Soufflé Murder: A Seagrass Sweets Cozy Mystery

by Sandi Scott

  Ashley got back into her car as Sheriff Mueller and Detective Luna took off, following closely behind the ambulance. Suddenly, she felt completely exhausted, but things were beginning to come together in her mind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Grabbing her phone from her tote, Ashley called Patty at the kitchen and told her what happened to Graham. Patty agreed to take care of the last of the food preparation needed for the day so that Ashley could go to the hospital to check on Graham. She also told her partner that she would call Ryan and tell him that Ashley might be late for their evening together.

  “Ask him to pick up Dizzy from the hospital,” Ashley said. “It's cool enough that she’d be okay in the car with the windows cracked for the few minutes it will take for him to get there, but I'd rather settle her down in the courtyard in front of the emergency room entrance. She'll stay there and behave herself, and I think there's a place I can attach her leash, just in case.”

  As she drove, Ashley tried to organize her thoughts and clarify her theory about the murder. She thought she had things all figured out by the time she pulled into the parking lot where she saw the sheriff and detective getting out of their cars. The solution she figured out made logical sense of the facts, but she was having a hard time believing that someone would kill another person for the reason she saw.

  “Sheriff Mueller! Detective Luna,” Ashley called out. “Wait for me, please. I need to talk to you before you talk to Graham!”

  The two men paused near the large automatic doors that led into the emergency room waiting area. The detective's facial expression made it clear that he wasn't interested in hearing anything else that Ashley had to say. He clearly hadn't taken her rant earlier to heart.

  “Ms. Adams,” Luna barked. “What do you think you're doing coming here?”

  “Excuse me? I'm visiting an injured friend,” Ashley snapped at him, having reached the end of her patience with his snarky attitude. “The last time I checked, there hadn't been any laws passed to prevent that, so I'm not exactly sure why it's any of your business why I'm here. And, even if there was such a law or some other reason for you to be challenging my presence, it still wouldn't make it acceptable for you to speak to me—or to anyone else for that matter—in such a nasty way. I'm a civilian, not an inferior.”

  Surprise flashed across the detective's face, showing that he hadn't expected Ashley to object to his words or his tone.

  “Of course, you're right,” Luna finally acknowledged. “I apologize, but you have to admit that, given our history, it's not unrealistic for me to suspect that you showed up to snoop and to interfere with us doing our jobs.”

  Ashley smirked. “I have no need to 'snoop' anymore, detective, although I prefer 'inquire,’ ‘probe,’ or ‘collect data.' However, setting semantics aside, I'm pretty sure I know who killed Howard Andrews and why he was killed. It's the only thing that makes sense, and I think that Graham can confirm that I'm right.”

  Sheriff Mueller stepped up. “Let's go inside and find a consulting room where we can speak privately. The Seagrass grapevine doesn't need to know all the details of this case, and I'm not interested in fielding calls about one of my staff and a resident having a loud, public argument, especially in front of the hospital. And, both of you—leave the attitudes at the door. I've had enough of them from both of you, and I will have either or both of you removed from the hospital if you start it up again. Act like the mature and professional adults you're supposed to be. And yes, that's an order!”

  As he led them into the ER and spoke to the receptionist on duty, showing her his badge, Luna and Ashley exchanged sheepish looks, like a pair of siblings who had just been chastised by their father After the sheriff explained what they needed, the receptionist nodded and pointed down the hallway behind her desk. He waved to Ashley and the detective and strode down the hall, not waiting to see if they followed.

  Opening the door to the small room usually reserved to allow doctors and families to talk together, the sheriff gestured for Ashley and Luna to take seats across the table from him.

  “Okay, Ashley,” Mueller said. “Spill it, tell us your theory. Detective, let her finish her thoughts before you ask any questions. And Ashley, you'd better talk fast—someone is going to come to get the detective and me when Graham regains consciousness and can talk to us. When that happens, this conversation goes on hold.”

