Donnie stared at her with his mouth open. His jaw worked, but nothing came out.
“I just want help with a task, then I’ll be out of your hair. If you want, I can drop the charade and just act like I want to. I’m sure I’d be different enough for you, then.”
“I don’t want you to act any different!” Donnie dropped down into the sofa and picked up the remote. “That was just an observation.”
“Then, I’ll make one too,” Alice said. “My observation is that it’ll be quicker and easier if you help me than if you don’t.” She plucked the remote back out of his hand. “So, are you going to help me?”
He stared at her for a minute, a smile slowly blossoming on his face. “Sure, I’ll help you.” Donnie sat back in the chair with a shake of his head. “It can be my charitable volunteer work for the year.”
Alice caught the teasing tone on that one and mock hit him with the remote. “First off, do you mind telling me if you killed Alex Dunbar? I’d like to strike one person off my suspect list!”
After a few minutes of awkward conversation, amongst which Donnie protested his innocence, Alice laid out the pool of suspects she’d concocted the night before. She ended with her revelation that Michael must have seen the person who did it.
“Good luck getting in to see him,” Donnie said. “I agree, it’s possible he might have been a witness to something, but I doubt his mother will open the door to anyone except the police if that’s the case.”
“Should we tell them our thoughts?” Alice had talked to the sergeant on a previous case and found him to be reasonable. However, she was also aware he might not be so receptive at the moment, considering he believed her business partner was the killer.
“How about we keep things close to our chest until we have something better than a nagging suspicion?” Donnie stretched and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on. “I need some coffee if I’m going to keep my mind sharp enough for this.”
Alice followed him through. “What do you know about the janitor?”
“First off, Wallace isn’t a janitor. I believe his full job title is groundskeeper and maintenance man. The school has a cleaning staff, though they’re through an agency, not direct hires.”
“Wallace?”
“Wallace Featherston. And yes, he had a retirement party planned for this Friday. I thought it was a voluntary affair, but from what Trish told me yesterday, our esteemed colleague arranged it behind his back to force him out.”
“Could Alex really do that?”
Donnie shook his head. “No. Wallace needed to hand in a notice of resignation before he’d be able to let him go. Perhaps he was hoping to force his hand or help him decide.”
“Had Wallace said he might be close to retiring?”
At that question, Donnie thought for a minute, then shrugged. “I don’t hang out with the guy enough to answer that one. Barely saw him around Tashmore at all. He wasn’t overly friendly if you get my drift. Tended to find jobs to do outside when the rest of the staff were on their scheduled break times.”
Alice could sympathize with that. When she glanced over at Donnie again, she saw a wry smile on his face and wondered if her own expression had reflected the fleeting thought.
“What about Trish? Would she know?”
“She’d know more, just because she kept her ear to the ground.” Donnie offered a broad smile. “Or because she genuinely cares about him. But, if she’s on your suspect list too, then I wouldn’t waste her time asking about Wallace. No matter what his reasons, I don’t think the old coot has the strength.”
“Really?” The strongest person Alice knew was Doug, and although he might be a few years younger, he wasn’t too far off in age from the groundskeeper. “I would’ve thought all that yard work would keep him fit.”
“Nah. If Alex was trying to force him out, he could probably get it done eventually through a job review. Not to be nasty, but Wallace had a stroke a few years back that left him with weakness on his right-hand side. Since he was right-handed, it didn’t work out too well.”
“Shouldn’t he have been let go at that time, if it affected his job?”
Donnie shrugged again. “That was well before Alex’s time, and the last guy to hold the job of principal was just waiting out his own retirement.” He paused and pursed his lips. “Tell you the truth, it was a bit of a wake-up call to the school to get somebody as young as Alex in there. Most of us who’d been there a few years got used to doing the bare minimum.”
“Is that why the finances are in such a state?”
“Who knows?” Donnie gave her a wink. “They don’t let us lowly teachers get hold of the finances for the school, you know. Besides, pouring through the ledgers would be too much like work.”
“You could get hold of them now, though, couldn’t you?”
When Donnie frowned, Alice continued with her line of thought. “You said Alex had called an accountant in to look over the books.”
“So?”
“An external accountant wouldn’t know who’s next in charge at the school. If you called him up, posing at the temporary principal, he’d probably be happy to share that information with you.”
“He’d probably be happy to pass on to the replacement principal that I requested the information, too. That won’t look great on my CV.”
“No, he won’t. By the time they sort that stuff out, it’ll be weeks down the track. The guy must look at over a dozen different sets of accounts daily. He won’t remember one little request.”
Donnie still didn’t look convinced, and since Alice wasn’t entirely sure of her argument either, she went in hard. “Even if he did, that’s his job on the line, not yours. The accountant’s the one who's responsible for the security of the documents under his control. If he figures out later that he shouldn’t have passed them on, then he’ll cover it up.”
With his eyebrows raised, Donnie gave her a nod. “I’m getting a whole new set of respect for you, Alice, the beekeeper. You’ve got a devious wee mind hidden away beneath that innocent facade.”
Together, they looked up the name of the accountant online, and Donnie put through a call. After a moment of exchanged pleasantries, he started the deception.
