Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection 2

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Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection 2 Page 9

by Sonia Parin


  “Okay,” Joshua said. “I’m going to ask Markus to let you inside Bert Howington’s room.”

  Abby gave a nervous chuckle. “Oh… Great.”

  Markus’ cell phone rang. Clearly, Joshua had wasted no time contacting him. “Are you sure you want me to let the snoopy reporter in?” Markus grinned at her.

  In the next instant, Joshua appeared at the door, a cell phone in each hand. “You’re not the only one with two cell phones.”

  Doyle barked and scurried to stand in front of Abby. “Oh, yes. Now you bark.”

  Mitch and Markus excused themselves and left Abby to face the music. Cowards, Abby thought.

  “You are relentless.” Joshua barely managed to contain his laughter.

  Abby grinned. “And thank goodness for that?”

  He scanned the room. “Did you touch anything?”

  “Heavens, no. What if I left a fingerprint? I wouldn’t want to incriminate myself. Being held under suspicion once has been enough.” She pointed at a coffee cup. “Has it been tested for residue?”

  Joshua nodded. “Swabbed.”

  Abby picked up a teabag from a basket which held a selection of different flavors. “This is a needle in a haystack. You’d have to search all the tourists.”

  “And what would we be looking for?”

  Abby lifted both shoulders. “Someone could have given Bert candy laced with digitalis. Or… Maybe someone offered him a sugar substitute. You know, something like Stevia.”

  “And how do you think the digitalis got into the little packet?”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” To illustrate her point, she dangled the teabag. “See, the little string is held by a staple.” Abby frowned. “I can’t believe no one’s come up with a better alternative.”

  “You can get them without the staple,” Joshua said.

  “Can you? Oh, yes you can. But then, you have to fish it out with a spoon.” She shook her head. “I’ll stick to coffee. Anyway, I’m sure if someone put their mind to it, they might be able to undo the staple, open the little packet and replace the contents with a mixture that included digitalis. And, voila. The same goes for the sugar substitute. With enough care, I’m sure one could open a little satchel, replace the contents and reseal it.”

  Joshua tilted his head and studied her for a moment. “Did you just come up with that?”

  “I’d like to take credit, but I’ve watched enough TV shows to know this could be done.” When Joshua gave her a raised eyebrow look, she said, “What? I do extensive reading and trawling around the Internet, but I also watch TV. Are you surprised?”

  “I’m surprised at the information you store in your mind.”

  “What can I say? You never know when all that useless information will come in handy.”

  “Searching for ways to kill people?” He laughed.

  “My mom tried to cultivate my sense of curiosity.”

  “I hope you realize, the information you get on TV is not always correct. For instance, DNA testing isn’t done overnight.”

  Abby shook her head. “Someone must know something. Someone must have noticed something.” But no one had said anything because they didn’t suspect foul play, she thought. “Have you made an inroad into the tourists’ backgrounds?”

  Frowning, Joshua tapped his watch. “It’s after eleven.”

  “Huh?”

  “Eleven in the evening.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t realized. My goodness. Time flies when you’re…” She looked down at herself. “Dressed as a cat burglar.”

  “Yes, I wanted to ask…”

  Abby grimaced. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Working on a crime board by myself is…” Dull, Abby thought, and she’d only been at it for half an hour. “Having people around does make a difference,” she told Doyle. Turning, she checked to see if he hadn’t dozed off. “Oh, good. You’re still awake.”

  Doyle gave a halfhearted wag of his tail and yawned.

  “Fine. I guess you want to go to bed. Come on.” She went through their little ritual of plumping up his doggy bed and sitting cross-legged beside him to tell him about her day. “You missed quite a bit today. I guess the weather makes you want to snooze. I wonder if you saw something odd. Remember, you’re my star cub reporter. You need to be my eyes and ears. Although, if you did see something, how would you tell me? All right, buddy. Have a good night. I still have some work to get through.”

