Shopping is Murder (McKinley Mysteries Book 6) (6 page)

Concocting Motive

MAGNUM’S
REAL NAME WAS GEOFFREY Ward and he and his wife, Bev, lived in a three-story townhouse. From the front door, he led them up to the second level where there was a sitting area.

Sara couldn’t imagine living in a layout where every other room was on yet another level. The home felt chopped up and cramped. Her mind drifted to how difficult it would make getting in furniture. She shook the thought as others, about Nicole and Jerrod, came in on her.

“Thank you for talking to us,” Sara said as she took a seat in the living room. Again, as she beheld the space, she realized there was nothing architecturally redeeming about the place.

Geoffrey sank with a certain heaviness into the reclining chair, which squeaked as he moved the lever to raise the footrest.
“You do realize that I still don’t believe you’re cops, but I am curious. Why are you both so interested in what I saw and heard that guy say?”

Sara sensed a small portion of him also wondered if they were involved with Jerrod
’s demise somehow. It was a faint whisper that seemed to shiver through him, but when his focus came back to her eyes, he smiled in response to hers.

“You’re right, we’re not cops, but we are investigating his death.”

“Huh. Sort of like private eyes then, eh?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of? What’s that supposed to mean?” Geoffrey pushed the footrest back into the chair and leaned forward like he was about to spring up.

“We investigate cases for people,” she began.

“Sort of off the record,” Sean added.

“Sort of like private eyes, sort of like off record. Nah, this doesn’t sound right.”

“Please, Mr. Ward, the man’s wife is a friend of mine. We’re helping her.” Sara watched as the man assessed her, probing to see if he could believe what she was saying.

“Your friend, you say?” His eyes kept latched to hers and, a second later, they opened wide. He shot to his feet. “Now I know why you’re familiar. You’re that couple that got all that money. When you introduced yourselves I thought the name rang a bell, but I didn’t know why. I’m right, aren’t I? You’re those billionaires. You inherited money from some old tycoon.”

Sean shifted his position on the chair. She sensed he didn
’t really appreciate the term, as if assigning a negative connotation to it.

She smiled at Geoffrey.
“That’s us.”

“My, you’re even prettier than you were in the paper. I’m sure you were on TV too, but as you can see,” he gestured around the room, “we don’t have one. We’re readers here. So, you’re not cops now, but you were?”

“That’s right,” Sean stepped in, “and we need your help.”

“Wow.” Geoffrey massaged his chin and then lowered his hand. “I’d love to help if I could, but I’m afraid I’ve told you everything I know. The guy said he’d had enough of shopping and was ready to jump. That’s all. Sorry.”

“About how long from the time he said that until he went over?” Sean asked.

“Maybe thirty minutes. Yeah, something close to that. Not long after Bev came to me and dragged me off to the food court. She needed a cinnamon bun.” He rolled his eyes. “The woman complains about the size of her waistline but then she’s always sabotaging herself.”

Sara stifled a giggle.
“They are pretty delicious.”

“Yes, but seriously? She’s not going to reach her goal if she doesn’t focus.” He shook his head while a small smile lingered on his lips.

It was apparent that he loved his wife and accepted her for who she was but still realized the folly of her ways.

“Back to the man who died,” Sean said. “At the time, did you take his words seriously?”

“Do you mean did I think he’d really jump? No. I was sick of shopping at that point too. How much stuff does a person need? This whole Christmas thing is too commercial.”

“So, the talk about jumping was pure hyperbole in your mind?”

Sara smirked at Sean but he kept his eyes on Geoffrey. Sean wasn
’t going to get waylaid by any further detours.

“Of course. Why would anyone jump because they were sick of shopping? Just leave the mall. That would make sense to me.” He paused, studying both of them. “You want my honest opinion, I think someone pushed him over. The place was crowded. It would just take a well-timed shove and over he’d—oh, sorry.”

Sara lifted her hand as if to say
that
’s fine
.

Geoffrey opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but nothing came out.

“What is it?” Sara asked.

His mouth opened and closed as if he were debating whether or not to continue.
“When he said it, he was dangling over the railing.”

“He was dangling?”

“He was leaning on the railing and holding onto a small yellow bag that he was swaying back and forth.”

“A yellow bag?” Sean leaned forward.

She didn
’t remember seeing a yellow bag on the ground around him.

“Yes, and like I said, it was small, say—” he gestured with his hands creating an approximate twelve-inch rectangle, “about this big.”

Sara rose to her feet, keeping her eyes on the man.
“Was there a name or logo on it?”

Geoffrey shook his head.
“Just plain.”

“Thank you for your help. We won’t take up any more of your time.”

Sean followed her lead and waited until they had reached the car
to question her. “What is it? What are you thinking?”

