Cranberry Orange Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 29 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)

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Cranberry Orange Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 29 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 2

by Summer Prescott


  Chapter 4

  Holding hands, Missy and Chas were enjoying a walk on the beach with their two furry “girls,” Toffee, their golden retriever, and her maltipoo sidekick, Bitsy. After the intensity of the case that Chas had just finished, the chance to take in some fresh air was irresistible, even if the sun had gone down over an hour before. The dogs scampered about, dashing in and out of the water, Toffee’s plume of a tail throwing droplets of water and sand as it wagged joyfully back and forth.

  “I miss this,” Missy declared, snuggling into the circle of her tall, dark and handsome husband’s arm.

  “Me too,” Chas kissed the top of her head. “It’s been crazy around here lately. I’m more than ready for a little down time. Maybe we should take a vacation soon.”

  “Can the department spare you?”

  “Once upon a time I would’ve said that things are so slow around here that there’s no way they’d miss me, but it seems like more and more strange events are happening, so who knows?” he mused. “But, everyone needs a break at some point.”

  “True. I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself for a while,” she kissed his cheek.

  “Exactly,” he replied, stopping and gathering her close for a proper kiss. He lowered his head toward hers…and his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, eliciting groans from both of them. Kissing the tip of his wife’s adorable nose, Chas reached for his phone.

  “Case in point,” he said, grimacing when he saw the dispatch number on his caller ID. “Beckett,” he answered.

  After a short conversation with the dispatcher, he hung up and looked at his wife ruefully.

  “Gotta go in, huh?” she guessed.

  “Unfortunately,” he nodded.

  “Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Missy smiled fondly at her mate and, grabbing his hand, turned for home.

  **

  Detective Chas Beckett arrived at the Marina to see that his forensics team was already on site. The first person he encountered when he walked onto the dock, however, was Andrew Koslowski, who remembered him from the case that he had just finished.

  “Hey, Detective, how’s it goin’ man?” he offered his hand amiably. Chas shook it.

  “Mr. Koslowski,” he nodded a greeting. “I’m assuming that it’s one of your boats that I’m here to see.”

  “Yup, a dude took out one of my boats and died on it. Kinda trips me out, ya know?”

  “I’m sure it does. I’ll take a look,” Chas assured him, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves. “What have we got?” he asked the forensics guys who were milling about the scene.

  “Looks like a heart attack,” one of the nearby techs shrugged.

  “Then, why am I here?” the detective asked an officer who was taking notes.

  The officer rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, just for the satisfaction of the complainant,” he jerked his head to indicate Andrew. “He seemed to think that the circumstances surrounding the rental were “sketchy,” and thought that there might be foul play.”

  “What do we know?”

  “The deceased rented a boat from Mr. Koslowski around 10:30 this morning. He paid for the rental and the damage deposit in cash.”

  “That’s quite a bit of cash to be carrying around. Was he a drug dealer?”

  “Nope, he was a distinguished member of the community actually. Told Koslowski that he just needed to take a break and get away from it all. He wanted to take the copy of his driver’s license with him when he got back, but he never came back. Koslowski reported the boat missing just after sundown, because the boat was supposed to be returned before five and he couldn’t reach the renter on the radio. The Coast Guard happened to have seen the boat earlier, and went back to the general area where it had been spotted. They found it anchored in the middle of nowhere, and the deceased was laying where he fell. Considering his age and profession, I’d say it was almost certainly a heart attack.”

  “Who was he?” Chas asked.

  “Oncologist here in town. One of the best in the country.”

  The detective shook his head. “Shame. Any signs of foul play?”

  “Nope. The coroner was here and gone already. Didn’t see anything unusual, said it looked like a heart attack, so we won’t really know until the autopsy is done.”

  Chas nodded. “Okay, thanks. I’ll take a look around, talk to Andrew a bit, then we should be able to close this out, pending autopsy results.”

  “Yeah, that was my thought too,” the officer nodded.

  The detective stepped carefully aboard and took in his surroundings. There were two bottles of water that had been bagged for evidence, a few hairs that were collected, and, aside from that, nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. The deceased was dressed in casual, but expensive clothing, and didn’t have any visible ligature marks on his wrists or throat. There were no bruises, cuts or scrapes that he could see, and the startled expression in the corpse’s already darkening eyes indicated that he’d probably either died experiencing great fear or pain or both, which would be consistent with the sudden lethality of cardiac arrest.

  Climbing out of the boat, after having thoroughly examined every surface and crevice, including the storage compartments, Chas was reasonably sure that nothing was amiss, but nonetheless sought out Andrew Koslowski for a chat.

  “Pretty gross, huh?” the young man shook his head when Chas came back to him.

  “What can you tell me about your interaction with the deceased?” the detective asked, ignoring his insensitive question.

  Andrew related what had happened, and produced the copy of the doctor’s driver’s license.

  “Did he have any possessions with him when he boarded the boat? There’s nothing in the boat that looks like it belonged to him, other than a couple of water bottles.”

