Hamburgers, Homicide and a Honeymoon (The Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Series Book 5)

by Sherri Bryan

  “Yes, that’s why she wears a hat so often,” said Cindy.

  Charlotte felt like she’d been smacked in the face as everything started to clear in her mind.

  Events that had been foggy and jumbled became vivid as she gained clarity of thought. She closed her eyes and, as she recalled the events of the day of Frankie’s death, Big Al’s words suddenly came into her head; “Sometimes you just gotta look at the bigger picture to see what’s going on right under your nose.”

  She gasped as she remembered the most vital clue—the one she’d unwittingly been keeping to herself for so long, which had been encouraged out by Cindy’s recent revelation.

  As she thought back to Penny and Owen’s barbecue that afternoon in London, everything became un-muddled.

  She’d been swinging back and forth in the chair and everyone had been chatting and laughing at Amy and Frankie’s dash to the hot tub.

  After that, everything had happened so quickly and so close together that she hadn’t been able to separate events in her muddled mind but now, they were crystal clear.

  When the swing had abruptly stopped swinging she’d heard a single, strangled scream amongst the laughter, immediately followed by the splash as Frankie had jumped into the tub. After that, everyone had been begun screaming as confusion reigned.

  Ruby had stopped the swing as she realised the man she loved was about to jump to his death.

  About to jump to his death.

  She’d stopped it before anything had happened. Just like she’d screamed before anything had happened because she knew the hot tub was dangerous.

  And the only reason she knew the hot tub was dangerous was because she’d made it that way.

  She would bet her life that Ruby Pitt had been the woman with blonde hair who the neighbour had seen.

  And why hadn’t she disposed of the screwdriver she’d used on the hot tub?

  Charlotte was convinced now, that she knew the answer. It was because of her OCD—“a place for everything and everything in its place,” her father used to say. Ruby had to put the screwdriver back in its box, along with all the rest of them, because her OCD forced her to. She must have been kicking herself when she realised she might have left traces of her DNA on it.

  “Oh my God!” Charlotte stood up, spilling her tea all over the tablecloth.

  “What is it? You haven’t got wind again, have you?” said Jess, jumping up with her.

  “No, no. What was it that Ruby said again? About being avenged?”

  “Erm, something about knowing that Frankie’s death will be avenged. Maybe tonight,” said Jess. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Look, we have to get hold of Nathan, or Ben, or Fiona or someone at the station. They have to get to Amy’s apartment. I’ll call Penny, you try Nathan.”

  “Well, I’ve got Ben here. What do you want me to tell him?”

  “Tell him to get hold of Nathan and get to Amy Baker’s ASAP or they’ll have another body on their hands!”

  ººººººº

  “Oh my! Just when you thought you were all cried out.” Amy wiped her face on her sleeve. “Have you got any more tissues?”

  Ruby opened her handbag. “Here, take the pack.”

  “Thanks.” She blew her nose and looked at her reflection in the mirror on her lipstick case. “Oh, gross.” She leaned against the window of the taxi and wrote ‘Frankie’ in the condensation left by her breath. As she watched it disappear in the light cast by the streetlamps, she began to cry again. “Oh, Rubes, I need a hug.”

  Ruby held out her arm and Amy snuggled down next to her. “That’s better,” she said, and closed her eyes.

  In the darkness of the taxi, Ruby’s lips curled in a smile as she stroked Amy’s hair.

  “There, there, Amy…I’ve got you now.”

  ººººººº

  “Rubes, you left your wedding and engagement rings in the bathroom.” Amy called out through the bedroom door. “I’ll leave them on the kitchen table, okay?” She ran downstairs, feeling a little better for having had a shower.

  She heard Ruby’s footsteps on the stairs. “I’m making a cup of tea—you want one? Ruby! Do you want a cup...” She turned to see her standing in the kitchen doorway. “Oh, you’re here. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  Ruby said nothing.

  “Look, I can’t imagine how upset you must be—you’ve lost Adam as well, haven’t you? Why don’t you come and sit down and let me get you a drink? What would you like? Wine, gin and tonic…oh no, better not with the meds. How about a cup of tea, then? We’ve got it all at Chez Amy, you know! Come on, sit down and I’ll keep you company. I’ll get a box of tissues ready and we can sit and talk about Frankie and Adam—it might make us feel bett…what’s that in your hand?”

