Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection 2

by Sonia Parin

  “I’m beginning to think Harold was a complex man. What else do you have?”

  “We now know the ex-wives fed him information about the town and they swear they didn’t tell him about anyone being pregnant. But I think you already knew that. Honestly, my mind is a mess.” Turning, she saw Faith putting the phone down and swiveling on her chair. She didn’t look happy. Welcome to the dead-end club, Abby thought.

  “Abby, are you there?” Joshua asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve just heard back from one of my officers. Harold had a desk in his bedroom. Drumroll. He found Harold’s phone bills. You know what that means.”

  “The killer took the phone.” Abby jumped up and down. “The killer took the phone.”

  “Yes. We’re trying to track it as we speak.”

  “Are we assuming the killer is stupid and left the phone on?”

  “We can only hope. I’ll get back to you.”

  At the end of the day, they could only say they’d tried and did so under extreme conditions.

  “Let’s call it a day,” Abby suggested. “I can’t even remember if I had lunch. I should eat something before I hit the bottle.”

  “Hit the bottle? You’re in the middle of an investigation.”

  Abby walked toward the front door. “Yes, and it’s driven me to drink. I’m beginning to understand Joshua’s frustration. No weapon. Few suspects. Only one clear motive, yet George Mercer is still walking free so Joshua clearly didn’t find anything to pin on him…” Abby stopped dead in her tracks. “He didn’t find a weapon because the killer took it with him. But… Did the killer bring the weapon with him or did he use something handy? Harold’s truck was full of tools.”

  Faith waved her hand in front of Abby’s eyes. “Are you in a trance?”

  Abby blinked. “There must be a tool missing from Harold’s truck.” Her fingers tightened around the doorknob.

  “Abby?” Faith clicked her fingers. “Snap out of it.”

  She looked for her phone only to realize she held it in her hand. “Joshua is getting another call from me whether he likes it or not.” When Joshua picked up, Abby’s words tripped out of her mouth.

  It took him a moment to unscramble what she said. “Unless he had an itemized list of all his tools, we can only guess…”

  “Stevie Garth would know.” Abby gave a firm nod. “I think he’s going to have to cut his honeymoon short.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You look cheerful,” Mitch remarked.

  Abby and Faith settled into a table by the window and both smiled up at him. “It’s all pretense. We’re covering up our evil deed. Poor Stevie Garth is coming home early. If either of us turn up dead, Joshua should question Genie Garth first. We’ve cut short her honeymoon.”

  “It’s all for the greater good,” Faith reasoned. “Surely, she won’t hold it against us.”

  Looking confused, Mitch asked, “What are you two talking about?”

  “Abby came up with another theory which will hopefully lead Joshua to the murder weapon.”

  “How exactly did you do that? Walk me through it.”

  “Harold’s truck was full of tools. The killer must have grabbed something from the toolbox. We only need to find out if there’s anything missing from the truck.”

  “Have any of you heard of technology?”

  “Oh. Oh!” Abby smacked the side of her head.

  Mitch walked off whistling a tune under his breath.

  Abby pressed the phone to her ear. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Joshua doesn’t take the call.”

  “Nonsense. You’ve definitely earned points with him. He should make you an honorary detective.” Faith grinned. “Or maybe a mascot. I think I’ve suggested that before...”

  “The phone must have been switched off,” Joshua said by way of greeting. “We’ve tried all the apps available to locate it and we’re not getting a signal.”

  Abby groaned. The phone could have led them straight to the killer. “I guess we didn’t give the killer enough credit, but this might cheer you up.” She told him about doing a video link. “That way, Stevie Garth doesn’t need to cut his honeymoon short. He must know what tools Harold kept in his truck.”

  “He sure does since it was actually his truck,” Joshua explained. “Harold gave it to him when he retired.”

  So, Harold must have driven to Stevie’s house to pick it up. “Hey, that means Harold’s car is at Stevie’s house.”

  “Yes, we’re on our way over there now. Talk to you later.”

  Abby sat back and gave her eyes a rest from the bleary light of day. Hearing a soft Christmas tune wafting over from the dining room, she hummed under her breath. “I think I’m finally getting into the spirit of Christmas.” She hadn’t given much thought to how she would spend Christmas, but as Joyce had pointed out, she wouldn’t be alone. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  “Same as you. Christmas Eve here at the pub. Lunch at Joyce’s. Oh, that reminds me, you’re having Christmas lunch with us.”

  Abby peeled an eye open. “Us?”

  “My family.”

  “I thought we were doing lunch at Joyce’s.”

  “We are. But we’re also doing lunch at my parents’ house.”

  “Two lunches?”

  “You can’t say no. You’re the guest of honor with a Christmas Plum Pudding all of your own. I hope you like brandy in your fruit cake. The dried fruit is soaked in it for a couple of weeks and we have a tradition in our family. Everyone sneaks into the kitchen and adds an extra splash of brandy. Of course, no one will admit to it…”

  Mitch approached the table and set a couple of glasses of beer down. “Here you go. Sounds like you earned it today.” Looking at Abby, he said, “You’re not blinking. Why aren’t you blinking?”

