Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mysteries Books 1-3

by Carolyn L. Dean

  Truman had always been a bit of a puzzle to Amanda, and now some of the pieces were starting to fall into place. She wasn’t certain how he’d gone being from a star student in pharmacology school to a little Oregon beach town selling bikes, but like everyone else, the story of his life, including the disasters, had shaped him. Amanda had a sneaking suspicion she knew who had set up Truman for failure.

  “Was the other guy Anderson Bowles?” Before the words were even out of her mouth, she knew what the answer would be.

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  Her heart pounding in her ears, Amanda had to ask the burning question. “Whatever happened to the girl Anderson was dating?” she asked.

  “Um, he took her out on a couple of dates and then she dropped out of school and moved away somewhere. I don’t really know.” Allen said, as if pulling from a distant memory.

  By the time they chatted some more and Amanda had hung up her phone, she felt sick in the pit of her stomach and headed for the kitchen to make some toast. If what Alan said was right, then Anderson Bowles wasn’t only a date rapist, as if that wasn’t horrible enough, but he was also the man that had ruined Truman’s chances for a career to graduate college and start a good-paying career a pharmacist.

  Vengeance was a classic motive for murder, whether it was to avenge a wrong love or to get back at someone who had done something terrible. Unfortunately, it looked like Truman had both reasons to hate Anderson Bowles.

  Chapter 18

  There was something comforting about the smell of the Ravenwood Tide newspaper office. Maybe it was the years of clean paper and fresh ink, or maybe it was the old leather office chairs that Lisa still used, but whatever it was Amanda always felt welcome when she walked in the door.

  Lisa looked up in surprise, her fingers hovering over the keyboard to her laptop, a cup of cold tea sitting beside her. As usual, Lisa was the only one in the office, running the little local paper completely by herself.

  “Hey, ‘Manda. I didn’t expect to see you here. What’s up?”

  Amanda plopped down into the chair next to Lisa’s desk. “I wanted to go over the full-page ad for the Harvest Festival and thought I’d come down and do it in person.” Just as she was about to continue, Amanda heard a soft mewing sound from under Lisa’s desk. Her eyebrows raised, she looked at her friend, the question unspoken.

  Lisa grimaced, obviously not happy that her secret had been found out. “I have a few guests that I’m taking care of right now,” she said. She reached under her desk, pulling out a basket with a fleece blanket tucked in the bottom. Amanda looked over the edge of the basket. Inside were three wriggling kittens, one black and two with gray stripes, and all so tiny they looked like their eyes had just opened.

  “I thought you were more of a non-pet person,” Amanda said. She was surprised, since she remembered that Lisa had told her she’d never own an animal, that they were too much work and too smelly and that she was happier just being by herself. Amanda picked up one of the little balls of fur, who busily began trying to chew her fingers.

  “Where did you get them?”

  “Um, I’m just fostering them for a while,” Lisa hastily explained. “They were abandoned right outside my house and the weather’s started to get cold. What was I supposed to do, leave them there?” Amanda nodded in apparent sympathy, but inside she was laughing. She’d always known that Lisa’s serious exterior hid a very soft heart.

  “The closest animal shelter wouldn’t take them. They said they were completely full. When they told me that if they didn’t get adopted out they’d have to euthanize them I decided to take care of them myself so-” she shrugged, “I guess I’m a foster mother. Have to feed the little beggars almost constantly.”

  Amanda grinned, even as the kitten was still trying to make hamburger of her pinkie finger. “They’re adorable! What are you going to name them? Are you going to keep any?”

  Lisa scoffed and tucked the basket under her desk. “Me? Keep cats? Can you imagine?”

  Yes, Amanda certainly could imagine. She’d be surprised if every one of those kittens didn’t have a name and its own food dish by the end of the week.

  Back to business. “So, I’m stopping by to make sure you’re happy with the ad copy.”

