Strawberry Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 13 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)

by Carol Durand

  Looking down at her captor, but still unable to see him clearly, Missy made a wide circle around him to get to the door, thankful that he was still unconscious. The door was open wide, the way that the evil man had left it, and Missy hobbled out of it, wishing desperately for strength and a drink of water. She saw a car parked in front of the tiny cabin and checked to see if it was unlocked. It wasn’t and there was no way that she was going back into the cabin to look for the keys.

  The smell of marsh assaulted her nostrils, and trying hard to focus, Missy tried to get her bearings. Apparently she had been held captive in the middle of a swamp. The thought of facing snakes, gators and other dangers of a Louisiana swamp was daunting at best, but the thought of taking her chances with the creepy man in the cabin was even worse, so she set off toward what looked like a stand of trees in the distance, hoping for some cover in which to hide and some signs of civilization.

  Chapter 13

  Adrenalin coursed through Echo’s veins as Frank Capetti advanced toward her with a determined grimace after dropping the smart phone into his pocket. Pushing against the sturdy man’s chest, she quickly sidestepped him and ran to the door, hoping that he was bluffing, but finding, unfortunately that he was not. The locks were fully engaged and couldn’t be opened manually. Leaning her forehead against the cold metal door, she felt him draw near.

  Coming up behind her, Frank spoke, his voice low and deep, in her ear, “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.” He grabbed her by the upper arms, his fingers digging into her flesh and spun her around to face him.

  “Oh really?” Echo was so furious that she ignored the pain of his grasp. “How about the lie that you’re just a laid back text book writer? How about telling me that you really care about me? How about dragging me out to the middle of nowhere and calling it a vacation? Did you tell the truth about all of those things?” she challenged him, throwing caution to the winds. “Just why exactly are we here, Frank? If that’s even your real name.”

  “Why are we here?” he gave a sinister chuckle, then thrust his face into hers, so close that she could feel the heat of his breath. “Because sometimes, I just need to disappear,” he growled, causing Echo’s pulse to race as she realized just how much danger she might actually be in.

  Frank raised his hand as though about to strike and fate smiled upon Echo in the form of a doorbell chime.

  “Echo, honey?” A sweet, feminine voice called out. “It’s Marilyn from SubLime Sweets – you left your address book at the shop when you were filling out your post cards.”

  Echo screamed, “Help meeeee! Call the po…” before Frank could clamp his hand over her mouth, and when he did, she banged her fists and kicked her feet against the door, hoping that Marilyn, the owner of a Key Lime Pie shop that she had visited, could hear her.

  “That was not a smart thing to do,” he hissed in her ear, his hand still covering her mouth, making it difficult for her to breathe. He had her hands pulled up behind her shoulder blades and propelled her into the kitchen, where he opened a drawer. Echo trembled and cried, hoping that he wasn’t reaching for a knife. He pulled a roll of duct tape out, tore off several strips with his teeth, and quickly bound her hands behind her, slapping a large piece over her mouth just so he wouldn’t have to listen to her pleas for mercy. Shoving her into a dining room chair, he taped her legs to the legs of the chair and left her there.

  “You’re actually lucky you know. I don’t have time to beat the attitude out of you because you opened your loud, stupid mouth and the cops will be here any second,” the man who had just the week before held her tenderly and spoken soft words of affection, sneered at her with utter hatred.

  Echo regarded him with big, tear-filled eyes that were wide with fear. He raised his hand to slap her and she winced, trying to shy away. He dropped his hand and laughed at her reaction.

  “Don’t think that this is over yet, little Miss Granola, because it’s not. Not by a long shot,” he threatened. Hearing sirens in the distance, he grabbed his pre-packed suitcase and ran, leaving the front door wide open. Nausea rose up within Echo, and she was terrified that she’d get sick behind the duct tape and drown. Fortunately, in a matter of minutes, four patrol cars pulled up and officers burst into the home, guns drawn.

