As Kel suspected, despite the fact that the boys had to share a bedroom because the house was small for a family of six, Bernard Thornton had a home office. Snapping on nitrile gloves, the artist began digging through his files and desk. What he found told him more than he had expected to learn. Not only was Bernard Thornton a philanderer, his checkbook indicated that, despite a healthy income, he’d spent so much money on his “extracurricular activities,” that he was deeply in debt. There were credit card statements in a locked drawer that also gave the artist insight into the proclivities and overspending habits of the deceased attorney. He had to wonder who, if anyone, might have had access to these files, and if it might have prompted them to murder.
Chapter 16
“Andrew Koslowski?” Detective Chas Beckett asked the laid back, suntanned youth who was reclining on the dock, one hand jammed in a bag of cheese puffs.
“That’s me, dude. What can I do you for?” Andrew smiled as he chewed, slowly rising to his feet and licking congealed orange powdered cheese from his fingers.
Chas flashed his badge. “I’m Detective Chas Beckett with the Calgon Police Department and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure, man. What’s up?”
“Did you rent a boat to a Mr. Bernard Thornton this week?” he asked, flipping open his notebook.
Andrew pursed his lips. “Lemme check the log. Sounds familiar, but I can’t be sure. I have more than one boat, so it’s hard to remember everybody who comes through.” He ambled over to one of the larger boats that looked like it served as his office and home, and flipped open a compartment near the captain’s chair, grabbing a red-covered log book.
“Okay…” Andrew talked to himself as he ran his finger down each column of the pages for the week. “Thornton, Thornton, Thornton…ah! Yup, here it is,” he showed Chas the entry. “I remember him now, he was the dude with the hot daughter. What’s up, did he make a complaint about me or something?” he rolled his eyes.
“A complaint? Why would you think that?” Chas asked mildly.
“The dude came off way too strong, yelling at me, ya know? So I gave back as good as he was dishing out, and he didn’t appreciate it.”
“You’re saying that you had an altercation with Bernard Thornton?”
“Well, that kinda makes it sound like, way more official and uptight than it was, but basically, he was being rude and I had to show him that I wasn’t gonna put up with it,” Andrew shrugged.
“When you say that you showed him that you weren’t going to put up with his rudeness, what did you do, exactly?”
“I like, got in his face, you know? I told him to back off or I wouldn’t let him rent my boat.”
“And how did he respond to that?”
“He didn’t like it, but he realized I was in charge, not him, and he got all quiet, so I let him take the boat out.”
“Is the boat that he rented here in the marina right now?”
“She sure is. He took Bonnie Lass out, and she hasn’t been rented since he turned her back in. She’s one of my smaller ones – I kinda got the impression that he’d never been on a boat before, but I figured she’d be a good pony for him to ride around the barnyard, ya know?” Andrew snickered.
“Sure,” Chas nodded. “Mind if I take a look at her?”
“Not at all, man. She’s small, but she’s still a beauty. You can take her for a short spin if you want, since you’re here on official business and all. I won’t even charge ya,” he offered.
“That’s not necessary, I just want to take a look around.”
“Knock yourself out. I’ll be over here if you need me. You want a soda or something? There’s some in the cooler, just help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Chas paused for a moment, as though something had occurred to him, then stepped gingerly out onto the boat, wishing he was there for pleasure rather than business.
He’d only looked around for a few minutes before he had some questions for Andrew and called him over.
“Yeah, dude, what’s up?”
Chas had found a streak of what looked like blood, along with a couple of hairs on the console.
“Do you know how this got here?”
“When they got back in to the dock, the kid had a big bump on his head and the dad said that he slipped and fell,” the young man shrugged. “I kinda wondered how that happened with the boat having astroturf on it and all, but it’s whatever. Oh man, he’s not gonna sue me, is he? I shoulda known better than to let him take her out. What a…”
“No, there’s no lawsuit that I’m aware of,” the detective interrupted.
“Oh. Cool.”
“What happened up here?” Chas pointed to an odd, green stain on the side of the boat.
“Apparently the hot chick was really seasick. When they came back, she had her arms wrapped around her stomach and was having trouble walking and talking.”
“She had trouble talking?”
“Yeah, she must’ve hurled pretty dramatically to make her voice all raspy like that. I’ve never seen anyone look so bad after being seasick, but she looked pretty delicate to start with, ya know?”
The detective nodded, making notes.
“Dude, if he’s not suing me, what’s going down? I mean, why are you even here talking to me? Not that I mind shooting the breeze, but I’m a little weirded out that a cop wants to come out and take a look around. Nothing personal.”
“Do you own a knife, Mr. Koslowski?” Chas stepped off of the boat, keeping his distance.
“Doesn’t everyone, Detective?” Andrew gave him a slow grin.
Chapter 17
“I’m worried about Kel,” Echo complained over coffee and cupcakes. “He hasn’t been calling to check in like he usually does.”
“Well, he said himself that he might have to work pretty hard to convince this guy to apprentice for him, and he always gets totally absorbed when he’s snooping around on my behalf, so I’m sure he’s just busy, sweetie. He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine,” Missy assured her friend.
