“Thanks for your concern ma’am,” she said in a flat voice.
Sheriff Jacob Roy sat behind his chipped old desk, hands neatly folded, bushy eyebrows drawn together.
“We’ve had some trouble tracking you down Miss White,” he said. “I’ve asked you to meet with me since your mother reported Jordan missing. I know we’ve had some communication by phone but your absence still strikes me as odd. Can you explain yourself?”
Amy’s eyes darted to the door, as if judging the possibility of escape. Then she took a deep breath and looked the sheriff directly in the eye.
“I was looking for Jordan,” she said in the same flat voice. “When he didn’t come home Saturday morning I freaked out. I mean, sometimes the guy parties late, but he always comes home. So I just took off, trying to look for him.”
The sheriff leaned forward. “And why did your mother call the police and not you?”
Amy returned his hard look and crossed her arms. “Everyone knows Jordan’s a complicated guy. He’s had problems with cops, mostly just for getting in fights. I knew he wouldn’t want me calling you.”
“Alright. So where have been the last few days?” the sheriff asked.
She shrugged. “Drove to his work to see if anyone knew anything. Went around to see his friends. A lot of help they were too, hung-over and mean as snakes. Then I went into the park. I know Jordan likes to go for hikes when he’s feeling bad.”
The sheriff’s brows lowered. “Why would Jordan decide to go for a hike at night in the National Forest? Has he ever done that before?”
“I don’t know. Jordan’s unpredictable. Look at the tape of him walking out of that bar. Just taking off. He’s like that.” She paused and started chipping the polish off her thumb again. “Are you sure somebody did this to him?” she said in a small voice. “I mean, I’m sure he was drunk, maybe he fell…”
The sheriff cleared his throat loudly. “Amy, the coroner specifically told me that he had been held underwater. I need to know who did this to him. And I need you to help me.”
As he was speaking, Hamish crawled off the file cabinet and cautiously approached Amy. Hamish’s eyes were fixed on her intently as if she was a giant squirrel. She paid him no mind until he started to sniff at one of her hands dangling down. She snatched the hand back and frowned.
Hamish wouldn’t be put off. Due to his size and strength he was afraid of very little, even dogs. He put his paws up on her lap, butted his head right against her fingers, and began sniffing intently.
Amy stood up fast and backed away. “What’s that cat doing?” she said in a nervous voice. “He’s freaking me out.”
A sudden idea struck Beatrice. She decided to be straightforward.
“Amy, there have been counterfeit bills found in Ashbrook. At my café, the pharmacy, the grocery store where you work. At Moore’s Bar, too. We found a whole envelope of them there.”
Amy’s face paled further but Beatrice soldiered on. “Madison said that you and Cameron are close. Was there any jealously between him and Jordan? Could Cameron have…”
Her line of inquiry was stopped by Hamish’s brash action. He leapt up on Amy and began nipping at her fingers. Amy screamed and backed right against the walls. Beatrice tried to shoo away the feisty cat but he would not be discouraged. He shied away for a moment and then tried leaping at Amy again.
There was a commotion as the sheriff moved between the two of them and Beatrice tried to grab hold of the massive Maine Coon who, when he wanted to be, was as slippery as an eel and stubborn as a mule.
By the end of it, Hamish was put in another room and Amy was sniffling into a tissue. Hamish hadn’t hurt her—he had never been an aggressive cat—but he certainly had scared her.
The sheriff cast a severe look at Beatrice that told her it was time to skedaddle. She scooped up Lucky, retrieved Hamish, and went back to her truck. The big cat sat in his bed, looking as serene as could be.
“You shouldn’t have gone after Amy like that,” she said to him.
“And you, you’re going in your carrier,” she said to Lucky. She picked him up and immediately, out of the clutches of his back paws, fell a purple cell phone decorated in rhinestones.
“What on earth did you steal?” she asked the black cat. He blinked at her, all innocence. Sighing, Beatrice fished some gloves out of her bag, put them on, and unlocked the phone—the passcode was the classic “1234.”
