“A little while at least,” Jo leaned forward and frowned at the dark shadow on the railing. “How did this get so dirty?”
Kate refilled their glasses before taking her seat again. “Fingerprint dust.”
“Back here?”
Kate nodded. “I told you there were none on the note but when the team got here to check things out, Mitch noticed the grass beneath the windows was matted in places.” Watching Jo’s expression, she saw when her words kicked in.
“Son of a bitch, he was looking in my windows?”
“Looks that way. The guys dusted each windowsill but nothing came up clear. A lot of smudges though.”
“Any footprints?”
“No, but they did get a good tire track near the picnic table in the park. Tires belong to a truck.”
“Not much help there.” Jo sipped more wine.
“Not yet, but it’s these little pieces that are going to trip him up. I do have an update about your client Agatha Witmore.”
Jo sat up straighter in her chair. “Yeah?”
“She was finally sober enough for us to interview her this morning. She’s still on the short list but I don’t have evidence to charge her, so we had to let her go.”
“You really think she did him in?”
Kate shrugged. “Until I find another probable suspect, she gets my vote. The lab has concluded it was death by antifreeze.”
Jo stared into her wine. “She doesn’t have a job and I don’t see Danny as the type to have a big insurance policy, so why would she kill him now?”
“Maybe she just reached the end of her rope. You have any thoughts on that?”
“She was really agitated yesterday during our meeting. I didn’t think much about it at the time. You think she set things up and was just waiting for him to drink the stuff?”
“Going to be hard to prove if that’s what happened. When do you see her again?”
“Officially not until next month. But with Danny’s death, I think I’ll do a home visit tomorrow. No, wait, I’ve got that teacher conference tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have time after that.”
“Well, watch your back when you’re out in the field.”
Jo grinned. “If you don’t mind, I’ll watch my front as well.”
* * *
Jo stood at the counter in the school’s office and tried not to fidget. She hated schools; they brought back so many ugly memories. You’re not here to be reprimanded, she chided herself silently. She had never really been a troublemaker, but she had never been popular either. Always on the outside looking in, but that was how she liked it, she thought. She glanced at the two sullen boys sitting against the wall. Now they look like troublemakers, and for an instant she felt sympathy and wondered what led up to their incarceration. The phone continued to ring and two women, that Jo supposed were teachers, entered the room, ignored the ringing phone, and removed papers from different slots in what was probably a makeshift mailbox.
A harried woman she took to be the secretary was chatting at the end of the counter with a mother holding a toddler.
“I can’t believe it,” the mother said. “And it’s true? He’s dead?”
The secretary nodded. “They think it was poison.”
“Oh, my gosh,” she squeezed the toddler closer despite the child’s struggles to get down. “Are the kids safe?”
“I would think so, but who really knows?” She leaned further over the counter and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “I hear his wife did it.”
“Excuse me,” Jo broke in.
Cleary annoyed at being interrupted, the secretary turned in Jo’s direction, “Can I help you?”
“Jo Cazimer, to see Ms. Johnson.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
No, Jo thought, I’m just standing here because I have nothing better to do. She struggled to keep her voice pleasant. “Yes, Ms. Johnson is expecting me.”
The secretary turned and hit the intercom. “Ms. Johnson, your appointment is here.”
“You can send the officer back,” came the crackly voice over the intercom.
The secretary’s eyes widened. “You can go right back. Ms. Johnson is located in our portable building. If you just go out this door and around the corner you can’t miss it. Are you a police officer?”
“Not exactly,” Jo said over her shoulder. “And you really want to answer that phone.”
Jo entered the temporary building and immediately noticed the scent of disinfectant that didn’t quite cover the odor of sweaty children. Bulletin boards lined the hallway and proclaimed a welcome to the new school year, but someone had already drawn faces on some of the flowers and two sported horns and a black eye. Things never change, she thought, and wondered if the boys in the office were the culprits.
