Literally Murder (A Pepper Brooks Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Eryn Scott

  "Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm not really from The Frond, I'm just—“ I attempted to pull away, but his fingers only tightened.

  "Just trying to what? What do you know?" Sam took that opportunity to pull me closer. I cried out and his other hand shot up to cover my mouth. "I have ways of finding out."

  Right about when I was sure my hand was going to have to be amputated, we heard voices coming our way. Sam looked back, letting go of my wrist and allowing me to fully breathe once more.

  "Watch yourself," he leaned close and whispered, then he was gone.

  Tears pooled in my eyes as my left hand covered my aching right one. I pulled the sleeve of my light sweatshirt down to cover the mark. But even when it was covered, I couldn't seem to forget the force behind his grip or the fact that my arm now looked a lot like Katie and Mindy's necks.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I headed for class. The pain radiating from my wrist reminded me that I was dealing with a serial murderer who was brutally strangling women.

  Alex had good reason to want me to stay away from the case.

  Thinking of him made my heart ache. It was hard to reconcile the intensity with which I missed the guy and the outrage that cropped up every time I thought about him telling me to stay out of the investigation. Even though I could see the logic behind his reasoning, I couldn't help being reminded this was simply one more thing he didn't care enough to let me be a part of.

  The English building was quiet and held a dusty warmth, a lovely contrast to the crisp spring morning air. My nerves and thoughts settled in the familiar surroundings. Even settling into my seat in Evensworth's class didn't irritate me like it used to. The man's attitude toward me hadn't changed much, but I'd gotten an A on my paper about Hemingway and I felt like my plan to slowly chip away at his anger was working.

  When the classroom door opened a few minutes prior to the start of class, the twisty worried feeling resumed in my stomach, but it wasn't Evensworth who stepped into the room. It was Reuben Cross. His shifty eyes swept erratically around the room and I could feel them latch onto me. He nodded to me as he sat down to my right, getting his books out.

  Evensworth strode into the room and started right in on the day's lecture. His lesson today was all about the small, threadlike connections authors made throughout their books to help pull a subplot or theme from the first page to the last. I took furious notes during the first few minutes of his lecture, but after I wrote the word "connection" down in my notebook, I couldn't seem to move past it. Threadlike literary themes connecting one story to another or one character to another. Or one murder to another.

  Alex may have brushed off my Hemingway connection with the murders, but I couldn't seem to get it out of my head. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more my gut seemed to tell me there was something there.

  I spent the rest of class with my attention split into thirds. A third of my mind was focused on these murders and the coincidental similarities my brain kept latching onto between them and those Hemingway short stories, a third cringed every so often at the pain in my wrist and the memory of being cornered by Sam behind that building, and the last third was still trying to listen to what Evensworth was saying—because, tests.

  So by the time I got home that afternoon, I felt like I'd been concentrating too hard all day. I played "try to get the sock" with Hammy for a bit to get my mind off of all of this heaviness. The dog snorted and pranced around me while her butt swung from side to side, and I felt my worries lift away.

  "I wish I was as carefree as you are," I said, kneeling down to pat her before clicking on her leash and taking her on a walk.

  When Liv walked through the door an hour or so later, dropping her bag and saying, "Let's go out and have some fun tonight," I squealed in agreement.

  "Yes, I've had a weird and sorta terrible day." I tugged the sleeve of my shirt lower over my wrist. Liv had been on my side about this whole investigating thing so far, but I was pretty sure this would make her switch to Alex's side. I couldn't handle that right now.

  "The Select?" Liv asked. "I haven't been able to get those drinks off my mind since we went last week."

  The reminder of the spendy drinks brought money to mind. With buying so much coffee out lately, things were getting kinda tight. "Can we do dinner here first and just get drinks out?" I asked.

  "Uh uh, I've got some extra cash this month. Dinner and drinks. My treat."

  Pouting, I said, "But you bought the other night, too. I can pay for something."

  "Okay, buy me a drink and I'll get the rest," Liv said with a wink as she swapped her wallet from her school bag into her purse.

