“I can’t say anything for sure, but I need you to tell me everything that happened here tonight after you arrived.”
“You already know most of it,” she admitted.
“I’m aware of that, but any detail you give might help.” His face was stern, searching her for any sign of a clue as to what might have happened. Sonja had to admit, she’d grown fond of not having to see that expression. She didn’t like the potential for judgment behind those eyes.
“You don’t seriously consider me a suspect, do you?” she asked flat out, the thought rising in her mind.
“It’s my job to look at every possible angle presented here,” he reminded her.
Pushing down her own stubborn pride, and realizing Frank was just doing what needed to be done, she agreed. “Right. I’m sorry. I should know better.”
“Now, did you see anyone else tonight, anyone at all?”
Sonja scowled as she thought about this. “No one except for the janitor.”
Frank sighed. Sonja knew it wasn’t looking good for the poor janitor, if that was who she saw.
“And you’re sure it was Decker Partle?”
“I can’t say. I’d have to see him again.”
“I don’t see who else it could be. You may need to identify him in a line-up.”
“Got it.”
He hummed quietly, in an attempt to concentrate on the facts. “Seems pretty cut and dry,” he noted skeptically.
“Too cut and dry,” she agreed.
“You don’t think that prank from earlier was a warning, do you? Could the person who hung up that mask in the closet really be the killer too?”
“It’s possible.”
At that moment, Sonja was wondering if she could use her spiritual sensitivity to feel things out. She knew Frank had asked her to do a sort of psychic sweep of the building, but she doubted he’d want that now. As usual, he’d insist that she stay as far away from the investigation—and from danger—as possible.
“Is there any other way in and out of the building?” Sonja asked out of curiosity, wondering if it would be possible to still do a walkthrough without having to go through Frank.
“Doubtful, but we’re checking into it. This school usually keeps all the doors chained at night.”
“Except for the front, because the principal was still here.”
“But it was still locked, correct?” he asked, trying to be one hundred percent clear on everything that had happened.
She nodded. “So, our killer would have come in and out through the front,” Sonja wondered out loud, glancing toward the glass doors and out into the parking lot. “Either they had a key or Principal Heins let them in.”
Suddenly, she remembered something.
“What? What is it?” Frank asked, having watched her expression change.
“Cherry. Cherry Heins.”
“The victim’s wife?”
“Her car was in the parking lot when I arrived.”
Frank turned and looked out to the lot. “Where?”
Sonja glanced at the spot where it had been parked earlier. “It’s gone.”
CHAPTER 7
* * *
The foam coffee cup was warm in Sonja’s hand as she climbed into her van the next morning. She’d drank two cups before walking out the door of her Victorian-style cottage home on the old Smith Estate. Just like the day before, the travel cup was for Frank.
Sonja knew her boyfriend would be dead tired from the night’s activities, so planned to swing by the middle school and make sure he had some liquid energy to help him finish up his crime scene investigation.
The remainder of the investigating would take place all around Haunted Falls as Frank tracked down teachers, friends, and family to figure out what had happened the night before.
Most importantly, Frank needed to find that janitor, Decker Partle.
Driving into the school parking lot, Sonja was surprised to see swarms of students milling around the parking lot. It appeared that the previous evening’s events hadn’t made the rounds yet. Sonja was sure the school would be closed for the day, but the parents probably hadn’t been contacted in time.
The two police cruisers parked near the entrance were reminders of the murder that had taken place.
Parking her van on the far side of the lot away from the main doors, Sonja grabbed the coffee and stepped out. Another van pulled up beside hers, the sliding side door opening and two young boys climbing out. Sonja instantly recognized Sam and could only assume the smaller boy was his younger brother.
She wondered if they, or any of the other students, knew what had happened to their principal. It was a delicate situation, to say the least. Should she tell them? She wasn’t sure it was her place to share the information.
“Morning, Sonja,” a woman’s voice echoed from the interior of the van.
Turning, she spotted Tanya Sander waving from the driver’s seat with the window down. The woman had a jolly demeanor with a slightly round face. She wore a deep red lipstick and had her hair was cut into a bob that seemed to scream of the nineteen-twenties.
“Hi, Tanya,” she said, walking up to the van’s open window.
“Hiya, Ms. Reed,” Sam exclaimed with a smile.
It was growing clearer and clearer that no one had been told about the murder. After all, how could they? It had only happened the night before.
“This is my brother, Pete.”
“Hi, Pete,” Sonja waved.
The boy, clearly much shier than his older brother, turned his eyes to the ground.
Tanya chuckled. “You’ll have to excuse him, he’s not nearly as outgoing as Sam is, but he’s a sweet boy, nonetheless.”
Sonja nodded, turning back toward the boys. “Pete, my name is Sonja.”
The boy gave a nervous half wave of recognition. “Your brother comes to my diner on Fridays to play games and you’re always welcome to come, too.”
The only response was a little nod.
