Blueberry Truffle Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 2

  Hawk shook his head no. “Nikki, Helen Brendale was suffocated to death, I'm sure of that. So either the killer is still around or long gone. But what worries me is that the woman found dead this morning is the aunt of a young girl who is both working for you and living in your home. Get it?”

  “I got it when I found out who the dead woman was,” Nikki told Hawk, fighting back fear. “Anyone could be the suspect, too.”

  “Some folks in this town are mighty upset with you, Nikki,” Hawk confessed. “Millin said he didn't like anyone who rocked the boat.”

  “I caught that,” Nikki told Hawk, glancing around at the people walking past. Most of them seemed to be tourists, but a few were obviously locals who tossed a curious eye at the jeep. “Anyone could have killed Helen Brendale in order to pin the murder on me.”

  “Anyone could be out to kill you,” Hawk said in a more serious tone. “From this point forward I'm your shadow. Pull out the roll-away bed at your cabin, because I'm sleeping over.”

  “Is that final?” Nikki asked giving Hawk a grateful smile. “Please don't expect me to play the strong damsel role at this point, because I'm really scared.”

  “It'll be okay,” Hawk promised. “Come on, we'll go get some coffee and see where we're at and then get to the station.”

  “Leave me at my store,” Nikki told Hawk. “I'll be okay with Lidia and Tori. I have to tell Tori, Hawk.”

  Hawk considered Nikki's request. “All right. But don't leave your store, are we clear? Now let's go inside and get some coffee.”

  Nikki followed Hawk into the diner. The smell of home-style food attacked her nose. She took a deep breath of freshly brewed coffee that was dancing with the delicious aromas of the daily lunch special. She followed Hawk to a back table. Walking over a brown tiled floor and past tan walls littered with old yearbook photos, Nikki kept her eyes low as she moved past both locals and tourists. Sitting down, she slowly exhaled. “Hawk, I can't go around suspecting everyone, but that's the first rule of the game—suspect everyone.”

  “Could be more than one person,” Hawk told Nikki as he snatched up a menu from the table and opened it. “I'm hungry. I know we just ate a little while ago at your cabin, but it might be a long day. We need our strength, and coffee might not do it.”

  Nikki hesitantly picked up a menu. In all honestly, she did feel hungry. Only having picked at her breakfast, she felt that a good meal might do her good. As she studied the menu, a woman in her early sixties wearing a brown waitress uniform approached the table. “What will it be, Hawk?”

  Nikki looked up at the woman. The woman tossed an authentic smile at her. Nikki smiled back as she took in the woman's short reddish-gray hair, chubby face, and red rosy cheeks. “Coffee…black...and a plate of chicken tenders and fried onions.”

  “Nope,” the waitress told Hawk, shaking her head, “you're getting some steamed veggies and baked chicken. Ms. Bates, what will it be for you?”

  “You know who I am?” Nikki asked.

  “Who doesn't?” the waitress smiled brightly. “Honey, you're a hero to a lot of regulars. You rid our town of some rats, and we're grateful.”

  “Not everyone feels the way you do,” Nikki pointed out.

  The waitress quit smiling. Looking over her shoulder, she nodded. “Not everyone,” she agreed. “So what will it be?”

  “Coffee, sugar and cream please...and a cheeseburger, no French fries.”

  “Nope,” the waitress told Nikki, “you're getting some steamed veggies and baked chicken, too. By the way, my name is Mira.”

  Nikki smiled as she watched Mira walk off. “She's a character.”

  Hawk rested his chin in his hands. “One of the best,” he agreed. “She's real, Nikki. Not a fake bone in that woman's body.”

  “Tell me about her, please.”

  Hawk closed his eyes and thought about Mira. “Well, her husband owns this diner. He's a nice enough fella, I guess. It's mostly Mira I see. She's from Iowa and moved here...oh, fifteen or sixteen years ago when her son got a scholarship to Vermont State. Her husband was a school teacher, and she was a homemaker who gave kids cheap piano lessons—Mira's words, not mine.”

  Nikki glanced toward the back of the diner. She saw Mira vanish into the kitchen through two swinging wooden doors. “Keep going.”

