by Louise Lynn
"Did you find anything interesting?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible.
Sheriff Cross stared at the cupcake in his hands, as if it might do a magic trick or answer a question he was willing it to answer. "Not yet. Forensics just got done going over the scene, and the M.E. has the body right now. The parents were hysterical, as you can imagine. And I have to hold a press conference later today. Right now, the deputies are questioning everyone who was at the dance as well. Basically, it's going to be a long night."
Hazel glanced at her watch. It was hardly past one p.m.
He hadn't asked for help again, and she wasn't going to butt into another investigation. Especially one she didn't have any personal stakes in. But still, her mind churned over the things she'd seen the night before and the way they found the body that morning.
Hedge maze.
Broken neck.
Brandon Sizemore was not a small guy. At least six three and thick. For someone to break his neck. . .
Michael smiled when they stepped into the studio. "Was she at the bakery?"
Sheriff Cross nodded.
"Thought so."
Hazel shook her head. "You can get off early. I don't think we'll have a lot of people dropping by the rest of the day."
And if they did, Hazel could handle a few Old West shoots herself.
She had the crime scene photos ready to go, so she handed the CD she’d burned them on to the sheriff after they stepped into her office. He tapped it against his thigh.
"You sure you don't have any leads?" she asked.
Sheriff Cross shook his head slowly. "Why do I get the feeling that you need to tell me something? Is this about that kid who got into an altercation with the victim last night?"
Hazel let out a breath. "A little. His name is Travis Turner."
The name felt weird on her tongue.
Sheriff Cross’s eyes widened, and he pulled out his little notepad. "Anything else?"
That knot tightened, but she nodded. "It's probably nothing, but Travis's uncle also got into a bit of an argument with Brandon."
Sheriff Cross raised an eyebrow. "Uncle? Who's that?"
She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She thought of how easy it would've been to say his name before. After he'd broken Celia's heart for the third time, and she had to comfort her crying best friend again and again.
But now, after she'd seen him the night before, it wasn't so easy to admit what he’d done. Especially when it was the same thing her mother had done. Had a silly argument with someone right before they died.
Still, a crime had been committed, and if she had any information that could help solve it, she couldn't keep it from Sheriff Cross.
"Jay Turner. The bartender."
Chapter 6
"You told the sheriff that Jay killed Brandon Sizemore?" Celia hissed when Hazel stepped up to the counter at CATfeinated the next morning.
The coffee shop wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been the day before. Since they found Brandon, she assumed all the teens figured they could stay at home and mourn. Or, at least, not do it in the coffee shop.
Hazel blinked, her brain not functioning properly since she hadn't had any caffeine yet. "What?"
Celia's perfectly sculpted brows drew together. "You told the sheriff that Jay killed someone. I know you don't like him, but really?"
Hazel shook her head and reached across the counter to grab Celia's hands. "I didn't tell him Jay killed anyone. Jay had an argument with the boy the night before. He was standing up for his nephew. It was pertinent information."
Celia raised an eyebrow and went about getting Hazel's order ready. "Really? The same kind of information that made the sheriff point a finger at your mom?"
Hazel pouted. "Fine. It's a similar situation. But I can't hide things from the sheriff. I don't think Jay did it, but if he didn't, what's the harm in the sheriff talking to him? He should have an alibi, right?"
Celia gave her a withering look that she must've learned from Esther at some point. "You really saw him have an argument with that kid?"
Hazel let out an exasperated sigh. When she came here this morning, she hadn't even come close to anticipating that her best friend would be upset at her for what she told Sheriff Cross yesterday. And, she should have realized.
"Yes. Travis and Robbie Smith were talking behind the Manor, and I told Jay that Travis and Brandon had fought inside, and Jay was shoving the kid against a wall and yelling at him. I thought that was kind of important information. But, again, I don't think Jay did it," she said and wondered if she believed it.
