Independence Day Murder Page 3

  "Max, there is something weird in here," I said, tightening my grip on the boat as it started to rock back and forth slightly.

  "What do you mean?" Max grunted at me. The boat was parallel to shore now.

  "I mean that there is something in here and it doesn't feel right to me," I said, not sure how to explain it other than I had a gut feeling something wasn't right.

  "Hold on," Max said.

  He set the rope back up on the front of the boat and waded back to where I was standing. I pointed to the pile of life jackets on the floor. Max gave me an annoyed look.

  "So, maybe he cares about water safety?" Max said with a shrug.

  "Really?" I said. "The man who was barely piloting his own boat yesterday on one of the busiest times on the lake? But he makes sure to bring twenty life jackets?"

  Max nodded, not wanting to admit that I was right. He looked into the boat again, his mouth set in a determined line as he weighed back and forth what he should do. He wasn't on patrol, but I knew he didn't want to just go digging through someone's things.

  "I'm not sure we should go poking around in his things," Max said. "Scratch that, I know we shouldn't. Just hold on and I'll finish turning the boat."

  Max started scooting his way around to the front of the boat while I stayed at the back. By this point, my feet were covered in lake mire and I was not exactly a happy camper. That's when I heard something ringing. My phone was back on the beach and Max didn't seem to hear it, so it must be coming from inside the boat.

  I scanned the boat to see if I could spot the phone in a cup holder or on one of the seats, but I couldn't see it. That's when I realized it was coming from the pile of life jackets.

  "Max, I'm going to move the life jackets because there is a phone ringing underneath them," I said.

  Max turned but before he could stop me, I reached as far into the boat as I could, flinging life jackets off of the pile. After the third one, I could see what was making the pile look so large.

  Murray Biggs wasn't overly concerned with water safety. Murray Biggs was lying in the bottom of the boat with a bullet hole in his stomach.

  Chapter Five

  After I had uncovered Murray's body, Max had immediately called for backup. As we waited for more police officers to show up we finished turning the boat around and dragging it up onto the beach as far as we could. Somehow the discovery of a dead body had sped up our process considerably.

  The first patrol car rolled up on scene and Max went to meet them, leaving me with the simple job of ensuring that the boat didn't somehow drift back out onto the lake. I sat down on the sand, mulling over what we had found. This wasn't the first time I had stumbled on a murder scene but even though Murray was an awful person, I couldn't help but feel bad for him. No one deserved to die like this.

  I was lost in thought when a deep, female voice cut into my thoughts.

  "I'm here for my boat," a woman said. "Well not my boat, but apparently my good for nothing husband can't be found anywhere to come get it."

  I turned around and saw Carol Biggs walking down the beach. Her blonde hair was up in a french twist that looked like she had slept on it and her face seemed to be wearing faded makeup from the day before. She was wearing khaki capri pants and a gauzy tank top that was so wrinkled it looked like it had been pulled from the laundry hamper.

  As she got closer, I knew I had to stop her so that she didn't see inside of the boat. This was not the way someone should find out their spouse died, even if they didn't like their spouse. I jumped up out of the sand and dashed towards her, tripping over my own feet as they sunk down into the sand.

  "Mrs. Biggs, hello," I said. "You don't know me, but I'm Tessa Schmidt. I found the boat, but I really think we should wait over there until the cops can come talk to you."

  "You called the cops on me?" she sneered. Her contorted lips looked like they had been wearing lipstick at one point, but now half of it had worn off, leaving an oddly shaped clown mouth. "Why? I came to get the stupid boat. You didn't have to report it. Now I'll probably get a citation because my idiot husband didn't put his boat away. I haven't even seen Murray all morning, so I had to be the one to come over here and get it."

  I grabbed her lightly by the elbow, trying to turn her away from the boat. But as we turned away, we were facing the parking lot where Philip had started to make a perimeter around the beach with police tape. It was now officially a crime scene.

