New England Clam Murder: A Rocky Cove Culinary Cozy Page 4

  **

  Becca knew what she had to do before her feet even hit the floor the next morning. Despite the concern that Trevor’s little sister might get in trouble for not coming forward initially, Becca had to let the police know that Andrea had been too scared to approach them, and turn Simon’s ring over so that she wouldn’t have anything that tied her to him. It was sounding more and more like he may have been his wife’s murderer, and if that was the case, the less Becca had to do with him, the better. She certainly didn’t want to put her own safety at risk. She texted Katie that she would be coming in a bit later than expected, and after her shower and a light breakfast, she headed for the police station.

  Feeling decidedly awkward walking into a building where criminals were processed and housed, she approached the reception desk timidly and asked to see Detective Reynolds. His manner might be terse, but Becca felt that he didn’t look at her with suspicion like his colleague, Detective Gramble, did. She was dismayed when both of them appeared and led her to a small room with one-way glass on two walls, where the only furniture was a chipped formica table and three very uncomfortable-looking chairs. Gramble gestured to the single chair and Becca sat in it, facing them both.

  Reynolds took out his pen and notebook, resuming his silent role and Gramble peered at her quizzically over the top of his glasses.

  “How can we help you today, Ms. Rogers?” he asked, even making that simple question sound as though he suspected her of something. Becca poured out the story of Andrea’s visit, trying to accurately remember every detail. She handed over Simon’s ring and Gramble bounced it up and down in his palm a couple of times.

  “And we’re supposed to believe that this is your ex-husband’s wedding ring?” he asked skeptically.

  “That’s what Andrea told me,” Becca nodded.

  “Can you understand that it seems like an amazing coincidence that she just happened to give it to you?” he stared at her.

  “Ummm...coincidence?” Becca was confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I just find it very interesting that we’ve been talking with you, trying to figure out what happened on the night of Mrs. Langworthy’s death, when Mr. Langworthy wasn’t even in town, and suddenly you come up with ‘evidence’ that points toward his possible involvement in a homicide. That’s a little bit suspicious, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t!” Becca exclaimed, furious at his implication. “I’ve been nothing but cooperative any time that you’ve talked with me, and I just told you that Simon wasn’t out of town, he was with Andrea.”

  “Then why didn’t she come forward with this information herself?” Gramble challenged her.

  “I just told you, she said that she was afraid,” Becca insisted, frustrated beyond belief. “I’m done here. I was trying to do the right thing, trying to help. Now I wonder even it was even worth the effort.” she stood and strode toward the door, which wouldn’t open when she turned the handle.

  “Let me help you with that,” Reynolds offered, standing. Becca remained facing the door, too angry to speak as he stepped around her and put in the code to unlock it. “We’ll check it out,” he said softly. “Thanks for coming down today.” She nodded curtly and stormed from the room as soon as she was able.

  **

  Sinking into her squishy leather executive chair at the office, Becca threw herself into the comforting world of catering with a vengeance, chasing all thoughts of detectives, misbehaving socialites and deranged ex-husbands from her mind. Before she knew it, the sun was beginning to set and her neck ached from craning over paperwork and her computer all day. Katie and crew were on their way out to a couple of delivery-only events and she had been alone for a while, so she was surprised to hear a soft knock on her door, and was even more surprised when Trevor Wycliff popped in with a smile.

  “Hey pretty lady, how about I cash in that raincheck and take you out for a drink?” he offered. His smile and easy manner was like a balm of kindness washing over her and Becca nodded gratefully.

  “Trevor, hi! What a pleasant surprise. Actually, after my day today, that is just what the doctor ordered,” she agreed, standing and stretching. “Give me a few minutes to freshen up?”

  “Of course,” Trevor grinned, ever amiable. “I’ll get there first and secure a couple of spots, just join me when you’re done. I’ll have your drink waiting for you.” he asked her what she would like to drink and gave her the address of the swanky bar and grill on the water where they would meet.

