Trunk Show Murder (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 2) (3 page)

“It’s just because he’s got a crush on you, that’s all,” Betty said. “Give the poor man a break and ask him out on a date. It’s not dignified for the police chief to be running around all moon-eyed.” Betty bustled into the back room to start her day before Sadie could reply.

Mr. Bradshaw patrolled the shop for unwanted interlopers such as chipmunks and mice while Sadie figured out what she must sell before she went on another buying trip. It was a little depressing as junk hadn’t been selling as well as she would have liked. But the bell over the door rang and she went out to help a dark-haired woman with glasses and her husband.

The woman spent a lot of time looking at and taking pictures of the strangest items in Sadie’s shop. Which was okay by her, the strangest things were her favorites too. The husband followed her around saying “We don’t have any place to put that,” and “No.” But in the end, they went home with a giant stuffed alligator that had been living in a corner of the shop for rather longer than she would have liked. It might have sold sooner had she displayed it front and center, but it had given Sadie the creeps. And until the moment it sold she had regretted buying it. She helped to load it in their car and noticed that while the woman was busy making alligator puns her husband looked resigned.

Sadie suppressed a shudder and waved goodbye to the alligator whose head was sticking out the back passenger window when Mara walked up.

“Do you know who that was?” Mara asked.

“Just a customer,” Sadie said. “I have her name on the sales slip. Why?”

“She’s a celebrity, that’s why,” Mara said. “She’s one of the most popular bloggers on the Web.”

“I’m not a big blog reader,” Sadie said.

“You should look her up in the next day or two. That huge reptile she just bought will probably be on her blog.”

“Alligator,” Sadie said. “She bought an alligator.”

“That sounds exactly like her.” Mara continued on her way and she went back inside to get away from the blood stain.

At lunch time, she put the closed sign on the door and loaded Mr. B. in the car. They drove west to the office complex on the outside of town and parked in front of Ryan Pallone Enterprises. It occurred to her as she beeped the car remote lock that she probably should have made an appointment. She went in anyway and found his office on the third floor overlooking the atrium.

A very uptight looking receptionist guarded the entrance to Ryan’s office. She had her hair pulled back so tight that Sadie imagined it was like having a facelift. Anyone who could inflict that kind of pain on themselves was a force to be reckoned with. She was just working on what strategy to use when Ryan came out of his office. He stopped at stretched face’s desk and said he was going to lunch. Sadie started forward so that when he turned to leave he just about knocked her over. He was supremely apologetic, which is what she had intended.

“I’m so sorry,” Ryan said catching Sadie gently by the shoulders. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m sure it was my fault,” Sadie said. “Please don’t worry.”

“Did you need something? I was on my way to lunch,” he said and glanced at his watch.

Sadie thought he was trying to be courteous without having to change his plans. He didn’t really want to talk to her.

“Perhaps I could walk you to the parking lot?” she asked.

“Actually, I’m meeting someone downstairs in the café, but you could walk me there if you like,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said and fell into step with him. “I was wondering if you knew that Mayor Rumstocking died last night?”

“Yes, I heard it on the news this morning,” he said. “Tragic.”

“I imagine her death will make your life much easier,” Sadie said, hoping he didn’t turn around and belt her.

“Where are you from again?” He asked. “Are you a reporter?”

“No I’m not a reporter,” she said.

“From the police? If you’re from the police you have to identify yourself before questioning me,” he said stopping and turning to frown down at her.

“No I’m not the police either,” she said and wondered if that was technically a lie. She wasn’t from the police, but she certainly would tell them everything she found out.

“Then why are you questioning me?” he asked.

“Marjorie was killed on the street outside my shop,” she said. “And that makes me an interested party.”

“The death of Mayor Rumstocking may or may not make my life easier, as you put it,” he said.

“That will depend largely on the City Council. Frankly, I’m appalled that you would ask me that question. I’m not a common thug.” He started quickly down the stairs and Sadie had to rush to keep up with him.

“You’ve been fighting Marjorie Rumstocking over that development for several years,” she said. “And I understand it’s gotten quite nasty recently.”

