Chapter 13
RICK
“Mr. Richardson, what are you doing out here?” Rick yelled. The moon slipped behind a passing cloud, casting a shadow over them. “It’s dangerous out on those rocks. Especially at night. And what’s that you’re holding?”
It was as though fear—or guilt—had frozen the man in place. His horn-rimmed glasses reflected the beam from Rick’s torch and his arms hung at his sides. In his left hand he held a long black cylinder about the size of a one-inch pipe. Cadman glanced down before turning back toward the bay. He raised his hand a few inches as a large breaker crashed immediately before him.
A wall of spray rode in on the breeze and Rick squinted through the mist. Was Cadman going to throw the object into the bay? “Stop! They’ll find it. This town has more divers than you can count. Get over here.”
A drizzle of mist settled around the man as he stared back at Rick. He sighed and took a step, but his foot slipped and he tottered for a second. He recovered his balance and hopscotched across the rocks until he stood on the paved walkway next to Rick.
“It’s my monopod. You know, a one-legged camera tripod. I laid it down when I was taking some sunset shots.” He shielded his eyes against the intense beam and cocked his head to the side. “Just forgot about it. No big deal, huh?”
“Sunset photos?” What a crock. “Those are my favorites,” Rick lied. “Can I see them?”
“Well, none of them turned out. I…deleted them.”
“Come with me. You have some explaining to do.”
Rick lowered the beam to Cadman’s chest and pointed it at the man’s back as they returned to the B&B. They entered through the kitchen and the moment he stepped inside, Rick realized how much bite the breeze coming off the bay held. He kept Cadman in front of him as they made their way to the dining room. Rick flipped on the light switch and squinted against the sudden glare.
“Nothing like going from dark to brilliant daylight to blind you, huh?” Cadman’s laugh sounded forced.
Rick indicated the four-seater table between them with the beam of the flashlight. “Put that thing down.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s not go crazy.” Cadman placed the monopod on the table, then buried his face in his hands. “I know how this looks, but it’s all perfectly innocent.”
Rick wasn’t so sure. He turned off the flashlight, but cradled it in his right hand just in case he needed some sort of weapon. Cadman had on a tan jacket with a blue-striped hood layered around the collar. Beneath his jacket, he wore a checkered flannel shirt and beneath that, a T-shirt. “You’re dressed like someone planning to spend a long night in the cold. I think there’s more to it than what you’re saying. Before he died, Jim Gordon and I were talking. He told me you broke up the business partnership. He said it cost the company a lot of money. Do you want to tell me your side of the story?”
Cadman stroked his chin and neck. He shook his head and smiled to himself before he spoke. “Figures he’d spin things so he’d look better. The truth puts me in first place for the ‘I Hate Jim Gordon Club.’ But you have to understand, everybody else here despised him as much as I did.”
“All I want is for you to tell me what happened.” It was approaching midnight, long past the time Rick wanted to let this guy dish on the others. The critical question was should he wake up Deputy Cunningham or not?
“It’s true, we were in business, but we never formed a legal partnership. And I’m not the one who ended things. He was. Well, technically, I did walk away, but he forced me out by plagiarizing my designs. He even had the audacity to take credit for my work with Nike. Everything I’d done, he sold under his name. The man committed fraud.”
“How so?”
“Jim and I worked on contract with Nike. We were a couple of kids playing with shoes and making tons of money at the same time. Everything blew up when I left on my honeymoon. I met my wife in June of last year. We were married after a whirlwind romance. Jim was even the best man at my wedding. Nancy and I booked a two-week cruise to get away. The timing wasn’t good because of a big deal in the works for a new design I’d come up with. It was revolutionary—that’s what it was.”
“So everything was going your way. You were living the good life. You had a new idea, a new wife, and were taking off on a romantic honeymoon. What was wrong with that?”
