The Trouble With Murder

by Catherine Nelson

  I docked the Lincoln and went to Stacy’s door. Two minutes later, a tall, athletic brunette opened it and peered out. She smiled as she pushed the screen door open.

  “Hi,” she said.

  I smiled and handed her a card I pulled from my pocket. “Hi. My name is Zoe Grey. I’m a leasing agent for White Real Estate and Property Management. Stacy Karnes applied for a lease a couple days ago, and I’m just doing a bit of background. Are you her roommate?”

  The girl stepped back and waved me in. “Come in. Yeah, I’m Kelsey. I’ve lived with Stacy since freshman year. I didn’t know she’d found a place.” The girl studied the card for a beat. I hoped she wouldn’t ask why I was working on a Sunday. Or dropping by in person. That would be awkward.

  Kelsey shut the door behind me, and I could feel the difference in temperature; the house was pleasantly cool. I followed her into the same living room and took up the same chair as my last visit. She settled in the same place Tina had. She set the card on the table then smiled at me.

  “So, how can I help?”

  “As part of the application process, I just need to ask a few questions of Stacy’s roommates. You’ve known Stacy quite a while. Did you know she was planning to move?”

  Kelsey seemed guarded, as if she was taking extra time to choose her words. She involuntarily shot a look through the open doorway that led to the rest of the house. I wondered again who else was home.

  “I knew she was thinking about it. But I thought she might wait until the lease was up.”

  “Do you know why she wants to move? She didn’t indicate she’d gotten a new job or anything on her application.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Another quick glance at the doorway. “It’s for personal reasons.”

  “I understand there are four of you here. Are any of Stacy’s other roommates here? I’d love to speak with them as well.”

  “Uh, sure. Well, I mean, Tina’s not here, but Ashley is. I can go get her.”

  “That’d be so helpful. Thank you. I can try to talk to Tina some other time.”

  Inwardly smiling at my good fortune, I waited while Kelsey went to fetch the third roommate. There was a brief silence followed by the sound of voices and associated footsteps growing closer until Kelsey reappeared in the living room with a short, blonde girl beside her. This new girl, Ashley, was blessed with blue bedroom eyes and pouty lips, all natural along with her blonde hair. She also had curves in all the right places. It was obviously she’d learned long ago how to exploit all her assets. Trailing her were three puppy-eyed, college-aged boys, and it was pretty clear what was on their minds.

  “I’m Ashley,” she said, following Kelsey to the sofa.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. I introduced myself again then gave her the same bullshit line I’d given Kelsey about completing Stacy’s application. “We were just talking about why Stacy’s looking for a new place. Is she having any problems? We like to know about these kinds of things before we sign anyone to a new lease, you understand.”

  Ashley shrugged. “Tina’s a bitch.”

  Whatever Kelsey had been tiptoeing around was obviously of no concern to Ashley.

  “Tina’s that way to all of us, but she is worse to Stacy. Been that way for a while now.”

  The trio of boys bobbed their heads up and down in confirmation. Even Kelsey was in agreement, though not quite so openly. It seemed possible she feared Tina, feared even the idea of this conversation getting back to Tina. Did one girl truly make their lives so miserable?

  “Honestly, we’ve all looked at moving out at one time or another,” Ashley went on. “I guess Stacy can afford it now. I know I can’t.”

  “Stacy hadn’t told any of you she’d found a place?” I asked.

  There were headshakes all around and a couple murmured nos.

  “Who might have known? Who would she have told?”

  I didn’t think her attack had been random, but I couldn’t explain why I felt that way. I guess I didn’t like the idea of violence happening anywhere for no reason. But that was only part of it.

  Ashley shrugged and looked to Kelsey, whose face was slightly blank. I wondered if the girl was good at whatever sport she played, because she seemed a little timid in the real world. But who could tell; maybe she was the best soccer or volleyball player in recent history.

