“The Admiral’s here. You said I should get you when he came in.” Brittany’s frown deepens. “Dylan asked me to tell him if I observed any strange behavior. You talking to the crazy guy on purpose and spending all morning playing with these books qualifies.” She lifts her cell and waggles it. “Spill or you’re busted.”
“Go ahead.” I dust off my hands and then climb down from the stepstool I’m on. “Call him if you’d like.” Dylan just called, and when I filled him in about the golf ball, said he’d be over soon anyway.
“Nah.” Brittany tucks her phone away. “Then he’d just come over here, and the two of you will do your weird we-don’t-like-each-other-but-really-we-do dance. It’ll make me lose my appetite. And it’s lunchtime.”
I suppress the urge to engage about my feelings for Dylan. “I packed turkey sandwiches for us today. Why don’t you grab one and take it to the park?” Brittany never eats lunch unless I bring it for her. I don’t like to see her go hungry.
She crosses her arms. “Oh, so now you’re trying to get rid of me while you talk to Admiral Crazy?”
“Yep. You could report me to Dylan while you eat. Now scram, please. And take Cooper with you.”
Brittany lets out a long sigh but heads to the fridge. I hurry out front to talk to Admiral Wright.
He’s sitting in the dining area with a book, some coffee, and a croissant. He’s a regal-looking older gentleman, tall, thin, with chiseled cheekbones. He wears button-down shirts, cardigans, and khakis, along with highly polished leather shoes every day. His bushy white eyebrows hop up when he sees me.
“Hello, Sailor. Before you ask, I need to inform you that I’m a trained former military officer, so no form of torture will make me crack. It’s why your mom chose me to be the keeper of your fate.”
Brittany stops eating her sandwich midbite and stands beside me. “Keeper of her fate?”
“Out.” I point toward the front door and return my employee’s stare until she grumpily caves and heads outside.
She says, “Come on, Cooper. You need to go out anyway.”
Cooper looks back and forth between us and then decides to join Brittany at the park to do his thing.
That the Admiral almost spilled the beans in front of Brittany, combined with how quickly he told Dylan my mom’s secret, makes me doubt only a few know what I desperately want to discover.
As I sit across from him, I ask, “Ever had your fingernails removed slowly, one by one? I know a guy.”
The Admiral laughs. “Nice try.” He takes a bite of his croissant and then says, “I apologize for telling Dylan the secret. I worried Wilma might have told Chad. And that’s why he’s been spending so much time in the back room during book club. You know it’s rumored that Wilma and Chad have had a little, shall we say, alone time now and again.”
This is new information. “She just told me only the two of you knew.” I’m going to have to ask about her and Chad on Monday morning when I see her again. “How long had Chad been disappearing for long periods of time during book club?”
“Since he joined three or four months ago. At first, I thought it was because he was avoiding the more complex parts of our discussions. Or he had an overwhelming need to swab the deck back there.” He stands and pours himself another cup of coffee even though the one in front of him is full. “Since we haven’t had book club for several weeks, I was curious if Chad would even show up. He never seemed to have time to read our selections. For that matter, neither does Julie. At first, I assumed Wade and Chad were just there to gain Julie’s affections.”
Brittany had said the same. “Does Wade read the books?”
“Yes. He’s been a good addition to the crew. Seems to get the finer points of the story. And the lad understands sea lanes. Very impressive for a landlubber.”
I wish Wade would get busy with the finer points of my woodwork, but that’s another problem I need to solve. “My sister wants me to move to San Francisco and open a restaurant there. If I did that, you’d have to tell me where the things are hidden, correct?”
“Yes.” His erect shoulders slump. “It’d disappoint your mother, though. Greatly. She truly felt that you’d be happiest living here.”
“I know.” Now my shoulders droop too. I don’t want to disappoint my mother. “It’s why I’m staying.”
A big grin lights the Admiral’s wrinkly face. “That’s excellent news.” He stands and holds out a hand for a shake. “I’ll wish you luck, then. I’m late to meet my men.”