“I believe our answer lies in that yellow bag.” There was that downward tug on her gut.

He opened the door for her.
“But you’re not happy about it.”

She shook her head and got in. She continued once he was behind the wheel.
“You know my memory. Jerrod didn’t fall with a yellow bag.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you just don’t remember seeing it—”

She held eye contact with him.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s you we’re talking about.”

She smiled and then laughed.
“Remember that.”

He caressed her cheek and let his hand fall.
“So, what happened between the time Geoffrey spoke to Jerrod and he went over the rail? And what happened to this yellow bag? You think this had something to do with the reason he had to come shop in Albany?”

“I do.”

“It is possible. I think our answer is in finding out where the yellow bag came from and what happened to it,” she said.

“If there is a yellow bag.”

“Let’s operate on the fact there is one.”

“Sure. We’re going to have to go from store to store to see where the bag came from.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Darling?” One corner of his mouth rose.

“We talk to Nicole to see if she remembers, or maybe the police have returned Jerrod’s packages. It could have been inside another bag.”

“Hmm. I just had a thought. We know that Jerrod and Nicole went their separate ways. It’s possible she won’t know anything about it.”

“You’re a genius.” She kissed his lips with a quick tap and then built on his hypothesis. “And if she doesn’t remember it, then Jerrod picked up whatever this
something
was. He wasn’t dropping it off. Otherwise he would have gone to the mall with it.”

“Assuming he didn’t hide it in his jacket. He could have left it done up.”

“Except, why hide it only to flaunt it the next moment?”

“Brilliant.” Sean smiled.

Sara
’s insides swirled. “Maybe this is worse. It lends itself to the real possibility Jerrod was being bribed and he had something to hide. Someone had dirt on him and he needed to get it back.”

“Before we get too carried away, let’s go see Nicole.”

Sara nodded, her mind a mixture of thoughts, when something else occurred to her.
“If Jerrod picked up something and received a bag for it—”

“Then he could have picked up whatever it was from a store.”

She smiled.
“Yes. Now, the mall security cameras were useless, but every store would have their own.”

“You’re thinking if we figure out the store.”

Conflicting Evidence

SHELLEY TOWNSEND OPENED THE DOOR and when she saw them, stepped to the side to let Sara and Sean in.

“She’s down the hall, in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Sara said.

“Uh-huh.”

The door closed heavily behind them. Over the last twenty-four hours, it was obvious that Mrs. Townsend hadn
’t let go of the past, regardless of what Sara was doing on behalf of her daughter. But some people were impossible to please, and it was starting to seem like she may be one of them.

Sara led the way to the kitchen, with Sean close behind her. She heard Mrs. Townsend
’s footsteps take a left. Not long after, they grew faint and disappeared.

Nicole was sitting at the table, cradling a steaming white mug. If Sara guessed correctly, it was coffee—freshly brewed. She spotted a K-cup machine on the counter. Her steps halted, her mind on a dark roast.

“Good morning, Nicky,” she said, feeling sheepish for the choice of words as soon as they left her lips.
Good morning
to a woman who had lost her husband the day before?

“Hey.” Nicole stared down into her cup for a few seconds. When she raised her eyes, they were narrowed a bit, as if she realized Sara’s steps had stopped.

Sean hid his amusement—he knew her well enough to know that a coffee possessed the ability to blind her at the best of times.

Before she allowed herself to become fully distracted by the thought of a full-bodied java, she moved to Nicole and hugged her.
“How did you sleep?” Another silly thing to say. After all, how would Sara have slept if she had lost Sean? The answer was simple. She wouldn’t have.

Nicole ran a hand down her face, the action accenting her puffy cheeks and darkly lined eyes.

Sara put her hand on Nicole
’s head and kissed the side of her forehead. “I’m sorry. That
was
a stupid question.”

Nicole dismissed her with a wave of her hand.
“You just care about me.”

“I always have.” That statement held absolute truth. Even though the years had separated them and taken them down different paths, Sara only wanted good things for Nicole.

“If you or Sean would like a coffee, please, go ahead and help yourselves.”

“Thank you.” Sara hoped Sean would recognize the plea in her eyes. She was pleased when
he headed to the machine and started a coffee.

Sara took a seat beside her friend, reaching for her hand as she did so.

“Have you found out anything?” Nicole asked.

Sara studied her friend
’s eyes. It was too early to voice their suspicions about Jerrod being involved in a criminal offense. Without proof they could easily be inflicting unnecessary pain. The matter of the yellow bag, however, did need to be discussed.

“When you were at the mall, you weren’t with Jerrod all the time were you.” Sara latched eyes with Nicole. The inquiry not so much a question but a statement.

Nicole shook her head.
“He said he wanted to do some shopping on his own.”

