Death, Limes and Videotape: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 7 Page 6

  “He got what he deserved,” he replied ominously.

  “Who…what are you talking about?” Marilyn eyed him suspiciously. “Who got what he deserved?”

  “She needed help and he left her, then he got what he deserved,” her neighbor repeated, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his thick glasses as her stomach twisted with dread.

  “Are you talking about Jace Chesterton? The young man in the RV? Do you know what happened to him?” she asked rapid-fire questions, forgetting to approach her easily-spooked neighbor carefully.

  A slow, chilling smile spread across Tim’s face at her question, and he peered at her with the dreadful grin, his eyes like stone.

  “It was only a matter of time,” he whispered, still smiling.

  Marilyn thought that her heart might pound right out of her chest. “Tim,” she began gently. “Did you see something? Do you know who killed Jace? It would really help me out if you did, because the police think that I might have done it,” she explained.

  He tilted his head to the side, and pushed the horn-rimmed spectacles up higher on his nose, the smile drifting from his face.

  “He shouldn’t have left her,” he shook his head and turned to go.

  “Tim, wait!” Marilyn cried out, desperate to find out what he knew, but he had already slipped through the tree line and into his own yard. She sighed audibly, incredibly frustrated with her strange neighbor.

  **

  “Seriously, Mom? No way,” Tiara shook her head. “I’m not going over there. That dude is a psycho,” she insisted.

  “Oh, let’s not be dramatic,” Marilyn advised, rolling her eyes. “He may be able to help take the suspicion off of me, and point us toward Jace’s actual killer,” she reasoned. “Apparently Tim saw Jace basically throw you out of the RV and leave you laying in the yard, not caring how sick you were.”

  “I don’t see how him seeing that would be helpful at all,” she muttered sullenly, wondering what the strange little man must think of her.

  “It’s worth the time to go talk to him. He seems to be oddly protective of you and he may have seen something. For all we know, someone could have been stalking Jace when he dropped you off. You don’t know how to jimmy a door to break into the house, but clearly someone did. What if the person who helped you get inside is the same person who killed Jace?” she demanded, not budging.

  “What if the person who broke into the house and killed Jace is your psycho neighbor?” Tiara challenged. “Do you really want to send me into the lair of a murderer?”

  Marilyn shook her head. “The lair? Really? I think you’ve been watching too many horror movies,” she observed dryly. “It won’t take but a minute, and I’ll be on the front porch watching you the whole time.”

  Realizing that resistance was futile, and hoping that one good deed might make up for the poor decision-making that she’d engaged in the past couple of weeks, Tiara reluctantly agreed to go talk to Tim Eckels to see if she could find out what, if anything, he knew.

  “Fine,” she gave an exaggerated sigh. “But keep your phone with you in case I need to be rescued,” she groused.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine, but yes, I’ll have my phone with me while I’m standing on the porch watching you,” her mother assured her.

  They went out onto the front porch and Marilyn watched her daughter trudge begrudgingly across the yard, down the driveway and over to the cute little cottage that Tim was renting from her friend Madge, who had moved to California.

  Chapter 15

  Tiara prided herself on being too strong and secure to be intimidated by most people and situations, but Tim Eckels was not “most people.” He freaked her out – always had. She’d told him off on occasion, particularly when she had mistakenly believed that he was stalking Kelcie because she had been given the job that he wanted, but mostly she kept her distance from the strange man who lived in the house next to her mother, because frankly, she found him so odd as to be disturbing. So it was with great trepidation that she trudged from her mother’s yard over to his, dreading the unknown. Marilyn had devoted her life to providing for her daughter, and for that reason alone, the beautiful blonde prepared to face the reaper.

  She rung the bell and waited, her heart thumping, hearing nothing. His front porch looked like any other on the block, with decking painted to match the shutters and trim, a neatly kept stucco exterior, and a healthy fern hanging on a hook by the door. Funny, he never struck her as the nurturing gardener type, but his lawn and plants were healthy and precisely manicured. For some reason that realization gave her a chill, and she turned to trot back down the front steps, relieved that he hadn’t answered. She was almost to the top step when the door opened behind her.