  “Nothing more to tell, really,” Hawk said, opening his eyes. “I come in here often enough, I guess, but Mira doesn't sit and spill the beans about her personal life. She gives me a few tidbits here and there, though.”

  “Okay, got it,” Nikki told Hawk. “So, now we have to sit on our hands until the autopsy is finished.”

  “I'm afraid so,” Hawk said. “I checked out the car. The gas gauge was at three-quarters of a tank. The hood was cold. As you know, there was no sign of any violence. The car doors were unlocked. The body had no signs of trauma.”

  “So Helen Brendale did not run out of gas. She was not in danger, or she would have locked the car doors. She arrived sometime during the night, parked out of sight, probably waiting for someone. Whoever killed her did so without causing any signs of trauma, and because the car doors were unlocked, she probably knew the killer. But because of the cologne smell, I'd say the killer is a man.”

  “Give the lady a gold star,” Hawk told Nikki, impressed with her deductive reasoning.

  “No thanks,” Nikki told Hawk. She studied the yearbook photos on the walls. The photos hung on the walls with care instead of being thrown up in a tacky manner. “This town has history.”

  “Every town has history, Nikki. Every town has murders. Every town has robberies. Every town has drugs. Every town has criminals.”

  Nikki continued to stare at the people in the yearbook photos. “1944, War World II, the graduating class...I count nineteen people. This town belongs to them, Hawk, not me. I'm just a troublemaker.”

  “Don't buy into that lie,” Hawk scolded Nikki. “Yeah, Pop is right about the governor pressing his thumb down on this town, but everything that has happened would have taken place with or without you here.”

  “But I shone the light under the dark rock.”

  “Good,” Hawk told Nikki. “If people in this town can't handle the truth,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “then let them leave and go whine their sob stories in some other town.”

  Shocked at Hawk’s brazen action, Nikki reached across the table and patted his hands. “Thanks...partner.”

  “Anytime,” Hawk said, spotting Mira carrying two cups of coffee. “Here comes the coffee.”

  As Mira set the two cups of coffee down, Nikki saw Tori enter the diner. Immediately spotting Nikki, Tori hurried to the table. “Is it true?” she asked.

  Chapter Four

  “Sit down, honey,” Nikki told Tori, spotting hungry eyes watching them.

  Tori sat down next to Nikki. “Chief Daily called the store. I know I'm fired, but I knew Lidia would need some help and—”

  “You're not fired,” Nikki told Tori and gently brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “Honey, Lidia and I want you to go to college, that's all. Our store is your store, you know that. Now about your aunt...yes, it's true.”

  Tori looked at Hawk and then back to Nikki. “How...how did she die? I'm supposed to go and identify her body, but I don't want to if Aunt Helen's body is really...bad.”

  “We don't know yet,” Nikki spoke softly, “but your aunt's body is normal. Hawk believes she was suffocated.”

  “Oh my,” Tori gasped.

  Mira patted Tori on the shoulder. “I won't say a word,” she whispered to Hawk and walked away.

  “Tori,” Hawk said in a stern voice, “your aunt was murdered. We don't know who killed her. What we do know is that you and Nikki could be the next targets. I'm afraid to say I think it's most likely you.”

  “Why me? I've never hurt anyone,” Tori asked in a scared voice. “Ms. Bates, I've never hurt anyone. I promise.”

  “I know, honey,” Nikki said and gently took Tor
i's hands into her own. “It might be that someone may try and hurt you in order to hurt me.”

  “I don't understand,” Tori said, confused.

  “Your aunt just happened to turn up dead as soon as you moved out of her house and moved in with Nikki,” Hawk told Tori. “Before I go any further, maybe I should ask you some questions. For instance, Tori, did your aunt have any enemies?”

  Tori shook her head no. “Aunt Helen was a hermit, Detective Daily. She wasn't the best at making friends. The only person she ever spoke to was her sister who lives in Miami. Aunt Fiona is crippled from the waist down and lives in an assisted living center with my Uncle Edward. I don't know them that well, just what Aunt Helen told me about them.”

  “Was she mean to you?” Nikki asked.

