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Pink Moscato & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 15 Page 3


  “We used to be such a quiet island,” Chief Chet said. “Why are we starting the new year with murders?”

  “I’m sure it will also be started off with us catching the killers,” Amy said.

  That seemed to reassure him, and he smiled. "I'm sure that will be the case too. But try and solve this one quickly. I don't want to have killers roaming the streets."

  “We’re about talk to the owner of the restaurant now,” Ryan said.

  “He should have some insights for us,” Heather agreed.

  Chief Chet nodded and wished them luck. He walked away, and Heather sensed that he was disappointed that she didn't bring any of her delicious donuts to the station on this visit. Well, that wasn't her fault. She had come straight from a family outing at a butterfly conservatory to a crime scene to the police station. If she thought about it too much, she was bound to tire herself out and start craving her snacks. She focused on the case instead.

  Mr. Gusters had come in and was eager to talk to them so that they could find out who had killed his chef.

  “I can’t believe he was murdered,” Mr. Gusters said.

  Heather, Amy, Ryan and Detective Peters were seated at the interrogation table with Mr. Gusters. They had already gotten him some coffee and were ready to take notes on what he was going to tell them.

  “It’s always hard to lose somebody, especially so violently,” Heather said. “But the best thing for us to do is to find out who killed him.”

  “How am I supposed to go on without him?” Mr. Gusters asked.

  “You were close to Clint Trag?” Ryan asked.

  “Huh?” asked Mr. Gusters. “Not really. Oh. I meant how am I supposed to go on with my restaurant without him? He was such a good chef.”

  Even though he seemed more focused on the effect this would have on his business rather than the man’s life being lost, Heather had to agree with Detective Peters’s first impression of him. Mr. Gusters was an older man and seemed to be afflicted with arthritis. She agreed that it would have been difficult for him to overpower the younger Clint Trag and stab him. It might even have been difficult for Mr. Gusters to grasp the murder weapon correctly.

  “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?” Heather asked.

  “No,” Mr. Gusters said. “He made the most delicious food.”

  "What about for reasons besides his cooking?" asked Ryan.

  "I can't think of anything," said Mr. Gusters. "I don't know much of his life outside of the restaurant. Though he does have a sweet wife and the most adorable little boy."

  "This is so sad,” Amy whispered to her friend.

  Heather nodded and then asked another question, “Do you know why the chef was there that morning? You don’t open until lunchtime, do you?”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Gusters agreed. “We focused on later meals. Just dinners during the week. Lunches and dinners on the weekends. Dinners are our specialties. Trag had a Chicken Parmesan that could knock your socks off. And don’t even get me started on his Sea Bass creations.”

  “Okay. I won’t,” Amy said.

  “I guess we’ll never taste them again,” Mr. Gusters said, sadly.

  "But about his being there this morning," Ryan prompted.

  “Trag often came in early on the weekends," Mr. Gusters said. "I would come in on Saturday mornings to look at the books. I would also make deposits or bring in change if needed before the weekend rush. We'd usually see each other during the week, but if things became hectic, we would meet and discuss things Saturday mornings. It wasn't an official thing with a set time, but it's what ended up happening."

  “And that’s why you were there that morning?” Heather asked.

  “That’s right,” Mr. Gusters said. “But I never would have expected I'd walk into what I walked into. The door was unlocked, so I knew Trag was there, but I never suspected he would be dead. There was so much blood. I nearly had a heart attack."

  “We’re very sorry about that,” Heather said. “But you did the right thing contacting the police so quickly.”

  “It didn’t look like an accident,” Mr. Gusters said. “I knew he had to be killed, but I couldn’t figure out why. Two questions kept running through my head.”

  “What were they?” asked Detective Peters.

  “I was asking why would someone want to kill my poor chef? And was there any chance that we would be able to open for lunch?”

  “Unfortunately, the restaurant will be a crime scene for a while longer,” Ryan said.

