Purrfect Alibi

by Louise Lynn

And yet it had just happened.

  "Get his leash, Violet dear. Do you think Hazel woke up and went looking for us? There's really no other explanation for why he's here."

  "She may have," Violet said, her voice at least hushed, unlike Hazel's mother.

  Hazel groaned internally and glanced around her hedge prison for a way to escape without alerting the murderer standing inches from her.

  Now he knew her mother and Violet were there too. Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

  Hazel really only had one advantage—the element of surprise.

  That didn't feel like much of a weapon when she was curled in a hedge and Tyson Bridger was standing next to her, even if he was unaware of her presence.

  She would've preferred something sturdy. Or at least something that would hurt.

  Speaking of which, the branches tugged at her hair, and she clenched her teeth to keep from making a sound. Unlike her mother and Violet who were having a conversation about why the spirit board hadn't worked.

  "I told you it would only work at the exact time of death and the place of the murder. He obviously wasn't killed in the center of the maze where his body was found, but somewhere else," Maureen Hart explained.

  Violet sighed. "Well, if they don't know exactly where he was actually killed, how are we supposed to find it?"

  Hazel dug her fingers into the dirt and pulled out a stick. Too flimsy. The next she tried wouldn’t come free. The third was perfect. It was thick, and the end was pointy enough to hurt. And even better, it didn't seem brittle enough to break on the first attempt.

  Still, she'd have to be fast, and the way her muscles ached, she wasn't sure she could manage.

  Well—she had to.

  Maureen and Violet's footsteps clomped closer, and if they came upon Tyson Bridger, she didn't like to think what he might do. He’d already killed one person for his greed. There was no saying how many he might attempt.

  That meant Hazel had to act now.

  She lined up the stick with the meaty part of his calf and stabbed at it as hard as she could.

  The stick met flesh, and he cried.

  Hazel pulled it back and stabbed him again.

  Another cry, and this time, he bent forward and grabbed the stick, so she took that as her cue to roll toward him. Hazel thrashed out of the hedge and tumbled right into the bent over Tyson Bridger. Thankfully, he wasn't particularly large or fit, so he went down like a sack of potatoes.

  "I'm here, and I have the killer," Hazel cried as Tyson Bridger lifted his arms to cover his face.

  Hazel frowned at the man crumpled beneath her, and carefully got to her feet.

  "Killer? Are you insane? You just attacked me on my own property! What are you doing here?" he cried and backed up on his palms and heels, as if trying to get as far away from her as possible.

  However, when Maureen and Violet stepped out of the opening in the hedge maze behind him, he stopped. His expression changed into that same dangerous sneer Hazel saw in the photo on Brandon's phone.

  Anthony Ray pulled free of Violet.

  "Hazel! There you are. What happened to you?"

  "I fell," Hazel said and tried to brush some of the dirt and branches from her jacket. "And you can stop lying, Mr. Bridger."

  Anthony Ray trotted up to her and rubbed against her legs. Then he looked at Tyson and gave him a long hiss.

  "Lying about what? Who have I killed? That boy? Why would I bother murdering someone on my own property? For what reason?" Tyson said and let out a joyless laugh.

  Hazel gave him a level stare. "I'm glad you asked, Mr. Bridger. You killed him because he caught you planning insurance fraud. I’m not sure how many priceless antiquities you've lost in the last fourteen years or so, but I think the first was that yacht that sank during an unfortunate accident at prom. I'm not sure if you actually had anything to do with that, but once you got the check from the insurance agency, you realized that maybe your antiques were worth a little bit more gone than they were actually intact. However, losing the real thing hurt too much, didn't it?"

  He shook his head and slowly climbed to his feet. "This is harassment. As soon as I get the sheriff down here all three of you will be arrested for trespassing."

  Hazel’s mom snorted. "I doubt that. Go on, Hazy. This is getting interesting."