“Yes, there’s been some name-calling on both sides, but it sounds to me like you’re inferring that I will benefit from her death. I assume that means you think I have a motive. I can assure you, Miss - whoever you are, that I had no part in killing our mayor. It angers me that you would even suggest it.” He stopped on the landing and faced her.

“I didn’t suggest it,” Sadie said. “You jumped to that conclusion. For all you know, I’m predevelopment. Did it ever occur to you that I might want to put a shop in your hotel? I assume there will be a lot more foot traffic than in our downtown.”

“Is that why you’re talking to me?” He asked. “Are you interested in renting space in the new hotel?”

“No. I agree with Marjorie Rumstocking, that development would lessen the charm of our town, limit the views from that bluff to hotel guests, and hurt the merchants on Main Street. I don’t think either of those things is a positive result. Nor do I think we need outlet stores to attract tourists to our town.” The design called for a half mile long mall of outlet stores to be connected to the hotel. It appalled her.

“I don’t understand why you’re here.” He said. “Except to irritate me and make me late for lunch. What could you possibly be hoping to gain from this conversation?”

“I really just came to get an impression of you,” she said. “I wanted to know if you were the coldhearted bastard the people said.”

“And what did you find out?” He asked a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Yes,” she said. “You are. Not one word of regret or condolences for her family. No horror at her death on the streets of our town. You don’t care that she died, and you’re already working behind the scenes to elect a mayor who will help sway the Town Council in your favor.”

His face turned a livid red. “You have no proof of that,” he said. “How dare you accuse me of trying to fix an election, I should have you arrested.”

“I don’t think I can be arrested for telling you what I think to your face,” Sadie said. “You can try if you like. And as for proof, isn’t that the man who ran against Mayor Rumstocking in the last election?” She pointed down into the atrium where a man in an expensive suit was trying to get Ryan’s attention.

“Just because I’m having lunch with him,” Ryan said. “Doesn’t mean I’m trying to fix an election. There is no law that says I can’t back him, especially if I think his mayorship would benefit me.”

“As long as you didn’t have anything to do with the events that make it possible for him to run for mayor again,” she said.

“And I didn’t,” he said. “This conversation is over. Please leave.” He started quickly down the stairs.

Sadie didn’t turn and leave until he was seated at the table. She didn’t like being told what to do.

Chapter Three

The next day Sadie was at her table on the sidewalk outside her store, when she spotted a young, dark-haired woman in her late teens or early twenties sitting on a bench in the park. She looked closely. Yes, it was Britt Rumstocking, Marjorie Rumstocking’s daughter, so she grabbed Mister Bradshaw’s leash and crossed over to the park. She didn’t go straight up to Britt, but let Mister Bradshaw sniff around in the grass until they ended up at Britt’s bench. Sadie sat down with a sigh, pretending that Mister Bradshaw had worn her out.

“Such a lovely day,” she said. “Don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Britt said.

“Oh my,” Sadie said. “I’m sorry, you are Mayor Rumstocking’s daughter. My condolences.”

Britt nodded, apparently unaffected by her mother’s death. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

“You aren’t upset by your mother’s death?” Sadie found this very interesting.

“Why should I be?” Britt asked. “We all die. There’s no point in going nuts, wearing dark clothes and black arm bands. It was her time to die. That’s all.”

Sadie was willing to bet that the girl wasn’t really as cold as she was making herself out to be. The question was – was it more productive to let her go on pretending she didn’t care, or to facilitate bringing her true feelings to the surface. Sadie thought probably the second course of action to bring her more information -and at the same time the healthier for the girl.

“You won’t miss your mother, then?” she asked.

“I suppose I’ll miss her a little bit,” Britt said. “There’s no point wailing over it. And truthfully, my mother was overbearing. She always thought she knew best.”

“Mothers do tend to always think they know what’s best for their children. That’s true.” Sadie reached down and picked up Mister Bradshaw. He curled up in her lap.

“What’s your dog’s name?” Britt asked.

“This is Mister Bradshaw,” Sadie told her. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Does he like being held by strangers?” Britt asked.

“Depends on the stranger,” Sadie said. “But I’m willing to bet he would like you.” She scooped Mister Bradshaw up from her lap and handed him to Britt.

