Murder in the Stacks (A DAFFODILS Mystery)

by Mary Clay

  "God's truth," I said.

  Ruthie was silent, staring into her coffee.

  Penny Sue nudged Ruthie. "Are you listening?"

  "Oh, yeah. I was thinking about Kevin. I wonder what he had for dinner." She held up her plate. "I'll bet he didn't get coconut cream pie."

  "Now, don't go getting all sentimental on us. This is a small town and they probably buy their food from Publix Supermarket, too. Remember how Aunt Bee on the Andy Griffith Show used to feed the prisoners in Mayberry. They always got the meal she was serving at home. Dessert and everything. New Smyrna Beach's local lock-up is so small, they probably have a contract with a nearby restaurant. Kevin will be out soon. The lawyer Daddy found should be meeting with him right now." Penny Sue suddenly turned to me excitedly. "Oh, you don't know! Daddy called while you were gone. He said the lawyer was on his way to visit Kevin ... and ... I've gotten an offer on my house! Daddy wouldn't say much except that the offer was very promising. I'll tell you, if that deal goes through, I'm going to manage my money a lot better this time. No more of all-of-the-eggs-in-one-basket, no matter how promising the investment looks. I'm spreading my investments around from now on. And I'm going to be frugal. Only one or two designer outfits per season. The rest of the time I'll dress like you, Leigh."

  "Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

  "I just meant that you're better at managing money and more careful with your clothes budget. After all, you are an accountant. I didn't--"

  I waved her off. "A good place to start is at the New Smyrna Ladies' Investment Club that meets at the library. You might learn a lot."

  "You're right. Those women are all skinny and dressed to kill. Maybe they get discounts at the upscale department stores," Penny Sue said.

  I shook my head. "No, I meant you might learn how to invest. I believe they pool their money and have created their own little mutual fund. All of them don't wear designer clothes like you and Ruthie, but they are well dressed."

  "And skinny. Maybe they went in together and hired a personal trainer."

  I would never understand the workings of Penny Sue's mind. For a person wolfing down pie, skinny was a strange thing to harp on. "I think they meet tomorrow at the library. Ten a.m. as I recall."

  "Ruthie, do you want to come with me?" Penny Sue asked.

  "No, I have to stick around to oversee the alarm installation. I'm going to use Poppa's financial advisor for the time being, and I have my eye on another investment."

  I knew Ruthie was referring to her bookstore, but the comment went right over Penny Sue's head.

  "The alarm system!" Penny Sue swung around to me. "Did you arm Lu Nee 2? You know it has that remote control TV monitor. If anything happens, we could see it from over here."

  "Did you figure out how to work it?" Ruthie asked.

  "No, but I found the instructions. I thought you and Leigh could decipher them. I believe we should keep a remote eye on the place tonight in case the burglars come back. I wonder what they're after. Your place doesn't look fancy enough to have a lot of electronics and expensive stuff."

  I reared back. "First you make fun of my wardrobe and now my condo. Penny Sue, that is too much even for you!"

  "Wait." Ruthie signaled stop. "She makes a good point. We should go next door and get our jewelry and other valuables. Leigh, then you and I will figure out how to operate Lu Nee 2's video," Ruthie smiled sweetly, "while Penny Sue does the dishes."

  I smirked. "That's a good plan."

  The instructions for the robot made no sense at all. English was clearly not the first language of the booklet's author. After more than an hour of arguing and frustration, we broke down and called Carl, our friend Fran Annina's MIT genius son. He happened to be home and agreed to come over.

  Already a millionaire in his late twenties, Carl lived with his widowed mother and was still single, since his passion was science and not the opposite sex. I'd tried to fix him up with my daughter Ann, but they didn't click. I reckon it had something to do with the fact that Carl and his best friends were Star Trek fans whose favorite indulgences were Trekkie role playing games (in full costume). Ann wasn't ready to be a Klingon. Even though Carl spent most of his time inventing GPS and stealth technology for high tech firms, the Trekkie thing was a deal buster. Sigh. Ann didn't marry a millionaire, but her few dates with Carl made her take a second look at the old diplomat she dated, and almost married, while an intern at the British Embassy. In comparison to Carl, the old guy was sluggish and stuffy, Ann said, and she wasn't ready to waste her youth. Hallelujah! I'd be forever grateful to Carl for bringing Ann to her senses.

