Path to Nowhere (A Shady Acres Mystery Book 2)

by Cynthia Hickey

  “Nevertheless. Turn your head, because Heath is going to kiss me in celebration of us getting out of the tunnels alive.”

  Her frown turned to a smile. “In that case, I’ll visit the restroom for three minutes, and three minutes only. Then, we need to talk.” She headed down the short hallway.

  “Make it three minutes I won’t forget.” I pulled Heath’s face to mine.

  I lost all track of time until Mom cleared her throat again. I opened my eyes. “You’re like a pall over my happiness.”

  She shrugged. “Kissing a man who is not your husband for longer than three minutes while lying prone on your back is not wise.”

  Heath laughed and helped me sit up. “You wanted to talk to us?”

  My lips tingled and felt swollen from his kisses. I hadn’t wanted to stop. Maybe it had been a good thing Mom was there.

  “Well, after the storm,” Mom said, sitting across from us, “everyone gathered back in the dining hall for cake. I brought you both a slice and Shelby’s gifts. Anyway, conversation flowed like cheap champagne. Especially from the lips of the Poker Boys.”

  I straightened. “What did they say?”

  “It seems William, on his way to visit Teresa, smelled a certain brand of cologne.”

  Here we went again. I’d found my suspects last time because someone said the killer wore Polo. “And?”

  “They didn’t recognize the scent, only that it was something heavy and musky and was smelled after a particularly loud argument between the mystery man and Teresa. Most likely it was personally made for the wearer.”

  “How is that supposed to help?” There had to be hundreds of different colognes.

  “You have a nose, don’t you? I used mine during the cake eating. Four men wear a scent new to me. Alan, Damon, Harvey, and Scott.”

  So, Harvey had changed his cologne of choice. I couldn’t help but wonder if the scent was one preferred by the woman they all flocked to see. “I need to get into their cottages.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?” Heath asked. “It isn’t like you can knock on their door and waltz through the rooms.”

  “No, I need a reason for Alice to let me in.” If I had a talent for decorating, which I didn’t, I could offer my services there. It would be the perfect cover. Maybe I could enter on the pretense of seeing whether anything needed repairing or replaced. I grinned. “I forgot, Alice gave me a master key. I’ll start searching during mealtimes.”

  “People will miss you,” Heath said. “You never skip a meal.”

  “True.” I needed spies. People to let me know when one of the suspects left the community for a while. I knew Grandma would be on board. “Mom, I need to know when these four men leave Shady Acres. As receptionist, you see who comes and goes.”

  “Good, I can help from the safety of my desk.” She stood and gave me a hug. “I’ll see you at breakfast. Come along, Heath.”

  He chuckled, gave me a quick kiss, and followed Mom out the door. The lock clicked.

  Alone now, I grabbed a notepad and pencil to jot down some notes.

  Lauren tried to kill me and/or Heath, but most likely not Teresa.

  Man Teresa argued with wears mystery scent. I listed the four names under that line.

  Someone gave Teresa roses shortly before her death. The killer or an admirer?

  Motive?

  Teresa wanted to be a movie star. She needed money to pursue that dream. She had a “side business”.

  She left no family, but had…

  I was an idiot! I jumped to my feet and raced for my bedroom. Rummaging through my nightstand, I found the envelopes from the roll top desk in Teresa’s cottage.

  One was a rejection from a talent scout, another from a modeling agency. The other two looked to be love letters.

  I lifted them to my nose, detecting a faint musky cologne. Lifting the flap, I pulled out a sheet of off-white stationary and read:

  “Stop threatening me with exposure. I’ve given you more gifts than a woman of your meager talents deserve.” Ouch. “If I wanted a permanent relationship, I wouldn’t spend time with a…” I couldn’t say the filthy word the writer had called her.

  The other letter looked to be written before the nasty one and had the same masculine handwriting.

