A Salt and Battery

by Liliana Hart

  “I’m not a killer,” she said, the tears streaming down her face. “Why would I leave a bag with the murder weapon in it where anyone could find it? I’m not an idiot. The first thing I would’ve done was get rid of the murder weapon. This makes no sense. I was in jail and I just got back last night. I haven’t seen that bag. I didn’t put it here. Maybe it was the cleaning ladies. Or someone else. I’ve been framed.”

  “Spoken like a true criminal,” Coil said. “We’ve never heard that before.”

  “Maybe we should ask the housekeepers,” Hank said. “Why don’t you have Marguerite and Sheila come in, Deputy James?”

  “Sure thing,” James said and went out into the hallway. When he came back Marguerite and Sheila were with him.

  “Are we in trouble?” Sheila asked.

  “No, ma’am,” Hank said. “We just want to ask you a few questions. Did you clean this suite every day this week?”

  “We did,” Sheila said. “Like clockwork.”

  “How would you describe the room? Was she always here when you cleaned?”

  “She wasn’t here the past two mornings,” she said. “But the other days she let us in herself. And I’m sorry to say the room often looked like this. She’s quite messy. So we had to clean from top to bottom and do it fast because we’re on a schedule. It wasn’t easy.”

  “Did you ever notice these items while you were cleaning?” Hank asked, pointing to the table where Martha’s bag and the other items sat.

  “I recognize the bag,” Marguerite said. “But not the book or…whatever that thing is.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Is that blood?”

  “Could you have missed it while cleaning?” Hank asked. “It was hidden behind this chair and the wall.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, insulted. “When we clean, nothing goes unseen. We clean this place from top to bottom. We fold clothes and straighten items. We’d have seen it if it was here. That bag hasn’t been here the last couple of days. But I did see it here earlier in the week. It’s real pretty. It looks expensive.”

  “It is,” Martha said.

  “I once missed a piece of paper under a chair, and Miss Tabitha almost had us fired,” Sheila said. “We know better than to not be thorough.”

  Agatha thought that seemed weird. How could she possibly keep watch on all the housekeepers to that degree and check up on their work?

  “How does she know what rooms y’all are cleaning?” Agatha asked.

  “Her little computer thing tells her when cards are swiped by each staff member,” Sheila said. “It shows the employee, the day, time, and what room. That way she can spy on us. I mean, supervise us,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Thanks, ladies,” Hank said. “You’ve been a big help.”

  “One more question,” Agatha said. “You said Tabitha was having man trouble. Who was she having trouble with?”

  “The dead guy,” Sheila said. “Marco is the maintenance guy and he said he caught them red handed in the kitchen one day. We figured she’s been acting so crazy the last couple of days because she’s all torn up about it. Love makes people stupid.”

  Hank and Agatha shared a look, and then Hank turned to Coil. “Can we see you a minute in the other room? James, would you mind keeping an eye on Ms. Magee?”

  “You got it,” James said, and took point next to Martha.

  They all went into the kitchen and Coil tossed down the key card he’d been given when he’d come with the warrant.

  “She’s been bird-dogging everyone,” Hank said. “No wonder she’s able to pop up everywhere all the time. She’s known every step we made. And every step of Martha, Rowdy, or any of the others.”

  “You think she killed Rowdy?” Agatha asked. “Why would she do that if she and Rowdy were lovers?”

  “Why do you think?” Hank asked. “Jealousy. As soon as Martha showed up there were too many cooks in the kitchen.”

  “Good one,” Coil said, giving him a knuckle bump.

  “No wonder she was so helpful this morning,” Agatha said. “She figured we’d be arresting Martha and she’d be getting off scot-free.”

  Coil got his phone and started scrolling through the contacts. “I know the owner of this place. He’s a genius when it comes to electronics. He developed that tracking system Tabitha has been using on everyone. We just need to get him to track her steps over the last few days and let’s see if we can put her at the scene of the crime.”

  When they went back to the living room James was still sitting with Martha, and the team had finished processing the scene. There was a fine layer of black fingerprint dust everywhere.

  “Martha,” Agatha said. “Deputy James is going to wait here with you while we go to sort out a few details.”

  “Whatever,” Martha said, her spirit defeated.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Agatha asked.

  “Might as well,” she said.

  “Why did you want my autograph so bad and then toss the book aside?” Agatha asked.

  “I didn’t toss it aside,” Martha said. “I put it on top of my bag behind the table. Someone must have kicked it or something and made it spill out. Then when I went back to get my bag after all the excitement had ended, it was gone.

  Agatha nodded. Tabitha had been manning the table and watching Martha’s stuff while she’d been gone. She’d had the perfect opportunity to get away with murder.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hank handed the key card to Coil before they left Martha’s suite so it could be analyzed. The plan was for Coil to head out toward the golf club, and for Agatha and Hank to look out for Tabitha to see if she was able to follow him on her device. Then they could confront her about Rowdy.

