Blackened marks spread across its palm. It was made of wool or some kind of thick fabric. A winter glove. Big enough for a man.
Certainty dropped into her belly. An iron weight that wouldn’t budge.
She turned around, cupped her free hand to her mouth, and called, “Ames, get that agent guy out here. I just found something.” It ate at her to call the man after he’d reprimanded her mere minutes ago, but she didn’t have a choice in this.
Amy peered around the corner. “What is it?” She ducked and dived to avoid stray droplets.
“Just get him!” Heather yelled back, then turned her focus to the glove, again.
Slowly, but surely, the rain petered off. The noise became the slow pit-pat of separate droplets.
Mud squelched behind her. “What are you doing?” Agent Orchard’s voice carried across the lawn. “I thought I told you to leave.”
She spun and her wet hair did too. A long stream of water sluiced off the end of her umbrella and dropped onto Orchard’s polished agent shoes. His scowl deepened.
“Any reason we’re out here?” He asked He lifted one of those shoes from the muck and examined it.
“Sorry to ruin your Armani’s, agent, but I’ve just found something.” Heather pointed at the glove. Amy would’ve been proud of the line.
Her bestie hovered at the corner, glancing up at the swollen clouds every other second.
“What are you talking about?” Agent Orchard asked, but bent over to examine the glove regardless.
“The victim’s throat was burned when the lights shorted out. The perpetrator must’ve been burned too. Which means, these gloves –”
“Might be evidence,” Orchard hissed, and a tiny hint of awe entered his tone, followed by a dash of respect.
Perhaps, he wasn’t a robot man, after all.
“I think they’re definitely evidence,” Heather replied. “And you should take them –”
“You don’t tell me what to do, Mrs. Shepherd,” Orchard said, and straightened, immediately. “I tell you what to do, ma’am. And right now, you need to leave these premises or I’ll –”
“Yes, I know,” Heather snapped. “You’ll have me thrown in prison. I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” the agent replied, coolly, but didn’t remove his gaze from the glove in the mud.
Heather jabbed her thumb toward it. “Apparently, you do,” she said, and then she turned and squelched back across the lawn, with as much dignity as she could muster.
Chapter 16
“Amy Givens, you’re a lifesaver,” Heather said and shivered in her warm slippers. She’d taken a shower and changed her clothes, back at home, but she still couldn’t shake the cold which had crept into her bones, thanks to her cross-country trek at the Hardbody’s.
Amy handed her a cup of hot chocolate, then lowered herself onto the sofa beside Heather. “I know. It’s to make up for cowering on the porch during the storm.” Her cheeks flushed, and the glitter of Christmas lights reflect off her eyes.
“If you hadn’t cowered, I wouldn’t have found that glove,” Heather said. She checked her watch – thank heavens she hadn’t worn it out today – and sighed. “We’d better get back to Donut Delights. It’s almost time to lock up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Amy replied, and patted Heather on the leg. “I’ve already asked Maricela to lock up for the afternoon.”
Heather smiled at her best friend. “I’d be lost without you,” she said and took a sip of her hot chocolate. The warm, chocolatey goodness slid down her throat and dropped into her belly.
Finally, she warmed from the inside out. Gosh, she’d thought she’d never thaw after that escapade.
Heather studied the Christmas tree, then switched her gaze to the coffee table, and Ryan’s half-open laptop. Light hummed beneath the lid.
He always forgot to turn it off in the evenings. Luckily, he’d left it plugged in this time, so the battery didn’t die. Whenever that happened, he’d spend the next evening muttering about lost work.
He didn’t have anyone else to blame, really.
Heather pushed thoughts of her husband aside and Junior’s image drifted in to replace them.
“What’s up?” Amy asked.
Heather set down her mug on the coffee table and traded it in for Ryan’s laptop. “I just can’t get the case off my mind,” she said. “The gloves. The brothers and their strange mother. None of it adds up. Or it adds up but in a strange way.”
