Read Online Town in a Strawberry Swirl (Candy Holliday Mystery) by B.B. Haywood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: B.B. Haywood
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took a breath before she continued. “I’m saying the shovel wasn’t left there by accident, Dad. Whoever murdered Miles left it there on purpose.”
EIGHT
Doc was silent for a long time. He stood almost stone-still, hands deep in his back pockets, facedrawn. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, edged with concern. “You’re saying someone in this town left that shovel beside Mile’s body to implicate
us
in this murder?”
Candy leaned in a little closer to her father and lowered her voice, just in case other ears were around. “When you put it that way, it sounds pretty dramatic. But yes, I think it’s possible. At the same time, part of me says it’s not very likely they were trying to implicate us specifically.”
Doc was surprised by this comment. “How do you figure that?”
“Like I said, something about all this doesn’t add up.” Candy lowered her voice even more. “It just doesn’t make sense—not when you think it through. Let’s assume for a moment the shovel was left there on purpose to incriminate us. That means, one, the killer knew you were coming out here today, and two, the killer took the shovel from our barn months ago in anticipation of today’s events. He or she held on to it all this time, until this morning, and then left it up there in the hoophouse for the police to find right after you stumbled across the body, all to incriminate you or me in Miles’s murder. It’s just too far-fetched. You made your appointment with Miles only a week ago. How would the murderer have known to steal the shovel from our barn last spring?”
“Hmm,” Doc said, rubbing at his chin. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“Then there’s the question of motive,” Candy continued. “What could the murderer have hoped to achieve by framing you or me for the murder? What’s the point?”
Doc had a quick answer for that one, his eyes widening as he spoke. “Maybe the point was to get us both arrested and thrown into jail!”
“Yes, but again that’s not realistic. Look at the facts,” Candy pressed. “For one thing, we both have pretty solid alibis. We can both prove where we were today. I was at the office all morning before stopping at the bakery—that’s where I got your phone call—and you were at the diner with the boys all morning, right? That’s where you were just before you came out here?”
Doc nodded. “I walked out of the diner at a quarter to ten,” he confirmed.
“Right. And we’re a few miles out of town here. By the time you walked out to your truck, started it up, sat in traffic at the light, and followed a long line of cars out of town like I did, it must have taken you, what, ten or fifteen minutes to drive out here? That means you arrived right around ten o’clock.”
“A couple of minutes before ten,” Doc confirmed.
“Okay, so you found the body right after that, just a few minutes later. What time did you call the police?”
“Ten-oh-seven,” Doc said. “It’s time-stamped on my phone. I checked it with Officer Prospect. She wrote it down in her report.”
“Good, so we have a time frame. And overall it works in your favor.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, the window is too tight, isn’t it? While it’s certainly possible you could have driven out here in record time, tracked down Miles in the hoophouse, snuck up behind him, whacked him over the head, dropped the shovel on the dirt floor, and called the police, all in a space of about twenty minutes, the facts are your old truck just doesn’t move that fast, and neither do you these days, with that limp of yours.”
“I beg your pardon,” Doc said with a hint of gruffness.
“Nothing personal, Dad. I’m just stating the facts. I’m pointing out that you didn’t really have an opportunity to kill Miles, given the time constraints, and why it doesn’t make sense for the killer to make it appear that way. Besides, we both know you’re not a stupid person, right?”
“I
EIGHT
Doc was silent for a long time. He stood almost stone-still, hands deep in his back pockets, facedrawn. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, edged with concern. “You’re saying someone in this town left that shovel beside Mile’s body to implicate
us
in this murder?”
Candy leaned in a little closer to her father and lowered her voice, just in case other ears were around. “When you put it that way, it sounds pretty dramatic. But yes, I think it’s possible. At the same time, part of me says it’s not very likely they were trying to implicate us specifically.”
Doc was surprised by this comment. “How do you figure that?”
“Like I said, something about all this doesn’t add up.” Candy lowered her voice even more. “It just doesn’t make sense—not when you think it through. Let’s assume for a moment the shovel was left there on purpose to incriminate us. That means, one, the killer knew you were coming out here today, and two, the killer took the shovel from our barn months ago in anticipation of today’s events. He or she held on to it all this time, until this morning, and then left it up there in the hoophouse for the police to find right after you stumbled across the body, all to incriminate you or me in Miles’s murder. It’s just too far-fetched. You made your appointment with Miles only a week ago. How would the murderer have known to steal the shovel from our barn last spring?”
“Hmm,” Doc said, rubbing at his chin. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“Then there’s the question of motive,” Candy continued. “What could the murderer have hoped to achieve by framing you or me for the murder? What’s the point?”
Doc had a quick answer for that one, his eyes widening as he spoke. “Maybe the point was to get us both arrested and thrown into jail!”
“Yes, but again that’s not realistic. Look at the facts,” Candy pressed. “For one thing, we both have pretty solid alibis. We can both prove where we were today. I was at the office all morning before stopping at the bakery—that’s where I got your phone call—and you were at the diner with the boys all morning, right? That’s where you were just before you came out here?”
Doc nodded. “I walked out of the diner at a quarter to ten,” he confirmed.
“Right. And we’re a few miles out of town here. By the time you walked out to your truck, started it up, sat in traffic at the light, and followed a long line of cars out of town like I did, it must have taken you, what, ten or fifteen minutes to drive out here? That means you arrived right around ten o’clock.”
“A couple of minutes before ten,” Doc confirmed.
“Okay, so you found the body right after that, just a few minutes later. What time did you call the police?”
“Ten-oh-seven,” Doc said. “It’s time-stamped on my phone. I checked it with Officer Prospect. She wrote it down in her report.”
“Good, so we have a time frame. And overall it works in your favor.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, the window is too tight, isn’t it? While it’s certainly possible you could have driven out here in record time, tracked down Miles in the hoophouse, snuck up behind him, whacked him over the head, dropped the shovel on the dirt floor, and called the police, all in a space of about twenty minutes, the facts are your old truck just doesn’t move that fast, and neither do you these days, with that limp of yours.”
“I beg your pardon,” Doc said with a hint of gruffness.
“Nothing personal, Dad. I’m just stating the facts. I’m pointing out that you didn’t really have an opportunity to kill Miles, given the time constraints, and why it doesn’t make sense for the killer to make it appear that way. Besides, we both know you’re not a stupid person, right?”
“I
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