Meat Lovers and Murder Page 6

  “He's still a suspect, isn't he?” Ellie asked.

  “He is, officially,” Russell said.

  “What does that mean, officially?” she asked.

  “Well, I've spoken to him a few times. If you look at it from an outsider's perspective, simply as a collection of facts, you would think he would be a perfect suspect. He lives nearby – he's just a few houses down the road from us – he had a reason to want the victim out of the house, and he has no alibi. However, I don't think it's him. You saw the person run out of the house the night of the murder, didn't you? That person ran quickly, with no limp. Mr. Brown limps. He used to collect old firearms but sold his collection years ago. There is no record of him currently owning a firearm. In addition to all of that, he supplied evidence that the tenant had agreed to move out by the middle of June. They were going to begin showing the house while it was still occupied. Everything lines up. He hasn't withheld anything from us, and he's been very helpful. I just don't see it.”

  “Holden was going to move? I guess that means we really don’t have any idea what the killer’s motive was, then.”

  “No, we don't,” Russell said. “That's what makes all of this so hard. At first, I really thought that Mr. Brown might be a suspect, but without that motive, it just wouldn't make sense.”

  Ellie sighed. It sounded like her neighbor's death was no closer to being solved. Still, the fact that the house’s owner wasn't a likely suspect anymore was positive. Maybe when all was said and done, they would be able to buy the house after all.

  “Russell,” she said after thinking for a moment. “There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about…”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  * * *

  Ellie felt a tingle of excitement as she pulled her shoes on. She knew it didn't really make sense – she had walked and driven by her neighbor's house a hundred times – but today was different. Today, she and Russell were going to take a tour of the interior, and they were going to talk seriously about buying it.

  I shouldn't be so excited, she told herself. The only reason this house was for sale so soon was because someone was met with a horrible, and unexpected death. It was a sobering thought. Ellie took a deep breath and reminded herself that the killer still hadn't been found. Someone had walked into her neighbor's house and shot him to death, and no one knew who it had been, or where he or she was now. If her neighbor really had agreed to move out, then that meant the police no longer had a motive for his murder.

  Maybe it really just was a burglary gone wrong, she thought as she slipped her phone into her pocket and called upstairs for Russell. The burglar might have fled after shooting Holden before he had a chance to steal anything. If the crime hadn't been personal, then that might make the killer much harder to find.

  “Are you ready to go?” Russell asked when he got downstairs.

  “I am,” she said. “Should we walk across, or drive?”

  “Let's walk,” her husband said. “It's nice out. There's no reason to get the car started just to drive twenty yards.”

  “Too bad we can't bring the dogs. We should take them on a walk when we get back.” She bent down to scratch behind Bunny's ear. Sawyer was already locked in the study; he wasn't always trustworthy when left alone in the house. He was still only a few months old, and they were working on training him. “Russell, I've been thinking about the murder. Do you know if there have been any burglaries in town recently? I know that you and everyone at the sheriff’s department are working as hard as you can to solve the crime, but I just don’t know if I will really feel safe here until the killer is in prison. What if we buy the house, and he comes back?”

  “Well, we don't even know if we will like the interior yet,” Russell said. “There's a lot to think about before we buy this house. And to answer your question, no. No burglaries have been reported since I got back.”

  Ellie frowned. Another idea, down the drain. I should have spoken to him more, she thought as they stepped out to the front door. If I had known him better, then I may have some idea of what was going on in his life. He's divorced, no kids, I never really saw him having many guests over. What sort of enemies could a man like him have?

  It really was a nice day. The sky was a pale, robin’s egg blue, and there was a faint freeze coming from the ocean. It was chilly enough out that she was glad she was wearing long sleeves, but much warmer than the past few months had been. It wouldn't be long until the weather had improved enough that she could go around in a T-shirt again. She couldn't wait to start getting some more sun. She missed the long afternoons she had been lying on the beach during their honeymoon.

  The real estate agent's car was already parked in the neighbor's driveway. Ellie and Russell walked across the lawn, both of them looking carefully at the house as they approached. Now that she was thinking of buying it, Ellie had taken to looking at it in a new light whenever she went by. It really was a beautiful house. Where her grandmother's home was a large, square, whitewashed building, this house was more rectangular, taller than it was wide, with neatly fitted red bricks. We could extend the fencing, she thought. Enclose the entire front yard. It would be wonderful for the dogs. Maybe we could even set up some sort of cage for Marlowe outside. I'm sure she would love to sit in the sun when the weather is nice.

  She shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. So much was still up in the air, and like Russell said, they weren't even sure if they would like the interior yet. Even if they did, whatever happened with the case might complicate matters.

