A Dodgy Death

by Jacqueline M Green

  “It will probably take a few minutes,” Jaime whispered. “They’ll want to make sure you’ve not forgotten something and have to come back for it.”

  He looked at Clarissa pointedly. She made a face at him, then shrugged. “That’s fair.”

  Just when I thought our plan was doomed to failure, a squeee-aaak on the back porch made my breath catch in my throat.

  “You’ll want to get that fixed,” Jaime whispered with a nervous grin.

  “Never,” I replied.

  We crept toward the kitchen. Even as we heard the doorknob twist, a noise came from the front foyer. The dead bolt fell away, and the door clicked open.

  Jaime and I stared at each other, open-mouthed. Two thieves?

  We heard steps in the kitchen, and Jaime burst into the room. “Stop where you are.”

  Cousin Franklin stood just inside the back door, his mouth open in surprise. He turned to run into the back yard toward the gate, Jaime on his heels.

  Footsteps quickly retreated in the hall toward the front door. Clarissa and I raced down the hallway, exploding onto the front porch. A shadow flew up the sidewalk to the left, so we pounded down the steps in pursuit.

  We ran past several houses and across the street. The shadow darted in between two houses and disappeared.

  I stopped just outside the gate he had gone through, gasping for breath. I turned to Clarissa.

  “Who lives here?” I demanded.

  Clarissa stared mutely at the gate.

  “I do.”

  Chapter 26

  “What do you mean? How can this be your house?”

  Clarissa stared at me as if I had rocks for brains, which I felt I did at that moment. “It’s my house, Kat.”

  “Is anyone home?”

  She shook her head. “Nate is still at work and Hugh had an interview in London. A few guests might be in.”

  She walked around the corner to the front and stepped up to the door, stopping to take a shaky breath before turning the knob.

  She put a finger to her lips as we stepped into the silent foyer. “I don’t want to disturb my guests,” she whispered, pointing up the stairs.

  Her house had a similar layout to Aunt Selma’s. We crept down the hallway on tiptoes and stopped, practically falling over each other as a light flickered on in the kitchen and heavy footsteps clomped across the floor.

  “Hugh?” Clarissa straightened up and marched into the kitchen.

  A yelp came from just inside, followed by the sound of a toppling jar and a knife thunking on the floor.

  “Jesus, Clarissa! What are you doing, trying to scare a man like that?”

  Clarissa leaned against the doorway, one hand to her heart, the other on her forehead. “Hugh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting you home just yet. How did the interview go?”

  Hugh Clark picked up the knife and mayo jar from the floor, then shrugged with one in each hand.

  “I think it went quite well. We seemed to get on. He liked my experience. I told him I could start tomorrow if he wanted, but he had a few more candidates to interview, he said. Crossed fingers.”

  He and Clarissa held up crossed fingers at each other in a hopeful sign. It was quick, but as Hugh’s fingers flew through the light, they looked … purple.

  I reached into my pocket for the flashlight Jaime had handed me. “Oh, Hugh, your hand.”

  Clarissa looked at me curiously, then at Hugh. “Did you scrape your hand up today, luv?”

  Hugh stuck his hand behind his back. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s nothing. Just banged it a bit.”

  “Give it here and let me see.” Clarissa pulled his hand away from his back in the way only a sister, or in this case, sister-in-law, could. She turned his hand over in both of hers and shook her head. “Looks fine to me.”

  I swallowed hard as I pulled out the flashlight. “Let me see with this.”

  Before Clarissa to protest, I swept the black light over the top of Hugh’s hand, but everything seemed fine.

  “See here, Kat, I don’t thi—”

  The words caught in Clarissa’s throat as I turned his hand over and swept the light across the palm. It lit up bright purple under the light.

  I dropped his hand and looked solemnly at Clarissa.

  “Here now, what’s this then? What’s that I’ve got on my hand?” Hugh held up his hand, which just looked smudged when the light wasn’t shining directly on it.

  “Oh, Hugh.” Clarissa covered her face with one hand as she reached for a chair with another. She sat down, her legs shaking. “How could you?”

  “How could I what? What are you going on about, Clarissa? What ideas has this crazy Yank put in your head? She’s quite near as loony as her aunt.”

  Clarissa took a deep breath, then covered her mouth with her hand. “You tell him,” she whispered.

  “We painted the front and back doorknobs with paint that can only be seen under black light. It was a trap.”

  Hugh quickly looked at his hand, then back at me.

  “The thief’s hand would turn purple after touching the paint.”

  Hugo stared at his hand, then turned an angry gaze on Clarissa. “You tried to trick me? We’re family.”

  “I didn’t know it was you.” Clarissa’s face crumpled. “I hope that’s all you did.”

