A Fatal Visit (A Harbor Cove Cozy Mystery Book 1) (5 page)

Skyler fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him and settled for peeling off the ‘Hang in there’ motivational sticker that had been affixed to her computer monitor.

She winced at the footsteps behind her. “I was just—”

“Relax.” It was Ava, the girl who’d been clutching the cup of coffee a couple of minutes ago. She was young, just out of a journalism major. She offered a paper cup to Skyler. “Thought you could use this.”

“Thanks.” She accepted it and took a sip.

“He has me writing a feature on the local dog show.” She pulled a face. “As if anyone cares about that right now.
Your
story is the interesting one, after all. How’s progress?”

Skyler sighed and responded, “Slow. My evidence is conflicting. It’s been kind of difficult to piece things together and come up with a solution, you know?”

Ava looked puzzled. “Do you need to do that? Can’t you just…write about what you know, and just present the things that conflict as they are?”

“I could. And that’s one way to write a story. But there’s someone I’m trying to protect, too,” she confessed.

“You could leave them out of the equation?”

Skyler shook her head. “No. It won’t make sense without having them be part of it.”

Ava considered this. “Maybe you have too much personal investment in the story then. That can leave you biased, and
that
can lead to bad journalism.” She paused. “Or trashy tabloid journalism at least.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Skyler bit her lip.

Ava shrugged. “Just regurgitating my lectures at you, Skyler. You do you, and trust your instincts. You’ve been at this longer than I have.”

Ava went back to her desk, and Skyler turned back to her computer. She tapped on the desk, frowning.

Come on, ace reporter. You can do this.
She wasn’t certain whether or not her inner voice was mocking her. She told it to shut up anyway.

Chapter Eight

Nichole yawned and stretched. Sitting upright, she swiveled her desk chair around to face the window and feel the warmth of the sunlight on her face. Then her heart dropped almost out of her chest and into her feet. She jumped up and knocked over stacks of papers while looking for her phone, only to discover it lying on her desk. Moments ago, she had been snoring beside it peacefully.

12:32 p.m., it read.

“Oh, thank God,” she murmured to herself, relieved. “Still have time.”

Stretching again, she went to the closet and pulled out a sweater for her outfit. She shook off a piece of paper that was stuck to her foot before pulling on a pair of socks.

She wandered into the living room, pushing pens and documents into her briefcase as she went. Skyler was out walking Clue, so the place was eerily silent. Her phone pinged. A reminder from her friend Sam, a colleague of hers from work, about their meeting.
Make that a second reminder,
she chided herself.

“Sorry, bogged down, didn’t notice your text. Don’t worry. Will be there. On my way now.”

Shrugging on a light coat, she headed out the door.

Most of her office was waiting outside the meeting room. Today was a company policy presentation, and it had been mandatory to attend. It wasn’t long before Sam spotted her and waved her over. She smiled.

“So, I hear Bill and Skyler’s date ended in the discovery of a body?” He grinned at her. “Pretty standard for you guys, right?”

Nichole rolled her eyes. “Ha ha.” She paused and then prodded him the chest. “Anyway. I thought
you
said Bill was fun and interesting. Skyler found him life-draining.”

“Aw, Nichole. The guy was nervous is all. Miss Avery is an imposing lady.”

Nichole shook her head and laughed. “I doubt it’s going to go anywhere anyway.”

“Shame.” He took a sip from the polystyrene cup in one hand. “So, I bet you’re all tied up in the Chase Myers case?” She gave him a startled look. He winked. “Gonna have to work on your poker face Nichole.”

She hit him gently on the back of the head. “One day I’m going to start my own practice and get away from people like you.”