  The real estate agent opened the door for them when they walked up. Smiling brightly, Angela reached out and shook first Ellie’s, then Russell's hand. Her curly blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, and her makeup was spotless.

  “I'm glad the two of you wanted to see the place,” she said. “Thank you, sheriff, for letting us move forward with the sale.”

  “Well, we had everything we needed from the building, and since the owner is still adamant about selling, there wasn't much that we could do. Have you had much interest in the home?”

  “Not so much, yet,” the woman said. “Word about the murder seems to have gotten out. You two are the first couple to come and look at it. I hope you like it. Ellie here told me about her grandmother, and I think this place would be just perfect for you. You don't have many other close neighbors, so you probably won't get a chance like this again.”

  “That's exactly what I'm thinking,” Ellie said, slipping off her shoes as they walked inside. The grass outside was damp, and she didn't want to track any dirt in. “How could we possibly pass something like this up? Even though the house has something of a dark history now, I really can't imagine anything better for us and for my grandmother. She would love it if we lived right next door to her.”

  As the door shut behind them, Ellie looked up, seeing the interior of the house for the first time. Her breath caught. It was beautiful. The entrance area was a large foyer with a recessed ceiling and beautiful woodwork. The floors were dark hardwood, finely polished. The walls were painted a pale cream color, not quite white, but not quite anything else either.

  “Luckily, the tenant had a will that stated all of his possessions should be donated to a charity if he passed away. He has no immediate relatives, so it should be pretty clear-cut. We’re already working with a company to get movers here to clear everything out. The owner is willing to sell the house partially furnished at no extra cost, though if you want to bring your own furniture, that can be arranged as well. Now, it's a bit of a mess further in. We had to strip out some of the carpet on the stairs and in the hallway, but the owner is going to knock something off of the purchase price to make up for that. It shouldn't be anything too hard for you to fix up.”

  Ellie exchanged a look with Russell. They both knew why the carpet had to be removed. Ellie remembered seeing the dark spots of blood the night that they had gone to investigate the gunshot.

  “If you follow me this way, we'll go i
nto the living room. It's more of a den, I suppose. There is a large sitting room attached to the kitchen, and I think that's what the tenant used as his main living area. The living room looks out into the partially fenced front yard, and has a functional fireplace, though the previous tenant didn't use it per the rental agreement. You'll probably want to have an inspector come out and make sure it's in working order before you use it.”

  Ellie and Russell took their time walking around the living room. Ellie forced herself to look past her neighbor's belongings and look at the bones of the house, trying to imagine her own furniture in its place. The floor of the living room was a plush, white carpet, and the fancy woodwork on the ceiling was the same in the living room as it had been in the foyer. The windows that looked out over the front yard were large, and she thought that Marlowe would love having a wooden play stand right in front of them. So far, she liked the house quite a lot, but she was still trying not to get her hopes up.

  The real estate agent led them out of the living room and down a carpeted hallway. To the left were the stairs, and in front of them was the kitchen. Ellie was admiring the beautiful granite countertops when they heard a knock at the front door. She looked over at Angela and saw an expression of surprise cross the woman's face for an instant before she said, “I'll go see who that is. The two of you can keep looking around.”

  Ellie joined Russell next to the sliding glass door at the rear of the kitchen and looked out over the backyard with him. “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I like it so far,” he said.

  “So do I.” She slipped her hand into his. Was it possible that they had found their house?

  She heard footsteps behind her and both of them turned around to see Wilbur Brown and Angela standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  “I told you I wanted to get the house fixed up before you started showing it,” Mr. Brown said, looking at Angela with annoyance.

  “These are the neighbors,” Angela said. “They're interested in the house. I didn't think it would be a problem.”

  “Half the stairs are missing carpet, and a good portion of the hallway is, too. You can’t show the house like this. Now if they don't buy it, it's going to be your fault.”

  “Excuse me,” Ellie said. “But we are aware of why the carpet’s missing. That won’t factor into our decision at all. My husband and I were the ones who found the body in the first place.”

  Mr. Brown looked at her, then seemed to take note of Russell for the first time. “Oh, you're the sheriff. I suppose it's okay, then. You already know all about what happened here. I'll just let you get back to it.”

  He turned and walked away down the hallway. Ellie looked up at Russell, eager to continue their tour, but Russell was staring after the older man, frowning.

  “What is it?” Ellie asked.

  “He's not limping,” Russell said. “You continue with the tour. I'll be right back.”

  Russell vanished down the hallway, brushing past Angela as he pursued Mr. Brown. Ellie sighed. She knew that her husband was just doing his job, but it would have been nice for them to finish the tour together before something came up.

  “Can we check out the upstairs?” she asked the real estate agent. “My husband will catch up eventually, I'm sure.”

