Tarte Tatin Murder: A Seagrass Sweets Cozy Mystery (Book 2)

by Sandi Scott

  “I saw him before he went to play; he was wearing the same clothes when he got back. I'll give Sheriff Mueller a call and tell him that.”

  As they turned back toward the cottage, she asked, “How about the GPS tracking? Have you been able to get a hit on where Charlie was that afternoon?”

  “No, I had some problems, and it's taking longer than it should have. I did access Green's emails, though; I thought maybe there would be something there that might help.” He looked irritated.

  “Was there anything helpful there?” It couldn’t have been too incriminating, or he would have already mentioned it.

  “Not really; it was all pretty ordinary and boring, except one. Some guy named Jordan Berg sent a threatening note.”

  “Who's Jordan Berg?”

  “According to some social media sites, he's Wendy Graham's fiancé, and he blames their relationship problems on Green. I figured we'd want to talk to him, so I also found out he plays baseball every Saturday morning, about this time—on those new fields about a half-mile from here.” Ryan looked pleased with himself.

  “Let's go, then! There's no time like the present to find out what he knows.” She was surprised by how excited she was about the idea of confronting the man. “Come on, Dizzy, we're going for a ride.” The dog's ears perked up, and she started hauling Ashley across the lawn and toward the cars parked in the driveway. “Ride” was one of her favorite words, right behind “treat” and “walk,” and she wasn't going to waste any time getting it started.

  They got to the field just as the game was ending, and Ryan was able to identify Jordan, who was packing up his equipment, from a picture he'd found online. They introduced themselves and asked if he had a few minutes to talk.

  “What's this about? I have to meet my fiancée in a couple of hours, and I need to clean up first, but I guess I can spare a few minutes.” Jordan looked puzzled.

  “We'd like to ask you some questions about Oliver Green,” Ashley replied.

  The change in Berg's demeanor was immediate. “I barely knew the guy,” he said, his voice curt. “Wendy worked with him, but we didn't socialize with him. I only met him a few times at CURE dinners and stuff. I don't guess I've talked to him more than five minutes altogether.”

  He didn’t look at either of them, and Ashley felt sure he was hiding something, something they needed to know.

  “We've seen the threatening email you sent to him,” Ryan stated. “You expressed some pretty strong feelings against someone you say you barely knew. You said you'd make him sorry for what he'd done, and that he'd wish he'd never been born. What did he do to make you so angry?”

  “I didn't threaten him; I was just telling him—oh, damn! Okay, I did send that threatening message, but I never intended to do any of what I said there; in fact, I didn't really have anything specific in mind—just ’make you sorry’ and that kind of thing. It's just—well, Wendy suddenly postponed our wedding. She said it was because the clinical trials are at such a critical point and the stress of trying to handle that and plan a wedding was too much, but I know it's because of Green. He was too friendly with her; I'm sure they've been having an affair.” A vein was popping out on the side of Jordan’s head, and his hands were fisted tightly at his sides. He was clearly harboring a lot of resentment and fury.

  “What makes you so sure?” Ashley asked. “From all accounts, Dr. Green was giving your fiancée a lot of unwanted attention. No one has suggested she did more than tolerate it — in fact, they say she rejected every advance he made. Maybe she was just trying to get along with her colleague long enough to finish their project on time.”

  He shook his head. “No. There was more to it than that. I found—” He sighed deeply and covered his eyes. “I spied on her; I started tracking her using a Find My Phone app and she was spending so many late nights at the lab. I figured out her security PIN and, one day while she was in the shower, I took her phone and read her texts.” He pulled out his phone to show them a screen shot of the texts. “I’m not proud of what I did, but check out what I found.”

  Wendy: We can't just act on our feelings so quickly.

  Oliver: We have to. I can't live like this, with these lies.

  Wendy: I need some time to think about it. All that we've built together is at stake.

  Oliver: I will give you until Wednesday afternoon. After that, I'm taking things into my own hands and telling them everything.

  Berg shuddered, tears filling his eyes. “What else could it mean except that they were having an affair, and he wanted her to break it off with me?”

