Death by Crockpot

by Linda West

  “You accusing me of not doing my job?”

  I gulped, and a little squeak came out of Aphrodite.

  “No, sir!” I said. “I mean, that note is super important, and it has to be somewhere. Lots of people knew it existed, and it proves…”

  “I think that you better spend your time getting your own alibi together, Ms. Katherine O’Hara, and less time butting your big head in where it doesn’t belong.”

  Ouch. That big head thing was a sore spot with me. I’d been teased about that since I was a kid. Ogre head O’Hara. Thus the bangs I’d worn since I was old enough to grow hair. Whatever, dude looked like he could be the missing link - I wasn’t going to take his insults personally. I absent-mindedly pushed my bangs down over my forehead hoping to hide as much face as possible.

  Fuzzbottom looked like he wanted to swat me.

  “I think I may have seen the real murderer,” I said.

  Fuzzbottom waved at me to continue.

  “Last night I was outside having a cigarette…“

  At Fuzzbottom’s glazed look I hurried on.

  “Well there was this man – in black, and he wasn’t too happy I saw him. He came after me with a knife and he should have a mark from my bottle cap that will prove…”

  I continued through the whole story of my assailant and my epic bottle-cap-slinging defense. I finally seemed to catch his interest when I mentioned the man I had seen crouching by the house the same time Jackson’s murder occurred. I thought Jaime had reported it to the Six Pines police, but it seemed like news to Fuzzbottom.

  He stopped writing on his pad and put down his pen. He leaned over the desk and looked me in the eye. “So now you’re saying there was a masked knife-wielding ninja that leapt at you – who you disabled with an improvised lethal weapon?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t call a bottle cap a lethal weapon, officer, that’s a little harsh…”

  I was shaking so much at this turn around I prayed he didn’t hear the cache of bottle caps I kept in my coat pocket rattling around. I eyed Aphrodite and she shook her head.

  “Besides, Det. Fuzzbottom, I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. That man is the possible murderer of Jackson, and I was the victim.”

  “Do you have any wounds to prove your victim-ness?”

  My eyebrow rose. Victim-ness? Proof? “Well, no…”

  “How about eye witnesses to corroborate your self-defense story?”

  “No.”

  “Well let’s just hope then, for your sake, Big Head, that no one comes forward wanting to press charges against you for attacking them when it seems the poor person was just excitedly trying to get some chili through the front door!”

  “Oh, come on!” I groaned.

  He slammed his police notebook shut with force enough to cause a little wind to lift my bangs. I self-consciously patted them back down again. He looked up at me.

  “I don't think you're taking this murder seriously,” he went on. “I don't give a rat’s butt about the chili cook-off or your own personal issues with our wonderful Six Pines neighbors. We have a dead man's body that was knocked out and beaten with a crockpot that was in the hands of your boss. If and when you tell me anything that is actual evidence to the contrary, then please, for all our sakes – just stay in Kissing Bridge where you belong. We don’t like out-of-towners abusing our locals with their concealed weapons. Now leave before I decide to book you based on your own confession.”

  Aphrodite sunk her claws into me and I rose in haste.

  Oh boy, oh boy, did I want to throw out some of my practiced French rudeness on Fuzzbottom right now. I really think I could have gotten away with it because I know a couple really rude French words that I'm pretty sure he wouldn't understand, but I wasn't taking any chances in his case. I hurried to get out of Fuzzbottom’s office bent on a quick get away.

  CHAPTER 24

  I swung open the door from Fuzzbottom’s office and Ethel almost fell on the floor. She recovered nicely, belying her earlier gymnastic years, and straightened.

  “Ethel!” I exclaimed. “I’m sorry!” I thought she was waiting for me in the car where it was warm and toasty.

  She looked at me with chagrin. She’d been spying. I suddenly had a new respect for this snappy senior.

  Fuzzbottom wasn’t happy.

  “What were you doing out there?” he queried the innocent looking senior. “How did you get in here?”

  He looked down the hall as if he were going to yell at someone, caught sight of his Captain, fake smiled, and then glared at us.

  He looked at me and hissed, “Who is she?”

  I tried to figure out the best lie to least implicate Ethel. After all, her sister was a suspected murderer being held somewhere in this very building. Maybe it ran in the family.

  Ethel answered for herself. “Well hello, Detective. I was just telling my old friend from high school – your Captain Sykes, I believe – that this interview was going awfully long, and I really need to get home to get my medicine.”

  My brow shot up. I’m pretty sure that was a lie. The only medicine I ever saw Ethel take was in the form of a scone or extra cookie with her chamomile tea. I tried to reposition my face so I looked normal.

  Fuzzbottom was looking back and forth at us both now like he thought something was wrong but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The mention of Ethel knowing his Captain had taken away his egotistical bravado, and he just waved us away with a, “Don’t be leaving town I’m going to want to talk to you.”

