Chapter Five
Jill Holbrook’s office at the Holbrook Police Department was cluttered but functional. Stacks of files teetered on the corners of her desk, and a corkboard on the wall displayed a chaotic patchwork of case notes and photos.
Jill tried to focus on the paperwork for the Chips Hogan case.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
Mason stepped in, ushering in a young couple. “Chief, Gary and Andrea Kirklys are here. They’d like to speak with you.” Their hyper terrier mix darted into the room, tail wagging furiously.
“Please, come in, take a seat,” Jill corrected, eyeing the dog’s rapid exploration of her office. “And who’s this?”
“That’s Millie,” Andrea said with a nervous laugh, gripping the leash tightly. “She’s … friendly.”
Gary looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. “Look, we’re not sure if this is even important,” he muttered.
“Go on,” Jill said, gesturing for them to sit. She glanced at Mason. “Wait at your desk.”
Mason hesitated. “Hey, I was wondering, can I head to lunch early?”
“No,” Jill replied. “Go back to your desk. I’ll call you if I need you.”
Mason sighed and backed out of the office, closing the door behind him.
Andrea cleared her throat. “Gary was reading about Chips Hogan’s murder on the Chronicle website. It … sparked something. We were out walking Millie that night, and we saw something that might help.”
Millie leaped up, pawing at Jill’s desk. Jill opened a drawer and pulled out a small bag of dog treats. “Here, Millie. Let’s calm you down.” She tossed a treat to the dog, who eagerly pounced on it.
“We were near The Chowder House,” Andrea began, “and Millie stopped to do her business by the alley behind the restaurant. That’s when we saw a man loitering outside the back door.”
Jill leaned forward. “Can you describe him?”
“Older,” Andrea said. “Sixty-five or seventy, maybe. He was wearing a cap and bundled up. It was cold that night, so it was hard to tell much else. Normal height. We didn’t recognize him. But we did see him slip in through the back door of the diner—like he didn’t want anyone to notice.”
Jill jotted down notes. “Did you see anyone else?”
Andrea hesitated. “There was another dog walker. She had a really big dog, and Millie was scared at first. But the other dog was friendly, and they got along after a minute.”
“Do you remember what kind of dog it was?” Jill asked.
Andrea’s face brightened. “Yes, it was a Newfoundland.”
Jill’s mind clicked into gear. “That must be Katty Caulfield. She works at the Seaview Diner and is always walking her Newfoundland around town. Thank you for coming in. This could be helpful.”
She walked the couple and Millie out, giving the dog one last pat. Turning to Mason, who was at his desk, scrolling on his computer, she said, “We’re heading to the Seaview Diner. Let’s go.”
“Great! I’m so hungry I feel light-headed. Can we stop at the vending machine on our way out so I can nibble on something on the ride over there?”
“No!” Jill barked, charging off with Mason chasing after her like a puppy dog.
The Seaview Diner was bustling with its usual lunch crowd. Jill and Mason slid into a booth near the window. Katty Caulfield, a cheerful woman in her mid-thirties, approached them with a notepad in hand.
“Hey there, Chief, Mason! What can I get for you?” she asked, her smile bright.
“We’ll just have coffee,” Jill said.
Mason’s stomach grumbled audibly. “Just coffee?”
Jill ignored him. “How’s Boris?”
Katty laughed. “Boris is his usual high-maintenance self.”
“Is Boris your boyfriend?” Mason asked innocently.
Katty howled. “No, he’s my Newfoundland. But he might as well be. He’s just as demanding of my time as my last boyfriend but much more loyal. I don’t have to worry about Boris sneaking off behind my back to see that pretty new yoga instructor who teaches at the YWCA on Mondays.”
“I’d take a dog over a boyfriend any day,” Jill said. “By the way, were you walking him near The Chowder House on Sunday night?”
Katty hesitated. “Uh, yes. We were out for our usual nighttime walk.”
“Did you see anyone else in the alley besides the young couple, Gary and Andrea Kirklys?” Jill asked.
Katty’s smile faded. “I—I did see someone. But I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”
Jill pressed. “Katty, this is serious. We need to know who it was.”
After a long pause, Katty sighed. “It was Waldo Duggan. He works here. He can be moody, sure, but he’s not a bad guy. He’d never hurt anyone.”
