Cozy Creek

by K M Morgan

  Thicke shrugged. “What makes you believe it wasn’t?”

  “What kind of a burglar breaks into someone’s place and doesn’t steal a purse? Or a TV? Or any valuables, for that matter?”

  “Maybe the guilty party intended to steal a bunch of items, but things went terribly wrong. Perhaps the killer wasn’t expecting Emily to be home when they broke into her place,” Thicke said. “So, when they discovered that Emily was at home, they killed her in a panic and then rushed out of the house without pocketing any valuables.”

  “I could see a burglar leave a TV behind, but not a purse. I don’t care how panicked they were. They would have taken that with them on the way out.”

  Thicke’s forehead wrinkled. He then replied, “I can’t argue with that.”

  “Good. I’m not in the mood to argue,” Chloe said.

  “If you don’t believe Emily’s death was the result of a burglary gone wrong, then what’s your explanation for what happened back there?”

  “I think Emily knew her killer. And that the murderer came to her door under the pretense of having a friendly conversation. Then, once the killer was inside her house, things turned nasty.”

  “You could be right.”

  “It certainly explains why the front door was cracked open. And why there was no signs of forced entry.”

  “Let’s say you’re correct,” Thicke replied. “If Emily was killed by someone she knew, it naturally leads to one question. Who had a reason to want her dead?”

  Chloe didn’t hesitate with her response. “Three names come to mind.”

  Thicke’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

  Chloe nodded.

  “In that case, it looks like we have some interviews to conduct.”

  “We certainly do,” Chloe said. “But first, finish your pie. I have a feeling that we have a really stressful day ahead of us.”

  Chapter Six

  Michael Hightower was an athletic thirty-nine-year-old with a square clean-shaven face, short brown hair, and hazel eyes.

  He lived in a red-brick townhome on Brewster Lane. It was a small place. Not to mention cramped. Especially for a man like Michael, who until recently resided in a two-story colonial home. All that changed when Emily kicked him out of the house a few months back. In Michael’s mind, this townhome was probably the best he could do on such short notice. Besides, it was still a roof over his head.

  Instead of focusing on Mr. Hightower’s living conditions, Thicke and Chloe zeroed-in on more important details. Namely, Emily’s death. As Thicke asked Michael one question after another, Chloe couldn’t get over how much easier it was to conduct an interview with a suspect when one of the investigators had a police badge. Talk about a game changer.

  Chloe was used to doing things the hard way. Having to get really creative with her questions in order to get suspects to talk to her. But Thicke didn’t have to do any of that. He just flashed his police badge and got straight to the point. That was incredibly refreshing.

  At the same time, just because the detective was able to get Michael to talk didn’t mean that the suspect was telling the truth. Or that he was providing any useful information. Michael’s first few answers certainly weren’t very helpful. Especially when it came to his response about his whereabouts during the time of the murder.

  According to Michael, he was out jogging alone between nine and ten o’clock last night. While that was a seemingly plausible story, there was no way to confirm that Michael was telling the truth. Since Mr. Hightower didn’t have anyone who could verify his alibi, Thicke and Chloe had more questions for him.

  Michael wasn’t eager to answer them, however. He put his hand up before Thicke had a chance to say another word.

  “Before we go any further, I know what you’re thinking,” Michael said.

  Thicke folded his arms. “You do, huh?”

  Michael nodded. “I watch plenty of detective shows—”

  Thicke stopped him right there. “Mr. Hightower, this isn’t a television program.”

  “I know that,” Michael said.

  “Then why did you bring up detective shows?”

  “Because on those shows, the victim’s ex is always the primary suspect.”

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV.”

  Michael stared the detective down. “Are you telling me I’m not a suspect then?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Thicke replied.

  Michael narrowed his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

  Thicke replied calmly, “At this stage in the investigation, we’re just trying to interview everyone who had ties to Emily.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be interrogating Benjamin Glover?” Michael asked.

  Thicke nodded. “He’s on our list.”

  “Good. That man is as suspicious as can be.”

  Thicke stared Michael down. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Trying to help you out,” Michael said.

  Thicke shook his head. “No. You’re trying to deflect. And it’s not going to work.”

  Michael threw out his arms. “Oh, come on. You can’t deny that Benjamin had a killer motive. He’s never gotten over the fact that Emily dumped him. Which is saying a lot, considering that she left him nearly five years ago.”

  Thicke put his hand up. “What makes you so sure that Benjamin never got over Emily?”

  “How about the fact that he tried to win her back shortly after Emily and I separated?” Michael said.

  “How do you even know that?”

  Michael scoffed. “Are you kidding? News travels fast in a town like this. And when that news concerns my wife, I listen.”

  Chloe stepped in. “Don’t you mean, your estranged wife?”

  “Right.”

  Thicke tried to steer the conversation away from Benjamin. “Like I said before, we will be talking with Mr. Glover later. Right now, we have some more questions for you.”

  A look of confusion came to Michael’s face. “Really?”

  Thicke nodded.