Jay Turner was one of her least favorite people in Cedar Valley. Well, least favorite people who were still alive. And he got into plenty of fights in high school.
But murder? She wasn't sure about that.
Celia slid the bagel and latte across the counter and crossed her arms. "It just looks worse than it did for your mom. Jay had trouble before."
Hazel raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh? Let me guess. It happened when I was in college?"
Celia's eyes narrowed, but they didn't look as dangerous or angry as they had before. "Yeah. Just a little. A few fights. Nothing major but, the police look at things like that. They'll say, ‘oh he has a record, so he must've done it.’"
Hazel took an oversized bite of her bagel to think while she chewed, "Record or not, if he has a solid alibi, Sheriff Cross isn’t going to pin it on him. He has an alibi, right?"
Celia shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I just heard about it last night."
"How do you know I'm the one who told Sheriff Cross?"
It was Celia’s turn to look apologetic. "Jay assumed it was you when he told me last night. Apparently, the sheriff held him at the office for hours questioning him. He didn't say anything about an alibi though," she said and worried her bottom lip.
Hazel didn't know what that meant. Either Jay was angry enough about her telling Sheriff Cross what she'd seen that he wanted to go spout off to his ex-girlfriend, or he really didn't have an alibi.
"Did he say anything about the nephew?"
Celia shrugged. "I didn't even realize Travis had moved up here until Jay told me about it last night."
Hazel nodded and took another bite of her bagel. She usually ate it on the porch, but there wasn't anybody standing in line at the moment. And she knew it was best to get Celia's forgiveness and not let things fester.
"Nice of your old boyfriend to go to you just to complain about me," Hazel said and took her first glorious sip of coffee that morning.
Celia rolled her eyes. "What else was he supposed to do? He had to close the bar for the whole night. He was just upset. You should go apologize."
Hazel nodded, but she wasn’t about to do that yet. For one, the Taproom wasn't open at nine a.m. on a Sunday morning. At least, she hoped it wasn't. "Fine. I'll apologize. Later."
Celia gave her a level stare. "You promise. How about tonight?"
Hazel tried to think of anything more important she had to do but couldn't come up with an excuse. "Fine. Tonight. Does it mean I have to go into the bar?"
Celia laughed. "It's not going to kill you."
"If I don't get hepatitis, it won't," Hazel muttered under her breath, and Celia ignored her.
Hazel had given Michael that Sunday off, so she was in the studio alone. Around noon, her father popped in with lunch from Esther.
Hazel raised her eyebrow. "Did she make that for everyone or just me?" she said with a grin. She'd been planning on going down to the Italian place, but this was better. And cheaper. And probably less fattening.
"You know Esther. I guess she figured since she had to bake all those extra cakes and cupcakes she might as well make casserole too. And she was sure to stuff as many vegetables in it as she could," her father said with a grin and started peeking around as he always did.
"You didn't come to gossip about the murder too, did you? Or tell me I shouldn't have told the police about Jay Turner."
Her father shook his head and rubbed his beard. It had gone gray at some point, though she couldn't really remember when. "Course not. If you saw something suspicious, you need to tell the police about it. How is the sheriff?"
Hazel felt her cheeks heat and shrugged. "Tired. And really busy. This case is going to be hard on him."
She wasn't certain why she said it, but she knew it was true. A teenager was dead, and the town wanted answers. And a murderer.
Her father nodded again. "Are you going to help him with this one?"
It was usually her mother asking her that. Or her sister. Now it was her dad. Maybe it was a family thing. "I already photographed the crime scene. For free, by the way. But he hasn’t asked me to do anything else so. . ." She popped the lid on the Tupperware that held her lunch. A divine mix of chicken and spices met her nose and she smiled. Hazel herself might not know her way around casserole, but Esther sure did.
Her father looked like he wanted to say more, but a family of four popped in and asked about the price of an Old West photo.
"I can do it," her father said and quoted them the price.
