Death among the Roses: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

  Death among the Roses

  by Anna Drake

  Copyright © 2014 by Anna Drake

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  ONE

  A wedding can be a glorious event. Anytime or anyplace, nuptials will often put a smile on a woman’s face.

  But not mine. I hate weddings. I’ve never seen one where the bride wasn’t a nervous wreck, the mother a walking zombie, and the groom little more than a second thought.

  Was that why I was in my present funk? I was headed to a wedding, to my best friend’s wedding. And I was running late.

  Now, almost at my destination, I wrestled my car around the corner at Main and Maple Streets like an Indy driver on steroids. Flooring the gas pedal, I flew past a startled Mabel Florent, who was taking out her trash. Next, I barreled onto Torrance Street, and halfway down the block, I stomped on my brakes, tires screeching, to turn into the parking lot of the Cloverton Methodist Church.

  Easing my Fiesta into a vacant space, I sank back in the seat and took in my surroundings. The church sat in gray splendor to my left. A rose bed lined up before the nose of my car. The parking lot was stuffed nearly to overflowing. I stepped outside, pulled in air, and admired the day. It was perfect weather for a wedding. Bright sunshine. Blue sky. Greening grass and….

  And that’s when the impossible happened. My gaze fell to an object among the roses.

  I blinked, momentarily wondering what the groom was doing stretched out in a rose bed? But a closer look brought the reality home. Obviously, Cordelia’s intended groom, Gary Pepper, was dead. Not only dead, but murdered. I could tell by the grimace on his face.

  My breathing quickened. My heart banged inside my chest. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t.

  Behind me, a car pulled into the parking lot. Its door banged shut. Footsteps drew near.

  What’s happened,” a man asked. “Are you ill?”

  Still unable to speak, I raised my hand and pointed a trembling finger at the body.

  “Oh,” he said, the one word coming out in a great whoosh. He wrapped his strong arms around me. He gripped me tightly to his chest. My fingers clutched at his lapels. And I silently vowed never to let go of them.

  “Here,” he said, releasing me a few seconds later. “Come. Sit down.” He led me to his car, opened the door, and steadied me. I sank down onto the seat. I gazed up at him, trying to figure out just who my helpmate was. Mid-twenties, tall, slender, I’d never seen the man before.

  “Do you have a cell phone with you?” he asked.

  I nodded. Licked my lips. “It’s inside my purse.”

  “Would you retrieve it for me, please?”

  I fished the phone free.

  He gently removed it from my outstretched hand. “You stay here. Take deep breaths. I’m calling the police.”

  The fellow’s fingers punched in numbers on the keypad. He drew even closer to the fallen man. Once connected with the county dispatcher, he gave him our location and described what we had found.

  “No, there’s no reason to rush,” he said a short time later. “I can’t find a pulse.”

  At hearing the finality of those words, I shivered. My mind, which had been numb until then, launched into overdrive.

  Gary Pepper, a man I’d known since childhood had been murdered. I shook my head. How could this have happened? And on this of all possible days. Then, my thoughts turned to Cordelia, waiting inside the church for a groom who would never come.

  ***

  Within a few minutes of our call, the first cop arrived. Short and barrel chested, Lonny Day approached us with a frown on his broad brow. Day and I had attended high school together. “You’re going to know the victim,” I warned him. He nodded, grimly.

  Still, when his gaze took in the corpse, his mouth collapsed into an even thinner line. And at returning to us, his face was a little more washed out than it had been when he arrived.

  “Chief Gossford is going to want to interview you when he gets here,” Day told me.

  “That’s fine.”

  I’m Melanie Hart, by the way. When not practically stumbling over dead bodies, I’m a reporter for the Cloverton Gazette. Few people have ever heard of me or of our newspaper.

  We cover a two-county area along the western edge of Illinois — where the state’s border protrudes into the Iowa and Missouri state line like a pregnant belly. Our population on a good day might total forty thousand people, but I wouldn’t put money on that.

  My parking-lot savior turned out to be named Josh Devon. He told Day he’d traveled down from a Chicago suburb to attend the wedding. He was dark of hair and eye and had a deeply dimpled chin. Although he appeared to be about my age, he had a mature and confident air about him that I’d probably always lack.

  I’m sure if I’d been paying closer attention, I’d have thought the man handsome. But those kind of details didn’t interest me much then.

  After satisfying the cop’s questions, Josh and I were ushered toward the church. The building was a well maintained old thing constructed from gray, chiseled stone. The Gothic windows were framed with freshly painted white trim. A square bell tower rose high and proud beside the building’s wide, front door.

  “Before you get the wrong idea” Josh said, as we climbed the stone steps, “I don’t usually scoop strangers into my arms. Or at the very least, I insist on being introduced first.”

  I chuckled. “I’m glad to hear it, because I don’t normally tolerate such behavior, either.”

  “We’re on the same page, then?”

  I shrugged. “It works for me.”

