Tropical Punch Killer Page 9

  “Why would I be?” he glanced at her briefly, quirking an eyebrow.

  “Seriously?” Fiona stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be that out of touch. I mean, I know you live in your own little weird world of death and all, but do you read the newspaper at all?”

  “Definitely not,” was the stoic reply.

  “Why?” Fiona frowned.

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Do you ever answer a direct question?” she sighed.

  “Not if I can help it. I avoid people who ask them,” he shot her a look.

  “Today is Election Day. Are you planning to vote?” she demanded.

  “No.”

  “Why not? It’s your civic duty.”

  “I seldom indulge in societal mandates.”

  “So you don’t vote, simply because everyone thinks you should?” Fiona translated.

  “That, and I have a profound loathing for all things political.”

  “Clearly,” she muttered. “But you actually have a personal stake in this election.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do, Timothy Eckels. Your job is on the line. I’ve been busting my tail, campaigning for you, giving speeches on your behalf, schmoozing with Council members at the country club, shaking hands and kissing babies so that you can keep doing the awesome work that you do, so you darn sure better believe that you have a personal stake in this, mister!” Fiona blurted, incensed at Tim’s refusal to face reality.

  “You did what?” his tone was ominous and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

  “You heard me. I knocked myself out for you, on top of keeping up with my work at the mortuary and the morgue,” her fury was barely in check.

  “I never asked you to do that. I told you that I was considering relocation,” the muscles in his jaw flexed.

  “You ingrate,” Fiona hissed. “I did the work so that you didn’t have to. I tried my best to give you a chance to keep the job that you wanted, and you brush it off like it was nothing. I haven’t slept, I’ve spent every bit of my spare time strategizing and writing emails to the right people and paying for campaign costs out of my pocket and you dismiss it like it was nothing,” she trembled, willing herself not to cry.

  “Why?” was the quiet response.

  “Because I may just be the only person in this world who sees who you are behind that mask of indifference that you wear every day. I’m probably the only woman who goes to sleep at night with you on my mind, and who wakes up every morning counting the minutes until I get to see you.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” there was more than a tinge of regret in his voice.

  “Stop the car!” Fiona shouted.

  She had to get out of there before the tears came.

  “What?” Tim was startled.

  “You heard me, I said STOP THE CAR!” she commanded, holding on to her emotions by a rapidly fraying thread. “Stop it right now, or I swear, I’ll jump out while you’re driving,” she threatened, the tears imminent.

  “Fiona,” Tim began.

  “I mean it,” she barked, staring out the window, her hand on the door handle.

  “Okay, okay, hold on,” Tim sighed, exasperated.

  He pulled over to the curb and she practically leapt from the vehicle, fumbling momentarily with the seat belt in her haste.

  “This will make you late,” he commented.

  “You’ll be lucky if I show up at all, Mr. Eckels,” Fiona growled, taking off down the sidewalk.

  Tim stared after her for several seconds before shaking his head and pulling back out into traffic. There was a job to be done, at least until the election results were in, and someone had to do it.

  **

  Fiona marched to the Methodist Church downtown and cast her vote. She briefly considered voting against her boss, but ultimately decided that she had worked much too hard to undermine his chances now. Until the very end, she would be doing all that she could to win the election. It wasn’t political anymore, it was personal. Knowing that she’d probably be fired now anyway, she at least owed it to Calgon County to give them the best possible coroner, hoping against hope that Tim would actually accept the job if he won. She’d look awfully foolish if he didn’t.

  Longing for comfort and companionship, she somehow wound up standing on the sidewalk in front of Cupcakes in Paradise, deciding that a cupcake served up with a heaping helping of southern hospitality was just what she needed. Taking a breath, she opened the door and walked in, immediately enveloped by sweet scents and sweeter company.

  “Oh darlin’, what’s wrong?” Missy came around the counter and wrapped Fiona in an embrace the moment that she walked in the door. Fiona, who had been trying so hard to be strong, dissolved in tears.

