Cheep Shot Murder (Pet Shop Cozy Mysteries Book 11) Read online

  “It’s not dumb,” she mutters finally.

  “I never said your plan was dumb,” I protest. “Karen did. But I do think it’s dangerous. These people have already shown a capacity to do awful things—”

  “Stop saying ‘these people,’” she insists. “I refuse to believe that people like Sylvia and Joe are evil. We know Sturgess is a monster, and those Blumbergs are off their rockers, but I don’t want this to tear the town apart any further. I have a responsibility to do what’s best for everyone in town, not just the people I like.”

  “I understand, but I don’t think that putting yourself at an unnecessary risk is the answer. I really think—”

  My cell phone rings from the center console, cutting me off. I glance at it and groan. “It’s Strauss.”

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  Honestly, I was going to ignore it, but instead I roll my eyes and answer. “Hi, Georgia.”

  “Will, can you meet me tomorrow?” she asks curtly.

  “Actually, I’ve kind of got some stuff going on—”

  “Don’t we all? Meet me at the park behind the pet shop at eleven.” She hangs up.

  I scoff. “Sure Georgia, always nice to chat with you.”

  ***

  The next morning, I open the Pet Shop Stop at eight a.m. Sarah stays behind to get some more packing done at the house. Dennis comes in around nine, his mousy brown hair sticking up in tufts. Poor guy doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping much lately.

  At ten-thirty Sarah comes in to relieve me so that I can go meet Strauss. Before I head down to the park, I ask Dennis for a favor.

  “Listen,” I tell him, “I know this whole… thing has got you a little twisted up. But I could really use your help.”

  “Sure, Will,” he replies, monotone.

  “Dennis,” I lower my voice conspiratorially. “I don’t think you understand. I could really use your help.”

  For a moment, his eyes light up. “You mean with an investigation?” he whispers.

  I nod solemnly. “I’m trying to find the man who killed Logan Morse.”

  “I’m in,” he says immediately. “Whatever you need.”

  “Good. I want you to head down to town hall. There’s a young guy that works there, about your height with black hair. He drives a red coupe. He’s going to leave for lunch within the hour. When he does, I want you to follow him, and then call me and tell me where he goes.” Thanks to Sammy, I know at least a few details about the mayor’s secretary, and having Dennis case the joint—to use some Bill Mulligan parlance—gives me the time I need to meet with Georgia Strauss.

  “You got it,” he tells me, a sudden verve in his demeanor. I figured he’d want to help out if he could, all things considered.

  After Dennis leaves, I call for Rowdy and the two of us walk the couple of blocks to the small park down the road. When we arrive, Strauss is already there, sitting on a bench and seemingly watching the birds peck at worms in the grass.

  I sit down beside her as Rowdy chases the birds away. “So, I’m here.”

  “Thank you for meeting me.” Strauss is a county judge that lives on the hill in Seaview Rock—not a literal hill, that’s just what we locals call the ritzy part of town. I’d peg her around late fifties, with short silver hair, piercing eyes and a sharp nose, all of which lend to her resemblance to a hawk.

  And I’ve also found that she has a habit of being annoyingly cryptic, ever since she’s been hiring me on for private cases.

  “I have something for you,” she says in her typical curt manner.

  “I can’t. I’m still suspended,” I reply. “Unless you managed to get me out of that.” Just a few days ago, Patty Mayhew found out that I was investigating Morse’s murder after she explicitly told me not to. Patty spoke with her friends in the state police and got my PI license suspended for sixty days as a warning.

  “I’m still working on that. But this isn’t an investigation. Let’s call it… research.”

  I chuckle a little. “And what would Patty call it?”

  “I couldn’t say. But if you’re that concerned, then my advice would be don’t get caught.”

  “Great. Do you want to tell me what it is before I tell you no?”

  “Scones,” she says simply.

  “Scones?”

  She nods. “There used to be a place here in Seaview Rock called Buddy’s Bakery. You remember it?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “They had, hands-down, the most delicious scones I’ve ever tasted. Sadly, they closed suddenly about twenty years ago—no, eighteen, actually.”

  Eighteen years ago I was in my early twenties and away at college, which would explain why Buddy’s Bakery doesn’t ring many bells with me. “Great. What does this have to do with me?”

  “I’d like you to find out what happened to those scones.”

  I rub my temples. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  She looks over at me for the first time, and I find it hard to hold her piercing gaze. “I assure you, Will, I am not kidding. Losing those scones was one of the single biggest regrets of my life.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” I stand up, growing angry. “We both know this isn’t about scones, just like your ‘dog-napping spree’ wasn’t about missing dogs. Can you just try not to be cryptic and weird for one minute and just tell me what this is really about?”

  She stands too, sliding the strap of her designer handbag up onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more to go on, but I have every confidence in your ability. I’ll make it worth your while; time and a half your usual rate.” She glances over at Rowdy, happily chasing birds away. “Find out what happened to those scones, Will. I’ll be waiting for your call.” She strides off, leaving me dumbfounded and annoyed.

  CHAPTER 4

  * * *

  Dennis calls me as I’m heading back to the Pet Shop Stop from my meeting with Strauss.

