Spring into Murder (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 10

  “On Charlene's bed,” Chet explained. “Don't make sense for that woman to leave a note like that lying around if we killed her, does it?”

  “I mean, what does Charlene take us for, idiots? What does she think, we would kill her and just leave her note out in the open for the fuzz to find?” Milton shook his head with disgust.

  “Maybe Natalie is getting desperate,” Sarah explained. She looked over her shoulder at Andrew's office door. “Come on, guys, we have to speak with Andrew.”

  “So much for food,” Amanda sighed. “Chet, Milton, maybe you boys can treat a hungry girl to dinner later.”

  Chet and Milton weren't in the mood to joke. They were worried sick as they followed the two women into Andrew’s office.

  Outside, Natalie Hopski’s car sped away, unaware that she had just narrowly missed crossing paths with Chet and Milton in the hallway of the police station. If she had seen them, she might have learned that her brothers had found Charlene's body. As far as she knew, Charlene's body still remained undiscovered. What she also didn't know was that the door to Charlene's room had been left open instead of fully closed. “I'll kill them all,” Natalie promised herself as she sped back to the lodge, determined to use Charlene's death to destroy Chet and Milton and claim her father’s fortune all for herself. “I'll kill them all and show them just how dangerous crossing Natalie Hopski is.”

  Chapter 6

  Spring Storms

  Andrew shoved his hands down into the pockets of his jeans. “Fellas, you should have let one of my guys know,” he said in an upset voice. “By not doing so...well, it doesn't make you look good.”

  “We were scared,” Milton repeated apologetically. He took a brown paper cup full of coffee from Amanda and took a sip. “We knew Natalie killed Charlene and she might come for us next.”

  “I'm not scared of her,” Chet said in a flat voice. His face was steady but his eyes were worried. He looked up at Sarah. “We didn't kill Charlene, Sarah.”

  “I know,” Sarah said and offered Chet a supportive smile. They had just sat through Andrew’s process of taking their statements, a tiring process that seemed to turn up nothing much helpful. She decided to take a new track. She held up Mr. Hopski's journal. “Guys, I've spent the last two hours reading this journal. There are some very interesting entries in this journal that prove, at least to me, that your father was very worried about Natalie, if not downright scared of her.” She briefly went over some of the more shocking revelations in the early entries.

  “So Pop never went hunting, ever?” Milton asked in a shocked voice. “Pop just came up here to the woods and hid out in a cabin?”

  “A cabin he built for his wife after World War II. You might not know it, but your mother was from this part of the country,” Sarah explained. “Your father loved your mother more than pen can describe on paper.”

  “We know that,” Chet assured Sarah.

  “Here,” Amanda told Chet and handed him a cup of coffee. “Hot coffee always helps.”

  Chet took the cup of coffee from Amanda and took a sip. His eyes became thoughtful. “What did Daddy say about Natalie?” he asked Sarah.

  Sarah leaned back against Andrew's desk and listened to a strong wind howl outside. A powerful spring storm was moving in over Snow Falls. The outside sky was low, dark and ominous. “Mr. Hopski had concerns that Natalie did push your mother to her death,” Sarah explained in a sad voice. “He could never bring himself to speak his thoughts outright, but deep down in his heart, he knew the truth.”

  “So Pop wasn't blind after all,” Milton stated in a half-relieved voice. “Pop wasn't a stupid fella.”

  “No, he wasn't,” Sarah agreed. She opened the journal and cleared her throat. “But he was scared. Listen to this entry from last year, right before he left for Alaska.” Sarah cleared her throat again. “I'm leaving for the cabin, this time to die. I know Natalie is out to kill me. I would rather die at the cabin where I can rest in the memory of my wife than die in this awful city where my daughter will never let me rest.” Sarah closed the journal. “There is enough in this journal to force Natalie into a very tight corner. However, a team of lawyers would chew through the journal in a minute, claiming the writing was by a man suffering from bipolar depression. The journal by itself is not enough. Natalie would eventually slip through our fingers. We don't want that to happen.”

