When my brother dropped me off in front of my house, I was greeted with two different treats. The first was Daniel standing out front, waiting for me. The second was a visual delight that was an absolute feast for my eyes. It turned out that my boyfriend had been busy in my absence. While I was off solving the murder case, Daniel had waged war against my box of tangled Christmas lights. Even better, he had emerged victorious.
I looked in awe at the Christmas lights that had been strung up all over the front of my house. It was nice and modest display, nothing garish like the lighting explosion over at George Dolan’s place. I loved that the lights at my house were festive but not over the top. What was even more impressive to me at that moment was the fact that lights were strung up at all.
Daniel greeted me with a big smile as I got out of my car.
“Wow,” I said, still fixated on the Christmas lights.
“Welcome home,” he replied.
My eyes were still wide looking at his handiwork. “This is amazing. Honey, did you really do all of this?”
He nodded. “You’re not the only one who has been busy lately.”
I let it all soak in, not just the fact that the lights were up, but that my boyfriend had gone out of his way to string them up for me. “I’ll say. What a kind gesture. I can’t believe you really did this for me.”
“I guess that means you like it, then?”
“Of course I do. You know how much Christmas lights frustrate me, so the fact that I don’t have to wrestle with them this year makes me incredibly happy.”
“That’s exactly why I did this. I figured you could use a break. Besides, you’ve had your mind on more pressing matters lately. The last thing you needed was to come back and have to stare down a box of tangled lights.”
“Still, you didn’t have to do this for me,” I said.
“I know. I just wanted to.”
I felt so touched by his kind gesture. A big smile came to my face as I gazed deep into his eyes. “You’re such a sweet boyfriend.”
Daniel remained modest. “It was the least I could do. I don’t like seeing you unhappy, and untangling those lights was getting you really worked up.”
“Yeah. Just a little,” I said, understating things. I switched my focus. “By the way, how did you manage to get the lights untangled?”
“I didn’t.”
I became highly confused.
Daniel explained himself. “I bought a couple of boxes of new lights.”
“Good call,” I replied.
“Yeah. I have learned that sometimes it is worth it to spend a couple of extra bucks to spare yourself from aggravation.”
“My lack of patience deeply thanks you for that sentiment.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know, it was a little dicey back there for a while, but it looks like it’s going to be a happy holiday after all.”
“It’s already a happy holiday because I have you in my life,” Daniel replied.
I was so overcome with emotion that I wrapped my arms around my boyfriend. How did he always know the sweetest thing to say at any given moment? To some women, romance was flowers, diamonds, and boxes of chocolate. Call me a simple woman, but having Christmas lights strung up for me and getting a heartfelt compliment sent my way was as romantic as possible.
I peered into his eyes, as smitten as could be. “Bring on the mistletoe.”
“Who says we need mistletoe?” Daniel replied.
Daniel leaned in and gave me a deep kiss that nearly took my breath away. Even after all the time we had been dating, he still had the ability to sweep me off my feet. That in and of itself was a wonderful gift.
When he finally pulled back from the kiss, I had to catch my breath.
“You’re right. Mistletoe is completely optional,” I said.
The End.
Killer Injustice
Chapter One
“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty.”
I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched the television. It had to be a mistake.
“Did I just hear that right? Did that foreman really just say ‘not guilty’?” I asked.
My boyfriend, Daniel Jacobsen, reluctantly nodded.
No. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. Of all the murder cases that had ever gone before a jury in Hollywood, Florida, this one seemed to be the most clear-cut. I didn’t know anyone who believed Walter Clayton was innocent. When the television cameraman zoomed in on Walter’s face in the courtroom before the verdict had been read, even he looked like he expected to be convicted of killing his ex-girlfriend, Sadie Cambridge.
Yet the jury surprised us all. I could not take this news sitting down. This had some dire implications not just for my emotions but for those closest to me. My brother, Joe Hadley, the local police detective, had done painstaking work to build up the case against Walter. I had no doubt that he was sitting in the police station in absolute shock, counting down the minutes until his shift ended so he could crack open a cold beer to wash this awful news away.
If Joe felt awful, the Cambridge family felt infinitely worse. The television cut to a shot of Sadie’s parents, Mark and Julie Cambridge, sitting in the courtroom, wrestling with equal parts rage and shock. My heart went out to them, as well as to Sadie’s brother, David, and Sadie’s fiancé, Adam Leary, who were just as appalled by the news.
As a stunning contrast, the television cut to a close-up of Walter Clayton’s face next. He had the expression of a man who couldn’t believe he’d just gotten acquitted. Walter wasn’t alone. There was plenty of disbelief to go around.
I let out a huge groan. “I can’t believe that he just got away with murder.”
By that point, I was so angry at the jury that I wanted to storm over to the courthouse and read them the riot act. The district attorney had laid the case out on a silver platter. According to the prosecutor, last year, on September twenty-fifth, Walter Clayton had gone over to Sadie Cambridge’s house to tell her that he still loved her. According to Walter’s testimony, when he arrived, the house had been broken into and trashed by a burglar. Walter had found Sadie’s dead body on the ground in the kitchen with a gash on the back of her head.