Betsy Johnson looked like a young version of someone’s grandmother, Jo thought as she approached the stern woman standing in the doorway. White hair, silky housedress, sensible shoes and a scowl. A strict grandmother, she thought. One who would smack your hand if she caught you stealing a cookie.
“Ms. Johnson?”
“Yes, and you’d be Officer Cazimer. Come in.” She gestured for Jo to follow her into the classroom. “Have a seat.”
Jo looked at the desks and chairs. “Wow, you forget that things come in this size.” She lowered herself sitting sideways as her legs wouldn’t fit under the small desk. She noted Ms. Johnson had pulled over a larger version of the desk chair for herself. Ah ha, make the suspect feel immediately uncomfortable, she thought, and shifted in her seat again.
“I had thought that our appointment was for eight o’clock. It’s now nearly ten after.”
I was here at eight, Jo wanted to say, but your front office is a madhouse. Instead she smiled easily. “Well, I’m here now so why don’t we start?”
“I don’t approve of tardiness,” Ms. Johnson said tightly. “In children or adults.”
“Neither do I. I understand from our discussion on the phone the other day that Christian Witmore is having some problems?”
Johnson huffed out a breath. “With parents like that how can you expect anything less? And now his father went and got himself killed.”
Jo could hear the silent tsk tsk, “Well I’m sure he didn’t plan on it.”
Ms. Johnson leaned closer. “They say it was poison.”
“The Medical Examiner has yet to determine the exact cause of death,” Jo said easily. “Do you think Christian’s behavior is the result of his parents current issues?”
“Well, what else? His mother is worthless and his father is a bully.”
“Then you’ve met both his parents?”
“I certainly have,” she drew herself straighter in the chair. “I make it my business to get to know the parents of each of my students.”
“Wow, that’s really impressive since school’s only been in session, what, a little over a week?”
“I don’t believe in procrastination, Officer. Christian was in my class two days before I called his parents for a conference. I require both parents to come when I have a student like him.”
“Okay, I’ve got to ask, what did he do?”
“Do?”
“Yes, what did Christian do to get on the wrong track so early in the year?”
“He didn’t do anything.” Johnson huffed again. “I could tell by just looking at him that he was going to be trouble and I informed his parents as such.”
“You just looked at him?”
“Officer, I am a trained educator. I know a troublemaker when I see one, and I will not have someone disrupt my class.”
“But when you called his parents had he been disruptive?”
“Not then, but it was just a matter of time.”
“I see,” Jo said softly.
“I knew you would. After all, we are alike you and I.”
“How so?”
“We both deal with the criminal element.”
“Ahh, but I thought you dealt with child
ren.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” Johnson shook her head. “Just a matter of time.”
Ten minutes later Jo found herself ushered from the room. She might have protested but she was as anxious to be out of that classroom as Ms. Johnson was to get back to her schedule. What a bitch, she thought. Those poor kids. There ought to be some type of screening process so someone like Johnson couldn’t affect the lives of so many. And she had sure butted heads with Danny Witmore. Jo shivered despite the heat. She had had it rough in school, but Johnson took the cake. She mentally ran through her options and wondered if she could find the right counselor for Christian. It was clear the little guy was going to need some support to get through all this. Now, she thought, let’s go find Aggie.
Chapter Five
Julie sat with Nicole and Willow in the food court of the Florida Mall. The aroma of cinnamon buns from Cinnzeo filled the air and Julie tried to ignore the rumbling in her stomach. If she was going to date Marques Brown she couldn’t turn into a cinnamon pig. Still the scent was driving her crazy. She wished Willow would finish her nachos so they could leave. This whole expedition had turned into a nightmare.
She’d been thrilled when Nicole had asked her to join them on an after school shopping spree and she wanted to look for a new outfit for the upcoming game. She had Mom’s credit card with strict instructions of how much she could spend and she already had her eye on a new Michael Kors off-the-shoulder blouse from Nordstrom. It had been fun getting sprayed with the new Taylor Swift scent but then she had seen Willow trying on scarves. The sales woman pulled several from under the counter when Willow set her pink coach bag on the glass. But when Nicole had asked for help further down the counter, Julie watched in stunned silence as Willow slipped two of the scarves from the pile into her purse.
