Frosted on the Ferris Wheel (2 page)

Once Holly got past Charlene’s excitement, she noted a subtle difference in her friend. Charlene’s hair was nice and smooth. Was that gel in it? The last remaining tinges of lipstick painted her lips. And she wore flats. Not her yellow boots.

“What’s up with you?”

Charlene waved her off. “Never mind about me. There’s been a murder.”

“How do we know it’s a murder?”
 

“This is something you just have to see. It was an accident I stumbled on it at all. Just happened to be driving past.”

Holly glanced at the time. It was almost six in the morning.

“I know. I know. I’m usually not out and about this early. I couldn’t sleep last night. A touch of insomnia so I went for a drive. Now, are you coming with me or not? The crime scene is at the other end of town. The abandoned lot.”

“I’m in.” But Holly stored away for later the fact that Charlene wouldn’t look her in the eyes and quickly changed the subject. And who wore lipstick to take an early-morning drive?

Once they were in Charlene’s truck, Holly asked, “Can you give me any clues?”

Charlene gripped the steering wheel, focused on the road. “Nope. This is something words can’t describe. Well, they could, but this way is better.”
 

As they drove through town, Holly gazed out the window. She should be excited. Their secret sleuthing club loved to solve murders, hunt down clues, and use their undercover skills. Holly loved to see justice served. But then she thought about Trent, and the past month. Their relationship had seemed normal almost, movie and dinner dates, evening strolls, soft-serve ice cream, hikes. Of course, Millicent had showed up on quite a few of those dates, but regardless, a murder investigation would bring tension. Trent hated they nosed around in business that wasn’t theirs, interrogated possible subjects, at times, causing more trouble than they helped, and they didn’t leave it to the cops.

“What’s your problem?” Charlene asked. “You don’t seem excited. I wouldn’t have left...I mean I wouldn’t have driven all the way to get you if I’d known you’d be as useful as a pile of beans.”

“It’s nothing.” She faked a yawn. “Just tired. Still early.”

“Right,” Charlene said. “We’ll talk about that later.”

Minutes later, Charlene pulled to the side of the road at least half a mile from the abandoned lot. They climbed out of the car and Charlene went to the trunk.

“What are we doing?” Holly asked. She wasn’t in the mood for a hike.

“Avoiding Trent. He’ll know the minute he sees my car.” Charlene shoved a sweatshirt at her. “Wear this and pull up the hood. Your hair is a dead giveaway. No one should know about this yet. Too early. Nothing has leaked to the papers. There haven’t been any arrests.”

“Good. Then our dear friend Millicent shouldn’t know about it yet.”

Charlene slipped into a gray rain slicker. A few steps down the road, she spoke. “I know Millicent is a pain in the rear, but you’ve got to let it go.”

They continued to walk at a fast pace. Holly thought about what Charlene said. She was right. Starting now, Holly wouldn’t let Millicent bother her one little bit. One iota. Not even a sliver of her favorite cheesecake bit. Nope. Not anymore.

They slowed as they approached the lot. A small crowd had gathered.
 

“Most likely family and friends,” Holly whispered.

“Yup. And you know what that means?”

“What?”

“That the killer’s here too. Time for our best sleuthing.”

“Should we call Kitty and Ann?”

Charlene shook her head. “No. All four of us here might be too obvious. We’ll catch them up later.”

They circled behind the small group until they stood on the fringe. At first, they observed. Holly noticed the grim faces, the worn and devastated expressions. One lady with long brown hair seemed the most upset. Wife, probably. That meant the victim was a man, husband or boyfriend, or other family member. They couldn’t hear or see anything, only the murmur of Trent and the chief’s voices. Great. Charlene nodded at Holly to worm her way through to get closer.
 

Slowly, bit-by-bit, Holly wiggled her way through until she was as close as she dared. Just one row of people blocked her from Trent’s keen eyes. He was a smart cop. She peeked through, trying to see the body. First, she saw a construction worker, hard hat and jackhammer, ready to drill.

Then she dropped her gaze. A hand, pale and almost shriveled, stuck out of a block of hardened cement. The rest of the body buried inside it. Holly sucked in her breath. What a horrible, terrifying way to die.
 

***

She should go back and relay the news of the body, the death, to Charlene, but she couldn’t move her gaze from the cold, pale hand. A thick gold ring encircled his finger. She closed her eyes and shuddered, briefly imagining the fear and panic the victim must have felt as the cement was poured. The wet mixture, heavy and cold. Maybe the hissing last words of his enemy or the clichéd evil laugh. Who would do such a thing? Was this a planned murder? Or a crime of passion? It had to be planned. No one happens to have cement on hand. Most likely that meant money was the underlying motive.

And where was Millicent?
 

With a soft excuse me and nods of empathy, her head down as much as possible, Holly backed the way she came until she was at Charlene’s side.

“About time. Thought you were in some sort of trance up there.”

“I was.” Holly stifled another shiver and tucked her hands up into the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

“What happened? Bullet to the head? Strangulation?”

Holly hesitated, not even wanting to say the words. “Cement.”

Silence fell between them. Tension crackled through the crowds as the jackhammer started up, the loud digging sound rattling nerves. Charlene pulled her away from the crowds.

In a low voice, she said, “I know this is tough. But most likely all our suspects are here, and probably the killer, especially if this was done by family or a close friend. We have to take advantage of this opportunity. We won’t have it again.”

Holly nodded, still a bit dazed and torn between getting involved and hurting her relationship with Trent. She thought about her past life, with her wealthy family and all she disliked about that lifestyle, and the murder she had to walk away from. She thought about Aunt Lizzie, the sparkle in her eye and her words of encouragement to go after what she wanted in life. Sadly, Holly had to admit if Trent couldn’t accept her for all of her, then she’d have to let him go.

