Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1)

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Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1) Page 6

by Karen Chester


  Madison reached across the table and gripped Emma’s arm. Her eyes burned with fervor. “You believe he’s innocent, don’t you?”

  “Um, I’m not sure…”

  “But you’ve known Sean since high school. Please, Emma. You’ve got to help him.”

  “Why me? What makes you think I can be of any help?”

  “Because my parents won’t help, and I’m not clever enough to figure it on my own. But you are. You’re smart and driven and confident. You’ve got the guts to go out there and find the truth.”

  “I do?”

  “Of course.” Madison waved her arms, roiling with emotion. “You’re his friend, aren’t you?”

  Emma nodded. Sure, she was Sean’s friend. Then, as she gathered the empty mugs and carried them to the sink, she recalled how true a friend Sean had been to her.

  In her senior year in high school, life had gotten very complicated. The stress of maintaining her grades had been exacerbated by her growing need to escape Greenville, and that had collided head on with Owen’s plans. Owen hated big cities, and the idea of going to college back east left him cold. He wanted to go to college within a half day’s drive to his family. And when he graduated, he didn’t want to live in a cramped apartment in a crowded city like New York. He and Emma wanted the exact opposite things, and neither was willing or able to compromise.

  There were arguments, shouting, slammed doors. Well, the shouting and slammed doors were mostly on her. Owen wasn’t as dramatic and over-emotional as she was; he simply lost his temper in a quieter, colder way that somehow hurt her more than any shouting or slammed doors could. With all that simmering tension, was it any wonder that she’d lost her focus one night and found herself hanging out with Sean and his disreputable friends? She couldn’t remember how many alcopops she’d had, but she definitely shouldn’t have got behind the wheel of her car. Sean had very firmly taken the keys from her, pushed her into the passenger seat, and driven her home. On the way, a police cruiser had stopped them, and Sean had been breathlyzed. Fortunately, he’d passed, whereas Emma wouldn’t have.

  If Emma had been charged with DUI and underage drinking, she would’ve lost her place in that fancy college and the future she’d hankered for so desperately. Sean had saved her that night, saved her from a terrible mistake of her own making.

  She turned around and leaned against the sink. Madison was perched at the table, anxiety pinching her pretty features.

  “You’re right,” Emma said. “Sean’s my friend, and I’ll try my best to help him.”

  Madison jumped to her feet and grabbed her hands. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. I told Sean. I told him you’d help him.”

  She couldn’t understand why Madison had so much faith in her. Just because she was good at planning a wedding, didn’t mean she was any good at helping a man beat a murder charge.

  “I can’t promise you anything,” she warned. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “You could find the real killer,” Madison said. “Then the police would have to let Sean go.”

  There was no beating that logic, Emma thought.

  “Yes. I need to find the real killer.”

  But the real killer wouldn’t be very happy if Emma started poking around. She would have to tread carefully, because she had no intention of ending up like Tony Barnet.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning Emma woke up with a twinge of trepidation when she remembered last night’s events. Could she keep her promise to Madison and save Sean? How was she going to track down the real killer, and what if she got into trouble?

  At the same time she couldn’t help recalling Sean’s terrified expression as the police had taken him away. Even if she failed, she had to at least try.

  She hauled herself out of bed, threw on a robe over her pajamas, and meandered her way to the kitchen, where an appetizing scent of pancakes lifted her spirits a little.

  “Morning, sunshine,” her father said from the stove where he was expertly flipping pancakes. “Juice is on the table. Coffee’s made. Help yourself while I finish these.”

  “Thanks, Dad. You’re a lifesaver.” She poured herself a mug of coffee, added a splash of milk, and seated herself at the table, still yawning and stretching.

  “How did it go with Madison last night?” Limping slightly, Andrew ferried a plate containing two hot pancakes to her.

  “Oh, yes, Madison.” Emma sighed as she reached for the maple syrup. “She was upset because Sean’s been arrested.”

