Kyla thanked me for the purchase, and I silently and profusely thanked her for all the information. I walked out with my shoes, all the while thinking about Tory's text conversation with Cindy. Tory had threatened to reveal Cindy's secret. It seemed more than obvious now what that secret was, but the question remained—had Tory's threat been enough to push Cindy or even Jeremy to murder?
Chapter 29
After the shoe shopping excursion, I headed back to the newspaper office to hammer out the bridge article. I needed to have something for my deadline. At the same time, I wanted to get it out of the way so I could focus on the murder investigation. Chase had been in and out all morning, but something told me he wasn't any further on the article about the campsite murder than he was on day one. He tended to get easily distracted, and I was sure the police weren't handing him much information.
I reread the bridge piece and decided to close it and wait a day before revisions. Giving the story a day to rest always helped me find weak spots that needed improvement. Raine had texted that she was heading out to Lana's to work on some party decorations for a silver anniversary, and Myrna had gone out to eat with a neighbor so I was on my own for lunch. Deciding I just wasn't that hungry, I pulled a bag of trail mix out from my desk drawer and started nibbling it just as sirens screamed through town. I got up and reached the window just as Detective Jackson and two squad cars raced past.
I rushed back to my desk, grabbed my purse and ran to my jeep. The one perk about living in a small town, especially one that was a junction for all the roads leading to other towns, was that it was always easy to tell which direction police were going. Jackson and his team were heading along Crimson Grove to the Colonial Bridge. I managed to stay close enough that I could keep track of the red lights and sirens. They crossed the bridge and headed into Birch Highlands, a quiet town nestled between Firefly Junction and Smithville.
I'd only traveled through Birch Highlands a few times. The houses grew larger and more elegant as we headed deeper into town and closer to the hills bordering the mountain range. The sirens were silenced, but the red lights flashed as they disappeared around a corner and headed onto a quiet cul-de-sac of very expensive homes. There was already a squad car and a red paramedic truck parked on the street. Jackson pulled up and stopped at the end of a paved driveway that led up to a two story mansion with tall windows and a turret. Thickly clustered yellow and pink rose bushes lined the front porch. An ambulance's red lights flickered at the top of the driveway near a three car garage.
I parked. I was sure I'd hear a lecture from Detective Jackson or at least earn a scowl, but I decided to check out the situation. If it turned out, as I expected, to just be an elderly person with chest pains or hurt from a fall, then I'd scurry back to my car and head back to town, preferably without ever being seen.
I walked to the edge of the privacy hedge bordering the front lawn and peered up the driveway. My car chase through town had been worth the effort. Jeremy Stockton was sitting sideways on a gurney with a first aid ice pack pressed against the left side of his head. The paramedics were checking his eyes and his vitals. Detective Jackson stopped at the gurney to find out the status of the patient while two of his officers scanned the front yard for something.
There was no way Detective Jackson would have been called if Jeremy had just fallen or hit his head. He must have been attacked. He looked pretty shaken as he answered Jackson's questions.
The flurry of emergency people and activity on the driveway gave me an opportunity to sort of glide into the crowd and go unnoticed for a moment. I stayed somewhat camouflaged in the lush trees and landscaping adorning the front yard, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Detective Jackson spotted me sneaking around. I convinced myself to get bold and move closer to the action so I could pick up any pertinent information before being told to leave.
The uniformed officers seemed to be concentrating on a neatly trimmed laurel hedge running along the right side of the house. It was a good six feet high and at least a foot deep.
The massive trunk of a magnolia tree allowed me to stand within hearing range of the conversation at the ambulance. Jeremy's voice was shaky as he spoke to Detective Jackson.
"I was just walking to the back gate, and they jumped out from behind the hedge. The blow to my head made me black out. I never even saw the person."
"Found it," one of the officers called from the hedge. It was Officer Norton from up at the campsite. He emerged with a hammer in his gloved hand.
Detective Jackson walked with long strides over to Officer Norton. He examined the hammer. From the distance I was standing, it looked smaller than the framing hammer used to kill Tory. But still, if swung from a good angle and with good force, it could do some serious damage to a human skull. It seemed Jeremy Stockton either got lucky and missed the full force of the blow, or he had an iron hard head.
One of the paramedics walked over and said something to Detective Jackson. He returned to the ambulance to talk with Jeremy. I remained shielded by the tree. "Mr. Stockton, since this is an assault and since it might very well be linked to the homicide case, I need you to go to the hospital for a proper examination. We've found the hammer that was most likely used to knock you out, but we need to make sure the injuries match the weapon. And if you blacked out, you really need to be checked out by a doctor anyhow."
"Yes, well I was knocked out," Jeremy answered curtly as if he thought Jackson was questioning it. "It's just I have other things to do this afternoon. As you know, I have a large company to run. I just stopped home for some lunch and to make a few phone calls. I certainly didn't expect my work day to be cut short. I've got meetings lined up for the rest of the day."
"I understand your frustration, but frankly, I think you'll be sorry if you go to work. I think once the initial shock wears off, you're going to feel that blow to your head. I can't force you, but I strongly urge you to go through a thorough examination. Otherwise it might be harder to prosecute the perpetrator."
