Organized for Murder

by Ritter Ames

  She didn't give him a chance to respond, but as she grabbed the doorknob he called, "Please be very careful, Ms. McKenzie."

  *

  Escape. Again. Kate let the grateful joy course through her at surviving and leaving another murder site. Guilt colored everything, of course, especially since she'd never liked Sophia. But after the day's rerun of interrogation hours and fearing she would be locked up for a crime she hadn't committed, it was difficult to tamp down the happiness. Especially when she and Meg noticed Valerie climbing into a patrol car for the trip back for her Miata.

  Life was joyous, that is, until Meg walked around the van and noticed black paint and a huge dent decorating the right rear fender.

  "What more can happen to you?" Meg voiced Kate's thoughts, as they stared at the damage. "You not only have to play another round of verbal dodge ball with the cops, but your van gets bullied, too. You don't think this black paint is from one of the squad cars do you? Come on, let's go report this to one of the officers."

  Kate shook her head. "Why bother? It's obviously a hit and run." She scanned the surrounding police cruisers. "None of these cars did it, and if one of the officers had seen it happen he would have pursued the runaway driver or at least taken the license number and told me. The back of the van seems secure." She gave the back door handle a sharp tug and the lock held. "Mainly cosmetic damage."

  A glance through the rear window showed that the impact had tipped over the box of items from Amelia's desk. As tired as she was, she wanted to get the desk's paperwork to the lawyer's office to minimize her responsibility. Who knew what else might happen if she hung onto those papers? Not to mention the number the box played on her curiosity. It had taken tremendous restraint to keep from checking things out as she packed. Kate had no idea what kind of importance any of the paperwork held, but as a professional she had no right to peek.

  She checked her watch. Quarter past five. "It's late, but if you don't mind I'd like to go ahead and stop off at the attorney's tonight, to pass along this personal paperwork of Amelia's. I just hope someone is still in the office."

  "You're talking lawyers. Someone is always working late. But haven't you had enough fun for the day?" Meg's smile was weak, but her eyes still shone. "It's no problem for me, but your hubby might be wondering where we are and why he's the one keeping our kids occupied."

  Kate shook her head. "I called him while I was waiting to be interrogated. After I calmed him down and made him promise not to run down here, I persuaded him to call Jane to help with dinner and the kids. He's probably getting ready to head to the radio station."

  "What did he say about Sophia's murder?" Meg asked.

  That was the funny thing. Kate thought about her husband's reaction when she said his employer was murdered, and how she heard no trace of concern in his voice. She came up with a number of theories why, but wasn't sure she liked any of them. Instead, Keith saved all his oral histrionics for the fact she was in trouble again. That's exactly what he said: You're in trouble again. She mulled this over to herself, but aloud simply said, "He took it well. I guess his contract doesn't allow for murder to make an impact on his job."

  *

  By the time they'd arrived at Charles Webster Walker's office, he and his two partners had left for the day. Yet, the place remained a hive of activity, with several paralegals, a secretary, and two associates. The associates, a dark-haired young man and an older woman who already had gray hair tracing through her short cut, took charge as Kate approached and explained their purpose in coming.

  "Omigod!" said the young, female paralegal at the news of Sophia's murder.

  "You found her?" The secretary clutched her throat.

  "How did she die?" asked the male associate, his eyes gleaming as he added, "Was her death grisly?"

  Kate shivered. "I'm not sure what the police want me to reveal, but the newspaper will likely cover the investigation in the morning edition."

  The associate scoffed, "That rag never gets anything right. Sure you can't tell us more?"

  "I'm sorry. I came to bring a box of papers—"

  "From Sophia?" the man asked. His female counterpart turned and walked out of the room.

  "No, Amelia Nethercutt's," Kate explained. "I've been inventorying her house for the will—"

  "Oh, gosh," cried the secretary. "The reading of that will is set for tomorrow morning. We'll have to call things off under the circumstances."

  "Why don't you get started making phone calls," the man said. Turning to Kate, he asked, "Do you need help carrying the box?"

