by Ritter Ames
"But why?" Meg interrupted. "Why not accuse a family member? Much more logical."
"He said he wanted the case solved fast and knew we didn't have the money for high-priced lawyers," Kate explained. "He'd used one of his fake voices to call for pizza delivery and waited by our back door for Louie to arrive, thinking he'd sneak in and hide the puzzle box. But Louie didn't just stand at the front door. Tiffany let Louie into the kitchen to use the phone, and Charles Webster Walker had to go to Plan B and use the fireworks as a backup."
"But how did he set off the fireworks and get back to your house unseen?" Gil cut in.
"He didn't," Kate continued. "He called that slimy Pearson guy from his office and said he needed to pull a prank to get someone out of a house. Pearson didn't ask any questions and brought firecrackers he happened to have left over from last year."
"Yeah, right," Meg said sarcastically. "Happened to have them lying around."
"Everyone ran into the woods, and Pearson ran away after setting everything off. That's when Walker took the opportunity to sneak into our home and plant the box in the laundry room," Kate finished. "He later swiped the van key out of my purse during the house tour, made a wax imprint like I'd guessed, and slipped it back in. The rest, as they say, is history."
Meg huffed. "Well, it doesn't surprise me Pearson was involved. He's the type to set illegal fires and probably torch small animals."
"Quiet," Gil warned. "The guy's a lawyer after all. If he gets word you defamed him like that he'll—"
"I only said he was the type," Meg argued. "Besides, he did illegally set off firecrackers."
"But why kill Sophia, too?" Keith asked.
"I can answer that one." They all turned in surprise as Constable Banks walked up to their table. "I came by to make sure you're experiencing no ill effects from this morning's excitement, Mrs. McKenzie. Your motherin-law told me where I could find you."
When Kate said she was fine, Banks faced Keith and continued, "Sophia remembered Amelia saying right after Daniel died how making everyone wait for a full accounting was silly. She also recalled how Amelia always worked out big things like her will ahead of time and wrote down her plans in her journal. Amelia's house may have been disorganized, but her mind wasn't. Earlier on the day Sophia was killed, she was at the mansion, and you found the journal, Kate. The book jogged her memory. That afternoon she called Walker and asked whether the journal, with all the notes documented in Amelia's own handwriting, could be used to validate the new will Amelia hadn't yet signed."
"He had to kill me, because he knew I had the journal," Kate said. "That’s why he chased us after the bookstore event last night and rammed our van. Because the journal wasn’t in the box of papers I took by his office the previous evening. He didn’t know that I had no idea I still had it."
Banks nodded. "And after you called to say you’d bring the journal he was afraid of the reference you'd made to the offshore account. He knew Amelia had done some digging and thought you found the evidence."
"But why was Danny trying to pin blame on everyone?" Keith asked. "Was he working for Walker?"
Banks sighed. "Danny's problems predate the thefts and murders by many, many months. Unfortunately, he has friends just as rich and mixed up as he is. His little circle of trouble keeps me and a lot of parents on high alert."
"Including Gabriella Cavannah-Wicker," Kate said.
"Especially Ms. Cavannah-Wicker," Banks said. "She has a granddaughter Danny's age. Danny is known for keeping sales records written on his hand. Natalie Wicker’s isn’t the only name people have seen scribbled next to what can only be assumed is a quantity ordered or revenue owed."
"Drugs?" Gil asked.
Banks offered a weary smile. "They're all juveniles. I've probably already said too much. Especially around a reporter. Let’s just say kids with large discretionary incomes are taxing our local police departments."
"We’ll have to use that as a reason to turn the boys down the next time they ask for a raise in their allowance. It’s our civic duty," Meg quipped. Everyone laughed.
Gil put down his pen. "Off the record. Just remember me when you have something you can comment on."
"It's a deal. Thanks."