“Are you listening?” Charlene threw her a sharp elbow jab in the side.

Holly cleared the cobwebs from her mind. “Yes. Just say it again?”

“Wear these.” Charlene handed her a pair of sunglasses. “Look at a person and then click this button.” She slid a small device into the sweatshirt pocket. “It will take a picture. Try to take pictures of faces, or anything suspicious. Guilty looks. Anything incriminating. I’ll cover the side behind the body. You cover this area here.”

Then Charlene slipped into a clump of people.

Holly thought back on Charlene’s words. The killer was probably here. How cold and callous. Returning to the scene of the crime to appear innocent, to fake tears and grief. That motivated her. Trying to be subtle, Holly studied everyone present. She pressed click whenever she got a clear view of a face.
 

When a woman with the long brown hair turned, her face streaked with black tears, Holly took a picture. Several. She wanted to put her arm around the woman and promise this murder would see justice. Then a man, older with hints of silver in his hair, distinguished, face smooth, appearance polished, approached the woman. He put his arm around her and led her away. His mouth moved in conversation.

Holly took a picture.
 

But then she inched her way within earshot of the conversation.

As the man spoke, he leaned in close to the woman, his voice barely louder than a mumble. With her body sideways to them, Holly took tiny steps closer, wanting to appear engrossed in the cops’ work and the crime scene.

Minutes later, the jackhammering stopped. Now! She took one last step and cocked her head to hear better.

“Judy, I’m so sorry.” He took her in her arms. “It might not be Gary.”

She sobbed. “It has to be. We chose our rings to match. It’s his. I know it.”

“Gary was a good man.” The man’s voice cracked. “He’ll be sorely missed. Not just from the company but from the community. What can I do to help? Anything. Just name it.”

Murder victim? Gary.

Victim’s wife? Judy.

A sob broke through and it took a minute or so before Judy could speak. Her voice was hoarse and raspy. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what needs to be done.” Another sob.

Holly felt for the lady. She remembered what it was like to grieve while trying to comprehend that someone would murder someone you loved.

The man spoke. “I’ll take care of the funeral arrangements. I’m pretty sure Gary had made plans. I’ll contact your lawyer. How about the memorial service?”

Holly took a picture of them together. This man sounded a little too put-together, a little too suave and charming. Where was his grief? Emotion that ripped his heart from his chest and left him vulnerable at such a time?

The man prepared to leave, but Judy caught his sleeve. She clutched his coat in her fist, desperate. “Who do you think would do such a horrible thing? Dave was a good man. He had no enemies.”

Holly watched the man’s face for any telling signs. Obviously the victim, Dave, had an enemy or enemies.

“I don’t know.” His voice turned gravelly.
 

“You were his business partner. Surely there are things you know about him, business dealings, something. A clue for the cops to follow.”

For a brief few seconds, the man pursed his lips, his forehead furrowed with lines. The first hint of doubt.

She continued to speak, urgency growing with every word. “I know it’s no coincidence he ended up here of all places. This land, which has been abandoned for months, he purchased last month. It can’t be coincidence.”

The man’s face lost the doubt, turning sharp and intuitive. “What do you know about that, Judy? Tell me.”

Holly took another picture.

Judy bit her lip and brushed at a dried tear. “Not much. Just what I overhead from late-night phone calls. Dave kept this all very hush-hush. He didn’t want me to know about it.” She looked over the property at the foundation that had been dug and the piles of rocky earth. “Though I’m not sure why. This place isn’t anything special or much to look at. It’s like the rest of his properties...” She let her words trail off as if she already spoke more than she intended.

“Rest of his properties?” the man asked, now extremely curious. “What properties, Judy? You must tell me. It might help with the investigation.”

She forced out a laugh. “You probably know more about that than me. It was work. And that’s a big part of his life that he only gave me the vaguest of details. Like when he sold a mansion worth a couple million.”

“Hmm. I see. I’ll look through my stuff at the office. You check around at home. Maybe together we can figure out the whole picture. Meet me for dinner tomorrow night in town?”

Judy nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I should tell you one more thing.”

The jackhammering started up again while she spoke. Holly dug her heels into the soft earth in frustration. Of course, just when she was about to drop the biggest piece of information. She tried to read Judy’s lips to no avail. “The rubber ducky has launched?” Holly silently laughed. Right. “Your words are like glue to me.” After that Holly quit.
 

Ears ringing, she tried to catch a peek of the victim. Broken, jagged cement lay in a pile. They were about to pull out the body. Was he killed before or after the cement? They’d find out later. Given her relationship with Trent, it would be even harder to get answers from him. He’d share nothing, not wanting to put her in danger, and not wanting to feed her hunger to solve a mystery.

The jackhammering stopped. Crowds drew closer, blocking Holly’s view. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see the body anyway.
 

“Are you sure?” the man asked Judy.

“Yes. Positive.”

“What about—”

A blue uniform stepped from the crowd and approached Judy and the man. Holly froze. It was Trent. His cap was pulled low. He strode toward them with the intimidating confidence of a detective. Chief Hardy watched from the distance, taking in the scene.
 

She had to get out of there. Dressed in a sweatshirt, hood pulled up, and wearing sunglasses already made her look suspicious. Charlene’s motto of get-in and get-out needed to be activated.
 

Holly inched away, slowly, as Trent talked with Judy and the man. Every minute brought her closer to safety.

Until she bumped into someone.

***

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This ground is rocky and so hard to walk in heels.”

Holly didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Millicent. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. When they first met, Millicent had been a nice, sweet person. She had turned out to be anything but a friend.