Chapter 8
Chas and Missy relaxed by the pool, glad to reconnect after what had been a busy week for both of them. The wedding guests were gone to the Pumpkin Patch for the day, so they had a rare opportunity for some much-needed couple time. Maggie was tidying up and preparing for the cocktail hour, since Spencer was gone with the guests, and the happy couple lounged in the sun, sipping sparkling water and chatting.
Chas asked how things had been going and Missy filled him in on all of the wedding drama.
“Kel must be loving this,” he chuckled.
“Oh yes, he’s having a gossip heyday,” Missy grinned.
“Has Echo made up her mind as to whether she’s staying or going?”
“Well, she hasn’t said anything, but she seems to fit in really well with a beachside lifestyle, so I’m hoping that she’s leaning more toward staying.”
“I hope so too – your world seems a little bit sunnier with her around,” he brushed a thumb over the back of her hand. “Have you seen Carla lately?” the gorgeous detective asked, referring to Missy’s friend and Interior Decorator.
“Not for a while, business is booming for her, but we’re supposed to have lunch next week sometime.”
“Just keep her away from poor, unsuspecting, Spencer,” Chas chuckled, knowing the decorator’s predatory practices when it came to men.
“Oh trust me, he’s been warned,” Missy replied with a smile.
“That young man has been quite the asset around here.”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “I don’t know how we managed without him.”
“It’s actually a bit of relief for me to know that when I’m working late at night, or out of town, that he’s here guarding the fort, so to speak,” Chas admitted.
“Well, it’s not like we live in a hotbed of dangerous activity,” his wife teased.
“I know, but it still makes me worry less about you when I’m not here,” he shrugged.
“You are the sweetest thing ever, you know that?” Missy mused, leaning over for a kiss.
“Shhh…don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a rep to protect,” he teased, kissing her back.
As usual, when the couple began to feel a little bit romantic, Chas’s phone rang, and of course, it was a number he recognized, from a police detective in a neighboring town.
“Duty calls,” he sighed, picking up the phone.
“Literally,” his adoring wife smiled as he answered.
She grew a bit alarmed listening to his side of the conversation.
“Beckett…”
“Nope, that’s out of my jurisdiction.”
“Wait, who was involved?” he sat up and reached for his towel.
“Okay,” he sighed heavily. “I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 9
“If you want to follow up on this one, I’ll be happy to let you be involved, since the victim’s temporary residence is in your neck of the woods,” Detective Martin Steinwell, of the Chapman township Police Department, told Chas upon his arrival at the Pumpkin Patch. He and Chas had worked together on a joint task force in a serial murder case, and had a great deal of respect for one another. It was more than a bit unorthodox to bring in someone from another town, but Steinwell would be glad to have the input of a well-respected and highly decorated detective on this somewhat unusual murder. He also had heard that the entire busload of people that were waiting to be interviewed, were guests at the detective’s bed and breakfast, and figured that Beckett would want to be in on as much of the investigation as he could be.
“What’ve you got so far?” Chas asked.
Steinwell shrugged. “Not much. Homicide, one stiff, no real suspects, a couple of persons of interest,” he replied.
“How sure are you that it’s homicide?”
“Ligature marks don’t lie,” Martin said. “The coroner’s office hasn’t picked him up yet, and there’s a bus full of hysterical people who need to be interviewed, so let’s go take a look at the scene,” he suggested.
Detective Chas Beckett followed him into the maze, to an area that had been cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape, where forensics techs were busily collecting evidence.
“It could take a long time to comb through this scene,” Chas frowned.
“Yup – it’s a perfect storm of contamination possibilities – high foot traffic, wind, and, if I’m not mistaken, it’s about to start raining on us,” Steinwell looked up at the sky, squinting.
The two detectives stepped inside the tape and made their way over to the body, taking care to disturb the immediate area as little as possible. Martin’s assessment had been correct, there was no mistaking the angry marks around Carlson Covington’s neck.
“Any defining fiber for the murder weapon?” Chas asked, squatting beside the corpse for a closer look.
“Not yet. The techs took some samples and photos. You should have that info by tomorrow, I’d think, depending on how fast my guys are.”
“Okay,” the detective nodded. “I wouldn’t mind combing through the statements of the folks on the bus when you wade through all of this,” he offered.
Steinwell looked relieved. “I’d appreciate it. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I’m up to my eyeballs in cases right now,” he admitted. “We’d have to be unofficial about it, of course, but any assistance that you could give would be helpful.”
“Send me everything, and I’ll see what I can do,” he said grimly, standing and looking to the sky as the first rain drops started to fall.
“You got it, Beckett,” Steinwell replied shaking his hand.
Chapter 10
The inn was as silent as a tomb as the rain poured down for the second day in a row, the gloom outside matching the pall inside as the wedding guests moved through the halls like ghosts.
Missy, Echo and Kel sat around their bistro table feeling the greyness of the day, and all were far more quiet than usual. Even the typically flamboyant artist was feeling mellow and spoke in a more somber tone.
