Hope Hadley Eight Book Cozy Mystery Set Page 16

  I could have darted after her, but I knew it would be an uphill battle to get any further information out of her. Besides, there was somewhere else I needed to get to as soon as humanly possible.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  There was a good chance trouble would be waiting for me when I returned to Eric Peterson’s place. While the situation was far from ideal, it didn’t stop me from going. No matter how daunting the odds or hostile the environment, I wasn’t going to back down. As it was, I raced to get over to his house as quickly as possible to limit the damage done.

  I put the pedal to the metal, counting down the stop signs until I reached his house. Luckily, he lived a short distance away. When I arrived back at his place, his car was still in the driveway, which thankfully meant that he hadn’t decided to skip town.

  Not only did I know he was home, but I could see him peeking through the blinds in his living room. I was right about one thing. Becky had definitely called him. That, or he’d decided to recently take up bird watching.

  I approached the door cautiously with my defenses up. It turned out I had good reason to. I barely managed to get a knock in before Eric swung the front door open and proceeded to chew me out. It was clear he’d spent his time stewing in anger. That probably wasn’t the best use of those minutes, but I wasn’t about to tell him that, seeing as I might be able to work it to my advantage.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to my girlfriend like that. How dare you,” he said.

  I knew better than to yell back, to let his anger push me into a fit of my own. Just because keeping my cool was the best course of action didn’t mean I could resist getting swept up in the fury of the moment. Despite my best efforts, I responded to the fire in his voice with a fire of my own.

  “No. How dare you? Your girlfriend no doubt told you why I was coming. As a murder suspect, do you really want to take that tone with me?”

  I immediately regretted losing my temper so quickly.

  My response didn’t calm him down in the least. If anything, he became more unruly. “Let me make something crystal clear to you. No one talks to my girlfriend like that. Do you hear me?”

  I responded firmly, but without the hysteria this time. “All bets are off when it comes to finding out the truth.”

  He glared at me, clearly trying to intimidate me. When he realized that he had failed in doing so, it only set him off more.

  “You’re crazy. Not to mention you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “If you keep yelling at me, you’ll soon realize that you’re the one barking up the wrong tree. Trust me, I could turn into your worst nightmare in a hurry.”

  He lashed out again. “I think you’ve done enough already. Becky told me you were spying on us.”

  I shook my head. “No, she’s wrong about that. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time and saw something salacious in the process. It turns out timing really is everything, especially when it comes to murder.”

  With each reply, I felt like I was poking a fire-breathing dragon and praying that I didn’t get burnt.

  Eric came to his girlfriend’s defense again. “She didn’t do this.”

  I finally figured out a way to turn his loyalty to his girlfriend against him. “It’s clear you care about Becky, so of course you’d defend her. But how could you really know she didn’t kill Mark Butler…unless you did?”

  Eric was defiant, proclaiming his innocence with the most violent-sounding tone possible. “I didn’t kill Mark either.”

  After my initial lapse in temper, I got my mood under control at a crucial juncture. I was back on an even keel and focused on uncovering the truth. “Do you have an alibi?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to elaborate.

  I fired a follow-up question at him. “Where were you last night between eleven and midnight?”

  “I was working late at my shop.”

  Seriously? That was the story he was going with?

  I called him out. “Nice try. I happen to know you’re lying, though. Your employee told me you’ve had the last couple days off.”

  His eyes got as wide as saucers. He stammered as he tried to explain himself. “Right. I’m sorry, it was a few nights ago that I stayed late.”

  The gears spun in his head as he tried to formulate a new story. I wanted to stop him before he came up with something.

  “So, again, where were you last night?”

  “I was, uh, here.”

  I left out some bait and waited to see if he’d take it. “Alone, or with Becky?”

  “I was alone.”

  I went after him again. “If you were here alone, that means you have no one to verify your alibi then?”

  His voice started cracking. I could hear how nervous he was as he answered. “I don’t need anyone to verify it. I just told you I was here.”

  “Yes, and that’s your story, but why should I believe it?”

  “Because it’s the truth,” he snapped.

  “But you just got done lying to me earlier about being at work. Are you saying I should believe you now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish I had a reason to believe you.”

  Seeing the tenacity in my eyes, he tried convincing me of his innocence another way. “Look, I didn’t even have a reason to want Mark dead.”

  I stopped him right there before the ridiculousness verged on completely absurd. “You two were business rivals.”

  “I’d hardly call it a rivalry. My sales were driving him right out of business.”

  “There’s a motive right there. You pushed to the edge, so maybe he decided to push back, and you retaliated.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “That’s not the only motive.”

  He played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Eric, Mark had just fired your girlfriend.”

  He became dismissive. “Becky was just about to quit and come work for me anyway.”

  “We can argue about motive all day, but it doesn’t change the fact that you have an uncorroborated alibi. With no one to verify your story, you can’t prove that you didn’t do this.”

