Soufflé Murder: A Seagrass Sweets Cozy Mystery Page 10

  “Thank you, Ms. Roth,” Ashley said a half-hour later as she paid for her session. “My neck and shoulders feel a lot more relaxed than when I came in.” She was surprised at the change in attitude that she was seeing in the massage therapist—the woman seemed collected and at peace, with no indication that she'd been screaming at her new client less than 24 hours before!

  “I'm glad,” Chantelle responded. “You still have some knots in those muscles, but it's going to take several sessions to untie all of them. You must be under an awful lot of stress to be that tight!” Ashley agreed and started out the front door while Chantelle led the client waiting in the entry room back to the treatment room.

  “Oomph!” Air whooshed from her lungs as Ashley ran headfirst into a huge, hulking man on the front porch. He has to be at least six-five, she thought. And he definitely works out regularly. With muscles like that, I wouldn't be surprised if he's fooling around with some shady supplements. Is it even possible to be that bulky naturally?

  “Oh, I'm sorry!” the young man grabbed Ashley's shoulders to help her catch her balance. “Are you okay? I didn't mean to run into you! Are you hurt?”

  “No, I'm fine, and it's not your fault,” Ashley answered. “I was off in another world, and I wasn't paying a bit of attention to my surroundings. I didn't even see you standing there.”

  “Well, I'm glad you're okay,” the man said. “I'm Rocky—Chantelle is my mom. Are you a client?”

  “Yes, I just finished a session,” Ashley said. “I feel almost like a new woman. Your mom is very good at her craft.”

  Rocky nodded. “She loves what she does. And she loves being able to do it in this old house, too. It's perfect for her. There's plenty of room upstairs for living quarters, and there are several rooms downstairs for treatments, consultations, and storage. It's all paid off so she doesn't have the pressure to earn enough for a mortgage payment.”

  Hmm ... Ashley thought. Based on the paperwork on her desk, Chantelle may not have a mortgage, but she owes plenty! According to that invoice, she owes the construction company money, and they are threatening to sue. On top of all that, she is up to her eyebrows in debt on monthly bills. Maybe business is really bad—or maybe she has a gambling problem!

  “It's a lovely place, at least the part I saw is,” Ashley said. “It has great bones, and she's decorated it beautifully.”

  “Yeah,” Rocky agreed, “and it's not too frilly so I won't have to change much when I inherit it after she retires. She's already said that when she doesn't need all the space for her massage business, she's going to move into something smaller and turn this house over to me. All I'll have to bring with me will be my clothes, my computer, and my workout equipment. I think she's thinking about retiring soon, too. Mom hasn't been as thrilled with working lately. She's getting up there in years so it's about time.”

  Is he kidding? Ashley fought to keep from rolling her eyes. Chantelle Roth isn't any older than her late forties, MAYBE early fifties. She's not “up there in years,” and I wouldn't expect a woman her age to be planning to retire for at least 15 years or more!

  Ashley tucked that tidbit into the back of her mind, wondering if, perhaps, Rocky had a previously unexplored motive for the murder or if he was just self-absorbed and a little spoiled. She would definitely need to consider it more carefully later.

  “That sounds nice,” Ashley replied. “Will it be convenient to your job site?” She was hoping he'd share what he did for a living or some other useful information.

  “Well,” Rocky laughed. “I'm self-employed, and I work from home so anywhere I live is close to work.”

  “Oh?” Ashley tried to look interested. “What is it that you do?”

  “I have a retail business,” Rocky smirked. “I get most of my orders online, and I deliver them in person.”

  Somehow, coming from this guy, that sounds a little shady, Ashley thought. I wonder exactly what it is that he sells. I'd bet it's not totally legal, whatever it is.

  “Visiting your mom often, you've probably seen a lot of Estes Mount. Have you ever attended any of the events over there?” Ashley asked Rocky. She was curious about whether or not his attitude toward the place matched that of his mother. “I'm a caterer, and my partner and I may be doing a few events there soon. I wondered what you think of it.”

