Murdered in the Man Cave (A Riley Reed Cozy Mystery)

by R. Barri Flowers

  "Greetings, everyone," he said, with a smile on his face. "Sorry I can't be there with you in person, but obviously that's not possible at this stage of my journey from there to wherever I've ended up. I'm sure my wonderful attorney, Brianna, has informed you that I've requested this reading of my will as a prelude to the more formal and standard probate process, in which you will all receive a copy at the appropriate time.

  "I would like to begin by saying that I recently learned I have early stage Alzheimer's disease. It's obviously a ravaging affliction for which there is no cure, so all I can do is try to make the most of the time in which I am still lucid and can care for myself. Please don't feel sorry for me, as I've had a full life and have to let the chips fall where they may.

  "That said, I also have to be realistic and prepare for the worst, which brings me to this moment in time. Now, without further ado or droning on about how much I hate leaving you behind or will be missed by family, friends, and fans, I will get right to the point in expressing my wishes regarding divvying up my estate..."

  Like everyone else, I was stunned in watching Brent reveal his affliction, while proud that he did so with such courage and dignity. I waited with baited breath as I watched my friend making his final curtain call as a bestselling novelist, and seemingly enjoying his moment at center stage, to the extent that one could in speaking from the grave.

  "First of all, as a lifelong Spartan, I am bequeathing one million dollars to my alma mater, Michigan State University toward a scholarship in my name for creative writing students. Now, moving on to my ex-wives... We certainly had our ups and downs ladies, but there was a moment when we were on the same page. And for that, I'm leaving each of you one hundred thousand dollars. Spend it well."

  I wasn't sure any of them were expecting that, by their reactions, but they seemed pleased, all things considered.

  "On to my niece, Emily, we have not always seen eye to eye on the direction your life has taken. I'm hopeful that you will clean up what still needs to be cleaned up in your act and get your life in order in memory of your mother, my dearest sister. To that end, I am leaving you my mortgage free home and most of its contents, along with my stocks, which when cashed in, should bring you upwards of two hundred thousand dollars. I hope you will use it toward education or furthering your pursuits in life."

  I watched as Emily put her hands to her mouth with emotion that seemed to be a combination of gratefulness and maybe even a little resentment for airing their dirty laundry to some degree.

  Brent continued, "To my longtime and loyal housekeeper, Luisa, consider yourself employed for as long as Emily lives in the house, with a twenty percent raise. Should she ever decide to sell, you'll get a half a million dollars, so you'll never have to work anywhere else. Aside from that, I'm leaving you one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to help make your life easier, along with my Mercedes, so you no longer have to take the bus to work."

  "Thank you so much, Mr. London," Luisa muttered, weeping openly as she stared at his face.

  I knew how fond Brent was of his housekeeper and was elated that he had expressed it in death, leaving no doubt as to how much he appreciated her.

  "Ivana, my darling," Brent said sentimentally. "We haven't known each other very long, but then again, it doesn't take long for two people to connect, does it? You may be wondering why I would name you in my will at this stage of our relationship. Well, all things considered, it seemed like the smart thing to do for someone I've grown to care for. In case I wasn't able to do this later, I wanted to leave you a little something for what might have been, had we been given more time..."

  Ivana wiped tears from her eyes as Brent kept her and the rest of us in suspense.

  "Had we continued moving in the direction we were, I think I would have eventually asked you to marry me. Obviously, my current situation puts a damper on that. But, assuming you would have said yes, and being a man of considerable means, I leave you fifty thousand dollars to remember me by and to make your life a little easier."

  "Thank you, my darling," she cooed, and blew him a kiss.

  "Pierce," Brent continued, "I took you under my wing as my research assistant, and watched you develop into a fine writer in your own right. Thanks for putting up with me as writer and making it seem like fun. I know you were always taken with the seascape oil painting hanging over the fireplace in my man cave. Well, it's yours, friend. I hope you find a nice place for it at your home or office."

