Mayhem in May

by Camilla Chafer

  "Thanks, but..."

  "If they make any fuss about external applicants, I might even stay on just to prevent that from happening. What can they do about that? Nothing! I'm going to suggest to George that he sweetens the deal for you when he makes the formal offer. They should offer you a pay raise. Perhaps some more vacation days?"

  "I really haven't..."

  "And training courses. I know we had to turn down the one you wanted because of a lack of funds but I'll bet my last dollar the board have some extra reserves! George is a touch tight-fisted with the accounts, as we all know, but I think he'd manage to find some extra cash to keep you on. I'm just mad as heck about this, Tess. I really am."

  "I know, Artie, it's okay. I don't blame you." I couldn't help smiling at his remarks about George. He was very meticulous with the accounts, ensuring everything was counted to the last penny, especially over the last year when he kept grumbling about the museum's revenue and making cutbacks to ensure its longevity.

  "I don't know how this happened. One minute, they were excited about offering you the promotion and the next, they didn't offer it to you and gave it to Lance. And then!? Lance is found dead! What is happening? Am I hopelessly caught in some alternate reality?"

  I laughed. "We are definitely still in this world," I told him. "Please don't get upset about the board's decision. I know it had nothing to do with you and I'm very grateful that you lobbied on my behalf. Given their decision, I'm not even sure I'd take the promotion now. Not that they've offered it to me."

  "I keep thinking Lance must have done something to snatch that promotion."

  "Like stealing my ideas?" I paused as Artie's head shot up. "He did," I confirmed, "and they weren't even my best ones, which is all the more perplexing."

  "He stole your ideas? Why am I not surprised? That scheming, little rat! When the police catch the person who did this, I'm going to send them a muffin basket!" Artie finished his declaration by thumping his fist on his desk, sending pens and paper clips aloft.

  "About Lance..."

  "Artie! Tess! Come quick!"

  I twisted in my chair as Karen came flying through the door, her face red and flustered.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, frowning.

  "You have to come quick! It's Ethan!" Karen turned and hightailed it out of the door as she raced across the corridor.

  "What happened? Did he hurt himself?" I called after her as I got to my feet but she was too far ahead.

  "You go on," said Artie, waving me away. "I'll follow you as fast as I can."

  "Okay," I agreed. I hurried along the corridor, down the stairs and into the lobby, afraid at what I might see. Karen stood at the main doors, her jaw wide open and eyes worried. "Oh, Tess, this is just awful!" she sighed as I hurried to join her. She pointed outside and I followed the direction of her finger to a Calendar police cruiser. Detective Logan placed a hand on Ethan's head as he ushered him onto the backseat. As the door slammed shut, Ethan looked up and our eyes met.

  "What is going on?" panted Artie, joining us at the window.

  "Detective Logan just arrested Ethan!" I gasped.

  Chapter Ten

  "Drink this." I pushed the mug of hot, sweet tea towards Karen. She wrapped her hands around it, hanging her head. "Tell us what happened."

  Karen and I sat on the couch in the lobby while Artie paced in front of us. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was apparently deep in thought. Every few seconds, he crossed a deep band of sunlight filtering through the window before stepping into the shadow again.

  "Detective Logan came in and asked if Ethan was here because his office, that is, Ethan's office, told him he was here. I said he was and he asked me to call Ethan over; but right at that moment, Ethan came inside with the keys," Karen said, her words slipping together in her haste. "I went back to rearranging the pamphlets at the reception desk, since I'm always looking for things to do what with there not being any visitors to help. This is why I volunteered to help with the audit because..."

  "Don't worry about that now," I cut in. "Did you overhear what was said between Detective Logan and Ethan?"