  Ashley took a deep breath before starting to speak. She was really convinced of her explanation in the car, but she felt a little nervous now that it was time to share it with someone else. The fact that Luna didn't want her there didn't do much to boost her confidence either. Still, no other explanation made sense of all of the facts she'd learned.

  “You know that Chantelle Roth blames Estes Mount for putting a dent in her business, don't you? And that she's struggling financially, like badly enough to lose everything?” Ashley glanced at both men. When they nodded, she continued. “I think that she decided to do something to make the venue look so bad that they would lose customers and have to shut down. She created a murder scene, hoping that those customers would be scared off and that Estes Mount would go out of business. I don't think she targeted Howard Andrews personally. I think he was just conveniently alone when the time came to put her plan into action. In fact, I'm not sure she really meant for anyone to die, a serious injury would have accomplished her purpose as long as the victim either sued or spread the word that the center wasn't safe.”

  Neither man spoke, although they both looked thoughtful. Ashley went on, “You mentioned that the medical examiner said that Howard only had one drink that evening. I called Robin, and she said the ME told the family that Howard had apparently been having petit mal seizures that he might not have even realized. She said the ME mentioned that his condition could account for his seeming to be drunk during dinner. Would that disorientation have been enough to make it easier for someone to knock him down and overpower him long enough to hold his head under the water until he drowned, all without leaving any signs of a struggle so that it appeared to be an accident?”

  Luna nodded. “I asked the same question, and the ME told me that she couldn't say for sure that that's what happened, but she indicated that the seizures could certainly cause him to be confused and even unaware of his surroundings. That probably did make it easier for the killer. If nothing else, it would have allowed him or her to knock Andrews out before he realized anything was happening.”

  Before Ashley or Mueller could respond, a knock sounded on the door, and a nurse poked his head into the room.

  “Excuse me, folks, sorry to interrupt,” the nurse said. “Sheriff, the receptionist said that you wanted to know when Graham Kelly regained consciousness. He's back with us, and he's coherent. We're about to take him up to a room on the third floor. You should be able to talk with him in about 5 minutes or so. He probably won't feel like talking for very long, though, you should probably be waiting in the hallway so you can talk to him as soon as we get him settled.”

  “Thanks, Earl,” Mueller replied. “We'll make our way up there now. What room will he be in?” The nurse gave them the information and closed the door behind himself as he went back to his patient. The two lawmen and Ashley walked to the elevator together.

  “Graham, it's good to see you're not lying down on the job anymore,” Ashley teased as they entered the man's room. She stepped up to the side of his bed and placed her hand on his arm. “Seriously, though, how are you feeling?”

  “Like I had a head-on collision—literally, my head—with a brick wall,” Graham responded. “My head is throbbing, but the doctor tells me that I only have a slight concussion. They want me to stay overnight since I live alone. After I tried to sit up on my own, I decided that letting someone else take care of me and bring me what I need for a few hours was a great idea. They tell me that I should be able to go home in the morning, and that the headache should be bearable in a day or two at the most.”

  Sheriff M
ueller spoke up. “Good to hear that you're going to be okay, Graham. You had us pretty worried when we found you in the garden. Do you feel up to telling us what you remember?”

  “Sure,” Graham said. “To cut to the chase, Chantelle Roth conked me over the head with a cobblestone that came loose from the pathway while her son, Rocky, held me.”

  “And what led up to that?” Detective Luna questioned.

  “Well, I kept thinking about the murder. I didn't know Howard Andrews super well, but I felt like I knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the kind of man to drive someone to murder. He could be unpleasant, but he wasn't that bad, and it was just words—he didn't do anything to anyone as far as I knew, didn't cause any actual loss or harm. So, I wondered if it was possible that he wasn't the intended victim. Then I thought, 'What if the murderer didn't care who he or she hurt? What if Estes Mount was the target, rather than Howard?’” He paused, reaching for the glass of water on the tray in front of him.

