Chloe Cook Cozy Mystery Bundle Page 4

  “Mom, you’re not getting old. You’re only--”

  Amanda jumped in quickly. “Thirty-nine.”

  Chloe laughed. “Yeah, for the twenty-third time.”

  Amanda shushed her daughter. “Hush. You know I’ll never get older than thirty-nine.”

  “What are you going to do when I actually turn thirty-nine in a few years?” Chloe asked.

  Chloe thought she’d be able to stump her mother with that one. Instead, Amanda didn’t skip a beat.

  “You know I don’t like thinking that far ahead. I’d rather think about right now,” Amanda replied.

  “You know how your mother is about refusing to let age get the better of her,” Robert Cook said.

  Chloe’s father Robert approached getting older a different way, with beer and a sense of humor. That’s how he’d made it through thirty years working at the admitting desk in the emergency room at Cape Cod General Hospital.

  Robert was a good man—honest, dependable, and one who didn’t take life too seriously. The ability to roll with the punches had served him well, especially as the only man in a house full of women.

  “There’s another word for that,” Grandma Betty said.

  “Optimistic?” Amanda replied.

  “I was actually going to go with stubborn,” Betty continued.

  Grandma Betty was in her early eighties but showed little sign of age. That was remarkable considering all she’d been through. Six years ago, she lost her husband of fifty-two years to a stroke. A lot of people couldn’t recover from a loss like that. Grandma Betty herself openly admitted that depression almost got the best of her.

  Then Betty thought about her husband Gary’s favorite saying ‘Life is meant to be lived.’ So instead of just waiting to be reunited with Gary in heaven, Betty put herself back out there. She started taking water aerobics classes at the local pool, taught piano lessons a few times a week to the neighborhood kids, and added some quilting and book club meetings for good measure.

  In fact, the only thing that had slowed down with age was Betty’s ability to hold her tongue. She was an absolute spitfire sometimes.

  “I wonder where I got that stubborn streak from?” Amanda joked.

  “Guilty as charged, and proud of it,” Grandma Betty said.

  “Is there anything you’re not proud of?” Amanda wondered.

  “Not that I can think of, but I’ll let you know if anything pops into my mind,” Grandma Betty declared.

  Amanda smiled and shook her head.

  Chloe then noticed her father quietly eating, staying safely out of the fray.

  “Dad, you’re pretty quiet over there,” Chloe said.

  “Yeah, because I want to stay married,” Robert joked.

  Amanda smiled. “I’ve trained you well, haven’t I?”

  Robert nodded. “It took me twenty years to catch on, but once I did, I sometimes know it’s best just to keep my mouth shut.”

  “It’s amazing to think you two will be married thirty-five years this fall,” Chloe said.

  “Wow. When you say it like that, it does sound impressive,” Robert replied.

  Amanda became self-conscious. “It also makes me feel old.”

  Robert tried to lighten the mood.

  “What are you talking about? You’re only thirty-nine,” he joked.

  Amanda smiled. “That’s why we’ve been married so long.”

  Chloe was confused. “Because dad is happy to lie about your age too?”

  “Because I know the key to a happy life is having a happy wife,” Robert said.

  Grandma Betty jumped in. “Truer words have never been spoken. Except maybe ‘Hell hath no fury like shoppers at a Black Friday sale’. Or, ‘There’s no such thing as sleeping in when you own cats’. Then again, I’ve always been partial to ‘Never go shopping for pie on an empty stomach’.”

  “Said like a true philosopher mom,” Robert joked.

  Grandma Betty eyed the birthday pie Chloe had brought over. “Or, someone with delicious plans for that pie.”

  “Can we get back to the topic here?” Amanda asked.

  “What topic is more important than pie?” Grandma Betty wondered.

  “A happy marriage.” Amanda then turned to Chloe. “That’s what I want for you one day.”

  “Aren’t you jumping the gun a little bit, mom? I’m a husband, wedding, and honeymoon short of that scenario,” Chloe said.

  “For now at least. But that might be about to change,” Amanda insisted.

  “Uh oh. Why do I get the feeling you’ve come down with a bad case of matchmaker fever?” Grandma Betty joked.

  “Hey, it’s my birthday, and I’ll play matchmaker if I want to,” Amanda said.

  “Do I get a say in this?” Chloe asked.

  “Just hear me out,” Amanda replied.

  “That’s never a good start,” Chloe joked.

  “He’s a doctor,” Amanda continued.

  “That’s better. What kind of doctor?” Chloe wondered.

  “A podiatrist.”

  Chloe bit the corner of her lip.

  “What’s the matter?” Amanda asked.

  “I always thought it was weird that of all the specialties out there, something would want to touch a bunch of strangers’ feet all day,” Chloe explained.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not the official job description they go with in the podiatrist recruiting catalog,” Amanda said.

  “Doesn’t anyone else wonder what makes someone want to devote their life to becoming a foot expert?” Chloe asked.

  “It could be worse. There are much stronger body parts to specialize in,” Grandma Betty said.

  “Mom, don’t even go there,” Robert insisted.

  “I’m just saying,” Grandma Betty replied.

