Blueberry Truffle Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 3) Read online

  “I know,” Nikki told Tori. “A lot of people might say the imprint made on this plastic could have come from your aunt. What we have here is evidence that would never hold up in a court of law. However, this helps us.”

  Hawk walked into the living room. “What are you two talking about?”

  Nikki called Hawk over and showed him the imprint. “Someone sat here.”

  Hawk kneeled down and studied the imprint. “Yeah, someone did,” he said, standing back up. Drawing in a deep breath he stood in silence for a few seconds. “Pop called me. He went through your aunt's purse, Tori. It appears nothing was missing.”

  “But…” Nikki said, watching Hawk's face.

  “Where is her house key?” Hawk asked, frustrated. “The set of car keys we pulled from the car had no house key attached to the key ring. Pop had the car hauled down to the tow-yard. He went through the car with kid gloves trying to find the house key and came up empty-handed.”

  “I gave my aunt back the house key I had,” Tori promised.

  “Let's check Helen’s bedroom again,” Nikki told Hawk and hurried upstairs before he could object.

  Chapter Six

  After climbing a steep set of stairs covered with a deep red rug, Nikki turned right and walked down a long hallway that reminded her of a scary museum. The hallway was lined with photos of Helen Brendale's husband, staring down at unsuspecting people with creepy eyes. Hearing her pumps hit the hardwood floor as she made her way to Helen's bedroom, Nikki quickly looked over her shoulder and felt relief when she saw Hawk appear. “Creepy,” she said.

  “Yep,” Hawk agreed.

  Stopping at a closed door, Nikki drew in a deep breath, reached out, grabbed the crystal door knob, and twisted it. The bedroom door clicked open. With nervous hands, Nikki pushed the door open and walked into a room that might as well have been a funeral parlor. Before Nikki could take two steps, she paused. “Hawk!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” Hawk said, alarmed.

  “How could I have been so dumb? Look for the missing house key; I'll be right back.” Turning away from Hawk, Nikki ran back downstairs into the living room where Tori was standing. Without saying a word, she dropped down to her knees and began to smell the plastic covering the sitting chair. “Ah, there it is,” she said excitedly.

  “What?” Tori asked, watching Nikki smell the plastic like a bloodhound.

  “You'll see,” Nikki said, shooting to her feet and running back upstairs. Dashing into Helen Brendale's bedroom she saw Hawk going through a dresser sitting next to a large four-poster bed with heavy red curtains. Running over a white carpet free of stains, she slid to a stop next to Hawk. “The cologne we smelled in the car, the same scent is on the plastic covering the chair.”

  Using a pen from his pocket, Hawk grabbed a pair of white granny panties and made a disgusted face. “You look through these dresser drawers, okay?”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I heard,” Hawk promised Nikki, dropping the panties.

  “You don't seem too excited.”

  “Nikki, I figured the killer was the one who sat in that chair,” Hawk explained. “We both think the killer is a man.”

  “Oh,” Nikki said, disappointed that the information she had given Hawk fell flat.

  Hawk sighed. Gently, he put his hand on Nikki's shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Hey, you found an important clue, be proud of that. You keep that bloodhound nose of yours alert for that scent, and I'll do the same, okay?”

  “Well, at least we know—or think—the killer is a man,” Nikki said and eased Hawk to the side as she began to go through the drawers with methodical hands.

  “Seems that way,” Hawk agreed. “I'm going to have that plastic run for fingerprints, okay? And maybe the lab can identify what brand of cologne we're smelling, too.”

  “Good idea,” Nikki told Hawk. “I would also have this entire house dusted for prints. I'm sure Chief Daily is having the Honda dusted down.”

  “Yeah, Pop is on his game,” Hawk explained. “He's really not a bad fella, Nikki. Yeah, he's rough around the edges, but he's getting old and has his retirement to think about.”

  “I understand.”