  “Yeah, he had a bag with him when he went out. It was dark-colored, like grey or blue or something,” the young man nodded, remembering.

  “Do you happen to know what was in the bag?”

  “Nope, didn’t ask. I just figured it was probably swim trunks and a snorkel or something,” he shrugged.

  “Was the bag in the boat when the Coast Guard towed it back in?”

  “Nope, not that I saw, but they didn’t let me get too close. Something about contamination or something, I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Thank you for your help. We’ll need to take the boat to impound for a few days, have my guys go over it with a fine-toothed comb, but you should have it back pretty soon,” Chas handed him a business card.

  “Alright, man. Take it easy,” Andrew stuck his hands in his pockets and headed down the dock to his boat.

  Chapter 5

  Echo was getting ready to head out the door for morning coffee and cupcakes with Missy, when she heard someone yelling in the front yard. Peeking past one of the grommetted burlap panels that hung over the large bay window in the living room, she saw Loud Steve in the midst of verbally assaulting her new neighbor. Rushing out to see what was going on, she observed Steve, red-faced and clearly agitated, poking his finger into the new neighbor’s chest, while the other man stood, regarding him mildly, clearly unfazed.

  “Steve!” she admonished, running over. “What’s going on here?”

  “I saw this sicko standing around out here, just staring at your house,” he blustered, in a moment of screaming irony.

  Steve had spent the better part of several days, every week, staring at Echo’s house, but apparently found it appalling that someone else had done the same.

  “I was looking for my cat,” the new neighbor replied quietly, blinking at Echo through coke-bottle thick glasses.

  “He was looking for his cat,” Echo frowned at Steve in reproof.

  “Yeah, sure he was,” Steve grumbled, still fuming.

  “What’s your kitty’s name?” she asked, sympathetically.

  “Jingles.”

  “Okay, if I see a cat wandering around, I’ll come and get you so that you can see if it’s Ji
ngles,” Echo promised, shooting Steve another scathing glance.

  “Steve, you need to go home now,” she directed, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows until he left in a huff.

  “I’m sorry about that. He really isn’t as nasty as he seems, you just have to get to know him better,” she said, knowing how lame her words sounded after what had just happened.

  “Okay. I have to go to work now. It’s my first day,” the plain, doughy man replied, nodding.

  “Oh, well good for you,” Echo grinned. “Have a great first day!”

  “Okay,” he replied, shuffling back toward his house.

  **

  Timothy Eckels was feeling good about his move from Key West to the town of Calgon, Florida. He’d seen an advertisement, posted by a mortician who was retiring, wanting someone to buy his business, and felt that it was good timing for him. He’d been in the Keys for a couple of years, and had met some nice folks, but had encountered too many misunderstandings and unintentional scrapes with the law to feel truly comfortable, so when he saw the chance to move, he took it.

  Elmer Fenster had run the only funeral home in Calgon for decades, and his father before him had done the same. Others had popped up since, but none had done even half as well as Memorial Mortuary, a graceful mansion close to downtown that provided all required funerary services. When he met quiet, middle-aged Tim, he saw something in him that made him feel that his family business would be in good hands.

  The new owner of Memorial Mortuary arrived at the mansion an hour before opening, just so that he could get a better feel for the place, and felt a thrill zip through him when he put the key in the lock to open the door. There weren’t any bodies to prepare as yet, but, as he well knew, that could change in an instant, and he wanted to be ready. Tim’s artistry in preparing bodies for presentation was legendary. Corpses seemed to somehow regain their vitality under his skilled hands – so much so that family members often watched their loved one’s chests during the ceremony to see if they would somehow miraculously rise and fall with breath.

  He glided through the spaces filled with somber velvets and gleaming hardwoods, headed for the staircase that led to the heart of the mortuary, the basement preparation room. In that sterile world of slick tile, stainless steel and sharp instruments – there among the husks of those who once lived – Tim felt at home. It was his world and he commanded it masterfully. Dealing with the public and all of the logistics of a funeral, well, that was just a necessary evil that he was forced to deal with, in order to showcase his artistry. Once he got things up and running, he’d pass off the “casket sales and bereavement” portion of his work to an assistant so that he could focus on doing what he did best.

  After making certain that all of his instruments were arranged properly, and all of his various substances, potions and mixes were right where he needed them, he ran an appreciative hand over a stainless steel draining sink and went back upstairs, only to be confronted by the ringing of the telephone. His heart skipped a beat as he considered the possibility that the call my bring in his first body. He needed to prove himself in this town, so every preparation counted.

  It was with much delight that he received the call from the Calgon Coroner’s office, notifying him that they’d be bringing him a deceased oncologist for preparation. The family had requested Memorial specifically, because that’s where all the best folks in town made their final stop, and would be in contact to make arrangements later in the day. He put on his somber face when the coroner’s assistants dropped off the body, knowing that most people found the pride that he took in his work to be disturbing at the very least.

