Logan interrupted, “And her card has a hand-drawn snowman on it.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Flowers. But the flowers have faces, and they all have the same crooked smiles.”
“That’s not much to go on,” he said.
Wiggles shushed him. “Let her talk, Mr. Lawyer.”
“The other thing was Pam’s scarab brooch.”
They both nodded, and Wiggles asked, “And where did you find that?”
“I didn’t, but it may show up at the pawn shop Murray was using, or inside his house. You see, Pam claimed she hadn’t seen the victim since his appearance at my father’s party, and I remember that when I was leaving, I pulled on her jacket by accident. I made a comment about her scarab brooch, which she didn’t appreciate. But then this morning, she was sure that he’d swiped it. Either she was mistaken, or she had seen him after the party.”
“These are good clues,” Wiggles said. “Not exactly bulletproof as evidence, though.”
“That’s why I went in to get proof. I bluffed her by making her think I had information that would point back to her, and then I practically invited her to drug me with sleeping pills. I was going to bring the pills in as evidence, but then Mr. Not-So-Helpful over here knocked them into the tub.” I pointed to Jeffrey, who blinked innocently.
“Good cat,” Wiggles said, leaning over to pat his head. She cooed at him, “Your heart was in the right place, and you were trying to protect her.” To us, she added, “They know more than they let on.”
“At least I got her sketchpad,” I said. “Not on me, but it’s hidden in the neighbor’s mail. You’ll find some very interesting drawings, including one of a snowman in front of Murray’s house, dated before his disappearance. She may claim she wrote down the dates wrong, or that it’s just a coincidence, but that’s not bad for evidence, is it?”
“Not bad at all,” Wiggles said. “It certainly doesn’t hurt that we have her red-handed for trying to shoot you tonight.”
Logan leaned forward and asked, “Was anyone else hurt?”
Officer Wiggles shook her head. “Lucky for the boys, Pam was out of bullets by the time they arrived, and was packing a bag.” She took a breath and let it out noisily. “Which is good, for obvious reasons, but also because we can’t afford to have anyone out with an injury. I’m still a rookie, but I’ve been thrown into the deep end here. Between the snowman murder and complaints about the voodoo lady, I’ve been running around like a house mouse with a backpack full of catnip.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised. “Voodoo lady?”
“Nothing to be concerned about,” she said, tapping away on the laptop keys. “Let’s start again from the beginning.”
We went through the basics, with me slowing down to explain everything from the beginning, point by point.
Logan continued to sit in as my legal counsel and official junk food supplier. We left the door to the room open so that Jeffrey could prowl around the nearly-empty police station.
Officer Wiggles pulled up the previous statement I’d made, the one after I’d found the body, and we picked up from there. When I got to describing how goofy Jeffrey had been after his surgery, I got the giggles and kept apologizing.
“It’s good to laugh,” Wiggles assured me. “My cat keeps me sane. He loves playing table hockey, and when you described Jeffrey knocking the sleeping pill into the tub, I could see it clearly since my Peekaboo does the same thing. Mostly he breaks my favorite mugs.”
“What kind of cat?”
“A chubby ginger with a stubby tail. His name is Peekaboo because he actually plays peekaboo. And he hides in laundry baskets.”
“That is so cute! Do you have a photo?”
She did, and we took a few minutes to appreciate Peekaboo in all his ginger glory before returning to the serious business of finishing my statement.
Time passed, and while I didn’t see Tony, a familiar face in the form of Officer Gary Gomez popped in to say hello.
“Thanks for making us look bad,” Gomez said, grinning under his big mustache. “Just kidding, Stormy. I’m glad to see you continuing your father’s legacy for whipping this town into shape.”
I smiled tiredly. “You can have the next one,” I said. “This was a one-time deal.”
“Good,” he said. “By the way, your cat is working the Case of the Mouse Who Nibbled the Snack Room Crackers.”
“Will that be all?” Wiggles asked him with a tone of dismissal.
Gomez waggled his eyebrows at her and left without another word.
We continued with my statement until I was hoarse.
“We’re done, and it’s either late or early,” Wiggles said with a yawn. “I’ve got some spare shoes and socks in my locker that you can borrow to get home.”
“Thank you.” I looked down at my bare feet. My mind went blank. It had been a long night.
She excused herself and returned with the shoes and socks. I pulled them on while Logan made jokes about carrying me to my car. He was funny, but I was too tired to laugh.
Chapter 45
“It’s over,” Logan said as we walked out of the police station together. “You and your father are safe now, thanks to your detective skills.”
I held Jeffrey tightly as we walked out into the snowy parking lot. The sky was pink, casting a warm glow on our surroundings. The long night had passed. I was still wearing the ridiculous bathrobe I’d arrived in, but thanks to Officer Wiggles’ athletic shoes, I wasn’t barefoot in the snow.
We reached my vehicle, where I handed Logan the cat so I could punch in the keyless entry code for the door. When I turned back, Jeffrey had his paws around Logan’s neck and was rubbing his whiskered cheek against the man’s beard, as though it was a kitty grooming brush.
