Ice Coffee Corruption, page 10
“I’ve heard so much about your place. I’ll have to stop by soon.” Evelyn, Aiken’s secretary, stepped forward.
“Please do,” I encouraged her, feeling the tension loosen a bit more. “I’d love to see you there.”
Kirk’s grin widened as he added, “In fact, Roxy is the one who found Jennifer.”
I saw a flash of surprise and concern in Evelyn’s eyes. “Oh my, that must have been quite a shock,” she said.
“Yes, it was,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “But I’m glad I was there to help in any way I could.”
Gary Adams leaned in slightly. “We appreciate everything the community does for one another. It’s a difficult time for us all.”
Susan Bennett nodded. “Jennifer was always so diligent and committed. Her loss is a big blow.”
Marcus Lee, though still reserved, added, “She was a key part of our team. This has hit us all hard.”
I took a bite of the deviled egg and savored its tangy richness as I tried to gauge the dynamics among the group. By the way their shoulders hung, I could see how Jennifer’s death clearly affected them all deeply.
“Well, if anyone can get to the bottom of what happened…” Kirk put a hand on my shoulder, and I stiffened at his touch. He must’ve noticed, because he immediately removed it.
“Roxy has a way of finding things out,” he said. “I have to say, she was ruthless as any colawyer of mine when it came to finding evidence on our team.”
“Oh, Kirk,” I said, trying to stop him.
“No, really. Aiken has really hired a top lawyer with you,” he said.
I looked up at the group and could see everyone appeared confused to hear Aiken had hired me. In reality, he hadn’t, and the idea stemmed back to the tale Kirk had made up in his own head when I talked to him this morning at the spa, which I didn’t correct him about.
Am I going to regret that? I thought as I planted a smile across my lips.
Kirk’s gaze was intense as he watched me.
The others excused themselves.
“It’s nice of you to have come,” Kirk said with a genuine tone.
I managed to keep my expression composed.
“Thank you,” I said, though the statement hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. I watched the board members and Aiken’s secretary as they worked their way around the room.
Kirk gave me a knowing look before he excused himself to speak with another guest. I took the opportunity to slip away from the main gathering. With the house full of people, it wasn’t difficult to blend in and disappear into the quieter parts of the Armstrong home.
The hallway was dimly lit by the soft glow from the wall sconces. I moved silently, my ears tuned to the distant hum of conversation, the clinking of dishes, and mainly to any noises that would get closer to me.
The smell of fresh flowers made my stomach curl. Something about funeral flowers didn’t smell appealing, and not an inch in the house was without some sort of arrangement.
I approached a closed door at the end of the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob, pushed it open, and revealed a small office.
Papers were neatly stacked on the desk, and a bookshelf lined one wall, filled with an assortment of business books and personal mementos. I began to sift through the papers, looking for anything that might provide a clue.
Primarily, I was hoping to find Jennifer’s day calendar if she had one.
As I rummaged through the desk drawers, I found a file labeled Event Planning. Inside were detailed notes about the upcoming events at the resort, including Jennifer’s meticulous planning for the employee event that was now canceled. I snapped a few photos with my phone for later review and to make sure the handwriting matched that on the back of the business card. I believed Mom, but I wanted to have more than enough evidence when I presented it to Spencer.
A creak from the hallway made me freeze. I listened intently, but the noise didn’t repeat. Moving quickly but quietly, I checked the bookcase, running my fingers along the spines of the books. One caught my eye—an old journal with Jennifer’s name embossed on the cover. I slipped it into my bag, deciding to look through it later.
I sucked in a deep sigh, wondering when true detective work crossed thin the line into stealing.
I turned to leave the office, but a voice stopped me in my tracks. “What are you doing in here?”
I spun around to see Dana, the cook, standing in the doorway. Her eyes were narrowed, and she seemed unusually tense.
“I… I was just looking for the restroom,” I lied, hoping my voice didn’t betray my nerves.
Wearing a sharp gaze, Dana stepped into the room. “The restroom is down the hall, to the left. This is private property. You shouldn’t be snooping around.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to sound apologetic. “I must have gotten turned around. It’s such a big house.”
Dana didn’t seem convinced, her eyes flicking to the desk and then back to me.
“Make sure you go straight to the restroom and then back to the gathering. We don’t need any more trouble tonight.” Her tone left no more room for discussion.
“Of course,” I said, nodding. “Thank you.”
I brushed past her, feeling her eyes on my back as I walked down the hall. My heart was pounding in my chest.
Once I was out of sight, I took a moment to compose myself. Dana’s reaction was odd—too guarded. She was definitely hiding something, my instincts told me.
I decided to take a quick detour to the restroom as a cover before heading back to the main room. As I washed my hands, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was getting closer to something significant, but I needed to be careful.
After giving myself some time, I was almost embarrassed that I’d gotten caught, so I decided it was time to exit. But I continued to repeat the board members’ names in my head.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea to check them out. Who knew? Maybe Jennifer was meeting one of them.
As with most things in Honey Springs, there was always a shortcut, and I knew of a connector road that led me to Pet Palace, which was also a distance from town.