  "It's big, but I can manage," Kate said. She was sick of people at this point, and didn't appreciate his nosy, too-helpful attitude.

  "Not necessary. I'll follow you out." He flashed sharp white teeth. "No sense in you having to come back in here."

  "Don't I need a receipt?"

  He smiled again. "You're right." Turning to the secretary, he said, "Get me a sheet of letterhead, Shirley. I'll write one up and sign it when I get outside."

  Defeated, Kate led the way to the van.

  Meg had stayed to pile papers back in the box, and stood waiting by the rear van doors. The associate extended a hand. "Scott Parker Pearson." Kate wondered whether his second and last names really began with the same consonant, or if he changed his middle name to emulate his boss.

  The repacked box sat squarely in the middle of the rear floor. Kate caught Pearson's eye and waved a hand toward the cardboard container. "There it is. Big and unwieldy but manageable."

  He hefted it for a second, then sat the box back onto the vehicle's floor and pulled out a pen. "This is pretty heavy. What did you say was in it?"

  "The contents from Amelia's desk," Kate replied.

  He squinted as he gave a half-smile. "Yeah, but you must have some idea…" His words trailed off, and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

  "All I did was load up whatever I found, Mr. Pearson. I didn't read anything." She remembered Sophia's visit and added, "Oh yes, Daniel Nethercutt's coin collection is in there, too. Please note that on the receipt."

  Pearson used the box as a table, and wrote several lines in a slashing script across the page of letterhead before signing with a flourish. Wordlessly, he handed the receipt to Kate, picked up the box and headed back across the parking lot.

  "I don't think he liked you much, Katie," Meg said, after they'd slammed the back doors and climbed into the front.

  "I'll just have to send all my legal work elsewhere," she replied and turned the key.

  *

  Quiet, finally, for the first time that day. With the dinner dishes loaded and washing, Kate headed up to her office to work on the final pieces for the next day's Book Nook presentation. Her collapsible luggage cart already stood loaded with show-and-tell items she used to explain her methods for easy and stress-free organization. Saree had offered one of the shop easels, and Kate had a nice collection of poster-sized displays printed up to illustrate specific points. Some were detailed how-to ideas, others bulleted sound bites of what she planned to discuss to help everyone remember the high points after her speech.

  Deep in the middle of her notes on coping with kids' toys, Kate was at her desk arranging and rearranging cards when blond curls and blue eyes suddenly bookended her.

  "Mommy, whatcha doin'?" Suze asked.

  "Yeah, can we help?" Sam piped up.

  She gave them a double hug. "Thanks, sweeties, but I really need to do this by myself."

  Suze pulled away first and patted her hair back in place. Kate smiled as her daughter questioned, "Is it homework?"

  "In a way," she said, with Sam still stuck to her side. Funny how different the girls were, no matter how alike they appeared to the eye. "This is work I'm doing at home, but actually, I guess you could call it work to try to get me some more work. It's for the presentation I'm doing at Saree's tomorrow night."

  "Are you going to work for Saree?" Sam asked. "Can we work for her, too?"

  Deciding
these duties would have to wait until after the girls went to bed, Kate untangled from Sam and stacked the note cards. "No, sweetie, I'm not working for Saree. She has some organization books to sell, and I'm going to tell people how to organize their homes and lives."

  "But how will that give you more work?" Suze scrunched her forehead. "If you tell them how to organize everything, and Saree sells them books on how, won't they just do everything themselves?"

  Kate had already figured Suzanne for a future business leader, and the astuteness of her questions bore out this belief. "Well, some people come to hear about things, then get all excited at how new ideas can change their lives, make their lives better. But after trying it for themselves, they often realize they need help or don't have the time to do everything alone. For those instances, I'm hoping people will remember my presentation and call me."

  Sam shrugged. "Makes sense to me."

  But Suze just pursed her lips.

  Oh no, I hope that's not an indication of everyone else's idea on the subject, too. Looking at the clock, she asked the twins, "What are you doing in here, anyway? You still have another twenty minutes of cartoon fun left for the evening."