  “I think Abby is overwhelmed. She’s going to have to manage two Christmas lunches.”

  Abby wrapped her hands around the cold glass. Had she come across as needy? Right that moment, she felt so far away from home, she wanted to talk with her mom but she couldn’t do that because her mom would insist on doing FaceTime and she would take one look at her and know something had happened.

  Taking a sip of beer, she tried to ignore all the unanswered questions swamping her, but one persisted.

  Why had Harold put Joshua’s car in the main street?

  Had he been threatened by someone?

  Then, there was the matter of the missing phone. If the police could find it, they would be able to track down the phone calls and connect Harold to the killer or, at least, another suspect. Belatedly, Abby realized the police also had the records for the missing phone. That would show the people he’d been in contact with.

  Abby finished her drink. “I need to cool down properly so I’m going to leave you for a bit.”

  “And I need to get home. A shower would be good but I’ll come back here for dinner.”

  Abby nodded. “Meet you in an hour.” She searched for Doyle and found him slumped by the fireplace sleeping so she decided to leave him there.

  On the way to the stairs leading to her apartment, she glanced around the pub. All the regulars where at the bar. As she turned, she caught sight of Jon Reeds. In that same moment, he looked up and saw Abby.

  She held his gaze for a moment and she could have sworn his cheeks colored. When he looked away, a feeling of apprehension crawled along her spine.

  Abby hurried up the stairs. Reaching her apartment, she rushed inside and locked the door behind her.

  She considered calling Mitch to ask if Jon Reed had left the bar but decided against it because she knew Mitch would ask questions, and then Abby would have to tell him about the intruder.

  “Is it possible,” she whispered under her breath. Could she point the finger of suspicion at Jon Reed based on a feeling of apprehension? Why would George Mercer’s foreman break into Harold Moorhead’s house?

  Standing in the middle of her small sitting room, sh
e raked her fingers through her hair. “I could sure do with an extra IQ point.” But she would settle for thinking clearly.

  Exhaustion from the heat weighed her body down. She heard the soft hum of the AC unit which she had left on low. Walking over to the coffee table, she picked up the remote and cranked it up a notch. The unit didn’t respond.

  “Argh! This is not the time.” She tried again but didn’t hear the distinct ping sound that signaled a change in the fan speed. Trying again, she stretched her arms out and pointed the remote at the green light on the unit. Still no response.

  She dug inside her pocket, drew out her phone and called Mitch. When he picked up, she heard a loud pitched laugh mingling with the lively conversations in the background.

  “What’s up?” Mitch asked.

  “Help,” she managed.

  Mitch must have dropped the phone. In less than a flash, she heard a fist banging on her door.

  Abby went to open it and Mitch rushed in, a bat in his hand. “Where is he?”

  “Who?”

  “You called for help.”

  Abby pointed at the AC unit. “It’s broken.”

  Frowning, Mitch lowered his cricket bat and strode over to the unit. “You called for help. I thought you were being attacked.”

  “Are you saying this doesn’t qualify as an emergency?”

  “Hardly.” He pressed a button on the AC and it pinged. “How high do you want it?”

  “As high as it will go… and, why did it work for you and not me?”

  “It’s called a manual setting. As in, walk up to the unit and press the button.” He grabbed the remote and tried it. “The battery must be dead.”

  Abby collapsed onto the couch. “Thank goodness. I thought it had died on me.”

  “What’s really going on with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing that a cold shower won’t fix. Thanks for rushing to my rescue.”

  Mitch refused to budge. “Are you homesick? Is that it?”

  “Why does everyone assume…? Never mind. No, I’m not homesick. Although, maybe I should be. I’ve always spent the holidays at home but it’s not as if I can jump on a plane and be there in a couple of hours. We’re so far away here.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

  “Don’t you get time off?”

  “Honestly, I’m fine. Besides, by the sounds of it, I’m going to be too busy to feel homesick. Again, thanks.” Getting up, she gave him a gentle shove toward the door. “I really need to wash this layer of stickiness off me.”

  Half an hour later, she emerged from her cold shower feeling better. Since the window facing the alley behind the pub faced the afternoon sun, she lowered the setting on the AC so it would keep the room cool until she returned later that night.

  Stepping out of her apartment, she remembered what had happened just before she had come upstairs.

  Jon Reed.

  She should call Joshua straightaway and tell him.

  Tell him what? That she’d had a strange feeling about the man? Checking the time, she realized Joshua might not even be in the office. She considered sending him a text message but, thinking it would intrude on his down time, she decided against it. Even detectives working a case got to go home at some point.

  Her decision became final when she entered the bar and saw Joshua nursing a cold beer. He’d changed out of his suit and into a T-shirt and jeans. As she walked toward him, he laughed at something Mitch said. Abby couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so relaxed.

  “Here she is,” Mitch said. “We were just saying you should only come down at night.”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard today.” She took the stool next to Joshua. Belatedly, she remembered to look around the bar to see if Jon Reed was still there. He wasn’t.

  Had he left soon after that awkward moment or had he lingered for a while?