“I’m calling from Tashmore Primary School. I’m sure you’ve heard already that our principal met a rather grisly fate yesterday?”
Alice couldn’t make out the words from the person on the other end of the phone, but the cadence sounded like he was offering his sympathies. Donnie just nodded and waited for the man to finish.
“What I need from you, is a copy of the accounts that Alex Dunbar sent through to you from the school. I understand he was trying to trace some losses.”
Another pause as the man answered.
“I can send you through my school ID in an email. It’s easy enough to scan, will that do?”
One final pause and then Donnie put the phone down with a wide grin. “I’ve just got to send him through my tags, and he’ll email the accounts and his preliminary observations straight away. I guess you were right.”
Alice felt a small thrill of pride, then a niggle of worry that what they were doing wasn’t ethical.
Locking Sally up when she did nothing wrong isn’t ethical either.
If her mother had been there, Alice presumed she’d say two wrongs don’t make a right, but that knowledge didn’t stop her. When Sally was safely out of police clutches, she could sort her conscience out.
Until then, anything she could do, she would.
Chapter Thirteen
The set of accounts went on for so many pages that even a quick scan through them took minutes. Alice could have sworn the numbers were jumping around in front of her eyes a few seconds in.
“For the love of all that’s holy, make it stop,” Donnie groaned when they were halfway through the pdf file. “I promise, I’ll be good.”
“Here’s some handwriting,” Alice said as they neared the end of the documents. “I
think it might be the accountant’s conclusions.”
She peered at the messy scrawl for a few minutes, then shook her head. “Can you make this out? He might as well be writing in Swahili for all I can understand.”
Donnie stared for a few moments, then shook his head, giving a groan. “This is worse than my doctor’s handwriting. Just forward to the end and get it over with. That’s an hour of my life I’m not getting back.”
Alice turned to the very end of the document and discovered the accountant had typed his summary of findings there. “Thank goodness,” she said as she read them through quickly. “This says there’re discrepancies in the amounts shown. What does that mean?”
“Where?”
Alice pointed out the text on the screen, and Donnie bent over the computer screen again. “That doesn’t look good.” He sucked air in over his teeth while furrowing his brow. “According to this, someone’s been filching money from the school coffers.”
“In English, please.”
“Someone with access to the school accounts has been stealing. A pretty good sum, too.”
“Could that be down to the principal?” Alice tried to peer at the screen again, but Donnie was doing an impersonation of a door. “Would Mr. Dunbar be the one stealing?”
Donnie snickered at that. “Mr. Dunbar,” he muttered under his breath. “No. I can’t see any evidence of that. The man would hardly appoint an accountant to look over everything if he was the thief in the first place. He’d be hiding his tracks better than that.”
“Who else has access?” Even though she asked the question, Alice was pretty sure she already knew what he’d answer, and Donnie didn’t disappoint.
“The only other person, apart from some folks on the board of trustees, would be the treasurer.” He sat back, leaving the screen wide open for Alice to view if she wanted. Instead, she kept her eyes glued to the man’s face, trying to read his expression as it changed through a multitude of guises. “Once the school board gets hold of this, Trish Clarkson is going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
No matter how uncomfortable it felt for Alice to sit in front of Sergeant Hogarth and admit the various activities she’d just been involved in, she held firm to the main points. She needed to get across to the man how much likelier it was that Trish was responsible for Alex Dunbar’s killing.
Even when the sergeant’s expression changed from impatient politeness to outrage at Alice’s exploits, she made sure to fill him in on every last detail. If she got into trouble for her behavior, so be it. Just as long as Sally was set free, it didn’t matter.
Lying might be against her moral judgment, but no one was going to throw her in the slammer for fibbing to an accountant. Manipulation was frowned upon, but it couldn’t wind up with her behind bars.
Through deepening blushes, Alice made sure the officer knew her entire role and could assign blame correctly. She also ensured he knew about the embezzlement and Trish’s early arrival at school on the day of Alex Dunbar’s murder.
She’d only remembered that bit as she and Donnie argued logistics. He’d worked alongside Trish for so many years he didn’t want to condemn her on one set of inferred facts.
But the more they’d examined what they knew in light of the accounts and summary, the more the spotlight of guilt had shone Trish’s way. She’d been on the scene at the right time, had what looked to be over a hundred thousand dollars of motive, and would be someone who could scare Michael into silence with a threat.
Despite Donnie’s reluctance to accept his colleague was guilty, Alice knew she’d argued a good case. In the end, she settled it by saying they’d just turn the evidence over to the police and let the chips fall where they may. She kept her fingers crossed they fell in the direction of Sally’s release from the holding cells.
“This is very interesting,” Sergeant Hogarth said in a musing tone when Alice came to a halt. “What’s especially interesting is how, when my officers called this same accountant for the same information a few hours ago, he clammed up and insisted we produce a warrant before he could release the details.”
Alice blushed even harder, hanging her head down so the sergeant couldn’t see the full flush of guilt upon her face. “We expected something similar to happen when we called,” she said, again lying and not feeling nearly enough guilt. “It was just on the off-chance. I’m sorry if it meant your officers ran into trouble.”
