“Oh, there you are. Get my message?” Grace asked.
TJ nodded, saying, “What’s this about a warning?”
Myers handed the detective an evidence bag with the envelope and paper Grace had found on her windshield. “Here it is, TJ.” He sat back, winked at Grace, and waited for orders.
“Grace, I let you out of my sight for just a day or two and this is what happens,” said TJ, smiling. “All right. Come back to my office so you can tell me about this.” Myers looked moderately disappointed, a situation Grace remedied by waving at him over her shoulder.
She followed TJ, still thinking about her talk with Bob Godina. TJ unlocked her office door, pointing to a chair, and Grace sat down, leaving her coat on.
“Now,” said TJ, leaning back in her chair with her feet up on her favorite desk drawer footrest, “what’s happening at the high school? Where did this come from?” she asked, holding up the letter in the plastic evidence case.
“I talked to Bob Godina.” Her face was flushed and she pulled her chair closer to the desk. “Oh, TJ, he remembered a conversation Evan Harrington might have been thinking of when he called me. A group of people in his prep period discussed poisons. Poisons, TJ!” Grace related the details of Godina’s story, ending with the teacher’s opinion that Evan Harrington could never have received a bad evaluation.
“Actually,” said TJ, thoughtfully, “the evaluations are puzzling. Not certain yet exactly how they fit in. The evaluation process simply keeps coming up.”
“Remember Liz Hardy said she’d received some note about her husband’s infidelity? Well, this note to me could be like the one she described. It has letters cut from a magazine like the one Liz received, warning her of her husband’s affair. I thought it might have fingerprints.”
TJ smiled. “Good thinking.”
Grace beamed.
“I’ll send it in to AFIS.”
“Which is?”
“The Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Fingerprints are sent in to the state’s software database, called AFIS; then the software checks any prints against their system. First, though, I need to have one of our guys pull up the prints from your note.”
“And TJ—”
“Yes? What else?”
“You never really saw the note Liz claims to have received, right?”
“Correct. Do you think, in this small town, she might have figured the affair out without the note? Something had to precipitate her call to Seth Atkins.”
“True. Or she got the note and it gave her the idea for this one.”
TJ thought for a moment. “Do you think this was Liz?”” She held up the evidence bag.
“Her car was not parked in the lot when I went into the school. But when I came out it was. How simple it would be to stick it under my windshield wiper. If only one person is responsible for this mayhem, my note may contain the identifying print. The message on this paper is just your standard, ‘Shut up. Keep away from the high school’ kind of warning. Do you think you might be dealing with two killers—one, like Liz, on the spot—to kill her cheating husband, and another to kill Evan for—oh, whatever reason?”
TJ didn’t answer. Then she said, “Perhaps you should actually heed the warning.”
It was quiet for a moment as Grace thought about this. TJ took her feet down from her desk drawer and leaned over toward Grace. “Before I talked to Superintendent Johnson, I had a little discussion with Seth Atkins. He has anger issues and had a school key, which I now have.”
“I told you what Marilyn said.”
“That’s precisely why I needed to see him at home. I saw his car in the driveway. It was a dark sedan with the correct license plate that was parked at the school lot the afternoon of the murder.”
“Oh, the one Del saw.”
“Seth’s a mess. Not the clean-shaven, well-dressed pharmaceutical rep you see at the doctors’ offices. He was sloppy, unshaven, and obviously had been drinking.”
Grace thought for a moment. “But Hardy’s murder was more than two weeks ago.”
“Exactly. Between his wife’s affair and possibly killing two people, he’s a mess.”
“How do you see that?”
“Think about it, Grace. He’d just found out about his wife’s affair. He was drinking from Friday on. Stealing her school keys, he copied them Saturday morning, and his car was spotted in the school parking lot. He says he changed his mind and didn’t go into the building. When I talked with Marilyn, I realized she was genuinely afraid of him—said she’d never seen him so angry at her or John Hardy.”
