by Paige Sleuth
“This is the guy who was mentoring you all?”
“Yes. I learned a lot from him.”
Andrew chuckled. “Like how to wheedle free milkshakes out of your college professors.”
She smiled. “Hey, we were all starving students. Professor Bluefield knew if he rewarded us sometimes, we’d work that much harder for him.”
“As much as I love milkshakes, I wouldn’t consider them adequate compensation for staring at a computer monitor all day long.”
“That’s because you’ve never experienced the amazing feeling that comes from getting a machine to do what you want.”
Andrew cocked his head to one side. “Kind of like what this Professor Bluefield was doing with you?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “I liked working on that tree database.” She paused. “I wonder how he’s doing.”
“You don’t keep in touch?”
“I emailed him when I started sending out résumés earlier this year, but that was only to let him know he might be contacted for a reference check.” She shrugged. “The emails we used to send each other to say hi petered out a few years after I graduated. I guess life got in the way.”
Andrew drummed his fingers on the counter. “You say he knew Leo, right?”
Kat’s stomach clenched as she recalled Leo’s reaction upon hearing Professor Bluefield’s name. “Yeah.”
“Well, here’s your chance to get back in touch.”
“By letting him know his old friend was murdered?” She shook her head as she tossed a handful of frozen strawberries into the mixing cup. “Besides, I gather they were on the outs after he stole Leo’s high school sweetheart away.”
“Considering that this professor of yours ended up with the girl, he probably doesn’t view Leo in nearly so negative a light as Leo viewed him,” Andrew said. “And either way, he’s bound to find out about Leo soon enough. Why not hear the news from somebody he respects?”
Kat took a milk gallon out of the cooler. She had to admit he made a good point. And she couldn’t deny it would be nice to hear what her old professor was up to nowadays.
“I’ll email him during my next break,” she said. She eyed Andrew. “Of course, it would be nice to have all the case details to give him.”
Andrew scoffed. “Nice try.”
They stopped talking long enough for her to mix the milkshake. She spooned the results into a to-go cup and set it on the counter.
“For you,” she said, affixing the lid and sticking a straw through it.
Andrew was practically drooling as he picked up the cup. “I knew I was dating you for a reason.”
Kat snorted. “You don’t have to date the waitresses to order our milkshakes.”
“Really? And here I was planning to ask a few more of them out.” Andrew grinned as he strode toward the door. “I’ll see you later. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
“Bye,” Kat said with a wave.
A short, balding man entered the restaurant as Andrew was leaving. He sat down at the far end of the counter, placing the manila folder he’d brought in front of him.
“Welcome to Jessie’s,” Kat said, closing the distance between them. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Not yet.” He swiveled his seat around and surveyed the dining area. “I’m actually here to meet somebody. Have you seen him?”
“What’s his name?”
“Leo Price.”
Kat’s heart stopped beating. “Leo Price?”
The man rotated back around to face her. “You know who I’m talking about, don’t you? He’s about your height, late forties. This town is small enough that I presume everybody around here knows one another.”
Kat didn’t reply, unsure what to say. Although she had met Leo before his untimely death, she couldn’t really claim to have known him.
The man glanced at the clock on the wall. “He was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago. Did he leave when I didn’t show on time? Traffic from Seattle was terrible.”
Kat mustered up some saliva to wet her dry mouth. “I guess you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Leo was killed yesterday.”
The man’s mouth dropped open. He gripped the edge of the counter, as though he needed the support before he fell off of the stool. “He’s dead?” he croaked.
“Yes.”
Kat turned around to fill a glass with some water. From the shell-shocked look on his face, she was betting he needed it.
She turned out to be right. The man drank greedily when she handed over the glass.
“How?” he managed to say between gulps. “Why?”
“He was stabbed. I don’t know why.”
The man raked his fingers through what remained of his hair, looking lost.
“How do you know Leo?” Kat asked.
He stared at her, as though he were having trouble processing her words after the blow he had just received.
Kat propped her hip against the counter. “You described what he looked like, so I’m assuming you know him.”
This time, the man responded. “I used to work with him.”
“At DataRightly?”
He shook his head. “We started up a dot-com together. A long time ago.”
Kat’s breath hitched, Imogene’s story from yesterday replaying in her head. “You’re Franklin Delacourt.”
The man jerked back a little. “He mentioned me to you?”
“No. But I heard you two used to be partners, before your company went bankrupt.”
Franklin rubbed two stubby fingers against the outside of the water glass. “I had high hopes for that company.”
“I didn’t know you and Leo still had professional ties,” Kat said.
“I was actually hoping he’d consider hiring me to work for him.” Franklin stopped playing with the water glass and set his hand on the manila folder. “Inside here is my résumé and some other documents he asked me to bring.”
Kat didn’t miss the melancholy look that swept over Franklin’s face. She wondered if he were more disappointed by Leo’s death or the fact that his job lead had literally turned into a dead end.
