“Mr. Morton, do you believe that Brenda is capable of murder?”

  “I don’t think so, but with that temper of hers, you just never know.”

  “Do you have surveillance equipment here?” Chas looked around in the corners of the garage.

  “I think Al’s got some cameras that look into the office, cuz that’s where the cash box is, but you’ll have to ask Larry over there. He’s the manager.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Morton,” Chas said, turning to go.

  “Hope you catch whoever done it,” Heath raised a hand in farewell.

  The detective stared at him for a moment, then returned to his car, puzzled.

  CHAPTER TEN

  * * *

  “Oh geez!” Mattie jumped when Spencer materialized behind her in the kitchen. She was loading the dishwasher after she and Kaylee had lunch, and she nearly dropped the plate that she’d been holding. “What are you a ninja or something?” she caught her breath.

  “Something like that,” Spencer smiled faintly. “Is Missy around?”

  “She’s over at the cupcake shop. Chas wanted her to rest, but she insisted that she needed to work.”

  “That sounds like her,” Spencer nodded. “And Kaylee and Jasmine?”

  “Kaylee is down for a nap and Jasmine is home with the sniffles. Is this going to be like an everyday thing, you coming over to check up on things?” she sounded a bit impatient.

  “I often do. Why? Does it bother you?”

  “It just strikes me as kind of weird, and you never make any sound when you come in, so it scares me to death,” Matisse complained.

  “Sorry, I’m used to being quiet when I come in, in case Kaylee is asleep,” he shrugged. “And I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m actually a really nice guy.”

  “So I hear,” Mattie looked skeptical. “I have things well under control here, by the way. I don’t need supervision.”

  “So I hear,” Spencer mocked her gently. “Missy, Chas, and Kaylee are like family to me. I would lay down my life for them, or anyone they love. Yes, I’m going to check on them. I’ll try not to startle you, but you just have to get used to the fact that I’m going to be coming around. I’m not checking up on you or what you’re doing, I’m ensuring the safety and security of my family, and no one is going to stop me.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Mattie challenged, eyes flashing.

  “When it comes to keeping the Becketts safe, yeah, I am.”

  “Well, whatever,” Mattie waved a hand in his direction and went back to doing the dishes. “You do your thing and I’ll do mine and we’ll just try to stay out of each other’s way.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re so….” Spencer’s next words were cut off by the sound of an engine being gunned and a crash of broken glass.

  Mattie let out a startled yelp.

  “Go check on Kaylee and lock yourself in the nursery with her,” Spencer ordered, sprinting from the kitchen.

  Leaping over the back of the couch to get to the foyer more quickly, he darted out the front door. There was a broken window in the living room and black streaks of rubber on the circular drive left by the attacker. A vehicle turned off of the private lane and onto the main road before Spencer could see much, but he noticed that it was an old blue pickup truck. The license plate couldn’t be seen. Jogging back into the house, he looked for the object that had broken the window. It was a hunk of cement, and there was nothing distinctive about it. It also had a surface that would make it nearly impossible to find fingerprints. The best that he could hope for was trace DNA.

  After tapping a message to Chas, he headed upstairs to check on Kaylee and Matisse. When he opened the door, he saw Mattie put her finger up to her lips to shush him, but it was too late. The breaking window hadn’t awakened the sleeping child, but apparently, her Uncle Spencer coming in the door had.

  “Good job,” Mattie shot him a glance when she went to Kaylee’s pink shrouded princess bed to pick her up.

  “My bad,” Spencer wasn’t the least bit apologetic. “We can’t let her go in the living room, there’s broken glass.

  “What happened?”

  “Someone threw a rock through the front window,” he sighed. “I’m going to keep you two company until Chas gets here to investigate.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Mattie nearly dropped the toddler as she lunged toward Spencer with a delighted grin on her sleepy face. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will,” Spencer took Kaylee from her. “I’ll be here to make certain of that.”

  “Great,” Mattie muttered, bending down to pull up the covers on Kaylee’s bed.

  “You want a snack, Kaylee-girl?” Spencer asked, heading for the stairs.

  “Nack!” Kaylee hugged his neck.

  Mattie stared after them and sighed.

  **

  Missy stared longingly at the glasses of wine on the table in front of her. Echo and her husband, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman, a local, but world-renowned artist, had insisted that she and Kaylee stay with them until it was determined who had attacked their home. Kaylee and Jasmine were in bed, and the adults were having a late-night snack of wine and pizza.

  “Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a glass of wine,” Missy sighed.

  “That’s going to have to wait for a few months,” Echo chuckled. “At least now you can eat the pizza.”

  “There’s that,” Missy agreed, reaching for another slice. “And your veggies,” she looked over at the veggie tray that Echo had produced. Being vegan, she didn’t eat pizza.

  “Does Chas have any idea who threw the rock into your living room?” Kel asked.

  “Right now, he’s just hoping that it doesn’t have anything to do with the murder case that he’s working on. Apparently, Buster’s widow can be very vindictive.”

  “But why would she want to scare you like that?” Echo asked, dipping a piece of celery into a cup of peanut sauce.

