A Geek Girl's Guide to Justice (The Geek Girl Mysteries)

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Why didn’t they do something with it in the divorce?”

  “Who knows? It was years ago. She doesn’t need the money now. Her financials are solid. The policy isn’t significant enough to serve as motive in her situation.”

  “You looked at her financials.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Yes, and before you go digging again, we already know she called the insurance company to notify them of Dante’s death after I spoke to her. She requested the payment check be made to St. Jude’s.”

  “She donated the policy money?” There went that theory.

  Grandma sniffled. “Dante was an annual donor to St. Jude’s, even when he had very little to give.”

  I cleaned my plate as I processed the turn of events. I needed a new main suspect.

  Several minutes later, Mom swiped my plate and then Jake’s, adding them to a growing pile in her arms. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

  Marvin followed Mom to the kitchen.

  I turned to Jake, a new question on my mind. “Has Dan said anything else about the girl he’s seeing?”

  “No.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “No.”

  I shook my head. “If you’re going to keep hanging around with us, you’re going to have to get nosier.”

  Marvin returned with a fearful look in his eyes and stopped short of taking his seat. “Um,” he began, standing beside his empty chair and Grandma.

  The room stilled. I pulled my cell onto the table in case he needed an ambulance. Jake scooted his chair back, ready to rescue the septuagenarian from whatever ailed him.

  Marvin pulled in a deep breath, expanding his chest to extremes. “I want to thank you all for allowing me into your lives. These past six months have been wonderful. You all know I was married once, like Mary and her husband. We shared fifty good years together. I raised a daughter, too. The experiences were monumentally fulfilling, but they were nothing like what you have here. My Priscilla, bless her soul, was a meek and humble woman. She made wallflowers seem like a Mardi Gras parade. My daughter is a grandmother now. Her entire family lives in France. We aren’t close. Not like this.”

  I looked at Jake. What was happening?

  He shrugged, still ready to assist in the old man’s apparent breakdown.

  “Mary.” Marvin lowered his narrow, shaky frame to one knee.

  A gasp went through the room.

  He took her hand in his. “Mary, you are my best friend, my confidante, my compass and my guide. When I’m with you, I feel thirty years younger, like anything is possible and nothing can stand in my way. You make me laugh. You taught me what family can be. I don’t know how many years are left in these old bones, but if you’ll have me, I’d love to spend them all with you.” He produced a telltale blue Tiffany box from thin air, in true magician style. With the flick of his fingers, he uncovered a rock the size of my head and asked the big question. “Will you marry me?”

  Tears rolled over my cheeks. I swiped them away as Grandma leaped on poor Marvin, knocking him into the table.

  “Wow.” Dad supported the lovers with his palms, keeping them upright. “Save something for the wedding night, would ya?”

  “Champagne!” Mom hustled through the room with her arms over her head. She returned seconds later with a tray of glasses and deposited one in front of everyone.

  The joy on Grandma’s face was worth more than anything I could imagine. In light of her friend’s recent death, and what I perceived as the absolute worst timing. Ever. She was illuminated with joy. Who knew?

  Tom pulled Bree closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and sandwiching little Gwen between Bree’s belly and himself. Mom kissed Dad.

  I squirmed to my feet, feeling more awkward than I had in years around the family table. “I brought cream puffs and éclairs from Johnny’s.”

  I lined the pastries on a serving dish in the kitchen and wondered at the emotions ping-ponging in my chest.

  “Need any help?” Jake sauntered to my side and rested a hip against the sink.

  “Grandma asked me to look into Marvin. Do you think she knew this was coming?”

  “Maybe.”

  I stuffed a puff in my mouth. She’d known, but she still looked utterly shocked. How was that possible?

  Jake grabbed a puff. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He bit into the flaky shell. “Allergies are all cleared up?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Please don’t keep looking into this case.” All pretenses of casual were gone. His grouchy face was back in full force. “You nearly killed yourself yesterday hiding in a feed store. Imagine the danger you could be to someone else.”

  I fought a stupid smile. “I see. So, you’re not worried about me. You’re doing a public service with this request. I’m a danger to the community at large.”

  “Absolutely.”

  A laugh popped out. “I’ll keep the general population in mind and try to control myself.”

  He grazed my arm with his hand. “I know this case is personal to you. I know how important it is to Mary that Dante get justice. I know how important Mary is to you. I understand the stakes here, and I’m asking you to let me finish this. You have enough to do without meddling in a murder investigation, and I can’t do my job properly if I have to worry about what you’re getting into.”

  Meddling. He made me sound like a member of the Scooby-Doo gang. “I take issue with your word choices.”

  “Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

  I mulled that over. It was nice talking to Jake, but there were too many people around for me to relax. Bree and Tom always seemed to analyze every male/female interaction. “Would you like to come to my place after dinner?”

  He slid his eyes closed. “I can’t.” He reopened them with a look of sincerity. “I promised myself to spend the rest of the night back-tracing some credit card activity on a known alias of Horton’s. I can’t seem to get my hands on him directly, so I’ve decided to start hauling in his every known associate until his supply chain is cut off. To stay this far underground, he has to rely on others for everything. I’m going to take his support system out of the equation, one by one, until he’s forced to surface.”

