Beachside Murder (A Team Gossip Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Martha Rivers

  Nathan had seen me when I’d arrived, and he’d insisted to listen to my version of the story over a cup of coffee. It was the perfect excuse to catch up after so many years, and we wouldn’t get many other opportunities away from our aunts.

  We could hear everything from his office.

  “How do you dare to summon me like a common criminal?” Carlo Russo, the short and stout businessman who had argued with Parrish, entered the police station accompanied by two detectives. They had asked him to accompany them to question him about his argument the night of the murder, but he’d taken it as a direct accusation. He walked in and stared at everyone around him, raising his hands in the air and gesturing like an Italian mafioso. He even had a slight accent, but I couldn’t tell where it came from. “I’m glad that he’s dead, you know? He only brought grief to honest business like me.”

  The captain guided him to one of the rooms and Russo snatched his arm away in case someone touched him.

  “Police…” Russo continued speaking loudly so that almost the entire town could hear him. He entered the interrogation room, and nobody had closed the blinds, so we could see him perfectly. He sat down on one of the chairs, pulled it closer to an austere table, and tapped on it with the tips of his fingers. “I pay my taxes every year, pay the state so that it pays you, and there’s no respect for the common businessman. I’m taken through an inquisition process first, freed later. Where’s the Constitution? Where are my rights? What am I supposed to do with the time you force me to waste, huh? I can’t hire my own replacement, you know?”

  “Please, Mr. Russo,” one of the detectives said quietly. “If you lower your voice―”

  “I won’t go down without making noise!” Russo said. “I know the likes of you. I’ve read about corruption in the police and in the justice system. I’m not going to pay any bribes, any fees or anything that you intend to squeeze out of me. I didn’t come to this country to end up paying like at home.”

  “We don’t want you to pay us anything, Mr. Russo,” the captain insisted. “And please speak quietly. There are people working.” He closed the door and joined the other two.

  Russo roared in laughter and clapped his hands twice. “That’s what all corrupt policemen say! No?” He started talking with a thicker accent, as if imitating someone from his home country. “No, I don’t want you to pay me. I’m honest and law-abiding. Now, I’m going to place this envelope here and I’ll go for a pee. When I get back, we’ll see if you’re really guilty of whatever I’m accusing you.” He leaned back with a broad smile and looked at both detectives defiantly. “I know how it works, and you won’t get a cent out of me.”

  “A fine catch, this one,” Nathan said between chuckles. “When Jones and Gomez have gone to fetch him, he’s greeted them with a pointed gun. He was convinced that they were criminals dressed as cops and that they were planning to kidnap his family and ask for a steep ransom.” He shook his head and took a sip of his double chocolate coffee.

  “That’s horrible,” I said. “He could’ve killed someone!”

  “I doubt it.” He kept laughing. “It was a water gun, actually. One of those bright orange and green guns that kids use. I don’t know if he really expected the guys to take his threats seriously.”

  The police from some counties and states took their jobs very seriously, even too seriously at times. At Greensea, we took life less seriously. Many of us had lived there most of our lives, or at least we’d spent many summers there. We were in a quiet and peaceful region that barely saw any serious crimes. Someone stole someone else’s bike or tools every once in a while, but they were isolated crimes.

  “I’m not going to calm down!” Russo shouted from the interrogation room. “I’m not tense and I’m not shouting. I’m just talking at a comfortable volume for a man who’s been taken out of his home and forced to chat about some murder. I don’t even know if you’re real cops.”

  “Mr. Russo,” one of the detectives said, “we can ask someone else to verify our identity. We’re in a police station; there must be someone whose word you can trust.”

  Russo waved his hand dismissively in the air. “And they’re all bought. Think I don’t know the workings of this, mister? Now you want to charge me with murder, when I’ve only argued with one of the worst slimes in business. Ask anyone: he brought me to the verge of bankruptcy to buy me out, and now he’s dead and he won’t buy me out. He’s a traitor and he’s died ruining my life even more than if he’d remained alive!

