“But we need to determine if that is based in fact or based in grief,” said Ryan.
“Right,” said Amy. “Now can you explain the boots?”
"I just wanted to make sure your feet were protected," Ryan said. "It was difficult for the fire department to put out the grease fire, but luckily they were able to do so before it destroyed the house or traveled to any other homes. The ground may still have traces of oil and water on it though."
“The absolute worse puddles to wade through,” Amy said.
“One firefighter is still here,” Peters said. “He was checking to make sure that the house is completely secure.”
“And where is his wife?” Heather asked. “Will we be able to talk to her?”
“She’s at the hospital with her stepson right now,” Ryan said. “We will want to talk with her again, but most of the family has made their way over to the hospital. There’s a uniformed cop there as well to keep an eye on things.”
“Good idea,” Heather said. “Until we know what we’re dealing with it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“I finished my check,” a new voice said.
They all turned and saw a man still partially in his firefighter clothes. He was an athletic man with flaming red hair.
“The house looks structurally secure. It just took some exterior damage. They can return to the house anytime. Well, as soon as you say they can. I know it might be a crime scene too.”
“This is Frank Fleming,” Ryan said, making introductions. “And this is my wife, Heather, and her investigative partner and friend Amy.”
"Call me Fire Frank," he said. "Everyone does. I say it's because that's what I tell the kids to call me when I go to school demonstrations, but I know it's what everyone calls me it because of my hair."
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” Heather said. “I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”
Fire Frank nodded. “We have kitchen and cooking fires around the holidays, but we haven’t had a fatality in a while. It sure is a shame.”
“It’s also unfortunate that most of the potential clues in this case have burned up,” Ryan said.
“We won’t be able to collect any fingerprints at this scene,” Peters agreed.
“You know the point of origin for the fire though,” Fire Frank said. “So that always helps in determining what happened.”
“You have experience in fires and arson,” Ryan said, looking at the large firefighter. “Would you mind looking at the pots and frying equipment?”
“Not at all,” Fire Frank said. “I’m happy to do anything I can to help.”
“When you have a moment, stop by the police station. We’re going to examine it in depth there and would appreciate your input,” said Ryan.
Fire Frank agreed and made plans to come into the station when he wasn’t wearing such heavy equipment.
“He might be more helpful on this case than we are,” Amy said, with just a touch of jealousy in her voice.
“We did solve a case about an exploding grill before,” Heather reminded her.
“That’s true,” Amy said.
“And if this wasn’t an accident, we’re going to catch the killer,” Heather said firmly.
“And if it is an accident?”
“Then I guess we’ll have more time to practice cooking yams,” said Heather. “But you know what my gut is telling me?”
“That we need to talk to the wife?” asked Amy.
“Exactly.”
A Wife’s Suspicions
While Ryan and Peters finished up at the scene of the crime or accident, Heather and Amy decided to visit Jocelyn Caulfield at the hospital. They picked up some Pumpkin Pie Brûlée Donuts on their way in case it would help. However, because they were in a hurry, they didn’t stop to change their shoes as well.
“Do you think it’s rude to wear rainboots to the hospital?” Amy asked.
“I think she’ll be more concerned with the tragedy that happened this afternoon than our footwear,” Heather said.
They found Jocelyn in the waiting room. She was a beautiful woman, but the stress of the moment was causing her to look pale and strained. Heather and Amy introduced themselves.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Jocelyn said. “I suppose they brought on some private investigators because they can’t declare it a murder yet?”
“We’ve assisted with several cases here in Key West and join investigations whenever a little extra help is needed,” Heather explained.
“And if they need a little extra legwork,” Amy said. “Maybe this time it’s some extra turkey legwork.”
“We’re very sorry about what happened,” Heather said. “You must be very upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Jocelyn said. “I’m furious. I just don’t know where to direct this anger yet.”
“Would you like a donut?” Heather offered. “I know we often don’t eat when terrible things happen.”
“I’m too angry to eat,” Jocelyn said at first. “Well, maybe just one.”
She took a donut and nodded, appreciating its taste.
“Is it possible that the burst and the fire were an accident?” Heather asked.
“I just don’t see how,” Jocelyn said. “Craig was so careful about this sort of thing. He made the holidays special and every year tried something new and exciting. But he always did his research first. He made a Baked Alaska Flambé one year. You know? That ice cream and meringue dessert that you set on fire.”
“Do you think we could make a donut like that?” Amy whispered to her friend. “I can see how the flames might be dangerous to hand out over the counter… but it sounds delicious.”
“One thing at a time,” Heather responded.
“My husband couldn’t have made a mistake that would have caused such a catastrophe,” Jocelyn continued.
“The police and both of us are going to make every effort to determine exactly what went wrong,” Heather said. “But you have to accept that there is a chance that it was either an equipment malfunction or a mistake while cooking.”
“I may not have been there for all his preparation, but I know my husband,” Jocelyn said.
