Two Scoops of Murder (Felicity Bell Book 2) (16 page)

B
right
and early the next morning sleep was wiped from Felicity’s eyes by a bird chirruping on her windowsill. She rose and walked over to the window, gazing outside. Spring had finally come to Happy Bays and the trees were in bloom, blossoms springing up everywhere she looked, with birds tweeting their joy at the new dawn.

It was as if all nature celebrated, and the contrast to recent events couldn’t be greater. For Happy Bays had been thrown into turmoil. Three people dead in the space of a mere couple of days. What was going on? This was unprecedented. To Felicity’s recollection not a single murder had taken place in her hometown in recent times, and now this.

They’d read Virgil’s notes and discussed them with the other members of the watch committee, but that hadn’t led them anywhere. The police officer, as Alice had already indicated, was a lost cause when it came to stopping this unprecedented killing spree.

The man might be a force to be reckoned with when policing traffic, but his notes were unimaginable and deadly dull. He’d gone through the motions of interviewing witnesses but hadn’t had any real brainwaves or flashes of brilliance. Clearly his was a mind not equipped to dealing with murder. Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes could breathe easy. Their reign was unchallenged.

The only interesting factoid was that Carla Santonica had had her abortion, through a private loan from a close friend. So whatever resentment she’d harbored toward Alistair Long was unlikely to have led to murder. After some more digging Felicity had even discovered this personal friend was none other than Mary Long herself. The innkeeper, behind her husband’s back, had apparently raised enough money to pay for Carla’s abortion.

So that cinched it. Carla Santonica could be scratched from the suspect list, as it was very unlikely she would go around killing her benefactor.

And then there was Jack Hudson. Reece had quickly dismissed the notion that his father would go after the Longs. Jack had gotten over the loss of Benji years ago, and had attributed it to an unfortunate accident. Especially since Alistair, being a dog lover himself, had been devastated by what happened.

That left Rob Long, but as Rob had apparently tried to commit suicide at the exact same moment his mother was being murdered, and had been seen by a witness, that left him out of it as well.

And then there was Stephen Conch. Unfortunately—or fortunately for them—the Conches were in Hawaii, enjoying a family vacation, so they were definitely in the clear about last night’s murder. And according to Virgil’s notes Stephen Conch hadn’t been home when Alistair was murdered, and it hardly seemed likely that Billy Conch had killed the old man. Billy was ten.

So the only remaining murder suspect was Ruth Long.

Felicity pondered this. She didn’t know Ruth, as she’d left Happy Bays a long time ago. But she knew someone who knew her very well indeed. Her mother.

As she stumbled into the bathroom she decided to have a chat with Mom. After all, she was a great judge of character and if there was a murderous streak in the Long offspring, Mom would know.

She came upon Alice brushing her teeth. Like herself, her friend seemed hardly awake yet, which wasn’t any wonder, as they’d been up half the night.

“I’m going to get Reece out of jail,” Alice said, removing the toothbrush from her mouth. She gave Felicity a pleading look. “It’s my fault he’s in there in the first place so it’s only right I get him out.”

“I’ll bet he’s out already. He probably has about a thousand lawyers on retainer. They will have pounced on Chief Whitehouse and pried Reece from his cold, dead hands.” She grimaced. “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

“He’s not out yet. I called the station and he spent the night in jail.”

“So how are you going to convince your dad to let him walk?”

“I’ll convince
Virgil
to let him walk. In exchange for his notebook.” She shrugged. “It’s not as if we need it anymore.”

“You think he might go for it?”

“I can try,” said Alice valiantly. “I have to spring the poor guy from prison.”

“I’ll go with you. Bancroft can take the first shift and Busby can do the bread run.”

Alice gave her a sad smile. “Thanks, Fe.”

“Don’t mention it. I feel a little guilty myself. Even though he volunteered, I think Reece didn’t know what he signed up for.”

Alice resumed the brushing of her teeth and Felicity took a seat on the laundry hamper. “I’ve been thinking. So far we’ve managed to clear all the suspects except Ruth Long.”

“I hardly think Ruth Long would kill her own parents.”

“Well, that’s just it. I don’t know her well enough. But my mom does. She used to work with her for years.”

Alice frowned. “She did?”

