“You read my mind,” she said with a tired smile. After doing the math on whether or not a bottle and a half would get her daughter through the evening, Kate decided it would be just enough. She could pump and dump well before Josie would want her usual midnight snack.
“When is Scott getting home?” he asked, as Kate set her tool kit on the living room floor.
“There’s no telling.”
Maxwell cocked his head, reading between the lines, and she realized she shouldn’t have alluded to his new case.
“Something happened today?” he asked, interested.
“Unfortunately,” she replied. “I’m going to take a bath.”
Rather than make a beeline for the bathroom, Kate detoured into the kitchen and poured herself a modest helping of white wine. As she crossed through the living room, Maxwell was cleaning applesauce off Josie’s face.
“So...?” he asked. “You want to fill me in?”
She shot him a look that indicated, not really, but ultimately caved. “There was a murder near Sandra Conway’s house.”
“Who did it?”
“If we knew who did it, Scott would’ve been home by now,” she explained. “The guy was wearing a ski mask.”
“You witnessed it?”
She shrugged. “Just my luck, right?”
“Do you know who was killed?” He was scooping Josie out of her high chair now and helping her into her playpen.
“A guy named Nathan Robillard.” She took a few steps toward the bathroom, and then turned on her heel. “Do you know him?”
“By face and name,” he offered. “But not personally. I’ve seen him around.”
She paced toward him. “Do you know where he works?”
Maxwell took a moment to think, but it did no good. “I don’t, sorry.”
She nodded, absorbing the fact and how it impacted the uphill battle she feared Scott would be facing. Even Nathan’s parents hadn’t offered up where their son worked. Kate had hung around eavesdropping long enough to overhear as much.
Checking her wristwatch, she noted the time and took a sip of her wine. It tasted crisp and refreshing, and since she hardly indulged anymore the alcohol took its effect within seconds, but only lightly.
She smiled at Josie, who was looking up at her from her playpen, and then started down the hallway and into the bathroom where she adjusted the faucet, drawing a hot bath. As the water ran and steam billowed up, she found a bottle of bubbles under the sink and squeezed the lavender scented liquid under the faucet. Soon the water was coated with a thick layer of frothy bubbles.
She undressed after setting her glass of wine on the tiles and then eased into the hot water, which immediately began loosening her muscles. She sipped wine and breathed deeply, and after fifteen minutes, she decided she had gotten everything she could out of the time alone.
After drying off, she wrapped the towel around her, walked into the bedroom, and threw on a comfy t-shirt and a thin pair of sweatpants that wouldn’t have her overheated.
When she returned to the living room, Maxwell was building a handful of Josie’s cloth blocks into a tower inside the playpen.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, getting to his feet as Kate crossed into the kitchen to refresh her wine glass.
“That would be great,” she called out, pouring the wine. And as she returned, she mentioned, “I believe tomorrow will be my last day with Sandra, and then I’m hoping to take a few days off at least.”
He furrowed his brow, asking, “Really?”
“Shoot, Max, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just that you haven’t needed me on the weekends and it’s not like I work anywhere else.”
“I can pay you for the days anyway.”
Perking up, he said, “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I totally get it.”
He smiled, picking up his backpack, where it rested beside the couch, and slung it over his shoulder. “I should probably work on getting more customers, but I’m not sure babysitting is my thing, not in general anyway. I just like watching Josephine.”
“Do you miss contracting?”
He gave it some thought. “Not since Eddie Jackson got killed on the job.”
“Well, he was killed on the job, yes, but it wasn’t the job that killed him.”
“True.” He patted Josie’s head and she glanced up at him. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, bright and early.”
Kate held the door open for him when they reached it, and she hoped Scott would be home soon. She wanted to ask him about taking some time off, not that this would be the best timing. Until Nathan Robillard’s killer was caught and brought to justice, it was a safe bet that Scott would be working around the clock. But still, initiating the idea would have to happen sometime and it might as well be now.
In the living room, she sat on the couch, drank a sip of wine, and set the glass on the coffee table so she could lift Josie out of her playpen. “Where is your Daddy?” she asked, bouncing and swaying Josie in her arms. Her daughter giggled and clutched at Kate’s red hair. She was overdue for a trim, she thought, but had no time to stop by Harriet’s Hairdos.
Carrying Josie, she went into the bedroom and grabbed her laptop computer off the nightstand. When she returned to the living room, she set Josie in her playpen, opened the computer on the coffee table, and sat on the couch.
One of the punch cards she had seen in Nathan’s wallet was nagging at her, but she didn’t know why.
Vape Mods.
What type of business was it? It couldn’t be in Rock Ridge. She’d never heard of it, and according to the other punch cards for fast food places, Kate was getting the sense that Nathan, though born and raised in Rock Ridge, actually spent most of his time out of town.
She opened Google on her computer and typed in the name of the business along with the state, Pennsylvania, and hit Search. Less than a second later, a list of websites popped up, but she took a moment to drink more wine before scrolling through.
