by K M Morgan
Shannon bit the corner of her lip. “It’s worth thinking about.”
“It’s more than that. I think this is the answer.”
“For the future, maybe. It doesn’t help us tonight.”
“True, but we do have something to help us tonight,” Chloe said.
“What’s that?” Shannon asked.
“More pie,” Chloe answered. “Then I’ll help you close up, and we’ll go out.”
Shannon smiled. She could use some fun time.
“You got it,” she said.
Chapter Nine
Chloe awoke the next morning all too ready to put the events of the night before behind her. The beauty of a new day was that a whole new set of possibilities was now in front of her. At the same time, not all those possibilities were good. It was important to keep a good attitude. Positive thinking could take her far.
She knew her corgi, Rufus, agreed. Rufus approached every day as an opportunity—to get a walk, at least. As Chloe looked at her stumpy little friend staring back at her with wide eyes and his tongue out, it was clear what Rufus wanted. There was no doubt he would get it, too.
“Is someone ready for a walk?” she asked.
Rufus wagged his tail with complete abandon. It was almost impossible to say no to a corgi. They were perpetually in good moods. The way their tongues hung out made them look like they were smiling. So even though it was a shade on the early side, Chloe didn’t mind getting up for Rufus.
“Who is a happy little doggy?” She petted him a few times. “That’s right, you are.”
Rufus barked at her, encouraging her to hurry up.
“All right, I hear you. I’m coming.”
That first step getting out of bed was always the hardest. It was always easier to stay cocooned in her bed sheets. At the same time, Chloe knew a walk would do her good. She could get some fresh air, straighten up her thoughts, and depending on the speed Rufus moved, she could possibly even burn off that slice of pie she polished off last night.
Rufus barked again.
“Someone is sure excited, aren’t they?” Chloe joked.
Chloe had owned a number of dogs in her life, but it never ceased to amaze her how jazzed they got to take a simple walk. They had the kind of enthusiasm that Chloe only reserved for taking a Hawaiian vacation.
To a dog, life truly was the little things. They basked in the simple joys. Humans could learn a lot from that.
Chloe had to remind herself of that fact when she took a step outside. She was given an icy and abrupt greeting by the brisk chill of winter. It was one of those deceptively cold days when snow was nowhere to be found, and the sun was hanging in the crystal-clear sky, but the temperature refused to play nice. The forecast was enough to make Chloe grimace. It didn’t matter how beautiful of a day it was on the surface. Outdoors, it was parka season, and she wasn’t going to leave home without her favorite red winter coat on.
While Chloe daydreamed about making a cup of hot cocoa and hopping back into bed, little Rufus was unfazed by the cold. Then again, he had a built-in fur coat.
Rufus led the way to the park, bounding forward with stumpy exuberance. Chloe had to give her dog credit, the cold weather was no match for the allure of sniffing fire hydrants along the route to the park.
While Rufus was marking his territory and sniffing everything in sight, Chloe tried to reach her friend Hope on the phone. With the rocky way things went last night, Chloe wanted an update.
That was harder to come by than she thought.
She got no answer from her friend. Chloe didn’t like that. It was uncharacteristic of Hope not to have responded to a text message overnight. Chloe hoped nothing was wrong, but she didn’t feel good about the situation, especially as a pit began forming in her stomach. That was never a good sign. She’d have to follow up on these burgeoning bad feelings after her walk.
In the meantime, while Chloe was looking at her phone, she got startled by Rufus barking.
Chloe jumped back and clutched her chest. As she caught her breath, she thought about the irony of the situation. She’d made a habit of startling murder suspects in the past and had always wondered how someone could have such a lack of awareness of their surroundings. Now she was getting a taste of her own medicine.
Luckily, as she looked up from her phone, she realized Rufus was only barking because her father was approaching. Wait a minute, what was her dad doing in the park, in a jogging outfit? Something was seriously awry here. Her father had always been more couch potato than jock. Sometimes it seemed like he was allergic to calisthenics. So what was with the about-face?
While Chloe was puzzled by her dad’s sudden interest in fitness, Robert Cook seemed more interested in talking about how absorbed his daughter was with her phone.
“It’s a beautiful day. It would be a shame to miss it,” Robert Cook said.
“You’re right. It would be a shame to miss seeing you in that outfit. I didn’t know you owned a matching sweat suit,” Chloe replied.
“Don’t try to make this about me. It’s about your generation being dangerously addicted to your phones—”
Just then, at the most ironic possible time, the sound of a phone ringing could be heard. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Chloe’s phone. It was a shame too because Chloe was hoping Hope Callahan might be calling.
Instead, it was Chloe’s father’s phone. The conversation got abruptly quiet. Robert Cook had a soft spot for steel drum music and couldn’t resist using a Caribbean steel drum song as his ringtone.
Robert looked at the caller ID screen on his phone then turned to his daughter. “Hold on, I have to take this.”
Chloe was nearly in hysterics. Oh, the wonderful irony of her father getting distracted by a phone call during a lecture about phone overdependence.
Chloe giggled. “This is classic.”
