Candace McCauley, P.I Mysteries (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection)

by Kira Reese

  “Hi, can I help you?” The voice came from one of the stalls. A petite woman with blond hair the color of cotton peeked at me from around a very large horse.

  “I am looking for the owner of the stables,” I said.

  “That would be me,” she said. “I’m Meg Hagen.”

  I introduced myself. When I did, Meg’s eyes opened wide.

  “I hope you are here to ride and not investigate me,” she said.

  I assured her I was here to get information in regard to a case of mine. She told me to come with her and we entered a small building between the barn area and a ranch-style home. I could see it was attached to the home by an open breezeway.

  “This is my office and it is cooler in here,” she said.

  She gestured for me to sit in a wicker rocker. After offering me a cold drink, which I accepted, she sat across from me in a similar chair. I caught a better glimpse of the owner of Iron Cowgirl. It was difficult to look away from her cobalt-blue eyes. A shade lighter and they would have matched the sky that day. She wrapped a slender hand around her glass of iced water and waited for me to begin. I carefully formed my message to her.

  “Have you heard about the death of one of your customers?” I asked.

  She looked up quickly with questioning eyes. “I didn’t catch the morning news. I had a mare having trouble giving birth early this morning. Who was it?”

  “Her name was Janet Dubois. I believe she often rode out here?”

  The tanned face turned white. The glass slipped and she held it with two hands. “What happened to her?” asked Meg. “She was out here two days ago and healthy as ever.”

  I gently told her how Janet had died. “It happened sometime last night. The police are on top of it. Her brother hired me to also look into it, and right now I am locating anyone associated with her. The more I find out about her life and friends, the more I learn which way to go with it all.”

  Meg told me Janet began riding less than a year ago. She was a beginner but took to it easily. “I think she found a therapeutic value in riding horses and couldn’t get enough of it. She was studying at the community college to learn hospitality. I knew she worked at a diner and figured she was having a hard time making a go of things.” Meg’s eyes misted. “She wanted to ride so much that I gave her a discount. We became friends. The friendship revolved around horses.”

  We chatted a few minutes longer and then I asked her if she knew Marian and Benny Lodge. She told me she knew they owned the café where Janet worked, but other than that, she did not know them.

  “Was there anyone in particular she liked to ride with when she was here?”

  “She definitely preferred to ride alone. Of course, at first she rode with either me or with Nancy, one of my trainers. The last few months she didn’t need us. She was a natural when it came to horses.”

  “Does anyone come to mind who may have wanted to harm her?”

  Meg shook her head adamantly. “I can’t think of anyone. She always had a smile for everyone, whether she knew them or not.”

  I gave Meg one of my cards and told her to call if she thought of anything that would help me. I started to open my car door when Meg called to me.

  “Where was she found?” she asked.

  “In an alley on the lower east side,” I said.

  The look on her face was one of horror at the news. “What was she doing way down there?”

  “That is one of the unknowns,” I said. “Can you think of any reason?”

  “Miss McCauley, I do not know anyone personally who would venture down to that part of the city. It is not the best area of New York.”

  I agreed with her and told her to call me Candace. She smiled a half smile and told me she would call if she thought of anything else. I drove away from the peaceful setting and imagined Janet riding in the winds on the back of a horse. Meg mentioned the therapeutic part of riding. Did Janet Dubois ride to clear her mind of something in particular, or of someone?

  Chapter 3

  Back at the Café

  The day was ending. By this time, Natalie and Evelyn were on their way home. I thought about Nick. Nick Adams and I shared our home and bed in a pleasant tree-lined neighborhood. It was a mix of small families and singles. Our one retired neighbor lived in the home that he and his wife built long ago. Nick was successful in real estate. His handsome looks accentuated by reddish-blond hair and very athletic body were the envy of everyone who saw us together. His passion, other than me, was his constant search to top one of his recipes for grilling. He was a teaser, but managed to switch from playful to serious when he needed to.

  When I came through the door, the aroma of dinner reached me. I knew how to cook, but since it was his love, I had no problem handing that task over to him. I excelled in making salads and pouring wine to accompany whatever he chose to cook. Changing seasons did not matter to Nick when it came to that grill. I had seen him more than once trudge through two feet of drifted snow to reach his baby at the edge of the patio.

  “Candy, welcome home,” he said. The long fork in his hand now rested on the shelf at the end of the barbeque as he bent around to kiss me. I had a hard time distinguishing whether the warmth was from the heat of the meat or his kiss on my lips.

  “It smells good,” I said. “What are we having tonight?”

  My mouth watered when I looked at the sizzling pork chops and something wrapped in foil at one end.

  “Besides the chops, I am trying a new take on salmon. You can tell me what you think after you taste it.”

  I looked forward to it. Grilled salmon was a favorite. I went inside and poured wine. Handing him a glass of Chardonnay, I sat down with him in our bistro chairs. The roasted veggies looked as good as everything else.

  “I suppose I should have brought white and red wine out since we have the pork chops, too.”

