The aforementioned patio was an excellent spot for people watching, and since everyone in town was a busybody in one way or another, the outdoor area was usually considered the best seat in the house. Chloe knew EV preferred her perch by the kitchen door, but the patrons sitting outside were particularly loose-lipped. Today, however, the entire town was only talking about one subject, and Chloe didn’t hear anything she hadn’t heard already.
A short walk along a well-beaten path through a patch of apple trees led Chloe to the Pines’ small municipal building. Positioned kitty-corner from the Grange Hall, the octagon-shaped structure held a couple of small offices utilized by the current select men and women, and a part time clerk who handled fishing and hunting licenses and collected excise tax for vehicle registrations. Though not entirely necessary, the town provided their resident Deputy with an office located in the back of the building. Chloe wandered around to use the dedicated entrance.
Resistance met her tentative push on the office door. Peering around the box of donuts she balanced precariously on top of the tray of iced coffees, Chloe pushed harder and nearly fell in a heap onto a pile of file boxes.
A frazzled looking Dalton took the box of donuts from her so suddenly that the absence of weight threw her into another near spill. She glared at Nate, who’s mouth was screwed up into a mischievous smile he was obviously trying to disguise as concern.
“Why don’t you take your coffee and donut outside, and find a shady place to eat, Dalton? It’s time for a break, and it’s probably no hotter out there than it is in here.” Nate suggested.
“OK, boss. Nice to see you, Chloe.” Dalton nodded to her, looking slightly disappointed at not being allowed to listen in on Chloe and Nate’s impending conversation. “How’s EV doing?” he added with a hopeful look.
“She could be better, Dalton. Everyone in town thinks she’s Satan on a stick.” Chloe replied with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “Why don’t you call her, I think she could use some support, much as she’d hate to admit it.” She relented after seeing the crestfallen look cross his face.
Once he departed Chloe took a seat across from Nate and peered around the room. A distinct mark in the middle of the carpet matched the pattern of Nate’s desk legs. The desk was now pushed against one wall, presumably to make room for Dalton’s workspace.
Mismatched shelving lined the back office wall, and held a potpourri of items ranging from political science textbooks to fingerprinting and office supplies. She spotted a dusty bottle of antacids and one of those mounted talking fish among the mishmash.
Boxes piled high next to the door were labeled with dates, and Chloe remembered that all town records had been kept in this office behind a giant locked filing cabinet. It seemed to have disappeared in favor of Dalton’s desk. Every surface was covered with stacks of brown folders in various states of disintegration.
“Nice mess, huh? It was my bright idea to make Dalton a deputy. He seemed so eager, and having a helping hand sounded genius. But it seems I’ve created more work for myself in the form of organizing thirty years of town records. Do you know what kind of ridiculous documents were saved by the elders? I don’t care that in 1988 you purchased two cases of staples! Records retention was definitely a concern. So what’s going on, and why did you bring me high cholesterol?” Nate ranted until Chloe frowned directly at him with her right eyebrow raised.
“Wow, Mr. Crankypants. Tell me how you really feel!”
“I know you’re not here just for the pleasure of my conversation, or to fatten me up with donuts. What do you want?” Chloe liked friend Nate more than she liked cop Nate, that was for sure. She hoped he would settle in soon and lose the ‘tude. As much as he didn’t want to be here, Chloe thought he was acting like a big baby about the whole situation.
“I want to see the blackmail notes you found in Evan’s things.” Chloe responded without hesitation.
Nate allowed his mouth to drop open for a split second before snapping it shut again. “How do you manage to know as much as a trained detective? And how am I supposed to conduct an official investigation with everyone in town sticking their noses in where they don’t belong?”
“Might as well accept it; there’s nothing you can do about it. We heard it first from Lottie—and you know if there’s something to dish she’s going to make sure the whole town eats it up.”
He sat back and surveyed Chloe, his countenance morphing from disbelief and irritation to one of mischief and curiosity. “What are you going to give me in return?” His eyebrow rose in perfect imitation of Chloe’s earlier expression.
Unsure whether he was flirting with her or not, several thoughts—and a thrill of excitement—raced through Chloe’s head as she prepared a response. Is the entire Ponderosa Pines police force unopposed to bribery as long as it involves scoring a date? But since Nate had never asked her and been turned down, she chalked his attitude up to facetiousness and replied calmly, “I happen to also know that Luther received at least one threatening note of his own. I have the original, and I will give it to you as evidence. I don’t know if there were more; and I’m not exactly in a position to ask, since I don’t know if Talia’s aware of the situation. I don’t want to put any more on her plate right now. In addition to the note, EV and I will give you the inside scoop on all the Ponderosa gossip you can stomach.”
Digesting the information Nate opted not to scold Chloe again. At least she had come to him directly, and not sat on that note. He knew she was trustworthy, even if impetuous, and he could see there was no equal to the quantity and quality of EV and Chloe’s knowledge when it came to town affairs. Plus, working closely together had its perks. First off, he could make sure she didn’t get into trouble. Secondly, maybe he would finally get the opportunity to find out if she was interested in him as more than a friend.
