Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1) (7 page)

“I know Tony Barnet drives—drove—some fancy
cars. They can be expensive to fix.”

“Oh, he wouldn’t bring his Porsche here for
repairs. It was his black SUV. Apparently he drove straight into a store front
on Main Street. Damaged the front of his car. The repair bill was eight
thousand dollars. Who’s going to pay that now Mr. Barnet is dead?”

“I suppose it will come out of his estate,
eventually.”

“Which means, not any time soon.” Chelsea
huffed out a sigh that lifted her bangs. “Maybe my mom is right about looking
for a new job. I mean, if customers are taking their cars away and bills aren’t
getting paid, then where does that leave me?”

“I think you should wait until Sean returns
and talk with him,” Emma said, feeling concerned. How quickly things could
change. Until a day ago, Sean had owned a thriving business, but now everything
was crumbling away.

Chelsea didn’t appear reassured by Emma’s
reply. In fact, she seemed more doubtful at the prospect of talking with Sean.
Maybe
she doesn’t want to be alone with a man charged with murder
. A sense of
increasing helplessness swept over Emma.

“Do I need to fill out any paperwork for my
car?” she asked, conscious of time ticking by. Caitlyn would be getting antsy
outside waiting for her.

“Here.” Still looking distracted, Chelsea
pushed a block of paper forms toward Emma and handed her a pen. “We need your
name, address, phone number, and your license plate.”

Emma wrote down the information, then
detached the car key from her key ring and gave it to Chelsea.

“Any idea how long it will take?”

“I guess it shouldn’t be too long, seeing
as we don’t have that many customers. I’ll get Larry to call you if there’re
any problems or major expenses.”

Emma left with crossed fingers, hoping the
car would only need minor repairs. Caitlyn was nervously chewing her lower lip,
and as soon as Emma slid into the passenger seat she stepped on the gas. They
zoomed over to Emma’s house where Emma transferred into her dad’s car.

“See you back at Lulu’s,” Caitlyn called
before taking off.

Emma sat quietly for a couple of moments as
she reviewed what she’d learned from Chelsea. The receptionist seemed like a
reliable witness, and her testimony confirmed what Larry had witnessed. The
argument with Tony was pretty damning. Eight thousand dollars was a lot of
money. And Sean had at least four employees he had to pay wages to. Even with a
profitable business he couldn’t overlook a large debt like that. Maybe eight
grand wasn’t enough motive for murder, but Sean had a reputation for being a
hothead, especially in his younger days. Sure, he was more mature these days,
but he might be under more pressure too, what with running a business, planning
a big wedding with Madison, and wanting to gain the Whites’ approval, too. All
that added up to plenty of stress. Maybe Tony’s bald refusal to pay the bill
was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe frustration had driven Sean to
grab that wrench and go over to Tony’s place to have it out with him. Maybe, in
his rage, he had lashed out and hit Tony over the head. Then dropped the wrench
in a panic and dashed out.

Emma sighed. She was supposed to be on
Sean’s side, not the prosecuting attorney’s. She needed to talk to Sean as soon
as possible. Since her eleven o’clock meeting had been cancelled and she didn’t
need to prepare for it, there was nothing waiting for her back at the office
except a pile of unpaid bills. She could drive over to the courthouse and wait
for Sean to be bonded out. She needed to talk to Sean face to face, she
realized. She needed to look him in the eye and ask him if he was innocent of
murder.

A group of rowdy
men spilled out of the district courthouse, a modest, almost homey, brick
building in the middle of La Quinta, a bustling town on the eastern shore of
Shamrock Lake. The men were followed by several security officers. Emma,
sitting in her dad’s car in the parking lot, craned her neck to see what was going
on. The four men, of varying ages and sizes, wore various combinations of check
shirts, denim jeans, and baseball caps. They yelled and scowled at the security
officers and shook fists at a TV camera crew who had followed their progress
out of the courthouse.

The McCluskey clan, Emma thought. They’d
come to show their support for one of their own, and had managed to get
themselves evicted. That wouldn’t help to endear Sean to Chief Putnam or the
court judge.

The McCluskeys piled into a beat up old
truck and roared off, still shouting epithets at the officers. Most likely they
had been told to clear off or risk arrest. Hopefully that meant that Sean’s
arraignment would be over, and as soon as he made bail she’d be able to talk to
him alone, without his disruptive and disreputable relatives.

She thought about going into the
courthouse, but the presence of the TV news crew deterred her. As much as she
wanted to support Sean, she didn’t want to appear in any news reports herself.
Pulling a granola bar from her bag, she settled down to wait.

Half an hour later, the TV news crew left,
no doubt called to a juicier story. Fifteen minutes after that, Sean appeared
at the top of the stairs leading to the courthouse. With him was a burly man in
a flashy maroon double-breasted suit, talking nineteen to the dozen, a gold
ring glinting on a fat pinkie. Freddie Earle, Sean’s lawyer, and instantly
recognizable from his loud, late night commercials. The lawyer said a final
word, slapped Sean on the shoulder, and sauntered back into the courthouse,
smoothing back a lock of hair.