  “He said he was questioning some people who might be a bit “sensitive” about the murder, whatever that means. You know how it is, he can’t say much when he’s actively working a case.”

  Kel nodded. “Brenda Brogan has a reputation for being pretty volatile. I heard people over at Betty’s diner talking about the case, and they all seemed to think that she probably did it.”

  “Why on earth would someone kill their own husband?” Missy wondered aloud, not knowing the details of the case. “And Buster seemed like such a nice man too.”

  “Usually when someone kills a family member, there’s an insurance policy involved,” Echo said in an offhand manner, dipping her celery.

  Kel and Missy stared at her.

  “What?” she asked, after taking a bite.

  “I’m sure Chas thought of that,” Missy looked at Kel.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Echo raised an eyebrow. “I know what that look on your face means, Melissa Beckett, and we are not going to get involved. We’re going to let Chas do his job and we’re going to stay out of that mess, no matter how nice Buster was,” she warned.

  Kel looked at Missy. “I have a friend who is an insurance broker. Chances are, if she took out a policy, he would know. Surely there’d be no harm in just asking a friend a few questions…”

  “No! Absolutely not,” Echo shook her head. “Besides, there are privacy laws…”

  “You never know when something might get casually left out on someone’s desk,” Kel shrugged.

  “Kel…” Echo admonished her husband.

  “Just a little chat,” he wheedled, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

  “Oh, come on, what harm could there be?” Missy chimed in.

  “What am I going to do with you two and your meddling?” she grinned wryly.

  “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Kel promised. “Movie time?” he asked.

  “Movie time,” Missy and Echo agreed in unison.

  **

  “Morning, Ed,” Kel greeted Edward Carstairs, Calgon’s most well-known insurance broker.

  “Phil Kellerman, it’s been ages,” Ed stood and shook Kel’s hand. “I hear you got married and started a family, congratulations.”

  “Thank you. How’s Mary Jane?”

  “Loving her retirement,” Ed chuckled, thinking fondly of his wife.

  “When are you going to retire, old man?”

  “When Timothy Eckels comes to get my cold, dead carcass out of this chair,” Ed let out a belly laugh and sat, indicating the chair across the desk from him for Kel. “What brings you in here, my friend?”

  “Bit of a sticky situation, actually,” Kel made a face.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. You know the Becketts? Chas and Missy?”

  “Certainly,” Ed nodded. “I’ve run into them at several community functions. Good people.”

  “The best,” Kel agreed. “As you know, Chas is a detective, and he’s working on a murder case.”

  “Murder? Really? I just got back into town yesterday. What happened? Is it anyone I know?” his face registered deep concern.

  “Probably, pretty much everyone knew him.”

  “Who was it?” Ed practically whispered.

  “Buster Brogan.”

  “Buster Brogan? That can’t be! That man was the salt of the earth. Had such a nice family too,” Ed shook his head sadly. “But, what does that have to do with me?”

  “Now, I can’t say for sure…” Kel began carefully. “But I would guess that somewhere in that big stack of unread messages that you’ve got sitting over there,” he pointed at Ed’s inbox. “There just might be a phone call from Mrs. Brogan.”

  Light dawned in the broker’s eyes.

  “And I can’t help but wonder…what day did she call, and what kind of number she might be calling about,” Kel continued.

  Ed nodded. “I would suspect that you are correct,” he reached for the pile.

  He flipped through more than half the stack, then extracted a message slip.

  “Thursday,” he said.

  “The day after the murder,” Kel observed. “Now, about that number…”

  “You know I can’t give out that kind of info, even to a dear friend,” Ed whispered.

  “I realize that. You’re a man of integrity, but let me ask you this…if one dollar was equivalent to a million dollars…what would we be talking about here?”

  Ed seemed to consider the question carefully, then slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of change, and tossed a quarter on the desk in front of Kel.

  “In case you need parking meter money,” he said, his gaze steady.

  “So, a quarter is what…parking meters cost these days?” Kel confirmed.

  “So it would seem,” Ed nodded, his face grave.

  “You’re a good man, Ed Carstairs,” Kel stood and shook his hand.

  “You too Phil. I hope they lock up…whoever did this horrific thing,” he grimaced.

  “Any way that you can delay payment on a claim when there are…special circumstances?” Kel asked casually on his way out.

  “If I’m informed by law enforcement that the deceased or the beneficiary is the focus of an investigation, payment can be delayed indefinitely.”

  “Good to know. Let’s have lunch soon, yes?”

  “Just tell me when, my friend.”

  **

  When Kel got back into the air-conditioned confines of his car, he pulled out his cell to call Chas and report his findings, in an “anonymous” way of course. Just as he was about to hit the button to dial, a car pulled up next to him. He was a bit worried, but not at all surprised to see Brenda Brogan and Heath Morton get out of the car and head into Ed’s office, scowls on their faces. Chas answered his phone just as the couple entered the office.

  “Hey Kel, busy day, what’s up?” the detective sounded distracted.

  “Just a tip. I’m sitting in front of Ed Carstairs’ insurance brokerage, and just saw Brenda Brogan and Heath Morton go inside.”

