Journaled to Death

by Heather Redmond

  ‘Why?’

  ‘That George Lowry hit on me at the grocery store on Sunday. I thought he was with Linda?’ Her upper lip curled as she picked up her teacup.

  ‘Did you ask him about her?’

  ‘Rather pointedly. He had the gall to tell me they were just hooking up. Sixty years old and he suggested he could bring over a bottle of wine at dusk.’ She snorted. ‘Dusk!’

  Mandy blew steam off her tea. ‘Poor Linda. I guess George must be back from Hawaii.’

  ‘Only just. He was stocking up. Beer and sausages, that sort of thing. I’m sure he needs a woman, but she’s not me.’

  ‘More than one,’ Mandy chuckled. ‘Are you going to tell Linda? I wonder if he took another woman on his Valentine’s vacation.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Her mother looked troubled. ‘I’m not sure what to do.’

  ‘I don’t think Linda took the fling too seriously, but she was hurt about him ignoring her on Valentine’s Day.’

  ‘Then she knows he’s not serious.’ Her mother sighed. ‘If he didn’t send flowers or anything. I’ll tell her about yesterday, so she doesn’t get her hopes up again.’

  ‘You could invite her to dinner with us,’ Mandy suggested.

  Her mother nodded. ‘But not until we finish our brownies. She hasn’t brought any over for a couple of weeks and I don’t want her feelings to be hurt.’

  Linda arrived just in time for homemade chicken pot pie. ‘Ooh, Barbara, you’ve outdone yourself,’ she cooed, breathing in the heady cheese-laced sauce that was the family trademark. She set a wrapped platter on the counter.

  ‘Brownies?’ Mandy asked, feeling mischievous. She winked at her mother.

  ‘Chocolate is never wrong,’ Linda said, flattening her sweater over her hips. ‘How are you? I saw you leaving at an odd time this morning.’

  Mandy recounted her horrible week as they dished out salad, poured wine, then spooned the pot pie into their dishes.

  ‘It wasn’t all bad,’ her mother said. ‘Doctor Tristan Burrell sounds promising.’

  ‘I agree,’ Linda said. ‘Though I’ve missed the sight of that attractive Detective Ahola around here. Any news about Ryan’s death, Mandy?’

  ‘Cory,’ Mandy said, then gulped down half her wine.

  Her mother looked concerned. ‘Cory?’

  She nodded. ‘Both Vellum and Ryan’s hospital supervisor said there were issues between Ryan and Cory. They never saw eye to eye, but I didn’t think anything of it. It was rare for Ryan to get along with functional people.’

  Her mother snorted. ‘Of course there was tension. Ryan replaced Cory in many ways. And Cory’s immature enough to have a problem with that.’

  ‘Only because I couldn’t pay my mortgage, thanks to Cory.’

  ‘Cory is one of those people who, despite the evidence, have things done to him rather than by him,’ her mother opined. ‘I wouldn’t call him functional now.’

  ‘He’s just trying to hurt me by not working.’ Mandy changed the subject. ‘I saw Detective Ahola today. He was awfully nice, and managed to tell me that Cory’s mother claims Cory was with her at the time of Ryan’s death, though he isn’t supposed to tell me anything.’

  ‘Elaine Moffat,’ her mother muttered, nose wrinkling as if she’d just smelled a stinky cheese. ‘Not really a liar, for all her faults.’

  ‘Not that bright,’ Mandy agreed.

  ‘Which means Cory could have fooled her,’ Linda added. ‘Claimed he was in the bathroom or something when he’d actually sneaked out.’

  Mandy turned to her. ‘You want Vellum’s father to have killed my cousin?’

  ‘Not on purpose,’ Linda said slowly.

  ‘Someone bashed him on the head with a hammer.’ Mandy picked up the wine bottle and emptied it into her glass. ‘You want that person to have been my ex-husband?’

  Linda shuddered. ‘You need something nicer to think of. A man, perhaps. Sex? With this Burrell, or even the detective?’

  ‘They are both very attractive.’ Mandy sighed. ‘But look at what happened the last time a doctor asked me out. And if Detective Ahola moves in he’ll be my housemate. Awkward.’

  ‘Not with Vellum out of the house.’ Linda winced at Barbara’s glare. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I advise against dating right now,’ her mother said, picking up Mandy’s full glass and neatly dumping a third of it into her own. ‘You need to focus on talking Vellum into coming back home and securing a new tenant, in that order.’

