Numbers Can Be Deadly (Sage Gardens Cozy Mystery Book 7)

by Cindy Bell

  Numbers Can Be Deadly

  A Sage Gardens Cozy Mystery

  Cindy Bell

  Copyright © 2016 Cindy Bell

  All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

  All trademarks and brands referred to in this book are for illustrative purposes only, are the property of their respective owners and not affiliated with this publication in any way. Any trademarks are being used without permission, and the publication of the trademark is not authorized by, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  From the Author

  About the Author

  More Books by Cindy Bell

  Chapter One

  Just as the hero was about to put in the final number to break the code, a sound stirred Walt from the fantasy world he’d disappeared into. He tried to ignore it at first, but the shrill ring of his cell phone caused him to lose his place on the page. He grimaced and grabbed for his phone. He’d been meaning to change the ringtone to something less jarring, but he only remembered when the phone rang and by the time he got off the phone he had forgotten. The number illuminated on the screen was not familiar to him. He hesitated to answer, but his curiosity won out.

  “Hello? This is Walt.”

  “Walter Right?”

  “Yes, this is he. May I help you with something?”

  “Are you familiar with a man named Lawrence Magnus?”

  “Magnus? Yes.” Walt frowned as he recalled the man. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen him though.”

  “Exactly how long?” The tone of the man’s voice became sterner.

  Walt sat forward in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “What is this all about? Who are you?”

  “My name is Detective Jenson. I am investigating Mr. Magnus’ death.”

  “Death? Oh dear, I didn’t know he had passed.” Walt closed his eyes as the minutes and seconds he’d carefully calculated until his own expected demise flashed through his mind. The clock always kept moving.

  “It happened last night. That is why I’m calling.”

  “Well, it is a shame that he is dead, but I’m not sure how I can help. Like I said, I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “I think you can help.” His brusque tone held Walt’s attention. “In fact, I’m sure you can.”

  “I’d be glad to. Just tell me how you think I can help.”

  “First you could explain to me why Magnus died with a pen in his hand, and a piece of paper beside him that had your name on it.”

  “My name?”

  “Walter Right. That’s your name isn’t it?”

  “Well yes, but I don’t have any idea why he would have written down my name.”

  “There must be a reason, don’t you think? A dying man took the time to write down your name.”

  “Of course, logically there must be a reason. I just don’t know what that reason is.”

  “You had no recent contact with Magnus?”

  “No I didn’t. He was my boss at one point, that was all. We weren’t even friends. I came in, I did my job, and he paid me. I don’t think we exchanged anything more than good morning or good night.”

  “Maybe you will remember more when we speak to you about the murder in person.”

  “I won’t. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in years. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”

  “I’m sure that you do. We’ll be in touch.”

  Walt gripped the phone tight. “Detective, really…”

  He realized the line was dead. He lowered the phone and stared into space for a moment. It slowly set in that this was no mistake. His old boss was dead, and the police planned to speak to him because he was a suspect. What if they decided to arrest him? What if there was no way to avoid going to jail? His stomach sank as he thought of being forced into a filthy, small cell with an open toilet and several other men. As a wave of dizziness washed over him he realized that his breathing was out of control. He gasped for air and dialed the number of the only person he thought might be able to help. His friend Eddy was a retired detective, and would at least be able to give him an idea of how much trouble he might be in. Eddy answered right away.

  “Walt, good morning.”

  Walt gulped back another breath and managed to form a few words. “Eddy, I need your help please. Can you come over?”

  “Of course I can. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I’m not sure, please hurry.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Walt struggled to take a slow, deep breath. It was impossible. His breathing pattern was already off. He had to calm down if he wanted to breathe normally. He walked into the kitchen and over to a drawer. He opened the drawer to find a brown, paper bag neatly lying right in place. He picked up the bag. He hung up the phone with Eddy and closed the bag over his nose and mouth. With every breath in and out he tried to focus on being calm. However, even the crinkle of the paper bag was enough to make him jump. How would he keep himself clean in jail? Communal showers? Another wave of dizziness caused his knees to nearly buckle. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the solution. If Magnus wrote down his name, there must have been a reason. Maybe he thought that Walt would be able to help him in some way.

  As Walt slowed his breaths he tried to recall what work he had done for Magnus. His primary project was to install and customize a program on the computer system. Walt remembered walking Magnus through the process and writing down some notes for him. But that was at least fifteen years ago. Why would he write down his name? Maybe he thought he should call him? But for what? It was not as if Walt was some highly trained assassin, or even the slightest bit trained. His expertise was in numbers, and that was rarely related to murder.