  "Ugh," I said with a groan. "You're the best. Can we live together forever?"

  Right when the words left my mouth, I wished I could shove them back in. The only reason the two of us had maintained any semblance of normalcy during our last couple of months living together was because we had a strict unspoken rule to not ever speak of the time when we wouldn't. So I expected sadness when I looked up at Liv, but not the completely tight, almost angry expression I saw wash over her features.

  Was she mad at me for something? Oh no. Was she counting down the days until she could move out while I was over here mourning the end of our time together? An uncomfortable heat rose in my throat and I swallowed audibly.

  The most awkward silence passed between us for what felt like a day and a half before she cleared her throat and said, "You ready to go?"

  "Uh, yeah..." I picked up Hammy and stood up. After setting her back down in the warm spot I'd just vacated, I grabbed my purse.

  Liv turned to me as we headed out the door. "Carson's joining us, by the way."

  I smiled and nodded, but all hope of my fun, let-loose evening crashed through the window. Not only was Liv acting super weird, but now I was going to be the third wheel on a day when my heart hadn't been able to let go of my fight with Alex.

  Suddenly, I wasn't excited about tonight. At all.

  15

  The Select was packed for a Monday night. Luckily, Carson had arrived before us and had snagged a table near the back. A huge, shiny blue marlin was mounted on the wall in this section of the bar. The tasteful fairy lights strung above us shone off its silvery scales and were reflected in his dark, unseeing eye.

  I plopped down in the seat across from Liv and Carson as they greeted each other with a longer-than-necessary—in my cynical opinion—kiss. I looked up at the marlin, cocking an eyebrow at him. Even though I would've usually thought a stuffed fish would look tacky, Isaac had managed to make the thing look eclectic.

  Done with their hello, Liv and Carson turned to me. "I ordered a few drinks to start us out," Carson said, flashing his biggest brightest smile at Liv and then me.

  "Thanks," I said, half-heartedly, scolding myself for being such a downer. Carson was being really nice. I needed to get past whatever weirdness just happened between me and Liv and have fun. Liv had invited me, so she obviously didn't feel weird about having a third wheel, and I shouldn't either.

  Moments later, a woman walked over balancing a tray of drinks. She smiled as she set them down one by one in front of us.

  "I've got a northern margarita for you," she said, setting the visual masterpiece in front of Liv. "A marmot mule for you." She set the copper cup in front of me, with a wink. "A mountain manhattan for you." This drink she set in front of Carson, who nodded appreciatively at the classic-looking highball glass. Then she paused, a slight wrinkle marring her smooth forehead for a second as her eyes scanned the table. "And a beer for...?"

  Carson, already in the midst of taking his first sip, lifted his eyebrows and motioned to the table next to me. "Oh, yeah. Just set that there. He'll be here in any minute."

  My eyes cut to Carson and I sat up straight. Oh no. From the creases marring Liv's face, she seemed equally worried.

  Finishing his sip, Carson set down his glass and blinked back at the two of us. "What? I invited Alex." He shrugged, like it wa
s the most logical thing.

  Closing my eyes so I could deal with the equal parts excitement and dread washing over me, I heard Liv scold Carson. "They're totally fighting right now." Even though her words were whispered in the loud bar, I heard them all too clear.

  Peeling open my eyes, I watched the couple across the table. One shot me apologetic looks—Liv, while the other continued to look clueless—Carson.

  "It's okay, Carson. You didn't know," I said, wanting so bad to follow up with a question about whether or not Alex said anything about me. How had he reacted to the invitation? Did he sound excited to see me or like he was coming reluctantly? But I hated the desperation I heard even in my thoughts, so I stopped myself from giving any of them a voice and focused on the drink in front of me instead.

  I faked a smile as I sipped the first half of my drink in a few long drags on my straw. Carson nodded, appeased, but Liv knew better and shook her head, smacking Carson on the shoulder and muttering, "I told you this weekend. Don't you listen?"

