by Ella White
Power, Wealth & Murder
Carriage Cove Mystery Book 1
Ella White
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Copyright © 2016 Ella White
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Chapter 1
Vickie hummed to herself as she switched the sign on her café door to “Open” and unlocked the front door. There were already a few people outside waiting for the Sip and Read Café to open, but Vickie prided herself on opening at seven o’clock a.m. on the dot. A few of the café’s waiters were there too, and ready to start when she let the first customers in.
“Good morning, Margaret.” She greeted each customer as they came in. “Morning, James. Good morning, Heather. What can I get you?”
The waiters and baristas were soon rushing around, taking care of customers both at the counter and at each table. Vickie herself stayed at the front counter, taking orders, making coffee and serving pastries as ordered.
“Here’s your change.” She passed the coffee over. “Have a nice morning!”
Vickie heard a soft meow at her feet and glanced down with a smile. “Good morning to you too, Tyler.”
Tyler was the shop’s resident cat and reading buddy. A Russian Blue with the most sparkling green eyes imaginable, he was a welcome attraction to many of the customers. Some of the elders, like Margaret, came simply for a chance to pet his inconceivably soft blue-gray fur. Tyler also had the habit of bothering Vickie for food, even though many of the patrons shared their food with him. Vickie even had to put up a sign that said “Please Don’t Feed the Cat” to stop it, although this was not usually successful.
“Don’t worry,” she told the young cat. “I’ll get your breakfast in just a minute.”
Tyler meowed and went to rub Jason’s legs. He was always more of a sucker for his purring. As the customers came and went, Vickie took a few seconds to look around her little café. It was, in her opinion, just perfect. Besides the counter with numerous coffee and espresso machines, there were rows for donuts, cakes and other pastries, a slot for fruit, and a separate shelf for bags of coffee for people who wanted to brew their own at home. The spare wall space was covered with bookshelves, filled to the brim with various books, classic and modern, although most were in the mystery genre. From Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to Agatha Christie to Dan Green, she made sure she had a diversity of novels to appeal to all her customers.
Vickie had opened this place up as a coffee and book store in the small, cozy town of Carriage Cove, Oregon after she retired from being a literature teacher at Carriage Cove Community College. As evidenced by her genre of choice in her coffee shop, she had specialized in mystery novels, although the curriculum required that she also cover nonfiction, thriller, drama, satire, and action and adventure. Interestingly, fantasy and science fiction were not required in the program, although Vickie had to agree with the argument that it would be a good idea for works such as Lord of the Rings to be required reading.
But mystery! Detective fiction really was the best! The intrigue, the thrill, the details of means, motive and opportunity…it was a true brain exercise! She loved this genre so much, Vickie even hosted a mystery book club every Wednesday night.
For the fifty-year-old woman, however, retirement was enormously boring, and so she had opened the café. Her husband was surprised by her decision, but their combined retirement savings and his job as a bank manager gave them enough financial freedom to allow her to do it. Now Vickie couldn’t image doing anything else.
The start of the morning went typically enough, and Vickie was in her usual happy mood. This did not last long, however, as her cell phone suddenly began to ring. She stared at it. Only close friends and family called her cell, and they knew she was at work now, so whoever was calling must have really important news.
“Hey, Kimberly, can you man the fort for a second?”
Her employee quickly nodded, understanding the importance of her boss taking such a call, and Kimberly took her place behind the counter. Vickie took her phone to the back room and checked the caller ID. It was her daughter, Rachel.
“Morning, Rachel,” she greeted. “How are you?”
“Mom, oh Mom.” Vickie could tell that her twenty-four-year-old child had been crying. “I…the paper…they wanted me to…I can’t…”
“Hold on, dear! Slow down!” She could just barely make out what Rachel was saying. “Take a deep breath. Okay? Good. Now, calmly and slowly, tell me what happened.”
“My boss at the paper…he called me this morning,” Rachel explained, still quite tearfully. “They want me to cover a story.”
“Okay, but that’s not unusual,” Vickie replied. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not all right,” she answered quietly.
“What’s the story about?”
“Mom, its Anthony…. He’s been murdered.”
“What?” Vickie’s blood froze in her veins.
“Last night,” Rachel continued. “He was killed behind the bookstore. The police have already arrested Harrison Bell. The crime apparently matches the one in his latest book.”
Vickie was silent for several minutes as she took all this in. A murder in Carriage Cove, Oregon? This sort of thing never happened here. The most exciting crime she could recall was the one time the bank had been robbed, and the culprit had been caught within twenty-four hours. Who would ever guess it would be somewhere a murder would occur?
“Okay, dear, listen to me very carefully,” Vickie said, returning to her cell. “Did Henry say you had to cover this story?”
“No. He just really wants me to,” Rachel responded. “He said it would be a good chance to see whether I can stay objective during an interview.”