Sean stood blinking in the sunlight,
looking strangely alone and forlorn. Emma started the car and steered it toward
him, stopping when she was adjacent to the foot of the stairs.

“Hi, Sean. Need a lift back to Greenville?”

He bent down to peer uncertainly at her
before a faint smile of relief lifted the corners of his mouth. “Emma? I didn’t
expect to see you here.” He walked down the stairs, glancing about him as he
went.

“If you’re looking for your cousins,” Emma
said, “they were told to leave by the security officers.”

“I figured that. They were making a ruckus
inside the court room.” Sean grimaced. “But I was hoping Madison would…I guess
she’s busy.”

“I guess she is.” Emma had no idea where
Madison was. Considering how emotional she’d been the last time they’d met, it
was strange that she wasn’t here to support Sean. “Hop in, unless you want to
catch the bus back to Greenville.”

He gave himself a shake as if he needed to
shrug off his daze and climbed into the passenger seat. Emma pulled onto the
main road. As she drove, she glanced at Sean. He seemed so deflated and beaten
down, as if he had already been tried and convicted.

“Hey, it must be good to be out of jail,”
she said, trying to cheer him up.

“Uh-huh.” He grunted and pushed his fingers
through his already messy hair. His clothes, the same pants and shirt he’d been
wearing since yesterday at the Whites, were rumpled and creased, and there were
deep lines beneath his red-rimmed eyes.

A thread of unease tickled along Emma’s
veins. Would an innocent man look so defeated?

“Madison came to see me last night,” she
said. “She’s worried sick about you.”

That got a reaction out of him. His head
jerked up, and his eyes grew round. “She is? Poor baby, she doesn’t deserve any
of this. Her parents must be giving her hell, and none of it is her fault.” He
heaved a deep sigh. “I’m no good for her. I should just stay away from her.”

Emma aimed a sharp glance at him. “You
shouldn’t think like that.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be
accused of something you didn’t do.”

But she did know what it was like to be
wrongfully accused. When Rowena, her business partner and so-called friend, had
skipped town taking all the money that was left in the business account and
leaving only debts, many of their duped clients had assumed Emma knew more than
she did. They had accused her of collusion, yelled abuse at her, threatened her
with legal action and worse. They didn’t believe that she knew nothing of
Rowena’s intentions, that she was a victim just like them, that she had sunk
her life savings into the business, only to be left with nothing, robbed of her
money, reputation, and prospects. Sure, it wasn’t the same as being accused of
murder, but she had experienced the sting of injustice and the loneliness of
not being believed.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said. “Why
is Freddie Earle your lawyer and not someone decent?”

“Freddie’s got me out of some tight spots
in the past.” Sean tugged at his collar. “I know he’s not the best lawyer for a
murder charge, but I kind of owe him and besides, he’s all I can afford at the
moment.”

“Oh? I thought your business was doing well
these days.”

“It is doing well but it’s not cheap
setting up an outfit like that. There’re a lot of expenses.” He shifted
uneasily in his seat. “You won’t mention this to Madison, will you? She has
enough to worry about. I don’t want to give her extra trouble.”

Hmm, what was Sean hiding? Was he deep in
debt? On the brink of bankruptcy? She recalled him and Madison disagreeing over
the expensive lobster appetizers, and it didn’t reassure her.

“Of course I won’t,” she said. “By the way,
this is my dad’s car I’m driving. I dropped my car off at your repair shop to
have it checked out.”

“You did? Thanks. I’ll make sure you get
top priority.”

“Larry’s looking after it for me.”

“Larry, yeah. At least I can count on him.”
Sean looked distracted as if he was worried about his business.

Emma shot him a brief glance as they headed
into Greenville. “I know all about your argument with Tony. Larry, Chelsea, and
several other witnesses heard it, including your threats. That part must be
true.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s true. And I did drive out
to Tony’s place because I wanted my money, and we did argue about it.” He
swallowed hard, kneading his knuckles. “But when I left, he was still alive.”

“But what about the wrench? It is yours,
isn’t it?”

His brow clouded. “Yes, it’s mine, I don’t
deny that. But I didn’t take it with me, and I’m not the only one with access
to my toolbox. Anyone could have taken it.”

“Like one of your employees or your
customers or anyone who walked into that workshop.”

Sean sighed. “Yeah.”

And the only fingerprints on the murder
weapon were Sean’s. Which meant the killer must have worn gloves. And he or she
must have planned for the blame to fall on Sean.

“Do you know what time Tony was killed?”

“Well, Chief Putnam wanted to know what I
was doing between six and eight pm on Tuesday, so I guess that’s when he died.”

“And what did you do after you left Tony?”

“I went straight home and stewed all
night.”

“Really? Did anyone visit you?”

