Thrill Squeaker: A Squeaky Clean Mystery (Squeaky Clean Mysteries Book 11)

by Christy Barritt

  I had to figure some things out. I’d been living in fear since I got here—in more than one way. I wasn’t just fearing this theme park, but I was fearing my future in general. I had to stop. Because living in fear wasn’t really living at all.

  Life involved taking risks. Taking chances. Experiencing loss and grief. Love and amazing moments. It was a package deal, one that no one was immune to.

  I had to learn how to face this head on. To put my fears behind me. To really start living again, and to stop playing it so safe all the time.

  Riley appeared at the back door a few minutes later. He slowly pushed it open and gave me a glance that clearly communicated, “Is this okay?” When I nodded, he stepped out and sat in the chair beside me.

  “We make a good team, don’t we?” I mused aloud.

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think we do. Always. In the past. In the present. In the future.”

  My cheeks heated. He really had been so dedicated since he’d moved back. It wasn’t that he wasn’t dedicated before. It was just that, after almost losing his life, I think he’d learned what he really wanted in his future and realized life was too short not to go after those things.

  Soon, and very soon, we were going to have to have a long talk.

  “What are you thinking about?” Riley asked.

  Did I even want to go there with him about our relationship? Not now, I decided. There were other more pressing matters. “I’m trying to think this whole murder through.”

  “Talk it out with me then.”

  I shifted, still not used to Riley being supportive of my investigations. I wasn’t complaining, though.

  “Okay, first there’s Junior. He was very angry today. He wants to make his dad proud. I think he’d like nothing more than to secure the deal on the land and show his dad he’s capable of taking over the family business.”

  “But would he kill for that?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. But I don’t buy that he just wants this property for no reason. There’s something more there. You suggested a natural resource of some sort. That could be the case. But I’d think the man would be more apt to sneak here and try to steal something than to kill over it.”

  “He could very well have motive, means, and opportunity.”

  “I agree. I also recognized Marion’s husband, Duke, on the video surveillance from last night.” I replayed to Riley what had happened earlier.

  “That’s . . . kind of strange.” Riley shifted and leaned back in the ratty camping chair.

  “I agree. But people are obsessed with Bigfoot.”

  “But why would he kill? That’s the big question, isn’t it? Who has the motive for that?”

  I lowered my voice. “Then there’s Nate.”

  “You really think he has motive?”

  I licked my lips, uncomfortable with having this conversation with Nate just inside, within easy listening distance. I looked behind me and to the sides, but didn’t see anyone. “He’s desperate for publicity. Maybe he thinks another murder, just like the one committed here all of those years ago, would bring a weird fascination with people.”

  Riley twisted his head, not looking convinced. “That’s extreme.”

  “But remember Freddy Mansfield, that guy who was obsessed with serial killers. There are people out there who get a kick out of stuff like this. Or what about Jack the Ripper? Tourists come in droves to visit his old haunting grounds in London—and by haunting grounds I mean the sites of his murders. There’s a market for the macabre.”

  “You have to remember that Nate was with us when Franz was attacked.”

  “He could be working with someone.”

  Someone knocked on the door before joining us. I glanced back and spotted Chad. Just as he stepped out, I heard the front door open and voices drift from that direction. The gang had split up, it appeared.

  Chad cringed as he started to lower himself on the porch.

  “Here, take my seat.” Riley jumped up.

  “No, I’m okay.” Chad grimaced. “I’ve got to push through this, so please don’t do me any favors.”

  “Be careful or you’ll do more damage to your ankle than you already have.” I gave him a motherly look.

  “Yeah, yeah. You sound like Sierra.”

  “Speaking of Sierra, how are she and Reef doing?” I missed my best friend, and I missed my godson.

  “Reef is feeling better. They’re talking about coming on Saturday.”

  “Saturday? Doesn’t she have to be at work on Monday?”

  “She’s going to bring her work with her. That’s the nice part of being the boss, I suppose. She’s been working at home a lot more lately.”

  “At least she can. Childcare isn’t cheap.”

  “She doesn’t want to leave him with a sitter. I can’t blame her. Before you know it, she’s going to want to stay home.”

  “Are you opposed to that?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “No, not really. You gotta do what you gotta do. I just want everyone to be happy, and I want what’s best for Reef.”

  I could read between the lines: It was a complicated issue.

  “So, there’s been some creepy stuff here, huh? I haven’t had a chance to talk with the two of you about things. Clarice and Nate just went for a walk, and Braxton decided to go into town for some fun, so here I am.”

  “Listen, Chad, I’m not trying to put you in an awkward position,” I started. “But I had to tell the police what was going on.”

  “I understand. You did the right thing.” Chad shook his head. “I just can’t believe Nate went through all these hoops just to make it look like Bigfoot was roaming these woods. He’s always been a little on the crazy and wild side, but I think he took it too far.”

  “How well do you really know Nate, Chad?” Riley asked, using a diplomatic voice that I admired. I tried to be diplomatic, but it rarely ever worked.

  “We were both whitewater rafting guides for a summer. That next winter, we worked the slopes. We worked together one more summer, and then we parted ways.”

