Boston Cream Killer: Book 8 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series (8 page)

Missy trembled as she read those terrible words, the paper shaking in her hand. She heard the front door open and hurriedly stuffed it back in the envelope. Chas’s story about the woman in the diner was true, and this letter proved it, but why was this woman being so awful? Chas had nearly nothing to do with the family business. His position as president was purely symbolic; Chalmers handled the running of
BHC.

Before Chas and Jim came in, she dashed over to the utensil drawer by the sink, stuffing the letter inside. She returned to her seat just as they came into the kitchen. She stood and kissed Chas on the cheek, then turned to the man with him, who had a very serious look on his face.

“Hello Jim, nice to see you again,” she smiled. “Coffee?”

“Sure, Melissa, I’ll take a cup. Thanks,” he replied, sounding bone-tired.

Cupcakes were refused, coffee was poured, and the three of them made their way to the living room. Missy sat on the couch, with Jim and Chas sitting across from her. Chas was unshaven and unkempt, looking as though he’d been through the wringer, something that Missy hadn’t seen in the entire time she’d known him. Even when he was sick, he somehow managed to seem confident and well-groomed. Her heart sinking; she knew that something must be terribly wrong.

“Darlin’, what’s going on?” she asked softly.

“The woman that you saw with me at the diner… was murdered,” he said gravely.

Missy’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she looked from Chas to Jim and back again.

“But how… why… who?” she blinked, dazed.

“Melissa, Chas said that you saw the victim here, at the inn, earlier today. I’m going to need you to tell me about that,” Jim said, notebook in hand.

Missy felt as though her entire world had turned upside down.

“Oh, this is going to sound bad…” she whispered, causing Chas and Jim to glance at each other in surprise.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Jim directed.

Missy told him how she’d first met Hannah at the cupcake shop, and then she recounted the incident on the beach.

“I’m not a violent person at all, Jim, but when she said those horrible things, I just couldn’t help myself. I flew at her in a rage… I don’t know what might have happened if Spencer hadn’t come along and intervened.”

Chas closed his eyes, knowing how bad the statement must have sounded to his coworker.

“Spencer?” Jim raised his eyebrows.

“Our handyman,” Missy explained. “He lives in the basement.”

“Do you know if he was home last night, around eleven?”

“I have no idea,” she shrugged. “I wasn’t quite myself last night.”

“I understand,” the detective nodded, having heard the story from Chas. “I’ll want to speak with him and the woman who was in the coffee shop as well. Is there anything else that you can think of?”

Missy sighed and nodded, not trusting herself to speak as panic set in. She knew it was irrational, knew that there was no way that Chas could have been involved in the murder of that horrible woman, but she also knew that turning over the letter that she’d found in the foyer could potentially seem incriminating. She gave her husband a long, loving look, silently begging for his understanding, and rose to go to the kitchen, coming back in moments and handing the letter to Jim.

“This was laying on the floor in the foyer when I got up this morning,” she said dully.

The detective held it by the corner, carefully. “Did you open it?”

“No. It was already open,” she shook her head sadly. “But I did read it.”

Setting the letter carefully on the table, Jim reached into the inside pocket of his windbreaker and pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves, snapping them on. He then picked it back up and took the sheet of paper out of the envelope to read it. When he was finished, he folded it back up, placed it into the envelope, and slipped it into an evidence bag that he pulled from an outer pocket on the windbreaker. He carefully took off his gloves and replaced them inside his jacket.

Looking at Missy ruefully, he folded his hands and asked, “Melissa, do you know what time your husband came home last night?”

“Just before midnight,” she replied.

Jim looked from her to Chas and back again, then nodded. “Okay,” he said, sounding weary and disappointed. “I’d like to go see if Spencer is available to talk to, if you’ll show me where his basement door is, and I’ll need an address for the young lady from the cupcake shop,” he said, standing to go.

“Kel had a fight with her, too,” Missy blurted out suddenly.