“I haven’t done well since our venture failed,” he admitted. “But Leo, he bounced back right away. I heard he had a vacancy in his department, so . . .”
“So you asked him to give you the job,” Kat concluded.
Franklin’s cheek twisted. “It took some convincing, but eventually he agreed to at least grant me an interview.”
“You mean you went over to his condo and badgered him.”
Franklin stiffened. “How’d you know that?”
Kat shrugged. It had been pure conjecture on her part that Franklin Delacourt was the man CeeCee had heard yelling outside Leo’s unit earlier this week, but his response had just confirmed it.
Franklin sighed. “He didn’t want to listen to me at first. When he told me to buzz off, I may have become a little heated.”
His flush told Kat he had become more than a little heated. But she didn’t say anything, figuring there was no point in putting him on the defensive.
“But Leo’s always been a stand-up guy,” Franklin continued. “Once I reminded him of how well we had worked together once upon a time, he let me in. I managed to convince him to at least discuss his vacancy with me. He even promised to meet me here when I told him I wouldn’t be able to make it over from Seattle in time for yesterday’s round of interviews.”
“That was nice of him,” Kat said.
Franklin fingered the folder. “It was, especially considering that I haven’t always been the nicest person to him.”
Kat watched him. Although he had acted suitably bereaved upon hearing about Leo’s fate, she couldn’t forget what Imogene had told her. Leo would have had to be a very forgiving person to even consider hiring the man who had once made his life miserable. And if Franklin was so desperate for a job that he was willing to bully his old partner into giv
ing him one, it wasn’t hard to believe he might refuse to take no for an answer.
Except, if Franklin had killed Leo, what would be his motive for hanging around town after the fact? Maybe he figured someone must have seen the fit he’d thrown outside Leo’s condo, and he thought the best way to deflect suspicions was to show up for a so-called ‘interview’ that had never actually existed.
Franklin shot out of his seat and snatched the folder off of the counter. “Well, if Leo’s dead, there’s no point in me sitting here.”
“Wait,” Kat called out, but Franklin was already out the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kat decided to pay a visit to Flowers By Barbara after she got off work at five o’clock. Not only was the shop on her way home, but she wouldn’t be able to rest until she found out what, if anything, Barbara could tell her about the yellow rose Skyla had seen posed on Leo’s body.
The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the rose pointed to a woman. And if this woman had bought that rose from Barbara, the odds were good that her name—and maybe even her contact information—could be pulled from the shop’s records.
Kat parked and got out of her car. Her eyes skirted around as if she might spy Andrew or Chief Kenny crouched behind a nearby Dumpster, waiting to leap out as soon as they caught her meddling. She had no idea how she would explain her presence here if either one of them saw her.
She shook her head at herself. Stopping by a floral shop was her right as a citizen. She had no reason to feel guilty.
Never mind that she wasn’t coming here to buy flowers.
An electronic bell chimed as she stepped inside the shop. The place was warm and cozy, the air redolent with a pleasant, floral scent. Flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors decorated the store, making it seem more like an indoor garden than a place of business.
Barbara’s orange tabby came over to greet her. The feline twined between Kat’s legs, rubbing the sides of her face against her jeans.
“Hey, Tulip,” Kat said, bending down to pet the cat. “You remember me from this morning, huh?”
“I’m lucky she’s so sociable,” Barbara said, sticking her head out from around a floral arrangement the size of a bureau. With her wild blue hair and hot-pink blouse, the shop’s proprietor almost looked as if she belonged in a floral arrangement herself. “Otherwise I’d have to leave her at home during the day.”
Tulip looked over at her human and meowed.
“Yeah, I know you’d hate being cooped up by yourself all that time,” Barbara told the cat. “Just be glad you’re such a good mouser.”
As if to show off her skills, Tulip crouched low to the ground. Her rear end wiggled a few times before she dashed to the far end of the store and started sharpening her claws on a cardboard scratcher. After a few seconds she raced back over and peered up at Kat as though to ask whether she wanted to play.
Kat grinned. “Forget mousing. I’d keep her around just for her charisma.”
“She’s a charmer, that’s for sure.” Barbara cocked her head. “You back for another bouquet?”
Kat shook her head.
“What can I help you with then?” Barbara asked as she adjusted a sprig of baby’s breath. “I don’t suppose you stopped in just to say hi to Tulip.”
“I’m looking for some information.”
Barbara picked up a towel and wiped her hands. “Information, huh?”
Tulip used an upended box as a stepping stool to climb onto the counter. She padded over to Kat, her tail stuck straight up in the air.
Kat scratched Tulip’s head. “Can you tell me if anyone purchased any roses recently?”
“Well, sure.” Barbara grinned. “Men are always in need of roses. When a man shows up here asking for red roses, you can bet he messed up royally.”
“What about yellow roses?” Kat asked. “Has anybody stopped by within the past few days to buy one?”