  Of course, I didn’t tell him how much I appreciated his kindness. At the sight of the corpse, I’d definitely needed bracing up. I’d never come across a dead body before, and as far as I was concerned, I’d be happiest if I never ran into oneone again.

  Entering the sanctuary, Day gestured toward a pew where Josh and I obligingly sat. The sight I beheld nearly overwhelmed me. Large floral bouquets lined the center aisle. Even larger groupings of flowers filled the space immediately around the altar. The spring blooms in bright shades of yellow and pink made everything looked grandly festive and sadly at odds with the facts now to be faced.

  But apparently the bridal party had gotten whiff of the trouble headed their way. They stood in a ragged clump down front. Their faces drawn. Their troubled gaze following Day’s approach. Cordelia looked magnificent in a white, high-necked gown. But I found the concern playing across her strong features heartrending.

  Her father stood beside her. Day whispered a few short words to them both. Cordelia instantly collapsed into her father’s arms. I longed to comfort my friend, and I started to spring up to go to her. But Josh restrained me. “There’s already a crowd down there. Besides, it looks as though they’re going to get her out of here.”

  Casting a second glance down front, I saw Dr. Kirkwood approach and bark a fe
w curt orders to the group. Soon, Cordelia was rushed down the aisle and out the door. All I could do was sit and watch them speed out of sight. I had to wait here for questioning.

  At the bridal party’s departure, Officer Day looked at us with a deep wrinkle of displeasure carving into his forehead. “Absolutely no one else is to leave the church,” he barked. “You’re all witnesses to a murder. We need to question you. Learn what, if anything, you saw.” I shuddered. Obviously, Day would have preferred it if even poor Cordelia had remained imprisoned with us.

  Possibly sensing my distress, Josh did his best to keep my mind occupied with chit-chat. We spoke of weather, jobs, our colleges, and what our years there meant to us.

  Sometime later, my neighbor, Bill Torman, interrupted our little confab to tell us coffee was on order in the church basement. Somewhere in his late fifties, I’d always found him a considerate man. And today was no exception.

  “Gossford’s arrived,” he said, “but it will be a while before he starts taking statements. They’re going over the grounds, looking for evidence, I guess. A crime scene crew is here. The coroner, too.”

  He gazed at me with a worried frown. “Are you going to be okay, Melanie?”

  “Of course. I come from sturdy stock.”

  “Good.” Relief lighted his blue eyes. “I can get on with my job, then? I need to share the news about the coffee.” He patted my hand and gave me an affectionate smile.

  After he left us, I turned to my new best friend. “Shall we grab some coffee?” Josh nodded, and I escorted him to the stairwell, where we led a procession of wedding guests to the basement. Once there, we each filled a cup with the steaming brew. The coffee spilled out dark and fragrant from the little black spigot near the bottom of the large, old-fashioned aluminum coffeemaker. I smiled. We had one just like it at work. It was ancient. As was this one. I could hardly believe either of them still worked.

  With cups filled now, Josh and I headed to a quiet corner. The room we walked through was a plain, open space with a couple of small additions along the far western side. Walls were a neutral beige. Banquet tables stood in three long rows. Folding chairs spaced along the tables provided hard, uncomfortable seating. It was a Spartan, utilitarian kind of place that relied on the neighborliness of the congregation for its warmth. But there were few of those vibes present here on this day. People milled about, their faces grim.

  Josh seated himself at the end of one of the line of tables and asked, “Did you know Gary well?”

  I sat in the chair next to his. “You could say that. We grew up together. From childhood on he, Cordelia, and I were a tight-knit group.”

  Josh sipped his coffee and swallowed. “Have you any idea why someone would have wanted him dead?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t imagine anyone wishing Gary ill. He was a quiet man who, as far as I knew, always went out of his way to avoid trouble.”

  “Well, someone obviously thought they needed to kill him. Once police find the motive, they’ll be half-way home to nabbing the killer.” He nodded as though reassuring himself as to the certainty of his statement.

  I drew back and studied the man’s friendly face. “Are you a cop?”

  He laughed. “No, I’m an accountant.”

  And also a pleasant companion, I thought. “Are you here as a guest of the bride or of the groom?” Neither of my friends had ever mentioned Josh’s name before that I could remember.

  The man set his cup down and frowned. “Gary and I are… that is I guess I should say... we were cousins.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Josh ducked his chin and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I had no idea Gary had a cousin.”

  Josh wrapped both hands around his coffee cup. “I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of me. Our families had fallen out before I was born. In fact, I was amazed when I received an invitation to the wedding. Gary even wrote me a separate note, encouraging me to come.”

  “How kind of him.”

  Josh bit his lip and nodded. “It was. He said he thought it was time for our families to mend fences.”

  No chance of healing now, I thought. At least, not for Gary to see.