  “Nah,” Rocky replied. “I've never made it over for any of them. Fancy parties aren't really my thing anyway. I'm more a beer and sports kind of guy. I know my mom gets pretty het up about the stuff going on over there, but I've never really thought it was all that bad—not my style—but no one's ever bothered me in any way. She'd probably have a fit, though, if she thought I was over there for any reason.”

  They chatted for another few seconds before Ashley said goodbye and gathered Dizzy from the edge of the porch where she'd left the dog napping in a patch of sunlight.

  “Diz, we need a new avenue to explore in this case,” Ashley informed her pet as they drove home. “Any suggestions because I don't have a single lead? I don't even know where to start looking for a clue!”

  “Woof!” Dizzy answered. Ashley laughed and gave the dog's head a ruffle. “Okay, I'm sure that's probably a good idea,” she said. “Thanks for your input. You keep thinking about it, too.”

  Ashley thought about going over the copies of the rehearsal photos another time, but she decided that she'd already gleaned everything that they had to offer. Remembering what she and Ryan had discussed the night before, though, she had another idea so she grabbed her phone and scrolled through the contacts.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Andrews,” Ashley said when Robin's mother answered the call. “I wonder if I might be able to take a look at the pictures from the rehearsal dinner?” She held her breath, planning to use the possible publicity picture story if she needed to explain her request. The older woman agreed, not questioning why Ashley might be interested in them, and Ashley made arrangements to stop by the house within the hour.

  “Thank you for letting me look through the pictures,” Ashley told Mrs. Andrews when the woman welcomed her into the house. “I appreciate your allowing me to drop in on you with so little notice, especially when you're dealing with so many other things.”

  “It's not a problem at all,” Mrs. Andrews assured her. “If you'll excuse me, though, I need to tend to some baking in the kitchen. Feel free to spread out on the desk here in the office or, if you need more space, you're welcome to move into the dining room to use the table there.”

  Thanking the woman one more time, Ashley began flipping through the photos, examining each one carefully. Soon, she found what she'd suspected would be there after seeing the shadows that Ryan pointed out in the video stills. In one of the photos, she could see Rocky in the background of the shot, that explained why he looked so familiar when she ran into him at Chantelle's house. She had probably gotten a glimpse of him at the party without registering it. He was standing on the very edge of the lawn, right next to the debris from the video pictures. He was far enough away from the party guests that most of them probably hadn't noticed him, but there was no doubt that he had been at Estes Mount while Robin's guests were there. She took a cellphone picture of that shot and a couple of others before returning the photos to their folders.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ashley called out her goodbyes to Mrs. Andrews and hurried out to her car. She snapped her pet into her dog car harness, clicked her own seat belt, and quickly punched in the sheriff department's non-emergency number. She had to tell Mueller and Luna what she'd learned and the theory developing in her head.

  “Hi, Jeannie,” Ashley greeted the receptionist who answered her call. “I need to speak with Detective Luna or Sheriff Mueller right away, please. Tell them that it is about the Howard Andrews case.”

  Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, Ashley waited impatiently while her call was transferred. She turned the new possibilities over in her mind while the call was transferred. Finally, she heard a
man's voice over the line.

  “Good afternoon, Ashley,” Sheriff Mueller said. “I've put you on the speaker so that Detective Luna can also hear what you have to share. Jeannie said you have information about our murder case?”

  In the background, Ashley heard Luna mumbling something about “civilians” and “protocols.” She could imagine that he was grousing about her “interference” as he always did.

  “Yes,” Ashley answered. “I've spoken with Chantelle Roth a couple of times lately, and she gets enraged every time she encounters anyone connected to Estes Mount in any way. Then, a little while ago, I met her son, Rocky. He told me two things that I think are highly relevant to the investigation. First, he said that his mother blames Estes Mount for all the troubles she's having with her massage business, which seem to be pretty serious if the late notices on her desk are any indication. And, second, he told me that she plans to give him the house—which is mortgage-free, according to him—when she retires from the business. According to what he told me, he runs an online business from home. He wants the house so he can live and work in there, just like his mother does now.”