  Hawk watched Nikki go through the drawers. Standing back, he admired her beauty as well as her brilliance. Crossing his arms together, he began to wonder about the woman standing in the strange bedroom with him. Sure, she had ruffled a few feathers, but who would be after her? Whoever it was had a plan that would end with Nikki being sent to prison. The killer wanted Nikki to suffer instead of die. “After we leave here we'll take Tori to identify the body, and then we hit the station. Tori can go back to your store and help Lidia. It'll probably be close to closing time anyway.”

  “I just hope Lidia wasn't too overwhelmed at the store today,” Nikki worried. “I'm sure putting a lot on her. Besides that, I haven't even reported to the paper today to speak with Mr. Picardo. I was supposed to have a meeting with him at three.”

  “Are you sure you want to work for the paper?” Hawk asked Nikki in a voice that clearly told her he was against the whole idea of her becoming a slave to the press again. “Your store is a full-time job, you know.”

  “So is solving these crimes. I haven't been spending a lot of time at the store, Hawk. Besides, when winter arrives, I'll need an extra source of income.”

  “Your store will bring in enough income during the spring, summer and fall months to get you through the winter, I'm sure,” Hawk pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Nikki said, suddenly feeling the need to defend her desire to work for the paper. “Hawk, I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions.”

  “I know, I know,” Hawk said, throwing his hands into the air the way a tired boxer does when he's backing away into a corner. The last thing Hawk wanted—or needed—was to stir Nikki into an argument. If the woman wanted to take a position at the paper, well then, that was her choice. Sure, Hawk knew that by Nikki taking the position, trouble would follow, but what could he do? “Let's just keep hunting for the house key, okay?”

  Nikki agreed. For the next half hour, they searched Helen Brendale's bedroom in silence, only to come up empty-handed. “Off to the morgue,” Hawk said, walking out of the bedroom.

  “We're already in one,” Nikki replied, closing the bedroom door.

  Chapter Seven

  After taking Tori to the hospital morgue to identify her aunt, Hawk drove her back to Nikki's store and then headed toward the police station. “That was tough on her,” Nikki told Hawk, looking out the driver-side window as Hawk maneuvered his jeep through town.

  “Yeah, it was,” Hawk agreed. “I didn't expect her to begin crying. She has a good heart.”

  “I'm going to take care of her,” Nikki promised. “Hawk?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “What?” Hawk pressed Nikki.

  Nikki remained silent for a couple of minutes and then turned in her seat. Looking at Hawk she absorbed the man's honest features. “Was it really safe to leave Tori at the store?”

  “She's being watched by a plain-clothes cop,” Hawk said. “Pop sent James to watch Tori. He's the best cop in town.”

  “Besides you,” Nikki replied and then felt herself blush.

  “Well, I'm not so sure about that.” Hawk smiled and then nudged Nikki with his right elbow. “We can't let the killer think we're onto him. If we secure Tori, and we're being watched, then the killer might take a different path. We need to try and keep this guy on the path he's on.”

  “Are we really so sure this is all about me?” Nikki asked. “Hawk, couldn't Helen have been killed by a private romantic partner that Tori was unaware of?”

  Hawk glanced at Nikki. “Maybe, but we both know that's probably not true. Whoever this killer is, he lured that woman out to a remote gas station and killed her.”

  “But why Millin's Gas Station?” Nikki asked, puzzled. “Certainly people know of that awful man's past.�
�

  “I've chewed on that,” Hawk confessed, “and I think the reason the killer lured Helen Brendale out to that gas station is because it's the only gas station in town that has no security cameras. Also, the killer knew Millin would find the body.”

  “Why didn't the killer just kill that strange woman in her home and call it in anonymously?”

  “Exactly,” Hawk said and glanced at Nikki.

  Something in Hawk's eye sent a chill down Nikki's spine so powerfully that she had to look away. “The killer wants me to investigate this case...cat and mouse, right?”

  “That's my way of thinking,” Hawk said, turning right on Fall Leaf Drive, easing farther away from the downtown district and closer to the police station. Traffic was light and the tourists were thinning out as late afternoon approached. The atmosphere in town felt different somehow. Even though the air was warm, it felt cold. The tourists seemed uneasy, anxious to drop cash on worthless junk and hurry out of town as quickly as possible. “The story of Helen Brendale's death is still under wraps, but something tells me people know.”