"First you have to catch him," Jeremy barked.
"Yep," Detective Jackson said sharply. It seemed his patience was growing thin. "That's usually the way it works. You said him," he continued after a pause. "You didn't get a look at the person, but do you think it was a male? That would help us narrow the search."
"Why yes, or at least I assume so because of the blow to my head. Either that or a very strong woman," he said with a dry laugh.
"But you don't know for certain it was a male?"
"No, as I told you, I was out cold before I could see anyone." He sighed loudly. "I suppose I should have the doctor prescribe me some kind of pain pills. My head is starting to throb. Although, that might be more from this line of inquiry than anything else."
"Then I'll leave you alone, so you can get to the hospital. We'll be sticking around for a while longer, searching for evidence." Jackson nodded to the paramedics. They loaded their grumpy patient into the back of the ambulance.
With some of the activity slowing down and people leaving the area, I was going to be just a bit too noticeable. A group of firemen, who had shown up for the call, made their way back down to the road. I decided to trek along behind them back to my car.
"Miss Taylor?" a deep voice called from behind. I froze and waited to see if anyone else in the area stopped to answer to the same name. It seemed I was the Miss Taylor being summoned.
Detective Jackson had his hand on one hip, pushing his shirt up above the shiny badge on his belt. A faint smile appeared on his face.
I waved weakly at him. "Hello."
Jackson glanced around the yard. "Were you hiding in the trees again?"
I walked toward him. "Not in the trees. Just behind one." I pointed out the wide trunk of the magnolia tree.
The ambulance backed down the driveway and carried off Jeremy Stockton.
I reached the pathway where the laurel hedge had apparently served as a hiding spot for the attacker. "I saw you race past the new
spaper office and I followed. What can I say? I'm a curious reporter. Besides, I have some interesting information that I think you'll want to hear."
"What is it?"
"First, a few questions about what has happened here."
He tilted his head, and darn, if it wasn't a charming look for the man. "This isn't a bartering session, Bluebird. It's a homicide investigation."
"I understand that. And for me it's a journalist's investigation."
Jackson pulled his glasses back down over his amber eyes. "I thought you were covering a story about the Colonial Bridge project."
"True. And didn't we all just cross over that bridge? I mean if that doesn't show just how important it is for the restoration to begin, then I don't know—"
"Miss Taylor," he said brusquely. "I'm in the middle of something here. What do you have on the case, or should I haul you in to the interrogation room?"
"No need for that."
Officer Norton interrupted with a question about what to label the evidence.
"Possible assault weapon," Jackson answered before turning back to me.
"I see they used a hammer," I said quickly before he could say anything. "Do you think it's the same person who killed Tory?"
He held back a grin. "Could be."
"Could be? Care to elaborate, Detective Jackson?"
"Nope."
"I guess this sort of takes Jeremy off the suspect list."
He didn't respond.
"I see. Well then, I'll tell you my information even if you're being tight-lipped."
"Good idea."
I waved my finger at him. "Just remember this point is in my column because I uncovered it."
His thick hair glistened in the sunlight coming down through the trees as he shook his head. "There are no points because this is not a game."
"Fine. Remember when you so quickly dismissed my mention of Cindy buying prenatal vitamins?"
"I didn't dismiss it. I just didn't add to it."
I pursed my lips to hold back from commenting further about his initial reaction, but I knew when I was on the receiving end of a dismissal. "Anyhow, I went into the shoe store to buy some sandals, and the salesperson just happened to be Kyla, one of the bridesmaids."
When he crossed his arms, it made the fabric on his shirt tighten across his muscles. He took off his sunglasses again. "She just happened to work there?"
"Yes. Just a big ole coincidence," I said with a quick grin. "Anyhow, I think Cindy is pregnant. She was sick the entire day at the campsite. She was weepy. She looked tired and pale with nausea, and she was buying prenatal vitamins. All those clues point to her being pregnant."
He nodded grudgingly. "And Jeremy's the father."
His unexpected response sucked the words right out of me. I stared up at him in question.
"Like I said, I didn't dismiss what you told me about the vitamins. I asked Cindy if there was anything she wanted to tell me that might affect the case. She immediately broke down in sobs about being pregnant. She didn't come right out and confess it, but it was easy to figure out that it was Jeremy's. Of course, none of this connects directly to the victim."
"Except, what if Tory knew about the secret?"
Jackson squinted down at me. "You saw Tory's phone, didn't you? When you were chasing invisible squirrels from her tent?"
I shrugged. "My eyes might have drifted over a few text messages."
"Drifted?" He rolled his eyes. "You do have a lot of interesting words in your arsenal, Bluebird. Guess that's why you're so good at your job." When we were face to face, I only came to his chest. He amplified our height difference by leaning down to look me eye to eye. "Now if you let me do my job, I can get this case solved."
"Far be it from me to stand in the way of justice, so solve away." I started to walk back to the road.
"Hey, Bluebird?"
I turned back to look at him. Somehow he always managed to look spectacular no matter where or how he was standing. "Yes?"
"That was some impressive detective work." He winked at me before turning back to his team.
