Alibi in April (Calendar Mysteries Book 4) Read online

  "Can I help? Today and tomorrow are my days off so we can catch up on everything while we dust. If I bring two bottles of wine, we can order a large pizza and turn it into a slumber party. Do you remember when Edie let us all stay over in the front living room?"

  "Yes! We must have been barely thirteen. Oh, wow." I grinned as I remembered all the fun we had. Aunt Edie was the best hostess to a gaggle of giggling, hyperactive, teenage girls. We stayed up for a movie marathon and ate bags of popcorn and drank our sodas before falling asleep inside our sleeping bags on inflatable mattresses. The following day, after our parents collected everyone, we were so exhausted. "Let's do that again! I'm sure if I call Melissa she’ll come."

  "And Danielle too! I saw her just last week. She said she plans to stay for a while although I don't think it’s permanent. I can't wait for us all to get together again. I want to hear all about how you found the body. And I also want to get all the dirt about your exciting life. Isn't it great? We both came back at almost the same time? It must be the wings of fate!"

  "Are you staying long?" I asked.

  Tia nodded. "I plan to indefinitely. I've had enough of chasing the snowy slopes and working for sleazy clients. Too many of them assume that paying for private lessons means a lot of extras; or that it allows them to treat me like a servant. Plus, I have the perfect slope just minutes from home. I'm not planning to live at my parents' forever but they're kindness is more than appreciated until I find another apartment. It's time for me to put down some roots. I already have a job at March's and another ski job lined up for the winter."

  "It sounds like you have it all mapped out."

  "Not quite, but I'm getting there. I have a few things left to do and I can see my parents waving at me. I think the police might want to ask me something. When shall I come by then? Two or three?"

  "Whenever you’re ready. Bring a pair of rubber gloves if you have them and I think I have everything else we need here. Thank you so much for offering to help. I can't thank you enough!" Just the thought of Tia’s help lifted my spirits. I wasn't sure I felt comfortable being on my own in the house, knowing that a man was killed and his body was abandoned right outside. A man who might have been prowling inside my home while I slept.

  "You can buy the pizza as a thank you. You know what they say, two pairs of hands are better than one." Tia walked out backwards, doing jazz hands. I followed her, seeing her stumble on the porch but she just laughed and waved before turning to jog along the path. She went over to where her parents were speaking with Detective Logan.

  I closed the door behind her and walked into the kitchen, pausing at the door to the supply closet. I forgot to look in here last night when I was searching for cleaning solutions. Now, I pulled it open, stepped inside and turned on the light. It wasn't too filthy with grime inside as I looked over the shelves. I was more than a little pleased to see plenty of cleaning supplies from furniture polish and anti-bacterial sprays to dusters, cleaning cloths and another vacuum. That was a godsend by itself. It’d save me from lugging the heavy one I found upstairs. Even better was not having to dip into my tight budget to buy cleaning supplies. I had a feeling I would go through most of whatever was here.

  I tugged the vacuum out and placed it near the stairs before grabbing a basket and filling it with all the cleaning products I might need. I was grateful that Tia offered to help me but I didn't feel right about her doing everything. I had to make a start.

  At that moment, my stomach decided to groan, reminding me that I hadn't eaten breakfast or even had a cup of coffee. There was no way I could do the amount of work that was necessary on an empty stomach. I had to think about lunch and dinner too for the girls. Somehow, I had to fit in a quick trip to the supermarket on top of everything else.

  "Mom? Dad?" I called as I turned off the light and closed the closet door. "Where are you?" I headed into the kitchen. Both were standing at the door, watching the crime scene people moving about the yard. "I thought Detective Logan was all finished out here," I said.

  "He's only finished in the kitchen. This is utterly fascinating," said Dad without looking around. "They're dusting that powder everywhere."

  "It's going to be terrible to clean up," said Mom although she looked equally riveted.

