Murder in Treasure Cove

by Meredith Potts

  “I know what you mean. You’ve been a really good friend to me over the years.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to take my advice?”

  “Look. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice of you to provide so many words of wisdom. At the same time, I have no plans to leave Treasure Cove.”

  “Why not?”

  “To start, I grew up here. Second, this town is a hotbed of activity. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

  “I agree about that second part. Things are rarely boring in this town.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “But to me, that’s just another reason why you should consider going elsewhere.”

  Brooke’s eyebrows knitted. “I don’t understand.”

  “If you stay here, you might find it hard to relax. There’s a good chance that you keep running around like your hair is on fire.”

  “You could be right. Or maybe I’ll be just fine.”

  “Perhaps. I just thought I’d throw that out there.”

  “I do appreciate the advice.”

  “Good. I really hope you give it some thought. I wish someone had told me something similar when I was a reporter. I had to find things out the hard way.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “The biggest shame of all is how much time I spent out in the field. It took me over fifteen years to get an anchor job at this station. If I had been open to moving to another city, I might have gotten to the anchor desk much sooner.”

  “Looking back, do you wish you had done things differently?”

  “A little.”

  Brooke’s eyes widened. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “I’m just being honest. And in the spirit of candor, let me tell you this. The view from the anchor desk is really nice.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “It’s actually so good that I don’t have any intention of leaving my position anytime soon. I’m going to be here for decades.”

  “Thanks for letting me know that.”

  “Does that change your mind at all?”

  “At the moment, no. But if I’ve learned anything from living in Treasure Cove all these years, it is that things can change quickly in this town.”

  Chapter Five

  When Brooke reached her car, she was in a state of shock. That conversation had come out of nowhere.

  That wasn’t the final surprising discussion that Brooke would end up having that morning. As she began to make her way over to the police station, she received a phone call. When she saw her mother’s name listed on the caller identification screen of her cell phone, she took the call immediately. It was incredibly rare for her mom to phone her in the middle of the day. When that took place, her mother usually had something important to say.

  Imagine Brooke’s surprise then when her mom was just calling to chat. For Brooke, that wasn’t an ideal situation. She wanted to save the chatting for later. She had important things to think about right then.

  Of course, getting her mother off of the phone was easier said than done. Especially when Brooke let the details of her conversation with Charlotte slip out.

  Brooke’s mom immediately made her opinion on the topic quite clear.

  “You know, it’s not a bad idea,” Isabel McDillon said.

  “What isn’t?” Brooke asked.

  “Getting a desk job…in a different city. Especially the part about being in a different city.”

  “It’s amazing how much you dislike Treasure Cove.”

  “What’s so amazing about that?”

  “You grew up here. You lived here for over sixty years.”

  “True.”

  “Yet whenever I bring up Treasure Cove, you have something bad to say about it.”

  “In my defense, it never used to be that way.”

  “You’re right. When you were living here, you had much better things to say about the place.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I have a lot of good memories. And I’ll cherish those until the day I die.”

  “I wish you would talk about those memories more.”

  “Brooke, you act like I’m trashing on Treasure Cove without good reason. The town has changed a lot over the years. Some really awful things have taken place there.”

  “I know.”

  “So, stop pretending like you’re so surprised that I moved away from Treasure Cove when I retired. The way things ended left a really bad taste in my mouth.”

  “You know what? Why don’t we talk about something else?” Brooke suggested.

  “You can try to change the subject all that you want, but it’s not going to work. A move could be really good for you. I worry about you.”

  “Mom, there’s no need to worry.”

  Isabel laughed. “What a ridiculous thing to say to a mom. It’s impossible for me to stop worrying about you. It just comes with the territory. One day, you’ll understand.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Trust me. When you become a mother, certain truths about life become abundantly clear.”

  “I’m not arguing with that. I was actually commenting on how certain you are that I’ll be a mother one day.”

  “What are you implying?”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m not sure that I’m going to have kids.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t want to hear that.”

  “Look. With all the stress that comes with my job, I’m just not sure that it would be wise to bring a child into this world. I mean, you know that my job comes first.”

  “All the more reason to switch jobs.”

  “Oh no, here we go again.”

  “Let me finish. I’m not suggesting that you work in finance. Or something of that nature. You could always become a news anchor. In fact, that’s something great to strive for.”

  “You don’t think I know how great it would be to have a job as an anchor? Because let me tell you something. That’s my dream.”

  “Then pursue it.”

  “That’s easier said than done in a town like this.”

