Flames, Frames, & Murder

by Jenna St James

  Bridget poked her head in between the two front seats. “He sure is a smooth talker. I still say you’re about to get caught up in the old ball and chain routine.”

  Not wanting to process that comment in the middle of a murder investigation, I pulled the Jeep back onto the road and headed to Gone with the Whiskey, but not before making a quick stop to pick up sub sandwiches.

  “There you girls are,” Gramps called out when we walked through the front door. “I was beginning to wonder if maybe you forgot you worked—what the heck happened to you?”

  I’d tried to clean up the best I could with a towel I had in the back of my car. Unfortunately, the slimy egg goo had acted like hair glue, and huge clumps of my hair now stuck together around my scalp. Plus, I had the added bonus of a nice red dye job on my right side.

  “You poor thing,” Mom said.

  Gramps reached under the counter and threw my apron at me. “Before you get distracted and drag your mom and my new bride into your sleuthing, take some orders.”

  I gave him a salute.

  “That’s the most pitiful salute I’ve ever seen,” Gramps grumbled.

  Duke trotted after me as I made the rounds and asked our customers if I could get them anything else. I got a few odd stares, but not as many as I’d expected. It scared me to think it might be because my customers were no longer shocked at my behavior. They almost expected this of me.

  I gave a small wave to Andrew who was cornered by a few fans over by the fiction section. He gave me a grin, shook his head, but kept talking. Once I had new drinks delivered to those in need, I led Duke over to where Mom, Tillie, Heidi, and Bridget were sitting in a cluster of chairs. Heidi tossed me a sub sandwich.

  “Any news about the fire?” I asked, taking a bite of my sub.

  Mom sighed. “It’s not good. Still not under control. So, what have you found out?”

  I quickly filled her in on everything we’d learned. From our talk with Wyatt and his denial of knowing anything, to cornering Carl at Serendipity and making him talk, to what we learned at Carmen’s house, then the sudden appearance of Victor back in town, and finally our run-in with Marco.

  “I take it Victor’s at the hospital?” Mom asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So what’re your thoughts?” Tillie asked. “Who are you looking at for this horrible crime?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, sighed, and leaned back against the cushioned chair. “I think for sure Carmen is involved.”

  “Agreed,” Heidi and Bridget both said.

  “I can’t decide about Carl,” I said. “Either he’s one unlucky son of a gun to have committed the robbery and then was stupid enough to drop evidence, or he’s right and someone is setting him up.”

  Heidi frowned. “What if Carmen and Carl were in on it, but to throw suspicion off each other, Carmen made sure she had a solid alibi while Carl…no, that doesn’t really make sense.”

  “I know where you’re going with that thought,” I said. “And that’s the part that confuses me. Why would either of them make a spectacle of themselves this week like they did? Another person, this Wyatt Davidson, saw both of them come to Sophia’s house and threaten her. Why do that if you were trying to lay low, commit a robbery, and shoot someone?”

  “What about Victor?” Mom asked. “Do you really think he’s involved?”

  I looked at Heidi and frowned. “I can’t be sure. He seemed genuinely surprised and upset when we told him about Sophia, but I’m telling you, Mom, something isn’t right.”

  “Could all three of them be in on it?” Tillie asked.

  Gramps stalked over from behind the counter and handed Mom a notebook and pen. “Might as well write it all down so you can keep track.”

  I hid the grin that wanted to spread across my face. “Thanks, Gramps.”

  Once Mom wrote everything out, we all agreed Carmen and Carl were somehow at the center of it all. What we didn’t know was the connection they had to each other. When had they met and made their elaborate plan to rob and shoot Sophia? We also had to agree that both Marco and Victor might be involved, too.

  I gasped when a thought occurred to me. “Do you remember Marco saying he was at a restaurant meeting a client until seven? Well, do you think it was Carmen? After all, we know for a fact she paints.”

  Heidi frowned. “I don’t think so. Marco said he was there until a little after seven. Carmen said she arrived a little after seven. I don’t see it.”