  "Oh. I suspected that," Mr. Gusters said. "And even if I opened, I've lost my head chef. I'll need to figure out what to do about that. I wish I could have gotten there earlier that day."

  “You mustn’t blame yourself,” Heather said. “There is no telling that you could have stopped him. You might have been injured yourself.”

  “Or worse,” Amy reminded them.

  “But I do wish I knew what it was that Trag wanted to talk to me about,” Mr. Gusters said. “I knew this Saturday we had something to discuss. He had mentioned it earlier. What was it? Oh, right. It was about some trouble he had with an employee.”

  “Which one?” asked Detective Peters. “That could be a motive for murder.”

  “It was a man named Josh Fulton.”

  Suspicious Staff

  “You think this Josh Fulton could have had something to do with his murder?” Detective Peters asked.

  The other investigators at the table felt their hearts drop.

  “Maybe,” Mr. Gusters agreed. “I know that Trag wanted to talk to me about him. I know there had been some trouble with him.”

  Even though Heather didn’t want to believe that it was Jamie’s friend who was responsible for the murder, she knew that she needed to follow the evidence wherever it led. She didn’t want to hold anything back, even if it sounded incriminating. They needed to find out the truth.

  “He quit earlier in the week,” Heather said. “Or was fired.”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Gusters agreed. “I had forgotten. That was what Trag wanted to talk about. Maybe it was to find a replacement. Or maybe it might even have been that he was afraid of him. Josh Fulton could have a temper. I remember him throwing potatoes against the wall one day when he was angry.”

  “That does sound like a motive,” Detective Peters said, not knowing that the others hoped against this.

  "Did he ever say anything in particular that made you think he wanted to hurt Clint Trag?” Ryan asked.

  “Not that I can think of,” Mr. Gusters said. “He was a passionate man with a temper. Things would flare up and then disappear. I don’t remember anything directed at Trag or the staff. But I wasn’t there when he was fired.”

  “Or quit,” Amy said. “It was probably a he said / he said about firing or quitting.”

  “But Josh Fulton does seem like the most likely candidate for a suspect out of the employees,” Mr. Gusters said.

  “Who else works there?” Heather asked.

  “We should talk to all of them,” Ryan agreed. “Especially if anyone had keys.”

  “Well, for staff who had keys,” Mr. Gusters said thinking. “Actually, all of our full-timers have keys to enter. Trag and I could get into the back office, and only I could get into the safe.”

  “Who are the full-timers?” asked Heather.

  “They’re the ones who are here year-round. We have more help in the summer,” Mr. Gusters started. “I own the restaurant and handle the business end of things. I used to cook, but haven’t in years since my arthritis started acting up. I preferred to eat from other talented chefs instead.”

  “And Clint Trag was one of them?” asked Ryan.

  “He was a great chef. He wasn’t a perfect man. He could be stern and stubborn. He could be hard on the staff. But he was a wonderful cook,” Mr. Gusters agreed.

  “Two stubborn men in a small kitchen,” Heather said.

  “Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Amy agreed.

&n
bsp; “Josh Fulton was the Sous Chef or second in command in the kitchen,” Mr. Gusters said. “He was relatively new. He didn’t really like not being in charge as far as I could tell. But he kept it under wraps until the nastiness this week.”

  “Who else worked there?” asked Heather.

  “Damian Grant was also in the kitchen. He mostly did prep work. Making sure vegetables were peeled and cut and that sort of thing,” Mr. Gusters said.

  “Did he have any issues with Clint Trag?” asked Ryan.

  “No. He got along with everyone. Nice fellow.”

  “And the other employees?” asked Heather.

  “Just our waiter and waitress,” said Mr. Gusters. “Mary Lou and Andy.”

  “And everyone has keys?” Ryan reiterated.

  “Just to get inside,” Mr. Gusters said. “Not where the money was kept.”

  “It didn’t appear that anything was stolen from the restaurant,” Detective Peters said.

