Suddenly, Emily bit her lip and her face flushed. “I feel like my hair is on fire, OK? I’m trying to run a business. Now I have to deal with the stress of a murder investigation too? You three know me. I wouldn’t kill someone over music and a couple parking spots.”
I awkwardly patted Emily’s arm, like I was petting a small dog. It was bad. But I’m not good at comforting people and it was the best I could do. “It’s OK. We’re going to find whoever did this and business will be back to normal soon.”
Emily nodded. “I was in the shop all day, by the way. So I have an alibi.”
“That’s going to help a lot if the police come sniffing around,” said Miss May. “Especially because you have those security cameras outside. If you didn’t go in or out all day, then that firmly establishes that you were in the shop, working, at the time of Todd’s death.”
We’d used Emily’s security cameras to help us solve another investigation, and Miss May was right. The footage from the time of Todd’s murder would be a strong defense for Emily.
Emily looked down. “The cameras aren’t working. I shouldn’t have gotten the cheapest ones I could find online. They haven’t been functioning for a few weeks. But I figured they keep the criminals away even if they don’t work, so I left them up.”
Miss May maintained her composure. “OK. That’s alright, nothing to worry about. Did you have a lot of customers yesterday? Those transactions can prove your whereabouts.”
Emily hesitated, then, “No. For some reason it was slow. Wayne was the first customer I’d had in hours.”
“Ouch,” said Teeny. “I thought you were doing well. Don’t people love your ice cream.”
“They love it in the summer. But winter was long and hard. There were lots of days in January and February where your peanut butter ice cream with extra pink sprinkles was my only sale.”
Teeny shook her head. “I thought you had such a good location, even for winter.”
“I thought the location was going to be good too! But the foot traffic there is not nearly as good as the landlord promised.”
I snapped my fingers. “The landlord. That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to find out… who owns that building?”
Emily laughed.
“You’re laughing.” Teeny crossed her arms. “But I don’t get it. I don’t like when I don’t get the joke.”
“I’m laughing because my landlord is so ridiculous. Don’t any of you know him? Damien Hamilton. What a weird guy.”
The three of us shrugged. None of us knew Hamilton. Pine Grove was a small town but people did business there from all over the local area, and we were always meeting residents we’d never come across before.
“If I give you Hamilton’s phone number, will you leave me alone and let me go to the spa?” Emily’s bottom lip quivered. “I really need my volcanic body scrub.”
Miss May nodded. “Can you tell us anything about this Hamilton? Is he dangerous?”
Emily shrugged. “One out of every two of his renters gets murdered in cold blood.”
11
Café au Murder
We left Emily’s and went to the Brown Cow to strategize over a cup of coffee. It was a good place to chat. And it didn’t hurt that the little coffee shop was one of the coziest places on earth.
Yeah, that’s a bold statement. So let me explain with an anecdote.
After my parents died when I was in middle school, I didn’t have much solace in Pine Grove. Everywhere I looked, I saw the morose reminders of my parents. The friendly faces of Miss May, Teeny and our groundskeeper, KP, were helpful. But most of the time, I didn’t know what to do with myself, or with my sorrow. So I joined Miss May on all her errands, and that became my social life.
Brian, the owner of the Brown Cow, had been so kind to me every time we went in the cafe. Whenever we went in, he’d gave me a hot chocolate in the largest cup he had available with a whole can of whipped cream on top. Eventually, he bought a fishbowl sized mug that said Chelsea on it, and he’d serve me my giant hot chocolates in that mug with a smile.
Those hot chocolates were a small gesture. But they made me feel like I was connected to my town and my community and to Brian at the Brown Cow. I’ll never forget the feeling of that big, warm mug in my hands. I remember I would force myself to drink the hot chocolate slowly so Miss May and I would have a reason to stay in the coffee shop for as long as possible. She once read four entire newspapers cover to cover before I finished my drink. But I didn’t read while I sipped. I watched the people come and go.