  Andrew stood up from behind his desk. “I have two dead bodies in my town, Sarah. It won't be long before the state police start poking their noses into our town, sniffing around for answers.” Andrew drew in a deep breath. “Guys, I'm afraid I'm going to have to place you both under protective custody for the time being. I’m not arresting you, but I do need to protect you from Natalie. Not to mention, the note Charlene Nelton left behind points a direct finger at the both of you. And because you didn't report the death immediately and decided to wait…well, it casts suspicion into your corner. As it stands, you could have killed Charlene Nelton and now be trying to pin the murder on your sister.”

  “What?” Milton protested. “You heard what Pop wrote in his journal, you crummy cop! We didn't kill that scarecrow Charlene any more than you did!”

  “I know that,” Andrew stated in a calm voice, “but the law is the law and I have my job to do. If you’re innocent, let the rest of this investigation bear that out. Besides,” he added, “I don't want any more dead bodies in my town. Protective custody is the best I can do for the time being.”

  “Andrew is right,” Sarah said in a reluctant voice. “I don't feel that Natalie is working alone and—”

  The phone on Andrew's desk rang. “Just a second,” Andrew said and answered the call. Sarah waited. Amanda walked over to Milton and Chet and patted their shoulders in a show of support. “Okay, thanks a lot,” Andrew said and hung up the phone. “That was the coroner. He's bringing over the official report.”

  Sarah examined Andrew's face. “But—?” she prompted.

  “There were heavy traces of sedatives in Mr. Hopski's blood along with a strong hallucinogen,” Andrew explained. “But no traces of any kind of medication that might treat depression. Seems like there was something under the dirt, after all.”

  Sarah focused on Chet's face. The poor man's jowl dropped with sadness. “Poor Daddy was killed, just like Momma,” he whispered. A tear dropped from his eye. Milton sat stunned.

  Sarah sighed. What could she say? Before she could say anything, the phone rang again. Andrew answered the call. “Hello? No, I understand… Oh, is that so? Thanks. Yeah, the older we get the more we seem to forget. Thanks for calling me back,” Andrew said and ended the call. He looked at Sarah. “That was the coroner again. He forgot to tell me that the hair sample we found on the rope matches to Mr. Hopski.”

  Sarah wasn't surprised by the results. “Chet, Milton, I need to look at Mr. Hopski's will. My gut is telling me that some recent changes might have been made.”

  “Phil Cohen is Pop's lawyer,” Milton told Sarah. “Phil is a good guy, old like Pop was... kinda rough and gruff, but he cares. Why?”

  Sarah opened the journal in her hands again just as thunder exploded outside and shook the office. “Listen to this entry.” Sarah looked at the downpour outside the office window. “I changed my will. If I am found to be murdered, my money goes straight to my two sons, Chet and Milton. Natalie found out about the change and became furious with me. I fear she will now try to end my life. I will be leaving for my cabin soon in an attempt to hide from her.” Sarah looked up to see the look of horror on Milton’s face and sorrow on Chet’s face. “Charlene has been spending a lot of time with Natalie. I fear I know the reason. By now, Natalie must have informed Charlene I changed the terms and conditions in my will. I'm scared for my life.”

  “Poor Daddy,” Chet said. He looked up guiltily and said, “We didn't know about the will, honest.”

  “I believe you,” Sarah promised Chet.

  “What do you think this means?” Milton asked Sarah in an
upset voice. “My mind is racing, I can’t think. But a woman like you must have a theory.”

  “I think your father was drugged and forced to change his will.”

  “The hallucinogenic drug,” Amanda said.

  Sarah nodded her head. “After that he was given sedatives, tied up, and led out into the woods and left for dead. Later, after he died, his body was moved to the old Snow Bear Trail where it would eventually be discovered, once spring arrived. Mr. Hopski's body was found in a way that made it appear he became lost and died of exposure to the elements.”

  Amanda balled her hands into two tight fists. “Oh, someone is going down,” she promised. “And that someone is Natalie Hopski.”

  “Natalie Hopski wasn't working alone,” Sarah pointed out. She rubbed her chin. “I'm thinking Natalie was setting Charlene up to take the fall, but for some reason, Charlene became a threat to Natalie’s plan, which forced Natalie to kill her.” Sarah continued to think through the theory. “I wonder what Charlene found out? No matter, what we have to focus on right now is Natalie Hopski.”