  Pierce nodded. "Will do, Brent. Appreciate the thought."

  As I studied him, I couldn't help but wonder if Pierce had been expecting more—perhaps money. I had no knowledge of his financial state, but I assumed that since he had two bestsellers under his belt, his head was at least above water.

  I heard Brent start to speak to me and gave him my undivided attention.

  "I don't know where we went wrong in our relationship, Riley, but I sure as hell know where we went right. Thanks for giving me a shoulder to cry on from time to time. Since I know you have always been one of my biggest fans, I leave you a signed first edition of all my books in hardcover. If you've read them all, read them again. I've always found novels better the second time around. And if you find any errors, please keep them to yourself."

  I smiled, holding back tears, as I accepted the gift, which I would forever treasure.

  "Good bye to each one of you," Brent said, "and thank you for the part you played in my life. Now get the hell out of here and go live your own lives to the fullest, as I tried to do."

  The screen went blank and Brianna pointed the remote at the television and turned it off.

  "Thank you all for coming," she said. "Riley and Pierce, you can get together with Luisa to set up a time to pick up your items from the house. Or they can be delivered to you wherever you wish. As to everyone else, once the will has gone through probate and the criminal investigation is completed, Brent's wishes will be honored."

  I understood that last part pertained to state law, whereby a murderer could not inherit from the deceased, if found guilty of the person's murder. Looking around the room, I wondered if anyone present could have been involved in Brent's death. I dreaded to think so. At the same time, money was always a motivation for killing someone, assuming Brent's murderer hadn't ended his life for another reason.

  "The Alzheimer's certainly took me by surprise," Pierce said to me as everyone prepared to leave.

  "I think that's true for all of us," I told him, seeing no reason to admit that Brent had shared this with me in confidence.

  "I wish I had known. Maybe I could have helped him with his writings or whatever."

  "I think Brent preferred to keep it to himself for as long as possible, having such pride in his ability to do everything for himself."

  "I suppose you're right." Pierce scratched his check. "Can I give you a lift home?"

  "Thanks, but I'm riding with Emily," I responded.

  "No problem. See you later."

  "Are you going to Brent's house?" I asked him, knowing that Emily had invited a few guests over in honor of Brent.

  "Yes, I plan to drop by for a few minutes," he said.

  I smiled, thinking we might be able to talk a bit more about the book club meeting. "Okay, then I'll see you there."

  He grinned and said, "By the way, that was quite a gift Brent bequeathed to you. Those books will be quite valuable someday."

  "Maybe, but I don't think he gave them to me for the money," I said. "Nor would I ever sell them."

  Pierce appeared to be speechless, and I watched as he slowly made his way out of the room. I approached Emily, who was chatting with Ivana Croxley.

  "Hey," I said to them.

  "Ivana was just telling me that she and Uncle Brent had planned to go to Hawaii next month," Emily said sadly.

  "Really?" I looked at Ivana.

  "Yes, we were going to spend a week in Kauai and one in Maui." Ivana's voice broke. "Now I wish we had just taken off the moment we start
ed talking about it. We could have created lots of memories and maybe somehow this wouldn't have happened."

  I hated to rain on her pleasant thought, but said candidly, "I wish that were true. But it seems like someone was determined to kill Brent and would likely have pursued that whenever the opportunity presented itself."

  Ivana frowned. "Who would have wanted him dead?"

  "I've asked myself that very question numerous times," I told her, "but no answer has surfaced thus far. I guess we'll just have to wait and let the police do their job."

  "Meanwhile, the killer is still free to go about their business," Ivana said.

  "I know and it sucks!" Emily rolled her eyes and then sucked in a deep breath. "I can't wait for this case to be solved."

  "Until then, all we can do is continue to live our lives, as Brent would want us to do," I said, knowing it was easier said than done.

  "We should go now," Emily said to me.

  I nodded.

  She gazed at Ivana. "You're welcome to drop by the house, if you want. People have brought food over and we're just going to hang out."