Sometimes the parents with their children would make me feel a little sad. But more than anything, the people in the coffee shop made me feel like I was home. And that feeling had never gone away.
That day, like so many others that had come before it, Brian served us our drinks with a big smile and he complimented each of us on something we were wearing. Brian said Miss May had the coolest flannel shirts in town. He pretended to be blinded by the sparkle of Teeny’s necklace. Then he told me in his relaxed, Southern California drawl, that my boots were tough and elegant at the same time. We all complimented him back, of course. Teeny, weirdly, said he had “beautiful hairs” instead of beautiful hair. That made us all laugh. Teeny was so quirky sometimes.
Anyway, after the small talk we retreated to our little spot by the window and processed our conversation with Emily.
None of the three of us could decide whether or not Emily’s behavior seemed normal or guilty or what. It was strange that Emily was leaving town on the heels of a murder. But it was also true that murders were stressful. And we all agreed we could go for a volcanic body scrub right about then, too.
Teeny got held up on the fact that Emily’s security cameras were not functioning. She thought it was suspicious. And I had to admit, it was odd. Emily’s security cameras had been extremely helpful on a prior investigation. So it seemed to me she would have wanted to keep them fully functioning in case anything went awry in the future. But running a business can be hard. The to-do list for small business owners is often never-ending. So we all agreed, Emily’s broken cameras weren’t enough to indict her. Although if the cameras could have proved her innocence, that would have been simpler.
After much conversation, Miss May pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number Emily had given her for the landlord, Damien Hamilton. I could hear the phone ring on the other end of the line twice before someone picked up.
“Hello! I’m looking for Damien Hamilton,” said Miss May.
Teeny leaned forward. “Don’t say you’re an amateur sleuth.”
I nudged Teeny and she sat back. Miss May continued the conversation.
“I’m a writer for the Pine Grove Gazette and I want to interview the small business leaders in our community.”
A muffled voice on the other end of the line responded to Miss May. I was disappointed that Miss May couldn’t put the call on speaker because we were in a public place. But I leaned in to hear more and I could tell the voice sounded angry.
“Well I think you are a business leader, Mr. Hamilton. I don’t know why you’d say you’re not, just because—”
Miss May waited as he responded.
“What does it matter how I got your number? I’m a journalist, that’s what I do. There’s—”
Miss May waited through another interruption from Hamilton. Then, she interrupted him. “There’s a cash reward that comes with this. I didn’t want to tell you but you were named Best in Pine Grove in the landlord and real estate category. The reward is ten thousand dollars.”
Miss May winced as she listened to Hamilton’s reply, then her face relaxed. She smiled. “Terrific. We’re having a photo session for all of our winners at the gazebo right here in the center of town. I’m sorry for the short notice but can you meet there in an hour or so for your session? If you can’t make it the cash and award will have to go to the runner up. I agree it’s not fair but that’s how it works.”
Miss May give u
s the thumbs up as she listened. “That’s perfect. See you then.” Then she hung up the phone and smiled at us, proud. “Not bad, eh?”
Teeny did her tiny little golf claps. “That was amazing. You baited the hook nice with that fake prize money. Brilliant.”
“That guy was so angry, I had to do something to get through to him.”
“We’re meeting with him in an hour?” I asked.
Miss May nodded.
Teeny licked her lips. “I can’t wait to see what he looks like. I bet he has a really long beard and bushy eyebrows and bright blue glasses.”
I looked over at Teeny. “That’s awfully specific.”
Teeny shrugged. “Emily said he’s weird. And I have a vivid imagination.”
Miss May, Teeny, and I arrived at the Pine Grove gazebo for our meeting with Damien five minutes earlier than the scheduled time. The March sky was vibrant blue with a few puffs of pure white clouds. Spring birds sang overhead in the budding trees. And a perfect, light breeze swept through my hair. The setting was ideal, except for one thing…
Damien was not there to meet us. Instead, Wayne was sitting on the steps of the gazebo. He stood as we approached and crossed his arms.