  One apologized to Echo, instructing her to brace herself against the pain, and quickly ripped the duct tape from her mouth so that she could speak. “Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked, peering down at her as he worked to free her arms and legs. Echo nodded.

  “Just shaky,” she replied.

  “Is your attacker in the house, ma’am?”

  “No, he ran out the front door just before you guys got here. He’s driving a blue rental car.”

  The officer turned aside and spoke into a microphone attached to his shoulder, then resumed working on the duct tape. “Do you need an ambulance or medical care?”

  Echo shook her head. “No, he threatened me, but he didn’t do anything other than grab my arm and throw me around a little bit before he taped me up,” she explained, shuddering.

  “Did you know your attacker?” the officer asked, finally freeing her hands after carefully cutting through the tape with a knife.

  “Yes, although quite obviously not as well as I thought I did,” she said sadly. “His name is Frank Capetti.”

  The officer replaced the knife he had used in the holster on his belt and stared at her for a moment, then turned away again, walking a short distance away and speaking into the microphone. “Frank Capetti?”

  Echo nodded.

  “What was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Capetti?” he asked, searching her eyes.

  “I thought he was my boyfriend, but now it really seems like he was just using me,” she admitted, embarrassed.

  The officer looked at her with sympathy, then snapped a set of handcuffs on the delicate hands that he had just freed, telling her that she was under arrest for assisting a fugitive and reading her rights.

  Chapter 14

  Chas Beckett breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that Frank Capetti had been captured in Florida, and made arrangements to travel down personally to extradite him. He was sad to hear that Echo was also in custody, and alarmed that Missy was nowhere to be found. It had been his hope all along that when Capetti was located, his trail would lead the authorities to Echo and Missy as well. Something didn’t feel right about this whole thing, and Chas Beckett was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  “Where is she?” the typically cool-as-a-cucumber detective growled, getting in Frank Capetti’s face.

  “I told you, the last time I saw that chick was when she was nagging at me for being late, even though I wasn’t,” the prisoner shrugged, unmoved.

  Beckett slammed his hands down on the table in front of the seemingly unflappable Capetti and snarled, “You need me to refresh your memory, tough guy?”

  Detective Bernard Cortland of the Key West PD had been standing silently by, watching the interaction, but felt that it was time to intervene. Clearly Beckett had a personal interest in the missing woman, but Cortland wasn’t about to let him get out of hand. A loser like the one sitting in chains and orange garb in front of them wasn’t worth trashing the career of a good cop.

  “Alright, buddy, let’s take it down a notch,” he said in a low voice, placing a hand on Chas’s arm. The subtle reminder was all that the seasoned detective needed to return to his professional demeanor. Swallowing his fear and frustration, he sat back down, his sharp, cobalt-blue eyes narrowed as he regarded Capetti.

  “Get him out of my sight,” Beckett growled, never breaking eye contact with the professional criminal. Detective Cortland nodded to a uniformed officer who grabbed Capetti by the bicep and led him from the room.

  “What do you think?” Cortland asked Chas after the door closed behind the prisoner.

  He sighed deeply before responding. “I think he’s telling the truth. I think he actually has no idea where Mi
ssy is, which means I’ve been chasing him all this time when I should have been looking for someone else,” he shook his head, worried and drained.

  “What about the murder charges?” Bernard persisted.

  Chas shrugged. “I really don’t know. The evidence at the scene doesn’t match. If he did it, he was beyond careful, and I don’t know if we have enough to make a murder charge stick,” he admitted.

  “Isn’t there a witness?” the Florida detective asked.

  Nodding, Chas replied, “Yeah, there’s a witness, but all he saw was the perp in the vicinity of the scene around the time of the killing, he didn’t witness any actual interaction between the victim and the perp, other than an argument that they’d had earlier in the day, so even that’s weak,” he dropped his pen down on the notepad in front of him, frustrated, and rubbed his forehead.

