Inside Out: A Heather's Forge Cozy Mystery, Book 5 Read online

  We all paraded out to the secret society’s private coach and buckled into the van. I directed Rose to drive into town. We found the trail headed up the mountain to Harold Hart’s old house.

  “I found the killer’s footprint here.” I pointed to the ground. “You can climb up on that tree right there and get a clear view of the jacuzzi where he died.”

  The women climbed up one by one. They oohed and ahhed at the view. “You can see straight into the gazebo. He must have never known what hit him.”

  “Yes, it was a messy situation,” I told them. “I found him dead like a stewed beet in a saucepan.”

  They all exploded in laughter at the thought.

  “It wasn’t funny at the time,” I went on. “I’d hosted a costume party at the inn the night before, and he dropped part of his costume. I came over to return it and found him propped up in steaming hot water.”

  They alternated between staring at me with their eyes bugging out of their heads and chattering to each other about how amazing it all was. I’d never really considered solving those mysteries amazing. Now I got a front-row view of what they looked like from the outside.

  Those cases seemed normal to me. To someone outside the whole situation, those murders sounded so romantic and exciting—stranger than fiction.

  “So, who killed him?” Gina asked.

  “He had a girlfriend in town,” I told her. “In fact, he had two girlfriends, but they didn’t know about each other. He cheated on them both with each other, and the whole thing came out at my costume party. One of them had a grown daughter who couldn’t stand how he treated her mother. She’d won prizes as an archer in her younger days, and she sort of snapped. It looks like she’d been plotting to murder him for a while, and the party was the last straw. She came out here and shot him. There was some confusion with another man at the party, too. He’s an expert archer, too. He even had a practice range behind his house, but he only ever used the longbow. He never used a crossbow. That’s how we eliminated him as a suspect.”

  “Will you show us?” Tanya asked. “Will you show us his practice range?”

  I shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know about that. I have to get back to the inn, and I have some other stuff to do…”

  “Please?” they all begged at once.

  “We want to see absolutely everything,” Gina told me.

  “This is so interesting,” Rose went on. “We’ve never had a trip like this one before. This is the best meeting we’ve ever had.”

  I chuckled and headed down the hill. “What will your guys say when you tell them you’ve been investigating murders all day long?”

  “Oh, they’ll never find out,” Rose replied. “They never want to know what we do all day while they’re taking over the world.”

  All four of them burst into gales of laughter. We stopped on the town green for our picnic and watched the town pass by.

  “This is such a wonderful little town,” Gina remarked. “You’re really lucky to live here.”

  “I like it a lot,” I replied. “I’ve never regretted leaving the city to come up here and run the inn. The pace of life is so much more enjoyable up here than in the city, even with all these murders to solve.”

  They all laughed again. They found everything I said incredibly funny.

  “Why do you always wind up in the middle of these cases?” Tanya asked. “Did you have any investigation experience before you came here?”

  “I didn’t,” I replied. “Levi did—he’s the handyman around the inn. He used to be a cop in New York. No, I’m just plain nosey. That’s the only reason I get caught in the middle of these cases. I don’t know when to mind my own business.”

  After lunch, I took them around to Dale Thresher’s archery range in the woods. A hush fell over the women when they entered the trees. They tiptoed around the obstacles and got a good look at everything from every possible angle.

  “A crossbow was found in Dale Thresher’s basement,” I told them. “The sheriff wanted to charge Dale with the murder, but the bolt taken from the victim’s body didn’t fit the bow. We realized the murderer planted the bow in Dale’s house to implicate him and throw us off the case.”

  The women stared at me with their eyes as big as saucers. “Wow!”

  “I guess we better get back to the inn,” I told them. “We’ve been out most of the morning, and I have a phone call I need to make.”

  They yakked all the way back to the van and all the way back to the inn. They talked nonstop about the murders, the clues, the jacuzzi—everything. “What can we see tomorrow, Allie?” they asked when we unloaded back at the inn. “What’s the other murder you solved?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll have time tomorrow,” I told them.

  “Please!” they all chimed in.

  “We’ll have to see. There are some caves I could show you where the gardener was growing his marijuana.”

  Another storm of chatter and laughing and repartee followed, and they all rushed into the inn. Blessed silence fell over the front desk. No one came out to demand anything from me, and I slipped back into my comfortable place as nothing but the inn’s busy owner.

  In the back of my mind, I planned how to turn these murders into an attraction to my guests. I had no idea how I would ever get enough time away from my other responsibilities to become an adventure tourist guide, showing my guests all the sites of my murder investigations. The scavenger hunt would make a better option. The guests could show themselves around and use the inn as their headquarters

  I spent half an hour at the front desk handling check-ins and check-outs before I found the time to sneak back to my apartment to phone Eliza about Potters’ Hardware. I’d just gotten my phone out and punched up the number when a knock sounded on my door. I looked up to find Eliza standing there in the flesh. Her gaudy jewelry and bright orange hair shone a beacon to the world.

  “Hello!” I exclaimed. “I was just about to call you.”

  “I’m psychic,” she replied. “I heard you calling me, so I came right over.”

