My chat with Star had given the investigation the boost I needed more than anything. While the other suspects would remain on my list until I could rule them out, experience had taught me that Zoe had the kind of motivation that was a lot stronger than revenge.
After all, the saying Money is the root of all evil was a cliché for a reason. Because often it was true.
By the time my head hit the pillow that night, immediately followed by Ursi curling up at the foot of the bed, I had a solid ranking for my suspects. Zoe was at the top. O’Malley and Fedorov were next. Until I could rule him out, Jack followed. Bobcat rounded out the list. After the phone call with Star, I didn’t consider him a serious candidate, but he did have some long-held secrets.
Maybe one of those secrets included a motivation for murder.
The next morning, I got to put murder-related thoughts aside for a while. My longest-tenured client, Malcolm Blackstone, had a new book out. He had a long string of bestsellers, going back to when my dad was his agent. This latest release, Red Moon Rising, was on its way to joining the others.
Calypso would handle public posting about the book. That left me to send out a congratulatory message on the agency’s Facebook page. I was lucky to have Malcolm as a client. Simply put, the Cobb Literary Agency would not have survived the transition from my father to me if not for Malcolm. He was a kind man and a brilliant writer. For me, it was the best of both worlds.
The revenue his sales generated wasn’t too shabby, either, and contributed a great deal to my dream lifestyle.
I got caught up on my email over a second cup of coffee, then headed for the shower. Intent on keeping the positive vibe going, I was going to treat myself to brunch at the Brown County Diner. While I ate, I’d work on edits to a manuscript that was due back to a client by the end of the week. It was my final work project as a single woman.
Rushing Creek’s part-time mayor and full-time restaurant owner, Angela Miller, greeted me when I stepped inside.
“Allie, my dear.” She gave me a hug. “It feels like it’s been forever since I last saw you.”
“Um, it was only last Saturday, Angela.”
With a laugh, she slipped her arm through mine and guided me to a booth by the window. “Four days is an awfully long time in the restaurant biz. We’ve talked about this. You’re supposed to come here every other day. It helps business when I tell people the legendary Kickboxing Crusader is a regular.”
“And you know I would if my budget allowed for it.” It was true. I loved Angela’s breakfast menu as much as I adored Big Al’s burgers and fries. In a perfect world, I’d go to the diner for breakfast or lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’d hit up Big Al’s on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And have dinner at one of Rachel’s restaurants every night of the week. The practical Midwesterner in me wouldn’t allow that, though. Instead, I limited my dining out to three or four meals a week. And that was still pretty extravagant, I had to admit.
She gave me a few moments to get settled, then placed a menu in front of me. “If Mr. Blackstone’s new book sells as well as his other ones, maybe that budget will allow you some more freedom to support your favorite breakfast spot.”
“Cheers to that.”
While I perused the menu, Angela returned with a pot of coffee. The woman knew me well. She was like a second mother to me, in fact.
Which was why I could tell from the way she kept running a finger over an eyebrow that she wanted to talk to me about something. “Something on your mind?”
She let out a little laugh, then took a seat across from me. “Guilty as charged. I wanted to see how wedding prep is going. Is there anything you need?”
“Not really. I’ve got a few loose threads to tie up for the reception, but really, we’re pretty much all set. How about you?”
“Working on my remarks. Other than that, I’m good. I’m planning on being there at noon. I want to be available if anything comes up at the last minute.”
Angela had been unable to hide her shock when Brent and I asked her to marry us. The shock turned to giddiness when I assured her my devout Catholic mother wasn’t upset about my choice not to get married in a church. The fact that we’d chosen to get hitched at the gazebo in Winchester-Cobb Memorial Park had minimized her complaints.
“I appreciate it. Looking forward to everyone having a good time.” I returned the menu to her. “How about the special with a side of fresh fruit?”
While I stirred some creamer into my coffee, I looked around. Things got quiet around the diner during the midmorning hours. The breakfast crowd had departed to get to work. The lunch crowd wouldn’t arrive for another hour or so. On this Wednesday morning, it was me and the usual groups of seniors who spent a few hours in the diner playing cards and gossiping.
The other diners were seated a distance from me. That meant I’d be able to work on the case without distraction. I flipped my notebook open to my suspect page. It was time to give some thought to the three columns to the left of my list of potential ne’er-do-wells—Motive, Means, and Opportunity.
“Might as well start at the top,” I said under my breath.
“What’s that?” Angela slid my order in front of me. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down again.
“I, uh . . .” My cheeks started to burn as I covered the page with my arm. In the past, my investigations had led to some difficult moments between the two of us. I didn’t want that to happen again.
She took the notebook from me, like she was a teacher catching a student with a comic book. I held my breath while she flipped back and forth through the pages. After what seemed like days, she raised her eyebrows.
“Not a bad start.” She tapped her finger on the suspect page. “You might want to make a note that O’Malley was taken in for questioning this morning.”
My cheeks cooled down. She approved of my sleuthing this time around. Which was good since she was the mayor and had the power to stymie my investigative efforts. Rather than questioning her motives, I uncapped my pen.
“Has he been charged?”
“No. According to the chief, he’s only a person of interest. Fedorov’s in the wind, though. Since they’re known associates, Matt thought it was better to bring him in now, rather than give him a chance to run, too.”
“Has he given anything up?” My heart rate picked up at the thought of the case concluding so quickly.
“I don’t know. I’m keeping out of the way. Matt doesn’t need me bothering him. I’ve asked to be informed of major developments, but that’s all.”
“That must be hard. Did you know Ollie well?” My question was an attempt at being tactful. It was common knowledge the man spent at least an hour a day at the diner’s lunch counter.
