Dying for a Drive: A Senoia Cozy Mystery

by Susan Harper

  “It wasn’t leaking yesterday,” Charles spat.

  “Well, it is now,” Adam rebuked and attempted to clean the oil off his shirt. “It’s just an oil leak. Have someone look into it, and then we can talk.”

  Charles’s son nodded. “That’s perfectly reasonable,” he said and glared at his father. Charles glared back and harrumphed while walking behind the Cobra, grumbling to himself about spoiled rich kids and ungrateful sons. The young man rolled his eyes and looked at Felicity. “I’m Brandon Jones, by the way. I think we talked on the phone last week about the car.”

  Felicity stuck her hand out. “Yes, I remember,” she said as they shook hands. She took a moment to look him up and down and realized just how much like his father he really did look. She considered mentioning it, but before she could say much more, shouting was suddenly heard from the gazebo. She glanced up to see two local women, Monica Barns and Jesse Timid, going back and forth. She couldn’t make out everything they were saying with them screaming over each other, but what she could hear was pretty colorful to say the least. She put her hands on her hips, ready to go settle whatever feud had started.

  “They’re at it again, huh?” Charles laughed, nudging his son.

  “Shut up,” Brandon snapped, the scowl etching itself deeper into his brow. He exhaled with exasperation and started toward the women. He waved a hand toward Felicity. “Don’t worry, I’ll settle them down.”

  Adam rolled his eyes and hooked his arm into Felicity’s. “Come on, let the circus clowns handle this. Trust me, you don’t want to get into the middle of this one. Show me your shop; I haven’t seen it yet.” He marched her away from Charles, who was laughing while puffing on his cigar.

  She walked with Adam, but she unhooked arms as she glanced over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with Monica and Jesse?” She wasn’t majorly concerned, but she had a journalist’s ear for gossip. Besides, the two women had gotten particularly vicious, and if they kept it up, the cars weren’t going to be the only spectacle today.

  Adam laughed. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Kind of,” Felicity said with a grin, sensing something juicy was amiss.

  “That old creep, Charles Jones, catfished them both and they’re ticked off,” Adam said.

  “Catfished?” Felicity questioned.

  “You know, catfished. It’s when you pretend to be someone online that you’re not. He was chatting it up with them both, flirting and talking about how much money he had. Acting like some hot, young bigshot from Florida. Then he shows up, and, well, he’s just an old creep pitting two old friends against each other. When he wasn’t some sexy thirty-something, they both got mad at him and at each other. Apparently, they’ve been fighting for weeks over him, and now that he’s here… Well, you can imagine they’re pretty disappointed to realize they’ve been sexting with some creepy old pervert.”

  “Seriously? What kind of person does that?” Felicity questioned. “Monica and Jesse, I don’t know them well, but they’re pretty close friends, right? Why are they even fighting, though? It seems like they should be mad at Charles, not each other.”

  “I think they’re fighting over Brandon,” Adam said with a snort.

  “For crying out loud!” Felicity laughed. Some people never ceased to amaze her.

  After giving Adam a tour of the shop and then spending some time checking in on all of the car owners and speaking with Wanda about how the event was going, Felicity found herself heading back to the shop just as Jefferson was exiting.

  He smiled and stopped her. “Time for a break,” he said with a wink, letting her know he had someone inside watching the counter.

  “A break? I don’t have time for a break, Jeffrey,” she asserted, but he marched her across the street toward the local ice cream shop.

  “Oh, yes, you do. You’ve been on your feet all morning. You can take a ten-minute break and let me buy you some ice cream. Besides, while you’ve been running around, I’ve booked us two new events, and I say that’s cause for celebration,” he said and walked with a slight skip.

  “Jefferson, that’s great!” she said.

