he choked it down instead of verbalizing it. After being so reluctant to let me work on this case, Stone exhaled and finally came around to my line of thinking.

  “All right.”

  That was the most defeated response I’d ever heard. Resignation was heavy in his voice. He had the tone of a man who’d been completely worn down. While I would have preferred for him to have gone along with this willingly, ultimately, it didn’t matter how I got him to say “yes.”

  I tried to make light of the situation. “Don’t sound too excited.”

  He snickered. “Trust me, I won’t. I’m still not sure about this.”

  “Then why are you going ahead with it?”

  The detective gave the most candid response I’d heard all day. “I’m just tired of arguing with you.”

  Even though it was meant as an insult, I decided to take it another way. “Let’s hope the suspects feel the same way.”

  “Besides, you don’t take no for an answer.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  After all the tension, the detective finally let out a belly laugh.

  As much as he chuckled, I wasn’t joking. The very traits that were annoying in other areas of life were often the most useful during a murder investigation. Things like being as nosy as could be, being stubborn to a fault, and never taking the pressure off.

  After a brief lightening of our moods, Detective Stone turned his focus to the case once again.

  “Where do you want to start?” he asked.

  An answer came to me almost immediately. “I know just the place.”

  Chapter Nine

  Before we began questioning the suspects together, I wanted to make a stop elsewhere first. Actually, allow me to rephrase that last sentence. You’ll have to excuse me. I was already getting so flustered that I was mixing up my wording. I didn’t actually want to stop at Jake’s office. If I had my choice, I’d never set foot in there again. It was more that I felt that in order to best serve the case, a trip to the scene of the crime was necessary.

  I got choked up even thinking that, to most people, Jake’s office would be known as the scene of a horrendous crime, rather than the private-eye firm where he’d done such great work over the years. Walking down the long hallway to Jake’s office was an exercise in sheer will. With each step I took, my feet felt heavier, like I was walking in wet cement.

  That was just the beginning. As I saw the yellow police tape blocking off the front door, I was at a loss for words. One thing I had an abundance of was emotions. I flashed back to the traumatizing memories of the night Jake was killed. I kept thinking of the way I’d found him on the ground with blood pouring out of him. It was a graphically disturbing image—one that I was desperate to shake off.

  The detective pulled me out of my haunted brain fog.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

  Of course I didn’t. What I wanted was to have Jake back. Since that wasn’t about to happen, I knew I had to pull myself together.

  I took a deep breath, composed myself, and then nodded. “I have to.”

  The detective didn’t seem to agree with me, but he kept his reservations to himself.

  He turned his focus back to the case and opened up the door, and we went inside.

  I couldn’t pretend that being back there wasn’t a haunting experience for me. A shiver shot down my spine as I looked around. It felt so eerie being there, knowing what a devilish act had occurred just a few feet away. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. In order to do that, I had to get back to business.

  I was there for one reason only—to see if there was a lead that the detective and his forensics team had missed. The last time I was there, all my focus had been on Jake. I’d paid no attention to the rest of the scene or any clues that might have been left behind by the killer.

  This time, I wanted to focus on everything but Jake. It was a long shot, but part of me hoped I’d find something the cops didn’t. Some lead, some clue—anything that pointed to the identity of the killer. At the same time, I knew the police had given the place a thorough sweep.

  Detective Stone cracked his knuckles as he grew impatient. “What exactly did you expect to find here?”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I was searching for something that he might have missed. That called into question his ability to do his job right. He’d blow his top. Besides, after scouring the entire office, I wasn’t able to find anything that was of use in solving this case.

  I made up a story that wouldn’t bruise his ego. “I just wanted to visualize how it all happened.”

  “Well, are you done visualizing?”

  “Yeah. Although, I do have a few questions for you.”

  “Fire away.”

  Given the circumstances of Jake’s death, that was probably the most unfortunate response the detective could have given. The problem was, he realized it a little too late. When he saw me grimace, an apology was quick to come out of his mouth.

  “I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words,” he said.

  I tried not to belabor the point, not just for the detective’s sake, but my own as well. I had just shaken off the haunting images of Jake’s death. The last thing I wanted to do was revisit them. Besides, there were far more pressing issues at hand.

  I changed the subject. “What clues have you found?”

  Much to my surprise, the detective did not give me much to work with.

  He shook his head. “None to speak of. We still haven’t even recovered the murder weapon.”

  “That’s surprising.”

  Detective Stone groaned. “Tell me about it. All we know right now is that your boyfriend was shot in the chest with a thirty-eight-caliber pistol.”

  “Do any of the suspects own a gun?”

  The detective laughed. “This is Alaska. Who doesn’t own a gun?”

  I sighed. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” I rephrased the question. “Do any of them own thirty-eight calibers?”

  Detective Stone nodded. “They all do.”

  My frustration built. “What are the odds?” I tried a different question. “I suppose you didn’t happen to find any fingerprints, then?”

  He shook his head. “Not even a partial.”

  Instead of getting upset with the striking lack of progress the detective had made, my mind went off in a different direction. “Here’s the thing—a gunshot isn’t exactly quiet. Did someone in the building hear something or spot someone coming out of Jake’s office after the shot was fired?”

  The detective had more bad news for me. “Wouldn’t that have been nice? Unfortunately, it seems like Jake was the only one left in the building at the time. Other than the killer, that is.”

  It was hard not to be discouraged by the various pieces of bad news b
eing stacked on top of each other in such quick succession.

  “Do you have any clues or leads whatsoever?” I said.

  Detective Stone reluctantly shook his head. “Why do you think this case is still unsolved?”

  My frustration finally boiled over. “Well, what do you have?”

  “A suspect list and not much else,” he answered.

  When it came to the identity of the guilty party, a few names came to my mind. As a private eye, Jake made a number of enemies. It came with the territory. His job description was essentially to dig up dirt that people wanted to keep secret. When those secrets were exposed, Jake often found himself with a target on his back.

  The more a person lost, the bigger their ax was to grind. That was why I was so desperate for Jake to get out of that line of work, specifically so something like this wouldn’t happen.

  After what happened, I’d always regret not being more forceful in trying to convince Jake to find another job. Before drowning in my own regret, I fired off the first name that came to mind.

  “Let me guess—Trevor Skelton is on your list.”

  Detective Stone confirmed my suspicion with a nod. That came as no surprise to me.

  The Trevor Skelton case was arguably the biggest case of Jake’s entire investigative career. Paula Skelton, Trevor’s wife at the time, hired Jake because she feared that her husband was cheating on her. After a thorough investigation, Jake was able to procure photographic proof of Trevor’s infidelity. Upon looking over the evidence, Paula proceeded to take Trevor to the cleaners in divorce court.

  The breakup cost Trevor more than his marriage. It cost him his business too. Trevor had spent the better part of two decades building up the biggest car dealership in town. As a condition of the divorce ruling, he had to sell the dealership off and give Paula half of the profits.

  Instead of casting the blame on himself for being unfaithful to his wife, Trevor wrongfully attributed his misfortune to Jake. He viewed Jake as the cause for all his suffering. In the year since then, Trevor’s life was still a mess. The man was a shell of his former self and looked like he’d never truly recover. Was this Trevor’s way of getting revenge?