  It took Carl about fifteen minutes to set up the remote view feature for Lu Nee 2. We all huddled around him, listening intently to his instructions on the remote camera's operation, with the hope that one of us would understand and remember it, when Guthrie burst through the door.

  "Man, we got a problem!" Seeing Carl, he stopped short and did the hand across chest salute. "Hey, dude. Good to see you. Kill any Romulans lately?" Carl returned the Klingon greeting.

  "Cut the foolishness!" Penny Sue shouted. "What's the problem, and where's Alice?"

  Guthrie did some head and hand gyrations that basically asked if he could talk in front of Carl.

  "Spit it out," I said. "Carl's a friend we trust. Did something happen to Alice?"

  A pained expression flashed across Guthrie's face. "Yeah. She's locked in the Medical Examiner's building."

  Penny Sue's face turned so red I thought she might explode. "How could you let anything happen to my aunt?"

  "Kevin's mother," Ruthie threw in.

  "Man, it wasn't my fault. While I worked on the computers, Alice went snooping around. Well, when the night shift came in, they hustled me out of the building since I was in a sensitive area. I tried to find Alice, claiming I'd left a voltage meter somewhere, but this big, mean looking doctor, like, pushed me out of the door and told me to come back tomorrow. He said he'd put the meter on the receptionist's desk if it turned up. What should we do? What if Alice hid in the refrigerated room with the bodies?"

  Ruthie's hand went to her heart. "Gracious, what should we do?"

  "Calm down," Carl instructed. "There's nothing to worry about. This is no different than my war games. We'll get her out. I have a slew of strategies up my sleeve. Guthrie, do you know if they have two or three shifts?"

  "I think two. See, I didn't check my answering machine until after nine this morning. The Medical Examiner apparently called in the middle of the night and wanted to know if I could come in at four a.m."

  "Okay, the current crew will probably leave at four. We can get Alice out then," Carl said.

  "But, they have these fancy electronic locks," Guthrie objected.

  Carl smirked. "No problem. I can get through them in a minute."

  "What if there's an alarm system?" I asked.

  "Five minutes," Carl replied.

  "Yes, but what if she's hiding in the cooler? Alice is old. She could catch pneumonia if she's stuck there until tomorrow morning," Ruthie said.

  Carl stroked his forehead. "You're right. We should probably try a diversionary tactic first. Something to get the night crew out of the building while another group sneaks in and finds Alice. How large was the staff, Guthrie?"

  "I only saw four. All doctors and lab techs, I guess."

  "Any commotion will likely draw them all out. Do you want me to call my buddies?" Carl asked. My stomach knotted at the thought of a Klingon assault.

  Silent until this point, Penny Sue flexed her jaw. "No. I've got an idea. Ruthie's so skinny and pale she can fake an illness. How about Leigh bangs on their door, screaming for a doctor. Ruthie will be lying on the ground in a fetal position. As everyone runs to help her, I'll shoot them with the liquid taser." Her eyes flashed.

  "No shooting, Penny Sue," Ruthie said tensely. "And, I do not look sick! I have a milky complexion."

  "Wait, I've got a better idea,"
I said. "Penny Sue, you're dramatic and have a more commanding presence than I do." That made her smile. "You bang on the door and lay on the dramatics about Ruthie. If you lay it on thick, they'll all come running. Guthrie and I will slip in to look for Alice. Carl will drive the getaway car."

  "You're right--I do have a commanding presence and could do a better job of attracting their attention. You know, I took a drama class once. The teacher said I had a wide range and a unique style," Penny Sue bragged. "Even so, I'll hide the taser beside the building in case the staff comes back too soon. Then I'll shoot them."

  "No shooting!" Ruthie insisted. "Just pretend you're having a heart attack or something."

  Or you're pregnant and having contractions, I thought wryly. I did a mental cheek slap at having such ugly, catty thoughts about one of my best friends. But hey, Penny Sue'd insulted me a couple of times recently. What goes around comes around. At least I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut.

  "Man, that's a good idea," Guthrie said. "What if they don't come out?"

