Stirring Up Murder

by P. D. Workman

  He blinked his eyes one at a time. Slowly, as if mocking her. The next time his tongue shot out, she was expecting it. And another cricket was gone. She waited for him to eat more, but he didn’t, he just stayed there clinging to the branch, rolling his eyes around in different directions. The only other movement in the cage came from the crickets, wandering around aimlessly, apparently unaware of the predator that lurked above them.

  Erin looked at the thermometer and hygrometer to make sure they were within the limits that Olivia had recommended. The dripper and heater were doing their jobs.

  “Your mom will be back in a day or two,” Erin promised Iggy. “Just as soon as she can get out.”

  He didn’t respond to her voice.

  In spite of how interesting the reptarium environment and the lizard were, her eyes started to wander around the study, taking in other things.

  She didn’t mean to snoop. That wasn’t why she was there. She was just there to take care of Iggy, but she thought maybe she should have a look around to make sure everything else was in order as well. She was there and she was the only one with a key, so she was the only one who could make sure that everything was as it should be while Charley was away.

  There was a writing desk on one side of the room, the chair between the desk and the wall so that when Charley sat down to use it, she would be facing the chameleon’s environment and be able to watch him. Erin thought about the way that Orange Blossom would come up to her little attic hideaway while she was at her writing desk or reading nook, wanting to know why she was being so quiet and why she didn’t want to play. It seemed a little sad to have only a lizard, who couldn’t do that, but who just crawled along branches flicking out his tongue at insects. But maybe it was different for Charley. Maybe she felt a connection with him even though he did look like something from another planet. Maybe she was allergic to animal dander, or had grown up with parents who were allergic, so she hadn’t been able to have a warm-blooded pet that would be more responsive to her.

  Erin looked at the neat, tidy desk. What did Charley write there? Letters? A journal? It had a warm feeling and Erin couldn’t imagine Charley conducting gang activities from there, writing orders for other clan members or keeping a double set of books. What was Charley’s role in the clan? Did she have a specific function? Was it a well-organized group, or did the members just have casual roles? Erin could picture herself sitting there writing out recipes or making her lists for the next day. It was well-lit and tidy, with all of the writing materials and supplies she would need close at hand.

  No laptop. Did that mean the police had taken Charley’s computer or that she didn’t keep one? Or maybe it was in another room. She might watch DVDs or a subscription service before bed and have a laptop in her bedroom.

  Erin made sure that she had properly latched the lizard enclosure and left the study. After a few seconds of hesitation, she went to the fridge. She wasn’t snooping. She was there to help her sister out. Charley hadn’t said anything about Erin taking care of anything else, but she had been worried about her pet and the conversation had been cut short by impatient jail staff. She hadn’t had a chance to ask Erin to do anything else while she was at the apartment. But Erin was there, and she might as well check on other things that she could be reasonably expected to do.

  She opened the fridge, expecting to find nothing but old takeout containers and half-empty bottles of condiments. But it wasn’t empty and there wasn’t a takeout container in sight. Not even a frozen dinner or deli package. Everything seemed to be home cooked.

  Erin took out a small carton of milk and, after checking the expiry date, poured it down the sink drain. She poked through the produce and the cooked dishes in covered glass bowls, adding a few things to the green compost bin under the sink. She noticed that the garbage can was empty, and that gave her pause. Charley hadn’t had a chance to empty the garbage when she had been arrested. Had she emptied it before then, earlier in the day? There was no garbage pick-up schedule on the fridge that would give an indication of whether it would have been normal for Charley to have taken out the garbage that day.

  It occurred to Erin that she hadn’t eaten supper or made any plans to. She’d been focused on Iggy’s needs and hadn’t even thought of her own. Should she go out to a fast-food joint before heading home, or would Charley mind if she helped herself to some of the food in the fridge before it started to go bad?

  In a few minutes, Erin had a small plate of food warming in the microwave and pulled out her phone to check for any new voicemails, texts, or social media messages.

  Charley was a surprisingly good cook. She’d missed her calling in choosing to be a mobster. She should have gone into the food services industry. Erin thought back to helping in Clementine’s tea room. Maybe it ran in the family. Maybe it was one of those inexplicable family traits. An interest in food services. A talent for food preparation. Erin had always found it comforting to make food and had enjoyed making other people happy or more at ease by making them food. It wasn’t just Carolyn’s death that had prompted her interest in cooking for others. It had spurred an interest in gluten-free and cooking for other special diets, but years before that, she had spent happy hours as a child helping Clementine in the tea room. She could remember playing with child-sized dishes when she was little, pretending to serve her mother and being frustrated that she wasn’t allowed to be involved in the cooking of real meals. She knew she could do better than her mother, who seemed to struggle with even the basic heating of prepared meals.

  She washed up and put away the dishes she had used. The kitchen was well-stocked and everything seemed to be in its logical place. Erin picked up the small compost bin and poked around in the corridors of the building until she found a room with a trash chute and a larger green bin smelling of rot that she emptied the small bin into.

