Peanut Butter Chocolate & Murder_An Oceanside Cozy Mystery Book 32 Page 4

  “We just have a few more questions,” Ryan said. “First, I’d like to know where you were on Saturday night?”

  “Saturday?” Monique asked. She sipped her drink and looked off in thought. “I don’t think I was doing anything that night. I guess I was here, watching TV.”

  “Did anyone join you? Or did anyone see you here?” asked Ryan.

  “No,” Monique said. “Was that when Donny was killed? You can’t think that I did it. Why would I?”

  “He was your ex-husband,” Heather pointed out.

  “Yeah. But I divorced him. I didn’t kill him,” said Monique. “And I did miss him sometimes. I didn’t want him hurt.”

  “But there is no one who can back up your alibi?” asked Ryan.

  “I guess not,” said Monique. “Bloody Marys can’t talk.”

  “Do you have a gun?” Peters asked.

  “No,” Monique said. “I wouldn’t trust my aim.”

  “Thank you for all your help,” Peters started to say.

  “Of course, Donny had a gun,” said Monique. “I think it was a 9mm.”

  The investigators all exchanged a look.

  The Gun

  “I feel a little guilty about this,” Amy admitted.

  “Me too,” said Heather. “But we need to read them to help us solve the case.”

  The two friends were seated in Heather’s living room, looking at the messages that “Henry Don” and Bernadette had exchanged. There was nothing scandalous, but you could sense Bernadette’s anticipation about their upcoming date.

  “He was certainly saying the right things,” Amy said. “Everything he said presents him in a good light.”

  “He thought it sounded it better to say he was a widower instead of divorced,” Heather said. “I wonder how much of what he said was a fabrication, what was a lie, and was what real.”

  “We’ll also have to figure out what to say to Bernadette,” Amy said, frowning.

  “I think we should focus on finding the killer first,” said Heather. “Then, we can figure out the best way to tell her about Donald.”

  “What’s worse?” asked Amy. “Finding out that the person she was falling for was a lie? Or thinking he was real, but now he’s dead?”

  “I don’t know,” said Heather. “But he was good at finding ways to impress her. Look at how he matched literary references with her. He quotes Cyrano de Bergerac and Pride and Prejudice and Shakespeare.”

  “He might have found those quotes online,” said Amy. “It’s easy to find them like that nowadays.”

  “That’s true.”

  They read through the messages, trying to find something useful.

  “There’s a part here where he mentions that he’s trying to write a book. Doesn’t say much about it,” said Amy. “Like he doesn’t mention plot or characters. But that’s something else that would have impressed Bernadette.”

  “Wait. Here’s something else,” Heather said. “This is where he mentions the stalker.”

  Amy moved closer and looked over her shoulder. “That’s basically what Bernadette told us already.”

  “Except that he mentions thinking that someone was following him in a stairwell and how he tried to time his steps. He wanted to determine if what he was hearing was another set of footsteps or an echo.”

  “That’s creepy,” said Amy.

  “Maybe it’s possible that the other set of footsteps was the person who killed him,” Heather said.

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t an echo that killed him,” Amy joked.

  Heather’s cell phone began ringing. Seeing it was Ryan calling, she hurried to pick it up.

  After greeting her, Ryan said, “Forensics has just about finished examining Donald Hen’s house for evidence. Just one more room to go.”

  “Have they found anything?” asked Heather.

  “We’ve collected fingerprints and hair samples. We can see if there’s anything that we can compare to a suspect once we find one.”

  “Will you test it against Monique Hen?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ryan admitted. “Monique could have left her prints on things from when they were married. Since he wasn’t killed here, I’m not sure what it will prove. I think I’ll ask if she’s willing to see if we can rule out any prints.”

  “We’ve been going through the messages, but we haven’t found a smoking gun in what was said.”

  “Do you and Amy want to look around Donald Hen’s house too? That was the main reason for my call. Since we’re just about done collecting fingerprints, you’ll be able to search for clues.”

  “That sounds good,” Heather said. “We can stop poking around in our friend’s personal life and focus on the victim’s instead.”

  When she hung up with Ryan, she told Amy about the invitation to visit the victim’s house. Amy was also glad to stop going through the flirtatious messages. They checked that there was food and water in their pets’ bowls and then headed out.

  As they drove up to Donald Hen’s house, they saw Ryan’s squad car outside. They parked and walked up to the door where they were greeted by Peters.

  “Come on in,” he said. “Ryan is checking the bedroom for potential hiding places. I said I’d keep an eye out for you because I was just doing an inventory of some objects on his desk. So far there doesn’t seem to be any motive I can find.”

  Heather and Amy followed him further inside and looked around. The first thing that caught Heather’s eye was a stack of books.

  “Look,” she said. “Complete works of Shakespeare. Cyrano de Bergerac. These are the books that Henry/Donald used to make his literary references when talking to Bernadette.”

  “They’re library books,” Amy noted. “So, is that better or worse? Was he reading because he wanted to impress Bernadette and so he checked them out? Or did he get them to facilitate his lie?”

