Tick,Tock,Trouble (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 5) (2 page)

“I’ve got things to do on this side of town,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Sadie and Mr. B. hurried home through the brisk morning. A bank of clouds was rolling in from the west and cold rain spit down at them in showers. They were moving quickly and made it back to the shop in record time – even with a pit stop in the park for Mr. B.

They hurried back across the street, thankful to bang through the door into the warm shop. Betty, Sadie’s shop assistant, was at the register as they blew in and she gestured to Sadie.

“Justin Ives is in your office,” Betty said quietly. “He’s very upset about Tamsin. I thought you’d like to know before you went in there.”

Sadie took a deep breath. She liked the junior professor from the community college, but he did tend to be embroiled in whatever the local trouble happened to be. He had a talent for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She let Mr. Bradshaw off his leash and marched into her office.

“Dr. Ives,” she said as she entered, “what a pleasant surprise. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No thanks, Ms. Barnett. I really just need to talk to you.”

He stood up as she came in the room and his glasses, which had tape wrapped around the nose piece, started to fall. He pushed them up with a finger.

“Just give me a minute,” she said.

She shed her jacket and hung the leash on a hook near the door. Then she spun her chair around and sat facing the young man.

“Tell me what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this time. I suppose it has to do with Tamsin Woo’s death?”

“How did you know?” he asked.

“How do you always know?” His response sounded bewildered and Sadie had to stop herself from laughing.

“Oh, Dr. Ives, it’s not that difficult. Now tell me.” She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees.

“Well, about a month ago I was parked out in front of Town Hall and Tamsin lost control of her car and totaled my VW,” he started, pushing up his glasses again.

“Your Bug? That’s too bad,” Sadie said.

“Her insurance had lapsed,” he said, grimacing.

“Which you wouldn’t think would be a problem because the Woos are rolling in it, but she claimed there was a mechanical fault with her car and it wasn’t her fault. She said I’d have to take it up with the manufacturer.” He shook his head.

“Crazy woman. She wrecked my car and then gave me a bunch of grief about it.”

“Did she not pay?” Sadie said.

“No.” He sounded indignant and used a knuckle to adjust his glasses.

“And so I tried to sue for damages, but her lawyer keeps making objections and stalling the proceedings. It’s costing me a fortune in legal fees. I know he’s hoping I’ll just drop it after a while because it’s costing so much.”

“And now she’s dead,” Sadie said.

“Yes. Now she’s dead.” He was silent for a moment.

“Her lawyer accused me of killing her. He went to Chief Woodstone and asked him to arrest me.”

“And did he arrest you?” Sadie raised her eyebrows.

“No. He said there was no evidence and he wasn’t going to start arresting people based on speculation. But that doesn’t mean he won’t arrest me later.”

He dropped his head in his hands and his glasses fell off and landed in his lap.

”I don’t know what to do.”

He picked them up and looked at them with disgust before sliding them back on his face.

“First off, stop being such a drama queen,” Sadie said.

“It makes it hard for people to take you seriously.” She sat up and grabbed a pad of paper and pen from her desk.

“I take it you want two things?” She asked.

“Two things?” he sounded bewildered.

“Yes, two things. You want your car replaced and you want not to be tried for murder. Except that’s a negative goal. You want…” she thought for a minute.

“I read somewhere that goals should be stated in the positive. Negative goals just muddy the waters. So I think your goals should be something like this, you want to be found not guilty - and you want your car to be replaced. Do you want restitution for the harassment, too?”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she said.

“You are a college professor. Surely you understand the concept of restitution?” He looked at her blankly.

“Do you want her estate to pay you for the time you’ve spent without a car because her lawyer was harassing you?” She looked at him pointedly.

“I’d be happy just to have my car back,” he said. “Well, and not to go to prison for a murder I didn’t commit.”

“Fine.” She handed him a piece of paper.

“This is the number of the local justice league. Call them and tell them what happened and what you want. See,” she pointed to the paper, “I wrote it down so you wouldn’t get flustered and forget.”

“But I can’t afford to pay them,” Justin said. His glasses slid down his nose and he tried ignoring them.

“That’s what they do,” she said.

“If they think they can win your case for harassment or lost wages for not having your car, they will add their fees to the settlement. Either her lawyer or her estate will pay. And personally, I hope they make that lawyer pay. There’s nothing I hate more than the privileged taking advantage of the underprivileged.”

“I’m not underprivileged,” he said.

“No, except when compared to Tamsin Woo, you are.” She patted his knee.

“Do you have enough extra money around to replace your car?” she asked.

He shook his head and his glasses fell off. He picked them up and held them in his hand.

“She did. So in comparison you are underprivileged. The moral thing for her to do would have been to replace your car immediately. Then if she had issues with her car she could have taken it up with the manufacturer. Placing that on you was wrong.” She looked at him.

He nodded and got up. “Thanks, Ms. Barnett,” he said. “You always know what to do.”