  Abby spent the next half hour standing in front of the wall looking at the photo of the tourists Faith had printed out. She then flipped through the photos on her cell phone. There had to be something she’d seen but hadn’t connected to anything. Looking back up at the group photo, she studied one face and then the other.

  “Did one of you go too far?” Since the name tags were barely legible, she taped several blank pieces of paper alongside the group photo and began adding names and possible reasons for wanting to see Bert dead.

  “Greed. It’s the only reason I can think of in this case. Okay, maybe jealousy too. Bert might have shown more interest in one woman.” She tapped the pen against her chin. What if a man in the group had acted out of jealousy?

  She hoped Joshua would be able to find out if any of them had received large sums of money. That would temporarily put the person in the clear since getting money now would mean they didn’t have to wait for Bert to die.

  Joshua had said Denise Lowe had contested the will because her dad had left money to his friends.

  Abby sighed. “What if the bailout money wasn’t enough? What if the person wanted to get their hands on more now rather than later?”

  Staring up at the ceiling, she sighed. “Find the motive, find the killer, and… find the proof. Yes, we need physical evidence. But where to start? I don’t have the resources to research all these people.”

  “Social media.”

  “Huh?” Abby swung around. “Who said that? Hello?”

  “Hi.”

  Abby gulped. “Mom?”

  “Over here. On the coffee table.”

  Abby looked down at the coffee table. Her laptop…

  Had she left it on?

  “Abby, you have some explaining to do.”

  Abby rose to her feet and went to answer the knock at the door.

  “I came as soon as I could,” Faith said and strode in. “Meaning, I swung by Joyce’s for some coffee. You know what she’s like. She wanted to know if I had any news.” Noticing the laptop on the coffee table, Joyce whispered, “I guess we’re not alone.”

  “No, you’re not, Faith. The cat is out of the bag,” her mom said. “Abby’s mom… Me… knows what you two have been up to.”

  Faith cringed. “I hope it wasn’t anything I said. Please tell me I didn’t give the game away.”

  “Relax. You did great.” Abby pointed at herself. “I had to listen to an earful from my mom last night. You’d think I would just switch the laptop off, but then I’d never hear the end of it. Come in. Make yourself at home and put on your thinking cap.”

  Faith looked at the wall. “I guess it’s time to roll up our sleeves. I see you’ve been busy.”

  Her mom cleared her throat.

  Abby smiled. “You’re looking at a joint effort. We’ve both been busy.” After her mom had given her a huge piece of her mind for trying to keep the facts about Bert’s death a secret, she’d come onboard and had helped her work through the information Abby had at hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up so we can knuckle down and start throwing around some ideas. Mom?”

  “Yes, Abby.”

  “Can you remember that first night at the pub when you waved goodnight? I saw someone in Bert’s room… Sort of. Did you notice anyone missing from the group?”

  “You asked me this last night, Abby.”

  “Yes, and you said you were going to sleep on it because when there’s something troubling you, the best thing to do is to get a good night’s rest.


  “Are you mocking me?” her mom asked.

  “Nope, I’m only wondering if your sleep yielded any results.”

  “I really don’t want to point fingers of suspicion at someone without first being sure.” Her mom looked anywhere but at Abby.

  “At least give us a name and we can help you work through your ideas.” Abby gave her mom a nod of encouragement.

  “I’ve been thinking about it and I remember waving goodnight.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “I can picture everyone sitting at the table. I probably looked at them for a couple of seconds but in that time, I remember seeing someone sitting down and someone getting up.”

  Abby and Faith exchanged a raised eyebrow look.

  “Well, that’s great, Mom. We’ve narrowed it all down to two persons. Who were they?”

  Her mom scooped in a breath and pushed it out slowly. “Alice and Linda. Remember, I told you they both had their eyes on Bert.”

  “The ones who hogged the conversations?” Abby asked.

  “Yes, although…” Her mom shrugged. “I wouldn’t quite put it like that. Some people are more outgoing than others.”