  "Mommm," they groaned.

  "It's not like we're little kids anymore," Suze added.

  Kate smothered a smile and put a hand at the back of each head, walking them out the door. "So, what do you want to do for the next twenty minutes?"

  "Go to the store," Suze started.

  "And buy Sweetie Eaties for breakfast tomorrow," Sam finished.

  Kate laughed. "Is it possible Sweetie Eaties was the sponsor of one of those cartoon shows you're getting too mature to watch?"

  "Well, kinda," Sam said.

  "But the cereal is really good for us," Suze explained. "Each bowlful contains vitamins and niacin, and, and…all kinds of nutritious sounding things. Sweetie Eaties will help us wake up in the morning, too. The guy in the commercial said so."

  "With a name like Sweetie Eaties, I don't doubt that one bit," Kate replied. "Did he mention the sugar content when he was listing all those other good things the cereal contains?"

  "Noooo."

  Grocery shopping had been on the to-do list for the day, but after all the excitement she'd planned on shifting the chore to Thursday morning. Still, with ready helpers—regardless of their ulterior motive—the trip might be accomplished faster than usual. "Let me get my purse, and we'll head to the supermarket. Can one of you grab the shop-paks?"

  "I will!" they chorused, taking off at a run and never slowing down until belted into the van.

  The bright lights in the Bennington supermarket gave Kate a sense of security she hadn't felt in days. Despite the more populous community, evening shopping was less busy than during the day, and Kate relished being able to move through aisles with little likelihood of running across one of the small but growing number of Hazelton residents she knew.

  Before pulling out a shopping basket, she helped Sam and Suze look for one of the miniature ones the manager kept ready for helpful and restless children. She knew the kid-sized carts were a marketing ploy to get parents to buy more, but Kate practiced her own method for making sure only the things she wanted to buy got into the smaller basket. Soon everyone was set: Kate with her shop-pak full of coupons and preprinted list, and the girls with their own small shop-pak and an equally pint-sized shopping list, along with drawn or expired coupons to pretend they were shopping like Mom.

  "Okay, what are the rules?" Kate asked.

  "We stay together at all times," the twins chorused, pent-up energy forcing their little Nikes to dance circles in the aisle as they waited to start the scavenger hunt. Though she had no doubt Sweetie Eaties would be the first item cannonballed into their shopping cart.

  "Right, you're competing with me, not each other," she reminded. "How many items are on your list?"

  Suze whipped the list above her head to keep Sam from grabbing it. As the designated better reader, Suzanne always assumed leadership in duties incorporating words. Kate chewed her lip, wondering whether she should intervene for Sam or if doing so would simply reinforce Suze's superiority in this task. But fate always had a way of stepping in, and while she worried the twins counted together, with quick-witted Sam shouting first, "Twelve."

  Suze frowned. "A dozen," she responded, attempting to shift power her way through semantics.

  "Exactly." Kate smiled at both girls, wondering if there was a course she could take that quantified for parents how much twin-competition was good competition. "You have plenty of room in your cart for everything. But work together to find exactly what is written on the grocery list. Sizes and quantities are marked for many of the items. And again, stay together."

  "Ah, Mom," Suze groaned.

  "Can we go?" Sam almost did a full pirouette.

  "On your mark—"

  They took off as one, tearing down the linoleum aisle.

  "Don't run," Kate warned, and they slowed minutely. She smiled again and pulled her own list from the shop-pak.

  She'd given up on those little multi-tabbed coupon holders years ago and created her own out of a half-sized, three-ring binder and a box of labeled sandwich bags that closed with plastic zipper tabs. By punching holes in the bag bottoms, opposite the zipper, then labeling in permanent marker an individual coupon category on the outside of each bag, one glance showed available coupons for a needed item. Best of all, different types of coupons didn't have to share space anymore; she added more bags for a new category. Even better, she could sort and shift the coupon bags anytime her regular stores changed aisle layouts. A friend in Minneapolis recycled her son's baseball card holder and used each pocket to hold coupons, but Kate liked her own system better since it allowed her to display shopping lists and sale ads for each store in additional front bags.

