Flames, Frames, & Murder

by Jenna St James

  “How’re we getting in?” Bridget asked. “I’m sure the police have it locked up and barricaded with crime scene tape.”

  I glanced quickly at Gramps before holding up the set of keys I’d snagged out of Sophia’s purse. “I may have grabbed these before leaving.”

  Heidi burst out laughing. “Nice job!”

  Gramps just shook his head. “Something tells me you’re gonna need bail money before the day is over.”

  Chapter 7

  “He’s here.” I drove up Sophia’s driveway, surprised to see a truck with Davidson Landscaping on the side. “I really didn’t think he’d show his face.”

  “You mean you didn’t think he’d show his face if he was guilty,” Heidi said.

  “Maybe he’s playing it cool,” Bridget said. “Act like he doesn’t know what’s going on.”

  “It’s possible.” I glanced over at the front porch with the yellow crime scene tape. There was no way he could have missed that.

  We got out of the Jeep and walked to the backyard. A muscular man was banging a sharp, pointy metal stake through a black tarp and into the ground. When he heard us, he looked up and squinted into the sun. He was around mid-forties, short brown hair with a receding hairline, and a face weathered from the sun.

  “Can I help you?” He stood and wiped sweat off his forehead.

  “We’re looking for Sophia,” I said.

  “Oh, well, I’m not sure where Sophia is. I’ve knocked twice on the back door here, but I guess she’s still in bed.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Is that right? Then how do you explain the tape over the front porch?”

  Wyatt frowned. “What tape?”

  Heidi snorted. “Are you telling us you didn’t notice the yellow crime scene tape when you drove up this morning?”

  “No.” Wyatt shoved his hands in his front pockets and looked at the back door. “I was on the phone with another client, and I didn’t pay attention. What’s going on? Is Sophia okay?” He paused. “Wait. Did you say crime scene? Like Sophia has been killed?”

  I had to give him props. If he was faking it, he was doing an excellent job. He honestly looked and sounded shocked.

  “She’s not dead,” I said. “But she was shot two times. Once in the chest-shoulder area and once in the leg.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible. Why? Who would do that?”

  “We were hoping you might be able to tell us that,” Heidi said.

  “Me?”

  I stuck out my hand. “My name’s Jaycee, and these are my friends Heidi and Bridget. We’re good friends with Sophia.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Wyatt said. “Even though it’s under horrible circumstances.”

  “According to Sophia you’ve been working here for a week now,” Bridget said. “Have you seen anyone around who would want to harm her?”

  Wyatt’s eyes widened. “Well, maybe.” He looked at the plants on the ground and then back at us. “Maybe I should go see Sophia. Then go talk with the police.”

  “You won’t be able to see Sophia,” I said. “My boyfriend is the detective in charge of this case, and he’s already told me no one is getting in to see Sophia.”

  “Who shot her?” he asked.

  “We were hoping you’d tell us,” I said.

  Bridget snorted. “Yeah. What part of she was shot twice didn’t you understand. Sophia isn’t talking to anyone.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m just so shocked. I’m not thinking straight.”

  “So have you?” I asked. “Ya know, seen anyone around who might want to harm Sophia?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Well, I don’t want to talk out of turn and get anyone in trouble…”

  “Shot,” I said. “Twice.”

  “Right. Right.” Wyatt blew out a breath and nodded. “Yes, there was one particular guy who came out here the other day. I had to escort him off the property. He was very angry with Sophia.”

  “Who was it?” I asked. “Did you catch his name?”

  Wyatt frowned and looked up toward the sky. “I don’t know. Kevin. Keith. Carl. Yeah, I think his first name was Carl. I don’t remember the last name.”

  “Can you describe him?” I asked.

  “Scary looking guy. Burly. Like one of those stereotypical biker guys. Long hair, long beard, wore a bandana. Looked like he could do some serious damage to a person if he wanted to.”

  “And yet you took him on?” Heidi asked.

  Wyatt let out a bark of laughter. “I’m not sure I’d say I took him on. When it got almost physical, I did step in and defend Sophia. I asked the guy to leave.” He frowned. “I may have been holding a shovel, so maybe that intimidated him enough to go.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “I need to tell the police about that guy. Does her husband know? I think I remember Sophia saying he’s supposed to be back in town on Sunday. Do the police have any other suspects?”

  “Well,” I said, “Sophia told me this week about some woman who came here making trouble for her and her marriage.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Yes, there was a woman who came out here. I’m not sure how much damage she could physically do to Sophia. She was a petite woman.”

  I scowled. “If she had a gun, she could obviously do a lot of damage.”

  “Of course,” Wyatt said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Yes, there was a woman who came out here.”

  “What was her name?” I asked. “What did she look like?”

  “I don’t remember her name. It could be I didn’t hear it. But she was quite striking. Not the kind of woman you’d forget once you met her.”

  “So what’s this homewrecker look like then?” Heidi demanded.

  Wyatt cleared his throat. “Petite. Long white-blonde hair, blue eyes. Oh, and she had a beauty mark right next to her lip.”

  “But you didn’t catch her name?” I prompted.