  “Stacy has a lot of friends,” Ashley said. “And she’s close to her family. But I think if anyone knew, it was her boyfriend, Tyler. She told him everything.”

  “That’s true,” one of the boys piped up. “They’re really tight.”

  Great. The trail led me right back to bad-guy Tyler Jay. How convenient. The only problem was the more I thought about it, the more I doubted Tyler Jay had anything to do with Stacy’s attack. In fact, it seemed more likely he didn’t know anything about it. I got the feeling if he had, he’d have added another body to his resume, and Stacy would be sitting here in her living room right now.

  “Would she have told anyone else? One of her friends maybe?”

  “I would just be guessing,” Ashley said. “I only ever see Stacy when we’re both here, and she hasn’t been spending a lot of time here lately.”

  She looked at Kelsey. Kelsey shrugged.

  “That’s pretty much true for me, too,” she said. “I mean, we’d meet for coffee or lunch or something and talk, but I think she was, you know, kind of afraid, or maybe worried, about stuff she said getting back to Tina. Not that I would tell Tina anything, but still, I think she’s been keeping a lot to herself.”

  “Who are her closest friends?” I asked.

  “What does it matter?” Ashley asked. “I mean, who cares if she told someone she was looking at places to live?”

  Ashley wasn’t just a pretty face. Best not to push too hard.

  Changing tracks, I said, “I’ll speak to the landlord about her payment history and that sort of thing, but is there anything else I should know about Stacy as a renter? Any other problems or things that might come up?”

  “Look, Stacy is a freakishly good person,” Ashley said. “She doesn’t have any bad habits, she doesn’t ever do anything wrong, she doesn’t even swear. She’s a straight-A student, a perfect employee, and the best roommate. Sometimes I wonder if she’s actually human. If you don’t rent her a place, you’re a moron.”

  Their goddess had spoken. All three boys bobbed their heads again. Kelsey didn’t seem quite as sure this time.

  “Is Stacy’s boyfriend moving in with her?” she asked.

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  A brief flash of guilt. “No reason. I just know he’s had some trouble, you know, with the police, in the past.”

  Ashley rolled her eyes. “So what? He didn’t do most the shit they think he did, and even if he did, he’s crazy about Stacy. He would never, ever do anything to hurt her. And he would do anything she asked him to. He knows how lucky he is to have her.” She looked me square in the eye. “If he did move in with her, he wouldn’t give you or anyone else any trouble.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I was beginning to really like Ashley.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I stood. “Thank you so much for the information. I still need to speak to the landlord, but at this point I don’t see any reason why Stacy’s application won’t be approved.”

  Ashley stood and all three boys stood with her.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s just hope she lives long enough to enjoy it.”

  11

  I’d lost track of time at Stacy’s house. Jumping into the Lincoln, I gunned it for home. Of course, the Lincoln accelerates from zero to sixty at a whopping fourteen seconds, so I didn’t exactly make record time. Pezzani was at the curb when I floated into the driveway.

  I offered him a sail around town in the Lincoln, but he confessed he suffers from seasickness. Instead, we went in his red Ford Mustang. Not a fan of Mustangs myself, I couldn’t deny this car seemed to fit Pezzani somehow.

&n
bsp; “Where would you like to eat?” he asked as he reached the stop sign at the end of my street.

  He was dressed in jeans and a green shirt. He was either freshly showered or he kept a bottle of something really delicious-smelling stashed in the glove box.

  “How about the Olive Garden?”

  Ten minutes later we put our name in for a table. When we were seated, our waitress appeared almost immediately. She was short, five-three maybe, with short blonde hair secured in two pigtails, one below each ear. Her blue eyes were painted, and she wore dangly silver earrings. Her nametag read megan.

  “What can I get you to drink?” she asked after introducing herself and finishing a brief speech about specials.

  She smiled a blindingly white smile and nodded as we gave our order. “Take your time with the menu. I’ll be back with those drinks.”