  “So?” Detective Luna barked. “And what does that have to do with Howard Andrews?”

  “A little patience, if you please, detective,” Ashley chided lightly. “I'm getting there, just hold on.” She paused to calm her irritation with the detective. She knew his snarky attitude wasn't personal. He didn't approve of any civilian having any part of a criminal investigation whether they were helpful or not. “I asked Rocky if he had ever been to one of the events at the venue, and he said that he hadn't. However, when I looked through the rehearsal dinner photographs, I found out that he lied to me. He showed up in one of the pictures, very clearly.”

  Ashley paused to gather her thoughts—should she tell them about possibly seeing Rocky on the video? That might get Andy in trouble, she decided, so she continued carefully, not volunteering the source of her information, “Rocky was in the back area of Estes Mount at the same time as Robin's guests when he had no reason to be there. There's no chance he or his mom was on the guest list. I think the two of them might have had something to do with Howard Andrews' death. They definitely had the opportunity, and just about anybody could have had the means—the man was pushed into a fish pond. And, on top of what I've already told you, Chantelle Roth's motive also included a $7,000 debt to Howard's business and the chance that she would lose everything, including the house, which gives Rocky a motive, too. Everybody I’ve talked to says that Chantelle really hated Howard Andrews.”

  “Ms. Adams,” the detective growled, “if no one makes a complaint, crashing a party is really not a police matter. You really need to stop poking your nose into this case. In fact, you need to stop interfering with all police investigations. You aren't trained for the job, and you're liable to compromise the evidence if ....”

  “I'm not compromising anything,” Ashley interrupted. She kept her voice low and soft so she wouldn't sound defensive or rude. “I haven't touched or moved anything, and I haven't asked anything that would make them think I have any suspicions about them. Mrs. Roth and I talked about different types of massages, and I asked Rocky the same questions I might ask anyone I'd just met. After the cases I've helped you solve, I think I’ve shown I know how to gather information without hurting the case or tainting the evidence. And you must admit that I have been helpful. So please don't take that arrogant, patronizing tone with me!” Despite her best efforts, her annoyance with the detective's attitude boiled over.

  “Whoa, there—let's all simmer down,” the sheriff cut in before Ashley could say anything more. “Ashley, hon, I've known you since ... well, actually, since before you were even born. I know that you are an intelligent and capable woman, and I agree that you have made some contributions to a few of our past murder investigations. And I know you wouldn't knowingly compromise any evidence or investigation. But Detective Luna is also right—you do need to step down from this case. It's dangerous for you to keep snooping around. There's a real chance that you'll ask the wrong person a question that makes him or her feel threatened, and then you could be hurt or worse. Let it go now and let us do our job. No more investigating for you, please.”

  “I'm sorry, Sheriff Mueller,” Ashley answered, politely but firmly, “but one of my best friends just lost her favorite uncle, and her fiancé thinks he is your prime—and only—suspect. I can't just sit around and watch Robin and Cash worry about their future. Robin deserves the chance to grieve without having to worry about losing someone else that she loves.” Ashley paused for a deep breath and then continued, “I'm going back to Estes Mount to talk to Graham. I want to ask him again about the problems he's had with the Roths, both mother and son. I'll call you to tell you what I find out. I promise—I won't go near them. I just want to speak to Graham one more time.”

  “Wait,” the sheriff called out loudly. “Luna and I will meet you there. We have a few things we need to check on with him, too. This time, though, stay in your car until we get there. Let's not repeat what happened the last time!” He reminded her how close she had come to being seriously injured at the very least, or possibly killed when she rushed in to confront a killer on her own recently.

