by Jennie Marts
Jeremy paled at the implication. “No, not at all. Everybody liked Jim. Listen, we’re all just a bunch of techie nerds who work here. The most excitement we see is someone high scoring in Halo or leveling up in World of Warcraft. We all get along fine. I have no idea who could have done this.” He looked sadly at Jim’s desk.
The whole group turned toward Jim’s cubicle in time to see a short, dark-haired man holding a wad of paper towels, reaching to pick up the overturned cup from Jim’s desk.
Maggie couldn’t believe someone could be naïve enough to be trying to clean up a crime scene. At least it was only coffee that was spilled in the cubicle and not blood.
“Sir, you need to get away from there.” Mac’s deep voice rose, causing the rest of the room to fall silent.
The young rookie cop who had spoken with Jeremy earlier quickly moved toward the man, but he had already picked up the cup and was blotting at the spilled coffee on the desk.
Mac took three large strides and was beside the man. “Put the cup down and let go of the paper towels. What do you think you’re doing? This is a crime scene.”
“I know, but that coffee was spilled all over Jim’s desk, and he’s very careful about keeping his desk neat,” the dark-haired man said, still trying to blot at the spilled coffee.
The rest of their merry band had followed Mac to the cubicle. Maggie felt like she was in a group of reporters, all flocking to the next area of interest. Except she didn’t find this dweeby guy with the paper towels all that interesting. She wanted to find out more about the actual victim. How was he killed, and why did they think it was murder?
Jeremy introduced the man, who seemed to shrink under Mac’s intense gaze. He let go of the paper towels and stood wringing his hands, obviously distressed by all the attention. “This is Leonard Finch. He is one of my artists.”
Jeremy lowered his voice and leaned in toward Mac. “He’s a little OCD. He likes to keep things in the office neat.”
“Jim would hate that coffee spilled all over his desk,” Leonard repeated, a dark stain of color rising up along his neck. “It was getting all over his things.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Finch,” Mac said. “We’ll make sure the desk is all cleaned up when we’re finished here. For now, I need you to step back and let my officers finish up their work, okay?”
“Okay.” Leonard took a reluctant step backward. He reached to bring the sodden paper towels with him.
The young officer stepped in front of him and blocked his hand. “We got this,” he said.
A loud commotion had the group turning toward the front door of the office as a curvy blonde in her late twenties tried to push past the young cop that had stopped Jeremy earlier.
In an attempt to keep her from passing, the police officer had wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her from entering the room. His face was turning red from the effort and from the fact his arm was pressing against her middle, causing her extremely endowed bosom to push further out of her low-cut, clingy blouse.
Mac looked at Jeremy for confirmation.
He nodded. “It’s okay. She works here. That’s Charlotte Foster, the one who was dating Jim.”
“That’s Charlotte?” Mac’s eyebrows rose. He had obviously not expected this blonde bombshell to be working in an office primarily filled with engineers and pocket protectors. He waved at the officer to let her through.
She pushed forward, swinging both her purse and her hips as she made her way to them. Long blond hair fell in curly waves around her shoulders. Her makeup was perfect, and her lips shone a glossy shade of red. She wore a black pencil skirt and three-inch high heels, which contributed to the sway in her step. She knew she had the attention of most of the men in the room as she strode forward and threw her arms around Jeremy’s neck.
“Oh. My gosh. This is just terrible. I was the one who found him this morning. I came in to catch up on some work, and there he was, slumped over his desk. I thought he was asleep, but he was dead. It was just awful.” She looked up at him, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “How about you? Are you all right, Jeremy?”
Maggie watched as Jeremy awkwardly patted her on the back. She noticed she wasn’t the only one watching the exchange. Leonard seemed to be paying close attention as well.
Jeremy untangled Charlotte’s arms from around his neck. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. How are you holding up?”
