A Country Gift Shop Collection: Three cosy crime novels that will keep you guessing!. Vivian ConroyЧитать онлайн книгу.
can never say no to her. She buys his suits, his designer ties, decides where they vacation. Or when his workroom needs a new orange wall with the ugliest painting you have ever seen. Who can work across from an orange wall?”
He huffed. “One big reason why I won’t marry. No wife, no hassle.”
Vicky smiled to herself. Cash had said that before, but still he had dated. She supposed he liked togetherness as much as anybody. And once the right person came along…
She cast him a sideward look. He still had his football muscle. He had a nice honest face and he had shaped up in the responsibility department too. Former bad boy Cash Rowland had reformed.
Then she remembered the red Jaguar from the old police report and Cash’s lie about the bar fight. She cleared her throat. “Cash, do you know anything, anything at all, that can explain a relationship between Mortimer and Deke? Financially perhaps?”
“No. Not at all. You?”
“I’m not sure.” She tried to sound casual. “I know so little about town relations really. I’ve been away for years, you know.”
Cash looked at her gravely. “What a time to come home, huh?”
Vicky followed Cash’s Jeep into town. Just as she cruised down Main Street, Marge came running from the library waving at Vicky to halt. Vicky pulled up at the curb and lowered the window. Marge leaned in. “The dispatcher at the sheriff’s station is a cousin of Mrs. Jones’ niece’s boyfriend and she told her when they met for coffee that Deke was asked to come to the station this afternoon to make a statement related to the murder. So Mrs. Jones said that as Deke got on a plane for California, he was obviously not going to make his statement. Maybe he won’t even stay in San Francisco, but try and cross the border into Mexico or even further to Colombia. Mr. Jones said that’s where fugitives go to start a new life.”
Vicky cringed inwardly. “Look, I was with the sheriff when his brother called in and said he was flying out for a business meeting. There is nothing sneaky about it. He just couldn’t cancel the meeting. His company would miss out on a big deal if he didn’t go. Since he duly reported it to Cash, nothing is wrong.”
Marge wasn’t convinced. She lowered her voice. “Deke could be Celine’s killer. If Cash allowed him to walk, he could be aiding and abetting. He could lose his badge over this.”
Vicky sighed. “Maybe Cash didn’t think too hard about it. He seems to think he’ll get a second dead body on his hands.”
She pointed up at the apartment’s windows. “He’s going over to Everett Baker’s now and coming back here with a key to have a look inside and make sure Gwenda didn’t get murdered as well last night.”
“That I have to see,” Marge said and hovered on the pavement, while Vicky parked the car in the lot down the street and rushed back so she wouldn’t miss anything.
As the two of them entered the gift shop, there was still a vague scent of paint on the air, mixing with the beeswax used on the sideboards.
The cozy sight of the first furnishings distracted Vicky a moment from her speculations about Gwenda Gill. With a loving gaze around, she dropped her purse and coat in one of the two leather armchairs. She had planned on bringing things from her cottage to create cozy scenes and snap those as promotional pics for her flyer. Maybe she should just push on with that? She wasn’t quite sure what else to do about the murder investigation, at least not until Marge’s husband had made sure Mortimer hadn’t hidden additional evidence from the files in Perkins’ barn among his birdcages. Tonight.
“Cash already has the key and is coming back here,” Marge reported from her lookout position in the doorway. She popped inside quickly to remain unseen. They heard the key turn in the lock, then footfalls thunder up the stairs.
They both listened for anything suspicious—an exclamation, footfalls returning fast—but nothing happened.
Marge hitched a brow at Vicky. “I don’t think Gwenda is lying there. Cash would have responded somehow, right?”
Vicky nodded. “Let’s wait until he comes down again so we can see his expression. But I bet you Gwenda just left town for a day or two to escape all the speculation following Mortimer’s death.”
She gave Marge a quick recap of her meeting with Diane at Ralph Sellers’ poultry farm. “I now know for sure that the call I saw Mortimer make from the window must have been the one to Deke. Mrs. Jones hadn’t been able to overhear anything of the conversation. She said so herself when I talked to her right afterward, so it would be pointless to go ask her again. But what about Everett Baker? Mortimer wasn’t looking where he was going and about ran him off the curb. Maybe Everett recalls a snippet of the conversation? I’ll go out to Everett’s offices and ask him just as soon as Cash is done upstairs. According to my mother, Everett Baker likes me so much that he’s bound to share everything he knows.”
Marge nodded. “Good idea.”
Overhead was a sound as if doors were being opened and closed with a bang.
“Is Cash looking inside her closets?” Vicky asked, puzzled.
“Maybe the place has been ransacked?” Marge said with wide eyes. “It always is on TV. Maybe the killer looked through Gwenda’s things to find the evidence, but came up empty. Of course he had no idea that smart Mortimer had already put it in your unfinished fireplace.”
“Hmmm,” Vicky said. It might have been smart of Mortimer, but right now it left her in a spot. What if the killer somehow found out about it and her store was next on his list to ransack? She already saw her sideboards’ doors torn out and the leather armchairs cut open.
The damages to her brand-new furniture would put a serious dent in her budget, not to mention she’d hardly feel safe in her own store anymore.
Footfalls thundered down the stairs, and Cash burst from the apartment’s door. He dragged it closed behind him without bothering to lock it.
Marge was already by his side to test her theory. “Ransacked, huh, Sheriff? Makes sense.”
“Ransacked?” Cash looked puzzled. “Neater than my sister-in-law’s place. Not a speck of dust, no laundry anywhere. Not a dirty plate on the sink or an overdue milk carton in the fridge. In fact, that fridge was almost empty. So were her closets. Even the dog bed and feeding bowls were gone. Like Gwenda packed up and left town. For good.”
Marge turned to stare at Vicky. “So Gwenda did kill Mortimer and ran off with all the money he had in his home.”
“Having cleaned out her apartment before she went to see Mortimer and had no idea yet she’d find him with all this money and steal it to run?” Cash shook his head. “Your theory has holes, Marge Fisher. But you can spread it around town anyway. There is no law against gossiping. For if there was, you’d all be in jail!”
He stomped away to where he had left his Jeep in front of Everett Baker’s building.
Marge huffed. “Getting a little frustrated, huh, now that the investigation is not going his way. Every suspect is giving him the slip. First Gwenda last night, now his own brother. Who will he have left?”
“He’ll want to pin it on Michael,” Vicky said gloomily. “That’s the only suspect he has under lock and key! Cash has some far-fetched theory that Michael killed Mortimer before he came to me to pick me up, just to take me along and pretend we found the body together.”
“Now there is a theory with holes,” Marge burst out. “Since getting his badge Cash Rowland has solved one cattle theft and it was not even a theft. Now he has to deal with murder. And if we are right about the connection with the past, with Celine’s disappearance, he is dealing with a killer who has killed before and escaped justice. I know you’re always defending Cash, but do you honestly think he is resourceful enough to capture someone clever and cold-blooded like that?”
“Maybe not on his own,” Vicky admitted.