  It certainly looked that way. Maybe Blake in the lab had misread the signals between Green and Wendy Berg; maybe they were having an affair and trying to find the courage to tell her fiancé and their colleagues. Still, there was something about the wording that bothered Ashley, if she could just figure out what.

  Ryan asked, “Where were you during the time when Dr. Green was killed?”

  “I was supposed to be picking up Wendy at the club so we could go out for an early dinner, but I was about 30 minutes late. I stopped to pick up some flowers for her, and it took longer than I expected.”

  Ashley wished it shocked her more to discover that a seemingly nice guy like Berg would spy on his fiancée, but she had seen so much worse. Heck, she had done so much worse. She brushed aside those thoughts and thanked him for his time.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ryan texted her that evening. “How about a road trip? Let's go to Corpus—aquarium, then horseback ride on beach?”

  “Sounds great! Come for lunch here first about 11.”

  Dizzy must have been tired, because she didn't wake Ashley the next morning until after eight. Ashley looked up at the soft woof and smiled. Stretching, she looked around the comfortable room, with its antique iron bedstead, topped by a quilt handmade by her great-grandmother. She loved the log cabin pattern made from worn clothes and other household fabrics; it was fun to find scraps she recognized and pull up the memories associated with them.

  A louder bark brought Ashley out of the bed, and they went into the warm farm kitchen. She loved her cozy cottage, but she adored the kitchen, with its painted concrete countertops, farm-style sink and bright yellow glass-fronted cabinets filled with bright Fiestaware plates and bowls. She'd found a vintage stove and refrigerator that gave the homey room a 1940s look and rounded out the décor with an old-style dinette set, complete with metal strip around the edge of the table and Formica tabletop. The wide bay window sported ruffled calico curtains, and the walls and countertops showed off her collection of hen and rooster prints and figurines. The only anomaly was her top-of-the-line coffee maker on the counter, looking something like the dashboard of a spaceship.

  While the coffee brewed, Ashley slipped into the bathroom, smiling as usual at the painted clawfoot bathtub. She and Patty once spent a silly evening of wine, pastries, and paint creating the whimsical garden on its side, complete with wildflowers, garden gnomes, and little animals and lizards peeking from behind leaves and fronds. After a quick shower, she dressed for the trip in worn jeans, a black tank top, and rich mahogany-colored boots, taking a long-sleeved silver button-down shirt and a San Antonio Spurs cap for sun protection, before getting her first cup of coffee.

  “C'mon, Dizzy—let's go outside,” she called. The dog raced to the French doors at the back of the open living area, nearly colliding with them in her eagerness to get to the backyard. Laughing, Ashley let them both out onto the wide veranda covering the whole length of the cottage and settled into her rocking chair to look out over her beautifully landscaped yard. By the rear picket fence separating her place from the beach, ruby-red tomatoes, bright green bell peppers, and deep purple Japanese eggplant filled raised beds. Eggplant Parmesan and a fresh salad for lunch, she thought. Scattered around the rest of the space, colorful wave petunias, zinnias, daylilies, and begonias spilled from galvanized watering troughs and wash tubs, while potted hibiscus plants and plumeria trees fini
shed out the tropical feeling.

  Finally, she gathered herself and headed inside. After quickly sweeping and mopping the living area's floors and running a dust cloth over the bookshelves and shabby chic furnishings, she went into the kitchen to prepare lunch. As she sliced the eggplant, grated mozzarella and Parmesan cheese, and diced tomatoes, bell peppers, cucumbers, and red onions, she started to consider the murder case, but her thoughts soon turned to Ryan and their relationship. They’d shared a cubicle at SmithCorp after college, where they quickly began commiserating over their dead-end IT jobs. Although Ryan was involved with his college girlfriend, they were several hours apart, so he and Ashley spent a lot of time exploring new restaurants, catching the latest movies, and doing other “date” types of things without pursuing any deeper relationship. Ryan eventually called it quits with his girlfriend, but Ashley had already fallen for Serge and his charms. She still saw Ryan at work and occasionally went to lunch with him, but it seemed any romance between them was unlikely.