“While I was sailing the ocean blue, Jim took my idea to Nike and sold it as his. He left me out of the negotiations. Never told Nike about me. When I returned, Jim informed me there was a new contract with them and I was now working for him. We had a big knock-down-drag-out fight. I got so mad I was going to sue. To make a long story short, my attorney said it would be easier to settle for a payout than attempt to prove fraud. We were dealing with intellectual property rights, and I had not signed the designs—which Jim had done in my absence.”
“Okay, so you hated him. Does that mean you committed murder?”
“Not a chance.” Cadman emitted a nervous laugh. “Since that day, I’ve envisioned myself bashing him on the head with a blunt instrument over and over until he admitted what he’d done. Or died. You could say when he stole my design and claimed it for his own, he also took my soul. I’ve been cold inside thinking about his betrayal. On top of it all, my wife and I are separated. She says I’m no longer the man she married. Of course I’m not. Jim Gordon drove a knife into that man’s back. I would have loved to return the favor.”
“Sounds like a solid motive.”
“Told you.”
“So you did.” Rick pointed at the black tube. It was about two feet long and an inch in diameter. Midway between a golf club and a baseball bat. Definitely sturdy enough to crush a man’s skull. “Is that the murder weapon?”
“I don’t know, but the truth is, I wanted that scum alive more than anyone else. He took everything from me, but I finally had what I needed for my case. I fired the incompetent jerk who called himself an attorney and got myself one with some smarts. You can call him. I’ll let him know it’s okay. With Jim alive, I stood a chance to recover the money I’d lost. With him dead I’m back to the beginning. How am I supposed to sue a dead man? What I really wanted was to have him suffer the humiliation of losing in court. His pain would have lasted a lifetime. Now, it’s over. The reality is I’m the last one who wanted him dead.”
“There are witnesses to the argument you two had this morning. The town mayor says she had to call the police to prevent a fistfight.”
Cadman laughed and plopped down into the chair next to him. “Yeah, we got into it. But there’s no way I could have fought him or anyone else. Whether I wanted to or not.”
Rick eyed Cadman while he waited for an answer. When it wasn’t forthcoming, he asked, “Why?”
The man raised his right arm until it was just below the height of his shoulder. At that point he winced and dropped it to his side. “I’m a swimmer, but I have a torn rotator cuff. Every time I push too hard, I get this excruciating pain right here.” He touched a spot on his shoulder, pressed it, and winced again. “A few months ago, right after my wife left, I was under so much stress I really threw myself back into my swimming workouts. I swam no matter how bad it got. By the time I broke down and went to the doctor, I’d messed it up good. I’ll have him release the report if you want. Fact of the matter is I can’t change a lightbulb if it’s above my head. And I couldn’t throw a punch if my life depended on it. So what are you going to do? Call the cops?”
“Your monopod will have to be tested.”
“Go ahead. Doesn’t matter to me. I didn’t kill him.”
“Your prints will be on it. Your DNA, too.”
Cadman glanced at the monopod and shrugged. “It is mine.”
Rick pulled out his phone to take a photo of the supposed weapon. While he was framing his shot, he asked, “So if you didn’t kill Gordon, how did you know this was down there?”
“A little birdie told me.”
“I’m in no mood for coy, Mr. Ric
hardson.”
“All right,” Cadman huffed. “Let’s just say I remembered where I left it.”
Enough of this BS. Rick snapped the photo, then placed the call to Deputy Cunningham. He kept the phone to his ear as the line rang. “You’re not giving me much choice,” he grumbled.
A few seconds later, a groggy voice answered. It sounded as though Adam had been dragged out of a sound sleep. “Rick? Is that you? What time is it?”
“Sorry, Deputy, but this is official business. You need to come over here. We have a new development in the investigation. Cadman Richardson just turned up something very suspicious.”
Chapter 14
ALEX
June 18
Hey Journal,
I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Mr. Gordon. Did somebody kill him because he wasn’t a nice man?