“Where were you?” Heather asked.
“I was visiting my parents in Rhode Island for the last few days. I just flew back this morning,” Jocelyn explained. "I was seeing my family before Thanksgiving because I would be spending the real day with Craig's family. I mean, I guess they're my family too. Craig and I have been married for four years now. I do, of course, care about Craig's children, but they're not children. They were adults long before I even met Craig. And they don't need a stepmother."
“And were his children visiting for Thanksgiving?” Heather asked.
“Yes. They were all in town by today,” Jocelyn said. “Most of them are staying at the house. And one of them must have killed Craig.”
“Why would they choose to do it in such an explosive way?” Amy asked.
“Probably because they hoped that you would think it was an accident,” Jocelyn said. “But I know it wasn’t.”
“Did they know that Craig Caulfield would be testing the turkey fryer today?” Heather asked.
“Craig usually announced when he would be testing new techniques. He would invite them to be guinea pigs and test the food,” Jocelyn said. “It would be a lot of fun. That’s why I made sure I was back today. However, with my flight delays, I didn’t have any time to help them set up. Luckily, I did get to see Craig again before… before he was murdered.”
“Is there any reason why one of his children would want to murder him?” Heather asked.
“Craig was beloved by everyone,” Jocelyn said. “But he was also a very rich man. I think they did it for the money.”
“Who inherits in the event of his death?” Heather asked, looking for clarification.
“I inherit our house and some money to care for it,” Jocelyn said. “I will be taken care of, but the bulk of his money
goes to his children. His business passes to them, as well as his savings. Even divided between them, they will still each get millions.”
“That could be a motive for murder,” Heather admitted.
“But to kill your own father?” Amy asked. “That’s harsh.”
“Did Craig Caulfield have any disagreements or strained relationships with any of his children?” Heather asked.
“There were some squabbles from time to time like any relationship,” Jocelyn said. “But nothing that would lead to his death. No, it had to be the money. And it makes me so angry.”
“Was anyone in need of their inheritance right away?” Heather asked. “In deep financial trouble?”
“I don’t know,” Jocelyn said. “They didn’t talk to me about that sort of thing. But Craig did tell me he was thinking about changing his will.”
“Was he going to cut somebody out?” Amy asked. “That’s a strong motive to make a turkey blow up.”
“He wasn’t going to cut anybody out, but he was thinking of giving more to charity. He started saying that we had so much to be thankful for and that he should give more back. He was making donations while alive, but he was thinking of updating his will too,” Jocelyn said. “His children still would have gotten a lot of money, but it would be less.”
Heather nodded. “We’ll have to look into this.”
“I should go and check on Chris,” Jocelyn said. “I was letting him spend some time with his other family visitors, but if one of them is a killer, I shouldn’t leave him alone too long.”
“Chris will make a full recovery?” Heather asked.
“Yes. Hopefully, he will be released before Thursday,” Jocelyn said. “I don’t believe he had anything to do with this.”
“Thank you so speaking with us,” Heather said.
“It’s a good thing you’re wearing rainboots,” Jocelyn said, rising. “You might have to wade through a lot of muck to get straight answers about what happened.”
She left them, headed towards the patients’ rooms.
“I hope she wasn’t being literal,” Amy said.
Fire Frank
"I have to admit that Jocelyn Caulfield makes a pretty convincing case for murder," Heather said.
“But parents often leave their money to their children and aren’t killed for it,” Ryan said.
Heather and Amy had joined Ryan and his partner at the police station. They were finishing off the remaining donuts from the hospital visit and were discussing the case.
“Have you discovered anything new?” Heather asked.
“Not much,” Peters said. “Most of the crime scene was too charred to be helpful.”
“But we did hear from the medical examiner,” Ryan said.
“Did he tell us anything helpful?” Heather asked.
“Some more gruesome details about the cause of death involving the hot oil and fire,” Ryan said. “But it still doesn’t tell us whether the oil blasted because of a miscalculation by the chef or if something was tampered with.”
“Have you examined the victim’s clothes?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Ryan said. “I think we were thinking the same thing. But there were no traces of chemicals on his clothes that could have caused this reaction.”
“So, if something did go wrong, it was most likely with the cooking equipment?” Heather asked.
Ryan nodded. “Fire Frank said that he would come in and help us look at the equipment. I hoped he would arrive soon.”
“Are you talking about me?” Fire Frank said, entering the room. “Or are you talking about firing some poor other guy.”
“We were talking about you,” Amy said. “Great timing!”
“We were hoping you might be able to shed some light on what happened,” Ryan said.
“I’m happy to try,” Fire Frank said.
The group all headed to the other room where the evidence from the fire was laid out on a table.
“Everything has been marked and photographed,” Ryan assured them. “You can pick things up to examine them.”
They all put gloves on and began checking the ill-fated cooking equipment. Heather picked up a mostly-melted bottle that had once contained frying oil.