  “That sounds perfect, I’ll see you soon,” she promised, looking forward to an evening that would keep her mind off of Simon, Lacey and Detective Gramble.

  The soothing sounds of laughter, clinking cutlery and smooth jazz greeted her the moment that she walked in the door at The Seashell, and she immediately spotted Trevor, staking out two seats at the gleaming mahogany bar.

  “Perfect timing,” he said, standing as she approached and pulling out a tall, padded leather bar stool for her. “Your drink just arrived.” He slid her glass of Pinot Grigio over to her, and held up his glass of expensive scotch for a toast. “Here’s to rainchecks,” he clinked his glass with hers and took a sip of scotch. Becca hadn’t eaten yet, so they ordered crab cakes as an appetizer and chatted about the catering biz, Trevor’s most recent trip to Europe and the coming warm weather, laughing easily and enjoying each other’s company tremendously. Trevor brought up the topic of Andrea, saying that he was worried because she still didn’t seem to be quite herself recently, and Becca was torn. Part of her wanted to keep Andrea’s visit a secret because the poor girl was embarrassed about her affair with a married man, but she knew that Trevor was terribly concerned about his sister and might be able to provide a shoulder for her to cry on if he knew the truth. He seemed like such a sweet person that she decided to tell him, knowing that he would want to be there for his sister.

  They had both finished their drinks, polished off the appetizer and ordered refills before she was done relating the details of Andrea’s visit. Trevor’s brow furrowed, his expression becoming darker and darker as the story progressed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” he demanded, his teeth clenched.

  “What?” Becca was confused. “She only told me last night and I’m telling you now.”

  “You should have come to me instead of going to the police,” he growled, scaring her with his tone.

  “What? But...why? Andrea feared for her life, I had to tell them,” she defended herself, shocked at the sudden change in his manner. Gone was the sweet, supportive man that she thought she was beginning to know, and in his place a surly stranger who glared at her accusingly.

  “Do you have any clue what kind of embarrassment this sort of thing can bring to Andrea and my entire family? Niles will never propose once word of this gets out, no one is going to marry the slut who got a woman killed,” he sneered harshly.

  “But...I didn’t mean…” Becca began, not certain why she was about to apologize.

  “Of course you didn’t,” he mocked her. “Poor little thing from the wrong side of the tracks who got in over her head. You have no idea how all of this works because it’s not the world you grew up in. You’re nothing but a poser and an interloper, and you’ve screwed up big time,” he spat contemptuously, scraping his bar stool back in a hurry and pushing it up to the bar with a clatter. He looked at Becca and shaking his head in disgust, turned on his heel and walked out, leaving her sitting in motionless amazement, tears welling in her eyes.

  The bartender, having witnessed the last part of their exchange came over and told her in a low tone that he would take care of the bill for her. She nodded her thanks and kept her tears in check until she got to her car. This whole ugly mess had been worse than disillusioning. Was nothing and no one as they seemed? Her entire perception of the world and everything in it had been turned on its head.

  Chapter 8

  “All I’m saying, Ches, is
that I don’t think Becca Rogers is lying,” Detective Lance Reynolds said to his partner. Pieces of paper littered the table between them as they tried to make sense of the limited information that they’d been able to glean about the Langworthy murder.

  “Think about it, Lance, she had the access to the woman’s food and drink, she was caught on camera dumping a drink down her dress, and now she’s been talking with a jealous rival?” The odds are not stacking up in her favor.

  “But what would her motive be?” Reynolds persisted.

  “Motive? How about she hates the new wife of her ex-husband?”

  “But why would she? From what we’ve heard about Simon Langworthy, Becca was probably relieved to file for divorce. And she didn’t ask him for a dime, who does that? Definitely not someone who hates him so badly that she’d murder the new wife for revenge,” he pointed out.

  “Fine - then who else could it be?” Gramble challenged him again. “The husband? The jealous wannabe girlfriend, Andrea? The big brother? They all have alibis. Even that little weasel Niles has one,” he shook his head, stymied.