“He didn’t even look at me before he left,” she murmured.
“So what you’re really worried about is that he might be engaging in something other than sleuthing and business.”
“Is that so terrible?” Echo asked, her eyes welling as she took a huge bite of her vegan Caramel Carob cupcake.
“No, honey, it’s adorable, and I’m glad you’re finally letting your guard down and admitting that you might want something more from that dear man, but you and I both know that, at this point, it may be too late,” she said gently, brushing a flame-red curl back from her friend’s brow.
“I’m so stupid,” she moaned through a mouthful of cupcake.
“Not stupid, cautious, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Particularly considering your history with men.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better?” Echo challenged sarcastically.
“It is what it is, darlin. You know that I love you dearly, I’m just being realistic.”
“I know,” she sighed, taking a gulp of piping hot coffee to wash down the cupcake. “Okay, I’m tired of dwelling on my misery. Let’s not talk about this anymore. What do we know about the Thornton murder, and how is Brenda holding up?” she took another bite and looked at Missy expectantly, needing the change of topic.
“She’s as good as can be expected, I suppose. She’s still taking sedatives to sleep at night, but seems to be crying less during the day. I think she just can’t imagine her life without her husband telling her exactly what to do every minute of the day,” Missy explained.
“Ugh, I can’t even imagine,” Echo shook her head.
“As far as I know, Chas hasn’t found out anything new on the murder case. I’m hoping that Kel will come up with something.”
“Stop talking about him,” her friend replied mildly. “Any chance that Spencer will step in and save the day?” she teased, knowing the Marine’s uncanny propensity to be in the right
place at the right time to catch the bad guys.
“That would be nice,” Missy nodded. “He reacted strangely to something that happened yesterday. I normally wouldn’t think that it was at all strange, but his hunches tend to be right on the money, so I don’t know what to make of it.”
“What happened?”
She related the story of Morty complaining about his arm and Spencer telling her that the golf courses in town weren’t accessible.
“I have to side with your hunky handyman on this one, that does sound fishy,” Echo commented, reaching for another cupcake.
“Don’t do it, you’ll hate yourself,” Missy joked, knowing that her friend watched her figure with an eagle eye.
“I already do, it’s all good,” she replied dryly, taking the paper off of her second treat. “Maybe Morty killed Bernard,” she snickered at the absurd image.
Missy suddenly went very still.
“What? I was kidding…” Echo stopped chewing, wondering at her friend’s reaction. “Missy…?”
“Oh my gosh…what if he did?” she whispered.
“That’s absurd. Morty is a teddy bear,” she dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand.
“No, I’m serious. The day that Bernard goes missing, Morty shows up soaking wet and with a big cut on his arm. The day after that, he complains about muscle pain in his arm. Chas said that whoever stabbed Bernard didn’t have much upper body strength, which could point to Morty, and he lied about where he was when he hurt his arm.”
“Hmm…still sounds like a stretch to me,” Echo was skeptical.
“But that’s not all. When we talked about it at the breakfast table, Morty said something about stabbing him in the back. It was like… “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d like to stab him in the back,” or something like that,” Missy’s grey eyes were huge.
“Echo, the newspapers didn’t say where Bernard Thornton had been stabbed…Morty just came up with that on his own.”
“You realize that that’s an expression that people use sometimes, right?” her friend wasn’t convinced.
“Well, yes, okay, but Morty had had some negative encounters with Bernard before that too.” She told Echo about both times that the men had exchanged angry words.
“Those just sound like little spit-spats,” she shrugged. “Do you honestly think that those two encounters would prompt a sweet old man to murder a husband and father?”
“Maybe if that sweet old man thought that the husband and father was evil,” Missy blinked.
Chapter 18
Kel winced at the sharp, antiseptic smell that assaulted his sinuses when he entered the pale-walled, shiny-floored lobby of the hospital, and steeled himself for the poking, prodding and endless cycles of waiting that he knew he’d be facing. The normally dapper gent had dressed simply for the occasion, knowing that he’d soon be shedding his designer jeans and v-necked sweater for the extreme indignity of a backless gown. The 60-something artist was a physical picture of good health, toned, tanned and strong, and had always prided himself on eating right and staying in shape, but today was profoundly feeling every one of his years. His confident stride was slower, his eyes heavier, and his shoulders slightly slumped as he made his way to the reception desk.
After signing in, Kel sat down in a vinyl and chrome chair, waiting for his name to be called, both dreading what was next and anxious to get it over with. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and tried to silence the whirlwind of dark thoughts racing through his mind.
“Mr. Kellerman?” a nurse with a clipboard in her hand called from a doorway that looked, to his overactive imagination, like it led straight to a torture chamber, which, in a manner of speaking, it did.
He rose from his seat, his heart beating a bit faster, and followed the young woman in neon green scrubs down the hallway, to begin a diagnostic process that could potentially change his life forever.
**
“So, if you’re so sure that Morty is just a sweet old man, maybe you should have a little chat with him to see what you can find out,” Missy challenged Echo, feeling certain that the retiree had been the one to kill Bernard Thornton.