The shopping had continued with Nicole taking earrings from Claire’s Boutique and a red lace bra from Victoria’s Secret. Now Julie wanted nothing more than to be gone. She had a terrible premonition that they were going to make her go next. She had swiped some candy once at the grocery store when she was younger. The open bins for patrons to select their own were just too inviting and when her mom had given her a nickel, she had taken the candy but put the nickel in her pocket. But that wasn’t the same thing, was it? Still wrestling with her dilemma, she was startled when Willow bumped her shoulder and gestured, “There’s slutty Sherry. You want to stay away from that one.”
“Why?”
Sherry’s dark blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Earrings dangled to her bare shoulders and her eye makeup was just short of Goth.
“Because she comes from the wrong side of town,” Nicole said haughtily. “Her mother is having an affair with the clerk at the hardware store and everybody knows about it.”
“But what about her dad?” Julie felt her sympathy stir. Then Sherry saw them and made a beeline for the table.
“Oh no,” Nicole rolled her eyes and Willow sat a little straighter but Sherry plopped down in the empty chair.
“Did you hear?” her excitement evident Sherry missed or ignored the cold looks in her direction. “I mean I was in the office when he saw it. And the man flipped out. I thought he was going to have a stroke or something the way his face got all red. You should have been there,” she laughed.
Nicole gave her a bored look, “Sherry, what are you talking about?”
Sherry’s face glowed with excitement. She knew something Miss Smarty Pants Nicole didn’t know. “Well,” she leaned in. “Didn’t you hear all the commotion in the office this afternoon?”
“And…,” Willow prompted.
Delighted to finally be the center of attention, Sherry exchanged a conspiratorial look with Julie. “I thought everyone knew by now.” She missed the way Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “He’s going to be fired! Isn’t that awesome!”
“Who’s going to be fired?” Julie asked.
“Principal Bradshaw!”
“What?” Now Willow leaned in closer. “How did you hear all this?”
“I work in the office, remember,” she said proudly. “Part of my work study program. So I was helping with the files when Bradshaw comes rushing out of the office clutching the newspaper and demanding to know what was going on and who knew what. It was priceless! Ms. Dunn even started to cry.”
Julie frowned, “Ms. Dunn? Isn’t she the one with the reddish hair that’s always flopping in her eyes?”
Sherry nodded and popped her gum. “I think she has a crush on Mr. Bradshaw. She’s always mooning over him. I mean ick!”
“But isn’t Principal Bradshaw married?” Julie asked.
“Marriage doesn’t mean much to some people,” Nicole’s laser eyes focused on Sherry. “Some people think it’s okay to steal another woman’s man.”
If Sherry caught the dig she chose to ignore it. “He said if the board wanted him gone he wasn’t going to wait around. He was going to quit.”
“What?” Julie sputtered as her coke fizzed up her nose.
“Interesting,” Nicole gave Julie a questioning glance. “Wonder if we’ll get someone that’s as big a jerk as he is.”
Sherry beamed. “He said he wasn’t going to wait around and be humiliated when they fired him. I tell you I could have sold tickets. The secretaries were all talking at once saying they hadn’t heard anything.”
“But you said he was going to quit?” Julie asked quietly.
Sherry nodded. “I wonder if he’ll be in on Monday.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Nicole’s smile grew as she stared at Julie. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“And I’ll have a front row seat,” Sherry gloated. She turned to Julie. “I hear you’re dating Marques Brown now.”
“Well…” Julie stammered and felt her cheeks growing red. “We haven’t actually been on a date yet.”
“But he did ask you to the football game this Friday,” Willow stated.
“Ah yes, um, who are you going with?”
Sherry’s eyes turned sly. “I’ve got a new guy. An older guy.”