  “Okay, so which one sat down and which one got up?” The person who got up might have been on their way upstairs, Abby thought.

  Her mom wrung her hands. “I’m working on that.”

  “Is there something we can do to help you remember?” Abby asked.

  “I just need to clear something in my mind because I keep seeing someone else walking toward the table and sitting down. I think it might have been someone carrying a drink so they might have gone up to the bar.”

  “Okay. That’s good. Can you remember what they wore? We could cross reference it with the photo I took the next morning. People traveling don’t carry that many sweaters. She might have worn the same one.” Abby took the laptop and held it up closer to the wall so her mom could look at the group photo. “Well?”

  “Cynthia. Yes. Cynthia. She had a drink in her hand and… yes, I saw her making her way to the table. I remember the flash of pale pink and thinking how some women revert to childhood colors like pink. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really suit her complexion. With her coloring, she might want to try wearing brighter shades.”

  So, when her mom had waved goodnight, Cynthia had been on her way back to the table. Abby closed her eyes and tried to remember the scene. Clearly, she hadn’t been paying that much attention. “And you say you saw her carrying a glass?”

  “Yes.”

  Okay. She might have gone upstairs and then swung by the bar to get a drink. That actually put Cynthia in the clear because after her mom had waved goodnight, Abby had gone upstairs, and that’s when she’d tried to open the wrong door. By that time, she had disconnected the video chat, so her mom couldn’t confirm or deny it.

  “It has to be Alice or Linda,” Abby said.

  “I think I should try some meditation,” her mom hummed. “If I can sit quietly for a while, it might all come back to me. Or…” Her mom clicked her fingers. “I could get pencil and paper and sketch out the scene. It might help refresh my memory.”

  “That’s a great idea, Mom. You do that and Faith and I will take Doyle for a walk.” Abby went in search of Doyle’s coat but she didn’t find it in its usual spot by his doggy bed. “Help me look for Doyle’s tartan coat, please.”

  “Sure. Where do you think you put it?” Faith asked.

  “It should be in the same place I always put it. By his bed.” Abby looked down at Doyle. “Hey, have you seen your coat?” Doyle averted his gaze.

  Faith chortled. “I get the feeling he doesn’t like his coat. He must have hidden it.”

  “What are you talking about? He loves his coat.”

  “Oh, yeah? Every time you bring it out you tell him how good he looks in it but he cowers away.” Faith looked under the bed. “Found it.”

  “Doyle. Did you hide your beautiful coat? Well, one of us has to be the grown-up. You have to wear it. It’s cold outside.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Faith said. “You claim to have seen someone in Bert’s room and your mom says she saw someone leave the tour group table. You were jet lagged and your mom is still trying to add authenticity to her virtual trip by turning all the clocks to Australian time so she must be sleep deprived or still adjusting to the time difference.”

  Abby finished buttoning up Doyle’s little jacket and straightened. “Yes? Are you trying to make a point?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way… You and your mom might be unreliable witnesses.”

  “Pardon?”

  Faith shrugged. “Neither one of you can be really sure about what you saw.”

  Abby gave it some thought. “Yes, but… We’re thinking about it. I’m not actually making any firm statements or accusations and mom wants to be sure too.”

  Faith tilted her head in thought. “I’m willing to accept that, but I suspect it might be viewed differently by someone in the legal profession.”

  “Joshua didn’t have any issues. In fact, he told me off for keeping the information to myself.”

  “I’m only saying you should be prepared for the worst. Joshua might be happy to look into your lead, but that city detective might dismiss your suspicions as meddling. And, if he’s the stickler that Joshua says he is, he might even throw the book at you for wasting valuable police time. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he does it just to prove that meddlesome women do not solve crimes. He’s the type to think that, I’m sure.”

  “Exactly what type is that?” Abby asked.

  “The misogynist. I’ve read up on them.”

  Abby frowned. “You’ve labeled him?”

