Stormy Day Mysteries 5-Book Cozy Murder Mystery Series Bundle

by Angela Pepper

  “And… did Mr. Michaels know about this? Is that why you had to silence him?”

  Jenkins straightened up and slowly turned to face me. He blinked, looking sad and confused. I almost felt sorry for him but not sorry enough to stop my phone from recording his confession.

  “Murray didn’t know,” Jenkins said. “Nobody knew.”

  “So, you broke into a crime scene to retrieve some cufflinks you don’t even care about?”

  Jenkins deflated, looking skinnier than a popped balloon.

  “I was searching for my wedding band,” he said. “It slipped off my finger the day I banned Murray from the store. I was sure he’d taken it, but I didn’t want to cause a scene on the sidewalk in front of the store. I thought I could reason with him eventually, but then I was out of town for a spell, and he never came around again.”

  “But you didn’t tell the police about your ring. You told them you were looking for cufflinks.”

  His face went pale. “A good man doesn’t take off his wedding band unless he’s up to no good. I didn’t want them to think I’d left my ring behind on a previous visit to the man’s house. Now, I’ve got no problem with people who are gay, and I stay out of other people’s business, but I couldn’t bear to have everyone thinking something that wasn’t true.”

  “Right,” I said, the picture coming into focus. “Was Murray gay?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. But if word got out that my wedding band was in his possession, I guarantee you wouldn’t be the last person to ask me that question.”

  “I understand,” I said, and I did. A wedding band conveyed more than other types of jewelry. Whatever testimony Jenkins gave the police was supposed to be private and confidential, but the fact that I, an ordinary citizen, knew about his cufflinks story was evidence to the contrary.

  He continued, “At least my treatment worked. I’ve gained a pound already. You must not tell anyone, though.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “But why is it such a secret if you’re feeling better?”

  He gave me a look of annoyance. “I guess the whole town’s going to know eventually, so I might as well tell you. After being suspected of murder and arrested for burglary, my reputation can’t exactly get worse. People still need their tuxedos. They’ll have to come here and rent them from the poo-poo eater.”

  I staggered back. “Pardon me?”

  He rubbed his forehead with one long-fingered hand as he explained the procedure. The treatment for his digestive problem involved him ingesting live bacteria cultures, harvested from living donors. Apparently, waste was taken from healthy subjects and then processed in a manner that, upon hearing it described, made me question if I could ever use a blender again.

  The funny thing was, even though he’d seemed so horrified about the treatment, the more he talked about it, the more animated he became. Almost proud.

  I had only myself to blame. I had, after all, encouraged him to open up and talk about it to someone.

  He kept talking, waving for me to follow him around the store as he tidied the display and gathered new materials. I lost track of how many times he used words that should never be uttered during normal retail interactions.

  Finally, when I thought I was going to have to fake a medical emergency to get out of there, the door opened.

  He walked over to greet the customers, who were the same mother and daughters I’d seen in the store four days earlier. The group of them blocked the exit. I stood near the counter and bided my time, studying the dimly-lit corkboard on the back wall as I waited for my chance to escape. Jenkins and the mother talked about the town’s recent homicide and how it was so troubling the police hadn’t made their arrest yet. The woman cited the statistic that most murders are solved within forty-eight hours, or never. Her daughters made faces at each other, and the older one distracted the younger one by trying on an assortment of sparkling hats.

  The door jingled again, and a man with the beginning of a snowy white beard came in to ask about Santa Claus suit rentals.

  Jenkins responded, “Mr. Lake, you know I always have one reserved for you!”

  The door opened again, and a couple came in with a sandy brown dog with soft-looking curly fur. They asked if it was okay to bring in Stanley, who had separation anxiety and would cry if left on the sidewalk. Leo Jenkins assured them it would be fine, and the two girls cooed over the Labradoodle while the adults continued to gossip, speculating about possible motivations for the recent murder.

  Ten minutes later, I moved out of the way to let the jolly-looking man arrange his costume rental.

  I gave Leo Jenkins a friendly wave and practically ran out of the shop.

  Breathless with excitement, I marched up the sidewalk.

  I knew who killed Murray Michaels.

  Now I just needed proof.

  Chapter 38

  Armed with two dozen miniature cupcakes, I pulled open the spotless glass door for Ruby’s Treasure Trove and went inside. Hayley, the young girl cleaning the display cases, looked exhausted.

  “Hello,” she said with a sigh. “May I help you with anything?” I looked into her pale blue eyes and saw the family resemblance to her half-sister, Harper.

  “Is Ruby in today?” I opened the bakery box and set it on the counter between us. “We can’t eat all these cupcakes by ourselves.”

  She hesitated, but I urged her to help herself to at least two, if not more.

  “You need the calories,” I said. “Ruby’s been working you to the bone, hasn’t she?”

  “Nonsense,” said Ruby, who’d just emerged from the back room. “I’m no more ruthless as a boss than anyone else in town, including you.”

  I rotated the cupcakes to face her. “These would go well with some tea,” I said lightly.

