by Molly Dox
“You’re parked a little crazy there in the middle of the road,” he said. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m on the side of the road,” she rebutted. Okay, so partially on the shoulder, maybe blocking half a lane. It’s not like much traffic was around.
“I know you’re having a rough time of it, but you’re not doing yourself any favors to keep drawing attention to yourself.” He leaned down against her doorframe.
Annie could smell a touch of his cologne. Now was not the time to fawn over the guy who was harassing her. Okay, so maybe it was a little crush, but he was a cop for goodness sake, and trying to take her in for murder. She should hate the sight of him, but he was so good to look at, even now. Reality snapped her back to the present.
“I know you’re doing your job, officer. It’s just, I didn’t do anything wrong and the anxiety is starting to get to me, thinking I’ll be charged for a crime I didn’t commit. I just got overwhelmed and had to pull over.” She sighed. There was no point in trying to hide anything. “I just overheard something that upset me, and there’s not a single thing I can do about it.”
“I understand you’re under a lot of stress, but please be more cautious driving. You wouldn’t want to cause an accident. It would just add more trouble to your situation.” He gave her a nod and a warning. “Please be more careful.”
“Yes, sir.” She waited for him to go back to his car after he left her with a warning. Annie’s chest tightened up and her breathing choked off. She forced herself to expel the air that was now trapped in her lungs and started her car again. Something had to give. She couldn’t keep up this way. The only reason they didn’t hold her longer was that they didn’t think she was a flight risk, but what if they thought she was? Her freedom would vanish just like that.
All she could do was wait. Wait and see what they found on the glove. In the meantime, she needed to figure out what was going on between Trish and Greg. She knew about their fling, but was it more than that? And the money, was it about the insurance? Were Trish and Greg in on this together? What now? And if not the two of them, who else could have done it….and why?
Chapter 11
When the news came, Annie broke down. They’d lifted prints from both the outside of the glove and the inside. Hers were on the outside, but not on the inside. It didn’t free her yet, but if they could tie the glove to a break-in of some sort, and if it matched the vial of poison, and if…there were too many ways this could end up. There was no forced entry into the building, which was another stumbling block.
The bad news came next. While they lifted prints on the inside of the glove, because the glove was found outside the building, they didn’t feel it was evidence that linked with the case. Also, they only got partial prints from inside. Somebody was obviously trying to tamper with their prints. It was as if they’d worn tape over their fingertips to try to hide them. Only a piece or two must have slid off and left behind partial prints. Being partial, they weren’t sure if they’d be able to get a full match. It raised suspicion, but if they didn’t find prints inside of the building, there wasn’t a case against anybody else.
They wouldn’t give out any further details on the prints except for saying they found partial prints. They held Alex off until they had more concrete information.
Alex didn’t know. Annie didn’t know. Only the police knew and they weren’t ready to say anything. They weren’t even sure if it was connected to the crime. They kept the glove locked up as evidence in case something tied it in, but for now, because it was found outside the building, they didn’t see it as a key piece of evidence. They’d go back and dust the area to see if the prints showed up inside at all. There was no use in pointing fingers at somebody who never entered the shop.
Annie couldn’t stop thinking about Trish and Greg. On arriving home, she let Pip out and washed her hands. Lost in thought, she lathered the soap again and again. Pip’s yelp caught her attention.
Slamming the faucet down, she ran outside. “What’s going on?” She spun around looking for her little dog. The pup cried out again. Annie ran to the sound. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Pip had cornered a cat that had gotten into their small fenced yard. The cat hissed, with his back arched high and his claws out. “Leave the pussycat alone,” she said. “Come on, let’s let him out of the yard safely.” Pip barked gleefully, then growled and yipped.
“Pip! Come on, let’s go inside.” Pip looked at Annie, torn between what she was being told to do and what she wanted, a piece of the cat. Annie scooped her off the ground and took the dog’s choice away. “Go on, kitty. Scat!” Annie said, stomping her foot on the ground, hoping it was enough to get the cat to leave. Instead, the cat strolled back and forth and taunted the small dog with the fact that it was still in the yard.
Pip whined and squirmed. “We’re going inside,” Annie exclaimed and turned with the pup. It took a while for Pip to stop standing at the back door. She desperately wanted to corner the cat again, but after enough pacing, she finally settled down.
So, if there’s insurance money, would that be the money Trish was talking about? And what about Greg? How did he figure into this? It was his mother? Were they working together? Did they kill Patsy? The poison in the salon…Trish had access to the back room and was the one to actually color Patsy’s hair, but wouldn’t it have burned her scalp if it had absorbed through her skin? Wouldn’t Patsy have complained? She complained about everything. She wasn’t the type to sit silently and suffer. It couldn’t have bothered her, or she would have said something.
And if Trish did it, why? Was it about the money? Did Greg offer her money? Was Greg in love with her? Annie stood and paced, going over endless possibilities.
And if it wasn’t one of them, who else could have done it? Patsy’s lover seemed like a possibility at first, but he was a leach, just letting her pay his bills. With her dead there was no money, so it didn’t pay for him to take her out. Who else, who else?
