Murder at the Weddings: a 1950s cozy historical mystery (A Rosa Reed Mystery Book 10) by Lee Strauss & Norm Strauss

Author:Lee Strauss & Norm Strauss [Strauss, Lee & Strauss, Norm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781774092163
Publisher: La Plume Press
Published: 2022-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

15

The next day, Officer Hank Brummel, on duty and in full uniform, sat in Miguel’s office trying to win over the affections of Diego, who was sprawled out on the floor, observing.

“I’ve always had a way with cats,” Officer Brummel said as he reached to stroke Diego’s head with his huge hand.

Diego’s ears went flat, his eyes narrowed, and he ducked his head slightly under the officer’s touch while his tail swished slowly back and forth.

“I’ve seen him take a man’s arm off,” Miguel said with a barely hidden smirk as he watched Diego’s reaction.

Hank Brummel chortled but withdrew his hand.

“That was a while ago,” Miguel continued mildly, “but once they’ve tasted human blood . . .”

“Detective Belmonte!” Rosa scolded.

“Sorry, just kidding. He’s really a sweetheart.”

“Yes, he is,” Rosa agreed.

“That incident with the neighbor’s French poodle was just a misunderstanding,” Miguel said nonchalantly as he took out his notepad from his top drawer. “We made sure Fifi had a nice funeral. I’m sure Mrs. Gonzales will find another dog soon.”

Rosa rolled her eyes. Miguel sometimes liked to needle suspects who he suspected had lied to him.

“Okay, I get it,” Officer Brummel said uneasily. “You’re kiddin’ me.” He glanced down at Diego, who stared at him balefully.

Folding his arms, Officer Brummel asked, “What did you want to see me about?”

Miguel’s expression grew serious as he leaned forward, propped his elbows on his desk, and clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at Hank Brummel for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know what it’s like in Los Angeles, but here at the Santa Bonita precinct, we don’t often have officers lie during a murder investigation.”

Hank Brummel blinked rapidly, and his face lost some of its color. “Whatcha mean?”

“You’re married, aren’t you?” Rosa said.

“To a . . .” Miguel consulted his notes. “. . . Marjorie Brummel, formerly Marjorie Greening. You told us you were divorced and that your former wife lived in New Jersey.”

“I . . .”

“Did you think we wouldn’t check you out?” Miguel asked. “This was information our department found out with just a couple of phone calls.”

There was silence in the room for a few minutes as Officer Hank Brummel leaned forward and hid his face in his hands.

Rosa cleared her throat, then asked, “Does Mrs. Brummel know about Charlene Winters?”

Officer Brummel shook his head. “Look, I know guys say this all the time, but I’ve never done anything like this. It just kind of happened. Charlene mesmerized me. I lost my head.” He looked at the ceiling for a moment as if confessing to God. “I love my wife; I really do. It just . . . happened. I have no excuse.”

“I’m sure you’re aware of how this looks?” Miguel said.

“I know, I know,” Officer Brummel blurted. “But I didn’t kill her! I barely even knew her. I didn’t love her or anything. It was just . . . I don’t know what it was. But I didn’t kill her. Why would I?”

“Perhaps she was going to tell your wife?” Rosa said.

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