  "Why is he putting that up?" Carol asked. She was a bit unsteady on her feet and as she fell towards me, she smelled strongly of orange juice. I had a feeling she may have had a bit of a liquid breakfast already that morning. "Why is this a crime scene?"

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Max walking across the beach towards us. Carol's eyes tried to focus on my face as I stammered through some nonsense words until finally a phrase fell out of my mouth.

  "There's something in the boat," I said. "But don't go look."

  That was absolutely the wrong thing to say but as I tried to backtrack, Carol shook her arm free and dashed across the sand towards the boat. I was still falling all over the place as she ran up to the edge of the boat and let out a primal wail as she looked inside.

  Her white knuckles were grasping the edge of the boat when I reached her and I grabbed her around the torso as she slowly let go. Max reached us just in time to help me lower Carol gently down into the sand. She covered her face, her eyes wide. She didn't look sad so much as she was in shock. As jaded as I was from finding dead bodies before, I know how shocking it can be.

  "Mrs. Biggs, I'm going to have Tessa take you home," Max said. He put his hand on her shoulder. "We will be by later to talk to you, but I think you need to go home."

  Carol looked at him and nodded. Her face was blank and I wondered if she really understood what he had said. Max pressed his car keys into my hand and gave it a squeeze. He lingered for a moment and I knew he was letting me know that he loved me. I wanted to smile at him, but I squeezed his hand back instead.

  I stood up out of the sand and jogged over to where I had left my purse and shoes. Max helped Carol up out of the sand and I grabbed her other arm to help her to the car. Together Max and I half helped, half dragged her to the car. Max practically shoved her into the passenger seat, almost plopping her right on top of my half-eaten donut in the bag. I rescued my breakfast before clicking my seatbelt into place and starting the car.

  The short ride to the mansion where Carol and Murray lived was silent except for the radio. I turned it down so that it was just a low murmur, but I couldn't bear to turn it all the way off. It was hard enough to be driving a fresh widow home but doing it in complete stunned silence was unbearable. Usually I could relate to someone who had just lost a spouse. I had been through losing Peter and I knew exactly how it felt, but Carol was different. She and Murray hadn't been happy so I wasn't sure I could relate.

  Once I pulled the car into the driveway, Carol seemed to come back to life a bit. The large, white mansion with big pillars out front loomed over everything around it which was mostly water due to where it was located on a little peninsula that jutted out into Shady Lake. It felt so out of place in this small town, looking more like the kind of house that would be in a gated community of a rich suburb next to a big city.

  As I parked the car in the circular driveway outside of the front door, Carol seemed to embody her role as queen of the castle. She sat up straight and her shoulders rolled back. She took a deep breath and opened the car door, stepping out onto the driveway and stumbling towards the door as gracefully as she could.

  The door opened as we walked up and a middle-aged woman with a red, harsh, chin-length haircut tried to hurriedly hide behind it. I was a little surprised that anyone in Shady Lake would have a housekeeper, but one look at the house and I knew that there was no way Murray or Carol would be the ones cleaning the massive structure.

  "Good morning," I said to the woman, who stared at me with wide eyes. "My name is
Tessa. What is your name?"

  "That's Rebecca," Carol said. "She's our housekeeper. I suppose she's just my housekeeper now."

  Rebecca shut the door gently and shot a questioning look at Carol, who didn't seem to ever look straight at Rebecca. I tried to get a good look at Rebecca, who was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of ill-fitting pants that bagged at the knee. Honestly, I was a little surprised Murray and Carol didn't make her dress in some kind of maid's uniform.

  "What do you mean?" Rebecca asked after a moment. "Are you finally getting divorced?"

  "No, you ninny," Carol snapped. "Murray is dead."

  Rebecca's eyes grew wide under her blunt bangs. Her mouth opened and shut a few times as her eyebrows furrowed together. Carol stood in the entryway with her arms crossed. She was looking everywhere except at Rebecca. I slowly backed up until my back was against the door. This felt like a very private moment that I was intruding on.