A smile flitted briefly across his face before Nate turned serious, “I want you to stay out of trouble and keep me in the loop. You want in on this: you have to be up front with me and you have to promise that you won’t do anything Chloe-like. You share with me; I’ll share with you. Let’s just get these murders solved so I can finish cleaning this hell-hole office and things can get back to normal. Or as normal as things ever are here in Brigadoon.”
Chloe considered. “I can agree to that. At this point we’re trying to figure out who Evan was hooking up with, and whether or not the blackmail had anything to do with either his or Luther’s death. I really thought it was Talia he had his sights on, but now that Evan’s dead it doesn’t make sense.” Possibilities began to swirl around in her head once more, but Nate cut her off.
“It wasn’t Talia or Evan who killed Luther. I’m sure of it. He had an alibi, and I could tell from Talia’s reaction that it wasn’t her. I can’t be positive she and Evan weren’t having a relationship, but I can tell you she didn’t kill her husband.”
Nate looked concerned and continued, “We also haven’t found any other evidence that Luther was being blackmailed; we only found notes addressed to Evan. I haven’t been able to pinpoint a solid motive for killing Luther. Maybe this is it.”
His tone was hopeful, not frustrated, as Chloe expected it to be, considering he was being clued in on an important piece of evidence that he hadn’t been able to ferret out himself. But ultimately, Nate was a realist and a good detective. He considered any evidence welcome—regardless of the source—especially around the mid-point of a seemingly dead-end investigation.
“We can’t rule out the possibility that he did receive other threatening letters. This one certainly makes it sound like the extortion was ongoing. Maybe he hid them somewhere.” Chloe suggested.
She handed Nate the blackmail note addressed to Luther and within minutes was duplicating the entire Plunkett file page by page on an old dinosaur photocopier Nate inherited when the municipal office purchased a newer model. Placing the lot in a shiny new brown folder Chloe vowed to text EV as soon as she left the office.
Chapter
23
EV’s small dining room looked like a serial killer’s bedroom with crime scene photos plastered to the walls, and files spread out over the table. A white board was stationed at one end of the room, covered in various notes and speculations; the only thing missing was tack-covered map criss-crossed with string to indicate the killer’s movements.
Both EV and Chloe were poised over copies of the blackmail notes found in Evan and Luther’s belongings. It certainly looked as though someone, tired of their subterfuge, had decided to cash in on whatever misdeeds the men thought were long buried. Intending to study every detail of the police file and attempt to fill in the blanks, they were meticulously re-reading the notes for at least the 20th time. In all the passing back and forth, the documents had gotten shuffled out of order.
“Let’s lay them out in order, and separate everything according to whether it corresponds with Luther or Evan.” EV suggested. Another five minutes of staring and a look of understanding crossed her face.
“Do you see what I see?” EV asked Chloe with a raise of her brow.
“There’s something off. What is it?”
“It’s the handwriting. The wording is similar, but look at the way the A’s are off-center with a diagonal slash in Luther’s notes.”
“The S’s are different too; there’s more flourish on the Evan notes. What do you think this means? A blackmailer with some type of alternate personality disorder? Two different blackmailers; one forging the notes from the other? Or, only one blackmailer, and someone trying to make it look like two?” Chloe sighed and followed the logical conclusion. “And then, if only one brother was actually being blackmailed, which one was it?”
Noticing that both coffee cups were empty, the two migrated into the kitchen for a refill. Chloe hopped up to sit on her favorite corner of EV’s counter top.
“There’s a solid argument for either of them being the actual target. Evan’s life was filled with nothing but dark corners, but Luther swindled a lot of people out of money. It’s possible someone wanted to get back what was rightfully theirs. Plus, they were both in on the proposal to the town board, even if Luther was the one to broach the subject.”
“We can’t rule out the fact that Luther may have received more notes. And I think it’s a safe bet to say that whoever wrote the fake notes has to be the killer. Which means at least one of the deaths isn’t about the blackmail at all; it’s about something else. But what else connects them besides their asinine plan to merge with Gilmore, and the fact that they’re brothers?”
“Well, we’ve already ruled out anything to do with Talia. Because she wouldn’t kill Luther so she could be with Evan, and then turn around and kill him, too. That’s just stupid.” EV nodded her agreement.
“But, I saw her with Evan; that scarf has to be the only one of its kind in Ponderosa Pines. Unless I misread the situation.” Chloe stared into space, recalling the moment she laid eyes on Evan and the mystery woman. “Even Nate will tell you that conversation they were having at Mama Nancy’s was intimate. Not a brotherly bit of condolence, either. They were giving off the we’re-getting-ready-to-do-it vibe.” She shuddered at the thought.
“We’re missing something.” EV began pacing the floor, walking all the way around the kitchen island, turning on her heel and walking back the other way. “Unless Evan killed Luther, and Talia killed Evan out of revenge, all of this adds up to a dead end.”
“Do you think we should confront Talia? See if we can pry something out of her about her relationship with Evan? If they were doing the nasty, she might be the key to everything. Plus, she’s always so fidgety. It makes me suspicious.”
