Read Online Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) by Carol Durand, Summer Prescott - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol Durand, Summer Prescott
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the mayor to report that things had actually gone much better than she
had anticipated, leaving out her feelings about having been hit on earlier in
the day by the prospective groom. The magnanimous official told her that
whatever she had been planning on charging him, she should double it.
Chapter 15
Because
she had handled the difficult situation with aplomb, Missy felt that she was
certainly brave enough to handle slipping into her own home to gather some
personal items for her stay at Chas’s, and headed for her neighborhood, despite
repeated warnings from Chas and the police that she should stay away.
Rather
than pulling into her driveway and parking in the garage, she parked on the
next block and took a path between houses to approach her stately Victorian
from the rear. Her heart rate sped up as she slipped stealthily onto the back
porch and unlocked the door, hoping that the police had retrieved all the
evidence that they needed, so that she wouldn’t be impeding the investigation
by disturbing the scene.
Missy
walked quietly through the kitchen, tiptoeing as though she was the intruder,
then, realizing how silly she was being, she made an effort to breathe and move
normally. Sure enough, the basket of dog toys was missing, which made her
unreasonably sad, and when she crossed into the living room to look at the
space where her grandmother’s painting had hung, she gasped in horror, fumbling
in her purse for her phone.
Chas
Beckett sped to Missy’s house frustrated that she had gone in when he’d
strongly advised her not to, and concerned because of her reaction to what she
had found. He saw her sitting on the front porch, head in her hands when he
pulled up, and when she raised her head, hearing his car in the drive, her
expression was a strange mix of fear and relief.
“What
is it? What’s wrong?” the detective asked after mounting the porch steps two at
a time. His eyes darted about, looking for anything amiss.
“Donna
didn’t do this, Chas,” Missy stated, wide-eyed.
“What
makes you say that?” he asked, frowning. All evidence seemed to indicate that
the teenager was the murderer and burglar. He was still waiting for results
from the autopsy and handwriting specialist, but had assumed that they would
merely confirm what was already assumed.
Missy
took him by the hand and led him to the living room, coming to a halt in front
of the spot where her grandmother’s painting had hung, and where the burglar
had scrawled a threatening message. “See this?” she pointed at the message, “ Your
next, ” that was scrawled in red crayon on the wall in place of the missing
painting. “Donna couldn’t have done this. She was a straight A student, and
even though she wasn’t awarded the scholarship for cooking school, she was the
editor of the school paper and was nominated for several other partial
scholarships.”
Chas
looked at the wall, then back at Missy, figuring out what she was saying. “So,
if Donna had written this, it would’ve been spelled correctly,” he nodded,
frowning.
“Exactly!
She would never have confused your and you’re , but that’s not
all…” Missy said excitedly.
“Okay,
what else?” the detective asked, his admiration for her growing by the second.
“I
had lunch today with Priscilla Chadwick, and found out that her fiancé was
Carlton Dobbs.”
The
detective grimace upon hearing Carlton’s name. “And?”
“And,
when Carlton sat down, Priscilla remarked that he had something on his suit,
and I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but from where I sat, it certainly
looked like exactly this shade of red crayon,” she pointed at the message
again.
“I’m
certainly not averse to the idea of putting Dobbs behind bars for a very long
time,” Chas admitted wryly. “But why would he do something like this? He seemed
to be quite fond of you,” the detective observed, gritting his teeth.
“He
probably did it to make it look like Donna was guilty, and, not
had anticipated, leaving out her feelings about having been hit on earlier in
the day by the prospective groom. The magnanimous official told her that
whatever she had been planning on charging him, she should double it.
Chapter 15
Because
she had handled the difficult situation with aplomb, Missy felt that she was
certainly brave enough to handle slipping into her own home to gather some
personal items for her stay at Chas’s, and headed for her neighborhood, despite
repeated warnings from Chas and the police that she should stay away.
Rather
than pulling into her driveway and parking in the garage, she parked on the
next block and took a path between houses to approach her stately Victorian
from the rear. Her heart rate sped up as she slipped stealthily onto the back
porch and unlocked the door, hoping that the police had retrieved all the
evidence that they needed, so that she wouldn’t be impeding the investigation
by disturbing the scene.
Missy
walked quietly through the kitchen, tiptoeing as though she was the intruder,
then, realizing how silly she was being, she made an effort to breathe and move
normally. Sure enough, the basket of dog toys was missing, which made her
unreasonably sad, and when she crossed into the living room to look at the
space where her grandmother’s painting had hung, she gasped in horror, fumbling
in her purse for her phone.
Chas
Beckett sped to Missy’s house frustrated that she had gone in when he’d
strongly advised her not to, and concerned because of her reaction to what she
had found. He saw her sitting on the front porch, head in her hands when he
pulled up, and when she raised her head, hearing his car in the drive, her
expression was a strange mix of fear and relief.
“What
is it? What’s wrong?” the detective asked after mounting the porch steps two at
a time. His eyes darted about, looking for anything amiss.
“Donna
didn’t do this, Chas,” Missy stated, wide-eyed.
“What
makes you say that?” he asked, frowning. All evidence seemed to indicate that
the teenager was the murderer and burglar. He was still waiting for results
from the autopsy and handwriting specialist, but had assumed that they would
merely confirm what was already assumed.
Missy
took him by the hand and led him to the living room, coming to a halt in front
of the spot where her grandmother’s painting had hung, and where the burglar
had scrawled a threatening message. “See this?” she pointed at the message, “ Your
next, ” that was scrawled in red crayon on the wall in place of the missing
painting. “Donna couldn’t have done this. She was a straight A student, and
even though she wasn’t awarded the scholarship for cooking school, she was the
editor of the school paper and was nominated for several other partial
scholarships.”
Chas
looked at the wall, then back at Missy, figuring out what she was saying. “So,
if Donna had written this, it would’ve been spelled correctly,” he nodded,
frowning.
“Exactly!
She would never have confused your and you’re , but that’s not
all…” Missy said excitedly.
“Okay,
what else?” the detective asked, his admiration for her growing by the second.
“I
had lunch today with Priscilla Chadwick, and found out that her fiancé was
Carlton Dobbs.”
The
detective grimace upon hearing Carlton’s name. “And?”
“And,
when Carlton sat down, Priscilla remarked that he had something on his suit,
and I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but from where I sat, it certainly
looked like exactly this shade of red crayon,” she pointed at the message
again.
“I’m
certainly not averse to the idea of putting Dobbs behind bars for a very long
time,” Chas admitted wryly. “But why would he do something like this? He seemed
to be quite fond of you,” the detective observed, gritting his teeth.
“He
probably did it to make it look like Donna was guilty, and, not
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