by S F Bose
Sweet shrugged. “He’s okay. Damian’s a smart guy and has good contacts. His money doesn’t hurt either. He likes things done his way and has good instincts. He does have a temper though.”
“He has a temper?” I asked, surprised.
“I didn’t see it very often. Sometimes, though, he’d blow up when people didn’t do their jobs or there were delays. If materials arrived late, if there were inspection delays, or personnel issues, he’d explode and rant for a while. Then it blew over,” Sweet said. “He usually ended up apologizing. I think more than anything else, Damian hated losing control. Why are you asking about him?”
“It’s something else we’re working on,” I replied. “So he’d just yell?” I asked.
“He’d yell, swear, and rant. But again, it didn’t happen often,” Sweet said.
“Did he ever get physical? Push anyone around?” I asked.
Sweet barked out a laugh. “Damian? No way. He’s a gym rat who likes to lift weights. He's not ever going to throw down and actually fight a guy. He sometimes loses his temper and yells. But if he’s really pissed at a guy, he just does what he can to get him fired.”
“Okay one last question. What were you wearing the night of the murder?” I asked.
“Wearing?” Sweet repeated. He blinked and frowned. “It was a Monday and I had the meeting. I remember I wore my black suit, white shirt, and red tie. It’s my power suit and the meeting at the University was important. Then I wore boots, my black dress coat, hat, and gloves.”
“What kind of hat?” I asked.
I could almost hear Sweet grinding his teeth.
“That hat,” he said, pointing to the table along the wall to his right. I saw a black fedora and gloves. The brim on the hat looked wide.
Nodding, I looked at Sam. “That’s all I’ve got,” I said.
“So what happens now?” Sweet asked. “My wife and kids cannot find out about Nikki,” he repeated. He was looking at Sam.
Sam stood up. “We’ll give you until noon tomorrow to share this corrected information with Chief Durand.”
“I thought you said you’d be discreet!” Sweet exploded.
Sam stepped to the edge of the desk and looked down on Sweet. “Listen to me. When you talk to Durand, lose the attitude. Be contrite. Tell him you were scared and screwed up. You want to come clean. Then tell him the truth about the gun and the girlfriend and lying about being at Smitty’s. Don’t forget for a second that he can charge you with providing false information in writing to an officer investigating a murder. That’s a felony. Do you understand?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I understand,” Sweet said, looking down at his hands.
“I’ll be calling Durand tomorrow afternoon to make sure you followed through,” Sam said. Sweet looked up and glared.
***
We left Sweet’s office and retraced our steps back to the front. When we reached the door to the office suite, we waved at the receptionist and went out into the hall.
When we reached the elevator, something hit me. Once the elevator doors closed, I turned on Sam. “Why didn’t you tell me about the dirt you found on Sweet?” I demanded.
“Because I wanted you to look as surprised as you did. If Sweet is the killer, I want him coming after me, not you.”
Anger flamed through me and I thought my head was going to explode. “Sam Nolan, that is so…so…sexist!” I hit the side of the elevator with the flat of my right hand.
He looked at me and his mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Listen,” I said, poking him in the chest, “if I want to be the target of a murderer, then I’ll damn well be the target of a murderer! I can handle myself just fine.” The corners of Sam’s mouth started to curl up into a smile, but he quickly turned that smile into a frown when he saw my glare.
The elevator doors slid open and an elderly man and woman looked at us in surprise. The woman tugged the man’s arm and they backed up.
I stormed out and Sam followed. I heard him say something apologetic to the older couple.
It was already dark outside. Sam caught up to me and said, “Wait, Liz. Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. I’m used to working on my own and taking all the risks. This arrangement is still new to me.”
I flashed on the missions I participated in when I worked at Worldhead Global Security. I had been in so many dicey situations with my team in foreign locations. However, team members always treated me as an equal. I wasn’t used to being protected and I didn’t like the feeling.
