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Book: Bound To Die: A Cozy Mystery (Strawberry Shores Mystery Book 1) by Mak K. Han
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Authors: Mak K. Han
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it.
Harold was out of the pool of suspects. Sure, there was the possibility that he'd been working with someone, and that the date had been an elaborate ruse to distract me. Still, why would Harold even suspect me? Why wouldn't he focus on the more pressing issue, Sheriff Caldwell? The whole theory that Harold was working with a partner didn't hold much water so I'd all but done away with it. It had been unlikely that he was a suspect.
Which left Jane Brooks, Chester Rutherford, and Susan. It was looking more and more like I was wasting my time. Even if Jane had committed the murder, how could I prove it? Aside from her admission that she'd visited the secret room after the murder, I had no evidence against her. I barely knew anything about Chester Rutherford, other than that he had a motive. In this town, just about everyone had a bone to pick with dear old Edward Brooks. Susan was my best lead.
Speaking of Susan, I found her in the back of the library. I heard sobbing and traced it to its source. I found her leaning over a table, covering the mouthpiece of her phone with her hand. Her eyes and cheeks were red and puffy and her hair was a mess, like she'd been running her hand through it over and over. I waved at her and when I had her attention, pointed at the invisible watch on my wrist. She nodded and waved me away. I headed back to the counter.
“Five already?” Susan said a few minutes later as she returned to the front of the library. She sniffled.
“Yeah. What was that about?”
Susan shook her head. “Nothing. Just an argument.”
“It was more than nothing. Who were you arguing with?”
Susan sighed. “Chester.”
“Rutherford?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We're together.”
I leaned back against the counter with my arms crossed. “Together? Like...together-together?”
Susan nodded again. “Together-together. It wasn't anything bad. He's just under a lot of stress at work because there are a couple people—people with less seniority than him—trying to get promoted to Mr. Brooks's old job. It just makes a lot of stress.”
“Sounds tough.” I'd all but lost interest in the conversation. Chester was with Susan—juicy gossip, sure, but it wasn't earth-shattering.
Susan was still interested. “It happens every now and then. We argued at the carnival,” she laughed nervously and rolled her eyes. “We pick the best times...”
“I don't remember you arguing at the carnival?”
“Yeah. We're trying to keep our relationship under wraps. It's nice to have some privacy every now and then, you know? With Miss Tisdell running around, that's not always an option. At the carnival when things started to go south, we headed across the street to the gas station.”
My ears perked up. I opened my mouth to speak and then stopped. The last thing I wanted was for Susan to think I was interrogating her. If she got the sense I suspected her, it might strain our relationship. I came at her from a different angle. “You guys must have been sneaky. Then again, all the excitement with the secret room was probably a good distraction.”
It worked. “We missed all the excitement with Mr. Brooks. We left before it happened.”
I played it cool. Hearing Susan say that was sort of bittersweet. In a way, I was glad she wasn't the killer. She was my friend, after all. Another part of me, though, wished she was the killer. It would have been exciting to catch the killer on my own. And seeing as Susan was my number one suspect, vindicating her meant one thing—all of my other suspects had motives, but I had nothing on them.
Nothing.
As we finished closing the library and I started home, I couldn't help but despair a little bit. Sheriff Caldwell had gotten nowhere with the case. I'd gotten nowhere with the case.
As I walked home that evening, I resolved to go to the gas station the next day and see if I could see the security footage from the Carnival, just to make sure. Somehow, though, I knew Susan was
Harold was out of the pool of suspects. Sure, there was the possibility that he'd been working with someone, and that the date had been an elaborate ruse to distract me. Still, why would Harold even suspect me? Why wouldn't he focus on the more pressing issue, Sheriff Caldwell? The whole theory that Harold was working with a partner didn't hold much water so I'd all but done away with it. It had been unlikely that he was a suspect.
Which left Jane Brooks, Chester Rutherford, and Susan. It was looking more and more like I was wasting my time. Even if Jane had committed the murder, how could I prove it? Aside from her admission that she'd visited the secret room after the murder, I had no evidence against her. I barely knew anything about Chester Rutherford, other than that he had a motive. In this town, just about everyone had a bone to pick with dear old Edward Brooks. Susan was my best lead.
Speaking of Susan, I found her in the back of the library. I heard sobbing and traced it to its source. I found her leaning over a table, covering the mouthpiece of her phone with her hand. Her eyes and cheeks were red and puffy and her hair was a mess, like she'd been running her hand through it over and over. I waved at her and when I had her attention, pointed at the invisible watch on my wrist. She nodded and waved me away. I headed back to the counter.
“Five already?” Susan said a few minutes later as she returned to the front of the library. She sniffled.
“Yeah. What was that about?”
Susan shook her head. “Nothing. Just an argument.”
“It was more than nothing. Who were you arguing with?”
Susan sighed. “Chester.”
“Rutherford?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We're together.”
I leaned back against the counter with my arms crossed. “Together? Like...together-together?”
Susan nodded again. “Together-together. It wasn't anything bad. He's just under a lot of stress at work because there are a couple people—people with less seniority than him—trying to get promoted to Mr. Brooks's old job. It just makes a lot of stress.”
“Sounds tough.” I'd all but lost interest in the conversation. Chester was with Susan—juicy gossip, sure, but it wasn't earth-shattering.
Susan was still interested. “It happens every now and then. We argued at the carnival,” she laughed nervously and rolled her eyes. “We pick the best times...”
“I don't remember you arguing at the carnival?”
“Yeah. We're trying to keep our relationship under wraps. It's nice to have some privacy every now and then, you know? With Miss Tisdell running around, that's not always an option. At the carnival when things started to go south, we headed across the street to the gas station.”
My ears perked up. I opened my mouth to speak and then stopped. The last thing I wanted was for Susan to think I was interrogating her. If she got the sense I suspected her, it might strain our relationship. I came at her from a different angle. “You guys must have been sneaky. Then again, all the excitement with the secret room was probably a good distraction.”
It worked. “We missed all the excitement with Mr. Brooks. We left before it happened.”
I played it cool. Hearing Susan say that was sort of bittersweet. In a way, I was glad she wasn't the killer. She was my friend, after all. Another part of me, though, wished she was the killer. It would have been exciting to catch the killer on my own. And seeing as Susan was my number one suspect, vindicating her meant one thing—all of my other suspects had motives, but I had nothing on them.
Nothing.
As we finished closing the library and I started home, I couldn't help but despair a little bit. Sheriff Caldwell had gotten nowhere with the case. I'd gotten nowhere with the case.
As I walked home that evening, I resolved to go to the gas station the next day and see if I could see the security footage from the Carnival, just to make sure. Somehow, though, I knew Susan was
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