Bound To Be Dead: Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 3 Read online

  John tilts the screen my way. “We only accept two weeks. And sometimes we block out times to give the public a chance at a decent tee time too. It all depends on your uncle’s mood that week.” He points to the keyboard. “The arrow keys will take you back a week at a time. And since you’re here, I’m going to grab a bite to eat. If anyone needs help, tell them I’ll be right back.”

  “Sounds good.” I tap on the arrow key and start sifting through the sea of names. This is when I could really use Brittany’s help. She probably would have written a quick program to find patterns for me. I miss the kid already. I hope she’s not in any trouble.

  Shaking off my sadness, I force my brain to focus on the task at hand. I know the man I’m looking for is probably over forty because Nat said he had a dad gut and wore dad golf clothes. And he has brown hair. He might have played last weekend because Pattie was here in town then. But then, maybe he just says he’s playing golf and never does. Then what would I do?

  Dylan asked for the same data, so I should just forge on and hope I figure it out as I go. I pull up the tee times from last weekend and dive in. I’ve only been back in town for about six months and was gone since college, so I don’t recognize all the names, but some I do.

  John returns, pulls a golf magazine from the rack, and then sits on a chair in the shoe section to read. Should I ask him what some of the men look like, or would that give away my secret mission? Do I really care if John knows what I’m up to? At this point, my dad’s depending on me, so I’m going to risk it.

  “So, hypothetically, if I were looking for a man who was described as having a dad gut and brown hair, who is probably married, and might play golf every other weekend, who would I be looking for?”

  John tosses the magazine aside and joins me at the computer. “The member database has pictures of everyone if I don’t already know what they look like. Assuming they’re a member.”

  “If someone played golf that much at the same place, it’d be cheaper to be a member, right?”

  “Yeah. By a lot. Chances are it’d be a member.” John pulls out a laptop from under the counter. He opens it and pulls up the member database pictures arranged alphabetically. While John goes through the reservations, he calls out the occasional name for me to find the image. None fit the bill so far. Either too old and gray or too young and slim.

  After a few minutes, John stops and tilts his head. “Look up Mike Sanchez, Doug Poole, and Art Bishop. They all play with Joe Kingsley pretty regularly.”

  Kingsley, the bane of my store’s existence. He’s always on me to comply with his silly merchant association rules. “When I was in last, asking about the golf ball through my store’s window, you said Kingsley didn’t play often.”

  John nods as he continues searching through tee times. “He sponsors the high school golf team and recently started playing again. I was told he used to be good, but he had a shoulder injury last year, so he took some time off.”

  “Oh. Then that makes sense.” I scroll down and find Mike’s picture first, and he’s close but not a match, but the other two could be candidates. I write Art’s and Doug’s names on a stray slip of paper sitting on the counter. “These two guys would fit. And Kingsley too, for that matter. Have they played every other weekend?”

  “Let’s see.” John arrows down through the weeks. “None of them are exactly every other week, but they all play often. Kingsley can play for free with the high school kids when we have open times, so it’s hard to tell how often he actually plays.”

  “So you don’t make the kids sign in?”

  John shakes his head. “The only rule is that they have to have one of the coaches from school with them when they play. We just note it as team play.”

  Huh. Joe is married to Emily, my former biology teacher. He might be a fit. The other two men I don’t know anything about. I shoot pictures of the three men from the laptop’s screen to my phone. Maybe I can get Nat at The Blue Hippo to take a look and see if she recognizes any of them.

  “Thanks, John. Are you sure you don’t want me to drop off the printouts? Dylan won’t mind.” Probably.

  John’s forehead crumples. “Are you sure?”

  I nod as I cross my fingers behind my back. I’m pretty sure Dylan won’t mind. And maybe I can just give it all to Madge, so Dylan will never know where the pages came from.

  “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to San Francisco to meet a friend right after work, so it’d save me a stop.” He reaches under the counter and pulls out a stack of pages. “Good luck with whatever it is you’re up to. And tell Dylan your uncle will never know.”

