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

by Karen Chester

  “Make the most of it, sunshine. I won’t do that again in a hurry.”

  The sparkle in his eyes gave her a fresh burst of tingles all over. Ugh, she wasn’t going to go all mushy over an old boyfriend, was she? What with Sherilee and now Owen, she was beginning to feel like a distracted, angsty teenager, the last thing she needed.

  Fortunately, they were interrupted by Mags with the veggie burritos and burger and fries. She deposited their plates, refilled their coffees, and fetched them glasses of water. By the time Emma tucked into her burger, she was feeling more composed.

  “How is your mom?” she asked. “I hope she’s feeling better after that housewarming party.”

  “She made a quick recovery.” Owen bit into his burrito and chewed. “Luckily she only had a small helping of that pistachio ice cream.”

  “Oh. So you know about the slug pellets in the ice cream?”

  He nodded. “Sherilee told me.”

  Some of Emma’s appetite vanished. She set down her burger and reached for a napkin from the caddy. “Officer Ackerman paid me a visit just before lunch. Wanted to know if I’d poisoned the ice cream. Can you believe the nerve of that woman?”

  “Sherilee’s a good police officer. She’s only doing her job. You should cut her some slack.”

  Emma dunked a fry in ketchup and crunched it loudly.

  “I’m surprised you and Sherilee aren’t dating,” she said, unable to temper her waspish voice.

  A chunk of avocado fell out of Owen’s burrito as he stared at her. “Dating?”

  “Yes, dating. You two seem to have a mutual admiration society going on, plus you’re both in law enforcement. Seems like a no-brainer to me.”

  “I don’t think Sherilee sees me that way.” Looking a little flushed, he bit into his burrito.

  Wrong. Emma had noticed the way Sherilee’s face had softened when Owen had arrived on the scene after the poisoning episode. The woman definitely saw Owen as more than just a colleague.

  “How do you know? Have you ever asked her out on a date?”

  “Why the sudden interest in my personal life?”

  “For heaven’s sakes. We dated all through senior year. Of course I’m interested in your personal life.”

  The abrupt silence around their booth alerted her that her voice had risen. She sighed inwardly. So what else was new? She’d always been too loud, too much, for Owen.

  She waved a hand at the diners around them. “Sorry about that, nothing to see here.”

  Turning back to her plate, she bent over her burger to avoid Owen’s eye.

  “Glad to see you haven’t changed that much.” He let out a soft chuckle.

  “You’re not embarrassed?” She risked a glance at him. He was chewing away at his burrito looking surprisingly relaxed.

  “Hey, I’m not eighteen anymore.”

  He looked better now than he ever had at eighteen. He had matured and made his place in this world. He was respected, successful, admired. A part of her couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t broken up with him. And another part couldn’t help wondering if there might still be a future for them. But she quickly quashed her speculation. She wasn’t ready to put her faith in another man. Not even one as trustworthy as Owen. And besides, he didn’t sound too enthusiastic about taking a trip down memory lane either. No, it was better all around if they could just be friends again.

  “Can I ask you something?” he said after he had finished his burritos.

  She sat up. Why did he sound so serious? Was he going to ask her out on a date? Her palms suddenly felt clammy. “Sure.”

  “I saw you driving away from the courthouse in La Quinta yesterday. What were you doing with Sean McCluskey?”

  Not a date, then. And suddenly he sounded stern rather than friendly.

  “I gave him a lift home. What’s it to you?”

  He pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the table. “He’s been charged with second degree murder. You should stay away from him.”

  “I happen to think he’s innocent.”

  “Why? Because he was friendly to you back in high school? Emma, the man has a criminal record. Witnesses heard him arguing with the victim shortly before the murder occurred. He owns the murder weapon, for Christ’s sake. How much more proof do you need?”