  “I’m sorry, no.”

  “Have you ever been inside the house, Wyatt?” I asked.

  He blinked in surprise. “Yes, I guess so. Sometimes it’s to go over plans, other times to use the restroom.” He shrugged. “Just normal stuff.”

  I looked around the partially-landscaped backyard. “I’m sure Victor will have you continue with the landscaping, but maybe you should hold off today. I just came by to let you know about Sophia since I figured you didn’t know yet.”

  Unless you were the one who shot her.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “I suppose I should just load my tools and go.”

  “Sophia said you lived in Marin county,” I said. “Are you driving back and forth every day?”

  He shook his head. “No. I brought up my fifth-wheel trailer and have it out at the RV park near the Russian River. I was lucky enough to rent a space for two weeks with the option of an additional week if I thought I needed it.”

  “I’ve camped there before,” Bridget said. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “It’s nice,” Wyatt agreed.

  “Do you have any family members affected by the fire in Santa Rosa?” I asked.

  Wyatt shook his head. “I have a sister, but she’s not near the fires.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Real quick, where were you last night around seven-thirty?”

  Wyatt scowled. “You don’t think I hurt Mrs. Brockman, do you?”

  “No,” I said. “But I’m sure the detective in charge will ask you that question, so you’ll need an alibi.”

  “I don’t really have one,” he admitted. “I left here around five-thirty, then grabbed a bite to eat in town. I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things, sat in some parking lot and made a couple phone calls to potential clients—which I have to do in town because I don’t get reception out at the RV park—and then I drove home. I think I was at my trailer around eight-thirty. Is that good enough?”

  “Probably,” I said.

  There was an awkward silence before Wyatt clapped his hands together and st
arted picking up tools and materials to load in the back of his truck. The three of us picked up something to make it look like we were helping and not dragging our feet so we could all leave at the same time. I didn’t want Wyatt out here alone with access to the Brockman house, but I also couldn’t stay longer without drawing attention. We’d have to come back later.

  “I think the tarp will be okay out here,” Wyatt said. “I got most of it staked down. I’ll put the plants against the house.”

  Once the tools were loaded, Heidi, Bridget, and I jumped inside the Jeep and pretended to look on our phones and answer messages. Still dragging and wasting time.

  “I wish he’d leave,” I hissed out of the side of my mouth. “We need to get over to Carl’s place. I’m sure Mike is done questioning him.”

  I set my phone in the phone holder and started the Jeep. I was about to back out when Wyatt’s truck darted behind me and headed down the driveway.

  “Heidi,” I said, “will you pull up Carl’s address while Bridget tries to find where Carmen Hollins lives?”

  “Sure thing,” Heidi said.

  Ten minutes later we were parked on the opposite side of the street in front of Carl Baxton’s rundown house. The front yard was filled with dead grass, shrubs, and rocks.

  “He’s not big on landscaping,” Bridget quipped. “Maybe Wyatt needs to stop by.”

  I snorted.

  “So what’s the plan?” Heidi asked.

  “I guess we go up to his door and ask him some questions,” I said.

  “You really think that’s going to work?” Heidi asked.

  “I’m hoping he’s so flustered from Mike’s questions, he’ll unknowingly tell us something he doesn’t mean to.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Bridget said.

  We got out of the Jeep and walked up the broken cement walkway to Carl’s front door. I rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later the door swung open.

  “Whaddya want?” he grumbled.

  “To have a little chat,” I said.

  “Too bad.” He slammed the door in my face.

  “Well now,” I said, “that wasn’t very nice.”

  Heidi and Bridget snorted.

  “Let’s go back to the Jeep and stake out the place for a while.”

  We got back into the Jeep and kept a close eye on Carl’s house. After a few minutes, I could tell Bridget was getting antsy.

  “How long’re we waiting?” she whined.

  Before I could answer, Carl’s garage door lifted and he got into an S-10 pickup plastered with bumper stickers on the bumper and back window.

  “Duck down!” I hissed.

  The three of us slid onto our floorboards. When a few seconds had passed, we popped back up and looked around to see which direction he’d gone.

  “Down there!” Heidi said.

  I put the Jeep in drive and we pulled out after Carl. Making sure to keep a safe distance behind, we continued to follow him out of town.

  “His vehicle obviously wasn’t too damaged if he’s driving it.” I tossed Heidi my cell phone. “Will you text Mike and tell him that Wyatt Davidson is staying out at the RV park by the Russian River if he wants to go talk with him.”

  “Can do.”

  A few seconds later she handed me back the phone, and I shoved it my front jeans pocket.

  “I wonder where he’s going?” Bridget mused. “I hope not too far out of town.”

  He turned on his blinker, and my brow furrowed when I realized where we were headed. “The only thing out here is Lana’s new day spa, Serendipity.”

  Heidi let out a bark of laughter. “You’re right. Is Carl going to get a facial?”

  I chuckled at the thought of the big burly guy sipping champagne with white goop and cucumbers on his face. “How crazy is that?”