  “What library are they from?” Heather asked suddenly.

  Peters made sure that the glove on his hand was secure and flipped open the book so that he could see the markings inside.

  Heather could barely restrain herself from crying Eureka.

  “I like that you’re happy,” Amy said. “But I don’t understand the connection.”

  “This is the library that was near the parking lot where Donald Hen was killed,” Heather explained. “I don’t know exactly what it means, but this could provide some sort of link for why he was there that night.”

  “Like maybe he was returning library books?” suggested Peters. “Most libraries have a drop bin where you can deposit books after they are closed.”

  “That could be it,” said Heather. “I don’t know if that gives us any insight as to who the killer is, but it could explain the location. We should talk to the librarians.”

  Then, they heard Ryan actually shout “Eureka!” from upstairs. They walked over to meet him as he walked down the steps, carrying a shoebox.

  “What is it?” Peters asked.

  “I didn’t mean to be so loud,” Ryan said with a blush. “But after feeling stuck for so long, I found something worthwhile.”

  “What?” asked Amy.

  “A 9mm gun,” Ryan said, as he opened the box to reveal it.

  Books

  The excitement over finding the gun soon faded. After Ryan examined it a little more, it seemed apparent to him that it hadn’t been fired recently. They were still sending it off to the lab to be sure, but it seemed as if Donald Hen’s gun wasn’t the murder weapon.

  “I guess it makes sense,” Ryan said to his fellow investigators as they discussed the case outside of the victim’s house. “The killer would have had to get Donald Hen’s gun in the first place, kill him, and then return it to a hiding place inside his house.”

  “The ex-wife might have been able to do that,” said Heather. “She could still have a key to his house, and she would have known his hiding places.”

  “And she has a really terrible alibi,” said Amy.

  “But I gue
ss if this gun isn’t the murder weapon then that doesn’t matter,” Heather said.

  “I was so excited when I found it,” Ryan said, ruefully.

  “It is still an important piece of evidence,” said Heather. “It shows that the victim’s gun wasn’t used to kill him. The killer had to be somebody else who had access to a gun.”

  “And that person might still be Monique Hen,” said Amy.

  “True on both points,” said Ryan. “We’ll have to find out if she had access to any other weapons.”

  “But first we should check on how Chief Chet is doing getting that warrant,” said Peters. “Because once we find out more about the victim’s dates, we can see if they are suspects too.”

  Ryan nodded.

  “I think Amy and I will go and check on the library,” said Heather.

  “Yeah,” Amy joked. “We’ll let them know that some of their books are going to be overdue. They won’t be getting them back until they’re no longer considered evidence.”

  It felt strange parking in the lot where Donald Hen had been killed, but since it was no longer considered a crime scene, it was the most logical spot to leave their car.

  Heather and Amy headed to the library, noting how there were more people on the street during business hours than there had been on the night of the murder. They entered the brightly lit library and headed to the main circulation desk. There were two women there, sorting through books. One was a middle-aged woman who already looked grandmotherly. Despite the warm weather, she had a crocheted sweater on and had large glasses on a chain. She looked like someone who was ready to hand out lollipops to good boys and girls.

  The other librarian was younger and had a pinched face. She shushed the two women as they approached.

  “Now, now, Pauline,” the older woman said with a roll of her eyes. “How are we supposed to know what they want if they can’t talk to us?”

  “Sorry, Delilah.” She turned to Heather and Amy. “Can we help you find something?”

  “Are you looking for something wondrous to read?” asked Delilah, raising her glasses to her face.

  “I’m sure my daughter would love wandering these shelves in her free time, and I’ll be sure to bring her back,” Heather said.

  “And I wouldn’t mind reading something while lounging on the sand,” said Amy.

  “But we’re here on business right now,” Heather explained. “We’re private investigators, and we’re assisting the Key West Police on a murder case.”

  “A murder case?” asked Pauline. “This sounds like a story from one of our books.”

  “Was this about the person killed in the parking lot a few days ago?” asked Delilah. “I read about it in the paper, but they didn’t have many details. They weren’t even sure who it was.”

  “They have uncovered that now,” said Heather. “His name was Donald Hen.”

  “Donald Hen?” Delilah repeated. “Oh no. That must be Don. That man who started checking out so many books lately.”

  “It’s about him that we’re here,” Heather said. “We wanted to see if he had returned any books in your book drop over the weekend.”

  Delilah did some typing on the computer and then said, “I don’t see a record of any of his books being returned recently.”

  “Maybe it’s in a different stack?” suggested Pauline. “Maybe it’s something we haven’t check in yet?”

  “No,” Delilah said, shaking her head and letting the chains on her glasses jangle. “I’m up to date on all our check-ins.”

  “Why are you so interested in his returns?” asked Pauline.

  “We’re trying to establish why he was there that night,” Heather said.

  Then before she could say anything else, her cell phone began to ring. Pauline cleared her throat and pointed to a sign that said, “Please Silence all Cell Phones.”