  “The Chief is prejudiced against Sean because he couldn’t make that possession of stolen goods charge stick. In fact, he’s prejudiced against all the McCluskeys. I don’t think the police did a thorough enough investigation. They just pounced on Sean because he was convenient. They haven’t considered any other suspects.”

  Owen stared at her for several moments, breathing hard. Then he leaned back. “Oh jeez. Don’t tell me you’ve volunteered to play detective for him.”

  She clenched her hands in an effort to control herself. “No one else believes him. Everyone is so eager to lock him up and throw away the key.”

  Owen raked his fingers through his short, mocha-colored hair. “Keep out of this. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’ll get hurt.”

  As if she wasn’t hurt already by his assumptions and his eagerness to believe the worst of her. She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “Thanks for that vote of confidence. You always know how to make me feel so good about myself.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. He pushed to his feet, grabbed his wallet from a back pocket, and tossed two twenties on the table. “Lunch is on me.”

  ***

  “Let me guess. Man trouble, huh?”

  Becky stood at the table, the ever-present coffee pot in her hand. Sighing, Emma gestured for her to take the seat Owen had just vacated. Becky topped up Emma’s coffee, sat down, and folded her arms expectantly.

  “He’s not my man,” Emma grouched. “And I’m glad he’s not because he’s overbearing and rude.”

  Why did she let Owen get to her like this? He was in her past; he shouldn’t be able to make her feel so juvenile. But she wasn’t going to stop helping Sean. If anything, Owen had spurred her on even more.

  “I’ve always found Owen to be thoughtful, kind, and generous. You were crazy about him when you were in high school.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Emma propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “Can we change the subject, please?”

  “Sure, honey. How’s your party planning going?”

  “Actually, I got the gig to do Tony’s funeral reception next Tuesday. I need to find a band to play his favorite songs.”

  “What kind of songs?”

  Emma pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through the playlist of songs that she’d transferred from the memory stick Jordan had given her. “Looks like a lot of seventies stuff. Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, Billy Joel…” She paused at one of the song titles. “Only the Good Die Young. Hmm, maybe I’ll cross that one off the playlist. But you see my problem. I don’t think your normal party band would strike the right note. I need a group that’s a bit more mature, less frivolous.”

  “Have you ever heard the Morrisons? They’re a kind of easy listening covers band, and they’re really underrated. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of going to see them tonight. They’re playing at the Rainbow Casino. Want to come with me?”

  Emma thought for a moment before nodding her head. She didn’t have much time to get everything organized for the wake, and if Becky recommended this band, then they were probably good. Plus, a night out would help her forget about Owen and his aggravating ways.

  “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven, and we can have a bite to eat while the band plays.” With a smile, Becky rose and left to see to her other customers.

  Emma spent the rest of the day making arrangements for Tony’s funeral reception. She visited Alvin Tucker to put in the food order. She could have done this over the phone, but, after learning about the poisoned pistachio ice cream, she felt it necessary to see him in person.

/>   Alvin was still upset over the incident and went to great lengths to assure her that all his staff had been with him for years and were completely trustworthy.

  “Alvin, if I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be here asking you for more catering, would I?” Emma said.

  He nodded, wiping a large cloth over his sweating forehead. “I’d be happy to provide the food. For Ms. Kozlowski’s sake, of course, not Mr. Barnet’s. He was never a pleasant man to those he didn’t need to impress.”

  This was nothing new to Emma. After she’d left Alvin, she considered the task of printing the funeral service booklets and creating the photo portraits of Tony. Greenville was too small for a photo printing business, but there were a couple in La Quinta, which was a much larger town. She’d drive over there this afternoon and get the booklets and portraits organized. But first she stopped off at the Sugar Rush, a busy bakery in the heart of Greenville where Honey, the owner and chief baker, took her order for the chocolate mud sheet cake together with the photo image that would grace it.

  “These edible photos are getting very popular,” Honey said. “Though at a funeral I’m wondering who’ll be game enough to eat a piece of this guy’s face.”