The problem with Walter’s testimony and his insinuation that this was the work of a burglar was the distinct lack of evidence to support his claim. The murder weapon, a frying pan, which had been wiped clean of fingerprints, seemed like an odd instrument for a burglar to use to kill a victim. Wouldn’t a burglar have brought a knife or gun with them?
Also, the fact that the weapon had been left at the scene but had been wiped clean was highly suspicious. Why would the alleged burglar have taken the time to wipe the weapon down but not bring it with them?
Even more suspicious was the fact that nothing had been stolen from Sadie’s house that evening. Both her purse and the cash she had in her wallet remained untouched, as did ample jewelry and various antiques that were displayed in the living room. What burglar would break into a house and not take any of that?
In addition, after a thorough investigation, police never found this “phantom” burglar that Walter insisted had committed the crime. The district attorney believed just as I did that Walter and Sadie had gotten into a bitter argument that ended with him killing her. Then, to cover his tracks, he trashed the place in an attempt to make it look like a burglary gone wrong.
To me, his story reeked of a lousy cover-up. Apparently, the jury believed otherwise. Unfortunately, twelve very misguided souls on that jury had just set a killer free. In a short time, Walter would be released and could roam the streets as he pleased. That sickened me.
This was personal to me, mostly because I knew Sadie personally. We’d gone to school together years before. We’d played on the same lacrosse team in high school and had gone to theater camp together. Our friendship had spanned decades. When I moved to California to embark on an acting career, she was the first to wish me luck.
&nbs
p; During my time in Tinseltown, we hadn’t kept in as great of contact as I would have liked. So when I moved back to Florida nine months ago and opened my own animal shelter, I was delighted when she was one of the first people to stop by, looking to both adopt a cat and reconnect with me.
After catching up with her at the shelter, I was determined to rekindle our friendship, only for her to be murdered less than two weeks later. It was a devastating turn of events. Now, almost a year later, I still hadn’t fully come to grips with it.
Ever since Walter’s arrest, I’d been waiting for justice to be served. Now it looked like it never would be. That was the hardest pill to swallow.
“A jury of our peers?” I scoffed. “Yeah, right. How could this happen?”
I looked to Daniel for answers, but he had none. He didn’t even have the right words to express his emotions. Not that any words could accurately describe the disbelief. It was written all over his face. Even though we both felt the same way, I felt that venting our frustrations could really help us.
I tried to get a response from him. “Well?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. At least, not at first. Finally, he was able to piece together a sentence. I thought he’d rage against the verdict, but he instead hit on a point that hadn’t yet occurred to me.
“I don’t know what to say, except that I feel so sorry for the Cambridge family.”
Right then, my focus shifted. I’d been so outraged about the fact that the jury had gotten things so blatantly wrong that the Cambridge family’s suffering had faded into the background until right then. As I gave their plight my full attention, I couldn’t help but tear up a little. I was a complete wreck, and Sadie had just been my friend—it must have been infinitely more devastating for them.
After all, with Sadie’s murder, Mark and Julie Cambridge had lost their only daughter, while their son David Cambridge had lost his dear sister. For the Cambridges, their only solace was seeing Sadie’s murderer behind bars. With him being acquitted, all bets were off.
Not only was Sadie gone, but her killer would be roaming free. Things were no better for Adam Leary. He had gotten engaged to Sadie shortly before her murder. He’d planned on spending the rest of his life with her. Suddenly, the phrase “until death do us part” took on all new meaning.
“I can’t even imagine what they are going through,” I said.
While my boyfriend had been in too much shock to respond to much of my ranting, he finally found the right words to encapsulate his emotions. “This is a sad day—for the Cambridges, for justice, and for our city. I mean, we’re going to have a murderer walking amongst us. I don’t know how things will ever be the same.”
I didn’t know that they would either. How could they? This verdict was like a tidal wave. The question became, how destructive would it be?
Chapter Two
The next morning started with an abrupt change of plans. After staying up late, I wanted nothing more than to sleep in. That was always a bold plan with a Labrador retriever in the house. Yet, surprisingly, it wasn’t my dog, Buster, that woke me from a dead sleep.
Instead, my peaceful slumber was interrupted by an unexpected phone call. I couldn’t believe it. Shuteye had been so hard to come by. I’d stayed awake well into the night, thinking about the grave injustice of Walter’s acquittal, how crazy the world was, and how different things would be in town with him walking free.
Finally, an hour after I’d put my head down on my pillow, I drifted off. The next thing I knew, it was morning and I was being woken up by a phone call.
When I looked at the time on the caller ID screen, I was amazed. Was it really almost eight in the morning? Maybe the call wasn’t so awful after all. I was supposed to meet Joe and Daniel for breakfast at Home Sweet Home Cooking, my boyfriend’s restaurant, in fifteen minutes.