“And if you pay attention, when you get to my age you’ll know, too,” she said. “You just lack confidence and life experience.”

She shepherded him out of her store, the paper tight in his hand.

“Get your glasses fixed,” she said to his retreating back, then turned to Betty.

“I despair of that child ever growing up,” she said.

“He’s a little old to be called a boy, don’t you think?” Betty asked.

“He’s an eight-year-old in a man’s body.” Sadie shook her head.

“Can tell you anything you want to know about history, but can’t function in the modern world.”

Chapter Two

That evening Sadie and Mr. Bradshaw waited in the office until Zack knocked on the shop door. He was on the sidewalk with a Chinese takeout bag in one hand and a DVD case in the other. Sadie let him in and Mr. B put his front paws on Zack’s legs, his tail quivering in greeting. Mr. Bradshaw had decided Zack was family and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t at the shop every day.

Zack held up the DVD. “I brought
The Pink Panther
,” he said.

“The original with Peter Sellers. Not the Steve Martin version, we can save that one for later.”

They trooped up the stairs to the apartment and Sadie grabbed plates, cutlery, and two glasses and put them on a tray. She placed a bottle of wine from the fridge under her arm and carried the wine and tray into the living area where Zack was setting out the food.

They ate their way through the first half hour until Inspector Clouseau fell on his wife in the closet and Zack nearly inhaled an egg roll. Sadie patted him on the back.

“Ugh, I wish he wouldn’t keep trying to force her to drink,” Sadie said. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I wish she wouldn’t smoke on that tiger,” Zack said. “They are going to set that place on fire.”

“Here we go,” Sadie said as David Niven tried moving the unconscious Capucine and ends up dragging her from the room on the tiger skin.

“If it weren't for the dead animal that would be funny.”

“You have to suspend your twenty-first-century sensibilities when you watch movies from the sixties,” he said.

“But you’re right, it’s not as funny as I remembered it. Do you want me to turn it off?’

“No,” she said. “It’s curious. I’m kind of interested to see if it can make me laugh.”

“As long as you aren’t just humoring me,” he said.

“No, I want to watch, but can we pause for just a minute? I want to tell you something,” she said.

He picked up the remote from the coffee table and paused the movie.

“It’s Justin Ives,” she said.

“I don’t know why he’s always wrapped up with people who die, and I can’t explain it, but I don’t think he would kill Tamsin over a car. I definitely would inflict harm over the shit she pulled, but not Justin. He doesn’t have it in him.”

“No, I agree,” Zack said.

“I think he has unfortunate timing and really bad luck, but I don’t think he’s a murderer. I have to keep him on my list, of course, but unless some really compelling evidence turns up I’m not going to waste my time pursuing him.”

Sadie nodded. “I feel better now,” she said and snuggled into the crook of Zack’s arm.

He’d rested it along the back of the couch and Sadie took that as an invitation – even if it wasn’t one.

“Okay, hit play and let’s see if this can make us laugh.”

“I remember this having a lot more police procedure than it does,” Zack said. “Maybe I’m thinking of the later movies.”

“I’m pretty sure you weren’t watching for police procedure when this came out. What were you four or something?” Sadie asked.

Zack laughed and started to say something, but his phone rang so he paused the movie again to answer. There was a lot of nodding and grunting before he said, “I’m on my way,” and clicked off the phone. He looked at Sadie with regret.

“I’ve got to go,” he said. “There have been developments.” He started extracting himself, but Sadie grabbed his arm.

“Take me with you,” she said. “Then we can still have date night.”

“How can we do date night if I’m questioning a suspect?” he asked. “That’s a little bizarre even for you, Sadie Barnett.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Sadie said.

“Take me with you. You won’t regret it. I can stand around telling people ‘that’s my man,’ all the women will be jealous.”

He looked at her in mock annoyance. “How is it you always can push me around?” he asked.

“All right. Come. But don’t blame me if you’re bored to death.”

Sadie left Mr. B at home in his basket and followed Zack out to his jeep. They drove out to the highway that ran along the coast and headed south to the confluence of major roads that sported a group of businesses that catered to travelers. He parked in the lot in front of a restaurant called
Chomps
.

“I’m not going to bother to tell you to stay here,” he said. “But I do expect you to stay out of the way and out of trouble.”

“I’m hurt you felt you needed to say that,” she said, and punched him on the arm. “I never interfere with your investigations.”

“No, you just try to run them. Come on.”

They climbed from the jeep and made their way into the steakhouse. It was dimly lit and smoky from meat cooked over an open flame.

“They need a better ventilation system in here,” Zack said.

“I think they do it on purpose for the ambiance,” Sadie said. “It’s like having dinner in a barbecue pit.”

Zack stopped at the reception area and flashed his badge. The hostess grimaced and led the way through a very bright and clean kitchen to the manager’s office. Inside was one manager and one dishwasher. The dishwasher’s white apron was wet and he was scowling at the manager who was trying his best to ignore him.

“What have we got?” Zack asked.

