Key Lime Crime: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 1 Page 12

  "What could the chief want?"

  My curiosity wouldn't allow me to go to bed without knowing the reason for Sam Martin calling. It had to have been important. In a small town like Sunny Shores, calling someone after nine was considered rude. Manners aside, I needed to know.

  "Hi Sam. It's me, Kara. I'm sorry I missed your call, but I fell asleep early tonight."

  "Kara, I'm glad you called back. There's been a new discovery in the case."

  "Oh, really?" I perked up quickly.

  "You know how Tom’s been missing? We found him tonight."

  "That's a relief."

  "Not exactly," he said as his voice changed to a more somber tone. "We found him, but he's dead."

  My mood changed from hopeful to gloomy in a matter of seconds. Three deaths in less than one week. It was just too much.

  "His body was found at the Motel 6 in Ocala. He was discovered by the maid early this morning. He suffered what appears to be a stab wound to the chest. The maid found him in a pool of his own blood. Not a pretty sight."

  "Oh, my. Who do you think could have done it? Do you think it's connected to the Harmon case?"

  "It's too early to tell. It does appear that he's been dead for over 48 hours. At this point, I wouldn’t rule anything out," he said as he took a deep breath. "Nothing makes sense anymore." All of a sudden, my mind switched focus. I thought about Will. "Does Will know? Tom was his business partner. He's been worried sick about him."

  "I'm not sure. Look, Kara, the reason I called was to warn you. If this is related to the Harmon case, it proves that the killer will stop at nothing to cover his tracks. This person means business, serious business. I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

  "Sure, Sam. I understand."

  "I'm being serious about this, Kara. I could lose my job giving this type of information to a civilian before the investigation is complete. This action alone goes against our code, but I know you too well. You've done some great detective work on this case, frankly. I'm rather impressed. It needs to stop before you get hurt. I need you to promise me you will back away from this case. Promise?"

  "I promise." At this point, I was being truthful. Too many people had gotten hurt, and the killer was not one step closer to being captured. The responsible thing to do would be to walk away.

  "Good," he said while sounding surprised I didn't resist. "Look, I've got to run. I'm going to send a squad car by to check up on you. In the meantime, be careful and call me if anything seems suspicious."

  I easily hopped up from the couch and walked around the house. I checked each and every door and window, making sure every entry point was locked.

  The phone rang again, immediately startling me to the point I jumped. I was anxious and on edge after hearing the news of Tom's death.

  "Are you okay? I tried calling you earlier. It's not like you not to answer," Ty said. "You know how I worry."

  "I know. I know," I said, still trying to catch my breath. "Listen, I've got big news."

  "Hold that thought," he said, interrupting me before I could continue. "I've been searching the Internet all night using John's real name, and I found a big clue."

  "You did? What is it?"

  "I found a photo. Not only of him, but his son as well."

  "You did? Who's his son? Can you recognize him?"

  "No, not really. The photo is about ten years old."

  "What's the photo of?"

  "I found a listing on Craigslist where John was selling a boat of his. Attached to the listing was a photo of him with his son in front of the boat."

  "Send it to me. I'll hang up while you do it. Call me back, okay?"

  "Will do."

  I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. I stared at the phone, waiting impatiently for the text to arrive. I hoped the photo would be the clue we needed to finally identify the killer.

  Knock, knock, knock. I felt startled once again, as someone was banging on the front door. Without a second thought, I reached over behind the couch and picked up my aluminum bat as I walked toward the door; with each step, I gripped the bat tighter and tighter.

  I sighed in relief once I looked out the peephole. It was only Will.

  "Hey. I wasn't expecting you this evening," I said as I opened the door to greet him.

  "I apologize for coming unannounced, but I was getting worried about you. I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer. With all the craziness going around in town, I thought I'd check up on you. Hope you don't mind."

  "No, not at all. I'm sorry I didn't answer, but it's been a crazy day. Everything going on with the case, Ty's news, the thing with Tom—"

  Before I could finish, Will interjected. "Don't worry about Tom. I spoke with him this afternoon."

  "Wait, what?" I knew I was sleep deprived, but what Will was saying didn't make sense.

  "He's fine. Apparently, he was dealing with some family issues and has been in Atlanta for the last couple days. Although he's not sure of when he'll be able to come back," Will explained. "From the sound of it, it might be a while."

  My intuition began to sound off sirens. What was he talking about? None of it made sense.

  Before I could process it all, the text alert on my phone went off. I looked down at my phone and it was Ty. "Can you excuse me for just one minute? I need to run upstairs for a bit, but you can have a seat on the couch. I'll be right back."

  “Okay…"

  Will appeared confused and perplexed by the way I acted. He wore a puzzled look on his face as he slowly made his way to the couch. Tension thickened in the air.