Vickie wanted to slap Henry upright. Rachel’s own boyfriend was a murder victim, yet he wanted her to interview Anthony’s possible killer? Where was the logic in that? Where was the compassion in that?
“Rachel, dear, you should go home. Call in sick today,” she advised. “Your father isn’t going anywhere today. Take a little time to think about it before you decide. You can’t cover a story if you’re upset.”
Vickie heard her daughter take multiple breaths before she answered. “Okay. Good idea. I’ll…go over there now.”
“I’m going to tie up some loose ends at the café, and I’ll meet you there in a little while, okay?”
“Right. Just…thanks Mom.”
“Of course, my love. Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you soon.”
“All right. Bye, Mom.”
Vickie said her own goodbye before hanging up her cell phone. She stood in the middle of the employees’ lounge, a little unsure of what to do or how to feel. Once she composed herself, Vickie headed back out into the front of the café, where her employees were working as diligently as always. She couldn’t help but smile; they were like a well-oiled machine when they put their minds to it.
Kimberly finished with the last customer in the line and turned to address her. “Hey, Vickie. Is everything okay?”
Vickie couldn’t help but smile at the same question she had posed to her daughter. “Not really. Ther
e’s been a family emergency. Can you and the others cover for me for today?”
“Of course,” Kimberly replied. “We can handle everything. Tell us about it later?”
“I absolutely will. Thanks, Kim. I owe you one.”
That was one thing Vickie made sure of when she opened the Sip and Read Café, she always wanted to treat her employees well. She had plenty of personal experience involving someone treating her like she wasn’t wanted or appreciated, and she never wanted anyone who worked for her to feel that way. This had the seemingly obvious result (which a lot of her previous employers didn’t understand) of her employees being very loyal to her, so when there was an emergency, they were okay with handling the shop. Vickie smiled. She didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky to have a team like this.
Vickie headed straight for her office in the back of the coffee shop. She always turned her computer on at the beginning of the day, so it only took a second to get it out of sleep mode. Vickie hated ruining the thrill that came with finishing a new book, but she hadn’t had the chance to read Harrison Bell’s new book before now. She could only remember a little from the reading Harrison had given the previous night. This one time, she would make an exception.
It wasn’t hard to find a plot summary of Harrison’s book, “Power, Wealth & Murder.” It was a murder mystery involving a rich and powerful man who wanted to prove he was superior to the “normal people” and could get away with the perfect murder. In the book, the victim was killed by a stab in the chest with a pair of garden shears, and a paper origami bird was left on the body as a kind of calling card.
“Rachel said Anthony’s murder was like the one in this book.” Vickie rubbed her chin in thought. “I just can’t believe that a successful author like Harrison Bell would kill someone. Maybe he’s being set up? Maybe someone at the reading last night heard about the book’s murder and decided to copy it? If that’s true, this is all my fault.”
Tyler suddenly leapt onto her desk and meowed at her. She glanced away from the computer.
“What do you think, Tyler? What should I do?” The little cat walked up to her and pressed his head into her hand, all the while purring like mad. “Yeah, I know. I still haven’t fed you.”
She looked back at the computer, thinking about how everything had been normal and routine the night before. Vickie had been so excited to hear that Harrison Bell wanted to have a reading at her coffee shop as part of his book tour. He was a best-selling murder mystery novelist! How could she refuse?
Tyler meowed, getting her attention again. “You’re right. If Harrison is innocent, then I should help clear his name. Rachel said he had already been arrested, so he must be at the police station. I better head there, quickly!”
Vickie grabbed her purse and sprinted out the door. An insistent meow stopped her, and she looked down at her feet to where Tyler had clung to the legs of her pants. She laughed and picked him up.
“Okay, little one. I’ll take you home with me today. Rachel will be happy to see you and she can feed you.”
After dropping Tyler off, she wasted no time in driving over to the local precinct.
The precinct itself was not familiar territory for Vickie. She had never had a reason to go there. The front entrance led to a tiny waiting room, where a sheet of glass and a few metal bars blocked the receptionist’s desk, completely cutting off the waiting area from the rest of the building. Vickie couldn’t help but wonder if the glass was bulletproof. Beyond the desk was a larger room with numerous other, smaller tables all around. There were a few whiteboards with notes scrawled on them, but Vickie couldn’t make out what they said, either because they were too far away or because the handwriting was atrocious. A few officers ran back and forth, chattering away and presumably trading evidence and theories.
Vickie walked up to the receptionist. “Excuse me? I heard that Harrison Bell is here?”
“That’s right,” the young women replied, not taking her eyes off her computer. “He’s under arrest for murder. Why?”
“May I please speak with him?”
“Are you family?”
“No.”
“Are you his attorney?”
“…No.”
“Then I’m afraid you can’t talk to him.”
