“You think Tricia stole your boots?” asked Heather.
“Well, who else would do it?” Ray asked. “She didn’t like me, and she was a thief.”
“Maybe you just misplaced them?” Amy suggested. “Or you used them to kill somebody and then got rid of them?”
“No,” Ray said. “My rainboots were missing two days before she died. You didn’t see me in boots when you came to that art session, did you?”
“I guess not,” Heather said.
“I think we would have noticed rainboots inside a building on a sunny day,” Amy agreed.
“But that doesn’t mean that they were missing,” Heather said. “You could have chosen not to wear them.”
"They were missing for two days, and I thought Tricia took them to be spiteful. That’s why I took her propeller,” Ray said. “And since I’m admitting that I can tell you that I didn’t go out drinking the night she died. I was adding the propeller quick to a statue in my yard. I was trying to hide it.”
“Why didn’t you just get rid of it?” asked Amy.
“Because I wanted to use it in my tree,” Ray said. “Tricia was right about that. It would look cool as part of the design. And I thought it was fitting for me to use her idea after she tried to steal mine twice.”
“Did anyone see you at home that night attaching the propeller?” Ryan asked.
“My one neighbor did come out and yell at me at some point,” Ray said. “He said I was being too loud at night.”
“We’ll check on that,” Ryan said.
“I didn’t kill anybody,” Ray said. “And since I told you about taking the propeller already, I guess I can tell you something else. It might be a clue.”
The Note
Ray led them back into the room and picked up his jacket by his art project.
“What’s going on?” Lucy asked. “Is he a suspect?”
“I won’t be after I show them this,” Ray said, going through his pockets.
Kendall and Lucy hurried closer to Ray as well as the investigators. Ray found what he was looking for and handed the crumpled note to Heather.
“This was with the propeller when I took it. It must have gotten stuck on it when I got it out of the studio,” he said.
“You did take her propeller?” Kendall said. “I was telling her that is must have been some sort of accident because our artists wouldn’t do something so dishonest.”
Ray shrugged. “She kept stealing my ideas. And she went too far when she took my shoes.”
“We don’t know that she took your shoes,” Heather said.
“What does the note say?” Amy asked.
“It says: You can’t do this!” Heather said.
"It's a shame we won't be able to get any prints off of it," Ryan said. "But with Ray moving and crumpling it, I don't think we'll be able to recover anything."
“That might not be necessary,” Kendall said. “I think I recognize that handwriting. It’s Lincoln’s, isn’t it?”
Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. It might be anyone’s.”
Kendall collected her bag and took out a sign-up sheet from one of her classes. Lincoln’s name and contact information was written on it, and the shape of the letters matched perfectly. Both the note and his signature had the same wavy loops.
"That's a match," Ryan said.
“But it couldn’t have been Lincoln who killed her,” Lucy said. “Everyone knows he has band practice right after our sessions, and they go on all night.”
“The drummer was sick,” Heather said. “They had to end early.”
“You can’t keep jamming without someone keeping the beat,” Amy said.
“I think it’s time we had another chat with Lincoln,” said Ryan.
Lincoln opened the door and didn’t like seeing the private investigators joined by a detective.
“Something tells me that you’re not here to buy demo tape of Lincoln and the Loggers,” he said.
"No," Ryan said. "We're here to talk more about Tricia Mollins.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Lincoln said. “I was seeing her sort of. But, like I said before, it was casual. And I didn’t see her after I left that night.”
“We’ve come across some new information,” Heather said. “A note you left for her.”
“Is this your handwriting?” Ryan asked, showing him the paper.
“Yeah,” Lincoln said. “And I wrote it, but it doesn’t have anything to do with her murder.”
“What are you telling her she can’t do?” asked Heather.
“You added an exclamation point to it,” Amy said. “That makes it look more dramatic and angrier.”
“It’s nothing,” said Lincoln.
Ryan said, “It looks like you were having a fight with your lover, and because she was found dead soon after you wrote this, it’s not nothing.”
“I wrote that a few days before she died,” Lincoln said.
Heather had to admit that the timing tracked. The note needed to be stuck to the propeller that Ray stole from the studio a day or two before the more murderous crime.
"But what were you upset about?” Heather asked.
“I was just telling her not to go through with a stupid idea of hers. She wanted to take Ray’s special paint to annoy him because she said that he kept stealing her ideas. I left the note near her materials so she wouldn’t try and take his stuff while I wasn’t there. I knew it would get her into trouble,” Lincoln said. “Though I didn’t think it would be that much trouble.”
“You think stealing the paint was what led to her death?” asked Ryan.
“It makes as much sense as anything else,” said Lincoln. “If I knew this tree competition was going to be so deadly, I never would have gotten involved.”
"He just doesn't seem upset enough about this death,” Amy said. “The lady he was dating was just murdered, and he’s being very indifferent about it.”
