Fireside Homicide Cozy Mystery Bundle Page 9

  “And I like my freedom way too much,” Poppy said with finality.

  I shrugged. “Okay, I’ll just do it by myself.”

  We were quiet for a few minutes, munching on our lunch.

  “Besides, that place would be locked up tight. No way you could just climb into a window,” she continued.

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” I said, thinking of Darcy.

  “There are probably alarms everywhere,” Poppy reasoned.

  “I doubt it. Maybe in the Historical Society section.”

  “Are you really going to try this?” Poppy asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “I have to. I have to know who the mayor was meeting the morning of Mr. Nettle’s murder. He cancelled an appointment with Joe for that meeting,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t think Mr. Nettle’s murder has anything at all to do with money. I don’t think it was a paid hit or whatever you call it.”

  “And you have to prove it to yourself?”

  “And Tucker. He’s chasing the money trail and if he keeps that up, the real killer is going to walk free, maybe even kill someone else.” I tried explaining myself, but even to my own ears, it sounded a little far-fetched.

  “And you’re doing all of this on instinct alone?” Poppy asked.

  “Poppy, both of us are pretty good judges of character,” I said. “Adam may have been a rotten son but he didn’t kill his dad or have him killed.”

  “And that leaves us with the Helen thing,” Poppy said.

  “Yeah. The Helen thing. What if she was meeting the mayor at the park?”

  “In a snow storm?”

  “Yes. What if Mr. Nettle found out somehow? Met them there?”

  “And they killed him?” Poppy asked.

  I shrugged. It didn’t even make sense but I was sure it was part of the puzzle. And I felt like I was going around in circles. We finished up our soup and sandwiches in silence.

  Finally, as we were clearing the table, Poppy said, “Okay, I’ll tell Tom that I’m spending the night with you.”

  “So you’re going to help?” I asked.

  There was a reason Poppy was my best friend. She never, ever let me down.

  “Against my better judgement,” Poppy said, a little smile playing across her face. Then she held up her finger. “But if we find all the windows are locked, we give up. I’m not going to really break into the mayor’s office.”

  “Deal,” I said and we shook hands.

  Poppy went down to the diner to help with the late lunch and afternoon crowd. I tried to take a nap and found myself too restless to do so. I tried to watch YouTube videos to learn some fancy cake decorating skill but couldn’t concentrate on that, either.

  Joe called and we talked for a few minutes. He was actually pretty sure Tucker was on the right track and announced that the two of them were working together.

  “I’m pretty good at digging up information,” Joe bragged.

  It looked like, in spite of their different backgrounds, they were making a pretty good investigative team. I didn’t see any point arguing with him. Besides, if my theory proved correct, they were barking up the wrong tree. With any luck, I might solve this murder before they did.

  Finally, I gave up and went down to the diner. Barbara Ellen and Poppy were sitting at the counter talking. The place was empty.

  “What did Gladys make today?” I asked, nodding at their empty bowls.

  “Baked macaroni and cheese,” Poppy said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

  “And lasagna,” Barbara Ellen added, gathering their dishes and heading out to the kitchen.

  I laughed. “When word gets out, we’ll be busy at dinner time.”

  “Probably,” Poppy said, just as the bells jingled over the door and some of the late afternoon VDOT road crew came trickling into the diner.

  “I told you,” I said.

  We did get busy after that. The days were supposed to be getting longer but it sure didn’t feel like it. By six o’clock it was pitch dark outside and Gladys’s macaroni and lasagna were taking a pretty good hit. Adam came into the diner, alone this time, grumbling about how Tucker was looking into his financial affairs.

  “He’s just doing his job,” I assured Adam. “Covering all of the bases.”

  “Maybe once he gets finished snooping around in my bank account and phone records, he’ll go after who really killed my dad,” Adam fumed.

  “I’m sure he will,” I said, and left Adam to wait on another table full of customers.

  All I could think about was that maybe we would find some clue on the mayor’s calendar that would set Tucker on the right track.

  Just after Adam left, Tucker came into the diner. It began to slow down after that until he was just about the only customer left.

  “Saw Adam in the parking lot when I came in,” Tucker said, digging into his baked macaroni with gusto.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty upset with me right now,” Tucker said.

  “Do you blame him?”

  “If he’s innocent, he should be welcoming the fact that I’m turning over every stone to find his dad’s killer,” Tucker said.

  He had a point there.

  “I am broadening my suspect pool however,” Tucker added. “Did you see the new car Helen Taylor is driving around town?”

  “I did.”

  “Tell me an insurance salesman can afford something like that.”

  I watched Tucker slather butter on his third garlic crusted dinner roll and wondered how in the world he didn’t weigh five hundred pounds. I also knew Tucker would think Helen Taylor’s new car something to do with the murder of Mr. Nettle. I kept quiet. No need to argue with him once he’d made up his mind. Besides, he had more experience in investigating murders than I did.

  “You still think I’m wrong about all of this, don’t you?” he asked, that familiar sexy grin spreading across his handsome face.

