“Your murder story is a good one, Brenda, but you know I had nothing to do with it. Just where was this person killed?”
“We don’t know that yet. But the body was found stashed in the trap door candy bin on my float. Two young workers who were at the shop late last night described someone of your build leaving there. Did you go back to Wally’s last night?”
“It’s hard to believe what you are accusing me of, Brenda. You wanted me out. I actually went downtown this morning to see your float go by in the parade before I left town. I was going to leave you a note to tell you goodbye and to say what a good job you did on the float, but decided against it. I didn’t think you’d take my compliment seriously after the hard words you said. Now I’m glad I didn’t leave you that note.” His face hardened as he looked at her in anger. “As for me being the killer, you have always had a vivid imagination, which surely explains this ridiculous theory of yours. You may not like it when I tell you the truth, Brenda, but that doesn’t make me a killer.” He slammed the trunk lid down and again headed for the driver’s seat.
Both stopped when they heard the sirens approaching the bed and breakfast. Brenda held her breath. Deep down she knew her father had not stooped to murder. The idea that he wanted her dead was impossible, too. Tim Sheffield was a stubborn old man, but not a murderer. At the same time, she knew the police had to do their jobs.
Chief Bob Ingram stepped from his patrol car and approached Tim. Silver handcuffs dangled at his side though he made no move to use them. Another police car stopped behind the chief’s and two cops stood at his side.
“I need to take you to the police station for questioning, Mr. Sheffield.” Apologetic eyes met Brenda’s.
“I don’t think you’ll need those handcuffs, Chief,” she said quietly.
Her father didn’t look her way and in a calm manner, he went along with the chief. One of the cops put him into the backseat and the two police cruisers started for the police station.
Brenda thought of her mother as she watched the back of her father’s head through the rear window of the cop car. Her mother might have been upset or frantic, but Brenda just felt numb. She got back into her car and headed for the station. She wondered where Nick Bernard was. Did he realize his wife was dead? Did he know how she died? There were more suspects than her father. Johnny and Mike were alone late last night in Wally’s workshop, after all. Johnny admitted to filling the candy bins. How many tourists came and went in the workshop last night?
By this time, Bryce Jones and Mac were taking the elevator to the fourth floor of the historic downtown hotel to find Nick Bernard. They knocked several times on his door. One of the maids came along the hallway pushing her cart of cleaning supplies. Mac showed her his badge and asked her to open the door for him. When they went inside, Nick Bernard turned over in his bed and stared at the men through bleary eyes. He rubbed his face and sat up.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Mr. Bernard, but it’s urgent. We’ll wait in the hallway while you pull yourself together. We’ll need you to come down to the police station.”
Mac chose not to tell the man about his wife’s demise until Nick was fully awake.
“I don’t know what this is all about…give me a few minutes and I’ll be out.” He blinked and turned back into the room, closing the door behind him.
They waited while the shower washed over Nick Bernard and then he finally appeared outside his door. Mac ushered him back into the room with Bryce, where they sat down. He gave Nick the news of his wife’s death.
His demeanor appeared stunned at first. “I can’t believe Rachel is dead. Are you sure it is her?”
“When was the last time you saw your wife, Mr. Bernard?”
“We had a late dinner together last night and she decided to take a walk down on Main Street. She mentioned something about a walk along the beach, too. I don’t really know where she went…I’m sorry, I just can’t believe this…” his face looked blank, as if dazed.
“We’ll finish this downtown.”
When they reached the hotel lobby, Mac asked to see the manager. He left instructions that the room should not be touched until further notice. He called for a policeman to stand outside the room. Then he got into the car with Bryce and Nick.
When Brenda entered the front lobby of the police station, she saw the two detectives walking in with Nick Bernard. She was told by Mac that her father Tim was in the first interrogation room. Nick was placed in the second one.
Tears welled up in Brenda’s eyes. “I don’t want to be in the room while my father is being questioned.”
Detective Bryce Jones assured her she didn’t have to be there and Mac agreed. In the end, she decided to stand at the one-way mirror with Chief Ingram and watch the proceedings.
“Maybe my father was the man who returned to Wally’s late last night,” Brenda ventured to the chief. “We had a terrible argument and he may have decided to walk off his anger. But I can’t believe he is a murderer. Chief, several people told me how much Rachel Bernard and I resembled one another in looks. Do you think I was the target and not her?”
“We don’t know anything at this point, Brenda, but if you think you were the intended victim, we can give you protection until we get to the bottom of things.” She shook her head in the negative. She had no reason to think there were any threats against her life. It just didn’t make any sense. “As for your father, he does fit the description Johnny gave you and Mac. We have reason to think his car was at the crime scene. Whether he did it or not is still to be determined. As you know, everyone is a suspect now and Tim is simply here for questioning, nothing more.”
His soothing voice calmed Brenda. She prepared to listen to the interrogation. She heard her father answer the first question. “I did not go to Wally’s to hide a dead body in the workshop. Does that even make sense? Why would I do that knowing the lights in Wally’s were on? That alone would tell me someone was there. Do you think I would risk dumping a dead body in circumstances like that?”