  Skipping every other step, I walked quickly up the stairs. I entered my room and closed the door behind me. I took a deep breath as I sat on the bed and opened Ty's message.

  The photo loaded slowly, for what seemed like an eternity. Once fully downloaded, I examined it. The photo was precisely what Ty described. I focused on the boy in the photo. While he did look familiar, I failed to properly identify him. I kept staring, hell-bent on figuring it out.

  Right before the point of giving up, I glanced momentarily at the boat. It was at that point I discovered I was focusing on the wrong detail. The real clue of the photo wasn't the boy. The real answer was the boat itself. But more importantly, the name.

  The Salty Mutt

  My heart sank quickly, like an anchor. All the puzzle pieces in my brain started to piece together. The killer's identity was now obvious. He was sitting in my living room.

  "Is everything OK in there?" Will's voice called out from the other side of my bedroom door.

  My heart began to race as I realized the possibility of a murderer being outside my door. Only a two inch slab of wood separated us. I didn't like my odds.

  "I'm good," I said as I tried to cover up the nervousness in my voice. I was unsuccessful in that attempt as my voice shot up a few octaves. "I'll be down in a sec."

  "This is crazy," I whispered to myself as I tried to convince myself I was wrong. The notion that Will murdered those innocent people seemed ridiculous. Every time Will and I hung out, he appeared normal. How could I not have noticed something strange about him?

  "I have this crazy story to tell you about the loony dude that paints on the boardwalk. You'll love it, I'm sure," he said as he continued to stand outside my door. Could this guy not take a hint?

  "Willie?" I asked.

  "Yeah, that's him."

  Immediately, my mind shifted gears. I recalled the last thing Willie said during our conversation the other morning.

  "Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer."

  What I thought at the time was incoherent rambling was actual brilliant. Willie made perfect sense.

  It suddenly occurred to me why Will wanted to spend so much time with me. He wanted to keep an eye on my investigation. That was how he kept one step ahead of me at all times. He only pretended to like me, so he could prevent me from getting too close to solving the murder.

  At first, my heart sank
at the notion that he’d used me. He fractured my already fractured ego. That feeling quickly dissipated as I remembered a killer stood outside my door.

  24

  I could sense Will's impatience growing, but I needed to be sure my assumption stood correct. But how?

  An idea popped into my head. I walked over to my dresser and searched frantically. "It's here somewhere. I know it."

  "Kara?" Will said as I heard him touch the door knob.

  "Ah ha," I exclaimed as I reached out and retrieved the thing I was looking for. It was the slip of paper where Will wrote down his number. I carefully examined the W on it and compared it to the W on the suicide note. It was a match.

  "Bingo," I shouted out. Although I felt proud I put the pieces together, the realization that a murderer stood in my house took me back to reality.

  At that moment, Will opened the door and walked into my room. I smiled nervously. No doubt I looked as if I had something to hide.

  "Umm...I'm not feeling too well," I said as I scooted back away from him. "If you don't mind, I'm going to bed. I'll call you in the morning."

  Will continued to inch closer to me. I felt uncomfortable as he clearly missed the hint of me wanting him to leave.

  "It's you, isn't it," I asked as I glanced out the corner of my eye. I tried to locate my cell phone. I hoped I could pick it up, nonchalantly, of course. "Will Green."

  "Will Green, who's that?" he said. His tone sounded nervous, as if he was trying to hide something.

  I was fed up and didn't care anymore. I'd grown sick of people, especially men, lying to me.

  "Stop lying to me, Will. I know you did it."

  "Did what, Kara? What are you getting at?"

  "Don't play stupid with me. You murdered them. John Harmon, Missy, and even Todd. It all makes sense now."

  "I think you need to have a seat on the bed. You've obviously gone mad," he said as he continued to inch closer to me. "You need to calm down."

  "The extra propane tank wasn't ordered by Todd. It was ordered by you. You knew because your father was an avid smoker, he'd light the truck up with one puff. That's why you sent him a text to meet you at the Mama Mia Food truck. It's also why you slashed Chris's tires, so he would be late. Leaving you and John alone."

  "That's crazy."

  "You figured it would be ruled an accident. Grove Park provided the perfect venue. No security cameras. But because I had video, it ruined it all. So you had to throw everyone off your scent by killing Missy and staging it as a suicide. Too bad the handwriting matches yours and not hers."

  He continued to move closer to me. I looked down and noticed his mud-stained tennis shoes. My mind flashed back to the night my window was broken. I didn't put it together at the time, but Will's shoes were muddy. The person that broke my window stomped through my flower bed, which was wet from an afternoon shower.

  "You broke my window that night. Your shoes were muddy from walking through my garden. If you were truly just jogging on the street, why where your shoes muddy?"

  "What do you want from me, Kara? What do you want me to say?"

  "I want you to admit you killed those people. Admit you’re truly a monster."