  Tabitha was in the lobby not far from where they’d first greeted her, and Hank and Agatha stood back watching as she checked her device. Tabitha waved at a few guests and then headed around the corner toward the golf course.

  “Gotcha,” Hank said, and he and Agatha followed.

  “Don’t lose her,” Agatha said.

  “Seriously?”

  “We’re going too slow, and she’s getting too far ahead of us. Let’s go!”

  Agatha started running, and Hank blew out an aggravated sigh. He hated cardio. Coil was down on the golf course, and Tabitha slowed when she saw him, confused. Then she looked back toward the resort and saw Agatha barreling toward her. She dropped her computer and took off running into the crowd. Hank lost sight of her, but Agatha was easy to spot as she ran toward her target.

  He and Coil had started running in their direction when people started screaming and they scattered all over the place like bowling pins. Tabitha was driving a golf cart right through the crowd and it was headed straight toward him.

  He jumped out of the way just in the nick of time, and Coil came up behind him to help him to his feet. Agatha was cutting across the green, determined to run Tabitha down. Hank preferred to do it the easy way.

  “Hey kid,” Hank said, whistling to the kid who was handing out the golf carts. “How about a cart?”

  The boy looked shell shocked and he tossed Hank a key with the number thirty-seven on it, pointing to the cart at the end of the row.

  “This is embarrassing,” Coil said, getting in beside Hank. “Let’s never mention this to anyone.”

  “Deal,” Hank said, and then he floored the golf cart and headed onto the green to intercept Agatha.

  He managed to catch up with her on the fourth hole and he yelled, “Need a ride, hot stuff?”

  She never broke her stride, and jumped onto the back of the cart. “Go, go!” she said. “She’s just ahead. She’s a terrible driver.”

  Hank had to admit, it was a lot more fun now that he was in the chase than it was while he stood back watching it. Lower speeds didn’t mean lowered action.

  “Hold on,” Hank said. “As soon as she brakes to go into this turn we’re going to clip the back of her bumper.”

  “Hank,” Agatha said with concern. “She
’s not slowing down.”

  Hank mashed his foot on the brake pedal and the cart began skidding down the slick, dew-covered grass. He fought to keep it in a straight line, otherwise they were going to tumble over.

  Tabitha, whose cart didn’t have the same weight in it and wasn’t as affected by gravity, didn’t look like she saw the curve or the lake as she kept the pedal to the metal.

  In the exact moment that Tabitha tried to make a sharp right turn, her cart flipped over and bounced into the lake. Hank, still trying to slam the brakes on their overweight bobsled, somehow managed to wrestle the wheel into a turn and so they avoided the lake, but Coil and Agatha were tossed out of the cart. He heard the splash, and almost afraid to look, he saw Agatha pop up from the water looking dazed and madder than a wet cat.

  Coil had landed on the green, and Hank stopped to help him up, but Coil waved him on. Hank ran toward the lake in time to see Agatha dragging Tabitha out of the lake by her blazer.

  “Are you okay?” she asked Tabitha.

  Tabitha dropped down on the grass and gasped for air. “I hate this job.”

  “Why’d you do it?” Agatha asked. “Why’d you kill Rowdy?”

  Tabitha curled into a ball and started to weep. “He said he loved me. But when I asked about Martha he told me I was naïve. He called me a stupid child and that men would never be satisfied with just one woman.

  “Then I told him I was pregnant, and when he said it wasn’t his and it was my problem, I just snapped,” Tabitha said. “I grabbed the first thing I saw and smacked him in the head with it. I didn’t hit him that hard, and I sure didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to knock some sense into him.”

  Agatha looked at Hank, but he knew there were no winners in this case. It was just tragedy.

  Epilogue

  The private dining room at the resort was even more beautiful than the room they’d reserved for their wedding reception. Agatha wasn’t much on fancy dining, but the owner of the hotel had invited them to a special dinner to celebrate season two of Top Shelf Chef.

  Hank was holding her hand under the table, and he was making small talk to the people sitting beside him. But she knew he was worried about whether or not the district attorney would agree to an involuntary manslaughter charge against Tabitha or go with second-degree murder.

  “It’s going to be okay, Hank,” she whispered, leaning against his side.

  “I know,” he said. “But this DA sometimes likes to make a career case out of things that have the potential for media exposure. Coil and I have had our run-ins with him before.”

  “I put a call in to the DA for a meeting tomorrow,” Coil said, leaning across the table so their heads were together. His wife, Shelly, sat next to him, but she was starstruck by Kimmie Lemon, who’d been seated beside her. “He didn’t seem too sympathetic over the phone, but maybe if we see him face to face we can talk some sense into him.”