“No.” Sean frowned, crossing his arms over
his chest.

“Did you order any takeout?”

“No, like I said, no one visited me.” The
scowl on his face deepened.

Emma sighed. “It’s not much of an alibi.”

He whipped around in his seat and glared at
her, his fists clenched. “You think I don’t know that? That I’m up shit creek
without a paddle?” he hollered. Then, realizing the unpleasant impression he
was making, he pressed his head back and visibly forced his hands to unclench.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just been a really long twenty-four
hours.”

She pulled the car onto the shoulder of the
road and jerked on the brakes before turning to Sean.

“Now look,” she said sternly. “Madison
thinks you’re innocent. She believes in you.  She’s trying her best to help
you, and somehow or other, I’ve been roped in too. We both want to see you walk
free. But before I go another inch, I want you to look me in the eye and tell
me you didn’t kill Tony Barnet.”

Sean gawked at her like a stunned goldfish.
“I didn’t kill Tony Barnet,” he finally got out, his voice hoarse but his eyes
steady on hers. “I swear on everything I hold dear that I didn’t kill him.”

Emma studied him with fierce concentration,
wanting badly to believe him.

“Come on, Emma,” he added. “I may have
broken the law a couple of times, but have I ever lied to you?”

No, he hadn’t. In her experience, Sean
McCluskey was honest. More honest than her ex-boyfriend or her ex-business
partner. She liked to think she was better at spotting a liar these days, and
her gut instinct told her that Sean was telling the truth.

“Well, okay, then.” She nodded. “I believe
you.”

He breathed out a sigh. “That means a lot
to me.”

“I’ll drop you off at home and you can
catch up on your sleep,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“What’s your address, by the way?”

He gave her the information, and she
steered the car back onto the road.

After a few moments, he said, “Emma? I’m
sorry about…that.” He waved his fingers to indicate his little burst of temper
a few moments ago. “Sometimes it’s hard holding it all together.”

“I understand.”

In her experience Sean’s outbursts were
always brief and harmless, and she’d never once felt remotely threatened by his
short temper, but a character flaw like that could be exploited by a wily
prosecutor and twisted to show Sean as a man who could be capable of murder.

“So you’re going to prove I’m innocent?”
Sean asked with a touch of admiration as they reached the outskirts of
Greenville. “You always were the smart one. If anyone can do it, you can,
Emma.”

“You understand I can’t promise anything,”
she warned. “I’m not a trained investigator, and I don’t have any authority.
All I can do is ask around, but if people don’t want to talk to me, I can’t
force them.”

He nodded. “Anything I can do?”

“Just…get some rest and try to stay calm.”

She had hoped that Sean would be the best
person to prove his innocence, but in his current state of mind, he was more of
a hindrance. The most sensible thing he could do now was go home and recover
his equilibrium.

Sean’s home was a large, cream-and-green
clapboard on a big block of land in a quiet street. The well maintained garden
featured stands of mature trees, while tall, trimmed box hedges separated his
property from his neighbors. It was a surprisingly beautiful and tranquil home
that highlighted just how far Sean had come, but in this case its private
setting was a disadvantage. The driveway curved around the side of the house,
so once he had driven in, no one from the street would know he was home. Little
wonder he didn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder. If only he’d spent
the night at a bar or with Madison.

“Don’t worry,” she called after him as he
trudged toward his front door, his shoulders once more slumped. “We’re going to
sort this out, and you and Madison will get married.”

He nodded and smiled, but it was a tired
smile, as if he couldn’t quite believe her.

***

The cell phone
buzzed again like an annoying mosquito, dragging Emma from her sleep.

 “A Perfect Party,” she mumbled into the
phone, reluctantly extricating herself from her dreams of a warm beach
vacation. “This is Emma Cassidy speaking.”

“H-hello?” The woman on the other end of
the call sniffed. “Emma? I know it’s early to be calling, b-but I was wondering
if we could meet soon.” The effort of holding back tears masked her voice,
though it sounded vaguely familiar.

“Of course we can.” Emma sleepily
suppressed a yawn. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Jordan. Jordan Kozlowki.”

Ohhhh
.
Jordan Kozlowski, Tony Burnet’s girlfriend. Suddenly wide awake, Emma
jackknifed up in bed and cleared her throat.

“Oh, Jordan, I’m so sorry about Tony.”

Loud sobbing burst out, forcing Emma to
lift the phone half an inch away from her ear. Jordan sounded really cut up.

“I c-can’t believe he’s g-gone! My poor
T-Tony. Who would do such a thing to him?”

Poor Tony?
Emma murmured something appropriate while Jordan sputtered on. Maybe it was
cynical of her to think so, but Emma was surprised by the depth of Jordan’s
sorrow. She hadn’t noticed much warmth between the two, but maybe in private
they were different? And love could be so blind…

“C-can you come over to the house?” Jordan
asked when she had gotten over the worst of her sobbing. “I need your help with
the reception.”