  I sighed. “You’re right. I just remembered him saying seven and meeting a client and I knew Carmen was eating at a restaurant. I didn’t think it through.”

  “You do realize that most of the townspeople knew Victor would be gone, right?” Gramps asked from his position at the end of the bar. “First off, he goes every year. Secondly, his receptionist would have at least told clients he’d be out of town that week and couldn’t take appointments.”

  I frowned. “So you don’t think he’s a good suspect?”

  “I just don’t see it,” Gramps said.

  “There’s motive,” I argued. “We don’t know his financials, but Sophia’s paintings are worth a lot of money. If she dies, they’ll be worth even more.”

  “But he doesn’t have to steal his own paintings,” Gramps argued.

  “He does if he wants to throw suspicion,” I said.

  Gramps nodded once. “True.”

  “I have a call into the clients Wyatt Davidson did work for,” I said. “I know Sophia liked this guy, and he seems on the up and up when we talked with him, but I still want to check on him and rule him out.”

  “Good idea,” Gramps said.

  “So what’s next?” Mom asked.

  “Jaycee is going to step behind this bar while I sit with my wife,” Gramps joked.

  Laughing, I got up so he could sit in my spot. My cell phone rang, and my pulse sped when Mike’s name came up.

  “Hey Mike,” I said. “Did you finally make it to the hospital?”

  “Yes. I’m waiting for Victor to finish talking to the doctors and end his visit with Sophia before I begin my questioning.”

  “So still no change?” I asked.

  “None.”

  There was an awkward pause, and I instantly knew something was up. Mike only got that way when he knew something he couldn’t tell me.

  “What’s happened?” I asked. “What can’t you tell me?”

  He chuckled dryly. “You obviously know I can’t tell you.”

  “But something has happened since we spoke twenty minutes ago,” I said emphatically. “Is it Carmen?”

  Silence.

  “Carl?” I asked.

  He tsked. “You know I can’t say anythi—”

  “It is Carl,” I said gleefully. I racked my mind thinking what the next logical step in the investigation toward him would be. “You got the DNA results back, didn’t you? It’s a match. That’s his bandana at the crime scene!”

  “I didn’t say that,” Mike said.

  I grinned and did a little jig. “You don’t have to. I’m coming to recognize your tells, Detective Connors.”

  His deep chuckle gave me goosebumps. “Is that so, Ms. Sullivan?”

  Great, now I was well and truly missing my quality time with Mike. Outside of the flirtatious exchanges earlier today, we hadn’t had much alone time lately between planning Gramps’ and Tillie’s wedding, last week’s attempted murder on my life, the bachelorette party, and then Gramps and Tillie leaving on their honeymoon, causing me to put in more hours at the bookstore and bar. I shouldn’t be surprised one throaty chuckle from Mike could put me on edge.

  “Anyway,” Mike said, “I just thought I’d call and let you know there’s been no real change with Sophia.”

  “Uh huh,” I said, back to grinning like an idiot. “Well, Detective Connors, I appreciate the update.” I paused, unsure how to ask the next question. “Will you keep me updated of any new developments when you hear about them?”

&nbs
p; “Why, Ms. Sullivan, what makes you think there are new developments?” I heard the teasing in his question. “How about I promise to let you know what I can when I can. Is that fair enough?”

  I snorted. “Sure.” I lowered my voice. “Thanks for calling, Mike. And I’m sorry about earlier. I miss you. When do you think I can see you?”

  “I’ll try and stop by later tonight before you close,” he said. “I’m not sure when I’m getting off, it just depends on how the next couple hours play out.”

  “I understand.”

  And I did. If Carl was arrested and questioned, it could be hours before Mike would get to come home. Between the nearly twenty-four hours he was up dealing with the Santa Rosa fires and then questioning and tracking down clues regarding Sophia’s shooting, he was bound to be exhausted. I also knew I couldn’t mention Paul Renault’s name without raising questions, but I wondered if I couldn’t steer him in a certain direction.