  “How long had it been since you spoke to him before this job?”

  Chad shrugged and looked off into the distance. “Probably three years.”

  “And he called you out of the blue one day?” I asked.

  “Now that you mention it, maybe it was a little weird. But, yeah, he called me out of the blue. Said he heard about my business and thought I’d be perfect for this job.”

  “How did he hear about the business if you hadn’t spoken?”

  “You know, I don’t know. I just assumed it was from mutual friends or something. Maybe from social media. I set up a couple of pages, but never really did anything with them.” He shifted. “You think that’s got something to do with this?”

  I shrugged. “I’m just trying to look at all the angles.”

  But deep down inside I had to ask: What if there was someone I was missing altogether?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  T he next morning, all I could think was: the show must go on.

  Despite everything that had happened, we still had a job to do. For that reason, Chad worked with the HVAC crew while the rest of the gang finished hanging doors, replacing baseboards, and installing new light-switch covers.

  Nate wanted to open this place up in three weeks. The control freak part of me kept dwelling on the fact that taking reservations this early seemed like a big mistake. But, like I’d consistently told myself: it wasn’t my call. It wasn’t my responsibility. And, if it failed, it wouldn’t be my problem.

  I was headed back up to Area 51 when I spotted just the person I was hoping to run into: Bill Brunke. I had a few more questions for him. He seemed like just the objective source I was looking for.

  “Hey, there,” I said, glancing at the path.

  The Brunke brothers had poured new cement in the areas that had been broken by tree roots and age. The new trail looked smooth and level—just what this place needed to avoid a l
awsuit. Despite the fact that they were pouring cement, the landscaping crew still looked dirty. The thought mildly amused me. How was it possible that they always looked like they’d been digging in the dirt?

  “How’s everything going here?” I asked.

  “Great. We should be finished up with this later on today. Nate said he might want some more help putting up fences around hazardous areas. This place is on the road to opening soon. I know that’s gotta make Nate happy.”

  I shifted, trying not to seem too obvious with my questions. That, however, was not one of my talents. “Listen, the other day when I ran into you guys on Main Street, one of your brothers said something about staying up late. What was that all about?”

  He wiped his sweaty forehead on his sleeve as his brothers continued to smooth the cement in the background. “Will, take over for a minute, would you?”

  One of the brothers—not Grumpy or Happy—nodded and continued to work. As he did, Bill motioned for me to step away. “Truth is that we’re helping Nate plan an opening weekend extravaganza.”

  “What?” Of all the things I’d expected, that wasn’t one of them.

  Bill nodded. “Truth is that we used to be one of the acts here. My brothers and I were vaudevillians—hence our name today. First, we got laid off from Mythical Falls. Then we started working at the mines and lost our jobs there also. We’ve had a bad run of luck. Anyway, we’ve kept in touch with a lot of the other performers. Nate wants me to bring them back for a big kickoff, but it was supposed to be a surprise. That’s why I hushed everyone.”

  That was their big secret. I let out a breath, relieved it was something so simple.

  “So a lot of performers are still around here, huh?”

  “Yup. You might be shocked.”

  His words caught my attention. “Like who?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Seamus, for example.”

  “Seamus was an act? But he was young when it closed down.”

  Bill nodded again. “Yup. That’s true. But he was old enough to wear a pair of stilts and wow the audience. I think his dad put him up to it. It’s probably why he’s not afraid of heights today and can work on roofs all the time.”

  Stilts, huh? I imagined Seamus on stilts in a Bigfoot costume, but that was probably too much of a stretch. Certainly I would have noticed Bigfoot walking strangely that day we chased him through the woods.

  “How’s the big party coming?” I asked.

  “Pretty good. My family goes way back in this area, so we’ve got a lot of pride in Mythical Falls.”

  I reached into my sweatshirt pocket and found the rock from the gemstone mining. I began tossing it in the air as I talked, hoping the action would make me look laidback. “How well do you know Nate?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve known him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper.”

  “You support him reopening this park, huh?”

  He shrugged again. “I suppose he’ll be better at this than he is at finance. I heard he even had to change offices once because no one in the previous town where he worked trusted him with their money.”

  “Is that right? Isn’t that interesting.” Funny that Nate hadn’t brought that up either. He seemed to like keeping a lot of secrets, and he had the uncanny ability to put a great spin on his life circumstances and decisions.

  “It is. Of course, his dad wasn’t that great either. It’s no wonder Nate wants to open this place. Who wants to do a job they’re terrible at?”

  “I’m inclined to agree. What about Scotty Junior? Do you know much about him?”

  Bill stared at me for a moment as I tossed my rock. “Are you looking into the murders here? Is what the news said true about you being a female Sherlock?”

  I shrugged. “I am an investigator, and I have been asked to help find the person responsible. Nate can’t open with a killer on the loose.”

  “No, he can’t. My wife will hardly go to bed at night. She checks the windows and doors three times, afraid the Bigfoot Strangler will get her too.” He shook his head, the lines on his face deepening.

  “I heard Nate and Scotty Junior hate each other,” Grumpy called.