“Thank you.” I return the shake and ignore the part about his men. He always says that. “How about a clue or two? I’m running out of savings.”
“Can’t do that. What I can do is offer some advice. There are a lot of old books in the back. Your mom always talked about putting them up for sale online to clear out some space. Said some were probably valuable to the right collector. Then she got sick and wasn’t up for the task.” He takes a pocket watch out of his sweater vest. “High tide soon. Have to ship out.”
“Right. Can’t miss your ship.” Maybe selling the books online was actually a clue my mom left for me via the Admiral. “See you Monday?”
“Assuming I’m back in port by then.”
“Okay. Have a good voyage, Admiral.”
“Good luck, sailor.” He salutes and heads for the door.
I’ll take all the luck I can get.
Not ten seconds after the Admiral is gone, Brittany and Cooper return. She says, “How does he hold your fate in his hands?”
I smile deviously. “It’ll be your fate too now. He gave me some good advice. If I go get my laptop, can you figure out how we can sell some of those old books in the back online?”
“Yeah.” Brittany shrugs. “But unless we can get more than a buck or two for them, the shipping costs will be too much.”
“My mom told the Admiral some of the books might be worth something to the right collector. We’ll have to sift through the worthless ones to find the good ones. I want to get started right away.”
“Sorry I asked,” Brittany grumbles as she moves behind the counter. “We’ve had this scan gun I asked Gage to order for us for a while now, but your mom never wanted to hook it up. I’ll rig this up to your laptop to speed things up.”
“Perfect. I’ll run home for my computer and be right back. Want me to take Cooper or leave him?”
“He can stay and keep me company.” Brittany squats down and pets my dog. When Cooper lays his face in her lap, Brittany’s face lights with one of her rare smiles. “He really grows on you, doesn’t he?”
“Yep. Thanks for watching him. Be right back.” I head for the door, and just as I reach to open it, in comes Dylan wearing his uniform. “I wasn’t sure you work Saturdays too, Sheriff.”
Dylan glances Brittany’s way and then takes my arm and leads me outside. After the door swings shut behind us, he says, “I’m working every day until I solve Chad’s murder. Do you have the golf ball?”
I grab the ball wrapped in tissue from my purse. “Cooper drooled on it before I took it from him and noticed the writing. Probably too late to lift a print.”
Dylan frowns at the letters. “I’ll write up a report so you can file an insurance claim. Any idea who’d want you gone?”
“My uncle, for one. Maybe Crystal. I had that run-in with her yesterday. Or Joe Kingsley about the matchy-matchy window-lettering thing.”
“Okay. Let me see what we can do with this. In the meantime, be extra aware. And next time when you text, don’t just say call me. Tell me what the trouble is. I would’ve dropped everything.”
“I know, but you’ve got so much else going on, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It bothers me to know you could be in danger!” He runs a hand down his face in frustration. When his temper cools, he says, “I need to ask a favor. Were you heading to lunch?”
“No, I was going home to get something. It can wait. What do you need?”
“I sent lab techs to
your garden to take some samples. Yours was the last house Chad sprayed before he died.”
I set my hands on my hips. “Don’t you need my permission to do that?”
“That’s why I’m here. To ask. I can still call them off. They’re driving in from the city. But I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone about it just yet.”
“Fine. You can do your tests.” I can’t tell Dylan that Madge clued us in about her pesticide theory and the secret is already out. “Wade showed up this morning before I left for work. He might still be there, if that matters to you.”
“Let’s go check. You said you were heading that way anyway, right?”
“Yep.” I start walking up the hill to my house. “Did anyone mention to you that Chad had spent a lot of time in the storeroom ever since he started coming to book club?”
“You’ve finally spoken with the Admiral.” Dylan slows his long stride so I can keep up. “Yes. And I confirmed Chad’s behavior with a few others too, to be sure.”