  "That must be wrong," Rebecca finally said with a whimper.

  "Well it isn't, I saw his dead body," Carol snapped. "Somebody shot him and left him in that stupid boat he was so proud of. Now the police are investigating it."

  The color drained from Rebecca's face. I quickly grabbed her around the waist and helped her into the next room which thankfully had a couch that I helped her sit down on. Carol had reluctantly followed us in and walked over to a bar where she poured herself a drink.

  "Do you want something to drink, Miss?" Carol said, searching for my name before just giving up. I didn't bother to correct her or reintroduce myself. At the rate of her drink consumption, she probably wouldn't remember my name anyways.

  "No, no, that's alright," I said. "Is she alright?"

  Rebecca was on the couch, sobbing into a throw pillow. Carol looked at her before rolling her eyes and slamming back the rest of her drink. She poured more orange juice into the glass before adding a very large splash of vodka.

  "She's fine," Carol said. She took a sip of the drink and made a face. "My sister can be a bit dramatic sometimes and for some reason has a soft spot for Murray."

  "Wait, Rebecca is your housekeeper AND your sister?" I asked.

  Carol opened the vodka and added another glug to the glass while I looked back and forth between Carol and Rebecca. If I squinted I could see a bit of a resemblance as long as I looked beneath the makeup, cosmetic surgery, and hair styles, their facial features were similar.

  "We usually don't tell people, but yes, we are sisters," Rebecca said.

  I looked back at the couch to see that Rebecca had sat up. She was using the ends of her sleeves to dry her tears, which was mostly succeeding at smearing her eye makeup down her face and onto her sleeves.

  "I'm just glad the jerk is dead," Carol said. She was slurring her words even more now. "I'm not sad at all. He was a jerk and everyone knew it, but I knew it most of all."

  "The man just died," Rebecca said through tears. "Can't you have any respect?"

  "Respect?" Carol said. She stumbled across the living room towards the couch. "I would have respect for him if he would have respected me. Instead, I was forced to stay home and be a trophy wife. Then he moved us to this little hick town where everyone hated us. And that made me hate him too. I'm glad he died because I still have what I most liked about him: his money. I am a little sad that the fireworks were last night. I didn't get to see them and that would have been a nice celebration for me coming into all of this money."

  Carol's words hung between us in the air. I couldn't help but wonder if Carol was about to become suspect number one. She turned to face me, her eyes glazed over.

  "Rebecca and I grew up poor," she said. "We were trailer trash poor and we vowed that as adults we would never live like that. Murray was my meal ticket out of that and I was nice enough to drag Rebecca along with me."

  I had to wonder how nice it was to make your sister work as your housekeeper, but I didn't want to pry about their situation. Maybe Rebecca was okay with her situation. Either way, I was happy to hear a knock on the door.

  "I'll get that," I said, beating Rebecca to the front door.

  Outside, a couple of Shady Lake police officers were waiting to be let in so that they could talk to Carol. Besides the fact that Carol had seemed pretty shocked when she saw Murray, I couldn't help but wonder if she had been the one to kill him. If that were true, it would be a pretty open and shut case.

  I took the chance to leave and head back to the beach. Those firework shells weren't going to pick up themselves.

  Chapter Six

  Instead of staying at the beach, Max had insisted on driving me home. He knew my reputation for nosing around crime scenes and instead of letting me stay and clean up, he made Philip do it. Max drove me home himself to make sure I got there without stopping to snoop.

  Poor Philip had been on the night shift the night before and was now stumbling around bleary eyed as he scooped cardboard garbage into a bag. Max was right, of course, because part of my wanting to clean up the beach now included spying on the police as they processed the crime scene. I couldn't blame him for sending me home.

  I walked into the front door of the bed and breakfast, wondering if I would be able to fit in a nap. Even with all of the excitement of the morning, I was still feeling super tired. A short cat nap sounded so great. I even started imagining my bed and how comfortable it was going to be as soon as I got up to my bedroom.