  We ordered after our drinks arrived, and the girl hustled off again. The restaurant was busy, full of the sounds of conversation and laughter, the clinking of silverware and dishes. Delicious food smells were everywhere and I realized, as my stomach growled, I hadn’t eaten all day.

  Pezzani and I chatted, and I noticed it was easier, more relaxed, than it had been. I was still guarded, cautious, distant, but I wasn’t defensive. Surprisingly, I thought I could actually like him.

  Our dinner arrived and we dug in. Everything was delicious. When we were about halfway through, Megan came around to check in and refill our water glasses.

  “Hey, I was going to ask you,” I began. “Do you know Stacy? I think she works here.”

  Megan nodded, sadness in her eyes. “Yes. Do you?”

  “I just heard what happened to her,” I said solemnly. “It’s horrible.”

  “I know!” she gasped. “Stuff like that just doesn’t happen here, or at least it isn’t supposed to. My parents freaked. They wanted to fly out and pack up my stuff the next day.”

  Pezzani was patiently watching the exchange, amused.

  “I know,” I said. “I’m totally terrified to go out alone after dark. They still haven’t caught who did it.”

  “Do they even know who did it? Last I heard they didn’t know whether it was random or not.”

  “No, I know. But it has to be random, right? I mean, who would do something like that to Stacy?”

  I saw it in her eyes before she could completely play it off.

  “I have no idea,” she lied. “Stacy is a really great person.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” I said, then leaned forward and lowered my voice. “You know something! You know who did it! You have to tell the police. She could die.”

  “Shh!” she hissed, stepping forward and leaning toward me. “I don’t know who did it, I don’t. I just know she had this fight with another girl, Tina, who works here, okay? They were in the kitchen, and it almost came to blows. The manager almost fired both of them.”

  Pezzani shifted in his seat.

  “Tina, Stacy’s roommate?” I asked. “She works here?”

  “Yeah. Didn’t you know?”

  No, I didn’t know.

  Shit.

  It wouldn’t be good if Tina knew I was here. It would probably be worse if she knew I was asking about Stacy again. Who knew what kind of trouble she’d start if she saw me a second time.

  “Do you know what were they fighting about?” Pezzani asked, taking a sudden interest in our conversation.

  Megan shrugged. “I’m not really sure; I only saw the very end. Stacy was really upset, that’s all I know. I got the feeling Tina had done something, or maybe said something, but I missed most of it. The manager was pretty clear we weren’t to gossip about it, either. If anyone does know, no one is saying.”

  “But you think Tina had something to do with what happened to Stacy?” he asked.

  She shrugged again and stood up, uncomfortable. “I really don’t know. I mean, I hope not. Who wants to say they know a person who could do something like that? It’s sick.”

  She was right; it was sick.

  And she would be wise to wonder what would happen to her if she went around accusing Tina and it turned out Tina was capable of such a thing.

  The rest of our dinner was rather uneventful. In the car, Pezzani finally asked me about my interrogation. I explained about Stacy, but I omitted most of the details about my interest in who assaulted her and my genius plan to turn her boyfriend in for an easy fifteen grand.

  “So, what’s your interest?” he asked. “Are you trying to figure out who stabbed her?”

  “What? No.” Yes.

  “Right.”

  He parked at the curb outside the house.

  “Do you want to hang out for a while? The place is sort of a mess, and I don’t have any furniture to speak of, but I could plug in the DVD player or the stereo.”

  He laughed. “Who could turn down an offer like that?”

  We went to the porch and I opened the door. As soon as I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. A metallic scent I immediately recognized hung on the air, and the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I couldn’t tell if Pezzani had sensed anything amiss as he followed me in. I reached for the light switch beside the door and flipped it on, bathing the living room in bright overhead lighting.

  There, face down on the hardwood floor, was Derrick, the giant man I’d spoken to at Tyler’s mother’s house. His arms and legs were spread slightly to the sides, and a large dark-red pool of blood had spread around his torso. There were three bullet holes in his back.