Pet Palace, Honey Springs’s answer to a local SPCA, was run solely by volunteers and funded through donations. When I first signed up to volunteer there, I envisioned it as a fun and fulfilling experience. In reality, it was hard work, involving cleaning kennels and feeding and playing with the animals. But it was worth every moment.
The parking lot was empty as always when I got there later in the night. The staff were long gone, but they knew I would be there to finish the final chores.
Using my key, I let myself in and locked the door behind me. I checked my phone and noticed Patrick had sent me a text over an hour ago, asking me to let him know when I was on my way home.
The front room of Pet Palace had a welcome feel, thanks to the fireplace. I walked over and flipped on the switch to turn on the gas logs to warm my hands.
For a moment I got lost looking at the flames before a few yips and barks from the dog kennels caused me to smile as if they were reminding me why I was there.
I found my way back to the employee room, where I had a small cubby that contained my apron. I took off my jacket and slipped the apron over my head before I made my way to the back, where the kennels were lined up. The dogs greeted me with excited barks and wagging tails, their eyes full of anticipation.
“Hey there, Dolly,” I said, scratching a large black Labrador behind the ears. “You ready for dinner?”
I moved from kennel to kennel, making sure each dog had fresh food and water. As I worked, I chatted with the animals, which I found oddly therapeutic.
“Rosie, you look like you've had a long day,” I murmured to a small terrier mix, who responded with a happy bark.
The cats in the adjacent room were less vocal but just as eager for attention. I cleaned out their litter boxes, refilled their food dishes, and made sure they had plenty of water. A tabby named Mittens rubbed against my leg, purring loudly.
“Don't worry, Mittens. I’ll give you some extra treats,” I promised, reaching for the bag of catnip treats.
With the basic chores finished, I took a moment to sit by the fireplace until I heard the sounds of the animals settling down for the night. That was a sign they were all getting to sleep and that it was okay for me to leave.
I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace wash over me.
I took one last round through the kennels, saying goodnight to each animal. “Sleep tight, everyone. I'll see you next week,” I whispered before closing the door behind me and returning to the employee room to get my coat and other possessions.
I took my phone out and sent Patrick a quick text to let him know I had finished up and would be home shortly.
“Ugh,” I groaned when I saw the text was having a hard time being sent. The WiFi around here wasn't the best, and the night was turning out to be foggy, so I knew the message probably wouldn’t make it before I got home.
The fog had rolled in thick and heavy, shrouding the outside lights of the building in a hazy mist and muffling the typical nighttime sounds. I shivered as I walked to my car, the damp chill of the fog seeping through my coat. The night seemed darker than usual, the shadows stretching longer and deeper.
Just as I reached for my car door, someone clamped a hand over my mouth and yanked me back.
A cold, sharp blade pressed against my neck, freezing me in place. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breath came in shallow, panicked gasps.
“Stop snooping around, or you’ll end up like the scarecrow in your front yard,” a low, menacing voice hissed in my ear.
Fear surged through me, my mind racing. I couldn't see the person behind me, only feel their breath on my ear and the knife’s blade biting into my skin. I wanted to scream, to fight, but terror paralyzed me.
Suddenly, headlights cut through the fog, illuminating the parking lot. The person holding me tensed then dropped the knife and shoved me away. After stumbling, I caught myself on the hood of my car as the attacker disappeared into the darkness.
I gasped for breath, my hands shaking as I touched the spot on my neck that the knife had touched. The headlights drew closer, and I recognized the car as it pulled up next to mine. The driver’s-side window rolled down, and I saw Sheriff Spencer Shepard’s concerned face.
"Roxy, are you okay?" he called out, worry etched in his voice.
"Someone… someone attacked me. They had a knife."
Spencer jumped out of the car and rushed to my side. “Did you see who it was?”
I shook my head, still trying to steady my breathing. “No, they came out of nowhere and whispered a threat. They told me to stop snooping around.”
His eyes widened, his jaw tightening. “Let me check you out,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. He quickly scanned me for any injuries, his hands steady and professional. “You’re not hurt, right?”
I shook my head again, feeling the adrenaline continue to course through my veins. “No, I’m fine. Just… shaken.”
“Okay,” he said in a decisive tone. He reached for his radio. “This is Chief Spencer. I’ve got a situation at the Pet Palace. Need backup immediately. Possible suspect on foot, armed and dangerous.”
He turned back to me, his expression serious. “Get in my car, Roxy. You’ll be safe there.”
I nodded, allowing him to guide me to the sheriff’s car. He opened the door for me and helped me inside. The interior of the car felt secure, a stark contrast to the vulnerability I’d felt moments before.
“Locking you in for your safety,” Spencer said as he closed the door firmly behind me and engaged the locks. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Through the windshield, I watched as Spencer disappeared into the fog with his hand on his holstered gun, his silhouette barely visible in the thick mist. The red and blue lights of his car flashed silently, casting an eerie glow over the scene.