“Are you going to arrest him?”
“I’m debating it. We don’t have his fingerprints in Hardy’s office. Marilyn would never have seen his car that day because her room is in the back of the building. He could have gotten in and done the deed while Del was cleaning elsewhere, or even talking to Marilyn. It would have been gutsy or stupid of Seth Atkins.”
“But why would Hardy drink something the husband of his lover gave him?”
“I’m working on that one.”
“And where would he get the poison?”
“That too. He is, you know, connected to lots of pharmacies and chemical companies.”
“Why would he kill Evan Harrington?” Grace asked.
TJ stopped to think a moment. “Remember I told you I thought Evan was lying to me about something?”
“Yes.”
“And remember you told me he’d been in the school the day of Hardy’s death?”
“Yes,” said Grace. “But he told me he was only there a few minutes.”
“Maybe that isn’t completely true. What if he saw either Seth’s car or Seth himself in the building? He might have assumed Seth was there to pick up Marilyn or talk to her. He’d even assume she let Seth in. Then later he put two and two together.”
“Could be that’s what he remembered and wanted to tell me. If Seth had a key, he might have come into the building at any time starting that day, even the night Evan was pushed down the stairs.”
“So,” said TJ. “Now you see where I’m headed.”
Grace nodded her head slowly.
TJ continued, staring up over Grace’s shoulder as she thought. “So, we have Liz Hardy with a two million-dollar motive, anger at being betrayed, on the spot during her husband’s murder, with a knowledge of pharmaceuticals. And boy, was she angry at him!”
“She may also have a new boyfriend in just two weeks.”
“What?”
“Her lawyer.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting too. She’s a perfect suspect.”
“Then we have a nutsy drama teacher who left her last job quickly for some reason, maybe had problems with Hardy, has great evaluations despite that, and a glowing recommendation from her last school. She seems odd and eccentric, but she doesn’t really have any motive or opportunity or means. She’s just spreading silliness and maybe smoking a little illegal weed, according to my neighbor.”
“Yes, I agree, Grace. Everything checked out on her last school and credentials. Finally, we have Seth Atkins, the other part of the betrayed duo. Big motive, anger issues, possible drug supply connections, a key to the building, on the spot when Hardy was murdered, and certainly smart enough to make it happen. But no fingerprints. I checked. He’s in the system because of his job, but we didn’t find his prints in Hardy’s office.”
“Maybe he wore gloves?”
“Maybe.”
Grace leaned back, using her hands to gesture. TJ would not be happy. “I’m going over there tonight to take photographs of the technical rehearsal for the play this weekend. No one will be at the rehearsal but Ellen Terry and the play cast. Should be safe enough. Lots of people around.”
TJ shook her head, letting out a deep breath. “Grace, if you have to do this, call me before you go and call me again when you leave the school. Got it? No texting. Other people could do that with your phone. I want to hear your voice.”
Grace
lowered her eyes and sighed. “Yes, TJ. No problem.” She picked up her purse. “Now, I’m going to meet Jeff for lunch. Would you like to come along?”
“Nah. I think I’ll stay here while they work on this print. Could come back quickly. But, Grace, I’m glad to see you smile again. I thought you’d lost it.”
“Lost what?”
“Your smile.”
“It’s back. I’ll call you before I go tonight.”
Grace sat across from Jeff Maitlin at The Depot. She had ordered a Santa Fe salad while Jeff, after much deliberation, ordered a Porter’s Delight. She watched him check out the décor, every so often saying hello or waving at someone. Her heart warmed. Their food arrived on the arm of Annette Callahan. Grace remembered the day Annette came to school with short, green hair, the product of a late-night attempt to bleach it blond. It must have grown out quickly, just in time to not be green for St. Patrick’s Day.
Grace moved her fork through the salad, checking on the ingredients.
“What’s in the salad?” asked Jeff. “Looks good.”
