The doorbell rang.
“That’s DC. He called to see if it was too late to visit. I said it was okay. I was sure Robert would be leaving soon,” Mom said and answered the door.
“Who’s DC?” Robert asked.
“None of your business,” I said.
“Just sign the damn papers,” he said, his voice getting loud.
“Is there a problem here?” DC asked, his hand close to his waist.
“This is between my wife and me, pal,” Robert said.
DC shot me a look. Mom had implied that I was a widow. It was a joke she liked to make.
“He’s leaving,” I said, turning to DC with a smile.
“Not until you sign those papers,” my ex insisted.
“No, it’s time for you to go,” DC said, pulling out his badge.
Robert took one look at the badge, mumbled that he’d be in touch, and left.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Mom said.
“I can’t stay long; I just wanted to run something by you about Rick Heller.” DC glanced over to me. He looked a little hurt.
“He wanted me to sign the divorce papers without letting a lawyer look at them first,” I said.
“It’s none of my business,” DC said, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore.
“You wanted to talk about Rick Heller’s tox screen, right?” Mom said.
“How did you know?” he asked.
Mom smiled.
“Still, it was most likely just an accident,” DC said.
Mom smiled and headed to the kitchen, knowing we’d follow her and said, “Falling out the window was an accident, but Rick Heller was definitely murdered.”
“I’m so glad you’re all enjoying yourselves,” Mom said, standing up at the front of the office and gaining the attention of the Turing Tech staff. The police had allowed the company to move back into their offices a few weeks ago, and having finally had the time to settle in, the office looked much more organized and professional. We’d set up four long rows of tableclothed tables for the employees to enjoy their lunch.
Mom continued as everyone took their seats. “Barbara has not only agreed to catered lunches the last Friday of every month, but she also has a special announcement for you. Let’s give her a hand!”
I came from behind the food table to take a seat, ignoring the way my stomach churned with a combination of butterflies and anxiety. For one thing, Mom wanted to trick the killer into confessing here at the party. And then there was the proximity of one handsome detective. DC had agreed to come “undercover” along with Wenling.
The applause died down, and Barbara smiled. “I’m sure most of that applause was for the food,” Barbara said. Everyone laughed. “Now some of you know that we lost Rick Heller in a tragic accident a month ago, just after he and I had been fighting. I’m sure you all have read that I’d been arrested for his murder, but as of today the charges have been officially dropped.”
The employees applauded.
“I know that applause is mostly for your paychecks,” Barbara joked again. “What you didn’t know is what Rick and I were fighting about.”
Mom had taken a seat next to Barbara so she was facing the employees and watching their reaction. The group had grown quiet, and most of the people sat forward in their seats, listening.
“Someone on our staff had been leaking our development plans to our competitors,” Barbara said. Several employees let out audible gasps. “I’ve gotten some help,” Barbara motioned to DC, “to help me track down the leak and we’ve found out who it is. We’re just going to talk to a few of you to confirm our findings and get your input on how to avoid this in the future.”
I turned to Mom. Barbara kept talking as if Rick Heller wasn’t the one leaking information. “On a more positive note, our new CTO, Kevin Huber, will be starting on Monday, and all of our vendor contracts are secure.” She spoke more about their big client, who I can’t name here, doubling their order of the company’s first software package.
The employees applauded, and Mom got up and beelined it over to DC and me.
“Follow me,” she said to DC as she walked over to the table where Tina, Madison, and Henry were all sitting.
“Hey guys,” Mom said. “Detective Cooper wanted to ask you some questions.”
“What’s this about a traitor selling us out?” Henry asked.
“You can’t even think it was me,” Madison said, getting ready to stand up.
“No, but you’ll want to stay,” Mom said.
Madison shot Mom a questioning look but remained in her seat.
“We think that Ivan is the mole,” Mom said.
“Ivan! That’s impossible,” Tina said. “How do you know it wasn’t Rick?”
“Because a competitor got some fake news we leaked just last week,” Mom said.
“Why are you talking and not the cop?” Henry asked.
Mom ignored the question.
“That’s impossible,” Tina repeated.
“What makes you say that?” DC asked Tina.
“It had to be Rick,” Tina said. “I thought I overheard him once.”
“Then why not tell Barbara?” Mom asked.
“Rick said she’d never believe me,” Tina said.
“Because it wasn’t him,” Mom insisted. “It was Ivan.”
Tina began to tremble. “He acted like he did it, and he’d get away with it. Why would he do that if it wasn’t him?”
“He was power tripping,” Henry said. “Don’t worry about it. He’s gone now.”