  Mandy needed to reconsider her friendships as well. Why was Linda being so cold about Cory? Had she always disliked him, or was something else going on?

  Mandy arrived at the coffee bar at nine-thirty the next morning for her shift. Kit had the earlier shift and Mandy saw her at the counter as she walked by. Her bruises had faded, but she hadn’t been at work on Monday. Still, her reappearance proved she’d had nothing to do with the Adderall drama of the week before.

  Mandy dropped off her personal possessions, then clocked in. When she poked her head into the counter area to see what she was supposed to do next, she saw Scott on his knees, his hand over his heart.

  Was he OK?

  Nervously, she asked, ‘What’s going on?’

  Scott grunted and Kit stepped away from him, alarm in her shaded eyes. Mandy saw no sign of Fannah anywhere. Probably on her morning break. She edged through the door and grabbed for the phone. ‘I’ll call for help.’

  NINETEEN

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kit asked, frowning at Mandy.

  ‘Screwdriver?’ Scott asked, his hand reaching out.

  Kit raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Oh.’ Mandy blushed. ‘The way your hand was on your chest, I thought something terrible was going on.’ She realized she was standing next to an open toolbox, balanced on the rear counter next to the microwave. ‘Umm, flat head?’

  ‘That’ll do.’

  Mandy selected a medium-sized one from the molded plastic tray set inside the open toolbox and handed it to Scott, who grunted again when he shifted. ‘You sound like you’re hurting.’

  ‘Two of my guys called out sick today so I have to do the minor repairs.’

  ‘The shelf underneath was wobbly,’ Kit said.

  ‘I didn’t notice it,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Fannah complained that a notepad slid out and dropped on her foot.’

  ‘Huh.’ Mandy took a deep breath and tried to release the adrenaline that had coursed through her system. ‘I thought he was having a heart attack or something.’

  ‘Just overdid it this weekend, Mandy,’ Scott said, hauling himself up. ‘I don’t have teenaged knees anymore.’

  ‘Too many dates?’ she asked.

  He frowned, then cut his eyes to the counter. Dr Garcia was heading toward them, followed by a row of duckling-like residents.

  Mandy handed him his toolbox and followed him into the back room, knowing she only had a second. ‘Alexis Ivanova? Don’t you have better taste than that?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said as he dropped in his screwdriver and closed his toolbox.

  ‘I saw you with her last night. She dated Ryan, you know.’

  He blinked at her.

  ‘Fine. What about our security camera?’ she pressed.

  ‘They’re out of parts in Hong Kong and it’s going to be a while due to the component shortage.’

  ‘Did you tell that to Fannah?’

  ‘We don’t talk,’ he said. ‘Back off, Mandy. I’m having a bad enough day without you chattering at me.’ He snapped his thumb and forefinger together several times, imitating a talking mouth.

  She wanted to tell him off, but Fannah came through the back door and she didn’t want to be written up for rude behavior.

  ‘Gotta go,’ Scott said, and pushed past Fannah.

  ‘What was that about?’ she asked, looking disgusted as the door shut behind him.

  ‘He was fixing the wobbly shelf that bothered you.’ At Fannah�
�s look of confusion, Mandy added, ‘Under the cash register? You know, the junk shelf?’

  The backroom phone rang. ‘Whatever,’ Fannah said, reaching for it. ‘Get back to work.’

  Mandy went home to her empty house after work. No Vellum, no Vellum’s music, no dishes in the sink, no laundry to sort. It was suddenly as if she had unlimited time to do her second job. But it wasn’t the same without Vellum.

  They had cleared the online shop orders over the weekend. She fulfilled the orders that had come in during the past forty-eight hours, then went into her art studio.

  When she turned on the light, she felt as if she’d entered a meditative space. Rain dropped steadily on the roof, creating a background melody. The bright white paint woke up her eyes, and the sight of her boxes of art supplies, lined up around a pristine cream-colored workspace, created a blank canvas sure to please any artist.

  She flipped her planner to her collection of ideas for future projects. Nothing excited or stimulated her. One of the big events in a vlogger’s planner year was finishing one journal and starting another. She usually fit about six months in her journals, which meant she was a long way away from starting another one. Still, she found herself flipping through January and February, and saw the murder spread she’d created.