“So, who do they think did it?” he asked, picking at a delectable Mango Madness cupcake.
“Well, they’re interviewing Lyle, the groom’s father right now. He and Carlson were always at odds with each other, so he’s the logical suspect. Spencer said that he’d been drinking before and during the trip, so it’s possible I guess,” Missy replied, stirring cream into her coffee. She usually took it black, but when the weather turned gloomy, the southern gal turned to comfort food.
“Doesn’t it freak you out a little bit, knowing that you may be sleeping under the same roof as a killer?” Echo shuddered.
“It’s just hard for me to believe. I mean, Lyle is a little bit rough around the edges, but you can tell that he really loves his son and future daughter-in-law, and he’s never been anything but sweet to me and Maggie,” she mused. “Besides, the owner’s wing is separate from the rest of the inn and I have Chas and the dogs with me.”
“My encounters with the father of the groom were cordial as well,” Kel interjected. “While coarse, he didn’t strike me as the homicidal type either.”
“Maybe it was just some random stranger,” Echo suggested. “I mean, in a setting like that, couldn’t it have just been someone who was sick and depraved?”
“Or someone who was trying to ruin the business out at Mitchell Farms,” Kel stroked his immaculately groomed white beard thoughtfully.
“I never thought of that,” Missy nodded. “But it makes sense. I wonder if the Mitchell’s have enemies who are trying to ruin them?”
“I’ll put my ear to the ground and see what I can find out,” Kel promised, finally taking a bite of his cupcake. “In the meantime, I think I’ll be attending afternoon tea and circulating among the guests.”
“Thanks Kel, you’re the best,” Missy smiled gratefully.
“Au contraire madam, I’m surrounded by the best,” he beamed at them both, raising his mug for a toast. They all clinked their mugs together, then finish
ed their morning brew in relative silence, staring out at the rain.
Kel had left to go work in his studio, because he loved the mood that the rain created, and Echo and Missy had just taken their empty cups to the kitchen, when Spencer burst in the front door of the shop, soaking wet.
Mrs. Beckett, you need to come over to the inn right away,” he said, dripping on the floor.
“What happened?” Missy asked, alarmed by the expression on his face.
“Mrs. Covington has lost her fool mind,” he said through his teeth.
“Oh geez,” Echo said, grabbing an umbrella out from under the front counter and handing it to her friend. “Here, take this, go,” she ordered. “Ask questions after you get there. Spencer, you stay right here,” she advised. “I’ll get you some towels.”
**
Missy ran the short distance between the tea room and the inn, taking care to make sure that Echo’s umbrella didn’t turn inside out from the light wind. When she reached the foyer, she could hear Kendra Covington’s strident tone, followed by Maggie’s softer, reasoned one. Taking a deep breath, determined to face the dragons that inevitably awaited her, she strode toward the dining room, where, at this hour, the guests should be eating breakfast.
“What’s happening here?” she said when she entered the room, whose occupants were all staring at Maggie and Kendra.
“This! This is what’s happening here,” the furious woman rushed over and started shaking a battered shoe in her face.
Missy glanced over at Maggie, baffled, as the poor woman trembled after being on the receiving end of a tirade.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand…” she said, ignoring the rudeness of the waving shoe, determined to keep the conversation civilized.
“That animal,” Kendra Covington spat with contempt, pointing the shoe at Toffee, the mild-mannered golden retriever who was currently cowering under a table in the Parlor. “That filthy, disgusting creature who should be living outside, ruined my running shoe,” she practically screamed in Missy’s face.
Missy began to simmer. She’d never been able to tolerate people who were unkind to animals, and to hear her furry baby referred to in that manner made her want to commit an act of physical violence, but she bit back her automatic response, and instead replied in a calm, controlled manner. “I’m terribly sorry about that, I’ll be happy to replace…”
“Replacing isn’t good enough!” Kendra screamed in her face. “This vicious beast needs to be put down, and the sooner, the better,” she shrieked, her face going red with anger.
Missy’s world stopped. Her sense of propriety stopped, and the slack she’d been cutting this vile woman because of her time of grief stopped. Despite being a refined woman of the South, who was raised well and knew her manners, when the petite blonde was pushed too hard and too far, she would eventually snap, and woe to the recipient of her wrath.
“Now you listen to me you wretched little snipe,” she growled, her southern accent becoming more pronounced with every word. “You have been rude, nasty and abusive to every person in this household from the moment that you arrived, and that’s fine, if that’s who you are. We’re adults, we can take it, but just know this…I WILL NOT, let me just repeat that for you, I WILL NOT, stand by and let you mistreat an innocent animal. What my Toffee did was wrong, I’ll give you that, but if you so much as make a move toward her or speak even one more word about putting her down, I don’t care how in shape you are, I will snatch you up by the hair and personally throw your smug little carcass out into the storm. Are we clear on that?” Missy hissed, her nose no more than an inch from Kendra’s.
“How dare you? Are you threatening me?” the irate woman demanded, not budging an inch.