  "The yard can wait for another day." I shivered at the thought of going out there and cleaning up. I barely had a chance to look at the condition of the garden furniture but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t keep the chair the man died in. I scanned the overgrowth that was now running wild, and thought there was no telling what could be hiding in there. The animals didn’t bother me so much, although there were plenty of wild things I preferred not to run into, but the dangers I feared more than them were the humans. That’s because humans carried guns.

  Detective Logan left me with a very chilling thought. Two people were in my yard during the early hours of the morning; and given that one was now dead, they clearly were not up to any good. They might have been inside the house while I slept. Maybe they even prowled past my bedroom or looked inside. What if they were watching me in the dark when I opened the French doors to toss out the kitten? I intended to ask Tia if she knew where the little cat came from but the kitten didn't worry me. Not so much as the idea that the dead man and his friend could have been searching for something inside the house. I was sure there wasn't anything of any great value but what if they believed there was?

  That reminded me of something else. I needed to get the door locks changed.

  "We should have breakfast at home," said Mom, still staring into the yard. "We got here in such a hurry, I forgot to bring anything."

  "Even if you did, there's nowhere clean we can eat it and nothing to prepare anything with." Dad flapped a hand at the kitchen but didn't move his nose from where it was almost pressed against the window panes.

  "Let's go," said Mom, tugging him. It was like pulling a kid away from a candy shop window.

  "But this is just like CSI," Dad protested.

  "Vanessa, are you coming with us?" asked Mom.

  "I need to change all the locks."

  "You think someone's going to break in now? With the police all around?" asked Dad. "Come with us and have something to eat first; then you can call a locksmith."

  "Okay," I conceded as my stomach rumbled again and much more audibly. "Do you know any good locksmiths?"

  "Sure," said Dad. "You know him too. Nate Minoso."

  I sighed. "Anyone else?"

  "Nope, sorry, honey. You might want to apologize to him too. I think you hurt his feelings."

  "Great. Just great," I said as I dropped my face into my palms. Today was definitely not proceeding well. There was a dead man in my yard, I insulted my old best friend, my mother deliberately embarrassed me in front of Detective Logan, I was hungry, and pretty soon, everyone would know about the murdered body at my house.

  "I wonder how the discovery of a murder will affect the market value of this house," said Dad. "A lot of people don't want to buy houses where dead people were found, especially when it’s an unsolved murder."

  "He wasn't inside it, he was outside," I pointed out although my dad's words struck a nerve.

  "Detective Logan will find the person responsible. We should invite him over for dinner when he does," said Mom. "What do you think he likes to eat?"

  "I don't care," I said.

  "Steak," said Dad. "He looks like a steak man. He will solve it, honey. He's had some practice lately."

  "And if he doesn't?" I asked, taking a quick look around. If Detective Logan failed to solve the case, I might end up being stuck here with a house I couldn’t sell. If I were stuck here for too long, people might assume I was the person who committed the murder! I sucked in a deep breath and made a fast decision.

  I would have to investigate the crime and discover the identity of the murderer before I sold the house.

  Chapter Six

  "More bacon, honey?" asked Mom. She hovered by my shoulder, skillet
in hand.

  "No thanks, Mom."

  "Another pancake?"

  "No, thanks."

  "Can I get you another coffee?"

  "I'm good."

  "What about..."

  "Mom, how many times does Vanessa have to say no?" said my twin sister, Tammy. She didn't even look up from where she chopped up a pancake for Joseph, the younger of her two children, and adorable at just two years old. Next to him was little Amelia, four years old and the image of her mother. Unlike my hoody and jeans, Tammy wore smart, gray slacks and a periwinkle blue sweater over a white shirt. She could have been on her way to an office, not brunching with the family.

  "All right, I get the message." Mom walked away and deposited the skillet on the stove, then reached for the coffee pot and refilled my father's cup without asking him.

  "Your mom is just trying to express herself the best way she knows how," said Dad. He lay his hand over mine.

  "I know, Dad. Mom, I appreciate all the food. The pancakes are great and just what I needed."

  "Especially with the morning you've had," added Mom. "I mean, finding a dead body in your garden chair."