“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest thing to be thinking of me.” She laid her head back on Jeremy’s shoulder, tightening her grip on his neck. “I just feel traumatized. I think I’ll have nightmares for weeks. I’m so glad I have a boss like you to turn to. It’s going to be hard, but we’ll get each other through this.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows at Jeremy, who tried again to extract himself from her grasp. Picking jury members had taught her to get a quick read on people, and this gal felt as phony as a three-dollar bill. And her acting skills were atrocious. Maggie just hoped that Jeremy could see through her poor performance and realize she was overacting her part in this drama.
Jeremy pulled Charlotte’s arms free of his neck and directed her toward Maggie. “Charlotte, I want you to meet someone. This is the woman I’ve been telling you about. Maggie Hayes, this is Charlotte Foster, one of my programmers.”
“And a friend.” Charlotte stuck both her bottom lip and her hand out, the former in an exaggerated pout and the latter in a weak handshake.
One of Maggie’s top ten annoyances was a limp handshake, but this woman was quickly working her way up to join the list. Maggie grasped her hand and gave it a firm squeeze, possibly taking a small amount of pleasure in the woman’s grimace of pain. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlotte. I’m sorry for your loss. This must be very upsetting for you.”
Charlotte looked Maggie up and down before tugging her hand back. “So you’re the girlfriend. The lawyer.” She said the words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth.
Who did this bleach blonde think she was? “Yes, that’s me. The lawyer girlfriend.” Maggie was surprised at how quickly she owned the term that minutes before she had shunned.
Everything about this woman screamed “meddling, conniving troublemaker” to Maggie. She looked to Jeremy, but he seemed oblivious to the manipulations of his employee.
“Hi. Hi, Charlotte,” Leonard said softly from beside Maggie.
She had almost forgotten that he was there. She watched him as he appeared to struggle with getting his next words out.
“How are you doing? Is there anything I can do for you?” Leonard gestured to the hallway behind them. “Can I get you some coffee from the break room or a cup of tea?”
“No thanks, Len. I’m good,” Charlotte answered offhandedly as she turned her gaze back to Jeremy.
Leonard turned, his shoulders slumped, and he trudged down the cubicle hallway.
As a lawyer, Maggie was very adept at reading body language and judging people’s feelings. Both the adoring look that Charlotte was giving Jeremy and the slouching plod of Len spoke volumes to Maggie’s sense of emotions. She glanced over and noticed the way Officer McCarthy was sizing up the players as well. Including her, if the appraising look he gave her now was any indication.
Mac turned his attention back to Jeremy. “Is there anything else you can think of that would help us determine what happened to Mr. Edwards? Anything unusual in his behavior? Any unfamiliar visitors stopping by? Changes in his work habits or hours?”
Jeremy shook his head. “No, nothing. I can’t think of any reason someone would want to hurt Jim. He was a good guy.”
“Well, if you can think of anything, let me know.” Mac fished a business card out of his front pocket and passed it to Jeremy.
“Do you need us to stick around for anything else?” Maggie asked.
“We’ll need to get Mr. Rogers’s fingerprints for comparison, but after that, you can go.” He gestured to the young rookie, who nodded and disappeared down the hall to the break r
oom. “Although we do have one loose end that you might be able to help with.”
That loose end was now dragging the rookie police officer back up the hallway. A massive dog covered in thick brown hair pulled at the leash and advanced straight for Maggie. The dog was a cross between a sheep dog and a Newfoundland, with expressive brown eyes and a long snout that was headed directly for Maggie’s crotch.
What was it about dogs and their need to sniff people in their private parts? Maggie blocked the dog’s nose and patted it on the head. It was wearing a blue collar with the Star Wars logo on it. A small plastic toy head of Chewbacca and a tag that read “Chewie” hung from a ring on its collar. “Where did this guy come from?”
Jeremy leaned down and ruffled the big dog’s neck. “This is Chewie. He’s Jim’s dog.”
“The victim must have brought him into work with him today,” Mac said. “The poor dog was lying on the floor by his side when we got here. We had a hell of a time getting him to let us take the body. It took two officers to get him leashed and locked in the break room.”