  “Genius.”

  “Thanks. Rain check on the visit?”

  “Sure.” I pushed the irrational sting of rejection from my heart. He was busy. I was busy. “I have plenty to do anyway. Bree wants two hundred baby shower invitations printed, addressed and mailed immediately. Nate sent me a proposal packet to review for a REIGN contractor interview. Plus, I’ve got a surprise wireless network going live throughout Horseshoe Falls tomorrow. Technically, it’s live now, but I’m not sure how many people read their email last night.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That and my job-job.”

  “Another time, then.” He checked his phone and frowned. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Where?” I scooted around the kitchen island, close on his heels. “Is everything okay?”

  He darted into the dining room and dropped kisses on every woman’s cheek, shook hands with the men and congratulated Marvin and Grandma.

  She squeezed him to her chest. “Maybe Mia will be next.”

  I smacked my forehead and wobbled my glasses.

  “Maybe.” Jake glanced at me. “Talk about a lucky man.” He zoomed back to my side and kissed my cheek.

  When my lungs began to burn, I sipped in a little head-clearing oxygen. “Call me? Let me know what you find out about Horton?”

  “No. I’ll call, but you’re off the case. Remember? Self-control?”

  I followed him onto the porch. “We’ll see.”

  He gave me a dirty look as he climbed into his truck. “I’ll cal
l.”

  By the time his taillights disappeared around the corner, I had a new plan and its name was Lara. Last I’d heard, she handled everything at the office, set up Dante’s tee times, ordered his lunches and house-sat as needed. Lara knew everything, and it was time we got caught up.

  Chapter Nine

  I woke Monday morning feeling like Garfield and left the apartment feeling like Odie. Somewhere between my wakeup shower and second cup of coffee, I remembered the excellent news I’d shared with Horseshoe Falls and the early enthusiastic response. Residents who’d tried it loved the new community Wi-Fi. I’d saved their emails. My new network was a hit. I’d intended to provide service equivalent to the speed and quality they had inside their homes, but for some, I suspected, our wireless community service was better than what they had at home.

  I sprang from the elevator with a song in my step and Bree’s last-minute shower invitations in hand. They looked marvelous. Printed on upscale eggshell cardstock with embossed golden edges and pastel animals marching two-by-two to a waiting ark. Somehow having two children equated to Noah in Bree’s mind. She said she couldn’t explain it, and I probably wouldn’t have understood even if she could, but it made perfect sense to her. Regardless, the fancy invites were sealed, addressed, stamped and ready for the postman. So far, I was winning Monday.

  Groundskeepers peppered the Horseshoe Falls landscape, mowing lawns and tending to flower beds. A pack of black squirrels ran along power lines overhead. Hard to believe the black squirrels were once endangered in our area. The population had thrived and boomed behind our protective walls.

  I crossed the street with a smile. My dress was new. My shoes were adorable and I was ready for anything. I wasn’t alone in my go-get-’em attitude. The clubhouse lot was packed. Residents had scheduled more and more services before their day jobs since I’d added the online scheduling feature to our site. Golfers slid in for private lessons. Women had their hair done before big meetings. The number of morning massages had tripled.

  “Good morning, Marcella.” I greeted our public relations manager with a smile. “Did I make your job easier or what? People loved my surprise.” I helped myself to a disposable cup at the concierge desk and filled it with fresh coffee.

  Sunlight glistened through freshly washed floor-to-ceiling windows where Horseshoe Falls architects had outdone themselves bringing the outdoors in. I raised a hand through a cloud of dust motes shimmering like fairy dust on the sunbeams. The clubhouse was stone and wood, with an expansive marble atrium. A grand tribute to nature, the space was polka-dotted with bushy greenery and the occasional pint-sized bubbling fountain. My favorite part was the concierge desk. Free gourmet coffee on demand.

  “Oh, no, no.” She followed me to the desk. “The people are unhappy and that is all you. You had better drink that coffee and fix this thing.” Her thick Latina accent hit every syllable. Shades of pink lined her pretty olive skin.

  I stirred creamer into my coffee and pondered the distinct contrast between my reality and hers at the moment. Did she say the people were unhappy? As in not happy? No. They were thrilled. I probably had thank-you emails piling up. “They’re happy.” I made a big cheesy smile.

  The lines gathering on Marcella’s forehead deepened. She popped a hip and braced her hands in the deep curves of her waist.

  I’d studied body language online, but applying the reading to reality was tough. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, there is something wrong. The new network is down and the people are taking up pitchforks.”

  There. Now, I could try to fix it. Direct communication saved so much time. Except she’d made no sense.

  A quick scan of the surrounding area confirmed her statement. Employees and residents clustered outside the hair salon, steakhouse and groomers, scowling and holding their phones to the sky. “My network is down?”

  My network was down!

  “I’m on it.” I gave Marcella a weird salute and walked away at a clip, careful not to slosh hot coffee onto my hand. Why did I salute? Why did I do bizarre things? It was as if my body and mouth were sometimes disconnected from my brain. I’d never intentionally salute someone. I curtsied, on occasion, too. It was nuts.

