by S F Bose
“How’d they find the warehouse, though?” I asked.
“Bear probably told Eddie when they met. Eddie just didn’t tell us,” Sam replied. “Then, either before or after Bear’s funeral, they went to the warehouse and executed Mr. B and Chuck,” Sam said.
“You think the grandfather went there and shot them?” Matt asked.
“I think it’s very possible. He was avenging his grandson. Eddie was probably there too,” Sam said.
“Drew too. He was one of Bear’s oldest friends. Bear, Eddie, and Drew were like brothers,” I added and Sam nodded.
“I forgot about him,” said Sam.
Grandma Addie and Nana Anna listened closely to the conversation. When I explained who Mr. B and Chuck were, Grandma said, “Years ago, Mickey Boyle was involved with gambling and hijacking trucks. He wasn’t a killer.”
“People change, Grandma,” I said gently. Her lips tightened and she looked at the Mass card again.
“You said Eddie told you he planned to stay away as long as Mr. B was alive?” Matt asked Sam.
“That’s what he said but it was BS. He couldn’t let on that Mr. B was already dead. This was all an elaborate set-up. At first, I’m sure Eddie was afraid Mr. B might put a hit out on him. But then he found out that Mr. B had tagged Bear to kill him. I don’t think there was any other hitman. I’m sure Eddie feels safe now.”
Matt made some notes in a small notebook. “We’ll interview all of them. I hope Eddie hasn’t flown the coop.”
“Matt, I have no hard evidence. I can almost guarantee you’re never going to be able to prove any of this,” Sam said.
Matt stood up and stretched. “Not my case. I’ll give this information to the case detectives in Madison. It’s their headache now.” He smiled and left for Mystic Grove.
We sat in silence. I looked over at Grandma Addie and Nana Anna. Both stared at the photo of Bear on the Mass card. Grandma looked up suddenly and her eyes locked with mine. “It’s so hard to reconcile. How does a brave man like Mickey Boyle end up killing people?”
“Like Sam said, if Mickey Boyle did this thing, he was avenging his grandson. It doesn’t make it right, but good people do bad things,” Nana said quietly. Grandma’s mouth tightened to a thin line and she shook her head
Sam cleared his throat. “Remember this is all speculation at this point. Mickey Boyle may not be involved. We’ll have to see what the police come up with.” Grandma and Nana looked slightly more cheerful. I flashed him a grateful smile.
Chapter 67
A week later, Sam called me into his office and I slid into the nearest guest chair. Matt had arrived with some news. He sat in the other guest chair and stretched his legs. Flip was sound asleep on the floor near Sam.
Matt cleared his throat. “Detective Manning called me this morning. The crime scene was wiped completely clean. No shell casings. No fingerprints. No fibers. Ballistics did reveal the murder weapon was a Glock 17. We struck out on security footage in the warehouse district. Police in New York grilled Mickey Boyle. It turned out that his son, Ronin, is also an associate of the New York mob,” Matt said.
“Was the son here for the wake and funeral?” I asked.
“He was. Mickey and Ronin Boyle both had a tight story about what they did when they were here for the services. Both denied ever hearing of Mr. B and his son, much less killing them. The family members and other people present that week all corroborated their story.”
“No surprise there,” Sam said. Flip’s head came up at the sound of Sam’s voice.
“Right. Detective Manning said Drew Klein, Mickey Boyle, Ronin Boyle, and Eddie Klein all stayed with Bear’s parents in their home in Maple Bluff for the week of the wake and funeral. Except for Eddie, their wives were also with them,” Matt said. “Drew denied knowing anything about the murder of Mr. B and Chuck. He said the family grieved together all week and mostly talked about Bear.”
“Maple Bluff. Pretty ritzy for two former high school teachers,” I said.
“I said the same thing to Detective Manning. He said they moved there five years ago,” Matt replied.
“So Eddie stuck around and the detectives questioned him?” Sam asked.
“Yes, Eddie told them everything, including asking you to bring Bear’s evidence to the police.”
“Why was that so important to him?” I asked.
“Because it would be official that there was evidence showing that Mr. B and Chuck murdered Bear,” Sam said.
“I think that’s it,” Matt agreed. “Eddie confirmed everything he told you about the gambling system, meeting with Bear, getting the information about the Dietz murder, and learning that Mr. B wanted Bear to kill him.
“So he told the truth about all of that,” Sam said, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah but Eddie didn’t shed any light on the murder of Mr. B and Chuck. He also provided an alibi for Mickey, Ronin, and Drew. And they provided an alibi for him and for each other. They also had family friends who said they were with them all week, night and day. There’s even some home security footage that supports some of what they said. Bottom line is right now, there’s no concrete evidence that points to any of them for the murder of Mr. B and Chuck.”
“Maybe Mickey Boyle or someone else in the family arranged for the hit. They had a professional do it while the family was all together,” I said.
“Definitely a possibility,” Matt agreed.
“Is Eddie staying in the area?” Sam asked, petting Flip’s head.
“He is. He and his girlfriend had a vacation planned, but they delayed it because of Bear’s death. I don’t think the detectives consider him a person of interest. They’re more interested in Mickey and Ronin Boyle.”
“You think they did it?” I asked.