“Somebody likes me,” Logan said. “Go easy on the beard, Mr. Kitty.”
“His full name is Mr. Jeffrey Blue.”
“Good to know.” With a formal flair, he added, “I shall henceforth address my landlord by his full title.”
I pried Jeffrey away from his new friend and loaded him into the car. He snaked under the passenger seat. The crime scene investigators had put a makeshift plastic covering over my shot-out rear passenger window. I climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and lowered my window.
“Logan, thanks for everything. Let me know if I can ever repay you.”
“I promise I will.” He patted the roof of my car. “Get out of here now. I’ve got a new spot I like to drive to for the view, so I’m going to head there for a bit. It should give you thirty minutes, more than enough time to get settled before I show up.”
“I understand,” I said. “That’s always so awkward, when you say goodbye to someone and then you see them again right away.”
“Yeah, awkward.” He gave me a flirtatious, sidelong look. “After a night like this, you don’t need to be contending with the likes of me one more time.”
“That would be horrible,” I said.
He patted the roof again, turned and left.
I leaned over to peer under the seat at Jeffrey, who was all eyes in the darkness.
“We’re going home,” I told him. “By the way, I’m adopting you. Any objections?”
He had none. I sat up, clicked my seatbelt on, and started driving us home.
I clicked on the radio. The local station was playing the usual morning routine. I smiled as the joke-cracking host told his tall tales.
“Morning commuters, you’ll want to steer clear of the rush hour traffic in the downtown core. We’ve had some reports of a staggering three-car lineup at the red light by Ruby’s Treasure Trove. Ladies, if you need to check your hair and makeup while you’re driving, that’s what the rear-view mirror is for! You’re listening to the Misty Mountain Man’s Morning Mugga. It’s none of my business what’s in your morning mugga, but you should know mine’s full of herbal tea, brewed with the sparkling clear water of our own Misty Falls, plus a handful of the Mountain Man’s persona
l stash of special mushrooms. Coming up on the hour, we’ll have news and weather and a report on those late-night fireworks some of you heard last night. Spoiler alert: those weren’t fireworks. Stay tuned through this next song, and don’t you dare change the station!”
When we got home, Jeffrey prowled around his new home with his tail held high. He seemed to understand immediately that everything mine was now his. He trotted from room to room, rubbing his cheeks on anything with a corner.
We didn’t have any cat food yet, but I set out some canned tuna, and he seemed impressed. I already had kitty litter, left behind by the previous homeowners with a note that it was good for absorbing oil spills on the driveway. I used a plastic storage bin to set up facilities for Jeffrey, and then I brushed my teeth.
The cool-white sun of a winter morning was now streaming in the windows. I considered brewing a pot of coffee and staying up, but I couldn’t stop yawning.
I heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. I checked the time. I’d been home for exactly thirty minutes.
I walked down the hall toward my bedroom. The bed was crisply made with fresh sheets, and the room itself was welcoming. After being away for a few days, I appreciated all my things even more. I hadn’t taken much time to decorate, or even paint the walls anything other than eggshell cream, but the duplex had a vintage style I found comfortable.
I slipped off the bathrobe, tossed it in the hamper, and changed into a favorite pair of soft pajamas.
“Time for bed,” I called to Jeffrey.
He came running and jumped up on the bed, as though he’d understood every word.
“You can stay up if you want,” I said. “I was just letting you know that I’m going to bed.”
He gave me two slow blinks as he softened up my pillow with his front paws.
“That’s my side,” I said.
He stretched and settled down in the center of my pillow.
“Fine,” I sighed. “I guess I can make some allowances for the new man in my life.”
I walked around to the other side of the bed, pulled back the duvet, and climbed in. I set the alarm clock on my bedside table for five hours because I didn’t want to miss the entire day. I lay my head down, facing my newly adopted Russian Blue cat.
“Jeffrey, I have to ask you a question. Are you afraid of big spiders?”
In response, he yawned. His yawn crossed the species barrier and made me yawn, too.
I wondered, was Logan also drifting off to sleep in his bed on the other side of the wall? How would Jessica react when I told her everything? And what would Ruby and the other Secret Tea Room Ladies say?
Jeffrey reached out and gently bopped me on the nose.
“Sleepy time,” I said.
He let out an adorable cat-sigh and curled up fetchingly on the pillow. I curled my arm around him.
Sleepiness rolled up like a comfortable blanket of fog. My limbs grew heavy and warm. The tension I’d been holding for days in my neck and shoulders melted away.
I closed my eyes and started to drift.
Chapter 46
ONE WEEK LATER
Our Christmas-themed centerpieces were disappearing from the gift shop faster than we could unbox more.
“You’re a magnificent salesperson,” I told my employee during a quiet break, when it was only the two of us in the store.
“This is all you, Boss,” Brianna said. “Everyone’s coming in to see the person who single-handedly solved the town’s most notorious murder.”
“But once they get in the door, you’re the one who directs their energies toward purchasing home decor items and gifts.”
Brianna smiled. “That’s my job.” She tidied up the display of napkins and napkin rings. “How are things going with your tenant these days?”