  Hazel grinned at her mother. "So instead of putting the real antique out, you started replacing them with replicas. Only the insurance agency didn't know that. Because when the appraisers came by, you’d show them the real pieces. Yet when a piece went missing, it was always a replica. But the insurance paid out for the real thing. You couldn't do too many pieces at once, but you do throw an awful lot of high risk parties at your property. Dances with teenagers. Teenagers who aren't particularly careful around antiques.”

  Her mother's flashlight shone between Tyson, Violet, and Hazel herself. "That makes a lot of sense. More sense than Jay Turner anyway."

  Hazel nodded. "But there was a problem this last time, wasn't there? You thought Brandon knocking down your Nara era oil lamp was perfect. You had a good reason to suspect it being missing because someone had already knocked it over, but what you didn't expect was that he would catch you burying it on the property."

  Tyson Bridger shook his head and bared his teeth. "You have no proof. I gave the police evidence of Jay Turner attacking that poor boy. I left the party long before they even did. There is a video of me driving away."

  Hazel's hand closed around the phone in her pocket, and she slowly drew it out. "There may be, but I have Brandon Sizemore's phone. And there's a photo of you minutes before he died. I think this is better proof than your video. As to how you got back? I'm assuming you drove back after everyone had gone home—or you thought everyone had gone home. Of course, there were a few stragglers. Brandon was the last one here. After Amber left him walking back toward the house, she saw a car come up the drive. I assume it was you, and Brandon caught you after he tried the door and found it locked. He was looking for his jacket and saw you instead. Being a teenager of this day and age, he took a photo."

  Tyson Bridger glanced between all three of them. "If you really think I'm a cold-blooded killer, it's kind of stupid for you to tell me exactly what I did while you're all alone on my property." His voice sounded deeper than before—angrier.

  Hazel shook her head. "We're not alone. There are three of us and one of you. After he took the photo of you, you tried to get his phone, but he ran into the hedge maze. He threw it into a bush, and in your rage, you shoved him down the steps near the center of the maze. Brandon fell and broke his neck. He probably bashed his head on the steps as well. You dragged his body to the rosebush and then went looking for the phone, after you cleaned those bloody stairs. In fact, I'd say you've been looking for it every night since he died."

  Tyson Bridger opened his mouth to say something, and the friendly wail of sirens filled the air. The whites of his eyes shone in the light of the moon, and he spun on his heel and turned to run.

  Hazel was about to sprint after him, but Violet got there first. The spirit board was tucked under her arm, she yanked it free and swung at his back. The man crumpled like a second sack of potatoes, and Violet sat on his back and hit him in the head with the board a second time.

  "Violet!" Hazel cried and limped up to the teenager.

  "You said it was best used to brain someone. I wanted to try it out, so he wouldn't escape," she said with a smile much too broad for that early in the morning after everything Hazel had just been through.

  Tyson Bridger groaned, but stayed put until the police showed up.

  As Sheriff Cross and his deputies tumbled into the hedge maze, the tension in Hazel's body released, and she was sure she would've turned into a Hazel puddle if not for the strong arm that wrapped around hers.

  "What on earth?" the sheriff said and looked between the four of them.

  Hazel’s father shuffled behind and pulled Hazel’s mother into a hug.

>   "It's not her fault, Uncle Colton. Me and Mrs. Hart wanted to use the spirit board and we snuck in here. Hazel came to find us and caught the killer instead. And then you found us."

  Sheriff Cross touched a spot near Hazel's chin and she flinched. "Is it bad?"

  "You’ve got a bit of a scrape. Let’s get you cleaned up, and you can tell me exactly how this man is our killer."

  Hazel nodded. "Deal."

  Chapter 23

  It took the rest of the night and day for all of the evidence of Tyson Bridger’s crimes to be accounted for.

  For one, Sheriff Cross sent the surveillance video of Jay attacking Brandon to a friend of his in the SFPD and found that what Hazel said was right. The footage was from earlier that night and the timestamp had been faked.