  Walt recalled Magnus as not being the friendliest person. In fact he was quite cruel to some of his employees, but no more so than many of the other high-powered CEOs Walt had dealt with. Magnus had the ability to make a dream come true, or ruin a life, and he wasn’t shy about doing either. Maybe his behavior had angered the wrong person. But that still didn’t explain why he would want to involve Walt in his murder. He shook his head and focused on breathing. When there was a heavy knock at the door he nearly jumped out of his skin. Walt kept the paper bag over his nose and mouth as he hurried to answer the door. He assumed it was Eddy, but he couldn’t be sure. When he opened the door he breathed a sigh of relief, which made the brown, paper bag expand with a snap.

  Eddy stared at him with wide eyes. “Walt, are y
ou okay, Buddy? Do you need a medic?” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Walt lowered the bag.

  “No, I think I’m okay. I’m trying to prevent a full blown panic attack. This bag is not helping!” He crushed the paper bag and tossed it on the floor. A second later he snatched it up and began to smooth out the wrinkles he had caused.

  “Why don’t you just sit down for a second and tell me what’s happened?” Eddy gestured towards Walt’s favorite chair. Once Walt sat down, Eddy sat down across from him.

  “My old boss is dead. He was murdered!”

  “Okay,” Eddy said thoughtfully, “but I’m not quite sure what to make of that. I’m sorry for your loss, but how does it involve you? Were you two close?”

  “Not at all. It doesn’t involve me at all, well it shouldn’t. For some reason Magnus wrote down my name on a piece of paper just before he died. Why would he do that?” He shook his head and stared down at the floor.

  “I don’t know. You’re the one that needs to answer that question.” Eddy frowned. “Any ideas?”

  “No, none at all. We weren’t even friends when I worked for him.”

  “Do you think he might have meant a different Walt?” Eddy lifted his hat to scratch the top of his head. “It seems odd to me that he would be so determined to write down your name with no recent contact.”

  “My name may be fairly common, but I doubt he knew another Walter Right. He wrote down my full name. I suppose it’s possible that he knew another Walter Right, but clearly the police don’t think there is another one that he could be referring to.” Walt cringed. “I think the police see it as him naming his killer. I really think they are going to be coming after me.”

  “Yes, they probably will.”

  “What?” Walt looked up at him with wide eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be helping me here? How is that helping?”

  “I’m just telling you the truth, Walt. They are going to want to question you. Any detective would. If there’s a chance that the victim named his killer it has to be followed up on.”

  “This is not making me feel any better at all.” Walt shook his head.

  “I’m just trying to be honest with you, Walt. It’s better to know what to expect than to worry about it.”

  “I’m going to worry about it whether or not I know what to expect.”

  “Look, they’ll question you, and as long as there is nothing concerning, they will be on their way.”

  “What would be concerning?”

  “Well, any conflict you might have had with this man. Any evidence of recent contact that you do not admit to. Lying, is a big one.”

  “I’m not lying. I haven’t spoken to this man in years. Why would I lie about that?”

  “I don’t think you’re lying. But I’m not the one who matters here. The detectives are. If you talk to them with a paper bag on your face you’re not exactly going to be screaming calm, innocent man. Understand?”

  “Okay, okay.” Walt drew a deep breath and tried to lower the paper bag. His heart raced and he squished it tighter against his face. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  Eddy reached out and put a hand on Walt’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to. I can get you through this, Walt, but you have to trust me.”

  Walt nodded a little. He lowered the paper bag. “Are you sure you can? What if they arrest me? What if they put me in handcuffs? What if they put me in the backseat of a dirty police car?”

  “Listen, I’m going to be here with you. You’ve done nothing wrong. There’s no reason to be concerned about being arrested. The important thing is to make sure that you are honest with the detectives. Now, are you sure that there is nothing in your past with Magnus that would be of concern to a detective?”

  Walt frowned. He thought back to the first few times he had met with Magnus. “Well, to be honest, I almost refused to work for him.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He financed large companies, but he also had a reputation for stealing, corporate style. He would buy struggling companies at a pittance and then restructure them to be part of larger, established companies by getting rid of most of the staff in the process and replacing some of them with young, cheap labor. It wasn’t against the law, I just found it morally wrong.”

  “Did that upset you?”

  “Well, I’m a numbers guy, but I hate to see small companies gutted before they ever have a proper chance.” Walt shook his head. “But business was business to me, and he was a big client. So, I just ignored his reputation and went with it.”

  “Hm. That could be something.” Eddy narrowed his eyes.

  “What do you mean that could be something?” Walt raised an eyebrow. “It could be something bad?”