  "Aunt Edie's garden chair," corrected Tammy. She wiped her son's mouth and helped him off the booster seat attached to the chair. Setting him on floor, she gave him a little push towards the big basket of toys my parents always kept at their house.

  "Vanessa's garden chair," said Mom. "Vanessa owns the house now."

  "And everything in it," muttered Tammy. She wrinkled her nose at her plate and made no attempt to disguise her irritation.

  "That's what it said in the will," agreed Dad. He speared the last pancake and dropped it on his plate. "This is a nice brunch. We haven't been together in so..."

  "It's not right that Aunt Edie didn't leave it to both of us," continued Tammy, talking over our father. "I visited her in the nursing home far more often than you did, Vanessa. What did you say to her to get her to leave the house to you?"

  "Nothing," I said, slightly appalled. It wasn't the first time Tammy brought it up.

  "That's not polite, Tammy," said Mom.

  Tammy rolled her eyes and reached for her coffee. She took a long sip and her mouth formed a thin line. "It's not like Vanessa even needs a house that size!"

  "Neither do you. You and Grant have a lovely house."

  "One that we worked very hard for," said Tammy. "And there's four of us and the kids aren't going to get any smaller. What did you do to get that house?" she repeated as she shot more darts from her eyes at me. "What did Aunt Edie think you would do with it all by yourself?"

  "I didn't do anything," I told her again. "But I came back to work on my vacations and almost every college break. I helped Aunt Edie out. She asked you if you wanted to earn some money by working there during your vacations too but you were always off somewhere else with your friends."

  "I was in college! Where were you after that? Did you help Aunt Edie out after you left town altogether? No, you were too busy leading your high and mighty life in Chicago."

  "That's not fair!"

  "Enough!" Dad banged a hand on the table. "Tammy, it doesn't matter what you think is fair. Aunt Edie left the house to Vanessa and that's that. You have a perfectly nice house and Edie hoped Vanessa might want to live there like she did. She even said Vanessa was suited to running a small inn if she ever wanted to change careers."

  "She did?" I frowned.

  "Sure, she mentioned it a few times. She said you were a hard-worker and knew the, excuse the pun, ins and outs of running an inn. Plus, you loved the house as much as she did and she always appreciated that."

  "I loved it too!" said Tammy. "And I'm a hotel deputy manager. Or, at least, I used to be." She handed Joseph his sippy-cup after he waddled over and reached for it, then dabbed his mouth off after he drank.

  "Do you love it enough to deeply clean it from the top to the bottom?" I asked.

  Tammy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "You're not seriously going to clean it yourself?" she asked.

  "No."

  "Hah! Didn't think so!"

  "Tia Peterson is going to help me, and I intend to hire someone to replace the window, and the dry rot on the siding, and paint the exterior. I'll probably get help when I tackle the garden too." My turn to shoot my sister a smug look. It sounded like I had it all worked out.

  "I'll bring over my electric hedge trimmer and we can hack those blackberry bushes back," said Dad. "A good hard prune and you'll get some great fruit next year. Remember when Edie used to bring us all those jars of homemade jam? We had them for weeks."

  "She used to sell them at the farmer's market too," I reminded them. "She made all kinds of things from what she grew in her garden. Raspberries, rhubarb and apples."

  "She never could get her strawberries to grow," added Mom. "I miss those yummy jams."

  "I'll try and salvage any of the plants and vines I find. They'll be a good selling point," I told them. I couldn’t help thinking back to when the yard was beautiful and abundant with seasonal crops. People were always there too, and Aunt Edie mastered the art of hosting summer parties. She and her husband, my great uncle, John, were keen entertainers.

  "Yeah, people will totally forget about the corpse we planted there so long as they can pick fresh apples every year," sneered Tammy.

  "Someone must know who he is," I replied, ignoring her.

  "Detective Logan showed us a photo," said Mom. Tammy and I both pulled a face. I, because I'd seen the real version, and Tammy because she was squeamish. "He put his thumb over the guy's forehead. I could see enough of his face not to recognize him."