  Ruby had changed into a bathrobe, the object she held at her side hidden in its folds.

  “What’s up, Ruby? You look a little strange, like…”

  “For God’s sake! Will you shut up and sit down!”

  Amy dropped into a chair immediately. “Ruby! You’re scaring me a little. What’s wrong?”

  “D’you know what?” Ruby sat opposite her. “I am so sick of hearing your voice, endlessly whingeing on and on about how you feel because Frankie died. About how your life will never be the same. About how close you were to Frankie. My God, you have no idea.

  “You’re a selfish, spoilt little brat, Amy. All you ever think about is yourself. As long as you’re okay, you couldn’t care less about anyone else, could you?”

  Amy’s eyes were like saucers. “Ruby, I’m sorry. I had no idea you felt that way. Please, I didn’t mean to be selfish. I should have been more sympathetic.

  “Of course, you’ve been upset about Adam, and I’ve not been much support, have I?”

  Ruby laughed. “Upset about Adam? Why on earth would I be upset about Adam? I killed him!” She raised the object in her hand above her head and brought it down on the table in front of her with a crash.

  Amy gasped when she saw the bronze statuette, bearing the plaque, ‘Triathlon Champion 2012’, the plinth on which it stood splattered with dried blood.

  “That’s the trophy from Adam’s stu…oh, no, Ruby. No…you didn’t? Not you?”

  Ruby laughed. “Yep, it was little old me.”

  “But how could it have been? You said you left home before Adam was killed.”

  “Yeah, I did. But then I went back again.” She ran her fingers over the statue, her eyes fixed on Amy. “I left early, hung around outside for a while and then sneaked back inside. When I heard Adam go upstairs, I crept into his study and took the trophy from his desk. Poor love, he didn’t know what hit him. Literally!” She laughed again and Amy saw that her eyes were dead and humourless.

  “Oh dear, poor Amy. You have no idea what all this is about, do you? You really have no idea. Think about it—think back to London. Who’s normally the first one in the hot tub? You. Every bloody year, it’s been you. Why couldn’t it have been you this year? It wasn’t supposed to be Frankie! Damn it, Amy—why’d you have to go and ruin everything?”

  Amy frowned as she contemplated Ruby’s words, her mouth falling open as the penny dropped. “It was you who tampered with the hot tub? You disabled the safety mechanisms?”

  “Yep. Me again. When you went to France with Penny, and the guys went off on their weekend jolly, I let myself into your sister’s house and borrowed the keys for London. Frankie and I had a fabulous weekend there…don’t worry; he had no idea what I was up to. He was sleeping when I rigged the tub. And you shouldn’t sound so surprised…when you know what you’re looking for, you can find information on anything you like on the internet. It’s easy—especially for a researcher, like me.”

  “You were the blonde woman? Oh, my God, we thought Elsie was imagining things. Even with you changing your hair colour every five minutes, we never, ever thought it could be you. And you rigged the tub because you thought I’d be the first one in? Why would you want to ki
ll me?”

  “Oh, come on, Amy. Why do you think? I’m sure you won’t have to think too hard.”

  The heat rose in Amy’s cheeks. “Because of me and Adam?”

  Ruby gave her a patronising round of applause. “Oh, bravo. Ten out of ten. What, you think I didn’t know? Don’t flatter yourself, love, you weren’t the only one. I knew about all his floozies. The rest didn’t bother me so much, though ‘cos they weren’t pretending to be my friends.

  “God, you make me sick—you act like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, but you think nothing of taking my husband to bed while you’re supposed to be a friend of mine. How could you do that? Did you honestly think I was going to let you carry on under my nose and do nothing?

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. I know how long you were having an affair with Adam. How do you think I felt when I found out, Amy? How could you have done that? How many times were we in each other’s company while you were having an affair with my husband? And how do you think I felt when I found out he’d bought you this apartment with our money?”

  A solitary tear forced its way out of the corner of her eye.