I was looking out my window when Daddy came in with Mr. Richardson. I snuck downstairs to listen and heard them talking about Mr. Richardson being the killer. It’s not him, Journal. It can’t be cause he’s got a bad shoulder. He told my dad that, but I don’t think Daddy believes him. Besides, I know who the killer is. It’s that Miss Potok. She acts all nice with my dad, but she’s really not.
Deputy Cunningham almost saw me when he got here. I would’ve been totally busted. Later, they put Mr. Richardson in Deputy Cunningham’s car. He’s gonna get arrested and it’s totally unfair cause he couldn’t have done it.
Daddy and Deputy Cunningham are kinda stuck. They said they can’t get a warrant to find any clues. That’s gotta be why Daddy was so mad about me trying to get us invited to dinner with Mrs. Carter. It’s not a good time for distractions.
Daddy said he doesn’t want me to worry about him, but I do. Without my mom, we gotta look out for each other. Maybe Marquetta will know who else would be good for my dad.
Tomorrow, I’m gonna help solve Mr. Gordon’s murder. It’s gonna be super tense around here cause nobody’s telling the truth. That’s why everybody’s so jumpy. They’re all hiding something.
I’m gonna text Robbie. We can do what the cops can’t and check out the rooms tomorrow while everybody’s at breakfast.
Wish me luck!
Alex
It’s really quiet outside again now that Deputy Cunningham left. I hope my dad didn’t see my light on when he was bringing in Mr. Richardson, but just in case, I’m hiding under the covers to text Robbie.
—hey Robbie, u up?
—now - doh
—wanna help me
—what do u need
—doing spy work and need a lookout
—cool
—Be here @8
—k gotta go hear my mom coming
—nite
—nite
Chapter 15
RICK
Rick was dead tired. It was the middle of the night and the few minutes it had taken Deputy Cunningham to arrive at the B&B seemed like hours. The subsequent question-and-answer session dragged on like an endurance test even though it only lasted about twenty minutes.
The deputy took in Cadman’s monopod as evidence even though they really had nothing of any substance. Rick trudged upstairs thinking how predictable the end result had been. Cadman wasn’t under arrest, but the deputy had taken him in to give a new statement. The unspoken subtext? A pipe dream that Richardson would give in and confess. Not happening, thought Rick.
All he wanted to do now was check on Alex. There was no way for her to deny being up while he’d been outside with that stupid treasure hunter. Her light had been on and he’d seen it in the window. Rick opened the door and peeked in. Moonlight on the curtains cast a diffused white glow over the bed and carpet.
Alex lay on her side, rumpled covers over her but pushed slightly to one side. He slipped into the room, intending to pull down the shade and straighten the covers. As he stood by the bed, Rick looked over at Alex’s desk. Her phone wasn’t in the charger. He closed his eyes and listened to the murmur of her breath. After a few seconds, he smiled and opened his eyes. “You’re awake, aren’t you, kiddo?”
She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. “Daddy, how’d you know?”
“I saw your light earlier.” And her breathing hadn’t been nearly soft enough. Rick straightened the coverlet and sat on the edge of the bed, then stroked her hair. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light and his heart ached. What a tough day for a little girl. “Phone.”
She huffed and pulled it from under the covers. “Not fair.”
“You don’t need to sleep with it. What’s up?” There was definitely something going on with her. He could always tell when she had some sort of question. Of course, at ten years old, he shouldn’t be surprised.
“Is it normal to be jealous?”
Where had that come from? It definitely wasn’t the subject he’d expected. “Are you worried about Mr. Gordon?”
“Yeah. I don’t understand why someone killed him. Do you think somebody got jealous? Jealousy sucks.”
Even in the semi-darkness Rick could see her lower lip puckered into a pout.
“Are you jealous of someone, Alex?”
“Not me. Robbie Sacchetti.”
“Robbie? Isn’t he your best friend?”
“He is, but sometimes he gets jealous of the other kids. His dad’s been out of work since we got here.”