Britt took Mister Bradshaw and cuddled him, burying her face in his fur. Mister Bradshaw licked her ear, which made her laugh. It took about a minute for the laughter to turn to tears. Which Mister Bradshaw then licked off her face.

“Sorry,” Britt said. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” Mister Bradshaw settled in Britt’s lap and licked her hand.

“Don’t you?” Sadie asked. “I would’ve thought it was obvious.”

“You think I’m crying for my mother,” Britt said. “But I’m not.”

“I do think you’re crying for your mother,” Sadie said. “At least partially. And maybe you’re crying for some other reasons too. And maybe right now those other reasons seem bigger, but whether we like it or not, the loss of their mother is always monumental for women. Either, you had a wonderful mother and the loss of her ruptured your heart out, or, you had a terrible mother and now that she’s dead you’ll never get closure. There is a third possibility, which is probably the most common, and that is when you had an imperfect mother, whom you will miss dreadfully, but who you’re also still angry with.”

“I am still angry with her,” Britt said. “I’m almost 21 years old, and she’s forbidden me to see my boyfriend. I told her I’m of age and she can’t, but she said if I didn’t she’d withdraw all financial support. What kind of mother refuses to support her daughter?”

“The kind who is trying to save her daughter from a bad relationship,” Sadie said. “If you love him so much, you should be willing to go be with him without the money. That’s what I think. If you’re not willing, that means you don’t love him enough. I’m sorry that seems cold, but relationships are hard and if you’re not willing to sacrifice something like money, then what will you do when it gets really tough?”

Britt hugs Mister Bradshaw close to her. “But money is the toughest thing, isn’t it? You can’t live without it,” she said.

“For two young people at the start of their life money should be the easiest thing in the world. You both can get jobs, you don’t have children to support, and you have simple needs. If you loved him, you’d be happy to live in a little studio apartment and scrape by. And eventually, you both finish your schooling and get better jobs. Then you move to the suburbs and have kids and then your life gets really complicated and money becomes a big issue. But right now…” Sadie let her last sentence trail off.

A couple of sobs escaped Britt before she pulled it together again. “But that’s the thing,” she said. “Hall doesn’t want to work. He likes to hang out with friends and go to parties. His father cut him off financially until he gets his act together. We were counting on my allowance while I finish school.”

“I see,” Sadie said. “Sponging off you, was he? Expecting you to maintain his lifestyle? That doesn’t sound like love to me, Britt. Does it feel like love to you?”

“No. No, it doesn’t seem like love at all. And I should’ve just told him to get lost when he started getting angry about the money. But I didn’t because I was afraid, and now I think he might’ve killed my mother. And it’s my fault.” Britt buried her face in Mister Bradshaw’s fur and cried.

“It’s not your fault, Britt. If Lawrence Hall killed your mother, it is entirely his fault. No good can come of blaming yourself,” Sadie said.

“But if I’d broken it off, none of this would’ve happened,” Britt said. “So in that way it is my fault.”

“I get the feeling,” Sadie said. “That this young man is abusive. And if it’s true he killed your mother, he very well may have tried to kill you had you broken it off without someone to keep you safe. Try to let go of the guilt and just grieve for your mother. That’s enough pain all by itself. And you can come and see Mister Bradshaw anytime you like.”

“Thank you,” Britt said. “But I don’t even know who you are. Did you know my mother?”

“I knew your mother very well,” Sadie said. “Do you see that little shop over there? The treasure shop? That’s mine. I live over top. If you ever need anything come see me.” Britt nodded and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She handed Mister Bradshaw back to Sadie.

“But what do I do about Hall?” She asked.

“Why don’t you let me take care of Lawrence Hall for you? Would that be all right?” Sadie asked.

“I guess so,” Britt said, “but aren’t you afraid of him?”

“No,” Sadie said. “I’m not afraid of bullies. And I know how to deal with them.” She noticed Britt starting to tear up again. “Now, don’t start blaming yourself. I am a lot older than you are, and I’ve had a lot more experience in life. Dealing with bullies is something that takes a bit of experience. And frankly Britt, you are too young and your life has been too sheltered for you to be able to deal with Lawrence Hall effectively. But I can, and I will.”