There were texts and phone calls from Jordan but there were far more from Cameron. Amy had deleted them but copies remained in her trash bin, which she hadn’t emptied. Beatrice thanked the heavens she knew her way around a smartphone.
The messages from Cameron were sweet at the beginning, saying that he missed her and wanted to see her. Later, they became more aggressive, saying bad things about Jordan and asking when she was going to leave him. It seemed like Cameron really cared for her, though he seemed desperate about it.
Was he trying to protect her or was he the aggressor? It was hard to tell.
Beatrice decided that it was time to get more background information on Amy and Jordan. Madison probably wouldn’t speak to her again. But there had to be others who would talk.
Beatrice whipped out her own phone, looked up Amy on Facebook, and began scrolling through her list of friends. She immediately recognized people who had been in her year. Direct friends might protect her. Acquaintances might have more to say. Thankfully, Beatrice knew enough about Ashbrook’s social scene that she knew the difference.
She began sending Facebook messages rapid-fire, praying for a response.
12
“Beatrice, Hannah’s here to see you,” Zoe said, popping her dark head around the corner of the office door.
Beatrice immediately straightened from her hunched position over her laptop, her accounting program forgotten in an instant. After her visit to the sheriff’s offices, she had managed to finish all her tasks in a matter of hours. Now it was time to return to the case at hand. She slapped the computer closed and went into the café.
Hannah Moore had been the social outcast of her grade in high school, just like Beatrice. The reason seemed to be the same as it ever was—clothes not quite right, studious, socially awkward. Beatrice immediately felt sympathy towards her.
Now, Hannah worked as a legal assistant at the local law office and was a trim blonde with an expensive purse. She sat in one of the corner nooks by the window, the late afternoon light illuminating her made-up face. A foamy latte sat in front of her but Hannah couldn’t reach it because Lucky was circling her lap like a dog frantically searching for the most comfortable position.
He paused as Beatrice approached, emerald eyes wide. While Hamish liked to keep his distance from strangers, especially ones who loved cats, Lucky was always trying to coax affection out of her customers. He was persistent to the point of being annoying. It was Beatrice’s job to gently shoo him away, which only made him confused. Humans existed to love him. Why would Beatrice try to prevent that?
Beatrice took her place opposite Hannah in a comfy wingback chair upholstered in soft blue and gold brocade.
“So, you want to know more about Amy and Cameron?” Hannah said matter-of-factly, scratching Lucky between the ears. He purred loudly, his eyes closing in bliss.
Beatrice appreciated her directness. Hannah didn’t ask why Beatrice wanted to know. Maybe, for a lawyer, it was natural to ask questions about matters that didn’t directly concern you.
“That’s right,” Beatrice replied, smiling at Lucky as he continued to purr. “I’m helping the sheriff with his investigation so I’m trying to figure out how they’re connected. I know that Amy and Jordan dated for a long time, but I have the sense that Cameron was in Amy’s life too.”
“Of course he was,” Hannah replied quickly. “He was always in the picture. Cameron’s parents moved here right before grade nine and Amy and Jordan had already been dating for a year. Cameron wasn’t exactly in Amy’s social circle but they
both ended up working at Wilson’s Diner that year.”
“And they became friends?”
Hannah shrugged and moved Lucky’s tail out of her face. “There were a lot of rumors. But it was plain to me, and probably the rest of our high school, that Cameron was in love with Amy. He used to drive her home after work, he followed her around at school and he never had a girlfriend. It got to the point where apparently Jordan forbade Amy from spending any time with Cameron. But they worked together so it was impossible for them not to talk.”
Beatrice frowned and leaned her elbows on the table. “Do you think Amy loved Cameron back?”
“I’m not sure.” Hannah reached carefully for her latte and Lucky watched her drink it with his big round eyes, still purring. “She was always nice to him, that I saw—but she was friendly, not flirtatious. And Cameron wasn’t exactly good-looking. Not like he is now. He really grew into himself after high school.”
