Quentin doesn’t say a word to Cam or me until we’re in the back of his patrol car away from Peter Holland. Peter had plenty to say to Quentin, though. He told him all about how we tricked his assistant into letting us into the office and how we attempted to steal something from him. I tried to tell Quentin about the files Peter was shredding, but he read me my rights, I think in an attempt to make me shut up.
“Are you really arresting us?” I ask as Quentin drives us to the station?
“What did you expect me to do? He pressed charges, and from the sounds of it, he had every right to.”
“We were just trying to help you.”
“Help me? My son is fighting for his life, and I have to be here to arrest you two for breaking and entering. Tell me how that helps me?” He’s furious. His hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.
“We didn’t break in. Natalie gave us the key.”
“And how did you get her to do that?” Quentin asks, his tone full of accusation.
I try to hold up my hands in protest, but I can’t move them much with these handcuffs on. “Okay, I know it looks bad.”
“Looks bad? Jo it is bad. Holland is pressing charges. I can’t make that go away.”
“He was shredding papers when his secretary told him we were here to talk to him about his ex-wife’s company. He took the shredded material and left in a hurry, kicking us out in the process. Tell me that doesn’t make him look very guilty of something.”
“It does, but do you know what looks worse? Two people conning an administrative assistant into giving them the key to her boss’s office so they could steal something.”
“We didn’t take anything. You can search us if you’d like.”
“You still lied to that woman to get inside Holland’s office. I can’t make the charges disappear.”
“He’s right, Jo,” Cam says. “We screwed up.”
When we get to the station, I call Mo.
“He arrested you?” she shrieks into the phone. “Like put you in handcuffs and brought you to the station?”
“In the back of his patrol car, yes.”
“I’m going to kill him. That man has some nerve. You were working a case for him.”
“Mo, Peter Holland is hiding something, and it has to do with his ex-wife, Jasmine Vitulli. I need you to find out what it is. There has to be some virtual trail even though he destroyed the physical evidence.”
“I’ll find it, and when I do, I fully plan to blackmail Peter Holland with the information to get him to drop the charges. Just hang in there, Jo.”
“Can you call Jamar for me. I’m not sure Cam and I will be able to open Cup of Jo tomorrow.” We haven’t closed for a day since we opened the place together. I can’t believe we’re going to have to.
“I’ll handle everything. Tell Quentin I said to watch his back because he messed with the wrong Coffee sister.”
I’m not telling him that. It will only make things worse. “Thanks, Mo.”
I hang up, and Quentin brings us to his desk. I can tell he’s delaying the process of booking us. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s trying to find a way to get the charges dropped. I’m not sure there is a way to do that, though. Mo’s plan might work, but I’m not exactly crazy about the idea of my sister blackmailing someone, even if it is to keep me out of jail.
“This is fourth degree burglary because you broke into a business,” Quentin says.
“We didn’t break in,” I correct him.
“Or steal anything,” Cam says.
“I hear you. I’m trying to spin things that way so the worst you did was con an administrative assistant into letting you into an office you shouldn’t have access to.”
“Will that work?” I ask.
“I don’t know yet. I need you both to be quiet while I figure this out.” Quentin works on his computer for a while and then goes into Chief Harvey’s office. It takes a few hours, but when he returns to his desk, he removes our handcuffs and says, “Get out of here. I’m not even going to tell you the strings I had to pull to make these charges go away.”
“Quentin, I’m sorry, but we were only trying to help you. I swear.”
“Breaking the law doesn’t help me because I am the law.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “I can’t deal with this right now. Forget about the case. I’m handing it off to someone else.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I already told the chief as much. I need to be with my wife and son right now. I’m going to take some vacation time.” He levels me with a look. “Make sure you understand what I’m saying, Jo. I won’t be around to bail you two out again. You’re on your own, and you are not to go anywhere near this case. Officer Liberman isn’t going to put his neck out on the line for you two the way I did.”
There’s no point in arguing. “Thank you for getting us out of this mess. We appreciate it.”
Quentin’s jaw tenses.
Cam and I walk out of the station and call Mo to drive us back to our car. I’m thankful she didn’t have to resort to blackmailing Peter Holland. Based on the little bit I know about him, I wouldn’t have put it past him to run to the police with Mo’s threat and press charges against her as well. She’s still livid with Quentin, though.
Cam and I call it a night. He drives me to my car, and then we both head home for the evening. I curl up on the couch with Midnight and have some leftover broccoli soup. We watch TV for maybe an hour before I shower and head to bed, happy to be finished with this day.
Cup of Jo is buzzing Wednesday morning. The rumor mill heard all about Cam and me getting arrested, and it’s all anyone wants to talk about.
