Death Over Spilt Chowder

by Wendy Meadows

  “Good evening,” Olivia said to her and ignored George pointedly.

  The three investigator-teers marched out of the building and into the night, Olivia burning to know the truth.

  Chapter 18

  The bottom line was Olivia needed hard evidence, or a solid connection of her suspect, George, to either the murder scene or the murder weapon.

  He’d technically been at the murder scene when the lights had gone out, but the connection to the murder weapon was more tenuous. Which meant she had some serious investigating to do.

  The morning had dawned bright and hot, with a warmth to the air which was all humidity. She’d stepped out of the shower wet, toweled off, and pretty much stayed half-liquid for the next hour.

  Jake had taken Sebby and Dodger and the other A’s to have breakfast, but she’d chosen to stay behind. Some things were more important than Eggs Benedict. Though, admittedly, there weren’t many.

  Olivia set out for the Garden Club, yawning but determined. After all the drama last night, she’d been nearly incapable of sleep and had drifted in and out of it for hours after they’d arrived back at the hotel.

  The sun glared down and she sneezed, yawned, then sneezed again. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered and hurried on. Finally, she arrived at the Garden Club and stormed up the steps and through the front door.

  The receptionist lurched up from behind her desk. “Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you?”

  “Not at the moment,” Olivia said and charged right on past her and down the hall toward Albert’s office.

  “Ma’am! You can’t go in there without permission. Ma’am?!”

  Olivia ignored the protests and halted in front of Albert’s office door. She rapped once, then let herself in quickly and shut it behind her again.

  Albert sat behind his desk, a newspaper spread across it, now staring at her, wide-eyed. “What on earth? What’s the meaning of this interruption? You can’t just walk in here unannounced, this is a place of business.”

  Olivia held the doorknob behind her and sighed. “I’m sorry to crash in on you like this, Albert, but we need to talk. Some information has come to light which may help exonerate you of the murder of Joseph Pines.”

  The man stammered, plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “I – what?”

  “I know you’re worried, Albert. Everyone does. Especially after last night and the charity event, but I’m on to something here and I think you can help me. With it, we can bring down the real murderer and clear your name for good. What do you say?”

  Albert gave a swallow, then nodded once and gestured to the chair in front of his desk with his handkerchief-wielding hand.

  A knock rattled the door just as Olivia pushed off from it. “Mr. Reed? Are you all right in there?”

  “Fine,” Albert called back. “I’m fine. Return to your station.”

  Olivia waited until the footsteps had receded in the hall, then scurried across to the seat in front of Albert’s desk and took it. She crossed her ankles, leaned forward, and placed her fingertips on the wood, levelling him with an intense gaze. “Albert, I think I know who did this, but I need some information from you before I can prove it.”

  The break had given the man some time to recoup his senses. He brushed his fingers over his stubbly chin, sniffed and said, “That depends entirely on the information you’re looking for.”

  “Karen was attacked here last night. Joseph, who used to sleep on your benches and enter the grounds, was killed. I think there’s a connection.”

  Albert began shaking his head. “I haven’t killed or hurt any—”

  “I know, I know,” Olivia said and waved a hand at him. “Tell me about Karen and George.”

  Albert blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know what I mean. They were a couple, seeing each other behind Belinda’s back, and they used your club to do it. I overheard you talking to Karen about it, and my partner and I spotted George and Karen canoodling last night.”

  The chubby man sighed and massaged his forehead. “Look, I feel terrible about it, but George was a friend of mine. We went to the same high school, for Pete’s sake, and when he told me he needed a place to be private with his lady, just for dinners and meals, mind, I assumed he meant with Belinda. It was only after the first time they met that I realized he was having an affair.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, what can I say? They spent a lot of time together here. At first, it was innocent and no one took notice, but then a few of my customers, you know some of them know Belinda well, started talking, and George recognized the need for subterfuge.”

  “What happened then?” Olivia asked, her pulse racing now. She was so close she could almost taste it.

  “I despised every minute of this next part, I’ll tell you that, but George insisted that if he was outed, Belinda would divorce him and it would be partly on my head. He was very manipulative, still is,” Albert continued, gulping along the way. “He asked for my help finding a secret passage into the Garden Club so that others wouldn’t see him, and for me to provide a totally private area for them to meet.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Well, in my office. They would meet here, and he would enter my grounds through a cut in the fence,” Albert said.

  Olivia gasped and pressed her fingers to her lips. “The hole in the fence! That’s where it came from. Right between the trees? That one?”

  “Yes. But how do you know about it?” Albert asked.

  “That doesn’t matter now,” she replied. “What does matter is that it’s closed up. Did you fence it off?”

  “What? No? I haven’t had a chance to go out there since all of this nonsense started up. It’s been a circus around here,” Albert replied. “People asking questions day and night.”

  “Oh gosh, oh gosh.” Olivia clasped her head in her hands for a moment and let it all settle in her brain. “So he would sneak in here and they would meet in the office. The very same office where you keep your collection of ivory handled knives.”

  “You don’t think…No! Not George.”

