Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series

by Belle Knudson

  She startled when she thought she heard something inside the house. Glancing up at the sliding glass door, she saw only her own reflection. The sun was too bright, the glare too stark to see into the house. She realized her heart was pounding, but she kept wedging the scraper further and further under the tile. When she sensed she had a good angle, she popped the scraper up, but it only caused the corner edge to crack off, leaving the majority of the tile intact.

  She tried again and again, and more and more of the tile cracked off in pieces until finally she chinked the scraper deep into the hardened putty, getting a hefty angle. When she pried again, the entire tile popped off. She tossed it and examined the hard layer of putty.

  Why did she have to do such a good job leveling the soil? She would need to crack through two solid inches and a palette scraper might not do the trick. She sighed and wiped her brow, realizing she would need a jackhammer, but knowing there was no time. Not to mention renting such a thing at Grayson’s, dragging it back here, and hammering away would draw all kinds of suspicion.

  Using all her strength, she whacked the layer with her scraper again and again, trying to break up the hard layer, and it worked.

  Soon she had cracked up enough pieces to flick them away, exposing the soft earth underneath.

  Quickly, she began digging, chucking soil onto the yard, and wincing with each breaking nail. Finally, six inches down and just beneath the surface, she felt something metal.

  She pulled the object out.

  It was a gun.

  The murder weapon. The evidence that Meredith was guilty of Clifford’s death and not Daisy.

  Immediately, she called Scott and after three rings, he picked up.

  “Katydid,” he said, sounding cheerful in a way that made her wonder what might have transpired in his investigation since last night.

  “Scott!” she whispered urgently. “I’m at Meredith’s. I found the gun!”

  “What?” he asked, as though she’d just spoken in a foreign language.

  “I told you it was Meredith and not Daisy. I found the murder weapon. It was under one of the patio tiles I laid down. You have to get over here. I’m sure it has her finger prints all over it.”

  “Well, don’t touch it.”

  Damn, she had, so she set it on the ground.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay. Wait, no! Or yes, come but you have to send an officer to the airport. Meredith is supposed to fly to Florida today. You can’t let her leave the state!”

  “I’ll take care of it. Just stay where you are.”

  “Are you going to let Daisy out of jail?” she asked excitedly.

  “If this checks out,” he told her then got off the phone.

  It felt like an eternity passing as she waited for Scott to arrive. Her heart was punching up her throat. What would she do if Meredith came back? Would the woman try to kill her to keep the secret? Would Kate have to use her own gun against her?

  She feared to imagine, but before she sank completely down that rabbit hole, Scott began stalking around the side of the house towards her.

  Jumping to her feet, she pointed at the gun and said, “It’s right there.”

  A few officers followed after Scott. Officer Garrison used a clear evidence bag to collect the gun, and another, Tolland, asked about filing for a search warrant then asked Kate if Meredith was home.

  “I don’t think so,” she said then turned to Scott. “Did you get Meredith?”

  “My guys are on it. She won’t get away. But Kate, if we pull up the registration on the weapon and it’s not hers—?”

  “It won’t be. She’s a drug dealer. Daisy told me as much.”

  “If her prints aren’t on it—”

  “I found it buried under her patio. Whose gun would it be?”

  “If it’s not a match for the one that killed Clifford—”

  This time it was Officer Garrison who interrupted him.

  “It is. Twenty-eight caliber.”

  Scott didn’t divert his focus from Kate. “There are a lot of I’s and T’s to dot and cross. This is a process.”

  “Fine. I get it. And by the way, I told you so.”

  Scott smirked at her. “You so enjoying being smug when you can, don’t you?”

  “Very funny.” After a beat, she said, “I was going to have lunch with Jason and Jared.”

  “I’m going to need a statement from you, namely, how you knew to look here under the patio tiles.”

  “Can I swing by the precinct after lunch?”

  “Don’t forget,” he told her, as she padded around the house for her truck.

  Before she took off, she put in a call to Polly’s Pizzeria to pick up an extra-large cheese pizza, which was ready for her by the time she stepped through the doors.

  After, she arrived at Jason’s house in record time and found Jared’s car parked along the curb, so she pulled up behind it and climbed out. As good as she felt having exposed Meredith for the murder, her struggle to restore peace in Rock Ridge was far from over.

  She grabbed the pizza box and made her way inside where Jason and Jared were seated on the couch and having beers. Ordinarily, she would chide them for having a drink so early, but considering all they would face later that evening, Jason especially, more than anything a drink was in order.

  “I hope you like plain cheese,” she said, setting the box on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen to get some plates. Cheese was no one’s favorite, but ever since the twins were little they had never been able to decide on toppings, so to troubleshoot wrestling matches she got into the habit of getting plain cheese. Strangely, no one happy was better than one of them being happy.

  When she returned with three plates, she found them wolfing down their slices, which made her smirk to herself at why she had even bothered.

  “I’m worried about tonight,” said Jason, setting his crust on a plate. He took a long haul from his beer, leaning back on the couch.

  She didn’t want him to be anxious, but she was glad he was sharing his feelings with them instead of bottling it up and climbing into bed.

