Page 72 of Christmas Mittens Murder

“Somebody connected with town told me,” Cam said.

“Yeah, there’s always a blabbermouth in City Hall.” He pressed his lips together.

“Have the police made any headway yet?” I asked.

“No, but I got a pretty good idea who done it. Yes, I surely do.”

I’d opened my mouth to ask more questions when Cam spoke.

“Good luck with the fair tomorrow.” She motioned for me to continue down the path with her.

After we were out of earshot, I said, “I was about to ask him if he knew how she died and who might have done it.”

“I thought so. If I might offer a word of advice, you need to take it a little more slowly, Cece. You start grilling a guy like him and you run the risk of him getting suspicious. You’ll never learn anything.”

“Is this week one of Amateur Detecting 101?” I asked.

“Could be.” She smiled.

“Thanks for the lesson. I mean it. This is a whole new world for me.”

Chapter Eight

After our outing, Cam retreated to her suite to get ready for her day. I popped my head into the kitchen, where Allie sat at the kitchen table with her laptop and various papers spread around. I helped myself to a mug of coffee, dosed it with cream, and sat across from my sister.

“Good walk?” Allie asked, not looking up.

“Yes. We met Val’s ex setting up for the holiday fair.”

“Otto.” Now Allie looked at me. “Learn anything?”

“Not much, except he seemed in shock she’d been murdered.”

“That’s no surprise. He can hardly say, ‘Good riddance,’ can he?”

“You haven’t heard how she died, have you?” I asked.

“No, and Quan hasn’t been back, either.” She typed for a moment. “I’m sorry, sis, but I have to get this offer in ASAP, or the house’ll get snapped up by another buyer.”

“Good luck. I’m going to go upstairs and do a little research on my own laptop.” I grabbed an apple out of the bowl and trudged up to my room with it and the mug.

Cam had suggested undertaking online digging if I had time, which was brilliant. I fired up the laptop and settled in at the desk overlooking the driveway.

The driveway. It still bugged me I hadn’t been able to verify Allie’s presence in the house to Detective Quan for the night of the murder. Even if I’d been awake, my sister could have left the house quietly, since her bedroom was downstairs. She drove an all-electric car, which was silent. If she’d left the headlights off until she reached the street, I might not have noticed her departure. None of which she would have done, anyway.

I shook my head and mounted a search for Colinas Community Coalition. The members seemed to include most of the Manzanita Boulevard businesses, from the banks to Hoppy Hills brewpub to Edie’s Diner to the hair salon, Shear Illusions. The Colinas Garden Club was a member, as was Allie’s real estate agency and the local Lions Club, among other non-storefront businesses and organizations.

Maybe I could go up and down the street and talk to owners. Doing so seemed daunting. I couldn’t walk up and ask them if they’d had issues with Val and had killed her. I’d have to think about another approach.

Letting out a breath, I turned to Otto Harper. What did he do when he wasn’t managing the complex? The job couldn’t take much time. It probably involved only collecting rent and reporting to the board. He’d looked strong and a little rough, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors.

It didn’t take me long to find Harper Landscaping Services, owned by Otto Harper. He apparently designed residential gardens and patios but also mowed lawns and took away leaves. No wonder his hands were strong, although it made me wonder why he’d had trouble with the table earlier. Maybe Val’s interest in gardening came from him? I couldn’t find out where he lived. What if he’d designed a showcase garden in the house the couple had shared but she’d gotten the home in the settlement? Resentment might have fueled rage, leading to murder. And being house-rich but cash-poor could explain her pushing to sell her handmade mittens.

Allie probably knew where Val lived, except I didn’t want to bother her during her urgent task.

I searched next for Val’s brother, Rafael Torres. I easily found him on the high school website. He was older than I was but younger than Val, possibly by as much as ten years, unless this picture was dated. They resembled each other, with the same dark hair and the same white streak. But where her features were heavier, Rafael’s looked lighter, leaner. He taught science and math at the school and coached the cross-country team.

He wouldn’t last long with teenagers in a school setting if he had an anger issue. It was Thea who mentioned he’d been expressing a lot of anger about his sister. Directly afterward, Thea had clammed up about how she knew him and what in particular had made him angry. Interesting.

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