  “Will do. And I owe you a meal. You name it, and I’ll make it.”

  John’s whole face lights up. “Do you know how to make jambalaya? I love that.”

  “Child’s play. I’ll drop it off along with some beignets for dessert. Does Friday work?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll be by at closing, then.” I grab Cooper’s leash and scoop up the pages. “Thanks again, John!”

  He smiles and lifts a hand. “Can’t wait till Friday.”

  Cooper and I head out to the parking lot. After my dog is strapped in, I take a quick peek at the papers. Yellow highlights grab my attention. Seems Dylan asked John to highlight all the times my uncle played golf in the last few months. Dylan and I weren’t looking at the same data after all. I’d love to know what Dylan thinks he has on my uncle.

  Checking the time, I see I have another forty-five minutes before I’ll check on Brittany again. Plenty of time to call and see if Nat is still at The Blue Hippo. I find the number on my phone and call, but get a voice mail. They must be busy, so I leave a message for Nat to call me and then head for the police station. Maybe Madge can figure out what Dylan thinks he has on my father.

  And my uncle, for that matter.

  After dropping my car and Cooper back home so he can eat, I head out on foot for the police station. With Dylan’s papers in hand, I make my way up the municipal building steps and toward the police station. I’m tempted to stick my head inside my uncle’s office and ask Woo-Woo Beth when he’s returning. But then, the less time I spend with her, the better, so I keep walking down the corridor.

  I tug on the door to the station and am instantly hit with the busy clatter of keyboards, phone conversations, and ringing phones. Seems Dylan has everyone working on Tina’s case.

  I head straight for Madge’s desk and plop the papers on top of it. Madge is on the phone, as usual, so I drop into her guest chair and wait. I don’t see my dad or Meg anywhere, and they weren’t at home. It would have been tough to miss them on my walk over here. Unless they’re still in Dylan’s office. His door is closed.

  Madge hangs up and leans close. “What’s all this?”

  “Pages for Dylan from John at the golf course. Dylan went there yesterday. But he was looking for the scoop on my uncle.” I point to the page highlights. “See here?”

  Madge flips through the pages. “I wonder if Dylan is trying to establish a timeline of your uncle’s actions? He spends a fair amount of time at the golf course.”

  “I don’t know. But I have some candidates for Pattie’s mystery man.” I pull out my phone and show her. “I called Nat to see if she’d take a look at them. Haven’t heard back.”

  Madge’s brows jump. “All three are married. Good work, Sherlock. Have you heard from Brittany yet?”

  “No.” I draw a deep breath and blow it out. “I’m trying to remain calm and not jump to conclusions. It’s not working so great.”

  “Hopefully, she’ll call soon.” Madge pats my hand. “The mayor got back about an hour ago. Have you heard anything from him?”

  “Gage was going to talk to him first. I’m sure he’ll want to gloat in person, so I’ll see him soon. Are Meg and my dad still here?”

  “Yes.” Madge’s lips compress. “A deputy was just sent to search your father’s room at your house and his car. He gave them his permission and the keys.
”

  It would have been nice if someone had asked me. It’s my house. Well, for now anyway, until my uncle takes it away. “What were they looking for?”

  Madge whispers, “Dylan got a new lab report back. I saw a fleeting glimpse of a note on his desk. I can’t be sure, but I think the poison starts with a B. Or that could have referred to blood.”

  “Well, that’s definitive.”

  Madge waves a hand. “I know. Not much help. But hey, Dylan is really doing his best to keep things under wraps this time. And I can’t be sure if it was test results from Tina’s cup or from her autopsy.”

  Even less help, then. That B could have referred to many things. “Okay. At least they haven’t arrested Dad yet.” I shove the stack of pages closer to Madge. “It’d be great if Dylan didn’t know it was me who dropped these off, but don’t lie if he asks. I want everything on the up-and-up this time.”

  “Okay.” Madge glances over her shoulder before leaning close again. “Listen, you have to play dirty with dirty players. Maybe you tell your uncle that you know about his affair? Would that keep him in a more charitable state when it comes to your trust?”

