I was momentarily startled by her use of “please.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t polite, but we’d known each other long enough that our requests to each other didn’t usually require such formality.
“We’re on the way,” I said.
Seth didn’t ask any questions, but put one more forkful of pancake in his mouth before he pulled out some cash and left it on the table to cover the tab.
“Let’s go,” he said.
As we hurried in through the police station doors, two young women decked out in ski gear exited. One still had her ski boots on, which struck me as odd but only in a distant something’s-off way. The two women spoke to each other in serious, concerned tones, which I also noticed only peripherally, again as something vaguely wonky. They were even less aware of us than we were of them, passing through the doors without a glance in our direction.
We hurried down the hallway. I hadn’t been concerned that Jodie had called me into the station for any reason other than Lloyd, but as we approached her office I began to wonder if maybe something had happened to someone in my family. A wave of panic tightened in my chest and I took a deep, cleansing breath.
As we went through the doors and into the office Jodie shared with five other officers, her brother and my ex-fiancé, Creighton, was leaving the room. He’d become my ex a few years ago now, and we’d managed to learn a civility toward each other. Correction: I’d become less angry with his old cheating ways. He hadn’t changed much from his quiet, sometimes brooding, sometimes less-than-polite self. I hated to admit it, but having Seth in my life had probably been the biggest catalyst to move me to a better place with Creighton. Surprisingly, he and Seth hadn’t had much trouble being friendly to each other, which probably helped too.
“Seth, Clare,” Creighton said as he stood to the side and held the door. “Jodie’s waiting for you.”
“Everything okay?” I said.
Creighton’s eyebrows came together at my tone. “I think so. It’s about the guy you guys knew in school.”
“They find him?” I asked.
“Jodie’s got the details.”
“Thanks,” Seth said before he nodded me inside.
“Hey,” Jodie said as she looked up from her desk and signaled us over.
Jodie rubbed a tired eye with her fist, the childlike move endearing even though it was done by a tough policewoman. “It was him, Clare.”
“Lloyd? The foot was Lloyd’s?” I asked, my voice way too high-pitched.
“Have a seat,” she said.
I sat.
“A body was found by a couple of backcountry skiers. In fact, they left as you were coming in. The body, identified as Lloyd’s, was missing a foot, and . . . and he had been shot in the head. Although it’s unlikely that there’s more than one dismembered foot out there, we are having further tests done to confirm, but we think it’s Lloyd’s, and of course, it’s murder.”
“That’s horrible,” Seth said. He looked over at me as he swung a supportive hand onto my knee.
I put my hand over his. I’d heard Jodie’s words, but they didn’t want to register. “Not a skiing accident? But a bullet? Killed?”
Jodie shook her head slowly. “No, not an accident. He was shot with a gun, a wimpy .22, but they’re not so wimpy at close range. We think he was shot at the top of a hill, a ledge, and then shoved off. The body fell about a hundred feet and . . . well, somehow the foot got detached and was moved over to the more populated area by a . . . we’re still just guessing . . . by a wild animal.”
“Oh, that’s not good,” I said. I cleared my throat, embarrassed at my simplistic take on the tragedy.
“No, it isn’t,” Jodie said.
“Good grief, Jodie, who would have killed Lloyd?” I said.
“Not one clue. Literally, not even one. All we know is what Dillon told us. He wanted you to have some Hoovers delivered to you.”
“Hoovens,” I said.
“Right. That, and Lloyd was coming here for some sort of small reunion or meetings. If it was some sort of class reunion, I didn’t hear about it. You?”
I shook my head. “Do you think someone killed him for the typewriters?”
“We can’t be sure of anything at this point, and since we don’t have much of anything else to go on, we’re looking more closely at every little thing. I need to inspect those machines and you need to be with me in case you see something that doesn’t seem right. . . . I don’t know, Clare—we just don’t know anything. We need to look at everything.”
“Sure.”
