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A Taste of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 1)

Page 8

by Alaine Allister


  Liz, the woman who had been crying the funeral, sat behind the reception desk. She was on the phone and she looked frazzled. When she held the receiver away from her ear and grimaced, Clarissa understood why. She could hear a male voice shouting on the other end.

  That wasn’t the only shouting.

  Bellowing was also coming from the hallway just off of the reception area.

  “Where’s my money? I want it now!” someone hollered from behind the closed office door.

  The muffled sound of a male voice could be heard, presumably trying to reason with the yeller.

  “I don’t care!” the man screamed. “Just get it! You haven’t heard the end of this, Burke. If you don’t have my money in full, with interest, by this time tomorrow you will be sorry!”

  The office door flew open and a red faced, furious looking middle aged man stormed out.

  A moment later, Adam Burke exited the office. His shirt was slightly rumpled and his tie was askew, giving him a dishevelled appearance. He looked weary and beaten down. And, when he saw Clarissa and Parker standing there, embarrassment flickered in his eyes.

  “Some people think investing in the stock market is a get rich quick scheme,” he offered with an exhausted half-smile. “I hope you two are having a better week than I am. Have you been helped yet?” he asked, glancing over at Liz and seeing she was on the phone.

  “No, um...I think she’s a bit busy,” Clarissa said as delicately as she could.

  Liz looked relieved when she saw her boss standing there. She put her hand over the phone. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Burke, but I have Mr. Smith on the line. He’s wondering if you’ve had a chance to –”

  “No,” Adam replied immediately, chuckling in a manner that suggested he was at the end of his rope. “I most certainly haven’t. You would think clients would be a bit more understanding given what we’ve been dealing with here this week,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “I also had a message from Chase Preston while you were in your meeting,” Liz said.

  Adam’s demeanor immediately darkened. “What did he want?”

  “He offered to come in and help. He said given what’s happened he imagines you’re bogged down with Jed’s – I mean Mr. Black’s – workload, plus your own. He said he’ll come in and volunteer his time until you get caught up.”

  “Absolutely not,” Adam said. “The last thing I need right now is to have to babysit an intern.”

  Parker cleared his throat, apparently getting impatient.

  “Ah yes, what can I do for you two?” Adam asked, remembering that Clarissa and Parker were still standing there. “I hope it’s nothing time-sensitive. We’re pretty bogged down now that...” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “You weren’t client’s of Jed’s, were you?”

  Liz, now off the phone, abruptly stood up.

  “Excuse me,” she said, sounding choked up. Then she hurried off down the hall.

  “Sorry about that,” Adam said, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but there. “This has been pretty tough on everyone. I presume you two have already heard that my business partner passed away.”

  “Yes,” Parker nodded.

  “We’re very sorry for your loss,” Clarissa chimed in. “Were you and Mr. Black close?”

  “He was my long-time business partner,” Adam replied. “We didn’t always see eye to eye, and Jed didn’t necessarily have a reputation for being easy to get along with. But he was good at what he did and I respected that.”

  Clarissa looked around. Noting that Liz the secretary had yet to return after getting emotional and running off, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but could you tell me where the ladies’ room is please?” she asked innocently.

  “It’s down at the end of that hallway,” Adam replied, nodding in the direction Liz had headed.

  While the two men stood there and talked, Clarissa made a beeline for the ladies’ room. She was hoping that was where Liz had disappeared to. She was also hoping that if they talked one-on-one, maybe the distraught secretary would open up to her.

  Chapter 09

  As soon as Clarissa stepped into the upscale, spa-like washroom, she heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing coming from one of the stalls. And one look under the door at the mile-high stiletto shoes confirmed that it was Liz the secretary in there crying.

  The reporter in Clarissa wanted to pump her fist in triumph...but that seemed awfully callous. It seemed like the sort of insensitive thing Cat would do if Cat was a human. The last thing Clarissa needed to do was start mimicking the behavior of her unwanted houseguest!

  Instead of acting like a jerk, Clarissa approached the bathroom stall with caution.

  She tapped lightly on the door.

  “Liz?” she called softly. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Liz sniffled, even though that obviously wasn’t true.

  “Want to talk about it?” Clarissa asked, crossing her fingers that the answer would be yes.

  “No,” Liz replied, much to the reporter’s disappointment.

  “Are you sure?”

  The stall door opened.

  “No,” Liz said, wiping tears from her face. “I mean yes. I don’t know.”

  “You and Mr. Black must have been awfully close,” Clarissa surmised, treading carefully so as to not make Liz shut down. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I guess he must have been a really fantastic boss, huh?”

  “Not really,” Liz admitted. “He could sort of be a jerk.”

  That seemed to be the consensus about Jed Black. No matter who Clarissa had asked, she had gotten the same story: the mayor hadn’t been a very nice guy. But the secretary’s answer nonetheless surprised Clarissa. She supposed she had been expecting a much different response given the young woman’s emotional state.

  “If Jed Black was a jerk, then what has you so upset?” Clarissa asked curiously.

  The young woman hesitated. It seemed she wanted to open up to Clarissa but wasn’t sure doing so would be a good idea. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch who you are? Why are you here and why are you asking so many questions?”