  “That’s it, just let it out,” Missy held her tight as she sobbed.

  When the initial storm of tears had passed, and her sobs turned into hitching hiccups as she tried to regain control, Missy led the distraught young woman to a table and sat her down.

  Wiping the tears from Fiona’s pale cheeks, Missy gave her a reassuring smile.

  “You sit right here for a minute. I’m going to go get you a cupcake and a cup of tea, and you’re going to tell me all about it, okay?”

  “I’m sorry,” Fiona began, blushing.

  “Don’t you dare apologize, sweetie. I’ll be right back.”

  When Missy got back to the kitchen, Beulah, who had overheard the exchange, had already prepared a tray and was carrying it out to the eating area.

  “I’ll watch the counter for you, Miss Missy,” Beulah bustled past with the tray. “You take care of your friend.”

  “Thank you Beulah,” Missy whispered.

  Once she sat across from Fiona, who had touched neither the cupcake, nor the tea, she patted the young woman’s hand.

  “Whatever it is, it’s not the end of the world,” Missy promised. “Out with it, young lady, you’ll feel better. And, my feelings will be incredibly hurt if you don’t at least take a bite of this cupcake,” she pushed the plate toward Fiona, who swiped a fingertip through the icing and licked it.

  “It’s good,” she said sadly.

  “Guy problems?” Missy guessed.

  Fiona stared at her. “Why do I like him? He’s the most difficult man ever,” she shook her head.

  “Honey, I think every woman who’s ever been in love has said that at one time or another,” Missy chuckled.

  “Yes, but…he’s an entirely different type of difficult. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, it’s clear that I mean nothing to him,” Fiona sucked another blob of frosting from her fingertip.

  “What makes you say that?” Missy asked, glad to see her sipping at her tea.

  “I’ve been hinting and inviting and throwing myself at him for months and he’s just so…” she trailed off.

  “Shy?” Missy guessed.

  “Resistant,” Fiona corrected. “It’s like he doesn’t respond at all.”

  “Well, sometimes when what we’re doing isn’t working, it helps to do the opposite,” Missy suggested.

  “What do you mean?” Fiona was actually so interested in what Missy was saying that she took a bite of cupcake without even realizing it.

  “If you’re trying too hard, maybe you should stop trying.”

  “I’ve been doing that. I’ve been pretty cold to him for a while now,” Fiona replied, her mouth full.

  “What about killing him with kindness?”

  “Huh?” Fiona took another huge bite, her skipped breakfast catching up with her.

  “I’m assuming that you’re talking about Timothy Eckels, right?”

  “Mmhmm,” Fiona nodded, her mouth too full to speak.

  “Do you want another cupcake, honey?” Missy was amused.

  “Yef pleeth,” Fiona nodded again.

  Missy went to the cupcake case and selected one, bringing it back to the table.

  “Here you go. You look like a woman who needs double chocolate,�
� she grinned. “Now, if you’ve tried being aggressive, and you’ve tried being aloof, maybe it’s time to be sweet, but indifferent,” she suggested.

  Fiona snickered, nearly choking on her cupcake. Once she’d washed her massive bite down with a few sips of tea, she could speak again.

  “What?” Missy asked, baffled at her reaction.

  “I just accused him of being indifferent this morning, and you’re telling me that’s what I need to do.”

  “Well, his indifference certainly holds your interest, now doesn’t it?” Missy gave her a knowing smile.

  The light dawned. “You’re right,” Fiona’s eyes widened. “I’ve been too available. I should be myself, but pretend that I’m not interested in him in any way. Just treat him professionally,” she nodded slowly.

  “Exactly,” Missy grinned as Fiona started in on her second cupcake.

  “I’m feeling so much better, thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome, darlin’,”

  “What if being a professional doesn’t catch his attention either?” she put the cupcake down.