“Wayne. Hi.” I gave Wayne an awkward hug. “How are you? Isn’t it such a beautiful day today?”
Wayne pulled out of the hug. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was tight. “Yeah right, Chelsea. Pull out that bologna sandwich you’re trying to feed me and hold it up to the light. Because that bologna is covered in mold and you need to discard it immediately due to health risks.”
I scrunched up my nose. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m onto your bologna, is what I’m trying to say,” Wayne grumbled. “Damien Hamilton called and said you three were conducting an unsanctioned investigation into the death of his tenant.”
Teeny propped her hands on her hips. “Damien what now? I’ve never met a single person named Damien. I don’t know anybody with a long beard and bushy eyebrows and strange glasses.”
“Save your weird garble for more gullible prey. Damien Hamilton reverse-traced Miss May’s phone number. Showed me the name that called him and proved that the call lasted a few minutes. Said you offered some kind of bogus reward?”
Miss May stammered. She couldn’t find the right words to reply.
“Now I’m not going to call Flanagan on this. But you can’t go around conning people with the promise of fake prizes. And you need to stay away from this investigation. Can you promise me that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miss May said. “I called Mr. Hamilton to inquire about renting a storefront in Pine Grove.”
Wayne laughed to himself in annoyance. “I wish you respected me more than that, Miss May. You too, Chelsea. Teeny… you get a free pass. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Thank you,” said Teeny.
“Stay away from the investigation. Also, Chelsea, I was wondering if you might like to join me for a movie matinee next Friday around noon?”
“Um, yeah. That should be OK.”
Wayne gave us a polite nod, then walked over to his unmarked cop car, got in and drove away. My stomach dropped as he disappeared. Who was this Damien Hamilton guy?
And why was he interfering in our investigation?
12
No Cones About It
The three of us stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. Damien had tattled on us to the police. A suspect had never gotten out ahead of us like that before and it felt strange.
I wouldn’t say that Teeny, Miss May, and I had gotten a bit arrogant from all of our successfully solved cases. But a certain confidence had emerged among us. That confidence was necessary in many ways. It gave us the motivation to pursue our ideas and follow our leads. But that day with Damien, we saw what the bad side of confidence might be. We hadn’t been careful enough. We should have hidden Miss May’s number. We should have thought things through before we contacted Damien. But we didn’t do any of that. We were reckless and we paid the price. Thanks to Damien, the Pine Grove Police Department knew we were on the case, and that was not good.
Sure, the Pine Grove PD probably already assumed we were investigating Todd’s death. But there was a brief window of time, in every investigation, where Teeny, Miss May and I managed operate under the radar. We had blown that opportunity and we knew we would have to be careful moving forward.
The sound of an ice cream truck driving by brought me back to reality. I turned around to look for the truck but couldn’t see it anywhere. “Why is it every time I hear an ice cream truck it’s impossible to spot?”
Miss May pointed down the road a bit. Sure enough, an ice cream truck was heading through Pine Grove looking for customers. The truck disappeared from sight after a few seconds and I shook my head. “Whoever owns that ice cream truck is a true opportunist. They must have heard that Cherry on Top is closed today and they’re here to scoop up some business. Pun intended, unfortunately. Do you know who owns it?”
“I think Sam over at Cohen’s Cones owns that truck,” said Teeny. “He’s got a great ice cream spot out on the highway, remember? I feel bad. It’s been a long time since I’ve visited Sam’s place. But with Cherry on Top right here in town, I haven’t had the need to trek out for Sam’s treats.”
“Interesting.” Miss May rubbed her chin. “There’s a murder in Pine Grove. The owner of Cherry on Top is the most likely suspect. And the shadow of that suspicion causes Cherry on Top to close. Less than one day later, Sam is in town pedaling ice cream of his own.”
“Do you think Sam killed Todd and framed Emily to get more ice cream business?” I couldn’t hide the incredulity in my voice.