“If this is the oil he used, then it does seem that he knew what he’s doing,” said Heather. “This brand isn’t cheap, and it’s great for frying.”
“I’m just glad he did this outdoors,” Peters said. “Imagine if this happened in the kitchen.”
“The house probably wouldn’t have survived,” Fire Frank agreed. “And it would have been harder for the other people nearby to get away.”
He picked up elements of the heat source and examined it.
“Anything unusual?” Ryan asked.
“It looks to be state of the art cooking equipment,” Fire Frank said. “And I’m not noticing any shorts in wiring.”
“Maybe the problem was with the turkey,” Amy suggested.
“It is possible,” Heather said. “A frozen bird in hot oil could cause trouble.”
"But if Craig Caulfield were as precise as his wife says, then he would have noticed if the turkey was frozen," said Ryan. "Even people who aren't cooks can tell the difference between something frozen and defrosted."
“Well, this is interesting,” Fire Frank said. “In a bad sort of interesting way.”
“What is it?” Detective Peters asked, getting his notebook ready to scribble in.
"I'm looking at this thermometer, and there's something off about it," Fire Frank said.
“How so?” asked Heather.
“Is it telling us that something is sick?” Amy asked.
“This looks like a thermometer used to show the temperature of the oil. It even has a handle where it could be attached to the frying pot,” said Fire Frank.
“Which is a useful tool and a good idea,” said Heather. “You want to know the right time to add something to your oil based on its temperature.”
"Well at this top circle part here, it has the notches of the different temperatures. It lists between fifty degrees Fahrenheit and five hundred and fifty, and has a little arrow that would point to the temperature that the rod connected to it is reading," Fire Frank said.
“Right,” Heather said. “That seems like how they usually work.”
“But look at the number here,” Fire Frank said. “They’re peeling. And I don’t think that’s the result of the fire.”
“What is it the result of?” Amy asked.
“Do you mind if I peel this a little more?” Fire Frank asked.
Ryan told him to proceed, and Peters retrieved a camera to record the finding. Fire Frank pulled on the suspicious looking numbers and uncovered a different set of readings underneath it.
“Someone covered the correct numbers with a false one,” Heather said. “When Craig Caulfield thought the oil was three hundred and fifty degrees, it was actually five hundred and fifty.”
“That could definitely affect his calculations,” Ryan said.
“And it means something else too,” Heather said. “This means that Jocelyn Caulfield was right. Her husband was murdered.”
The Hospital Visit
Chris Caulfield was able to sit up in his bed and talk when the investigators arrived. He was bandaged but looked better than they had expected physically. Emotionally, he looked close to tears.
“We’re sorry to bother you while you’re recuperating,” Ryan said. “But we need to talk to you about what happened.”
“I know,” Chris said. “You want to know why I wasn’t faster.”
“What’s that?” asked Amy.
She and Peters had their tablet and notebook out respectively to take notes, while Heather and Ryan moved closer to the hospital bed.
"The oil shot up after my dad put the turkey in and then everything caught fire. I froze right after it happened. I eventually gathered my wits and tried to get my dad out of danger, but I took too long. If I were faster, he would have been
okay, wouldn't he?" Chris asked.
“You did everything you could,” Heather said. “It’s a perfectly natural human reaction to feel frozen when something like that happens. And unfortunately, there was nothing you could have done to save him.”
“It’s not my fault?” Chris asked.
“Moving faster wouldn’t have saved him. It might have gotten you killed too,” Heather told him.
Chris seemed a little calmer after hearing this but was still distraught. "I can't believe this happened. Was it because of the extra ounces?"
“What ounces?” asked Ryan. “Was it on the turkey?”
Chris nodded. “It was a few ounces heavier when we weighed it soon before we put it in the oil than it was earlier in the morning. We thought it was odd, but didn’t worry about it. We didn’t think it could cause this.”
“I’m afraid that’s not what caused it,” Heather said. “Sabotage did.”
“Sabotage?” asked Chris.
“We’re treating your father’s death as a murder,” Ryan explained. “Somebody tampered with his equipment.”
“Somebody killed him?” Chris asked. “I guess that’s what Jocelyn thought. She was giving everyone strange looks when they visited me.”
“We need to ask you some questions about your father’s cooking,” Ryan said. “We need to figure out when the sabotage took place.”
"Well," Chris said, thinking. "Dad bought the equipment last month or so, but he kept it locked in the garage. The garage was his play area for gadgets. He kept it locked from when we were children and didn't want us to get hurt. He continued to keep it locked after we started moving away. I think it was partially habit, and partially where he hid Christmas and birthday gifts."
“So, he was the only one who had access to the garage?” Heather asked.
Chris nodded. “We never parked cars in it. It was Dad’s room.”
“And when did he take out the equipment to use it?” asked Heather.
Pumpkin Pie Brulee & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 9 Page 2