  “Mmm, yes, Faye Seymour stopped by on her morning walk and told me about Sean.”

  “Figures. No one can break a fingernail in Greenville without Faye finding out.” Emma drizzled a thin stream of maple syrup over her pancakes.

  Her father sat down with his own plate of pancakes, but instead of reaching for the bowl of strawberries, he looked at Emma.

  “What, Dad?” she asked, not liking the way his brows dipped together.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t act all innocent. You know what I’m talking about.”

  He could only be referring to Madison’s visit last night. She hadn’t seen him after Madison had left and presumed he’d gone to bed.

  “So you heard everything?” Honestly, the walls in this house were paper thin, which made keeping secrets rather difficult. Emma cut a piece of pancake and forked it into her mouth.

  “Not everything, and I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help overhearing a few things.” Andrew’s nose twitched. “Getting mixed up in this murder case isn’t wise, Emma. Surely you can see that.”

  She set down her knife and fork. “Yes, Dad, but Sean didn’t do it. He’s innocent.” But even as she spoke she wondered if she was one hundred percent sure of that.

  “If he’s innocent, then the prosecutor won’t be able to prove it in court, and Sean will walk free.”

  “It’s good you have such faith in the legal system, but Sean’s been in trouble with the law before, and it doesn’t help that he’s a McCluskey. The chief loathes him, and he’ll do anything to pin this murder on him.”

  “You’re not suggesting Chief Putnam will plant evidence against Sean just to get a conviction,” her father protested, looking shocked.

  Hmm, that was something to think about. Madison’s parents were anxious to separate Madison from Sean, and they held a lot of sway in this town. A quiet word in the chief’s ear might be all they needed for Sean to be kept permanently away from their precious daughter. But all that was speculation.

  “I’m not suggesting Bob Putnam is crooked,” she said. “But when he makes up his mind about something, he’s like a dog with a bone. He’s got a convenient suspect in custody, and he’s not going to look too hard for an alternative.”

  “And what are you proposing to do?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Emma lifted her shoulders. “I suppose I could ask around, see if anyone else had a beef with Tony Barnet. He wasn’t a very pleasant man. I’m betting he’s made a few enemies along the way.”

  Shaking his head, Andrew began to eat his pancakes, but without his usual relish. Guilt washed over Emma at causing her father this worry.

  “I’ll be careful, Dad. I know you’re only looking out for me, but, don’t you see, I have to do this for my sake as much as Madison’s because their wedding is the biggest I’ve ever landed since I returned here. Everyone knows I’m their wedding planner, and I’ve been broadcasting that in the hope of getting more clients. I’m connected to Madison and Sean, and, as silly as it sounds, Sean’s arrest taints me, too. Being linked to a murder suspect might not matter in a big city like New York, but this is Greenville, where people like to gossip and everyone is connected to everyone else. I need to clear Sean’s name so I won’t lose any more business. Otherwise, I may as well close up shop right now.”

  Her father chewed on his pancakes for a while as he digest
ed her words. “I guess you have a point,” he eventually said.

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “Besides, you’ve never reacted well to being told what to do.” A glimmer appeared in his eyes.

  “Maybe, but I’m not the hothead I used to be either.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He rose from the table and picked up his plate and cutlery. “I’d better get a move on. Janet will be here any minute. Are you going to use my car today?”

  “Yes, thanks. I’ll have to get someone to give me a lift back here after I’ve dropped my car off.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone.” He limped toward the door, then paused. “By the way, I won’t be here for dinner, so you’ll have to fend for yourself.”

  “Sure, Dad.” Emma scraped up the last of her pancake. “Got something on at the school tonight?”

  “Uh, no.”

  The restrained note in her father’s voice made Emma look up.

  “Janet and I are going to see a movie over in La Quinta. It’s a documentary about fracking.” He fiddled with his blue striped tie. “Thought we might have a bite to eat before. There’s a new Mexican place we want to try.”