  “What more do you want from me?” Michael asked.

  “On the topic of motives, you had a pretty strong reason to want Emily dead.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Mr. Hightower, we’re not stupid.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “No. But you’re treating us like we are. I mean, you were in the middle of a bitter divorce.”

  “I wouldn’t say it was bitter.”

  “How would you characterize it then?”

  “I would call it unnecessary.”

  Thicke’s eyebrows knitted. “I’m not following your logic.”

  “Don’t you understand? I loved my wife. I didn’t want to get a divorce. That was her idea,” Michael said.

  “You wanted to stay married to her then?” Thicke asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  Michael nodded. “Many times.”

  “And what did she say?” Thicke asked.

  Michael lowered his head. “She wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  Chloe folded her arms. “Can you blame her? After all, you did cheat on her.”

  “Yes. Once,” Michael snapped. “And I immediately regretted it. Trust me. If I could go back, I would.”

  Chloe stared at Michael. “You still love Emily, don’t you?”

  “I sure do,” Michael said. “Which is why you need to believe me.”

  “Unfortunately, you just gave us a bigger reason to suspect you,” Chloe said.

  Michael squinted. “What are you talking about?”

  “Love is an amazing thing. But when love goes wrong, things can turn nasty in a hurry. Especially when one person is still in love and the other isn’t,” Chloe said.

  Michael pointed his finger at Chloe. “I don’t like how you’re twisting my words around. I didn’t kill Emily. End of story.”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple,” Thicke said
.

  “It is to me. I don’t have anything else to say to you,” Michael replied.

  Chapter Seven

  Thicke and Cloe continued asking Michael questions, but they finally gave up when they realized that the suspect wasn’t going to give them any additional information.

  After Thicke and Chloe left Michael Hightower’s red-brick townhome, their next stop was Benjamin Glover’s Cape Cod-style home on Mercer Road.

  Benjamin Glover was a pot-bellied thirty-five-year-old who had black-rimmed glasses and a thick beard.

  As Thicke introduced himself and flashed his police badge, Chloe prayed that this interview would go better than their last one had. Whether her prayer would be answered was yet to be determined. One thing was clear, however. This interview had certainly begun on a similar note.

  Thicke started things off by revealing the news of Emily’s shocking death. The detective then asked for Benjamin’s alibi during the time of the murder. According to the rotund suspect, between nine and ten o’clock last night, he was driving home from his beer league softball game. The problem with Benjamin’s story was that he drove home alone, which meant that there was no way to corroborate whether he was telling the truth.

  While Thicke and Chloe continued to focus on Benjamin’s story, the suspect had something else on his mind.

  “I still can’t believe that Emily’s dead,” Benjamin said. “This is absolutely heartbreaking.”

  Chloe nodded. “It is. Which is why we aren’t going to stop until we find Emily’s killer.”

  A fire came to Benjamin’s eyes. “Good. Whoever did this needs to pay.”

  Chloe nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  “I wish you the best of luck,” Benjamin said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get out of your way and let you both get back to work.”

  Chloe put her hand up. “What makes you think we’re done with our work here?”

  “You have a killer to catch, so I figured it would be a waste of time to keep talking to me.”

  “You figured wrong.”

  Benjamin exhaled. “All right. If you want to keep wasting your time, that’s your prerogative.”

  “Has it occurred to you that we don’t believe this interview is a waste of time?” Thicke asked.

  Benjamin narrowed his eyes. “Detective, I assure you, if you’re looking for a killer, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

  “I wish I could believe that,” Thicke said.

  “No one’s stopping you,” Benjamin said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Especially since there isn’t anyone who can confirm your alibi for the time of the murder,” Thicke said.

  Chloe spoke up again. “And of course there’s your motive.”

  Benjamin shrugged. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ben, who do you think you’re fooling? You seem more broken up by the news of Emily’s death than her own husband was,” Chloe said.

  “Don’t you mean, her estranged husband? Emily and Michael were in the process of getting divorced.”

  Chloe bit the corner of her lip. “You seem pretty knowledgeable about Emily’s romantic life.”

  “Her divorce wasn’t a secret.”

  “No. But you still seem to know plenty about Emily’s romantic situation.”

  “I see what you’re trying to do—”

  Chloe cut Benjamin off. “Get to the bottom of what happened—”

  Benjamin shook his head. “No. You’re trying to get under my skin. But you’re trying to shake down the wrong person.”

  “What makes you say that?” Thicke asked.

  “If you’re searching for someone who had a motive for wanting Emily dead, you don’t have to look any further than Michael Hightower,” Benjamin said.

  Thicke chuckled.

  Benjamin’s eyebrows knitted. “What’s so funny?”

  “How eager you and Michael both are to throw each other under the bus,” Thicke said.

  Benjamin grumbled to himself. “I should have known that scumbag would badmouth me.”

  “The question is, how much of it is just finger pointing?” Thicke asked.

  Benjamin folded his arms. “If I were you, I wouldn’t listen to a word out of Michael’s mouth.”