  “Great. I want to ask you about the hardware store.”

  “Oh, God!” she groaned. “Not that old place.”

  “You know everything about it. Who cuts the keys?”

  “That’s my brother Smitty. Keys are his specialty.”

  “Something fishy’s going on,” I told her.

  “I could have told you that,” she replied. “That guy has a thing for keys. He’s always studying old locksmithing manuals. He says he wants to be a locksmith, but no one could get that interested in those dry old tomes.”

  “So, what do you think he’s up to?”

  “Who can say?” she asked. “I never have time to go to the hardware store anymore. I have my own business to run.”

  “Well, you’re going there today,” I told her. “We’re going on a snipe hunt, and you’re gonna be my tour guide.”

  “Yay!” she giggled. “What snipe are we hunting?”

  “Someone who made illegal copies of keys and passed them around to people who shouldn’t have them.”

  Eliza stopped and stared over my shoulder. “What’s that?” She pointed to the pencil sketch on my wall.

  “That?” I blushed. “That’s nothing important.”

  She squinted to inspect the drawing. “It looks like some sort of map. Look at these. They look like roads or something. And these are buildings, aren’t they? What’s it a map of?”

  I thought fast. “It’s not a map. I was thinking of painting an abstract mural on my wall—make it more interesting to look at when I’m lying in bed, you know?”

  All the air deflated from her balloon. “Oh. Okay.”

  “So, do you want to go to the hardware store with me?”

  “Sure. Let’s go.”

  We piled into my car. “So what are you scoping out Smitty for?” she asked.

  “The police found a set of keys in Freddy Wright’s bedroom. They’re all mark
ed with the Potter’s Hardware logo, and one set is to the Calliwell Museum. We know Freddy robbed the museum, and now Sheriff Mills thinks he used the keys to break in.”

  Eliza gasped. “No!”

  “Yes. It doesn’t look good for old Smitty.”

  I parked in front of the hardware store, and Eliza and I went inside. Long, tall shelves lined the store with Potters running all over the place. Tom and Sheila, Eliza’s parents, manned the counter in back where everybody checked out with their purchases. Their adult children and even a few teenagers helped customers in the aisles and behind the lumber rack.

  Eliza and I slipped unseen into the fasteners section. Eliza whispered in my ear. “Smitty’s not here today.”

  “Is there any way we can get into the key cutting records?” I hissed back. “There must be some record of what keys he’s cut.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she replied. “I think he just looks up the patterns in his books and cuts whatever customers want. Even if he was cutting them illegally, he wouldn’t keep a record of that.”

  “I wondered about that. Can we at least check?”

  “Don’t you think you ought to get the sheriff’s permission first?” Eliza asked. “He won’t like you poking your nose into another case without his say-so.”

  I shot her a wild grin. “I’m a consultant now. He said so.”

  We slunk along closer to the counter when the doorbell jangled again. Sheriff Mills’ voice floated down the aisles. “Howdy, Tom. How ya doing?”

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” Tom Potter called back. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just want to ask you a few questions about your key-cutting operation here.”

  “Sure thing,” Tom replied. “Fire away.”

  Eliza and I crept down the aisle to listen.

  “Who cuts the keys around here?” Sheriff Mills asked.

  “That would be my son Smith,” Tom replied. “You know him. Everybody calls him Smitty.”

  “Sure, I know him,” Sheriff Mills asked. “Is he working today?”

  “Nope. He took the day off to drive down to Hereford to visit somebody. I don’t know who, and I don’t know when he’ll be back, but if it has to do with the store, I can answer any questions you have. Nothing happens around here without my knowledge.”

  “I appreciate it,” Sheriff Mills replied. “Was Smitty friends with Freddy Wright?”

  “Sure. They went to school together. They’ve been friends since they were little. Say, what’s this all about, Sheriff?”

  “We found a bunch of keys in Freddy’s bedroom,” Sheriff Mills told him. “They all have the Potters’ Hardware logo printed on them, and one of the sets matches the Calliwell Museum, which we know Freddy robbed for some secret job he was doing.”

  Tom and Sheila exchanged glances. Tom scratched his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sheriff. It doesn’t look good, and if you do find out Smitty was doing anything underhanded, you can believe we’ll take the most drastic action to bring it in line.”

  “Thank you, Tom,” Sheriff Mills replied. “Would you mind if I take a look in Smitty’s room to see if we find anything related to this case?”

  “Be my guest.” Tom threw open a door behind the counter that led into the Potter family home. Sheila lifted a section of the counter out of the way to make a path, and Sheriff Mills walked through out of sight.

  I started to follow, but Eliza pulled me back. “You can’t go in there.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re not the sheriff, and you haven’t been invited.”

  “Aw, come on!” I urged. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  She hung back. “I’m not going in there.”

  “You have as much right to go in there as anybody else. It’s your house.”

  I turned and walked away. She hesitated, but a few minutes later, she hurried after me. Her high heels banged on the hollow floor. I only hoped to high heaven this worked.

  Chapter 4

  Eliza and I hurried up to the counter at Potter’s Hardware, and Sheila Potter held the counter open for us, too. She smiled at Eliza and me when we followed Sheriff Mills inside.