“It appears to be three different kinds of beans, red pepper, olives, a little onion, chilies, cheese, maybe sour cream, and some seasonings,” Grace said. She lifted a salad-filled fork to her mouth, tentatively chewed it, swallowed, and pronounced it good. “How is yours?”
The Porter’s Delight was a French dip sandwich on sourdough bread with beef broth for a dipping sauce. Jeff took a bite off the end, thought about it, swallowed it, and looked at Grace. “Great! This beef is so tender. Good thing your students decided to start this place. The food is amazing.”
Grace examined his face, deciding the dark circles and drawn cheeks were somewhat better, more relaxed than when he’d suddenly appeared at the Register. He’d been home for almost two days and had spent much of his time catching up at the newspaper. She thought they had an unspoken agreement to talk about serious topics once he was more rested. Despite his reticence before he left, Grace hoped he was going to be more forthcoming about his past.
“So, how do the past issues of the newspaper look? Have you had time to see what we’ve done while you’ve been gone?” she asked.
Jeff wiped his mouth with his napkin, swallowed, and said, “I think you all don’t need me. It appears you have a well-oiled machine going, because I studied the coverage of the murders, which was amazing, especially when you realize you were in the thick of it. Do you think TJ is any closer to wrapping it up?”
Grace thought for a moment, a quizzical look on her face. “TJ doesn’t always confide in me, but lately I’ve noticed she’s been humming again.”
“Humming?”
“Yes, humming,” she said, smiling. “It’s what she does when she is about to put the pieces together to catch the bad guy. Listening to her, she has only days to go before she makes an arrest.”
Jeff smiled, putting his hand over Grace’s on the table. “You and TJ are awfully good friends. In fact, you can practically read each other’s minds. I know you need time to be with your pals. I’m not saying I won’t be a little jealous—oh, double negative. Let me start over. I’ll always be a little jealous of your friend time, but I also know, after being alone so long, that I, too, need a bit of space. We aren’t exactly teenagers in love, so I think we read ourselves quite well. We can figure it all out. I know we can, Grace.”
“Maybe make it up as we go along?”
“Exactly.” He stopped watching her so earnestly, took his hand back, and attacked the bowl of salad sitting next to his plate. “I get this feeling TJ doesn’t quite trust me. I understand. Over time, maybe I can earn her confidence. You know, while I was gone I had time to think about us. I’ve never made a long-term commitment to anyone, although I was close once. Years ago.”
“What scared you off?” Grace asked, her voice skeptical.
“Oh, I don’t know now. It’s been a long time ago. I think our goals weren’t really the same. It’s what I love about you, Grace. I’d be perfectly happy to settle down in this little town for the rest of my life. It’s exactly the existence I want. To think I found you here in the same place is just—well, it’s just perfect.” The last he said slowly, but Grace could see the emotion and sincerity on his face and in his eyes.
“We don’t know each other very well,” she said. “Maybe, given time, we can fix that.”
He smiled, “Well, maybe we know each other a little better after the other night.”
Grace felt her face get hot and realized she was blushing. Geez, she was a grown woman, fifty-seven. This was ridiculous. She looked up at him, saying, “Yes, you’re right. Frankly”—she gazed around at the other tables of people who were ignoring their conversation—“I wasn’t sure after all this time I could remember anything about making love. It’s been such a long time.”
“I think it came back quite well,” he replied, making her blush all over again.
“I’m sure that practice makes perfect.”
“I believe you’re right. We’ll have to see if it’s true.”
She looked down at her salad, poking at the olives in the bowl. “Might be better to change the subject, since we’re sitting around a lot of people, people who know me.”
“That’s what’s so fun,” he said, “watching you get all squirmy.” He placed a finger under her chin to lift her blushing face. “What else should we talk about?”
Grace glanced over his shoulder, thinking about an answer. “My neighbor, Ginger Grant, is going to be one of the leads in the class play this weekend. Want to go?”
“Oh,” he said, “you mean like a real date?”