  “Pauline, they’re working with the police,” said Delilah.

  “I’m sorry,” Heather said, apologizing quickly. “I do have a few more questions for you both, but I’m afraid I have to take this call.”

  She walked away from the circulation table to answer the call from Bernadette.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you,” Bernadette said.

  “Not at all,” said Heather.

  “I don’t mean to pry about your case, but I was hoping to hear that you had some promising leads. I feel very useless right now. I wish I could do something to help.”

  Heather made a quick decision and invited Bernadette to join them at the library.

  “You’re sure?” Bernadette asked. “I wouldn’t be in the way?”

  “I’m not sure how much else we’ll find out about the victim here anyway, but at least you can make sure that we don’t miss any clues related to books.”

  As they finished their call, Heather smiled. She hoped that asking Bernadette to help would make her feel better. And who knew? She might be able to shed some light on the case.

  The Library

  Heather and Amy met Bernadette outside of the library. She had a slight smile on her lips as she walked up the steps.

  “I haven’t been to the library in so long,” Bernadette said. “I used to love going to libraries when I was a girl, but since I opened a bookshop, I haven’t needed to go to one. They’re a great part of the community though. Even if they are my competition.”

  “Well, we’re glad you’re here,” Heather said. “We’re going to talk to both of the librarians about his time spent at the library.”

  “He told me that he liked to read,” Bernadette said. “And I teased him and told him that he would have to come to my shop sometime. Then, he said that he also liked being someplace quiet to work on the novel he was trying to write. I guess this is where he would go.”

  “This might not be easy for you,” Heather admitted. “But you said that you wanted to help.”

  “And I do,” Bernadette said, earnestly. “I want to catch Henry’s killer very badly.”

  Amy groaned. “I think Heather is right about this not being easy for you. You might learn things that you don’t want to know.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Okay,” Amy said. “Then, the first thing you need to know is that he lied about his name. It’s actually Donald Hen.”

  “He lied about his name?” Bernadette asked, looking confused.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Heather said, quickly.

  “No. I’m all right,” Bernadette said again. “I’m going to help.”

  She started up the steps of the library, and the investigators followed.

  “What do we do first?” Bernadette asked when they were inside.

  Pauline shushed them from behind the counter.

  Heather smirked as she said, “I guess we get the quiet one talking first.”

  Pauline didn’t seem especially pleased to be taken away from her spot at the desk, but she agreed to talk with them. She led them into the library’s empty conference room and shut the door.

  “We can speak at a normal level now and shouldn’t disturb anyone,” she said, taking a seat. “But what do you think I can tell you?”

  “We’d just like to know as much as Donald Hen as we can,” said Heather.

  “Well, he was becoming a regular visitor here,” Pauline said. “And he was very inquisitive. He didn’t come in looking for specific books. He asked for advice on certain genres. Most recently, he was asking for romantic passages.”

  “He was?” asked Bernadette.

  “I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it,” said Pauline.

  “Maybe he was inspired to read new romantic things because of what was happening in his life,” Bernadette said, quietly.

  “He seemed more interested in quotes,” Pauline said. “But he liked synopses of books too. He would check a lot of them out though, so I suppose my suggestions were good.”

  “Did he ever check anything out that was valuable?” Heather asked.

  “Valuable?” Pauli
ne repeated back.

  “Could something that he checked out have been worth killing him for?” asked Heather.

  “Like a robbery?” Pauline suggested.

  Heather nodded, and Amy said, “His wallet was also taken.”

  “But this is a public library,” said Bernadette. “It’s supposed to be so that people have access to materials. It’s not supposed to house collectibles that could be easily stolen or damaged, right?”

  “That is true,” Pauline said. “But we have many copies of books that look impressive. While they may not actually be worth much, they could have fancy covers that look like antiques.”

  “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Amy muttered.

  “Perhaps someone was mistaken and thought it was worth a lot of money,” Pauline said.

  “But the killer should have recognized that Donald Hen was near the library,” said Heather. “This still doesn’t make sense.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have the answer for you,” Pauline said, evenly.

  “Could you get us a list of the books that Donald Hen still has checked out?” asked Heather. “Maybe we can see if one of them is missing from the stack at his house.”

  “Of course,” Pauline said, starting to rise.

  “Wait,” said Heather. “I have two more questions.”

  Pauline returned to her seat.

  “Did Donald ever mention having a stalker?”

  “A stalker?” Pauline repeated. “Not that I can recall.”

  “My final question is where were you Saturday evening?” said Heather.

  “After we closed up, I went home,” said Pauline. “I had dinner and made a few phone calls.”

  “Thank you,” Heather said, sweetly.

  “I’ll look into getting you that list,” Pauline said. “Should I ask Delilah to come in here too?”

  Heather nodded, and Pauline left the room.

  “I’m not sure how much help I’m being,” Bernadette admitted.

  “Delilah seems more talkative,” said Heather. “Maybe this conversation will yield more.”