A faint flush colored the tops of Hannah’s cheeks, telling Beatrice that not even this straight-laced lawyer was blind to his rough charms.
“And do you know if they still spent time together? After high school, I mean.”
Hannah sighed. Lucky jumped off her lap and she brushed off her skirt. “I wasn’t exactly close with their group, so I can’t tell you for sure. I’ve seen Amy driving in the direction of Cameron’s bar on more than a few occasions. I’ve also heard that Jordan was controlling. Who knows if Amy got tired of him and turned to Cameron instead? But that’s all speculation. I can’t really tell you anything else concrete.”
Beatrice shook her hand and stood up. “That’s plenty for now. Thanks so much for your help.”
Hannah smiled grimly. “It’s a shame what happened to Jordan. Anything I can do, let me know.”
Beatrice thanked her, made sure that her coffee was paid for and lunch was on its way. Then she headed straight to the sheriff’s office with Lucky, Hamish, and a paper bag full of lunch in tow.
13
Sheriff Jacob Roy was pecking cautiously on an ancient computer when Beatrice arrived. He had never learned to touch type and he squinted as he worked, as if he was suspicious of the entire process.
Roy sighed heavily when he saw Beatrice enter but his eyes lit up when he spotted the brown paper bag in her hand. Beatrice knew that the sheriff always forgot to eat lunch and that he had a soft spot for their baked mac n’cheese. She put the offering in front of him and he immediately unpacked the main meal, as well as a side salad, a coffee, and a dark chocolate and cherry cookie.
The sheriff shook his head and picked up the fork, thoughtfully included with the lunch. “You sure know how to butter me up, Bee. I can’t resist this mac n’cheese. Some days I think that if you asked me to fire my deputy and hire you in his place I’d do it, just so I could get lunch every day.”
Beatrice laughed and settled into the chair opposite him. “Then it’s a good thing I have a much less dramatic request.”
Roy forked in a big bite of cheesy pasta. “I knew you wanted something from me,” he said, after chewing and swallowing. “Well, out with it. I knew you weren’t here just to apologize for your cats attacking Amy White.”
“It was just Hamish and he didn’t attack her. I think he was trying to tell us something.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows raised slightly. “The cat is trying to tell us something?”
Beatrice ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “Listen, I know Amy’s fragile right now. I didn’t want to upset her. But I think she’s withholding information. You may remember that Lucky has a habit of, um, borrowing things that aren’t his.”
“You mean stealing.”
“If a cat can be charged with such a thing. Anyway, he picked up Amy’s cell before we left and I didn’t discover it until we got in the car. I, er, had a little look at the contents.” Beatrice nervously twisted one of her rings. “I thought it might be important.”
“Oh you did, did you?” The sheriff threw down his fork. “You didn’t think about returning it to Amy first?”
“It’s not a felony to read someone’s text messages,” Beatrice shot back. “Anyway, good thing I did. There are plenty of texts between her and Cameron. I spoke to Hannah and she confirms that the two of them have a history and that Jordan was jealous.”
She handed over the phone in its zip-lock plastic bag with a triumphant look. The sheriff frowned but took the bag, put on gloves, and scrolled through the texts. His eyebrows pinched together.
“Well, I see what you mean about them having a history. Amy told me that she and Cameron were just old work acquaintances. That they spoke sometimes but she didn’t know him that well.”
“I doubt that’s true,” Beatrice returned. “Hannah’s seen Amy driving in the direction of his bar many times. She’s sure because there’s little else up that road. We might be able to get security footage of her heading that way. But I think this is enough to go on for now.”
Roy peered up at her. “What exactly are you saying?”
“We have to follow her,” Beatrice said, leaning forward, her blue-gray eyes intense. “She must know her cell disappeared while she was in this office, and that we’re likely to have found it. She has to act to protect herself and fast. Something’s going to happen today and we have to be there to see it.”
The sheriff sagged back in his seat and looked at his mac n’cheese with a conflicted gaze. “You want me to tail Amy White? Why? I don’t think she killed Jordan, Bee. Maybe she had motive but she couldn’t have drowned him—she’s not his match, physically.”