  The next thing she knew, they were sitting outside in front of the ice cream shop next to the elevator that led out into the street. The elevator let people into the office buildings on the second and third floor as well as into the basement area where a locally-owned Irish pub operated. The two of them sat together people-watching the crowd who had come out to enjoy the car show. “This event turned out really well,” Jefferson said. “This is the most crowded I’ve ever seen the car show. You did good, Felicity.”

  “Thanks,” she said and licked her ice cream cone. The cold wind that had been present that morning was gone, and the sun now beamed down on them. Autumn was like that in Georgia. The mornings were boots and scarf weather while come noon it was blistering hot, and you were wishing you had dressed a lot lighter while you ate your ice cream like it was mid-June.

  “You always do a good job,” he added. “Seriously, Felicity, you’re amazing. I don’t know anyone else who could handle this job better than you.” There was a shyness about Jefferson that day that Felicity hadn’t noticed before. She couldn’t figure out exactly what had him so flustered. “Listen,” he said firmly. “I have been wanting to ask you—”

  A loud scream made both of them jolt in their seats. A woman ran toward them from the elevator, her arms and legs shaking. “Call 911!” she shrieked, her eyes darting toward Jefferson, who had jumped up at the sound of the scream.

  Felicity stood as well, and she couldn’t help but glance toward the elevator from where the woman had fled. Through the glass door that led to the elevator, Felicity could see inside the opened door on the other side. There was a man lying completely motionless on the floor inside. For a brief second she thought she recognized the face of the man, but before she had time to react, the elevator doors shut and he was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Felicity sat in a chair near the entrance of the local police station, bouncing her leg nervously as she waited for one of the officers to address her. All of the witnesses had been gathered and taken to the station down the street from the murder scene. What sort of maddening, gutsy soul would commit a murder so close to a police station? The local police were swarming the streets, but from what she could tell, there wasn’t a single eyewitness to the crime, so they had no idea what they were looking for.

  She let her eyes dart around the precinct, trying to latch onto something that might help settle her nerves. She wasn’t exactly sure what that something would be, but part of her hoped she would find a group of cops suddenly rushing out of the cramped building to return moments later with all the answers the town needed. Instead, she saw almost every cop in town huddled in small groups around the precinct with furrowed brows, flitting their gazes between each other. It was clear they were still unsure how to take this. After all, Senoia was a quiet town, but a dead man in the elevator was less than quiet. It was practically cacophonous.

  Felicity began to wonder when her own interview was going to start when she saw the Chief of Police talking to a visibly upset officer. The chief pointed in her direction and the officer’s shoulders slumped in defeat. When he turned around, he had a prune-like grimace that Felicity immediately mimicked when she realized that the officer was Jack.

  As Officer Jack Huddleston made his way toward her, she cringed uncomfortably. Jack and Felicity had a rather colorful history. They had dated in high school, but Felicity had broken up with him after high school before going to college. He had not exactly taken it well. Now whenever they saw each other they couldn’t help but bicker. Felicity couldn’t even remember the last time they’d had a cordial conversation. He had a slight scowl as he approached and plopped down beside her to take her statement. “Got yourself into some trouble, huh?” he teased.

  “Knock it off, Jack,” Felicity warned. She crossed her arms. “What do you need from me?”

  “Just y
our statement. Tell me what happened,” he said. He whipped out a pen and a notepad. He clicked the pen open and tapped the pad, offering Felicity an expectant look she took as her cue to start talking.

  “I heard a woman screaming, so Jefferson and I went to see what was happening. We were having some ice cream at the shop next to the elevator. When I looked I saw a man lying in the elevator as the doors were closing. At first I thought he had had a heart attack or something, so I hit the elevator button to open the doors again. Jefferson and I dragged him out of the elevator to help, but he was already dead. Jefferson called the police, and here we are,” she said.

  “Do you know who the man was?”

  “Yes,” Felicity said. “His name is Charles Jones. He’s not from around here. Somewhere in Florida. He and his son Brandon came here to sell a car, and they put it in the car show.”

  “Do you know who was going to buy the car?” Jack asked.