  We shuffled out of the door hurriedly.

  Ethel stopped at the front desk as we passed and blew a kiss to the Captain. “Come in for breakfast when we open, Harry, and bring your wife with you. I’d love to see her again.”

  “Will do, Ethel! Tell Earl I’ll see him next week at the convention!”

  “Oh, and Harry,” she continued, “if you come across that letter we talked about or have more news on that lurking individual, please call me.”

  Harry tipped his hat. She smiled sweetly and I looked back over my shoulder to catch Fuzzbottom hanging out of his little office, taking in the interaction with his mouth curled in a snarl.

  ***

  It was raining again in Six Pines, and it drenched us as we ran to the van.

  Ethel jacked the car into drive and rolled up the mountain. The road home was windy and tree-lined and felt solitary and lonely. I think we were both thinking about Carol and that cell. Kissing Bridge just had a Mayberry RFT one-room kind of deal because there is no real crime that gets committed there. But Six Pines was a bigger city, so we had no idea what a cell there might look like. Poor Carol.

  Ethel shook her head. “I was so happy when I recognized Harry, but there wasn’t much he could do. They don't have that letter, and that’s her only alibi.”

  “And we have no idea who that guy lurking around was that came after me was either.”

  “So right now there is no other suspect than Carol,” Ethel confirmed.

  “Hey!” A bright idea hit me. “That guy that gave Summer the letter from Jackson – she said all she remembered was that he was wearing a white shirt and black pants.”

  Ethel waited.

  “That’s standard uniform for most upscale restaurants…maybe he works for one of the restaurants here that entered the contest!”

  Ethel’s face brightened. “We could get a list of the contestants from the city council. They run the contest and donate the money to local charities.”

  I pulled out our black-and-white tiger-striped notebook that was our designated planner. I wrote down – Get list of contestants.

  Another thought occurred to me. “I could go down the list and call each of them and ask them what their dress code was at the contest.”

  Ethel nodded. “Great idea. Chances are the killer was at the contest spying on Jackson and then followed him home.”

  I thought about it.

  Flakes of snow began to fall around the car windows and
I knew we were nearing the peaks of Kissing Bridge. The pines grew more majestic here and their emerald beauty stretched out on either side of the road. I just couldn’t get that figure chasing me out of my mind. Somewhere, someone was walking around with a souvenir from my bottle cap bullet.

  “Let’s go back to the guy I saw. He was over at Jackson’s the same time Carol was there. I know because I was using looking for Carol as an excuse to catch a quick cigarette.”

  Ethel shot me a glare. “In the middle of the contest, how could you?”

  “I was rattled – and Aunt Carol was missing – and if I hadn’t than I wouldn’t have seen the other person sneaking around Jacksons!”

  Ethel had to concede to that point, so she said nothing.

  Ethel had to concede to that point, so she let it go. “Did you talk to Jaime about the possible other suspect?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, ’cause the guy had chased me and I was freaked out, that’s why we went together to look for Carol. The problem is this isn’t his jurisdiction. This is Six Pines, so they have their own team.”

  “Are you sure it was a man?”

  “Pretty sure, he was much bigger than me…darn, Ethel, it was dark and I don’t wear glasses ’cause I’m vain. I think it was a man…the main concern should be that there IS another suspect. I can put him at the scene at the same time as the murder, so shouldn’t that let Carol out?”

  Ethel considered. “Not until they actually have him I wouldn’t think. You saw someone and they came after you, but my sister was the one over his dead body with the crockpot.”

  CHAPTER 25

  It was raining again in Six Pines, and it drenched us as we ran to get to the van.

  Ethel put the car into drive, and headed up the mountain. The road home was windy and tree-lined and felt solitary and lonely. I think we were both thinking about Carol and that cell. Kissing bridge just had a Mayberry RFT one-room kind of deal because there is no real crime that gets committed there. But Six Pines was a bigger city, so we had no idea what a cell there might look like. Poor Aunt Carol.

  Ethel shook her head. “I was so happy when I recognized Harry, but there wasn’t much he could do. They don't have that letter, and that’s her only alibi.”

  “And we have no idea who that guy lurking around was that came after me was either.”

  “So right now there is no other suspect than Carol.”

  “Hey!” A bright idea hit me. That guy that gave Summer the letter from Jackson – she said all she remembered was he was wearing a white shirt and black pants.”

  Ethel waited.

  “That’s standard uniform for most upscale restaurants…maybe he works for one of the restaurants here that entered the contest.” Ethel brightened.

  “We could get a list of the contestants from the city counsel. They run the contest and donate the money to local charities. I pulled out our black and white tiger striped notebook that was our designated planning book.

  I wrote down – get list of contestants.

  A thought occurred to me.

  “I could go down the list and call each of them and ask them what their dress code was at the contest?”