Beatrice shrugged. “I don’t know who killed Jordan. But I do know that Amy is hiding something. We have to know what that is.”
The sheriff opened his mouth to reply but Beatrice didn’t give him the chance. “You know I’ll follow her anyway,” she said quickly. “I’ll convince Matthew to come with me.”
Roy stabbed the mac n’cheese and swallowed another mouthful. He chewed, his eyes faraway as he thought. “You’ve put me in quite the position, Bee.”
“Don’t you agree this is a lead?” Beatrice asked, eyes pleading. “Com’on. There’s nothing wrong with following her. Plus, there’s more lunch in it for you if you go with me. A lot more.”
Roy forked in another mouthful and looked at her evenly. “I agree with you Beatrice. Amy does appear to be hiding something. What I disagree with is you being involved. I also know that once you’ve set your mind to something there’s no holding you back. I’ll drive, okay?”
Beatrice settled back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m glad we’re in agreement, Jacob. So how are we going to do this?”
14
Hamish and Lucky sat in the backseat of Sheriff Roy’s truck, ears perked. Hamish stared out the windshield, determination on his proud face, his beautiful tan and brown fur sticking straight out all over. Lucky sat beside him. He kept looking up at Beatrice with his big green eyes as if to ask: isn’t this exciting?
They looked, in every aspect, like crime-fighting cats.
The sheriff’s truck was parked just down from Amy’s house, lights off, waiting. They knew she had returned from work and gone home. Now they were waiting for her to come out or do something, anything at all. There was little sign of life in the house or on the street as a whole other than the glow of televisions and the occasional car cruising down the street.
The stress of waiting was too much for Beatrice. She twisted her hands anxiously. The cats looked as confident as ever. The sheriff sat placidly with the patience of a saint. Matthew was in the passenger’s seat beside him, reading a paperback mystery. He had changed out of his ranger’s uniform into his blue jeans and collared shirt. Locks of gray hair fell across his tanned face. Even Beatrice had to admit that he had aged well. He turned around, one eyebrow cocked, as if acknowledging that she was looking at him.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said in his deep voice.
“I can’t believe you agreed to come.”<
br />
He shook his head. “And leave you alone on this crazy adventure?”
“She’s not exactly alone,” the sheriff said gruffly. “ I am a police officer, after all.” He cleared his throat. “And Bee’s onto something.”
Beatrice crossed her arms and beamed at Matthew in triumph. “See? I’m not just some batty old loon.”
He glared at her. “That’s not what I think…”
Both cats’ ears pricked up in unison, their eyes darting towards Amy’s house. Matthew and Beatrice followed their gaze. A dark figure walked quickly towards a parked car in the street, got in, and started the engine.
“It’s show time,” the sheriff said. He waited until Amy had driven off before he revved the engine and crept after her.
Beatrice put Lucky in his cat carrier and then sat straight up in her seat. Where was Amy going to lead them? She hoped, for Jordan’s sake, that some clue was about to be revealed.
It seemed, at first, like she was taking them to the middle of nowhere. Amy turned onto one side road and then another. It was a dark night with only a sliver of moon visible. The sheriff had his window rolled down and she could hear the rustling of autumn leaves in the trees as they readied to drop.
Amy’s little hatchback car was the sole source of light, faint against the immense darkness. Despite the fact that his headlights were switched off, Roy drove expertly on the twisting country roads. It made Beatrice wonder if he had a lot of experience in tailing people. Then again, he had been in the Ashbrook police force for over forty years. Even though it was a small town, she imagined that in that stretch of time he had seen just about everything.
“What is she doing driving out here?” asked Matthew in an undertone. He looked over at Beatrice, his forehead creasing.
Hamish looked up with a knowing look as if he understood exactly what was happening.
After a few minutes, they realized that Amy was driving towards a popular swimming hole. Since it was autumn no one went there anymore. There was a parking lot at the end of the road and a trail that led to the river.
The Counterfeiter-Catching Cat: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 1) Page 6