  "I don't know," said Dad. "There was something familiar about him."

  "You think you might know him?" I asked.

  "No, definitely not in my everyday life but there was something about him that I can't quite put my finger on. I might have met him once. Perhaps he was a tourist that stayed at The Blackberry Inn once, or maybe he came to town every year," said Dad. He pushed back his chair and stretched out his legs.

  "Everyone knows the Inn has been shut for years, so why turn up in the middle of the night?" I asked. "And who would have shot him and just left him there?"

  "More questions than we can answer. Leave it to Detective Logan, honey," said Mom.

  Dad rolled his shoulders as he got to his feet and began to gather the plates to load the dishwasher. Despite the topics discussed, it was a lovely brunch and even though Tammy let her envy about my inheritance raise its ugly head, it was nice to see her and the kids.

  "The sooner you can sell it the better," said Tammy as she passed her plate to Dad. "How much will you add to the kids’ college savings?"

  "Pardon?" I asked, blinking.

  "Well, you're not going to keep all that money yourself! What do you need it for?" she asked. "Do you know how expensive it is to send two kids to college?"

  "Yes," chorused Mom and Dad.

  "I think it's only fair."

  "I'm going to leave now," I said, ignoring her. The last thing I wanted to do was get into an argument on my first day home, especially when Tammy was so determined to keep carping about how unfair it was that Aunt Edie left the majority of her estate to me. "I need to call a locksmith and get started on the cleaning. Mom, Dad, thanks for coming over and checking on me and thanks again for the breakfast."

  "Do you want me to come with you?" asked Mom. Dad straightened up from the dishwasher and nodded, apparently ready to do whatever Mom and I decided.

  "No, really, I'm fine."

  "Call us anytime," said Mom. "I can come by later with dinner if you like? Or you can come here if the dust gets to be too much?"

  "Tia and I are having a sleepover party with pizza," I told her as she followed me to the door. I opened it, and hesitated on the porch. "Mom, do you agree with Tammy?" I asked quietly.

  "About what?"

  "About Aunt Edie leaving me the house. Was I the right person for her to leave it to?"

  "Yes,
I think so. It was Edie's house and she could have given it to whomever she pleased. Plus, Tammy keeps conveniently forgetting about the beautiful jewelry Edie left her. I’ll remind her about that again."

  I waved goodbye as I walked down the path that bordered each side with pretty flowering plants, and hopped into my car. I was glad I had the prescience to follow my parents home instead of riding in their car. I drove home, putting off the call to Nate for as long as I could. Unfortunately, there was no way I could avoid hiring him. While at my parents, I checked the references of several other construction crews and they were either too busy with other jobs or their disgruntled clients had no recommendations for them.

  I knew I hurt Nate’s feelings but I never meant what I said. Not exactly. It wasn't that I didn't want to see him; I just didn't want things to be awkward. Our friendship was shipwrecked on a confused and angry note and we’d barely spoken since then. I didn't want to rehash it again and I could not pretend it never happened. No, I couldn't. Nate was once my best friend. He played a role in almost every childhood memory I had... and I was leaving Calendar again. I wasn't staying very long anyway. If we spent any time together, I knew we'd both just get hurt all over again.

  Unfortunately, I had no choice. I didn't know any other locksmiths in town and a murderer was on the loose. At least I could rely on Nate for one thing above anything else, he was trustworthy.

  The police cars were all gone by the time I pulled up outside The Blackberry Inn. On the drive over, I imagined a dozen scenarios of how to call him, from grovelling apologies to formal explanations.

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled my numbers. I didn't need Nate's business card. His name was still in my phone all this time.

  "Hey," Nate said on answering.

  "Hey, it's Vanessa. Vanessa Wright..."

  "I know who it is," he cut in. "Your name came up on my screen."

  "Oh, yes, of course. Um, so, could I hire you to change all the locks at The Blackberry Inn? Detective Logan says I need to because the dead guy might have broken in and it's not..."