  “You just have to stay positive, bro.”

  Kate seconded the statement then her cell buzzed in her overalls. When she swiped the screen, she saw a text from Scott that said: Officer Hardy has Meredith. Tell the twins I say hi.

  She replied simply saying, Thanks.

  “Scott says hi,” she said.

  After finishing her own slice of pizza, Kate went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, which she soon realized neither of them wanted. She drank a cup on the couch with them and then told them she had to go.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Making a point to connect with Jason, she looked him in the eye and added, “It’ll be okay. By this time tomorrow Becky will be rushing around, making wedding arrangements, and driving everyone crazy like old times.”

  He smiled, but it wavered badly. “Thanks.”

  Kate started off, driving down the street. The yellow paint on Jared’s office walls should be dry, and she had plenty of time to paint on a second coat and maybe see about assembling his shelving unit if the fumes weren’t too bad. It was wishful thinking, but if she could clear her plate, she would feel a lot calmer about the ransom drop off tonight.

  When she reached the mayor’s office, greeting the receptionist with a smile, Dean rushed out of his office, gaping at her in astonishment.

  “Yes?”

  “In my office. Now.”

  Taken aback, she cocked her head at his intensity, but obliged, entering his office. Dean shut the door behind her.

  “Meredith Joste?”

  “I found the murder weapon.”

  “She didn’t do it, Kate.”

  “You want to think she didn’t do it,” she countered.

  “I can’t believe this,” he said, running his hands down his face as though he had come undone.

  “I know she donated money, and I’m sorry for your
shock, but—”

  “Was donating money,” he said, correcting her.

  “I thought you said she already donated.”

  “It was a payment plan on a monthly basis,” he explained. “She didn’t want to give it all at once.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but she’s a killer. You don’t want her money anyway. She was dealing drugs.”

  “I don’t know why you think that, but it sounds crazy.”

  Kate refused to apologize further than she already had.

  Dean sat at his desk and muttered to himself, “I’m going to have to find another donor.”

  Stepping backwards, she said, “I’ll let you get to it. I’m going to be painting.”

  She put a fresh paint roller onto her paint rod then cracked open a new can of paint and challenged herself not to think about Meredith or Daisy or Becky or anything for the next few hours, while she worked.

  But it was impossible. Her mind started wandering then it started racing and though it made for efficiently stroking paint onto the walls—the higher her stress the faster she worked—by the time she was done she wanted nothing more than to connect with Daisy, the one person who would truly appreciate that she had exposed Meredith.

  In a twist of good luck, or maybe it was the fumes making her feel chipper, she received a text message from Scott that though he was still questioning Meredith, Daisy had been released.

  Figuring Daisy would go to her diner to make sure it was still standing after her absence, Kate headed in that direction after leaving the mayor’s office.

  She got to Daisy’s just after four in the afternoon, pulling into the parking lot that was completely empty. Because it was, she circled her truck around, peering into the diner windows. The place looked closed, which was unheard of on the weekend. Angling out of the parking lot, she caught sight of movement in her rear view mirror and pulled along the curb, rolling to a stop. It was Daisy. She had just left the restaurant and was rushing to her car on the sidewalk.

  Kate had an impulse to jump out of her truck and give her a hug, happy she had been released, but what she saw next prevented her.

  Daisy slashed her own tires.

  Chapter Ten

  It didn’t make any sense. Daisy had been in jail when Kate’s tires were slashed. And Daisy didn’t match the description Bobby Shank had given her as the woman who had gotten into a fight with Clifford. So why was Daisy now slashing her own tires? It wouldn’t be necessary to further incriminate Meredith. She was already in with Scott being questioned.

  Though it was beyond any logic Kate could figure out, it was just enough to compel her to follow Daisy when she began walking in the opposite direction down the street.

  She popped her door open, stepping onto the sidewalk. Being sure to keep her distance, she trailed after Daisy, as she passed Bean There, Corey’s Cabinets, and The Rail, which happened to be Kate’s favorite bar.

  Then Daisy turned into the alley between the bar and Harriet’s Hairdos.

  Kate held her breath when she reached the corner of the alley and hesitated to peer around. What if Daisy looked over her shoulder and caught her?

  Why was someone who was innocent acting so strangely?

  Finally, she dared glance around the corner. Deep in the alley, Daisy was arguing with Grady, the cook, who was standing in front of a black van. The van was idling, and its side door was wide open. If Kate wasn’t mistaken, she thought she spied Bobby Shank inside arranging boxes.

  Could it be supplies for the diner? If it was, why was the construction worker involved?

  Suddenly, Daisy slapped Grady clear across his face, and Kate thought he might retaliate, but he did nothing, just stood like a statue and took it.

  Then Daisy pointed her finger at him and he rounded the van and got behind the wheel. Bobby closed the side door and Daisy jumped in the passenger’s seat and then the van took off, barreling up the alley straight for Kate, who ducked back around the corner unseen.

  As the van flew past into the street, she memorized the license plate number then started for her truck with every intention of following them.