  I took the first step toward the door and slipped inside the Potters’ house. You would never know it joined onto the hardware store. The door led into the living room. Couches and recliners slouched all over the place, along with country décor and pictures of the whole Potter clan.

  Eliza materialized at my side. “I don’t like this.”

  At the sound of her voice, Sheriff Mills turned around and scowled at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m consulting.” Even saying those words sounded moronic under the circumstances. I was nothing but a nosey outsider in need of a distraction.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he told me. “You better leave.”

  “I’m Eliza’s guest,” I replied. “Tom and Sheila let me in, so I’m not trespassing or anything. Let me come with you to take a look at Smitty’s room.”

  “No,” he snapped. “You wait outside. Eliza doesn’t live here, and you’re not interfering with this investigation. Go on. Wait outside.”

  “Come on, Sheriff,” I begged. “I just want to know what you find in Smitty’s room. Let me come with you.”

  He aimed an imperious finger at the door. “Go wait outside, and if you behave and stop tripping me up, I might tell you what I find. If you don’t leave right now, I won’t tell you anything.”

  I started to protest, but I never saw such a look of determination on his face. He didn’t back down until Eliza and I retreated back out to the sidewalk.

  “I told you that you shouldn’t have done that,” Eliza murmured. “Now we’ll both be in trouble.”

  “How could we be in trouble when your parents let us into the house? They didn’t try to stop us, and they wouldn’t try to stop you. You could have stuck up for me and gotten him to let us stay.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not getting mixed up in this. If Smitty was copying keys, Mom and Dad will come down hard on everybody who ever worked at the store. They’ll be extra careful from now on that everybody’s doing everything by the book.”

  “Aren’t they doing that now?”

  “They probably thought they were,” she replied. “Finding out Smitty pulled a fast one will throw the whole business into turmoil. They always trusted Smitty. They even let him keep the books. All of that will have to come to a screeching halt. Mom and Dad won’t let anybody near the books now.”

  I wanted to cheer her up, but she kept casting anxious glances toward the house. Now I regretted trying to get into that house. She had enough to worry about with her parents’ business in trouble and her brother under suspicion of illegal activity.

  I never really gave much thought to how all these accusations and crimes affected individual people and families. Now I stared it straight in the face. Eliza always put on a cheerful face. She always made me happy, and she never balked at taking risks when it came to investigating a crime.

  Now she had something way more important to worry about, and her friend had to go and make it worse. I glanced around the town and spotted the four wives heading into the supermarket. I tried to make myself invisible. The last thing I needed was them coming over and finding out a criminal investigation was going on right there in the hardware store. I would never hear the end of it if they found out.

  I would have slipped off and left Eliza alone, but the sheriff came out to talk to us on the street. “Well, I found another set of keys in Smitty’s room. It seems to match the set from Freddy’s. I’m going to hunt up Smitty and bring him in for questioning. Mind you two don’t make any further trouble while I’m gone.”

  He got in his cruiser and took off, down the interstate toward Hereford. Eliza rubbed her hands together and gazed at the house in a distracted way. She jumped when I touched her arm. “Oh, Allie!”

  “You better go in there and talk to your parents,” I told her.
“I’m going to the station to see if I can find Levi.”

  She shook her head. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  She left without saying goodbye. I’d never felt worse in my life. Some friend I turned out to be.

  I ambled back to the sheriff’s station. I should have gone back to the inn. That’s where I really belonged. I felt as much like a trespasser there as I did at the Potters’ house. Why did I keep pushing my way into these investigations instead of minding my own business?

  I didn’t find anybody at the station except Rufus Leonard. He sat in the sheriff’s desk chair and read the State Troopers’ Quarterly. He pretended not to see me, and I didn’t mind a bit. I gave up in despair and left to walk back to my car when I spied Sheriff Mills roll back into town. A large figure sat in the backseat of the cruiser.

  He parked and marched Smitty Potter into the station. The sheriff actually smiled at me when I appeared in the doorway. “What do you know? He wasn’t in Hereford at all. He was right down the street the whole time. Come on, boy. Let’s get down to the interview room. You can listen from the observation room, young lady. I don’t need your consulting powers right now.”

  I was only too glad to accept the invitation. Sheriff Mills sat down across from Smitty, and I switched on the speakers. Smitty Potter was almost as big around as the sheriff himself. He had a scruffy brown beard and buzzed hair.

  “Okay, Smitty,” the sheriff began. “We found a set of keys to the Calliwell Museum in Freddy Wright’s bedroom. They were all cut at Potters’ Hardware, and we know you have the special responsibility of cutting keys for your parents’ business.”

  “I don’t know anything about Freddy’s activities,” Smitty replied. “I never cut keys for the Calliwell Museum, and I sure as heck never passed them on to anybody else.”

  “We also found a matching set of keys in your bedroom at home.”

  “My bedroom at home!” Smitty exploded. “What were you doing going through my bedroom at home?”

  “Your parents gave us access,” Sheriff Mills replied. “Your parents are the legal owners of the house, and you live at home, so there you go. Now how do you explain having possession of those keys?”