And at the bar, everything seemed fine until she dropped. Greg seemed shocked that she fell and had a heart attack, or what everybody thought was a heart attack. It didn’t seem like he was faking his grief, but maybe he was. Then again, there were still other people around that she still couldn’t remember. What if one of those people, or someone she didn’t even know was responsible? It’s not like she had access to Patsy’s inner world. She didn’t even know the woman had a lover!
Annie settled onto the sofa with a pen and paper after pacing so much she could have worn a hole through the carpet. She jotted down everything she could think of, every person she knew on the island, and questions that she knew would keep her up at night. It’s not like she’d been sleeping well of late, anyway.
Mrs. Bushmiller had shown up multiple times; always watching things going on, coming into the shop, and then calling the cops on her when she was trying to break into her shop. Did Mrs. Bushmiller have something to hide? There was only one way to find out. She didn’t know if she’d talk, but Annie needed to try.
When Annie showed up at her door, Mrs. Bushmiller was none too happy. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you. I know what you think, but I didn’t do it. I’m trying to learn more about Patsy to see if there’s somebody that might have been overlooked. Would you at least tell me what you know about her?”
Mrs. Bushmiller looked away. “And if I don’t, are you going to take me out too?”
“Please, you know me. Think about this. I’m not a killer. Please, is there anything you can tell me about the woman?” Annie pleaded with her.
“Woman is putting it too nicely. She was nothing but a harlot. She ruined my marriage with her love child.” Her tone turned icy. “My Harold was everything to me, but once she got her claws into him, well, that was the end for us. There’s no way I’d keep a cheating husband around.”
“And Harold?” Annie asked. And who was the love child? Was she talking about Greg?
“He passe
d about five years ago. Last I heard he’d moved off the island. I only learned about his passing because he’d never changed his emergency contact information or insurance policies. At least he left me enough to cover my expenses. He owed me that. I gave him years of my life.” Mrs. Bushmiller sulked.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Annie juggled the new information around in her mind. “Is there anything else?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel right talking to you about this stuff. You seem like a nice enough girl, but now you’re wanted for murder. Those things don’t mesh well in my world. You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, before shutting the door.
Chapter 12
Charlotte made her way over to Annie’s house to console her friend. Things weren’t looking good, and she didn’t know how much more time she’d have with her. Annie’s heart was breaking at the thought of being accused of something she didn’t do and the real possibility that the murder would be pinned on her due to an inadequate investigation. Something had to give.
And then it did.
Alex called to give her the news. They were able to take their partial fingerprint and find a match. They wouldn’t reveal who it belonged to at this time, but would be speaking to the person. It apparently wasn’t a landscaper’s glove, a cleaner’s glove, or a local painter’s glove, but it was the glove of somebody who has no reason to leave a glove outside Annie’s Beachside Beauty shop.
Annie hung up the phone and turned to Charlotte. “There’s a break in the case.” Her entire body shivered with excitement at the chance that they’d find out who committed the crime. This might be exactly what they needed.
Charlotte was relieved that there was hope. “I hope they move quickly. You’ve been under enough stress with this mess. Did he say anything else?”
“No,” she said, then casually mentioned, “unless you count his usual finishing clause, ‘stay out of trouble’. He doesn’t seem to get that my life is on the line. How can I not get involved?”
“Uh oh, what are you thinking? Sweetie, maybe it’s time to let the police do their job.” Charlotte sensed Annie’s mind clicking.
“Char, what if they don’t? What if the person they question has some lame excuse? And who was it?” Annie knew she wouldn’t rest until the case was solved.
“You should ask Officer Rossi on a date and quiz him,” she rationalized.
“Oh sure, our local hot police officer would love to go out on a date with a murder suspect. Let’s think of something that might actually work,” Annie said, feeling stress slide from her shoulders. Maybe there was hope after all.
“It was worth a shot. You two would make a cute couple.” Charlotte couldn’t help mentioning that part.
“Stop trying to set me up,” Annie laughed. “Yes, he’s adorable, handsome, sexy, but I’m not interested in dating at this time. Maybe some other time when I’m not implicated in some horrendous crime.”
Charlotte changed the topic. “So, my daughter called last night. She wants to send me brochures. She said she found a lovely facility, and don’t worry Mom, there are seniors of all ages there living an active lifestyle.”
“Not again,” Annie groaned.
“I finally stopped telling her to leave me alone. ‘Sure, send them over,’ I said, trying to get her to shut up over the entire thing. I have no intention of reading them, but if she wants to waste her time sending them to me, so be it. Maybe if she thinks I’ll consider it, she’ll get off my back. Doesn’t she have enough to keep her busy out there? She’s always hovering over me like I’m some frail bird.”
“She loves you. She just happens to live across the country and this is her way of getting you closer,” Annie suggested.