  “Dearest Teresa, your beauty is above the flowers I send you daily. The pearl earrings were nothing compared to the delicacy of your ears.” Seriously? Who was this guy? “I cannot wait until our rendezvous. Do you know of the fallen gazebo? Meet me there at ten.”

  So, the location of her death hadn’t been the only time Teresa had gone into the maze. I tapped the pencil I still held against my teeth. If I could find the one who wore this scent and had this handwriting, I would find her killer.

  All I needed to do now was find a way to accomplish that. I clicked off the lights and headed to bed.

  Grabbing my nightclothes from the bedpost, I stepped into the bathroom. After changing and brushing my teeth, I surveyed the damage to my lovely red dress. Lots of stains, no tears. Hopefully, a good cleaner could restore it. I hung it on the hook on the back of the door, turned off the light and stepped into my bedroom.

  A shadow passed by the window.

  I froze.

  The shadow stopped.

  I plastered my back against the wall and slid around the room until I could reach my cell phone where I’d tossed it on the bed. I sent Ted a text message.

  Seconds later, my phone rang and the theme to Jurassic Park sent the shadowy figure running. “No worries, Ted, he’s gone now.”

  “Teddy is in the restroom,” Grandma said. “I read the text and wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “When I send a text like this one, don’t call, text me back. You frightened them away.”

  “You’re complaining about the fact I might have scared away someone intending to murder you?”

  She had a point. “We might have been able to catch the person.”

  “Here’s Teddy.”

  “Shelby?”

  I explained about the figure outside my window. “I don’t think it was an ordinary Peeping Tom.” I also told him about the letters and the cologne.

  “Why don’t you join the police academy and put these skills to legal use?”

  “I’m happy doing what I do.”

  He sighed. “I’ll be right over. Stay inside.”

  In two minutes, a knock sounded on my door. After verifying through the peephole that it was Ted, I opened the door.

  “Show me where you saw them?” He flicked on his flashlight.

  I led him around the corner to the spot outside my bedroom window. “Those footprints look like a size eleven.”

  “Okay, Sherlock.” He knelt and studied the prints. “You’re probably right.” Putting his hands on his knees, he pushed to his feet.

  “We’re getting close. We know the man wears a certain type of cologne, wears a size eleven shoe, and we know what his handwriting looks like.”

  “I really wish you’d do me a favor and stay out of it.”

  “You know I have good insight. People talk to me, Ted.”

  “That’s the only reason I haven’t thrown you behind bars by now.”

  15

  “Damon has left the building.” Mom’s text came through right after breakfast.

  “Time to snoop.” I stuck my phone in my pocket and explained to Heath where I was going.

  “I’m going with you.”

  We headed to Damon’s cottage. After a cursory look around to make sure no one was paying attention to us, I unlocked the door and we ducked inside. I pulled two pairs of vinyl gloves from my pocket.

  “You carry these with you?” Heath snapped them on his hands.

  “Better safe than sorry. I’m skating on thin ice with Ted as it is. I don’t think he’ll turn a blind eye to breaking and entering.” I donned my own gloves. “You start in here, I’ll start in the bedroom. Look for anything…suspicious or that has to do with Tere
sa.”

  Another text from Mom that said, “Alan has left the building.”

  There may not be time to search both places.

  “Scott has left the building.”

  “Alice has left the building.”

  “Birdie has left the building.”

  For crying out loud. I texted back. “Okay, only text me now if Damon returns.”

  “I found two samples of writing. Do these match the handwriting of the suspect?” Heath handed me an envelope and the residential agreement.

  I wasn’t a handwriting expert, but they looked like two different people’s signatures and didn’t match the letter to Teresa. “Snap a pic with your phone.”

  I headed for the closet. Yep, size eleven loafers. I studied them for signs of recent dirt. Mulch, the type I put in the flower beds was embedded in the shoes. It increased my suspicion, but he could have gotten it anywhere on the grounds.

  A search through the clothes hanging there revealed nothing. I stepped out of the closet and checked between the mattresses, under the bed, in the dresser drawers…nada. Zip. Zilch. Other than the mud on his shoes, the man was clean.