  “Are you telling us that you didn’t kill him?” one of the detectives asked.

  “I’d have killed him 10 years ago if I’d had the chance and the guts,” Russo said explosively. “But I didn’t have either. Now? Now I’d have waited to sign the contract and killed him later, not now. Now I’ll have to deal with his heirs and hope that they want to carry my deal through. Honestly, it’s going to be a hassle.”

  “But you could get a better deal from them, correct?”

  “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t take that route; I don’t like where it goes. Parrish was ruining my company every day and making it lose market valuation, but he was eventually going to buy me out like he did with his competitors. He plays dirty.” Russo laughed out loud. “Played. At least I’ve won at something, haven’t I?”

  “So he was squeezing you economically and you argued with him to try to make him stop? Are you saying that his death has improved your economic situation?”

  “Do you speak my own language?” Russo was starting to get nervous. He dried his forehead with a handkerchief and adjusted his position. “I don’t even know his heirs, and I couldn’t care less about them. Will I sell them my business at a higher price? Perhaps, but it’s going to take months, even years, until they have everything sorted. What am I to do in the meantime, huh? How am I going to feed my family?”

  Nathan chuckled. “He’s digging his own grave.”

  “Did he do it?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’d have taken him straight to jail if someone had killed Parrish with a gun or blunt object; that’s his style. But poison? It’s twisted and indirect. Doesn’t go with him, does it?”

  No, it didn’t.

  Nathan updated me about the man’s past and his link to Parrish. Russo hated Parrish because his family had owned a factory that made golf balls, but Parrish had squeezed them financially, buying their debts and forcing their distributors to stop buying from them. The plan was to reduce their sales, make them face their loans without any liquid assets, and force them to sell out at a loss. Parrish had done it more than once in his career.

  That explained his fortune.

  Russo lacked an alibi and an excuse. He’d been at the restaurant shortly before the crime, and he’d been close enough to Parrish’s drink to poison it.

  Nathan exhaled loudly. It was one of his first days at the post, and he was already tired. “We’ll arrest him for now,” he said. “Shaw thinks he did it and wants to close this as soon as possible. He doesn’t want to go back to Greensea in a while. Do you think it has anything to do with our aunts?”

  I grinned like an idiot, but I couldn’t forget about Russo. He was nervous, but he was too annoyed with Parrish to have killed him.

  I selfishly hoped that he was guilty, though. If the police found the culprit, we’d all get on with our lives. The Sand & Sea didn’t need a long investigation. In fact, I wasn’t sure that the business would survive if this went on for too long. Like Pops had said, nobody wants to stay at a resort where people can die.

  Aside from Parrish’s mortal enemy, Nathan had also researched other possible murderers. His family, for instance, was in line to inherit a very large fortune. Parrish was going to marry soon, leaving them with nothing at all if Brittany played her cards well.

  Pops had been very talkative that morning and he’d told me everything about the Parrish family. Parrish’s brother and sister were living in New York, but his brother’s son, Phillip, sometimes returned to Greensea during
the holidays. As a teen, he’d always caused trouble in the neighborhood. He was a born bully and crushed everyone who wasn’t his devoted follower.

  Nathan and I remembered Phillip. They’d fought several times when Nathan had defended some of the younger kids. Nathan had once ended up with a burst lip, but he’d broken Phillip’s nose.

  Phillip had come to Greensea with his cousins when I was about 15. Mary, the youngest, was pretty and friendly, but she’d spent the whole summer chasing after Nathan. Her brothers, Sean and Adam, had ignored everyone in town; they considered themselves above the rest of us mortals. They would be easy to contact in case they could offer some extra leads.

  Nathan gestured at the piles of papers, notes, and diagrams that he had on his table. He’d piled up everything else on the cabinets nearby. “I look like a messy version of a crime investigator. Nobody ever tells you that you’ll need piles and piles of paper to solve a case. And I’m going to spend a fortune in coffee.” The inspector walked past the office, and Nathan hurried me away. “Leave before someone notices you. I’m supposed to be working. What credibility will I have if you keep distracting me at work?” He grinned at me.