“Thank you,” Britt said quietly. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“Sure you do,” Sadie said. “Everyone deserves kindness. And now I’m going off to be kind to Lawrence Hall in an entirely different way.” Sadie stood up and put Mister Bradshaw on the ground. She stopped a moment to drop a kiss on Britt’s head before they headed back across the park to home.

That afternoon Sadie and Mister Bradshaw left Betty in charge of the shop and headed off to find Lawrence Hall. From what she understood, he was living in a fraternity at the University an hour west of Seagrove. It was a smallish university and Sadie figured that it wouldn’t take her too long to find which frat house he lived.

As it turned out when she stopped to help a young man with a flat tire on the road near the University, she found Mister Hall right away. She parked her car behind the expensive blue sports car with a flat tire, and when she and Mister Bradshaw approached he was leaning on the fender of his car talking on the phone. He saw Sadie and cut short his call.

“There’s something I can do to help you?” He asked, clearly annoyed at her.

“I was just coming to ask you the same thing,” she said.  “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“No,” he said. “A tow truck is coming.” He might as well have said ‘now go away,’ because it was implied if not spoken.

Sadie held out her hand. “Sadie Barnett,” she said. “And you are?”

The man didn’t take her hand. “Lawrence Hall,” he said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, but it is my business,” Sadie said cheerfully. “You’re just the person I was coming to see.”

“That can’t possibly be true,” he said. “So whatever it is you want from me, I’m not going to give it to you. You may as well go away.”

Sadie smiled. “You are quite as rude as I expected,” she said. “How delightful to be proven correct.”

“What?” He asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Rude young men who think the world owes them a living. That’s what I’m talking about,” she said. “And I’d like to know what you were doing at 7 PM two nights ago.”

“Why should I tell you what I was doing at 7 PM two nights ago?” He asked. “That’s absurd.”

“Because it’s easier to talk to me than the police,” she said. “Unless you’d rather talk to the police. I’m sure they’d be happy to drag you down to Seagrove and question you there.”

“Why would the Seagrove Police want to question me?” He asked.

“Haven’t you heard? Britt Rumstocking’s mother was killed two nights ago. From what I understand you have a pretty strong motive,” Sadie said.

Hall’s face blanched white. His mouth fell open and he was dumbstruck for at least a full minute. Sadie found that very satisfying.

“So, do you want to tell me what you were doing last Tuesday night?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sure I was probably partying at the frat. I’m almost always there.”

“Maybe we should go there now and ask if anyone else remembers you being there? Shall we?”

“Wait a minute,” he said. “I’m not even seeing Britt anymore. Why would I have a motive to kill her mother?”

“Because her mother forbade her from seeing you, which cuts off your money supply. That’s a very strong motive.”

“Rich girls are ridiculously easy to come by,” he said. “I’ve got two on a string now. I don’t need Britt, in fact, I was happy to be rid of her. She thought I should get a job.”

“You don’t think you should work?” Sadie asked.

“Why should I? My dad is loaded. One of these days he’ll pop off and I’ll inherit. It’s as simple as that.”

“Money isn’t the only reason to work, Mr. Hall,” Sadie said. “One works to make a contribution to society. To make a difference. To be productive.”

“Don’t moralize at me. God, you sound like my mother.” He looked at his cell phone.

“Your mother sounds like a smart woman, you should listen to her,” Sadie said.

Hall made a noise of derision that made him sound like a pig to Sadie. That seemed appropriate.

“I am going to make a suggestion,” she said. “That I want you to think carefully about.” She paused for a beat to make sure she had his attention. He looked up.

“My suggestion is that you stay away from Britt Rumstocking, unless of course you want to be embroiled in a murder investigation, in which case, feel free. If I hear you’ve had anything to do with her, so much as a text comes from you, I will have the Seagrove P.D. in that frat so fast your head will spin. Do you understand?”

“No worries, if it means I’ll never see you again, I will happily stay away from Britt. I was done with her anyway,” he said.

On the way back to town, Sadie wondered if it were true that Hall had been done with Britt. And if he had been done with her was it because of her mother, or was there some other reason?