  By the time she was pulling into the street, the van glided through an yellow traffic light. Kate had no choice but to stop for the red, all the while she kept her eye on the van. It was heading straight, but if it turned, she would know it.

  The light couldn’t turn fast enough, and when it did, Kate stepped on the gas. Her tires screeched then gripped the road, as the truck flew forward.

  The van switched lanes, cutting off a sedan, and to stay on its tail, Kate cut the wheel and immediately heard a horn blaring. She swerved back and shouted, “Sorry!” finally seeing the vehicle in her blind spot.

  Then the black van took a hard left turn onto Rock Ridge Boulevard where it picked up speed.

  Maneuvering carefully, she eased into the left lane, and then cut the same turn. With hardly any vehicles on the boulevard, she was able to pick up speed, but didn’t dare get too close to the van. Her Mrs. Fix It truck was distinct, and if Grady glanced in the rearview, he might put together who was following them.

  Which begged the question: What in the hell were they doing?

  Was she chasing a red herring as Carly had warned her against? Or was this knee-jerk reaction to follow them a trustworthy instinct that would add one more piece to the puzzle she had been convinced she had solved?

  The black van turned off the road, slowing and bouncing over the lip in the asphalt that separated the boulevard from a mustard packing facility.

  MUSTARD?

  She read the name clear as day on the side of the warehouse: Langley’s Best Mustard Since 1979.

  Curving around the side of the warehouse, the black van disappeared from view, and if she followed after it any faster or closer, she would be in danger of being caught, so Kate pulled off and wedged her truck between a delivery truck and a beat up Volvo, venturing to take the next steps on foot.

  She kept her gait quick and soundless, as she advanced around the warehouse, listening for Daisy and the ex-cons under the noises of the packing machines. Who knew making mustard could be so loud?

  And why on earth had Daisy driven to Lance Langley’s facility?

  Piling up in her mind were more questions than answers, and when Daisy came into view, as Kate peered into the packing plant, those questions became even more complicated.

  Grady began unloading the boxes from the van, stacking them beside a crate of mustard jars, as Daisy snapped her fingers at the Langley employees who dared glance her way and it did the trick. With each snap, they diverted their eyes and kept to their work, minding their own business.

  What gave Daisy the authority, Kate wondered? And why were the Langley employees obeying?

  Kate realized Bobby Shank wasn’t in the mix, and she scanned her eyes through the facility, searching for him.

  She startled, her stomach leaping up her throat, when she felt hands grabbing her from behind. Before she could scream, a hand covered her mouth, giving her left arm the freedom it needed to slam her elbow back into the ribs of whoever was seizing her.

  He grunted, but yanked her backwards then slammed her against the side of the warehouse. It was Bobby Shank, she realized looking up at him.

  “You think you’re smart, do you?” he said through his teeth, not at all the helpful passerby she had met at the amusement park construction site. “You shouldn’t have followed us.”

  “Why did Daisy slash her own tires?”

  He glared down at her. “You really want to mess with a woman who’s nuts enough to drive a knife into her own tires?”

  “Is she nuts enough to have killed Clifford?”

  “And bait you into getting Meredith locked up.”

  Kate gasped. Scott had the right killer all along and Kate had messed everything up.

  “But you told me Meredith had fought with Clifford that day,” she asserted. “She’s innocent?”

  “No one in Rock Ridge is innocent.”
>
  Before he could elaborate, Daisy appeared, stepping out from the warehouse with Grady.

  Ordering Shank, she said, “Throw her in the van.”

  “No!” Kate started fighting, trying to kick and elbow Shank to wriggle free, but he was far too strong and barely felt her blows.

  To Kate’s shock, the Langley employees kept their backs to her, as Shank threw her in the back of the van and climbed in after.

  When Daisy hopped into the passenger’s seat, Kate demanded, “Why frame Meredith?”

  “I didn’t,” said Daisy. “Meredith and I had a deal. She wanted out, and I told her all she had to do was leave Rock Ridge.”

  “Are those boxes filled with drugs?” she asked.

  Daisy only stared at her.

  “Why Langley’s?”

  Laughing, Daisy told Grady, who was climbing up behind the wheel, to kill Kate.

  “I am the police chief’s wife!” she yelled, finally embracing the title she had been resisting for the past two years. “You can’t kill me.”

  “I can kill anyone,” said Daisy so easily that it set Kate’s teeth on edge.

  “You’ll never get away with it.”

  “I already have.”

  “For drugs? That’s what this is about? I thought you said you would never hurt Clifford?”

  “Sometimes, when you really love a person, you have to kill them to ensure no one will ever hurt them.”

  My God, thought Kate. The woman’s completely insane.

  “Why kill Clifford in the exact same way Cookie was killed?”

  Daisy turned misty eyed, saying, “Because he wanted it that way. I gave him a choice and that’s what he asked for. He really loved that woman.”

  “Meredith will turn on you. She’ll take you down with her.”

  This time, Bobby responded. “She won’t. There are so many of us on the inside, our girlfriends in the women’s prison. She won’t talk, not without a world of misery coming down on her. And she knows it.”