  What if he made his getaway? She’d have to own up to not telling Joshua. Maybe she could tell him in a way that he would figure it out by himself…

  She searched for Doyle, expecting to find him stretched out by the fireplace or in front of the AC. “Where’s Doyle?”

  “He’s gone,” Mitch said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Markus went over to the park to help Bradford with the lights and Doyle tagged along.”

  “I see. I’m sharing my dog now.” Until this heatwave, Doyle had been by her side 24/7. Her constant and reliable companion. Wherever she went, he was there with her. At the end of the day, she loved sharing the day’s events with him. Sometimes, she thought he understood every word she said. Other times, he had a worried expression that suggested he might be wondering how safe he was in her hands.

  “Are you going to cry?” Mitch asked. “You’re teary-eyed.”

  “I suppose he needs a male figure in his life. I only hope he doesn’t pick up any bad habits, like grumbling or scowling…”

  Mitch set a beer down in front of her. “Doyle has a cheerful disposition. I’m hoping it will rub off on Markus.”

  “Is there a story behind that?” It made no sense to Abby. Markus appeared to have everything, including a healthy relationship with the pub’s chef. “Did someone drop him on his head when he was a kid?”

  “No, but we have discussed it at length. In the end, we decided that as the first born, Markus just carries the weight of the world. He likes to shoulder all responsibility. It makes my life easier. If I do something wrong, I can point the finger at him and he’ll happily accept responsibility.”

  “I’m so glad I’m an only child.” Abby turned to Joshua. “This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you this week.”

  “I’m working hard at it.”

  As if by mutual agreement, no one mentioned the case. That suited Abby just fine. Jon Reed could wait. Although, if he did anything hasty, it would be on her head. Regardless, she tried to think of a way to give Joshua enough information to let him figure it all out by himself. “The place looks great with the Christmas decorations up.”

  “Yeah, everyone’s been whistling a happy tune and drinking lots of beer.”

  She tried to think of something else to say that didn’t have anything to do with the case. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she found a way to mention the subject while skating around it…

  “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

  Leaning against the counter, Mitch grinned. “With great pleasure.”

  “Jon Reed is your version of a cowboy.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, he would know how to hog-tie a cow.”

  “Rope and tie? Most likely, but he doesn’t need the skill.” Mitch went on to explain most cattle were ear-tagged rather than branded.

  “But he would know how to take control of a large animal.” The intruder had managed to grab and tie her without any effort whatsoever.

  Abby watched him exchange a look with Joshua.

  “Probably. Why do you want to know?”

  “Curiosity.” She took a sip of her beer.

  When Joshua looked over his shoulder, she knew that he’d made the connection. Abby suspected he might have been looking to see if Jon Reed was still at the pub.

  “Do you know how long he’s been working for George Mercer?”

  “All his adult life. He’s in his thirties.”

  “So, I guess he must be quite loyal to George Mercer.” Loyal enough to cover for him or to do anything that needed to be done.

  Mitch moved away to take care of a customer, leaving Abby to decide if she should share her suspicions with Joshua or not.

  He finished his beer and turned the glass in his hands. “What’s on your mind, Abby?”

  “Sorry. You probably came here hoping to switch off and take time out from the investigation.”

  “Not until the killer is caught. I’m just pretending to be taking a break. There’s no escaping it. You end up taking your work home or wherever you happen to go.”

  Abby lowered her h
ead and then leaning in, said, “I picked up a strange vibe from Jon Reed.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When the sun finally set, Abby and Joshua set out for the park on the edge of town where they found Bradford and Markus making final adjustments to the lights.

  They hadn’t mentioned Jon Reed again but Joshua had placed a call to make sure Jon Reed didn’t suddenly decide to go on vacation.

  Bradford and Markus stepped back.

  “So, what happens now?” Abby asked them.

  Markus snorted. “We’re waiting for Joyce. We’d never hear the end of it if we tested the lights without her.”

  Doyle looked up at Markus and then made his way over to sit by Abby who couldn’t help wondering if he would much rather be with the boys.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joshua checking the time. He’d been quieter than usual. Abby considered making some small talk but decided against it. If she talked, she might say something about the case. Since he hadn’t brought it up, she assumed he didn’t want to talk about it. Everyone deserved a break, even when a killer remained on the loose…

  A car pulled up. A moment later, Faith walked toward them. “Looks like I’m just in time.”

  Within the next few minutes, more and more people arrived. At the end of the tree lined clearing, Abby saw a large pine tree and assumed that would eventually be decorated.

  “Do you all do this every year?”

  “Not officially. We just want to make sure the lights are working for our Christmas carols night. This year, we’re hoping to collect ten thousand dollars for the hospital.”

  “That sounds like a lot of money from a small community,” Abby observed.

  “It would be if it was just us but, at this time of the year, we get some of the larger land holders coming into town.”

  Finally, Joyce made an appearance. Still dressed as a Christmas angel, she nodded and gave the go-ahead.

  Bradford and Markus did the honors by pulling the switch. A colorful display of lights twinkled back at them. They had done a terrific job of stringing up the lights between the trees and light poles creating a backdrop for the stage area where the carolers would stand.