  “I’ve hated you for so long, Amy. But do you know what made me hate you most of all? I hated you for being able to grieve for Frankie when I couldn’t. Don’t you think Adam would have found it strange if I’d been too upset? I had to keep my emotions bottled up…you think these tears I’ve been crying since Adam’s death are for him? They’re not. They’re for Frankie. I loved him. We were supposed to be together. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Amy. I couldn’t even spend what turned out to be his last days with him, because Adam insisted on coming to London at the last minute and ruined it all.”

  “You and Frankie? What are you talking about?” Amy stared at Ruby. At her hand with its wedding ring finger without its wedding and engagement rings.

  It bore a tattoo that said, ‘We Are One.’

  Amy’s hand flew to her mouth. “‘Together…We Are One.’ It was you?! You were the other half to Frankie’s tattoo? Oh, Ruby, I had no idea. He wouldn’t tell me who it was. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t I tell you? Why do you think, Amy? Because Adam was so addicted to you by the time I fell in love with Frankie, it was as though I didn’t exist. Of all people, do you really think I would have come to you?” she said, incredulously. “Oh, believe me, I wanted to tell someone—I wanted to shout it from the rooftops but I had to keep it to myself. I tried to resist Frankie for so long, I really did, but, in the end, when I couldn’t make Adam love me, I just couldn’t help myself.”

  A knock at the door startled them.

  “Amy. It’s Chief Inspector Costello. Can you open the door, please?”

  “What’s he doing here? Did you call him?” Ruby hissed.

  “How am I supposed to have called him, for God’s sake? I’ve been sitting here with you.”

  The door opened slowly. “Ruby, it’s Penny. I’m not going to come in, I’m just telling you it’s me, okay? Is Amy okay?”

  “Yes, I’m okay, Pen! Please get me out of here.” Amy shrieked as Ruby raised the trophy above her head.

  “Ruby! Put it down.” Nathan stood in the doorway. “Put the trophy down.”

  “Why are you blaming me?,” said Ruby. “Amy’s to blame. If she hadn’t let Frankie get in the hot tub before her, he’d still be alive.”

  “But she’d be dead, wouldn’t she?” Nathan took a step forward. “Just like you’d planned. Now give me the trophy, Ruby.”

  For a moment, it seemed as though she was going to relent but then she ran at Amy with a cry, the bloodied plinth of the statuette swinging wildly as Amy dodged left and right to avoid it.

  As she backed her into a corner and raised the statuette one last time to bring it down on her head, Nathan launched himself at her from halfway across the room and knocked her off-balance.

  It took both Nathan and Fiona to restrain and cuff her, such was her strength. With her eyes wild and her breathing heavy, she spat and swore at Amy. “You’d better get used to looking over your shoulder, because I promise you, I’m going to be back to finish you off when you least expect it.”

  As Fiona Farrell prised the statuette from Ruby’s fingers, she said, “And I promise you, you won’t be back to finish anything off—not where you’re going. Not for a long, long time.”

  Nathan picked up the statuette and dropped it into an evidence bag.

  He had the result he’d been waiting for.

  He had Adam’s killer.

  He had Frankie’s killer.

  It was over.

  Epilogue

  “So, Ruby Pitt killed the tattoo artist accidentally and her husband intentionally? But she was in love with the tattoo artist? And her husband was in love with one of her best friends? And that friend was the intended victim in the accident that killed the tattoo artist? And the assistant who’d worked for Adam Pitt for years was the son he knew nothing about?”

  Garrett scratched his head. “Good grief, I’m glad I’m a fisherman, Nathan—it’s a lot less complicated! Talk about enough material for an entire soap opera season. And this one here figured it all out?”

  Garrett Walton hugged his goddaughter, taking care not to squeeze too tightly.

  “I keep telling her, she’s a natural—I could put her on a case right now and I bet she’d have the bad guys in handcuffs before some of the other officers had finished scratching their heads.” Nathan grinned.

  “And I keep telling you, stop putting all these crazy ideas into her head!” said Laura, wagging her finger at Nathan. “I prefer knowing that my goddaughter’s safe and sound, indoors and surrounded by people who love her. Not out pounding the pavements, having to deal with goodness knows what.”

