Murder in the Middle: A Susan Wiles Schoolhouse Mystery

by Diane Weiner

  “Maybe it was an old boyfriend or something. Was she seeing anyone?”

  “Like I told the police, she’d been seeing one of the math teachers here for the past few months. They seemed happy. His name’s Mitch Coniglio.”

  Susan made a mental note of the name and leaned forward in her seat. “What can you tell me about her family? Were they close?”

  “Her parents live in Rhode Island. Sophie’s an only child. She was married, you know. Poor thing. Her husband, Adam, had a terrible accident. Sophie was with him when he died. They were on a picnic up at Lake Minnewaska. They went on a hike and he fell over the edge of a waterfall. He died immediately.”

  “How awful. Poor Sophie. How do you recover from something like that?”

  “To make things worse, there were rumblings that she deliberately pushed him. Something about him being afraid of heights and how he never would have gotten that close to the edge. Sophie would never have done something like that. Ridiculous. It’s been over two years now. Mitch is the first man she’s been out with since Adam’s death. I took that as a sign she was progressing in the healing process.”

  Spoken like a true guidance counselor, thought Susan. “Is there any chance Sophie would have just felt the need to get away for a while? That she went voluntarily?”

  “Without her purse or for that matter, her car? No way.”

  “Thanks, Elaine. I’ll see if I can find anything. You know, that blond police detective you spoke to earlier is my daughter, Lynette.” Saying that still made Susan beam with pride, the same way she beamed when she told people her son Evan was a medical student.

  “I know. I remember seeing you both together on the news last year after the murder case at the high school was solved. Looked like you were quite the team. She was pregnant then.”

  “Yes, she was.” Susan whipped out her phone. “Here’s a picture of my beautiful granddaughter, Annalise. She’s walking now.” Susan was always ready to show off her grandbaby. She’d even learned how to take videos on her phone and how to post pictures on Facebook.

  “My Lord, how beautiful,” said Elaine. “Look at those blond waves, just like grandma.”

  Susan wondered where her own blond waves came from. She had no idea what her birth mother looked like. The parents she grew up with both had dark hair.

  “She got the blond hair from Lynette, and the waves from Jason, her Daddy. Jason is already showing her addition facts on flashcards and speaking to her in French. He’s really into education, being a college professor and all.”

  “Enjoy her. You know how fast they grow. And thanks for trying to help. The quicker Sophie is found, the better. I’m trying not to think about what situation she may be in right now. This used to be a safe little town. We moved up here when the kids were about to start school because New York City had too much crime. Here, we could raise our kids in a safe environment and Bob could hop on the train and commute to his job. Nice being a stone’s throw away from the big city.”

  “Westbrook is still a great little town. We’ll find Sophie.” Susan hoped she was right. On her way home, she pulled into the parking lot of the two-story, brick police station to drop off the bracelet. Maybe, she thought, if she talked fast, Lynette wouldn’t be able to butt in with questions about the delay in reporting it.

  “Lynette, I found something in the parking lot this morning. It probably has nothing to do with Sophie’s disappearance, but I thought you’d want to see it just in case.” Susan took the bracelet out of her purse and spilled it onto Lynette’s desk. “One of the links is broken. I found it in the parking lot.”

  “Looks like a bracelet.”

  “I already checked the faculty roster, and I asked Antonio if he knew anyone named Caleb associated with the school. No luck.”

  “Mom, did you wear gloves when you picked it up? I’ll bet you ruined any possibility of getting fingerprints off of it. And what took you so long to bring it over here?”

  “Well, Kinsey Malone has been hard at work I see,” said Jackson. He strolled into Lynette’s office, a bag of Fritos in hand.

  “Maybe you should have been doing the footwork yourself, Gomer Pyle.” Jackson always sided with Lynette and made it clear that Susan’s help wasn’t needed or appreciated.

  “The guy Sophie was dating is named Mitch, so it doesn’t belong to him,” said Lynette. “It had to have been dropped recently, since the snowplows cleaned up after the storm the other day. It would have gotten swept away.”

  “Wasn’t there a kidnapping case just a few months ago? The media was all over it for a while, but I haven’t heard anything about it in weeks.”

  “We’re looking into it,” said Jackson. “There was also an unsolved case in Marlboro last year. Could be the same guy.”

  Susan glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. Mike’ll be home soon and I should do something about starting dinner.”

  “I’ll be wrapping up here soon too. The daycare closes at six,” said Lynette.

  “Hey, Gomer. Tell your beautiful fiancé I said hello.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Theresa,” said Jackson.

  Chapter 5

  Susan heard the sound of the key opening the front door. Even after spending decades together, her heart still gave a little flutter in anticipation of seeing Mike.

  “Hi, Hon. How was your day?” asked Mike. He sat his lunchbox on the kitchen counter and gave Susan a kiss. She ruffled his wavy brown hair. Mike had the same chestnut eyes as Lynette and was handsome in a rugged, trustworthy sort of way. He worked in the building permits office down at City Hall.

  “What’s for dinner?” he asked. He took the lid off the saucepan that was beginning to boil over on the front burner of the stove.