  Erin looked at her watch. She had saved some time by eating at Charley’s instead of having to find a restaurant or fast-food place. She could spend a few more minutes making sure that everything had been properly taken care of in the apartment before heading home, and she’d still have time to work on her lists for the next day before bed. She found that thought comforting.

  There was a little more mess in Charley’s bedroom than in the rest of the apartment. Evening clothes draped over the back of a chair instead of hung up. Makeup strewn over the top of a dressing table with a mirror. The bed had been made, but Charley had certainly not been drilled in making hospital corners or a military-tight bunk.

  Erin sat on the edge of the bed and looked around.

  Was Charley really a wild child? A mobster? Nothing in her rooms seemed to indicate anything other than a normal, everyday existence. She could have easily been an office or retail worker, restaurant cook or hostess. But a career criminal? Her apartment was nothing like what Erin would have expected from a mobster or a mobster’s girlfriend. But then, what did she actually know about what a mobster’s room would look like? If she was to go from TV, it could range from a rat-infested flop house to a sumptuous mansion a king would envy. What exactly did a Tennessee organized crime clan look like?

  There was little to indicate that Charley had had a boyfriend. There was a picture of her with a young man on the bedside table, but there wasn’t a lot of jewelry, wilting flowers, or other romantic keepsakes that Erin could see. A quick glance through her closet and drawers did not turn up any men’s overnight gear. Not even a toothbrush or change of underwear. How serious could they be if he wasn’t even sleeping over occasionally?

  Erin’s face flushed warmly even though there was no one there to see her embarrassment. Who was she to be making judgments over how serious Charley’s relationship with Bobby was? It wasn’t like Terry was spending nights at her house either. There was plenty of room for another person in the family-sized house, especially now that Vic had her own place over the garage. But she and Terry had kept their lives separate and had not taken that step. They were moving slowly, content
, for the most part, to spend time together as friends and not to do anything that would have caused tongues to wag among the Bald Eagle Falls gossips.

  Chapter Thirteen

  E

  rin texted Vic that she was on her way home. When she arrived, she parked her car in the new garage. As she walked across the yard, Vic stuck her head out the door at the top of the stairs that climbed the outside of the garage to her loft apartment.

  “Hey, Erin. Everything go okay?”

  “Yes, Iggy was fine and has enough bugs for the next few days.”

  “And he didn’t gross you out?” Vic grinned. She was far less squeamish than Erin, having grown up farming, hunting, and fishing. Critters didn’t bother her.

  “No, he’s pretty weird looking, but at least he wasn’t slimy.”

  “Did he change color for you?”

  “No. Just green while I was there.”

  Vic nodded. “Okay. Well, have a good night.” She started to pull her head back.

  “You got company?” Erin asked. Vic usually came over for a few minutes before bed if she was by herself. But if Willie was over, she didn’t.

  Vic gave her a grin. “Yes, Miss Nosy Parker. Willie’s here.”

  “Hi, Erin.” Willie’s voice drifted out from behind Vic.

  Erin smiled and gave a little wave. “Hi and good night to both of you. I’m going to have a bath and head to bed.”

  “And make lists,” Vic added.

  “And make lists,” Erin admitted.

  Vic withdrew and Erin went into Clementine’s house through the back door.

  She had bathed and was in her pink flannel jammies when she heard voices coming from outside. Not Vic and Willie out for a moonlight stroll, but shouts and jeers.

  Erin hurried to the kitchen, nearly tripping over Orange Blossom, and peered out the window. She caught sight of a few dark shapes flitting across the yard, and then they were out of view of the kitchen window. Erin opened the back door. Willie was coming down the stairs of the garage apartment at a run.

  “Willie? What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “Stay inside, Erin. Call Terry.”

  “But what—”

  “Stay inside.”

  Erin closed the door and locked it. She couldn’t see what he was doing through the little arched window high in the door, and when she went back to the kitchen window, it was just in time to see him step out of view. Erin swallowed and concentrated on doing what Willie had said. She dragged her phone out and hit the speed dial for Officer Terry Piper.

  “Piper. Oh, hi, Erin.”

  “Terry, something is wrong. I don’t know what’s going on. There were people in the back yard. And then Willie came out, and he said to call you.”

  “There was someone in your back yard?”

  “More than one. I saw at least three.”

  “Stay inside.”

  “Willie already told me to. I locked the door. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know yet. Did he lock the apartment door?”

  “No, I think he went after them. He was outside…”

  “Of course he did,” Terry grumbled. “Okay, stay put, I’ll be there in a shake.”

  He must have put a call out to the rest of the police department, because Tom Banks pulled up in front of the house at almost the same time as Terry pulled in behind the garage. Both got out and took a look around the yard. Erin saw Willie join them. When they walked toward the back door, Erin opened it and stepped out to meet them.

  “What is it? What happened?”

  “It’s nothing,” Terry said, “just a little vandalism.” He gestured toward the garage and walked with Erin toward it.

  “Heard car doors slam,” Willie growled. “Didn’t even see the car before they were gone.”

  Even with the security lights turned on, Erin couldn’t see the mess of the raw eggs until she got up close to it.

  “If you’ve got a pressure washer, we should clean it off before it dries. Even just a garden hose…” Terry suggested.