Hazel giggled to herself as he led them into the Old West studio and started setting up. She knew he wouldn't ask to be paid for his work, and they probably wouldn't understand how amazing it was that a prize-winning National Geographic photographer was willing to shoot them in costume.
Still, it gave him something to do while he was between assignments.
Hazel was halfway through her lunch when someone she definitely didn't expect to see knocked on her office door. It was open, so she could look into the foyer and watch any clients who might swing by.
However, this wasn't a client.
"Travis," she said and quickly swallowed a mouthful of casserole.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he said and wrung his hands. He glanced around the foyer, as if someone might overhear.
Hazel ushered him into her office and shut the door. She pointed at Michael's seat. "I'm sorry about what I told the sheriff about your uncle. I don't think he did it, but it was relevant information." She settled back in her own seat.
Travis didn't sit. Instead, he paced, glancing at her computers and the floor and the things on the desks. Basically, anywhere but her face. "Yeah. He didn't do it. That's the thing. I–"
Hazel dabbed her mouth with a napkin and felt Anthony Ray wind around her ankles. She usually brought him to the studio when she was going to be there all day and she didn't have a client that was averse to cats. "Do you have something you need to tell me?" She glanced at her cell phone.
If he confessed, she could reach it and call the police.
Travis shoved his fingers through his dirty blond hair, and his shoulders slumped. He looked like his uncle, though his hair was lighter and his brows a bit thicker. But he still had that cutting charm that Jay milked well into his thirties. "I know my uncle didn't do it, but he said you helped crack some other cases. He said he watched you get someone to confess. Not to murder or anything but. . . Jay didn't do it. Neither did I, but I know I had a fight with him that night. With Brandon. And things look—" He shook his head and his hands trembled.
Hazel's breath stuck in her throat, but she nodded. "I guess I helped on two other cases, but I'm not technically a detective." She internally kicked herself for repeating what Sheriff Cross told her after they first met. And kept reminding her at least monthly afterward.
"So? You helped find the real killer before, who says you can't do it again? I can't have Jay get tossed in jail over this. He has a record, and he’s all I have. I can't go back to Reno with my mom and. . . ." His voice broke off, and his bottom lip wobbled.
He looked about as close to crying as anyone Hazel had ever seen, and she carefully handed him a Kleenex. "I know about your mom. Jay told me. So, I know why you don't want to go back."
Travis let out a huff of bitter laughter. "You have no idea about my mom. I can’t go back there. Will you help me? Help us? I mean, I can't pay you or anything, but I’ll work here for free. I'll do anything. I know Jay didn't kill Brandon. And I would never hurt him," he said, voice trembling with the rest of him.
Hazel watched him and nodded slowly.
Well, Sheriff Cross wasn't going to be happy about this, but she couldn't turn Travis down. Not when he was probably telling the truth.
So, Hazel finished the last bite of her casserole, barely tasting it, then guided Travis into the seat across from her. Once there, she fished a pad and pen from her desk and leaned forward. "Okay. I'll help you as best I can. But you have to promise me one thing. You have to tell me the truth. All of it. Got it?"
Travis stared at his hands, balled into fists in his lap, and nodded stiffly. Anthony Ray jumped up and rubbed his face on them.
Well, it was a good sign. She didn't think Anthony Ray would be that nice to a murderer. Then again, who knew. He'd killed his fair share of rodents.
"Okay. I promise to tell the truth."
Hazel sucked in a breath and wrote down everything he told her.
Chapter 7
"You were friends with Brandon Sizemore?" Hazel asked and tried not to sound so incredulous. She failed.
Travis flinched and shrugged. "I guess. A little. I mean, I kind of ran with that group. I know I don't seem like the type to hang out with the really popular kids, but they were really nice to me when I moved up here. So. . ."
Hazel bit back the urge to say he seemed exactly like the type to hang out with the popular kids. "If you were friends, why were you fighting that night?" She tapped her pen on the pad of paper and watched his body language—something the detectives in the LAPD told her about. Look for a sign to see if he was lying or not.