  “That’s couscous,” said Susan. “I have tofu baking in the oven.” Susan knew he’d rather be eating lasagna and French fries––so would she––but they’d been sticking to their healthy eating plan for quite a while already and she’d tried her best to keep the momentum going. Mike had lost twenty pounds since they started. Susan had gained five. She chose to blame it on aging rather than her affinity for Mint Milanos and cookie dough ice cream.

  “Antonio Petrocelli called me this morning.” She proceeded to fill him in on the events of the day. “We’re thinking the owner of the bracelet, Caleb, or else the same person responsible for two other abductions may be responsible.”

  “Is that we as in you and the police department?”

  “Well, of course. I’m the one who found the bracelet, you know.” Susan recognized a defensiveness in the tone of her own voice.

  “Just be careful. I don’t want to be putting out an Amber Alert for my wife.”

  After dinner, Susan looked on the internet for information about Sophie Bartolo and Mitch Coniglio. She found Sophie’s marriage license, and an obituary for her late husband, Adam Bartolo. Poor man was only 38 years old, thought Susan. According to the obituary, Adam was survived by his wife, his parents, and a brother. Then, she searched for silver identification bracelets. They were available on many different websites, and, of course, in jewelry stores. Trying to find the source of this particular bracelet was next to impossible.

  Mike sat down next to her on the sofa. “You might try the local jewelry stores,” said Mike. “Caleb isn’t a very common name. It’s possible someone might remember engraving it.”

  “That’s a good idea. There are only two jewelry stores in town. It’s a longshot, but worth pursuing.”

  Having finished with the case for the evening, she went on her adoption website. Over a year ago, she’d been blindsided with the news that she’d been adopted. After the death of the woman who Susan thought was her mother, she’d found adoption papers––her own adoption papers––in a safety deposit box at the bank. Having support from others in the same boat had proven to be invaluable. Thank goodness for the internet. She’d been searching on and off for her birth parents this past year, but every avenue she’d explored had le
d to a dead end. In a way, that had been a relief. She had reservations about opening this can of worms at her age. On the other hand, her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to let it rest. She wondered if she’d gotten that nosy streak from her birth mother. The mom who’d raised her would have let sleeping dogs lie.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Susan headed for the jewelry stores. The first stop was a quaint Mom and Pop shop in downtown Westbrook. The area was kept in pristine condition. Renovations were made when needed and the buildings were scrupulously clean. Susan loved Westbrook because it reminded her of a New England resort town. Her boots tap-danced across the cobblestones and into the store.

  “If it isn’t Susan Wiles. Haven’t seen you in a while. Is that wristwatch acting up again?” The owner was an elderly gentleman with a thick head of gray hair and a soft, weathered face.

  “No, T.J. My watch has kept ticking along ever since you changed the battery for me.”

  “Then how can I help you?” He looked down at her wedding ring. “Let me shine that up for you while you’re here.” He placed the ring in a steam cleaner.

  “Thanks. Got to bring Mike around so you can shine his up too. Do you happen to sell silver identity bracelets? You know, the kind that you engrave?”

  “Sure do. Are you in the market?”

  “Not at the moment. I found one in the parking lot of the middle school. It’s engraved with the name Caleb. I’d like to get it back to him. Looks like a link pulled apart.”

  “That’s odd. Those things are designed to be durable. I haven’t sold any since Christmas season and I don’t remember engraving the name Caleb on any bracelet. I’ll check my sales receipts though.” Susan half expected him to bring out a shoebox and weed through them by hand, but no. She was impressed when he pulled up the information on the computer screen.

  “Sorry, but I only sold two and they were both women’s bracelets.”

  “Thanks for checking, T.J.”

  She moved on to the other jewelry store. This one was located in the small mall that went up a few years ago next to the Walmart. The last time she’d been there it’d been packed with holiday shoppers, but on this mid-January morning, it felt like a ghost town. She found the jewelry store, which was one of those national chains. Again she had no luck. At least my ring got a much needed cleaning, she thought. She couldn’t resist going into the baby boutique and picking up a few outfits for Annalise while she was there. Then she decided to head to the Westbrook Library to look up those other two abduction cases. The librarian knew all the town gossip and had a flawless memory. Maybe she’d shed some light on the case too.

  “Good morning, Peggy. I was wondering if I could get any articles you have about those abductions that occurred this past year––the dental hygienist and the bank teller. I’m sure the Post gave those stories lots of coverage.”

  “Sure, Susan. Give me a few minutes. Are you working on a case?”

  “I can’t give you details, but yes, I am.” The librarian rubbed her hands together and went into the back room. At least some people in town recognize my crime-solving aptitude, Susan thought.

  While she was waiting, Susan drank in the musty smell of old books, the shiny new covers of the recent releases, and the dark wooden shelves––dense with knowledge and history. She’d always loved libraries. This one was housed in its original building and hadn’t undergone any major renovations.

  The librarian returned with a small stack of newspapers. Susan sat down at a table and began reading through them. Both of the missing girls had similar physical characteristics, and both had been abducted at their work places. Neither case had been solved. In all likelihood, the same person was responsible for all three disappearances. Did he know his victims, or did he choose them randomly? Did the victims know each other? Susan was determined to find out.

