Free Beach Town Trouble (A Port Grace Cozy Mystery Book 2) by Emily Page Page A

said Georgia, when Tim was on his second piece of paper. “We have to stop him.”
    “We can make a citizen’s arrest,” said Ryan. “This video gives us cause. Follow me.”
    Ryan did not have to pick the lock this time. The two of them rushed into the kitchen, and Tim Jr. cried out and snatched at the stack of papers when he saw them, ready to throw the stack into the fire. Ryan tackled him to the floor before he could do so.
    “Get off me! I’ll have you arrested,” said Tim Jr.
    “That’s funny,” said Ryan, “because I’m putting you under citizen’s arrest for tampering with evidence in a murder case, and possibly for breaking and entering.” Ryan took out the cuffs he kept on him for his job and secured Tim Jr.’s hands. “Where is your aunt?”
    Tim Jr. only glared at Ryan and Georgia. Georgia knelt to pick up the scattered papers when a giant crash came from overhead.
    “You watch him,” said Georgia. “I’ll go check it out.”
    “Be careful,” said Ryan.
    Georgia raced up the stairs and found the source of the crash in Camila’s study. Camila had been tied to her own chair by the scarves that had been draped over it. One of the scarves gagged her mouth. In her struggle to free herself, she had accidentally tipped the chair over. She was moaning in pain when Georgia entered and freed her.
    “Why didn’t they tell me?” said Camila when Georgia removed the gag.
    “Who? Tell you what?”
    “The spirits,” said Camila as Georgia gently helped her to her feet. “Why didn’t they tell me he was a bad boy?”

Chapter 9
    “ O kay , Miss Mason,” said Crimbleton, holding out Ryan’s phone and squinting so that she could see the video clearly, “you and your P.I. here take the lead, because you’re going to have to explain this one to me.”
    “You can’t prove anything,” said Tim Jr., his blond hair in disarray from Ryan wrestling him into the car. “I want my lawyer.”
    “So you’ve said,” said Georgia, settling into one of the metal chairs across from Tim in the interrogation room. “He’s coming. That doesn’t mean I can’t explain the evidence to the chief. You might want to listen up, too, Timmy.”
    Georgia winked at him, and he scowled in return. Georgia held out a hand, and Ryan handed her the papers they had collected from Camila’s house.
    “This is what he was trying to burn, Chief,” said Georgia. “Most of them are letters between himself and his Aunt Camila. I assume he got them from her study. It was full of papers.”
    “The crazy old broad doesn’t throw away anything,” Tim Jr. grumbled.
    “I suspect she either told him that she kept their correspondence, or he found them when he tied her up and tried to frame her for his father’s murder.”
    “Frame her?” said Crimbleton. “What do you mean?”
    “I’ll get to that,” said Georgia. “First, you need to understand what the letters reveal. I read a few on the way over here, and it was enough to get the basic idea. You can take a look for yourself.”
    Crimbleton sat next to Georgia and began pulling the letters toward herself.
    “It seems Tim Jr. has a gambling problem. We told you about his arrests at the casinos. Those fights he got in with staff were probably started when the staff tried to…send a message. I think that when that warrant for his finances comes through, you’ll find that Timmy here has lost his fortune to gambling debt.”
    Tim Jr. slumped in his chair and crossed his arms like a petulant child.
    “The first letter to Camila is dated two years ago,” said Georgia. “It seems he didn’t even know she existed until then—a product of his near estrangement with his father. In fact, I’m willing to bet the reason Tim Sr. had less and less to do with his son had as much to do with Timmy’s growing gambling addiction as his disapproval of Timmy’s refusal to work.
    “Anyways, when Timmy couldn’t get any more money out of his father and learned about his aunt, he