Merry Christmas Cozy Mystery Gift Set

by Meredith Potts

  When we parked and approached the squad car, I saw how apoplectic she was, and that was without even spotting me. I didn’t even want to think how crazy she’d get when she realized I’d be one of the people questioning her.

  Normally, the lean-framed thirty-five-year-old’s long brown curly hair was the thing that stood out about her. At that moment, her curled locks of hair were completely overshadowed by her rage. Her brown eyes were as wide as could be. She looked like she wanted to bite someone’s head off. Even on a good day, Carole had never been too shy to voice her opinions. I could only imagine what a tongue lashing we were in for.

  What she didn’t realize was that the tables were about to turn on her in a hurry. We could take whatever she dished out and more. The question was, could she handle what we were about to send her way?

  The detective talked briefly with his deputy, then Stone and I got into the front seat of the squad car. It didn’t take long for the emotional fireworks to start.

  “You’re a hard woman to find,” Detective Stone said.

  “What’s the big idea?” Carole barked. Her focus instantly shifted when she spotted me. “Andrea, what are you doing here?”

  Detective Stone tried to restore some sense of sanity to the proceedings before they went completely off the rails. “Quiet down.”

  “I will not quiet down. I have my rights.” She shot a glare my way. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

  Detective Stone remained even tempered with his response. “Ms. Dunning, we’re not violating your rights. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

  Carole kept her focus on me. “She’s not a police officer. I don’t understand what she’s doing here.” She stared daggers into my eyes. “I’m going to get you for this.”

  I had to exercise restraint, which became increasingly tougher to do with each time she teed off on me. “We’re trying to find out who killed Jake.”

  “You’re wasting your time with me, then,” she insisted.

  “We’ll be the judge of that. You have to admit that your actions are highly suspicious. Here you are, a murder suspect leaving town in the middle of an investigation,” Detective Stone said.

  Carole fired back. “I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”

  “That was your first mistake. Where were you headed?” the detective said.

  “I always go to Goose Gulch on Thursdays. That’s discount-movie day at the ultraplex,” Carole replied.

  Detective Stone was critical of her answer. “We have a movie theater in Frozen Pine.”

  “Yeah, a tiny one with old, creaky, uncomfortable seats. The ultraplex has plushy new seats. Not to mention a state-of-the-art screen and sound system,” Carole said.

  The detective indulged her story. “What movie were you going to?”

  “The four o’clock showing of A Love That Wouldn’t Give Up,” Carole said.

  Detective Stone still didn’t quite buy her story. “Uh-huh. So you weren’t trying to skip town for good, then?”

  Carole scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you even think that?”

  I jumped in. “Because you’re a murder suspect.”

  “Says you. To me, it’s a huge mistake to even put me on your list,” Carole snapped.

  Detective Stone entered the fray again. “You can keep pretending like you shouldn’t be a suspect all day. It won’t change the fact that you’re under suspicion.”

  “I’m telling you, you’re talking to the wrong person,” she replied. “Especially since there’s someone else you really should be talking to.”

  “You seem awfully eager to point fingers elsewhere,” I said.

  Carole stopped me. “Not just anywhere. At Trevor Skelton.”

  I got dead quiet for a second. That was the second time I’d heard Trevor’s name being cited. It came as no surprise to me that the suspects wanted to cast blame elsewhere, but it was uncanny that Trevor’s name happened to be the one that kept coming up. Was it just a coincidence? It was time to find out.

  “Why him?” I asked.

  “Have you talked to the guy? He’s crazy,” Carole replied.

  That was an ironic statement, coming from a loon like Carole. I needed more than that before I gave her opinion any credence.

  “That’s it, he’s just crazy?” I said.

  “Don’t you understand? Trevor never got over Jake bringing his affair to light,” Carole explained.

  “Speaking of people never getting over things, you haven’t exactly gotten over Jake breaking up with you,” I said.

  Carole became highly defensive. “I would never kill him. I loved him too much.”

  I countered. “That’s the problem. When loves goes sour, people do crazy things.”

  “I’ll say,” Detective Stone added.

  Carole shook her head vehemently. “I didn’t do this.”

  “Instead of asking us to take your word for it, there’s a way you can prove it to us,” the detective said.

  Carole looked confused.

  Detective Stone moved forward. “Where were you between seven and seven fifteen on Tuesday?”

  “I was, uh, at my friend’s house,” Carole stammered.

  “So your friend will be able to verify that?” the detective asked.

  “Yes,” Carole said.

  “Oh, really? What’s the name of your friend?” Detective Stone replied.

  “Sasha.”

  “What’s her phone number?”

  Carole was caught off guard when she saw the detective pull out his cell phone.

  Her eyes opened wide as panic entered her voice. “You’re going to call her now?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?” Detective Stone asked.

  Carole replied meekly. “No.”