“It wasted two of my men’s time, having to take out evidence down to the courthouse to obtain the warrant.”
“But it strengthens your case to have that, doesn’t it?” Alice risked a glance up, and at the furious thunderclouds darkening the sergeant’s face, rather wished she hadn’t. “No one will be able to say you didn’t do everything by the book.”
“No one would’ve said that either way.” The sergeant sounded even more disgruntled. “I’ve never run a dirty case and I’m not doing it with this one either.”
He thumped his palm flat down on the desktop with that last sentence and Alice jumped. After a moment, Sergeant Hogarth sighed. “Look, I realize you were only trying to help your friend, but please keep your nose out of my inquiries from now on. Murder is a serious business. If we don’t gain all the evidence we need because a layperson has been poking about before us, then our entire prosecution could be on the line.”
“I’m sorry.” Alice’s voice had disappeared somewhere so deep inside her it was barely audible. “I won’t do it again.”
After a moment of silence, she once again risked a glance at the sergeant. “But, since you’re talking about Sally, is there any reason to keep hold of her now this information has come to light?”
“We’ll decide that on our own terms and in our own good time.” Sergeant Hogarth stood up and gestured for Alice to do the same. “Now, why don’t you get out of my station before I find something to charge you with?”
Alice scurried out of the office, staring at the floor and hoping she hadn’t gotten her or Sally into deeper trouble. Donnie gave a yell as she walked into the reception area and clapped her on the shoulder with a hand she immediately threw off.
“Bit touchy, are we?”
“I’m always a bit touchy,” Alice said grumpily. “It’s part of being an Aspie.”
“Oh, right. I forgot.” He held his hands up. “Well, if I promise not to touch you, how about I take you out for lunch?”
“I can’t.” Alice sighed as she thought of all the other responsibilities weighing down upon her. The time spent at Donnie’s had been fun compared to what awaited her at the vet’s office and the café. “I’ve got to get home and start baking. Otherwise, my café will run out of food, then run out of customers.”
“You own a café?”
Donnie seemed absurdly delighted at the news and Alice gave him a glance full of suspicion. “I do. Why?”
“Well, that means lunch is on you, doesn’t it? Now, what help do you need with baking? I used to sub in for the Home Economics teacher back in the day.”
“Anything with honey.”
Donnie gave her a broad smile. “That’s fine, then. I can whip up a fantastic honey cake with honey cream icing, if you’ve got the ingredients.”
“What does it need?” Alice whipped out her phone, which held the full list of food stocked in the café and in her home. Donnie reeled off a list from memory, convincing her in the process he actually knew what he was talking about.
“All there.” Alice popped the phone away in her pocket. “Do you want to come to my house, or bake at the café?”
“Careful.” Donnie checked over his shoulder. “People might think you’re asking me on a date.”
Her snort of laughter wiped the smile off his face and Alice felt a small pang of remorse in the base of her stomach. She hadn’t meant to make fun of him, just assumed it was a joke.
“Café, it is, then,” she said, to cover her faux pas. “Then you can eat your own concoction for lunch or take advantage of something e
lse we have on hand.”
“It’s a deal.”
Harriet looked intrigued when Alice arrived, making more excuses than normal to join the two of them in the kitchen. Whenever she popped her head through the door, it seemed to be just to cast openly curious glances at Donnie.
Each time, Alice waved her back into the dining room to serve the customers, but with a light flow of clientele and the spare waitress from the temp agency efficiently dealing with everyone, she kept drifting back.
As Donnie began setting out the ingredients, Alice made a mental note. If the cake was a success, and not too similar to ones already in their repertoire, then she could add it to the stock of recipes.
He started off cutting a pound of butter in half and used the side of it to grease the round cake tin. He then began to cream it with the mixer, adding in three quarters of a cup of sugar and a half-cup of honey and beating until the mix was stiff and a rich off-white color.
Once Donnie reached a consistency he was happy with, he cracked in five large eggs, beating between additions until the mixture smoothed out into a batter, adding in a teaspoon of vanilla to round out the taste. Unable to help herself, Alice dipped a wooden spoon into the mix when he went to the pantry to take out the flour. She had it sucked dry before he turned back around, none the wiser.
The sweet rich taste of the mix heightened her anticipation while Donnie put two cups of flour plus a quarter teaspoon each of salt and nutmeg into the sifter. He slowly sifted it into the batter, pausing between each addition to mix it together, prior to adding another few turns of the handle. When finished, he poured it into the prepared tray and popped it into the oven at three hundred and twenty-five degrees.
Alice grabbed the used bowl and insisted on taking it over to the sink to wash. “It’s only fair, since you’re the one doing the baking,” she said, before sweeping her wooden spoon around the bowl a few more times, shielding the activity with her curled shoulder.
When she finished rinsing the bowl in the sink and had popped it into the dishwasher, Alice turned back to Donnie to find he’d placed a cup of fresh cream into a new bowl and was whisking it into soft ribbons. He folded in a tablespoon of Greek yoghurt and one of honey, then added a teaspoon of vanilla essence to balance with the cake.
Honeybee Cozy Mysteries Box Set Page 16