  “You said yourself that he’s a master manipulator,” Olivia said. “I think he stole the knife then closed the fence and tried covering his tracks.” She massaged her chest, right over the heart, then rose from her chair. “Is there anything else you can tell me, Albert? Anything at all?”

  “No, I – wait, wait, there was one thing. They used to leave notes or love letters out there for each other. Buried right under the tree. I – I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think it was relevant. You don’t think it is, do you?”

  The note which’d been found on Joseph’s body had been written by Karen. Had her lover tried to frame her for the murder?

  “I think it’s really relevant. And that I have to get out there right now and see if the box is still there. You call the cops, please. Get Newman out here as soon as you can!”

  “Will do,” Albert said shakily and made a grab for the phone.

  Olivia didn’t stick around to listen in. She had evidence to collect.

  Chapter 19

  It was eerie under the trees, even though it was broad daylight. Perhaps it was simply because Olivia knew who had come through here, what had transpired. Had George plotted Joseph’s demise as he walked beneath these very branches?

  Olivia shuddered and stepped lightly, careful not to disturb the trees and the underbrush. Regardless, her shoes trampled a few crunchy leaves here and there.

  She had to be close to the fence now. The noise of the fountain was close, as was the spot where Karen had been attacked the night before. The poor woman still hadn’t regained consciousness.

  Around her, birds swooped and whistled, and the trickle of water should’ve been soothing, but made the experience all the more eerie.

  “Come on, you’ll be fine,” Olivia muttered to herself. It gave her a little strength. After all, it was hardly likely that
George would return here after this much time had passed.

  He was likely more worried about Karen and what Newman might’ve found out about him.

  Olivia clung to that thought as she stepped over a rock. The fence came into sight between the trees, the mended part just to the left of her current course. She adjusted and hurried on, then came right up to it and stopped in line with the last of the trees.

  A strange scuffling noise came from the right, and her heart froze in her chest.

  What on earth was that?

  She inched forward, as quietly as she could, and peeked around the tree beside her.

  Olivia barely restrained a little shriek of terror. It climbed into her throat and took hold of her voice box.

  There, right underneath the nearest tree from hers, crouched George, the prime suspect, the sure-to-be murderer. He clutched a trowel in one hand and worried the dirt beneath the tree, frantic in his actions. Already, a pile of dirt had gathered beside him – he wore leather gloves, but his wrists were covered in dirt, and some clung to his forehead, mingling with the sweat there.

  Olivia didn’t dare move. She barely breathed.

  George muttered under his breath as he dug. “They’ll never find out. They’ll never know. She can’t wake up and tell them. I’ll kill her if I have to.”

  He’s talking about Karen. He wants to kill her to keep the first murder a secret. For the money? That must be it. Olivia was truly knee deep in it now. If she so much as moved, he’d see her.

  It was as if she’d been confronted with a particularly large, venomous cobra.

  But what if I can keep him here until the cops arrive? Yes, of course. Albert had called Detective Newman and surely told him what Olivia had come out here to find. If she could keep him here, Newman would have the opportunity to arrest him.

  George tossed the trowel aside and reached into the hole he’d dug with both hands. He drew out a shoebox, covered in dirt. He dusted off the top, now beaming a smile which could only be described as maniacal, and removed the lid.

  “Good,” he said and lifted a letter, which had a massive lipstick kiss on the front. “Good, no one will ever know. I’ll have to deal with Albert too. He can’t tell. He won’t. Even if I have to—”

  Olivia cleared her throat, pointedly, and stepped out from behind the tree, attempting bravery she didn’t feel in her gut.

  George spun around, snarling, and she almost lost her nerve. He was horrifying to behold, all mucky and mean and ready to pounce. His fingers trembled on the box, and he dropped the letter he’d held into it. “You,” he growled. “You’ve come to the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Hello, Mr. Gomez,” Olivia said loudly – in fact, as loudly as she could muster without shouting his name. “Fancy meeting you here. How are you today? Are you gardening?”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, you’ve been digging, and Albert told me he might want to hire a new gardener sometime soon. Did you know he employed Joseph Pines before his death?” It was total garbage, but what else could she do? She had to stall him.

  “What? He – wait, what?” George’s anger dropped in intensity a teensy bit and Olivia saw her opportunity.

  “He hired Joseph,” Olivia said and grasped firmly onto that straw. “In fact,” she whispered, and stepped a little closer to him. “I – listen, don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this, George, but I have sincere suspicions about Albert.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” George asked, the anger seeping fully out of him. Instead, his intrigue had been peaked. If she could keep him this way…

  “Meaning that I suspect he was the one who hurt Joseph,” Olivia continued. “I mean, it was his knife, after all. You have to say that’s pretty darn suspicious.”

  “Why, yes, yes it is.” It was George’s turn to grasp at straws.

  “And poor, poor Karen was attacked right here at the Garden Club. What’s to say it wasn’t him?”

  “Who? Albert?”

  “Yes, Albert,” Olivia continued. “What’s to say he didn’t use the whole charity event as a cover to get to her? There were rumors, you know. Apparently, he’d been sneaking her into his office on a regular basis to talk to her in private. Who knew what else might’ve been happening in there. Cavorting?” Perish the thought.