I tried not to let his simple comment go to my head, but I did manage a couple skips on my way back to the car. I climbed inside and wrote a few things down on the notepad I always kept close by. The attack on Jeremy put him more on the side of victim than murderer now. But who would want to kill both Tory and Jeremy? Was Cindy capable of such a terrible crime? But why would she want to hurt Jeremy? Maybe Jeremy didn't want to tell Brooke. Maybe he told Cindy he wanted nothing to do with the baby and that she was on her own. But why kill Tory? Was Tory just a decoy for the true focus of the murder, Jeremy? And what about Brooke? It was easy to forget about her because she was the bride-to-be, and it would seem strange for her to kill her maid of honor. Brooke did seem upset with Cindy on the day of the murder. Maybe she knew all about the baby and the horrible betrayal and she was just waiting for the right time to pounce on everyone. Maybe she thought killing Tory would throw the police off the motive trail. It was all playing out like a soap opera in my head, but it was hard to know if any of my theories were even close to reality. It seemed I was going to have to burn through a lot more shoe leather to get to the bottom of this.
But not in my new sandals, they were far too cute to ruin.
Chapter 30
I'd stayed late in town to have dinner at Raine's house. We'd decided to make grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches with some of Emily's summer tomato crop.
I patted my stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Nothing hits the spot like a grilled cheese. I sort of just trail mixed my lunch today, so I was extra hungry." I grabbed a dry dish towel and Raine washed the plates.
"Emily's tomatoes are so delicious," Raine noted. "I've just been slicing them and eating them plain. I think she should expand her crop and start a produce stand."
"I agree. Then I could offer local farm produce at the bed and breakfast. Looking so forward to opening that place. I love journalism, but it can be tiresome, especially when I'm writing mundane articles about bridges being spit-shined."
Raine plunged her arms into a mountain of suds. "I sure hope they do more than spit-shine that old bridge. I clench my teeth tight in fear every time I drive across it. I guess that would make an interesting story, huh? Local psychic and all-around nutjob falls to her death as bridge collapses."
I took the dish from her. "Raine, no one thinks you're a nutjob."
Her laugh sent a cluster of bubbles into the air. "Yes, they do. I can't even conjure a ghost up in the most haunted place in town, the Cider Ridge Inn. Then I predict something terrible will happen from Tarot cards and when the prediction comes true, I become a suspect instead of a psychic."
"First of all, you were never a suspect. Cindy was accusing you that day because she had a huge secret she was keeping from the bride. And maybe the Cider Ridge ghost is just shy." It was one of those moments when it was nearly impossible to bite my tongue and not blurt out that there was a ghost at the inn.
Raine handed me the last dish and drained the sink. "What do you mean? What secret?"
"I'll tell you, but keep it to yourself. I haven't let Lana know anything yet because I think the Stockton wedding might be cancelled soon. I don't want to be the one to break it to my sister. I know she was excited about landing that job." I rubbed the plate dry and put it in the cupboard.
Raine grabbed some sparkling water from her refrigerator, and we sat at her little kitchen table. Her front room generally smelled too much of incense and candles because that was where she ran her psychic business. I preferred the kitchen.
"I only have circumstantial evidence, no proof, but I think Cindy is pregnant and it seems all arrows point to Jeremy Stockton as the father."
Raine sat back hard against her chair. "That would explain some of the strange stuff at the campsite on the day of the murder. I thought the groom was acting a little too chivalrous and attentive to the bridesmaid. I caught Brooke shooting Cindy a lot of icy looks the ent
ire day. It was like high school all over again, only the main catalyst for their usual cattiness was dead. Their reactions seemed cold even for them. As you might imagine, they were not the nicest girls in high school."
"That is easy to imagine. But still, I wonder why was Brooke shooting icy looks at Cindy. She even spoke sharply about her when we were serving everyone lunch." I sipped some sparkling water and rubbed the tickle it left behind from my nose.
"Maybe Brooke knew about the baby," Raine suggested casually, but it was a brilliant suggestion.
I sat forward. "You might be right. If we were all sensing Jeremy's extra nice overtures toward Cindy, it's only logical that Brooke noticed too."
"I think there would have been a lot more chaos at the camp if Brooke had discovered the whole pregnancy scandal. Maybe she was just mad because he was paying too much attention to Cindy." Raine's phone buzzed. She grabbed it off the kitchen counter. "It's your sister."
She opened the text and read it. "Wow, what a wild coincidence." She looked up at me. "The Stockton wedding is off."
I pulled my phone out and dialed Lana. "Hey, I'm at Raine's. Why was the wedding called off?"
"Because of a typical storyline that plays out far too often. I don't know if this has anything at all to do with Tory's murder. In fact, it might be an entirely different subplot, but it seems the groom was having just a little too much fun with the bridesmaid."
"Cindy?"
Lana paused. "You already knew?"
"I've uncovered a few gritty facts. What do you know? I want to see if they match up."
"Apparently the tension and odd pairings at the campsite were due to the fact that Cindy had recently discovered that she was pregnant."
"With Jeremy's baby." I couldn't stop myself from interjecting. Lana made an irritated sound into the phone.
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