Aww. Maggie’s heart broke for the poor dog.
“The “victim’s” name is Jim. And he would sometimes bring Chewie in to work with him. Especially on Saturdays. He loved this dog.” Jeremy continued to pat the dog’s head.
Chewie sat down on Jeremy’s foot, panting loudly. A long line of drool dripped from his mouth onto Jeremy’s shoe.
“Do you know if Jim has any family in town or anyone we can call to come get the dog?” Mac asked.
Jeremy looked at Charlotte.
Her face took on a look of horror. “I am not bringing that disgusting beast home with me. I never even let Jim bring it over.”
Maggie looked around the room and noticed that suddenly everyone had a job that was requiring their full attention. Several people slipped from the room, and of the remaining few, not one person would make eye contact with Jeremy.
“We can’t leave him here,” Jeremy said. “What’ll happen to him?”
Mac shrugged. “One of my guys will take him down to the animal shelter. Hope someone from the vic—er, Jim’s family comes down to claim him.”
Chewie cocked his head as if listening to the discussion about his fate. He tipped his head back and let out a mournful howl.
Maggie watched Jeremy, knowing already what he was going to do.
Jeremy looked down at the big dog. “I guess you’re coming home with me. Is that all right with you, Chewie?”
The dog barked once, then settled down on the floor next to Jeremy, laying its giant head across his slobber-covered shoe.
Chewie let out a long sigh, and Maggie wasn’t sure whom she was falling for more in that moment—the dog or the man who volunteered to take him home.
Mac reached down and patted the dog on the head. “I just wish I knew what this dog saw. He was probably with him when Jim was murdered.”
“Poor dog,” Jeremy said. “I’ll get my fingerprints done, then I’ll just take him back to my place. Unless you need anything else.”
“Yeah, there is one other thing you can do,” Mac said.
Oh geez. The care and feeding of one giant, mangy mutt wasn’t enough. Maybe he wanted them to bring a homeless man home too.
The cop smiled at Maggie and gestured to Mabel and Edna. “It’s fine if you want to get out of here. Can you just take Sherlock and Holmes with you?”
##
Being so close to death had Maggie thinking about life and the new life that she had now. The drive back had been somber, and her thoughts had been filled with memories of her past and all the changes that had happened in the past year.
Maggie took in the sight of her two-story home as she and Jeremy pulled up to the curb. She and her ex-husband, now referred to as Chad-the-Cheater, had been so excited when they bought the house. Maggie had just moved up in her law firm, and Chad had found the house in a newer housing development with great parks and good schools for the boys.
“It’s all about location, location, location,” Chad had told her as he led her around the new house. A smile beamed from his face as he opened doors to show her the walk-in closets and the garden tub in the master bedroom. Chad’s smile had been contagious, and she could hear the boys laughing and their sneaker-clad feet running around the tiled floor of the kitchen.
“It’s a buyer’s market right now,” Chad had said, using the lingo of his new profession as a real estate agent. With his charm and good looks, she’d known he would be successful in any type of sales job. She’d loved him so much, and she had loved the house. They bought it, and Drew started kindergarten that year.
Maggie looked at the house now as she stepped out of Jeremy’s SUV. Chad was always thinking about curb appeal, and he’d worked tirelessly on landscaping the yard and putting in shrubs and flowerbeds. Maggie could see that a few leaves of the tall aspen trees Chad had planted were just starting to turn gold, and a butterfly alighted in the full purple stalks of the late-summer blooming butterfly bush that grew in front of her porch.
She remembered Chad being so proud of that yard, and she huffed as she thought of the upscale condo he and his Hooters girl, Sapphire, lived in now. With its modern steel and glass décor and manicured lawns, poor Chad had no yard to lovingly care for.
Poor Chad, my foot. He’d been more devoted to that lawn than he ever had been to her or their marriage.