  Amanda sat down next to Sarah, lost in thought. “The handwriting on the note Chet and Milton found matches Charlene's handwriting, right? So could she have also been pumped full of a hallucinogenic drug?”

  “Possible,” Sarah admitted. “The coroner will tell us in time. But my professional opinion is, yes, Charlene Nelton was given the same drug as Mr. Hopski.”

  Andrew shook his head. “Sarah, this isn't good.”

  “No, it's not,” Chet spoke in a worried voice. “I have something to confess.”

  “Yes?” Sarah asked, surprised to hear him pipe up so suddenly.

  “My wife takes sedatives,” Chet said. He looked at Milton with worried eyes.

  “Tell them,” Milton sighed heavily.

  “I can't,” Chet said and shook his head. He looked down at his meaty hands and grew silent.

  “Chet, please,” Sarah pleaded.

  “Chet, should I tell them?” Milton asked in a sad voice. “I think they ought to know.” Chet reluctantly nodded his head yes. Milton drew in a deep breath and steadied his mind. “Teresa, Chet's wife, she works at one of them drug rehab centers, you know. She was a big druggie herself when she was young and eventually got clean, went back to school and got her degree in counseling. She started working at...what's the name of the place...oh yeah...Sunshine Rehab. I know, that's a really lame name for a drug rehab place, but you know how southern California is.”

  “I know,” Sarah promised Milton.

  “Anyways,” Milton paused long enough to listen to the sky open outside as a raging rain began to fall. “Teresa was fired from her job last year. It seems...well, she was accused of...well, maybe she had a relapse,” Milton said, “though she denied it up and down.” He shook his head sadly. “Her supervisor said a whole lot of drugs went missing from the rehab center shortly before Teresa was fired.”

  “Hallucinogenic drugs?” Sarah asked pointedly.

  “Who knows?” Milton shrugged his shoulders.

  “Yes,” Chet said and raised his eyes. “Sunshine Rehab had to confiscate illegal drugs from the patients all the time. And she knew—” he stopped, unable to continue.

  “She knew where the confiscated drugs were stored,” Milton finished for Chet. “She was in charge of them, in fact. So yeah, doll face, hallucinogenic drugs could have been among what was stolen.”

  “By my wife,” Chet said in a miserable voice.

  “But why would your wife want to help kill your father?” Amanda asked Chet. Chet did not meet her eyes. His brother was silent, too. It was a tense moment.

  Milton only looked down at his cup of coffee. “I always suspected, but I never said a word,” he said quietly.

  Sarah turned to look at Amanda and then at Andrew. Andrew nodded his head. “Milton, what did you suspect, exactly?”

  The office grew silent again. The sound of the heavy rain falling outside filled the silence expectantly, like a crowd staring at something dangerous. Sarah waited patiently for Milton to speak, even though her gut knew what words the man was going to relay to everyone. Still, Sarah knew not to push him and to let the man speak at his own pace. After all, she reminded herself, Milton and Chet were both dealing with the loss of a father they loved very much.

  As a cop, it was sometimes too easy to press a person for answers and forget the person had emotions and thoughts of their own that mattered. In the world of cops versus civilians, the cops had a tendency to become impersonal and simply focus on the case at hand, forgetting that their sole purpose was to Protect and Defend and not Control and Conquer. Being a cop was a risky business that meant dealing with dangerous people and sometimes it was difficult to remember how vulnerable victims truly were. And Milton and Chet were not bad guys. They were victims.

  Milton finally raised his eyes and looked up into Sarah's sweet and caring face. “I always kinda figured Teresa and Natalie favored each other, that's all. As a coincidence. I mean, their looks. What were the odds of them actually being sisters?” He swallowed nervously and looked over at his brother, but Chet would not meet Milton’s eyes. Milton continued. “But over time, I started to notice that they, well, had some of the same character traits, you know… Teresa wasn't as mean as Natalie was, no way, but her eyes...after a while, they grew dark.” Milton looked at Chet again. “Please don't be mad at me.”

  “I'm not mad at you,” Chet promised his brother, his eyes still downcast. “How can I be? I...agree with you,” he said in a tormented voice. “But Teresa was supposed to love me. We said our vows. For better or for worse. I thought she would stand by me...the way I always stood by her.”