  Lisa swiveled her laptop around so Amanda could see the advertisement fullscreen. “I think it looks great, but I made some of the font size a bit bigger so it would be bolder. Does this work for you?”

  Amanda said it did, paid Lisa, and got the receipt so she could show the merchant’s association that their money was well-spent.

  “Oh, one last thing. The library’s having a bake sale to raise money for the book fund. What do you want to bring?”

  Lisa swiveled her laptop back around toward herself and scowled. “Bake sale. You ever had anything I’ve cooked? How about I bring some Nutter Butters?”

  Amanda laughed. “You can’t bring Nutter Butters. The flyers all say that the stuff for sale is homemade. I’ve had your Trainwreck Pie. How about bringing that? It was delicious.”

  Lisa looked surprised. “Are you crazy? Trainwreck Pie got that name because it looks like a train wrecked it. It’s butt ugly. I invented it one day because I had a bunch of extra fruit and I had a frozen pie crust in my freezer, left over from a previous roommate. I smashed it all together and stuck it in the oven.”

  Amanda pulled the little kitten off her finger and tucked it back into the basket with its siblings. “Well, I liked it and I didn’t think it was ugly. Looks kind of like a cobbler and besides, it’s probably really healthy with all that fruit. Can I sign you up for that?”

  Lisa sighed in defeat. “Sure. But if people gripe about its appearance I am totally blaming it on you.”

  “Deal.” As Amanda was jotting Lisa’s name down on her list of bakers, she had the feeling her friend was studying her carefully.

  “Amanda?”

  “Uh-huh,” she responded noncommittally as she finished writing Lisa’s name.

  “What’s going on with the investigation?”

  Amanda looked up, surprised. “I can’t really talk about it.”

  “You mean you can’t talk about it with me.”

  Amanda sighed. There it was. “No, I can’t,” she replied gently, hoping she wasn’t going to offend her friend. “I made a promise.”

  “Is this because of the newspaper?”

  “Kind of, but I also promised I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone. I’m not trying to be a jerk about it, honest.”

  Lisa looked at her silently, apparently calculating. Finally, she said, “I understand. A promise is a promise.”

  “Not mad?”

  “No, I’d do the exact same thing. Just let me know when you can tell me more about the investigation, okay? Even if I can’t print everything, I’m dying to know if they’ve focused on a suspect yet, and no one’s coming out publicly with the status of the case, so people have been pretty much kept in the dark.”

  ***

  When Amanda drove by the town square, she saw James jogging past the city hall and he waved in greeting. Watching for other traffic, she pulled up next to him and rolled down her passenger side window.

  “Hey sailor, need a lift?”

  James ducked his head down to peek inside, and grinned at Amanda. “I’d say yes, but I’m afraid I’d sweat all over your lovely new car. What’s up?”

  “I can’t talk to anyone but you or George about all the stuff that’s going on in the investigation and it’s bugging me. I was hoping you’d be up for a cup of coffee so I could just talk over the suspects and what we’ve learned.”

  James smiled, the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes crinkling. “I appreciate you being so careful about that, and I appreciate that you’ve been keeping me informed of anything you’ve learned. How about I catch a quick shower at the police station and I’ll meet you at the Inn, where we won’t be interrupted.” He pushed his damp hair back off his forehead. “I’m sure I can bri
be George to let me use their facilities.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. I’ll see you later.”

  “Give me twenty minutes. Looking forward to it,” James said, and strode back to the sidewalk, then jogged effortlessly toward the police station.

  Finally she’d have a chance to talk to James about the investigation without anyone eavesdropping or worrying that she was betraying any confidences. It would be such a relief to speak freely. She grinned and turned the car toward home. It might even be worth setting out some snacks and putting on makeup.

  Chapter 19

  By the time Amanda had pulled some sandwich-making supplies out the fridge, she heard a knock on the Inn’s front door, and James popped his still-wet head around the doorframe.

  “Okay for me to come in?”

  “Sure. Want some lunch?”