  “You look like you could use a good night’s sleep,” Cortland observed.

  “Nahhh…just a couple of cans of cola – it’s what’s been getting me through the late nights for the last couple of weeks, no reason to quit now.”

  “Well, come with me. I’ll hook you up with a couple of colas and a computer and you can do whatever you need to do,” Bernard offered, heading for the door. Beckett followed, so tired he could hardly think.

  “Thanks, it’s going to be a long night.”

  Chapter 15

  Echo looked pale and thin in the baggy orange coverall that she wore, but brightened immediately when Chas walked into the interrogation room.

  “Chas! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see a familiar face. Are you here to take me back to Louisiana?” she asked as he sat down across from her.

  “Not yet,” he answered quietly.

  Seeing the look on his face, Echo knew immediately that something more than her arrest had gone terribly wrong. “Chas, what is it? What’s going on?” she asked, eyes wide with fear.

  Beckett drilled her with a glance. “When you and your criminal boyfriend disappeared, Missy was worried and went looking for you. She found your spare key, went in the house to look for you and hasn’t been seen since. There were blood spots on your bedroom rug and on your back porch,” he told her gravely, with more than a trace of accusation.

  “Oh no! Oh gosh, I feel awful. Poor Missy – we have to find her,” Echo exclaimed.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do ever since she disappeared. I was hoping that Capetti had taken her, so that when we found him we’d find Missy. Now I have absolutely no idea where to even start looking.”

  “What can I do to help?” Echo asked, worried.

  “You have your own troubles to worry about, I’m afraid,” Chas frowned, flipped through the papers in her file. “Frank Capetti has a rap sheet a mile long, and because you left the state with him when a warrant had been issued for his arrest as a murder suspect, you’ve been charged with assisting a fugitive.”

  “But I had no idea,” she protested, looking scared. “Frank just came over, told me that I needed to withdraw some money and that we were going to go on the vacation that we’d been talking about because he needed a break.”

  “Didn’t it strike you as odd that a man who had just accepted a second job suddenly needed a break?” Chas raised his eyebrows.

  Echo blushed and looked down at her hands. “I thought he was just saying that so that I would agree to drop everything and go on a romantic adventure with him,” she admitted. “I was so blind…”

  “It happens,” the detective said. “Capetti is pretty skilled at wooing women into doing what he wants and then hurting them.”

  “I found that out the hard way,” she replied, tears filling her eyes. “So who did he kill?”

  “A cameraman that had been working on the show. His name was Brad Parker.”

  She thought for a moment. “Oh, I think I remember him. Nice guy. How awful,” she shook her head. “But why would Frank kill him?”

  “There were witnesses who saw the two of them get into a mild argument about you on the day that he was killed, and later that evening, a witness placed Frank at the crime scene.”

  Echo frowned, remembering. “Yeah, Missy told me about that, but wait…Frank couldn’t have killed the cameraman,” she looked at Chas wide-eyed.

  “Why not?” the detective demanded, leaning forward.

  “Because when Frank left the cupcake store, he made his deliveries, then came straight over to my house and was…occupied for the rest of the evening. He couldn’t have been at the crime scene that night,” she explained, embarrassed.

  “Then why would a witness have come forward to place him at the scene?” Chas asked, trying not to sound suspicious.

  “I have no idea. Maybe he had a grudge of some sort against Frank,” she shrugged, honestly baffled. “Who was the witness?”

  “Leonard Koslowski,” Beckett answered, watching her carefully for a reaction. “Ring any bells?”

  Echo nodded slowly. “Yes, it sounds familiar, but I don’t know why. Do you have a picture?”

  “Hang on a second,” the detective replied, grabbing another file folder from his valise and paging through it. “Here we go,” he said, sliding an 8x10 across the table to her.

  Gasping and covering her mouth with her hands, Echo’s eyes flew open wide. “Oh my gosh! It’s Lounge Lizard Leonard!” she exclaimed.