  “Which brings me back to my original point. Leaving Treasure Cove might be the best thing for you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that part.”

  “Why not?”

  “This is my home. I grew up here. How could I just pick up and leave?”

  “I did.”

  “I still question that decision.”

  “I don’t…ever,” Isabel said.

  “Can you honestly tell me that you don’t miss Treasure Cove at all?” Brooke asked.

  “There are some things I miss.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But I don’t miss anything enough to want to move back.”

  “What a shame.”

  “Face it. The Treasure Cove you’re living in right now just isn’t for me. I’m happy that I live in Whistling Falls.”

  “All right. Fair enough.”

  “Let’s get back to you—”

  “Let’s not,” Brooke said.

  “Are you really going to keep avoiding the subject?”

  “No. It’s just that I have a press conference to attend. I really do have to go.”

  “All right. I won’t keep you then,” Isabel said. “Take care of yourself.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter Six

  Not surprisingly, the murder investigation was the biggest news story in town. It didn’t matter that the killer was in custody. There was still plenty to report on.

  In Brooke’s experience, the public had an insatiable appetite for news about murder cases. They wanted information about the victim, the killer, the investigation, and everything in between.

  Frankly, as long as she was able to dig up new content, she could run a story on the investigation for the next few weeks. Not just that. Most likely, those stories would leadoff the news broadcast.

  There were very few exceptions to that rule. One
of them was if a natural disaster occurred. The other unique scenario was if another murder took place. While that would be wild, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. It had happened before. It could certainly happen again.

  In the meantime, Brooke’s assignment was to head over to the police station. Detective David Carlson was holding a press conference about the investigation. In Brooke’s experience, those conferences were fairly brief. The detective had no patience for nonsense. He would often read from a prepared statement. Or give a dry accounting of the facts. Rarely did he volunteer any additional information.

  It was also a mystery as to whether he would field any questions. On occasion, he did. Other times, not so much. More often than not, he seemed to be in a hurry to leave the podium. It was clear that he did not enjoy speaking to the press. Honestly, if it wasn’t part of his job, he probably wouldn’t go anywhere near the briefing room.

  As a reporter, that wasn’t the ideal situation for Brooke. Her job was to get as much information as possible. The odds were certainly stacked against her.

  Granted, she realized that there were some details that could not be openly revealed to the press. Or to the public. On the flip side, when the conference ended, she always felt like the detective had withheld more information than he needed to. That he had been too guarded.

  It was frustrating spending the majority of her time trying to get the detective to reveal details that he didn’t want to. But it was even more frustrating to fail miserably.

  That morning, the detective gave the press very little to work with. In fact, Brooke didn’t learn anything about the case at the conference that she didn’t already know. When the conference ended, the detective looked anxious to leave the room.

  Before he made an exit, Brooke managed to catch up with him.

  “Detective, can I have a word with you?” Brooke asked.

  Detective David Carlson stared Brooke down.

  “Brooke, I have nothing more to say about the investigation,” David replied.

  “This isn’t about the investigation,” Brooke said.

  David’s face filled with confusion. “It isn’t?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then what’s it about?”

  “I was wondering if you could talk to your wife for me.”

  “About what?”

  “I want to interview her.”

  “That’s something you’ll need to talk to her about.”

  “I did.”

  “What did she say?”

  “No.”

  “That’s settled then.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “Brooke, if my wife said no then the answer is no.”

  “I think your wife has the wrong idea about me. I’m not looking to portray her in a bad light. This wouldn’t be an interview slamming her. It would be highly complementary.”

  “Let’s take a step back for a minute. Why are you so interested in interviewing my wife?”

  “She’s done some amazing things. She’s made a big difference in this town. And almost no one in this town knows about it. To me, that’s just wrong. Don’t you think that she deserves some credit?”

  “She doesn’t care about getting credit.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I know my wife.”

  “Look. If she really doesn’t want to give an interview, I’ll drop it. I just don’t think there’s any harm in talking to her.”

  David took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll run it by her.”

  “Thanks.”

  David put his hand up. “I can’t promise anything.”

  “I understand.”

  Chapter Seven

  After leaving the police station, Brooke headed over to Ridgeway Drive. That was where Max Bolton lived. Or, at least, where he used to reside before he was arrested for murder.

  Why was Brooke there exactly?

  Simple. She wanted to interview some of Max’s neighbors. She was interested to see what they had to say about everything that had transpired recently. Not just related to Max’s arrest, but also what it had been like to live next to him. Had there been any warning signs? Did the neighbors have any crazy stories? Were there any odd encounters to relay?