“We better get to class,” Sam admitted sharply, grabbing his brother’s hand and dragging him off without another word. Sonja held out a hand toward them, almost wanting to tell them to not bother, but her voice stopped in her throat.
Tanya laughed again. “Don’t mind them. Sam just doesn’t like the idea of his brother playing games too.”
“Sibling rivalry?”
“Oh, they love each other, but Sam does tend to get protective of his personal things—toys, activities, that kind of stuff.”
Not having siblings of her own, Sonja didn’t completely understand, but she got the jist of the situation.
“So, what are you doing here this morning, Sonja? I didn’t think you had any kids of your own.”
“You’re right. I don’t. I was just dropping off some coffee for Frank,” she held up the cup. Suddenly, she realized what she had said. She’d just admitted that the sheriff of the town was at the school—which wasn’t a normal occurrence. Of course, the cars parked in the front were enough of a giveaway on their own.
Tanya’s smile drooped to a stern line of curiosity. “The sheriff? He’s here this morning?” she asked, peering around Sonja and noticing the police cruisers for the first time. It was also becoming more apparent that none of the children were being let inside.
Sighing, she leaned in on the window with both arms. “I’m guessing no one has heard yet.”
“No. Heard what?”
Sonja hesitated on her answer, trying to think of way out of telling Tanya that Principal Heins was dead. “Oh, it’s nothing really.” She waved a dismissive hand.
Tanya’s mouth drooped into a frown. “Don’t tell me it has something to do with that darned principal?”
Sonja’s eyes widened, a little surprised that she had pinpointed the victim.
“It is him, isn’t it?” she gasped, having read Sonja’s expression. “He’s been making my boys lives a living nightmare ever since he came on as principal.”
Sonja couldn’t help
but raise an inquisitive eyebrow at this comment. “You didn’t like him?”
Tanya shook her head. “Not one bit. The man was always coming up with arbitrary rules and regulations to make things harder on the students. Sam is resilient, but Pete has come home crying most every day so far. He gets teased, bullied, and picked on because he is shy, but when I brought it up to Principal Heins, he made it sound like it was Pete’s fault for not trying harder to be social.”
“Seriously?” Sonja asked, appalled by this new development.
“I’m one hundred percent serious. Did you hear what happened with the Halloween party?”
“I did. I was asked to cater the Harvest Festival, myself.”
“Harvest Festival,” she scoffed with a sickened tone in the back of her throat. “I can appreciate he has his opinion on the holiday, but does he have to punish the kids because of it?”
“I’d heard you were advocating to bring the party back.”
“Darn right, I am.”
Sonja rubbed her lips together in thought. “I’m honestly a little surprised you’re fighting so hard for the Halloween party, I mean, what with everything that happened two years ago with Sam.”
“Oh, boys will be boys, Sonja. Sam found a little girl he liked and ran off to find her. There’s no real crime in that.”
Remembering all the fear around the two missing kids that year, Sonja couldn’t wholly agree. Yet, she also understood the desire to still have a Halloween.
“The boys, and all the other kids, deserve a proper Halloween—not some ridiculous Harvest Festival. We aren’t some small farming community. We don’t have a harvest here.”
“I can completely see where you’re coming from.”
“And it’s that Principal Heins who is ruining it for everyone. That man is no good as an educator, I tell you. If the sheriff is here today, I hope it’s to arrest that man. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it turned out he was involved in something illegal.”
Sonja bit her lower lip and clasped her hands together, trying to get the confidence to say what needed to come next. “Well, not exactly.”
Tanya glanced over at the police cars and back at Sonja. “What else could it be?”
Sonja shook her head. “It’s nothing, really,” she lied.
Tanya raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Sonja. I know that look. You know something you’re not telling me.”
She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but it looked like she didn’t have much of a choice. She’d walked right into this one. “It’s worse, I’m afraid. He’s been murdered.”
There was a loud gasp as Tanya placed a hand on her chest in shock. “Good heavens. You’re joking.”
“I wish I were, Tanya.”
“Murdered?”
“Yeah.”
The mother slumped down in her seat, her face flushed. “I feel awful, just awful. Here I was sitting around bashing on the man while he’s lying dead somewhere.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. You were just expressing some concerns.”
“I mean, yes I didn’t care for the man, but he didn’t deserve to die. Good gracious, who did it?”
Sonja shrugged. “I couldn’t really say.”
“I certainly hope he catches whoever did it.” She shivered.
CHAPTER 8
* * *
After finishing up with Tanya (and telling her to stick around in case the school really was shut down), Sonja headed for the school and up the front steps. The front steps were cluttered with students huddled around in groups. However, unlike the normal everyday excitement that was usually present, there was a strange hush over everyone.
The doors were being guarded by one of the deputies, and it appeared he had his hands full answering questions and shuffling parents and students along.
A quiet hum of chattering came from various groups of friends, all likely discussing rumors around what had happened to the Principal.
Spotting the trio of boys (along with Sam’s little brother) Sonja realized their demeanors were something quite different from the day before.
Sam, in particular, looked sickly pale—with a slight hint of green in his cheeks.
