Dying for a Drive: A Senoia Cozy Mystery Read online

  “Sorry,” he said. “Been kind of slow today. Where have you been?”

  “Honestly?” she said as she plopped down the paperwork she had gotten from the pub along with all of her notes from speaking to the other business owners. “I was interviewing people about the murder.”

  “You really think someone killed that guy?” Jefferson questioned. “The police aren’t really calling it a murder yet.”

  “Yeah, but Jack was acting really funny when I asked him. I think he must know,” Felicity said.

  “So you were interviewing people, huh?” Jefferson questioned and stretched his arms out across the counter, yawning loudly as he did so. “Anything stand out to you during your interviews?”

  “Bobby said when he came back from looking at cars that his office doors were unlocked, but that’s the only thing. He probably just left them open. Everyone’s paranoid. One of the dental hygienists said her boyfriend visited her and they got into a fight that day, so now she’s convinced he’s a murderer, but why he would murder Charles makes zero sense. Then there’s the pub. It’s possible a drunk patron got into it with Charles. Monica and Jesse were pretty mad at him too. And Adam wasn’t too pleased about Charles trying to sell him a car he claimed was in perfect condition. It could be a number of people.”

  As they were talking and swapping theories, the door opened. They both perked up, expecting to see a customer, but instead Officer Jack Huddleston entered decked out in his uniform and with the same subtle scowl he always wore. He glanced around the room with a keen eye as though inspecting it for flaws or imperfections. “I’m impressed,” he said as he reached the counter.

  “What do you want, Jack?” Felicity questioned, trying her hardest to remove all hints of frustration in her tone.

  Jack’s eyes moved slightly toward Jefferson as though to silently tell him to beat it, but Jefferson either didn’t catch the look or outright ignored it. Instead, Jefferson smiled at him and propped his elbows up on the counter. “You’re Jack Huddleston, right? Felicity told me about you. You were Mr. Quarterback in high school… Geez, what happened?”

  “Excuse me?” Jack snarled.

  “Down, boy,” Felicity snapped. She looked at Jefferson. “Would you give us a minute, Jeffrey?”

  Jefferson grimaced slightly, and didn’t fail to shoot Jack a dirty look before slowly sinking off the counter and slowly standing up straight, never breaking eye contact with Jack as he did so. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jefferson turned on his heels and headed into the backroom where they kept their party supplies. Felicity could see Jack watching Jefferson with a sharp eye, and he practically growled when he at last spoke. “What’s that kid’s problem?”

  “He’s not a kid, Jack,” Felicity said.

  “He was giving me a dirty look,” Jack retorted. “And what was up with that comment about me being Mr. Quarterback? What happened? He’s a little punk, isn’t he?”

  “He probably just doesn’t like you because he and I talk about what a tool you were to me in high school,” she hissed.

  “I treated you good,” he said.

  “Bossing me around and telling me what I could or couldn’t do with my life was not treating me good, Jack. Now what do you want? Are you here to book a party?” Felicity asked and walked around to the back of the counter to put some distance between the two of them. She could hardly believe that she had ever been with Jack; he had been cute in high school and very charming, but that was all he had going for him. True, he had treated her really well up until senior year when she started looking at colleges. Jack had lost his chance at a scholarship after a knee injury, so college had gone out the window for him. He had expected Felicity to remain behind with him, and they had fought over whether or not she should attend college. She could almost understand how seeing her here not using that degree she had gone after would pester him, but it was her life, not his, and that was the thing that had broken them up.

  “No, I’m not here to book a party,” he said and took a breath. “I just wanted to come by and apologize. You’re right. I was pretty rude at the station. I guess I got a little nervous seeing you again, and honestly, I’m a bit on edge.”

  “So he was murdered, wasn’t he?” Felicity asked.

  “Looks that way,” Jack said. “We think he was attacked on the second floor of the office complex across the street. We found his wallet out in the hall during the initial search. We found some other evidence that we’re waiting to get some results back on.”

  “What other evidence?” Felicity questioned.

  “I shouldn’t say. Really, I shouldn’t have told you about his wallet,” Jack said and shook his head as though disappointed in himself. “I didn’t come here to talk to you about all of that. I just came to apologize.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Felicity said, but she straightened herself up. “I guess that’s not really fair of me. I’m sorry I’m so harsh to judge you. I appreciate your apology. It’s okay, really. I was probably a little more aggressive than I should have been too.”

  Jack nodded and glanced back toward the door where Jefferson had left them. He shook his head slightly. “I’ve gotta go. They have all of us working long shifts right now. We have no idea who did this so, you know, watch out for yourself, okay?”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Jack. I will. You be careful too.”

  He smiled back, tipped his hat, and headed out the door.

  Chapter 5

  Felicity pulled up outside of Newnan Hospital, a mere twenty-minute drive from her shop in Senoia. She parked a short distance away from the main entrance and threw her purse over her shoulder before climbing out of the car. Before heading inside, she pulled out her notebook and began skimming through her notes. So far she didn’t have much of a lead on Charles Jones’s murderer, but she knew a good place to start would be the morgue where Charles’s body was being held. Autumn was the local forensic pathologist. Felicity rarely visited her friend at work in the actual morgue. Usually, she would plan her visits around Autumn’s lunch hour and meet in the hospital lobby. Being in a room full of dead people gave Felicity the creeps.