  The detective got Sasha’s phone number from Carole then stepped out of the car and called her. A few seconds later, he came back.

  By then, Carole had folded her arms defiantly. “So, are we done now?”

  “Actually, no,” Detective Stone said.

  Carole wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”

  “Sasha verified that you went over to her place that night, but not until around eight o’clock. She also said you were distraught when you arrived,” Detective Stone said.

  “That’s just because I had a rough day at work--”

  I interrupted Carole. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t change the fact that you have no verifiable alibi for the time of the murder.”

  “I didn’t do this,” Carole proclaimed.

  “That would be a lot easier to believe if you had a way of proving that,” I said.

  Detective Stone decided to take the questioning in a new direction. “Ms. Dunning, you own a gun, don’t you?”

  “For protection,” Carole replied. “There are a lot of crazies out there.”

  “Some are closer than you think,” I said pointedly.

  Carole shot me another glare.

  Detective Stone carried on with his line of thought. “This gun of yours, it’s a thirty-eight caliber, isn’t it?”

  “Technically. But that doesn’t mean I did this,” Carole insisted.

  “I wish I could believe you,” Detective Stone replied.

  By that point, the interrogation had reached a fever pitch. Carole was at wits end. She folded her arms, with her mind made up. “I’m not answering any more of your questions. Don’t make me call my lawyer.”

  It was tempting to take her back to the station and lock her up just to see if she’d break down, but she seemed to have too much resolve for that. In addition, the detective couldn’t keep her behind bars for long without having more evidence. She seemed to know that just as well as we did.

  So, reluctantly, Detective Stone let her go, but not without a warning first. He told Carole that a patrol car would be assigned to her in case she decided to try and head out of town again. While a deputy tailed her back into town, the detective and I moved on to the final suspect on our list
.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Billy Conklin might have been the last, but he was certainly not the least suspicious of the suspects. Fresh off the news of his affair coming to light, he was actually right at the top of the list. At least, that was where he began the day. With the wild interrogations Detective Stone and I had experienced, it was hard to find someone who didn’t look absurdly guilty. Perhaps Billy would be different.

  I wasn’t counting on it. Right then, my most immediate concern was whether he was at his cabin. After all the driving around we’d done, the last thing I wanted was to have to track Billy down. Thankfully, as the detective approached his cabin, I was relieved to see a pickup truck parked in the driveway. That meant he was definitely home. The next hurdle to overcome was whether Billy would answer his door.

  As we waited for an answer, I couldn’t help but think how surreal Billy’s situation was. Until recently, this remote cabin on the outskirts of town was used as a rental. When his wife threw him out after news of his affair, he had begrudgingly turned it into his new full-time home.

  After the first few rounds of knocking, it seemed like Detective Stone and I would have to think of a way to draw Billy outside. Luckily, we were able to scrap those plans when we heard Billy’s voice coming from the other side of the door.

  “Who is it?” Billy said.

  “Detective Adam Stone, Frozen Pine Police Department.”

  “Again? What do you want?”

  “I have a few more questions to ask you, Billy.”

  A silence fell on the conversation.

  Detective Stone got ready to pound on the door, but just as he raised his fist, Billy came out. He was a burly, bearded, forty-six-year-old with no neck to speak of who worked in construction. Although, he could have just as easily been a professional arm wrestler or bouncer at a night club. Judging by his grumpy demeanor, we were the last people he wanted to talk to. Astrid had been right—it did seem like he’d been drinking.

  Detective Stone responded to Billy’s snarl with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “You don’t have to look so happy to see me,” Stone said.

  “Trust me, I won’t,” Billy replied.

  Billy’s angry eyes then zeroed in on me.

  Detective Stone knew exactly what question was about to come. He stopped Billy before he had the chance to ask it.

  “This is Andrea. She’s assisting me with the case,” Stone said.

  “But why is she assisting you with the case here? After the other day, what other questions could you possibly have to ask me?” Billy replied.

  “You’re pretty confident for a guy with such a shaky alibi.”

  Billy didn’t flinch or show any cracks in his confidence. “It’s not my fault if you aren’t willing to accept the truth.”

  “You mean, the truth according to you. The problem with your story is that you have no one to verify it.”

  “That doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “Why don’t we go over your story again?” Detective Stone said.

  The annoyance was building on Billy’s face. “Why?”

  “Just indulge me for a minute. If you’re really telling the truth like you say you are, there’s no reason not to tell me again.”

  What seemed like redundancy was really something else entirely. The more irritated people became, the more likely they were to let information slip without even realizing it. Billy was already plenty grumpy to begin with. The fact that the detective was forcing him to relay his story again could wear down his last nerve.

  There was another reason for Detective Stone’s actions. When it came to interviewing suspects, it was often a revealing experience to ask the same questions over and over. As a suspect relayed their story for a second or third time, often subtle details would come out without them realizing it.