  Brandon's phone was now in the sheriff's possession, along with the fake Nara oil lamp and the shirt buried next to it, which happen to have Brandon Sizemore’s blood on it, further incriminating Tyson Bridger.

  The police also got a warrant to search the Rockwell Manor and found all sorts of cases of insurance fraud over the years. Hazel had been right. He always kept the pieces he’d claimed had been stolen or broken. He just put them in hidden safes throughout the estate to fool the insurance company to pay out.

  And he only did a small piece every few years to avoid rousing suspicion. If Brandon Sizemore hadn't caught him in the act, Tyson Bridger probably would've gone on doing it who knows how long.

  According to the sheriff, the man cracked after a good hour of questioning. Probably since he realized the case against him was much too strong. He’d confessed to everything.

  Hazel herself got cleaned up at the local ER, then her mother drove her home. She even left an early-morning message for Michael to run the shop by himself, if possible, and promised her mother she'd sleep in.

  With the killer found, the dust started to settle around Cedar Valley once again, like it always did.

  That Friday, the memorial service for Brandon was held, and nearly the entire town attended. Travis cried and gave a lovely little speech, standing next to, of all people, Amber. She actually held his hand, and the whole thing brought tears to Hazel's eyes.

  Robbie Smith put an arm around Travis when he got off the stage, and Jay rustled his hair. At least he had a good support system. He’d get through this.

  Travis gave Hazel a watery smile as the service ended. "Thanks. For finding the killer and clearing Jay. I told you he didn’t do it."

  Hazel nodded. "You were right. Sorry I doubted him. What are your plans after graduation?"

  Travis shrugged. He wore an oversized sweatshirt with the Cedar Valley High logo on it. She had a suspicion it had been Brandon’s. "I don’t know. Scholarship, maybe. I think I might want to go to Sacramento State, if I can."

  "That’s a good plan," Hazel said and gave him a hug.

  As Travis excused himself, Jay made an appearance. "Hey. I, uh, needed to thank you for proving I was innocent. Otherwise. . ."

  Otherwise, he may have ended up in prison. Hazel shrugged. "Not a problem. But, try not to get into any more fights. Celia has a high opinion of you. It’d be nice if you lived up to it all the time."

  Jay clenched his jaw but nodded. "Okay. You’re right. I need to settle a bit. I’m not eighteen anymore. Hey, if you ever want to come by the Taproom, drinks are on me. Even Shirley Temples."

  "Get some decent wine, and I’ll take you up on it," Hazel said with a smile.

  Esther was looking more frazzled than earlier in the week and glowered as Hazel approached the table of food. "I can’t believe all of you going off in the middle of the night like that," she said for the hundredth time.

  "Do you want us to wake you up next time?" Hazel said and plucked a cupcake from the rack.

  "I hope there isn’t a next time. And I’m glad you’re all safe and a killer is behind bars. And that this week is over. I need a full night of sleep," she said and smoothed her hands over her sensible black dress.

  Hazel nodded. A week ago, they were having an entirely different conversation just a few hours later at the Spring Fling Dance. Now, they were at a memorial service. Things changed much too quickly. Opportunities slipped away.

  Hazel intended not to let anymore pass her by. "Ask Raj out. If you like him, go on a date. You guys have been beating around the bush for months."

  Esther gasped. "You’re one to talk."

  Hazel ate the cupcake in four bites, wiped her lips, and shook her head. "I’m going to dinner with the sheriff tonight."

  Esther chuckled. "Good luck. I’m glad. And, maybe I will. Ruth and Ripa could have a play date."

  Hazel smiled and ducked out.

  When she got outside she found Violet sitting cross-legged in the back of her truck reading a library book. This time it was Crime and Punishment.

  "Haven't you had enough murder for this week?" Hazel asked and leaned against the side of the truck.

  Violet shrugged. "I guess. But it was next on my to read list so here it is. I hear you have a big date tonight with Uncle Colton. It’s about time. Where are you two going?"