  After a sip, Graham continued. “I know that sounds a little arrogant, to think that the center or I would be that important to someone, but once that idea was in my head, things started to make more sense. I suspected that Chantelle set it up to make us look bad. I called her to come to the garden and to bring Rocky with her. When they got there, I confronted them with my suspicions.” He smiled wryly. “That might not have been the best idea I've ever had because, as soon as I accused them, they attacked me. The next thing I remember is waking up in the emergency room and hearing that I'd be a guest here overnight.”

  “Did the Roths say anything to you?” Luna asked. “Did either of them tell you what happened the day of the murder?”

  “No,” Graham said, “but I think I must have been right—or too close for them to take the chance that I'd talk to you. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for them to knock me out and try to get rid of me.”

  Nodding in agreement, the two lawmen thanked him, wished him well, and took their leave to head back to the sheriff’s office to question the suspects they'd taken into custody.

  Ashley stayed behind and visited with her friend for a few minutes, but it soon became obvious that Graham was tiring quickly. She told him that she and Ryan would check on him the next day, assuring him that, yes, she would bring the cookies he requested, and then she left the hospital.

  Circling back to Seagrass Sweets, she stopped in and updated Patty on the events of the afternoon.

  “They killed a man—a relative stranger, at least to the son—just to put Estes Mount out of business? Just because she blamed Graham for her own lousy business practices? They didn't even care who they killed? That's totally despicable and so cold-blooded!” Patty was aghast to think anyone could have so little regard for human life.

  “Yes,” Ashley said. “At least, that's the working theory at the moment. Graham and I are not entirely sure if they really planned for someone to die, but they did intend for whoever they encountered to be hurt badly enough to sue Graham and to cause Estes Mount to fail. And I'm not sure how they thought they'd get away with that. If whoever they attacked saw them, the victim would surely report them. There was definitely some crazy thinking in that plan! Detective Luna and the sheriff went back to the office to question the Roths. Hopefully, Robin and her family will have the answers they've been seeking by tonight or tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

  Stretching her back, Ashley asked, “What's left to do for this week's gigs? I can help finish up, and we can both get out of here and relax a little.”

  “Just need a couple more batches of cookies for Mrs. Jamison's tea party on Saturday. If you'll take care of the cardamom crescents, I'll do the lemon crisps.”

  Ashley agreed. She gathered flour, powdered sugar, pecans, butter, vanilla, ground cardamom, and ground cinnamon. She put the nuts and part of the sugar into the food processor. While waiting for them to get to a coarse meal texture, she checked her phone for messages. She was surprised that Ryan hadn't sent any messages that day. She hoped that didn't mean that he was still upset with her.

  After mixing the rest of the ingredients to form the cookie dough, Ashley talked to Patty about her relationship with Ryan while she formed little dough logs and curved them into crescents. Sliding the cookie sheets into the oven, she confessed that she was afraid that she was driving Ryan away with her insecurity.

  “Ashley Adams, you are most definitely being silly now,” Patty admonished. “You know that the two of you love one another. You can't figure out ahead of time what will happen if you do or if you do not move in together. And you won't have a promise that things would be different if you wait a few more months or longer. You have to move forward and trust the both of you. You will never be any more or any less sure of the future—personal or professional or anything else—than you are right now. This wishy-washy hand-wringing is not like you. You are a strong, capable woman, and it's time to act like it!”

  “Ouch,” Ashley said. “I know you're right. And I know that I'm being unrealistic, trying to find guarantees when those don't exist in life. I'm just scared, both of being hurt and, maybe even more, of hurting Ryan.”

  Patty didn't speak, but she raised one eyebrow and looked at Ashley.

  “Okay, I get it,” Ashley laughed as she put the cooled cookies in a transport box and covered them. “Yeah, I'm already hurting both of us. I need to decide, one way or the other, and I need to do it soon! But, you know, I'm so tired today. It was a horribly long and eventful day. I don't think it will hurt to wait one more night, but yes, I know I need to stop waffling and just do it—or not do it!”