  Tori shrugged her shoulders. She watched Hawk grab his coffee and take a drink. “Not really mean—just cold, you know. After I came to live with her, she...well, it just felt like she wanted me to know that I was receiving charity from her. Aunt Helen never did want me living with her. I tried to make her like me. I cleaned her house, did whatever she asked of me, and even paid rent. It was never enough. I was so happy when you asked me to come live with you, Ms. Bates.”

  “I'm happy to have you living with me,” Nikki assured Tori. “You're like a daughter to me.”

  “Any stranger ever come around?” Hawk said, breaking up the moment.

  Tori shook her head no. “Detective Daily, I promise, I never saw a single soul in my aunt's house. People didn't like her and she didn't like them. The only person I ever saw come to the house was the UPS man. The internet was my aunt's best friend.”

  “Why did she drive that old Honda?” Hawk asked. “It's clear Helen had money. Your aunt could have afforded a brand new BMW if she wanted one.”

  “My aunt was sentimental over her Honda because it once belonged to her husband,” Tori explained. “When you walk into her house all you see are photos of her husband hanging on every wall and sitting on every table.”

  “I see,” Hawk said, taking another swig of his coffee. Nikki let go of Tori's hand and picked up her own coffee. “I'll check the phone and internet records,” he told Nikki.

  Nikki took a careful sip of her coffee. “Good idea. In the meantime, though, if it's all right with you, I want to go see the house together.”

  “Sure,” Hawk said, “Millin can just sit in a cell and wait.” Hawk looked at Tori. “Young lady, did your aunt have a will?”

  Tori shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know. If she did, I very seriously doubt if she mentioned my name to anyone. My aunt probably left all of her money to some foundation that takes care of cats. Oh, that was hateful, wasn't it? I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be,” Nikki told Tori.

  “No, what I said was wrong. I didn't like my aunt, and she didn't like me. She made me feel so...awful. But I never hated her. She's dead, and that's that. I should watch my tongue and offer my aunt the proper amount of respect.”

  Hawk nodded at Nikki. “She's a good girl,” he said, finishing off his coffee. “Not many like her around.”

  “I agree,” Nikki said and patted Tori's hand. “Tori, honey, you don't have to feel guilty if you're not upset by your aunt's death, okay?”

  “I'm trying to feel some remorse, but I can't,” Tori admitted miserably. “I feel hungry instead. Is that awful?”

  “No,” Nikki promised, spotting Mira carrying three plates to the table.

  “Here you go,” Mira said, setting a plate with a cheeseburger and fries down in front of Tori. “I can spot a hungry face a mile off. Hawk, here is your food, and Ms. Bates, dig in.”

  “Thanks, Mira,” Hawk said and tipped her a wink. “Mum's the word, okay?”

  “Make sure you leave me a big tip,” Mira told Hawk and then focused on Tori. “Dear, I didn't know your aunt, but I am sorry. If there is anything I can do, please, let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Tori told Mira in a sincere voice, “and thank you for the cheeseburger. I am hungry.”

  “I know.” Mira smiled and walked away.

  “Let's eat,” Nikki said, looking down at her plate of veggies and baked chicken.

  “Yeah, let's eat.” Hawk looked around the diner at the curious eyes watching their table. The faces he placed his worried eyes on all appeared normal. At one table sat a middle aged man with his wife eating meatloaf. At another table sat a woman in her mid-fifties eating a salad and reading the morning newspaper. At a third table sat a man with his wife and two twin boys, all eating cheeseburgers. The diner was filled with normal people eating normal food and talking about normal things. At least, Hawk thought to himself and taking a quick glance at Nikki, that's how it seemed. Somewhere a murderer was loose. Hawk didn't feel that murderer was more than one person. No, he thought, a single person was after Nikki, and if they didn't catch the murderer in time, more people were going to die.

  Chapter Five

  “It's like a museum in here,” Nikki told Hawk as they stood in a spacious living room. Looking down at a glossy hardwood floor that didn't have a speck of dust, she shook her head. The living room was immaculate. Expensive antique furniture stood in ideal locations, covered with plastic. The walls were covered with burgundy wallpaper that pushed out all light. A large bay window overlooking a beautiful lake was covered over with thick, heavy, dark green curtains. The walls were covered with photos of a young and handsome man who never seemed to smile. “This must have been so hard on Tori.”

