Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1) by Karen Chester Page A

are you doing snooping around here?”
    There was something familiar about the
man’s bristling moustache. Emma squinted more closely at the man threatening
her.
    “You’re Mateo Crespo, aren’t you?” she
said, quickly recovering her composure. “I’m Emma Cassidy. My father and I
visited you the night before last to talk about your son, Daniel.”
    The man paused, but the suspicious scowl
remained. “Why did you follow me to my work?”
    “You work for Tony Barnet?” She spoke
without thinking, then realized what she’d said. “I mean—”
    “Yes, I was Mr. Barnet’s gardener and
caretaker, and now I work for Miss Jordan.” His shoulders stiffened. “Did you
come here to make more trouble for me?”
    “No, no, of course not! I didn’t even know
you worked here. I came because Jordan asked me to. I’m organizing the
reception for Mr. Barnet’s funeral next Tuesday.”
    Mateo’s gaze remained cold and critical.
“But you made everyone sick at Mr. Barnet’s housewarming party.”
    “That food poisoning is still under
investigation.” She huffed out a breath. “Anyway, I’m here on legitimate
business. I’m not ‘snooping’ around.” Although she was searching for clues, she
had to admit.
    Mateo didn’t buy her story either. “But why
are you here in the garage? Did you think there would be a lot of blood? Tuh!”
He made a scornful sound. “I cleaned everything up. There’s nothing to see.”
    Don’t let his belligerence get under her
skin, she ordered herself. “So you worked for Mr. Barnet a long time? He was a
good employer?”
    Dark color seeped into his cheeks. “A lot
of people are unemployed these days. I was lucky to get this job.”
    So, not exactly a ringing endorsement,
then. But then she recalled that Mateo had to work long hours to pay for his
wife’s medication and that Daniel was missing school in order to nurse his
recuperating mother, and she felt bad for the Crespos.
    “I’m sure Jordan will want you to stay on,”
Emma said.
    Mateo jutted out his chin, rejecting her
attempt at friendliness.
    Emma decided to risk another question. “So did
you hear Mr. Barnet and Sean arguing here in the garage?”
    “No.”
    “No?” Was it another staff member who’d
overheard the argument?
    “They weren’t arguing here. They were out
there.” He gestured to the driveway outside. “Where Mr. McCluskey parked his
truck.”
    “Right. And where were you?”
    Mateo fingered his moustache. “Why do you
want to know?”
    “Er, just interested.”
    “You think I wasn’t doing my job, is that
it?” A threatening noise rumbled in his throat. “I was trimming that hedge.” He
jabbed a finger at the oleander shrubs just outside. “But when them two started
yelling, I moved to another job on the other side of the house. I don’t need to
get involved in their fights. But I was still working, so don’t you go spreading
lies about me to Miss Jordan.”
    “What?” Emma shook her head in
bewilderment. “I would never do something like that.”
    The man’s shoulders eased a fraction.
“Okay,” he dubiously replied.
    Maybe she could ask him one more question.
“So you didn’t hear Sean McCluskey leaving?”
    Mateo shook his head. “I worked on the far
side of the house until five. Then I locked up the tools in the shed and went
home. I never went near this garage.”
    From the housewarming party Emma knew of
the separate service lane that Mateo would have used. He wouldn’t have gone
past this garage, wouldn’t have noticed whether Sean was still there or not.
    “Thank you, Mr. Crespo. You’ve been a big
help.” She edged past him, anxious to get away from the garage and Mateo’s
brooding presence.
    “Miss Cassidy!” he barked out just as she
was climbing into her car.
    Her nerves jerked. She rolled down her
window. “Yes?”
    “Tell your father to stop interfering with
my son.”
    “ Interfering? ” She couldn’t help
gasping. “What exactly are you