I shake my head. “It makes no sense to come to book club each week when you haven’t read the book. Unless he was just there because Julie was. I’m sure you know by now they’d been secretly dating. Or was he looking for an excuse to search the back room?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Dylan stops walking and faces me. “And it’s why I need you to be careful, Sawyer. Your mother’s letter said the things she hid were worth a lot of money. Probably enough for someone to have killed for.”
My stomach takes a quick twist. “So you don’t think Chad accidentally poisoned himself with pesticides? And yet you want to test my garden? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“How did you— Why do I bother trying to run an investigation by the book in this town? I have to eliminate all the possibilities.” Dylan starts walking again. “I wish you’d stop playing junior detective and go live with Lance and Megan in the city until I make an arrest. Yet I know you won’t.”
He’s right.
Picking up speed, I catch up with him. “So maybe money is an angle? Have you looked into everyone’s financials?”
Dylan sends me a hard look that tells me I’m about to annoy him for real.
I lift my hands. “I’m just trying to help. Actually, if you looked into my financials, I’d probably go right to the top of your suspect list again. I’m probably the most broke. Except we both know I didn’t know about the hidden things at the time of the murder.” Maybe that’s why Dylan paid for the groceries the other day. Maybe he’s already looked into everyone’s money situation. “Have you eliminated anyone yet?”
“What do you think, Nancy Drew?”
“Since you asked, I’ll tell you. I don’t think Madge or the Admiral could have done it because they were both by the door getting tied up with yarn and nowhere near Chad. After I cut everyone loose, Madge and the Admiral sat at another table, and I joined Julie, Chad, and Wade, who were already eating. So that leaves the mysterious customer and Crystal before Chad sat down to eat, or Julie or Wade could have poisoned Chad during the yarn confusion. But Wade was Chad’s best friend. And Julie was dating Chad, so those two suspects don’t make sense. At least not on the surface.”
“Thank you for sharing.” Dylan wraps his arm around my shoulder as we pass by Wade’s truck in my driveway. “Want me to help you search the house tonight after your pal leaves?”
“That’s it? No ‘I agree,’ or ‘you’re wrong because of this or that’? And he’s not my pal. Not the way you mean it.”
Dylan turns the knob on my front door and frowns at me because it’s unlocked again.
I quickly say, “Wade probably didn’t lock it because I don’t have a key yet. I got new locks this morning.”
Dylan mumbles, “Keep it up, and I’m going to lock you up at the station for safekeeping.”
Ignoring him, I follow Dylan inside and then close the door behind us. A loud bang from the kitchen makes Dylan dash down the hall with me right on his heels.
Dylan pokes the swinging door open with his left hand as his right reaches for his gun. Wade is inside, crouching in front of the pantry and sweeping up the pieces of an old Pyrex bowl I keep on the very top shelf. Something yellow is sticking out of Wade’s back pocket that looks vaguely familiar.
He looks up and cringes. “Hey, guys. Sorry about your bowl, Sawyer.”
Dylan’s gun hand relaxes, and he steps aside to let me go inside first. I ask, “What were you doing in the pantry?”
Wade throws the last of the pieces away. “I was looking for something old to mix a little touch-up paint in. I’ll replace it.”
“No. That’s okay. I never use it anyway. You guys want the last of the blueberry crumble?” I head to the counter and find the dirty pan in the sink. “Oh, too late.”
Wade smiles. “It was amazing, Sawyer.” Then he turns to Dylan. “Are your people coming over to test the garden?”
Dylan nods. “Should be here in a few minutes. Any pot roast left from last night?”
“Time out! What do you know about my garden, Wade? And yes, help yourself, Dylan.”
Wade jams his hands into his baggy jeans’ front pockets. “When Dylan caught up with us at Skippy’s last night, Crystal told him what she and Chad had been arguing about.”
“Which was?”
