Fudge Cake, Felony and a Funeral (The Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Series Book 2)

by Sherri Bryan

  She knew that she shouldn’t encourage him to sleep on her bed, but she didn’t have the heart to put him back in his own. Anyway, he was so cute, she didn’t mind him sharing the bed in the least.

  The next morning, she was woken by Pippin licking her nose. “Talk about a wake-up call!” she laughed as she pulled the duvet over her face. It was quarter past six. Her alarm wasn’t due to go off until half-six, but as she was wide-awake, she thought she might as well get up.

  She went downstairs and made a pot of tea and scrambled eggs on toast. Putting everything on a tray, she turned to take her breakfast into the living room to catch up on the early morning news when she almost tripped over Pippin, who was sitting in the kitchen doorway. She’d completely forgotten that she needed to take him out.

  “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry, Pip - I’m not used to you being here yet! Hold on, let me get some clothes on and I’ll take you for a walk.” She ran upstairs and pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper and then rushed back down to where Pippin was waiting patiently. “Come on, little one, let’s go.” She clipped the leash onto his collar and they were off.

  Almost immediately, Pippin did what he had to do. Poor little pup, he must have been desperate, thought Charlotte, as she bent down to pick up a large pile of poop.

  The weather had changed again and the air had turned warmer. “It’s a beautiful morning for a walk, Pippin,” she said. “Where should we go?” The little dog looked up at her and trotted off, as if someone had just set his GPS. Without Charlotte’s guidance, he took her all the way to the beach, and when she unclipped his leash, he scampered and rolled about on the sand, chasing seagulls and running in and out of the early morning surf. It warmed Charlotte’s heart to see him so happy. “I think we’re going to get on very well, you and me,” she said as she scratched Pippin behind his ears and tickled his belly.

  They were on their way home when Charlotte saw a hunched figure on the opposite side of the street. Head down and stiletto-heeled shoes tip-tapping on the tarmac, Miranda Potts pulled her jacket around her generous form as she strode along purposefully. Not wishing to get into a conversation, Charlotte held her head high and looked straight ahead to avoid eye contact. Thankfully, Miranda didn’t look up and they passed each other by without incident. I’m surprised to see her up and about so early, thought Charlotte, as she turned into her road.

  She was just getting her key out of her pocket when suddenly, Pippin made a bolt for one of the local cats, pulling the leash clean out of her hand. He moved like lightning after the cat, who took off in the opposite direction as fast as it could.

  “Pippin! Pippin!” Charlotte called after him frantically. “C’mere Pippin … here, boy! PIPPIN! WILL YOU COME HERE!”

  At the sound of her raised voice, Pippin stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at her and when she’d almost caught up with him, his tail started wagging and he was off again like a rocket.

  “Damn it!” she said. “Pippin, this isn’t a game! Come back!” She followed the little dog up the street and suddenly realised where he was going. He was on his way back to Tom’s.

  Oh, no, she thought as she saw Pippin approach the cottage and run in the open gate. The last thing she wanted was to get into any kind of conversation with any of the Potts family, particularly at this time of the morning.

  As she got closer to the house, she saw that Pippin was busy digging up the flowerbed. “Pippin!” she whispered. “Will you come here!” He completely ignored her, intent on retrieving the bone he’d buried the week before.

  She was just about to go into the garden to get him when she heard voices coming from inside the cottage. She ducked down, not wanting to be seen. This calls for drastic measures, she thought. Getting onto her hands and knees, she crawled towards Pippin and caught him under her arm, bone and all. As long as I stay under the windowsill, no one will see me, she thought, her heart beating fast.

  As she started to crawl away, she heard two men and a woman talking and recognised the voices as Ellis Potts, his sister Victoria and his brother-in-law, Greg. From her position under the open window, she could hear that they were continuing with the discussion about Miranda and the lottery ticket, and they didn’t sound happy.

  “I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again today – I don’t agree with her keeping the ticket,” Greg was saying. “We should put it somewhere safe where we can all have access to it until we make the claim and get our hands on the money.”