  As she dredged the sliced eggplant in breadcrumbs and put it under the broiler, she thought about her last birthday at SmithCorp. Stirring the marinara sauce simmering on the back burner, she looked at her sweet pet and sighed.

  “Oh, Diz, I made so many mistakes. I remember that day, though; Ryan and I got back to the office, and the first thing I saw was that vase of gorgeous pink roses on my desk. I didn't know who had sent them, but I had the strangest feeling as I watched Ryan's face.” The dog cocked her head to the side, as if listening, and then she stood up on her hind legs to offer her mistress comforting doggy kisses.

  Ashley smiled at her dog before she continued to think aloud. “My chest felt like a balloon, inflating more and more with each breath. I think I wanted those flowers to be from Ryan even then, but I couldn't admit it. It felt like that balloon popped inside of me when I looked at the card and saw Serge's signature. I hadn't seen or heard from him in several weeks, and his mysterious charisma was wearing off. For the rest of that day, I wanted to bite someone's head off for the rest of the day. Then I made the worst mistakes of all, and I never found out how Ryan felt.”

  She pulled the tender eggplant out of the oven and topped it with the fresh marinara, some mozzarella and Parmesan, then popped it back into the oven to melt the cheese. As she layered tomato slices, basil leaves, and fresh mozzarella slices, drizzling them with balsamic vinegar, the doorbell rang, cutting off her reminiscing.

  “Hey, Ryan. Lunch will be ready in just a couple of minutes; I only need to heat the bread, and we can eat. How about a glass of tea while you wait?”

  “That sounds great. It's pretty warm out there, but it's supposed to cool down some this evening, so it should be comfortable riding on the beach. Hi, Dizzy—how's my girl?” Ryan reached down to scratch between the excited pup’s ears.

  They rehashed what they had learned while they ate.

  “I talked to Adam Luna,” Ryan reported. “He's the detective in charge of the case. He said Uncle Charlie was feeling pretty rough, but he's coherent again. They're still holding him, waiting for the test results on the golf clubs and clothes. He did tell me that, based on the autopsy, he doesn't think a club was the murder weapon; he thinks Green was hit with something heavier. I'm still not sure if he's looking for other suspects, but I think he may be open to hearing if we find anything that does point elsewhere.”

  “Well, that's a start. I found out yesterday that Green wasn't very popular at the lab or at the club. He was arrogant and rude, and he hit on just about every female he met. I also found out that Javier Ortiz, the club manager, was missing about the time of the murder—apparently he had a melt-down and was sent home for a few days of bereavement leave. And night before last, Patty and I overheard a conversation about the possibility that Green had a gambling problem and might have stolen money from the CURE accounts. We don't have any definite suspects yet, but we do have a few more leads. Maybe we should have another talk with the detective?”

  Ryan agreed and called while Ashley put their dishes into the dishwasher. “Luna's at the station and says he could spare a few minutes to talk with us.”

  “Let's go, then. I've got some cookies left from yesterday's tea party; we'll take those to smooth the way.”

  Detective Luna met them in the station lobby. After greeting them, he invited them into a small conference room near the public area. “We'll be more comfortable here. My office is about the size of a small closet, and my partner is interviewing a witness to another case in there, anyway. So what can I do for you today?”

  Ryan signaled for Ashley to start things off, so she took a deep breath. “We've learned some things related to the Oliver Green murder that we think you should know and might not have heard yet.” She paused, nervous about the detective's reaction; so far, his face hadn't changed, giving them no clue to what he was thinking.

  “I found out that Dr. Green was pretty unpopular; the staff at the golf club said that he was rude to most of them and that he sexually harassed the female staff members. The intern at the lab said that Green was obnoxious there, too, and that the women in the lab were tired of his constant come-ons. Then, the night before last, my partner and I were catering dinner for one of the CURE board members, and we overheard him saying that someone had been embezzling CURE's money. He said that Oliver Green was rumored to have a gambling problem and that, as the group's treasurer, he would have easy access to the funds. Maybe some husband or boyfriend lost it when Dr. Green hit on his fiancée or girlfriend, or maybe he owed someone dangerous a lot of money and couldn't pay it back. The point is, a lot of people other than Charles Brady had plenty of motive for wanting the man dead.”