  Emma’s jaw dropped. “You’re going on a date?” She couldn’t hold back a small chuckle.

  Her father blushed a deep red. “It’s not a date. It’s just dinner and a movie with an old friend.”

  Emma bit her lip, regretting her half laugh. “Dad,” she said softly. “It’s totally fine by me if you want to go on a date.”

  “I told you, it’s not a date.” He swallowed and adjusted his glasses before hobbling out of the kitchen.

  How stupid and clumsy of her, Emma berated herself. She had to convince her dad that there was nothing wrong with him dating another woman, even if he didn’t want to call it that. After all, it was more than two years since Mom had died, and her dad wasn’t sixty yet, and he probably got lonely at times. He deserved to find happiness again. Her mom wouldn’t have wanted him to remain alone for the rest of his life. And Emma didn’t want him to, either. She would have to be more tactful about his ‘dating’ and try not to embarrass him.

  She jumped to her feet and began clearing the table, intent on washing the dishes and pan and leaving the kitchen spick and span. At least she could get that right.

  ***

  Caitlyn’s thickly mascara’d eyes widened. “You want me to go to Sean McClusky’s workshop?”

  Emma had stopped off at her office to ask Caitlyn to follow her to the auto repair shop and give her a lift back once she’d left her car there, but her assistant was reacting as if she’d been invited to Dracula’s castle in Transylvania

  “You don’t seriously think you’d be in danger there, do you?” Emma asked, incredulous.

  “Well, you never know. The murder weapon did come from that workshop. Who knows what or who else is lurking there.”

  “The police have already checked out the workshop, and besides, Sean is still locked up, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “But he won’t be there for long. My cousin works at the courthouse, and she says Sean’s going before the judge this morning and he’ll be free as soon as he makes bail.” Caitlyn leaned forward, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “Once he’s out, we won’t be safe in our beds.”

  Emma couldn’t help rolling her eyes. She was fond of her assistant, but the girl watched way too much TV.

  “I don’t think you need to worry about Sean McCluskey.” At this stage, she thought it prudent not to announce that she believed Sean was innocent and that she was going to look for the real killer. That would send Caitlyn over the edge.

  She was interrupted by her cell phone buzzing. It was her eleven o’clock appointment calling to cancel not just the meeting but Emma’s involvement in the wedding.

  “I’m sorry for doing this to you,” the woman awkwardly apologized. “But my grandma heard about the food poisoning at Tony Barnet’s housewarming party and then about Sean McCluskey killing Tony Barnet and you being connected with both. Well, it sent her into a panic, and she’s not very strong these days, so I thought it best if you didn’t…you know…”

  Emma’s heart sank as she tried to win back her client, but deep down she knew it was a losing battle. The wedding wasn’t a huge one. Both the bride and groom had been married before, and so this second wedding was going to be a small, casual affair. It wouldn’t have earned Emma a lot, but low-key weddings like these could become the backbone of her business, and she hated losing this client.

  “I understand,” she said, eventually admitting defeat. “If you change your mind down the track, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

  The woman made a non committal reply and quickly rang off, no doubt relieved to finish her unpleasant chore.

  Emma didn’t like to think ill of the dead, but she couldn’t suppress a surge of resentment against Tony Barnet. He was a double curse on her business, first with the disastrous housewarming party, and now she being somehow implicated in his death.

  “Are you following me to the auto repair shop or not?” she asked Caitlyn with a brisk edge to her voice. At this moment she was clean out of nice.

  Caitlyn merely nodded, clearly attuned to Emma’s frustrated mood.

  They drove out to Sean’s auto repair business. Caitlyn parked her car at the curb and rolled up her windows, darting nervous glances about her. Emma steered her car into the workshop. She was relieved to see the place was a little busier this morning compared to yesterday afternoon. A couple of men in overalls wandered through the main workshop to the rear, and when she walked into the small reception office, she saw a young woman standing behind the counter with a name badge that announced her as Chelsea.