“I’m not indifferent. I’d rather she was alive than dead,” said Lincoln. “But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
"See, that still doesn’t seem sincerely sad,” said Amy.
“And he doesn’t have a great alibi,” Heather said to the others.
Lincoln didn’t like being talked about while he was in the room and jumped at the bait. He started talking. “I don’t have a great alibi, but if I did kill her, don’t you think I would have tried and gotten a better one? I could have gone back to meet some of my band members and tricked them about how long I was gone.”
“See what he came up with?” Amy said. “He does have a criminal mind.”
"Look,” Lincoln said. “How was she supposed to have been killed?”
“We were thinking that someone could have been strong enough to throw her onto the sharp points,” Heather said.
“Then I couldn’t have done it,” Lincoln said.
“You have big arm muscles,” Amy said.
“Yeah. But strained one of them last week. I’ve tried to hide it, so people don’t notice I’m not making certain movements. But it hurts if I extend my left arm up to high. I tried a dance move at a band practice and hurt it. My bandmates can back me up. It’s been bad all week,” Lincoln said.
“Adrenaline could have helped you move it,” Amy said.
“And there is a ladder to consider now too,” said Heather.
“I didn’t kill her,” Lincoln said. “You have to believe me.”
“We have to follow the evidence where it leads us,” said Ryan.
“And right now, it’s telling us it was someone from the studio,” said Heather.
A Bright Idea
“There’s certainly no shortage of holiday cheer here,” Heather said.
“I’m practically blinded by it,” Amy said, dramatically shielding her eyes.
"As long as there are good donuts here, the décor doesn't really matter," Eva said.
“And now the store looks like a shining beacon of deliciousness,” Leila
said.
They were sitting at the ladies’ usual table a Donut Delights and were enjoying the Spiced Maple Donuts more than overpowering light display. After they had hung up all the many decorations that Mr. Rankle had given them, the store was overflowing. All the flat surfaces that were not being used to bake or house donuts were covered with light-up poinsettias and shiny stars.
Amy pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her bag and put them on. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we were better off being enemies with Mr. Rankle. It was better for my eyes.”
"Come now," Eva said. "We don't want to be enemies with anyone at Christmastime.”
"Except for maybe with the killer," Leila said. "But not in a he's chasing you sort of way. And more in a we don't want to be friends with a killer sort of way."
"I really hope it wasn't Kendall," Amy said. “Though I don’t think it was. Those pictures of her destructive dog help give an alibi. And he is destructive. Much worse behaved than Miss Marshmallow.”
The other women exchanged a look. Amy was becoming fonder of her foster dog.
“What?” asked Amy, eyeing them all.
“Nothing,” Heather said quickly.
“If it’s not Kendall,” Eva started.
“And her business might suffer because of this. And she’s been so nice to me, and believed in my art,” Amy said. “I don’t think it’s her.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Eva said. “But if it’s not her, who do you think did it?”
“It could be any of the artists,” Heather said.
“The victim was killed on Horatio’s statue, the boot prints were from Ray, and that note was from Lincoln,” Amy recapped.
“I think that Horatio’s statue was used because it was pointy and provided an opportunity for the murder," Heather said. "But I don't think he was planning for it."
“Not after we saw that pretty design he drew for how the tree was supposed to end up looking,” said Amy.
Heather nodded. “I don’t really think he’s involved. But Ray still could be. It depends on whether we believe him that his boots were stolen.”
“If he’s lying, then he used them for the murder and came up with a cover story to explain why they’re gone,” Amy said. “But if he’s telling the truth, then somebody used his boots to try and frame him.”
“And it would be a convincing frame,” said Heather. “He and Tricia were constantly bickering and accusing one another of theft.”
"And that paint was his,” Amy said.
“Right,” said Heather. “That paint made sure that the boot prints were left and that we knew the prints happened at the time of the murder.”
“But then why did the killer get rid of the evidence?” Amy asked. “Wouldn’t he have wanted us to find the print right away?”
“The ladder and the boots were hidden, but they weren’t impossible to find. One boot was even outside of the trashcan,” said Heather. “I think the killer wanted us to think that we had worked hard to find those clues, but it’s possible that he wanted them to be found.”
“So, who would want to frame this man?” asked Eva.
“It might be because he was the most likely suspect and not against him personally,” said Heather.
“That might make sense,” said Amy. “Because why would the boot print need to be on the ladder? Why would the killer climb the ladder? To drop the victim from higher up?”
“I think you might have hit on something,” Heather said, thinking. “There is something strange about this ladder.”
She picked up another donut as she began to chew her thoughts. She was so deep in this concentration that she almost didn't notice when Detective Peters popped into the shop.
“Hi Heather,” he said.
“Hi. Do you have any news on the case?” asked Heather.
"No," Peters said, blushing. "I thought I would just stop by and get some donuts on a break."