  "Not really. Detective Logan said he wanted to ask Ethan a few questions and Ethan said ‘Now?’ and then he said he needed to return the keys. Detective Logan said he could give the keys to me and yes, he wanted to see him now and a car was waiting outside. Ethan asked what for but I don't know if he were asking why was he wanted at the station or why was there a car? Detective Logan repeated that he needed to ask him some questions and Ethan asked if he was being arrested. That's when I ran upstairs to get you but they were already outside by the time I returned!" She heaved to a stop and lifted the mug to her lips, blowing on the tea. "It sure looked like he was being arrested!"

  "Why on earth would they arrest Ethan? If they think that nice, young man has got something to do with this Lance business, I'll go down there right now and give that Sam Logan a piece of my mind!" Artie announced as he resumed pacing. "He's got no business harassing the good people of this town!"

  "He's just trying to catch a killer," I reminded him as worry coursed through me.

  "Ethan Ray?" Artie blew a contemptible raspberry.

  I bit back a smile since I agreed with him. Ethan as Lance's killer? It just seemed too ridiculous.

  The doors opened, sending a breezy gust over us, and George Phelps stepped inside along with Enid Lane, one of the other board members. George took one look at us and frowned. "Everything okay?" he asked.

  "We're all fine," I said, shooting a warning glance at Karen and shaking my head. It didn't seem fair to tell George about Ethan's arrest. Hopefully no one else saw it. That kind of gossip could be detrimental to his career and small-town careers were built on flawless reputations. Although I was sure Ethan wasn't the killer, I had no idea why Detective Logan would want to arrest him.

  "Artie, we should catch up," said George. "Let's go into your office. Enid and I have a few things to discuss with you about reopening the museum."

  "Damn stairs," muttered Artie but he took off all the same, leaving Karen and me alone in the lobby. For a moment, I watched them go, realizing I wasn’t invited to the meeting. Artie would have to let me know the decision later.

  "I'm going over to the police station to find out what's going on," I told her.

  "Should we get a lawyer for Ethan? I could call Sophie Sweet."

  "I think she's on maternity leave but when I get there, I'll find out if he needs one," I replied. "If you want to go home, tell Artie. The audit will have to wait for another day."

  "Are you sure?"

  I nodded.

  "Maybe I'll stick around a little while. Just in case. Someone has to answer the phones."

  "Let the answering machine do its job," I said. "Everyone in town knows what happened to Lance and no one expects the museum to be open. They probably won't even come after we do reopen. We should be prepared for some quiet weeks ahead."

  Karen glanced toward the exhibition room. "But your lovely exhibition will be ruined!"

  "It has three months to run. I'm sure it will be fine eventually. I'm going to grab my purse. I'll see you tomorrow."

  ~

  When I arrived at the police station, I asked for Detective Logan and was informed he was busy but I could take a seat. No, the officer didn't know how long he would be, but he would tell him I was waiting. With my cell phone in hand, and the printed sheets under it, I prepared to wait. After half an hour, Detective Logan appeared. I watched the desk officer pointing discreetly to me as Logan darted a glance from me to the rooms beyond the desk. Before he could make his escape, I waved and called his name.

  "Officer Nixon says you've been waiting to see me?"

  I got to my feet. "Ethan Ray is not a killer!"

  Detective Logan blinked. "Okay?"

  "He couldn't be. He barely knew Lance. Why would he kill someone he barely knew?"

  "People do that all the time."

  "Sure, but Lance's
murder looked personal. Ethan does not have a personal relationship with the victim."

  "That's what you were waiting to say?"

  "Yes. No! That is, yes, I wanted to say if you arrested Ethan for Lance's murder then I'm sure you've got the wrong guy. I have proof."

  The detective sucked in a long breath and folded his arms. "You do?"

  "That is, not proof exactly. I did some digging into those missing books and I think I found one. I'm sure it belongs to the museum and it was sold last month at an auction house in Georgia. It sold for more than nine thousand dollars. Sara Cutler also found a book I think is ours. It was sold for more than fifty!" I thrust the pages at him.

  Detective Logan let his eyes skim over the information. "Are you sure these are your books?"

  "Almost positive. I called about this one,” I said, jabbing the page he held, “but they wouldn't tell me who the buyer or the seller were. This is a good lead, Detective!"