“That’s a long time to be without a job. When I graduated from college, I worked for a bank and saw a lot of people lose their homes. Did you ever consider that Robbie might not be jealous as much as he’s opening up with you?”
“I guess.” Alex shrugged.
The sadness in Alex’s voice weighed heavy on Rick’s conscience. “We’ve been lucky, kiddo, you and I. More than many others. In New York, I knew reporters who were always angry because somebody else wrote a better story. They blamed it on everything else except the most important factor of all, themselves. In Robbie’s case, his family has gotten some bad breaks. They’re holding up as best they can.”
Alex scooched up a little straighter and sounded hopeful. “Could we do something to help them?”
“It’s possible. We can talk about it tomorrow. Right now, you need to get some shut-eye.”
“Okay, but I still don’t get why somebody killed Mr. Gordon.”
“Neither do I, Alex. Murder never makes sense. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
“It’s not your fault, Daddy. Maybe somebody was angry with Mr. Gordon.”
“It’s possible, kiddo. Whatever the reason, I want to keep you away from these people as much as possible.”
“No!” Alex glanced toward her desk, then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please, Daddy, don’t make me go. I like it here.”
He hugged Alex in response, then eased her back onto her pillow. When he looked into her moist eyes, he realized how she’d interpreted his words. “I’m not sending you anywhere, kiddo. But, I am going to talk to Marquetta in the morning. One of us needs to be with you at all times until this murder is solved.”
There was a long pause as Alex seemed to consider what he’d said. He hated the idea of restricting her movements, but until the guests left or he and Adam solved the murder, it was the only solution that made Rick comfortable. He swallowed hard against a newfound fear. Was raising a child in a B&B really a good idea? All these strangers? People he didn’t know coming and going constantly?
There was a bit of a pause, then Alex’s face lit up in the moonlight. “Can I stay up here during breakfast? It’d be like camping out.”
The self-doubts eased and a little surge of relief rushed through Rick. If Alex was in her room and the guests were downstairs, he wouldn’t have to worry about her for at least an hour. He smoothed the soft cotton of the coverlet before making his decision.
“That would be perfect, kiddo.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
“Me, too, Daddy. Can Robbie come over for breakfast? We won’t be any bother.”
“S
ure, why not? That’s a great idea. You can call him first thing tomorrow.”
“I did—I mean, we were texting about it.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds like you two already have something set up. You sleep tight.”
Chapter 16
RICK
Rick came downstairs at 5:30 AM. The backs of his eyelids felt like sandpaper, his brain, nothing more than a mass of gray mush. He’d barely slept. Visions of Cadman Richardson’s guilt-filled face seemed to be everywhere, reminding Rick of how he’d caught Cadman red-handed in the process of retrieving the monopod. He had to be linked to Gordon’s murder.
The aroma of brewing coffee greeted Rick at the base of the stairs. Of course, Marquetta was already here. Thank goodness, because multiple doses of caffeine were the only way he’d get through this day. He shuffled toward the kitchen, blinking away the dogged urge to crawl back under the covers rather than face another human being—especially these treasure hunters.
“Wow. You look like you were up half the night. You must have had a rough one.” Marquetta crossed to the coffeemaker and poured a fresh mug. “Here. This should help. You feel like talking about it?”
Rick groaned. “Cadman Richardson. My turn for the you-won’t-believe-this story.” He gave a brief description of the midnight encounter in between gulps of hot, steaming coffee.
“You are correct, that’s a hard one to believe. Maybe you need more sleep. Your eyes don’t have their usual sparkle.”
He snickered. “I’m lucky they’re not glued shut. The other half of it has to do with Alex. Her light was on. I saw it from the shore, so I stopped in to see her.”
“Is she doing okay? She’s probably bothered by Mr. Gordon’s death, right?”
“More like worried I’m becoming an old—what’s the male equivalent of an old maid?”
A Treasure to Die For (A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery Book 1) Page 5