“I don’t know. Talia’s always been that way; she has a lot of nervous energy. What’s more, if we confront her, it will tip our hand. Give it a day or so; something will come through the grapevine, it always does. What about your digital gossip channel? Any gems of info we can mine?”
“It’s been suspiciously quiet with the bits and bytes lately.”
“I’ve had fewer sources myself since I landed on the hot seat as suspect number one.” Bitterness crept into her tone, “I’m learning a lot about my ‘true friends’. Like which ones have been tearing me down behind closed doors because they think I won’t find out.”
Chapter 24
Somewhere in the background, Chloe could hear a bell ringing. She bolted upright and searched all around through half-closed lids, trying to figure out what was making the blasted noise, while simultaneously blocking the sun from boring a hole through her eye sockets. She tried swiping across her cell phone screen, then moved on to the digital alarm clock resting on her night stand.
After pressing each button several times, she resorted to yanking the cord out of the wall socket with a violent jerk. When the shrieking ended, Chloe fell back onto her pillow and heaved a sigh. Her plan to get up early and bang out this week’s column had seemed like a good idea when she set the alarm last night. If it hadn’t been for the fact that her best friend’s name was being dragged through the mud she would have happily snuggled in for a few more hours’ sleep.
The scent of fresh coffee curled around her nose and pulled the corners of her mouth up into a smile. Chloe gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for having the foresight to set the timer along with her alarm clock the night before. A few moments later, she settled herself onto a kitchen bar stool with a steaming cup of dark roast and a bowl of Greek yogurt topped with honey.
She ran the tip of her tongue through a layer of creamy yogurt until it met the resistance of thick, smooth honey, enjoying the juxtaposition of two dissimilar, but pleasantly compatible, sensations. When she had licked the last spoonful clean and rinsed her bowl, Chloe headed upstairs to get to work.
Too many emails were waiting in the Cone’s inbox, and Chloe sifted through several before she noticed the one from Technical Support. The tip line voicemail box was finally working again; since she hadn’t been able to access the messages for close to three weeks, it was sure to be a long and interesting morning.
Chloe opened the bottom drawer of her desk, pulled out an old brick-red lock box, and removed a thick leather-bound ledger from inside. The phrase Busybody Central had been stamped across the front cover, and Chloe could hear Wesley’s sing-song voice answering the Cone’s dedicated line with the same phrase. She transcribed every tip received that day, as she always did, including as many details as possible in case she needed to refer back at a later date.
The first two messages were obviously from either Justice or Mercy Walker, who had tried but failed to disguise an unpleasant, nasal whine. Both messages were aimed at implicating EV in Luther and Evan’s murders, but as they stated only suspicion and absolutely zero details she could follow up on, Chloe pressed 7 to delete them.
She was nearing the end of her patience for nonsense when something about the next caller’s voice caught her attention. A whispering voice that Chloe recognized as female stated simply: “Mr. Worth’s word isn’t worth much. I know for a fact he was catting around near the church on the night Luther Plunkett died.”
While it wasn’t a terribly detailed message, the fact that a name besides EV’s was being thrown out as a possible suspect came as a welcome change. Chloe added Ashton to her list of names for investigation, saved the message in case she needed it later, and continued through the voicemails until all were either archived or permanently deleted.
Flipping through the ledger before putting it back into its box, Chloe recalled her first week at the Pine Cone. Wesley had given her this book, and sent her to his attic library to read old editions of the newsletter. After a solid seven days of finding Chloe curled up there in the morning, sound asleep with her nose in a pile of papers, Wesley insisted she go home and write her own column. It had been, for the most part, smooth sailing since then. But writing about actual murder was a lot different from reporting that Mavis Cooter had been given an unfortunate eyebrow wax at the Hootchie Cootchie Salon.
&
nbsp; It wasn’t long before Chloe was tapping away at the keyboard, funneling her frustration into her column.
Hey, Piniacs, are you ready to dish? Which town matriarch is being put through the ringer by her own friends and neighbors? And, what pair of viscous sisters tried to implicate her via the Pine Cone’s automated tip line? Maybe it’s time to bark up a different tree, people!
On a lighter note, which bespectacled farmer found a couple of randy teenagers necking in his hayloft last Friday night? Parents, do you know where your children are?
Could a certain pair of twins be on the outs? Word has it the two were spotted, suspiciously wearing differing outfits for the first time in…forever! What could split the gruesome twosome in half? I have a theory—I just hope someone warns the poor guy before it’s too late.
And last but not least, ladies, how happy are you that Inspector Hottie is back in town? Will you sleep easier knowing he’s watching over you, or will the thought just keep you up at night?
Chapter 25
“Ow,” Chloe sucked her thumb where a cucumber spine had jabbed into it. She scrunched up her nose and winged the soon-to-be-pickle into the basket at her feet with force. “You bring another pair of those gloves? These things bite hard.”
“Over there with my water bottles.” EV nodded and kept on picking.
“Remind me again why we volunteered to spend half a day bent over harvesting cucumbers when it’s hotter than a picnic in hell?”
“We,” EV emphasized, “volunteered because YOU are addicted to pickles. You got that from your mother. She never met a gherkin she didn’t like.”
Cat Killed A Rat (Ponderosa Pines Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) Page 13