I stopped under a lamppost and faced Sam. Lowering my voice, I said, “Look, Sam, you’re always talking about not keeping secrets. You're right. I do have secrets. There’s a lot I can’t tell you about the work I did at Worldhead. Someday, maybe I can. But until then, you have to trust that I can take care of myself and that I will always have your back. I won’t let you down.”
Sam looked like I had punched him in the gut. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Then he leaned forward, pinned my eyes with his, and said, “Liz, I do trust you. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t still be working for me. We can work on the whole sharing secrets thing and find some compromise, okay?”
All I heard was the wind whipping around us. “Well, all right then,” I said and continued walking toward the Jeep.
When Sam caught up to me, he asked, “Are we okay?”
I glanced at him and smiled. “Yep,” I said.
Once we were on the road, he asked, “What was your impression of Sweet?”
“I thought he was promising. He has a bad temper and more of a motive than Ben did. He probably saw Justin as a roadblock to making a lot of money.”
“There’s one problem, though. The timeline. Could he have gone into the Emporium around 5:00 p.m., beaten Justin, shot him with his Sig and a silencer, and escaped in fifteen minutes? That would have given him five minutes to run to his car, dump his bag, and come back to call the police.”
I thought about that. “Maybe Sweet didn’t beat up Justin. Someone else might have done that earlier. However, Sweet admitted being very angry because he thought Justin was ducking him. He could have entered the Emporium already in a rage. He found Justin in the parlor, and launched into an argument. Let’s say that took five minutes. Then he got his gun and silencer from his bag. Bam! He shot Justin, grabbed the two spent shell casings, shoved everything into his bag, and ran out the back. Ten minutes would have been enough time for that.”
“Yeah that works,” Sam agreed. “The only thing we lack is hard evidence.”
“You sound doubtful. You don’t think Sweet killed Justin?”
Sam thought for a bit. “I think he could have done it. I’m just not sure he actually killed Justin. And if he did kill him, I worry that he thought ahead and hid the real murder weapon.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. So his guns would all pass ballistics testing.” I thought about it for a minute. “You know, I just don’t think Sweet is that smart.” Sam grunted in reply.
“Do you think we should run this Mark Sweet scenario past Matt?” I asked.
“I’m sure it’s something he considered already. I plan to touch base with him tomorrow to make sure Sweet called him. I’ll run it by him then.”
“Good,” I replied. If nothing else, Sweet would move up Matt’s suspect list.
We drove back to Mystic Grove mostly in silence, but it felt comfortable. However, by the time we pulled into the parking lot, I had a bad headache. Sam promptly told me to go home and rest. I promised him I’d come in the next day and update the case file.
I thought about Mark Sweet as I drove home. He was a hot-tempered man with a struggling business, and a reputation for being difficult. The more I thought about my scenario, the more I liked it.
When I arrived home, I pulled Lulu into the garage and hurried to the coach house. After feeding Snap and Sammy, I changed into a tee shirt and pajama pants, and took some Excedrin PM. I thought it would be smart to eat something, so
I went back downstairs and had a bowl of cereal.
Then I plodded back up to my bedroom. I saw Nate’s letter propped on the bedside table and shook my head. Still not ready. I put my cellphone on the table next to the letter. Then I went into the bathroom where I rinsed a clean washcloth in cold water. I padded back to my bed, slid beneath the sheets, and put the cold cloth over my eyes. I sighed as the pain lessened a bit.
When my cellphone rang, I groaned. I took the cold cloth off my eyes and grabbed the phone from the bedside table.
“This better be good,” I said without thinking.
There was silence and then Raven’s melodic voice said, “I sense this is a bad time.”
I groaned. “Hi Raven. Bad headache. I’m in bed already.” I put the washcloth back over my eyes.
“Oh, sorry to hear that, Liz. I was hoping we could have dinner. Never mind. You go back to sleep. Pleasant dreams.”
I smiled. “Thanks Raven. You too.” We both clicked off.
Then everything faded to dark and I slept through the night. No dreams, pleasant or otherwise.
Chapter 30
The next morning I woke up at 7:30 a.m. pain-free. I stretched and realized it was Saturday, so I didn’t have to rush. Chloe and Olivia would have been long gone to the B&B for breakfast and then to their herb shop in Mystic Grove. After checking the weather on my phone, I decided to take a short run.
