A Taste of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 1) (7 page)

In every photo, everyone was smiling.  It was clear that the family was close-knit. 

“Sorry about that,” Will said, startling Clarissa as he returned to the living room.  “Helen has been through a lot and she has bad nerves.  She’s been an insomniac since this all started and she’s completely exhausted.  But I think she’s finally fallen asleep!” he added hopefully.   

“You’ve both been through a lot,” Clarissa replied sympathetically.  “I’m very sorry this is happening to your family.  Anything I can do to help, I will.”  Gesturing to the photos on the wall, she added, “You have a beautiful family, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Will said, visibly swelling with pride.  “I can’t wait until this is all behind us and we can get on with our lives.  Our girls are the light of our lives.  Well, and the little guy,” he added, puffing out his chest. 

“Oh, you have a grandson?” Clarissa asked, wondering why there weren’t any photos of him.

Will nodded his head enthusiastically.  In true grandparent fashion, he was clearly happy to have an opportunity to brag a bit.  “He’s only two weeks old but I can already see he’s a chip off the old block!”

Ah.  That explained why there weren’t photos of the kid on the walls yet; he was a brand new addition.  Clarissa smiled broadly and made a point of looking fascinated by what Will was saying. She wanted to encourage him to talk to her openly.  With any luck, he would say something useful.

“He may be little but I can already tell he’s going to take after his granddad!” he predicted, obviously excited to talk about his grandson.  “When he’s old enough I’m going to take him hunting and fishing...you know, man stuff.”

“My dad only had daughters, so he tried to do man stuff with us.  He really only convinced my sister Jasmine to go dirt biking and stuff.  Everything he tried to do with me just ended in a tea party,” she recalled. 

Come to think of it, perhaps that was when her addiction to chocolate chip cookies had started.

“There’s nothing wrong with having daughters!” Will declared.  “I wouldn’t trade those two for the world.  But my girls were like you – not interested in the hobbies I wanted to share with them.  I’m pretty excited to finally have a boy in the family.  Boys are different.”

“So this is Bonnie’s sister?” Clarissa asked, pointing to the photo of the bride.

“That’s my youngest, Jane.  She’s an elementary school teacher – third grade.  She lives three hours away.  And that’s her husband, Paul.  He’s a schoolteacher too...that’s how they met.  He’s a good kid – not much into outdoor activities, but he makes my daughter happy.  He’s good with the baby, too.”

“That’s great,” Clarissa replied, though it didn’t exactly help her investigation much.

She got the impression Will was desperate to talk about something – anything – other than Bonnie’s awful predicament.  She could only imagine the anguish he must be feeling.  His daughter was locked up for a crime she hadn’t committed and there was nothing he could do to help.  What an awful feeling that must be!

Of course, if Bonnie was locked up for a crime
he
had committed...well, that was a different kind of anguish altogether. 

“I’m just sorry about the awful timing,” Will sighed.  “We promised Jane and Paul we’d go out and help when the baby was born.  Then we got the call about the murder, and, well, we had no choice but to cut our trip short and come home.  The most infuriating part is we haven’t even been able to visit Bonnie yet.  Those good for nothing cops are –”

“Wait,” Clarissa interrupted.  “You were visiting your daughter when Jed was killed?”

Will nodded. 

“And she lives three hours away?”

“That’s right.”

Clarissa hesitated.  “I hate to ask this, but is there anyone who could vouch for that?  Preferably someone who isn’t a family member?  I don’t mean to sound like I’m accusing you of lying, it’s just that –”

“I wish those idiot cops had half the sense you do,” Will interrupted.  “We stopped to fill up with gas before we drove back here.  I have a receipt somewhere that ought to show the time of purchase,” he added, walking over to a desk and rifling through a pile of papers.

“That’s perfect!” Clarissa couldn’t help but exclaim. 

Well, it was kind of perfect.  The good news was that if Will had an alibi, then he couldn’t be the killer.  So she wasn’t standing in a murderer’s living room.  The bad news was that now she was back to square one.

Will handed Clarissa a receipt from a gas station three hours away.  The date and time backed up his claim.  His story seemed to check out.

“I wish I knew what else to tell you,” Will said, shifting from foot to foot.  “All I know for sure is the cops have it wrong.  My little girl is no killer.  I’m sure most parents say that – denial, right?  But I know my Bonnie.  She would never do this.”

“Not even in self-defence?” Clarissa couldn’t help but ask.

“That’s different.”

“I see.”

“Bonnie didn’t do it!” Will insisted.  “She couldn’t have!”

“Okay.  So word on the street is that the weapon was a gun of yours.”

“Yes.  It has my name engraved on it.  It was a gift from my father years ago.”

“Do you have any idea how the killer would have gained access to your gun?”