The manager stood up and ushered them out into the hall, closing the door behind them.

“I overheard Reggie,” he nodded toward the door to indicate the young man sitting inside, “telling the busboy that Tamsin Woo deserved to die. I know that doesn’t prove anything, but I thought you might want to investigate. Tamsin was one of our best clients. She was a Saturday night regular and spent several hundred dollars a week here. If he had anything to do with her death, I want him to hang for it.”

“We’ll take it from here,” Zack said.

He radioed to see when a squad car was expected and then engaged the manager in idle talk while they waited.

Sadie would have rather been inside with the dishwasher, Reggie, but she leaned against the wall and waited as patiently as she could while Zack talked sports. She noticed he occasionally glanced at the time clock behind the manager and thought he was also impatient for the squad car to get there. He couldn’t transport a suspect in his jeep with Sadie. Actually, she thought he probably couldn’t transport a suspect in his jeep at all. It would be too easy for the person to escape.

When the squad car finally arrived Zack led Reggie out through the back door and handed him over to Officer Wilson, who loaded him into the back of the cruiser. Sadie and Zack followed them back to the stationhouse in Seagrove. Zack led Sadie into a room fitted with a monitor and speakers so they could watch Wilson begin the interrogation.

Reggie was visibly shaking, so much so that Sadie wondered if he was actually cold. He was wet from washing dishes, after all. But then she noticed they had let him change his clothes and he was dry. It was nerves then.

“Do you know why you are here?” Wilson asked, sitting across from the young man. She offered him a bottle of water, which he took.

Reggie nodded. “I said Tamsin Woo deserved to die. But that doesn’t mean I killed her. I was just talking, man.”

“Saying a woman who recently was murdered deserved it is ‘just talking’? Surely you must understand we are looking for her murderer?”

“I wasn’t thinking, brah. She was a nasty piece of work and I wasn’t surprised someone killed her, that’s all. I'm not a killer.” He was still trembling.

Wilson went on questioning Reggie, asking him where he was at the time of the murder and the other usual questions.

"What do you think?" Zack asked Sadie.

"Do you think he's guilty?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. If he is, then he's incredibly stupid." Sadie thought for a moment.

"You know, I can't get a read on him. He's shaking like a leaf, so he's either scared or faking it. He could be scared and guilty, or just scared. It's hard to say. Can you find out why he thinks Tamsin was a nasty piece of work?" Zack picked up the phone and relayed a message to Wilson.

A moment later Wilson said, "And what made you think Tamsin Woo deserved to die?"

"I told you, brah," Reggie said. "She was nasty."

"What did she do to you?” Wilson asked.

“To me?” He thought a minute.

“Nothing to me personally. But she’s miserable to the servers and she never tips. My girl Joanna got fired because the Woo woman said she got her order wrong. Who gets you fired for that?”

He was lying. Sadie saw the moment he deviated from the truth. He put his right hand on his left bicep, crossing his body and his face froze in a false smile. She looked at Zack. He nodded, of course, he had seen it, too. Something had happened but not to Joanna and Sadie wasn’t sure who really got fired, or if anyone did.

“We should go talk to the manager,” Sadie said. “And find out what really happened.”

“I agree,” Zack said, “but not tonight. The rush will be starting and they won’t thank us for making life harder for them. They open at eleven, we’ll go then before the lunch rush.”

“Okay,” Sadie said. “What will you do with him?” she pointed at the monitor.

“We’ll hold him until we find out the truth and then decide if we can charge him. It’s hard to say what’s really going on with him.”

He opened the door and held it for Sadie. They walked to the front of the stationhouse where Zack dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked.

“No, you have work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek.

“Pick me up at 10:45?”

“Yes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sadie walked quickly back to the shop, planning to take Mr. Bradshaw out for a walk in the park before bedtime. However, as she pulled her key from her pocket, Hamilton Cartwright stepped out of the shadows and stood between her and the shop door.

“Hamilton,” Sadie nodded curtly at him. “
Timeless Treasures
isn’t open at this time of night.”

“I’m not here to shop, Sadie,” he said.“I believe you have something that belongs to me. I’ve come to get it back.”

“What are you talking about, Hamilton? I don’t remember buying anything for you.”

She was calculating the time it would take her to unlock the door. There was no way she could dodge past him and get through the door without him following right behind her.

“I want the watch, Sadie. I know you have it. You are the only person she would trust with it.” He loomed large in front of her.

Sadie had to stop herself from stepping backward. He was trying to intimidate her, but she would not let him see one once of fear. She looked up at him in defiance.

“I do not have the watch, Hamilton,” She said. “Please leave.”

“If you don’t have it now, you will. I want it.” His voice was grim.

“Do you have a bill of sale?” she asked.

She supposed she could call Zack. Or run around to the back of the building. She looked at his legs. She would never be able to outrun him. His legs were twice the length of hers.

“No, I don’t have a bill of sale. It was a private transaction.” He glared at her.