Sonja decided to talk to them and see if they were okay. “How are you guys doing?”
They all jumped slightly, surprised by her presence. “M-Ms. Reed. We’re fine, just fine,” Dillion sputtered.
“Sam?” Sonja pressed.
“Fine. Really,” he whispered.
“We’re all just a little shocked about what happened, you know?” Brian chimed in.
“I mean, none of us liked Mr. Heins, but it’s still totally crazy that he’s dead now,” Dillion added.
“It can be frightening, but don’t you worry. Sheriff Thompson is the best of the best. I’m sure he is sweeping this entire school for clues. He’ll have the killer caught in no time.”
At this comment, all three of the boys turned a shade whiter than before. For a moment, the flutter of Sam’s eyes made Sonja wonder if he was going to pass out.
“W-we have to get back home,” he murmured, hurriedly running off, his brother in tow. A second later, the other boys had followed suit.
Sonja couldn’t help but feel like they were hiding something.
* * *
The entire front entrance had been cordoned off and yellow signs, drawn with felt marker by the school’s administration, instructed students to return home for the day. Additionally, administrators were gathering up the kids whose parents were already at work or were otherwise unavailable and loading them back onto buses.
The deputy standing at the edge of the yellow police tape was making sure no overly curious students snuck through to get a peek at the crime scene. Sonja decided to head that way.
“Morning, Sonja,” he greeted her with a slight sigh.
“Hi, Greg. Is the Sheriff still here?”
“He is, do you want to see him?”
“If he isn’t completely swamped, that would be perfect, yes.”
“Why don’t you just step inside and out of the crowd.”
“Is that okay?”
“We’ve actually already swept the entire lobby and front offices, but we still don’t want any students inside. If you don’t go wandering, I’m sure it’s a-okay.”
“Right,” she nodded, stepping under the tape and through the door as he held it open.
“Be right back, make sure none of these rascals try to weasel their way inside. I’ve caught a few already trying to get into the main office on a dare.”
“Got it.” She gave him a thumbs up.
Greg disappeared and then reappeared a second later with Frank in tow. The sheriff had dark circles under his eyes, but still managed a smile for his girlfriend. “Morning, Sonj’. What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could use a boost this morning.” She held out the disposable travel mug.
“Oh, you’re a life saver,” he praised her, taking the cup and sipping through the hole in the lid.
“Looks like I should have brought more,” she chuckled, trying to make the situation as light as possible.
“Yeah, where is mine?” Greg joked, folding his arms and making a pouty face.
“How about this, I’ll head back to the diner and get a couple of drink caddies with coffee. That way you’ll have a supply for an hour or two.”
Frank took a long sip, sighing as he consumed the energetic liquid. “That would be perfect, Sonja. Thanks.”
“So, any recent developments you can share with me?” she asked.
Frank shook his head. “Not really. I have Cherry Heins coming in this morning to give a statement. I haven’t been able to track down Decker Partle yet.”
“Danny was working on that one this morning,” Greg added, indicating another one of the deputies.
Frank scowled at him.
Not wanting Greg to get into trouble, Sonja ended the conversation. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then. The sooner I get back with the c
offee, the better.”
“Probably,” Frank agreed.
“You said the little girls room is already checked out? I’d like to use it before I leave.”
“Just past the security office,” Frank pointed to the opposite side of the entry hall. “Just make sure you don’t go anywhere else at all. In and out, that’s it.”
“Thanks.” Heading off in that direction, and stopping for a moment at the glass window pane to tell the security guard (who was being utilized to help keep students out) that she was just using the bathroom and would only be a second, she found the girl’s restroom.
Stepping through the door, she wrinkled up her nose as a familiar scent wafted her direction. Just like the night before, she smelled the odd combination of some sort of alcohol based cleaner or solution as she stood among the tannish bathroom stalls and stained rows of mirrors.
Only this time, it wasn’t as strong.
Forgetting for a moment her need to use the restroom, Sonja sniffed the air, trying to locate exactly where the smell was coming from.
Slowly, she made her way over to the trashcan in the corner.
Yes, it seemed to be coming from there.
She bent over to look inside, but it was empty. Whatever had been in here was clearly already taken by the police. What could it have been? Rags? Paper towels? Something soaked in the astringent fluid?
She wondered if this somehow was connected to the murder of Principal Heins.
CHAPTER 9
* * *
Exiting the building, Sonja spotted Cherry Heins walking up the steps toward the front door. Any semblance of makeup was absent from her face, giving her a sallow appearance, and her hair was in a ragged clump atop her head, held in place by a cheap black clip.
Sonja was sad to see the woman in such a state of disarray, but could hardly blame her for it. After all, her husband had just been murdered the night before.
“Cherry, hi,” Sonja greeted her in a somewhat somber tone.
“Sonja,” she gasped, surprised to see the local diner owner. She’d clearly been crying and had only managed to dry her tears enough to come to the school.
Bacon Caramel Murder (Wicked Waffle Paranormal Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 4