  Sarah’s heart broke anew. “I'll run a check and see if Natalie had any biological siblings,” Sarah promised. “If your hunch is correct, we may have found the source of the hallucinogens.”

  “I wish I was wrong,” Milton replied miserably. “All I ever wanted was for my brother to be happy. I can run through a passel of wives and have them dump me and be okay with that. I have thick skin. But Chet, well, he's tender-hearted and gets his feelings hurt real easy.” Milton rubbed Chet's shoulder. “We could be wrong about Teresa.”

  “We're not,” Chet replied to Milton woodenly. He looked up at Sarah. “I sensed the change in my wife. I knew her heart turned bad. I didn't say anything when she was fired from her job at the rehab clinic. I didn't say anything when she started coming home late. I didn't say anything when she stayed gone for days at a time. I was afraid to lose her. Now, I've lost her altogether.” Chet stood up and walked out of the office, despondent.

  “Let him go,” Andrew said quietly, “I doubt he'll try and make a run for it.”

  “I'll go check on him,” Milton said and excused himself.

  Andrew waited until Milton left his office before speaking. “It’s still a mighty hard task for two women to handle alone,” he pointed out. “Even two big and strong women.”

  “I agree,” Sarah said. Sarah and Andrew exchanged a worried look. Sarah patted Amanda's hand. “Let's go down to the lodge and look around and ask some questions.”

  “Okay,” Amanda said and walked over to the office door. She turned and looked at Andrew's worried face. “You two think there's a third person, don't you? A man.”

  “Possibly,” Sarah said. “Andrew, run a check on Teresa and Natalie. See if they were listed as siblings in the foster care system – but also check and see if there were any other biological brothers and sisters. I think the pieces are starting to come together.”

  “Will do,” Andrew promised and watched Sarah and Amanda leave his office and enter a dark storm.

  ***

  Shelly Brights stood up from behind the polished wooden counter and yawned. As pretty as she was, she was young enough that she hadn’t yet learned how to keep the snotty, bored look off her face. “More cops,” she moaned, and put down her novel.

  Sarah walked across the shiny hardwood floor of the lodge’s lo
bby. It smelled of Pine-Sol, and she looked around at the cozy lounge area with its two green armchairs, a wooden shelf lined with interesting mysteries, and an inviting coffee bar filled with donuts and pastries. But the cozy lodge seemed otherwise deserted.

  “What can I do for you?” Shelly asked in a put-upon voice as she smoothed back her long blond hair. “This is just terrible for business; my parents are going to be so mad when they get back. They leave me alone to manage the lodge for a week and look what happens – a murder.” Shelly shook her head. “I haven't sold a room all day.”

  “Honey,” Amanda said and pointed to the dark storm outside, “cut the attitude, okay? This is a crime scene, but with a storm like this there’s not going to be a single tourist looking for a room anyway.”

  Shelly watched as Amanda shook rain from her white umbrella. “Don't wet my floor,” she complained.

  Sarah sighed and braced herself. She loved the residents of her new town, even though some were very rough around the edges. “Where were you last night?” she asked, skipping any pleasantries.

  Shelly tossed a thumb at a door behind her. “In the managers’ apartment where we live, where else?” she said in a bored voice. “At nine sharp I closed the lobby, cooked myself a late dinner, watched a few reruns and went to bed.”

  Sarah searched the lobby for any security cameras and came up empty. “No security cameras?” she asked.

  “Why should there be?” Shelly asked. “Just in case you haven't noticed, we live in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of bears. If anyone is pathetic enough to want to rob me for the twenty-five dollars I have in my cash drawer, then let them be my guest.” Shelly flicked a piece of lint off the blue sweater she was wearing. “Any more questions?”

  “Where do you keep the keys to the rooms?” Sarah asked.

  Shelly rolled her eyes. She walked over to a metal box on a nearby desk and dumped it unceremoniously on the front counter in front of Sarah. “In the Key Box,” she said and opened it with a key she fished out of her pocket. Sarah looked into the box and saw a row of keys fastened to numbered hooks, plus a mess of loose keys and rusty old keyrings at the bottom of the box. She wordlessly gave Shelly a look, and the young woman snapped the box shut defensively. “Well, this isn't a five-star hotel. What did you expect, electronic key cards?”