“What do you mean?” Amy asked.
“I’m not sure,” Heather said and opened the laptop all the way. Ryan’s folder popped into view.
He’d been going through the surveillance videos before bed last night, and this morning, he’d been in a rush to get Lilly to school and totally forgotten about the laptop.
“The door to the basement was locked,” Heather said and clicked on one of the video clips. “And the victim had the key. The window pane was broken from the inside. The glove was in the garden across from the door. The mother found the body. The brothers were in a room together.”
“It’s like the case of the invisible murderer,” Amy said and studied the video which played on the screen.
A clip of the two brothers, striding toward Junior’s bedroom together. Heather paused it and stared at them.
“Except someone did murder Victor Hardbody, and there’s no way it was an intruder. Apart from the broken window pane, there wasn’t a hint of forced entry,” Heather said. “No fiddled locks or broken doors. Just a dead body, a string of lights and a burned glove. Why?” She shook her head.
“It seems to me like everyone despised the guy,” Amy said. “The sons and the wife. None of them trusted him.”
“I guess, you’re right. They’re all equal suspects in a way.” Heather frowned at the screen and tapped her bottom lip with her thumb. “The wife was afraid of going broke, so she wanted to launder money. But that wouldn’t be a motivation to kill her husband.”
“And there was only male DNA on the victim, right? The saliva?” Amy asked.
“Yeah, but that could’ve been from anyone Victor encountered during the day. The sample was really degraded,” Heather whispered, and skipped back to the beginning of the clip.
She pressed play, and the brothers paced down the hall together.
“The quality on this is pretty clear,” Amy said.
“HD quality,” Heather replied. “That’s what you get when you’re one of the richest men in Hillside. Much good it did him.” Bitterness twisted her tongue. If only that agent would back off and give her some access to the scene.
Or to the suspect. She’d be able to worm some extra information out of them.
Something glinted on the screen, and Heather refocused her hazy stare on the two youngsters.
The clip played on repeat.
The brother walked down the hall, chatting amicably. They halted in front of Junior’s door. Neither of them had gloves on.
Junior opened his bedroom door and entered. Kenny followed and…
“There!” Heather hissed.
“What? Oh my gosh, you scared the donut outta me,” Amy replied, and pressed her palm to her chest. “Gosh, what is it?”
“Right there,” Heather said and dodged the bar back in the clip. She paused it just as Kenny was about to enter the room. “Look there, in his right hand.”
“What is it?” Amy asked, and squinted at the flash of light on the screen.
“It’s a reflection,” Heather replied, and a cold soup of certainty bubbled in her belly. She picked up the laptop, then slid it onto Amy’s lap. She hopped off the sofa, and the blanket fell to the carpet.
Heather paced to the coffee table and folded her hands behind her back.
“Heather? What is it?” Amy asked, behind her.
“It’s a key,” she replied. “It’s the key to the back door.” She spun and faced her friend, triumph warring with her disgust at the murder. “The brothers
did it,” she said.
“What, both of them?”
“That’s right,” Heather replied. “They climbed out of Junior’s window, after all. They knew their father was in the basement. They unlocked the door and went in, and well, you can surmise the rest by yourself. I won’t delve into the gory details.”
Amy gaped at the screen.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before. I didn’t pay any attention to that darn key because I was sidetracked by the window and the burn marks on the two folks in the house,” Heather said and paced back and forth in front of the Christmas tree.
“But I thought you said the father had the key?”
“He did,” Heather replied. “Because they planted it on him. Wiped it down and planted it, then one of them, I’m going to hazard a guess and say it was Kenny, punched out the window to make it look like someone broke in.”
“This is – are you sure?” Amy asked.
“Positive. I’m going to call Ryan and ask him to double check,” Heather said. “And then, I’m going over there.”
“Heather,” Amy groaned.