  “Yes, that sounds the most sensible thing to do,” said Victoria.

  “What’s the point of that?” snapped Ellis. “Why do we all need to have access to the ticket? No, Miranda’s the best person to look after it and keep it safe.”

  Greg gave a sarcastic laugh. “Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you? After all, she’s your sister. Tell me something, Ellis. If she’s so trustworthy, why is she faking a back injury and claiming incapacity benefit? Doesn’t sound very trustworthy to me.” He sounded smug, as though he was enjoying irritating his brother-in-law, immensely.

  Ellis retaliated. “She is not faking it! And don’t attack my sister’s character!” He was shouting now. “She’s looking after the damn ticket and that’s final!”

  “Well, I don’t – no, we don’t think it’s fair, do we love?” said Greg. “Come on, Vic, back me up on this.”

  Victoria’s reluctance to answer the question was conveyed by her silence

  “So, you don’t trust Miranda, either?” Ellis said to Victoria, his voice full of scorn. “Your own sister. God, you make me sick, both of you. In fact, I can’t bear to look at you – I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Rachel Potts joined the conversation.

  “Ellis was just extolling the virtues of his dear twin sister’s character,” Greg said, with a sneer in his voice. “He’s adamant that she should be the one to look after the ticket.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, not this again,” said Rachel. “She hasn’t even found it yet. What are you arguing about now?”

  “Ask them,” said Ellis, his voice laden with disgust as it faded away, followed by the slamming of a door.

  Under the window in the front garden, Charlotte’s knees were beginning to go numb. It was time to leave. She crawled out as quickly as she could and then she and Pippin ran all the way home.

  ººººººº

  Earlier that same morning, Tom’s family had sat around the breakfast table.

  Overflowing ashtrays and empty beer bottles littered the floor, because the bin was full of empty fried chicken buckets, pizza boxes and milkshake cups.

  They had all been horribly hung-over except Miranda Potts, who had drunk only orange juice and lemonade the previous day and was just finishing a bacon and mushroom omelette.

  “Well, I’ve got no sympathy for any of you,” she’d said as she’d wiped a piece of bread across the bottom of her plate. “If you can’t drink without making yourselves ill, you obviously don’t know your limitations, do you? You’ve only got yourselves to blame.”

  “Yes, okay Miranda,” Rachel had groaned. “We don’t need a lecture from you, thank you very much.”

  “I’ll second that,” said Greg, raising his hand in the air. “You’re not our mother, Miranda, so please don’t speak to us as if you are.”

  Miranda had looked at her in-laws with distaste. She’d taken an instant dislike to Rachel the first time Ellis had brought her home to meet the family, and it hadn’t worn off. Despite Rachel’s repeated attempts over the years to be cordial, Miranda had never accepted the woman who, in her eyes, would never be good enough for her twin brother. As for Greg, she couldn’t understand why Victoria had chosen such a pitiful and ineffectual man as a husband.

  “Anyway, why the hell did you wake us up so early?” Victoria had complained. “It’s not even seven.”

  “Because you’re going to help me find that lottery ticket, that’s why,” Miranda had said. “I couldn’t find it last n
ight, so we’re going to search this place from top to bottom today until we do find it. In the meantime, I’m going out to get a newspaper. We’ll start as soon as I get back.”

  She’d pulled on her jacket and, before slamming the front door, had shouted over her shoulder, “And for God’s sake, will someone open a window – all I can smell in here is stale food, cigarettes and that stinking dog.”

  ººººººº

  Charlotte threw everything that Pippin would need for the day into a plastic bag and put it into the basket on her bike. She didn’t want to leave him home alone, so she was taking him to the café with her. She would put his new basket just outside the sliding glass doors where she could keep an eye on him, and if he seemed happy with the arrangement, she’d bring him in with her every day.

  “Come on, Pip … let’s go,” she called to him and he came bounding out of the front door as though he had springs on his feet and took up his position behind her, ready to run all the way.