  Amanda jumped back in. “Why don’t you ask Dylan about that on your date?”

  Chloe became uncomfortable. “Ask him about what exactly?”

  “Why he became a podiatrist?” Amanda said.

  Chloe raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. That sounds like great date conversation.”

  “Look, if you just give Dylan a shot, you might really like him. He came really highly recommended from Wanda Winger,” Amanda said. She could see her daughter’s reluctance. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s just that Wanda is a divorce lawyer,” Chloe replied.

  “And?”

  “I’m not sure I should be taking dating recommendations from someone that makes their living from marriage’s going south.”

  Amanda sighed. “Suit yourself. Pass up a date with a perfectly good man. Ask yourself this, how often does a single doctor come around? If I were you, I’d jump at this chance before it’s gone.”

  Grandma Betty laughed. “Amanda, you may have retired, but your salesmanship sure hasn’t.”

  “Once a Crissy’s girl, always a Crissy’s girl I guess,” Robert added.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll think about it,” Chloe said.

  Amanda would have tried selling her daughter on the date all night, but at that moment, Betty’s stomach took precedence.

  “That’s a good enough answer for me. Now let’s not let a good pie go to waste,” Grandma Betty said.

  Chapter Ten

  When Chloe arrived home, she felt tired enough to sleep for days. Suddenly she regretted all that talk about Cloudipedic mattresses. A heavenly night of sleep on a memory foam bed had never sounded more appealing. Unfortunately, a three thousand dollar mattress was well out of her price range. She’d have to make do with the well-worn bed she had in her room. Ironically, the mattress in her bedroom had been in her life longer than her last boyfriend. That was a point she probably didn’t want to linger on.

  While Chloe’s mind was on sleep, her Welsh Corgi Rufus gave her a hero’s welcome.

  “Hi Rufus, did you miss me?” Chloe asked.

  Talk about an understatement. Rufus had his tongue out as his tail wagged furiously. He was bouncing around like he h
adn’t seen her in a month instead of just this morning.

  Chloe continued. “I missed you too honey.”

  It was hard not to be in a good mood when around a corgi. They were such energetic and joyful dogs. In addition, when their mouths were open, and their tongues were out, they looked like they were smiling. Rufus was no different. Although at that moment, he had more than smiling on his mind.

  Rufus grabbed a tennis ball from the living room and plopped it down. Chloe knew what that meant.

  “Alright, boy. Fetch it is then,” Chloe said.

  Chloe had always loved dogs, but one had never adored her quite as much as Rufus. She figured that was because Rufus was a rescue. When she saw him at the pound two years ago, she couldn’t believe someone had abandoned him in the first place.

  He was an irresistibly cute pup. His legs were even stumpier back then. He also had two satellite dish ears, including one that was folded down for the longest time. It was so cute.

  The man working at the pound said that rescues were the most loyal, loving, and appreciative of all pets because they knew what it was like not to have a home. Chloe had found that to be totally true.

  Her little boy’s endless excitement and love had gotten her through some rough times, both during her breakup and afterward.

  Even now, after all the stress of the day, a little game of fetch and a generous dose of pets were enough to turn Chloe’s attitude around.

  “Feeling good now, Rufus?” Chloe asked.

  Chloe could tell Rufus was getting tired, and that it wouldn’t be long before he drifted off to sleep. With that, Chloe decided to hit the sack, all the while praying that drama was behind her.

  “What do you say we make tomorrow a lazy day?” Chloe added.

  It turned out life had other ideas.

  ***

  Chloe woke up to quite a scandal. She always checked the news on her smartphone when she got up to see if any weird or interesting things had happened overnight. The local Cape Cod news was usually relatively quiet. That was just how she liked it.

  Not today. That morning, Walter Gold’s face was splashed all over the local news, as was Candice McDowell’s. It looked like Marty Diamond had made good on his threat from the barbecue yesterday to bring Candice’s story to light.

  Chloe called Kristina immediately to talk about the bombshell of a story she’d just read.

  Chloe waited impatiently as Kristina didn’t pick up her phone. After the call had gone to voicemail, she left a frantic message.

  “Kristina, did you see this Candice McDowell story on the internet? It’s crazy stuff. Call me back as soon as you get this,” Chloe said.

  Chloe then hung up her phone and shot off a text to Kristina as well for good measure.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, Kristina still hadn’t answered either the call or the text. That didn’t sit well with Chloe. Kristina didn’t always answer her calls, but she was usually quick as could be at returning texts.

  Something wasn’t right. Chloe could feel it. While she waited for Kristina to respond, she read the Candice McDowell story again. It was a doozy. According to the report, Candice was the illegitimate daughter of Walter Gold, springing from an extra-marital affair he had twenty years ago with his accounts payable clerk at work.

  Apparently Walter had been paying hush money to Candice’s mother for over two decades. Walter probably figured he’d be able to keep this story under the radar forever. So imagine his shock when somehow Marty Diamond, his chief rival, was able to dig it up when Walter had been able to put one over on his wife and family for so long.