“Everyone in town knows Waldo has a problem with The Chowder House,” Jill said somberly.
Katty hesitated again. “Well, he claims their clam chowder recipe was stolen from his family. But … I’m sorry, Jill. I know you’re a Holbrook.”
Jill waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. What time is Waldo’s shift today?”
“Today’s his day off,” Katty said.
Mason picked up a menu. “In that case, I’ll have a double cheeseburger, fries, and … Jill, want to split some fried clams?”
Jill snatched the menu out of his hands and gave it back to Katty. “Cancel those coffees, Katty.” Then she turned to Mason and frowned. “A murder investigation doesn’t stop just because you’re hungry. Let’s go.”
Waldo Duggan’s house was modest but well-kept, with neatly trimmed hedges and a freshly painted porch. Jill knocked firmly on the door. Waldo answered, looking annoyed.
“If you’re here about my neighbors blasting their music, I’ve already called twice,” Waldo said.
“We’ll look into it,” Jill said. “But we’re here about Chips Hogan.”
Waldo stiffened. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a shift at the diner. I need to go.”
“That’s odd,” Jill replied. “Katty told us today was your day off.”
Waldo glared. “Since when has Katty started memorizing my work schedule?”
“Mind if we come in?” Jill asked.
“Do you have a warrant?” Waldo snapped.
“Why? Do we need one?” Jill shot back.
After a tense moment, Waldo sighed and stepped aside. “Fine. Come in.”
The living room was small but tidy, with an old plaid couch and a coffee table stacked with newspapers. Jill noticed Waldo’s face was shiny with sweat. His hands trembled slightly as he gestured for them to sit.
“You all right?” Jill asked.
“Yes, I’m all right!” Waldo snapped. “Is that why you’re here, is this some kind of wellness check?”
Jill leaned forward, locking eyes with Waldo. “As I mentioned, we’re here to talk about Chips Hogan.”
A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, and he started wringing his hands, then in as casual a tone as he could muster, asked, “Uh, can I get you some coffee or something?”
“We’re good, thanks,” Jill said firmly.
“I’ll take some,” Mason chimed in, earning a glare from Jill. Mason took his cue and shook his head. “Thanks, anyway.”
Jill didn’t waste time. “Two witnesses saw you loitering in the alley behind The Chowder House Sunday night. What were you doing there?”
“That’s a lie,” Waldo said. “I was just walking by.”
“They saw you go inside,” Jill countered.
He opened his mouth but hesitated to speak.
Waldo paused. “Fine. I popped in to say hello to Ethel, but she wasn’t there. I’ve got nothing against Ethel.” He looked pointedly at Jill. “My beef is with your family. The Holbrooks stole that recipe from my family.”
Mason’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension.
Waldo barked, “Help yourself to the pantry, if you’re that hungry.”
Mason glanced at Jill for approval.
Jill sighed. “Fine. But make it quick.”
Mason disappeared into the kitchen.
Jill’s expression hardened. “Maybe Chips was collateral damage from you trying to exact your revenge on my family and The Chowder House for supposedly stealing your family’s recipe?”
“Like I said, Ethel’s a good egg. A real sweetheart. If I decided to go after your family, Chief, I wouldn’t endanger Ethel’s business, her livelihood, not in a million years!”
“So the door was unlocked?”
Waldo nodded.
“The staff says the back door is always locked.”
“Then I guess the staff is wrong. Somebody left it unlocked.”
Jill considered this curious detail.
Moments later, Mason returned from the pantry, pale and holding a plant. “Jill, look at this. It was in the pantry behind some crackers. It looked strange, like why would anyone keep a plant in a dark place with no light, so I took a photo and looked it up online. It’s a belladonna plant.”
Jill’s eyes narrowed. “Deadly nightshade. The same poison found in Chips Hogan’s system.”
She stood, pulling out her handcuffs. “Waldo Duggan, you’re under arrest for the murder of Chips Hogan.”
Mason’s eyes widened as Jill added, “Mason, be careful with that. Don’t touch it. The whole plant is toxic. The root, the stem, the leaves … everything. It can kill you.”
Mason yelped and dropped the plant on the floor, stepping back quickly.
Waldo stood frozen in shock as Jill cuffed him, her tone icy. “You’re coming with us.”