“Why did you kill Elliot?”
“See, the bigger question is—how did you know? Tell me. How did you figure it out?” His voice was eerily calm.
“I didn’t at first,” she admitted, hoping to draw him out by a longer explanation. At least she could buy herself some time. “Though the fact that you had nothing but good things to say about him made me wonder why. Why did you—and only you—seem to see him as a good guy?”
“So I was too nice to him? I don’t buy that. What gave me away?”
“That wasn’t the only thing.” She nervously glanced around, hoping for something close that she could use to defend herself. Her eyes alighted on a paddle leaning against the wall next to her and her muscles tensed. If she made just the right move…
“What else?” He stepped closer.
“I knew that Elliot’s death hadn’t been accidental. I noticed the water certification bracelet on his wrist when Detective Eastwood and I found his body. I knew that it wasn’t likely he’d drown in that fashion. Then there was the Medical Examiner’s report that there was alcohol in his system.”
She turned and pointed up at the bottles on the top shelf of the small room.
“The M.E. discovered it was very expensive whiskey—the kind that I assumed Mister Henry would buy as a gift for an employee he liked, trusted.” She met James’s gaze. “Someone like you.”
Emotion flickered on his features, but he remained silent as if waiting for her to continue.
“There was also the fact that Elliot didn’t work and wasn’t receiving financial help from his father, yet he kept having spending money. He made regular deposits of cash so we knew it had to be coming from somewhere.”
“There’s no way you could trace cash to me,” he challenged.
“You’re right,” she said, still eyeing the paddle out of the corner of her eye. “Everyone assumed you were paying for your daughter’s college tuition, and I assume you were letting people think that, but in reality, you weren’t.” Here she paused, her eyes narrowing on him. “I think whatever money you did make went to Elliot.”
“All right,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, detective lady, why? Tell me why. None of this seems like a motive.”
He was challenging her and she almost didn’t want to play along. And yet, something told her that if she didn’t, he would escalate to the next phase of his poorly created plan—tying her up and then only God knew what would happen next.
“I can only speculate on this part, but I think that I’m right.” She subtly shifted her weight forward on the chair. “I think that Elliot was unfortunate enough to catch you and his mother in the midst of an affair.”
James blinked, a tell that she had been correct in her assumption, yet he didn’t say anything.
“I think he decided to hold it over you rather than out it to his father, extorting you for all the money he could, in order to live comfortably. He didn’t need much since his living arrangements were taken care of, but the spending money was what he really wanted.” She shifted again. “I think it got to be too much, though. My assumption is that Eleanor Henry never knew that Elliot had discovered the affair, but the amount of money he demanded grew and grew. You couldn’t stand it, so you took matters into your own hands.”
His eyes narrowed even further and he took a step forward, causing Margot to suck in a quick breath.
“Tell me, Missus Durand, just how I did this thing you’re accusing me of. If you’re so smart.” His tone was laced with ice.
“I think you were near the bar that night.” She thought of the figure that Kellen had seen. “You saw the fight between him and his former best friend, Drake Sylvester, and you heard Drake’s threats. You saw it as your one opportunity—that if the police didn’t believe Elliot’s death had been accidental or a suicide, they could pinpoint Drake’s fight with him. I’m not sure how it played out exactly, but I think he willingly came with you here—maybe looking to get more money from you, or maybe as a misguided friend—and you took advantage of that. You forced liquor into him and then took him out on a kayak at night. You know these waters better than anyone. I think you must have drowned him, aided by the allergic reaction his body had to the alcohol, and then you swam back here.
“I saw your gear sitting on the dock the other day. It would have been an easy swim for someone who knew the area.”
“That’s impressive,” he said, his smile the furthest thing from amused. “And, since you seem to be the only one who thinks this, I’ll be able to get away with your accidental drowning as well.”
Margot took that moment to act, moving up and to the left, her hand blindly reaching for the paddle. Grasping it, she swung it around hard. The flat side connected hard with James’s temple and he staggered back. Just then, the door flew open.
“Police! Freeze!”
Chapter 15
A warm breeze gusted in off the Potomac, causing the fabric of the bright yellow umbrella to pull taut overhead. The sound reminded Margot of sails caught in the wind and she smiled, looking over at Adam.