  We’ll see on the day, Emma mused. It would be interesting to see which of the mourners would tuck into a slice of Tony Barnet’s face. Would Kyle be one of them? As Tony’s only child, he’d definitely attend the funeral service at St John’s, but would he turn up at the reception? And what about his mother, the scary Pamela? Emma was hazy about funeral etiquette for exes, but if Pamela and Kyle arrived at the wake, Jordan would probably let them in rather than suffer an undignified brawl.

  ***

  “Well? What do you think?” Becky asked Emma as the Morrisons finished their set.

  Emma gave them a final clap. “They’re good, and I think they’ll be perfect for the funeral reception.” The five members of the band were in their forties, and the lead singer had a wonderful gravelly voice that would suit most of the songs Jordan had chosen.

  “I told Rusty about you.” Becky motioned at the lead singer who was coming off stage. “You can talk to him now.”

  Becky introduced Emma to the singer.

  “We’ve never played at a funeral reception before,” he said. “Should be interesting.”

  Emma brought up the list of songs on her cell phone, and they discussed which ones the band could perform. Rusty was courteous and easy going, and she felt confident he and the band would be just what Jordan had in mind. They exchanged business cards and arranged follow up calls before Rusty returned to the stage for the band’s final set.

  “Thank you,” Emma said to Becky. “That’s a load off my mind.”

  “Anything else I can help you with? You seem kinda antsy tonight.” Becky took a sip of her drink. “Still stewing over a certain deputy sheriff?”

  “No.” Emma compressed her lips. It wasn’t her love life, non-existent as it was, that occupied her thoughts, but someone else’s. “Okay, I’ll tell you. If I seem a bit antsy it’s because my dad went out last night with…a female friend.”

  “You mean a date?”

  “Not according to him. In fact, he jumped down my throat when I called it that, and you know my dad’s not the jumping-down-throat type. He insisted it was just dinner and a movie with a friend, but…well, it felt like it was more than that.”

  “Because he denied it was a date so strongly.”

  Emma blew out a sigh. “I’m glad he’s going out again, but I was clumsy and tactless about it, and I’m afraid that will drive him in the opposite direction.”

  “I’m sure it won’t. Your dad is a lovely man, and Janet Ramos is a sweet, kind woman.”

  Emma stared at her friend. “How do you know he went out with Janet?”

  Becky just smiled, and Emma wondered why she’d asked. Of course Becky knew about Janet because there wasn’t much happening in Greenville that Becky didn’t know. But, unlike other gossips in town, Becky was the soul of discretion.

  “This morning was awkward,” Emma confessed. “I didn’t know whether to ask Dad about the date, and he didn’t like talking about it.” She toyed with her wineglass. “Maybe it’s time I looked for my own place.”

  She didn’t realize she’d muttered the thought out loud until Becky patted her hand and said, “Sounds like a good idea.”

  But Emma was instantly assailed by doubt. How could she afford to move out when her business was teetering on the edge and she didn’t have a solid run of bookings?

  “I’ll have to wait until business picks up, though.”

  “It will. You’re a smart cookie. You’ll make things happen.”

  ***

  An hour later, they were walking through the parking lot toward Becky’s car when two men started arguing a short distance away.

  “You need to pay up!” the bigger one snarled, shoulders hunched. Tall and burly, dressed in black suit and shirt, he had the muscled demeanor of a thug.

  The other man was slimmer and no match for him in the muscle department, though he was far more nimble on his feet. He backed away warily until a line of Dumpsters cut off his retreat. “Look, there’s no need for violence. You’ll get your money if you just let me go in there.” He gestured at the entrance to the casino. “A few hours at the blackjack table and you’ll have your money. Guaranteed. I might even have a bonus just for you.”

  The burly thug laughed sneeringly. “You ain’t fooling me. You lose all the time at blackjack. You’re a class A loser. Now pay up!”

  Emma clutched at Becky’s arm. “Oh God! What should we do?”