  “Hello,” she heard Tim’s mild, flat voice say, startling her.

  “Oh! Uh…hi,” she stammered, turning back around and walking to the door where he stood with an expectant look on his face. “I just…umm,” she was suddenly at a loss for words. Tim merely blinked at her with his head tilted to one side.

  She took a breath, gathering herself, and tried again. “Okay, so this is really silly and I hate to bother you, but my mom seems to think that you might know something about what happened to me the night that I was…uh…sick, and I just wanted to talk to you about that,” she blurted out, trying not to twist her hand nervously in front of her.

  “Okay,” he nodded, the expression on his face revealing nothing. “Won’t you come in?” he asked, stepping back to allow her to pass.

  Tiara gulped. “Uh…I…umm…come in?” she squeaked.

  “Please,” he nodded again, blinking at her.

  Not knowing how to decline without sounding incredibly rude and suspicious, she threw caution to the winds and followed the strange man inside. If the outside of his house was quite typically Key West in style and substance, the interior was anything but, looking much like the inside of a ski lodge. The walls and ceiling were painted in a forest green color, the rooms dimly lit, and the furnishings were sparse, looking like they’d perhaps been relics of his time in the funeral industry, but that was the least disturbing feature of Tim’s décor. On almost every available surface rested perfectly preserved house pets. Cats, dogs, bunnies, even guinea pigs, stared into eternity with sightless eyes, making Tiara shudder as she passed through a gauntlet of them in the hallway that led to the living room.

  Apparently, Tim had been in the midst of making a Coconut Cream pie when she had rung his doorbell, and he wanted to continue working on it while they chatted. He indicated a hobnailed bar stool pulled up to the breakfast bar for her to sit on, and went back to his pie preparations.

  “Would you like some iced tea?” he asked, measuring some coconut milk and pouring it into a bowl.

  “Umm…yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” Tiara replied, weirded out by the fact that, in his own strange house, he seemed almost normal. Almost. He handed her a glass of tea that actually turned out to be quite tasty, and she thanked him for it, secretly hoping that he hadn’t just poisoned her.

  “Do you make a lot of desserts?” she asked politely, trying to stay on his good side, and not wanting to just dive into the touchy subject of Jace Chesterton.

  “Yes, I do. That’s why your mother should have hired me,” he said, without sounding bitter. “My grandmother taught me quite a bit about cooking and baking.”

  “You two must’ve been very close,” she commented, sipping the cool refreshing tea, still wondering if it was going to be the death of her.

  “She raised me,” he responded simply, giving Tiara the impression that he’d said all that he needed to say about that subject.

  “You do taxidermy?” she dared to ask, looking around.

  “Clearly,” he replied.

  “Where did they all come from?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  He put down his mixing spoon and fixed his gaze upon her. A tiny finger of fear tickled the base of her spine as he stared for a moment before replying.


  “I’m sure you have the Internet, and I’m sure you’ve searched for my name by now. You and your mother strike me as the type of women who would do such things,” he pursed his lips briefly. “So, you surely know about the charges of animal cruelty that were brought against me. Would you like to hear about the real story?” he asked mildly.

  “I…uh…I’m not sure, I mean, you don’t have to…” Tiara wasn’t certain how to respond, wanting to hear the story, but afraid of what he might say.

  He picked up his spoon again, stirring while he spoke, a faraway look in his eye.

  “I was a small-town mortician. I knew every family in town because I’d seen them in their times of grief. It didn’t make me a popular person, I was just the guy that everyone had to go see when the worst thing in life happened,” he shrugged, focusing on his pie filling. Tiara leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbow on the table while she took a big gulp of tea.

  “More?” he asked, noting the ever-dropping level in her glass.