  Carson's words, "He'll be here any minute," perched on my shoulders, breathing uncomfortably into my ear. The front door was behind me and I hated that I wasn't going to have any warning before he sat down next to me. I spent the remainder of my drink turning around every few seconds to check, but my neck started to hurt. Slurping the rest of my marmot mule down, I stood up and said, "I'm gonna get another one of these. Anyone else?"

  Still on their first few sips, Liv and Carson shook their heads slowly, worry furrowing their brows. "Uh, we're good," Liv said cautiously.

  "Cool. Be back in a sec."

  Threading my way through the crowds, I inched my way up to the bar. The music and chatter—as well as the drink I just basically shotgunned—swirled through my brain, making me feel a little dizzy. After what felt like forever, I reached my destination and leaned my weight onto the tastefully stained concrete countertop. I turned my body so I could watch the front door while I waited. Relief settled my shoulders and I felt in control for the first time all night.

  "Hey, townie. How's it going?" Isaac asked as he sidled up to me across the bar.

  He had a glass in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other, like he was posing for some sort of old-timey bartender photo shoot. He also looked incredibly handsome, his wavy blond hair falling onto his forehead.

  A big smile peeled across my face. "You've gotta stop making these things so tasty," I said, holding up my empty copper cup.

  Isaac smiled, big and flashy. "Aw, where would the fun be in that?" He reached forward to grab the cup from me and his fingers brushed against mine. "Another, then?"

  "Um... I'm standing here, aren't I?" I quirked up an eyebrow at him.

  Isaac's laugh was deep and warm. He turned away to make my marmot mule, sliding another frosty, copper mug toward me moments later.

  "How much do I owe you?" I reached for the cash I'd stuffed in my pocket before I left the apartment.

  "This one's on the house." He gave me a nod and then turned his attention to a large group approaching the bar.

  Smiling and shaking my head, I returned to our table, telling myself the heat racing up my neck and into my face was because of the crowded state of the bar as I wound my way back to our table.

  I recognized Reuben, perched at the edge of a small table across the bar. He raised a hand in a sort-of wave and I returned the gesture. When I finally made it back to our table, the seat next to mine was still empty and I couldn't tell if I was happy or sad about that. Liv and Carson had been leaning in close to one another, but they separated and looked up as I returned.

  I could feel Liv's gaze burning into me as she studied my slightly flushed face. The girl could read me too well. She knew my face always went red when people flirted with me. I could feel the comments lining up in her mind. Before she could say anything, I blurted the first thing I could think of to avoid the topic of my flushed features.

  "So I really think Sam might be our guy."

  "Yeah?" Liv took a drink, narrowing her eyes at me.

  Carson looked from Liv then back to me. "Wait, I thought we were sure Garrison had killed them. I'm lost."

  Rolling her eyes, Liv said, "That was so last week. Garrison was in Seattle that night. He's cleared—well, most likely."

  "But," I said, putting up a finger. "It could still be Mrs. Garrison, like you said." I looked to Carson.

  "Wait. When did you say that?" Liv asked him.

  "I heard from one of the guys in student affairs that he knew she'd lied about her alibi," Carson said in a low voice, looking around.

  "Yeah, so maybe Mr. Garrison was covering for her. She could've threatened him or..." I chewed on my lip as I thought.

  "Uh uh," Carson said, breaking through my speculations.

  "Why not?" Liv asked.

  "That's how I know they were lying, because I work with the guy she was with that night. She told Danny they didn't want the university finding out about their affairs, but he got scared she might've been covering up for her husband. She lied, sure, but it couldn't have been her because she was with him the whole night." Carson's blue eyes suddenly turned serious.

  After a silent moment, Liv and I sucked in a collective breath. I had directed Carson straight to Alex before, so I hadn't heard his rationale before.

  "Well, why the heck did they lie if neither of them was guilty then?" I asked, tapping my fingers against the cool metal of my marmot mule.

  Carson scoffed, "Both of them were sleeping with students. I'm sure they're not crazy about that getting out. At first, I thought she could've been covering for her husband, but if you guys are sure he's not the one, then I guess they're both cleared." Carson looked around as if what he'd just divulged wasn't a big deal.