"That's all so sad." Meg chewed her lip, and Kate knew she was thinking about kids and drugs, and hoping she never had to know firsthand. "Maybe Rosie the DARE dog needs to visit the high school, too."
"She does," Banks said. "And each trip has nothing to do with reaching out to kids in assemblies. She sniffs out trouble on a regular basis."
"Mrs. Baxter never had anything to do with the thefts," Kate mused, returning to the safer subject.
"Far as we know—no," Banks replied. "Walker said she was the original thief, but frankly I'm not ready to take his word for anything. She's currently out of state, and the family isn't even sure what, if anything, is missing. We're leaving that end of the case in closed status. The state police feel the same way. Johnson said as much before he left town this afternoon. Oh, but one thing I do need to tell you is we matched paint from your van to the damage on the front of Walker's car."
He handed Kate a police report with a yellow Post-it attached. "There's no doubt he was the one after you last night. You can give this to your insurance agent." Pointing to the sticky note, he added, "That's Walker's carrier."
"So Walker knew about the poison through the lecture," Kate mused. "Guess that means Saree and I worried over the book for nothing. I’ve been concerned that Thomas or Bill purchased it last night and had our fingerprints on the page. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway."
"And our talking about it in the van was enough to put the power of suggestion in my mind," Meg said. "When I ran into the convenience store for batteries, it was no wonder I couldn’t find a place Thomas could have hidden. Our conversation made me see imaginary enemies and danger everywhere."
Kate patted her husband’s hand. "Just like Keith always says, anxiety short-circuits the brain." The couple shared a smile.
"I still can't believe Walker spilled everything," Gil said. Ever the reporter, Kate noticed that he'd pulled out a small notepad when Banks showed up at the table and scribbled notes throughout the conversation.
"Yeah, you'd think a lawyer would keep his mouth shut," Kate said, relishing a sip of the delicious house wine. "Personally, I think he's going to go for an insanity defense. There's no other reason for singing like the proverbial canary."
"Or just get his confession thrown out," Keith mused. "He could say it was due to you bonking him on the head, and he didn't know what he was saying."
"None of it matters with Kate testifying about what he told her before she hit him," Banks said. "You are testifying, right, ma'am?"
"Absolutely." Confidence surged through her body with the words. "I can't wait."
Meg cried out, "I can't believe you said that! Katie, you're not being your normal, sweet, non-confrontational self."
"After a guy confesses to two murders, while he's trying to kill you, after he's made a hoax telephone call saying your children are being kidnapped…" Kate shook her head. "Let's just say making sure he stays behind bars is now at the top of my to-do list. After all, putting things in their place is my business."
Everyone laughed.
Banks offered a small wave goodbye. "I'll be on my way. It's much nicer seeing people in this kind of setting than in an interrogation room."
As she watched his departing figure, Kate marveled at her own transformation over the past two weeks. For someone who knew nothing about criminal procedures, and had a tendency to over-worry about everything, she'd done a pretty good job at getting Amelia's murder solved. Even if she'd never planned to get involved.
Just then, an older woman fluttered up to the table, someone who brought the word 'confrontation' to mind. The woman wore a brown dress, and reminded Kate for all the world of a bird. That thought helped her recognize the wren-wife, Margaret, of the hawk-husband, Robert.
&nbs
p; "Hello," she returned the woman's greeting. "I'm sorry, I don't know your last name."
"Baker," the woman supplied. "Margaret Baker."
Kate made the introductions all around. "Margaret was at my presentation the other night. I hope you enjoyed it."
"It has kept Robert and me arguing nonstop," Margaret replied.
"I'm so sorry—"
But Margaret cut her off. "Think nothing of it. We argue all the time, but this gave us new topics. He's always griped about what I like and want to keep, but got even worse after he retired. Your talk the other night set him off on a constant rant about what I need to get rid of, so I want to hire you."
Surprised at the woman's reversal, Kate clarified, "What exactly do you want me to do? Help you organize your house? Figure out what you can eliminate?"
