Death Loves a Messy Desk

by Mary Jane Maffini

  “And I didn’t!”

  “Oh, not so much, Charlotte.”

  “This woman, Dyan, called me to tell me that she had to talk to me about Barb Douglas. It was the middle of the afternoon, during a workday in a respectable business. How could I know it wasn’t safe?”

  “That’s not what I said. I told you not to get involved. So when the woman called you, you needed to tell her that it had nothing to do with you. You could have referred her to the police. And now look.”

  I felt tears sting my eyes. “Pepper, they told me she’s dead.”

  She was pale under her makeup. Up close I could see that she wasn’t feeling as well as she looked. “I am aware of that.”

  “I tried to get you to listen to me. Do you think she’d still be alive if I’d sent her to the police?”

  Pepper slumped into the hard plastic chair next to the chrome bed. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “And I suppose I could sue the police for harassment.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I just said that so that Nick would learn a lesson. He’s putting his feet in everything lately.” Pepper stroked her baby bump and glowered. Something told me that Nick had been foolish enough to make some remark to send Pepper through the roof. His life would be hell until he groveled enough to make that remark go away. I almost felt sorry for him.

  “So you don’t really think that I killed that woman?”

  “Of course not. But you could have been killed. And this was a clumsy attempt to frame you. What will it take to keep you from meddling in police business? Just go home, do your little closet fix ups and your color-coded rituals and leave the investigations to people who know what they’re doing.”

  Behind her, the curtain was whipped open again. I saw the pasty face of the young cop. She was hovering behind the fresh new doctor.

  “What’s going on here?” the doctor said.

  Pepper barked, “She’s bleeding. Someone has to take a look at that wound.”

  “Actually,” she said, “it’s just a scrape. I’ve just been able to get a look at her X-rays, and she was very lucky.”

  I sat up. “As it’s my X-ray of my head, Doctor, I think you should talk to me. Directly.”

  “Very lucky and very crabby, too,” Pepper said.

  “Another inch to the left and a blow like that might have been fatal.” She did turn to me, but her gaze drifted back to Pepper.

  “Told you,” Pepper said, shooting me the kind of look your mother used to give you when you got hurt falling out of a tree you’d been told not to climb.

  “So I was lucky?”

  The doctor said, “Yup. Are the police still waiting to question you? Because we want to monitor you for another two hours. And I don’t think you should be under any more stress. I’ll keep you overnight if they’re talking about taking you in.”

  “They have her statement,” Pepper said. “She should just go home and go to bed.”

  “Is there someone who can keep an eye on you?”

  “Oh sure,” I said. “Maybe a few too many people.”

  “You don’t fool around with head wounds, even superficial ones. Any dizziness, nausea, and you get someone to bring you back in right away. Are you paying attention to this?”

  “She is,” Pepper interjected. “And she will. There are half a dozen people waiting to take on the job.”

  “Good.”

  “Thank you,” I said, but the doctor’s white coat had already disappeared behind the curtain. “Thank you, too, Pepper, for intervening with Nick and this officer.”

  The officer sniffed.

  Pepper said, “Now you listen up. Your luck can run out, you know. This better be the end of it.”

  I nodded, although it hurt.

  Pepper said, “Margaret called me. She’s on her way back. Sally had to go home for a bit to give Benjamin a hand, but she’ll be back, too. They’ll take you home.”

  “Sure thing. Is Jack coming, too?”

  Pepper looked uncomfortable, although I told myself that could have been the bump. “No.”

  “Oh. Didn’t they call him?”

  I noticed that she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I guess they couldn’t reach him.”

  “Right,” I said brightly. “He’s been involved in this bicycle race, hard to connect with him lately.”

  “Exactly,” Pepper said, sounding relieved for some reason. “When you do get home, you’ll rest and recover from your head injury, and then you’ll just go about your own business. No more nosing around. You see where it leads. Right?”

  “For sure,” I said.

  I meant it, too. There was no way I’d have anything else to do with anyone at Quovadicon. But it bothered me that I still had no idea what Sergeant Pepper Monahan really knew about the brutal killing of one woman and the disappearance of another.

  15

  Having trouble making a decision at work?

  Write down the pros and cons for your top choices

  and give a numerical weight to each.

  Add up the numbers and the best option will be much clearer.

  I jerked awake in a foggy state and gasped as a pair of icy blue eyes sent a chill down my spine.

  “Don’t get up,” a voice said from the chair next to the hospital bed. The voice had a cool edge to it, too. Nothing warm and fuzzy about this visitor.

  “Gaak,” I said, struggling to sit up.

  “Sorry?”

  “My head is spinning again,” I said, speaking more cogently this time.

  “I’m Detective Connor Tierney with the Woodbridge police.” He was sitting, fiddling with his silver keys, but Margaret was watching quietly from the sidelines.

  “I’ve seen you on television,” I said, trying not to be hypnotized as the keys spun in his hand. Up close, I could see that the keychain was a silver lion’s head.

  “Hmm. I’ve seen you on the news, too.”

  “None of that was my fault,” I said.

  “It’s never my fault, either,” he countered. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened today. Are you up for that?”

  “I guess so. Nick Monahan already interviewed me. Am I still a suspect? Are you going to haul me in for questioning? You’d better check with the doctor first. And my lawyer . . .”