  “Sure. Now, as you know, the house has three bedrooms. Two are upstairs, and one is downstairs, adjacent to the foyer. We passed it on our way and I’ll be sure to point it out on our way back through the house.”

  Angela led the way upstairs, gripping the rail and carefully stepping over the bare spots where the carpet had been stripped away. Ellie looked down, glad to see that all traces of blood had been removed. She would never forget what had happened in this house, but she certainly didn't want to be reminded of it visually on a daily basis.

  The two bedrooms and master bath upstairs were spacious and clean. Ellie fell in love with the deep, walk-in closet in the largest bedroom. The house was a lot newer than her grandmother's house, and Ellie found herself falling in love with every single bit of it. She could imagine her and Russell building a life here, together.

  “I've lived next to this house for almost two years, and I never even imagined what it looks like inside. It's beautiful.”

  “It really is,” Angela said. “I'm sure it will go quickly once we get the carpeting fixed up and everything cleaned out. It's a shame about what happened. It really lowered the value of the house, but the lower cost might also help it sell quickly.”

  It's also a shame that someone died, Ellie thought. She knew that Angela was just doing her job, but she came off as somewhat cold. Deciding to keep her thoughts to herself, Ellie walked around the upstairs, looking through the rooms. It really was a beautiful house. She hoped that Russell would be on board with buying it – and that nothing stood in their way.

  “If you think you're interested, you should put an offer in quickly. Our office is open until five this evening. Well, I suppose you could just go downstairs and make a direct offer to the owner if you wanted to.” She chuckled.

  “I've never actually bought a house before,” Ellie said. “Would we have to go back to your office to discuss details, or can we just do everything directly with Mr. Brown?”

  “Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm just eager to see this place sell. Kittiport is growing, and new homes are being built, but not many people move away. I haven't sold a house since, well it must have been mid-summer.” She laughed. “I was getting close to having to pick up another job just to make my mortgage.”

  Ellie nodded. That explained why Angela seemed so eager to sell the home quickly. From the sound of it, she was rushing things a bit more quickly than the owner wanted her to.

  “And I know that you might have some hesitation due to what happened to the tenant, but I don't think it's anything you have to worry about. I’m sure it was completely random. I doubt the killer will ever come back here. You would be perfectly safe here.”

  “We don't even know why he was killed,” Ellie said. “And yes, that is one of the things I'm hesitant about. I don't think I'd feel right buying a home in which a murder was committed while the murderer is still at large. I wouldn't want to put myself or Russell in danger if he came back.”

  “Trust me, that won't happen,” Angela said. “This house would be perfect for you two.”

  Ellie opened her mouth to agree, then hesitated. “How can you be so certain that the killer won't come back?” she asked, frowning. Angela hadn’t sounded like she was guessing at all; she had sounded absolutely certain.

  “Oh, well, I'm just saying… it’s not very likely. I think you would be just fine here. Your husband is the sheriff, isn’t he? No one will mess with him.”

  Ellie nodded, but something was bothering her. Angela had just mentioned how much she needed the money. The tenant had finally agreed to move out, but not for a couple of months, thus delaying Angela’s ability to close a deal for even longer. If she really needed to sell a house, then that might have given her motive to kill the reluctant tenant.

  Ellie decided to play along and see what she could figure out. Russell was right downstairs; she wasn't in any real danger, was she?

  “Actually, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I think they have a pretty good lead on who the killer is. Russell told me he thought it might be a woman. I guess they found some long hair downstairs that didn't belong here.”

  She saw Angela's hand go to her head protectively, and her stomach dropped. She backed away, making sure that she kept the path to the stairs clear behind her.

  “Is that so?” Angela asked, her voice unusually high. “Well, that's good news, isn't it?”

  “It is,” Ellie said. “I'm going to go find Russell. I think he really needs to see this bedroom.”

  She was relieved when Angela didn't move as she hurried down the hall to the stairs. She grabbed the railing and took the steps two at a time, and when
she reached the bottom, she looked around for her husband. She caught a glance of him outside through the sliding door; he was standing next to the homeowner, looking at the forest. She slid the door open and slipped out to stand beside them.

  “Sorry,” Russell said. “I got distracted talking to Mr. Brown. There's nothing to worry about.”

  The older man chuckled. “Your husband here thought I might have had something to do with my poor tenant's death. He has quite the eye, to notice that I wasn’t limping today. I just got a new arthritis medication, which as I told him, the doctors will confirm. I picked it up a couple of days ago, and it's been working wonders. While I might've had personal issues with the tenant being so reluctant to move out, I promise that I had nothing to do with his death. That poor man. Nothing like this has ever happened in any of the homes I own.”