  “Of course you’d say that,” Thicke replied.

  “What do you mean, of course?” Benjamin asked.

  “Mr. Glover, I’ve been a detective for a long time. I know a diversionary tactic when I see one,” Thicke said.

  Chloe stared Benjamin down. “You and Michael really don’t like each other, do you?”

  Thicke didn’t give Benjamin a chance to answer. Instead, the detective spoke up again before Benjamin was able to open his mouth. “They sure don’t. Which is why I think we should put them both in the same room together.”

  Benjamin shook his head. “No, thank you.”

  “Let me ask you this. You’ve made your feelings about Mr. Hightower quite clear. But do you have any actual proof that he is responsible for Emily’s death?”

  A fire came to Benjamin’s eyes. “I know a bad dude when I see one.”

  “I’m afraid we need more to go on than that,” Thicke said.

  “In that case, why don’t you try and dig up some dirt on Michael instead of hassling me?” Benjamin said.

  “Because we have our suspicions about you as well,” Thicke said. “After all, Emily did break your heart—”

  “That was years ago,” Benjamin said.

  “Are you going to deny that you still had feelings for her? Are you really going to pretend that you didn’t try to win her back?” Thicke asked.

  “Yes, I did have feelings for her. Which is why I’d never do anything to hurt her,” Benjamin said.

  “Even if she rejected you again?” Thicke said. “In my experience, people can do some crazy things when they are jilted by someone they love.”

  “For the last time, I did not kill Emily,” Benjamin said. “Now, will you please leave?”

  Thicke held his hand up. “I’m afraid we’re not quite done yet.”

  Benjamin narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

  “I can think of a few things,” Thicke said.

  “I’ll bet you can,” Benjamin said.

  “If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about,” Chloe said.

  “I don’t have anything to hide,” Benjamin said. “Now, you can ask me all the questions you want, but it’s not going to change the fact that I’m innocent.”

  Chapter Eight

  Thicke and Chloe did ask Benjamin a number of additional questions. Unfortunately, Benjamin’s answers weren’t terribly helpful. So, instead of wasting more time speaking with Benjamin, Thicke and Chloe drove to Getzleberg’s Grocery Store on Wave Avenue to interview Lindsay Bradshaw.

  Ms. Bradshaw was short and rotund forty-four-year-old. She had a round face and shoulder-length black hair.

  Just like with the two previous suspects, Lindsay was unable to provide Thicke and Chloe with an alibi that could be corroborated. According to Lindsay, she finished up her work shift last night, drove straight home, heated up some dinner in the microwave, and then took a bath before heading off to bed.

  It would have been easy to buy Lindsay’s story. But Thicke and Chloe both knew better than to trust a suspect unless they had proof that they were innocent.

  Thicke looked Lindsay up and down, paying close attention to the suspect’s body language.

  “It’s a shame that you don’t have anyone to confirm your story,” Thicke said.

  “It’s not just a story,” Lindsay said. “It’s what happened.”

  Thicke stared her down. “Uh-huh.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Lindsay asked. “Don’t you believe me?”

  “I don’t make a habit of taking a suspect’s words at face value.”

  Lindsay gritted her teeth. “Detective, I’m not a suspect.”

  “You
say that. But given the information you’ve provided us with, I certainly can’t cross you off of my list.”

  Lindsay groaned. “This is ridiculous.”

  “No. It’s just standard procedure.”

  “I’m done with this conversation.” Lindsay took a few steps back.

  “Are you in a hurry to be somewhere?” Thicke said.

  “I have work to do,” Lindsay said.

  “We will let you get back to it—” Thicke started to say.

  Lindsay cut the detective off. “Good—”

  Thicke held his hand up. “When we get all of our questions answered.”

  Lindsay exhaled and then replied, “I just told you where I was last night. What more do you want to know?”

  “Right now, I’m interested in finding out why you’re so annoyed with us,” Thicke said.

  “Because it seems absurd that you’re even talking to me,” Lindsay said.

  “I don’t know how you can honestly say that, given your work history with Emily,” Thicke replied.

  “I know what you’re thinking right now,” Lindsay said. “We both wanted that front-end manager position and she ended up getting it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Here’s the thing, though. It was just a promotion. I would never kill her over something like that.”

  Lindsay’s response didn’t sit well with Chloe. There was something peculiar about Lindsay’s wording.

  Chloe called the suspect out. “But you would kill her over something else?”

  Lindsay tried to clarify her previous statement. “Don’t twist my words. What I meant was that I wouldn’t kill Emily for any reason, much less over a promotion.”

  “I’ve seen people killed over less,” Thicke said.

  “I just told you. I’m not a murderer,” Lindsay said.

  “Ms. Bradshaw, you’re the third person to tell me that today. But guess what? Someone is responsible for Emily’s death.”

  “It’s not me.”

  Thicke stared her down. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Let me ask you this. Now that Emily is dead, who is going to take over her manager position?”

  Lindsay held her hand up. “Stop right there.”