Not seeing anyone lurking about, I grabbed the pillow then sprinted around the building and headed for work. My heart beat so hard the front of my shirt moved with each pounding. I tossed the contraband into my trunk to evaluate later.
My cell phone vibrated with a text from Brad. SORRY. 2 POLICE CARS CAME, THEN CLEANING VAN. DID YOU MAKE IT OUT OK?”
I replied, ALL OK. AT WORK.
GOOD. I’LL BE BY YOUR PLACE AFTER WORK. STAY SAFE.
Georgina glanced up when I entered the shop. “Just in time to deliver to the police station.”
I groaned. That was the last place I wanted to be. I grabbed the bag of goodies and two carafes sitting next to the bag. “They ordered the whole shebang.”
“Yep. Officer Rogen said they’re expecting a long night.”
I set the delivery in the back seat of my car and drove carefully to the police station. With my hands full, carrying the ordered items from the car to the building, I struggled to open the door. The receptionist spotted my trouble and came to help.
“They’ll want those in the conference room. Follow me.” She led me into a nearby room, set the bag on the oval oak table, then left to answer a ringing telephone.
I gratefully set the two heavy carafes on the sideboard. As I turned to leave, I caught sight of the photo from my driver’s license hanging on a whiteboard. “Wow. The case board,” I whispered. I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then stood in front of the six-foot wall of clues.
Under my name was written, “No alibi” and “No motive.” Next to Sue’s was, “Locked in closet.” No other photos of suspects hung on the board, but there were pictures of the crime scene. The ones I took were every bit as good as these, giving me a measure of pride in my abilities.
I moved down the board, reading the notes. The police didn’t have much more than I did. It was quite obvious they needed whatever help I could give.
“Get away from there.”
I squealed and whirled and found myself staring into the stern face of Rogen. “I brought your delivery.”
“And started snooping.” He narrowed his eyes. “See enough?”
“Roy Miller sold insurance to corporations in Sea Side and nearby cities. Maybe you should start asking questions of those he had meetings with.” I flashed a grin at his expression of surprise and brushed past him. “If you don’t want people seeing your case board, turn it toward the wall when you aren’t in the room.”
Score one for Ashley.
As I returned to the shop, I wondered who I could ask about someone named Connor. I sent a quick text to Sue, praying she wouldn’t rat me out, but didn’t receive an answer. I drove by Miller’s Inc. and noticed the cleaning van was gone, but another one had taken its place. Very odd. Why would two cleaning services be needed for a one-room crime scene?
When Brad arrived at the house, I blurted, “What was the name on the cleaning van that showed up today?”
“Hello to you too.” He grinned. “Cleaning Groupies. Why?”
“Because another one was there after that. The name on the side of the van was Keeping it Clean.”
He frowned. “Why another one?”
I typed both names into my computer. “Only one is real: Keeping it Clean.” I had a phone call to make. I dialed the number to the legitimate cleaning service.
“Hello, I was the receptionist at Miller Inc.,” I told the woman who answered. “I’d like to thank you for your services today.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, “but we didn’t do much. The room was already cleaned.”
“Oh, someone else must have called another company. I’m sure someone will be in touch with you regarding the mix-up.” After saying goodbye, I hung up. “The fake cleaners took care of the scene.”
“Removing all evidence before the real ones showed.” Brad handed me a bag from a local burger joint. “I’m going to be as big as a house if we keep eating fast food and takeout.”
“I’ll cook again tomorrow.” I sat at the table and sent the day’s photos to my email to be printed. “Were you able to check around your job?”
He sighed. “No. The receptionist worked through lunch so she could leave early. By the time she left, I was out on a job. I’m not much help, am I?”
“You’ll get an opportunity.” I smiled to reassure him. “Thinking through with me what little we dig up is a tremendous help.” Our assignment was due in three weeks. “We need to make copies of all this so you have a set to go over when the mood strikes you.”
“That’s a great idea.” He glanced at my printer in the corner. “I’ll do it before I leave tonight.”
I bit into my burger. “Wow. Delicious.”
“My favorite joint.” Brad popped a french fry into his mouth. As if reading my mind, he said, “We should probably put what we do know, the events that have happened, into some sort of a report, adding to it as we go. Then, if the case is still open when our project is due, all we have to do is say what we would have done with more information.”
I nodded. “See, you’re always thinking.” I tapped my temple, smearing ketchup on my face. I stared at my fingers. The resemblance to the blood on Roy’s face almost made me lose my appetite. I swiped at my fingers and then my temple with a napkin.
“Let me.” Brad took the napkin and leaned close.
I breathed deep of a woodsy pine scent and sawdust as he dabbed away the ketchup. “Thanks.” Face heated, I pulled back, our gazes locking.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but smiled instead and returned to eating. “So, we need to find out who Connor is.”
“A first name, maybe?” I arched a brow. “Although none of the names on my list have that for a first name or a last name.”
“Personal friend of Miller’s?”
I shrugged. “Must be.” I wracked my brain to remember who his friends were. “We can ask around at the funeral this weekend. The killer will be there.”