Wade holds up both hands. “Just so you know, I didn’t know exactly what Chad had been spraying on people’s gardens. He only told me it was something he shouldn’t be using, and that Crystal knew and wasn’t happy about it. Crystal told us last night that when they were in Mexico last, she caught him buying it. And that she had threatened to tell Dylan if he didn’t stop using it.”
This makes no sense. “Chad told my mother he used environmentally safe all-natural sprays. Why would he use something he shouldn’t?”
Dylan finds the pot roast and potatoes and dishes himself up a plate. “Because his father had been using it since the sixties. It got amazing results killing pests and made their gardening company the most popular in the area, but it’s been banned in the US for many years.”
I better keep Cooper out of the flower beds for sure now. “What is it?”
Dylan’s face grows hard. “DDT.”
I quickly google DDT on my phone and read all about the deadly pesticide that was banned in the US because it causes cancer.
Cancer? Did gardening kill my mother?
My knees grow weak, so I sit at the nook.
Chad and his father lied to my mother. Told her they were using environmentally safe sprays. Chad’s father had been taking care of my mother’s gardens since I was a kid. After he died, Chad took over. For the last thirty-five years, they’d been putting my mother and my family at risk. And how many others in the area?
My hands fist into tight balls, I’m so outraged. If Chad weren’t already dead, I’d strangle him for exposing innocent people to something so lethal.
Through gritted teeth, I say, “Maybe someone else figured this out and decided to kill Chad with his own poison?”
Dylan nods. “Maybe.”
Chapter 7
While Dylan and the lab guys are busy with my gardens, this is my chance to do a little golf ball sleuthing. I hop into my mom’s old Honda and head out to the new golf course at the edge of town. Armed with my phone’s photo, I pull up in front of the clubhouse and jump out.
Along with my uncle’s new housing development south of town for the millennials who work in the city, he built a new clubhouse, restaurant, pool, tennis courts, and community center. Though this makes my uncle my first choice for the window-breaking crime, how often is the obvious person really the one whodunnit?
The pungent smell of chlorine smacks me in the face as I search for the pro shop. A big sign points me in the right direction.
The guy who runs the shop is a local guy I went to school with. “Hi, John.”
He looks up from the golf magazine he’s leaning on the counter reading. He pushes up his thick glasses and says, “He
y, Sawyer. How you been?” He swipes his longish black hair away from his eyes and stands up.
“Okay. But I have a question for you. Do many use this type of ball?” I pull up the picture of the ball’s logo on my phone.
John smiles and points to a huge display of golf balls in cardboard boxes. “Everyone uses this brand. It’s what we sell the most of around here. This one is the top-of-the-line model.”
So, someone who plays a lot maybe. “Does my uncle use this brand?”
John’s eyebrows scrunch as he considers. “No, actually, he buys special ones the pros use. He might use this type for the range.”
Huh. “Does Joe Kingsley golf much?”
John shakes his head. “Maybe once a year? Why?”
I should have had that answer ready. My mind races for an explanation. “Some vandalism in town. No big deal.”
“Oh. I see. You think Joe’s kids did something?”
No, but that works.
“I don’t want to point any fingers.” I put my phone away. “Did you hear about Chad?”
“Yeah.” John’s eyes grow wide. “So weird, right? Wait. Does this have to do with Chad? Because he and Wade always bought new balls here before they played. And Chad had been teaching Julie how to play recently too.”
Oh boy. Now we’re getting somewhere. “How about Crystal? Does she play?”
“No. Not that I know of.”
“Okay, thanks. I appreciate the information. Have a good day!” I plaster on a big smile.
“You too, Sawyer. Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” I head out to the parking lot, digesting what I’ve just learned. Wade and Julie both play golf. Joe does too occasionally. Joe is a major kiss butt to my uncle, so maybe my uncle put Joe up to it? Or, maybe my mystery customer plays golf too.
One thing’s for sure. Better cameras at my store would be a good idea going forward.
After I get home, I park the Honda in the garage. Dylan and the lab guys are gone, so I grab my laptop, wave to Wade and then walk down the hill to my store.
Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1) Page 7