  “Laura, I don’t think I’ll be squeezing myself into a WPC uniform any time soon, so you can stop worrying.” Charlotte gave her baby bump a loving pat. “And, even if I did want to join the force, which I don’t, I doubt I’d have the time for the next, oh, eighteen years or so!”

  “Well, that’s a relief, love,” said Laura. “I can’t help but worry sometimes that one day, we’ll take a walk down to the marina, find a ‘For Sale’ sign on the door of ‘Charlotte’s Plaice’, and you patrolling the neighbourhood on a police issue bicycle, in a pair of ugly police issue shoes, with a truncheon and a pair of handcuffs your only concessions to fashion accessories.”

  Charlotte giggled. “Oh don’t be daft! If I was going to sell up, you’d be one of the first to know!”

  “Well, I certainly hope you won’t sell up,” said Leo, whose lap was playing host to a very relaxed Pippin. “Harry and I would starve.”

  “Hear,hear! I’ll second that!” Harry touched his pint of beer to Leo’s.

  On a sunny July afternoon, Charlotte had opened the café for a private party. Garrett and Laura, Jess and Ben, Harriett and Leo, Ava, Betty, Harry and Aunt Lola had all been invited for a long, lazy lunch.

  She’d been struggling with being on her feet all day at the café, so the following Friday would be her last full day at work until well after the baby was born. Until she gave up for good, she’d be sharing the days with Laura—50/50.

  Before then, though, she wanted to make the effort to cook a delicious lunch for her friends and family and today was the only day that everyone could get together at the same time.

  “Hi, sorry we’re late!” Jess and Ben arrived with flowers, Champagne and sparkling apple juice for Charlotte. “I bought sparkling for a change so you don’t feel left out when we open the bubbly,” said Jess as she threw her arms around her friend’s neck.

  “Lovely, thank you! Ooh, and it’s chilled, too. Anyone fancy a glass of Champagne now? Yes? Right, can you do the honours, please Nathan. You know how useless I am at opening those bottles.”

  As the corks popped and the friends relaxed in each other’s company, they were warmed by the sun in the turquoise sky and cooled by the breeze that caused the o
rchestra of wind chimes that hung from the masts to tinkle and clatter. Better than any music, thought Charlotte, happily.

  “These burger appetisers are delicious, Charlotte,” said Betty. “Where did you find such small buns?”

  “I made them. I don’t normally make my own burger buns but I couldn’t find any that small and I just wanted the burgers to be bite-sized, so I made them.”

  “They’ve got a wonderful flavour,” said Harriett. “Not like anything I’ve ever tasted before. Very interesting.”

  “Good, I’m glad you like them. Right, I’ll just go and check on lunch. I won’t be a sec.”

  “Do you need a hand, dear?” asked Ava

  “No, I’m okay, thanks. You just relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “Well, if there’s anything I can do, just give me a shout. I’m very versatile, you know. I can turn my hand to most things.”

  “Okay, will do, but I’m sure I’ll manage.” Charlotte smiled and took her glass of non-alcoholic fizz into the kitchen.

  “Right.” She spoke to herself as she crossed off things from the to-do list on the counter. “Now let me see…starters are all ready, desserts are done. I just need to check on the turbot.”

  She rubbed her back—the twinges she’d experienced in the past had been bothering her again over the last few days but, although the pain was quite intense, it didn’t last long as the twinges came and went. In any case, at her check-up four days before, the midwife had told her that everything was fine so she wasn’t in the slightest bit worried about them.

  As she bent to open the oven door, she was overcome by the most intense pain she’d ever felt. She almost passed out it was so strong. She tried to straighten up but couldn’t. Her instincts told her this was no false alarm. This wasn’t wind or constipation. Doubled up and unable to move, she found her voice and shouted for help.

  “Nathan! NATHAN! Help! Someone, heeeelp! I think the baby’s coming!”

  ººººººº

  “Where is that bloody ambulance?” Nathan held Charlotte’s hand and dabbed her forehead with a cold towel. His forehead was creased with worry but he tried to keep calm for her sake.