  As she studied the names, she compared them to Ryan himself, in the center of the page. Ryan Meadows. Age forty-two. Single. No kids. Janitor. Alcoholic.

  Would Linda, at fifty-seven, have had a fling with him before George? She hadn’t liked how Linda had commented on Cory at dinner last night. Steeling herself, she grabbed her phone and dashed off a quick text to Linda and asked about her remarks at dinner. She had to solve this if she ever wanted Vellum to move back home.

  Given the recent comments, she added Cory to the family list, writing ex-cousin-in-law to represent his relationship to Ryan. She didn’t like it, but he belonged there.

  Her eyes moved down the lovers list. First Dylan, who she hadn’t seen for days. But she knew Linda had spoken to Dylan and Alexis on occasion. Was there more to that story?

  And Alexis. Alexis was dating Scott. Mandy moved her finger to the co-worker list on the left side of the page. She’d never written down Scott’s name at all. After she wrote it in a bubble, she added the word ‘boss’ and considered his similarities to Ryan. Maybe Alexis had a type.

  A rapping noise scattered her attention. She lifted her head from her journal page, then heard the noise again. Someone was at the back door.

  That made her realize how stupid she’d been. What if Linda was Ryan’s killer? And her text had lured her here?

  Mandy shut her eyes tightly. Linda. Could she really visualize her brownie-loving friend hitting Ryan on the head with a hammer? Why? Even if she had been with Ryan, she’d moved on to George Lowry. And he wasn’t dead.

  She pushed herself back from her desk, stuck a pair of scissors into her pocket, and set her phone to make an emergency call easily. Then she went to the back door, where, as predicted, Linda stood in the rain.

  Mandy opened the door, leaving the screen closed. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘What’s up?’ Linda echoed, water dripping down her face.

  ‘Where is your umbrella? Or at least a hat.’

  ‘I don’t even own an umbrella. This is Seattle,’ Linda scoffed. ‘Are you going to let me in?’

  ‘Why did you want Cory to be Ryan’s killer?’ Mandy countered.

  ‘Because he’s a jerk,’ Linda growled. ‘He hurt my friend.’

  Mandy teared up. Her hand shaking, she unlocked the door. Linda grabbed her, pulling her into a showery hug.

  ‘Please tell me you don’t still have feelings for that louse,’ she said into Mandy’s ear.

  ‘It’s just that he’s Vellum’s father.’

  ‘I know, honey, I know.’ Linda pulled back and looked her right in the eye. ‘I did not sleep with Ryan. I did not kill Ryan. We need to figure out who really did before you lose your mind.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘What about Reese?’

  Linda rolled her eyes. ‘That persnickety child did not sleep with Ryan either. Can you imagine?’

  ‘She offered to buy my business.’

  ‘Because she wants to be you,’ Linda said. ‘She had nothing to do with Ryan. It makes no sense.’

  ‘OK.’ Mandy paced the kitchen floor. ‘Here’s one big new thing.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Linda grabbed a dishtowel and wrung out her hair.

  ‘Alexis knows Scott. Ryan’s boss? I saw him picking her up at the hospital. And he was in a car that probably cost a ton of money.’

  ‘More than he makes?’

  ‘Yeah, and he’s one-year divorced with kids. He should be living in a ratty apartment and driving something old and crappy.’

  Linda looked at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. ‘Something is off.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘Now what?’

  Linda worried her lower lip. ‘Could we search his office or something?’

  ‘Something,’ Mandy echoed. She paced again, then brightened. ‘Something strange was going on with Kit and Scott at work today. Scott was fixing a shelf in the coffee bar and Kit lied about it. Or Fannah did.’

  Linda balled up the wet towel. ‘One suspicion at a time. Let’s focus on Scott.’

  Mandy took the towel and dropped it into the sink. ‘Should I get a look at that shelf?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Now,’ Mandy said. ‘The coffee bar closes at six. I closed today, in fact. The lights are turned off but it isn’t really dark. One little pen light would do.’

  ‘It isn’t really dangerous because it’s a hospital. There are always people around.’ Linda lifted her eyebrows.

  ‘Right,’ Mandy agreed. ‘I’ll get a flashlight.’