  Back in high school, Felicity had seen this particular career choice coming for her best friend. Her father had been an elected coroner, and Autumn’s mother was a funeral home director. Autumn had chosen to take a more collegiate approach to work with the dead, heading off to a university to study and eventually working her way up to the head of the local morgue. If you lived in Coweta County and someone you knew passed away, there was a guarantee you would be running into someone in Autumn’s family.

  The two of them had met in high school and stayed close friends throughout college, though Felicity had gotten quite busy between studying to become an investigative journalist and working on her party planning business. Felicity hadn’t made many friends in college, so here at Newnan Hospital was where most of her girlfriends worked, most of whom she had met through Autumn. She smiled as she entered through the front doors, but sighed slightly. Hospitals weren’t normally pleasant places, Felicity knew that, but all her visits had involved pleasant lunch outings, picking up a friend to head out to the movies, or just a surprise visit to a friend she had not spoken to in a while. She’d never even considered having business in the morgue, and now she was walking right into the place she liked the least with the grimmest of reasons.

  Felicity took her time getting to the morgue, stopping by to see her friends Monte, Dawn, and Veronica before deciding she was brave enough to take the elevator down to see Autumn. She had only been in the morgue one other time, and she had certainly not enjoyed the experience. It had been unbearably cold, and though most of the bodies were locked up, she had stumbled upon Autumn right in the middle of an autopsy. It had not been until her friend looked up and saw Felicity about to faint that she’d even registered she wasn’t alone. Felicity shook the memory off as the elevator doors opened, and she took a hallway down into the basement-like setting. As a
lways, the morgue was dimly lit and cold as an icebox. She spotted Autumn sitting at her desk, typing up her notes from the latest autopsy she had done. She smiled and perked up when she saw Felicity. “Well, well, well,” Autumn teased, knowing good and well about Felicity’s discomfort with the morgue. “What brings you to the cellar?”

  “I’m looking into the murder of Charles Jones,” Felicity said.

  “Why?” Autumn questioned. “Are you picking up some side jobs for the local papers or something?”

  “That would make sense,” Felicity said, knowing that then she would at least be using the knowledge she had gained during the nearly four years spent away at school for herself. “But that’s not it at all…and I notice you didn’t correct me when I said murder?”

  “Tell me you’re not going to share this information with the press and I’ll sing like a little bird,” Autumn said.

  Felicity grinned slightly. “Don’t worry. This is just for me. I guess seeing his body laid out in the elevator really bothered me, you know? I just want to see if I can find out what happened.”

  Autumn stood and came out from behind her desk. “Finding your own way to do your civic duty, huh? You do have a knack for doing things differently. I just do jury duty, but hey, whatever works for you.”

  “Funny,” Felicity said. “Funny for a coroner, at least.”

  “Forensic pathologist,” Autumn corrected. “Trust me, we are way funnier than coroners. So, if you’re playing detective, I’m guessing you want to pay your respects to the deceased?” Autumn walked toward some double doors and pushed her way into the cold room where the bodies were stored.

  Felicity shuddered, but followed. The cold, dark room made her nervous, so she was glad that Autumn was there with her. She shivered slightly as the source of the morgue’s constant chill seeped into her skin. She noticed that Autumn was wearing a sundress and wondered how in the world her friend could wear something so thin down here. But then she also wondered how her best friend could spend all day with dead people.

  Autumn walked with a steady pace, oblivious to Felicity’s inner ramblings, and pointed to the table in the center of the room where a body was laid out under a white sheet. She tossed Felicity some rubber gloves and then pulled on some herself before rolling back part of the sheet to reveal the old man himself, Charles Jones.

  “So it was murder?” Felicity asked.

  “Unless he’s into some really kinky stuff,” Autumn said with an almost giggle.

  “That’s not funny, Autumn,” Felicity said.

  “Sorry,” Autumn said. “You’ve got to understand that this job is kind of dark, especially with stuff like this. I’m down here by myself most of the day. Can’t let all of this ruin my humor, you know? But to answer your question, I’m pretty sure it was murder. Look here.” Autumn pointed around the man’s throat where Felicity could see some serious bruising.

  “Yikes,” Felicity said.

  “If you put your fingers here, you can feel—”

  “I don’t think so,” Felicity interrupted. “Why don’t you just tell me what you feel? I don’t think I am going to do any touching of the corpse.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes and chuckled slightly. “Understood,” she said and covered Charles back up before removing her gloves. “Basically, he was strangled. He was definitely tossed around a good bit based off the way his neck was broken.”

  “What else can you tell me?” Felicity asked. Strangling hadn’t occurred to her when she considered how Charles had died, but now it opened up some possibilities.

  “Well, someone didn’t strangle him with their hands. They used some sort of tool like a belt or rope to do it. In addition to some bruising, I also found traces of motor oil around his neck. Charles put up a serious fight. He scratched at his victim.” Autumn pulled one of his hands from under the sheet and showed off the bruising on his fingers and the chips in his nails. “But I wasn’t able to retrieve any DNA from under his fingernails.”