  Faith shrugged. “I like to keep myself entertained. Anyhow, I’d watch out for him.”

  “I’m only trying to do my civic duty,” Abby said. “Okay. Doyle’s as ready as he’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

  Faith strode out of the apartment with Abby following. As she turned to lock the door, Faith nudged her.

  “Is that Cynthia standing outside Bert’s room?” Faith whispered.

  Abby turned. “Yes. It is.”

  Cynthia looked up. Seeing them, she swung away and rushed along the corridor.

  “Wait,” Abby called out.

  “Is she actually going to pretend she didn’t hear you?” Faith asked as she lunged toward Cynthia, making a grab for her before she reached the stairs.

  Cynthia yelped. “What are you doing?”

  “That’s what we’d like to ask you,” Faith said. “What were you doing outside Bert Howington’s room?”

  Abby caught up with them. “We only want to ask a few questions.”

  “Why should I talk to you?” Cynthia surprised them by asking. For a quiet woman, her voice packed quite a punch and some bite.

  “Because Abby carries some weight with the police and if you can convince her of your innocence, they’ll go easy on you.” Faith gave a firm nod.

  Abby’s eyebrows rose a notch. She guessed Faith had decided to play her own version of bad cop. She plucked out the first question that came to mind and watched for Cynthia’s reaction. “We only want to know if you garden.” Cynthia’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, but she had fair skin so Abby supposed that would be her reaction to anyone asking her a question.

  Cynthia crossed her arms and gave a stiff nod. “As a matter of fact, yes I do.”

  “Aha!” Faith exclaimed.

  “A few of the people in our group belong to a gardening club,” Cynthia continued. “What of it?”

  Abby wanted to ask if any of them grew Foxglove in their gardens but decided to leave it for Joshua to determine if it would be worth pursuing. “Why were you outside Bert’s room?”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  Faith grinned. “She’s a snoopy reporter, she makes it her business.” When Cynthia didn’t respond, Faith added, “Were you experiencing a fit of remorse?”

  Cynthia’
s expression crumbled and her bottom lip wobbled. When she looked away, Abby thought she might cry. “We… We were supposed to meet today, just the two of us to talk. Traveling with the group, we rarely had time to talk alone.” She gulped in a breath. “Yes. I felt remorse. Bert had wanted to talk the night before but I’d hesitated, saying it would look too obvious.”

  “What would look too obvious?” Abby asked.

  “Leaving the others. They would have talked.” She looked Abby square in the eye. “I wish I’d said yes. Now it’s too late.”

  “Are you crossing Cynthia off your list?” Faith asked as they stepped outside the pub. “She could have been putting on an act.”

  Abby turned her collar up and wished she’d brought a scarf along. “Despite what you might think, I’m actually taking a backseat on this investigation. I don’t want to get Joshua into trouble.”

  “Abby, you have a crime board in your apartment.”

  “It’s nothing but behind the scenes prodding.” Abby narrowed her eyes and pointed across the street. “Is that Alice?” She stood on the opposite sidewalk and kept looking around her. “Is she talking to herself?”

  Faith lifted her hand to shield her eyes. “I think she is. Although… she might be on the phone.”

  “I don’t see her holding one.” Abby’s curiosity got the better of her. She drew out her cell phone and snapped a photo. “I’m sending you another photo.” As they crossed the street, a car pulled out and drove off, giving them a clear view of Alice. “She’s not holding a cell.”

  “I’m surprised she’s out here alone. Maybe that means something,” Faith said when they reached the other sidewalk.

  Yes, but what? “Look, there’s Linda going into the café.” Abby looked over her shoulder and saw Alice heading back to the pub. “That’s strange. Every time I’ve seen them, they’ve been together. As thick as thieves. And both vying for Bert’s attention.”

  “Maybe they thought of Bert as the glue that held them together,” Faith suggested.

  “Let’s go see if Linda is meeting someone at the café.” They hurried along with Doyle trotting between them. “Oh, she’s alone.”

 

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