The door swung open and banged against the wall. We all turned to see Dillon say, “Sorry” to Creighton as they came through together. Creighton just sent him a level but slightly sympathetic gaze.
Clearly, Dillon had heard the news; his nose was red and his eyes were puffy. I didn’t know exactly how old he was, maybe in his early twenties. He was obviously upset, whether he truly cared about Lloyd or not. From my vantage point, it looked like he cared plenty.
Jodie stood. “Come on—let’s go someplace more private. You’re both invited.”
We all went back through the door and to an interview room that smelled like Pine-Sol and old aftershave. I wondered who’d been in there before us. The space was cramped, but we each had a chair. Seth and I shared a brief look as we sat. We both probably wondered why he was there, or whether Jodie had truly thought through the fact that she’d invited him.
I also noticed another shared look, this one between Creighton and Jodie. He was higher up in rank than she was, though he wasn’t her direct supervisor. However, it would be up to him to give her the nod of approval to conduct the questioning. He did exactly that, and with much less Creighton attitude than many of his nods.
Recently, Jodie had had suspicions about some of her brother’s activities. She wasn’t sure he was on the up-and-up, and she’d shared her concern with me, but of course she couldn’t give me all the details. We’d talked about conducting our own private investigation, but I thought she was scared to find out the full truth about him, so our in-depth snooping was more talk than action. However, now every time I was around Creighton, I was extra tuned-in to his behavior.
“Dillon, we’re so sorry about Lloyd,” Jodie said. “It’s tough news to hear, particularly when you’re somewhere where you don’t know anyone else. We want to let you go home, but we can’t just yet. Do you understand that?”
“Sure.” Dillon sniffed.
“All right. Dillon, you came here to deliver the Hoovens, right?” Jodie said.
“Yeah.”
“What else did you know about Mr. Gavin’s trip to Star City? Give me as many details as you can. You mentioned a reunion or some meetings.”
Dillon looked at each face in the room. I didn’t know whether he was stalling because he needed a moment or if it was his way of memorizing the people around him.
“Just what I said earlier,” he finally said.
“Repeat for all of us to hear, please,” Jodie said.
Dillon blinked and looked up at Creighton, who leveled another gaze at the younger man, this one unsympathetic.
“I was supposed to meet him here. He wanted to give the Hoovens to Clare and Chester Henry. He came out early to meet with some high school friends. He said there was a reunion—no, maybe he just said meetings. I’m just not sure. I totally thought that Clare was one of those high school friends, even though he didn’t mention her when he talked about the meetings, just about the Hoovens.”
“Did he say any specific names at all?” Jodie asked.
Dillon rubbed a finger under his nose as his eyebrows came together. “Yeah, just one, though, and he didn’t mean for me to hear him say it. He kind of muttered it like he wasn’t saying nice things about the guy, and it was such a different name. Donte.”
Donte Senot? I didn’t say
the words out loud, but that was the only Donte I could remember from our high school days. I hadn’t seen him in years and I had no idea what he’d done with his life, but both Jodie and Creighton wrote in their small notebooks.
“Any other names?” Jodie asked. “Think about it.”
“Not that I can remember right now. Lloyd’s assistant, Brenda, will probably know everything though. She always does.”
“All right. We’ll call her. What was Lloyd’s business, Dillon? Start with the name of the business and then tell us what he did, give us a history of it if you have one,” Jodie said.
“I started working there only about six months ago, so I don’t have much history. My parents were happy when I went to work for Gavin Enterprises, though. It’s computer stuff—not the whole computers, just parts that make other computers better, and some software. Mr. Gavin’s clients are companies that make computers. They buy our little parts, put them in their computers, and their computers are better. That’s all I really understand. I’m just a gofer really, and I had my CDL from another job, so Lloyd asked me to drive the truck out, even though a CDL isn’t needed to drive that size of truck.” He paused as if his mind had to catch up with the words. “If you want to know more, just call his assistant. She’ll know everything.”