“And you’re going to stay with Lilly,” Heather said and checked her watch. “Ryan will drop her off when he fetches me.”
Amy sat back and flopped her arms to either side of her body. “Well,” she said, “we can’t say it’s been a dull Christmas.”
Chapter 17
Heather drummed her heels on the baseboard in Ryan’s cruiser. She hummed a tune under her breath – Silence is Golden by The Tremeloes.
“Calm down, hon, we’ll get there in time,” Ryan said and turned on his indicator.
She’d called him seconds after she’d spied that key, pressed into Kenny’s palm. Ryan had taken the trouble to confirm it was the same key, first, and it was. Luckily, he had a video analyst on call.
The glittering light which decorated the streets of Hillside suburbia did nothing to allay Heather’s fears.
“They might run off,” she said. “We won’t make it in time. Can’t you go a little faster?”
“Heather, darling, I’m going as fast as I can, without endangering our lives. Just relax. We’ve got this. You made the connection in time.”
That was where the nerves sprang from.
She should’ve realized this earlier.
She should’ve connected the dots between the two brothers, their attitudes, their positioning during the death of their father, and that darn camera. Heather clutched her tote bag in her lap and resisted the urge to whip out her tablet and go over her notes for the umpteenth time.
She’d taken screenshots of the video on her tablet.
“Lilly’s with Amy?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah,” Heather said. “Ames is camping out with us until Christmas Day. Eva’s coming over for Christmas Eve tomorrow.” The words were hollow because her focus had attuned to the outcome of the case.
“Good,” Ryan said and took another corner at high speed. His lights flashed overhead, casting strange red and blue colors on the passing homes, each of which had Christmas lights of their own.
Santa Claus waved from a passing front garden. A sleigh, filled with plastic gifts adorned another.
“Just around this corner,” Ryan said.
Heather reached up and grasped the seatbelt strap which cut across her chest.
They turned into the street with mansions instead of homes and cruised toward the Hardbody residence.
Lights flashed ahead, too, but these weren’t the Christmas lights – Victor had never put them up, after all. No, these were red flashing lights atop black cars, windows tinted against the attention of onlookers.
“What the –?” Ryan parked the car a few feet from the red taillights of a black car, its license plate missing.
“What is this?” Heather squished forward in her seat. It squeaked beneath her.
Ryan grumbled underneath his breath and pointed toward the gate at the entrance to the Hardbody mansion.
It stood open, and men and women in uniforms marched in and out.
“The FBI,” Heather said. She rolled down her window and an influx of sound – chatter, footsteps and the scrape of the gates as they swayed in the wind, entered their car.
Agent Orchard charged down the drive, ahead of two other agents, each with one hand on the back of a cuffed Hardbody brother.
Kenny held his head high and glared at the agents around them. “You’ll pay for this,” he yelled. “You’ll all pay. You can’t take a Hardbody away. I won’t go down without a fight.” Judging by his swollen lip, and the blood which dribbled onto his chin, he hadn’t.
Junior didn’t say a word. He hung his head, instead, and that curtain of black hair dropped in front of his eyes.
Agent Orchard escorted them both to separate cars. The doors opened. Each agent pushed his charge into one, and the Hardbody’s disappeared for good.
“How come he gets to make the arrest?” Heather asked. “I thought that whole dark web thing was over?”
“Maybe not,” Ryan said, the sides of his palms balanced atop the steering wheel.
Jennifer Hardbody strode down the drive, her arms behind her back, too. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn’t wipe them away, this time. There wouldn’t be any black handkerchiefs in prison.
Agent Orchard helped her into a vehicle next. Pride shone from him, even as he spotted their cruiser.
“Uh oh,” Ryan said. “Here he comes.”
“It’s not like he’s going to arrest us too,” Heather said.
Ryan scoffed.
Agent Orchard halted beside the cruiser. He leaned his wrists on Heather’s window sill and lowered himself so they could make out his smug expression.