  “Do you know what happened to the paintings?” I asked. “Have you had time to call local art galleries or pawn shops?”

  I didn’t think for one minute Sophia’s artwork would show up in a pawn shop, but I couldn’t tell Mike that.

  “Landry is looking into that for me,” Mike said. “He’s contacting high-end galleries from Mendocino to Napa to San Francisco, hoping to hear something.”

  “I asked Heidi and Bridget if they knew of anyone in particular that dealt with pricy stolen artwork and they did give me a name.”

  “Really?” Mike asked. “I must be more exhausted than I realized. Of course they’d probably know someone. I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask. What’s the name?”

  I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d never catch on that I stretched the truth a little. “They said there’s a man by the name of Paul Renault who usually deals in this kind of thing.”

  Mike sighed. “Thank you so much, Jaycee. I mean it. That might be just the thing we were needing.”

  I felt my face heat at his praise. “You’re welcome. Glad I could actually be of service instead of a hindrance.”

  “You’re never a hindrance, Jaycee Sullivan.” His voice had dropped low again, and I almost whimpered.

  “I hope I get to see you tonight,” I said.

  “Ditto.”

  Chapter 13

  Gramps, Tillie, Mom, Andrew, and Duke decided to leave around three. There were still tons of wedding gifts Gramps and Tillie needed to open, so to distract from the raging fire and unsolved murder, Mom offered to cook while they opened presents and started the thank you cards.

  Heidi and Bridget stayed until four before heading over to their art gallery around the corner to listen to any messages they might have received. With a promise to see me in the morning, they left without a backward glance.

  We weren’t that busy for a Saturday night. A lot of people were still huddled at home trying to catch updates on the fire. Plus with the smoke and ash in the air, most people were opting to stay inside.

  I’d just cashed out a customer when Jax and Trevor strolled through the door an hour later, bringing the smell of smoke with them.

  “Is it five already?” I asked.

  “Yep.” Jax hopped up onto a barstool. “And I’m exhausted.”

  “How’s the construction on the Declan Manor going?” I asked Trevor.

  “It’s coming along,” he said. “Probably about another two weeks then I’ll be finished.”

  “Have you heard anything about the fires?” Jax asked.

  I sighed. “I assume you’ve heard about the Schulz house?”

  “Yeah,” Jax said glumly. “I can’t believe it. But the museum is still untouched, right?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “What about the latest with Mike?” Jax asked.

  I gasped. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! We went out to Sophia’s house to check on things, and Victor was there!”

  Jax frowned. “Why is that strange? Mike probably got ahold of him and told him to get home fast.”

  I shook my head. “No. He had no idea about Sophia or the robbery. I had to tell him.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jax said. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “but don’t you think it’s odd he came home early without telling Sophia?”

  Jax shrugged. “You said so yourself they were having problems this week. Maybe he just wanted to come home so he could figure out what was going on.”

  I couldn’t tell if she was just being naïve, or if there could actually be something behind that. Maybe Victor really did just want to come home to be with Sophia and it was all a misunderstanding and weird coincidence.

  My phone rang, but I didn’t recognize the number.

  “Get that,” Jax said. “I’ll pour Trevor and me a drink.”

  “Thanks.” I slid my finger across the icon. “This is Jaycee Sullivan.”

  “Hi. My name is Danielle Winters, and I have a message from you regarding the work Wyatt Davidson did for me.”

  “Oh, yes. I was hoping you could give me some information about him. What kind of work did he do? Were you impressed?”

  “Very much so,” Danielle said. “My husband and I were thrilled.”

  “Really?”

  There must have been something in my voice she picked up on. “Yeah. Why? Did he not do a good job for you?”

  I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see. “No, nothing like that. I—I met him at a home improvement store, and he gave me his card and brochure. Before I hired him I wanted to make sure he was who he said he was.”

  “He is. Trust me.” She paused then continued to speak. “I’m glad he’s getting work. You’re the second person to contact me in a couple weeks.”