  “Hey!” I said playfully. “I’m here to talk about the case. Remember?”

  “And you’ve made me say everything I know,” he complained. “You’ve even gathered more information than my aunt, and that’s something.”

  We smiled at each other and laughed. It was almost as if time hadn’t passed and we were two kids playing in an office. Nathan felt the same nostalgia and lowered his gaze to focus on his papers.

  I was glad to have him back, but we were no longer in college. We’d eventually find a new normality between us. Hopefully one where we continued being good friends.

  Chapter 9

  “This murder has changed our plans, eh?” Vincent said as he was giving me a ride home in his car.

  We hadn’t talked much since the murder. I’d reconsidered our relationship at times before the crime, but now I didn’t want to change anything. I didn’t want to let the shock mess up my life.

  “They could’ve killed him elsewhere,” he continued. “At least they wouldn’t have caused so much trouble at your restaurant.”

  “That’s a bit insensitive, isn’t it?” I spoke before thinking. I did consider it insensitive. Even though it would’ve been nice not to have a crime in the restaurant, it would’ve been much nicer not to have any murders at all.

  “Insensitive? Why? Do you think the world is pretty and pink? That people don’t kill each other in twisted and brutal ways?” He let out a condescending chuckle. “You keep thinking it if you like, but your being in Fantasyland won’t change reality.”

  That sounded arrogant and patronizing, but I wasn’t going to use his words against him. Vincent had planned a business trip for the whole week. He had to go to New York for several business meetings, and he hadn’t been able to prepare properly for them. He was tense and tired, and everyone was stressed out. We said stupid things and acted stupid; we’d go back to normal once the case was solved.

  “I won’t stay in New York this week,” Vincent said. “I’ll take a plane there and back a couple of days.”

  “Really?”

  Was I imagining things? Was Vincent really speaking? Or was it all a twisted joke?

  “It’s been a difficult week,” he said, “and you know the cops: they don’t want anyone leaving town. I’ll stay around and help in whatever I can. It’s the least I can do.”

  I smiled to myself. Vincent had been very difficult to bear lately, but his support meant a lot. I hadn’t expected him to stay by my side during these troubled times.

  Perhaps he and I still had hope as a couple.

  Or perhaps this was Dr. Jekyll, and Vincent would go back to being Mr. Hyde soon. I didn’t want to continue dating Mr. Hyde.

  Chapter 10

  After my early morning jogging session the following day, I got dressed for work and reached the restaurant before most of our employees. Derek had arrived early to his post at the kitchens; he was peeling potatoes to surprise Antoine and to get extra points for his contract renewal.

  He was singing as he worked, almost as if he enjoyed his job more than anything in the world.

  “You look very busy this morning,” I told him.

  He smiled broadly at me. “I’m happy when I’m busy.”

  He had spent about an hour peeling potatoes. Pops still hadn’t decided on whether to renew his temporary contract at the restaurant, but he was cheerful anyway. Derek liked his job and he was going to have a difficult time if Pops didn’t renew his contract soon. He even called Pops grandpa and said that he’d like to continue working at the restaurant.

  Derek tried hard, but he made many mistakes in the kitchens, left the fridge open, swapped and mixed spices without permission, and sometimes even changed the ovens’ temperature. He worked hard and always tried to help, but he would make us lose money until he learned the job better. The Sand & Sea would’ve been able to retain hard-working employees on most occasions, but this was going to be a difficult time for everyone.

  April had surprisingly arrived early to work too. She was deeply concentrated, sitting on a chair and with her head leaned on a kitchen counter, both eyes closed and yellowy early morning marks on her cheeks.

  Okay, perhaps she hadn’t arrived early. She must’ve fallen asleep during her shift and nobody had bothered to wake her up. Pops wouldn’t have liked to catch her asleep in the restaurant, but I didn’t mind; she worked well with customers and she always had a smile ready for them. And besides, she was my best friend! What was I supposed to do? Fire her?