“Obviously not from around here,” Nicole said dryly and exchanged a look with Willow.
“So are you bringing him to the game?” Julie asked.
Sherry shook her head but her smile only grew. “High school games are passé now. I’m dating a man not a boy.” She tried to pull off the haughty look Nicole so often aimed in her direction. “He’s way more mature than the guys at school and way more handsome,” she sighed. “Want to see?” She pulled out her wallet and flipped it open.
“Wow, he does look older,” Julie’s voice held surprise.
“It’s not a very good picture,” Willow said as she stared at the photo.
“I took it with my phone when he wasn’t looking.” Sherry looked down at the picture and sighed again.
“So where did you meet this Prince Charming?” Nicole asked, not bothering to glance at the photo.
“On the Internet,” Sherry’s eyes went dreamy. “He writes me poems. He thinks I’m beautiful.”
“Have you met in person yet?” Nicole challenged.
Sherry sat up straight. “Of course we have. We went out last Friday night.”
“Where did you go?” Julie leaned forward eager to learn where the kids here went for dates.
Sherry squirmed in her seat. She wasn’t about to tell them she’d snuck out of the house and met him at the Night Owl Bar. “Oh, gosh, sorry,” she looked at her watch. “Gotta go. I’ll keep you up to date with what happens on Monday.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Nicole said to her retreating back.
“Well it’s nice she has a new guy,” Julie ventured.
“And if her new guy is as old as she says, he has jail bate,” Willow stated. “Sherry isn’t sixteen yet.”
“But she’s a junior.” Julie looked from one to the other.
“She’s supposed to be smart or something,” Nicole said in a bored voice. “But if you ask me
, she’s pretty dumb. And now,” she said with a wicked smile, “I think it’s time to do a little more, ah, shopping.
* * *
She was late getting home but that was the least of her problems. Julie hurried to her bedroom and shoved the shopping bags into her closet grateful that Mom was distracted by her phone call. But it wouldn’t be long; she knew that her mother would come back to her room if she didn’t get back out to the kitchen. Retrieving the credit card from her wallet she made a mad dash for the kitchen.
Her mother hung up the phone as she walked in. “Did you have a nice time?”
Julie smiled and started getting the dishes from the cabinet for dinner. “Super. I put your credit card on the counter,” she gestured. She watched her mother return the card to her own purse.
“Did you stay within our budget discussion?”
“I just bought a blouse to go with that brown skirt you made me.”
“That’s my girl.” Mrs. Finch gave her daughter an absent hug then turned to the ringing phone. “I swear I’m never volunteering to chair a committee again. Hello?” She rolled her eyes and gestured toward the meatloaf sitting on the stovetop. “Go ahead without me,” she whispered, her hand over the receiver. “This is going to take a while.”
Glad for the reprieve, Julie filled her plate and left for her room. Dear Lord what was she going to do? Her mother had been so firm about how much she could charge. And the blouse was just a little over her limit. Okay, she thought, it was double what she’d been told she could spend but it was going to be perfect for the game. And then there were the sunglasses. She sat at her desk, appetite gone and toyed with the food on her plate.
They had returned to Nordstrom’s again, this time for sunglasses. Nicole had assured her they would be the easiest things to take. She’d dutifully engaged the saleswoman and tried on several pairs trying not to gasp at the price tickets. Who knew Tom Ford sunglasses could cost over $300? She selected a pair by Givenchy and was admiring them in the mirror when Nicole and Willow called the woman to the opposite end of the counter. She knew she was supposed to slip a pair into her open purse that sat on the chair beside her but she just couldn’t do it. Her hand hesitated by her purse just long enough to have the sales woman hurrying back to her, an accusation ready in her eyes. In the end she’d handed over her mom’s credit card and paid nearly $400 for sunglasses. And since the clerk had asked for identification all she could think was how lucky she was that she and Mom shared the same name and that Mom hadn’t signed the card.
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