Jim gave her an inquiring look and sat back down.

Missy looked at Chas apologetically. “Our friend Kel, you know, Phillip Kellerman?”

“Yes, I’m acquainted with Kel,” Jim nodded.

“Good. Well, he was in Betty’s eating breakfast and got into an argument with a strange woman who was saying awful things about Chas’s family,” she turned from Jim to Chas. “I didn’t tell you about it, because you’ve been so busy lately that I didn’t want to bother you with yet another thing. Spencer told us that we should tell you, but I didn’t listen,” she said tremulously.

“So, before you ever saw the victim, you knew that she had been saying bad things about your husband?”

Missy shook her head. “No, the first time I saw her was when she came to the shop, then Kel told us about his encounter, and then I saw her with Chas, but I had no idea that the woman who bought a cupcake was the same woman who fought with Kel and then hit on my husband. I didn’t put all that together until I saw her on the beach.”

“Where you attacked her,” Jim clarified.

She nodded again, miserable.

“I’ll have to speak with Mr. Kellerman, as well,” he made a note. “Anything else?”

“No,” Missy replied softly.

“Okay then,” his simple reply seemed to carry with it a premonition of doom. “Chas, will you show me to Spencer’s apartment?”

“Of course,” the deflated detective agreed.

Kissing Missy on the forehead on his way out, Chas led Jim out the back door and around the side of the house to Spencer’s private entrance to his basement apartment. A surprise waited for them on Spencer’s doorstep. A very startled and clearly unhappy Izzy Gillmore was ringing the doorbell.

“Hi Chas,” she said, attempting a smile. “You looking for him, too?”

“Yep. Is he gone?

“Apparently. Not that I’m surprised. He’s always disappearing,” she sighed.

Chas pursed his lips, considering how that statement must sound in light of what Missy had just said.

“Izzy, this is Detective Jim Reubens. He has some questions for you.”

Izzy’s eyes immediately turned from frustration and went straight to concern.

“What?” she demanded. “Did something happen to Spencer? Oh my gosh, is he okay? What’s going on?” the horror author’s mind was working overtime and her imagination was profound.

“I just need to ask him some questions. There’s nothing for you to worry about, as far as I know,” Jim reassured her.

Izzy sagged with relief, but her eyes were still wide and she chewed her lower lip nervously.

“Okay, anything I can do to help…”

“Let’s go inside,” Chas suggested. “I’ll text Spencer and see if I can find out where he is. When was the last time that you spoke with him?” he asked Izzy, steering her toward the inn.

“When did you see Spencer last?” Jim asked, as they seated themselves at the dining room table.

“Last night. We met for a drink, but we ended up fighting, so I didn’t stay,” she said, looking down at her hands.

“What time did you leave?”

“Around eight.”

“Did you hear from Spencer any time after that?”

“No, I wanted to text him because I felt bad about being so mean, but I didn’t.”

Jim looked at her closely. “Why are you here so early in the morning?”

“I didn’t sleep very well, and I didn’t want to put off apologizing anymore. I knew that Spencer gets up early to go run, so I wanted to catch him before he left,” she blushed. “I feel awful for the way that I treated him.”

“What time does he typically leave for his running?”

“I think around five, so that he can be showered and ready to help out with breakfast for the guests.”

“So you arrived here an hour ahead of when he normally leaves?”

“I… I wanted to make sure that I caught him,” she blinked, confused and worried.

“Melissa said that you thought you might have recognized a woman who came into her shop a few days ago. Does the name Hannah Folsom ring a bell?”

Izzy’s eyes lit up immediately, and she sat up straight, realization dawning. “Yes, that’s it! That was her, but… how do you know Hannah Folsom and that she was in Missy’s store?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Jim dismissed her question. “What I’d like to know is how
you
know Hannah Folsom, and if you had any idea why she might be in Calgon.”