  “That guy you asked me to follow? He just went into the Chinese take-out place downtown.”

  “You mean Wok N’ Roll?” I ask him.

  “No the other one. Wok This Way.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Dennis.” I hang up and, instead of heading back into the pet shop, I get into my SUV with Rowdy in the passenger seat and drive the several blocks to the Chinese food restaurant. As I head over there, I consider how exactly I’m going to confront the secretary without scaring him off or making him suspicious. I think the best course of action is to just play aloof—pretend I recognize him from elsewhere and get the guy talking about the murder, tell him there are rumors around town. I can read people pretty well, and hopefully the way he reacts will give me something to go on.

  “Stay here, pal,” I tell Rowdy as I pull up in front of Wok This Way. I get out and stride quickly to the door, but before I can pull it open someone pushes it from the inside and I suddenly find myself face to face with the mayor’s secretary—a young guy, black haired and clean shaven, in a tie and shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

  “Oh, excuse me.” I go left, and so does he. I go right, and he does too. He rolls his eyes in annoyance and steps aside for me to enter.

  “Hey, um, don’t I know you from somewhere?” I ask him. “Aren’t you the mayor’s secretary?”

  “Assistant,” he grumbles.

  “Gesundheit.”

  “No, I’m the mayor’s assistant, not his secretary.”

  “Right, right. You’re, uh…” I snap my fingers as if I’m trying to recall a name.

  “Aaron,” he tells me. “Aaron Sutherland.”

  “Right! Aaron. Yes. My girlfriend is on the town council. She speaks very highly of—”

  Aaron Sutherland scoffs. “I know who you are, Mr. Sullivan. And I saw your employee follow me here. He couldn’t be more conspicuous if he was in a police car with the sirens on.”

  “…Oh.” Well, so much for best intentions.


  “What do you want?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  I back away from the door and he steps outside too, joining me on the sidewalk. The guy is clearly smarter than I gave him credit for, and it’s possible that Sturgess warned him about me and my penchant for getting involved in things.

  I guess I might as well tell him what’s on my mind.

  “Look, Aaron,” I start, “we both know that the mayor wasn’t in his office the morning Logan Morse was killed. But you told the cops he was. Now, I’m not a lawyer, but I’m pretty sure that’s a felony. What would that be—aiding and abetting at worst, obstruction of justice at best?”

  Aaron stares me down evenly. “And what would the police think if they knew that we were having this conversation right now, Mr. Sullivan?”

  Well. I guess Mayor Sturgess is aware of my suspension. But there’s no way I can back down now. “I would assume they’d be unhappy, but probably far less concerned with me than our mayor having committed a murder.”

  Aaron shrugs a little. “The police questioned Mayor Sturgess. They found no reason to suspect him. If you’re so sure, where’s your proof?”

  Inside I’m growing increasingly irritated with how smug this guy is, but outwardly I force a smirk and tell him, “Oh, don’t worry about that. It’ll all come to light very soon.”

  For just a split second, I see the guy get nervous. His eyes widen and his gaze flits to the left. But then he shakes his head and says, “No. If you had anything you would’ve gone straight to the cops. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

  Now it’s my turn to shrug smugly. “Maybe. Or maybe I want to give him an opportunity. Seaview Rock doesn’t need another scandal and he knows it. He can do the honorable thing, turn himself in and confess, or the cops will come for him, and I’ll make sure there’s lots of press around when they do. I’ll give him until tomorrow afternoon to make a choice.”

  Aaron narrows his eyes again, scrutinizing me, as if trying to determine if I’m lying or not. Then without another word he turns and strides to his car.

  I let out a long sigh as Dennis trots up behind me. “Hey,” he asks breathlessly, “how’d that go?”

  “Not great. I told him I suspect the mayor of murder and that I have evidence proving it.”

  “The mayor?!” Dennis balks. “You think the mayor did this?”

  “I know he did it.”

  “Then why not just hand the evidence over to the cops?” he asks.

  “Because I don’t actually have any, Dennis. And now I have just over twenty-four hours to get my hands on some.”

  He frowns. “So you don’t actually have evidence, and you told him all that? You know he’ll just go back to the mayor and tell him, right?”

  “I’m counting on it.” Dennis is right; chances are good that Aaron will run back to Sturgess and tell him about our little encounter. And if there is any evidence to be had, Sturgess will probably make a desperate attempt to cover it up.

  “I need you to go back to town hall and keep an eye out,” I tell Dennis. “If you see the mayor or his assistant go anywhere, call me. Sammy or myself will come relieve you in a couple hours.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And Dennis? Be discreet. This isn’t Bill Mulligan. We may only get one chance at this, and we need to make it count.”

  “You got it, Will. I’ll be like a shadow. Like a ninja. Like a… like a…”

  “I get the idea.”

  Dennis trots back over to his car as I head toward my own. Just as I’m opening my door, I get that strange prickly-back-of-the-neck sensation you get when you think you’re being watched.