“Mickey and Ronin? Yeah, I think they were involved. But I also think Eddie and Drew were involved too. There’s no evidence to prove it, but sooner or later someone will talk or make a mistake.”
Sam looked skeptical and didn’t say anything.
“My gut tells me they’ll take this to their graves,” I said.
***
After Matt left, I started to stand up, but Sam waved me back into my chair. I felt a buzz of apprehension because he looked tense and was swallowing a lot. Even worse, he wouldn’t look at me. He pulled his gray, Irish hat forward, nervously. Flip felt Sam’s tension, whined, and padded out toward the reception area couch.
“This is it,” I thought. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Sam was about to fire me. Anger mixed with sadness. Realistically, I hadn’t done a very good job as a PI intern. Any gut instincts or spidey sense I thought I had, all abandoned me.
First, I thought Mark Sweet had murdered Justin Church. Then I would have bet big money that Jimmy Dietz was the killer. When he fell through, I revisited Mark Sweet as the best suspect. Despite some convincing testimony by Finn, I seriously resisted the idea of Damian Fletcher as the murderer. Then all of my Krav Maga skills had disappeared and Damian came “thisclose” to killing me at the cabin. If it hadn’t been for the shooting skills of Finnegan Daley and special help by Grandma Addie and Nana Anna, I’d be toes up at my own viewing at the Winberrie Funeral Home. Hell, I should fire myself!
“Liz?” Sam’s voice brought me back to reality.
“What?” I replied sharply and saw his eyebrows arch up. I sighed. Let’s get it over with. “What?” I repeated more gently and gave him a brief smile.
“I…um…wanted to talk to you about your work here.” His face reddened.
Instead of throwing Sam a lifeline and making it easier, I crossed my legs, folded my hands, and watched him.
He exhaled and said, “Well, there’s no easy way to say this…”
Here it comes.
“I’ve really enjoyed working with you…” Sam looked at his desk and compulsively twirled a pen in his right hand.
Spit it out already.
“It worked out a lot better than I thought it would. But�
�”
But.
Sam looked at me with sad, brown eyes and I could almost see his brain struggling for the right words to cut me loose.
“I need…”
My resignation? Does he want me to quit first? I started to open my mouth.
“I need a commitment from you,” he said.
Say what?
“Commitment?” I repeated.
“Yeah. I’d like to sponsor you for your PI license. But I need to know you’re seriously interested in the job. With the leave of absence situation and your ex-boss coming out here, it tells me this PI work is just temporary for you.” He looked at me glumly.
My head started spinning. I sat back, closed my eyes for a second, and took a deep breath. Once again, my spidey sense had crashed and burned in a spectacular way.
I leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “Sam, I love working here with you. I know I have a lot to learn, but I’d love to study for my PI license. I’d like to work here full-time and get better at being a PI. I have no plans to go back to Worldhead and Raven knows that. He’s really becoming more of a friend than anything else. However, the leave of absence is contractual. I also might get a bonus or something if he keeps me on the books. I hope you understand.”
Sam listened to me carefully, eyes boring into mine, and nodded. “Okay, I do understand. Money is money. I was just concerned you might view this as a temporary port in the storm. You have a real aptitude for investigating, Liz. I think you’d shine as a PI.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that. I mean, I’m happy you think that, but I was wrong so many times,” I replied. “I never really thought Damian was our guy until the very end. My instincts stink.”
He sat back and smiled. “Liz, Matt and I were wrong too. The real job here is listening to people, collecting evidence, and following the facts. Sometimes people lie or hold back the truth in interviews. That’s where instinct can help. Your instincts will improve over time. Don’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
Then Sam looked serious again. “Another thing is that we don’t always get happy endings in this work. If we find a missing person, that’s usually a happy outcome. But solving a theft or murder can lead to disappointing results. And the marital stuff? Forget about it. People are rarely happy to find out their spouse is cheating.”
“You really know how to sell a job, Sam,” I said and smiled. He laughed at that.
“So you’re still interested in working here as a PI or did I talk you out of it?”
“I’m very interested, Sam. It’s what I want to do.”
“Great! Awesome! I’m happy you want to keep working here. I’ll get you the information you need for licensing. We can talk about that tomorrow,” said Sam with a big smile. I stood and we shook hands on it.
I went through the inner door connecting our two offices and closed the door quietly. Then I alternated fist pumps and whispered “Yessssss!” I felt a surge of happiness and energy. I started shadow boxing, bobbing and weaving, and snapping punches. Then I fell back into my chair and smiled.
I was finally home.
***
A Message from S.F. Bose
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About S.F. Bose
Growing up on the South Side of Chicago, S.F. Bose read all of the Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew mystery books. Inspired by those books, she and her friends scoured their neighborhood looking for missing persons, blackmailers, and murderers. They were disappointed they didn’t find any criminals.
S.F. Bose worked as a technology manager for many years, but her true love remained reading mystery books and writing stories. After leaving corporate life behind, she decided to take the leap and started writing and publishing mysteries. When not writing, she enjoys puzzles, cooking, gardening, and thinking up creative ways to murder people.
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Books in the Liz Bean Mystery Series
by S.F. Bose
MISSING IN MYSTIC GROVE (#1)
MURDER IN MYSTIC GROVE (#2)
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