  Kristoff dinged his spoon on his wine glass and stood to make a toast. Agatha had felt uncomfortable since the moment they walked in the door. Coil was friends with the owner, and the man had been nothing but nice and generous considering how they’d disrupted his property, but being here with the Hollywood people was a bit like walking into the lion’s den. They didn’t really know how to treat them or talk to them, and most of them flat-out resented their presence. The only person missing was Martha. Kirstoff hadn’t been kidding about getting rid of her.

  Agatha would be glad when they could go home and get into comfortable clothes.

  “You ready?” Hank said, reading her mind.

  Coil sighed. “I wish it was me going home, but I have a feeling Shelly is going to want to stay until she gets to fangirl over every celebrity here.”

  “Tough break, man,” Hank said.

  “Let’s wait until after the toast,” Agatha said. “I don’t want to be rude.”

  Agatha waited patiently while Kristoff droned on about the virtues of their craft, how they were a family and would push forward in Rowdy’s memory because he’d want them to go on, and how law enforcement should be commended for their dedication.

  “Wow, what a load of bull,” Agatha whispered, making Hank elbow her in the ribs lightly.

  They waited until Kristoff sat down and the conversation started again before they scooted their chairs back from the table.

  “Have fun,” Hank told a scowling Coil. “Don’t call me tomorrow. We’re taking a few days off to do wedding stuff.”

  “I’ll let the criminals know so they lay low,” Coil said.

  No one noticed them heading toward the door. Or at least she thought.

  “Oh, Mr. Davidson. Ms. Harley. Wait just a minute please.” It was the resort owner. He didn’t look like a billionaire, but he was. He was tall and lanky, and he wore a cowboy hat and boots with his suit.

  “Mr. Swan,” Hank said, holding out his hand.

  “Call me Robert. Please,” he said. “I hope we’re not running you off. I’d love for you to stay as long as you like.”

  “To be honest,” Hank said, “we’re just flat-out exhausted. It’s been a busy week.”

  “I understand completely,” he said. “It’s rare I stick around events like this myself. I’m not really part of the Hollywood crowd. But my wife likes the show, and she’s having a great time. Let me give you some advice,” he said to Hank. “Happy wife, happy life. That’s the most important thing I’ve learned after twenty-four years of marriage.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Hank said. “I’m a fast learner.”

  “I want to tell you both how much I appreciate all you did in solving this case. The guests weren’t disrupted too much, and you worked your tails off to get it wrapped up quickly.”

  “Thank you so much,” Agatha said. “We’ll be back in a couple of months for our wedding. Your hotel is beautiful. It’s going to be an amazing day for us.”

  “I’d heard that you were doing your reception here,” he said. “The Sam Houston Room, I believe. Let me show you my appreciation by letting you use the room free of charge. Anything you want, from the food to the table settings. It’s all on the house.”

  Agatha’s mouth dropped open. “What? Oh, that’s too much.”

  Robert winked. “I can afford it. Coil is a good friend. And a good friend of Coil’s is a friend of mine. I’m a big fan of your books.”

  Agatha felt her face heat, and she smiled. “It’ll be a beautiful reception. Thank you for your generosity.”

  “Y’all have a safe drive home,” he said. “I guess I’ve got to get back to the party.”

  They started to leave the room again and but someone else called their name.

  “Hey, now, cher,” Gaston said. “You’re not leaving without saying goodbye, are you?”

  “Congratulations on the job,” Hank said, clapping him on the back. “Head chef at the resort.”

  “All because of you two,” Gaston said. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m catering your reception. Your taste buds will be dancing. My gift to you for giving me my life back.”

  “We did what we could to help,” Hank said. “It’s your family recipe. It belongs to you. When the lab tech found it on Rowdy’s computer it was a no-brainer to make sure you got it back. Just make sure that famous gumbo is served at the wedding.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Gaston said. His belly laugh rolled over the voices in the room. “Your guests are going to fall in love with my roux.” He waved and headed back toward the guests.

  “That’s what he thinks,” Hank said. “My sisters could find fault with the pope.”

  Agatha snorted. “Surely they can’t be that bad, Hank. Maybe you’re too hard on them.”

  “They don’t like you,” he said.

  “What?” she asked surprised. “Why not? They’ve never even met me.”

  “Because they don’t like anyone butting into the family. They see you as a threat. They’re protective of me.”

  “I’m protective of you too
,” she said. “Maybe they won’t even come.”

  “Just remember it was your idea,” he said.

  “I’ll remember to take credit when it all turns out fine,” she said. “Now hush up and kiss me.”

  Next Up: Curl Up and Dye

  July 2020

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  Acknowledgments

  Always a very special Thank You to our cover design artist Dar Albert at Wicked Smart Designs. The Best. Editor. Ever. Imogen Howson, we appreciate dearly.

  Also by Liliana Hart & Louis Scott

  Books by Liliana Hart and Louis Scott

  The Harley and Davidson Mystery Series

  The Farmer’s Slaughter