Madison turned to DC. “Are you here to find out if any of us had information to help you with Ivan? Because I don’t. So can I go?”
“No,” DC said.
Tears streamed down Tina’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asked.
“Nothing,” Tina said.
“You feel guilty about something, don’t you?” Mom asked.
Tina’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Because you killed Rick Heller,” Mom said, her voice loud, but not yelling. Everyone’s eyes turned to Tina. “And Rick wasn’t even the mole. You killed him for no reason.”
“He fell out of the window drunk,” she said. “It was an accident.”
“The falling out of the window was an accident, but the tox screen showed he had sleeping pills in his system.”
“So he took pills,” Tina said.
“But there was not one pill capsule found in his stomach during the autopsy. All they found was half of your sandwich. He threw the rest in the trash, because all of the pills mixed with the chili mayo made it taste bad.”
“I just wanted to punish him for stealing my lunch,” Tina said.
“And for selling secrets,” Mom said.
“No,” Tina said.
“He’d eaten your sandwich and the pills were slowly taking effect, combined with his two apple margaritas. He was so stressed from his fight with Barbara he needed a cigarette. But he didn’t want anyone to know he’d started smoking again. So he put on a disposable raincoat so the smell wouldn’t get on his clothes, and used Henry’s screwdriver to tamper with the window safety. The drugs and drink made him tipsy, and he dropped the screwdriver out of the window. The police have that evidence. Then he lit his cigarette, but was too inebriated to keep the smoke outside and set off the smoke alarm again.”
“I knew he was the one setting off the alarm,” Henry said.
Mom continued, “And then when he stood up after his cigarette, the drugs and cocktail made him lose his balance and fall out the window.”
“It was an accident!” Tina protested.
“His tox screen shows an overdose level of sleeping pills, Tina, and he only ate half the sandwich. You had to know that it would kill him. And he died just like you wanted. Even though he wasn’t the one selling the company out.”
“I thought he was trying to ruin this company! Barbara gave me stock options! Me, an admin worker! She treated me like I wa
s valuable. Like I was somebody! And he was trying to take it all away!” Tina collapsed onto the table and cried into her hands. “No one but Barbara ever believed in me, because I’m a screwup. I didn’t even kill the right person!”
Tina’s heartbreaking sniffles echoed in the silence of the room. Mom came around the table and stroked Tina’s blonde hair. “No, you killed the right person,” Mom said.
Tina sniffed and pulled her head off the table to look at Mom. “But you said—”
“I needed you to confess, Tina. It’s better for you to admit what you did so you can get better,” Mom said.
Tina’s expression looked sad and hopeless. Mom kneeled down and put her arm around Tina’s small shoulders. “At least you killed the person you wanted to.” Tina perked up. “And you almost got away with it, which was very clever. Morally wrong, but clever.”
“Clever? Do you really think I was clever?” she asked, clinging to Mom’s compliment for hope.
Mom paused. I could tell from Mom’s face and the face of everyone in the office that Tina was a highly unstable young woman.
“Sure,” Mom acquiesced, and motioned with her head for DC to quickly come over to Tina.
Detective Cooper arrested Tina, but before he left he stopped to talk to Mom. “Jo, who leaked the autopsy report to you? I didn’t see the actual report. Could they really tell it was half a sandwich?”
“No autopsy. I just peeked into his trash can that day,” Mom said, not bringing up that she’d done it after the crime scene was blocked off,.
“And the lack of pill capsules?” he asked.
Mom shrugged her shoulders. “I just keep talking until it all works out.”
DC took Tina downstairs, and Wenling broke the awkward hush in the office. “That was amazing!” she beamed. “Wasn’t that incredible?” she asked an unsuspecting employee nearby.
“Uh, yeah,” he said.
“And thank you to Ivan, who hasn’t leaked any information. He just agreed to help,” Mom said.
I looked over to Ivan staring up from his mound of receipts, his expression half-frightened, half-stunned. Barbara announced everyone could leave for the day, which lessened the post-murder confession weirdness.
“I’ll come by the Lucky Dragon and thank you in person,” she said, slipping Mom a check. “I’m spent.”
Madison volunteered to stay late and lock up for Barbara. She went to her office, leaving the door open so we could let her know when we were ready to leave.
The employees trickled out as Wenling, Mom, and I packed up the leftovers and equipment. Wenling hummed as she worked. She loved being part of the big reveal, and her enthusiasm spread to the rest of us.
“I’ll come help you with next month’s lunch here, too. It’s so exciting,” she said.
“It’s not like someone is going to fall out of a window or confess to being a killer every time we’re here,” Mom said.