She smiled and said, “Yes, Mr. Maitlin. Is it fine, in this day and age, for me to ask you?”
“I believe so. Sure. Friday night?”
“I have two tickets.”
“It’s not going to cost me anything? That’s even better.”
Grace looked up pensively, rubbing her lips together. “Well, I didn’t exactly say that.”
Jeff chuckled. “I thought we changed the subject.”
“Oh, you’re right. How about dinner at my house, the play, and then…we’ll figure out the last act.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan.” He laid his napkin beside his plate. Grace thought he was wrestling with what he did or didn’t want to say. “Grace, I can’t tell you all the emotions going through my head when you sent your text.”
“Deb sent it.”
“What?” His face and voice both reflected his astonishment.
“In the interests of total disclosure, yes, Deb sent it. I wrote it, however. I meant to send it. Before I could hit the button, she reached over my shoulder. I think this means you’ve officially been voted in.”
Jeff Maitlin sat back, laughter erupting from his usually calm face. “I can see I may have underestimated how difficult it’s going to be to court only one woman. I obviously have to win over the entire group.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard. Jill might be the most difficult nut to crack. If you can talk numbers to her or go jogging with her in the morning, she might crack.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Let’s go on Friday night to the play, but I might have to meet you there.”
“That would work. I want to watch Ellen Terry, the drama coach, in action. She’s a strange character herself. And then—”
“—after the play?” He smiled. “I’ve already talked to Janicke about temporarily halting the downstairs repairs while stepping up the front bedroom so I can move in officially. We’ll see how soon it happens. I’d like to move in, despite the work. I’m gone most of the time during the day, anyway. It seems silly to pay rent at my apartment when I own a small piece of this huge house. At this point, the bank owns all but a board or two.”
Grace picked up his hand. “I’ll take that as a nightcap at my house.”
“What was it you said? Oh, yes. ‘We’ll make it up as we go along.’ ”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“So? What did he s
ay about where he’s been?” Lettie asked, while she placed a plate with a sandwich on the kitchen table. It was Monday afternoon, and Grace figured she was in for an interrogation.
“Seriously? You haven’t already heard from your network of spies?” Grace took the bottle of milk from the refrigerator, filled a glass, and sat down at the kitchen table while Lettie ate.
“My network occasionally has a problem when no one is talking. Was I right? FBI? CIA? Witness protection?”
Grace laughed. “What can I tell you? He’s from New York.”
Lettie gave a huge “Humph!” holding out her hands. “Nothing. You tell me nothing I don’t know,” Lettie said, sitting down across from Grace. “The man is mysteriously missing for three weeks with—nothing!” She picked up her sandwich, but before she took a bite she added, “But I do notice Todd Janicke is back at Maitlin’s future bankruptcy asset on Grove Street with several additional trucks of guys. Do I assume Maitlin is back to stay? Or are they taking it all apart again?”
“Back to stay.”
“Does this mean you’re moving out of here sometime soon?” Lettie blurted this out without thinking.
Grace saw the anxious look in Lettie’s eyes. “Why? Are you worried? I thought we’d had this discussion before when I explained I was sticking right here.”
“Well,” Lettie paused. “Let’s say I noticed two breakfast plates in the dishwasher from sometime this weekend, and I didn’t figure one belonged to TJ. See, if you’d followed my advice, leaving the dishwasher out of the kitchen remodeling, you would have washed them yourself, and I’d be none the wiser.”
Grace watched her sister-in-law with amusement. “Lettie, how many years have I spent all alone since the children left?”
“You know,” Lettie said, her brain taking off in a different direction, “the drug companies have some kind of new drug out for women which is supposed to help their—their drive. Mildred at the bakery says Florence Tilderson tried it and almost had a heart attack.”
“What?” She gave Lettie an incredulous look. “Florence Tilderson is eighty-nine if she’s a day. What was she thinking, for goodness’ sake?”
Death Takes No Bribes: An Endurance Mystery (Endurance Mysteries Book 3) Page 18