Robert felt the need to explain himself before taking the call. “It’s your mother. If I don’t answer it, she’ll just keep calling until I do.”
Chloe knew that all too well. Her mother went out of her way to never leave voicemails. She’d been known to call three or four times in a row in hopes of getting a live voice rather than just leaving one simple voicemail. It had been this way for years, and she wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
That being said, Chloe wasn’t about to let the irony of the situation go unmentioned.
“Don’t worry. Your lecture about phone dependence can wait until after you take your call,” Chloe joked.
Robert gave his daughter the stink eye then took the call. “Hi, honey. Yes, I picked up the maple syrup…and the fresh-squeezed orange juice too…Look, I have to go…Well, because I’m lecturing our daughter on cell phone dependency…Love you. Bye.”
Robert then hung up his phone.
Chloe raised her eyebrow at her father. “You were saying?”
Robert tried to talk his way out of this. “I’m a great example of what not to do.”
“Nice try.”
Robert looked embarrassed.
Chloe continued. “Now, do you want to explain what’s going on with the whole jogging suit?”
“I thought this little number had been dropped off at the thrift store years ago. Instead, it was just waiting for me in the basement. You’d be amazed what’s hiding down there.”
Chloe grimaced. “That’s why I try to stay out of the basement at all costs. Fashion faux pas aside, why are you jogging?”
Robert folded his arms. “Don’t act so surprised.”
“This is more than surprise. It’s complete shock. I didn’t know jogging was even in your vocabulary.”
“There are a lot of words in my vocabulary that you may not know about.” Robert stopped himself. “Wait a minute, that didn’t come out right.” He switched gears. “Look, the way I see it, this fitness transformation has been long overdue.”
All of a sudden, it all came together in Chloe’s mind. It was one of those light bulb moments. She finally understood wh
y her father seemed to be acting so strangely.
“Mom put you up to this, didn’t she?” she asked.
Robert got a baffled look on his face. “How did you know?”
“Dad, I’ve solved two murder cases. This mysterious behavior of yours was small peanuts in comparison. Plus, you gave yourself away.”
Robert became curious. “How?”
“Actually, your vocabulary gave you away. You don’t use words like transformation. Jargon like that usually comes out of Mom’s mouth. She’s always talking about things like initiatives.”
Robert chuckled. “You’re one smart cookie. Mmm, I could really go for a cookie right now.”
“Let me guess, jogging in the cold is one of Mom’s new initiatives.”
“Oh yeah. Your mother and I are gearing up for the season of the shrinking waistline.”
Chloe smiled. “That sounds exactly like Mom. By the way, why isn’t she out here with you?”
“She woke up on the grumpy side of the bed. Her transformation isn’t going to start until tomorrow after a nice pancake breakfast.”
“And your transformation?”
“Apparently, it was a little more urgent.”
“What a bummer.”
“Your mother insists that I’ll be thanking her for this later,” Robert said.
“And in the meantime?” Chloe wondered.
“I have to find a way to put on a good face.”
“Don’t forget—a happy wife means a happy life.”
“Your mother keeps reminding me of that too,” Robert said.
Chloe chuckled. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. A person can only be so patient when waiting for a pancake breakfast.”
Chapter Ten
What an odd start to the day. In the past, Chloe’s mornings were filled with nothing but routines. Not today. Things were shaping up quite differently than she expected. It wasn’t often a day took on a life of its own like this. Even more, it was still early. Who knew what would happen next?
Deep down, Chloe wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to that. After all, she still hadn’t heard back from her friend Hope. That was a big shame too, as Chloe had figured out the answer to Hope’s predicament over her bad work situation. If Hope took a job working at the pie shop, all her professional drama would be over. Chloe decided to drop Rufus off at home, grab a cup of coffee, and then pay Hope a visit.
For the second day in a row, Chloe wouldn’t make it to her friend’s house. Life had other plans. As she approached her house, she saw a most unwelcome sight, a police cruiser was parked in her driveway.
Chloe could only imagine what her neighbors were thinking at this point. She could see a few of them peering through their blinds in a not-so-subtle fashion. Chloe wished they’d go back to their Mahjong games or Jazzercise DVDs and stay out of her business.
Ugh.
Chloe was not looking forward to reaching her doorstep. She’d had far too many surprise conversations with Deputy Stanton in the last few months. The man seemed to be the perpetual bearer of bad news. No doubt that would be true this time. There was no reason for Stanton to make an impromptu house call, especially at nine in the morning.
The burly deputy and his brawny partner waited at the door for Chloe to approach.
“Ah, Chloe, there you are,” Deputy Stanton said.
Chloe? The deputy had always called her Ms. Cook. Was he getting so used to showing up at her house for police-related matters that he felt like they were on a first-name basis?
Two could play that game. “Steven, I’d say I’m happy to see you, but I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”
“As a general rule, it’s best not to lie to a police officer,” Deputy Stanton replied.
“So, let me guess, you didn’t come here with good news,” Chloe said.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Chloe sighed. “Of course not. The question is, how bad is the news?”