She shook her head to clear the images of Chad-the-Cheater. Why was she thinking of her past when her future was walking her to the front door?
She looked over to Jeremy. He seemed lost in his own reverie of thoughts. Poor guy had just lost one of his favorite employees. A guy he had considered a friend. She reached out and took his hand. “Hey, you okay?”
He blinked and shook his head. Smiling warmly down at her, he squeezed her hand. “Yeah, I’m all right. Just sad, I guess. And confused. Jim was a really nice guy. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt him. I’m really gonna miss the guy.”
They stopped in front of Maggie’s front door. She slipped her arms around him and pressed her face to his chest. “I’m really sorry.”
He tightened his arms around her then slid his hand under her hair to cup her neck as he tilted her face up to his. “Thanks for coming in to the office with me. I really needed you with me today.”
Maggie’s breath caught as she looked into Jeremy’s dark brown eyes. He was so sincere and open with his feelings for her. He said he needed her. Chad wouldn’t admit to needing her if his hair was on fire and she was holding a bucket of water.
Even though they had already been dating for about a month now, he was still a perfect gentleman. He opened doors for her and walked her to her front step and always kissed her good night. He knew what a fragile state she was in and seemed content to just be in her presence and take care of her. The few times they had been alone, she knew that he desired her, but he had held back and let her take the lead, knowing she needed to take things slow.
After eighteen years with the same person, she was still getting used to the touch of another man’s hand on the small of her back and the feel of different lips on hers.
A warmth spread through her as that other man now leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. She tightened her arms around him as he drew her closer and deepened the kiss. Jeremy’s hand slid up to grasp a handful of her hair, and he pulled her tighter to him.
His mouth was sweet with the tang of spearmint gum, and Maggie melted into his arms as his lips ravaged hers. He shifted and his mouth moved to trail kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. Her very core tingled as he pressed his head next to hers and breathed, “Oh Maggie,” into her ear.
A ripple of tingles ran up her spine as his breath caressed her ear. Then his head dropped to her shoulder and his grip on her waist tightened.
She could feel the mixed emotions running through him as she stood on her front porch and just held on to him. She hadn’t known Jim that well but had heard Jeremy t
ell enough stories about his office to know that he liked the man.
“I should go,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly.
Maggie touched his cheek and held his gaze for an extra heartbeat. “Call me if you need me.”
He took her hand from his cheek and gave it a squeeze. “I will,” he said, before turning and heading down the driveway toward his car.
The back window of his Toyota 4Runner was down, and Chewie’s massive head hung out the open space. The dog gave a quick bark, which Maggie took as a goodbye. Although it easily could have meant “you have a nice lawn,” or “please don’t leave,” or “hey, look, a squirrel.”
Maggie pulled her keys from her purse, unlocked the front door, and let out a deep sigh as she stepped into her front room.
Before she could finish the sigh, her eyes narrowed, and she looked skeptically around the room. Something felt off.
Nothing seemed outwardly amiss. The burgundy leather sofa was neat; the striped throw pillows lay against one padded armrest. The coffee table held a book filled with recipes she would never make, which lay artfully arranged next to a Pottery Barn candelabra holding a thick cream-colored candle. The sounds of the latest video game could be heard faintly drifting in from the living room, hidden on the other side of the kitchen.
Everything seemed tidy, as usual, but Maggie detected a new scent in the air. Actually, an old scent, a very familiar old scent of Polo and Irish Spring.
It couldn’t be! A different kind of sigh escaped her as she caught sight of the one thing out of place in the room. A large, black duffle bag sat in the kitchen doorway, a Miami Dolphins bumper sticker splayed across one seam and the zipper bulging against a light blue t-shirt trying to escape.
Chad-the-Cheater was back.
Chapter Three
Maggie’s teeth clenched as she set her purse down on the sofa. Before she could speak, the click of tiny toenails and a pair of too-large feet could be heard as Dylan and her Scottish terrier, Barney, came bursting through the kitchen door.