  Chapter 7

  Jackson and Lynette ushered Sophie’s parents into the conference room. Pamela Pearson looked very much like the photos Lynette had seen of Sophie. She was an attractive woman, but as a consequence of recent events, dark circles underscored her eyes and her shoulders drooped as if they supported a bushel full of worries. John Pearson had salt and pepper colored hair and eyes the color of sapphires. He was squeezing his wife’s hand.

  “We’re so sorry you’re having to go through this,” said Lynette. “We’re hoping you may be able to give us some direction. Was Sophie having trouble with anyone? Had she seemed upset lately?”

  “Sophie was just beginning to get herself back together after Adam’s death. She has mentioned a few friends. She’d begun to see a man named Mitch a few months ago. Mitch the math teacher––that’s how she always referred to him. We met him over the holidays. They seemed like a good couple and she was happier than I’d seen her in a long time.”

  “My wife’s right. Sophie was happy except for one thing. Someone had been harassing her. She’d received some threatening phone calls and e-mails. She thought it may have been related to Adam’s death, even at this point in time. After the accident, there had been rumors that Sophie had caused Adam’s death. Idiotic. Sophie wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  “Adam’s family turned on Sophie after his death. They swore that he never would have gone to the edge of a waterfall like that. They claimed that he was afraid of heights––had been since he was a little boy,” said Mrs. Pearson. “Adam’s brother even made a scene at the funeral, accusing Sophie of killing Adam in front of all those people. He was dressed all fancy in his air force outfit…sure wasn’t acting as dignified as he looked.”

  “Is Adam’s brother here in town?” asked Jackson.

  “No, I think he went back oversees as soon as the funeral was over.”

  “What motive did people think Sophie had for murdering her new husband?” asked Lynette.

  “Life insurance money. How pedestrian is that? Sophie had a good paying job and she was in love with Adam. It’s not like he had a million dollar policy or anything.”

  “Have you kept in touch with them at all?” asked Jackson.

  “Not at all,” said Mrs. Pearson. “The last time we saw them was at Adam’s funeral.”

  “Where do they live?” asked Lynette.

  “They’re still here in Westbrook as far as I know,” said Mrs. Pearson. “Except for Sophie’s brother, like I said. Please find our daughter for us. I’m so worried about her.” She took out a tissue and dabbed her eyes.

  “We’ll do everything we can,” said Lynette. “Have you spoken to Mitch Coniglio?”

  “No. We got in late last night and wanted to get here first thing this morning.”

  “We’ll speak to the Bartolo family and to Mitch Coniglio as well,” said Lynette. “We tried to question him yesterday, but he was out of town at an educational conference. He should be back today.”

  “We have a tip line open,” added Jackson. “If she was taken against her will, it’s likely someone may have heard screaming or witnessed a struggle.”

  “We’re staying at the Rocking Horse Ranch. Please keep us up to date,” said Mr. Pearson.

  “We will. If you think of anything else, call us,” said Lynette. She walked them out of the station. Jackson was already making an itinerary when she came back inside.

  “Let’s pay a visit to the Bartolos,” said Jackson. “After that, we can swing by the school and talk to Mitch, the math teacher.”

  Just then, Susan walked in. She filled them in on her jewelry store visits.

  “Mom, that type of bracelet is so common. I’m not surprised that you didn’t learn anything from your visits. And I don’t want you going around town asking about the case. It’s an ongoing investigation. You could inadvertently be tipping off the bad guy.”

  “Well, it was worth a shot. You know we have to explore all leads. We don’t have much to go on.”

  “We? Stop with that we stuff. This is not your case.”

  “I mean the police department doesn’t have much to go on. I looked u
p the other two abduction cases. Have you found a connection there?”

  Lynette let out a sigh. “Not yet. That trail went cold months ago and so far we have nothing new. But you know I’m not supposed to be discussing this with you.”

  “I’m just trying to help. I promised Antonio I would.”

  A distraught blond man pushed open the door to the station. His hair was mussed and he was out of breath. He introduced himself as Mitch Coniglio, Sophie’s boyfriend.

  “Officer, I just got back into town. My girlfriend, Sophie Bartolo, she’s missing. You have to find her. What happened? I knew something was wrong when I couldn’t get in touch with Sophie. When I came into school this morning, Mr. Petrocelli filled me in. He told me to come down here right away and talk to you.”

  “It’s detective, not officer, Mr. Coniglio,” said Jackson. “When was the last time you had contact with Sophie?”

  “Two days ago. I called her from the conference. I was worried about her. She’d been getting threatening e-mails from someone.”

  “Did she have any idea who was sending them?” asked Jackson.

  “She thought it was related to her husband Adam’s death. She suspected it may have been Adam’s brother. He insisted that Sophie had killed his brother. That was no secret. He was stationed in Germany––he was in the Air Force. She suspected that he’d recently come back into town.”

  “That’s a good starting point. We’ll go and speak to him. Call us if you think of anything else,” said Lynette. Mitch had calmed down only slightly before leaving the station. Jackson and Lynette pulled up the Bartolos’ address and headed out.