“Don’t think that just because you caught a killer, I’m going to forgive you that easily.” He eyed her with a narrow gaze. “I’m still upset at you.”
She reached over and poured him more coffee from the French press then lifted one of the apple turnovers, his favorite, to his lips. He took a bite then licked the flaky crumbs off, trying to hide his smile.
“How about now?”
“Better, but you’ve got a long way to go.”
“I am sorry, Adam,” she said, offering him a contrite gaze. “I really didn’t think that James would capture me like that.”
He shifted forward, his hazel eyes flashing more green than brown in the bright light. “I know. I mean, you had a good lead—those cameras would have been perfect…”
“You mean if they hadn’t been controlled by James and useless at night?”
He smiled despite his attempt to remain upset with her. “You could have just called me. I could have called down to the marina office and—”
“What?”
“Probably heard that there were no cameras that were city-run.”
“I realized they were specifically for the private portion of the docks when I got down there, but it was too late. James already had me.” She shivered despite the warmth of the sun overhead and Adam reached over to grasp her hand.
“I’m glad we caught him when we did, Margot.” His gaze collided with hers, his face a mask of concern. “I hate to think of what would have happened had I not shown up at the bakery only to have that new assistant of yours tell me you’d run off mumbling about cameras. She’s a spitfire, that one,” he said with a half-smile before refocusing on her. “But seriously, it was very dangerous.”
“I know.” She ducked her head, feeling appropriately shaken. “I didn’t mean to confront him. That wasn’t at all my plan. It just…happened.”
“And you kept him talking—that was good.”
“I had to hope that you’d come find me.” She looked up at him and smiled.
“What if I'm not there next time?”
She took in a deep breath. “I don’t plan on there being a next time.”
“We both know you’ll fall into one case or another. I don’t think it’s possible for you not to.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand back. “I don’t try to get myself in dangerous situations. You know that, don't you?”
He nodded, his gaze traveling out to the Potomac. “Can we take a walk?”
His question surprised her. She’d posted that she’d only be open for a half-day since she’d planned to use the rest of her Saturday to train Julia, but they still had an hour until her new assistant would be there.
“Sure,” she said, looking around to make sure anything they left out was either free for the taking by the birds or secure against any gusts of wind. Then she stood and joined Adam on the walkway running next to the Potomac.
They walked in silence for a long time and Margot marveled at how much had happened in such a short time. They’d found a body, investigated the reality of murder, she’d hired a new assistant, and they’d caught a killer. What a whirlwind.
She thought back to the day at the island right before she’d seen poor Elliot.
“Adam,” she said, looking up at him. “You’d said you had something to ask me when we were on the island.” Her thoughts filled in the reality of a transfer. Was that his news? “You never did ask me.”
He licked his lips and then pulled them to sit on the low rock wall that overlooked the Potomac a few hundred yards below them. The wind whipped her hair around and she was glad she’d worn a light sweater, seeing as the stiff breeze was cooler coming in off the water.
“It wasn’t the right time,” he said, his gaze not meeting hers.
Her heart started to pound. What was wrong? He looked nervous again.
“Are you taking that transfer?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Transfer—what?”
She blushed and looked away. “I just remember you’d said you had the opportunity of taking a transfer and I wondered if that’s what this was all about. You seem…hesitant.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again as a bemused look came over his face. “You thought this was about a transfer?”
“So, it’s not?” Fears came rising to the surface and she imagined all sorts of things he could tell her. He wanted to break up. He had a disease. He had been called back to D.C. He—
“Margot, I was going to ask you to marry me.”
His words slammed into her. Marry. Marriage.
“Uh…” she stammered.
He reached up and angled her face so that she looked up at him. “I know it’s soon and we’ve only been dating a little while, but I love you, Margot. I want to spend the rest of this life with you.”
“You do?” She felt foolish the moment the words left her lips.
He grinned. “Shocking, right?”
Now she smiled, but she still had no words.
“But, I can see this has come as a surprise. I knew that I couldn’t say anything after we found…well, you know. But I haven’t found the right time to ask you—until now.”
Her thoughts swirled around in her mind like a swarm of scattered bees.
“What are you thinking, Margie? Talk to me.”
She swallowed, licking her lips. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you want to marry me?”