  April and I had been close friends since kindergarten. We’d gone to school together, then to high school, and we’d even gone to college together. We’d both studied business, but we liked cooking too, so we’d simultaneously signed up for a prestigious cooking course.

  When professors had expected us to go to class, we took turns, and each of us signed on both of our names. Hmm… Yes, we did break the rules, but we needed to survive. Our days were only 24 hours long, and we needed to sleep and eat too. We also exchanged notes and gossip, and April was always awesome at criticizing our ex-boyfriends.

  I made some coffee and brought it beside her. She didn’t wake up, so I placed it noisily on the counter.

  She jumped up. “Huh?” Her eyes scanned the room, then noticed me. “Oh, hi.” She rubbed her cheeks to try to make herself look less guilty for sleeping at the restaurant.

  “You’d have been the first person to start her shift,” I said, “but Derek has started much sooner. He’s in the kitchens, surrounded by mountains of potatoes.” I poured some coffee in my glass and added a tiny bit of sugar. I was trying to drink black coffee because I’d read that it was healthier, but I couldn’t take it without any sugar at all.

  “He’s sweet,” April said. “He’s always trying to get the tourists to talk to him. I sometimes feel bad for dodging his conversation, but he keeps going if you don’t avoid him. He tries hard, but he flips orders around when we haven’t ticked them off, so we end up annoying the customers. I’d rather have him working for Antoine 100% of the time, if you know what I mean.” She grinned mischievously.

  Yes, we both knew that Antoine and April didn’t see eye to eye. Antoine had been acting strange lately, annoying everyone in the kitchen more frequently than usual. Adding Derek to the mix was only going to make things worse. The Sand & Sea needed to work well. We couldn’t lower our standards only because Derek was nice and fitted in well.

  “He does put in a lot of effort,” I mused. “And he tries so hard to get on everyone’s good side.”

  “Vincent hates him,” April said with a half-smile, “so I like him.” She put three spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee, tasted it, and added some extra sugar. She tasted it again and nodded approvingly. “Now let’s stop talking about people we like and let’s talk about that annoying, toxic, and arrogant parasite.�
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  “Do you mean Brittany?”

  I didn’t like Brittany, but did she deserve those adjectives?

  “Yes, exactly,” April said. “You won’t believe what she said to me…”

  She said that Brittany had arrived at the cafe, and that she’d looked at April from head to toe, then made a constipated face. She’d asked for a clean spoon because she’d dropped hers, and April had told her that eating stuff from the floor helped keep the immune system on its toes. Brittany had complained that April was lazy and had threatened to file a formal complaint with her boss, so April had given her a new spoon.

  “I’d have spitted on it,” April said, “but I don’t want my DNA to end up inside Brittany’s stomach. I’m sure that she performs voodoo rituals on the people she doesn’t like; I don’t want to make it any easier.”

  “She can’t be so horrible, April!” I said.

  “Oh, she is.” April wasn’t going to let anyone convince her otherwise. “And at least she hasn’t inherited everything that Parrish has left behind. Otherwise, imagine her arrogance. She’d have treated us like rubbish!”

  Chapter 11

  I was heading to the restaurant when Antoine pushed Derek out of the door and gestured at him to leave. “Go to the cafe, go anywhere you like, but don’t come back here and ruin any of my dishes again. If I see you spoiling my food, I’ll chop you into little pieces and feed you to the fish!”

  Derek looked back at him with his classic innocent smile, shrugged and kept going with his life. Antoine slammed the restaurant door shut. Derek could get annoying whenever he touched things he shouldn’t be touching, but Antoine’s mood was getting worse and worse each day.

  “Derek,” I called him. “What’s happened?”

  He smiled at me. “Hello, Miss Croft.” He shook his head, still without any resentment towards Antoine or any embarrassment for being kicked out of the restaurant. “I tried to help the chef with one of his new recipes, but he didn’t want me to open the cabinets or touch the frying pans. I deserved it, though. Don’t blame him.”