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Linda said. She glanced at her watch. ‘Then we can go out for dessert. I heard about a cupcake place on Pike that’s open until ten.’

  ‘Solve a murder, eat a cupcake,’ Mandy said. ‘Easy peasy.’

  ‘We’ll deserve a reward.’ Linda felt her hair. ‘Can I borrow a decent rain jacket?’

  ‘Here goes nothing,’ Mandy said, as she and Linda went down the escalator to the USea coffee bar area from the parking garage.

  Linda squeezed her arm. ‘I do enjoy being your partner in crime.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be spooked.’ Mandy stepped off the escalator. ‘I was just here a few hours ago.’

  ‘It’s pitch-dark outside,’ Linda pointed out.

  ‘It was when I left, too. The joy of February. It is staying light longer, though.’

  Linda stopped in front of the coffee bar. ‘Do you know that I’ve never been here?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘It feels kind of famous to me. Like a movie set or something.’

  ‘It doesn’t really come to life until the lights are on. Your ex-husband never worked here?’

  Linda shook her head. ‘No. He’s always been at Swedish Hospital since we lived in Seattle. There was a time when hospitals were no big deal to me, but it’s been a few years.’

  ‘I honestly kind of like it,’ Mandy said. ‘Even with an at-home business, it’s nice to get out to talk to people.’

  ‘It must be like watching a soap opera at times.’

  Mandy nodded. ‘Or lately, we’ve been the soap opera.’

  ‘I can just imagine Doctor O’Hottie strutting up for a quad shot,’ Linda said dreamily, her gloved finger trailing through the air.

  Mandy snorted. ‘He didn’t turn out to be such a figure of fantasy after all.’

  ‘OK then.’ Linda struck a pose. ‘Doctor Tristan, hands over his heart as he asks you out.’

  Mandy giggled. ‘No, no, it’s Doctor Burrell. Tristan is his first name.’

  ‘He’ll always be Doctor Tristan to me,’ Linda said in a wistful tone.

  ‘OK, crazy lady, let’s get on with this before Security gets concerned.’ She led Linda behind the counter. ‘Let’s crouch down here.
’

  ‘This is where the wobbly shelf is?’

  Mandy lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Yep.’

  Linda wrapped her fingers around the edge of the shelf. ‘It isn’t wobbling now. I guess he fixed it.’

  Mandy reached for a tray, stacked on its side in a crack between the counter units. They kept a few from the cafeteria for larger orders. She started pulling out notepaper and pens and set them on the tray. When she reached in again, she found a few sandwich baggies and – gross! – a used tissue. Next was a stack of napkins.

  ‘Not an exciting haul,’ Linda observed. ‘Good thing we don’t have our own reality show.’

  ‘Ha,’ Mandy said. ‘Going in.’ Her fingers reached around. She swept out a pile of crumbs. ‘Hand me that garbage can.’

  Linda picked up the small plastic basket and Mandy slid the crumbs into it. ‘Is that it?’

  Mandy pulled the flashlight out of her pocket and turned it on. She moved into a kneeling position and peered into the shelf.

  ‘It’s pretty deep,’ Linda said.

  ‘Yeah. I do see more stuff far back. Let’s see if my arm is skinny enough to reach all the way.’ Mandy handed the flashlight to Linda and maneuvered herself so her arm could go underneath the counter. ‘Oooh, awkward.’

  ‘Feeling anything?’

  Mandy rotated her shoulder and spread out her fingers. ‘Oh yeah. A whole set of round things.’ She swept them together, then rolled them out as she pulled her arm back.

  ‘Coin rolls,’ Linda exclaimed as they dropped into the tray. ‘Shouldn’t they be in the cash register?’

  ‘Maybe they didn’t fit one day and someone stuck them there,’ Mandy said. ‘Oh, crap.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I bet this is the missing money! They didn’t get into the drawer, or fell out of it, and then Kit and I had to pay the money back. How much is in a quarter roll?’

  ‘Umm,’ Linda said, her eyes moving back and forth as she calculated. ‘Ten bucks.’

  ‘Huh.’ Mandy stared at them. ‘Four rolls. This is forty bucks.’

  ‘Then unless you have some sort of regular problem, the missing money doesn’t add up.’

  ‘No.’ Mandy poked at the roll. ‘Hey, wait a minute. This isn’t stuffed with quarters. Something a little smaller is in here.’