“Did you return there at all last night?” Bryce asked.
He was quiet for a moment. “I did come back,” he admitted. “But it had nothing to do with a dead body. Brenda and I argued the night before and I was still angry about it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I needed a long walk…I guess I thought if I took another look at her float I could better understand her, and why she is so caught up with her work and this town.” He shook his head, stifling his anger with his lips in a tight line.
Mac considered Tim Sheffield on the chair across from him. He looked like a father who did not understand his daughter, that much Mac knew. But there was something more, too. There was so much more evidence to consider. The final report from the coroner had not even come back yet. Mac surmised the body had been placed in the container the night before but until time of death had been determined, they had to continue to pursue all leads.
“Did you attend the parade?” Bryce asked.
“I went down there. I told Brenda that, didn’t she tell you? I watched from several rows back. The crowd was thick the entire route. She didn’t see me. I left after her float went by. Then I came back to the bed and breakfast to get packed up.” A twinge of hope rushed through Brenda as she considered what she had not been able to truly hear during their tense conversation in the parking lot before Chief Ingram’s arrival. Her father had stayed to see her float. That must mean something.
After more interrogation, Mac learned that Brenda had asked her father to leave and never come back. Brenda cringed at the words. The chief asked her if that was true and she nodded yes. She jerked to attention when she heard Mac ask her father if he knew how much his daughter resembled Rachel Bernard.
“Have you ever met Rachel or Nick Bernard?”
“I have never seen the Bernards. I understand Brenda asked them to leave so I could have lodging there. I believe she sent them to a luxurious hotel around here, so that should have made them happy.”
&n
bsp; The questioning lasted another fifteen minutes. Brenda slipped out of sight when Mac told Tim to hang around town a while longer. They didn’t have the coroner’s full report yet and if he could wait another twenty-four hours it would be helpful. Tim Sheffield knew he was under no obligation to stick around Sweetfern Harbor and told Mac that.
“I’m only asking as a courtesy. You’re not under arrest, but we need your contact information. And if you flee, that’s suspicious. Let’s keep this friendly, alright?”
Tim wrote his cell phone number down and thrust it at the detective as he stood to go. “I had nothing to do with that woman’s murder. This two-bit town needs a real police force.” He stormed out of the police station and slammed the door behind him.
Bryce and Mac exchanged looks. Brenda emerged from her hiding place to join them. “I’m sorry he has a short temper. He may have returned to Wally’s last night but I believe him when he states his reasons for coming back.”
She understood why neither detective commented. They were in the early stages of this case. But it made her nervous.
“We’ll talk with Nick Bernard next,” Bryce said to fill the silence. “We have a plainclothes cop at the hotel so nothing in the room is disturbed. All clothes and other items of interest will remain just as we left them.”
Mac then asked Brenda if she wanted in on Nick’s interrogation. She was ready. A flicker of anxiety swept across Nick’s face when he saw the owner of Sheffield Bed and Breakfast enter with the two detectives.
“I believe you have met Brenda Sheffield. She is here to assist with the case of your wife’s murder,” Mac said. “She was the one who discovered her body on the bed and breakfast float.”
Nick averted his eyes from Brenda, but nodded his head. Bryce caught disdain in the man’s eyes. The interrogation began.
“Did you go to Wally’s workshop where the floats were constructed?” Bryce asked.
“Rachel wanted to take a look at them all. She was interested in details that she said couldn’t be seen as they went down the street.” No signs of distress were evident in the man. Brenda wondered about that. His wife had just been discovered dead and he appeared calm. The man could certainly be in shock. Or could it be something else? “I humored her, and we did go inside the workshop. When I saw Miss Sheffield there, I noticed the uncanny resemblance to my wife and mentioned this to Rachel. She agreed but I don’t think she noticed it as much as I did. Frankly, I was taken aback.” Eyes flickered to the window near the top of the wall.
“I noticed the two of you there and again outside the coffee shop,” Brenda said. “Did you come back later that night to take another look?” She attempted a smile toward the stoic expression across from her. “Many people came in and out, even late in the evening,” she offered.
Brenda could see the remains of a sour expression on Nick Bernard’s face, as if he wondered how the owner of a bed and breakfast had the right to interrogate him, but was too polite to ask. He stared directly at her. “Was that the man you gave our room to that we saw around town, the tall gentleman? We did come back for a few minutes before heading to the hotel. I saw him leaving the workshop but not before he walked around your float eyeing it closely. I noticed he was startled when we came back inside.”
A few seconds of silence hung in the air. Bryce raised an eyebrow, but the detectives knew that silence could be the best question. Nick Bernard didn’t lose time enhancing his saga.
“He looked at Rachel and I know he must have seen how much she looked like you.” He gestured toward Brenda. “He must have been the one to kill my wife. We are just tourists, after all.”
Brenda rolled the pen in her hand. Nick’s words and manner were disjointed. Something was not right about what he said. “I don’t see the connection between the man you saw and your wife’s death. What would that man have against you or your wife?”
Nick shrugged. “I can tell you one thing. He scrutinized that float inside and out. Before he left, he looked at Rachel again before he turned the doorknob. Then he looked back at her yet again. Why else would he take such an interest in her?”
