by Kira Reese
“I wonder how Sean Scholten will handle this,” Sharon said.
I wondered where Sean Scholten was at the moment, but did not voice my question. Thoughts raced through my mind, and I asked Sharon who else was close to the workings and employees of Goff and Sons Mortuary. She told me just about everyone knew everyone around town. “It would be hard to pinpoint any one person who would do such a thing.”
By the time we showered and dressed, the whole lake area had gotten the news of Vickie Goff’s murder. Rumors flew like tumbleweeds across a prairie in high winds. Everyone speculated about who could be the murderer in their town. I convinced Sharon we should get out and pay attention to the gossip.
Soon after, we browsed the shops along the main thoroughfare, and then at lunchtime we found a small café that was one of Sharon’s favorites. Cooler weather came in overnight, but it was still warm enough to enjoy an outside table. A couple sat at the table next to ours. The young woman’s face was alive with the news of the day.
“It had to be Janice Scholten. I mean, how long could we expect her to put up with the affair between Sean and Vickie?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” said the man. “If she did it, why would she kill John?”
I watched the woman prop her chin in her hand. “I don’t know. But it could have been her.”
So far, there were no viable leads to anyone, in particular. The wind picked up and Sharon said she was getting cold sitting outside. We decided to move along to warm up. We were in and out of shops until we arrived at Beverly’s antique shop. She greeted us and voiced surprise that I was back in town so soon. The conversation flowed easily, and I felt as if Beverly had known me as long as she had known Sharon and her family. We all turned when loud voices came from the doorway as two people entered the shop.
“Hurry up in here,” said the man. “I need to get back to the mortuary soon. I have a funeral to do today.”
Sharon recognized the man and whispered that his name was Randall Hunt. “He’s the former partner at Goff and Sons. I guess he’s taking care of funerals there.”
We looked around the shop while Beverly waited on the woman who came in with Randall. She purchased a necklace and earrings to match and handed over her credit card. After the transaction, the couple left.
“He surely didn’t mean Vickie’s funeral already,” said Beverly.
“No,” said Sharon. “There is someone else to be buried today, though I’m not sure who it is. Randall must be taking care of things until decisions about the funeral home get decided.”
We discussed the probability that now, since Vickie was gone, too, it would be sold or closed. The subject held our interests until the door jingled, announcing another customer. We told Beverly good-bye and walked farther down the street. A small park was on the left side of the sidewalk. I suggested we sit on one of the benches and think about things. Our walking activity warmed Sharon again.
“Do you know why Randall Hunt dissolved the partnership with John Goff?”
Sharon thought for a few minutes before she answered. “I don’t believe anyone knew exactly what happened. John Goff was not easy to get along with. I always presumed it had something to do with a serious disagreement within the business.”
“I am sure the police are looking at everyone who is connected in some way to the mortuary,” I said. “I’m curious about issues the men did not agree on.” Sharon shivered from the brisk wind. “Let’s head home again,” I said. “We can change clothes later before I take you out for dinner.”
She laughed. “I’ve always been cold natured, as you know. I’ve often thought I belong in Florida or Arizona year round.”
“You would miss the city life that only New York can offer.”
It was late afternoon when we curled up on cushioned chairs and drank hot chocolate. I could not get the recent murders off my mind. I wanted to be a part of the investigation instead of standing on the outside looking in.
“How well do you know Detective Bruce McMillan?” I asked Sharon.
“I’ve known who he is since he arrived here ten or fifteen years ago. More recently, I have met with him about my mother’s brooch. I met with him a second time about seeing Vickie and Sean in the crime scene area where John was found. Why do you ask?”
“I may persuade Ben to put in a good word for me so I can get into the investigation.” I doubted things would go so smoothly.
Sharon snapped her fingers. “I will officially hire you to investigate how my mother’s jewelry failed to be on her dress for burial.” She jumped up and opened her secretary desk and retrieved a checkbook. “Do you want a check, or do you prefer cash? I can go to an ATM and get cash for you.”
Her idea was the very thing to get me into the business and workings of a mortuary with Goff and Sons, in particular. I waved my hand at her and told her to sit back down. Then I heated the cocoa again on the stove and refilled our cups. “I like your idea. We can decide on compensation when you agree with my end result. In the meantime, if you don’t mind, I’ll use your computer and get a contract printed off for us to sign. That way, it will be official if asked for.”
“Who would ask for it?”
“If I push my way into the inner circles of the law around here, someone may ask for proof you hired me.” I didn’t recall that ever actually happening, but better to be safe on the matter.
I called Ben after we each signed the contract. I told him of the second murder in Sand Ridge and who the victim was. I then asked him for one of my favors. “Do you have time to call your friend Detective McMillan and find out if the murder scene was the same as John Goff’s?”
I waited for the usual pause Ben gave me when deciding how much he would do on my behalf in various cases. He finally agreed to talk with his friend in charge of the case.
“I’ll call you back when I find out anything.” His voice was crisp.