Half an hour later, I was running west along the northern fence line. The morning was mild and overcast. The only light came from the snow covering the pastures and meadows. Thorn, our fairy tree, soared up in the middle of the small meadow to my right. Out of habit, I raised a hand as I passed.
I cleared my mind and ran a fast pace to the western pasture. Turning left, I accelerated down the road with the pasture fencing to my right and the stable and empty paddocks to my left. When I reached the south road, I turned left and tried to accelerate a bit more, but ran out of steam by the time I reached the driveway. I groaned. I really have to work out more. I slowed down as I jogged back north up the driveway. When I got to the coach house, I did some stretches and ran inside.
After I was showered and dressed, I played with Snap and Sammy, who both stretched and rolled on the floor in front of me. After scratching their tummies and ears, I led them down to the kitchen and fed them. Since I planned to go to the office, I decided to have breakfast at the Farmhouse Café.
Thirty minutes later, I parked Lulu in my spot in the small Bowman Building lot. When I got out of the car and grabbed my messenger bag, the air felt warmer and there was no wind. I crossed Bridge Road, cheered by the lack of wind chill.
When I passed the Emporium, the “Closed” sign was in the window and the air smelled acrid. I walked to the back of the building and stopped in surprise. Police tape and sawhorses blocked off the back of the Emporium.
“What the heck,” I said, stopping in my tracks. Fire had burned the small back porch to a crisp and scorch marks streaked the back wall. The frame and walls still looked intact, though. I turned and hurried to the Café.
The restaurant was almost empty. I’d missed the breakfast rush and the wave of luncheon tourists was yet to come. Abbie sat at a table in the small dining room looking at some paperwork.
“Hey Abbie,” I said, sliding into the chair next to her. Her face lit up.
“Hey Lizzie, how are you?”
“Okay, but what happened at the Emporium?” I slid out of my parka.
Abbie rolled her eyes. “Craziness, Liz. I don’t know what’s going on. It looks like someone tried to burn the Emporium down early this morning. Sid came in early and scared the guy off.” Sid Frye ran the kitchen at the Café.
Alarmed, I asked, “Are Peter and Martha okay?”
“They’re rattled but fine.”
I shook my head. “I’d be rattled too. Can I talk to Sid? Is he still here?”
“Sure. It’s our slow time. Let me go get him,” said Abbie. She walked quickly to the kitchen in back. Minutes later, she returned, followed by the cook, who was wiping his hands on his apron. Sid was in his fifties, had a weathered face, and a ready smile. He was tall and thin as a rail.
“Hi Liz, how are you?” Sid said with a big smile.
“Good, Sid. How are you?”
Sid shrugged. “No point in complaining.” We both smiled.
“Can I ask you about the fire?” I asked.
“Sure thing,” he said and sat across from me. Abbie reclaimed her chair next to me.
“So what happened?”
Sid took a deep breath. “It was really weird. I normally come in to do prep work at 5:00 a.m. But my wife had a terrible cough and woke me up early. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I came in an hour early.”
Abbie put a hand on his arm and said, “Sid, bring Lenore some of our chicken noodle soup. That will help her feel better.”
Sid smiled. “Thanks, Abbie, I’ll do that.” He saw me waiting expectantly and cleared his throat. “So I decided to get up and go to work. I got here around 4:00 a.m. I parked in the East Lot and walked across Founders Road to the Café. I was walking fast with my head down. Then I turned up the path between Saucy Shop and the Café and was almost to the front door when I heard a sound. I looked up and saw a flash of light at the back of the Emporium.”
“It was on fire already?”
Sid nodded. “Yes, it was. Then I saw a man walking around the east side of the Emporium with a gas can in each hand. He was dressed in black and wore a motorcycle helmet. I shouted and he jumped. Then he dropped the cans and ran around the back of the Emporium toward Eclectic Gifts. He had a motorcycle parked there on the side of the building. Seconds later, he fired it up and peeled out onto Pond Road.”