  “Sounds great, I’m starved.” Amanda showed him what she had, and within minutes they were sitting down opposite each other, custom-made sandwiches on their plates.

  “The Liberty’s showing Casablanca on the big screen tonight and I’m going with Lisa and Meg. Want to come? Starts at seven.”

  James looked a bit startled, then apologetic. “I’m really sorry but I can’t. I’ve got a prior commitment.”

  She carefully kept the disappointment off her face, but she remember when she’d invited him and he’d turned her down before. It was becoming obvious that she wasn’t a priority and for some reason, she didn’t like it.

  The conversation needed to switch gears, and James did his best. “So, you said you needed to talk. What’s up?” he asked, and watched as an expression of near-embarrassment flashed across Amanda’s face.

  “You know how hard it is to not be able to talk to your girlfriends about stuff? I’ve been really careful but it isn’t easy, I can tell you.”

  James tried to look serious but his sea-green eyes twinkled. “No, I don’t have any girlfriends so I don’t have that problem.”

  “No girlfriends? That’s really sad,” Amanda teased. “Everyone should have girlfriends.”

  James took a bite of his sandwich and finally came up for air. “Not me. Not for a long time.”

  Amanda could feel a flush of warmth flood her face. “I didn’t mean that type of girlfriends. I meant the other kind.”

  “I know what you meant,” he said, looking at her intently as he took another bite.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Amanda couldn’t change the subject fast enough.

  “So, I figure you’ve got several people that had reasons to want Anderson dead, so they’re probably your list of suspects.”

  “Oh, really, detective?” He smiled at her. “Who do you think’s on my list?”

  “Well, I know Truman’s got to be on there. I told you everything I know about his relationship with Anderson Bowles and how Anderson messed up his love life and his future career plans. I figure that’s got to be serious enough to get him checked out.”

  James’ face was carefully neutral. “Who else?”

  The name hurt to admit, but Amanda said it anyway.

  “Meg.”

  “Why would she be on my list?”

  “She was afraid for her life, and Anderson kept stalking her. Self-defense is a strong reason but –“ Amanda took a deep breath, “-I just know she couldn’t do something like that. No way.”

  James seemed to ignore her last comments. “Who else?”

  “Owen Winters.”

  At that name, James’ eyebrows went up. “Owen? Because he borrowed a gun?” He shook his head. “Not likely. You’d be shocked at how many people around here own guns, and I can’t see that old guy killing someone with heart medicine.”

  Amanda was surprised. “Does he take heart medicine?” she asked and James shrugged. “I have no idea, but he’s not a suspect at this time. Okay, let’s move along. Who else?”

  “Loomis.”

  James nodded, obviously in agreement. “Yes. You’d make a good detective. Who else?”

  Amanda thought about it but couldn’t come up with any other names. James waited patiently until she finally threw her hands up in defeat, then started explaining some people she hadn’t mentioned.

  He ticked them off on his fingers. “If he’s a date rapist, anyone who’s been hurt by him or who loves someone who’s been hurt by him. If he’s a liar and a bully, like he supposedly was to Truman, then anyone else he’s done something like that to.” He set his hand down on the marble countertop. “Not all suspects are easily visible, Amanda. We need to keep digging.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “I really appreciate you keeping me in the loop, James. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I just hope no one gets hurt before we, I mean you, find out who the killer is.”

  Chapter 20

  The text was short and to the point.

  Loomis spotted in Likely. On my way to apprehend. Will keep you informed. Stay put.

  Amanda’s adrenaline kicked in the moment she saw the name Loomis on the screen of her phone. After he had attacked her at Jennifer’s house the police had told her that Loomis had probably skipped town, but if James said he had been spotted, it meant that he was only about seven miles east of Ravenwood Cove, up in the hills in a tough little wide spot in the road called Likely, Oregon.