  “Really?” I figured the other person was Sophia but didn’t let on.

  “Yes. Another woman from…let’s see, where did she say she lived? Oh, yes, Traveler’s Bay. A woman from Traveler’s Bay called a few weeks back to check on his references, too. I told her the same thing. We were very happy with what Wyatt had done. Timely manner and not too expensive.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Winters. I’ll be sure and hire Wyatt after he finishes with the job he’s currently on.”

  “Wonderful,” she gushed. “Happy to help him out. Thanks for calling.”

  I hung up and frowned. If the other two calls came back with the same results, I had to cross Wyatt off my list of suspects. Which once again left me with just Carl, Carmen, Marco, and Victor.

  “Bad news?” Jax asked.

  I told her about the calls I had in to the three people Wyatt had recently done work for.

  “So not bad news,” Jax clarified. “Isn’t that what you are hoping for? To clear his name?”

  “Well, yes. I guess I just wanted them to say he was horrible, and they were robbed during the course of his work for them. Something that pointed to him so I could wrap this up.”

  Jax snorted. “Don’t you mean so Mike can wrap this up?”

  “I’m sure that’s what she meant,” Trevor said and gave me a wink.

  “Shouldn’t you be home baking?” I asked.

  “There was a big enough lull today that I was able to get in the back and do most of my baking. I have your Rum-Fire Delight ready to go tomorrow, along with some boozy cupcakes. Since Gone with the Whiskey doesn’t open until one on Sundays, I’ll have plenty of time to make something else for you if you find you need it.”

  By six, there were only a handful of people left. Usually on the weekends, I had to kick people out at nine, but not tonight.

  “You might as well close and just go home,” Jax suggested.

  I was about to agree with her when the front door opened and Mike walked in. Lifting his hand in a greeting, he headed over to us.

  “Evening,” he said. “Thought I’d stop by and see how it’s going.”

  “I’m trying to convince Jaycee to close down,” Jax said. “There’re only two other people in here besides
us. She should just go home and rest up.”

  “I love the sound of that,” I admitted.

  Mike grinned. “I’m not sure I remember the last time you had a Saturday night off.”

  I snorted. “Try never.”

  “Well,” Mike said, “I’m off the clock, so I’ll take a beer.”

  “I’ll grab you one,” Trevor said. “I’m thinking of having another.”

  Trevor sauntered over to the beer refrigerator we’d recently installed and grabbed two local beers. Sonoma county was known worldwide for their wines, but more and more lately breweries were popping up with great-tasting craft beers.

  Trevor slid a bottle to Mike.

  “Thanks, man.” Mike twisted the cap and took a deep swallow. “I thought you might like to know that you guessed right this afternoon. Carl was arrested and brought into the station.”

  I gasped. “And you didn’t think to lead with that?”

  Mike chuckled. “No, I didn’t. Anyway, he was brought in and after spending some quality time together, he decided to lawyer up. So we’re letting him sit until tomorrow.”

  “Ugh!” I took a glass from under the counter and poured me a ginger ale. “So he didn’t confess or give you any idea as to whether or not he had help?”

  Mike shook his head. “Nope.” He took another swallow then plunked the beer down on the counter. “Funny thing, though.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “He had quite a story to tell about his morning massage.”

  I’d just taken a drink of the ginger ale, and his words caused me to spew the sticky drink all over the counter.

  “Eew!” Jax exclaimed. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I was still coughing when Mike reached over and slapped me on my back. Hard.

  “Ouch,” I whined. “I’m delicate. Like a flower.”

  “Really?” Mike asked. “Because that’s not the image I have of you after hearing Carl’s story.”

  Jax grinned. “What did you do and not tell me about?”

  I sighed. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Mike asked. “You mean you, Heidi, and Bridget didn’t follow him to Serendipity this morning and muscle your way into his room, hold him down, and threaten to give him a body wax if he didn’t tell you everything he knew?”