  “Honestly? I’m a reporter,” Clarissa replied. “I don’t think Bonnie Black killed her husband, so I’m trying to find out what actually happened. And you ought to know that right now, you’re at the top of my suspect list.”

  Coming right out and saying that was a risky move, no doubt about it.

  But Liz didn’t seem like the savvy, deceptive type. As mean as it was to say, Clarissa doubted the pretty secretary was really capable of thinking on her toes and coming up with a convincing lie. So she took a chance and put Liz on the spot, eager to see how the young woman would react to being accused.

  Immediately, Liz’s eyes widened.

  “You don’t mean...you don’t think I had anything to do with Jed’s murder, do you?” she gasped. She looked like she was about to either throw up or fall over. Either she was the most amazing actress on the planet or she was truly stunned by the allegation.

  “Here’s what I know,” Clarissa said matter-of-factly. “I know you’re young, very pretty, and you just called your late boss by his first name. I know he was wealthy, successful and had a wandering eye. I think the two of you had an affair.”

  Liz’s jaw dropped and her face went as white as a sheet.

  Clarissa took that as a good sign so she plunged ahead, growing bolder.

  “What happened that night, Liz? I don’t think you planned on killing anyone. No, I think the whole thing took you by surprise. Maybe there was a lovers’ spat and you killed Jed in a fit of blind rage. Or maybe it was an accident…maybe his gun went off unexpectedly and the whole thing was a freak accident. Is that what happened?”

  Liz’s eyes filled with tears.

  That only spurred Clarissa on.

  “Tell me the truth, Liz. You killed Jed, didn’t you? Now you’re overcome with guilt over what happened. It all makes sense. You’re not a
bad person. You regret what happened. That would explain why you’re crying so much, wouldn’t it?”

  “No!” Liz protested feebly. “I didn’t do anything like that! It’s just...it’s just...”

  She broke down again.

  “Spit it out,” Clarissa ordered sternly. “Either you convince me that you didn’t kill Jed Black or else I’m going straight to the police. So unless you want to spend time behind bars, you had better start convincing me you’re not guilty of the crime.”

  She was completely, shamelessly bluffing, of course. The Sugarcomb Lake police were basically useless and wouldn’t recognize compelling evidence even if it smacked them over the heads. But Liz didn’t need to know that.

  “We – we did go on a few dates,” Liz admitted. “I knew it was wrong but he bought me nice jewelry and promised he would promote me to office manager. And now he’s dead,” she said, beginning to weep again. “Now I’ll never get that promotion!”

  “Wait,” Clarissa said in disbelief after picking her jaw up off the ground. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve been crying and carrying on because you’re not getting a promotion? Your boss was murdered and you’re upset because you won’t get promoted?”

  “The promotion came with three weeks of paid vacation. I wanted to go to Mexico!” Liz wailed.

  “You…wanted to go to Mexico?”

  “Yes! My stupid sister went to Mexico and she always gets to do everything!” Liz complained, sounding like a spoiled child in full-on tantrum mode. “When do I get to sit on the beach drinking sombreros?” she pouted.

  “Um, sombreros are hats. Or is that some kind of cocktail?” Clarissa asked.

  Liz stared at Clarissa blankly, clearly not following. “Sombrero is Mexican,” she replied. Then her lower lip began to tremble. “And now that I don’t get to be office manager I’ll never get to learn Mexican or drink sombreros on the beach!”

  The secretary’s pretty face once again contorted into something comically grotesque.

  As Clarissa stood there and watched Liz ugly-cry, she had to fight back the urge to giggle. Of all the things she had prepared herself to hear, she had never imagined that would be the secretary’s explanation for being so emotional.

  It was way too absurd to be a lie.

  No one would be stupid enough to lie about something like that!

  With a shake of her head, Clarissa turned and left the ladies’ room. She was wasting her time on Liz. But maybe her visit to the office could nonetheless be a productive one. She hoped Adam Burke was still feeling talkative.

  Unfortunately, what she found in the reception area was a pasty looking Adam sitting with his head between his knees. Parker was standing over him. He was looking down at Adam as though he couldn’t quite decide what to make of him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Clarissa overheard Parker ask.

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Adam assured him. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately, that’s all. Thank you, though. And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet with the two of you about whatever you came in for.”

  “It’s fine,” Parker said.

  “We’ll show ourselves out,” Clarissa added, grabbing Parker’s arm and practically yanking it out of its socket as she dragged him back out to the elevator. “Feel better!”

  “Ouch!” Parker hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. “What was that all about?”

  “What did you say to him?” Clarissa demanded.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you tip him off? You have to be discreet when you investigate,” Clarissa informed him, even though moments earlier she had been anything but discreet while talking to Liz. She didn’t bother to mention that part as it wasn’t relevant to the lecture she was prepared to launch into.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Parker interrupted. “I’m not the idiot you seem to think I am.”

  “Okay, sorry, that was out of line. But are you sure Adam isn’t faking being sick so he doesn’t have to talk to us?” Clarissa asked suspiciously. “It would be an awfully convenient excuse to get out of answering uncomfortable questions.”