  Ashley agreed, although reluctantly, and started the car. Driving to the Estes Mount, she thought about what she wanted to ask Graham about the Roths. She felt sure that he'd be able to shed some light on her suspicions although he probably didn't know what she knew—or something like that. She realized that she was confusing herself with her thinking. She also wanted to double-check how easy it was to access Estes Mount from Chantelle's house without the likelihood of being seen.

  The lawmen pulled the police cruiser into a parking space next to Ashley's car just as she turned off the ignition. The three went into the house together, but there was no sign of the manager anywhere. They checked all the public rooms as well as the staff lounge and manager's office, but they didn't find Graham. They climbed to the second and third floors, but they didn't find him in any of those rooms either. The guests who were in their rooms said he'd checked with them recently, but that they hadn't seen him for at least a half-hour.

  “That's odd,” Ashley said. “It's the middle of the work day. There's no way Graham would leave the place open and unattended, especially with guests in residence. I wonder where he is. We've checked the whole building, and I didn't see him outside when I looked through any of the windows. I guess he could be in the garden, though, and we just missed seeing him as we passed the windows.

  Just then, they heard an odd noise—a muffled shout and a thud out back. “What was that?” Ashley asked spinning toward one of the doors leading into the garden and rushing over to throw it open.

  “I'm not sure,” Detective Luna said, “but I think we'd better find out. Wait here, Ms. Adams. The sheriff and I will check it out, and then we'll resume the search for Graham.”

  “Fat chance,” Ashley retorted. “I'm not staying in here alone if there's something bad going on outside. With my luck no matter what it is, some bad guy will run from y'all into the house and catch me, alone and vulnerable. Let's go—it sounded like someone is in the back section of the garden. Someone may need help.”

  Indicating that Ashley should stay at the back of their group, the sheriff led them through the French doors and then down the cobblestone path that meandered through the property. As they approached the fish pond where Howard Andrews died, they saw two people struggling awkwardly to drag something bulky away from the path.

  “Police! Hold it,” the sheriff called out. “Stop where you are.” He and the detective hurried over to find out what was going on.

  Ashley held back a little, just in case, but as she caught up, she realized that Rocky and Chantelle had been trying to pull something large and heavy—make that someone—toward the pond.

  “That's Graham,” Ashley gasped. “He's unconscious! What did you do to him? What's going on here? Why is he
unconscious, and why were you dragging him around?”

  “You!” Chantelle snarled. “You keep turning up. Why can't you mind your own business? We'd have been finished and gone from here if you hadn't stuck your nose in.”

  “Mom,” Rocky called. “Shut up. Don't say anything else. Don't talk anymore.” For a minute, it looked like his mother would ignore him, but she finally nodded and clamped her lips together.

  “Ms. Roth,” Ashley replied. “When you attack a friend of mine, you make it my business. Why would you hurt Graham?”

  Ashley knelt beside the Estes Mount manager. “His pulse and breathing are strong, sheriff, but he needs medical care right away,” she told the lawmen. “He's been hit hard on the back of the head, maybe with one of those cobblestones. It looks pretty serious.” A memory tugged at her; suddenly, it became clear to her.

  “Sheriff, detective,” Ashley called out, “I just remembered something. There was a lump like this on Howard Andrews’ head when we pulled him out of the pond. I bet there's a stone somewhere near here with his blood on it and another one that they used to knock Graham out.”

  “I've already called for an ambulance,” Detective Luna told her. “The EMTs should be here any minute. Can you stay with the victim until help arrives? When our backup gets here, I'll call the crime scene team and get them to look around again.”

  “Of course,” Ashley answered, turning back to Graham. “Take care of what you need to do with those two creeps.” She listened and watched as Sheriff Mueller read both of the Roths their Miranda rights and handcuffed them before leading them to the parking lot. As they reached their vehicle, two more patrol cars and the ambulance arrived together, lights flashing, sirens blaring, and brakes screaming. The deputies helped position Rocky into the back of one car and Chantelle into the other while the EMTs checked Graham's vital signs and then loaded him into the ambulance and raced off to the hospital.