“He was probably buying you a gift.” Sara stuck with another possible fact while continuing to omit her suspicions.

“Yes, I think so. It worked for me too. After all, part of the Christmas magic is the surprise and mystery…or maybe I’m wrong.” Nicole gave a subdued smile.

“You are very right about that.”

Sean placed a mug in front of Sara, and as the aroma hit her nose, she inhaled appreciatively before taking a long draw. The benefit to the K-cup method was the temperature was perfect for drinking from the end of brew.

“You’re not having one?” Nicole asked Sean, who had taken a seat across from them.

“I already had mine today.” He smiled.

Nicole turned to Sara.
“One coffee? He has one a day? I’d never make it.”

“Me neither.” Sara laughed. The expression died quickly though, as Nicole’s sad energy soaked the air.

There was a pause, where silence hung for a few seconds. Sara and Sean made eye contact. He was willing to proceed if she felt it would be too much for her. She shook her head, just enough to let him know that she had this under control.

“Do you know where he might have bought something that went into a small yellow bag?”

Nicole
’s brows pressed down and she played with the handle on the mug, running her manicured nails down and around it—from top to bottom, bottom to top. “You think a yellow bag had to do with his death?”

“We don’t know yet, but we have an eyewitness who said he had one when he was alive,” Sean said.

“Then the cops must have it. They collected everything, including his purchases.”

The doorbell rang. They strained to listen for clues as to who their visitor was.

While Sara watched Nicole put effort into hearing, she wondered how she was going to tell Nicole
she never remembered seeing a yellow bag around Jerrod. Nicole would likely think her mad—after all, how could she knew that for certain. Besides Sean, most weren’t as accepting of her clear recollection.

Sara took a second to listen in, and then Mrs. Townsend came toward them, calling for Nicole. But the woman wasn
’t alone. Officers Ramsey and Carr trailed behind with a bunch of packages—Jerrod’s purchases.

Sara had been saved by the bell. Nicole
’s mind would easily be scattered all over the place. She wouldn’t think to have Sara pick up exactly where she left off. Sara wouldn’t have to explain how she just knew that a yellow bag was missing.

“Hello, Sara. Sean.” Officer Carr greeted them.

“Please, put all of this—here.” Mrs. Townsend let out a puff of air, as if the officers were an intrusion, and gestured for them to follow her to the dining room.

As the officers walked past, Sara didn
’t see any yellow bag among the packages. It was possible that it was placed inside another bag, but Sara didn’t think it was.

About a minute later, with all the packages in the other room, Officer Ramsey and Carr came back into the kitchen.

Sara read their energy. They had more to deliver than a man
’s belongings. Nicole must have sensed it too.

Nicole stood up and her legs buckled.

Sean rushed to keep her upright and guided to her the nearest chair.

“You are closing his case, aren’t you?” Nicole’s voice quaked as she spoke. Her one hand covered her mouth.

“Unfortunately, there hasn’t been sufficient evidence to conclude your husband’s death as a murder, Mrs. Hill,” Officer Carr said.

“So what you’re saying is you give up?” Mrs. Townsend crossed her arms, her glare intense enough to spark a fire.

“No. Please, ma’am, that’s not the way it is at all.”

“I assume there will be an autopsy conducted. He must have been drugged or something. He wouldn’t just jump.”

Sean got up and headed toward Mrs. Townsend, but stopped a couple of feet away when her glower leveled on him.

Carr straightened and latched his thumbs on the waist of his pants. “An autopsy showed no evidence of foul play, no syringe holes or anything.”

“Toxicology results take longer to come back,” Sean interjected.

Ramsey nodded with no elaboration, which meant the case was closed without it.

Sara knew the autopsy Officer Carr had referenced was probably just a preliminary look-over. The sad part was, she understood where the department was coming from. For all intents and purposes, they had a man fall to his death. He wasn
’t described by anyone as acting like he was intoxicated or drugged. No one witnessed a struggle, and, sadly, budget constraints were an issue for PD. It wasn’t, however, for Sean and Sara.

She matched eyes with Sean. Although certain he wouldn’t be able to read all of her thoughts, minimum, he would pick up on her need to discuss this later.

“What about his—” Nicole hiccupped a sob and composed herself. “What about his wallet and clothing? His wedding band?”

Carr turned to Ramsey. Ramsey turned to Carr. Then Ramsey spoke, his eyes drifting to Mrs. Townsend as he did so. “You can pick up those items down at the station. We broke our regular protocol bringing this here.”

“I have to go down there?” A glare flashed in Nicole’s eyes, slicing through the resident grief.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Mrs. Townsend came to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. Nicole melted into the embrace, the heaving sobs creating fractures through Sara’s heart.