  Chapter 8

  Serendipity was located on top of a hill just a few miles outside of the city limits off Old River Road. Lana Price had sold her house to help get Serendipity off the ground, and she now lived in a small cottage behind the spa. As I drove up the long, hilly driveway, I was reminded of the last time I’d been here. Back a couple months ago when Lana and Jax had been accused of killing two people.

  We waited until Carl walked up the cobblestone walkway and went inside before slowly getting out of the Rubicon. We didn’t want to follow immediately behind him in case he saw us and got suspicious.

  Lana was working behind the desk and smiled when we walked in. Looking around to make sure Carl wasn’t in sight, we rushed over to the desk.

  “Lana,” I whispered, “can we ask for a favor?”

  “Of course.”

  I loved the fact she didn’t ask any questions, just said yes. I quickly filled her in on Sophia’s condition and then what had gone on between Carl and Sophia. Lana’s usually friendly face turned thunderous.

  “Mr. Baxton is waiting in our relaxation room before his massage,” Lana said. “What do you need from me?”

  “Some alone time with Carl,” I said. “Is there a way we can sneak into his room before the masseuse gets there?”

  Lana nodded. “Usually I’d never compromise guests, but this is a totally different situation.”

  “You have our word we’ll never mention it to anyone,” I said.

  “And I doubt Carl ever will, either,” Heidi added.

  Lana told us which room he’d be in. “But give me about fifteen minutes to get him shown in to the room. If he’s undressed and lying face-down on the table, you’ll have the upper hand.”

  We nodded our thanks and went to hang out in the salon. There were four women in the chairs getting haircuts, blowouts, and highlights. When our fifteen minutes were up, we went back to the desk.

  “He’s ready,” Lana said. “I told Parma not to enter the room until I tell her to.”

  I gave her a tight smile. “Thanks, Lana. Wish us luck.”

  The three of us ambled down the darkened hallway until we came to the room where Carl was waiting. Putting my finger to my lips, I slowly opened the door and tiptoed inside, Heidi and Bridget following behind me. Bridget softly closed the door and we went to stand around the massage table.

  Carl laid on his stomach, his face cushioned between the cutout pillow of the table, his bare back to us. A sheet covered him from his waist down.

  I nodded to the girls to be ready. We wanted him on his back and secured as quickly as possible.

  “Well, well,” I drawled. “If it isn’t Carl Baxton.”

  On reflex, Carl jerked up and turned to the right, causing his sheet to fall low enough we all screamed and averted our eyes.

  “What the—”

  I pushed hard against his shoulder, while Heidi and Bridget grabbed his torso and legs and flipped him onto his back. The flip was hard enough to cause the breath to leave his body…giving us an edge. Pulling the sheet up over him, Heidi and Bridget draped themselves over Carl, keeping him in place.

  I bent down to glare in his face. “Like I said at your house, we just want to talk.”

  “Get off me!”

  “I’m going to ask you some questions,” I said, “and you’re gonna answer them for me. Understand?”

  “Go to—”

  Heidi and Bridget pushed down harder on him, and he let out a shriek. I slapped my hand over his mouth. No sense ruining everyone else’s appointment.

  “Let’s try this again,” I said. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re gonna answer them for me. Nod your head if you understand.”

  He narrowed his eyes, but nodded once.

  “Good. I’m going to remove my hand, but don’t make me unleash Heidi and Bridget on you.”

  He grunted, and I lifted my hand.

  “Whaddya want?” he demanded.

  “Answers,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Heidi said, still pressed down on Carl’s chest, “answers.”

  “Fine,” he wheezed.

  Heidi let up and Carl scowled at me. “Your boyfriend alre
ady came by to see me.”

  “So he told you about the bandana?” I asked.

  “It ain’t mine,” Carl protested.

  I shrugged. “When the DNA results come back, I guess we’ll know.”

  I saw fear and doubt flash in his eyes.

  “Let’s start simple,” I said. “Where were you last night around seven-thirty?”

  Carl said nothing.

  I nodded once to Heidi. She pressed down on Carl and he grunted.

  “I was home,” he said. “After I left your parking lot, I went straight home.”

  “Convenient,” I said. “I bet no one saw you either, right?”

  Carl smirked. “Nope.”

  “Have you ever been inside the Brockman house?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “Ya know what?” Bridget asked.

  I looked down to where she was holding Carl’s legs so he couldn’t thrash and kick out. “What?”

  She grinned at me. “His leg hairs are brutal. I say we give Carl a wax. Maybe even a full-body wax.”

  “What the—” He tried to sit up, but Heidi held him down.

  I laughed wickedly. “What do you say, Carl? In the mood for a little wax?”

  “Don’t you dare!” he huffed.

  “Then I suggest you answer my question.” I leaned down until I was less than an inch from his face. “Have you ever been inside the Brockman house?”

  “No,” he barked.

  “Wonder how your bandana got inside then?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told that detective. I noticed on Wednesday a bandana was missing from my truck. I didn’t think anything about it because I have a ton of them. Maybe someone took it out and planted it.”

  I laughed. “You’re going with the ‘someone stole it and planted it’ excuse?”

  Heidi grinned. “It’s better than the ‘it’s not mine, I’m just holding it for a friend’ excuse.”