  As she passed the cereal aisle the girls each clutched a box of Sweetie Eaties to her body, and jumped up and down in delight. The rules of the scavenger hunt game required the twins return to Kate as soon as they found all the items on their list, and whoever's cart held the most items won. It was usually no problem letting her daughters come out on top, despite giving them the added chore of hunting sizes now that they read well enough to usually understand the differences in packaging. Mistakes offered a teaching experience Kate appreciated. She comparison-shopped with a vengeance and double-checked each coupon and rebate, cross-referencing to the sale ad, and she usually stayed one or more items behind the pint-sized shoppers.

  The newly promoted produce man, a photo of his new son pinned to his green apron, smiled at Kate as she grabbed limes from the stack next to the mangos he sorted. She added a couple of rosy-peach-orange mangos to her cart, chastising herself for going off list. I'll be better from here on. But, if she did have to impulse buy, fresh fruit was better than cheese Danish, which was her own version of Sweetie Eaties. "Cute baby."

  "Ah." The young man's face reddened. "My wife did this. I probably shouldn't wear it."

  "I love the idea." Kate patted his arm. "How old is he?"

  "Four months. He smiles and sits up and everything."

  In the meat department she picked a nice brisket to crock cook for dinner Sunday. She caught sight of the twins as she passed the rice aisle, and they added a bag of whole grain rice to their half-filled cart. Kate was in the dairy section, getting milk for her and the girls, and soymilk for Keith, who watched his cholesterol. When she turned, she spotted Danny at the far end of the store, speaking to a pretty teenage girl.

  Keep it casual. Kate moved back the way she'd come. While she didn't plan to break up the high schoolers' conversation, if she could pull the boy away for a minute she might get a chance to pursue a few questions still unanswered in her casebook.

  Before she was even halfway to her destination, Gabriella Cavannah-Wicker appeared from the end of the bread aisle and grabbed the young girl's arm, pulling her away despite verbal protests from both teens. Kate wasn't sure what to do and waited to see
if Danny followed the women. His face turned bright red, and he shoved a hand in one pocket to withdraw a piece of paper. He stared at the scrap, his jaw clenched, then he savagely fisted the paper, threw it on the floor, and stalked off.

  She glanced around quickly, making sure no other shoppers were paying attention, then hurried down the brightly lit back aisle. The cart rolled up alongside the scrap, and she knelt to pick up the paper. A scribbled phone number but not a Hazelton exchange. Possibly a cell phone number.

  "Why don't you let me throw that trash away for you, Ms. McKenzie."

  Kate whirled and found herself face to face with Lieutenant Johnson, one hand held out, waiting for her to comply, the other holding a microwave dinner.

  "I—I didn't see you when I…" Her words petered out with her courage.

  He curled his fingers and waved them upward a couple of times, signaling he was still expecting her to put the paper in his hand.

  And she did. As much as she hated to, she dropped the number into his palm.

  "Thank you," he said.

  "Anything to keep Hazelton clean," Kate replied, angry with herself. She didn't know the law, and it was entirely possible she had no choice. But something didn't set right down deep in her soul, and she knew the reason was because she hadn't even tried to argue.

  "Are you following me?" she demanded.

  "Just buying my dinner, ma'am." He gave her a brief salute and disappeared down the soda aisle. Kate decided she'd had enough of shopping and Lieutenant Johnson for the day and searched for the girls. They found her first, everything on their list checked off and nearly overflowing the mini-cart.

  "Wonderful." Kate cheered, her anger ebbing away. "Let's go check out."

  "We won, we won," Sam cried after counting the items in her mom's basket.

  She pulled both girls into a hug. "You sure did."

  As the checker scanned the items, she scanned what she could of the rest of the store's front, looking for Lieutenant Johnson. Apparently he'd already paid and left with his one item, but she did spot Danny's back as he leaned outside against one of the plate glass windows. Maybe she still had a chance.