“A good idea,” said Heather, though she suspected that the real reason he had decided to stop in was to see her pretty red-headed assistant that he has a crush on. “I’m afraid Janae won’t be able to help you at the counter tonight. She switched shifts so she could lead a bike tour.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Peters said, covering his disappointment with machismo. “I didn’t come to see her specifically. Not that I don’t like her serving me. Serving me donuts, not serving me. But I came just for the food.”
Heather nodded and headed with him to the counter where Digby was squinting at them to block out some of the bright lights.
Before Detective Peters could make his order, he was interrupted by Mr. Rankle’s appearance on the scene. Heather started to thank him for all his gracious decorations, but he ignored her and went right up to Peters.
“Officer, do your duty and shut down this shop,” he demanded.
"What?" Peters asked, looking completely taken aback.
"According to local town ordinance 77-25C, there is a limit on how bright Christmas light decorations can be in a business setting. Looking around, you can see that this is a clear violation of the ordinance," Mr. Rankle said.
“Talk about a snake in the pear tree,” Amy said, glaring at him.
“Officer, this display is an eyesore for the town and can negatively affect business for the whole area with its blatant disregard for retinal safety.”
“We didn’t know about this ordinance,” Heather said.
“That’s right,” Mr. Rankle said. “As an out-of-towner trying to whittle your way into our holiday business, you wouldn’t know anything about our important town ordinances. Unfortunately, ignorance of the law is no excuse. Officer, you’ll have to hold them responsible.”
“What do you want me to do?” Peters asked.
"According to the law, they could be charged a hefty fine for this monstrosity. Or the business can be shut down until the display is removed. Shut them down,” Mr. Rankle said.
“But just until the display is down?” asked Peters.
"Or indefinitely," Mr. Rankle suggested.
“This is unfair,” Amy said. “The only reason we have up so many decorations is because Mr. Rankle donated them to us and we were trying to be nice. We should have realized it was a trick.”
"A trick," Heather said, getting an idea.
“That’s right,” Digby said. “I certainly wouldn’t have chosen a decorative scheme like this. It’s way too bright.”
“It is rather bright,” Peters said.
“I can fix that though,” said Amy.
She walked over to the outlet and removed the lights’ plugs. It was instantly darker and looked more like a normal shop.
“I think that fixes it for now,” said Peters. “And if I was just supposed to shut you down until you take down the excess décor, well, it’s only an hour until closing time. You’ll have this all fixed by the time you open tomorrow, right?”
“Right,” Amy said.
“Fine,” Digby said.
“Tricia was tricked,” Heather was muttering to herself. “She was lulled into a false sense of security. And maybe she was the one on the ladder.”
“You’re not going to shut them down?” Mr. Rankle asked, looking crestfallen. “But they were breaking the law.”
“An ordinance,” Amy clarified.
“And they’re about to fix things,” Peters said. “No harm. No foul.”
He selected a donut and then left the shop.
“I don’t know,” Amy muttered. “I think there might be something foul here.”
“What a nasty trick,” Eva said.
“Very Grinch-like,” Eva agreed.
Mr. Rankle didn’t have anything he wanted to say to them and marched out of the store angrily.
“The joke is doubly on him because he ended up paying for all these decorations,” Amy said. “Should we use some of them on our house?”
“Some of them,” Eva said. “We don’t need all the lights.”
“That’s righ
t,” said Leila. “We do want to be able to sleep at night.”
“But who could have convinced Tricia to get on the ladder?” Heather was saying. “And what could the motive be?”
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Heather. Her face lit up like the string lights had before.
“Do we really need to take down all these decorations tonight?” Digby asked.
“Yes,” Heather said. “And I’m afraid I have more bad news. You and Luz will have to take them down by yourselves. Amy and I have to go. Do you think we can catch up with Peters?”
“Did you just solve the case?” Amy asked.
“I think so,” said Heather.
Artist Gathering
“Thanks for gathering everyone together,” Heather told Kendall.
“I was happy too, but I don’t really see how it will help,” she admitted.
“You will,” said Amy.
They had assembled all the artists from the night of the murder in the small space that Kendall was using until they could return to the studio. She had called the meeting under the guise of creating a memorial art piece for Tricia. Kendall had told Amy that she really did think the memorial was a wonderful idea, but she knew that the real reason for gathering them was to flush out a murderer.
“Here we go,” Heather said.
She and Amy strode into the room, followed by Kendall. They faced the other artists.
“What’s going on?” Lucy asked.
“I thought we were going to work on a memorial for Tricia,” Lincoln said.
“Is this some kind of setup?” asked Ray.
Horatio didn’t say anything.
"We're sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Heather said. “But we wanted to get here before the police did.”
“They’ll be here any minute,” Amy said. “They said that they figured out who the killer is and they’re going to arrest him.”
“Him?” Ray said, taking note of the two women in the room.
"We just wanted to let you know that if you confess, the court will be more lenient on you,” said Heather.
Spiced Maple & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 11 Page 6