2 Murder on Consignment

by Susan Furlong-Bolliger

  I looked down at my front side, which from my angle, resembled one of the off-color relief maps I would have colored in grade school. I always preferred using my orange crayon for the foothills and mountains. Much brighter and more imaginative than the boring old brown my classmates always chose.

  “Run up and take a look in my bathroom mirror. It looks so much better,” she said, pointing to the staircase.

  I’d only made it to the second step, when I heard something that made me stop and run back into the family room. “Did you hear that?” I asked, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume on the news program. The anchor was relaying a breaking story. She was standing in front of the Retro Metro.

  I’m reporting live from a popular home décor shop in Westmont, where, less than thirty minutes ago, a 911 call was placed indicating a murder had occurred. Investigative teams are on the scene now, but the police are offering no comments. We’ll keep our viewers informed as new details develop…

  Her words faded from my perception. All I could think of was Shep. I ran back through the house and through the kitchen. Ignoring Mom and Dad’s questions, I grabbed a coat off one of the hooks by the door and threw on my tennis shoes. I ran double time up my apartment steps, retrieved my keys, and within minutes was speeding down the road toward the Retro Metro.

  I was about two miles from home, when my cell rang. I almost crashed trying to retrieve it.

  “Pippi, it’s Shep.”

  “Shep! Where are you? I was watching the news and they said—”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling. It wasn’t me. I’m at Saint Edward’s Hospital. Can you come over? I need to talk to you.”

  “St. Edwards? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

  “No, that’s not why I’m here. Can you come now? I’m on the fourth floor.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He disconnected, leaving me with a thousand unanswered questions.

  I zoomed another block, checked my mirrors, and flipped a u-turn picking up speed as I made my way toward the hospital.

  I grabbed my cell again just as I was turning onto Ogden.

  He answered on the first ring. “Sean. It’s Pippi. I’m on my way to St. Edwards Hospital. Shep called. He’s there. On the news they said there was a murder at the Retro. What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing. I hadn’t heard about it. That’s out of my jurisdiction, but I’ll make some calls and see what I can find out. Was Shep hurt or something?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” My mind raced. What was he doing at the hospital? “He didn’t say why he’s there. Actually, he was kind of vague about the whole thing. He just said he needed to talk to me.” I didn’t care. He was alive. That’s all that mattered.

  I hung up with Sean as I pulled into a space on the North Parking Deck of the hospital. Ignoring the little white sign that marked my spot for Dr. R. Patel, I hurriedly locked my door and headed for the walkway leading to the main building.

  The elevator doors opened a few feet from the fourth floor care station. An efficient-looking nurse, dressed in orange and black scrubs with miniature jack-o-lanterns, pointed the way to Shep’s room.

  As I entered, an older couple stood and walked out. They didn’t bother to introduce themselves, but I knew who they were. I also knew if they were there, something bad was going on.

  “Hey doll, come over here,” Shep beckoned from his bed.

  I hesitated, taken back by his appearance. I’d just seen him a couple of days ago, but today his normally coffee and cream complexion was a sickly, milky color; his eyes dull; his lips dry and cracked.

  I slowly approached and took his outstretched hand. His fingertips felt ice cold against my skin.

  “What…,” I started, my voice catching in my throat.

  “I know you’ve been trying to reach me and I should have called earlier. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” Although I already knew.

  He smiled, a small painful-looking smile. I’ve been sick for a while, but I was trying to keep it from you. Don’t worry, though. This is just a temporary setback. I’m going to beat this thing.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded my head as tears spilled down my cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

  “Cancer. It spread before I recognized the symptoms. Now it’s pretty far along.”

  “I knew you’d been sick here and there. I thought you were having trouble shaking a virus. We were just out together the other day.”

  “I know. It’s the effects of the chemo. I have good days and bad days. The last couple of days have been bad. Real bad.”

  I started shivering even though the room was stifling hot. My lips twitched, but for some reason they wouldn’t form any words.

  Shep continued, filling the silence. “Those were my parents. We’ve reconciled. Can you believe it? How many years has it been? Twenty at least.”

  I was trembling now. “You’ll beat this. I know—” My words were choked out by a sob that broke loose and then turned to full-on cry fest. He pulled me close, patting my back, comforting me. Which made me feel horrible. I should be the one comforting him, but I couldn’t help myself.

  He let me carry on for a while before getting tough. “Okay. That’s enough now. It’s going to be alright. Really.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re going to beat this,” I said again, this time with more conviction. I sat up, grabbed some tissue from his bed stand and started blowing and wiping. Each time I got my face dry, new tears would start again.

  “You’re a good friend, Pippi. You’ve always been here for me. I’m going to need you now, doll. I’m going to need you to help me with something important.”

  I nodded. “Sure, anything.”

  “It’s about what happened at the Retro this evening. You saw it on the news?” he asked.

  “Yes. Who—”

  “It’s Pauline. Her boyfriend found her. He called me right after he dialed 911.”