Izzy frowned. “I have no idea why she’s here, but if I had to guess, I’d say that she was probably chasing a story. That’s her motivation for everything that she does. She works for the
NYC Reveal
. It’s a newspaper that blows open the biggest scandals in the country, and somehow, she has an uncanny knack for ruining people’s lives with the truth, whether it’s an affair, or drugs, or dirty money… she’s on top of it all,” she explained, with a touch of bitterness.

“And do you know of her by reputation only? Are you a fan of her work?” the detective probed.

“Hardly. She read one of my books and gave a review, saying that it was so bad that I couldn’t possibly have written it. She accused me of stealing tired old plots from other writers and then she dug up a writer who stepped forward, trying to claim my work. I don’t know if she actually thought it had happened, or if she was just trying to lash out at me for dating one of her ex-husbands, but she tried everything that she could to take me down.”

Jim scribbled several notes on his pad, circling something.

“And did she?”

“Not even close. I sued her, the paper, and the writer and they settled the case before it went public. She printed the only retraction that she’s ever rendered in her life, and we never spoke again.”

“So, there was no love lost between the two of you,” the detective summarized.

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t care if I ever saw that wretched woman again. I don’t know if she’s evil, or just a consummate opportunist, but she’s bad news, no pun intended.”

“I see,” Jim said slowly. “Miss Gillmore, where did you go when you left the bar last night?”

Missy and Echo brooded over mugs of steaming hot coffee at the cupcake shop, trying to figure out what on earth was happening and what to do about it. Missy was pale and her eyes were puffy and red from the emotionally horrific evening that she had spent.

“I just don’t know what to do, Echo,” Missy picked at the delicious key lime cupcake that had been freshly baked that morning.

“I don’t want to imply anything…” her friend began carefully. “But it seems awfully odd that Spencer just disappeared without a word to anyone, right after he saw you get into a fight with Hannah Folsom, and then she turns up dead.”

Echo loved Spencer like a brother, but felt that she had to point out the obvious, because to think that Missy, Chas, or her beloved Kel had committed the murder was ludicrous.

Missy shook her head, refusing to even entertain the thought.

“He just does that sometimes… he disappears. He’s been to war as a Marine, we have no idea what he’s dealing with, but we do know that he’s good and kind and honorable,” she insisted. “There’s no way that he did this. It had to be someone else.”

Echo fervently hoped so, but had to admit that she had reservations.

“I just really hate that everyone who is important to me has this cloud of suspicion surrounding them. It’s ridiculous,” she sighed, not even touching the vegan key lime cupcake that Missy had made.

“I know,” Missy nodded sadly. “Things haven’t been the same for me and Chas ever since that horrible woman came to town. I’m sorry to speak ill of the dead, but she really wreaked havoc in our lives in the short time that she was here.”

“I know, honey,” Echo squeezed her friend’s hand. “We’ll figure something out. We can’t just sit by and wait for Jim Reubens to figure out what’s going on.”

***

Detective Jim Reubens could smell the cold, stale coffee that remained in the mug on his desk. It had been a long night, and the morning wasn’t getting any better. A hotel key was found in Hannah Folsom’s handbag, prompting Jim to call the hotel, letting them know that no one was to be allowed into her room. He’d asked for security footage on her floor, but discovered that the only cameras on that level were near the elevators. Anyone who used the stairs could get in and out of the area without being seen electronically.

He’d dispatched a forensics team to go through the hotel room, and would be heading there himself momentarily. Apparently, there had been volumes of evidence which suggested that the reporter had been pursuing a potentially damaging story involving Chas Beckett, and there were detailed accounts of interactions with Missy, Betty, and Kel as well. Jim grimaced at the thought. Beckett was a darn good detective, one of the best that he’d ever known, and seemed to be a fine human being as well. He hoped that the evidence which seemed to be stacking up against Chas would turn an entirely different direction, but there was a job to be done, and even if it ended up being unpleasant, he was determined to follow through.