  “I see,” Mr. Gusters said. “Because they all have keys, they could have gotten into the kitchen. You think that one of my employees is the killer. Well, I’m not sure how I’m ever going to open again then. I’m losing most of my staff to this murder business.”

  “We’ll do the best we can to solve this quickly,” Ryan said evenly.

  Heather decided to switch tactics. “Have you ever seen this scrunchie before?”

  “No,” Mr. Gusters said, looking at what they found at the crime scene. “But I’m sure it will look lovely on you, my dear.”

  Heather decided not to pursue that line of questioning anymore.

  “We’ll be looking at the knives from the kitchen to see if any of them are the murder weapon,” Ryan said. “But based on what you’ve seen, can you tell us if any of them are missing?”

  Mr. Gusters looked at the pictures of all the knives from his kitchen that were in evidence. He counted them up and then said, “Nope. They are all there.”

  “You’re sure?” asked Detective Peters.

  “Positive,” Mr. Gusters agreed. “They’re all accounted for. And we use that special handle, see? These are all my kitchen’s knives.”

  "I suppose that's all our questions for now,” Ryan started. “Unless we found anything hidden in the trash.”

  Peters shook his head. “Only vegetables and pasta and stuff.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mr. Gusters asked.

  “Just what we found in the trash in the kitchen,” Peters said.

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Mr. Gusters said. “I took all the trash out last night. There was nothing in the trash when we all left.”

  “So that means it showed up after you were closed?” Peters thought aloud. “Or possibly the morning of the murder?”

  “But who was cooking?” Amy asked. “The killer?”

  “Or was Chef Clint Trag cooking?” asked Heather. “Why would someone throw away what he was making?”

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Gusters said. “But once you have this all figured out, let me know. I’d love to open for business again. Despite the difficulties.”

  "I guess I better start digging through the trash again," Peters said glumly.

  “I’ll help you, partner,” Ryan said.

  “Let me know when you catch this Josh Fulton guy,” Mr. Gusters said.

  Heather and Amy exchanged a look. They were going to have to catch him and get his explanation for what is going on.

  In Defense of a Friend

  “Josh couldn’t have done it,” Jamie said stubbornly.

  “I know we’d like to think that,” Heather said. “But you have to admit that it seems suspicious.”

  "It's only suspicious because we haven't heard his side of the story yet," Jamie said. "I'm sure he'll be able to explain everything and then you'll be able to figure out who the real killer is really quick."

  “But you haven’t been able to get in contact with him, have you?” Heather asked.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s a killer,” Jamie said.

  “But it is suspicious,” Heather said.

  “Maybe his phone is dead,” Jamie said.

  “That’s really bad timing for it,” Amy muttered.

  “Yes. It is,” said Jamie. “But Josh has had a lot of bad luck in his life.”

  “But was some of this bad luck his own fault?” Heather asked. “We’ve heard how he could lose his temper. And he was hitting the table pretty hard that night during dinner.”

  “Heather, he’s my friend,” Jamie said. “Don’t try and railroad him.”

  Heather frowned and looked at her kitchen table. The couple had come over for donuts, and so they could explain what they had found out to Jamie. They hoped that he might have been successful in contacting his friend, but Jamie said that he still had not heard from Josh.

  “I’m not railroading him. We don’t do that. You know that,” Heather said.

  “I guess I do know that,” Jamie said. “But I also know that Josh is not a murderer.”

  "The problem is that he just quit his job at the restaurant,” began Heather.

  “Or he was fired,” Amy said. “Depending on who you talk to.”

  "And this was right after he had a big fight with the victim. He's strong enough to have committed the crime, and it looks like he had a motive," Heather said. "He was supposed to have met us the morning of the murder, but he never showed up. What was he doing at the time of death?”

  “And,” Amy said, sadly. “Something we didn’t reiterate in front of the detectives. We knew that Josh planned on talking to the chef to see if he could get his job back. Maybe he was there that morning.”