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Shep.” My words sounded empty, even to me. The truth was, I was so numb about Shep I could hardly feel anything for Pauline. I knew her. I liked her. But I was already full of sorrow; there wasn’t any room left in me to grieve for her. The news of her death seemed to hover over me without sinking into my conscious.

  “I want you to keep an eye on the investigation. Make sure the cops don’t push it aside.”

  I stared at him, unable to answer.

  His eyes darkened. “I asked her to stay late this evening. I asked her get some paperwork done for me. It was my fault that she was there, Pippi. It’s my fault. She didn’t deserve to die. She was young, good, healthy…” His voice trailed off with an echo of gurgling. He hacked a few times.

  “Her boyfriend found her?” I asked, trying to keep my mind clear and stay on task.

  “He didn’t do it. I know the kid,” Shep said, squelching any accusations I might make. “He found her … body…you just have to trust me on this. The cops are wasting time on him.”

  I waited for a minute, caressing his hand and giving him a chance to regain his breath. The silence was punctuated with the beeping and whirring of machines.

  “It should have been me,” he finally continued. “I’m sick anyway. What a waste and just ….” He shook his head as if trying to shake off the horror of it all. “She was a runaway. That’s why I think the police won’t put enough effort into finding her killer. She was really into the drug scene at one time; but, her past doesn’t have anything to do with this. She was getting her life back together. Taking classes and everything. She wanted to major in business. She was only twenty years old.” I watched as he reached for his water bottle. His hand wobbled as he drank. Water dribbled out the side of his dry lips. I grabbed a tissue to blot it for him, glad to feel of help. “I want you to promise me that you’ll do everything you can to make sure the police find the person who did this. Don’t let them give up.”

  “I will,” I promise
d.

  Shep grabbed my hand and squeezed lightly. “I know you will.”

  We grew silent again. For a second, I thought he’d fallen asleep.

  Suddenly, his eyes popped open. “Now I need to ask you something really serious,” he said, a slow smile creeping over his face. “What are you wearing?”

  I stopped and looked down. I forgot I was still wearing Cherry’s gawd-awful bridesmaid dress.

  I laughed. Then laughed some more. Soon I was rolling with almost hysteric laughter. From bawling to laughing. My emotions were shot.

  “This,” I said, taking off my coat and twirling around, “is a dress I have to wear in front of two hundred people next Saturday for my cousin’s wedding. What do you think?” I struck a couple of poses, just to give him the full affect.

  “Whew … that’s ugly—really ugly.”

  I laughed and sat back down on the edge of his bed. “Isn’t it? Even I think it’s horrible and you know I’m no fashion diva.”

  He offered a weak smile in response. “Wish I could help you out with that, hon.”

  I shook my head. Tears were starting again.

  Thankfully a nurse came in to change his IV. As she entered, I caught a glimpse of his parents hovering outside the door.

  “I think I should go and let you rest,” I said, laying my head down on his shoulder for another hug.

  “I’m counting on you,” he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before moving out of the way for the nurse.

  I left the hospital thinking how quickly life can change. Here I was, so stressed out over this stupid dress when two people had lost their lives and my best friend was fighting for his.

  Chapter 10

  When I reached home, I found Sean’s car parked in my drive. He was sitting on my bottom step, waiting. I sat next to him, shivering in the cool autumn night air.

  He wrapped his arm around me. “It was Pauline,” he said softly. “She was shot to death at the Retro Metro. I’m sorry, Pippi.”

  “I know. Shep told me. I just … I saw her yesterday.”

  Sean turned me until I was facing him. “Why’s Shep at the hospital?”

  “He’s sick. It doesn’t look good. Cancer.” The words caught in my throat.

  Sean searched my face, but remained silent.

  “He feels like it should have been him instead of Pauline. I left you a message earlier, but it might not have made too much sense. Sean, I think Jane and Pauline’s murders are connected and that they’re tied to James Farrell somehow. You can check the gun ballistics, right? See if they match.”

  “Pippi, I don’t think—”

  “I don’t care if you agree with me or not. Just promise me that you’ll check into what I’m saying. I told Shep I’d make sure Pauline’s killer was brought to justice. He seems to think the police won’t put much effort into investigating her murder because she’s a reformed addict.”

  There was a long pause. To my surprise, he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned in, kissed my forehead lightly, and raised my face to his. “The Westmont PD is handling Pauline’s murder, but I’m in contact with the lead investigator. Plus, I’ve already starting checking into A to Z Estate Sales. If there’s a connection to James Farrell, I’ll find it. In the meantime, promise you’ll be careful,” he said. Then he stood and left.

  *

  I set my alarm earlier than usual. I needed to get up and get busy first thing. Not only to keep my mind off Shep but to keep my business going. I needed to increase my cash flow, especially if I was going to be tied up looking into things for Shep.

  My first task, after my usual morning routine, was to turn my attention to packaging a few extra on-line sales. These would be my late payers—the people I had to invoice two or three times before getting a payment. If only everyone could just be an instant payer.

  After packaging, I hurried and rushed through my on-line account and responded to questions about auction items. I was sailing through my responses too, until I opened a question from FrugilMom5, who was bidding on a lot of kid’s clothes. She wanted me to measure every item from pit to pit and crotch to hem. Ugh!