  Ruby laughed, her purple-red curls bouncing in every direction. She wore a plain cream blouse under a smart-looking leopard print vest. Her skirt was purple, matching her purple-framed reading glasses.

  She waved for me to follow her, back through the doorway. I walked past the filing cabinets and on to the secret tea room. Ruby pushed over a stack of invoices and a sleek laptop on the round bistro table nearest the circular window. While I sat, she took the box of cupcakes over to the kitchenette and started filling the kettle.

  I gazed out the window for a moment before checking the photos on my phone.

  Ruby returned with hot tea and cupcakes, artfully arranged on a platter.

  “You have good timing,” she said. “I needed to take a break anyway.” She patted her laptop, which wore a protective cover the same shade of purple as her glasses. “I don’t know about this technology. It used to take much longer to do the bookkeeping the old-fashioned way, with the paper ledgers, but what have we done with the time we’re saving? Pile on more work, that’s what.”

  I asked, “What else are you up to on that laptop?”

  “More like what am I not up to.” She opened it and turned the screen to face me as she did a run-down of all the social networking sites she was involved with. There were a few I hadn’t even heard of. Ruby was on all of them, posting inspiration photos and style tips. The woman was thirty years older than me and more up-to-date than most people my age.

  “Wow,” I said. “You make me feel like a slacker.”

  She pursed her full lips. “I seriously doubt that.” She poured two cups of Earl Grey tea. “Well? You didn’t come here for computer tips, so let’s have it.”

  I blew over my hot tea and asked, “Who do you use for monitoring your cameras? I’m planning to upgrade the security at the gift shop.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “I’ll have to look them up. I can’t remember the name, but I’m sure they’re in the local phone book.”

  I nodded, set my tea down, and leaned across the table to show her the picture I’d taken at the pawn shop.

  “Ruby, I believe this panther charm is from your store. Murray Michaels was selling some smaller items through a pawn shop in Port
land.”

  “Yes,” she said heavily. “I figured as much.”

  “But you never talked to the police because you don’t have any security footage of him stealing, do you?”

  She gave me a guarded look. “What makes you say that?”

  “All three of your cameras are dummies. The third one is more convincing than the others, but your employee left a feather from her duster on the lens the last time I was here, and it’s still stuck up there.” She didn’t respond, so I continued, “A lot of retail theft is done by employees, so you lie to your workers, to trick them into thinking they’re being watched.”

  “It’s for Hayley’s own good,” she said.

  “And what else is for her own good?” I asked. “Why are you being so tough on her?” I waved my hand at the other bistro tables. “And what exactly have you been getting up to back here, anyway? Last time I was here, you kept saying we. Who is this we? Are you going to tell me, or do I have to figure it out the hard way?”

  Ruby sighed. “I make young Hayley clean all the display cases, then when she’s not looking, I put fingerprints on from the inside and make her clean again.” She sat up straighter in her chair. “That young woman needs to be in high school. We are in agreement that she needs to quit this job and get her education. We know she’s on the run from something, but that’s no excuse to throw your life away.”

  I picked up my tea and waved for her to continue.

  “The Secret Tea Room Ladies are a group that meets here,” she said. “We try to set things right, but in an unobtrusive way. If a person needs help but is too proud to ask, we might arrange for a door of opportunity to open at exactly the right moment. People are stubborn. They usually have to believe it’s their own idea.”

  “Were you trying to help Mr. Michaels?” I asked.

  “Not very well,” she said sadly. “We hadn’t gotten past the evidence-gathering stage. The panther charm was sort of a trap. There are only two of them in existence, and I put one out when he was in the store, hoping he’d take the bait.” She frowned as she gazed at the street beyond the round window. “We wanted to see where the items were going, so we could present everything to the police and then get him some help for his compulsions. One of our ladies has connections to excellent psychiatric support, but of course we couldn’t get him to take it if he wouldn’t admit to having a problem.”

  “It sounds like your group does good work,” I said.

  “We try,” she said. “We were making progress with Murray and thought we had plenty of time. Then he went and got himself killed. And we don’t have the foggiest idea by whom.”

  “No theories?” I asked. “Not even any little suspicions?”

  She looked down at the cupcakes. “Nope,” she said, one eye twitching behind her glasses. “Nothing I’d want to concern you with, anyway.”

  I touched my finger to the round window. “Is this really soundproof? I’d like to share something with you but just between the two of us.”

  Her expression brightened, and she pushed her purple-framed glasses up her nose as she leaned in.

  I told her my theory, and when I was done, the look on her face told me everything I needed to know. Well, almost everything.

  Chapter 39

  I emerged from Ruby’s tea room to find her young employee cleaning the top of a display case furiously, her cheeks red and her forehead shining with sweat.

  I leaned over and commented, “Those fingerprints are on the inside.”

  “How would they get in there?” she sputtered. She opened the case and cleaned the inside. This time, the fingerprints came off easily. She took a step back and put her hands on her hips, breathing heavily and looking very much like a person on the verge of quitting. Just one more nudge, I thought.

  “You and your sister live in my friend Jessica’s building,” I said.

  She gave me a sullen look. “Yeah? So?”