  “Hi, I’m here to drop off my car,” Emma said. “It’s been making some funny noises. I spoke to Larry Durant yesterday afternoon, and he said to bring it in today.”

  Chelsea looked surprised. “Oh, you want your car fixed then?”

  “That’s the general idea. You are open for business, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s just that—well, most of the customers coming in or calling today want to know when they can take their cars away, even if they’re not fixed yet.”

  “What? Why would they do—” Emma took a breath. “You can’t mean because of Sean?”

  Leaning an elbow on the counter, Chelsea nodded solemnly. “It’s true. People don’t want their cars serviced by a murderer, you know.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. Sean’s not even here, and besides, he’s not the only auto mechanic here, is he? I know he employs Larry and his cousin, Bart.”

  Chelsea nodded. “Yeah, and there’s Jimbo sometimes.”

  “Exactly. Three other people. And Sean has only just been arrested. He’s innocent until proven guilty.”

  “We-ell…” Chelsea ducked her head, hiding her face behind a mop of bouncy curls. “I dunno.”

  “You don’t think he’s innocent?”

  Chelsea wiggled her nose for a bit. She looked like a rabbit nibbling at a lettuce leaf. “I don’t think he’s that innocent. I was here; I heard him yelling over the phone at Tony Barnet the other day, the day he got killed. Sean was really mad. Mostly, he’s a nice boss, but sometimes he loses his temper, and then he gets a bit scary. Not often, you know, but when he does, boy, it’s like he becomes someone else. He screamed at Mr. Barnet that he wasn’t going to take this lying down, that he would make sure he—Mr. Barnet, that is—would pay. And then he came bursting into this office, and his face was all scrunched up and he looked like he was going to kill someone…oops, I didn’t mean it like that…”

  “Did you tell the police all this?” Emma asked.

  “Well, sure. When they came with the search warrant, they talked to all of us. Officer Ackerman questioned me, and I told her everything. She wrote it all down in her notebook, and I’m sure she’d give the information to the chief.”

  Yes, Emma was sure, too. Sherilee was a conscientious
cop, if nothing else.

  “So Sean and Tony were arguing over some unpaid bill, were they?” Emma asked. She may as well try to get as much information out of Chelsea as possible, seeing as the receptionist was so eager to talk.

  Chelsea nodded. “You wouldn’t think a man like Mr. Barnet would have trouble paying his bills, would you? But I often find it’s those rich ones who don’t pay until the last minute. Probably because they’ve maxed out all their credit cards.”

  “I know Tony Barnet drives—drove—some fancy cars. They can be expensive to fix.”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t bring his Porsche here for repairs. It was his black SUV. Apparently he drove straight into a store front on Main Street. Damaged the front of his car. The repair bill was eight thousand dollars. Who’s going to pay that now Mr. Barnet is dead?”

  “I suppose it will come out of his estate, eventually.”

  “Which means, not any time soon.” Chelsea huffed out a sigh that lifted her bangs. “Maybe my mom is right about looking for a new job. I mean, if customers are taking their cars away and bills aren’t getting paid, then where does that leave me?”

  “I think you should wait until Sean returns and talk with him,” Emma said, feeling concerned. How quickly things could change. Until a day ago, Sean had owned a thriving business, but now everything was crumbling away.

  Chelsea didn’t appear reassured by Emma’s reply. In fact, she seemed more doubtful at the prospect of talking with Sean. Maybe she doesn’t want to be alone with a man charged with murder. A sense of increasing helplessness swept over Emma.

  “Do I need to fill out any paperwork for my car?” she asked, conscious of time ticking by. Caitlyn would be getting antsy outside waiting for her.

  “Here.” Still looking distracted, Chelsea pushed a block of paper forms toward Emma and handed her a pen. “We need your name, address, phone number, and your license plate.”

 

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