  Ethel nodded. “Great idea. Chances are the killer was at the contest spying on Jackson and then followed him home.”

  I thought about it.

  I looked at the snow beginning to fall, and knew we were nearing the peaks of Kissing Bridge. The pines grew more majestic here and their emerald beauty stretched out on either side of the road. I just couldn’t get that figure chasing me out of my mind. Somewhere, someone was walking around with a souvenir from my bottle cap bullet.

  “Let’s go back to the guy I saw. He was over at Jackson’s the same time Carol was there. I know because I used looking for Aunt Carol as an excuse to catch a quick cigarette.”

  Ethel gave me a glare. “In the middle of the contest how could you?”

  “I was rattled – and Aunt Carol was missing – and if I hadn’t than I wouldn’t have seen the other person sneaking around Jacksons!”

  Ethel had to concede to that point, so she said nothing.

  “Did you talk to Jaime about the possible other suspect?”

  I nodded. “Yeah cuz the guy had chased me I was freaked out, that’s why we went together to look for Carol. The problem is this isn’t his jurisdiction. This is Six Pines so they have their own team.”

  “Are you sure it was a man?”

  “Pretty sure, bigger than me for sure…darn Ethel it was dark and I don’t wear glasses cuz I’m vain. I think it was a man…the main concern should be that there IS another suspect. I can put him at the scene at the same time as the murder so shouldn’t that let Carol out?”

  Ethel considered. “Not until they actually have him I wouldn’t think. You saw someone and they came after you, but my sister was the one over his dead body with the crockpot.”

  CHAPTER 26

  We drove a long way without saying much. My phone rang. I looked down to see Elle’s name.

  Elle was my bestie, and she ran the Eagle’s Peak lodge along with her grandfather Earl, Ethel’s new husband.

  I had gotten to thinking after the murder that it was odd that Jackson’s sister, Helena, grew up here, but had never bothered to visit, except the day before her brother died. I had wondered if we needed to consider her as a suspect? She didn’t seem to like her brother so why was she here? Maybe she was after his money? She looked well off, and the family was known to have money. But Jackson was oil rich; they’d found it on his acreage right there in Six Pines. That was a whole other kind of rich.

  I wondered if she could have had someone kill her brother for the money? Did she hate him that much? And what about her son? He was big enough to have been the man I saw. Where was he during the murder, and did he have a telling bottle cap wound somewhere on his body as a reminder?

  I had called Elle, and asked her to check and see if any of the new lodgers up at the Eagle’s Peak Lodge met the description of Jackson’s sister and nephew. It made sense to me that anyone with money and any sense would stay up at the Eagle’s Peak lodge. The lodge had the nicest rooms and was always full of excitement because it was at the bottom of the hill and right next to the ski shop.

  I smiled when she told me the news. “Bingo!” I cheered as I waved frantically at Ethel to take the turn onto Eagle’s Peak Lane that led to the mountaintop and the lodge. She swerved left and headed up.

  “Thanks, Elle.” I hung up and beamed over at Ethel. “Jackson’s sister and her son are staying at the lodge. Elle said she just sat them down for a late lunch – and that Mia girl too.”

  “Who’s Mia?”

  “She’s Jackson’s fiancée, the Poodle. I told you about her. She’s the one that was with him at the café the other night when he came in and was hissing a fit over finding Carol. Remember I came in the next morning – you and Carol were making strawberry crème puffs?”

  Sometimes it was better to talk to Ethel in food terms. Everything seemed to crystalize around food and color.

  She perked up. “Yes, yes, the icing I made was the most precious pink – we’ll have to make some for Summer’s baby shower.”

  “Isn’t Summer having a boy?”

  Ethel waved it off. “He won’t be eating it, all the ladies that come will be. And goodness knows ladies love pink.”

  I couldn’t argue with her there.

  “So what about this Mia?” she said.

  “Well, Jackson was parading her around with a big ring on her finger but she didn’t look very happy. Had that Goth chick look. Pale skin, dark hair, wore all black. I think she had a nose piercing?”

  Ethel scrunched her nose at the thought of it. Suddenly her eyes lit up. “The girl from the chapel!”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. I scrambled to understand. “The chapel…”

  “When we got married, a girl stood up after Carol stopped the wedding and said she was Jackson’s girlfriend – and that she was pregna
nt!”

  “Pregnant?”

  Wow, I sat back in the bucket seat. I didn’t see that coming.

  CHAPTER 27

  Ethel turned the corner and headed up the last pass to the lodge. The epic peaks were in full view.

  “Why would a young thing like that want to marry and have old man Jennings’s baby?”

  We looked at each other. There was only one reason and it wasn’t his scintillating personality.

  “If she has his child, that’s going to be his only heir,” I said.

  Ethel said it first. “Then she is on the top of the list of suspects. Murders always have a motive, and nothing motivates like money.”