  But Mandy was standing in the entryway when I got there. Not only was she at my house super early in the morning, but she was pulling an entire wagon piled full of stuff. The canvas sided wagon was piled with plastic grocery bags, all of which seemed to be full of things like tulle and boxes of bubbles.

  "Oh good, you're back just in time," she said. "Help me carry this up the stairs. We are making wedding favors today, remember?"

  My blank expression must have made her feel like she was putting this task in capable hands, I'm sure. I shook my head to try to get the sleepiness out and then helped her tote the heavy wagon up the main staircase and into the private family room area.

  "Good morning girls," my mother said with a wide smile. "Are we all ready to make wedding favors?"

  Apparently I was the only one to forget about this task because even my mom and my sisters were all sitting in the family room, ready to help. There was a folding table along the wall that had cinnamon rolls, coffee, and stuff to make mimosas. The coffee table had been cleared off as a workspace and a selection of romantic comedy movies were spread out in front of the TV for the bride to pick from as a crafting distraction.

  "Tell us what you need us to do for these favors and then I'll tell you about what I've been doing this morning," I said.

  "Yes, we would all love to hear about the mushy cardboard firework shells you've been cleaning up at the beach," Tilly said, rolling her eyes and giggling.

  "Oh, it got much more exciting than that," I said.

  Mandy gave us the instructions for putting together little tulle bags and stuffing them with small containers of bubbles and some little chocolates. Then, I launched into my story. It was so compelling that we only made one favor each by the time I got to the end of it.

  "She really said that she hated him and was glad he was dead?" Tilly asked. "I knew she was stuck-up, but I didn't realize she was so cold-hearted."

  "I have to agree with her," Trina said. "I'm glad he's dead. All he did was cause trouble everywhere he went. The hospital will be so much more peaceful without him now."

  "Trina!" my mother gasped, her eyes wide open in surprise. "Don't you ever say that about anyone, no matter how evil they seem. There must be someone in this world who will be sad that he's gone."

  I thought back to Rebecca's reaction to Murray's death and wondered what exactly had made her so sad. She had reacted more like a grieving wife than Carol had. Had they been having an affair? Or maybe she had unrequited love for Murray? The wheels in my mind started spinning while I tried to figure out ways to delve into that re
lationship.

  "But look at us, sitting here gabbing and not helping Mandy with her wedding favors," my mother said. "Come on girls, let's pick up the pace. Pick out a movie Mandy and let's get busy."

  Mandy slid an old movie favorite from our high school days into the DVD player and we got back to business. We all settled down with breakfast and got to work. Our work was soon interrupted, though, by Mandy's phone ringing.

  "Hi Greg," Mandy said into the phone. "What's up?"

  Her smile quickly slid into an expression of confusion. She got up and quickly walked into the family hallway which was out of sight, but not quite out of hearing range. I could still pick up a few pieces of conversation here and there.

  "...in jail? Why?...The wedding will still be next week though, right?...That's really asking a lot..."

  When she hung up the phone, Mandy appeared in the family room again. Tears sparkled in her eyes and she was forcing a smile onto her face to try and prevent anymore crying. It didn't work. As soon as she saw us working so diligently on her wedding favors, Mandy broke down crying and fell onto the couch.

  I didn't know exactly what was going on, but I knew a little more than the rest of the women in the room who apparently hadn't been listening in on her conversation. We all huddled around the couch, my mother rubbing Mandy's back a little to help her calm down. Once she was able to catch her breath a little, Mandy took a few deep yoga breaths and told us what had happened.

  "Derek is in jail," Mandy said. "The police just came and took him away. They accused him of killing Murray. They said they had all sorts of evidence and that it wouldn't be any problem to put him away for life. Greg is freaking out. He called to say that the wedding will have to be postponed. What are we going to do? It is too late for any other venue and I really don't want to wait a whole year to get married? We have everything ready now and I just want to start this next chapter of my life with Trevor."