  “Having an objection to the man’s morals could be skewed as motive. They might make the case that you were stewing all these years over his behavior and decided to finally do something about it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “To you and me it is, but to a detective grasping at straws it might be enough to make a case on. Unless they bring it up, I wouldn’t mention it.”

  “What if they do bring it up?” Walt’s eyes widened. Before Eddy could answer there was a knock on the door. Walt gulped and began to gasp for air. He put the paper bag back to his face. Eddy shook his head. Reluctantly, Walt put the paper bag down on the table beside the couch. He walked over to the door and opened it. Just as he feared there were two people on the other side of the door, a man and a woman. The man flashed a badge at him.

  “Detective Jenson. We spoke on the phone?”

  “Yes.” Walt nodded. “I already told you what I know.”

  “I’d just like to go over a few things with you. May we come inside?” He looked over at his partner, a younger woman, who stared hard at Walt.

  “Yes, of course. Uh, if you wouldn’t mind just wiping your feet.” Walt pointed to the sign beside the door that politely requested guests to wipe their feet. Detective Jenson rolled his eyes, but wiped his feet. His partner did the same. Walt watched the menial effort they offered. His fingers itched to get the broom from the kitchen. But he controlled himself and resisted the urge. Eddy remained right beside Walt as the two detectives stepped inside.

  “This is my friend, Eddy.” Walt glanced over at him. Eddy nodded at the detectives and offered his hand. Each took it in a mild shake. From the annoyance in Detective Jenson’s eyes, Eddy guessed that he would have preferred to speak to Walt alone.

  “We’re just trying to get a handle on what happened to Magnus. Obviously there is a reason he wrote your name down on that piece of paper.”

  “There must be, but I don’t know what that reason is. Like I told you on the phone, I haven’t seen him in so long. I probably wouldn’t even recognize him if I saw him.”

  The female detective produced a photograph. Eddy noticed that Detective Jenson didn’t introduce her. He knew why. The detective wanted to keep Walt off balance, uncertain of what her role was. It was a well-used method in police work. “You might not remember him, Mr. Right, but he certainly remembered you.”

  Walt stared at the photograph. His body shivered in reaction to the eyes he recognized, but a much older visage that could have been a stranger on the street. Now he was dead.

  “How did he die?”

  “One swift blow to the head.” Detective Jenson narrowed his eyes. “It was quick.”

  “That’s good at least.” Walt shook his head.

  “Is it?” Detective Jenson raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how much strength it would take to deliver a blow like that?”

  “I would assume quite a bit. I’d need more information to calculate an exact amount.” Walt met his eyes.

  “You’re that interested?” The female detective stepped closer to him. “Do you find something interesting about death?”

  “No, not at all. I just have a mind for numbers.” He frowned and looked over at Eddy. Eddy narrowed his eyes.

  �
�When was the victim killed?” Eddy asked.

  “Victim?” Detective Jenson turned his attention on Eddy. He studied him for a moment before he spoke again. “Mr. Magnus was killed between eight and ten o’clock last night.”

  “There you have it. Walt was with me during that time. There’s no way he could have been involved.”

  “I hadn’t made any accusations.” Detective Jenson snapped his attention back to Walt. “Should I? Your friend here seems awful quick to provide you with an alibi.”

  Walt stared back. His voice caught in his throat. Eddy interrupted his stuttering.

  “That’s because it’s true. We shared dinner and drinks at a new restaurant. I’m sure that Walt has the receipt to prove it. He always keeps his receipts.”

  “I do.” Walt nodded. “Can I get it?”

  “Sure, go right ahead.” Detective Jenson sighed.

  Walt walked over to his desk. The moment he had his back turned Detective Jenson locked eyes with Eddy.

  “You’ve known Walt long?”

  “A few years.”

  “Then you didn’t know him when he worked for Mr. Magnus?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Eddy said.

  “Here it is.” Walt turned around and held out a slip of paper to Detective Jenson. “It has the time. I’m sure that the staff would be willing to speak to you to confirm our presence.”

  “Let’s see.” Detective Jenson studied the small slip of paper for far longer than it should have taken to read it. He nodded and looked at Walt. “You work in finance?”

  “I used to, I’m retired.”

  Detective Jenson tucked the receipt into his pocket.

  “I’ll need a copy of that.” Walt looked at him anxiously.

  “One will be provided,” the detective said. “We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Right. Please understand that at this time we can’t clear you as a person of interest. It would be best if you remained in the immediate area in case we need to reach you for further questioning.”

  “Of course I understand.” Walt stood up from the couch and shook the detective’s hand.