  Hazel took a deep breath of the cool spring air. She hadn’t broken anything in her tumble, but the scrape on her chin was apparent and she had plenty of bruises to show for it. Still, even that couldn’t dull her spirits. "Mexican, I think. I want tacos."

  "Violet, what did I tell you about sitting in other people’s cars without their permission?" Sheriff Cross said, his tone firm but with a light edge to it.

  Violet rolled her eyes at him. "Hazel doesn’t care. She’s cool. Unlike you."

  Hazel shook her head. "I don’t mind. You heard her. I’m cool. Are you ready?"

  Sheriff Cross’s deep blue eyes sparkled in the light of the setting sun, and he smiled at her. It was a smile that held a promise Hazel had never noticed before.

  She did now.

  "Always," he said, and she believed him.

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  Coming May 9, 2018

  Hazel Hart feels like a walking shadow.

  When the Shakespeare festival consumes Cedar Valley, Hazel is hired to photograph the performances and the actors, but she catches something through her lens that no one expected to see live on stage—a murder!

  The lead in Macbeth is the victim, and the list of suspects is as complicated as A Midsummer Night’s Dream, including everyone from the actor’s diva wife to the sheriff’s own niece. Good thing Hazel is there to suss out the truth.

  But as she creeps closer to the killer, accidents plague the production at every end. Will Hazel unmask the murderer before another life is claimed?

  Read the rest of the Hazel Hart Cozy Mystery Series!

  Hazel Hart is having a terrible day.

  A man is murdered in her Wild @ Hart Photo Studio, and the new sheriff in Cedar Valley not only declares it a crime scene and insults Hazel’s fashion sense, but he also suspects Hazel of the murder!

  In order to clear her name and restore her shop’s reputation, Hazel must find the real killer. Problem is, the list of suspects and their secrets seem to grow the deeper Hazel digs. Not to mention the mysterious figure who keeps showing up in Hazel’s photos.

  Can she unearth the killer before time runs out?

  Meowsical Death: A Hazel Hart Cozy Mystery Two

  Hazel Hart can’t catch a break.

  While working as the photographer of the local elementary school, Hazel stumbles across the body of the music teacher. The woman has been murdered, and Hazel’s own mother is a prime suspect!

  Now, Hazel has to clear her mother’s name, and go head to head against the handsome and stubborn Sheriff Cross. Only, that’s not as easy as it seems. The victim’s life and death is shro
uded in years of secrets, including decades old blackmail. As the list of suspects grows, the more dangerous it becomes.

  In a race against the clock, Hazel must pinpoint the real killer before it’s too late.

  Read the Maritime Teashop Series:

  There has been a murder in San Bastion Bay and Olivia Darrow just might be next. Not the best birthday present she could have asked for.

  Now a potential suspect in the murder investigation, Olivia must find out who poisoned her least favorite customer and stop the killer from striking again. Unfortunately, her list of suspects includes nearly the entire town and a hooded figure seems determined to ensure the culprit remains hidden. In a race against the clock, will Olivia uncover the truth before it’s too late? Or has she been framed to take the fall?

  Maritime Teashop Book 2

  A film crew enters San Bastion Bay, and the movie turns deadly when a starlet who hailed from the small town is killed on set.

  Olivia Darrow must investigate the murder of the former prom queen turned movie star before the police arrest an innocent man. Unfortunately, the film crew and the town are full of potential suspects and dangerous secrets. In a race against time, can Olivia uncover the real killer before she becomes the next target?

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for reading my Hazel Hart cozy mystery! I had such an amazing time writing this book and I really hope you enjoyed Purrfect Alibi. If you did, please leave a review.

  No matter how short or long, I appreciate any sort of feedback. Being an independent author means this is my livelihood, and every review makes a huge difference.

  Reviews are the best way to support me, so I can continue doing what I love, which is bringing you, the readers, more mysteries in Cedar Valley.