  “Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be. If you’ve tried everything that you know to try, and he still doesn’t want to participate, you just have to accept it. You’re a strong, capable young woman. A man should enhance your life, not complicate it. Instead of wondering what you need to do to catch his attention, maybe you should be thinking in terms of whether or not he’ll fit in with your goals and dreams. Just give it some thought. You love your job, and there’s no reason that you can’t do it well, even if Tim doesn’t return your affections. Focus on the work and see what happens.”

  “That’s just what I needed to hear,” Fiona admitted. “How do you know all of this stuff?”

  “I’m older for one thing,” Missy chuckled. “And I was single for a long time. I didn’t want to be in a relationship because I was afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of getting hurt. I was lucky and found someone who made it pretty darn easy for me to take a chance. Relationships take effort, but when they become a chore, you have to ask yourself if you’re in the right relationship. Sounds like that may be what’s happening to you.”

  Fiona nodded. “I do love my work. I’m going to focus on the work and still be positive in my work relationship with Tim. I’ll leave it at that, and see what he does with it. It may be a moot point anyway, if he loses the election. I don’t know if he’ll stay in town just for the mortuary.”

  “I did my part. I voted for him this morning,” Missy smiled.

  “Me too. I don’t know what I’ll do if he leaves,” Fiona murmured.

  “You’ll carry on, girl. That’s all we can do.”

  **

  Fiona walked into the mortuary, her head held high. She felt loads better after talking with Missy, and had been sent on her way with cupcakes to spare. Tim was down in the lower level, in the midst of embalming a customer who had been brought in yesterday, so she wouldn’t have to deal with him for a while. He never interrupted his process, and resented anyone else who did.

  She ordered caskets, spoke with a florist, and made arrangements with the family of the deceased by phone, then began to tackle the inventory of chemical compounds that she needed to order. Notepad in hand, she was up on a stepladder checking quantities of in-stock items, when the office phone, which she’d placed in the pocket of her lab coat, rang, startling her.

  Hands trembling, she quickly scurried down the ladder and her heart leaped to her throat when she saw who was calling. It was the Election Commission.

  “Eckels’ Mortuary, Fiona McCamish speaking,” she managed to keep her voice steady. “Certainly, please hold.”

  She tapped the button to place the call on hold and carried the phone down the stairs, taking deep breaths to steady herself for interacting with Tim.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she began, waiting for his usual “then don’t” comeback, but when he merely kept working, she continued. “The Election Commission is on hold for you,” she held up the phone.

  “Can’t you handle it?” Tim asked, still not looking at her.

  “I tried. They want to speak directly with you,” she kept her voice steady and neutral.

  Tim sighed. “Take a message please.”

  “Are you actually going to call them back?” the question rolled out before she could stop it, and she mentally kicked herself.

  “Just take the message.”

  “Certainly,” she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding with a shrill scream. Her boss could intentionally be throwing away the job that he loved.

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * *

  Spencer was more than a bit surprised to find Mattie, Janssen, and a very girly-looking Spike sitting on his front porch when he came home for lunch. Mattie and Janssen were laughing, and Spike capered about, looking quite pleased with herself.

  “What did you guys fix for lunch?” he asked, scooping up Spike and rubbing between her ears. “Wow, she smells like cookies,” he commented.

  “Is it lunch time already?” Mattie looked at her watch, astonished. “It feels like I just got here.”

  “Where are the girls?” Spencer asked, setting Spike back down.

  “Today is Kumar’s last day as nanny. Missy and Echo will officially let me resume my duties tomorrow, so I’m taking it easy today.”

  “I see that,” Spencer nodded.

  “She’s teaching Spike to do tricks,” Janssen commented.

  “Yep, and she’s a smart little girl,” Mattie grinned. “Hey, we’re going to go to a movie tonight, do you want to go?” she asked.

  Spencer’s eyebrows shot skyward momentarily, but he recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I can’t remember the last time I went to a movie. Should we do dinner somewhere first?”

  “I don’t know if I can take that much civilization,” Janssen grimaced.