When she did scroll through and click on the business’s website, she was surprised to find that Vape Mods was in fact located in Rock Ridge. The address noted a strip mall on the outskirts of town, and according to the satellite view of Google Maps the store was poorly marked.
“Oh, vape,” she said out loud as she read the website over.
The store sold vaporizers and nicotine liquid, as an alternative to smoking cigarettes.
If Nathan Robillard had gone there frequently enough to earn himself a free product, then the employees might know him, or at the very least, they might be able to pull up his rewards account and let her know his home address.
At this point it wasn’t just idle curiosity or her low-grade hunger to solve murders that was compelling Kate to conduct her own investigation. She really would like to take at least a few days off from her repair work, ideally a full week, but the thought of Scott being tied up and unable to join her soured the prospect. If she could put this murder to bed, Scott would have no excuse not to use his vacation days.
Kate drank another sip of wine and noticed Josie was getting drowsy so she set down her glass on the coffee table, picked her daughter up from her playpen, and brought her into Scott’s old office, which they had converted into Josie’s bedroom.
After laying her daughter down in her crib, Kate pulled a blanket over her and adjusted the air conditioning unit in the window so that the temperature was cool but not too cold.
As she circled back into the living room, the front door opened and Scott stepped through, closing the door behind him.
Kate plucked her glass of wine off the coffee table and turned, asking, “How did it go today?”
“Rough,” he said before noticing her glass of wine.
“Want one?”
“Immensely,” he sighed. “But I can’t stay. Forensics finally identified the murder weapon and we now have a list of places to check out.”
“Was it a piano wire?” sh
e asked, walking toward him.
“Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I saw it,” she said, then drank more wine.
“Unless you have the eyes of a hawk, there’s no way you could’ve seen it from four houses away.”
Kate widened her eyes and told herself not to drink anymore wine. Clearly, her judgment was impaired and she’d just let slip the fact that she had gone up onto that roof to get a closer look at Nathan.
“Kate?” Scott asked, displeased.
Changing the subject, she said, “I’ve been thinking about taking time off. I think you should too.”
“How can I do that?”
“Once the case is closed,” she clarified. “We could spend a full week with Josie.”
“Once the case is closed?” he asked, considering the proposal. “It’s a definite possibility. Remind me again after I’ve caught the guy, and Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“You know better than to traipse through a crime scene. This time you really have to stay out of it.” He started for the bathroom, mentioning, “I just need to shower and throw on some fresh clothes.” Before closing the bathroom door, he asked, “She’s sleeping?”
“I just put her down.”
He looked disappointed. Soon Kate heard the shower running. She was all too familiar with the feeling. More often than not, when she got home Josie was already down for her nap and Kate had to wait hours for her to wake.
She crossed through to the kitchen and tried to wrap her thoughts around what to make for dinner. She had been keeping up with her intermittent walks, parking six blocks away from wherever she was headed, and the light exercise here and there had worked wonders for helping her lose the baby weight. Considering this, she decided it would be acceptable to order delivery from Gino’s, so she quickly placed the call and asked them to get it over to the house as soon as possible.
When she heard Scott lumber out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, she called out, “I got you a calzone from Gino’s! It should be here in ten!”
“I might have to take it with me,” he responded. “But thanks!”
After setting her wine glass on the kitchen counter, she walked through the living room, down the hallway, and into the bedroom where Scott was buttoning up a freshly laundered shirt, having chosen a different pair of slacks.
“What if the killer didn’t buy a piano cord? What if he owns a piano and simply cut one of the strings off?”
“You think I should be looking into everyone around town who owns a grand piano?”
“It might be a shorter list,” she mentioned.
“What if he’s a piano tuner? Or piano repair man?”
“He could be.”
“Or a piano teacher,” he added. “Then why murder Nathan on the roof?”
“Why did Nathan agree to meet him on the roof?”
Shooting her assumption down, Scott said, “You don’t know that he agreed to meet.”
“He looked like he was waiting.”
“Why the roof?” Scott pondered, as he pulled his shoes on, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She shrugged, thinking out loud. “It wasn’t the worst idea. No one would’ve seen them. The fact that I was on Sandra’s roof was a fluke.”
Scott glanced up at her. “You’re lucky the killer didn’t see you. He strikes me as the type to come after you if he had.”
His words had been light, but his tone was strong. She caught exactly what he meant and it was also a warning that she not meddle in this case.
“This guy is the most calculated killer I’ve ever come across,” he added, getting to his feet. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, holding her shoulders. “I might not have time for that calzone.”
She walked him to the front door and asked, “How late do you think you’ll be?”
“It’s hard to say. If I get back after one, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, I was only curious.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to wake the baby by stumbling exhausted down the hallway.”
He kissed her again and then opened the door, just as the Gino’s delivery car was speeding up their driveway.