“She was her speaking coach, remember?” Mom volunteered at the local middle school as a speech therapist, which had been her profession before meeting Peter Bell and becoming a baker. Ruth Long had a slight lisp, and Mom had helped the young girl overcome it.

“Oh, that’s right. Now I remember.” She shook her head. “I still think it’s hardly likely. Who would kill their own parents?” Then she paused, considering. “Though I’m about ready to kill my dad.”

“Perhaps you can talk to your mother about him? Doesn’t she have some pull in the Whitehouse household?”

Alice scoffed, “No way. She keeps out of this and she’s probably right. She never takes sides. Though if I tell her that Reece Hudson might be her next son-in-law, she might reconsider.”

Felicity laughed. “Still thinking about the bet, huh? It’s fine, Alice. I told you already that you can have all the donuts you want, and I don’t mind cleaning the house by myself. Or I could ask Mom to help out.”

“It’s not that.” Alice suddenly looked a little hesitant. “I—I like him, Fe. And not just as a movie star, but…”

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

Alice nodded sheepishly. “Yep. Beneath all that tinsel he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” She stood and gave her friend a hug. “Then go for it, hon. You have my blessing.”

“Thanks,” Alice murmured. “I would go for it, if not for the fact that he’s engaged to be married.”

“There is that.” Though Bancroft felt the engagement was a bust, Dorothy Valour was still very much in the picture last she heard.

Alice shrugged, putting on a brave face. “Let’s get him out of prison first. And who knows, Dorothy might resent getting married to a jailbird and break off the engagement.”

R
ob stared before him
, bleary-eyed and suffering from an excruciating headache. He didn’t remember much of what happened last night, but apparently his wife did. He’d never seen her this upset.

“You shouldn’t have done it, Rob. You really shouldn’t.”

He gave her a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I am. I just figured I was doing you a favor.”

Her eyes widened incredulously. “Doing me a favor? By deserting me? By making me a widow? Strange idea of favor you have.”

“I know, I know. I just thought…” He lifted his hands feebly. “I just figured you were better off without me.”

“That’s for me to decide, not you. Oh, Rob. Don’t you see that I love you? I’m your wife. We stick together through thick and thin. Till death do us part, remember? In good days and bad? For better or worse?”

“This is definitely the worst day of my life,” he said, pressing his fingers against his pounding temples. “The absolute very worst.”

“You’re a bit of a loser, Rob. But you’re my loser and I love you.”

He looked up. She hadn’t said those words in ages and neither had he. “You’re serious? You still love me, in spite of everything?”

“Of course, you big doofus.” She sat down on the bed next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “You thought you could just leave me, huh? Good thing I switched those pills of yours.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he muttered.

“They’re not good for you, honey. I told you from the start. And you never felt the difference, did you? Always slept like a baby, just by sucking those sugar pills.”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted. He did sleep well, placebos or not. Though now that he knew they weren’t real they probably wouldn’t work anymore.

“Horrible thing about your mother, though.”

“What horrible thing?”

Maggie sat bolt upright. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Alarmed, he gaped at her.

“The police…they didn’t tell you?”

He rubbed his eyes. “All they told me was that I should sleep it off. When they found me I was dead drunk. I could hardly walk.”

“I know. You were a mess.” She took his hand and squeezed it tenderly. “Honey, you gotta be strong now, you hear? Your mother…” She closed her eyes, her face a mask of grief.

“What, what? Tell me already, will you?”

“She’s dead.”

The words didn't register at first. “Dead? What do you mean dead?”

“She passed away last night, Rob.”

He gaped at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Would I ever kid about something terrible like that? She died, Rob. And what’s worse…”

“Worse? What could be worse?” Then it hit him. “God, no. Don’t tell me that she…”

Maggie nodded. “She was murdered, same as your daddy.”

“Shot?”

“Knocked over the head with a big club, from what I heard. The police talked to all of us last night. Except you, of course. You were sleeping off your hangover.”

He shook his head. “What’s going on, honey? What’s happening?”

“A murderer is on the loose, that’s what’s happening, and if we’re not careful, he’ll do us next.”

“Christ, we gotta get out of this place.” He jerked his head up, which he probably shouldn’t have, for a lancing pain shot through his skull. “Dammit.”

“Serves you right for trying to desert me,” she said primly, then relented and placed a cooling hand on his brow. “I’ll get you some aspirin.”