  “Let’s get security,” Becky grimly replied.

  But before they could move, the thug launched himself at the shorter man, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. The victim, his face quite pale, managed to pull himself free and wiggled his way through the line of Dumpsters. The thug was too broad to follow suit. A couple of security guards came pounding out of the casino. The thug, obviously deciding to beat a hasty retreat, began to run away.

  “This isn’t the end of it!” He yelled at the row of Dumpsters where his target had taken cover. He jumped into a dark SUV and roared off just as the security guards were closing in on him.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” Becky nudged Emma’s elbow, and they hurried to her car, both of them left uneasy after witnessing the altercation.

  “What was that all about?” Emma asked when they were safely in Becky’s car.

  “You know what it’s like at casinos. Always some desperate gambler up to his eyes in debt who thinks he can make up all his losses in a few hours. It never ends well.”

  “Did you recognize either of those two men?”

  “No.” Becky turned curious eyes to Emma as she started the engine and pulled off. “Did you?”

  Even as Emma shook her head, something nagged her at the back of her mind. She didn’t know either of the two men, but there had been something familiar about the slimmer, more well-spoken man, the one who owed the money. Becky began talking about the Morrisons, so Emma stopped thinking about the man. It was only later when she was drifting off to sleep that she remembered where she’d seen him before. He was the same man she’d seen in the Whites’ garden this morning. The same man whom Madison had met in secret.

  Chapter Ten

  The following morning Emma woke to the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee. She walked into the kitchen to find her dad finishing up his breakfast.

  “Morning, sweetie. I’ve got an early morning faculty meeting today.” He nodded at a covered plate on the kitchen table. “I cooked you some bacon and there’s coffee.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and lifted the cover off the plate to take a piece of bacon.

  Andrew was already rinsing his plate at the sink. He seemed in a hurry this morning. “Is that all you’re having for breakfast?”

  She glanced up in surprise. “I’m not very hungry at the moment. I might grab some
thing from Becky’s later on.”

  He wiped his hands on a dishcloth, his movements jerky. He seemed in a hurry to leave yet anxious to say something, too.

  “So did you and Becky have a good time last night?” he eventually asked.

  “Oh, yes. I found a good band for Tony’s funeral reception.” She decided not to tell her father about the fight she and Becky had witnessed in the parking lot. No need worrying him over nothing.

  “Oh, that’s good.” He turned away to hang up the dishcloth.

  “Dad?” She waited until he was facing her again. “I just want you to know that…I’m glad you’re going out with your friends. You should do it more often.”

  He coughed and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, um, you should too. You’re a young, beautiful woman. There’re plenty of men wanting to go out with you.”

  It was her turn to splutter. “I’m not looking to date anyone, Dad. Not now. Not after Steven.”

  She’d thought Steven loved her. She’d thought they had a future together. But when her business partner had disappeared, and Emma was in danger of becoming homeless, she’d turned to Steven for help, thinking she could move in with him for a while until she was back on her feet. Instead, her helpful boyfriend had suggested they ‘cool things’ between them. He wanted to make partner at his firm soon, and having a bankrupt girlfriend clinging to him would be bad for his career.

  “Try to learn from your mistakes, but don’t let them rule you.” Her father patted her shoulder. “I can hear Janet pulling up in the driveway. Bye, chicken. Have a nice day.”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  She finished her bacon, then showered, dressed, and drove to her office. A full day of work lay ahead of her. Her first task was to visit the florist on Main Street and order five impressive floral arrangements of roses, lilies, carnations, and hydrangeas. Then, it was time for her meeting with the Kaupers to discuss menu options for their silver wedding anniversary.

  As she was driving away, a call came from Chelsea, the receptionist at Sean’s auto repair shop. Her car was ready, Chelsea told Emma, and she could pick it up any time this afternoon. With that good news, Emma perked up as she headed for Fisher Island where the Kaupers lived.