There was a fat chance of that happening unless they didn’t mind seeing me in my pajamas. Even if they did, I had more dignity than to go out in public looking like I treated the world as one big slumber party.
After seeing Joe’s name pop up on caller ID, I got ready to tell him that I had to push our breakfast until eight-thirty. When I picked up the phone, I quickly realized that I wasn’t the only one looking to make a change of plans. But while I just wanted to reschedule for a few minutes later, Joe was calling to cancel meeting for breakfast altogether.
I knew something big must have come up for Joe to pass up getting a stack of the restaurant’s famous fluffy pancakes. It turned out I was right.
“Wait a minute. Why are you canceling?” I asked.
There was a somber tone in Joe’s voice as he replied. “There’s been a murder.”
A chill raced down my spine. Very few things could distract my mind from buttery pancakes drenched in delicious maple syrup, but that was one of them. My body tensed up at the mere mention of the word “murder.”
When I was living in Los Angeles, murders were a common occurrence. Part of the reason I’d moved back to my hometown of Hollywood, Florida, was to avoid such grisly crimes. Yet my hometown had fallen prey to another murder.
It was never a good sign when the number of homicides exceeded the number of hurricanes in the last year. Both represented dubious statistics. Now, if we were in Miami or even Tampa, maybe I’d understand. But Hollywood, Florida? Things like this weren’t supposed to happen here.
When I cast aside my frustrations about the beating that my hometown’s reputation was taking, my thoughts turned to the specifics of the crime. Even without knowing any specifics, my first instinct was to suspect that Walter Clayton had killed someone.
With him acquitted and freely roaming the streets, there was no doubt in my mind that trouble wasn’t far behind. It almost seemed inevitable to me. The man had already gotten away with murder once. When someone was able to beat the system like that, they sometimes believed the law no longer applied to them.
Feelings of invincibility aside, Walter also held a number of grudges. He didn’t feel that he should have been a murder suspect in the first place. Perhaps, upon his release, he’d set out to settle an old score.
Still, I held out hope, however small, that this killing was unrelated to Walter Clayton.
“Who is the victim?” I asked.
After all I’d seen and investigated in the past, I didn’t think I could be surprised anymore. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Joe’s answer completely floored me.
“Walter Clayton.”
I almost did a double take. Wait a minute. Did I hear that right? I had to get a clarification.
“Hold on. Did you just say Walter was the victim and not the perpetrator?”
“I did.”
I was hoping I’d heard that wrong, but there was no mistaking what he’d said. This news changed everything. I was completely stunned, so much so that I had trouble even formulating a response.
Joe had no such difficulty. He continued. “Walter’s body was found this morning in his home.”
I was still reeling and could only muster one thought. “That’s unbelievable.”
He had a stern tone in his voice. “That’s one word for it.”
Clearly, he had different terminology in mind.
“What would you go with?” I said.
His answer was quick and direct. “Maddening.”
I don’t think I’d ever heard that word come out of his mouth. In my mind, it was a curious choice.
“Maddening?” I asked.
Sure, a man was dead, but he was hardly some innocent bystander. This was someone most people believed should have been spending the rest of his life in prison or even been put on death row. A man who was suddenly freed and could do whatever he wanted, including kill again if he so chose. While his fate had been executed in the harshest of manners, I had to admit that the strongest emotion inside me right then was relief to have him off the streets.
Joe disagreed. “Hope, this isn’t the Old West. We can’t just have people tak
ing the law into their own hands.”
“Oh. Right,” I said.
While I’d been thinking that the streets would be safer without Walter Clayton on them, Joe was thinking big picture. Having spent his career in law enforcement, Joe knew the potential large-scale ramifications of actions like this.
If things like this started occurring on a regular basis, it would blur the lines of justice and make it increasingly difficult for him to do his job.
“There’s a reason the police department exists. It’s our job to protect and serve. It would be chaos if random people with grudges just decided to start exacting their own brand of revenge without recourse,” Joe explained.
The chances were high that this was an isolated event. Joe didn’t think it was possible to be too cautious, as if frontier justice could soon be widespread in Hollywood. While I thought that was a ridiculous notion to entertain, I didn’t want to provoke my brother, especially when he was already so worked up.
I remained silent as I processed the news of Walter’s murder. It was such a stunning turn of events that was so difficult to wrap my head around. For his acquittal and subsequent murder to come in such quick succession almost put me on emotional overload.
I’d woken up still trying to make sense of the not-guilty verdict. Now a new set of emotions had swept in. This was all before I had a single cup of coffee in my system. One thing was certain—at least the grogginess I’d felt was no more.
Joe interpreted my silence a completely different way. Instead of recognizing that I was trying to juggle too many things at once, he assumed that I was eager to jump into the fray.
“I’m going to urge you to stay away from this case,” he said.
I tried to tell him what was really going on in my mind. “I wasn’t even thinking about—”
He didn’t want to listen. My brother wouldn’t even let me get a complete sentence out.
Sweets, Suspects, and Women Sleuths Cozy Mystery Set Page 29