“You never know,” Wenling said as she folded the last of the tablecloths and pushed them into the oversized duffel we used to carry them.
Mom called out to Madison that we were ready to go. Madison walked over to us.
“I’m going to stay a little later,” she said, “but I wanted to ask you something, Jo.”
“Sure,” Mom said, “but let me ask you something first. Did you see when Barbara left Rick’s office that day?”
Madison let out a deep breath. “It was right after the alarm. Now let me ask you. You said that I’d want to hear all that stuff about what happened to Rick. Why?”
“I just thought you’d want to know that it didn’t happen because you dumped him.”
Madison nodded and remained silent for a moment. “How did you know?”
“You had his breath spray in your office with matching desk tray organizers. Plus there was the way you ignored each other at the party, and the way you didn’t come to work after he died. You’re not the type to miss work,” Mom said.
I noticed that Mom didn’t mention the email that was sent to him on the day he died. That was a good move.
“It was such a mistake to go out with him in the first place,” she said. “But he just kept asking me, and I’d just had a bad breakup…” Madison’s voice trailed off.
“I just thought you should know it wasn’t your fault,” Mom said.
“Thanks,” Madison said, her voice soft and quivering. Then she turned away and went back into her office.
I grabbed the duffel bag, and Mom and Wenling steered our cart full of gear and leftovers to the service elevator. We dropped Wenling off at the restaurant and headed home.
Driving from Main Street through the streets of Fletcher Canyon, I couldn’t help but smile. The Turing Tech gig would cover the payments we needed to make on the van. Plus, we’d been paid a hefty sum for the first party already. My mind drifted to the briefcase I’d found in Mom’s guest room at the end of our first case.
With all the excitement of this case, I’d forgotten to take a closer look at it. Mom had a date tomorrow. I vowed to look it over then.
I pulled into our driveway and opened the garage door so we could unload our gear. Moriarty jumped over the fence from the backyard and came to greet Mom. I even got to pet him a few times before he put his tail in the air and trotted to the door that led from the garage to the kitchen.
I grabbed the big metal pan with the leftovers and Mom scooped up our cat before opening the door for me. “If I hold him,” Mom explained, kissing Moriarty’s cute kitty ear, “he can’t trip you.”
I waddled through the door with the tray against my torso and set it down on the counter.
“Do you want to go clothes shopping tomorrow, kid?” Mom asked, bending down to let Moriarty jump to the kitchen tile.
“You want something for your big date,” I teased.
Mom headed for the coffee pot. “You need new sneakers.”
“That’s true, and maybe we can go to lunch somewhere other than the Lucky Dragon.”
“Don’t tell Wenling.”
“Do you want to have yours now?” I asked, motioning to the leftovers.
“I’ll just have coffee and pie. We can give the rest to neighbors tomorrow.”
I scooped out enough for my dinner, and then loaded the rest of the leftovers into the fridge. The doorbell rang. I worried it would be my ex again, but it turned out to be a delivery man.
Mom bounded back to the kitchen carrying the box. “It came!” she said, reaching into one of the kitchen drawers for a box cutter.
“What came?”
“The Super Cold Creamer I saw on Kurt the Kitchen King!”
“Is that like an ice cream maker?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said pulling out the parts of the machine. “It’s so much more than an ice cream maker.”
It turned out that the “more” Mom talked about was trouble. With all the alarms going off during this case, I should have known to be on guard. But in that moment, with our first “official” but second case solved, I enjoyed a quiet Friday night at home in Fletcher Canyon with Mom.
8
A Note from the Author and her mom
Mom glanced at the cover for Mango Cake and Murder.
“People bought the book, Mom. It made Amazon’s Hot New Releases and even hit a few of their bestseller lists,” I said, trying to impress her.
“It’s good. The title is very clever,” she said.
I beamed. For Mom, “good” is high praise and “clever” is the highest. She liked the way the mango cake came out. My sister, Edie, drew it.
“What’s next?” she asked. Mom liked to keep things moving.
I told her about Apple Pies and Alibis as well as Milkshakes and Murder. This time she didn’t suggest I write about the manangal or like Stephen King.
“Sounds good,” she said. “Make sure to thank the people who bought it. It’s very nice of them to choose yours.”
“Of course I will,” I said. And then we talked about what to have for Chris
tmas dinner.
It’s very kind of you to spend some time with Mom and me. Thank you for reading. We hope to see you in the next book.
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Also by Christy Murphy
Mango Cake and Murder
Apple Pies and Alibis
Milkshakes and Murder
Mocha and Murder
Coconuts and Crooks
Honey Buns and Homicide
Marshmallows and Murder
Apple Pies and Alibis Page 9