  “Found something!” Heath called from the other room.

  I rushed to his side or rather the counter he stood on. He handed me a cookie jar that looked like a monkey.

  Inside was diamonds. Lots of loose diamonds and other precious stones. “Well, he is a retired jeweler. Maybe he still makes jewelry.”

  Heath held out his hand for the jar. “A bit risky. Wouldn’t they be safer in a deposit box somewhere?”

  It was odd, but not something to cause alarm. “Take a picture.” I texted Mom, found out Alan was still gone, so we headed next door.

  The cottage looked as if no one lived there. No books or magazines on the coffee table. No dishes in the sink. Every sofa pillow plumped to perfection and in its place. Even the laptop sat precisely on the dinette table, nothing but a Cross ink pen beside it.

  In my opinion, only crazy people lived like this. There were still vacuum tracks in the carpet. How were we going to enter without his knowing?

  “This will be tough,” Heath said. “I can’t even vacuum behind us and put the vacuum back where it belongs.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “We can stay in his prints, but it limits where we look.”

  “It’s all we’ve got.” I placed my foot in Alan’s size eleven print and followed them to the bedroom.

  Thank goodness there were no vaccum tracks here. I again headed for the closet first. Of course it was meticulous. Clothes were hung according to use and color. Something was seriously wrong with this man.

  No mud on his shoes, of course. But I did find signs he’d scraped them on a nearby trashcan. Bingo. Black boxes lined the top shelf, full of receipts and other important documents. Nothing that looked as if it were to or from Teresa, though.

  I checked the other usual places until my cell phone dinged signally a text. “Albatross returning.”

  What the heck? I hope she meant Alan. “Gotta go, Heath!”

  I quickly retraced my steps, pausing at the front door to take one last look around.

  “May I help you?” I turned and stared into the curious expression of Alan. “Just checking to see whether anything needs replaced or repaired.”

  “I hope you didn’t go inside. I just vacuumed.”

  “Nope. Just got the door unlocked and you showed up.”

  “Good. I’m just fine. Nothing to concern yourselves with.” He gave a stiff smile and entered his cottage.

  “Pleasant guy,” Heath said.

  “Facetious much?”

  He laughed and gave me a quick one-armed hug. “Why don’t you check to see whether Scott is still out?”

  He was, so we made that our next stop. His cottage couldn’t be more different than Alan’s. This was a single man’s hovel for sure.

  There wasn’t a square inch not covered with something. “We’ll have to hurry. This will take a while.”

  I totally scored in a box under the bed. Inside were photos of Teresa and the shadowy forms of men entering her cottage. There were also letters with the suspect’s signature. Buried under the papers was a ruby ring I would have died to possess. I snapped pics of everything and shoved it under the bed.

  “Uh, Shelby?” Heath stood in the doorway.

  Behind him, clutching a pistol which was aimed at Heath’s head, was Scott. “Mind telling me why the two of you are snooping in my cottage?”

  “Oh, uh…we were checking to see if anything needs repairing or replaced.” I forced a smile. “No need for violence. We can go.”

  Scott sighed and lowered the gun. “I think the three of us need to have a conversation. Sit in the living room please.”

  Without arguing, we followed orders. Once we sat, Heath took my hand in his and squeezed. “It’ll be fine.”

  I nodded.

  Scott sat across from us, laying the gun on the side table next to him. “I guess I have some explaining to do.”

  “You can start with why you killed Teresa,” I said.

  “What? I didn’t kill Teresa. I loved her, still do.” Sorrow shadowed his face.

  “Then why the gun?”

  “Someone has been leaving me threatening notes.”

  “Can we quit with the twenty questions and you tell us what’s going on?” Heath leaned forward. “I don’t take you for a killer.”

  “I’m not. The gun isn’t even loaded.” He shook his head and dangled his hands between his knees. “As soon as I got the job helping you as hired hand, I started my own investigation into Teresa’s death.”