  No wonder things got so heated at the barbecue yesterday. Chloe could only imagine how fierce the rivalry would get between Walter and Marty now with this story out in the open.

  ***

  Just then, Chloe got another surprise. There was a knock on her front door. How curious. Chloe wasn’t expecting anyone. Who could it be?

  Whoever it was, they were persistent. They knocked again, this time harder and louder.

  Chloe approached the door and looked through the peephole. What she saw sent chills down her spine. It was the police. There were two deputies standing on her patio.

  Her mind started racing. They must have come to the wrong place. What could they want with her? She wasn’t eager to find out.

  As the deputies knocked on her door a third time, she knew she couldn’t stall any further. She opened the door. It was such an imposing sight, having two fully armed police officers right in front of her.

  “Can I help you?” Chloe asked.

  The burlier of the two deputies spoke up. He was tall and brawny, with a crew cut and a stoic gaze. The name tag on his uniform read “S. Stanton”.

  “Are you Chloe Cook?” Deputy Stanton asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “You were at the Marty’s Mattress Mart employee appreciation barbecue yesterday, weren’t you?” Stanton continued.

  Chloe nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “The detective wants to talk to you,” Stanton insisted.

  Chloe was more confused than ever now. The deputies weren’t volunteering any information to shed light on the situation either.

  “Detective? What detective? Do you want to tell me what this is about?” Chloe asked.

  “The murder of Marty Diamond.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The deputies took Chloe to the parking lot of Marty’s Mattress Mart, which was swamped with police officers. Chloe was still trying to process the news that not only was Marty dead, but someone had murdered him.

  It was sensory and emotional overload. Chloe couldn’t believe she was at a crime scene. Yellow police tape blocked off the area directly surrounding Marty’s body. Chloe didn’t want to look, but like a car crash, she couldn’t peel her eyes away.

  It was then that Chloe spotted Kristina. At least now Chloe had an answer why Kristina hadn’t answered her phone or text. Unfortunately, the reason was grim. By the looks of it, the drama continued long after Chloe and Kristina left the barbecue yesterday, with killer results.

  Chloe didn’t like the fact, and she, and her friend were anywhere near a murder investigation, no less in the middle of one. That being said, Kristina seemed to be taking things even worse than Chloe.

  “Oh no. They got you too?” Kristina asked.

  Chloe nodded. “Imagine my surprise when I woke up to two police officers at my door this morning.”

  Kristina grimaced. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “How?”

  “At least I’m not Marty Diamond,” Chloe said.

  Kristina winced.

  Deputy Stanton then interrupted Kristina and Chloe.

  “The detective is ready for you now,” Deputy Stanton said.

  “You still haven’t told me why he wants to see me,” Chloe insisted.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Deputy Stanton answered.

  ***

  The deputy added Chloe and Kristina to a lineup that included all the usual suspects. There was Marty’s wife Delia, his son Stewart, his son’s girlfriend Lucy Lemke, Marty’s receptionist Jennifer Carter, his chief rival Walter Gold, and his nephew—the mystery man.

  Detective Todd Thicke approached. Todd was a bulky, bespectacled man in his mid-fifties with a round face that matched his beer belly. The detective had the frame of someone that once had an athletic body, but who had spent too many days at his desk gobbling up donuts, and not enough days burning off those calories on the beat. As a whole, Todd looked like he’d seen better days. The job of a detective was a stressful one that made a person world-weary in a way that only getting shot at for a living could.

  The detective wasted no time. He got right into the investigation.

  “Marty Diamond was murdered here last night. He was a man you all knew, and who you attended a barbecue with yesterday. My men have found the knife that killed Marty. It’s only
a matter of time before I discover who the killer is. I believe that person is here right now, and I will not rest until I find out who they are. Knowing that, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. Would anyone like to come forward and admit their guilt?” Detective Thicke said.

  The lineup was dead quiet.

  The detective sighed. “The hard way it is then.”

  Detective Thicke approached Delia Diamond first. “Mrs. Diamond, where were you between ten and eleven o’clock last night?”

  Chloe watched Delia’s reply closely. Delia’s mood could go either way. She could play the role of a grieving widow, the liberated housewife, jilted wife, or a little mixture of everything. Delia’s choice was rather surprising, considering she was embroiled in a murder investigation. Instead of remorse, she opted for cold and standoffish.

  “I was at home,” Delia answered.

  “Alone?” the detective asked.

  “Yes. Why does that matter?”

  “Because it means you have no one to verify your story.”

  “I don’t need anyone to. I’m telling the truth,” Delia said.

  “I wish I could believe you,” the detective replied.

  “What makes you think you can’t?”

  “How about the fact that you’re a murder suspect? Let me tell you, it’s amazing what people will say when their back is against the wall.”

  “I didn’t kill my husband if that’s what you’re implying,” Delia said.

  “When was the last time you talked to him?”

  “At the barbecue.”

  “Really, that long ago?”

  Delia became confrontational. “I already answered your question.”

  “It just seems like a long time for a husband and wife to go without talking to each other. Then again, you did just find out yesterday that your husband was cheating on you with his receptionist,” Detective Thicke said.