  “Please,” she nodded, chomping at the bit for him to continue. He took his time refilling the glass, then went back to his pie making and his story.

  “The town veterinarian was a boy from the city who thought he could bless our little community by imposing his will upon us poor town folk,” the corner of his lip twitched downward.

  “What did he try to do?” Tiara asked, engrossed in the tale already.

  “He refused to euthanize pets, no matter how much they suffered. Folks knew that I had access to certain chemicals that would take care of the job quite humanely, so, what the fancy doc didn’t have the stomach to do, I did. The animals didn’t have to suffer, and the owners didn’t have to watch them suffer. Taxidermy had been a hobby of mine for years – it just seems wasteful to dispose of such beauty when an animal’s soul leaves their body,” he mused. “So, when owners came in and asked me to relieve their pet’s suffering, I’d ask if they wanted to keep the body preserved. If they did, I did it free of charge for them, if they didn’t, I asked if I could have it.”

  “Well…that doesn’t sound so bad,” Tiara was puzzled.

  “It wasn’t. It was a good solution for all concerned…except for the young vet who made his money trying to keep terminally ill and suffering animals alive,” he grimaced, the most emotion she’d ever seen him show.

  “So the reason that the vet wouldn’t euthanize the suffering pets is because he made more money by continuing to treat them?” the young woman was sickened at the thought. “That’s unethical.”

  “Indeed it is, young lady,” he nodded sadly. “And I said so, to his face. Well, that made him angry, and he drummed up some phony “pet owners” who said that their animal had gone missing and that I’d stolen and killed their pets so that I could make ornaments out of them,” he finished with a sigh.

  “That’s awful,” Tiara gazed at the strange neighbor in an entirely new light. “So, what happened? I saw that the charges were dropped.”

  “Yes, they were. You see, whenever I took an animal in and relieved its pain, with the owner’s permission, I had them sign a form that had a registration number on it. I tattooed the number onto their pet after it had passed, and that way I had records of who had belonged to whom. Those records were what exonerated me after that veterinarian had me charged with animal cruelty. The people who had lied in court were charged with perjury and my name was cleared.”

  “So everything turned out okay in the end then,” Tiara commented, relieved for him.

  “It may sound like it, but that was definitely not the case. People started looking at me strangely, calling me Dr. Death behind my back. That didn’t bother me much, I’d always been more comfortable around the dead than the living, but then another funeral parlor opened up in a nearby town, and I began losing business,” he shook his head remembering.

  “So, what did you do?” Tiara was so into his story that she’d forgotten her fear of him, mostly, and had pushed her reason for coming over to the back of her mind.

  “Well, the final straw came when one of my workers was paid by the other funeral home to not embalm one particular body. They already had a plan to do that periodically, and then find reasons to exhume the bodies so that I’d get “caught” and put out of business. This just happened to be one of those one in a million cases where the coroner pronounced someone deceased, verified that all bodily functions had ceased, and the person just came back.”

  “Like a zombie,” Tiara breathed, her eyes wide.

  “Except that they were fully aware and functional when that casket was opened. The family sued, and even when the boy from my office confessed to being paid off to not embalm the body, I thought it best to just leave town forever. That was the only time I’d ever had anybody come back on me, and it still gives me nightmares,” he blinked behind his glasses, lost in memories. “So that’s how an innocent mortician gets made out to be something that he’s not…and never was,” he finished, sliding his assembled pie into the oven.

  “That’s so awful, Mr. Eckels,” the compassionate young woman murmured. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

  “Well, I…” Tim began, when suddenly a fierce pounding rattled his front door in its frame. He and Tiara exchanged a puzzled glance before he strode down the hall to answer it.

  “Where is she?” Marilyn’s voice reached her daughter’s ears. “I demand that you…” she began, violating her neighbor’s personal space.

  “Mom! I’m right here, geez,” Tiara called out, embarrassed.

  “Oh…okay, I just….” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. She’d come over prepared for battle, and walked into a perfectly nice visit between neighbors.