“I don't know if I'm…ready. For that.”
He nodded, his lips pressing into a firm line, and she reached up to cup his cheek.
“I know that I love you, Adam Eastwood. And I know that there’s no one else I’d rather be with, but…” Her thoughts flew back to Julian and his senseless death. To the unresolved nature of it all and the reality of being the wife of a detective. Could she step into that role again?
“It’s okay,” he said, silencing her thoughts for a second with a light kiss. “I don’t need an answer now. I just need to know that we—us—is still what you want.”
“It is,” she said without hesitation.
“Good.” He stood, pulling her up to stand next to him. They turned their gazes out to the vibrant blue of the Potomac as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’ve got all the time in the world, Margie.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and hoped that that was true. She’d thought the same thing about Julian and look what had happened there. Then again, Adam was not Julian.
The man standing tall and strong next to her was her best friend and she knew that he meant what he said. He would wait for her no matter what. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to wait long.
Margot let out a soft sigh and allowed her thoughts to settle into the moment, knowing that the future would take care of itself.
Thanks for reading the Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Boxed Set, Books 4 - 6. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
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At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books by friends and fellow authors at Fairfield Publishing. First is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of A Pie to Die For by Stacey Alabaster - it’s part of the popular Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.
Get Up in Smoke here: amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX
Get A Pie to Die For here: amazon.com/dp/B01D6ZVT78
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Preview: Up in Smoke
I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.
“Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”
“I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”
When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.
“I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.
“Well, your grandmother didn’t give me much time to make it. I only had about ten minutes.” She glanced at the sign proudly before closing the trunk. She looked me in the eyes. “Let’s get on the road. We can chit chat in the car.”
With that, she climbed in and clicked on her seat belt. As I got in, she was applying a thick coat of bright red lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. “Gotta look sharp in case we get pulled over.” She winked again, her heavily wrinkled eyelid looking like it thought about staying closed before it sprung back up again.
I thought about her words for a moment. She must get pulled over a lot, I thought. Poor old lady. I could picture her going ten miles an hour while the rest of Miami flew by her.
“Better buckle up.” She pinched her lips together before blotting them slightly on a tissue. She smiled at me and for a moment, I was jealous of her pouty lips, every line filled in by layers and layers of red.
I did as I was told and buckled my seat belt before I sunk down into her caramel leather seats. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the trip. I closed my eyes and tried to forget my troubles, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly to give all my worry and fear ample time to escape my body. For the first time since I had made the decision to come here, I felt at peace. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.
The sound of squealing tires filled the air and my eyes flung open to see this old lady zigzagging through the parking garage. She took the turns without hitting the brakes, hugging ea
ch curve like a racecar driver. When we exited the garage and turned onto the street, she broke out in laughter. “That’s my favorite part!”
I tugged my seat belt to make sure it was on tight. This was not going to be the relaxing drive I had thought it would be.
We hit the highway and I felt like I was in an arcade game. She wove in and out of traffic at a speed I was sure matched her old age.
“Ya know, the older I get the worse other people drive.” She took one hand off the wheel and started to rummage through her purse, which sat between us.
“Um, can I help you with something?” My nerves were starting to get the best of me as her eyes were focused more on her purse than the road.
“Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.” She dug a little more, pulling out a package of AA batteries and then a ham sandwich.
Brake lights lit up in front of us and I screamed, bracing myself for impact. The old woman glanced up and pulled the car to the left in a quick jerk before returning to her purse. Horns blared from behind us.
“There it is!” She pulled out a package of wintergreen Life Savers. “Do you want one?”
“No, thank you.” I could barely get the words out.
“I learned a long time ago that it was easier if I just drove and did my thing instead of worrying about what all the other drivers were doing. It’s easier for them to get out of my way instead of me getting out of theirs. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” She popped a mint in her mouth and smiled. “I love wintergreen. I don’t know why peppermint is more popular. Peppermint is so stuffy; wintergreen is fun.”
She seemed to get in a groove with her driving and soon my grip was loosening on the sides of the seat, the blood slowly returning to my knuckles. Suddenly I realized I hadn’t asked her name.
“I was so confused when you picked me up from the airport instead of my Grandma Dean that I never asked your name.”
Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6 Page 29