“Alright, I will,” Echo nodded. “Do you have any more of those strawberry lemonade cupcakes?” she raised an eyebrow.
“As a matter of fact I do. Coming right up,” she disappeared into the kitchen.
Echo took the bakery box loaded with goodies and headed for the Inn to seek out Morty and Vera. She found them in the Wedgewood parlor, Vera reading a romance novel and Morty perusing the local paper.
“Good morning,” she sang out. “I’m Missy’s friend Echo, and I wanted to bring you some cupcakes,” she plopped down on a chair next to Vera’s offering her the box as though presenting a precious treasure.
“Well, aren’t you just precious?” Vera grinned, taking the box. “Ooooo! They’re the pink ones that I love,” she exclaimed. “Morty, come over here and be social.”
“Come keep two beautiful ladies company and eat cupcakes? Twist my arm,” Morty joked, settling himself next to Vera on the sofa and peering into the box of pink, fluffy treats.
“Where are you folks from?” Echo asked with a friendly smile.
“Worcester, Massachusetts,” Morty answered, before stuffing half of a cupcake in his mouth, his cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk as he chewed.
“Oh my, it’s pretty cold up there,” she feigned interest. “You must love this Florida weather.”
“The humidity is terrible for my hair,” Vera lightly touched her teased and hairsprayed coif. “But, other than that, yes, it’s been very nice to be warm.
Morty reached for another cupcake and she slapped his hand away. “Watch your waistline, buster.”
“So, you’re retired?” Echo persisted.
“Well, technically, yes,” Morty replied after swallowing. “But now I have more time to work on my inventions.”
“Oh, you’re an inventor?” she leaned forward, actually interested now.
“He thinks he is,” Vera rolled her eyes. “You should see the things that he blows up, melts down and burns out in his shop.”
“I’ll change the world one day, young lady, you mark my words,” he nodded sagely, ignoring his wife’s good-natured skepticism.
“What kinds of things do you invent?” Echo made the mistake of asking, and was unable to extricate herself from the conversation until nearly an hour later.
Returning to Cupcakes in Paradise, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sought out Missy, who was creating a coconut cream filling in the kitchen.
“Well, I gotta tell you, after talking with Morty as he went on ad nauseum about his crazy inventions, I still have to say, he just seems like a harmless old man,” Echo shrugged.
Missy froze in mid-stir. “Did you say…inventions?” she asked, her voice hushed.
“Yeah, he builds contraptions of all kinds in his garage workshop. Why?”
“I got a text from Kel after you left…Bernard Thornton is a patent attorney.”
“Do you suppose…?”
“They may have known each other,” Missy nodded. “Bernard may have turned down some of Morty’s patent applications.
“He was really passionate when he was talking about his projects,” Echo bit her lip, now far less certain of the old man’s innocence. “Do you’d really think that he’d leave a family without a father and husband though?”
“Maybe he would if he thought that the family would be better off without him.”
“You might just have a murderer under your roof,” Echo whispered, glancing over her shoulder, as though she expected Morty to come in wielding an axe at any moment.
They both jumped when the front door of the shop flew open, and they hurried to the front together to see who had come in.
“Hey Mrs. B, Echo,” Spencer greeted them, heading behind the counter to select some cupcakes for his snack. “You’ll be happy to know that after following Mr. Klein for the last few
days, I’ve figured out what he’s been up to.”
Echo and Missy exchanged an alarmed glance.
“Sit down, tell us,” Missy directed, pulling out a chair for the Marine, who was casually unwrapping his first cupcake.
Giving them a puzzled look, he sat, taking his time.
“So, you know how he disappeared for long stretches of time and no one knew where he was?” Spencer began.
“Yes,” Echo and Missy said in unison, leaned forward in anticipation.
He gave them a strange look before continuing. “Turns out, he was doing a couple of things that seem a little bit strange for a man of his age and personality.”
“Like what?” Echo interrupted, her hands wrapped around her coffee cup.
“Well, I found out how he got the cut on his arm, and why his muscles were sore.”
“You’re killing us! What did you find out?” Missy demanded.
“He’s been disappearing to take windsurfing lessons and yoga classes.”
The two women stared at the Marine as though he’d suddenly grown horns.
“Umm…what?” Echo finally found her voice.
Spencer nodded. “He got the cut on his arm from a bad crash on his windsurfing board, and he pulled some muscles in his arm trying to do a particularly challenging pose in his senior yoga class.”
Missy blinked at the news, taking it in. “Are you sure?”
“Yup, I asked him about it, and then confirmed it with both the windsurfing and yoga instructors,” he shrugged.
The friends stared at him, baffled.
“So if…” Missy began.
“Then who…?” Echo murmured.
“Did I miss something?” Spencer asked.
“Morty didn’t kill Bernard,” his boss replied.
“Nope, definitely not,” he confirmed.
“Then who did?” Echo asked softly. Missy and Spencer looked at her, with nothing to say.
Chapter 19
“Hey, Benson,” Chas approached the teenager as he sprawled on a wicker chaise in the sunroom.
Hot Chocolate Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 28 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 5