Mac and Bryce continued the questioning as to the time Nick Bernard and his wife came back to the workshop. Nick stated they weren’t the last ones in there. Since there was no evidence to pin the murder on Nick, they had no reason to book him into jail. Mac told him to remain in town, however. Privately, Mac wondered if forensic evidence might turn up that would require them to question Nick again. But it seemed that wouldn’t be a problem, because Nick loudly protested that he wanted his wife’s body released so he could make the funeral arrangements.
“I don’t intend to leave here without my wife’s body,” Nick said heatedly. Bryce assured him the coroner would release the body as soon as he was done, and they let him go for the time being.
Back at his hotel, Nick discovered he had been moved to another room. Two cops blocked his way back into his room to pick up his belongings. One then accompanied him inside and allowed him to get his personal items and a change of clothing. The officer kept strict scrutiny over the man’s actions. When he started to pick up a jacket he had worn the night before, the cop told him to leave it and directed him to gather one set of unworn clothing from the hangers. Nick scowled and did as he was ordered. He said he didn’t appreciate cops sifting through his stuff and Rachel’s, but shuffled down the hall to his new room as the officers carefully secured the hotel door again to preserve the evidence.
After Nick left, Brenda asked Mac if she could talk with him privately. They went into his office and Mac expected her to give him her impressions of Nick Bernard. Her words startled him.
“I know you are still leaning toward my father as the murderer, Mac. He and I are estranged right now and it is true he is a hothead at times, but he is no killer.”
Mac nodded sympathetically. “We have to look at everyone who had anything to do with the floats that evening, and his car places him at the scene, and he even admits he was there. We have to consider him. You know the procedures.”
“My point is that I think we should break off our plans for a December wedding. There is no way that I could begin a life with you with this hanging over our heads. You know very well that it may take months, or even years, to get to the bottom of this crime. Until then, you would always think my father had something to do with it. I couldn’t stand having that cloud of suspicion over our marriage.”
Mac turned a shade whiter. “I can’t believe you want to call off our wedding over this, Brenda. I can’t emphasize enough that everyone is a suspect until we can find some evidence that points us to the real murderer.” He wanted to explain why he thought Tim Sheffield had done it but he realized that would only add flame to the already burning fire. The look on her face told him she wouldn’t budge.
“If you feel this way, then perhaps you’re right. I’m sorry, Brenda. I have to do my job. Surely you can understand that.” He looked at her sadly, but his voice was resolved. She stood and left his office, barely murmuring a goodbye as she walked away.
When Brenda sat behind the wheel in her car, tears flowed unchecked. She loved Mac Rivers with all her heart but right now, there was a dark cloud above them. She had to find a way to exonerate her father. She drove to the city park that overlooked the sea and walked to the bluff. The chilly November wind sent shivers across her body, but she took deep breaths allowing the fresh, salty air to soothe her. Brenda cleared her head and watched the seagulls dive for their lunches. Several sailboats floated along the waters as if in a painting while the bright sunlight pierced through the clouds far out at sea, casting lighter hues of blue on the water.
Once composed, she drove to the coroner’s office. The clock was ticking.
Chapter Eight
On Her Own
The coroner stood barely five-foot-five in his small office outside the cold, sterile medical examination rooms. His curly gray hair outlined a round face with few wrinkles. After apologizing that his
official report on Rachel Bernard’s death was still not ready, he offered her coffee or something cold to drink. Brenda declined.
“When you first saw Rachel Bernard’s body, did she have anything on her other than clothing?”
“She had nothing to identify her at all. We took fingerprints, but she was positively identified by her husband Nick Bernard.”
“I’d like to see any photos you have of the scene and after you brought her here, please.” She sat calmly in the chair across from the coroner and tried to hide her nerves. Normally, he would have to get approval from the police before he handed anything over.
Thankfully, the coroner just nodded and handed her the photos from a folder on his desk.
“I’ll give you a copy of her fingerprints, too, if you want them.” Brenda agreed and thanked him.
Back in her car, she called Chief Bob Ingram.
“Have you found any identification for Rachel Bernard in the hotel room yet?”
“We found very little that tells us she was even there, except for her clothing. Most of it still had price tags when we found it hanging in the hotel room closet. There was no purse and barely any toiletries or makeup. That seemed odd to me because my wife’s makeup paraphernalia takes up over half the dresser.” He paused. “The funny thing is that the makeup gathered from the room had never been opened. We’re checking fingerprints on the containers now.”
“There’s something fishy about the Bernards. The coroner told me there was no identification of any kind on Rachel. And now you are telling me hardly anything personal was found in her hotel room. Something just isn’t right, Chief.”
“It is a concern for me as well. Mac or I will let you know if we find anything more of significance.” Chief Ingram hesitated, as if he wanted to ask her a question. Brenda realized he probably wanted to know what had caused Mac’s shocked, sad demeanor after she left the police office. It was the last thing she could face at that moment. The pain was too fresh, but the case was also too important, so she hurriedly ended the call.
Turkey, Pies and Alibis Page 6