“Then you could avoid these meetings, too. Isn’t it your day off as well?” She nodded. Then he looked at her seriously for a moment and dropped his voice. “Make sure you’re backing the right horse if you’re getting involved in this, Nichole. The politics of the wealthy can be a nasty business.”

~~~

Momma Avery polished a mirror in her hallway. She was wearing a long, tartan skirt with a red blouse and a brooch studded with a large red gemstone. Swishing the skirt, she twirled.

“Oh, Mary Beth, you have done it again. Another
marvelous
outfit!” She spun once more for effect and then picked up the can of polish and flounced to the kitchen.

It was a large, open space, and the walls were painted saffron yellow. The stainless steel hob had six burners, and all the countertops were oak wood. In the center of her kitchen island was a large vase of flowers, erupting in daisies in a spectrum of colors. Humming to herself, Momma Avery began to make tea, practically dancing toward the teapot as she collected it from its cabinet. She was interrupted by a quiet knock on the back door. Pottering over toward it, she opened it with a warm smile that turned into a look of surprise.

Standing there, dressed in a suit with his hair smoothly slicked back into a bun, was Bryson Everett.
Bryson Everett Myers
, she corrected herself.

“May I come in?” His voice was gentle, tentative.

She nodded, albeit stiffly. He pulled a stool up to the counter island and gave her the uncertain half grin she was so used to seeing. Only he seemed to sit a little straighter. He waited, as if he was expecting her to speak. Remaining still, she pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow. He turned his eyes to his shoes.

“I was hoping to explain myself…” His voice faltered. “I…I never meant to lie to you. I swear I didn’t, Mary Beth. It’s just…” He wiped away a tear that had been threatening to roll down his face. “Chase…he was…”

Sobbing stopped his attempt at talking. Momma Avery softened and put an arm around his shoulders. “There now, Bryson. I know it’s difficult.” The man cried into her blouse. It took several minutes for him to regain some composure, and even then his eyes were red. “I don’t think any differently of you, dear.” She paused and smiled. “Though perhaps you can buy me lunch from time to time now.”

A small laugh escaped his lips. “I wanted to...explain, if I could.” He paused and then looked up at her. “There was a woman. Aubrey. She and Chase had a one-night stand, and that’s where the daughter of his that’s been appearing all over the news…that’s…I mean, Aubrey is her mother.” He shook his head. “Chase
always
regretted what he did to Aubrey. That he left Charlotte without a father for so long.”

He was quiet again and stared out of the window, past Momma Avery’s head. Remembering the kettle had boiled, she left him for a moment to his reverie. Pouring out the water, she glanced back at him. He looked haunted. Placing a mug beside him on the counter, she sat down by him once again.

“I’m not sure when he fell out of love with his wife. Or if he ever really loved her.” He paused and took a breath. “Charlotte gets ill quite often. Recently she broke her arm. Chase was used to being able to pay for what he wanted when he wanted it. With his accounts frozen, he decided to use a different approach. He would steal the money, pay off Charlotte’s hospital bills, and then when it was all over he’d buy the restaurant and give it to Aubrey. He said that meant he would basically be stealing from himself, so it didn’t matter if he took the money. Chase can be quite convincing when he wants to be.”

She smiled at him. “You really love your brother, don’t you?”

“I would do…would have done anything for him.” His throat caught as he finished the sentence.

“Do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead?” she asked.

He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure. Maybe Dustin got wind of the plan. I’m not sure he’s a killer, though.”

Bryson stepped down from the porch of Momma Avery’s house and pulled his hair out its bun. He tossed it down over his shoulders as he walked. His mind felt strangely blank.

“Mary Beth is a good person,” he said to himself. “A very good person. She just wants to find out who killed Chase.” He paused, finding himself halfway down the street. He looked back to her house. “Yeah. A good person.”

Momma Avery was dusting a lamp in the living room but not really paying attention to her surroundings. As if in a trance, she put down the pink feather duster and picked up a notepad. In it she wrote two names, Aubrey Perkins and Dustin Cole.
Who else? Who else would kill him?

She picked the duster up again and went round the mantelpiece. She chewed on her lip as she thought.