“I did. He was a good man. He did a lot of things for the community people didn’t see. And a lot of other things his fellow officers didn’t want to do. This town was safer because of him.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Don’t let one screwup at the end of his career define him.”
Ollie’s “screwup” a few months ago almost let a killer go free. Since he’d already announced his retirement and the culprit in the case was apprehended, the department kept the matter quiet. The plan had been to let him have a final moment of glory at the cookout.
And now that moment of glory had turned into a moment of sorrow.
I couldn’t let the crime go unanswered.
“What can you tell me about his wife?”
Angela stared at her water glass for a moment. A droplet of condensation slid down the side until it reached her finger. She wiped the moisture away before speaking.
“She’s sharp. I don’t think she’s ever lost a case that’s gone to trial. She likes to golf. And she makes an amazing martini.”
Hmm, not much about the woman on a personal level. “Is she nice? I’m trying to cover all the bases in case O’Malley isn’t the guy.”
“I don’t know about nice. Cordial is more like it. She made a pitch to be the town’s attorney a year ago. When I told her we couldn’t do it because of potential conflict of interest issues, she was disappointed, but took it well enough.”
“Because of Ollie?”
“Yeah. It would have probably been fine. I didn’t want to have any appearance of favoritism come up, though.”
“How much would the work have been worth?” When in doubt, I followed the money.
“Not a lot. A fifty-thousand-dollar annual retainer, then one fifty an hour for work beyond the retainer’s scope.”
“Doesn’t sound like enough money for a hotshot lawyer to commit murder over.” I drummed my fingers on the tabletop as I chewed on a grape. “At least not by itself. Do you know if she knows how to handle a gun?”
“Surely you don’t think she’d murder her own husband?” After a second, she shook her head. “Of course you would. With that imagination of yours.”
“An occupational hazard.” I shrugged. “I’m nothing compared to my authors, though.”
“Well, to answer your question, I don’t know. The gun club offers free training to police officers’ families. I’ll talk to Chief Roberson to see if they have any records along that line.”
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with Jack Rogers. He’s a member. I’ll ask him if he knows anything.” I jotted down a note to add the topic to my list of questions for him. The conversation was looking like it might take a while. That was assuming he had an alibi, of course. If he didn’t . . . well, I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.
“How is he? I didn’t see him on Sunday.” She frowned. “Normally he’s at the 9/11 committee booth. Hope he’s not sick.”
“I didn’t see him either.” I hated gossip but didn’t have time to wait around for answers. “I understand he had some harsh words for Ollie in the past. Over his brother.”
Angela’s shoulders sagged. It was like in an instant, she’d aged ten years.
“Everything about that was so sad. It was truly one of those times that everybody came out a loser. Yes, Jack’s brother was ill. And yes, maybe another round of inpatient treatment may have helped. But the man had become a serial offender and Ollie followed procedure. He did what he did with the safety of the Rushing Creek community in mind.”
“Do you think Jack still holds a grudge against Ollie for how things went down? Like, not only looking for someone to blame for losing his brother. More like—”
“Angry enough that, as things festered over time, he wanted revenge?” Angela flicked a crumb from her apron. “That’s an awfully serious allegation to make.”
“I’m not making it. I’m trying to look at all possible puzzle pieces. Besides, to be honest, I’m not sure I can look at Jack as a witness as objectively as I should.”
My cheeks got hot at the admission. I wasn’t proud of myself for having a crush on the man. The decorated war veteran was smart, loved his students, and was oh so easy on the eyes. It wasn’t the best admission to make when I was only ten days from tying the knot.
After a moment, Angela nodded and grinned. “The man is the total package. No doubt about that. I can appreciate your dilemma. I think this is when we need to remember the position Chief Roberson’s taken. As far as he’s concerned, until someone can be ruled out, they should be considered a suspect.”
Despite my desire to hold it back, I grimaced. This was the mayor of my hometown. And she was staking out a position that came perilously close to guilty until proven innocent. I wouldn’t be overly concerned with that kind of thinking from the less-forward-thinking Rushing Creek residents. To have it come from the local chief executive was stunning, though.
“That’s an awfully harsh take, isn’t it?”
Angela took a look around. The only other customer in the diner was seated at the lunch counter, chatting with her husband, who was normally behind the grill.
“Maybe. Any murder is horrible, and I will do anything the power of my office allows me to bring the killer to justice. And I especially don’t want people thinking they can solve problems by picking up a gun. At some point, those of us in government need to say enough is enough.”
The frustration in Angela’s voice was impossible to miss. No community was immune from violent crime. It seemed like every day, more and more people resolved differences with their fists or a weapon instead of with their words. And nobody seemed to know how to combat the ever-growing problem.
I took her hand. “Matt and his team are good folks. They’ll do everything possible within the law to track the killer down. I’ll do everything I can to help them, if you know what I mean.”
“To be honest, I don’t want to know.”
She got to her feet when a customer entered. “What I do know is that an officer was killed while in the line of duty. Ollie may not have been pursuing a criminal, but he was still representing Rushing Creek PD when he was shot. A cloud will be hanging over this city until this case is solved. I’m begging you, please don’t let that cloud hang around too long.”
The weight of the world seemed to follow Angela like a giant boulder chained to her ankle as she plastered a smile on her face and went to greet the customer. Three days had passed since Ollie’s life had been taken.
There were no solid leads.
The police were scouring every photo and video that had been submitted. As alibis were confirmed, the list of potential suspects shrank. The recovered bullet would help narrow down the type of weapon used. Progress was being made.
And yet, I couldn’t escape the feeling that we weren’t searching for a needle in a haystack. We were looking for a specific grain of sand on a Florida beach. A monumental task, indeed.
Which meant there was no time to lose carrying on with my investigation.