  “I got that same feeling,” Nikki said, catching Hawk's meaning. “Lidia told me the store had only a trickle of customers today. Usually it’s packed.”

  “Yeah,” Hawk said and grew quiet. Pulling up to a long, one-story, brown building serving as the local police station, Hawk parked next to Chief Daily's car. “Home sweet home,” he told Nikki.

  Nikki surveyed the police station. Definitely small-town stuff. The police station sat on a quiet road facing the back of a local shopping center housing only antique shops. Behind the police station stood a beautiful open field leading down to a forest line. Four police cars were parked in front of the station. Nikki was reminded of an old black and white movie she had seen as a teenager where a small town came under attack from aliens from space, and the only defense the town had was its small police force. “Cozy,” she said.

  “Come on,” Hawk said and walked her inside the police station.

  Walking through a double set of wooden doors, Nikki followed Hawk into a medium-sized lobby lined with thick brown carpet and wooden chairs. A long marble counter stood at the front of the room. Sitting behind the counter was a woman in her late sixties with short gray hair. The woman was wearing a blue and gray cop uniform that was obviously too large for her small frame. “You've got an angry old man back in holding,” she told Hawk, taking a cigarette from her mouth and placing it down on a metal ashtray.

  “Yeah, I guess I better go write up the charge and let that old geezer make bail,” Hawk told Nikki, nodding. He walked to a door and opened it. The door opened into a long hallway lined with three doors on each side. At the end of the hall stood a metal door that opened up into a concrete room holding jail cells. Hawk stopped at the first door on his right.

  “Detective Hawk Daily,” Nikki said, reading a name written on the frosty glass. “Impressive.”

  Hawk blushed some. “Go on in. I'll be with you in a bit. I need to go to the processing room and make sure Millin was processed correctly and then write up the charge on him. Give me thirty minutes, okay?”

  “Okay,” Nikki smiled. Standing still, she watched Hawk walk down the hallway, open the metal door, glance over his shoulder at her, and then hurry off to complete his chore.

  Chapter Eight

  With Hawk out of sight, Nikki opened the door to his office and walked in. “Oh my,” she gasped, walking into an office that resembled a city after a tornado had ripped it apart. A wooden desk stood at the back of the office with messy papers and files slung all over it. A metal cabinet sitting next to the desk had papers sticking out of it. A bookshelf that held books ranging from law to old movie classics stood on the east wall; the bookshelf looked as if a kindergartener had organized the books resting on its shelves. Posters of tropical islands, frozen tundra and scorching deserts were pinned up on the walls at awkward angles. A trash can overflowing with paper coffee cups finished off the messy office decor. At least, Nikki thought, the blinds hanging over the window seemed intact. Shaking her head, she walked to Hawk's desk and looked down at the mess. “Messy,” she said and then simply sighed. “Well, let's straighten up some.”

  Methodically, Nikki began to pick up one piece of paper after another and organize them into neat little piles. Then, she stopped. Underneath a pile of papers sat a photo of Hawk holding the hand of a beautiful woman. The two of them were standing on a warm beach, a breathtaking sunset behind them. Nikki picked up the photo and examined Hawk's face. Hawk was smiling—really smiling—and seemed so happy. The woman standing next to him seemed equally happy. “Oh Hawk,” Nikki said in a sad voice. Putting down the photo, she leaned against the desk and closed her eyes.

  There she was, Nikki thought, investigating another murder, while beautiful beaches and tropical sunsets passed her by. Didn't she leave Atlanta to find her own piece of tranquility in the world? Didn't she leave Atlanta to escape the crime, the violence, the politics, betrayal, and oh yes, the traffic? So what was she doing caught up in another murder investigation? Why couldn't she leave her old life behind and melt away into her new life of baking and selling delicious chocolates to willing tourists who always complimented her store? “Why didn't I escape to a tropical beach and start selling smoothies?” Nikki sighed.

  Hearing the door open Nikki was startled to see Chief Daily. “Oh, I was looking for Hawk.”