“Arrive just in time for the party, Shepherd,” he said.
“Yeah,” the wife and husband said, in unison.
Agent Orchard looked to the government cars, and his smile disappeared. “Thanks for the tip-off,” he said.
“What tip-off?” Heather asked.
“Detective Shepherd’s analyst came to us after your little meeting,” Orchard said. “Just so happened we had enough to arrest Jennifer on fraud charges. We rounded ‘em all up for you. You should be grateful.”
“Yeah, we should be grateful,” Heather said. They should be. She wasn’t.
But at least, the resolution of the case meant they got to see the back of Orchard.
“Kids, nowadays,” the agent said, and whistled under his breath. “You know why they killed him?”
“Why?” Ryan asked.
Heather already had a suspicion.
“Because he put too much pressure on them to be perfect and do what he wanted them to do. They snapped,” Orchard said. “That’s their story, anyway. We’ll see how it holds up in court.” He rose from the position and gave them a quick salute. “Have a good one.”
He marched off toward a waiting SUV. No, thank you. No Merry Christmas. Nothing.
“I guess that’s it,” Ryan said.
Heather shrugged. “Case closed.”
At least, this time, it’d been an easy resolution. And she could get home and be with her daughter, where she belonged.
Chapter 18
The Christmas tree lights glittered and cast red, green, and blue merriment over the packages and gifts below it.
Lilly sat in front of it, Cupcake on her right side and Dave on the left, eyes wide. The animals sat silent, reverent of the occasion. Lilly’s gaze danced from gift to gift, excitement brimming beneath her skin. She positively glowed.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “They’re so beautiful. There are so many!”
“Merry Christmas everyone,” Amy said, and bustled through the doorway, one arm around Eva’s shoulders and the other hand free to clutch a tray of Christmas Donuts. “It’s time to have a jolly old celebration.”
“Why old?” Eva asked, and skewered Amy with a mock-angry stare.
Amy offered Eva a donut. “I come in peace
.”
“Are we ready?” Ryan asked, and shifted in his fluffy red slippers.
Heather sat beside him and slipped her arm through his. “Absolutely. Lilly, you do the honors and hand out the gifts.”
Lilly shrieked and clapped her hands. She grasped the package closest to her. “This one is to me, yay! From mom and dad. Thank you!” She tore back the paper and a thick box fell out. She lifted it, a frown on her face, and examined the outside.
The frown transformed into shock, and then a squeal of delight. “The complete set of Jurassic Park movies!” She hopped up. Dave barked and jumped up with her.
“It’s even got the newest one, with it,” Heather said. “The Jurassic World one.”
“Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen that one yet,” Lilly replied, and launched herself at them. She slung her arms around both Ryan and Heather’s necks and pulled them into a massive hug. “Thank you so much!”
“It’s our pleasure,” Ryan said and patted her on the back.
Lilly finally detached and stumbled back to the Christmas tree, delight radiating from her eyes. “Okay,” she said and put down her first gift. “Next one. Oh, this ones to me as well. No, wait, let’s do one to mom, from dad.”
She handed Heather a small white box, tied up neatly with a red bow.
“Thanks, love,” Heather said and accepted it.
Ryan planted a kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
Amy clapped her hands once. “Oh this is going to be awesome,” she whispered.
Eva nodded and munched on her Christmas donut.
“What is it? You’re all in on this?” Heather asked.
“Open it! Open it!” Lilly clapped her hands, then picked up the set of DVDs and hugged it to her chest.
Heather tugged at the ends of the bow, and the ribbon slipped free of the box. It tumbled to her lap in a long, satin line. She lifted the white cardboard lid and peered inside.
A miniature red, velvet pillow sat inside it, and on top of that… “A key?” Her mind flashed back to the case, but she dismissed the thought immediately. She picked up the key, capped in black plastic, and examined the insignia on the back.
A golden flattened cross.
Christmas Donut Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 31 Page 6