  “I have my own opinions,” I told him.

  “And you’re keeping them to yourself? That’s a first,” he teased.

  I shrugged.

  “And the fact that you’re not talking scares me just a little bit,” he added.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I feel like a ninja,” Poppy said.

  Dressed head to toe in black, she dropped into a crouch, made some sort of growling sound, chopped the air with the sides of her hands and then kicked out at an invisible enemy. It was her advice that we should dress in the darkest clothes we had to keep from being seen. Part of me wondered if she had some experience in this she wasn’t sharing with me.

  I, on the other hand felt like a Ninja Turtle. I simply stared at my reflection in the mirror and kept my mouth shut. All I could think about was getting into the mayor’s office to find out what was on his calendar.

  Bundling up in coats, hats and gloves, we started down the stairs. Poppy reached the bottom, turned and faced me. “Could you be quieter?” she hissed. “You sound like a herd of buffalo.”

  “We haven’t even left for the mayor’s office. Why do I have to be quiet here?” I asked.

  Poppy shook her head, eased open the back door and looked both ways before stepping out into the cold dark night. She was really getting into this ninja thing.

  Instead of our normal route, we stuck to the snow covered back streets downtown. They were treacherous and we had to hold onto each other to keep from falling. And where there wasn’t ice, snow was practically knee deep. By the time we reached the back of the building where the mayor’s office was located, my face was frozen.

  “I wish we’d worn ski masks,” Poppy whispered, her breath pluming out in front of her, enhanced by the darkness.

  “I don’t own a ski mask,” I assured her, my face so cold it felt like it was going to break.

  Poppy groaned as we hurried across the small parking lot that had only recently been plowed. Unfortunately, that snow was piled against the building.

  “Look how deep the
snow is.”

  Yet another obstacle between me and that calendar. We’d just have to dig some of the snow to get to the window. Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought along a snow shovel so all we had were our hands. Once, closer to the window, I noted something that made me eager to dig even faster.

  “The window isn’t locked,” I told Poppy, filled with new energy.

  “How do you know?” she asked, pausing to look at the window.

  “It’s open about an inch. Look.” I said and pointed.

  “Darcy,” she said. “She leaves this window open to keep the cigarette smoke out of the office.”

  “And that tells us there isn’t an alarm system, at least in this part of the building,” I muttered and began digging again.

  Once we’d made a dent in the snow, we discovered another dilemma. The window was maybe three or four inches above our heads. Short of one of us lifting the other up, there was no way we could get inside.

  “Now, what, Sherlock?” Poppy asked. “If you think I’m lifting you...”

  I shook my head. “Give me a minute. There’s bound to be something around here to stand on.”

  “After we dig it out,” Poppy snapped, walking around in a small circle and clapping her hands together to get warm.

  I walked further down the building, kicking at the snow bank, nearly falling when my foot connected with something solid. A little digging told me it was a big flower pot. In the spring, it would be filled with petunias, in the fall it was filled with colorful mums. At that moment, it was filled with snow. I continued to dig until I could yank it from the frozen concrete and then rolled it toward Poppy.

  “Perfect,” Poppy said, jumping in to help when she realized what I’d found.

  Within minutes, the flower pot was upside down right under the partially open window. All we had to do was stand on it, push the window open wide enough to get inside and climb over the sill.

  And that’s where Poppy was when a shaft of light appeared across the parking lot and the back door to the police station opened. I heard voices, male voices and laughter.

  “The cops,” I hissed.

  There was a soft thunk as Poppy dropped back onto the flower pot, jumped off and flattened herself against the building beside me. I held my breath, my heart pounded in my chest and wished I could disappear.

  “Tucker, man, you need to get some sleep,” one of them called out as their laughter died down.

  Tucker was there, his unmistakable shadow looming in the doorway. “Lots to think about, guys.”

  “Well, we’re on your side,” Andy Sykes said. “We hope you’ll make the right decision.”

  “Hey, maybe you should go talk to Miss Starla about it,” Tommy suggested.

  Hearing my own name startled me.

  “Yeah, I hear you spend a lot of time at the Dixie Cupp,” Andy teased.

  That brought more laughter.

  “A man’s gotta eat,” Tucker said. Car doors slammed and engines roared to life. “Be safe out there,” Tucker shouted and went back inside.

  What was that all about?

  I didn’t have much time to think about that because, at the last moment, I wondered what would happen when their headlights found me and Poppy pinned to the side of the building. I closed my eyes and waited to be spotlighted like a deer. I was already trying to decide what to tell them.

  We were out for a walk, saw the window open and tried to close it?

  Yeah, that would work.

  When I dared to peep through my lashes, I saw that they had backed out and turned the other way, missing us completely.

  “That was scary,” Poppy whispered.

  I let out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She climbed easily onto the upturned flower pot and used both hands to push the window open wider. Darcy evidently used it pretty regularly so it slid up without a sound. And then Poppy disappeared inside. I climbed onto the flower pot when I heard her land on the floor with a thump. Climbing into that window wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done but I made it and landed on my bottom just as Poppy jumped out of the way.