  Eric went from zero to sixty again on a dime. His temper flared up out of control. “I already told you my story.”

  “That’s the thing, with no one to back you up, they are just words of a man who has already lied to me once in this conversation,” I said.

  That was the straw, and he was the camel’s back, broken, bruised, and unwilling to continue any further.

  He shut me down. “That’s it. I have nothing else to say to you.”

  Before I was able to get another word in, he slammed the door in my face, narrowly missing my nose by only a few inches. Despite the mat on the doorstep, I knew I’d worn out my welcome. As it was abundantly clear that I wouldn’t be getting any more information from him, I headed back to my car, utterly frustrated.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  All day long, I had been taking people by surprise. I was so focused on cornering suspects that it never occurred to me all my snooping around could land me in hot water. The number of feathers I’d ruffled were not the kind of thing that went unnoticed.

  I entered my car with my head in the clouds, squarely focused on this case. So much so that when I caught someone approaching my car out the corner of my eye, at first I didn’t notice them. When they knocked on the driver’s side window, I was so shocked that I nearly jumped out of my seat. I grabbed my chest.

  When I looked over, I never thought I’d be so relieved to see my brother there, and not one of the angry suspects I’d questioned. I could only imagine how much danger I’d be in if it was one of the suspects. It was the other side of the coin of living on the edge like I’d been since the investigation began.

  Even though Joe was my brother and not a suspect, he did not have a good look on his face. I recognized that expression. Good times were not ahead. I
’d been dreading this moment. Throughout the whole case, I’d been living dangerously, and it had caught up with me. I knew exactly what was coming. That’s why I tried to head him off.

  “I know what you’re going to say, and—”

  He didn’t wait for me to finish. “Nice look, but Halloween isn’t for a few months.”

  Briefly, I didn’t realize what he was talking about. His reference finally made sense when I remembered that I was wearing my disguise.

  I lobbed a joke his way in an attempt to cut through the tension. “I still have a few months to find a better costume then.”

  Not only did Joe not laugh, but his face was as stiff as ever.

  I tried again. “Look, I’m sorry about—”

  He cut me off a second time. “I don’t want to hear some lame excuse.”

  “How about an explanation?”

  Apparently, he wasn’t interested in that either. “What did I tell you about interfering with this case?”

  “I know, I know.”

  Joe argued with me. “Do you really, though? I warned you to leave this case alone, but you just didn’t listen.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He gave me a stern stare, fully expecting me to change my tune. I didn’t.

  “Do you think I want to be questioning murder suspects? Because there’s a lot of things I’d like to do with my time that don’t involve throwing accusations at potential killers.”

  “Then why don’t you do us both a favor and drop your investigation?”

  “I wish I could.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what’s stopping you. It’s not me, that’s for sure.”

  “It’s for Paige. If you would take her off the suspect list, I’d be happy to drop the case.”

  “If I did that, I wouldn’t be doing my job. You know that.”

  “I understand. Just as I want you to understand that I’m just trying to help out my friend.”

  “There are ways to do that without interfering with an official police investigation.”

  “True, but serving her a cocktail and chocolate ice cream isn’t going to get her off a murder charge.”

  “Hope, I’m a trained, professional detective. You don’t think you can do my job better than I can, do you?”

  “I never said I could.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re acting like it. How would you like it if I did your job for you?”

  “I find abandoned dogs new homes. I’d love it if you did my job for me.”

  He gave me a disapproving reply. “I have no interest in doing your job, and am warning you one more time to stay away from this case.”

  “No problem. Just take Paige off your list of suspects.”

  Joe folded his arms as he raised his eyebrows at me. “You’re not giving in, are you?”

  “It’s not the Hadley way.”

  He sighed. “That’s usually a good thing.”

  “Who says it has to be a bad thing?”

  He furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s use our stubbornness to our advantage by teaming up. You tell me what you’ve learned, and I'll be happy to do the same.”

  Joe had an unexpected and highly disappointing reaction. His reply was a dismissive belly laugh. “You want me to share information about the case with you?”

  I nodded.

  He shook his head. “For the last time, you’re not a real detective just because you played one on TV. Now, I’m warning you for the last time, don’t interfere with my investigation again. Got it?”

  “You want to have it out with me? I am game, but let’s be clear on what this is really about—”

  “The fact that you think you can investigate a murder case just because you once played a sleuth on a TV show.”

  I shook my head. “No. This is about the grudge you’ve been carrying for decades about me leaving town in the first place. Ever since I returned home, you’ve had to bite your tongue to keep from blurting out ‘I told you so.’ I don’t know what you want me to say, that I should have never gone to Hollywood? Guess what? I don’t regret going. My only regret is that my acting career is over.”

  Oddly enough, he didn’t unload on me. Instead, he wrinkled his nose, with concern all over his face. “You think that’s what this is about?”