As I sat alone in the car, the events of the night replayed in my mind. The fog outside seemed even more menacing now, every shadow a potential threat. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
Minutes felt like hours as I sat and scanned the fog for any sign of movement. The fear that had gripped me was slowly succumbing to a determination to find out who was behind Jennifer's murder and why they wanted to silence me.
I started to mentally review the clues I had gathered so far. There were the pen and business card with the cryptic note, Jennifer’s stressed behavior leading up to the event, and the reservation for Arley Heatman. The connection to Aiken’s plans for the resort, Jennifer’s strange involvement, and her rental of a boat slip. Then there were the new details from Kirk and Jessica—Aiken being jumpy and Jennifer making everything perfect for some unknown reason.
Who had the most to gain from Jennifer’s death? Could it be one of the board members I had just met? They all had stakes in the Bee Happy Resort, and Aiken was the majority shareholder with the power to make significant changes. Evelyn Taylor, Aiken’s secretary, had access to all his plans and could potentially manipulate situations to her advantage. Gary Adams, Susan Bennett, and Marcus Lee each had reasons to try to ensure the success of the resort, especially if Jennifer knew something that could jeopardize those plans.
But then there was Dana, the family cook. She had seemed particularly shifty when she found me snooping around. Was that just because of grief, or did she know more than she was letting on? Was she involved in something deeper, something that Jennifer had stumbled upon?
My mind continued to race. As I was trying to connect the dots, the headlights of another car cut through the fog.
Spencer returned and opened the door.
“Couldn't find anyone, but backup is here, so they’ll keep looking. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe for now,” he said, helping me out of the car.
He led me back into the Pet Palace, where the familiar sounds of the animals provided a slight sense of security.
Inside the employee room, Spencer rummaged through a cupboard and found a packet of instant coffee. He prepared a cup quickly and handed it to me.
“It’s not Roxy Bloom coffee, but it should help calm your nerves,” he said, offering a sympathetic smile.
I took the cup, the heat warming my hands. Once I sipped the instant coffee, the familiar taste began to soothe my frazzled nerves.
Coffee had always had that effect on me. It was like a friend, grounding me and helping me focus. Each sip brought a little more clarity and steadiness, allowing me to gather my thoughts.
After a minute or two, Spencer’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and then looked up at me.
“I called Patrick. He’s on his way here now,” he said, his tone reassuring.
I nodded, feeling a bit more at ease knowing Patrick was coming.
“I texted him before I got attacked, but my cell’s reception is spotty up here,” I told Spencer.
“Now, I need to ask you some questions,” he replied, his tone turning serious again. “Anything you can remember might help. How tall was the person who attacked you? Male or female?”
“I… I don’t know. It happened so fast, and it was so dark.” I shook my head. Frustration evident in my voice, I added, “I was so caught off guard.”
“Okay, take your time,” Spencer encouraged. “Did they seem fit? Were they easily able to contain you?”
I thought back to the attack, trying to recall any details.
“They seemed taller than me, but I’m not sure by how much.” I blinked several times to get my mind working. “They were strong—that’s for sure. I couldn’t break free.”
Spencer nodded, jotting down notes.
“Did they have any distinguishing features? A scent, maybe? Anything you noticed?”
“I didn’t see them. They were behind me.” I closed my eyes, attempting to remember. “They smelled like… I don’t know, maybe cologne? It was faint but there.”
“Good,” Spencer said, writing that down. “Did they say anything else besides the threat?”
“No, just that I needed to stop snooping around,” I replied, my voice steadying.
Spencer continued with his questions, probing for any potentially useful detail regardless of its size. “What about their clothing? Did you see anything specific?”
I shook my head again. “No, it was all just a blur. I'm sorry, Spencer. I wish I could be more helpful,” I said tearfully.
“You've been helpful,” he reassured me. “Every little detail counts.”
The door to the Pet Palace opened, and Patrick rushed inside, his expression a mix of worry and relief when he saw me.
“Roxy!”
I stood up, feeling a surge of relief as he enveloped me in a protective hug. “I'm okay, Patrick. Just a bit shaken,” I said and nuzzled into his neck.
“We'll get through this,” he declared, his eyes meeting Spencer’s. “What's the plan?”
“Right now, we need to make sure Roxy is safe. We’ll get a patrol to keep an eye on your place tonight. And, Roxy, I want you to keep your phone on you at all times. If anything feels off, you call me immediately.” Spencer sighed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the sheriff of your town stationed a deputy outside of your house to keep you under surveillance after you’d been attacked, it was a little nerve-wracking.
That was why I was so tired when my alarm sounded at four a.m.
“Just call someone else to come in,” Patrick urged me from a sleepy state from the comfy bed. I usually loved to lie in that bed and keep safe in his arms there, but last night I’d gotten up every fifteen minutes to peep out the bedroom window to see if the deputy was still out there and awake.
Though it was dark outside, I could see the officer’s face glowing in the reflection of the phone in his hand, and I was happy to see that—just not happy enough to be able to fall asleep.
“I’ll be fine,” I told Patrick, whom I gave a kiss before I pushed up to the side of the bed and slipped my feet into my slippers.