  “Adam Fao, but I think he changed his mind because there was an oil leak, so it seemed like Charles might have lied about what sort of condition the car was in,” Felicity explained.

  “So you spoke with Charles earlier today before he was killed?”

  “Killed?” Felicity questioned. “Are you telling me that Charles was murdered?”

  Jack frowned. “I’m not saying anything. I’m just saying we are looking at all options right now until we know for sure what happened. His body is being taken to Newnan Hospital right now for an autopsy. Your friend Autumn works in the morgue there, right?”

  “Yeah,” Felicity said.

  “So you were saying you spoke with Charles earlier today?”

  “Mostly just about the car,” Felicity said. “I met him and his son Brandon.”

  “Do you have Brandon’s contact information? We need to let him know his father has been found. I’m not sure if he knows yet.”

  Felicity pulled out her phone to give him Brandon’s cell phone number. “So you just talked about cars?” Jack questioned. “Did you notice anything unusual about his behavior? Did he talk to anyone?”

  “Just Brandon and Adam…” Felicity thought for a moment. “He spoke with Monica and Jesse too… Um, he catfished them both.”

  Jack let out a slight snort. “Seriously?”

  Felicity crossed her arms. “Jack, none of this is funny.”

  “Quit acting like you got something up your backside, Felicity,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t talk to me like that, Jack,” she said. “It’s not funny. Someone’s dead, and you’re telling me that someone might have killed him. And you’re laughing because he flirted online with some girls we went to high school with?”

  He waved off the comment with a subtle chuckle. “Come on, Monica and Jesse both kind of had it coming. They were horrible in high school. You know they both went after Adam like a couple of gold-digging—”

  “That’s enough, Jack,” Felicity said. “Do you have any other questions for me or not?”

  Jack shook his head. “You don’t have to be a jerk toward me every time you see me.”

  “I’m not trying to be a jerk. You’re the one cackling like a moron over something serious.”

  “I’m the moron? You’re the college dropout,” he retorted with a hateful sneer. “What are you doing being a party planner anyway? Weren’t you going to school for investigative journalism? Couldn’t hack it, right?”

  “Are you kidding me, Jack? At least I went to college.”

  Jack stood. “Whatever, Felicity. You’re done here.”

  “I’m waiting on Jefferson,” she said.

  He raised a brow and looked at her suspiciously. “Are you two dating?”

  “Excuse me?” she barked.

  “You and your assistant. Wasn’t he a freshmen our senior year?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Felicity snapped. “No, we’re not, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business. That jealousy thing is one of the reasons you and I were never going to work. Go do what you need to do to figure out what happened to Mr. Jones.”

  With a final huff, Jack Huddleston made his way to the opposite end of the station. While waiting for Jefferson, Felicity decided to roam about the station. A number of people from the car show were present, including Wanda, who was looking rather faint. She stood near the front door, gripping a cup of coffee. “Are you all right?” Felicity asked.

  “I’m okay. This is supposed to be my last year doing all of this planning for the city. I was sort of hoping to go out with a bang but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Wanda shook her head.

  Felicity knew how she felt. This was the first gig of this incredible opportunity that Wanda had given her, and she’d really hoped to make the best of it. In her mind, today was supposed to be smooth and elegant, the perfect passing of the baton, but instead the stranger who’d come into town to sell his car was dead and the whole town was in a silent panic. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew it didn’t bode well for anyone, and she couldn’t help but feel partly responsible.

  “So where were you when all this went down?” Felicity asked, hoping Wanda had avoided having to see Charles directly.

  “The café on the corner,” Wanda replied.

  Monica and Jesse were both at the station as well, and she could see that the two women were being ushered into separate rooms for interviews. Felicity frowned, wondering if what she had said about the two women had caused them to be labeled as suspects. She certainly hoped not. They had not exactly been the friendliest of girls in high school, but she doubted either of them were capable of murder. Both women had been snobby cheerleader types, and they had most certainly peaked in high school, but being desperate to bed a rich guy was not exactly a crime.