  Hugh turned back to me. “You didn’t find the illustrations at all.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, no. I did. They’re someplace safe.”

  The silence in the room felt heavy.

  “Hugh, I have to know. Did you kill Selma as well?” Clarissa swallowed hard.

  Hugh slumped against the countertop, his eyes on his sister-in-law.

  “You have to believe me, Clare. I never meant to hurt her. I overheard you and her talking about the illustrations. You didn’t believe her that they were worth anything, but I did. I found her at the top of the stairs at her house one day. I told her I could find a buyer for them in London and I would split the proceeds with her. Then I could move out of your house and into a proper place of my own, get back on my feet again in the city. I’m so bloody tired of being on the dole, bloody worthless lunk.”

  “What happened?” I gestured for him to continue.

  “She told me no, that she didn’t trust the likes of me and to get out of her house. I shook her by both of her shoulders, lifted her right off the floor and I set her back down too rough. She couldn’t catch her balance and she tumbled all the way down the stairs. She was already dead when I got to the bottom of the steps.”

  “You left her there to die alone?” Clarissa’s eyes were angry and accusing. “How could you? You were raised better than that.”

  Hugh nodded and hung his head. “I just wanted to feel like a man again.”

  He waved the butter knife around in his hand. Clarissa gasped, but I reached over and gently removed it. I don’t think he even knew he was still holding it.

  Then I stepped away from Hugh and pulled out my cell phone to call Jaime. Hugh’s head was bowed. Clarissa wrapped a hand around his neck and laid her head on his chest. They both sobbed quietly.

  Chapter 27

  “And then I shined the light on Hugh’s hand, and it was purple.” My voice had a note of triumph that I didn’t even try to hide.

  Jared had listened quietly to the whole tale, interrupting occasionally to ask a question and make appropriate listening sounds. Now he was quiet.

  “What?” I asked, laughing.

  “Nothing, babe. It’s just that I haven’t heard you laugh like that and be that excited about things in a very long time, years even.” His voice sounded sad. In the silence that followed, I could almost see him biting his lower lip. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

  I finally said the words I knew to be true. “No, I’m not coming back, at least not for quite some time.”

  Suddenly my heart felt lighter and a smile broke out on my face. That moment when you give voice to the truth, even when you didn’t know it was tr
ue.

  “I’m sorry, Jared, that it hasn’t worked out better between us, but I really feel like this is the right decision.” My hand felt sweaty as it grasped the phone. “I’m so sorry to hurt you.”

  Jared cleared his throat. “No, it’s my fault. I’ve known for a long time that it wasn’t going to happen. I just really really wanted it to.”

  “I’m a fool to let you go,” I said and meant it. “You are such a wonderful and lovely man.”

  “I know.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice, so I smiled, too.

  After discussing what we could do with my things and promising to talk again soon, we clicked off. I sat silently on the porch, grasping the phone to my heart.

  I finally set it down and picked up the mug of tea, cradling it and breathing in the steamy scent. My eyes wandered around the back yard.

  Follow the path …

  I sat bolt upright, nearly spilling the tea all over myself. Then I set down the mug and swept through the back door, staring at the stone pavers. Follow the path....

  Surely, she didn’t. No, she couldn’t have. I peered closely at the pavers, then ran back into the house for a butter knife. I got down on my hands and knees and poked around the edges of each paver. Nope, they were wedged in tight.

  I sat back on my knees. Follow the path … and then I knew.

  I jumped up, brushing off my knees and ran back into the house, through the long hallway to the foyer. I stared at the stairwell. Each stair had a patterned nonstick material glued to it so that guests wouldn’t slip on the stairs during wet weather. It looked like a pathway up the stairs.

  I went step by step, tapping on each to hear which one sounded different. When I got to the fourth step from the bottom, just where the staircase turned, my tap-tap-tapping became a clunk! I tapped again. Clunk!

  My hands shaking with excitement, I used the butter knife from the kitchen to pry off the top of the step. Pulling it up, I peered inside. There inside a clear plastic bag, lay another long narrow bow just like the other three.

  I didn’t need to open it, but I did anyway. Inside was the fourth and final illustration. I sat on the step, the box in my lap and smiled.

  “Thank you for the clues, Aunt Selma,” I whispered into the empty foyer.

  A light tapping at the front door brought me out of my reverie. Jaime, Clarissa, Corbyn and Alex stood on the porch, waving through the front window, their hands filled with bags and coffee.

  I waved them in and showed them what I had found. Alex held up two bags. “Might we continue this conversation in the kitchen?”

  We all agreed, laughing and talking as we jumbled down the hallway together. I set the box on top of the refrigerator to get it out of the way.