It would be hard to wait to hear back from Ben. It could be the next day or longer before he had anything for me. I advised Sharon to wait until Monday before asking Officer Checkers to go further in the case of the brooch.
“I doubt they will let me into the crime scene at the mortuary to do any digging on my own. I suppose the funeral set for later today will go ahead as planned,” I said.
Sharon had told me she saw in the paper the visitation would be at six in the evening, followed with cremation of the body. I picked up the paper again and read the obituary for Elizabeth South, who passed away from cancer. Then I glanced at my watch.
“We have time to make it for the visitation if we hurry up and change clothes.”
Sharon did not ask questions, and we were soon out the door and on our way to Goff and Sons Mortuary. We signed the book as if friends of the deceased. Elizabeth had been born and grew up in the Sand Ridge area but then raised her family in Schenectady, New York, according to the cards on the table. I thought it lucky we did not know her family and did not have to explain how we knew Elizabeth. We viewed the body and expressed sympathy to those we sensed were family members. No one asked our relationship to Elizabeth.
“Let’s sit down for a while and observe,” I whispered to Sharon.
She nodded and we found a place in the middle of the room. I especially wanted to take note of Randall Hunt, who stood by the door. His shoulders naturally bent and his face remained somber as he spoke to a few of the mourners. He left twice and returned after a few minutes each time. I saw nothing unusual about the mannerisms of the funeral director. On our way out the door, Sharon locked eyes with the receptionist. Catherine forced a smile when she spoke briefly to Sharon, who introduced me as her best friend from out of town.
The night sky filled with stars and the moon was almost a full one. “That woman gives me the creeps,” said Sharon. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I think she has more control over things around here than the typical receptionist.” She told me of the woman’s cold behavior toward her when she came twice to talk to Vickie Goff.
“It was almost like getting through Fort Knox.”
“Let’s keep her in our sights, along with Randall Hunt,” I said. “Tonight’s full moon could explain why Catherine gives you the creeps.”
We laughed at my statement and drove back to Sharon’s where we ordered a carry-in. That option was decided when we both wanted to talk more about the two murders in Sand Ridge.
Chapter 7
Getting in Deeper
I returned home late Sunday night. Nick and I talked several times over the phone during the weekend. When he came in an hour after I arrived home he was excited to tell me about his weekend. Apparently it had been quite a success.
“More than clinching our deal, you should see the client’s spread. I have no idea of the square footage of that home, but there were enough bedrooms and bathrooms to take care of at least eight people or more. They even have two swimming pools. One is for families with kids, mainly their own grandchildren, and the other is specifically for adults.”
He went on to expound on the fountains and two waterfalls that spilled into the pools. I agreed that it must be a spectacular place. “I wonder if they use all that space when they don’t have guests,” I said.
“I suppose with that kind of money it doesn’t matter. Now, tell me about your weekend. You didn’t say much over the phone. I sure hope you didn’t bring bad luck to Sand Ridge with another murder.”
His remark caught me off guard at first. “I didn’t tell you about it, because I didn’t want to spoil your weekend. There was another murder. This time it was the last victim’s wife. I have been talking with Ben about both of them.”
Nick stared at me. “Are you all right?” he asked. I assured him I was and then told him of Ben’s relationship with the lead detective at Sand Ridge. “Ben is getting information for me.”
“Why do you need details?” asked Nick. Crystal eyes held suspicion.
“Sharon has hired me to find out what was going on in the mortuary with theft from bodies—her mother’s, in particular. I told you about the stolen brooch meant to be buried with her.”
Nick leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms. “Uh huh, you did. I have a sneaking feeling that you two are scheming a way for you to get into more than stolen jewelry.”
I told him I was more than curious about the murders and felt there were connections to jewelry and other items meant for burial with bodies and the murders. On my way home, I had formed a plan of how to spend at least a week in Sand Ridge. There was plenty of work in my office to do, but Natalie was in the same position as I had been when the business took off. She had been my receptionist and eventually made initial contacts and interviews for me. I promoted her to associate and hired Evelyn who could now do as Natalie had in the beginning. I explained this all to Nick.
“It looks as if you have it all planned out,” he said. “The worse part of it all is that I know you can’t help yourself.” He laughed. Then he said if I planned to be away for a whole week, we had to catch up together. We grabbed a salad and he made sandwiches. Once we ate, we headed for our bedroom. I fell asleep wondering how I would do without Nick for an entire week.
The next day I met with Natalie and Evelyn and explained my absence for a week. We worked out who would do what. We decided that if new clients came in with heavy cases, they would let them know when I would be back. If they couldn’t wait a week, then I had to chance losing that client.
“If smaller cases come up, go ahead and get started on them, but let those clients know I’ll be away for a few days. It should work well, if you two think you can handle it.”
Both nodded their heads in agreement. It never failed that when a new case or new responsibility hit Natalie, she lit up like a Christmas tree. Evelyn, more subdued, glowed.