Jodie repeated her name and then asked for a phone number. After Dillon gave her the information, Creighton stood up and left the room.
“Dillon, tell me some other stuff about Lloyd. What was his house like? Did he have a pet? Did he date? I’d like to get to know the man.”
Dillon sniffed and looked at Jodie like he couldn’t quite believe the things he was being asked, but he continued. “Nice house, but not very big, not a mansion. He didn’t have any pets. In fact, I remember him talking about wanting a dog but knowing he couldn’t take care of it the way he wanted to. He worked too much. I have no idea if he dated; not something we ever talked about.” He paused, but it was obvious he had more, so we waited silently. “He was a good guy, I think, not a bad guy.”
“People liked working for him?” Jodie said.
Dillon shrugged. “I did. I can’t speak for the others.”
“How many employees?”
“Seventeen.”
“Anything else you can think of that would help us understand your boss?”
Dillon’s hand went up to the table and he started tapping with his fingers. He wasn’t practiced at hiding his nerves.
“Am I a suspect?” he asked.
“Everybody is equally under suspicion right now. Dillon, we don’t have enough to point at anyone more than everyone else.”
“Okay,” he said weakly. “That’s all I can think of at the moment.” His eyes brimmed with tears, suddenly glassy and bright. I felt a wave of sympathy, but I knew Jodie didn’t. Sympathy could get in the way of an investigation.
“All right, Clare, your turn. You didn’t know you were receiving the Hoovens?” Jodie said as she turned to me.
“No.”
“When was the last time you talked to Lloyd?”
“Had to be high school, but I have no recollection of any conversation with Lloyd beyond the junior high dance we didn’t go to because he broke out in hives. We had conversations in high school, but it would be impossible to remember any specifics.”
“Oh yeah, you told me about that a long time ago. I forgot. He was sweet on you, wasn’t he?”
I lifted an eyebrow. That was not a phrase she would normally use. I suddenly felt like I was being set up to answer something specific.
“A junior high sweet maybe, but that was a long time ago,” I said.
“And he hadn’t gotten in touch with you about any sort of meeting?”
“No.”
“Did he get in touch with Chester, that you know of?”
“You were there last night when he said someone called that might have been Lloyd.”
“Has that come up again?”
“I haven’t seen Chester yet today. Call him.”
“We will.”
“Seth, have you heard from him?” Jodie asked.
“The man who was killed?” Seth said. “I don’t know who he is, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never talked to him. I guess I’d have to see pictures.”
“I didn’t really think so, but I had to ask,” Jodie said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “And your trip out of town has been confirmed. It looks like once again your job has kept you from becoming a serious suspect in a murder case, Seth. Not sure you’re so lucky, Clare.”
My eyebrows came together as both Seth and I sat forward on our chairs. Jodie smoothed the small piece of paper. It had been torn out of a spiral notebook, its edges uneven and ragged.
“It seems that Lloyd knew about all you, Seth. And maybe he wanted to give Clare a call while he was in town,” Jodie said. “Even if she hadn’t been invited to the alleged meetings.”
The note read “Clare Henry, still unmarried. Dating Seth Cassidy, local Star City geologist.”
“That’s completely creepy,” I said. “I mean, no disrespect to Lloyd, and maybe it’s only because he’s dead, but that’s a little unsettling. Where did you get this?”
“From Lloyd’s pocket. His wallet was on him, lots of cash still inside it, and this was in his pocket.”
“I’m sure I haven’t talked to him in years,” I said.
“Okay.” Jodie twisted her mouth and then bit her bottom lip. “Dillon, another question about Lloyd. He liked to know things about people. Did he do research on people? Was he the extracurious sort?”
“I have no idea,” Dillon said.
He was a horrible liar, but I didn’t understand the lie completely. He knew more about Lloyd than he was admitting. I admired the kid’s loyalty to his employer, no matter what the reason. Dillon stayed stubbornly silent, but he couldn’t miss the three pairs of wide eyes and lifted eyebrows staring down his denial.