  “I’ve gotta go, Mr. Eckels, thanks for talking with me,” Tiara smiled and stuck out her hand. He shook it gingerly.

  “It was my pleasure,” he said, having reverted back to his flat affect. “Would you like a piece of coconut pie when it’s done?”

  “Yeah, I’d like that,” she nodded, heading for the door. “Have a good evening.”

  “I already have.”

  Chapter 16

  “Wow, Mom, did you really have to beat his door down like that? How embarrassing,” Tiara hissed in a low voice as her mother walked her back across the lawn.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who was so scared to go over there in the first place. You were gone long enough for him to have dismembered you and buried the pieces in his basement for crying out loud,” she retorted.

  “Gross,” her daughter made a face. “He was telling me about his life while he made a Coconut Cream pie from his grandmother’s recipe, and he makes great iced tea too, by the way,” she explained.

  “The man who can’t put more than five words together in a sentence was telling you about his life?” Marilyn was astonished. “Wait…did you even ask him about what he saw when Jace Chesterton dropped you off?” she demanded.

  “Well, I would have if you hadn’t come busting in like you were raiding the place,” Tiara shot back. “I knew that if I went in there and just started badgering him with questions, he probably would’ve thrown me out or something, so I was nice and had a conversation and we didn’t get around to that before you interrupted us,” she explained, upset that her mother was frustrated with her, when actually, she had prevented her daughter from accomplishing the goal of finding out information about Jace.

  “Fine,” Marilyn sighed. “I guess you’ll just have to go back tomorrow, if you feel safe.”

  “Of course I feel safe, I just heard a good portion of his life story, but wouldn’t it make more sense if I just talked to him when he brings over my pie?” Tiara raised her eyebrows at her mother.

  She hadn’t thought of that. “Yes, of course, that makes sense,” she nodded, feeling more than a bit guilty about having judged her neighbor unfairly. She only hoped that her daughter hadn’t been fooled by someone who was potentially dangerous.

  Once they were back inside, Tiara tune
d out, secretly doing another Internet search on Tim Eckels, and Marilyn made a rich, creamy fettuccini alfredo for their dinner, complete with garlic bread and a salad to start.

  “Wow, what’s the occasion?” her daughter asked, coming downstairs and seeing the dining room table elegantly set with their feast.

  Her mother came over and swept her into a spontaneous hug. “Things have been a little rough around here lately, and I just don’t ever want us to forget to take the time to appreciate how great our lives actually are, even with the challenges that are thrown our way. You’re my precious girl and I just wanted to spoil the daylights out of you tonight to show you how much I love you and how proud I am of you,” she explained, her eyes moist.

  “I’m afraid I haven’t given you very many reasons to be proud lately,” Tiara replied, her face flooding with shame.

  “You listen to me, young lady,” Marilyn ordered, taking her daughters chin in her hand and making her look up. “I am proud of who you are as a human being, and of all of the things you’ve accomplished and of the way that you take life by the tail and swing it around when you need to,” she grinned. “I wish that I’d had half your gumption and determination when I was your age,” she confessed. “Everybody makes mistakes, sweetie. The smart ones learn from them and move on – you’re one of the smart ones…so let it go, okay?”

  Tiara nodded, grateful for her mother’s love and support, and took her place at the table. As if by unspoken agreement, there was no negative talk during dinner, just a whole lot of fun and nonsense as mother and daughter talked about TV shows, wacky recipes that they’d like to try and favorite childhood Halloween costumes. They sat back, stuffed after finishing what they could of the very large meal, and talked until the doorbell rang. Thinking that it was most likely Tim, bringing her a slice of Coconut Cream pie, Tiara jumped up and went to answer it, returning just a few moments later.

  “It’s Detective Cortland,” she said, responding to Marilyn’s questioning look. Her mother paused for a moment, trying to decide whether she’d grant an audience to someone who had been ignoring her calls and texts for the past few days.