  “Did you bring a flashlight?” she whispered.

  “Uh, no,” I whispered back.

  “Well, we can’t turn on any lights,” she argued. “So how did you think we were going to see that calendar?”

  “I thought you brought the flashlight.”

  “Where would I get a flashlight?”

  We’d moved away from the window while the argument continued and then I had another worry. “What if his office door is locked?”

  Poppy strode through the darkness to the door, turned the knob and pushed it open. “What if it’s not?”

  I followed her inside and stood there for a few moments while my eyes adjusted to this even darker room. Finally, I could see the shadow of his desk and headed that way. At that moment, Tammy Wynette’s voice filled the room. “Stand by your MAN...”

  I cringed. Poppy snatched her cell out of her pocket, dropped it and then dived after it while Tammy continued to wail.

  I felt like it was going to take her forever to end it but, finally, it was quiet. And then I remembered that I did have a flashlight.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, reaching for my own phone.

  “Sorry,” Poppy said.

  I shielded the bright screen with my body, found the flashlight app that came with the phone and turned back toward the desk. Poppy moved between me and the window so, hopefully, no one would see the light.

  The mayor’s desk was probably the cleanest one I’d ever seen in my life. Pens and pencils were stowed neatly in matching cups flanked on one side by a stapler and the other by a tape dispenser. But what caught and held my attention was the gigantic blotter calendar in the middle of the desk, gleaming white in the darkness.

  I moved close, eagerly shining my light on the white paper. It was completely blank and I groaned.

  “What?” Poppy asked.

  “It’s blank,” I said, fighting back disappointment. “Completely blank.”

  “What!” Poppy peered at the empty calendar

  “How could that be?” I moaned looking around the dark room.

  “I guess he just hasn’t had any meetings or appointments yet this year,” Poppy offered.

  “Or he’s keeping them electronically on his phone or something,” I guessed, trying the top drawer of his desk.

  “I doubt that,” Poppy said. “I always thought he was a technophobe.”

  The drawer opened easily and I looked inside. It was as neat as the top of his desk and nearly empty. Then I tried the top right hand drawer and hit pay dirt. A small, at a glance, flip calendar stared back at me.

  “Bingo,” I said, aiming my light in the drawer.

  The page was filled with notes, dates and times. Evidently, Mayor Gillespie was a busy man. Reaching in I slowly flipped the pages backward. All of them were filled with meetings and notes. When I reached the date of Mr. Nettle’s death, I stopped and sucked in my breath.

  “What?” Poppy demanded from where she stood still blocking my light from the window.

  “Oh, my God,” I breathed and touched the page just to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.

  “What?” Poppy hissed insistently.

  “Exactly what I needed to know,” I told her. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Not until you tell me,” Poppy snapped.

  “Well, evidently our mayor had only one meeting the day Mr. Nettle was killed,” I said. At first I wanted to tear the page out and take it with me and then thought better of it. Tucker would need to see it for himself.

  “We already knew that. Remember, he cancelled his meeting with Joe. Who was it?”

  “There’s a large ‘H’ filling up most of the page and a note at the bottom.”

  Now it was Poppy’s turn to gasp.

  “I have to know.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what the note said,” I explained. “
I have to know.”

  “Have to know what?”

  “How should I know?” I said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I called Tucker’s cell before we reached the diner.

  “Tucker Ashe,” he said, answering on the first ring.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said.

  “Hey, me.”

  “Tucker, can you come down to the diner? Poppy and I have made a discovery that is going to break this case wide open,” I told him as we hurried through the darkness.

  “Don’t be so sure,” he said with a chuckle. “Where are you? You sound like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

  “Um, just taking out the trash,” I lied.

  “Well, I made a little discovery myself this afternoon that should tie everything up in a nice little package,” he told me.

  I had my doubts but didn’t argue.

  “See you in a few,” Tucker said and ended the call.

  “I’ll head upstairs and put water on for tea,” Poppy whispered and dashed up the steps.

  I nodded my thanks and stood by the back door shivering. While I waited for Tucker to arrive, my thoughts returned to the conversation we’d overheard while trying to break into the mayor’s office. Sounds like he had some kind of a decision to make? Whether to arrest Adam or not? He wouldn’t have to talk to me about that.

  Before I had time to think about that much longer, a soft double tap on the door startled me.

  “Who is it?” I called out.

  “Starla, it’s me,” Tucker answered, his voice muffled. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  Giggling, I opened the door and he stepped inside, closing it quickly against the cold. Big, handsome, broad shouldered Tucker filled up the little space at the bottom of the stairs, making it difficult for me to breathe. For a split second, I thought he was going to kiss me and realized that was exactly what I wanted.

  So, I did what any woman in my place would do. I turned and ran up the steps. “Poppy’s upstairs making tea. Come on.”

  “Okay, so what’s this all about?” Tucker asked, one big hand wrapped around a purple mug. He had raked the other through his dark hair making it stand up straight.