  Now, I was confused. What else could this be about? I wasn’t following his logic. “If not that, then what?”

  He shook his head, disappointed. “You don’t get it.”

  “Explain it to me then.”

  “This is a real murder. A man is dead. There’s a cold-blooded killer on the loose. Even more, they’ve already murdered one person, so there’s no telling they won’t do it again. This is a hard enough case for me to solve, and I’m a trained professional. But, for you to throw yourself into the fray with such a full head of steam...” He trailed off, having trouble putting his worry into words.

  His body language told me all I needed to know. I’d never known my brother to be the protective type. I guess there really was a first time for everything.

  Joe finally composed himself enough to finish his thought. “Unlike one of those TV scripts of yours, there’s no guarantee this is going to have a Hollywood ending.”

  “What you’re saying is, you’re worried about me.”

  “Of course. You’re my only sister. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. It really means a lot to me to know you care.”

  “So, are you going to stop snooping around and putting yourself in harm’s way?”

  I’d never found myself in such a precarious situation before. Just when my brother and I finally made a breakthrough that was decades overdue, our new bond was already on the verge of breaking. I didn’t want my investigation to drive a wedge between us.

  At the same time, giving up this case could potentially lead to my friend wrongfully spending the rest of her life behind bars. This was a classic rock and a hard place type of situation. The question became, was there a way to have my cake and eat it too?

  I smiled. “My day of snooping around is over.”

  A great sense of relief came to Joe’s face. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him this happy. Unfortunately, I knew that smile would be fleeting when he found out I hadn’t truly dropped the case.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  By the time I got home, I felt like a piñata that had taken one too many whacks at a children’s birthday party. I was running on fumes. Seven o’clock was too early of a bedtime for a five-year-old, much less a middle-aged woman like me, but my body disagreed--vehemently, might I add. My bed was calling, begging me to pay it a visit as soon as possible. The thought of turning in early was making my eyelids heavier, daring me to try and stay awake.

  Deep down, I knew I just needed to recharge. A little bit of food would go a long way, followed by sleep a few hours later.

  The tug of war between slumber and supper became instantly moot when I entered my front door and was greeted by the puppy-dog eyes of my Labrador Retriever, Buster. At fifteen years of age, Buster was a senior dog, but he still had occasional flashes of puppydom in him. He always seemed to be able to muster the energy of youth when it was needed.

  That evening, Buster pulled out all the stops, making it known in no uncertain terms that he’d not received the attention or the food he deserved today, and that the time to make amends for that was immediately. I’d like to be able to pretend like I was in charge of my own house, but when it came to my furry friend, that just wasn’t the case. Buster had me wrapped around his paws.

  It wasn’t just because he was super cute. Although, he was that in spades. The sway he had over my emotions was undeniable. In all my life, I’ve never met someone with such a knack for melting my heart. I’ve had a soft spot for him from the moment I first laid eyes on him at the Hollywood Animal Shelter a decade
and a half before. He was a young pup back then. He’d been abandoned in a moving box in a convenience store parking lot. I brought him home from the shelter on a Wednesday morning and never looked back.

  Buster and I had been through a lot together. He was the only thing remnant I still had from my old Tinseltown life. My acting career had come and gone, as had three boyfriends, but Buster was still by my side, as loyal as ever.

  To this day, every night, he still waited by the door for me to come home as if his life is put on hold when I’m gone and doesn’t resume again until I return. I knew he’d do anything for me, so even in my emotionally ragged state, the least I could do in return was scrounge up some energy to give him some attention.

  “Hi there, boy.”

  He wagged his tail and barked at me, bursting with energy.

  “I know. It’s been a busy day. Not that you care about that.”

  He bounced around even more.

  “I know, I know. You want food and a walk, pronto.”

  I opened up a can of wet dog food, put it down in front of him, and you’d think I’d just given him filet mignon. He was in complete heaven, wolfing it down like the food was in danger of expiring if he didn’t gobble it up in the next thirty seconds.

  Even though this was how he behaved during every meal, as I watched him this time, I took particular note of it this time. After the maze-like day of complications I just had, it was a relief to see something so staggeringly straightforward.

  A smile crept across my face as I watched Buster.

  “A dog’s life is simple, indeed.”

  I normally abhorred zapping food in the microwave. Things always tasted better when cooked on the stove, but I had neither the time nor the energy to cook a full dinner on the oven. With Buster’s food already making the rounds through his digestive tract, his mind turned to the next big item on his itinerary—to beg for a walk.

  I plowed through my microwave meal and obliged, taking Buster to the boardwalk. It was a change of pace for him: new sights, new smells, and new fire hydrants to sniff. I’d like to say I went to the boardwalk for the people watching; one of my favorite pastimes was gazing at the good, bad, and the ugly that humanity had to offer.