“I don’t think it’s a very good theory, either,” said Miss May. “There’s no evidence that the killer framed Emily for the murder. And Sam is a sweet man. Not a killer.”
“I think that Damien sleazebag killed Todd,” said Teeny. “Damien Hamilton. What a sleazy name.”
Miss May sat on the steps of the gazebo, right where Wayne had been sitting. “If Damien was the killer why would he call the police after we contacted him?”
“Simple misdirection,” I said. “Besides, we catch killers and the police don’t.”
“I don’t buy it,” said Miss May. “Damien could have stood us up once he realized we were lying about the Best in Pine Grove award. Now that he’s called the cops he’s on their list of suspects. Prior to calling them, I doubt the cops even knew Damien Hamilton’s name.”
“I think it was a setup,” Teeny said. “Damien agreed to meet us, then sent Wayne in order to keep us busy. This was a wild goose hunt—”
“Wild goose chase,” I said, emphasizing ‘chase.’
“Whatever, Chelsea. You get what I’m saying. What if Damien sent Wayne after us in order to free up time for Damien to commit another murder or to cover his tracks? Think about it. The three of us are the best amateur sleuths in the whole United States. We catch every killer in Pine Grove. And Wayne is the best cop that the Pine Grove Police Department has. By calling the cops and telling them to meet us here, Damien guaranteed that there wouldn’t be any great detectives hunting down the killer for at least an hour or two.”
Miss May stood up. “That’s an interesting theory.”
Teeny slapped her knee. “It’s a Teeny classic. What I do is, I think like the criminal and I see the master plan in my brain so clear. Like a picture from a coloring book. Everything falls into place inside the lines. I astound myself.”
“You astound me, too,” I said. “For all sorts of reasons.”
Teeny crossed her arms. “Why are you being so sassy all of a sudden? Admit that I had a good idea.”
I held up my hand. “I admit it! I’m sorry. What do you to think we should do now?”
Teeny smiled. “I think we should call Damien and pretend we’re a little old man who wants to rent an empty parcel of land for an elaborate art project involving papier-mâché, three tons
of Elmer’s glue, and a hundred tiny Christmas trees.”
“What kind of art project is that?” I said.
“I don’t know, Chelsea. It’s a papier-mâché covered tiny tree glue installation. Sorry I’m not a fancy New York City art snob like you.”
“I’m not an art snob,” I protested. “I don’t know anything about art.”
“Will both of you just stop talking?” said Miss May.
Teeny and I followed Miss May’s orders. I swallowed a laugh. Going back and forth with Teeny always helped lighten the mood in our murder investigations. Teeny almost laughed, too. Miss May, however, stayed serious. “I appreciate your intuition and your creative ideas, Teeny. But the papier-mâché baby trees plan is not going to work. If we call Damien and make up a bogus plan about an art project, he’ll sniff it out from a mile away. He’ll know it’s a trap.”
“So we’re stuck,” said Teeny. “Emily is a fugitive. Damien Hamilton is evading us. And we don’t have any strong clues other than that lease.”
“I’m not even sure the lease is a clue,” I said.
“So what do we do now?” said Teeny. “Go visit Todd’s whacky family? See if one of them murdered him?”
“The wife and kids are suspects,” said Miss May. “But I’m hung up on Hamilton. We need to talk to him. But how are we going to question him if he won’t come anywhere near us?”
“I doubt he knows what we look like,” I said. “Let’s just find out where he lives and go have a conversation.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Miss May. “If Hamilton is savvy enough to reverse search a phone number and send Wayne after us, I’m sure he knows what each of us looks like. We’ve been in the paper too many times to benefit from anonymity.”
“So we need disguises,” said Teeny.
“Hamilton will see through that, too” said Miss May.
I raised my eyebrows. “Not if we get help from Pine Grove’s master of disguise herself…”
No Cone Unturned (Apple Orchard Cozy Mystery Book 12) Page 5