“How do you know?” He tilted his head.
“The killer always attends the funeral of his victim.”
“Television again?”
I laughed. “This, I got from a book.” I snapped my fingers. “The pillow.” I rushed outside and grabbed it from the trunk. I picked up the day’s paper on my way back to the apartment.
I tossed the pillow to Brad and explained why I’d taken it. “There’s a hole,” I said.
“From a bullet.”
I nodded. “Someone used this pillow to muffle the gunshot. That’s why Sue didn’t hear anything when she was in the supply closet.”
Brad locked gazes with me. “Why didn’t we see it during our dumpster dive?”
“I imagine the cleaning crew had instructions to dispose of it.”
I opened the newspaper to the obituaries. Poor Roy. It didn’t say anything about leaving behind family.
CHAPTER 6
The sun shone bright on the morning of Roy’s funeral. I wore a black pencil skirt and royal-blue blouse as I waited for Brad to pick me up. I never saw the reasoning behind not wearing some color to a funeral. I don’t want any black at mine. Cheerful colors are what I want.
Grateful Brad agreed to go with me, I also hoped two sets of eyes and ears would be better than mine alone and that we’d hear something that would help us find out who Connor was.
I raced outside as Brad pulled up to the curb. I quickly slid into the passenger seat before he could get out.
He frowned. “I would have opened the door for you.”
“I know.” I clicked my seat belt into place. “I don’t want to be late. We need good seats.”
“It isn’t a movie theater.” He shook his head. “You act like you’re excited.”
“Aren’t you?” I widened my eyes. “I mean, I’m sad that Roy is dead, but this could be our big break. It shouldn’t be hard to find Connor, if he’s there.”
He pulled away from the curb and down the street. “You plan on just saying his name until someone answers?”
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“Sort of.” My whole plan sounded kind of callous when he said it out loud. “I’ll try and be discreet, but time is ticking.” I really wanted us to have a solution when we turned in our report. Solving Roy’s murder wouldn’t bring him back, but it would make sure justice was served and let me know whether I had what it took to work forensics. I realized I still sounded selfish. Perhaps it really was time to have a heart-to-heart talk with God and regain a proper perspective.
“You’re a strange girl, Ashley Lawrence.” The soft way he said it made it sound like a good thing.
Great. Rogen had beaten us to the funeral home and was standing guard duty by the double front doors. I refused to let that bother me. I had as much right to attend a friend’s memorial service as anyone. I hiked up my chin, linked arms with Brad, and strolled past the officer.
“Ms. Lawrence,” he growled.
“Officer Rogen,” I said as sweetly as possible before entering the building.
Brad whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. “I think I might be the only male in Sea Side who actually likes you.”
I turned, bumping noses with him. “You like me?” Did he mean like like or just like, as in friends?
“Of course.” He chuckled and tapped my nose. “You’re cute and funny and never boring.”
I sighed. As a friend, then. Very well, I’d keep my growing affection for him to myself.
The funeral home was packed, leaving Brad and me no choice but to sit in the back row. Sighing, I took my seat and watched as folks filed past the casket. I would not be going up. I’d seen enough of a dead Roy to last the rest of my life.
As if he read my mind, Brad took my hand. “I understand,” he said softly.
I cut him a sideways glance. “About?”
“Not going up. When my grandfather died, I didn’t want to remember him looking like a wax figure. In this case, though, a wax figure might be preferable than the image of your friend covered in blood.” He gave my hand a squeeze.
“Good point.” I got to my feet and joined the slow-moving line.
When I reached the casket, I closed my eyes then popped them open. The man inside didn’t look as if he’d been murdered. Instead, Roy seemed asleep and at peace.
“I’ll find out who did this,” I whispered. “That’s a promise.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Rogen directly behind me. When had he cut in line? The look on his face told me he’d heard my promise. No matter. Short of arresting me, he couldn’t stop me.
I joined some people in the other room where tea and cookies were being served. As if the man next to me was named Connor, I spoke the name out loud. By the time I approached the third group of people and called out, “Connor,” most of those in attendance were staring at me as if I were nuts. But a man in the group, maybe ten years older than my twenty-five, jerked his head up and looked around. I tapped a woman on the shoulder. “Who is that?”
She dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “Roy’s son, Connor.”
“I didn’t know he had a son.” No mention of one in his obituary.
“They haven’t spoken in years,” she said, “but I heard they had recently connected.” She tilted her head. “Why all the questions?”
“I used to work for Roy and wanted to give my condolences to his family.” I smiled and waved to Brad where I was headed. Before I could question Connor, an attendant signaled it was time to take our seats in the chapel.
I quickly told Brad what I’d learned. “I think they were going to meet but canceled for some reason.”
“A good assumption.” He took my hand again, making me wonder if I was wrong about him liking me as just a friend. A dreamer like me could always hope for more, right?
The pastor spoke of how wonderful Roy was, how much he’d be missed, and how he was survived by his only son, Connor, who would be taking over the business. That was a sure motive for murder in my opinion.
“Pretty suspicious that his son would show up, then Roy gets killed,” I whispered to Brad.