  His laughing eyes teased me, and I knew he was not particular when it came to white or red wine with certain food. “It depends on what you want to drink,” he said. “I did enough salmon for tasting. If you like it, I’ll do a full meal with it next time.”

  While we ate we discussed our days. “I sold a house today,” he said. “The man wants an office building, too. They are clients referred to me by someone I sold to before.”

  I congratulated him, and after my first bite of the sample salmon, I told him in glowing terms that it was a winner.

  His eyes radiated with pride. “Do you have leads yet in your new case?” he asked.

  “It’s too early for that, but there is already a mystery about it. Janet Dubois was found far from her home. The few I’ve interviewed are very surprised she was in that area at all. The alley where a homeless woman discovered her body is in the less desirable part of the lower east side of New York.” I took a sip of wine. “I will have the full police report tomorrow. I don’t have particulars of her actual death, except for sketchy details in the paper.”

  We finished our dinner and the cleanup. Nestled on the couch in our living room, Nick suddenly stood up. “Come on,” he said, “after that meal we need to walk it off.”

  The air was breezy and cool. A few stars dotted the night sky. We greeted a few walkers and moved along in perfect harmony. I loved walks with Nick. I loved doing anything with him, for that matter. When we arrived back at our front door, he took my hand and we headed for the bedroom. The connection between us superseded anything I could imagine. Tonight I did not think of anything or anyone except the man I loved. For me, there was nothing else.

  ***

  By the time morning arrived, I was ready to get into earnest with the case of Janet Dubois’s murder. I called my friend Detective Ben Jones at the precinct and told him Janet’s brother hired me to look into the case for him.

  “I wonder why he called you in this early,” said Ben.

  “I asked him the same question. He told me he is hoping that with me looking into it, along with the police, it will be solved sooner.”

&nbs
p; We chatted briefly about the case. Neither of us wanted to give information to the other this early. Though I did ask for the report of how Janet was found and the description of her clothing. He agreed to fax it to my office.

  “Do you have the cause of death?” I asked.

  “We’ll have a full report no later than tomorrow; possibly this afternoon.”

  Ben Jones worked well with me, and I realized he often accommodated me with information more than he would for most private investigators. He was a few years older but we grew up in the same neighborhood, so we knew each other from childhood. There was trust between us.

  I went to the front of the office and told Evelyn to look for a fax from the precinct. “Let me know right away when it comes, please,” I said.

  Evelyn Foster was forty-five years old, proficient and neat in appearance. On her desk, I could expect to see a different bouquet of flowers from her garden daily during season. Next to her fifteen-year-old son, gardening consumed her life outside the office. Today, the stemmed lilies added beauty to the room.

  A few minutes later, Evelyn handed me the report from the detective. I read it twice and leaned back in my chair. The description of Janet Dubois’s body and her clothing went to another dimension in my mind. She was curled in a fetal position as if fighting off the pain of a slow death, or someone placed her that way after killing her. She wore her server uniform from Benny’s Café. Blood blended in with the white shirt, causing it to look tie-dyed. One tan pant leg was ripped at the knee. Several manicured nails were broken. Tangled long black hair swept across her blood-splattered face. The report said she was stabbed multiple times. A homeless woman who refused to provide her name found the body. She hurried to the small grocery a block down and told them to call the police. She disappeared and had not been seen at the time of the initial report.

  I went next door to my office and asked Natalie if she would take a look at the report.

  “What do you think at first glance?” I asked her.

  “I think she fought for her life,” she said.

  I agreed and told my protégé that it was a mystery why she was so far from home and work. I had many more interviews to do, but so far no one believed she was into drugs. That eliminated one cause of death for the moment.

  “Which case are you into right now?” I asked.

  Natalie told me she had not given up on the case of the missing teenager, Courtney Hanson, but at the moment was concentrating on a case regarding a local break-in at a small floral shop. A window was smashed in back and the burglar reached through the hole to unlock the back door. He or she was not interested in flowers. Cash was missing from a secured desk drawer in the office. This case was one that Natalie could handle by herself.

  We both returned to our desks and I read the entire report once again. I called Ben and asked if Janet’s name tag was on her clothes when she was found. He told me there was no tag found. That was not significant, since she probably took it off when she left work. Then I dialed Benny’s Café and asked for Benny. He agreed to meet with me later that afternoon. Marian had gone into the city and would not be back until after closing. At the appointed time, I headed for the café.

  “I have been thinking about Janet ever since we got the news of her death. I still can’t believe she is dead,” said Benny. His puffy eyes told me the news remained as devastating as when he first heard it. “Marian and I have tried to come up with anyone who would want to do such a thing to that girl. Our customers loved her and most knew her well.”

  “I know you told me she would not get into drugs. I believe you, but do you think someone was trying to sell to her and she refused?”

  “I had not thought of that. She came in every day, as usual.” He stopped and a look of shock crossed his face. “Wait a minute. About a week ago she told another server she thought someone was stalking her when she left work. Sheila told me about it, and I made sure someone escorted her to her car when she closed late.”