  "Then we'll wait until their shift ends, and I'll get us into the building," Carl said.

  "What car do we take? There will be six of us, and my Lemon Aid bus isn't very fast."

  "I need a few instruments from my workshop. I'll come back with my Bronco."

  "Good deal. Let's do it." We did a sloppy high five.

  Chapter 11

  Carl had a big, black SUV, the kind you see on the TV detective shows. A good thing, because the back cargo area was packed with equipment--a satellite dish, car batteries, several black metal boxes with a lot of dials and lights, a tool kit, and assorted handheld instruments. When Carl said he could get us into the building, I believed him. I just hadn't expected an all-out alien attack. I suppose he wanted to be prepared for anything.

  The five of us were piled in the van, headed north on I-95. Carl took a left on International Speedway Drive, named in honor of the Daytona 500 car race, and a right into the government complex that housed the Medical Examiner's office. We'd worked out a cover story before we left New Smyrna Beach.

  Penny Sue and Ruthie's car broke down, and they were waiting for help, when some sinister looking men pulled up behind them offering aid. The men tried to force Penny Sue and Ruthie into their van, but the two broke away and ran to the government complex. When they reached the lawn in front of the Examiner's office, Ruthie collapsed. She supposedly had asthma. To make the story look real, they both smeared dirt on their clothes before we left our condo parking lot. Penny Sue even put a couple of twigs in her hair.

  Guthrie and I were dressed in black so we could hide in the darkness before sneaking in the building to find Alice. Guthrie owned a black tee shirt with FBI stamped on the back that I wore. Since the staff might recognize Guthrie, if we happened to be caught, I could pretend I was arresting him. Penny Sue groused that it wouldn't be an issue if we'd just let her bring the liquid taser, but Ruthie insisted there would be no shooting. Carl told us not to worry. If we were caught we should put our hands over our ears and hightail it back to the SUV. He could disable the medical staff with sound waves. That was the point of the dish. Having a genius friend sure comes in handy.

  For the most part we were silent for the entire trip, each of us mentally rehearsing our part in the charade about to unfold. Carl parked at the intersection of a cross street close to the Medical Examiner's lot. We piled out of the van and headed to our marks, as they say in the theater, while Carl opened the rear window and positioned the satellite dish.

  Guthrie and I pressed ourselves against a chain link fence on the side of the building, close to the door, as Ruthie curled up in a fetal position on the ground about fifty yards away. With everyone in place, Carl gave us the high sign, and Penny Sue went into action.

  "HELP! HELP! We need a doctor," she hollered, banging on the door. "HELP! My friend is dying!" She banged so hard I was surprised the glass didn't shatter. "MURDER! HELP!"

  Well, the girl did have a unique style, as her drama teacher said, because her performance drew the entire staff. The burly doctor who'd kicked Guthrie out of the building earlier in the day opened the door, the rest of the staff huddled behind him. Before he could get a word out, Penny Sue grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the building screaming, "My friend is dying! Our car broke down and some men tried to kidnap us. She has asthma. She collapsed. You've got to help!" Ruthie was heaving loudly and twitching. Someone said, "I'll call 9-1-1," and Penny Sue screamed, "No, the men are following, you have to come out and protect us."

  A slight bald guy in a lab coat pushed past the big doctor and raced toward Ruthie. "Come on," he yelled. "This isn't Central Park. I'm not going to stand around like a wuss and watch someone die!" That's all it took for the entire group to rush to Ruthie's aid. As the bald doctor examined Ruthie, Penny Sue was blubbering hysterically and hanging from the neck of the big guy. The others formed a barricade facing outward, as if on the lookout for the kidnappers. The moment the staff left the building, Guthrie snagged the door before it shut and we both slipped through.

  He pointed to double doors directly ahead. "You check the cooler. I'll check the offices down this hall." He hooked his thumb to the right. "Hurry."

  Hurry was an unnecessary command. I flew through the doors whispering, "Alice, it's Leigh. Are you in here? Alice. Alice." She wasn't in sight. The place was dimly lit, cold, and creepily sterile. I stopped in the center of the room and gazed at a bank of lockers. Lockers--the kind they store bodies in. Dead bodies--one of them was probably Abby. Mangled and dissected bodies. A wave of nausea swept over me, and I swallowed my gorge trying to summon the nerve to open a locker. Surely Alice hadn't crawled in one of those. Still, she was pretty gutsy and might do it in a pinch.