  Ivana ran a hand through her hair. "Thanks, but it will just remind me of Brent and I can't handle that right now. But we should stay in touch."

  "I'd like that," Emily said.

  I imagined that they might become friends, even if Ivana had fallen short of becoming Emily's step aunt, through no fault of her own.

  * * *

  During the drive to Brent's house, I thought about his concern regarding Tony's influence on Emily. I wondered if that might be put to the test even more now that she was about to come into some serious money.

  I decided to bring it up. "With your inheritance, I hope you won't enable your friend Tony with his gambling addiction."

  "I won't," she said. "The last thing I want to do is pour money down the drain with a gambler."

  "I'm happy to hear that," I admitted. "And I know Brent would feel the same way."

  Emily nodded. "I want to make him proud, even if I didn't get the job at Klackston Industries. I don't plan to just sit around and do nothing. Maybe I'll go to school full-time and find the right career."

  "I think that's a great idea," I said, as another thought popped in my head. "Speaking of ideas, Luisa mentioned that she thought it would be nice if Brent's man cave was redone as he might have envisioned. I don't know what your plans are for the house, and Brent never told me the specifics of his vision—"

  "I love that idea," Emily said. "I have no plans to sell the house. I intend to keep my uncle's memory alive any way I can. As for his man cave, I have some thoughts on what he might have wanted. We can discuss them later."

  "I'd like that."

  We approached Brent's house, which would now seem so empty without him, even with guests present. I couldn't help but notice his inquisitive neighbor. She was watering her lawn, but looked up when she saw the car. We locked eyes, before she quickly turned away.

  "That was odd," I mumbled to myself.

  "What?" Emily asked.

  "Your neighbor. Seems like she has something on her mind. Wonder what it is?"

  Emily glanced at her. "Who knows? She's probably just bored with her life."

  "You're probably right," I said, even if I had a feeling it was something more than boredom that had her appear to take a special interest in us.

  * * *

  The gathering included Luisa, Pierce, Tony, and a few of Emily's other friends. Apparently, none of Brent's former wives were invited, or they just didn't bother to show up. I figured that they had probably closed that chapter of their lives a while ago, had it not been for the bequeathment.

  I sipped lemonade and watched as Emily spoke to Tony quietly in a corner of the rec room, where most of the guests had assembled. Though in a way it seemed rather morbid to hang out in the room where Brent breathed his last breath, I also felt it was a good way to bring his man cave back to life.

  "Wonder what they're talking about," Pierce said, coming up beside me.

  "Probably nothing much," I suggested, even if I imagined it might be about Emily's newfound wealth.

  "You know, Brent never thought much of him," Pierce commented.

  "Yes, he made that clear to me," I had to admit. "But Emily's a grown woman and I'm sure she's quite capable of deciding who she wants to associate with."

  "Perhaps you're right. Far be it for me to meddle."

  "I was thinking the same thing regarding myself," I told him, deciding it was best to let Emily lead her own life and wish her the best.

  Pierce grabbed a pool stick off the table, where Brent had once lay dead. "Do you play?" he asked.

  "Not really. And if I did, I don't think it would be very appropriate to do so now, under the circumstances."

  "I disagree. It's exactly why the table should be used," Pierce said, taking aim at the white ball and knocking it into the other balls. "Brent would be the first one to say it's time for us to get back to living."

  I could hardly argue the point, knowing Brent as I did. Still, given that I had found him slumped over the pool table, I decided to pass.

  "I think I'll just circulate," I said.

  He grinned. "Enjoy yourself—and I mean that in the nicest way. That is why we're here, isn't it?"

  I smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is."

  At least that was usually the intention when people got together after a funeral.

  I intruded upon Emily and Tony's conversation, which stopped abruptly when I approached them.

  Emily smiled and noticed my empty glass. "Would you like more lemonade? Luisa is around here somewhere."

  "No thanks," I told her. "I just wanted to let you know that I have some definite ideas for sprucing up Brent's man cave. Whenever you want to discuss it, just call me."