  “Let me just point out that Andrea Wycliff and Simon Langworthy are each other’s alibi, how convenient is that?” the younger detective offered with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “Yes, but both of them have a lot to lose.”

  “And Becca doesn’t?” Reynolds was incredulous. “She has a successful business that she built with her own blood, sweat and tears, and she hadn’t even spoken to her ex for more than a year. It doesn’t make sense that she would jeopardize what she worked so hard for. What’s Trevor’s alibi?”

  Gramble sighed, picking up a sworn statement. “He left the party before the victim did and there’s security footage that shows he picked up a girl at a hotel bar, went up to her room, and didn’t come out until after the body had been found.”

  “Doesn’t get much more solid than that,” Lance nodded, lost in thought. “Can Langworthy prove that he was with Andrea the night of the murder?”

  “His housekeeper said that the victim came home alone and was very drunk, or drugged or something, so she had to help her up the stairs. When she re-locked the front door, she used her personal security code. To have entered the residence after the maid put Lacey to bed, Langworthy would have had to use his code, and the alarm company records don’t show him coming in until the morning, which is when the body was found.”

  Reynolds jumped on the discrepancy. “So Langworthy lied when he said that he came in the night before!”

  Gramble nodded tiredly. “And he admitted to it in a later statement, saying that he hadn’t wanted his affair with Andrea to be made public. Apparently he was ‘terribly concerned’ about the young lady’s reputation in the community,” he made a face.

  “Yeah, he would be concerned, cuz he’s such a peach of a guy.”

  “Right.” Chester threw down his pen in disgust.

  “And Niles...?” Reynolds gave it one last shot.

  “Was verifiably out of the country.” Gramble crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  A young lab tech came rushing into the office, looking more than a little frazzled.

  “What is it, Gonzales?” Gramble barked, his frustration getting the best of him.

  “You guys aren’t going to believe this, sir,” she said, her voice hushed. “The lab results are back, and with what they say, plus evidence collected at the scene and some very revealing video...I think we may have a lead on who your killer is!”

  The two detectives jumped out of their chairs to follow Gonzales to the lab, when a uniformed cop came back and stopped them in their tracks. “Gramble, thought you’d want to hear it immediately, Becca Rogers’ catering manager just called in and reported her boss missing.”

  The grizzled detective looked at his young partner. “Get on it Reynolds, and let me know when you have something.” Lance Reynolds was out the door before his partner finished the sentence. “Gonzales, let’s see what you’ve got, pronto!”

  Chapter 9

  Becca was sipping a cup of coffee, her head throbbing from the previous night’s two glasses of wine, when Katie’s number popped up on her ringing phone.

  “Morning, Katie,” she answered wearily.

  “Hey Becca,” her friend responded, “I’m glad I caught you before you headed in to the office this morning. “You might want to wear jeans today. There was a note taped on the front door from our lobster guy, he wants you to meet him out at the trawler for some reason, before he cruises out this morning.”

  “That’s odd,” she mused. “Joey doesn’t usually trawl on Tuesdays. I hope everything is okay.”

  “Yeah, the note didn’t say what he wanted, other than that he needed you to come down to the boat to meet with him.”

  “Which is also odd, because he usually comes in when he needs to talk. Can you check my calendar? I thought I was supposed to meet with him today to go over our order for next month,” Becca frowned.

  “Sure, hold on...yep, there it is, Joey at 3:00 today,” Katie confirmed.

  “Well, I guess something must’ve come up for him this afternoon,” she replied. Thankfully her schedule was flexible enough this morning that a trip to the marina wouldn’t put her too far behind. “Alright, I’ll head out there in a bit. Hopefully it won’t take too long, but just be prepared to handle everything that pops up between now and lunch, just in case.”

  “No problem, boss lady, will do,” Katie replied, cheerful as ever. “Oh, and what gives with the papers all over the place in your office? Were you looking for something last night after I left?”