He glanced around then lowered his head. “Most definitely. We still can’t rule out my bosses though. The receptionist is taking a day off on Monday. I’ll stay late and do some digging around.” His head jerked up. “Speaking of.”
I turned to see two men enter the room. With no seats left, they both waved at Brad then stood in the corner. Dressed in dark suits, all they lacked were the sunglasses to look like secret agents. I’d expected them to be older, but they looked as if they were in their early to midfifties.
“Stop staring.” Brad gave my hand a tug. “Don’t act suspicious.”
Right. I refocused on the front of the room where Sue, fake lashes dripping tears, got up and gave her version of what a wonderful man Roy had been. Hadn’t she thought him stern? Oh well. People tend to forget the bad things when someone dies.
After the talking was done, the pastor directed us to the adjoining room again to visit and enjoy the pastries and tea ordered from Tea by the Sea. I couldn’t help but wonder who footed the bill. If they’d expected this kind of turnout, it wouldn’t have been cheap.
Spotting Connor Miller receiving condolences from Sue, I rushed to join them, leaving Brad to get us a treat. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I thrust out my hand. “Ashley Lawrence. I used to work for your father.”
“Thank you.” Sorrow crossed his features. “It’s been a bit of a shock.”
“Had you gotten to meet with him since your return?”
“Now is not the time to investigate, Ashley.” Sue shook her head then returned to fluttering her ridiculous lashes. “Can’t you see poor Connor is grieving?”
“It’s fine.” The man looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “We were supposed to have lunch the day he died, but my father canceled. I’m actually surprised he left me the business.”
“Why?” I held my breath. Here came the confession.
“I wasn’t very nice to him when he divorced my mother.” He shrugged. “Teenagers can be cruel.”
“Is your mother here?”
“No, she passed away from cancer last year.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” To lose them both within a year of each other, one to a horrible disease and the other to a violent act, had to be hard. “Do you know why your father canceled?”
“He said something came up.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Excuse me.” He strode away without a backward glance.
“That was very rude.” Sue crossed her arms and glared. “You don’t interrogate someone who just lost their father.”
“What if Connor isn’t grieving as much as he wants us to believe?” I raised my brows. “Estranged, now the owner of the business. Coincidence? Maybe.” I searched the room for Brad. Seeing him with his bosses, his hands devoid of paper plates full of goodies, I headed for the table to fill a plate to share when he finished with the two men.
Georgina had provided some of everything. I gained ten pounds just looking at the delectable spread. I nibbled on a scone while I waited for Brad, hoping he’d come back with more information than I’d gathered.
Ugh. Officer Rogen marched toward me, a hard glint in his eyes. “Stop badgering the son of the deceased.”
“I was merely offering my condolences.” The scone dried up in my mouth. “Who said I was badgering?”
“Sue said you were asking questions about Connor’s relationship with his father. I’ve warned you to stay out of this, Ms. Lawrence.”
“I worked for Mr. Miller and didn’t know he had a son. I asked questions out of mere curiosity. Really, the conversation took two minutes.” I took another bite of my pastry, wishing Brad would come and save me. I gave an audible sigh when he did.
Officer Rogen met Brad’s unabashed gaze then whirled and moved to the other side of the room. I gripped Brad’s arm and pulled him to a secluded corner. “Thank you.”
Brad looked back at the police officer. “Weird how he up and left when I arrived. Was he mistreating you?”
“Only warning me to stop asking questions. Did you find out anything?”
“They had a meeting, canceled because of out-of-town business, arrived back in town to find out Miller had been murdered.”
“Do you believe them?”
“I’m not sure.” His gaze drifted to where Jenkins and Olson stood. “They kept looking at each other before they’d answer my questions, as if they wanted to make sure their stories matched.”
“Are you still going to snoop around the office?”
“Absolutely. Are you ready to leave? I don’t think we’ll learn much more here, and that officer is staring at us.”
“He does that a lot.” I tossed the plate in the garbage and strolled from the building as if I didn’t have a care in the world.
The plaid shirt on a man getting into a truck reminded me of the pillow I’d found in the dumpster. I really should turn it over to Rogen. It was evidence, after all, and while I was actively looking into Roy’s murder, I really didn’t want to hinder an investigation.
Maybe I could turn it in anonymously? I shook my head. Nah. It would take Rogen about two seconds to link the pillow to me. I huffed in frustration, and Brad must have heard.
“Are you all right?” He put a hand on the small of my back.
“Thinking about the pillow and how to turn it in without getting into trouble.”
“Just tell the truth. You were walking behind the building and found it and remembered it from when you worked there.” He steered me toward his car.
“Why was I walking in the alley?”
“I guess that’s what we have to figure out.” He stopped walking. “What’s that?”
A sheet of paper fluttered from under his windshield wiper. At first I thought it was a sales flyer, but no other cars sported one. I gently pulled the paper free and read, “Stay out of it or you’ll end up like Miller.”
CHAPTER 7
My knees gave way. Brad caught me before I crumpled to the ground. He opened the car door and helped me sit inside.
The Tea Shoppe Mysteries Page 22