  Hawk walked over to a hardwood mantel, kneeled down, and studied a white marble fireplace. Reaching out his hand, he examined the floor of the fireplace for ash. “Clean as a whistle,” he told Nikki. Straightening up, he studied the photos lining the mantel. “The rest of the house is the same. Every room is clean as a whistle. The attic is bare. The basement is bare. Tori's old room has been stripped. This house is a dud.”

  “I'm not so sure,” Nikki objected, walking over to a white and green antique chair. “Hawk, Tori's room was stripped. You heard Tori—she said all she took was her clothes and personal belongings. But the bed and other furnishings are missing from her room.”

  “Maybe Helen donated them? I can check with the local charities.”

  “Our town doesn't even have a Goodwill store, Hawk. I hate to admit it, but our little town is a bit snobbish when it comes to thrift shops,” Nikki pointed out.

  Hawk didn't argue. He scratched the back of his neck and looked around the living room. “Yeah, I kinda got that,” he said. “I'll still make some calls. Maybe she called in an out-of-town charity?”

  “Maybe, but I don't think so,” Nikki said, running her fingers over the plastic covering the antique chair. “Tori said her aunt used the internet a lot. I'm interested in seeing her phone and internet records. But for now, I'm more interested in where the furnishings in Tori's room disappeared to. There is no way that woman could have lugged a bed downstairs by herself. The staircase is too steep.”

  “This house gives me the creeps,” Hawk admitted. “I feel like I'm in a morgue. How can someone live like this? Come on, let's get out of here.”

  “Tori is waiting outside on the front porch,” Nikki told Hawk, reluctant to leave. Something in her gut was chewing at something important. “Hawk, can you tell Tori to come back inside?”

  “Nikki, that girl hates this house. I'm not—”

  “Please,” Nikki insisted.

  “Okay,” Hawk said in a voice that told Nikki he didn't agree.

  Nikki watched Hawk leave the living room. Alone, she leaned forward and examined the plastic covering the chair. “Someone sat down on this chair,” she whispered to herself, running her fingers over the plastic covering the seat. “The plastic covering the rest of the furnishings is as smooth as a baby's butt...”

  “Ms. Bates, you wanted to see me?” Tori asked, walking into the living room.

  Turning around, Nikki looked at Tori. The young woman looked beautiful in the dress she was wearing. So much better
than the t-shirts she used to wear. “Tori, any idea where your aunt might have taken the furnishings in your old bedroom?”

  “No,” Tori replied, hugging her arms. Easing her eyes around the living room, she felt a shiver come over her. “Ms. Bates—”

  “Honey, call me Nikki.”

  Tori stopped her eyes at the fireplace. “Nikki, I always stayed up in my room. My aunt and I barely spoke to each other unless she had a chore for me to do.”

  Nikki looked past Tori. “Where is Hawk?”

  “On the phone with Chief Daily,” Tori explained. “Is something the matter?”

  “Come here,” Nikki said, and Tori walked over. “Look,” Nikki pointed down at the seat of the chair, “see how the plastic is disturbed. Someone sat here.”

  “My aunt didn't allow anyone in this room,” Tori told Nikki in a serious voice. “You didn't dare come in here and, oh boy, if you sat down on anything, the end of the world would come.”

  “Someone sat in this chair,” Nikki confirmed to Tori, “and I believe that someone is the killer. But,” she continued, “look at the floor. The floor is spotless.”

  “I'm confused.”

  “Tori, your aunt was compulsive about cleaning, wasn't she?” Nikki asked.

  “Oh yes!” Tori said and made a sick laugh. “She spent hours cleaning things that were already spotless...especially in this room. How many times did she sweep and mop this floor over and over again? My goodness, that woman could have bought stock in a disinfectant company.”

  “So,” Nikki told Tori, “if someone sat in this chair, and I'm sure that's true, then that means that person was in this living room, which means—”

  “My aunt would have scalded this living room as soon as that person left,” Tori said, catching on. “But that would mean my aunt cleaned over any evidence, right?”

  “I'm afraid so,” Nikki sighed. “But it is clear that someone sat in this chair.”

  Tori rubbed her chin. “Nikki, my aunt would have never sat down on any of this furniture.”