Excessive fidgetiness, sweating, or not making eye contact were a few of them.
Travis let out a heavy sigh and tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie. There was a hole in one, and he shoved his thumb through it. "I don't know. He'd been on my case lately. It's like he was mad at me, and I don't really know why. It's not like I did anything to him. Or I'm the one that made Amber break up with him," he said and finally met Hazel's eyes.
"Amber?" Hazel jotted the name down.
"Amber Ross. She's his girlfriend. Was his girlfriend. She was the queen of the dance. Blonde and a cheerleader. I don't know if you remember, but you took a picture of them."
Hazel did, though all the blondes at the dance blended together into one amorphous mass. "And they broke up before the dance?"
Travis nodded. "A week before. It was a huge thing around school. She got into a shouting match with him and the teachers had to separate them. And then she did what she always does, which is cry and play victim." Travis rolled his eyes at that.
Hazel remembered girls like that in her high school too. "If they broke up before the dance, why did they want their picture taken together?"
Travis frowned. "Amber talked him into it. After that, he started acting like a jerk to me. But I wasn't going to take it lying down. Jay always said I had to stand up for myself. So that's what I did. But I didn't kill him. Amber though—she is crazy. During the fight at school, she basically said: if you end it, I’ll end you."
Hazel let out a heavy sigh and turned to her computer. She flicked through a couple of the photos from the dance and landed on the one that she thought was Amber Ross. "Is this her?"
The girl in the photo was part of the group Travis had been hanging out with that night. She’d been preoccupied with selfies, and wore a sparkly silver dress, all slinky and revealing. She wore so much makeup Hazel had wondered if she was in drama or something. But a cheerleader made more sense.
Travis's expression soured. "Yeah. That's her."
Just like Hazel thought. It was the girl crying in CATfeinated the day before. But she didn't act like she was upset that he'd broken up with her, more that he was missing.
But that could've been an act.
"Okay, I think that's just about everything," Hazel said and glanced a
t her copious notes. Most of it was teen drama that she didn't think was related to the murder, but it's not like she could leave stones unturned. Though, there was one thing he hadn't told her about. "Why were you talking to Robbie Smith?"
Travis went pale and his eyes turned shifty. "Uh, no reason. Well, that's kind of—Fine. I didn't want you to think anything weird, but I was asking him about getting a job at the Lodge after I graduate. I know I said that I’d apprentice for you, I need work. I can't let Jay keep supporting me after high school. Like I said, I can’t go back to Reno so, I'm trying to do whatever I can to make a living on my own."
His shoulders deflated a bit at that, and Hazel decided to stop the questions for now. She wasn't about to hold his need for money against him.
Hazel smiled and patted his arm. "That's good for now. I'll see what I can do. Do you have any idea where Amber Ross might be today?"
Travis's eyes got wide. "Church?"
"It's well after noon. I think church has been out for a while."
His cheeks went pink, and he ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh. Amber and her friends hang out at Lakefront Park sometimes. She might be there."
Hazel knew the spot. It was popular with tourists in the summer, but it was a little too early in the year for that. At least the sun was out, though there was still a sharp chill in the air.
"Thank you. If I have any more questions, I'll contact you."
Travis nodded and stood, holding out his hand.
Hazel raised an eyebrow but shook it regardless. "Should I do anything else to help? Question people or–"
Hazel bit her bottom lip, unsure if she should say yes or not. Saying no made her a bit of a hypocrite, considering that's what Sheriff Cross always did to her, but Travis was only a teenager. And this looking for murderers business got dangerous from time to time. "I think I can handle it right now."
With a nod, Travis hurried out.
By the time he left, her father had wrapped up his Old West shoot and popped his head into her office. "I don't know how to use your payment thing-a-ma-bob," he said and held up the iPad with a little card reader on top.