  “He went to the processing room,” Nikki explained.

  “Good. Millin is threatening to sue if he doesn't make bail soon,” Chief Daily replied. Instead of leaving he stared at Nikki. “Hey, I am sorry about the threat I made against you. Ms. Bates, I... well, I'm sorry.”

  “Wait,” Nikki said before Chief Daily could close the door, “stay around a minute. I... let’s talk, okay?”

  Chief Daily looked over his shoulder and then walked into Hawk's office, closing the door behind him. “My son is a pig,” he told Nikki, shaking his head at the messy office. “But he's a fine detective. New York would take him back in a second.”

  “I bet,” Nikki agreed. “Chief Daily, I... Hawk and I believe the person who killed Helen Brendale is a man.” Nikki explained about the cologne smell in the car and on the plastic covering the chair.

  “I'll get some men over there ASAP. We'll dust the entire house down,” Chief Daily told Nikki. “Good work.”

  “We really need the phone and internet records along with the autopsy report,” Nikki told Chief Daily, feeling hopeful that the man was finally accepting her as part of his team.

  Chief Daily walked to the window, pulled back the blinds, looked out at the open field, and then turned back to face Nikki. “I have the report. Traces of fiber were found in her throat and nose. Helen Brendale appears to have been suffocated to death. My son hit the ball out of the park on that assumption.”

  Nikki stood silent. She imagined a woman being suffocated to death with a pillow. “Chief, Helen Brendale would have fought her attacker.”

  “Not if her attacker used chloroform on her. That's right,” Chief Daily informed Nikki. “Whoever killed Helen Brendale knew exactly what he was doing. We now have an unsolved murder, Ms. Bates. We also have a killer on the loose in our fair town.”

  “I know what you're thinking and—”

  “That you're the target? Hawk and I talked about that, and I agree,” Chief Daily told Nikki. “Helen Brendale's niece is now a resident in your home. As soon as that young lady relocates, her aunt turns up dead. Doesn't take much to see how this points to you, especially because the young lady living with you is now set up to receive over three million dollars.”

  “What?” Nikki gasped.

  “Helen Brendale left the young lady living with you everything she owned. I guess she had a heart after all. I checked with her attorney, and he showed me the woman's will. You have a very rich young lady living with you. I would raise her rent if I were you. But in the meantime, I would worry about the suspicion that has now been thrown
into your corner.”

  “But I—”

  “Look at it from my eyes,” Chief Daily interrupted Nikki. “You take a young woman into your home—a young woman who works for you, by the way—and soon after her aunt is found dead. As of now, you and that young woman are now suspects in the murder of Helen Brendale.”

  Nikki stood in shock. Trying desperately to gather her wits, she shook her head and then began to pace around Hawk's office. “The killer must have known Helen had money...”

  “Before we go there,” Chief Daily told Nikki, “maybe you better tell me where you and Tori were last night?”

  “At home, making chocolate...alone,” Nikki answered in a miserable tone. “That's not good, is it?”

  “No, I'm afraid not,” Chief Daily agreed. “Ms. Bates, I know you didn't murder Helen Brendale. If I thought you had, I would place you under arrest right now. Besides, your SUV is still in the shop, so unless you had someone drive you to Millin's Gas Station, I seriously doubt you murdered Helen Brendale. But, Ms. Bates, you're still a suspect and...”

  “And what?” Nikki asked worriedly.

  Chief walked back to the window. With his back turned to Nikki, he spoke. “The governor of Vermont doesn't like the fact that three murders have been committed in this town in the last month. He's sending a special investigator from the capital to look at you. This man, Ms. Bates, isn't coming here to shake hands. He's coming here to make sure he leaves with you in handcuffs. The game has now turned political, and the governor's office is going to do all it can in order to please the public eye, including destroying your life.”

  “But I didn’t have anything to do with—”

  “I know that, Ms. Bates,” Chief Daily said in a strong voice, “but the fact is, there have been three murders since you arrived in town, and those odds are not in your favor. This man the governor is sending here has one purpose: To make sure you are somehow found guilty for all three murders or are least tied into them somehow.”