  “Is that it?” the detective asked. His body language still gave nothing away, but Ashley was encouraged that he hadn't thrown them out yet.

  Ryan picked up the story. “Actually, it's not. We talked to Jordan Berg, too. He's Wendy Graham's fiancé; she worked with Dr. Green as co-Prinicipal Investigator on the cancer drug project. Berg was angry with Dr. Green, whom he blames for problems with his engagement, including a postponement of the wedding. He sent a pretty nasty email to Green after reading a text exchange between his fiancée and Green that seems to indicate they were having an affair and that he wanted to tell Berg about it.”

  The detective sat for a moment without speaking, then he replied, “Ms. Adams, Mr. Bregar, I understand your concern about Mr. Brady; I really do, and I appreciate you sharing what you've learned with me. But there's no evidence in what you've discovered, nothing that proves anyone else had the opportunity or the means to kill Dr. Green. So far, everything we've found points to Mr. Brady.” He held up his hand as Ashley and Ryan both began to object. “Hold on—I'm not dismissing what you've discovered. I will look into it, but the reality is that it isn't enough to get your uncle off the top of the suspect list. And, if you're right and our murderer is someone else, that person isn't going to be too happy about your poking around and asking questions. I've talked to the sheriff, and he told me about how Ms. Adams’ persistence has helped in the past, so I'm pretty sure telling you to stop is a waste of breath and time. But you need to be very careful. Not only could you get yourself into a dangerous situation, you could destroy or put vital evidence at risk. Please, please—if you won't stop your amateur sleuthing, don't do anything stupid—and please keep me in the loop, if you do keep going.”

  Ashley wanted to feel insulted, but she understood what the detective was saying, and he was a lot politer about it than he might have been. “Detective Luna, we understand your concern, and I appreciate that you listened to what we had to say. I don't know if we'll hear anything else, but we will let you know if we learn something that might be useful. Thank you for your time.” They shook hands with the detective and took their leave.

  Before starting the car, Ryan looked over at Ashley and said, “Well, that actually went better than I expected. Let's make a deal, though; for the rest of the day, let's forget about Oliver Gr
een, golf tournaments and murder. Let's enjoy the state aquarium, take a slow horseback ride on the beach, and then have a nice dinner at one of the beachfront restaurants. I need a break from all the drama, and I'm betting you do, too.”

  Ashley agreed. Although she felt like she knew more about the case than she realized, she also recognized that the more she tried to figure it out, the farther the clues would bury themselves into her subconscious. An afternoon without thinking about it sounded perfect.

  “I love the Texas State Aquarium,” Ashley commented as they pulled into the parking lot. “Every time I come here, I see something I missed the time before.” Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I feel like a kid, but this is still one of my favorite places.”

  Ryan agreed. “Have you seen the nursery? Seeing the egg casings and the young jellyfish and octopi is so cool,”

  They wandered through the exhibits, relaxing and enjoying one another's company. They visited the underwater viewing room where Shadow and Kai, the dolphins swam and played, and then they walked up to the Islands of Steel display.

  “This is interesting,” Ryan commented, pointing to a sign “According to this, the oil platforms in the Gulf of Mexico used to be totally dismantled, and that destroyed the habitats that formed around them. Now, they leave part of the platform in place to preserve the new ecosystem with pompano, crevalle jack, red drum, and other fish. I guess it's like what happens around a coral reef.”

  They continued to explore, touching and feeding the rays in Stingray Lagoon and learning about the tortoises and turtles in Tortuga Cay, then watching the different species of jellyfish, octopi and cuttlefish in the Tentacles exhibit.

  Later, as they drove to the equestrian center for their ride, Ashley said, “I think I have a new favorite exhibit now. Eagle Pass looks exactly like a West Texas canyon, and Bonnie, the golden eagle, and Grace, the bald eagle, are so majestic-looking. It's awful that they both have permanent wing injuries that make them non-releasable, but I'm still glad we can see them. Does that make me too awfully selfish?”