  “That’s not possible,” George said and a bit of the rage returned. His cheeks reddened. “He wouldn’t touch Karen. He knew that – never mind, he just wouldn’t.”

  “Anyways, whatever the case may be. I came out here for a walk and when I heard a noise in the trees I became concerned. If Albert can stab a poor man and potentially hurt an innocent young woman at a party in front of plenty of witnesses, who knows what he might do to an innocent gardener or friend wandering alone between the trees?”

  George looked over his shoulder as if danger might materialize there.

  Olivia couldn’t believe her luck, or rather, her proficiency at telling white lies in rapid succession. “Now, George, you must be careful out here. You know, your wife wouldn’t manage without you.”

  “My wife,” he said and turned back to her. His expression darkened. “My wife. Why are you always snooping around with my wife? What has she told you? What did she say?” He took a step forward, rage building higher, a flame fed by the mere mention of Belinda. There was madness in his eyes.

  Perhaps Karen’s accident had pushed him over the edge.

  “No, she hasn’t told me anything of note. Though, she did mention that you were in love with Karen. Not that it matters, of course,” Olivia said, gaze flickering past the man to the two figures approaching beneath the trees, creeping forward.

  Jake on the left. Newman on the right. Closing in fast.

  “She mentioned that you wanted her inheritance, that Joseph was her real brother,” Olivia said, twisting away from her white lies and toward the truth to shock him into action. “And I believe that’s true. I believe that you had a motivation to hurt Joseph. You had the means because you met with Karen in private and saw Albert’s knife collection. You had one of the notes she’d written you which made it seem like she wanted to meet Albert rather than you and you planted that on his body after you had done the deed. You—”

  George leaped toward her, tossing the box back in his desperation to get to her. “I’ll—”

  “Freeze! Put your hands up or I’ll shoot,” Newman growled.

  George faltered, flailed and fell forward on the ground right in front of Olivia. She backed up several steps, eyes wide.

  Detective Newman paced forward, his weapon out and his cuffs in his other hand. “George Gomez, you are under arrest for the murder of Joseph Pines and the attempted murder of Karen Gillan.”

  “No!”

  “Give it a rest,” Jake said. “Karen came out of a coma an hour ago and told Newman everything. We know you did it. We know why you did it.” He came to Olivia’s side and looped his arm around her waist, then kissed her temple.

  Newman read the murderer his rights, cuffed him and carted him off, with Olivia and Jake in tow. It was finally over.

  But for Olivia, it was just the beginning.

  Chapter 20

  The holiday had been anything but relaxing, of course, and Olivia couldn’t help the joy she felt standing behind the counter in her Choc-A-Block Shoppe back in Chester.

  “Happy to be home, dear?” Alberta asked.

  “Overjoyed, actually,” Olivia replied. “I’ll be honest, Alberta, I’ve had enough investigating murders to last me a lifetime.”

  “Oh dear, well that’s not good. What if another one happens? Could you really turn down the opportunity to investigate?” The old A’s wrinkles were more pronounced, deepened by concern. She’d cultivated a tan in Florida, and she looked lovely. Revitalized and fresh.

  At least Olivia’s staff had had their vacation.

  “Albie, I don’t even want to think about investigations at this point. Right now, all I want to focus on is making chocolates and e
ating them.”

  “A fine calling,” Albie replied, then scuttled off toward the kitchen, her apron already smeared with a bit of chocolate from this morning’s work.

  Olivia returned her focus to the chocs, a smile creeping across her lips. The strawberry delights, the mint cremes, the hazelnut praline truffles, they all looked delightful beneath the glass and they tasted even better.

  The interior of the shop bustled with activity. People were eating chocs or drinking coffees. Some had bought the cookies which an elderly woman down the street had baked and delivered to Olivia as a means of earning some pocket money.

  Outside, the sun shone down on the street, still wet from an early morning shower, and it wasn’t humid in the slightest.

  She was back in Chester, and she could only be happy about it. Funny how now that the place had crept into her heart and she’d become accustomed to the people who lived here and the manner in which they interacted, she couldn’t picture herself living anywhere else in the world. Not even in sunny Florida, which had been an adventure in its own right.

  Olivia picked up a rag from behind the register and set about polishing it and the counter while she waited for the lunch hour rush.

  The bell above the door tinkled and in came Jake, grinning as he always did when he entered the chocolate-scented interior of the store. “Morning,” he called out. “Smells like heaven in here.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Olivia replied.

  Jake stopped a few times on the way to the counter and greeted some of the regulars. He waved to Alphonsine at the coffee machine, then wended his way over to Olivia. His grin widened even more, if that was possible. “You look lovely today,” he said. “Being back home agrees with you.”

  “Surprisingly, going on a vacation didn’t agree with me at all.”

  “I think it was less the vacation and more the crazy events which transpired while we were on vacation,” Jake said, but sighed regardless. “I’m sorry it turned out that way, Olivia. I’d hoped that we’d have a fantastic time and that it would advance our friendship a little more.”