“Oh honey, no,” Missy smiled dangerously. “That’s not a threat, that’s a promise.”
Chapter 11
Chas could tell that all was not well in his wife’s world when he walked in and saw her cuddled up in a blanket on the sun porch with a cup of tea, eyes red-rimmed, Toffee and Bitsy under the table below her.
“Hey tiger,” he said gently, settling onto the couch next to her.
“Oh Chas, I was awful,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Her husband took her hand and kissed her palm, then held it, running his thumb over her wrist. “Actually, from what Maggie tells me, you handled yourself pretty well, considering.”
“I’m so mad that I let that horrible woman get to me like that,” she sighed. “It’s just…she stood there, saying that she wanted Toffee to be killed because of a stupid shoe, and I just lost it.” Tears rolled down her cheeks at the thought of losing her beloved dog.
“Sweetie, look at me,” Chas instructed, gently tilting her chin up with his finger. “Everyone knows how much the dogs mean to you. She had no right to say what she did, and you just reacted to her hostility. While I agree that you probably shouldn’t make it a practice to threaten our guests with bodily harm,” he chuckled softly. “I think everyone in that room understood where you were coming from.”
“I’m so embarrassed. I suppose I should apologize…” she commented, making a face.
“Eventually, that would probably be the right thing to do,” her husband agreed. “But for now, let’s just give the unpleasant Mrs. Covington some time to cool down and return to her senses before you approach her again, okay?”
Missy nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. Do you have any idea how much longer they’re going to be here?”
The detective shook his head. “Unfortunately, Steinwell said they’re not making much progress in the case. I think I’ll have a little chat with Lyle Vance tomorrow and see what I can find out. Now, I want you to go in and take a nice warm bath, slip into something that makes you feel pretty, and I’m going to take you out to dinner.”
“Rewarding bad behavior, Detective?” Missy teased wanly.
“Sometimes ya gotta be bad to be good, Sweethawt,” Chas said, in a very bad attempt at Bogart. Missy giggled, which is just what her loving husband had wanted.
Chapter 12
Chas knocked on the door to Lyle Vance’s room in the inn with no idea as to what he’d encounter. He hadn’t officially met the welder before, and had thus far only seen and heard about his altercations with the victim and drunken exploits.
The pleasant-looking man opened his door and looked confused. “I didn’t order room service,” he joked.
“That’s fortunate, because I didn’t bring you any breakfast,” Chas replied, without missing a beat. “I’m Chas Beckett,” he stuck out his hand and Lyle shook it. “I was hoping that I might be able to talk to you for a little bit.”
The still befuddled guest shrugged. “Sure, why not? Let me just grab the room key,” he said.
The two men walked downstairs and headed for a table by the pool, enjoying the morning sun.
“What can you tell me about Carlson Covington?” Chas asked, signaling Spencer to come to the table when the young man walked by.
“Not much, really. We weren’t exactly pals, as you know,” he said wryly.
“Yeah boss, what can I do for you?” Spencer had jogged to the table from the other side of the pool.
“I’d like a coffee, please. Lyle, would you like something?”
“I’ll take a spicy tomato juice if you’ve got it,” Vance said.
“Yes sir,” Spencer responded. “Coming right up.”
“Seems like you two didn’t exactly get along well,” the detective continued, when Spencer left to get their drinks.
“Ya think?” Lyle chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, Carl didn’t have much respect for a working man like me. Hated it when I called him Carl too,” he mused. “Thought his daughter was too good for the likes of my son, but I tell ya, that boy always did good in school, worked hard, and right now he makes more in a year than I’ll ever make in a lifetime. It’s a shame too…Chelsea’s a good girl with a good head on her shoulders – he shoulda just trusted her judgment.”
Spencer returned with their drinks, setting them down and turning to go.
“Hang on there a minute, son,” Lyle said, reaching for his wallet.
“Oh, sir, there’s no need,” the young man began to protest.
“Nonsense,” the welder insisted. “Thank you for your service, Marine,” he insisted, handing Spencer a twenty and shaking his hand.
“Thank you, sir,” the young man said, humbled by the gesture. “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked the two men.
“Nope, we’ll take it from here, Spence, thanks,” Chas replied.
“Tell me about what happened in the corn maze,” he encouraged, turning back to Lyle.
Vance sighed. “I know I had my issues with the man, but I didn’t kill nobody,” he shook his head and took a slug of juice.
“Take me through what happened when you went through the maze,” Chas suggested.
“I was the fifth person to go in from our group. Miss Prissy Pants had to be first, of course, she always has to be first,” Lyle made a disgusted face.
“That would be Kendra Covington?” Chas clarified.
“Yes, it most certainly would,” he grimaced. “Then of course, Carl had to go next, because he trails after that woman like a damn homeless puppy. Your boy Spencer went in after that – I think he wanted to be on the other end to keep the group in order when they came out – poor guy, they aren’t an easy bunch. Then Max said “ladies first” and sent Chelsea in, and then I jumped the line and went next,” he said, looking away.
Apple Cider Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 18 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 3