“Come on, Jo. You have to tell us what happened,” Mickey whines.
“I heard you broke a window in that old tree farm,” Mrs. Marlow says.
I hold up both hands. “Enough. We didn’t break anything or steal anything. It was a misunderstanding, which is why we’re here and not sitting in prison right now. So whatever you heard, it’s wrong. Now can we please drop it?”
Mrs. Marlow pushes Mickey back toward their table. “That’s it. You heard her. Don’t anger her to the point where she kicks us out.” She turns back to me. “Just so you know, if you had gotten thrown in a jail cell, we would have stormed the police station and demanded Quentin release you.”
I smile at her. “I have no doubt you would have, Mrs. Marlow. Thank you.”
She winks at me and retakes her seat.
“You holding up okay?” Cam asks through the kitchen window.
“Yeah, I’m fine. No worries. I can handle this crowd. They’re easily controlled when you threaten their coffee intake.”
Cam laughs. “Okay, well let me know if you need backup.”
“Will do.”
Mo walks in and heads right for me. “You got a minute? I was up late last night getting information for you.”
I motion toward the corner table. “I’ll get us drinks.” After making two ristrettos, I join Mo at the table.
Robin brings over two banana chocolate chip muffins. “Cam asked me to deliver these to you guys. They’re fresh from the oven.”
“Thanks, Robin.” I smile at her.
“No problem, and so you know, if you had been arrested, Jamar and I would have made sure Cup of Jo opened. We’ve got your back, Jo.” She squeezes my shoulder before going back to work.
Mo unwraps her muffin and takes a bite. Her eyes close as she chews. “My future brother-in-law is the absolute best.”
“No argument from me. What did you find out about Peter Holland?”
“He bid on the hotel job. The one where Simon Porter was killed. Obviously, Holland didn’t get it. If you ask me, he was shredding all record of his bids.”
“But why? Everything is electronic these days. Physical copies don’t erase much anymore.”
“I’m sure he’s going to attempt to wipe any trace of an online paper trail as well,” Mo says.
I take a sip of coffee as I think this through. “The only reason I can think of as to why he’d do that is if he, or someone who works for him, showed up at the construction site and tried to sabotage the job.”
“You think Simon Porter caught them, and it resulted in him getting killed?”
“It’s certainly possible.” With Quentin off this case, I can’t get information I need. Like whether or not any tools were missing from the job site. I’ll need to talk to the owner of Merkel Construction, and I’m not sure he’ll want to discuss the case with a civilian. “Mo, can you get me the address for Merkel Construction. I need to speak with the owner.”
“Easily.” She grabs her phone, and I realize I could have looked up the company website myself.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I asked you to do that.”
“Hey, you were handcuffed and taken to the police station by your ex last night. You’re allowed to be a little off today.”
My phone vibrates with a text alert in my pocket.
“Done. I should get to work. Can I get a coffee and muffin to go for Wes?”
“Of course.” I get her order and say goodbye.
“What’s the plan for today?” Cam asks, coming out of the kitchen.
“We’re going to Merkel Construction. Mo found out that Peter Holland bid on the hotel job but was beat out by Merkel. I need to find out if any tools were missing from the construction site.”
Cam nods. “Makes sense.”
We get Jamar and Robin situated, and then we drive to the construction office. The place has tons of construction vehicles parked on the lot.
“At least this place looks like a construction company,” Cam says as we get out of the SUV and approach the front door of the building.
“They look more professional.” I’m not sure the hotel owner would visit the actual offices of the construction companies before choosing which one to go with, but if he did, I can see why he’d opt for Merkel over Holland.
Cam opens the door for me, and we step inside. The walls have tons of photographs, I’m assuming of jobs they’ve completed.
“This is impressive,” I say.
In the center of the room is a reception desk. The woman sitting at it is wearing a headset. She stands up when she sees us. “Good morning. Welcome to Merkel Construction, where we handle everything from commercial construction to personal property. I’m Lola, and I’d be happy to assist you.”
As she walks toward us, I see she’s dressed in a very professional two-piece pant suit and black heels, and not a strand of her curly brown hair is out of place.
“Hi. We’re hoping Mr. Merkel is around. We’d like to speak to him about a job,” I say.
Lola cocks her head. “I take it you don’t have an appointment. Is that correct?”
“It is. Will that be a problem?” I ask.
“No, not at all. Let me call Mr. Merkel and see if he’s available. What are your names?”
“I’m Joanna Coffee, and this is Camden Turner. We’re local business owners,” I add to make it seem like we have a reason to be here. Of course, we had Cup of Jo remodeled when Cam and I combined our businesses, so we aren’t actually looking to build at all.