“That’s actually not for me to say.”
“Then what did you come here for?”
“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”
Chloe didn’t like all this tap dancing around. She wanted to get to the meat of the issue. Instead, the police deputy that was suddenly on a first-name basis with her was having a hard time getting to the point.
She got blunt with Stanton. “Look, something awful must have happened for you two to show up at my door like this. Just tell me what it is.”
The deputy managed to keep a tight lip. He stuck to the script his boss had clearly given him. “The detective has some questions for you.”
Chloe wanted something to go on at least. She pressed again. “About what?”
“The murder of Victoria Ryan.”
Chapter Eleven
When Chloe got a strong feeling in her gut earlier that morning, she was almost certain that something awful had happened. Unfortunately, she was right. Why couldn’t her gut be right about picking the correct lottery numbers? Why was it always about bad news?
The deputies brought Chloe to Victoria Ryan’s comedy-and-magic club, which also happened to be the scene of the crime. When they parked their car, the deputies went to grab Detective Todd Thicke, while Chloe surveyed the parking lot. The local police department was out in full force. To an outside observer, everything seemed so chaotic with police officers and members of the forensics team scurrying to and fro.
Chloe wasn’t thrown by that. She’d set foot on a few crime scenes in the past. Oh dear, what a surreal fact that was to contemplate. A few months ago, Chloe couldn’t imagine ever being near a crime. It was amazing how quickly things had changed. Even more, the changes appeared to be far from over.
Still, despite no longer being a stranger to crime scenes, one thing remained shocking to her: the sight of a murder victim. That was something she suspected she’d never get used to. How could she?
As if she’d just spotted a car crash on the Mid-Cape highway, Chloe couldn’t peel her eyes away from Victoria Ryan’s body in the parking lot of the club. It was a chilling sight. At the same time, Chloe didn’t want to linger on it too long. Stuff like this gave her nightmares. Before turning her head away, she did happen to spot a few peculiar things.
The body was facedown, and there was a gash on the back of Victoria’s head. A portion of her hair was stained with blood. That left no mystery as to how she’d been murdered. This was clearly a case of being struck with a blunt object to the back of the head. In addition, the body was not far from the backstage door. Most likely, that meant the killer waited for Victoria to leave the building, then snuck up on her from the shadows and struck her from behind.
While the forensics teams inspected Victoria’s corpse for any other wounds or leftover evidence, Chloe’s eyes shifted to a bloody shovel that was on the ground beside the body. Chloe recognized that shovel, and not just because it was the same kind that could be found on the shelves of every hardware store in America.
That particular snow shovel was propped up on the brick wall next to the backstage door last night. It was so close that Victoria tripped over it yesterday. The fact that it was now the murder weapon made it likely that the killing wasn’t predetermined, but rather a crime of passion. If the killer had been planning things, logic dictated that they’d bring their own weapon from home.
The body and bloody snow shovel weren’t the only things of interest at the scene. Beside the shovel, a member of the forensics team was bagging up a name tag. Chloe recognized the tag as the kind that the staff wore at the club. From fifteen feet away, she couldn’t make out the name on the tag, but it definitely belonged to one of Victoria’s employees.
Suddenly, Chloe’s attention was diverted elsewhere when she heard Hope Callahan’s voice calling her name.
“Chloe,” Hope said.
Chloe turned and saw Hope approaching. So much for the drama being over for Hope. If anything, it appeared to just be heating up.
At the same time, she wasn’t alone. There were half a dozen other people at the scene with no police affiliation. Chloe recognized them all. They were Noah Bryant, Ben Harrington, Tony Ryan, Isaac Hunter, Leah Manning, and Andrew Brown. All had very public blowups with Victoria last night. Each was no doubt a suspect in her murder now.
Hope had a panic-stricken look on her face as she continued. “I can’t believe they dragged you into this. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
Chloe had to cut through the hysteria and get to the bottom of this. “What is your fault exactly?”
“If I hadn’t told you to meet me at the club, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Hope, what happened after I left last night?” Chloe wondered.
“It’s complicated.”
“Simplify it then.”
“Things got much worse after you left.”
“How much worse?”
Chloe wouldn’t get her answer. Just then, Deputy Stanton approached and interrupted them.
“The detective is ready for you now,” Stanton said.
***
Detective Todd Thicke got everyone in a lineup and addressed them as a group. Todd was a bulky, bespectacled man in his midfifties with a round face that matched his beer belly. There was a weariness in his voice like he’d already seen too many horrors for one lifetime. He wasted no time in getting straight to the point.
“A woman was killed here last night outside this club. Not only did you all know her, but most of you had very strong motives for wanting her dead. Even more, each of you spoke with her shortly before she was murdered. I’ll have you know, I take crime very seriously. This is my town, and I’m not going to let some lowlife run afoul and get away with murder. Justice will be served in this case. Not only was Victoria Ryan murdered last night, but I think the killer is amongst us at this very moment. Now, there are two ways to do this—the easy way, and the hard way. So, does anyone want to come forward and confess?” Detective Thicke asked.