  "I can see that."

  "If you called the Georgia police, perhaps they could help? Or maybe, you could..."

  "Why don't you leave it to me? I will follow it up."

  "What about Ethan? Does he need a lawyer?"

  Detective Logan frowned. "He hasn't asked for one."

  "Can I see him?"

  "No, he's presently being interviewed."

  "Why did you arrest him?"

  "You'll have to excuse me. I need to get back to it." He walked off before I could ask him anything else, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the lobby, gaping at his retreating back. With a huff of annoyance, I grabbed my purse and strode out.

  ~

  "He did nothing?" Leah pulled a face as she set the flatware on the table. I added drinking glasses and a jug of juice before I followed her back to the kitchen.

  "You gave him critical evidence!" said Brooke.

  "I guess Detective Logan didn't agree," I told them, "or, maybe he looked at the papers later and realized he made a huge mistake and already released him."

  I picked up the platter of crispy chicken and olives, the girls' favorite dish, and carried it to the table, both girls on my heels. Leah grabbed the plates, Brooke carried the salad. The meal looked and smelled lovely, part of our healthy eating regime -- a new year’s commitment we made together -- but I couldn't get too excited about it. I was worried about Ethan. What if Detective Logan charged him with a crime? What if he had to spend a night in a cell? I’d never seen the cells in the Calendar Police Department but I could assume from my many hours of watching crime dramas that they weren't pretty or comfortable.

  "Mr. Ray is really nice," said Leah. "He wouldn't kill anyone."

  "Maybe Lance," said Brooke. "I bet Detective Logan will have to arrest a hundred people before this case is solved!"

  "That's not nice," I chided her, although I privately agreed. To Leah, I asked, "You know Ethan Ray?"

  She nodded as she heaped salad onto her plate. "He came to careers day at school and talked about architecture. He showed us his sketch book with all his drawings and explained how he turned them into architectural plans. It was really cool."

  "He won't be designing anything if Detective Logan throws him in prison," said Brooke.

  "I don't think that's going to happen," I said, but I wasn't convinced. I lowered my eyes and concentrated on serving food on my plate before the girls saw how worried I was.

  "I bet if Lance stole books, he probably stole other things too," said Leah. "He might have double-crossed someone and they killed him as payback."

  "That's a little crime noir," I said, although I had similar thoughts.

  "I don't know what that is." Leah chewed, a thoughtful look on her face. "Do you think he was trying to steal the dagger that killed him?"

  "How do you know he was killed with a dagger?"

  Leah shrugged. "Everyone knows. Plus, even if it were a rumor, you just confirmed it."

  I laughed. I fell for it. "I don't know," I told them as they both watched me with wide, alert eyes. "The dagger comes from a set of three, which has the most value as a set. Only one was taken. Plus, separately they aren't enormously dear."

  "It was pricey enough for someone to steal," said Leah. "The killer stole it from Lance's dead body."

  "How do you know this stuff?" I asked. So much for keeping my kids innocent of the awful world out there. Apparently, they were very well informed.

  "It could have been a weapon of opportunity," said Brooke. "The killer didn't intend to murder Lance but they had to when he double-crossed them and the dagger was easily available."

  "We don't know that he double-crossed anyone."

  "We've been talking about it all day at school and that was our best guess."

  "Mom, I heard Lance was promoted, not you. Is that true?" asked Leah.

  I stopped chewing and forced myself to swallow. "Yes, that's true."

  "I don't get it. You've worked there for years!" said Brooke.

  "None of us understands it and I'm not going to try to," I told them.

  "One of the boys said that was a common motive for murder."

  I rolled my eyes. "I definitely didn't kill him."

  "Obviously," snorted Leah. "You didn't have any blood on your clothes when you came home. The killer must have had bloody hands and clothes!"

  "Did you see anyone with blood on them?" asked Brooke.

