Hazard in the Horoscope

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Hazard in the Horoscope Page 5

by Kari Lee Townsend


  Mitch’s office had stark white walls, a desk, a couple chairs, and blinds on the windows. No personal touches for safety reasons, but things went beyond that with Mitch. He tended to keep the world at bay, not liking to talk about his past. I had broken down many of his walls, but he didn’t even let me in fully. And that was another thing we needed to work on.

  Today was Friday. I’d kept my nose out of the case for longer than I had thought possible, mostly because I had been busy cheering Jo up and talking my mother off the ledge while she was making her inn repairs and dealing with my father’s bucket list and Granny Gert being “helpful.” Talking to Mitch was the least of all evils right now. Besides, it had been long enough for the police to have figured out which direction they were headed in. And if they hadn’t, then they would need my consulting services.

  I wanted to help even if it meant working side-by-side with Mitch. Funny how you could live with someone yet manage to hardly see them, but working a case together meant no escape from each other’s company. No escape was something we both needed in order to deal with the elephant in the room that was threatening our future.

  Mitch sat in the chair behind his desk with all sorts of notes and pictures spread out before him. He didn’t look any better than Cole, with his hair all messy, his clothes wrinkled, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deep with fatigue. He raised his head and stared at me with stormy gray eyes full of too many emotions for him to hide. His wide, full lips remained unsmiling, and a muscle in his whiskered jaw pulsed once beneath the long, jagged scar. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to.

  The look in his eyes said it all.

  In some cases, I had been too close to be of any help. In others, he had. This time it didn’t have anything to do with that. We were both equally close to Jo and Cole. No, this time it was personal. He didn’t want me working with him because work was his way of avoiding talking to me, same as Cole had done with Jo.

  Admittedly, I had allowed Mitch to get away with it because it was easier to go on as if nothing was different between us, and avoid the conversation altogether, but that would never do. We couldn’t get married if we weren’t on the same page, and neither one of us wanted to risk ending what we had built. What we had come to cherish. What we’d fought so hard to hang on to. The problem was we couldn’t stay engaged forever. At some point we had to either move forward or end things.

  But that day would not be today.

  I missed my best friend. Smiling tenderly, I walked over and took his face in my hands, then leaned down and kissed him full on the lips. “Hi, Mitch.”

  He smiled back tentatively, looking more relieved than he’d probably intended, but that was okay. We both needed this. “Hi, Sunny.” He pulled me down on his lap and wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on mine. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  “We still have to talk.”

  “I know. Can we focus on clearing Cole’s name first?”

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded so surprised and filled with hope, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  My heart melted. “Yeah,” I replied, turning my head and kissing him deeper this time, with everything I felt but couldn’t seem to say.

  Mayor Cromwell, Chief Spencer, and Captain Walker came into the room and caught us embracing. My eyes widened as I broke off the kiss, and I felt my cheeks flush crimson. I quickly stood up. Mitch shot me a conspiratorial wink, and then focused on the men, transforming into Detective Stone, aka all business.

  “Are you alright, Miss Meadows?” Mayor Cromwell shot Mitch an evil glare. The short, stocky man who looked like a wild, red-headed troll had never liked the detective, but he adored me. A true believer, he came to my office regularly for a reading.

  “I’m fine.” I smiled wide, smoothing a hand down the front of my sweater and peasant skirt. “You all just startled me.”

  “I can see that.” Chief Spencer, who was an older version of Mitch, looked me over with disdain. He, on the other hand, was not a fan of me.

  “Well, now that we’re all recovered, let’s try to figure out what we’re doing here, shall we?” Captain Walker, who liked both of us, came to the rescue, thank goodness. He was tall and lean, with a bald head, a gray goatee, and about as fine a cop as there was. His only downfall was that he had a huge sweet tooth. He polished off the last of Granny Gert’s cookies with a satisfied grin as he closed the door behind him.

  Granny Gert was his number one fan.