"Heavens no." She gave a little bird laugh. "I want you to come in with a bunch of organizing shelves and box ideas Robert can start working on. My husband has wanted a workshop for a long time, and I think it's high time he got one. By the time he gets every closet and room organizer made, I figure he'll be too tired to complain about what he thinks I need to do."
"You're a very smart lady."
"After forty-two years of marriage you learn a few things," Margaret replied, smiling. "Well, I'd better get back before Robert has something else to fuss over. Lordy, I wish that man still had his corporate job."
The remark reminded Kate of the shocking line Amelia had said the day of her death, but she knew this woman was completely comfortable with her husband just the way he was. She looked over at Keith and smiled.
And that makes two of us.
Another client, how wonderful. She'd had a message earlier from a single father, an executive set to move his family across country, who wanted Kate's help to organize the endeavor. Things were looking up.
As Margaret Baker left, promising to call and schedule an afternoon consultation for the following week, a four-piece combo in the far corner struck up the Dean Martin classic "Everybody Loves Somebody." Keith motioned toward the small dance floor. "May I have this dance?"
Kate nodded. "This one and every one after, for the rest of our lives."
APPENDIX—Keys to Organizing Like Kate
Top 3 Laundry Tips For Saving Time and Money
For presorted socks, choose white for all everyday needs. Get a mesh bag for each family member (these are the zippered bags normally used to hold and wash delicate items) and use a laundry marker to write each person's name on each one. Give every family member his/her own, to put dirty socks in after use. When washing and drying whites, throw in the whole bag. Socks are now presorted and bags can be left with each person's other laundry.
Use white towels for every day, so it's always easy to get an efficient load of whites together when washing. You'll never again have to run a tiny load of just socks, underwear, or Tshirts.
Save time and money by avoiding dry-clean only clothes. There are almost always washable alternatives available for business and sport. The same goes for bedspreads and curtains.
Curing Closet Clutter
Install a closet organizer—styles and price ranges now vary widely.
Keep Monday-Friday clothes in one area, casual in another, and elegant/Sunday separate.
Install a second bar at half-height to double hanging capacity.
Hang ties and belts near coordinating clothes. Keep inexpensive matching jewelry and accessories in a nearby drawer, but remember that thieves are smart. Lock up your good stuff.
A pocketed shoe bag on the door frees up built-in bins for sweaters and sweatshirts.
Keep clothes untangled with plastic or wooden hangers—colors help kids remember which clothes are for play and which aren't.
Use colored, stackable, un-lidded bins in kids' closets to sort clothing—socks in yellow, pants in blue, etc.
Install hooks so small children can hang things up themselves.
Store out-of-season clothes in under-the-bed, rolling drawers.
Sort sheets into sets, placing a full set inside its coordinating pillowcase. This way bedding can all be quickly found, there is no need to fold perfectly, and sets are more easily stackable in linen closets.
Attach towel racks inside a linen closet door to hang tablecloths.
Meal Organization
Keeping clutter under control makes everything more organized and accessible.
Organize and multi-task. Don't just read the recipe to decide what must be done first. See what things can be done at the same time. Example: chop veggies while water boils, or prepare sauce while pasta cooks.
Begin cooking what takes the longest, chopping and slicing while waiting for oven or pan to heat.
Clean while food is cooking, washing as many utensils as possible. If cook-time will be long, use this kitchen-time to organize the fridge or pantry. Fill pans with hot water and soak dishes while mopping floors and vacuuming.
Take meat out of the freezer to thaw overnight in the refrigerator, and you won't forget to pull it out during the morning rush.
Cut up onions and peppers ahead of time to store in pint size baggies for the freezer, then add the desired amount right to the skillet whenever a recipe calls for them.
Plan meals ahead of time to cut down on the last minute grocery store trips.
When cooking to a recipe, put ingredients away as they are used.