  I reached over and picked up my phone and starting swiping my finger across it. Will responded by slapping it out my hand. He laughed as it slid across my bedroom floor.

  "OK, you win," he said as he looked directly into my eyes. "I killed them. You have no idea the kind of man my father was. He didn’t deserve a happy ending. Not after he took my mother away from me.”

  “I thought that your mother was killed in a car accident. The police report stated that the accident was the fault of the other driver.”

  “It was entirely my father’s fault. My dad had been drinking all day and was drunk. I remember to this day how bad he was that night. My mother begged and pleaded for him to stay home, but he kept insisting he was fine. She only rode with him because she was worried about him.”

  “There was nothing in the police report that would point to a DUI.”

  “Of course it was covered up. My father was running for state senate at the time.”

  “How could you murder your own father?”

  "My father was the true monster, don't you ever forget that. All I did was exterminate the monster and make things right again. I never planned on killing Todd and Missy. Those two were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kind of like you."

  "I don't understand. Why do this now? After all these years, why come to Sunny Shores? Why bring the pain back into your life?"

  "I was doing fine on my own. I started a new life in Jacksonville and was happy. It wasn't until the letter came that all those years of bottled up frustration came pouring back out."

  "What letter?"

  Will reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn, folded up letter. He unfolded it slowly and handed it to me. "This letter."

  I opened the envelope and took out the letter. Folded up inside the letter was a family photo, of John, Missy, and Chris. The three of them appeared to be very happy.

  "When I saw the photo and read the letter, I grew angry thinking about how happy my father was with his new life. He had disposed of my mother and me, acted like we didn't exist.”

  As he continued to talk, I looked around the room and tried to find a way out. It was no use, as he’d cornered me. I didn’t want to die, not that night, especially with my hair looking like this.

  “I wish you would have stayed out of this and minded your own business,” he said as he pulled a gun from his back pocket. “I didn’t want to have to do this.”

  I closed my eyes as I feared the worst. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should have minded my own business.

  I heard a loud thud, but it wasn’t a gun shot. I opened my eyes to see what happened.

  To my surprise, my friend Ty stood over the unconscious body of Will. Ty looked heroic as he held my baseball bat in his hand.

  He smiled. “What do you think of my swing now?”

  I walked over and put my arms around him. A flurry of emotions rushed through me as I held him tight. I whispered into his ear, “Thank you.”

  “I started to worry when you didn’t answer my call. So to keep my mind at ease, I drove by your house. When I saw your door wide open, I knew something was wrong.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re always screaming at Star and me to keep the door shut on the truck.”

  A few minutes later, Sam Martin and two other officers arrived at the scene. Ty and I gave our stories to Sam, while the other two police officers cuffed Will. As they stood him up, he regained consciousness.

  “What proof do you have? None of what you told me earlier would hold up in court,” he said as he struggled with the officers.

  “That might be true,” I said as I walked over and picked up my cell phone off the floor. “I have something better.”

  “What’s that?” Will asked.

  I smiled. “Your confession.”

  When I picked my phone up previously, Will assumed I attempted to make a call. Unfortunately for him, my plans were different. I knew I wouldn’t have time to call anyone, so I opened up the voice recorder app on my phone and hit the record button. Our entire conversation, which included his confession, was recorded.

  “Good work,” Sam said as he winked and smiled. “Maybe we will make a detective out of you yet.”

  As they took Will away, I handed Sam the letter Will received in the mail. It was the same letter that started this whole mess in the beginning. Who knew? It may prove useful in the future, because one question still remained.

  Who sent the letter to Will?

  25

  The next morning at work, there was a noticeably lighter mood around Grove Park. A dark cloud of fear and anxiety no longer hovered over the park. I could tell the other food truck owners felt a sense of relief. The one person that threatened our safety was behind bars. Things could finally get back to norm
al. Well… as normal as possible in our quirky town.

  For me personally, I felt better than I had in months. Ever since my father died, I felt emptiness inside. It was a void that nothing at the time could fill, not even my ex or career aspirations.

  There was a chance the void left by my father would never be filled, but for the first time in a while I felt happy.

  By helping solve the murder of John Harmon, I felt a sense of personal accomplishment. But even more than that, I felt like I was helping my father's legacy live on.

  Getting all the prep work in that morning was almost impossible. Every few minutes, another person would stop by and congratulate me on solving the case. Of course, I'd correct them by telling them I couldn't have done it without help from my friends. I felt they deserved just as much credit.

  "How in the world are we ever going to get anything done," Star said as she threw her hands up in frustration. "We open in less than an hour. Why aren't you stressing out?"

  I'll admit that seeing Star run around the truck like a chicken with its head cut off tickled my funny bone. It was encouraging to see Star so invested. When I first met her, she didn't seem to care about anything. That role was reserved for me normally, but I felt a sense of calm come over me. I'd almost forgotten how that felt.