  Man, that’s tempting. But wrong. “I’m not in the mood to face blackmailing charges. But if it were you, would you want to know your hubs was cheating on you?”

  “Heck, yeah.” Madge’s eyes burn with fierceness. “Because then I would have a chance to get my ducks in order before he knew I knew. And you can bet your sweet behind I’d make the man pay!”

  And Aunt Carol deserves all she can get after putting up with my mean uncle all these years. “Then maybe I should tell my aunt so she can stay a step ahead of Frank. After my uncle gets my share, he’ll be far wealthier. I just hate to hurt her feelings.”

  Madge rolls her eyes. “You think Frank has never hurt her feelings in all these years? Come on, Sawyer. Don’t be naïve. She’s as quiet as a church mouse around him for a good reason. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she knows nothing about him suing you either. He’s probably planning to tell her about Tina before she finds out about you, so he can keep your half out of the divorce. Remember what Pattie overheard? That he said he’d tell Carol if she’d break up with your dad? Tina broke up with Max right after that.”

  That’s right. And if my uncle divorced my aunt before our trust issues were settled, he wouldn’t lose nearly as much because she’d only get three-quarters of what she knows about. My half would easily make up for that loss. Finding out about Brittany’s adoption might have been the break he’d been looking for while seeing Tina on the side. Maybe that has been my uncle’s plan all along. “You make good points. I’ll think about it. But for now, I need to get home and see what the deputy is up to.”

  Madge nods. “Let me know what Nat says after she sees the pictures.”

  “Will do. See you later.” I stand and push in my chair before I quietly slink out the door.

  Once in the hall, I head for the front door, but pause when my name is called from behind. When I turn, Deputy Ben is rushing toward me with one of my father’s tricks in his hands.

  He says, “Hey, Sawyer. Glad I caught you. Can you come back and help us with something real quick?”

  “Sure. What do you need?” I ask, but suspect I already know.

  Ben holds up a puzzle box with his gloved hands. “We can’t figure out how to open this. Meg couldn’t remember. Dylan said you might be able to help?”

  “Probably.” I follow him to the station again and into a small room with a table and two chairs. My dad’s personal things are laid out on the table. Nothing looks suspicious, so that’s a relief. But did my sister really forget how to open the box, or is she covering for my dad? It’d be easy enough for him to say he can’t remember either.

  “Why don’t you just ask my father to open the trick?”

  “Want to keep things by the book. What if there’s more than one secret compartment?” Ben hands me a pair of gloves. “Put these on, please. And go slow enough so I can write down what you’re doing to open the box.”

  “There’s only one compartment.” But I see his point, so I slide my hands into gloves that are way too big for me and pick up the box to examine it. It’s one of the more challenging puzzle boxes my dad owns. He used to keep money in it when on the road. But what if that’s not all that’s in there now? This is something Madge and I spoke about earlier. How if I found something incriminating against my dad, it’d be tempting to leave it unreported.

  I could always say I don’t know how to open the box, but then they’d probably have to break it open and destroy it. It’s one of my dad’s prized possessions. He tells people it once belonged to Houdini. Who knows if that’s really true or not?

  “Let me think for a second. It’s been a long time since I’ve messed with this.” I stare at the colorful Chinese box decorated with serpents and dragons, trying to recall the exact sequence. “Some of the drawers have to be pulled out only halfway and in just the right order for the first of four locks to trip. There’s one on each side of the box.”

  Ben scribbles in his notepad. “So, where do we start?”

  “Right here, at the palace steps.” I glace up at the mirrored wall on the other side of the room. Is Dylan watching me? Because if so, he’ll know in a heartbeat if I’m lying. He knows me better than anyone else.

  I get back to the task at hand as dread fills my gut. If my dad had something to hide, this would be the perfect place for it. “The lower palace steps open. Four need to go open halfway and the bottom one all the way out.” I quickly do the sequence and then turn the box clockwise to the next scene.