  I clenched my teeth and tiptoed toward the bottom locker on the left, when a metal door suddenly hit my leg. Yeow! I must have jumped halfway across the room as a scene from Night of the Living Dead flashed through my mind. Frozen in place, I watched a skinny leg extend from a compartment below a countertop. Then another leg, and hands. Old hands. Glory, it was Alice! I rushed to help her to her feet.

  "Well, it sure took you long enough," she gripped, straightening her shirt indignantly.

  "Sh-h," I whispered and guided her to the reception area. Guthrie was headed our way shaking his head. The sight of Alice put a spring in his step and in an instant he was hustling us out of the door and across the parking lot toward the SUV. It wasn't a minute too soon. Ruthie was sitting up, and the tall doctor had pulled free of Penny Sue's grasp. "I'll call the police," he said, clearly eager to get away from Penny Sue and her screeching. At that moment, Carl jogged toward the group calling, "Mom, I've been so worried!" Everyone stopped what they were doing, except two women who moved to block Carl's path.

  "No, it's okay," Ruthie said weakly. "That's my son. We called him when the car broke down and left a message on his voice mail."

  Carl picked Ruthie up and gave her a bear hug. "I was so worried. I found your car and have been riding around searching for you. You should have stayed with the car." He set Ruthie down and turned to Penny Sue. "Are you all right?"

  She grinned thinly. "Yes, I'm just shook-up. It's a long story. These nice people helped us."

  "I should still call the police," the burly doctor said sternly.

  "Call the police?" Carl asked incredulously.

  "Some men in a van tried to kidnap us," Ruthie told him.

  "There was no van close to your car," Carl replied.

  "We got away and ran." Ruthie turned to Burly. "Don't call the police. I just want to go home. We didn't see their license plate or anything--it was dark and we were so scared."

  The slight doctor who vowed he wasn't a wuss patted Ruthie on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself. You should probably buy some pepper spray."

  "Thank you all for helping my mother." Carl herded Ruthie and Penny Sue toward the SUV. "And I promise they'll buy pepper spray. In fact, I'll buy it for them myself.
"

  They piled into the SUV, and we took off slowly. "Wow Ruthie, that was, like, an academy award-winning performance," Guthrie said.

  "Carl wasn't bad, either," Penny Sue added with true admiration. "He almost had me believing he was Ruthie's son."

  "When you play war games, you learn to think on the fly. I heard the comment about calling the police and figured I'd better intervene."

  "How in the world could you hear that comment?" Ruthie asked.

  "The dish," Carl replied. "It can pick up and send sounds. Hey, Guthrie, can you reach the dish and pull it back so I can put up the back window?"

  "Sure, man, no problemo."

  Alice was sandwiched between Guthrie and me in the backseat, her arms crossed across her belly. I assumed it was because she was cold. Wrong. "Well, doesn't anyone want to hear about my day?" she asked tersely, pulling a manila folder out the bottom of her shirt.

  Guthrie's eyes were saucers. "Wow, is that what I think it is?"

  Alice grinned smugly. "Part of Abby's file that I found on a counter. I haven't had a chance to look at it, but I heard a lot while I was hiding under the counter."

  "Well, don't keep us in suspense," Penny Sue said.

  Alice leaned back and rolled her shoulders. She was clearly playing her part for all it was worth. "Like Guthrie and I heard earlier, Duffy died from compression asphyxiation. The tox report arrived and proved there wasn't enough snake venom in his body to kill him. The poor fellow was suffocated by the weight of the books." She hugged the folder to her chest and took a deep breath. "They also got Abby's report. The heart attack was caused by an overdose of nicotine."

  "Nicotine?" I echoed.

  Guthrie scooted forward excitedly. "I noticed Abby was wearing a patch on her arm when she came to tell Kevin she was going to debate him. It must have been a nicotine patch! I'll bet she went to the bathroom to sneak a cigarette. Maybe she was having a panic attack and thought a cigarette would calm her nerves. She could have smoked two or three, which was probably enough to cause an overdose."