As she walked over to the cupboard, he repeated, “We gotta go, honey. We’re not safe here. If this maniac is going after the Long family we might be next.”

She handed him aspirin and a glass of water. “We can’t go.”

He swallowed it down. “Why not? Do you wanna get killed next?”

“It’s the cops. They told us to stay put. Besides, we now have two funerals to deal with, remember?”

“Two funerals…” It dawned on him that he was an orphan now. Not that it made much difference, as he practically hadn’t been in touch with Mom and Dad for years, but still. The thought of his folks not being there anymore… It was hard to fathom. “This is a nightmare.”

“You’re right about that,” she agreed. “And it ain’t over yet.”

N
athan looked
out the window to see if the coast was clear. No one. Fine. Great! Of course the police wouldn’t be patrolling the inn. They probably had five cops tops in this one-horse town. He grinned. Now was the time to make a run for it. He’d registered under one of his aliases, so the moment he was gone he would never have to think about Happy Bays again.

He picked up his suitcase, checked around to see if he hadn’t missed a spot—no fingerprints, no DNA—and strode to the door.

He still didn’t understand what happened to Malcolm. Had the old lady managed to get the upper hand? But then why was she reported dead herself? No, it seemed to him Malcolm had finished the job, then had run afoul of a third party. And something told him this third party would now be after him.

Could it be the client?

But why hire two assassins only to take them out?

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t professional. And it certainly wasn’t nice.

He’d take the back exit, sneak out to his car and haul ass.

And he was just about to open the door when a soft knock sounded.

He opened it warily, expecting either a cop or the client.

He was surprised to find it was neither.

“Hello there,” he said. “Can I help you?”

He only saw the knife when it was too late. But then it was already lodged firmly in his chest. He stared down at the hilt, not understanding what had just happened, then up at his visitor.

“Why?” he whispered.

The visitor stared at him, wide-eyed, and smiled. “Because she told me to, of course.”

Nathan dropped down to the floor, the life quickly seeping out of him. Such a shame, he thought. Such a damn shame.

W
hen Felicity drove
to the police station she was surprised to find three broadcasting vans parked outside, reporters milling about the place, setting up cameras and delivering live news reports.

She and Alice shared a look. “Reece,” Alice muttered.

Damn. The media had discovered the story.

They stepped from the van and walked up to the station house.

Alice eyed the media frenzy. “I hope this won’t damage his career.”

“I’m sure it won’t. Any publicity is good publicity, right?”

“Right,” said Alice, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Felicity didn’t think Virgil would be so easy to placate. After all, the police officer might be a muppet but he was also a guy and as such equipped with an oversized ego. Boys hate to be bested by girls, and Alice had humiliated him by absconding with his notebook.

They sidestepped the reporters, who kept a respectable distance from the police station entrance, and stepped inside. Louise Rhythm, the police officer manning the front desk, looked up and displayed a lovely smile. “Alice! Woman of the hour! Is it true you stole Virgil’s notebook?”

Alice grinned. “If I did—and I’m not admitting anything—I had good reason to.”

Louise, a petite woman with olive complexion and cornrows, held up her hand and Alice high-fived her. “Good for you.”

“Do you know if Reece is still here?”

Officer Rhythm’s eyes turned dreamy. “Oh, is he now? We never had so many visitors before. Didn’t you notice the media circus outside?”

“Yes, we did. Poor guy,” said Felicity.

“That’s what you get for impersonating a cop. Your idea, was it?”

Felicity felt it was time to set the record straight. “In fact it was Reece’s idea. He volunteered to join the HBNWC and thought it would be a good idea to pump the witnesses for information. Why he felt he needed to pretend to be a cop, I don’t know.”

“I do,” said Alice. “He probably thought it would be great research for his next movie.”

“Research or not, Chief Whitehouse is not amused. He wants to press charges.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “The man is incorrigible.”

“He is the chief,” Louise said with a shrug. “And also an overbearing, grumpy, annoying, nosy—”

Just then, the man himself strode by and directed a look of censure at the three women before disappearing through the double doors that led to his office.

“—grouch,” Louise finished on a whisper.

Chief Whitehouse, regardless of his merits, wasn’t the most popular man on campus, that much was obvious.