  “Yeah, but he looked legitimately sick if you ask me. He was turning green.”

  Clarissa pursed her lips as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her head was spinning.

  “What is it?” Parker demanded, looking at her expectantly.

  “Quiet, I’m trying to think!”

  “Why don’t we go grab a coffee someplace quiet and talk this through,” Parker suggested as they got off the elevator and exited the building together. “We can compare notes and try to make sense of everything.”

  “You mean you don’t just want to stalk me instead?”

  “I wasn’t stalking you,” he protested as they walked out to the parking lot.

  “You kind of were. You were following me!”

  “Well yeah, but that’s not the same thing,” he argued.

  “Isn’t it?” she shot back as she pulled her car keys from her purse.

  Parker looked flustered. “Do you want to go for coffee or not?” he demanded.

  “Not,” Clarissa replied as she climbed into her car. “I need to get home,” she informed him. “Besides, I already told you: I work alone. You’re going to have to find someone else to compare notes with.”

  She stuck the key in the ignition and started her car.

  Then she happened to glance down at the dashboard.

  “Oh no,” she muttered.

  Parker leaned down to the open driver’s side window. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Clarissa fibbed. “Everything is peachy.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry or break something?”

  She sighed. “My gas tank is almost at empty and my uh....my wallet is at home,” she said, thinking quickly. She was too proud to admit that she couldn’t afford to fill the tank. She especially didn’t want to tell that to the guy whose newspaper had left her jobless!

  “Oh. Well that I can fix,” Parker said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out his wallet, extracted a crisp new twenty dollar bill and held it out to Clarissa. “Here. This ought to help you get back to town.”

  “I can’t,” she protested, refusing to take the money from him.

  “Why can’t you?” he asked, looking utterly confused.

  “I don’t want to owe you anything,” she admitted truthfully.

  “Then consider it a loan,” he shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Clarissa reached for the twenty dollar bill and then hesitated. She looked up at Parker, locking eyes with him. In the midst of all her indignation, she had really forgotten her manners. In fact, she had behaved horribly. Maybe Parker deserved it, maybe he didn’t. Either way, there was no excuse for how rude she had been.

  “I haven’t been very nice to you,” she told him sheepishly.

  “No, you haven’t,” he agreed. “But,” he added, “I suppose I didn’t make the best first impression either. You made it very clear you wanted to work alone and I kept pressing you to team up with me anyway. Sorry about that. I’m so fixated on rebuilding the Chronicle’s reputation that I can get a bit overzealous sometimes.”

  “Huh,” Clarissa said in surprise. “That was rather insightful.”

  He gave her a half-smile. “Don’t get used to it. That was probably a one-off,” he quipped.

  “Good to know.”

  “Are you alright getting home?” he asked. “Is your tank right on empty? Do you want me to follow you to a gas station to make sure you make it there okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Clarissa assured him. “Thanks for the loan. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “Uh huh, I’ll be lurking in the shadows behind you,” Parker nodded. Then he grimaced. “That sounded way wittier in my head. Note to self: stalker jokes always fall flat.”

  “Well not always,” Clarissa corrected him, m
aking a point of trying to be nicer. “Those of us with twisted senses of humor enjoy the occasional stalker joke.”

  “You have a twisted sense of humor?” Parker asked with a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, are you sure you don’t want to grab that cup of coffee?” he asked again. “I don’t know about you but I’m getting bogged down in all the details of this investigation. It might be helpful to talk things out.”

  “I’m not really a ‘talk things out’ kind of person,” she told him. “Sorry!”

  “It was worth a try,” he smiled. “Drive safe.”

  “See you around!”

  ***

  “Okay Cat, we need to talk this out,” Clarissa announced a while later as she marched into the living room. She kicked off her shoes, flopped down on the couch and waited for her new, not-so-welcome little companion to acknowledge her.

  The cat opened one eye and gave her a long, disdainful look. Then it rolled over on its head and went back to sleep on the chair it had claimed as its own. Clarissa couldn’t imagine that sleeping on one’s head was the least bit comfortable. But then again, no sense no feeling.

  “A lot of help you are,” Clarissa grumbled.

  This time the cat didn’t even bother to acknowledge her.

  “Fine, you hold down the chair and I’ll talk it out.”

  She picked up the notebook she had retrieved and prepared to jot down notes as she spoke.

  “Suspect #1 is Bonnie Black, Clarissa said to no one, since the cat was completely ignoring her.

  Clarissa glanced out the window toward the thickly treed forest, but she wasn’t focused on the view. Her mind was a million miles away. Tapping the pen against her chin thoughtfully, she contemplated all that she knew about Jed Black’s widow.

  Bonnie was the obvious choice. She would have had access to the murder weapon. And if one believed the small town gossip, it would be easy to jump to the conclusion that Bonnie must have wanted her husband dead. She was, after all, trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who was cheating on her.

  But maybe ‘trapped’ wasn’t the right word at all. Bonnie and Jed apparently had an arrangement. Bonnie helped him portray a certain image and in return, she got to live in his mansion and spend his money.

 

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