“Closer? Invite me to your home, not some feeble-assisted living place for people who can’t feed themselves. Fine, fine, maybe there are some active people, but when you start getting older, being around a lot of old people can be depressing. All they talk about is their latest doctor’s appointment or what new medicine they’re taking. Ah yes, and reminiscing about the past, as if the present is gone.” Charlotte growled, “I’m a vibrant woman still, stop trying to push me into a box!”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Annie teased. “No sense in holding back.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off. I mean, my problems are small compared to what you’re going through, but they simply will not drop the topic. Let’s get back to your stuff. Who do you think the glove belonged to?”
“I’m not sure, but Trish and Greg were acting weird. I think they’re hiding more information than they are letting on. If they aren’t the ones who did it, they know who did. The question is, how to get them to confess? Of course, I could be barking up the wrong tree completely. The other person who keeps popping up is Mrs. Bushmiller. Who wanted Patsy dead, and why?”
Charlotte noodled on the information. “Okay, so let’s put the three of them at the top of the list. What else do we know about Mrs. Bushmiller? You said she keeps showing up.”
“Not much. She’s a year-round islander. All I know about her is she’s sort of like her own dedicated neighborhood watch. She’s always peeping out that window, and she mentioned her dog barking in the middle of the night. That was right before I found the glove. So maybe she knows more and isn’t saying anything, or maybe she planted that piece of information so I’d grab onto it. I don’t know. I just don’t think she has much motive. I mean, she did mention Patsy broke up her marriage, but said it was years ago. I think if she was going to do something, she wouldn’t wait some odd thirty years or so.”
“Right,” Charlotte replied. “Who else would have a motive? Let’s look at some basic motives. Money, revenge, and maybe jealousy? What else?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got to think on it. It’s all moving so fast.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Charlotte worried about her friend. She had been through so much already.
“I hope so.” Annie lifted her legs up on the sofa, pulling her knees into her chest.
“Okay, so let’s look at money, revenge, and jealousy. Who would have a reason to be jealous? The woman was eighty years old. And nobody really knew about her lover. Did you? I certainly didn’t. They kept that on the down-low. I just can’t really see jealousy figuring in here. What about you?”
“I don’t think so. Was she on a board somewhere, where some pettiness could have gotten involved? I don’t know those kinds of details about her unless she complained about it while at the shop. I’d say let’s rule out jealousy for now.”
“I agree. What about revenge? She was hardly a friendly soul. That one I could see being a possibility. She was bitter more than she was anything else. It’s like she had her own personal storm cloud that followed her around.”
“True, but without knowing who she interacted with daily, it’s hard to know who would want her dead. It’s still so hard to believe.” Annie sighed, afraid they’d never figure it out.
“Which leaves us money. Insurance money. She was loaded,” Charlotte pointed out.
“I’m guessing her son was her only heir. Unless there was another child or something we don’t know about. She never talked about anyone else.” Annie closed her eyes to think back. Nope, she’d never mentioned men in her presence. “Greg seemed pretty well taken care of. I don’t think he’d need more money than he already had. He lived with her, and I’m pretty sure she had enough for both of them. Though he still did have a job. Maybe he wanted more money than she was giving him.”
“But if he was her only heir… Maybe they had a big fight, and he’d had enough. Or maybe he was just wishing he wasn’t under her thumb anymore.” Charlotte was reaching for straws. She obviously didn’t know enough about their relationship to draw any conclusions.
“I overheard Trish and Greg talking about money. What if she put him up to it? What if she wanted a piece of the pie?” Annie was trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle, and kept getting stuck.
&
nbsp; Charlotte didn’t expect that. “How does she have anything to do with this?”
“She’s having an affair with him. She’s trying to keep it on the down-low.” Annie said, feeling bad she’d given away Trish’s secret.
“Ohhh,” Charlotte said. Maybe she did it, thinking she’d get a piece of the action if Greg collected. “Let’s go talk to them.”
“They don’t want to talk to me. I tried. They know I’m scrambling to find answers.” Annie blushed, not having admitted that part to Charlotte yet.
“Right now, they’re looking pretty fishy, if you ask me. There’s motive, with money.” Charlotte’s brain was ticking. “And you should have told me. I would have gone with you.”
“But no proof. And let’s be honest, killing her is a little extreme, don’t you think? Maybe we’re getting away from ourselves here. Maybe there’s somebody else that we just don’t know about.” Annie was at her wit’s end. It was so hard not knowing, and yet she was the one whose life was dangling precariously.
“Let’s go visit Greg at work,” Charlotte suggested.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Char. I think I’m finally just going to let the cops do their job. I’m starting to feel defeated.” Annie heart sank lower in her chest.
“Oh no you don’t. Who will I gossip with? Who will I complain to? I am not above visiting you in prison if you did it, but you didn’t kill the woman. We’re getting you out of this situation.” Charlotte tried to lift up Annie, bolstering her to find some inner strength.
Annie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay,” she said before standing. “Let me let Pip out before we leave.”
Opening the door, Annie screamed.
The cat hissed and darted across the yard. It had been sleeping against the back door and when Annie opened it, the cat jumped and hissed. Annie placed her hand on her chest and caught her breath. That darn cat kept coming back. Pip snuck out between Annie’s legs and the chase was on. Pip almost nipping the cat, but the cat springing to the top of the fence and scrambling up a tree before the small dog could catch it.