  "Maybe he's hurt," Jamie said. "Maybe the killer went after him too. We're here talking about how he may be a bad guy, and he might be in danger."

  “Jamie, I don’t want to think that he’s guilty,” Amy said. “I like your friend a lot.”

  “He liked you too,” Jamie said.

  “He did?” Amy asked, allowing herself to smile. “I was so nervous. I was afraid that if I didn’t get his approval, you’d start to think less of me. And I’ve grown rather fond of you.”

  “I could never think less of you,” Jamie said. “But I think you’re wrong to suspect Josh of the crime.”

  “We’re going to follow other leads too,” Amy assured him.

  "There is the scrunchie that we found," Heather said. "We're not positive that it appeared during the murder, but Mr. Gusters didn't recognize it, so it wasn't something worn around the restaurant a lot."

  “And Josh’s hair is too short to need a scrunchie,” Amy said happily.

  "We need to find some other motives,” Heather said. “Right now, Josh is the only one we know of.”

  “He didn’t do it! I know him,” Jamie said.

  Lilly entered the room, followed by the pets. Dave gave them a reproachful look. The adults must have interrupted some quality ear scratching that Lilly stopped in order to see what was going on. Cupcake was staying close to Lilly’s feet, and even Miss Marshmallow came in. She sat down daintily and stared at the humans.

  “Is everything okay?” Lilly asked.

  “Everything is fine,” Heather assured her daughter.

  “I heard yelling,” Lilly said. “Are we in danger because of one of your cases?”

  “We were just having a little disagreement,” Heather said. “We’re not in danger.”

  “Right,” Amy agreed. “At least, I hope not. You didn’t give Josh a key to our house, did you?”

  Jamie stood up and pushed his chair in a little too hard. He seemed to have realized that he was getting riled up and took a deep breath.

  "I'm sorry we scared you, Lilly," he said. "We were just having a disagreement because, for the first time, I don't think Amy and your mom are investigating a case correctly."

  “What do you mean?” Lilly asked.

  “They think that somebody who couldn’t have done it did it,” Jamie said.

  “How so?” a
sked Lilly. “He couldn’t have done it like he left footprints and he’s in a wheelchair? Or like he was too short to hit someone over the head with a frying pan?”

  “No. Like he’s my best friend,” Jamie said. “I’ve known him for years. He’s a good guy. If you could just hear his side of it, you’d know he didn’t do it.”

  “But we can’t talk to him,” Heather said. “Because we don’t know where he is.”

  “Right?” Amy asked.

  “Right,” Jamie said. “I don’t know where he is.”

  "If you did know, you would tell us, wouldn't you?" Amy asked.

  “Sure,” Jamie said. “I mean, of course, I would. But I don’t know anything. Except that he didn’t do it. Well, I should get going. I should make sure my van is full of gas for tomorrow.”

  “You didn’t finish your donut,” Amy said.

  “You can have it,” Jamie said. He gave her a quick kiss and ran out the door.

  Amy waited until he was gone and then said, “When have you ever seen Jamie turn down a donut?”

  “That is weird,” Lilly agreed.

  Amy frowned. She didn’t like this suspicious behavior.

  “I think Jamie might know more than he’s telling us,” Heather said.

  “But Jamie wouldn’t lie to me,” Amy said. “Would he?”

  The Wife

  “Thank you for speaking with us, Mrs. Trag,” Heather said.

  “It’s no trouble,” Mrs. Trag said, though it looked like getting up and getting dressed was trouble at the moment. She looked depressed and disheveled. “Anything I can do to help you catch the person who did this, I’ll do.”

  She put a few chairs on the porch and sat down with the private investigators.

  “My sister came when she heard what happened. She’s with my son now. I don’t want him to hear the details about what happened.”

  “We understand,” Heather assured her.

  “Even if we don’t like when some people keep secrets,” Amy said. “We certainly understand you in this instance.”