  “The last thing we need is for the Rebel Riders to pick up where their leader Gunther Corp left off and start leaning on our local business owners.” Mayor Cromwell heaved his stocky frame into a chair and shook his head. “Divinity can’t take any more bad publicity.”

  “I’m more concerned about my kids being safe.” Chief Spencer crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I’m all for standing by our own, but what do we really know about Cole West, other than he does fine work?”

  “I can vouch for Cole, Chief,” Mitch said.

  “I hate to say this, but can you really, Mitch?” Captain Walker interjected.

  “If he can’t, I can,” I piped in. “I know Cole doesn’t have an alibi, and he certainly has motive, and his gun is missing. But we don’t know for sure that his gun is the gun that killed Gunther. What we do know is that Cole is the husband of Joanne Burnham, and we all know Jo. She is a great judge of character and would never marry—let alone bear the children of—a man who was capable of murder. I think we need to trust our gut on this one and find the evidence we need to clear his name.”

  “I think you’re right,” Captain Walker agreed, and for the first time since I entered Mitch’s office, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Then where do we start?” Chief Spencer responded.

  “Well, I think we start with the deceased. Who did Gunther have as enemies?” Mitch thumbed through his notes. “For instance, who was Ray Simone? We know he was his right-hand man, but what else was he? All I know for sure is he was in town and with Gunther right up until the afternoon he died.”

  “Then I say we start with him.” Chief Spencer looked around the room as if he dared anyone to say otherwise.

  I had to bite back a grin. He might not like me, but I loved him for always having my fiancé’s back. Mitch could do no wrong in his eyes, and that was fine by me.

  “I agree,” I chimed in, but only got a narrowed suspicious glance in response.

  “Thanks, babe,” Mitch said, and I could have kissed him right then and there. He shot me a look full of gratitude and promises to come. “I’m pretty sure Simone has left town, but first thing tomorrow morning, I will talk to him.”

  “So long as you take Miss Meadows with you,” Mayor Cromwell interjected, not one to be left out.

  Mitch looked at me with a penetrating gaze as he answered with, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Mitch and I pulled into the parking lot of the Divinity Hotel later that day. Since my mother’s inn wasn’t open for business quite yet, we figured we would start looking for Ray at the only hotel in town.

  Divinity was an old-fashioned town with big Victorian homes and businesses that showcased different eras throughout history. There were newer buildings popping up here and there as the town grew and evolved, but the older buildings held tight to history and tradition, resisting change of any kind.

  This hotel was one of the oldest businesses—a large brick building a few stories high, with a patio on the rooftop so the tourists could watch the seasonal parades and festivities down below. The hotel itself was small but quaint, decorated in an Art Deco style from the 1930’s, which was inspired by the artists of Paris.

  We walked through the front door into the streamlined, polished look of the lobby. There were pieces of lacquered wood furniture, combined with brushed steel, and lined with exotic Zebra skin upholstered material scattered about the lobby. Exotic green and orange starburst m
otifs with small amounts of black and gold arranged in geometric shapes covered the floors and walls.

  The fireplace was the focal point of the room. A combination of oak, walnut, and mahogany was used to create the mantel, because these types of wood were easy to carve. The contrasting grains of each wood only added to the design. A beveled mirror was built right into the center of the design, surrounded by hand-painted tiles, while carved beading, flowers, and leaves lined the frieze.

  Chuck Webb owned the hotel. He was a stocky man of about fifty, with brown hair cut military-style. He’d had a problem with alcohol, but his wife, the younger Abigail Brook—who used to have a crush on Mitch—had married and reformed the hardened man. She’d blessed him with a baby girl, and the darling child had her daddy wrapped around her sweet little finger. I clung to the fact that if someone like Chuck could come to adore fatherhood, then there was hope for Mitch as well.

  Abby and I would never be friends, but we’d been through a lot together and had become amicable acquaintances. I was thrilled for her that she’d finally found her happy ending. I smiled and waved as she stood behind the front desk with the baby in her arms, and a pang of longing hit me unexpectedly. My throat clogged up with emotion, making it hard to swallow, and I actually had to blink back tears.