  “Papers all over the place? What are you talking about Katie? You know my desk is always cleared before I leave for the night,” Becca was mystified.

  There was a brief pause before her friend responded. “Yeah, I thought it was kind of weird, and I was going through the recent files to send out final invoices and I couldn’t find a couple of them, so I figured maybe you had been searching high and low for them. Do you happen to have any files with you?” she asked.

  “Katie...which files are missing?” Becca asked, her heart in her throat.

  “Let me look at my list again...ah, here we go,” she could hear Katie shuffling papers on her end. “The missing ones are Thornton and Wycliff.”

  “Okay, I’ll look for them later,” she responded, knowing that she’d be making yet another trip to the police station, whether she wanted to or not. Something fishy was clearly going on. “I’ll have my cell with me, just text if you need anything, Katie.”

  “Will do,” Katie rang off.

  **

  Becca drove toward the marina shivering a bit in the early morning fog, despite her jeans and thick, cable-knit fisherman’s sweater. Parking her car in the visitor lot, she strode briskly toward the pier where Joey docked his trawler, and was a bit surprised to see a teenager sitting on the grey wooden slats of the pier in front of the boat. She smiled as she approached the young man, thinking that he must be one of the lobster man’s new hires.

  “Hi there,” she greeted the youth. “Is Joey around?”

  The young man looked unusually nervous and uncomfortable, and his response sounded as though it had been rehearsed. “He...umm...he said to meet him on a boat called the Sea Glass, across the harbor where the sailboats and stuff are, cuz he has to do some repairs on the Sea Glass.”

  “Okay,” Becca answered, confused as to why Joey would ask her to come to his boat and then go off to do something else. She was so lost in her own thoughts, that she didn’t see the youth get up and walk away after talking with her, counting a handful of bills. Figuring that someone else must’ve had an emergency and Joey stepped in to see if he could help, she got back into her car, gripped with indecision. She could either go find Joey on the Sea Glass and hope that he wasn’t too busy to talk to her, or she could go to the office and hope that he dropped by when he was done. In a quandary, she decided to try calling him, but of course he didn’t answ
er his phone. Sighing, she decided to at least drop by the Sea Glass to see if he had time to talk with her. If not, at least they could make other arrangements to get together later in the day.

  The yacht yard was deserted when she arrived, with not a soul in sight, the wealthy boaters preferred much warmer weather. She scanned the names of boats that ranged from beautiful to utterly extravagant, wondering what it must be like to have such lovely toys at one’s disposal. She spotted a medium-sized yacht with the words ‘Sea Glass’ scripted in Caribbean blue on the side, and carefully made her way down the long wooden dock toward it. She tucked her cell phone into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled her heavy sweater down over it, so that there would be no possibility of it falling into the water.

  “Joey?” she called out when she reached the boat. “Hello?”

  Not hearing a response, she stepped gingerly aboard, hoping that she didn’t run into a disgruntled owner. Thinking that she had heard a faint voice, she climbed the stairs and entered the bridge.

  “Joey?” she called again, squinting in the dark interior.

  “Nope, not Joey,” a familiar voice said darkly, “not even close.” Strong hands grabbed Becca roughly from behind, pinning her arms to her sides and a cloth was placed over her mouth and nose, causing her to fall into a faint.

  **

  Katie was beginning to worry. It was nearly three o’clock and Becca still hadn’t come to the office, nor was she answering her phone. It just wasn’t like her to stay out of touch for so long. She had just put down the phone after trying to reach her for the 5th time at least, when the front door in the reception opened.

  “Hi Katie,” Joey Malone, their lobster supplier greeted her cheerfully. “I have a 3:00 with Becca today, I’m a little early I know, but, is she ready for me?”

  Katie stared at the wizened fisherman in growing horror. “Didn’t you already meet with her this morning?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “No, our appointment is for 3:00, I’ve been at the house all day doing paperwork, why?”