  “This side, you have to push on the dragon’s eye while pushing the button on the bottom edge of the box, right here.” I lift the box and show Ben the little piece of flat wood.

  I slowly turn the box to the next side with sweaty palms. Is this a mistake?

  I keep going. “On this side, you press with your thumb right here on the darker mosaic tiles and then slide the rectangular piece of wood out. Once that’s out, you can slide this lighter-colored piece here up.” I turn the box for the final move and draw a deep breath. “On this last one, you press with your thumbs on opposite corners here, and then here.”

  Once I press the secret wooden panels, the round inlaid dragon symbol at the top pops up.

  Ben reaches for the dragon medallion to pull it out of the box, but I lay my hand over his to stop him. “No, that will trip the locks, and we’ll have to do it all over again.”

  I slowly turn the dragon medallion counterclockwise three times and then back the other direction six more times before I slowly lift off the top. I lean forward to peer inside, hoping with all my soul the cavity is empty.

  Ben holds an arm out to stop me and looks inside. “Bingo.” He grabs a little white envelope and pulls it out.

  I hold my breath as Ben lifts up the envelope. It’s small and couldn’t hold much, but the lump at the bottom indicates there’s something inside. What the heck could that be? Something for his show? Like flash-bang powder? But then, why keep it in the complicated box? This makes no sense. But please don’t let that be something poisonous.

  Ben turns to me and says, “Dylan said you can’t see this part, Sawyer. But thanks for the help.”

  Great. What have I just done? Helped my father’s case, or given Dylan a reason to arrest my dad?

  Chapter 13

  Outside the police station, the hallway is empty as I make my way home. I’m still kicking myself for opening the Chinese puzzle box my sister told Ben she couldn’t open. Should I have taken her lead and done the same? I can’t imagine Meg has forgotten how to open the box, but she could have. It’s been a long time since we were kids on the road with our dad. Hopefully, there won’t be anything bad in that little white envelope. I’d ask Dad, but he’s still being questioned.

  It’s just after five o’clock, and I’m itching to call Stella again to check on Brittany. But I left voice mails, so hopefully
, I’ll hear from Stella soon.

  I’m almost to the front door of the municipal building when Woo-Woo Beth appears beside me. Great. She’s all I need right now.

  “Quitting time. Finally,” Beth says as she hitches her oversized purse onto her shoulder.

  Since when does Beth make small talk with me? “Long day?”

  “Always. Something wrong, Sawyer? You keep frowning like that and your forehead will stay that way.”

  She probably wants to gloat about my uncle’s victory. “I’m fine. Have a nice evening.” I pick up the pace to put some distance between us.

  Beth catches up to me at the park. “Just because I work for Frank doesn’t mean I agree with all he does, you know.”

  I stop walking and face her. I have to look up because Beth is six feet tall. “Such as?”

  “His affair with Tina.”

  Beth’s eyes do that weird thing again and focus like lasers into my eyes. It’s as if she can see inside a person’s brain. Or worse, their soul. It gives me goose bumps. “Yeah. I feel bad for my Aunt Carol.”

  Beth’s lips tilt. “Oh, don’t feel too bad for her. She might have accidentally gotten a few emails forwarded to her that she shouldn’t have.”

  “She knows about the affair?”

  Beth taps her index finger against her lips and nods. “I’ve been in your aunt’s shoes. Scorned women have to stick together, right?”

  “Absolutely.” I want to hug Beth on my aunt’s behalf, but we have too much history for that. “I was going to tell her about the affair. If I can’t have what belongs to my mother, I’d rather she gets it than Frank. So, thank you, Beth. That was a kind thing to do.”

  Beth rolls her eyes and starts walking again. “Let’s not start being nice to each other, Sawyer. I did it for your aunt, not you.”

  And the old Beth is back.

  Shaking my head, I cross the park to my store to be sure Nan locked up. The lights are off and the door is locked, so I head up the hill toward my house, still grateful to Beth. I didn’t want to have that difficult conversation with my aunt. And I hope Carol sticks it to my uncle, big-time.