  “Oh come on, tough guy. It’s food, how bad can it be?” Mattie teased.

  “Fine, whatever, but I’m not dressing up,” he warned.

  Spencer’s phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.

  “Well, hopefully this won’t throw our plans off, but I’ve gotta run.”

  “Need backup?” Janssen sat up.

  “Nah, we should be good. I know Chas is wanting to get you back in the field soon though,” Spencer called over his shoulder as he trotted across the lawn.

  “I’m ready,” Janssen replied.

  “So, what did you two do in the military, anyway?” Mattie asked.

  “It’s a long story,” was the vague reply.

  **

  Chas’ car was waiting in the circular drive when Spencer got to the main house, so he hopped into the passenger seat.

  “What have we got?” he asked, buckling in as Chas pulled out of the drive.

  “A suspect, finally,” Chas sounded relieved. “And there’s plenty of evidence backing us up.”

  “The daughter?” Spencer guessed.

  “That’s the direction that I was leaning, until I spoke to Marcella Graham.”

  “Chooch’s mother?”

  “Yep.”

  Chas related his conversation with the kindly older woman and outlined his activities since he met with her.

  “So Chooch’s bloody jeans with the hole in them were in Marcella’s trash can?”

  “Along with his bloody shirt and a towel that he’d used to clean up with.”

  “What led you in that direction?”

  “When I talked to Greg McGinty, he said that Chooch made a habit of getting drunk and knocking on doors to find somewhere to crash for the night. Based upon the timeline, if Ralph Moyer, Chet’s coworker, was telling the truth, Ralph went over and sold Chet some weed, then left his house around four. Ralph said that when he left, the blankets and pillows that were at the scene weren’t on the couch. Shortly after Ralph left, when Chet was probably feeling pretty mellow, Chooch came knocking, and even though Chet had thrown him out a couple of weeks
earlier, he let him in to sleep on the couch. He probably stayed in his recliner to keep an eye on Chooch to make sure he didn’t try to go near Leslie, who was asleep in the bedroom.”

  “Makes sense so far,” Spencer nodded.

  “Athena told one of the officers on site that there was normally a hammer on top of the fridge, that’s where Chet kept it. The hammer was missing and was eventually found in the culvert between the Holman house and Chooch’s mother’s house.”

  “So the killer had to be someone who knew that the hammer would be there,” Spencer pieced it together.

  “Exactly. So Chooch waited for Chet to fall asleep, then attacked him from behind, while he slept in the recliner.”

  “That’s consistent with the Coroner’s report,” Spencer nodded.

  “He wasn’t quite done killing Chet yet, when Leslie woke up and came into the living room. When Chooch saw her, he set the hammer on the placemat on the dining room table, and chased her down, tackling her in the dining room. She tried to get away and he grabbed her by the ankle, then killed her right there. It was probably right around then that Athena started to wake up, so he panicked and left Leslie dead and Chet dying in his chair. He ran from the house, tossed the hammer in a culvert and went to his mother’s,” Chas explained.

  “Why didn’t his mother say anything?”

  “She didn’t let him in, so she had no idea that he came to her back door covered in blood. He threw his clothes in her trash can, and happened to get lucky because one of Marcella’s neighbors hadn’t taken their clothes in from the clothesline. He used the hose to clean off, dried with the neighbor’s towel, then stole some clothing to put on. The forensics team is testing Marcella’s patio and back door for blood stains as we speak, and the neighbor gave a description of the clothing that was missing.”

  “So, where are we headed?”

  “First we’re going to check the haunted camper, and if he’s not there, we’ll go to his dad’s abandoned cabin in Copeland County.”

  **

  The dilapidated camper was easy enough to break into, and once inside, Chas and Spencer found the neighbor’s missing clothing in it. They also found a pair of brown work boots with what looked like blood stains on them. After calling in a patrol car to secure the camper, the duo headed for Copeland County, hoping that Chooch hadn’t gone elsewhere.