  I thought back to that night. "No, I don't think so but after Lance was discovered, everything erupted into panic. It never occurred to me to look. I guess if someone had a lot of blood on them it would have been noticeable and since I didn't notice any, maybe none of us saw the killer."

  "They could have washed it off," said Leah. "Or maybe it wouldn't show up on black eveningwear?"

  "You've been thinking about this too much," I told her, but she had a point.

  "Or they left before Lance was found," said Brooke.

  "Eat your dinner," I reminded them before their theories got any wilder and the chicken got any colder.

  "What are you going to do now, Mom?" asked Leah.

  "Have dessert," I decided. "Life is too short not to."

  The girls giggled, then Leah said, "No, I mean about the museum. It's closed and you didn't get the promotion. What happens now? Are you going to leave? Tanya told me her parents said you planned to quit."

  I rolled my eyes, again. Of course the news about my job, or the odds of losing it, would have filtered back to my daughters although I had no idea why Tanya's parents believed they had any inkling of my decisions. "Did you two do any work today or spend the whole day gossiping about the murder?" I asked.

  "Mostly gossiping," said Brooke as Leah said, "Hardly at all!"

  "Yeah!" I laughed. "Thought so."

  "But did you quit?" pressed Leah.

  "In the heat of the moment, I did say I'd rather not work with Lance or something like that, but I didn't formally quit. I'm still employed by the museum and the museum is shut temporarily. Karen and I plan to use the time to start the audit early."

  "You intend to find out if Lance stole something else, don't you?" asked Leah. She reached over to nudge her sister. "I knew it, Brookie! I said Mom would do that."

  "The audit will reveal if anything else is missing," I confirmed. Part of me wondered how I raised such smart, inquisitive and savvy daughters. They seemed to anticipate all my moves.

  "We'll help after school," said Leah, looking at Brooke for an approving nod.

  "You know auditing is boring work. It's endless box-checking."

  "But this time it might help solve a murder so we're in; plus, you always say you need more help conducting the audit. Now we're offering our services without even asking for extra allowance. Say yes!"

  "Yes," I said. "Come to the museum directly after school. Another set of eyes would be helpful but if anything is missing, you are sworn to secrecy until I inform my boss. Leah, I know you’re looking forward to your Saturday job there but I think we’ll need to step that back until this is
all resolved."

  The girls nodded and mimed zipping their mouths and if Leah was disappointed, she didn’t show it. Then I waved them to continue eating and they mimed unzipping their mouths again.

  While they cleared the table, I foraged in the freezer for ice cream, scooping chocolate into bowls and adding raspberry sauce and chocolate curls. I was right earlier; life is too short to miss dessert and even healthy eating needs balance. One day soon I might even start the meal with dessert, just for fun.

  While the girls took their ice cream bowls to the couch and put on a Netflix show, I gave the kitchen a fast clean. Grabbing my bowl, I started to join them but just as I sat on the couch, my cell phone rang and Ethan's name flashed on the screen. I dropped my bowl on the coffee table and hurried out of the room. "Are you okay?" I asked quickly.

  "Yes, I'm okay," said Ethan. Relief flooded me. "I heard you came by the station."

  "I did! Detective Logan should never have arrested you! I found some information that might help clear you."

  "Can we talk in person? I want to tell you what happened."

  "Yes, of course. When?"

  "How about now? I'm on Main Street. I could do with a stiff drink."

  I turned, mindful of the girls. Instead of being on the couch watching their show, they were both crammed into the kitchen doorway. "Go!" mouthed Brooke. Leah gave a thumbs-up.

  "I'll be there in fifteen minutes," I said.

  Chapter Eleven

  "I was never under arrest," said Ethan as we took our seats at a small table away from the bar. The noise levels were loud enough that we had to pull our chairs closer and lean across the table to talk, but not quite so bad that we had to yell at each other. There was little chance of us being overheard either.

  "Karen was so sure Detective Logan swooped in and arrested you." I tucked my hair behind my ear before it fell in a sweep over the table. I was eager to hear what Ethan had to say.