  At that moment, Ginger Black advanced on us. She was one of Cordelia’s cousins. She’d been drafted into service as Maid of Honor when Cordelia had decided to restrict her bridesmaids to family members. With copper hair, large hazel eyes, and delicate, even features, Ginger was what could be called a natural beauty. And the bridesmaid dress looked perfect on her. An achievement rarely accomplished.

  “Here,” she said, shoving a platter of food toward us and rolling her eyes. “I’m carting around the canapés.” She shrugged. “Somebody called the caterers and had some of the food for the reception brought over. It’s a good idea, I guess. It keeps a little of the wedding goodies from going to waste. Plus this gives me something to do to pass the time. Otherwise I’d go bonkers.”

  I stared at the platter. Shrimp and sliced ham and smoked salmon along with several types of cheeses had been lovingly arranged there. While everything looked tempting and smelled delicious, yet I couldn’t force myself to take a single bite. The memory of Gary’s dead body was too much with me. Josh, too, passed up the offerings.

  “So who’s your friend?” Ginger asked, her eyes twinkling as she took my companion’s measure.

  I introduced them, explaining that Gary was a cousin from out of town.”

  “Really?” Ginger crooned. I tried not to let her flirtatious tone annoy me, reminding myself Ginger usually trilled sweetly whenever she got within a few feet of a handsome man.

  “Will wonders never end?” she exclaimed. “I never knew Gary had a cousin.”

  Finally, she managed to drag her gaze back to me. “So, I heard you found the body?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been told I’m not to discuss the details with anyone.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “How’s Cordelia?” I asked.

  “I haven’t had an update yet. But, as you saw, the doctor sped off with her, and he was muttering something about tranquilizers on the way out the door. My guess is she’s probably sound asleep by now.”

  I nodded. “That would be a good thing.”

  Ginger took a moment to survey the room. “Do you think the police will keep us here much longer? I mean, what can I tell them? I was cooped up inside the church. None of the bridal party saw anything. Seriously, what do they want from us?”

  “I’m sure Gossford will do his best to get through the room quickly.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Ginger said with a huff, “I’d like to get home before my feet swell any more than they already have. What was Cordelia thinking? These shoes are a beast.”

  “You could slip them off,” I suggested.

  “You might, maybe. But I certainly won’t.”

  “It was nice of you then,” Josh said with a smile, “to come round with the food.”

  Ginger inclined her head and placed a hand on her chest. “It was my pleasure” she purred. Then, she straightened and peered about the room, her eyes large. “Can you imagine? A murder in Cloverton? Poor Gossford will be having fits. Murder is so far out of his league.”

  “He’s always seemed highly competent to me.”

  Ginger leaned in close and whispered softly. “If Gossford can’t figure this murder out, I bet we can.” She straightened and gave me an encouraging smile.

  I took a deep breath, wondering if I’d misheard her.

  She punched my upper arm. “Oh, come on. Why not?”

  “And right after we scope out the killer, we can climb Mt. Everest, too.”

  “Are you saying we’re incapable of helping solve this mess?”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Probably something like that, yes.”

  “Hey. You’re a reporter. You’ve got smarts. And I know every dirty secret in town.” Ginger faced Josh. “I hear more about the goings on here than any decent person shoul
d.”

  “Ginger owns the most popular beauty parlor in Cloverton,” I offered as explanation. “A lot of gossip gets spread there.”

  “You two can’t be serious?” Josh looked at us with wide eyes. “Surely, you aren’t planning on sticking your noses into police business?”

  “I don’t think so, no,” I said as I felt my cheeks flush. “Ginger’s just come up with another of her outlandish ideas.”

  She snorted. “You think about what I’m saying, Melanie.” And she returned her attention to Josh. “Times certainly could have been happier. But all that aside,” she laid her free hand on top of his, “Josh, it’s been very nice meeting you.”

  He gazed up at Ginger looking for all the world like a puppy who’d just found his master. “Likewise,” he muttered, a goofy smile playing across his strong, handsome face.

  Suddenly realizing the pair looked good together, I folded my arms over my chest and fumed.

  I’d found him first, I irrationally thought. But my reaction left me puzzled. I hadn’t been interested in a man romantically since my one and only dumped me two days short of college graduation.

  Besides I had no right to be jealous over Josh. One quick hug at the sight of a dead body does not a future build.

  But a little issue like knowing someone well never mattered to Ginger. Given another minute or two, she’d have Josh asking her out on a date. I could tell.

  Team up with Ginger? Solve a murder? I’d rather face a root canal.

  TWO

  I hadn't harbored any illusions that Cordelia would move beyond Gary’s death easily. Still, I was stunned at the state I found her in when I finally pulled my car in front of the family home. The house was old and large and lovely, its lawn dotted with ancient evergreens. The graceful turn-of-the-century structure spoke of a successful family, the kind of clan some might assume would never be touched by tragedy.

  But I knew better. Cordelia's older brother had died in a swimming accident. Her only male cousin had met his end in a fiery car crash. And now the love of Cordelia's life had been murdered. I sighed, stepped out of the car, and headed for the house.