Cook once, eat twice. Cook a roast in the crock pot and divide leftover meat for a quick skillet dinner with vegetables and tomato sauce, or with beans for quick enchiladas.
Freeze leftover broth, and additional meat can make a quick vegetable beef soup.
Think big! Cook lots at one time. Bake chicken, boil chicken, grill chicken, and freeze for quick ingredients to casseroles or skillet meals during the week. Brown ground beef and make hamburgers all at one time.
Pre-wash and separate lettuce leaves so they are ready for the week. Saves time making lunches and salads for dinner. Or buy pre-washed, prepackaged salad fixings for crunch times. While prepackaged costs more for the convenience, having salad ready and waiting in the refrig is usually well worth the cost for a fast meal ready on crazy days.
Buy extra hamburger on sale. Divide meat into quart-size freezer bags, then flatten and freeze. It only takes minutes in the microwave or skillet to defrost the smaller servings, and they can be added to any dish. Another timesaver with on-sale hamburger is to divide meat into patties and place, flat and not touching, in gallon-sized freezer bags. Lay bags in the freezer, patties in one bag stacked on patties in the next. When you need a quick meal, add either singularly or a whole bag-full, right to the skillet for fast burgers.
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About the Author
Ritter Ames lives in a small town in the middle of America, but spends each day dreaming up crimes and creating chaos in her characters' lives. ORGANIZED FOR MURDER is the first cozy in her Organized Mysteries series, and she has another series, the Bodies of Art Mysteries, starting with COUNTERFEIT CONSPIRACIES, also published by Gemma Halliday Publishing. Ritter tries to blog regularly at ritterames.wordpress.com and uses her Pinterest boards at www.pinterest.com/ritterames to capture great places and ideas she wants to use in both series. Follow her blog and boards to learn more about Ritter and her upcoming books.
BOOKS BY RITTER AMES
Bodies of Art Mysteries:
Counterfeit Conspiracies
Marked Masters (coming in 2014!)
Organized Mysteries:
Organized for Murder
SNEAK PEEK
of the first
Bodies of Art Mystery
by Ritter Ames:
COUNTERFEIT CONSPIRACIES
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C
HAPTER ONE
Clouds shrouded the moon. The Dobermans, Zeus and Apollo, snoozed by the rose bushes after devouring the tasty treat I had offered. Waves crashed in the distance and gave the crisp sea air a taste and smell of salt spray. The estate's showplace lawn ended a hundred yards away at a private beach.
Like my previous visit, I wore head-to-toe black. For this jaunt, however, I hadn't donned the ebony-beaded Vera Wang halter gown and Jimmy Choo stilettos I sported the last time. No, for the current foray, my Lycra garb more closely resembled Catwoman with my blonde hair hidden under a dark hood. Night vision goggles finished off the ensemble. The difference between arriving invited versus an incognito—and illegal—entrance.
As I slipped through the mansion's side door, the left wall security pad flashed. I patted the ring of leather pouches attached to my belt and removed a cute little gizmo I'd picked up in Zurich that resembled a garage door opener. Only this handy gadget decoded electronic security systems, rendering them harmless. The tiny warning whine never had a chance to turn into a scream; my device made friends and invited us to enter.
I slipped down the rear hall and up the staircase that my research had uncovered in a back issue of Architectural Digest. At the upper landing, infrared lasers protected the area from unwelcome visitors. I opened another pouch, withdrew a small, specially formulated aerosol can, and sprayed in a sweeping pattern. As the particles fell, laser lines were revealed in vivid detail. Seconds later, I'd picked the lock on the turret gallery door.
The last time I stood in that room the master of the house provided a guided tour and made a blatant pass beneath the gaze of a Dutch Master. My ability to deflect the Lothario took grace and diplomacy, plus restraint to curb my strong desire to disable his favorite body part. Still, the event had been worth the effort. A six-month quest was over, and I had found my Holy Grail of paintings.