Will hesitated.  “I know this might sound bad, but I gave it to Bonnie a few years back.  I’m a gun collector,” he explained.  “I took both my girls to the shooting range when they were old enough – even though neither of them had much interest, I insisted that they both take a gun safety course.”

“I see.  So the gun was at Bonnie and Jed’s house?”

“I guess,” Will shrugged.  “It pains me to say it, but she’s not really a gun person.  Neither of my girls are gun people, to tell you the truth.  Ah well...choose your battles, right?  Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help there, but I don’t actually know where the gun was stored.”

“Oh, you’ve been all kinds of help,” Clarissa assured him.  Then her curiosity got the better of her.  “I’ve spotted at least two photos of Paul on your walls.  Yet I couldn’t help but notice there are no photos of your other son-in-law.  Why is that?”

Will scowled.  “Jed Black is no son of mine!  I mean he
was
no son of mine,” he corrected himself.  “It’s still hard to believe he’s gone,” he said in a tone of voice that suggested a complete lack of remorse.  William Babcock was apparently a man who didn’t hide his emotions.  That made things a lot easier for Clarissa.

“I take it you didn’t like him?” she asked, noting his cavalier demeanor.

“Darn right I didn’t like him!  He was nowhere near good enough for my Bonnie.  He may have been successful in business and small town politics, but as a husband, he was an utter failure.  We warned Bonnie not to get involved with him, but he wined and dined her until it was as though she had blinders on.”

“So they had a whirlwind romance?”

Will snorted at the suggestion, indicating that he thought it was a preposterous one.  “I don’t know what she ever saw in him.  I guess she was lured in by the lifestyle he led.  We were never rich, and Jed was.”

“So it was a case of wanting what she’d never had?” Clarissa guessed.

“Yes.  I know I shouldn’t say it, but I’m glad that good-for-nothing cheating scoundrel is dead.”

Clarissa’s eyes widened.  “You knew he was cheating on Bonnie?”

“He wasn’t exactly discreet.  Maybe he thought he had people fooled, but Bonnie figured out years back what was going on.  She’s the one who told us about it.  I wanted her to leave him but she said she had it under control,” Will sighed.  “Maybe I should have pushed harder.  Money isn’t everything, but to my Bonnie, well...it’s always been pretty important.”

“Do you know anyone who would want Jed dead?” Clarissa asked hopefully.

Will scoffed.  “I’m willing to bet half the town isn’t sorry about what happened to him,” he predicted.  “He had it coming.  He disrespected the sanctity of marriage.  He treated his employees like dirt.  He walked all over anyone who got in the way of his climb to the top.”

“But no one specific comes to mind?” Clarissa tried again.

“Sorry,” Will replied, suddenly looking a hundred years old and very, very tired.

Clarissa could see that was her cue to leave.  She held out her hand.  “Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Babcock.  You’ve been very helpful.  I’m going to do my best to get to the bottom of this,” she vowed. 

“Please do,” he replied, grabbing hold of her hand and pumping it up and down until she was a bit concerned her arm may fall off.  “I always believed the truth would prevail, until my Bonnie ended up in this mess.  Please, you’re our last hope.”

No pressure, right?

Since she was already in the city Clarissa decided to run another errand before heading home.  Fuel wasn’t cheap and she couldn’t afford to drive her car to the city twice – not on her shoestring budget.  She wanted to make her limited savings stretch as far as possible.

She also didn’t want to take another afternoon off from working on her newspaper if she could help it.  Liana had been right about one thing: writing, editing, producing and distributing a news publication singlehandedly was a massive undertaking!  Clarissa feared more all-nighters were in her near future.  So much for beauty sleep…

“All I have to do is solve the murder,” Clarissa said to herself.  “Then my newspaper’s reputation will be firmly established and
everyone
will want to subscribe.  I’ll be all set!  And all I have to do is solve a murder...easy, right?”

She glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror.  The woman looking back at her appeared every bit as incredulous as she felt. 

“Okay, so I suck at giving myself pep talks,” Clarissa sighed, remembering to turn her attention back to the road just in time to avoid sideswiping a parked car.  “Hopefully I’m a better murder-solver than pep-talker…or driver.” 

She glanced over her shoulder then and decided the parked car had been too far from the curb.  Clearly it hadn’t been her fault she had nearly hit it!  She only regretted the driver of the parked vehicle was nowhere to be seen.  She really could have used some therapeutic road-raging.  It was good for stress relief.

The young reporter made it clear across the city in record time.  Her assertive driving must have been to thank for that, Clarissa reasoned.  Well, most people called it aggressive rather than assertive, but it was all semantics.  The point was that all her fist shaking and horn blowing always got her where she needed to go. 