“Logan paid his December rent on time,” I said.
“And?”
“And give it some time, girl! We thirty-somethings are not like you twenty-somethings. Some of us have a few city miles on our hearts, plus the baggage to go with it.”
Brianna gave me one of her sassy looks. “Well, when he does get around to doing something cute, you’ll have to let me know. I always need material for my webcomic.”
I shook my finger at her. “You leave me out of your webcomic.”
She gave me half a shrug as she continued tidying up the displays.
A minute later, Brianna asked, “Remind me again, who was the guy you saw taking photos next door to your father’s?”
“That was my real estate agent’s husband, Michael Sweet. He must have run off because he was embarrassed about moving in like a vulture, planning to pick the house up cheap at auction and flip it.”
“You should buy the house,” Brianna said.
“And live next door to my father?”
“Or flip it,” she said.
“I’ll suggest it to my father as a project for him. At the very least, we can put in a bid and make sure Michael Sweet pays market value.” I rubbed my chin and considered the idea for a minute. The property value was depressed due to the hoarded contents, not to mention being the site of a homicide. Then again, scooping up an investment the Sweets had an eye on would put the three of us on adversarial ground, and I liked working with his wife.
I found it funny that investments in Misty Falls were no less complicated than the deals I’d overseen at Fairchild Capital.
Brianna interrupted my thoughts. “I saw Chip yesterday,” she said.
“Who?”
“The mail carrier who works in your father’s neighborhood. The big guy who wears shorts all winter.” She held up a sunset-hued napkin. “He wasn’t quite this shade of orange, but his skin is showing signs of excess beta-carotene consumption. Since he’s my second-cousin, I figured I was within my rights to talk to him about it. He says he’s lost twenty pounds on his mostly-carrot diet, but he’s going to switch things up before he gets as orange as those things in the movie. Oompa Loompas.”
“He’d make a great Oompa Loompa,” I said. “You could put him in your webcomic.”
She quirked one eyebrow. “What makes you think I haven’t already?”
The door chimed, and Jessica came in. She pointed to my elbow, which was resting on a display rack. “Stormy, if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to get a coffee. Come on, it’s my treat.”
I turned to Brianna, who said, “Go! Get out now while it’s quiet. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“I’ll bring you back a mocha,” I promised.
“You’re spoiling me, Boss.” She held open the door and waved us out.
On the sidewalk, Jessica gave me a hug. Her bright red hair smelled of fresh cinnamon buns.
“Do you think you can handle House of Bean today?” she asked. “Chad’s working today.”
“Perfect,” I said. “There’s something I need to do.”
Jessica sighed, probably imagining the worst.
We walked into House of Bean. Chad took one look at me, and rather than puffing up like a pufferfish, he deflated. Waving one limp arm, he muttered, “Good morning,” with none of his usual enthusiasm.
“Hi Chad,” I said. “May we please have two of your fine Teeny Weenie Beanie Steamers? Mountain size. And a Choco Loco Hobo Mocha in a takeout cup.”
Chad’s eyes flitted between my face and Jessica’s. “Are you sure?” He pointed to a can of sign-painter’s paint on a counter by the wall behind him. “I’ve been thinking that our coffee names are too creative, and I was just about to change them.”
“Don’t you dare,” I said. “People can get a vanilla latte at any chain coffee shop, anywhere in the country, and it’s exactly the same. What makes Misty Falls special isn’t just the mountains and the beautiful four seasons, it’s the people and all the details. Please don’t change anything. I’m the one who needs to change, and that’s why I moved here. It would defeat the purpose if the things I did changed the town to be any different from how it is now, which is perfect.”
“Don’t change a thing,” I said.
He eyed me with suspicion as he prepared our beverages.
Jessica paid, and we took our seats at a corner table, where Jessica asked, “What you said to Chad, did you mean it?”
“Absolutely.” I took a sip of my Teenie Weenie Beanie Steamer and smiled. “I’m embracing small-town life, as of right now. This whole adventure I’ve had has given me a lot of perspective. People get so worked up about what others are going to think or say about them. Pam didn’t want people to know about the breakup. Creepy Jeepers wouldn’t tell the truth about his wedding band because he was worried about rumors. And I’ve spent way too much energy getting upset over the rumors people tell about me. From now on, I’m just going to be grateful that people talk about me because I’m part of something, part of this town.”
She nodded slowly. “So, you don’t mind that people say you walked away from billions of dollars?”
“It’s more interesting than the truth,” I said. “I did work in venture capital, and I was responsible for investing large sums of money in startup companies, but it was never my money. Fairchild Capital wasn’t even an angel investor. We used other people’s money to finance investments using a pool of money. The profit got reinvested or paid out to the investors. It never went to me, Stormy Day. Sure, there were some bonuses, and I did get paid nicely, but I would have gotten the same working for any other large company.”
She smiled. “Since you’re not rich, I suppose it’s a good thing you’re lucky.”
I laughed. “And don’t forget smart,” I added.
Stormy Day Mysteries 5-Book Cozy Murder Mystery Series Bundle Page 22