“Please, it’s important,” Vickie begged. “It’s about Anthony Lee’s murder. I might be able to help.”
The receptionist sighed melodramatically and picked up the phone. “Let me call the chief so you can speak to her.”
Vickie waited a few minutes. She tried to gather her thoughts regarding what she would tell the chief of police. She only hoped she could convince the chief to let her speak with Harrison. She might even ask a question the chief wouldn’t think of.
The chief of police looked a bit younger than Vickie, although based on her appearance, it would be easy to mistake her for someone even younger. The first thing she noticed was the name on the woman’s badge, which read Susan Miles, Chief of Police, Carriage Cove. This badge was nearly shoved into Vickie’s face, and she realized just how much taller Susan was than her. Her hair was kept short and curly, and she had a stern expression on her face as she entered the waiting area.
“Victoria Matheson?” Even her voice had a no-nonsense quality to it.
“Yes, Chief.” Vickie held out a hand for her to shake, and she grimaced a little at Susan’s strong grip. “I was hoping I could speak with Harrison Bell about the murder that happened last night?”
“Civilians aren’t allowed to be involved with murder investigations,” she replied, almost as if she were reciting from a book. “So I’m afraid not.”
“Please. I might even be able to help you.”
“How so?”
“I’ve read every mystery novel that’s ever been published…in English at least,” Vickie described. “I know how a murder is solved, how a murderer must have the motive, means, opportunity for a crime, and how attention to detail and strong observation skills are key to solving a mystery.”
“Knowing how those things are done is one thing,” Susan lectured. “This isn’t a mystery book.”
“I understand that, all too well.” Vickie felt like she was trying to defend her resume to a potential employer, which she hadn’t done in decades. “I was a professor at Carriage Cover Community College. I taught literature. Detail and observation are my bread and butter. If anyone can help you with solving this crime, it’s me.”
The chief stared at her. She could tell that Susan was a determined woman. She knew that stubborn redheads were a stereotype, but the chief seemed to fit it perfectly.
“Your name is Matheson?” she recalled. “Any relation to Rachel Matheson?”
“Yes. She’s my daughter.” Vickie cocked her head. “How do you know her?”
“I got a call from the paper today saying she would be coming by for an interview about the case,” Susan explained. “I haven’t seen her yet though.”
“She might not be coming by.” Vickie tried to keep her voice steady. “She had been dating Anthony Lee for a while. She’s very upset by his death.”
Susan’s eyes softened just a little. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s part of the reason I want to help,” Vickie insisted. “It’s for my daughter, to help her find some peace.”
The chief of police sighed and waited several minutes before speaking. “I can’t leave you alone with Mr. Bell, but you may accompany me when I question him. I haven’t had the chance yet.”
“That’s just fine.” Vickie gave her a broad smile. “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me. Your daughter would probably share the interview with you anyway,” Susan concluded. “Reporters can never keep their mouths shut.”
Vickie followed Susan into the back of the building where the interrogation rooms were. They headed straight for the room in the farthest corner, guarded by two officers. Of course with Chief Miles there, the cops quickly moved aside to let them in.
Harrison Bell didn’t look like he was bothered about being under arrest. He just sat in the chair at the table, as calm as he had been at the reading the night before. As he combed his fingers through his dark hair, Vickie noticed a streak of gray coming from the front of his hairline. He was tall, almost as tall as the chief, with broad shoulders, although that may have only been the style of the suit he wore. Harrison appeared to be more interested in his nails than in where he was.
He glanced up as the two women entered and took the seats across the table from him. “Hello, ladies. What can I do for you today?”
“Mr. Bell, I would like to ask you some questions about your activities last night,” Susan inquired. She took out a notepad and pen. “Will you describe your movements for me?”
“I was at a reading for my new book, at the Sip and Read Café.” Harrison looked at Vickie. “Nice to see you again, by the way, Mrs. Matheson.”
Vickie just smiled and nodded while Susan spoke. “When did you leave there?”
“Around nine thirty, after I finished the reading and had a session for questions.” He looked rather proud of this. “There were lots of questions. Understandable, given the popularity of my books, right, Mrs. Matheson?”
Vickie nodded but stayed quiet. She didn’t want to risk angering Susan and being thrown out of the room.
“Where were you after that?” Susan continued her questioning. “Say, between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m.?”
“I was in my hotel room, enjoying a takeout order from the local diner.”
“What was the diner?”
“The Oakwood Smokehouse. I had steak, well done, and potatoes with roasted vegetables.”
Susan didn’t bother to write down the superfluous information. “Did anyone see you there?”
“The diner’s waitress. She was closing up. That was at about ten.”
“And you were in your hotel room after that?”
“That’s correct, Ms. Miles.”
“Chief Miles,” Susan corrected, a little snap in her tone. “Can anyone verify that?”