  I ducked into the mailroom on my way to IT and waved to a girl in dress pants and a white blouse. “I need these to go out with the morning mail.” My gaze locked on a blue smear near her cuff. Probably ink from the packages. Hairspray would get that out. “I’ve already applied postage. They just need to be on their way.”

  She beamed. “Sure thing.”

  I longed to tell her about the hairspray but couldn’t. Bree said strangers shouldn’t give advice. Personally, I liked advice. Some of it was amazingly helpful. Some was just funny. Like the time we were leaving a luncheon and an older woman told Bree to drink more water because it helped eliminate bloat. That was useful and funny.

  I shut my office door behind me and fell onto the black ergonomic desk chair I loved. “So, what’s up with the interwebs?” I asked the empty room. I logged on to my laptop using the clubhouse Wi-Fi and tapped my toe. The clubhouse network was still available inside the building. I needed to shoot an email to employees about that. “Holy moly!” I lurched forward at the sight of my inbox. I’d never had so many emails at work. I scrolled through the lengthy list and clicked the arrow for the next page. “Crikey.”

  I scanned the top ten messages. Everyone was upset about the Wi-Fi. My bubble of happiness was officially burst. The community network hadn’t lasted twenty-four hours and people were in panic mode. Emailer Number Five wanted to know if this shoddy service was what he could expect moving forward. “Oh boy.” I spun my chair to clear my head. “It works.” I balked at the screen. “There’s just a little problem, which I will find and correct. We don’t stop believing automobiles are transportation if our cars have a problem. Come on, people.”

  I arranged to meet the groundskeeper and wrenched out of my chair. Something had stolen my thunder and I wanted it back.

  The boathouse was the central hub. I’d suggested Ohio Wiring set the access points and gateway there. Repeaters were hidden in trees, moving the Wi-Fi signal from the main access point throughout the community, thus creating a large mesh network where residents could pick up and maintain their signal anywhere in Horseshoe Falls. The fact the system had worked yesterday but not today was nonsensical. The fact it wasn’t one area or another meant there was an issue at the main access. Maybe the network cable had come unplugged.

  The boathouse was a gray Cape Cod—style building, trimmed in white and used for Horseshoe Falls’ seasonal storage. I supposed it got its name from its location near the lake. There weren’t presently and never had been any boats inside. The single-acre lake wasn’t big enough for boating. Though the occasional enthusiastic kayaker would offer introductory lessons from time to time and cover the water with brightly colored vessels for an hour, but that was the most action our lake had seen before Friday night.

  No sign of the groundskeeper yet. I tugged on the doors. Locked.

  My cell had full signal from the tower, so I searched for our new network. Found it. No bars.

  I shaded my eyes with one hand and peered into the trees. The hot summer sun stared back, forcing my gaze away. I blinked spots from my vision and circled the clubhouse.

  My toe caught on something in the grass and I yelped. Memories of the stiff, gross mouse came to mind. This time, fortunately, it was a hunk of inoffensive white vinyl. I lifted it for examination, then checked the boathouse for damage.

  My gaze caught on a hole in the underside of the boathouse roof.

  The increasing drone of a golf cart drew my attention. A man in khaki coveralls steered the vessel to my side and climbed out. “Hey. Mia, right? I’m Clive. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Hi, Clive. I found this hunk of white vinyl on the g
round and a hole in the overhang. It looks like it belongs up there.”

  He took the vinyl from my hands. “This soffit’s been down every morning since February. I say it’s squirrels. They probably holed up in the attic space for the winter.”

  I gave the roof a long look. “Do squirrels chew wires?” If something gnawed through the cable physically linked to the network, the repeaters would be useless. No signal to repeat.

  “Yep. They chew everything.”

  I eyeballed a line of black squirrels on a branch nearby. Jerks. “If I get the wiring repaired, can you keep them away from here?”

  “Lady,” he huffed. “I’m trying. Didn’t you hear me? I’ve been fighting this battle since February.”

  “And you’re sure it’s squirrels?”

  He shrugged. “Them or raccoons.”

  I pressed the heel of one hand to my forehead. “Can I take a look inside and see what’s happened?”

  Clive let me in. The space where Ohio Wiring positioned my router was stinky and hot with suspicious amounts of animal hair and acorns. The plastic coating on the cables was peeled back and the exposed wires were frayed.

  “Fine.” I walked outside and pulled in deep lungfuls of clean air while he locked up behind me. “I’ll get the wires repaired, and I’ll find out how to keep the wildlife away from my network if you can’t.”

  “Good luck. Let me know if you come up with something I haven’t thought of.”

  I dialed Ohio Wiring on my way back to the clubhouse and asked them to repair the main access point wiring. Next, I dialed Bernie and the head groundskeeper to let them know Ohio Wiring was coming and needed access to the community and boathouse.

  Back at my desk, I shot an email to the community apologizing for the Wi-Fi problem. I advised them to go back to whatever they did before yesterday for Wi-Fi and promised an update as soon as I knew more. I also let clubhouse employees know the building network was one hundred percent. They should use it when they were inside anyway.