  “Harper told me why you’re in Misty Falls.”

  “Great,” she said sarcastically, every bit the rebellious, moody teenager. I worried that no matter what I said, she was going to find me old and out-of-touch. If Ruby hadn’t been able to crack her, what chance did I have?

  Ruby had sent me out with the remainder of the cupcakes in their original box. I set the box on the counter again and opened it.

  “These are all yours,” I said.

  She muttered a thank-you and shoved one into her mouth.

  “Your sister must really care about you,” I said.

  Around the mouthful of cake and icing, the girl said, “She wants me to go to school, but high school is boring.”

  I picked up the spray bottle. “More boring than wiping fingerprints off stuff all day?”

  She frowned. “I dunno.”

  “Do you have any hobbies?”

  She shrugged.

  I kept going, asking, “Do you play any musical instruments?”

  “The guitar but not really. I only know five chords.”

  “They’ve got a fantastic music program at the high school. I was in the school band, but there are less geeky options, too. We’ve got a lot of talent here in Misty Falls. Maybe you could get yourself into a local band.”

  “Really?”

  “You might want to learn more than five chords.”

  She gave me side-eye. “You’re not just saying that to trick me into going to high school, are you?”

  I shrugged. “You got me. The high school pays me a bounty for recruits. Sometimes I drive around neighboring cities in a van covered in candy.” I let my expression turn serious. “You should call the school’s office, or just show up and ask for a tour. I could even go with you, if you’d like. I wouldn’t mind saying hello to some of my favorite teachers.”

  “Hmm.” She pretended to be more interested in licking the frosting off a cupcake than in what I was saying.

  I walked over to the window and made a palm print on the smooth surface. “But I can understand how high school doesn’t measure up to the thrills and chills of wiping fingerprints off these windows.”

  I left a dozen more streaky handprints before leaving her to think about what I’d said.

  Outside, I turned the corner to find a redhead in a hot pink jacket checking her hair in the round mirror.

  Jessica gave me a big smile. “I love that you live here now, and I can just bump into you. What are you up to? You look a bit lost.”

  “Lost?” I laughed. “Maybe a little bit.”

  She closed the distance between us and linked her arm through mine. “Don’t be lost. Let’s go window shopping. I’m meeting my friend Marcy at the Golden Wok later, but I have the whole day off. Are you free? You’re invited to dinner with us, of course.”

  I checked the time. Shopping and eating a big meal were the furthest things from my mind, but it would still be a few hours until I could do what I had planned.

  “Sure,” I said. “You can show me the sights. Since I look lost, you can be my tour guide. Pretend I’ve never been here before.”

  She tugged on my arm and, without hesitation, began the tour. “Over here is our beautiful Central Park. Some people call it Central Bark, to distinguish it from the one in New York, and also because it’s usually full of dogs, and people in small towns love their puns.”

  “Oh, dear,” I said with mock horror. “If I stay here much longer, will I start loving puns?”

  “It’s just one of many exciting transformations you can expect. Don’t fight the quaintness, Stormy. Let it steep through you, and everything will be fine.”

  Laughing, we crossed the street and made our way toward the park.

  For the next few hours, we enjoyed the mild winter day, walking through the park and then shopping along Broad Avenue. We stopped in at Blue Enchantment, where, with Jessica’s squealing encouragement, I bought everything off the mannequin again.

  We had a late lunch that turned into an early dinner at the Golden Wok with some other friends of Jessica’s. I cou
ld have sworn I wasn’t hungry, but then the sweet and sour chicken balls came to the table, and my mouth actually watered for them. As I stuffed my face and laughed along with the group, I got a warm feeling that spread through my whole body.

  Maybe the feeling was contentment.

  Or maybe the Golden Wok put booze in my non-alcohol piña colada.

  When we parted ways, the droopy winter sun, barely brighter than the moon, was disappearing.

  In the expanding darkness, my fear grew, surrounding me in a cloud of whispering doubts.

  On the drive toward my destination, I considered calling Tony about a thousand times, but I could hear him mocking my theory, so I didn’t. I thought about calling my father to talk me out of my plan, but then a calmness washed over me.

  Sometimes, when you know exactly what you need to do, you can stand still in the eye of the hurricane.

  I pulled the car into the driveway of my house.

  My new tenant hadn’t stayed late at work. Logan Sanderson was already home, judging by the lights in the windows on his side of the duplex.

  With my purse on my shoulder, I stepped out of my car, silently reciting the first part of the prayer I’d heard my father say countless times.

  Lord, I ask for courage. Courage to face and conquer my own fears. Courage to take me where others will not go.

  I knocked on the door.

  Chapter 40

  Logan opened the door and did a double-take.

  “Surprise,” I said. “It’s me.”

  “The cute girl from the vet clinic,” he said. “And then from the Fox and Hound. Thanks for the drink the other night. I would have thanked you at the pub, but you seemed to be having fun with your girlfriends, and I didn’t want to intrude further.” He chuckled and looked down at his feet. “Actually, I did want to intrude, but I figured you’d shoot me down.” He looked up into my eyes. “What brings you to my door?”