“Did you recognize him?” I asked.
Sid shook his head. “No, he was covered in black head to foot. It happened so fast.”
“Anything you can tell me about the bike?”
“He never put his lights on but when he hit Pond Road, there were street lights. I can tell you it was a big motorcycle. I also think it was an American bike and not one of the foreign models.”
“Okay, then what happened?”
“I ran to the Café and unlocked the door. I called 911 on my cellphone. Then I grabbed one of our dry chemical extinguishers. I ran to the back of the Emporium and sprayed the back porch, the stairs, and the back wall. I shouted for Peter and Martha as loud as I could.”
“Were they okay?”
“Oh yeah. They both came around from the front of the Emporium. Peter had his 30-30 shotgun. When they realized what had happened, they were both angry. By then, the fire was out, but the back porch was a goner.”
“Sid, do me a favor and think back again. Was there anything at all familiar about the arsonist?”
Shaking his head slowly, Sid replied, “Sorry Liz. It happened too fast.”
“No limp or anything,” I asked hopefully.
Sid thought for a minute and then his eyebrows spiked up. “The only thing I can tell you is that he was a big guy.”
“Okay, that’s good. Are you sure it was a man?”
“I’m positive it was a guy. I could tell by how he looked and moved,” Sid said.
“What do you think is going on, Liz?” Abbie asked. They both stared at me.
I shook my head slowly. “Not a clue. It’s hard to believe the murder and arson attempt aren’t connected. But I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Peter and Martha.”
“Me either,” Sid agreed.
“Did they stay with friends?” I asked.
“No, they stayed at the Emporium. The Fire Brigade said there was no danger,” Abbie said.
“Was their daughter still here?”
Abbie shook her head. “No, she went back to Madison. She’ll be back for Justin’s service on Tuesday.”
I nodded. “Sid, you’re a hero. You probably saved Peter and Martha’s lives,” I said. Sid’s face turned red and he looked uncomfortable. He shifted his l
ong body in the chair.
“You are a hero, Sid,” Abbie agreed, smiling at him.
It was too much for Sid. Jumping up, he said, “I just helped a little. No need to fuss. I’m going back to the kitchen, okay?” His Adam’s apple was bobbing.
“Sure thing, Sid. Thanks for the information,” I said.
He nodded, gave a small wave, and hurried back to the kitchen.
Abbie smiled. “Sid doesn’t like to be the center of attention.”
“I noticed,” I said and smiled back.
“Once Lenore feels better, I’m going to get them a gift certificate for dinner at Enzo’s. They both love his cooking. If you think about it, Sid probably saved both the Emporium and Eclectic from burning. Maybe even the Café too if the fire spread fast.”
“I agree. Sid scared the guy off before he could do real damage. It’ll be easy to build a new back porch and get rid of the scorching.”
A serious look washed over Abbie’s face. “Liz, you have to figure this out. Peter and Martha are under so much stress. I’m worried about them. I’m worried about all of us. I’m afraid more people are going to get hurt.”
“I’ll do my best, Abbie. Sam and I are investigating Justin’s murder. We’ll figure it out.”
Abbie nodded, but didn’t look reassured. We chatted for a few more minutes. Then I placed a takeout order for coffee, tea, six assorted donuts, and two bagels with cream cheese on the side. While I waited for my order, I placed a call on my cellphone.
“Hello Liz,” Mom answered. “Any news?”
“We’re working the case, Mom. No news yet. I had a quick question for you.”
“What?”
“Where was Ben at 4:00 a.m. today?”
“Are you serious?” Her voice was filled with disapproval.
I sighed. “Yes, Mom, I’m serious. Where was he?”
“He was in bed with me,” she replied, an edge to her voice.
“You’re sure he was there at 4:00 a.m.?” I pressed.
“Positive. We both woke up at 4:15 a.m. It was too early to let the chickens out, so we made love,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Okay. Gotta go. Thanks. Bye.” I quickly disconnected. Then I covered my eyes with my fists. Too much information! How am I ever going to get that image out of my brain?