  “You okay?” Mitch asked, as we approached the desk.

  I nodded, pointing to my throat. “I swallowed my gum by accident,” I managed to get out.

  He nodded his understanding, accepting my excuse without hesitation. Either he genuinely believed my explanation or he understood the real reason behind my reaction, by the way I’d been staring at that precious bundle of joy, and this was yet another avoidance tactic. Fine by me. I couldn’t handle a conversation of that nature at the moment any more than he could.

  “Hi Abby. You look great.” I pasted on a pleasant smile. “Motherhood agrees with you. She’s getting so big.”

  Abby beamed, her mousy brown hair and no makeup a thing of the past ever since her cousin had given her a makeover, which had done wonders for her confidence. “Thanks, and I know, right? Don’t blink or they’re off to college. That’s what everyone says. I never believed them, but she’s growing so quickly every single day. Time is going by so fast. I’m trying to enjoy every second.”

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Webb.” Mitch eyed the baby with a mixture of wariness and horror, dashing whatever sliver of hope I had felt moments ago. He cleared his throat. “Is your husband around?” He swiftly changed the subject.

  “Sure thing, Detective. I’ll get him from the back.” Abby disappeared inside the office behind the desk.

  Shortly after, Chuck walked out, leaving Abby and the baby behind. He had a protective look on his face as he stared suspiciously at Mitch. “Detective Stone, I can’t say I’m happy to see you, as seeing you usually involves trouble. I can assure you I’m an honest man now. I have my Abby to thank for that.”

  “I have no doubt about that, Mr. Webb.” Mitch pulled out his notebook. “This visit doesn’t concern you personally.”

  “Congratulations, by the way,” I interjected with a sincere smile. Sometimes Mitch didn’t have a clue.

  Chuck’s whole face lit up. “Thank you, Miss Meadows. I’m truly blessed.”

  “Yes, you are. Why, I was just telling Mitch—”

  “That we need to act quickly before this town is turned upside down with locals and outsiders wanting answers,” Mitch cut me off, his meaningful stare screaming, Stay focused and keep this investigation on track, Tink!

  “Ah, I heard about that biker gang leader named Gunther Corp getting shot. Can’t say it’s a shame. I heard he was demanding money from local businesses in exchange for his protection. Or in other words, in exchange for him not trashing their place.”

  “He definitely wasn’t a stand-up guy, that’s for sure, but no one deserves to be murdered. It’s my job to find his killer.”

  “Good luck to you. All I know is, as a local businessman myself, I couldn’t have afforded paying him off to make him leave me alone.”

  “Did he make threats to you?” Mitch asked, with a fair amount of suspicion in his tone as he jotted down a few notes.

  “No, thank God, and even if he had, I’m not a killer. And just in case you don’t believe me, I have an alibi for that day during the bike expo. I was here the whole time, dealing with a full hotel.”

  “No one’s accusing you of anything,” I hastily reassured Chuck, shooting Mitch a glance that said, You might not like babies, but chill out, Grumpy Pants, or we won’t get any information, and then your best friend will be screwed!

  “Good, because the last thing I or my family need to worry about is to go through being a suspect in a murder investigation again. We have our daughter to think about now, and that’s all either of us is concerned with.” His voice rang with sincerity. “Besides, as far as I know, Gary’s Hardware was the only business hit.”

  My gaze met Mitch’s. As much as I liked Gary, desperation could make a man do things he would never normally do. I wasn’t letting Cole West take a fall for anyone, no matter how stand-up the guy normally was.

  “I’ll look into that.” Mitch made another note in his book. “In the meantime, what can you tell us about Ray Simone?”