  I froze. Pezzani stared over my shoulder.

  “You know him?” he asked casually.

  “Sort of.”

  “He’s dead.”

  _______________

  Pezzani started to call 911, but I stopped him and called Ellmann instead. Ellmann wasn’t exactly excited to hear from me. At least, not for the reason I was calling.

  “Is this some kind of joke?”

  I sighed. “Even I have standards; what kind of joke would that be? I’m serious. There is a dead man in my living room.”

  “I’m five minutes away. Don’t touch anything. In fact, wait outside.”

  The line went dead in my ear before I could reply, probably so I couldn’t argue. I put the phone back in my pocket.

  “We’re supposed to wait outside.”

  Pezzani shuffled out, me behind him. We sat on the porch step, waiting. Neither of us said much. Nothing like a dead body to change the course of an evening.

  I saw blue and red lights bouncing off the houses around us before Ellmann’s navy blue Charger pulled to a stop at the curb. He switched the lights off then climbed out of the car. I noticed he was surprised to see I wasn’t alone but worked to hide it, and he hid it well. Pezzani and I stood and moved off the porch as Ellmann approached.

  “How was dinner?” Ellmann asked, spying our leftovers.

  “Great, until now,” Pezzani answered innocently, unaware of the edge in Ellmann’s voice. “I have to admit, this is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me.”

  He offered his hand to Ellmann, introducing himself.

  “Detective Alex Ellmann. Pleasure.” His tone was slightly flat.

  “Alex, glad you could come. Zoe thought you were the man to call.”

  “It’s Detective Ellmann,” he said as he passed both of us and went into the house.

  He used a latex glove he’d pulled from his pocket to open the door. I caught the door behind him and held it with my elbow, peeking into the house. He stepped inside, glancing from the body to the parts of the house he could see from the doorway.

  “Heard anything since you got here?” he asked, reaching for the gun in the holster on his hip.

  “No,” I told him. “Why?”

  “Go back outside and wait there.”

  He drew the gun and moved slowly into the house. After a few steps he stopped.

  “I didn’t hear the door close.”

  “All right, all right,” I muttered, backing out of
the doorway and letting the screen door bang shut.

  Surprisingly frustrated at being excluded from the potentially dangerous search of the house for a murderer, I plopped back down on the step to wait. I heard a couple doors close and the occasional footstep, but I didn’t hear any yelling or screaming or gunfire. Seemed safe to say the house was empty. Aside from one large dead man who didn’t belong, that was.

  Ellmann emerged from the house, his phone pressed to his ear, and squeezed past me off the porch, walking back to his car. He disappeared from sight for a moment as he leaned into the trunk. When he reappeared again, he was no longer on the phone. He walked back to us carrying a clipboard and wearing a grim look.

  “Party’s about to start,” he said. “First of them will be here in a couple minutes.” He pulled a stack of forms from the clipboard and handed them to us. “Need you to fill these out. They’re witness statements.” He looked to me. “Unfortunately, we’re going to be here a while, and I’m not sure how long they will hold your house as a crime scene. Is there somewhere else you can stay?”

  I sighed.

  I’d just moved out of the only place I had to go. I’d been in my new place for a total of two days. I’d just bought a kitchen-full of groceries.

  “I’m not staying anywhere else,” I said defiantly. “This is my house.”

  “The dead body is in the middle of it, Zoe,” Ellmann said. “You won’t be able to get past the crime scene to the rest of the house. You can’t stay here.”

  “I’ll sleep in the kitchen and use the backdoor.”

  Ellmann sighed and pushed his hand through his hair.

  “Don’t put it past her,” Pezzani said.

  “I don’t,” Ellmann said. “That’s what scares me.”

  The first of what would turn out to be a dozen responders pulled to a stop at the curb beside Ellmann’s vehicle and hurried up the driveway. Ellmann directed him to begin canvassing the neighborhood. There were no blinds on the windows, and a large caliber gun had been used; someone should have seen or heard something.