  Tim noted that the body laid out on the prep table was that of a handsome, distinguished-looking man, whose thick hair and firm skin would present beautifully after he was done with it. As a matter of habit, whenever a body came in, he never took the cause of death for granted, and checked the body over carefully. The coroner had indicated that the cause of death was cardiac arrest, but it never hurt to double-check. There were no tell-tale signs of poisoning or strangulation, two of the more common causes of homicidal death, so Tim checked for the less obvious and was about halfway through his typical examination when he found something.

  The good doctor quite obviously spent a good deal of time in the sun, and had several moles scattered across his back and neck. On the outer perimeter of one of the larger moles on his neck was a small, pink dot that looked somehow out of place. Using a magnifying lens, Tim moved in for a closer look and discovered that the pink spot looked like a hypodermic entry point. If that was the case, the doctor may not have had a heart attack after all, or if he did, it may have been induced. Someone may have injected the doctor with a lethal substance.

  Tim sighed. While he enjoyed the intrigue of figuring out a cause of death, or potential cause of death, he absolutely hated having to contact coroners with the news that they had missed something. Somehow, they never seemed to react well to that information. Dreading the response that he might get, he dialed Stanley Nichimura’s number.

  “Hi, uh, Doctor Nichimura. It’s Tim. Tim Eckels from Memorial Mortuary.”

  “Good morning Mr. Eckels. It’s just Nichimura, I’m not a doctor. What can I do for you? Was there an issue with delivery?”

  “Umm…no. Well, kind of,” Tim answered awkwardly, as was the norm for him.

  Nichimura sighed. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Uh, yeah. Did you do a tox screen on this body?”

  Silence on the other end. Then, “No, there was no indication that one was necessary, why?”

  “Because, I uh…may have found an indication,” Tim said, cringing a bit and waiting for the cursing to begin. Some of his encounters with sloppy medical examiners in the past had been less than positive.

  Rather than cursing, there was more silence, as though Nichimura was digesting the information. “What did you find?” he asked finally, sounded more tired than angry.

  Tim briefly described what he had found, and heard Nichimura sigh again.

  “Alright, don’t do anything to the body. I’m going to have to send my guys back out.”

  Chapter 6

  Missy was already seated at their favorite bistro table in the cupcake shop when Echo arrived. Neither of the women had counted on Kel being there. He’d been a no-show for their morning get-togethers ever since his return from Boston.

  “Hey girl,” she called out, taking a big bite of Key Lime pie. “Your neighbor is a genius in the kitchen. Does he need a job?” she teased, savoring the perfectly fluffy and delicious pie.

  “No, he has one,” Echo smiled, pouring herself some coffee and grabbing a vegan pistachio cupcake.

  “Really? What does he do?”

  “No idea. He’s really shy, and quiet as a mouse – a plain-looking guy – but he seems really nice. Now if only I can protect him from the wrath of Loud Steve.” She told Missy about the altercation this morning, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “Life’s never dull in your neighborhood, is it?”

  “No kidding. I could use a little bit of “dull” every once in a while.”

  “Me too,” Missy replied with a sigh. “Chas got called out on another case last night.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “I don’t know yet, we haven’t had a chance to talk. He got home late and had to leave early, so we’ll see,” she shrugged, sipping her coffee, and scooping up another forkful of pie.

  The bells over the door jangled and both women were surprised to see Kel walk in. Missy jumped up and gave him a hug, then went behind the counter for another mug of coffee and a plate of cupcakes. Echo stayed seated and faked a half-smile when the artist glanced at her. He hadn’t yet responded to her email saying that she was leaving her position, but he had to have noticed that she wasn’t coming in to work.

  “Good morning, my lovely one,” he said to Echo when he reached the table, sounding tired.

  “Kel,” s
he nodded, unable to summon a smile.

  Missy noted her friend’s reaction with alarm, and set a plate of cupcakes on the table in front of Kel, along with a steaming mug of coffee.

  “Many thanks, dear lady, but I’m afraid I can’t stomach the thought this morning,” he smiled weakly, pushing the plate away.

  “On a diet?” Echo asked dryly, taking in his loose clothing and thinner form.

  “No. Just a touch of the…brown bottle flu,” he shrugged.

  “We reap what we sow,” was the muttered response.

  Missy thought her heart would burst with sorrow, and she looked at Kel begging him with her eyes to tell Echo the truth of his condition, but he merely looked away and sipped his coffee.

  Defeated, she sought to relieve some of the tension in the room by changing the subject.

  “So, what’s new in town?” she asked brightly, wishing that things could return to the way that they were.

  “Well, it seems that someone has finally met with Elmer Fenster’s approval and has been allowed to buy Memorial Mortuary,” Kel replied, with not even half of his typical gusto.

  “I wondered about that when his wife called and placed an order for over two hundred cupcakes. I thought that there might be a retirement party going on, finally,” Missy nodded.

  “And it seems that a prominent local oncologist has passed suddenly,” he continued, his voice grave.

  “Well, then, the new mortician will have something to do,” Echo interjected sullenly. They both stared at her for a moment, speechless.

  “What happened?” Missy asked eventually. “Was it a car accident or something?”

 

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