  Just then, the business phone rang and Patty answered. “Hello, Sheriff Mueller. How are you this afternoon?” She listened for a moment then said, “Yes, Ashley is still here, and, of course, you may speak with her. Just one moment.”

  Patty handed the phone to Ashley. “This is Ashley. How may I help you, sheriff?” She pulled a stool over closer to the phone and took a seat.

  “After your help today, I think you deserve to hear this before it hits the grapevine,” the sheriff answered. “Chantelle Roth spilled everything, and her story matched up totally with your theory. She owns her home outright so moving her business and changing her residence would have cost her a fortune because it would have meant picking up a rent or mortgage payment, along with the costs of the move as well. She couldn't be sure that she could find a place close enough that her clients would follow her to a new location; she might or might not have been able to keep her business afloat, which was essential to making that rent payment and covering her living expenses. Rocky would have lost his inheritance since she would have had to use the money from selling the house to pay for her new place, so he was pretty motivated to make sure she got to stay put.”

  The Sheriff paused for breath before continuing, “They plotted together to put Estes Mount out of business although it was Rocky who actually killed Howard Andrews. He did it while the music was blasting away when Andrews left after the toasts. According to Rocky, Andrews came outside, seeming confused and intoxicated. Rocky pushed him off the path, and when he fell, he hit his head on a rock. Rocky dragged him to the fish pond, pushed Howard's head under the water, and held him there until he stopped breathing. Chantelle insists that she only told him to knock the person on the path out, and that it was all Rocky's idea to kill him, but I'm not buying it. I think she was there too and when she saw Mr. Andrews standing on the path decided that if he was dead, she wouldn't have to pay anything more to Andrews Construction.”

  “Have you told Robin and Cash yet?” Ashley asked.

  “Detective Luna and I are on the way to their place now,” the sheriff said. “We felt that this was news they should hear in person and not over the phone. Wait an hour or so before you call her if you would.”

  Ashley agreed and thanked him for updating her. After hanging up, she sighed tiredly.

  “Is everything okay?” Patty asked. “Has something else happened, something
more gone wrong?”

  “No,” Ashley said. “Sheriff Mueller was just updating me on what they found out. Chantelle and Rocky admitted to killing Howard Andrews. The sheriff says that she claims they were only going to knock someone out, but Rocky went too far. Mueller thinks that they probably would have stopped at that if it hadn't been Howard who came down the path. He said that Chantelle is under the impression that Howard's death wiped out her debt to his construction company. What a stupid, stupid reason for someone to die!”

  After they talked a little more about the case, they gathered their things together, locked the back door, and headed for home.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Hey, Dizzy,” Ashley greeted her companion wearily as she dragged herself into the cottage. “And just how was your day after Ryan brought you back home? Did you and Dash get to play for a while?”

  “Rowf!” Dizzy answered her, jumping up on the couch to snuggle. “Arr-rowf! Woof!” The dog gave Ashley a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheek before settling down so close that she nearly knocked Ashley off the couch.

  “Well, that's good to hear,” Ashley laughed. “I can tell you, I had a very eventful day, and I am exhausted. What do you say about a night of popcorn and movies with an early bedtime?”

  Dizzy whined as if agreeing to Ashley's plan, thumping the couch's arm with her tail. Ashley ran her hand along the dog's soft back while she thought about the day.

  “I wonder how Robin is doing tonight,” Ashley mused. “It must be a relief to know what happened, but I'm not sure if finding out that her uncle was just a chance victim will make it better or worse. I'll check on her tomorrow. I think she and her family need tonight to be together without having to deal with any outside interruptions. I guess they'll be able to schedule the funeral and the wedding now.”

  Ashley sat still, lost in her thoughts and too tired to go into the kitchen or even to reach for the TV remote. The house is too quiet, she thought. I wish there was someone here to talk over this day with me. She was drifting off to sleep when Dizzy suddenly sat up and barked.