  As Charlotte turned onto the sea front, she saw Ava, Harriett and Betty power-walking towards her in the distance. She saw them stop outside The President, the only five-star hotel in town, and assumed they were taking a break. Then she heard the screams.

  Without any regard for her safety, she cycled as fast as she could to get to them. When they saw her, they began to flag her down.

  “Stop, Charlotte, stop!” they called, waving their arms in the air.

  “Are you okay? What’s happened?” Charlotte rushed to her friends, who were wailing loudly and wringing their hands.

  As she drew closer, the cause of their alarm became clear.

  Lying in the car park of The President hotel was Miranda Potts. A thin trickle of blood ran down the side of her face, the source of which was a small wound on her left temple. Lying on the ground next to her were her shoes and a copy of the local newspaper. As its pages blew in the breeze, Charlotte’s eyes were drawn to the front page, which bore a picture of Miranda at the café and the headline, FAMILY OF LOCAL MAN HUNT MISSING LOTTERY TICKET IN HOPE OF FORTUNE – Daughter vows to safeguard ticket in shoe.

  Charlotte bent to feel for a pulse, but even though the body was still warm, there was nothing. She swiped the screen of her phone to call Nathan. Oh, no. Not again.

  “Are you calling for an ambulance, dear?” Ava’s voice trembled.

  Charlotte shook her head. “It’s too late for an ambulance, Ava. She’s dead.”

  Chapter 4

  Before long, the area had been sealed off and was swarming with police and Scene of Crime Officers.

  Nathan had already been to Tom’s cottage to inform Miranda’s family, and Ellis was now sitting on the wall, head in hands, being consoled by Rachel. Greg was supporting Victoria, her legs having given way when she’d seen the body, and she was having major histrionics in his arms, “What kind of place is this?! We come to bury our dad and someone bumps off our sister?”

  Brandon and Bella were sitting next to their father on the wall, for once not a phone in sight. Two police officers were with the family, speaking quietly and comforting them.

  Police Constables Fiona Farrell and Ben Dillon were taking statements from Ava, Harriett, Betty and Charlotte, and Nathan was deep in conversation with the coroner, who had just arrived.

  Charlotte sat on the wall that ran the length of the promenade, ruffling Pippin’s coat as he sat obediently beside her. She couldn’t believe that this was happening again. She was only just getting over last year, when she’d found a body on one of the boats in the marina.

  St. Eves had always been such a quiet and tranquil place to live; with barely a whisper of a crime. She had loved the relaxed way that residents had been able to leave their doors open, day and night, without fear of being disturbed, let alone murdered.

  “Oh, my dear, I’ve never been so scared in all my life!” Ava was telling PC Dillon. “I was the first one to see the body, you know.”

  Charlotte looked at her phone. It was just after eight. She called Jess to tell her she was running late. “You won’t believe what’s happened,” she said to her friend, “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

  After she’d given her statement to PC Farrell, she went over to speak to Nathan.

  “I have to get to the café,” she said, “but will you call me when you can and let me know how you’re getting on with the investigation?”

  Nathan took off his sunglasses and squeezed her shoulder gently. He recalled Charlotte telling him of the sleepless nights the previous year’s murder had caused her, and he was glad that this time around, he would be there to comfort her for some of the time, at least.

  “Listen, as soon as there’s any information I can make public, you’ll be the first to know,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I know this probably won’t help, but try not to worry. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a random attack, particularly as the victim’s shoes were on the ground next to her. It seems that whoever killed her was looking for that lottery ticket and thought she might have it in hidden in one of them.”

  Charlotte looked at him disbelievingly. “You mean you think the killer saw Miranda’s picture in the paper this morning and just happened to bump her off while they were out for an early morning stroll?”

  “They don’t necessarily need to have learned about the missing ticket from the newspaper,” said Nathan. “According to the victim’s brother, there were a lot of people in the café yesterday who witnessed what she said first-hand. And you know what this place is like – someone tells someone else, and then they tell someone else … gossip spreads like wildfire.”