  “Well, he stayed here at the hotel. Corp never did. Not sure where he stayed, but Simone seemed more of a solo act. When they were together, they acted like they were a team. Yet after Corp was murdered, Simone didn’t seem upset in the least. And he never pressured me for anything. Just before he checked out, I heard him on the phone telling someone to round up the Rebel Riders for a meeting, like he was the new man in charge or something. He said something about there were going to be some changes.”

  Mitch sent me a look, and I knew we were on the same page. If Ray was the new leader, maybe he had killed Gunther and tried to pin it on Cole to make that happen. That was motive, and he certainly had access. He claims to have gone to the men’s room before joining Gunther outside, only to find him dead, but no one could verify that. Ray was the one to call the police, but that didn’t mean anything. He never personally pressured any businesses, and kept his distance in where he stayed, almost as if he knew Gunther was going to die and didn’t want to be linked to the crime in any way.

  “Did he say where he was going when he left?” Mitch asked.

  “No, but he left pretty quickly, like he didn’t want to risk being brought in for questioning or anything. I’m guessing he probably went back to whatever hellhole he came from to lie low. And to rally his gang.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Webb.” I held out my card, and Mitch raised an inky black eyebrow to which I ignored. “Give me a call if you can think of anything else.”

  “Will do.”

  Mitch and I walked outside and stopped on the sidewalk. “Well, what now, Boss?” I smiled up at him, knowing exactly how to play the game.

  He stared down at me. “So now I’m the one in charge?”

  “Of course.” I fluttered my lashes innocently.

  He just shook his head on a slight grin. “I know a detective in Stillwater. That’s the town the Rebel Riders are based out of. I’ll give him a call.”

  “Why call, it’s so impersonal and not nearly as effective.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “As effective as what?”

  “Road trip,” I hollered, and jumped into the passenger seat of his car.

  “That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”

  6

  Saturday morning, we left bright and early for the Stillwater Police Department. Stillwater was another small town, much like Divinity, about an hour away up north. Northern New York wasn’t as strictly policed as central New York. The further you got away from the Big Apple, the more remote things became.

  Gunther had been an inmate when Cole first met him back in his wild and reckless days. Now that we knew a little more about Gunther, it had only been a matter of time before he caught up with Cole again to
seek his revenge.

  “Any luck on finding Cole’s gun?” I asked from the passenger seat of Mitch’s car, holding my hands out in front of the heater to warm them up. Lake-effect snow was falling in big fat flakes the farther north we drove.

  “No.” Mitch sounded bleak. He ran a hand through his curls, still damp from his morning shower, and sighed. “With no alibi and plenty of motive, the only thing saving him is the missing murder weapon. At this point I almost hope it doesn’t turn up. At least until we find some more leads.”

  “Hey, wait, you just passed the police station!” I watched the building disappear through his back window.

  “We’re not going to the station.”

  “How come?”

  “Detective Torres is in the mood for coffee,” Mitch’s eyes met mine, “and a little privacy.”

  “Interesting. What do you think it means?”

  “That whatever he has to say, he doesn’t want his coworkers hearing.”

  We didn’t speak again until we reached our destination on the outskirts of town. Mitch pulled up in front of a small diner and cut the engine. Given that the weather was terrible and this place was off the map, it was pretty much dead. Mitch led the way inside, and I followed. The diner was small but cozy, and the aromas of eggs, bacon, and syrup filled the air. We came to a stop at a corner booth and sat down across from a tough looking man with thick, black, slicked-back hair, and a dark goatee.

  “Detective Torres, this is Sunny Meadows, a consultant to the Divinity Police Department.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Meadows. Please call me Juan.” He set down his cup of steaming coffee and held out his hand.

  I slid my palm against his and shook while smiling wide, liking him already. “Likewise, Juan, and it’s Sunny to you.”

  The waiter came by and Mitch ordered black coffee and a western omelet with a side of sausage and toast, reminding me Granny Gert no longer lived with us. The poor man was starving unless he ate out. I, on the other hand, was too nervous to eat. I ordered a cup of chamomile tea, wishing it would settle my stomach. All my hopes were riding on this visit, praying for a new lead.

 

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