  There was a pause.

  “Are you telling me that you’re on a stakeout, Kel,” he asked grimly.

  “Not at all, my friend. I’m merely passing by and found the information interesting.”

  “Uh-huh,” Chas sounded more than a bit skeptical. “Well, thank you. Now please get out of there. I’ll check it out.”

  “Will do,” Kel agreed, backing his car out of the parking space.

  “And Kel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good work.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Kel chuckled. “Have a productive day.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  * * *

  Brenda Brogan’s family home was in a neighborhood of small, but tidy, homes. The white house with sunny yellow trim had well-kept flowerbeds out front, and weathered, but attractive, patio chairs on the cement slab next to the front door. There was an older woman sitting in one of the chairs, with a drink in one hand and a tiny dog in the other.

  “Hello,” Chas approached slowly, not wanting to frighten the woman or the dog. “I’m looking for Sylvia Harris.”

  “Well, you found her, handsome. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Detective Chas Beckett, Calgon PD, and I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all, you’ll be good company,” she cackled. “You want some lemonade?” she held up her glass, which was dripping with condensation.

  “Sure, I’d love some,” Chas agreed, not wanting to refuse her hospitality.

  “Elly!” Sylvia shouted. “Elly, come out here!”

  “Don’t go to any trouble,” Chas started to say.

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense, it ain’t no trouble to give a handsome man a glass of lemonade,” she shushed him.

  The screen door on the house opened and a younger woman came out. She gave Chas a curious glance, then turned to Sylvia.

  “Whatcha need, mama?” she asked.

  “Get the nice detective a lemonade, honey,” Sylvia waved her away.

  “Detective?” Elly’s eyebrows rose.

  “Mind your business now,” Sylvia scolded. “Go get him a drink.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Elly frowned, but did as she was told, which Chas found odd, given her age. The young woman looked to be in her early twenties, which would make her Brenda’s younger sister, by a few years.

  “That’s my youngest, Elly. She’s a good girl. Works down at the grocery to keep us afloat now that I can’t do nothing.”

  Elly came back out with a glass full of iced lemonade and handed it to Chas. Instead of going back in, she took a seat on the patio, in the last remaining chair.

  “You here to ask about Brenda?” she asked, not mincing words.

  “Yes, I am actually,” Chas nodded. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “She don’t have nothing to do with us no more. She hasn’t for years. Whatever she done, it’s all on her,” Elly announced.

  “Elly, I’m sure that the detective don’t want to hear about our family’s dirty laundry,” Sylvia frowned.

  “No, that’s good information, Ms. Harris,” Chas assured her.

  “Oh honey, call me Sylvia,” the woman smiled, showing teeth that hadn’t seen a dentist since grade school.

  “Thank you, Sylvia,” Chas returned her smile, then turned back to her daughter. “You’re Brenda’s sister?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Would you know anything about how her life with her husband has been lately?”

  “I know she didn’t treat him right. Buster Brogan was a fine man. Any girl in Calgon would be happy to have him and Brenda treated him like dirt.”

  “Did you ever hear her threaten him?”

  “No, she never let me come around to her house or nothing. She thinks she’s better than us, but I was at a bar one time and the bartender said he just pulled her off Buster and had to throw her out of the bar. Said she went at Buster like a cat, scratching and yelling, and told him she’d kill him.”

  “Did he say what the fight was about?”

  “Yeah,” Elly made a face. “She didn’t like the color of the car that Buster bought her for her birthday.”

  Chas nodded, saying nothing, then turned to Sylvia.

  “Has she always had a temper?”

  “Oh yes,” the older woman nodded. “She’s a fast talking one too. She can talk her way into and out of anything, so if she’s in some kinda trouble, you can bet that you ain’t gonna be able to pin nothing on her.”

  “Did you hear about Buster’s murder?” he asked.

  “Yessir, it’s a crying shame,” Sylvia shook her head and looked down at the scraps of ice cubes remaining in her glass.

  “Do you think that Brenda is capable of murder?”

  “I think that girl is capable of anything she puts her mind to, good or bad,” Sylvia said sadly. “She got straight A’s through nursing school, but I wouldn’t want her as my nurse.”

  “I think she did it,” Elly chimed in. “I thought that from the first time I heard it.”

  “Do you know her boyfriend, Heath?”

  “Yeah. I went to school with his baby brother. He’s a nice enough guy, I guess,” Elly shrugged.

  “Do you think that he could’ve helped her murder her husband?”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if she made him do it,” Elly made a face.

  “Made him do it?”

  “Yes sir, she has that poor man wrapped around her little finger. Made him put an addition on his house and everything. He does whatever she tells him to.”

  “Do you know Scooter Jones?”

  “Yeah, Scooter is one of Brenda’s little play toys too.”

  “Play toys?”

  “Yep. Brenda says jump, Scooter says how high.”

  “That’s true,” Sylvia nodded. “Poor man don’t know his elbow from a hole in the ground, but he’s as loyal as a hound dog to her and she’s just nice enough to keep him around.”

  “Do they have an…intimate relationship?” Chas asked delicately.