  I hadn't thought too much about it, but—other than Sam, of course—Mrs. Garrison was my next biggest suspect. The jealous wife finding out about her husband's younger lovers and going mad with rage. It fit. But she was sleeping around, too?

  I blinked. "Some marriage those two must have."

  Carson shrugged. "A lot of people have open marriages. Danny said she'd been the one who wanted to start seeing other people."

  Liv cocked an eyebrow. "I maintain they could still both be killers, working together, double-teaming, working the syst—uh." Liv's eyes grew wide as she cut off part way through her conspiratorial musings. "Hey Alex." She looked past me.

  Spinning to look, I caught sight of Alex just as he pulled out the chair and sat down next to me.

  "Hey," he said without making eye contact with me. "I'm guessing by the way you all clammed up when I walked over..." He turned to me, finally. "And the way Pepper's eye is twitching, that you were discussing the investigation." He raised his dark eyebrows as he took a long sip of the beer in front of him. He was wearing jeans and a blue Led Zeppelin T-shirt.

  I bit my lip, wanting so badly to tell him how much I loved his shirt, but then I remembered we were in a fight. And, if I was being honest, it was affecting me more than I thought it would.

  Even when Alex had been gone at the police academy, we'd still emailed and texted. He'd become my best friend besides Liv. I'd gotten so used to the way his face lit up when he looked at me, or the sly smile he always wore when he was teasing me about one thing or another. This surly, annoyed, all-business version of Alex was hard to take. More importantly, I missed my friend.

  Before anyone could say anything more, the woman bartender had returned, this time with some appetizers. Potatoes were my favorite food group, besides chocolate, so I got a little excited when she set down a basket of golden tots along with two baskets of wings.

  Despite the tater tots having just come out of the fryer, I reached across the table to grab one. The motion, however, made my sweatshirt sleeve hike up past my wrist, revealing the angry red mark Sam had put there earlier. The Select was a trendy bar with dark walls and cool music, but it had enough lights inside to make sure my wrist was very visible. Red as it was, I could see the beginn
ings of blue and purple bruising.

  Curling my fingers in, I started to pull my arm back slowly, hoping no one had noticed. Precisely at the moment I thought I might get away without anyone noticing, Alex leaned forward and grabbed my hand gently, unlike Sam, eyes narrowed as he took in the mark.

  Liv gasped. "What the hell happened to your wrist?"

  16

  Liv reached forward, but I yanked my hand away, pressing it against my stomach. Shimmying the cuff of my sweatshirt sleeve down, I covered the angry mark again.

  Closing my eyes, I pulled in a deep breath. I knew if I told Alex the truth, my chances at being involved in this case with his blessing were gone.

  "Oh, I—Hammy—I was walking her, had the leash wrapped around my wrist, and she... saw a squirrel. Just about yanked my arm off." I laughed and shook my head.

  Liv scoffed. "Peps, that dog doesn't weigh more than twenty pounds. There's no way she did that to your wrist."

  Alex cleared his throat.

  Looking to Carson, I smiled and hoped he might buy it, but even he raised an eyebrow in a come on, Pepper kind of way.

  I scanned the rest of the table. Liv looked incredibly worried while Alex's face was some terrible mixture of pain and concern. His normally warm brown eyes darkened like smoldering wood as they flashed to meet my flighty gaze.

  "What happened, Pepper?" The words leaked out of him one at a time, like a release valve only allowing small amounts to leave at a time so everything wouldn't explode.

  "I was talking to Sam Delaney today," I blurted out as I opened my eyes, flinching slightly at Alex's livid expression. "I thought I might be able to get him to talk if I pretended to be from The Frond." I swallowed and shook my head, tugging my sleeve down over my fingers as the memory of Sam's cold, focused eyes and terribly tight grip returned. "I didn't know that he was mad at them, though. Apparently, they had quoted him for that 'bodies in Campus Creek' line without permission."