  “Motor oil?” Felicity questioned out loud.

  “He was killed during the car show,” Autumn said. “Someone could have killed him using something from one of the cars. That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

  “It does a little,” Felicity said.

  “How so?”

  “Charles’s car was leaking oil.”

  Chapter 6

  Felicity scribbled away in her notebook as she leaned against the counter inside her shop. Jefferson was busying himself with straightening display books while she examined what little information she had. It was like fitting together a puzzle when half of the pieces were missing, and she didn’t care for the frustration it was causing. From the moment she met him she’d known he was a scrappy old man. The type you always figured had fought in some war in the way back when. But Autumn couldn’t track exactly what material had been used to choke him, which didn’t help since she’d assured Felicity there was a number of things in a car you could use to strangle a man. All of which could have had motor oil on them if the car was already leaking. Without knowing exactly where he died, she couldn’t narrow her suspects, and she didn’t have access to any of the information that the precinct was using. She’d have loved to have had some customers to help distract her for a bit and give her mind time to cool off, but the store was empty.

  It was the dead hour around Senoia Main Street. Everyone traversing around Senoia was currently eating lunch, so the shops were all quite empty. The Irish pub, the cafes, and the assortment of local restaurants were likely packed full, but after a few more hours, the filled patrons would be swarming the streets again and likely fill up her shop with curious window shoppers. While the shop was empty, she decided to use that time to further her personal investigation.

  “So why does Charles’s murder have you so curious?” Jefferson asked, suddenly appearing in front of her across the counter. He peered at her notes as she jotted down something else that came to mind.

  “I guess just being on the scene bothers me,” Felicity explained. “And it happened right here on Main Street. I guess I feel like someone has gotten my quaint little town dirty, and I don’t like it. And the police haven’t even made an arrest. That means that someone who strangled a man in broad day light could be walking around in the midst of a crowded event. That’s the kind of thing I don’t like in my hometown.”

  “So what do you have so far?” Jefferson asked.

  She turned her notebook around so he wouldn’t have to read upside-down. “Not much. Whoever it was likely murdered him on the second floor of the office complex. The businesses on the second floor are the insurance agency and the medical clinic, so whoever it was either followed Charles there or had a reason for being there themselves. The murder weapon is probably some sort of rope or wire that was covered in motor oil. The assailant was probably pretty strong, and based off of the angle of the bruising, Autumn is guessing that the man was fairly short compared to Charles—under five foot four. I know Charles’s vehicle was leaking oil, so it makes me guess that whoever did this had access to his vehicle.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jefferson said. “It was a car show, with a bunch of old, dysfunctional vehicles. Chances are there was more than one that was leaking oil. But, then again, you never know. I just wouldn’t say for sure just yet.”

  “Are you helping me now?” Felicity asked with a smirk.

  “Hey, you’re my boss. If this is how you want to spend the dead hour, I’m all for it. Honestly, it’s a little more exciting than picking out floral arrangements with bridezillas.”

  Felicity stood upright and eyed him for a moment. “If this job is so boring, why keep it?”

  “It’s good company,” he said and smiled brightly at her. He had such a warm smile. “I like working for you, Felicity. You’re a great boss, and you’re really passionate about what you do. It makes it fun. I’ll admit I never envisioned myself as a party planner. I thought I would be at college playing football right now
, but I like what I do. I’m not saying I love every minute of it as much as you, but I have fun here with you. Makes me almost glad I didn’t wind up at some party school pretending to get an education like all my other football buddies did. Half of them have dropped out already. I don’t think I was cut out for college anyway. This, though, this is fun. I enjoy it, even if it means dealing with an occasional psycho teenager whose mommy and daddy are paying for some lavish sweet sixteen.”

  “Yeah, the one we did was not that fun, but at least they recommended us to that wedding party we booked,” Felicity admitted. “But I’m glad you enjoy working here. Honestly, I don’t know if I could have pulled this off without you.”

  She noticed Jefferson blush slightly. He propped his elbows up on the counter and pretended to be engrossed with her notes. “You know I took auto shop in high school. If I could get a look at Charles’s car, I might find something useful for you.”

  Felicity smirked and pointed at the front door of the shop. “I think this might be fate, what do you think?”

  Jefferson turned around, and clear as day they could see that Charles’s vehicle, the Cobra, was being pulled up right in the front parking spot of their shop along Main Street. The body was still brightly polished as if Charles had waxed her again that morning. “Well, I’ll be,” Jefferson said, and the two of them sped out the front door just as Brandon, Charles’s son, was climbing out of the driver’s seat.

  Felicity touched Jefferson’s shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks. She took a moment to observe Brandon; she had not seen him since the car show when he had gone to break up a catfight between Monica and Jesse. He looked very pale and exhausted. Clearly the last few days had been rough on him. There was a look of honest mourning in his eyes, a clear sadness as though he carried some serious weight from the unexpected and rather cruel loss of his father. Brandon got out of the car slowly, his shoulders slumped, and closed the driver’s side door with little energy.