  Lisa had once told Amanda that if something bad was going to happen, it was “likely going to happen at Likely.” The town, if you could call it that, was full of leaning shacks and tarp-covered mobile homes, with front yards full of litter and abandoned cars. When the forest industry had died, anyone who could afford to leave Likely had. Those who remained were willing to tough out a harsh existence where alcohol-fueled arguments sometimes led to violence and illegal enterprises were often a family’s sole source of income. The children of Likely rode a bus to school in Ravenwood Cove, where well-meaning teachers and a handful of parents did their best to make sure they had the school supplies and warm clothes that they needed.

  Amanda had followed her friends’ advice and didn’t go there, but today she needed to stop by Roy Greeley’s house to pick up the new bench that he had made for her to go under the grape arbor and to drop off some eggs and two bushels of blush-ripe apples. Roy’s house was just a couple of miles out of Ravenwood Cove, near the freshwater lake and on the single road that led to Likely, and she hadn’t gotten James’ text until she’d been at Roy’s for almost half an hour.

  They were out in the front yard discussing designs for a new swing that Roy said he was going to make for the Inn’s front porch when they first heard it. Whatever it was, it was loud and fast and had a lot of sirens involved, and it was heading straight at them at great speed.

  They could hear several cars speeding away from Likely and toward the lake, and Amanda instantly thought about James’ text.

  “Roy, we need to take cover! I think that’s the cops chasing the murder suspect who attacked me!”

  The older man’s eyes widened in alarm and he grabbed Amanda’s wrist, nearly dragging her down the stairs to his root cellar. “Dirt’s just about the best protection from just about anything, including guns,” he explained as he followed her inside and then flipped open a wooden window cover, letting in a small slice of daylight. “We’ll be safe here and if they go by we’ll be able to see them go.” Amanda pulled up a sturdy wooden box and stood on it so she could see out the window, too.

  “Dug this cellar years ago so I could keep our garden veggies through the winter. Didn’t figure that I’d be keeping myself in here during a car chase,” he said. Amanda saw him fiddling with a small metal case he’d taken from the shelves nearby. To her surprise, he pulled out a good-sized pistol, checked the chamber, and set it on the window sill.

  “Does everyone in this town have guns?”

  Her contractor looked at her, surprised. “I keep it for scaring the bears away. You ever come around the end of a row of blueberry bushes and met face to face with a mama bear?” He snorted. “If
you did, you’d feel a lot better if you had one of these.”

  Even with the cellar door shut they could hear the high whine of police sirens coming closer and closer. At the top of the hill, a black sedan burst out of the forest, streaking toward town and followed by three police cars and one very familiar unmarked detective’s car. Amanda’s heart caught in her throat as she realized that James was definitely in pursuit of Loomis. Just before the chase was in front of Roy’s house there were several staccato gunshots from the front car, a single arm on the driver’s side pointing a gun back toward the police and firing wildly. They slowed to give him more space but firing the gun while driving at such breakneck speed was apparently more difficult than the driver had imagined, and the sedan began to fishtail on the slick road.

  There was the sound of screaming brakes and skidding tires but the car’s spin couldn’t be controlled and it sped off the road. Crashing through a thick undergrowth of bushes by the lake, it finally plunged down an embankment into the dark water.

  Amanda clasped her hand over her mouth in horror as the car disappeared under the icy water. The lake was known for having a deep bottom that dropped off so quickly that no beaches or wading was allowed from the shore, and the car was almost certainly in at least thirty feet of water.

  The cops chasing Loomis slowed and stopped nearly in front of Roy’s house, cars spreading out on either side of the road as the officers parked and then ran toward the edge of the lake. Amanda could see James, talking quickly on his radio and then striding toward the dark water. Hands on his hips, he looked down on the calm surface. Whatever had gone under the water had stayed under there, and Loomis was nowhere to be seen.

  After a few minutes, Roy had Amanda step down off her box and he shut the wooden window cover. “I think it’s safe for us to go out now,” he said, stashing away the pistol after making sure it was safe. “We just need to stay out of the cops’ way and we should be fine.”