Lola taps a button on her headset. “Mr. Merkel, I have two business owners here who would like to speak with you. Are you available now?” She pauses and bobs her head. “Yes, sir.” She taps her headset again. “Mr. Merkel will be with you in a few minutes. He’s wrapping up an email he needs to send out. You’re welcome to walk around the showroom and look at the other projects Merkel Construction has taken part in. And if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She laces her fingers in front of her.
“Thank you. This is certainly an impressive body of work,” I say, moving toward the photos on the nearest wall. “How long has Merkel been in business?”
“Thirty-four years. It’s a family business.”
“That’s great to hear,” Cam says.
“Are there any jobs Merkel is currently working on that we might know of?” I ask. It’s a little risky playing dumb like this when I fully intend to ask Mr. Merkel about the hotel job site, but I’m hoping Lola will mention it now.
“We have a few jobs in the works at the moment. We’re expanding the food court at the mall.”
“Oh.” I bob my head, pretending to be impressed by that. “And the others?”
Lola hesitates. “I’m sure Mr. Merkel can tell you all about them, but here’s a brochure for you to look at.” She turns and grabs one off her desk. “This shows quite a few of the jobs we’ve done in the past and lists the services we offer.”
Cam takes the brochure from her. “Great. Thank you.”
“Are you looking to expand or simply remodel?” she asks.
I have to think fast. “We own a space on Main Street. We’re contemplating building a bigger location elsewhere.”
“Well, new construction is our specialty.”
There’s the opening I need. I wag a finger in the air. “That’s where I’ve seen the company name. You’re building the new hotel on Ridgeway Court. I saw your signs.” I turn to Cam to play off the ruse. “The name was stuck in my head because we kept driving by the job site.”
He bobs his head. “You’re right. I don’t know how we didn’t realize that sooner.”
Lola forces a smile but doesn’t say a word.
Footsteps sound on the floor, and Lola whips around. “Ah, Mr. Merkel. These are the business owners I told you about. Joanna Coffee and Camden Turner.”
I’m impressed she remembered our names.
“Elliot Merkel.” He extends his hand to each of us. “Why don’t we step inside my office and discuss your construction needs?” He motions for us to follow him.
His office is big with a large picture window that looks out onto a patio with a water fountain.
“That’s beautiful,” I say, gesturing to it as I take a seat across from him at his desk.
“Thank you. It’s a big seller with homeowners. But you’re here about a business, right?”
“Yes. We saw your signs on Ridgeway Court where the new hotel is being built. That’s your job, right?” I ask.
Elliot Merkel clears his throat and laces his fingers on his desk. “Yes.”
“We heard there was an accident there. I hope that didn’t involve anyone with your company.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“Oh, well that’s good. I imagine accidents happen a lot on job sites. It must be scary for you knowing your workers can be injured on the job.”
“Actually, we have very few accidents. My men and women are highly trained and very good at what they do.”
“That’s reassuring to hear,” Cam says. “I’m curious, though, if it wasn’t one of your workers who was injured, who was it?”
I wonder if Cam is saying injured instead of killed on purpose, to further play off the delusion that we don’t know someone was murdered there.
“Um, we hired a security company to guard the site overnight. Sometimes job sites get vandals or even thieves.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” I say, turning to Cam. “Having expensive construction materials on site probably would draw thieves wanting to steal and resell the items.” I turn back to Mr. Merkel. “Do you always hire security guards for this reason? I want to make sure our business will be safe.”
“Yes, it’s a common practice.”
“And do you use the same security people each time so you can vouch for them? Will we get the same security guard the hotel has?” I hope I’m not pushing it too far with that last question since the man is dead.
“Well, you see, we hire the same security company. They decide who to send out for each specific job.”
“I see, and what company is that?” I ask, taking out my phone to pretend to jot down the name. “We’d like to do some research before we commit to anything.”
“Of course. I don’t blame you for doing your due diligence. We use Vitulli Security.”
“Vitulli. Is that with one or two Ls?” I ask. I have to say my acting skills are improving with all these cases I’m investigating.
“Two,” Mr. Merkel says.
“You said the accident involved the security guard?” Cam asks. “Did he hurt himself on some of your equipment?”
“No, and it wasn’t actually an accident. I guess you haven’t watched the news, but the security guard was murdered.”
I raise my hand to my mouth. “Murdered? My goodness, why?”
“You’d have to ask the police that one.”
“I can’t see why anyone would kill a security guard unless they wanted to steal something from the job site. Do you think someone tried to steal from you and the security guard attempted to stop them?”
Mr. Merkel leans back in his chair. “I did a full inventory of the equipment myself. Nothing was taken. I don’t think this killing had anything to do with my company.”
That means I’m right. This was personal. The killer is someone connected to either Simon Porter or Jasmine Vitulli.