  My finger hovered over my mouse, as I briefly considered committing email homicide. I would have just loved to click her request into the cyberspace graveyard; but I was a professional, and who knew, she might end up being my high bidder.

  So, after a half-hour of tedious measuring, and a couple bowls of cereal, I had satisfied my daily work quota and was ready to get down to the business of checking into Pauline’s murder.

  I packed a soda to go, grabbed the packages I needed to ship, and headed out the door for the Retro Metro.

  After leaving the post office, I called Shep at the hospital so that he could arrange for someone to let me in the store. It was closed for the week so the employees could have time off to attend Pauline’s funeral. I didn’t want to think about it, but wondered if perhaps the Retro would never reopen, especially since Shep was so ill.

  Pessimistic thoughts plagued me the entire drive until I pulled into the parking lot about a half-hour later. I immediately recognized Owen as soon as I saw his unforgettable piercings. Today, he seemed nervous, fumbling with the key a few times before successfully opening the door. Of course, a murdered co-worker would make anyone nervous. I felt sorry for the kid.

  As soon as I walked in, it hit me that Pauline was actually gone. In the face of my sorrow for Shep, I hadn’t been able to grasp her death; but, it was right here, just a few days ago, that I had seen her last. Now she was gone and I was trying to find out the truth about her murder.

  Owen hovered wide-eyed just inside the entrance. His arms were crossed tightly around his chest, as if he was trying to hold himself together.

  “Were you here yesterday during store hours?” I asked him.

  “Yeah. I was here until we closed at five. Pauline was staying to work on some stuff for Shep. She wasn’t going to stay too long because she was going to go out with her boyfriend.”

  “Tanner’s his name, right?”

  “Yeah. He’s a nice guy. He hangs around here a lot. They were serious, I think.”

  I made my way toward Shep’s office. “Was she in here?” I asked, although I needn’t have. I already knew. The room had a forbidden feeling. Almost like death was still hanging in the air.

  He nodded, keeping his distance. I tried to imagine what he was feeling. I wondered how he was going to be able to come back to work after losing his friend in such a horrible way.

  I skimmed over the room, not looking too hard. I really didn’t want to see any signs of her brutal murder. Instead, I mulled over what Owen told me. It was almost as if the murderer had timed his visit to find Pauline alone. Why? To kill her or for something else? How did he know she’d be alone in the office?

  “Owen, did you have a lot of customers yesterday?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. We were busy, I guess.”

  “Anyone who stood out? You know, someone who was maybe dressed weirdly or seemed to act suspicious.”

  “No,” he said, but I sensed a slight hesitation in his reply.

  “How did you know Pauline had a date last night?”

  He paused and shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

  “This is important, Owen. How did you know? Did she mention it while you were working?”

  He squinted, obviously trying hard to remember. “I think she told me right before we got ready to close down for the day.” His eyes widened. “Yeah, that’s when she told me. I remember, she had just got off the phone with Shep and she told me to take care of the cash register receipts before I left. She said she’d be staying late to do some work in the office. She’d wanted to get it done because Tanner was going to pick her up around six or something.”

  I stood and walked to where he was standing and looked him directly in the face. “Were there customers around when she told you that?”

  “Sure, I guess.”

>   I put a hand on his shoulder. “Really think about it, Owen. I need to know who was in here and what they looked like.”

  “Maybe three or four people. One was a couple. They were young. I think they were moving in together or something and were looking for furniture. They were really into each other. They got real cozy on that couch over there.” He pointed to great leather sofa about twenty feet away. It was the centerpiece of a modern display featuring clean-lined furniture and lots of black accents.

  He continued, “Then there was a woman shopping for stuff. She seemed mostly interested in books.”

  “Books?” That caught my attention.

  “Yeah, she hung out by the book cases. I asked her once if I could help her find a particular book, but she said she was just looking around.”

  “What did she look like?” I wondered if perhaps she was the same woman that visited Chuck at A to Z Estate Sales.

  “I don’t really remember. Just normal, I guess. She was older.”

  “Older like me, or older like your mother?”

  He shot me a strange look. Certainly I looked much younger than his mother. Didn’t I?

  “I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “I can’t remember. I’m not sure I even looked at her.”

  I tried not to appear as discouraged as I felt. “How about the other person, woman or man?”

  “Him, I remember. He looked like a big spender. I was trying hard to make a sale with him.”

  My antennae shot up. “What made you think he was a big spender?”

  Owen perked up. “His shoes. Actually, everything about him. He seemed, I don’t know … like he had money.”

  James Farrell had money. “Old or young? Dark hair, short, tall, fat ….”

  “Um, older, but not too old. I’m not sure about the hair. He was wearing a hat and had the collar of his coat turned up. He wasn’t too tall. In good shape. Dark eyes, maybe.”

  I bet JimDog was of average height. He was probably fit, too. “Did you see what he drove?”

  “No. But I’m sure it was nice.”

  “Probably,” I agreed, wondering what James Farrell drove. “Had Pauline been to any estate auctions lately?”