  “Surely you’ve heard that’s what we’re doing?” I frowned. “Why not approach us?”

  “I don’t know who to trust.”

  “Haven’t you seen Officer Lawrence with us? He shadows our every move. That ought to show you can trust us. Have you caught anyone looking in your windows?”

  “Yeah. It’s the old lady Wilkinson. She’s harmless.”

  I’d seen her around, but haven’t met her. With the way Alice kept me running there were several of the quieter residents I had yet to meet. Still, I doubted the woman wore a size eleven in men’s shoes.

  “You’ve spoken to her?”

  “After I caught her peeking. She’s a bit of a perv, but it’s kind of funny, don’t you think?”

  “Not really. Did you learn anything?”

  It was clear he wasn’t sure whether to trust us or not. He stared at me for a moment, then at Heath before shrugging. “She said Teresa fought with the same man every night but she didn’t know his name. Only that he was a resident here.”

  “All she would have to do is ask.”

  “She doesn’t like people.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Heath and I needed to pay the little old woman a visit. “Didn’t it bother you how she earned most of her money?”

  His head snapped up. “Of course it did. We had our own arguments about it.”

  “That’s a good motive for murder.”

  “I wouldn’t have hurt her. Ever.” He seemed sincere.

  “Who do you think killed Teresa?”

  “I can’t tell you that. Not until I’m sure.” He stood. “I’m sure you understand. If I make an accusation, that puts me in more danger. I’ll see you out.”

  I called Mom to have her look up Ms. Wilkinson’s cottage number, then Heath and I headed right to number twenty-two. She answered the door in a snap up the front house dress, rollers in her hair, and a cigarette dangling from her lips. The glare in her eyes told me she wasn’t going to be friendly. Her words confirmed it.

  “What do you want?”

  “I…uh…” needed to learn how to be a better liar, if truth be told. “Do you have any repairs or replacements that need done in your cottage?”

  “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. I saw you come from that Scott boy’s place. Not much misses my eyes, girlie. Come on in and ask your stupid questi
ons.”

  We entered a cottage decorated like the 1950s. She’d even painted her kitchen appliances pink. Alice would have a fit if she knew.

  “If you’re going to ask me who killed that girl, I don’t know. She kept her curtains closed up tight. As if that would hide her dirty secrets.” She cackled and blew smoke through her nose.

  “You must know something.” I perched on a floral sofa covered in plastic. “I’ve heard you make the rounds.”

  “Looking in windows, you mean. Say what you mean, girl. I’m not one to mince words.”

  I didn’t guess she was. Deciding to adopt a practice of Ted’s, I kept my mouth closed and just looked at her.

  Heath perched next to me, his lips twitching as he tried to hide his amusement.

  “Don’t laugh, boy. I’ve seen that crazy decorating woman hanging around your place.”

  His humor faded. “That’s in the past.”

  “Is it? I saw her just last night roaming around your cottage trying to find a way inside.”

  Heath glanced at me, then back at our smoking hostess. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “I thought you wanted her there.”

  “No. She tried to kill me.”

  “Oh, well.” She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. “The person you ought to be asking questions of is that vampire man. I’ve heard he can walk through walls.”

  “I’ve already spoken to Leroy.” I turned my head to avoid the smoke.

  “Sorry if you don’t like my smoke,” she said. “But it is my house.”

  “I’m not complaining.” I coughed. “Is there nothing you can tell us?”

  “I can tell you a lot. The man has grey hair and average size feet. Husky voice and wears a musky cologne.”

  Things we already knew except for the grey hair. Most of the male population of Shady Acres had grey hair. Discouragement choked me as much as the second hand smoke.

  “We’ll be leaving you. Be careful, Ms. Wilkinson and stop peeping in windows. It isn’t safe.”

  “It amuses me. Why would you want to take away an old woman’s fun. See yourselves out.” She waved a hand. “I’ll let you know if I see anything of importance.”

  We thanked her and stepped outside. “Another day wasted where I could be working on the tornado damage.”