  I turn and glance across the street to see Patty Mayhew, in her police uniform, sitting in her cruiser at the curb. Her eyes are hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses but I’m certain she’s looking right at me.

  She nods to me, just once. I can’t tell if it’s a friendly gesture or a warning. I nod back slightly and then get in my car.

  CHAPTER 5

  * * *

  I head back to the Pet Shop Stop to share my “meeting” with Aaron Sutherland with Sarah. I know she’s not going to be thrilled about me involving her brother in an investigation again—especially an investigation that I’m not even supposed to be doing—but you know what they say about desperate times.

  When I arrive back at the shop, Rowdy and I are greeted by not only Spark, but also by a peppy little white-and-black cockapoo—one of our kennel pups (I have a real problem with calling them “inventory”). Sarah is on her hands and knees, the top half of her in the dog’s kennel as she scrubs the floor.

  “What’s all this?” I ask. “Did someone have an accident?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She grimaces.

  “Need some help?”

  “Nope, I got it. What did Strauss want?”

  Right, that. I’m going to have to start tying strings around my fingers to remind myself of all the things I’m supposed to be looking into at any given time.

  “She, uh… well, she’s strange. She wants me to ‘research’ a bakery that closed down some years ago here in town.”

  “Oh?” Sarah straightens and tugs the yellow rubber gloves off her hands. “I don’t remember a bakery here.”

  “I think it closed before you moved here—we’re going back about eighteen years. It was called Buddy’s Bakery.”

  “And what’s the significance?”

  I shrug. “I can never tell with Strauss, and she can never just tell me. Figured I’d start by poking around online.”

  “Eighteen years… that would have been late nineties. You can try, but I wouldn’t expect it to yield much.” She corrals the little cockapoo back into her kennel as I go around the counter to use the computer we keep there. “By the way, did you make any headway with the mayor’s secretary?”

  “Assistant.”

  “Bless you.”

  “No, it’s the mayor’s assistant, not secretary.” I click on the little icon to open the internet, but then I notice that there’s another window open. I click on it; it’s a word-processing document with about a page of text typed out.

  “Fine, ‘assistant.’ Did you talk with him?”

  “Yeah…” I say absentmindedly as I scan the document. “Sarah, what’s this?”

  “What’s what?”

  “This document on the computer.”

  “Oh. I, uh…” She clears her throat. “I thought I’d closed that.”

  “Uh-huh. Because you wouldn’t want me to see your proposition to…” I look up at her. “Renovate Dalton Manor into a contemporary art gallery?”

  She looks away. “You know it’s not real. It’s just to…”

  “To paint a target on your back.” I shake my head, dismayed. “I thought you were going to give me time.”

  “And I am,” she insists. “That’s just a precaution—”

  “What, in case I fail?”

  “No, Will, it’s because…” She shrugs. “I’m sorry. I just think my plan is better than yours.”

  “Your plan is going to get someone hurt. Probably you!” I almost shout.

  She bristles. “Well, did you ever stop to consider that your plan might get you hurt?” she fires back. “I don’t want that!”

  “I’m not going to get hurt—”

  “Will, we’re dealing with at least one person who seems to have no problem murdering a lifelong friend. Do you think he would have any trouble getting rid of you?”

  “I…” I guess I hadn’t really thought of it that way. “Even so, that doesn’t matter. Better me than you.”

  “No, it’s not!” She throws her hands up in frustration and one yellow rubber glove goes flying. “I’m the one that upset everybody. I’m the one that’s been pushing all these new ideas that they’re so afraid of. I’m the one that created the loophole that got Logan Morse killed.” Her arms fall to her sides and her shoulders
droop in defeat. “This is all my fault.”

  I come around the counter and hug her tightly. “No, it’s not. You can’t think like that. Everything you’ve done has been in the name of improving things around here for everyone. You’re no more to blame than Dennis is for writing a comic. It’s the people that took those ideas and twisted them into something ugly that are to blame here.”

  She hugs me back, resting her head on my shoulder, and says, “I’m sorry, Will, but there’s nothing you can say that’s going to stop me.”

  “Please…”

  “I’m calling an emergency council meeting tomorrow night. I’m going to introduce the new proposal then. You know Holly and Mr. Casey will approve it.”

  “Don’t.”

  “It’ll work. I know it will.” She lets me go and wipes her eyes. “I’m going for a walk.” She strides toward the door without looking back.

  At the mention of the word “walk” Rowdy leaps up and follows her out. A moment later they’re both gone.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  “Hey pal, is this a bad time?” Sammy asks as he enters the store, finding me sitting on the floor with my back to the counter and my chin in my hands.

  “No, it’s fine.” If I’m being honest, I was contemplating ways that I could potentially prevent Sarah from calling an emergency meeting. The only ideas I have so far are to tie her to a chair for the next day or so, or to burn town hall to the ground so that council has nowhere to meet—neither of which are terribly viable options.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asks as I stand and straighten my green apron.

  “Not really.” No matter how stubborn Sarah is being, the last thing she needs right now is to alienate any friends. “What’s up, Sammy?”

  “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, figured I’d drop in on you…”

  “I can always tell when you’re lying, Sam.”