  Adam was present as well, and Felicity could see him in a corner speaking with the local sheriff; he looked a bit shaky. He had, after all, just been with Charles prior to his death. Could his jittery behavior be from nerves or guilt? Felicity shook the thought; Adam was a class act. She couldn’t imagine him capable of such a thing. There had been hundreds of people attending the event. It could be anyone, and that alarmed her terribly. There was a killer loose in her small town, and Felicity made up her mind that she was going to do everything she could to find out who was responsible.

  Chapter 4

  Felicity didn’t waste any time getting to work. As far as she was concerned, every second this potential killer went uncaught was time they could spend getting away, or even worse, add to the body count. She’d managed to get some decent information to start with and stretched her tired back from a long day of interviews. Jefferson had been manning the shop all day; he believed she was running errands for the business, but she was sure he had his suspicions. Instead, she had been across the street interviewing people who owned or worked at the businesses that used the street entrance elevator in downtown Senoia.

  A dentist’s office and The Senoia Enterprise Group shared the third floor of the complex; Bobby’s insurance company and a medical clinic were on the second floor; the elevator let out beside the ice cream shop and a boutique on the main level; and in the basement of the building was the local Irish pub. She felt that it was fairly safe to assume that Charles had been killed in one of those businesses; otherwise, someone would have spotted the killer moving the body.

  Bobby had introduced Felicity to Kirk Mont and Ryan Freeman, the two head agents at the insurance company. Both men had seemed friendly, and neither of them had been working at the time of the murder. The insurance agency had been closed for the car show, and only Bobby claimed to have been there at all that day to pick up some paperwork he had left and to enjoy the car show. The people at Senoia Enterprise told Felicity that the businesses had been closed that day, though they did let her speak to those who had key access to the building after hours. She put their names down in a notepad along with any other employees at the complex. She spoke with the staff at the medical clinic, the ice cream shop, and the b
outique as well.

  Her last stop of the day was the Irish pub. The owner’s wife, Cecelia, was present, and she was kind enough to print off a list of employees who had been working that day. “So what are you doing, playing detective, Felicity?” Cecelia asked somewhat tauntingly. She offered the petite brunette a wry smile as the woman wiped out a glass and hung it up neatly in the overhead rack.

  “Just trying to be of any use that I can be. I’ll be sure to send this over to Jack at the station,” Felicity lied slightly. She didn’t want to see Jack any more than she had to.

  “Well, I will say I was here that day,” Cecelia began. She put a finger to her chin and thought for a moment. “And I don’t recall anyone, employees that is, disappearing. They say that man was murdered, right? I got to say, there wasn’t much ruckus outside of some drunken patrons. Everyone who was supposed to be here employee-wise was.”

  “Do you think someone could have had too much to drink and got into it with Charles?” Felicity suggested.

  “Maybe,” Cecelia said with a shrug. “I can’t really say for sure, though. It was still early in the day when that man was killed, and it doesn’t normally get too crazy in here until late on the weekends. Then again, it was the day of the car show, so some people might have been treating it like a party.”

  “Do you think you could print off a client list?” Felicity asked.

  Cecelia thought for a moment. “Just of people who used cards, not cash.”

  “Anything could help,” Felicity said, and Cecelia proceeded to print off the information in the back office.

  Felicity thanked her and proceeded to climb the stairs and head out into the street; the elevator was still closed for the investigation, so all of the businesses were using their stairs to get to and from work. Having run out of people on Main Street to talk to, she headed back toward her shop where Jefferson was waiting. He was sitting behind the counter making a rubber band slingshot out of boredom when she entered. “Caught ya,” she teased, causing him to jump and mistakenly snap his fingers with the bands. He yelped quickly and stashed the rubber band below the counter before looking back up, sheepish and red.