  “Lounge Lizard Leonard?” Chas blinked at her.

  “Yes! He’s come by my store for ice cream every day since the day that I opened. He’s awkward and leering and makes me feel uncomfortable when he asks me out at least once a week. I’ve even noticed him following me into the cupcake shop and hanging around when I go over to visit with Missy, so it totally makes sense that he might be jealous enough of Frank to try to frame him,” she said excitedly.

  “But then, who killed Brad?” Chas asked, rhetorically.

  Echo answered him anyway. “Maybe Lounge Lizard Leonard.”

  Chapter 16

  Missy stumbled through the swamp, her vision finally clearing. She moved as quickly as she could, given the fact that she was weak with hunger and dehydration and was wearing canvas shoes that were definitely not designed for an adventure hike. Lightheaded and exhausted beyond belief, she focused on the stand of trees in the distance, hoping that once she got there, she’d be far enough ahead of her captor that she could take a bit of a rest, even if he had regained consciousness and was pursuing her.

  Jumping at every sound, and scanning the thick grass underfoot for the telltale movement of reptilian creatures, she avoided areas of standing water, trying to keep her feet dry. The puddles that she passed made her thirst even greater, and she hoped that somewhere among the trees ahead, there might be a house or business that could offer her safety and water. The sun beat down on her without mercy, making her trek through the damp, grassy land that much more miserable, and she felt her strength ebbing. She turned to look behind her periodically, to see if she was being followed, and her heart leaped into her throat when she saw a large male form staggering out of the doorway of the cabin, glancing around as though trying to spot his prey.

  Crouching down, she tried to move faster, the muscles of her thighs seizing and burning in protest. The man lumbered down from the front porch of the cabin and moved toward the swamp, clearly looking for a trail. Missy hadn’t had the time to properly cover her tracks, and once the dangerous stranger spotted some bent grasses and a footprint, he started down the path that she had left, moving much faster than she had, despite the head injury that he had suffered at her hand. Missy knew now that her life depended upon reaching the trees and finding a hiding spot. She didn’t have the strength to continue to run, but if she could reach the treeline, she might stand a chance of outsmarting her captor.

  Still trying as best as she could to stay low and move fast, Missy headed for the trees, glancing behind her every few feet to gauge how quickly the lumbering beast behind her was gaining ground. She zigged and zagged, hoping to confuse him, weaving in and out of
tall grass clumps and hoping that they provided some modicum of cover. The first stand of bushes and trees loomed closer, no more than the length of a football field away, and Missy felt a burst of hope surge through her, enabling her to pick up her pace despite her fatigue. She glanced back and realized that she didn’t have much time – her captor was moving faster than she was – she had to find a hiding place and fast.

  Making a beeline for the closest and thickest clump of trees, Missy found herself no longer able to avoid stepping in water. The entire area was soggy, with areas of standing water that grew larger the closer that she got to the trees. By the time she made it to the stand of trees, she was in water up to her knees, which provided good cover for her tracks but significantly increased the danger of animal encounters. Using the last bit of her pitiful strength, she grabbed a branch that was just above her head, held onto it for dear life, and walked her feet up the trunk of the tree until she could hoist herself up onto the limb. Once she had balanced on the limb, with her back against the trunk of the tree, she climbed higher, counting on the thick leafy cover to shield her from sight. When she reached limbs that seemed like they might be too small to support her weight, she positioned herself so that she was on the side of the tree that was facing away from her pursuer.

  Repeatedly glancing around the tree to follow his progress, Missy tried to focus on controlling her breathing. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure if the man came anywhere close to her, he would probably hear it. She had a few minutes respite, and was able to start breathing somewhat normally before hearing a splashing sound that made her heart speed up yet again. Hoping that the rhythmic whooshing that she heard was merely a water bird or some sort of animal gliding through the water, she slowly peered around the side of the tree, startled by what she saw.