“Ask his assistant,” Dillon finally continued sheepishly.
“We will.” Jodie sat back in her chair. She’d gotten what she needed from us, which I silently and quickly concluded was first, knowing if Lloyd had contacted either me or Seth and second, learning what kind of guy Lloyd really was when it came to looking up old junior high dance dates. Of course I had no idea how the answers might contribute to the investigation. “Now talk to me, Clare. Anything weird happen lately, phone calls, a sense of anyone watching you or anything like that?”
“No, nothing, Jodie. I don’t think Lloyd was stalking me, not in person at least.”
Dillon shifted in his seat as Jodie’s eyes landed back on him.
“He wasn’t married ever? Lloyd, I mean,” she said.
“No.”
“Does he have any pictures in his office, personal things on his desk?”
Dillon’s eyebrows came together. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Uh-huh. All right. Well, Clare, I want you to think about my question about anything weird. Will you do that? Don’t discount anything. Let me do that. Even though Lloyd is dead, we’re going to have to do some backtracking to find his killer. You know, learn what kind of man he’d turned into. This note could mean something or it could mean nothing at all, something he wrote down at the last minute as he was walking out the door. Or there’s more, somewhere. When you’ve got nothing, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Of course,” I said, but I wondered if Jodie actually had more than she was fessing up to, that she was pretending to have nothing for a reason. I’d ask her about it later, but I doubted she’d give me a straight answer.
“Good. Dillon, make yourself comfortable at the hotel. Clare, you and I need to look over the Hoovens and then you can go,” Jodie said.
“When can I go home?” Dillon asked.
“We’ll let you know.”
<
br /> Dillon sighed and shook his head but didn’t say anything else as he left the room.
I stood but gestured for Jodie and Seth to stay put.
“What?” they said together.
“Sarah McMasters?” I said to Jodie.
“Okay?” Jodie said.
“Who’s Sarah McMasters?” Seth asked.
“Until just a few minutes ago I didn’t put the pieces together, but you know that new bookstore?” Seth and Jodie nodded. “Well, Chester mentioned the owner’s name to me just a few days ago. Sarah McMasters. If it’s the Sarah McMasters we went to high school with, I know that at least at one time she was married to Donte Senot.”
“I’ll see if I can talk to her, and find Donte through her, or find her through him, or find them another way. I can’t imagine Lloyd was talking about any other Donte. How many could there be?”
“You know, Sarah and I got along,” I said.
Jodie crossed her arms in front of herself and sent me a smirk. She remembered that the two of them did not get along. In fact, they had disliked each other.
“Well, I’m not the only police officer in town,” Jodie said. “And I do see what you’re attempting, but remember, we’re the police. I appreciate your interest in helping us, Clare, but let us take care of this one.”
“Of course, but you didn’t like her,” I said.
“Neither did you.” She turned to Seth. “Sarah was all about image, money, those sorts of things.”
“Surely she’s grown out of that,” I said.
Seth and Jodie shared a look.
“Maybe. Let’s go look at those Hoovens,” Jodie said.
“Sounds good to me.” I led the way.
4
Ultimately, we might have spent a total of five minutes looking at the Hoovens. Jodie didn’t want to undo the ropes around them quite yet. I told her that I didn’t see anything suspicious on or around them, but I’d never seen a Hooven in person before, so I couldn’t be sure.
She sent Seth and me on our way. Seth had the rest of the day off, but I didn’t. As he dropped me off in front of The Rescued Word, we told each other we’d meet up later. We’d progressed to not making many specific plans. We were always together, when we weren’t working, at least. It was a good spot to be in, though I couldn’t help being worried that I was taking him for granted. Chester had already lectured me—“That’s the spot you want to be in, Clare. I know you’ve never enjoyed an easy relationship before [insert grumbled curse words about Creighton], but the ability to appreciate each other comes with the trust that you can sometimes take each other for granted.”
Comic Sans Murder Page 3