The girl’s parents? The manager of the restaurant? His ex-wife…
She threw the duster down and marched into the hallway, where she picked up and ancient-looking landline receiver and dialed.

“Skyler. We need to discuss. Come over here at once!”

Skyler sat in her mother’s living room, the dog at her feet chewing on a rawhide bone. The living room was teal and oak, and it was filled with antiques. An old grandfather clock struck out the hour as Skyler patted Clue between the ears.

Momma Avery looked back from the mirror above her fireplace. “Is that the time already? Goodness.” She flounced past Skyler, skirt swishing across the floor. “I’m just going to powder my nose, dear. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Skyler nodded and stretched her feet onto the cushioned footstool in front of her. Her phone buzzed, and she opened a text from Nichole informing her she was on her way. A birdfeeder hung in the garden not far from the window, and Skyler watched as a blackbird picked seeds and nuts from it. Momma Avery’s garden was, of course, immaculate: every shrub was perfectly pruned and no flower head was allowed to remain wilted on its stem. More birds fluttered down the feeder. A darting sparrow caught Clue’s attention, and she sat bolt upright.

“Clue…” Skyler warned.

The dog paid no heed. The next moments seemed to pass in slow motion as the dog bounded across the room, barking at the avian antagonists outside. Her tail connected with a picture frame, which fell to the floor. 

Skyler’s eyes opened wide. “Clue! Get down from there,
this instant.
” The dog did as instructed. Warily, Skyler approached the frame. “Please don’t be smashed, please don’t be smashed, please don’t be—” she turned it over, and to her relief it was not. The glass pane had simply come loose. It was photograph of her, on her first day in her own home. Her mother liked to keep lots of pictures around the place. She smiled at it, and then she noticed a gift tag sticking up from behind it. A small piece of cardboard read
, Hope you like the gift. I don’t deserve a friend like you. Bryson x.

“What are you doing with that?” Momma Avery’s voice came from behind her. It had an unusually sharp quality to it.

“Clue knocked it off. I was just—”

“Prying?” She pulled it out of her hands and stalked off into the kitchen.

Skyler bit her lip. The doorbell rang, three long chimes. “I’ll get it!” she called, to no response.

Nichole stood at the door, her hair tied back in a small braid and wearing an oversized grey sweater. Skyler looked at her.

“Um…hi?”

“Hey.”

Nichole raised an eyebrow. “Did you see a ghost?”

“No… just…”

“Well!” Momma Avery appeared in the doorway. “Since you’ve arrived, my dear, we may as well get going. A new dessert restaurant has just opened up in town. I think we’ll go there.” With that, she walked past them down the path.

Nichole gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m too tired to even ask why you’re acting like an alien right now.”

Deserts of the World was patterned after a fifties diner. The inside was pink and neon, the counter chrome. The waiting staff dressed in crisp white uniforms and buzzed about between booths and tables. Momma Avery demanded a booth by the window and selected “Suspicious Minds” on the table jukebox. They sat down and remained in silence for a few moments. Elvis Presley’s voice began to sing to them over the speaker system.

“Bryson is innocent. I have never been more certain of anything.” Her eyes narrowed.

Skyler held her hands up. “I agree. That’s what we’re trying to prove.”

A man made his way over to the table, carrying a tray with bitesize portions of various desserts: meringues, brownies, sponge cakes, doughnuts and more things that the women didn’t even recognize. He was young and fairly tall. His hair was light brown and shaved close to his head, and his light-skinned cheeks had a permanent red flush to them. His smile was charming.

“Care to try anything? Opening week offers.” He set the platter down, and Nichole began to inspect it.

“Dustin, isn’t it?” Momma Avery asked. He nodded. “Your grandmother is in my book club. She was telling me that you got the job here yesterday?”

He nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He glanced around the restaurant. “My reputation proceeded me. I got the job here pretty quickly.” He offered an awkward smile.

Momma Avery nodded and watched him, taking a bite of one of the desserts he’d brought. His flushed face turned a deeper shade of red. As she let him stew, Skyler took out her phone under the table and texted Nichole.

“We never asked what she found out about him!”

She looked at her phone, puzzled. “Who?”

Skyler had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “The chef!”