“Well, that’s some good news,” said Kate, who quickly rushed back to the living room to grab cash from her wallet.
By the time she returned, Scott had already paid the delivery guy so Kate tucked her money in her sweatpants pocket.
Once Scott had grabbed his wrapped calzone, he handed her the bag and kissed her again.
Kate watched him climb into his truck and drive off, smelling her fettuccine alfredo shrimp pasta all the while.
When she reached the kitchen, she grabbed a plate and dumped her dinner onto it, found a fork in the drawer, and made her way out to the living room. As soon as she set the plate on the coffee table, she thought about having one last glass of wine and doubled back.
She sat on the couch, having poured herself a generous glass, and took a few bites of pasta.
Sandra Conway was on her mind.
She didn’t like the coincidental timing of Sandra leaving her house and Nathan being murdered. She had no reason to believe Sandra and Nathan knew one another well, but she also didn’t know that they didn’t.
Using Google on her laptop, she typed in Sandra’s full name along with the word writer and the woman’s website came up at the top of a long list. She clicked it and began perusing the various pages.
When she got to a page called, “Events,” she found a bunch of photos of the author at book signings and speaking engagements. Scrolling down the photos, Kate was startled.
There on the screen in one of the photos was Sandra with her arm around Nathan Robillard, who was holding one of her novels.
Kate studied the novel in his hands.
It was called, Notes of a Strangler, and featured a piano with musical notes on the cover.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Maxwell arrived right on time and after a quick pass off of Josie, Kate was out the door with thoughts of Sandra Conway and her mysterious relation to Nathan Robillard at the forefront of her mind.
She drove through town with the windows rolled down. It felt cooler than it had yesterday, but judging by the cloudless sky overhead, that could easily change and the afternoon could prove as hot if not hotter than it had been all week.
As she pulled along the curb in front of the split-level house, she noted Sandra’s car in the driveway. Yesterday had been a rare occasion in terms of Sandra leaving the house. For all the days Kate had worked here, the writer hadn’t so much as gone for a walk other than the day Nathan had been killed, which didn’t bode well in terms of Kate having a look around the house.
Nevertheless, she climbed out of her truck, grabbed her tool kit from the truck bed, and crossed up the walkway. She knocked then rang the doorbell, and a moment later Sandra opened the door.
“Please tell me this will be your last day here,” she complained as she had each morning.
“I’ll do my best.”
“You said that yesterday,” said Sandra, widening the door for Kate to step inside.
“A lot of writers like coffee shops,” she mentioned, gently nudging Sandra to take the hint. It didn’t work.
“Coffee shops have intolerable levels of noise, not to mention they often play music. I can’t have any sound, much less pop lyrics blaring overhead.”
Sandra was leading her to the back door, and as Kate followed her through the living room she glanced around.
There was a room off the main area, and if Kate wasn’t mistaken, she thought she saw a few guitars hanging on the wall.
“You’re a musician?” she asked, slowing her step.
“I have many hobbies, but only one of them pays the bills,” she said grumpily as she held the back door open for Kate. “If you would let me get back to work...?”
“Of course,” said Kate. After stepping outside, she turned and asked, “Any errands today?�
��
Sandra narrowed her eyes. “None that I’ve planned. I’m going to keep this door shut.”
“Right,” said Kate, as the writer closed the back door.
With her tool kit in hand, she climbed the ladder, and when she reached the top, she dragged the last box of shingles that had been sitting on the roof over to the last stretch of weathered shingles that needed to be replaced.
Kate worked tirelessly into the late morning. At times she glanced over the edge of the roof at the driveway just in case Sandra had slipped out, but her vehicle remained. She had one more row of shingles to nail down, and then this job would be over. How would she snoop around Sandra’s house if she no longer worked here?
After drawing a long chalk line, she nailed the remaining shingles slowly and two hours later, her work was complete. She gathered the leftover shingles, placing them in the box. She piled the weathered shingles into a plastic garbage bag, which she threw onto the lawn behind the house.
Placing her hammer and the box of nails into her tool kit, she looked down the row of houses to the Robillard’s roof and wondered how that little boy was holding up. Were his parents making funeral arrangements? Did the child understand Nathan had been killed?
Kate remembered when Jason and Jared were that age. They were quick-witted and highly outgoing. Every child’s personality was different, but there was something about the boy’s demeanor that didn’t strike Kate as an introverted personality so much as it had seemed he was afraid...
Which meant he knew something.
She climbed down the ladder with the box in her hand, set it on the ground, and then shimmied up again for her tool kit, which she also carried and set on the lawn. She recalled a number of trash bins out front so she slung the garbage bag full of old shingles over her shoulder and walked quickly to the front of the house.
Sandra Conway’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Kate paused, wondering why she hadn’t heard the engine fire up. After checking out which garbage bin was for regular trash, she tossed the bag into it and walked briskly to the back door.
She stepped inside quietly and looked around.
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 124