  Charlotte looked horrified. “So you’re saying that the killer could be someone who was in the café?”

  Nathan nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying – it could be anyone.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Nathan … a minute ago, you were telling me not to worry. If you were hoping to reassure me by telling me that the killer could be anyone who lives in St. Eves and that they were probably in my café yesterday, let me tell you something. You haven’t.”

  Nathan’s phone rang and he looked at the display. “I have to take this, but I’ll call you later.” He walked away, listening intently to his caller.

  Lost in her thoughts, Charlotte watched idly as Pippin chased after a leaf blowing along the road. I wish I felt so carefree, she thought, as she felt the first spots of a shower on her nose. She swung her leg over her bike and cycled the rest of the way to the café, the little dog scampering along behind.

  ººººººº

  “Oh, no! Not again!” said Jess as Charlotte filled her in on what had happened.

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” Charlotte replied as she shook out a blue cloth and fluttered it into place over the table she was setting up. “This place is turning into an out-and-and-out crime hotspot”.

  Jess followed her around the terrace, placing blue and white checked cloths over the blue base cloths. “Do you know how she was killed?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Well, she had a head wound, which she may have got when she fell, but I think it’s more likely that someone clobbered her with something.” She shuddered as she placed a vase of flowers and a menu on each table. “Anyway, we’re running late as it is, what with me being held up, so I’d better get on in the kitchen. I’m going to put Pippin’s basket just here, outside the doors, so he can have a sleep when he wants to without getting under our feet.”

  “It’ll be great to have him around,” said Jess, crouching down to tickle Pippin under his chin. “How does it feel to be the most valuable dog in St. Eves, Pip?”

  Pippin cocked his head to one side, ears pricked up, before chasing his tail round and round in circles in response.

  As Charlotte had expected, Ava, Harriett and Betty were among the first customers to drop by that morning. Settling themselves at a table, they proceeded to discuss their traumatic morning with anyone who passed by.

  “I say,” sai
d Ava, calling out to Garrett Walton as he came into the enclosed awning. “Have you heard about the murder? We were there, you know. I was the first person to see the body.”

  “Yes, I heard about half an hour ago,” said Garrett. “Word spreads like wildfire around here … not that you ladies would know anything about that, of course.” He grinned and winked before walking into the café, leaving Ava to pounce on the next, unsuspecting passerby.

  “Mornin’, Jess. Mind if I take these through to the kitchen?” Garrett nodded to the cool box he was holding.

  “Morning, Garrett - go ahead. Charlotte! Garrett’s here,” Jess called out and Charlotte popped up in the arch in the wall between the kitchen and the café.

  “Hi Garrett … Oh, my gosh!” She slapped her forehead. “The fish!”

  She was referring to the box Garrett was holding, which contained freshly-caught fish for her ‘Friday Fish Specials’ menu. She took it from him as he came through the swing door into the kitchen.

  “I’m so sorry. What with everything that happened this morning, I completely forgot to come down to the jetty to pick up the fish. Thanks for bringing it down for me.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Garrett. “I thought it was strange when you didn’t show up, but when I heard about the murder, I guessed that might have been the reason for you being delayed. It was one of Tom’s family, apparently.”

  “Yes, I know. It was one of his daughters – the twin. I was on my way to the marina this morning when I bumped into Ava, Harriett and Betty. They’d just found the body in the car park of The President. Can you believe it? After the murder last year, I thought we’d all be able to get on with our lives without having to worry about being clunked over the head by some maniac.”

  She quickly scaled, gutted and deboned the fish as she talked non-stop, venting her anxiety on the task in hand.

  “Come here, you worrywart.” Garrett held open his arms and his goddaughter stepped into them. After years as skipper of one of the fishing boat fleet, Garrett’s body was strong and hard, and as Charlotte smelled the sea on his skin and felt his muscular arms around her, her anxiety began to drain away.