  If there was any deviation in their stories from one telling to the next, those slips of the tongue were actually the truth dribbling out. It was a best-case scenario for a sleuth, and a rare one at that, but in a case this wide open, it was one that was well worth taking.

  Billy sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Good. Now, where were you again on Tuesday between seven and seven fifteen?” Detective Stone asked.

  “I told you, I was just getting home,” Billy replied.

  “No. The other day you told me you were already home,” the detective said.

  Billy groaned. “I meant, I was just pulling into the driveway. Same difference.”

  “We’ll be the judge of that. Now, as you were pulling in the driveway, you were by yourself, correct?” Detective Stone asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So, despite all your bluster, you really have no way of verifying your alibi?”

  Billy lost his grip on his temper. “I already told you, I didn’t do this.”

  “I’ve heard that one before. Every suspect has told me they are innocent, yet I know one of you is guilty.”

  “It’s not me,” Billy said.

  I had waited patiently for long enough. Despite his best efforts, the detective was getting nowhere.

  I decided to step in and take a different approach. Billy was already on edge. Perhaps I could push him off the deep end.

  “You said you didn’t do this, but you certainly had plenty enough reason to,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?” Billy snapped.

  “Do you want me to go down the list? You’re in the middle of a messy divorce. Until recently, you lived in a really nice four-bedroom home. Now, you’re in an old, remote cabin. You can’t pretend like your life is the same as it was before,” I said.

  “I’m not pretending anything. Trust me, no one knows more how different my life is than me.”

  “Exactly. And it’s all due to Jake’s private-eye work.”

  Billy stopped me right there. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  I challenged him. “Am I?”

  He nodded. “I was the one who cheated on my wife.”

  What an oddly candid admission for a murder suspect to make. Of all the times to hear that kind of honesty, it was frustrating to be hearing it right then.

  I tried to push him again. “But Jake exposed your affair.”

  Billy narrowed his eyes at me. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  I played dumb. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re trying to push me to my limit, to get me so angry that I’ll say something stupid. Well, it’s not going to happen. I’ve told you my story, and it isn’t changing.”

  I was running out of room to work with. All I could do was make one last-gasp effort. “So you’re really going to stand here tell me that you’re not angry at Jake for what he did?”

  “No. The person I’m angry with is myself,” Billy replied.

  I couldn’t believe how quickly he’d shut me down, and he wasn’t even done yet.

  He took it one step further. “Now, I have nothing else to say.”

  Detective Stone and I could have kept pressing him, but we knew it would do no good. He was wise to our methods. Given that, we had no choice but to leave and try to regroup.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thankfully, even the most frustrating days eventually came to an end. This one was wrapping up just in time. The sight of my front patio was a most welcome one. While the other stops I’d made that day filled me with dread, the opposite was the case this time, mostly because I knew there wouldn’t be a combative suspect waiting behind my door. I would be treated to peace and quiet, which were just about the three sweetest words I could hear right then.

  My body already began relaxing as I walked up the driveway. The adrenaline that had carried me through the whole day quickly faded, replaced with a deep exhaustion that stretched from my head to my toes. It was a striking change that came out of nowhere. I had to reach deep to tap into my last reserve of energy.

  Conversation was the last thing I was in the mood for. Unfor
tunately, as Detective Stone joined me on my patio, one was unavoidable. I wasn’t about to be rude to the detective, but I also had no interest in lingering either.

  “You really didn’t have to walk me to my door,” I said.

  “We’re in the middle of a murder investigation. During times like this, you can never be too careful,” he replied.

  “I can’t argue with you there. Thanks again.”

  He nodded. “Get some rest. A detective’s best friend is a good night’s sleep.”

  “I thought donuts were a detective’s best friend.”

  “You can’t go wrong with either. Or, if you’re lucky, both.”

  “That’s the spirit. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night.”

  The detective then turned around and headed back to his car. He wouldn’t get far.

  See, I lived on a quiet street, even during the best of weather. During the middle of winter, the place was dead quiet. So when someone did make a loud noise, it stood out more than ever. As I reached into my purse to grab my keys, I heard a loud crashing sound coming from inside my house.

  I immediately went on high alert. My muscles tensed up as I feared the worst. What was that noise? More importantly, who had caused it? Had someone broken into my house? If so, was it just a common burglar, or was something more sinister at play? A horrifying thought flashed through my mind. What if it was one of the suspects we’d interrogated earlier looking to silence me for good?

  It would have been easy to become paralyzed with fear. I narrowly resisted, instead whirling around. Thankfully, the detective hadn’t reached his car yet. Clearly, he’d heard the crashing noise too, as he approached the door and drew his gun.

  When he reached me, he whispered in my ear.

  “Leave this to me,” he said.

  “With pleasure,” I replied.

  “Now, stay behind me.”

  I nodded and let him take the lead.

  Stone then raised his voice and addressed whoever was inside.