  "Will do." She looked at Tony. "Riley's going to give the rec room a makeover."

  He grinned. "Cool."

  After a moment of awkward silence, I could tell that they preferred to get back to their private conversation, so I moved on.

  I found Luisa in another room dusting. She had changed from her funeral attire to work clothes. I was somewhat surprised, as I thought she should be here for Brent as a guest and not an employee.

  "Hello, Ms. Reed," she uttered, looking almost embarrassed, as she stopped dusting.

  "Hello, Luisa. And please call me Riley."

  She nodded. "Okay, Riley. Do you need something?"

  "No, I just wanted to let you know that I will be working with Emily to redo Brent's rec room."

  Luisa's eyes twinkled. "That's wonderful. I'm sure he would be pleased to know that."

  "I think so too." I paused. "So will you be staying on at the house?"

  "Yes, it was Mr. London's gift to me and I appreciate it very much. I have nowhere else to go, really."

  I didn't know much about Luisa's family, other than that she was from Costa Rica and had a daughter. "I'm happy that Brent made sure you stayed employed after years of working for him," I told her.

  "Me too," Luisa said. "I just hope Miss Emily doesn't decide to sell. Even with the money, I'd still rather keep working."

  "Has she indicated she might want to sell the house?" I asked curiously.

  "No, but who knows what the future holds."

  "True," I acknowledged. Brent could certainly attest to that.

  That evening, I was only too happy to be back at my house, even though it was a bit lonely in the absence of Emily as my short-lived guest. It was also sad knowing that Brent would never visit again to tell me about his next book.

  After working a bit on my blog and watching some television, I called it a night. As I tossed and turned, I wondered how long it would take the authorities to apprehend Brent's killer. Was it possible that the person would never be caught?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  On Sunday, I went for my morning run, worked on the blog, and invited Peggy and Harold over for dinner. It was high time I got back to my life, even if I would mi
ss Brent like crazy.

  I went to the grocery store to pick up some items for the meal. While there, I spotted Annette shopping with her husband Fred.

  "I'm glad we ran into each other," she said, as Fred went to get some apples.

  "Hi, Annette." Since I was on a tight time schedule, I wasn't interested in having a prolonged conversation.

  "I heard the funeral was nice."

  I suspected she had been talking to one or more of the book club members who had attended. "Yes, as far as funerals go."

  "I hate funerals," she said, wrinkling her nose. "All I seem to do is bawl like a baby and mess up my makeup."

  In that case, it's probably a good thing she didn't come. I reached beyond her and grabbed a head of lettuce.

  "So I heard you invited Pierce O'Shea to speak at our next meeting," Annette said.

  "Yes, it seemed like a good idea," I told her, realizing I had forgotten to solicit her opinion on it. "Everyone else seems to think so."

  "Well, he is an appropriate sub for Brent London," Annette said, grabbing some carrots and putting them in a plastic bag. "And it would be interesting to get his take on our thoughts about his last novel."

  I smiled. "He seems pretty up for it."

  "I'm two-thirds of the way through with Rebecca," she pointed out. "But I guess we can move that book to the meeting after the next."

  "Good idea," I said, though that seemed like a no-brainer to me. "I've been enjoying the book thus far, though it's been hard to find time to get some chapters in."

  "Maybe we can have lunch and compare notes."

  "Sounds like a plan." I glanced at my watch. "Well, I have to run. I'm having friends over for dinner and I still have a few more things to pick up."

  Annette nodded. "See you later."

  I gathered my other items, paid for them, and drove home.

  The meal was meatloaf, tossed salad with ranch dressing, dinner rolls, and good old-fashioned store bought apple pie.

  By the time my guests arrived, I had managed to finish making dinner, change clothes, and actually do a little work on my blog.

  "It was so nice of you to invite us to your lovely home for dinner," Harold said. He was a few years older than Peggy was, quite tall, and handsome with a full head of salt and pepper hair.