Barbara regarded her. “You asking because of Leo Price?”
Kat leaned back. “How’d you know?”
“Andrew Milhone was in here this morning asking the same thing.”
Kat groaned inwardly. She should have guessed that Andrew would have already been by. When word got back to him that she’d raced over here after work, he wouldn’t be happy.
Kat didn’t realize she had stopped petting Tulip until the feline prodded her fingers with her nose. She dutifully started stroking the cat again.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told him,” Barbara said. “The only yellow roses I’ve sold this week have been to you this morning and to men looking to impress their girlfriends.”
“I have a feeling the person I’m looking for is a woman,” Kat said.
“In that case, I can’t help you.”
Kat gave Tulip one last scratch between the ears before heading for the door. “Thanks anyway,” she said, trying not to feel too disappointed.
“Leo was one of the men, you know,” Barbara said.
Kat froze in her tracks. “He was?”
Barbara bobbed her head. “He bought a dozen yellow roses from me a couple days ago.”
Kat watched Tulip swat at one of the flowers sticking out of the floral arrangement. “Did he say who they were for?”
“Nope.”
Kat didn’t recall seeing any fresh flowers inside Leo’s condo. Assuming he’d bought the roses for Christy, she most likely had taken them with her when she’d left.
“But I will tell you whoever she was, Leo was smitten,” Barbara said, dragging Tulip away from the floral arrangement and fixing the damage she’d done. “I’ve never seen him happier than he’s been these past few months.”
Her words weighed down Kat’s heart. How ironic that Leo had only found true love right before he died.
Unless, she amended, that true love was the reason he was no longer alive.
CHAPTER NINE
“Kat Harper!”
Kat started, the shock of the unexpected greeting causing her to lose her grip on her keys.
A man stepped away from her apartment building and walked over to where she was standing in the parking lot. “Apologies for alarming you. It’s only me.”
“Professor Bluefield?” Her anxiety morphed into glee as she took in her old college professor. In the decade since she’d seen him he had developed a paunch around his middle and his hairline had receded, but he still looked mostly the way she remembered.
He grinned. “One and the same.”
He held out his arms, prompting Kat to busy herself with picking her keys off of the ground. By the time she stood up again, she was relieved to see he had his hands in his pockets. Either he’d belatedly remembered she wasn’t the touchy-feely type or he’d gotten the hint.
But despite her reluctance to hug her old professor, she couldn’t deny she was happy to see him. “How many years has it been?”
“Too many.” He eyed her up and down. “But you look the same as you did back then.”
“Thanks.”
They lapsed into silence. Kat had the uncomfortable sensation that he was waiting for her to return the compliment, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything to say.
She cleared her throat. “So, what are you doing here?”
“I got your email about Leo and came to check on you.” He squinted at her. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay. I didn’t really know him.”
“Any news on who killed him?”
Kat shook her head, goosebumps breaking out on her arms. His question made her acutely aware that she was currently standing in a parking lot at dusk, exactly as Leo had been twenty-four hours ago.
She pointed to the building, eager to get inside the safety of her apartment. “Why don’t you come up?”
Professor Bluefield didn’t move. “I don’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re not,” she assured him. “And it seems silly to come all the way up from Ellensburg for a two-minute conversation
in a parking lot.”
“It’s only an hour drive. And I thought you might need more than two minutes of moral support.”
Kat tried to remember what she had written in her email to elicit such concern. She hadn’t given her wording much thought, never guessing that Professor Bluefield might feel compelled to check up on her. Their relationship had always been purely academic.
She took in his potbelly again. Perhaps his stomach wasn’t the only thing about him growing softer with age.
“Although I admit, it would be nice to catch up,” he said.
“Come on then.”
She started walking, and he fell into step beside her.
“Sorry my first email to you in months had to be about something so unpleasant,” she said.
“I can’t deny it was quite the shock.”
“When was the last time you saw Leo?”
“It’s been a while.”
From his clipped tone, Kat gathered that he didn’t care to discuss his old high school friend. She wondered if he felt guilty for stealing Leo’s sweetheart away all those years ago.
Kat unlocked the front entrance. “Is this your first time in Cherry Hills?”
“I’ve passed through before. But you grew up here, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
They didn’t speak as they crossed the lobby and boarded the elevator. Kat tried to remember how she had left her place that morning, hoping it wasn’t a mess. She would hate for her old professor to be treated to a glimpse of one of her undergarments sitting atop a pile of unfolded laundry on the couch.
The elevator came to a stop. Kat led the way down the corridor.
“This is me,” she said, stopping in front of her unit.
She held her breath as she let him inside. Performing a quick scan, she spotted the high heels she had worn to her interview lying where she’d kicked them off near the kitchen, but most everything else was in its proper place.
“So,” Professor Bluefield said, clapping his hands together and making a show of examining her apartment, “this is where you live now.”