  Erin felt distant and removed from the situation as she went into the garage and got the little pressure washer she had picked up at a Black Friday sale after Thanksgiving. Terry took it from her and set it up outside the garage. His eyes flicked over her.

  “You’re going to catch a chill. Go put on a coat.”

  Erin looked at her pink pajamas. She had slipped sandals on her bare feet. “I’m fine.”

  K9 snuffled around and made an irritated huff when he sat down, disappointed at the lack of excitement. Tom was taking pictures of the vandalism. When he finished, he nodded at Terry. Terry aimed a stream of water at the mess and washed it off. Vic stood at the top of the stairs until he was done, then joined them.

  “Who was it?” Erin asked Willie. “Why would anyone do something like this?”

  Everyone was silent, looking at each other but not answering. Willie cleared his throat.

  “They were shouting slurs,” he said. He indicated Vic with his eyes, and Erin understood without his saying anything more that it was prejudice about Vic’s gender identity. “I didn’t see them clearly enough to identify who it was. Young people. Probably out drinking. Bored. Looking for trouble.”

  Erin shook her head. She looked at Terry. “Do you know who would do something like this?”

  “Sure, I know a number of people who would do something like this. But I don’t have any evidence of who it was. You don’t have any security cameras, do you?”

  “No.”

  Maybe Erin should have anticipated it. Vic hadn’t exactly been welcomed with open arms by everyone in Bald Eagle Falls. Erin had already had rocks thrown through the window and an attempt to burn her house to the ground. It shouldn’t have taken so long for her to figure out that she might benefit from a few security cameras.

  “It’s okay,” Vic said. Her face was pale. “It doesn’t matter who it was. It was bound to happen sooner or later. If we react to it, it will just get worse.”

  Erin scowled. She hated for Vic to think that it was acceptable. People might not choose to like or be friendly with Vic, and that was their right. No one was universally liked. But it wasn’t okay for them to yell slurs and vandalize her home.

  “I’ll get cameras this weekend,” she promised. “The guys can help install them, right?” She looked at Terry and Willie for confirmation.

  “I can install cameras,” Vic said with an offhanded shrug. “I just don’t think… well, it’s not like they tried to hurt me. If we overreact, they’ll just think I’m a good target.”

  “Installing cameras isn’t overreacting,” Erin said firmly. “I’m worried about security. If these guys come back again, I want to be ready.”

  “If you want to upgrade your security, you can do a few other things,” Tom said. “Put the security lights on a motion sensor. Put alarms on your doors and windows and keep it armed at night or when you’re not home. You two ladies both live alone…”

  Even though they were on the property and always in and out of the house, they did live separately. If someone broke into Vic’s loft apartment in the middle of the night, or into the main house, the other would never know it.

  Erin nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. I should probably get something over at Adele’s in the cottage as well. She’s even more remote than we are.”

  “She’s not going to like that,” Vic said.

  “No, probably not. But I wouldn’t want anything happening to her, either. People might not realize that she’s… you know what… but she’s still isolated, and kids might not like the fact that she’s taken over their old hangout and keeping an eye on things out there.”

  Vic sighed. She rubbed her bare arms. “I just hate that we have to change anything because of people like this.”

  “I know,” Erin agreed. She thought about Charley living alone as well. With her enemies, why hadn’t there been security measures at her apartment? Erin hadn’t even needed to be buzzed in at the lobby door
, and there was only a single lock on the apartment door. Was Charley so sure of her position in the Dyson clan that she had no fear of anyone breaking in when she was away or when she was home alone?

  “You can file your reports in the morning,” Terry said. “You ladies need to be up early, so you’d better get off to bed.”

  Erin yawned, but at the same time, felt wide awake. Her brain was going to take a long time to settle down. “I don’t know if I can. Are you on call tonight?”

  Terry shook his head. “I’m off. Tom’s on. But you can still call me if something happens. You never use the dispatch line anyway.” He smiled, showing that this was not something that bothered him. Just a statement of fact.

  “Okay.” Erin hesitated, then gave him a brief hug. The various badges and equipment on his uniform poked uncomfortably into her, but she ignored it. “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He gave her an extra squeeze and let go. K9 whined, looking at Terry.

  “We’ll do one patrol around the house and yard and then we have to go,” Terry told him. “If there’s anything to find, you’d better find it.”

  He gave K9 a hand signal and let him lead the way. K9 smelled the remains of the smashed eggs on the ground and started to cast around for a scent trail. Erin knew that the perpetrators had escaped in their vehicle, so K9’s search was unlikely to turn up anything of interest. Terry knew that too, but K9 wanted to do his job, and it was always possible that one of the young people had dropped something in the dark. A set of keys or a wallet with identification would be nice. Erin watched them for a few minutes, then waved at Terry.

  “Night, Vicky. You be okay? Do you want to come sleep in the guest room tonight?”

  Vic looked at Willie. “I think… are you going to stay?”

  Willie nodded. “I don’t like to leave you alone after this. I’ll hang out tonight and make sure nothing else happens.”

  “Good.” Erin nodded. “Thanks.”

  “What about you? Are you going to be okay alone?”