  I turned my attention to him. “Oh, did you?”

  He paused from using a screeding tool to flatten and smooth the cement. “That’s right. They can’t stand each other. Nate and Junior faced off in a local poker game. Nate won. Junior never forgave him.”

  “My wife works at the pharmacy.” Happy stopped working and looked up at us. Apparently, everyone around here had a theory. “She said Junior is on an awful lot of medications. She’d kill me if she heard me saying this, but she thinks he’s a little crazy. Anyone would be after growing up with Scotty Stephens as a father.”

  “Any other rumors floating out there?” I glanced at all the brothers. None of them bothered to hide the fact that they were listening to the conversation. They had no shame.

  And people said women were gossips.

  “I heard Scotty Stephens was back in town but remaining on the down low,” Sneezy said. At least, I thought it was Sneezy. He wasn’t actually sneezing at the moment, but his nose was red.

  My eyes widened with surprise. “Really?”

  He nodded. “My wife’s friend’s cousin cleans his house. She said she saw receipts dated this week.”

  Curiosity spiked in me. “Why would he keep his presence here a secret?”

  “Maybe if he thinks he has an alibi, then people won’t look at him as a suspect.” Bill pointed to the path. “That’s gonna dry on us. Keeping working it.”

  “But you know who I’ve always wondered about?” Grumpy asked, obviously close enough to listen. “Seamus.”

  “Why Seamus?” These guys were full of theories.

  “He was here when the girl fell off the Ferris wheel.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Read the old news articles. His picture is right there. His parents were interviewed. They had to get the poor kid counseling afterward.”

  “That’s . . . very interesting.” I remembered when I’d seen him going into the bank with a woman at his arm. Was that in any way connected with this? Was there a reason that Nate always had Seamus around, even though he wasn’t that great of a contractor? It was worth looking into.

  My phone rang at that moment. It was nearly a miracle that I was standing in range. I pulled it out and saw the number from the police department.

  “Excuse me a minute, boys. I’ve got a call to take.”

  * * *

  I leaned back against a tree, far away from the Brunke brothers, and I let the phone call with the chief sink in.

  I still couldn’t believe it.

  They found a match to a fingerprint inside the Bigfoot costume.

  It was Duke. Marion’s husband. Apparently, his prints were on file after he was arrested outside of Scotty Stephens’ house during a protest when the mines had closed.

  I wanted to call and break the news to her first, but Chief Abel informed me that he’d already sent men over to question him.

  I couldn’t believe it. He’d seemed so sincere when he told me about why he’d been in the woods. I’d been convinced he was innocent. But what if I was wrong? Why else would his fingerprint be in the Bigfoot costume?

  I’d managed to pull one other print from a gas can. The chief informed me that it belonged to Bill Brunke. However, the landscaper had admitted that he’d stashed some gas used for their lawnmowers in that area, which made sense given their jobs. Bill had suggested that the glove was something someone like Scotty or Scotty Junior would wear.

  Wasting no more time, I grabbed the keys and hurried toward Riley’s car. I needed answers that I wouldn’t get being here on this property. I didn’t know where I was going or who I’d talk to, but I needed to get away from this place. In the meantime, I radioed Riley and let him know what was going on. Riley admonished me to be careful.

  Just as I reached the gate, a sleek silver sports car pulled up.
I braced myself for whoever was inside—it definitely didn’t appear to be the car of one of the contractors.

  A moment later, a brunette stepped out. She was slender, stylish in a gray business suit, and she looked as mad as a hornet.

  This was the woman I’d seen Seamus with, I realized.

  “Are you Gabby St. Claire?” She marched toward me, her finger pointed like she was ready to jab me in the chest.

  I cocked a hand on my hip, realizing she looked vaguely familiar. “I am. And you are?”

  “Debby Stephens.”

  “Junior’s wife,” I muttered. She looked just like the trophy wife I’d expect someone like him to have on his arm. But what were Seamus and Debby Stephens doing together at the bank? The web of intrigue continued to grow, as did my curiosity.

  Her eyes narrowed. “He hates being called that.”

  I knew that already, and it was part of the reason I enjoyed using that version of his name. Why in the world was she here and so upset, though? I crossed my arms and stood by the gate. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can leave my husband alone, that’s what.”

  I blinked, processing her words. “You’re implying that I’ve been messing with him.”

  She wobbled her head, full of attitude that she didn’t even try to hide. “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying: You’re messing with my man, and I don’t like it. You need to step back.”

  I wasn’t one for catfights, but I felt one coming on. Debby’s in-your-face approach was putting me off—big time. At the moment, I wouldn’t mind clawing her eyes out.

  That wasn’t the most Christlike attitude I could have. I knew that. I was working on it.

  “I’m not ‘messing’ with anyone,” I finally said, my teeth partly clenched. “I was merely asking questions.”

  She raised her chin as she narrowed her eyes. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I call it,” I told her matter-of-factly. I had no idea what she was implying, but I didn’t like it. And I didn’t like her. Irritation continued to build inside me.

  “Well, you need to back off.” She jabbed my shoulder.