  “Did she know who it was?” I asked.

  “According to Sheila, Janet told her she did not see anyone, just had the feeling of unease. I brought Janet into my office and asked her about it. She shrugged it off as if it were nothing. She refused to go to the police, since she felt she could be imagining things.”

  “Who escorted her to her car the last time?” I asked. I knew she finished at the café the night she was murdered.

  Benny dipped his head and covered his face with his hands. He shook his head back and forth. “The night she was killed, she closed by herself. Jim Bosley is a dishwasher here. He finished up and she was tallying her tickets. He offered to wait for her, but she insisted she was fine and he should go on home.” Benny shook his head again. “Jim has two small children and his wife is a nurse’s aide. She goes to work at eleven, and he had to get home to take care of the children so she could get to work on time. He is very despondent about Janet’s death and blames himself.”

  “I can understand that. I’m sure he regrets not waiting for her.” Benny nodded.

  After asking which shifts Jim Bosley worked, I made a note to come back the next day mid-morning. He would be taking his morning break.

  Chapter 4

  The Alley

  On my way home from work I assessed information I found regarding Janet Dubois. There was no record of arrests or anything negative about her life. Her brother told me he doubted she was into drugs. He stated they both saw enough of that in the two homes they grew up in. He was unbending when I told him that, since he rarely saw her, she may have gotten herself into trouble with a drug dealer without him knowing.

  “She would never use drugs, Miss McCauley. That is the last avenue you should be looking at,” he said. “It’s true I did not see her often, but I would have known. She told me just about everything about her life that interested her. I admit it was mostly about her hobbies. She loved to go out to a riding stable where she learned to ride horses. She rode as often as weather permitted. She told me about her job, too, of course.”

  I asked if he minded if I took a look around her apartment.

  “The police have searched the place,” he said, “but you are welcome to come whenever you want. I will be here for the next week or so, at least. I’ll stick around longer, if needed.”

  There was no reason to doubt Jon’s affection for his sister, but he did not appear all that upset over her death. He could be in shock, I told myself. I knew that some people had a way of going into denial when hearing devastating news. I told him I would let him know before I came to the apartment.

  ***

  When I pulled into my driveway I was glad to see Nick beat me home.

  I walked through the house to the back patio, following my nose to the grilling steaks. He leaned over and kissed me with lingering lips until we parted. I noticed a notepad on the bistro table.

  “It looks like you are creating the winning recipe for your barbeque sauce,” I said.

  “I plan to win this year’s competition, Candy. You can look it over, but if you pass my secrets to my competitors, do not expect to live,” he said.

  Sapphire eyes sparkled with humor, though the thought crossed my mind that he probably meant what he said. This was his third year to compete in the festival to raise money for a local shelter for abused women and children. Last year he managed to come in second for his homemade sauce. For Nick, it may as well have been last. He was out to win, or nothing.

  “How much are they charging this year?” I asked him.

  “At the gate, everyone pays twenty dollars to taste anything they want. Then they pay for food they want to buy. I believe we are up to nineteen competitors this year.”

  “You are the best,” I said. “I’m counting on you to win this one.”

  I went inside to bring dishes of potato salad and wine out for our dinner. I discussed my latest case. We chatted about possible reasons Janet Dubois was far from her neighborhood in a dark alley, and lifeless. At this point, there w
asn’t much to go on.

  “I have some computer work to do tonight, Candy. Do you want me to put a good movie in for you?”

  “I’ll thumb through and find a good one,” I said. “Why don’t you get started and I’ll do cleanup tonight.”

  “Sure, and you will hold that over my head every chance you get,” said Nick.

  He stood and carried in a stack of empty dishes to the kitchen. I laughed and told him if he didn’t help, he would just have a guilty conscience about it. Once things were in order, Nick headed for his computer and I sifted through movies. I loved the classics. Nick watched them with me, but there was no doubt they were not his forte. I tried to pick one when he wasn’t joining me. Tonight I chose the musical Oklahoma. I was into the concept of country life this evening; I guess it stemmed from my visit to the Iron Cowgirl Stables.

  ***

  The first thing on my agenda the next day was to call Jonathan Dubois. “Who is Janet’s power of attorney?” I asked.

  “We were each other’s.”

  “I would like to have access to her banking habits. For example, her deposits and sources, as well as where her money went.”

  He readily agreed to get that for me. “It will be a day or so. I am planning her funeral today. As soon as her body is released, the funeral time and day will be known. Tomorrow will be spent looking into her life insurances and things like that.”

  I told him I understood and to call me as soon as I could get access. I didn’t tell him it may be several days before her body was released.

  I drove by her apartment and then to her workplace. The distance was too long to walk there, but a short drive. From there, I drove to the lower east side to the alley where her body had been discovered by the homeless woman. That distance was definitely out of Janet’s neighborhood. The tall buildings were of worn brick for the most part. Every once in a while, a cracked piece landed at the edge of the narrow streets. A few stores were boarded up; others doing business had bars on windows.