  “We thought you would like a proper American breakfast before you leave town,” Alex said, pulling a tray of scrambled eggs from one of the bags, followed by a tray of hash browns.

  Clarissa dumped out a couple of plates with pancakes and syrup in little containers.

  “These are from the fast-food place, but they’ll have to do, luv. I don’t make hotcakes.”

  I jumped up to help Jaime get plates and utensils. As we gathered around the table, Jaime filled us in on the case. It had been a few days since the arrests, but he had been too busy with paperwork and tying up loose ends to check in.

  He scooped potatoes and eggs onto his plate, pausing to, well, give us the scoop. “Apparently, it was McPherson and your cousin who tried to break into the house through the back door and the office. Franklin also mucked about when Selma was out the house.”

  My mouth fell open. “She knew something wasn’t quite right.”

  Jaime held my eyes. “It wasn’t much to go on, but she was right. Then it was Hugh who climbed through the upstairs window after he saw you leave with Franklin.”

  Hugh hadn’t made the suspect list because his first name didn’t have an obvious hard “C” sound. Now, I realized that Aunt Selma was probably trying to warn me about “Clarissa’s brother-in-law, Hugh” or possibly Cousin Franklin.

  Clarissa kept her eyes on her plate. I reached over and covered one of her hands with mine. She grasped my hand gratefully, then we each wiped away tears.

  Jaime and Alex pretended not to notice as they dug into their food. After giving us a few moments, Jaime went on.

  “Because Hugh didn’t have a record and because I tend to believe him when he said it was an accident, he hopefully won’t be in prison too awfully long.”

  He spoke quietly, glancing over at Clarissa, who nodded as if she had already been told as much.

  Then he turned to me. “Kat, it’s up to you if you decide to press charges against McPherson and Franklin. They didn’t actually take anything, but they did break and enter.”

  I returned my attention to my food. I hadn’t decided yet if I would press charges. McPherson was old and Franklin was family. It was a tough call. I would worry about it later.

  As we shoveled through the food, I looked around the table at these faces I had grown fond of in such a short time.

  I sighed a loud, overly dramatic sigh. “This is lovely, but I suppose I’m just going to have to get used to English breakfasts.”

  Jaime paused, a forkful of potatoes hanging in midair on the way to his mouth. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “You’re staying?” Clarissa’s face lit up.

  “I’m staying.” My smile felt big enough to break my face. “And Corbyn is moving home, too.”

  Clarissa beamed at the old man, who smiled gently and sat back, his hands over his stomach.

  Only Alex didn’t cheer. He looked down at his plate, moving his food around.

  “Just what we need, one more American who thinks she owns the place,” he muttered.

  “I do own the place,” I said, waving grandly toward the house.

  “Oh, bother, now we’ll never hear the end of it.” Alex looked up, his dark eyes twinkling. “Welcome home, Kat, welcome home.”

  A Stodgy Slaying

  A Kat McCoy Lake Country Cozy Mystery, Book 2

  Just when Kat McCoy is settling into England’s Lake District and learning to run her aunt’s B&B, a journalist from London shows up, demanding to see newly discovered illustrations by Beatrix Potter found in her aunt’s business. Kat turns him down flat. She has enough on her plate with the newly renovated B&B mysteriously falling apart at the seams.

  But then the journalist turns up dead on her doorstep with Kat standing over him with a knife in her hand. Cumbria constable (and new pal) Jaime Allen is forced to consider Kat a suspect. Can Kat clear her name before the B&B’s grand re-opening, or will her next residence be in Her Majesty’s prison?

  To be released: February 11, 2021.

  Available on Amazon here.

  Corpse Pose, Indeed

  Book 1 of The Yoga Mat Cozy Mystery Series by Jacqueline M. Green

  You're not supposed to actually die during Corpse Pose. When a student does just that and suspicion falls on yoga teacher Mariah Stevens, she must find the killer while still practicing ahimsa and swilling mochas (because life is all about balance, right?).

  As evidence piles up, Mariah’s friends and students have her back, but will it be enough to keep her out of jail and save her fledgling studio?

  Available from Amazon here.

  About the author

  When Jacqueline M. Green first heard of “cozy mysteries,” she thought her sister had brilliantly made up the term. She was delighted to discover it was a genre all its own, with tons of stories about crafting, quilting, knitting and cooking. Her first cozy mystery series was set in a fictional yoga studio in California. Jacqueline loves to travel and fell in love with England’s Lake District, so her second cozy mystery series is set there.

  A public school teacher and certified yoga instructor, Jacqueline lives in Northern Nevada with two cats, two dogs and a teenager.

  From the author

  Thank you so much fo
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