Clarissa’s destination was a twenty-storey building in the heart of Green City’s business district.  It was mostly comprised of windows and it was a rather impressive piece of architecture.  Even the huge marble sign outside, which read “Black & Burke Investors,” was pretty snazzy-looking. 

She parked her car and got out. 

She went inside, determined which floor she needed and found the elevator.  A little voice in the back of her head told her she ought to take the stairs, especially considering the way she had been devouring cookies lately.  Clarissa promptly told the little voice to put a sock in it. 

The elevator was empty.  That was good.  There was nothing worse than a crowded elevator.  Clarissa was never sure where to look when she was packed in like a sardine with strangers invading her personal space.  And she always inevitably ended up standing beside the person who didn’t wear deodorant.  Why did there always have to be one of those?

Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she saw something that made her blood boil.  Parker Tweed was sauntering into the lobby of the building, still wearing that black trench and stupid pretentious scarf of his. 

What was he doing there?! 

It was too big of a coincidence to actually be a coincidence.

“Hold the elevator!” he called out, spotting her.

Clarissa ignored him, silently urging the doors to hurry up and close behind her.

To her dismay, Parker ran across the lobby with the ease of a natural born athlete.  He managed to wedge his hand in between the closing elevator doors.  The sensor kicked in and they automatically opened wide, bringing the two reporters face-to-face.

“What part of ‘hold the elevator’ didn’t you understand?” he asked.

“I didn’t hear you,” she fibbed.  She didn’t like to be dishonest, but surely a little white lie was the lesser of two evils in this situation.  What else was she going to do, tell him she blamed him for her job loss and would secretly love to see him fail?

He rolled his eyes.  “You looked right at me.”

“I did not!” she gasped, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

“You did.”

“What are you even doing here?” Clarissa demanded.  “Are you following me?”

He smirked and stepped into the elevator. 

“You are?  You’re
following
me now?” she sputtered in dismay.

“I had a hunch that you knew more than you were letting on,” he shrugged, completely and infuriatingly unapologetic.  “I’m a reporter, and it’s my job to follow up on any and every possible lead.  I’m just doing my job.  So where are we headed?” 

“Gynecologist,” Clarissa replied without missing a beat.

The color drained from Parker’s face ever so slightly before he realized she was joking.

“But seriously, you can go away now,” Clarissa told him, pushing the elevator button so that they would stop at the next floor.  “You’re not riding on my coattails.  Go do your own sleuthing and quit trying to profit from my hard work.”

“I know something you might be interested in,” Parker replied, standing his ground as Clarissa tried to invade his space and push him off the elevator.

“Doubt it,” she yawned, trying to sound disinterested.  She was still irritated with him.  Everything he did irritated her, and every word that came out of that oh-so-kissable mouth of his made her want to scream at him.

Wait...what?

“Are you sure you’re not interested?” Parker pressed.

“I don’t want you!” Clarissa insisted.

He stopped dead in his tracks and gave her a quizzical look.  “Pardon?” he asked.

She blushed furiously, mortified by what had accidentally tumbled out of her mouth.  “I don’t want you in here with me!” she told him, clumsily trying to backtrack.  “Your, uh, your cologne stinks!” she informed him, even though it actually smelled quite nice.

“Any luck finding a roommate yet?” he asked, catching her off guard.

“No.  What does that have to do with –?”

“I can’t imagine why not,” he said sarcastically.  “You’re such a joy to be around!”

Clarissa gave him a dirty look.  “If you hate being around me so much then why are you following me?  Spare us both the torture and get off the elevator!” she urged, motioning for him to move.

“Newsflash:  you don’t run the world.  And the elevator doesn’t have your name on it.”

Deeply aggravated and more than a little flustered, Clarissa wished the elevator would just come to life and boot Parker off for her.  That would solve one problem, at least.  Without that thorn in her side, life would be a whole lot easier.  If only that could actually happen!

“Ouch!” Parker exclaimed suddenly.

It seemed the open elevator doors had malfunctioned.  They had stopped sensing that his hand was between them and had shut on it.  They hadn’t closed hard enough to injure him or anything, but he nonetheless looked annoyed as he stepped back into the elevator.

Clarissa was so startled by the coincidental timing that she missed the opportunity to gloat.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said tensely. 

“I know the elevator doesn’t have my name on it,” Clarissa acknowledged sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

“What if I said I believe you?” Parker asked, rubbing his hand.  “I know Bonnie didn’t do it.”

Clarissa snuck a look at him.  “What changed your mind?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“I took a look at how Jed Black spent his final days,” Parker announced.  “I retraced his steps.  He was pushing hard at the time of his death for some new bylaws to be enacted.  It was rather dull stuff, mostly to do with loitering and panhandling.  But there was one person in particular who fought him tooth and nail.  She said she had been personally targeted.  Things got heated.”

Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph.  “Her name is Nora something-or-other.  No one I spoke to was quite sure of her last name.  Best I can tell she’s a drifter who’s become a pretty prominent fixture in Sugarcomb Lake.  Do you recognize her?”

A quick glance was all Clarissa needed. 

“Yes, I recognize her.”

Clarissa’s eyes widened when she saw eccentric multiple-dress-wearing, crazy-haired, aura-seeing lady staring back at her.  Immediately she thought back to that night in the woods.  She had heard the gunshot, a man had run through the forest cursing under his breath and then lightning had struck.

And Nora had been there.

Could she be the killer?  She was certainly a strange, eccentric woman.  But people could be weird without turning homicidal.  Then Clarissa remembered the unsettling encounter in the grocery store parking lot.  Had that been a warning, of sorts?  Had Nora been, in her odd way, threatening Clarissa to keep quiet?

“So what are we doing here?” Parker asked again. 

Trying to push her fears about Nora aside, Clarissa smoothed the wrinkles out of her black belted jacket.  “You looked into how Jed Black spent his days,” she replied, feeling it was only fair she divulge a bit of information after what Parker had shared.  “I’m more interested in where he spent his nights.”

***

Clarissa and Parker walked into utter chaos.

The office itself was lovely, spacious and stylish.  Everything about it screamed money and class.  Bonnie hadn’t been joking when she had said her late husband had been all about appearances.  The furnishings and paintings on the walls looked like they had probably cost a fortune.

The office was decorated in calming hues of lavender, cream and taupe.  It was one of those spaces meant to give off a soothing, relaxed vibe.  But today the atmosphere itself was anything but tranquil. 

Liz, the woman who had been crying the funeral, sat behind the reception desk.  She was on the phone and she looked frazzled.  When she held the receiver away from her ear and grimaced, Clarissa understood why.  She could hear a male voice shouting on the other end.

That wasn’t the only shouting. 

Bellowing was also coming from the hallway just off of the reception area.

“Where’s my money?  I want it
now
!” someone hollered from behind the closed office door.

The muffled sound of a male voice could be heard, presumably trying to reason with the yeller.

“I don’t care!” the man screamed.  “Just get it!  You haven’t heard the end of this, Burke.  If you don’t have my money in full, with interest, by this time tomorrow you will be sorry!”

The office door flew open and a red faced, furious looking middle aged man stormed out.

A moment later, Adam Burke exited the office.  His shirt was slightly rumpled and his tie was askew, giving him a dishevelled appearance.  He looked weary and beaten down.  And, when he saw Clarissa and Parker standing there, embarrassment flickered in his eyes.

“Some people think investing in the stock market is a get rich quick scheme,” he offered with an exhausted half-smile.  “I hope you two are having a better week than I am.  Have you been helped yet?” he asked, glancing over at Liz and seeing she was on the phone.

“No, um...I think she’s a bit busy,” Clarissa said as delicately as she could.

Liz looked relieved when she saw her boss standing there.  She put her hand over the phone.  “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Burke, but I have Mr. Smith on the line.  He’s wondering if you’ve had a chance to –”

“No,” Adam replied immediately, chuckling in a manner that suggested he was at the end of his rope.  “I most certainly haven’t.  You would think clients would be a bit more understanding given what we’ve been dealing with here this week,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I also had a message from Chase Preston while you were in your meeting,” Liz said.

Adam’s demeanor immediately darkened.  “What did he want?”

“He offered to come in and help.  He said given what’s happened he imagines you’re bogged down with Jed’s – I mean Mr. Black’s – workload, plus your own. He said he’ll come in and volunteer his time until you get caught up.”

“Absolutely not,” Adam said.  “The last thing I need right now is to have to babysit an intern.”

Parker cleared his throat, apparently getting impatient.

“Ah yes, what can I do for you two?” Adam asked, remembering that Clarissa and Parker were still standing there.  “I hope it’s nothing time-sensitive.  We’re pretty bogged down now that...”  He trailed off and cleared his throat.  “You weren’t client’s of Jed’s, were you?”

Liz, now off the phone, abruptly stood up. 

“Excuse me,” she said, sounding choked up.  Then she hurried off down the hall.

“Sorry about that,” Adam said, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but there.  “This has been pretty tough on everyone.  I presume you two have already heard that my business partner passed away.”

“Yes,” Parker nodded. 

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Clarissa chimed in.  “Were you and Mr. Black close?”

“He was my long-time business partner,” Adam replied.  “We didn’t always see eye to eye, and Jed didn’t necessarily have a reputation for being easy to get along with.  But he was good at what he did and I respected that.”

Clarissa looked around.  Noting that Liz the secretary had yet to return after getting emotional and running off, she cleared her throat.  “Excuse me, but could you tell me where the ladies’ room is please?” she asked innocently.