I worked a long day and called Sharon when I got the chance to let her know of my plans. I did not tell her that Ben had called with new information regarding the murder of Vickie Goff. I wanted to tell her in person. She was happy I wanted to spend the week with her and told me she could manage the rest of the week off after Tuesday. I had an extra key to her lake home; it was given to me just after her mother had passed away.
Tuesday morning came with crisper air and a light wind. Fall was my favorite season and I hoped when it arrived the colors would be brilliant. I threw in a light jacket and extra sweater along with things I would need. Last of all, I packed in my laptop and turned to give Nick a kiss good-bye.
“Be very careful, Candy.” At my expression, he laughed. “I know I tell you that more than you want to hear it, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
I knew what he meant.
“I’ll call you daily, and, Nick, congratulations again in landing that investor deal. I’m proud of you.”
He smiled and pulled back from my open car window. It was a sight that would stay with me until I saw him again.
I arrived at Sharon’s a couple of hours before she got home and put my things in the bedroom I considered mine. Then I went back outside to retrieve the newspaper for Sharon. I felt the nosy neighbor’s eyes on me, but I ignored her, hoping she wouldn’t make her way over and think I was interested in her gossip. I quickly closed the door and locked it again. I peered between the shear living room curtains and saw no sign of the neighbor. I chilled two chardonnay bottles of wine and opened my computer. I brought up everything I could find about Goff and Sons Mortuary.
John Goff was the last living descendant of the family. It did not surprise me that he and Vickie did not have children after hearing her story from Sharon. I wondered who was in line to inherit the funeral business once John and Vickie were deceased. That could be a key to finding the murderer. I recalled how most disliked John, but wasn’t sure how the town felt about Vickie. I heard Sharon coming in and she called a welcome to me.
“I’ll change clothes and be right back in,” she said. She set a large white paper sack on the kitchen table. “I brought Chinese food in for tonight. I hope you still like it.”
I assured her I did and went into the kitchen to lay out plates and silverware. When she came in I had opened the containers of chow mein and shrimp with fried rice. Crab rangoons were wrapped in a smaller sack, as were the vegetable egg rolls. In the bottom of the sack were chopsticks for both of us.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t mastered the art of chopsticks yet,” said Sharon. She laughed when she pointed to the silverware.
“You are as unrelenting as Nick. And no, I have not gotten the hang of it without starving between bites. But help yourself to the authentic way of eating Chinese foods.”
We enjoyed bantering back and forth, and I had to admire her dexterity when it came to using chopsticks. We cleaned up the kitchen and I told her if she were ready for details of Vickie’s murder, I would pour wine and tell her. She was eager to hear everything and we settled in her living room.
“Ben told me her body was found with four stab wounds, one in her neck, which caused her to quickly bleed to death. On the basement floor next to her body was a loaded handgun with one bullet missing, but again, no bullet in the body of the deceased.”
Sharon leaned back. “I don’t understand the reasons for the gun. And who wants to leave their guns at the scenes?”
“I think it is a signature stamp from the killer. He or she is letting us know he is the same person committing the murders. I can’t see where it holds any other meaning.” I told her there were no fingerprints on the guns. The gun next to John Goff’s body was traced, and found to be stolen. “They are still seizing computers and other items in the basement. I am sure they are going through the rest of the place as well as questioning employees.”
“I doubt there are very many employees there besides Catherine,” said Sharon. “Unless they count the person who takes care of the lawn, and then, of course, there is the maintenance man. His name is Jim. He’s worked there forever and is probably nearing retirement age by now.”
“I’m here for the whol
e week. The main reason I wanted to get deeper into all of this is because not only do I want to trace your mother’s jewelry journey, but I think these murders are somehow connected in the thefts there. I don’t have proof more bodies were robbed, but I have a strong feeling there are more.”
Sharon shifted. “There is one other I know of,” she said. “Beverly called me to tell me that the vendor who sold her the lot that had my brooch in it told her he is getting suspicious of where some of his pieces originate from.”
“How did that subject come up?”
“Beverly said she mentioned the brooch to him. He was very surprised and took her comment seriously. I believe he is working with the police. At least, Officer Sam Checkers told me that part when I last asked him if any progress had been made on my case.” Sharon’s eyes lit up. “You may want to get to know him, Candy. He is very open and friendly. I think he would work with you on my case. I’ll tell him I have hired you.”
“I do need an in at the precinct. I don’t feel comfortable asking Ben to be my snitch. I think in this case, he may be uncomfortable with it, too.”
The next day, I went with Sharon to meet Officer Sam Checkers. She explained who I was and why I was spending the week with her. Officer Checkers was open as Sharon had promised me, and I felt we could make a good team. We talked at length. I expressed the desire to do my own search of the mortuary and crime scene when the police were finished there. He told me he would let me know when the time came. Unknown to me, once we left, he immediately did a background check on me. Later he called Sharon and told her he was more than impressed with my credentials and history in solving cases. He also told her the police were finished at the scene and the judge granted a search warrant for me to go in next.
“You’ve made quite an impression, Candy,” said Sharon. “I’m glad I hired you.”