  Brooke was determined to find out.

  All told, Brooke interviewed three different sets of neighbors that afternoon. Even though the neighbors were quite different people, their responses to Brooke’s questions were surprisingly similar. A typical interview went this way.

  “What was your reaction when you found out that Max had been arrested?” Brooke asked.

  “I was shocked,” the interviewee responded.

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. I couldn’t believe the news. I thought there had been a big mistake.”

  “Why?” Brooke asked.

  “It just didn’t seem like it was possible.”

  “Any particular reason why?”

  “Max just didn’t seem like the type of person who would murder anyone.”

  “So, there were no signs that something was wrong with him?”

  The interviewee shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “You had no clue that he had a screw loose then?”

  “Nope. He was always so nice.”

  “Does that mean you never saw him lose his cool?”

  “Not once.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I just can’t wrap my head around it. How could he have done something so terrible?”

  At that point, Brooke asked the interviewee a number of additional questions, but she didn’t end up getting any juicy details.

  ***

  When Brooke was done conducting the interviews, she headed back to the news van. Mark Dickenson was packing up his camera equipment. Once the van was packed up, Mark got into the driver’s seat and pulled away.

  While Brooke sat in the passenger-side of the van, she stared out the window, deep in thought.

  “Are you okay?” Mark asked.

  “Not really,” Brooke said.

  “Why not? What’s the matter?”

  “Those interviews.”

  Mark shrugged. “What about them?”

  “Who did those people think they were fooling? Do they really expect me to believe that they had no clue about Max having a screw loose?”

  “You think they know more than they let on?”

  “How could they not?”

  “Some people aren’t all that observant. And other people are so caught up in their own lives that they barely notice what’s going on with the people around them.”

  “True. That does happen from time to time.”

  “You don’t buy it this time, though?”

  “I’ll just say this. Their answers were all incredibly similar.”

  “You don’t believe they all got together and agreed to give the same pre-planned answers, do you?”

  Brooke shook her head. “No. I just think that Max’s neighbors all happen to be living in denial. I’ve seen it before. In fact, it’s incredibly common with cases like this. It’s amazing how often people don’t want to admit the truth.”

  “To be fair, in this case, the truth is really grim.”

  “I hear you. But would it kill them to be honest? It would sure be refreshing instead of getting the same old answers.”

  “There’s another option. Maybe they are honest with themselves, but they’re just not willing to admit the truth in a TV interview.”

  “You could be right.”

  “What if the shoe was on the other foot? Just say one of your neighbors committed murder. And a reporter came by to ask you questions. What do you think your answers would be?”

  “I would tell the truth.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. You know me. I’m a straight shooter. I call things the way I see them.”

  “You certainly do.”

  “I actually think I’d give a great interview. Not only
am I incredibly honest. But I’m also very observant. For example, I’ve met some serious psychopaths in my life. If one of them snapped and did something crazy, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least.”

  “Wow. You’re really being blunt today.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? Now, how about you? Haven’t you met some real nutcases in the past?” Brooke asked.

  Mark nodded.

  “See. That’s what I’m saying,” Brooke replied. “I just wish our interviewees would behave the same way.”

  “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

  “Probably not. But imagine how great it would have been if one of those neighbors had said, ‘I knew something was wrong with Max. There was just something about him that was off. That didn’t sit right with me. I felt like he was a powder keg, ready to explode at any moment.’”

  “That would certainly be different.”

  “It would. But it didn’t pan out that way. Instead, the most I got out of them was an admission that Max was a quiet guy who liked to keep to himself.”

  Mark chuckled. “We did hear that response a lot today.”

  “Too much.”

  “Look. I know you wanted more out of those interviews, but I still think we got some good footage.”

  “I’m sure we did. We should be able to cobble together a compelling news story.”

  “I’ll bet we will.”

  “We’re going to find out soon enough. We’ll be back at the station soon.”

  Chapter Eight

  Brooke and Mark did put together an interesting story for that evening’s broadcast. Things changed the following day, however.

  After being able to run story after story about the murder investigation, Brooke finally hit a brick wall. What was the problem exactly? There were just no new angles to tackle. No new details to report on. As far as she could tell, there was nothing new to say about the case. At least, not right then. Perhaps with a little digging, the situation would change. If only Brooke knew where to dig.

  Honestly, it wouldn’t take much to be able to do a follow up story. Sometimes all it took was one small piece of information. Until one became available, she couldn’t rehash her older material. The producer didn’t want to run with a stale story either.