  “You won’t be hauled anywhere. Nick Monahan is—”

  “Special, I know.”

  “I’ve read your statement. You said you misplaced your cell phone.”

  “I did not make that phone call in order to clear the building so I could bludgeon Dyan with a stapler.”

  “Glad to hear it. We do know that the call came from your cell, so work with me here and let’s try to figure out where it could have been taken from you.”

  “Taken from me? Oh. I thought my dogs hid it. They do things like that. They’re very cute, though. I love them a lot and—”

  “I know you’ve had a blow to the head, but let’s assume your dogs didn’t make this call. I’m guessing they don’t talk. So who had access to your cell phone?”

  I stared back at him. He was better looking in person than on television. But he still made me nervous. Pepper didn’t seem to like him, and I’d had the impression that she didn’t trust him, either. That sure didn’t make it easier for me to open up. At any rate, I still couldn’t remember. I shook my head.

  “Try.”

  “I have an incredible headache,” I said, trying to ignore the pounding in my skull.

  Fifteen minutes later, I still hadn’t remembered. Connor Tierney reached into his well-tailored pocket. A different suit, I noticed despite the headache, from the ones I’d seen on television. Classy, well-cut. Not at all Woodbridge. He handed me a business card.

  “Think about it,” he said. “Give me a call if you remember.”

  “I’m trying. Whoever did that wanted me to look guilty.”

  He raised a pale orange eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

  He made me very nervous. I found myself tal
king way too much. “Why did they bother to hit me on the head? Who ever heard of a self-clobbering suspect?”

  He stood up to leave and tucked the keys into his pocket. “Think about that cell phone. And if I were you, I’d make sure I wasn’t alone.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Margaret said.

  Even though I felt better when I got home, Margaret insisted she’d sleep on the sofa bed in the living room. There was no sign of Jack, and anyway, I might need a lawyer, she added.

  The next morning I began the day by sitting up in bed and cuddling with my dogs. Sally arrived to take over. She made me breakfast in bed. Hot buttered wheat toast with homemade strawberry jam and a giant mug of hot chocolate all arrived on a tray. That distracted me as she moved the television set into the bedroom. Margaret spent her time on the phone doing business, but she must have cleared her parents’ convenience store out of Mars bars. I found that endearing. Our friends Rose and Lilith phoned from L.A. I gathered that Sally had texted Lilith with the news. It all helped, including knowing that the Mars bars would be there for snacks. I needed to keep up my strength.

  Still no sign of Jack. I pretended that I wasn’t pouting about that.

  As the headache faded, I distracted myself by checking through my agenda and trying to assess whether my weekend appointments would need to be rescheduled. While my nose was in the agenda, I worked through my schedule and tried to figure out when I had last seen the phone.

  I’d had it to try to call towing before Mel and Del showed up. That reminded me about them. Were they really employees of Quovadicon, or had Fredelle lied about that, too? I made a note to myself to mention it to Connor Tierney when I called him about the phone.

  I’d used the cell to call Margaret about a spontaneous dinner the night she had the date. I’d first noticed the phone missing when I was outside the police station, and I’d searched my apartment afterward. Where had I been in between? A lot of my activities hadn’t been in my agenda, as they fitted under the “spontaneous snooping” category. I’d been to Barb’s apartment, but I hadn’t used the phone. Nor had it been out of my possession. I’d been to Sally’s place. Though one of the children might have played with it, they couldn’t have made a phone call to clear Quovadicon.

  I’d been to Pepper’s. I’d left her alone with the phone when I got the Oreos. I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak my phone to see if I’d called her sleazy husband, but again, why would she make the Quovadicon call?

  Then I’d returned to Barb’s apartment, but again, no way to lose the phone there.

  I’d spent time with Robbie, but he hadn’t been alone with my handbag. I’d been to the library to see Ramona. Ditto.

  After that, I’d gone back to Quovadicon. I left my handbag and briefcase in the public area for a couple of minutes while I rushed after Fredelle. Anyone could have swiped my cell phone then. There’d been a lot of extra people milling about the office that day. Could one of the clients or suppliers have taken it?

  Dyan could have taken the cell and faked the call herself. She was nosy and bold and didn’t seem to understand the notion of boundaries.

  Autumn was such an airhead that she wouldn’t have noticed any or all of them rummaging through my possessions. If Autumn had seen Dyan, she might have been too intimidated to question her.

  Just in case, I made a note to myself to ask her.

  At one point I’d chased after Missy in Hannaford’s and left my cart behind, complete with handbag where anyone could have rifled through it. That meant the entire population of Woodbridge and neighboring communities could have swiped it, although logically, I knew it had to be someone involved in this case, especially as the thief had left my wallet with cash, ID, and credit cards.

  I bit my lip at this. People were right. Leaving my handbag where anyone could get it? How dumb was that? Obviously, I was losing it over this whole business with Barb Douglas.

  I picked up my phone and called Connor Tierney’s number. It went straight to voice mail. I left a message saying where the handbag had been out of my sight, although I hesitated before including Hannaford’s. What kind of flake leaves her handbag alone in a supermarket? Of course, I was pretty sure he already thought I was a flake. And I prefer to be a flake than a suspect, any time.

  After that, I took out my frustrations by building a case against the people who seemed to be involved with most aspects of this troubling case. I jotted my points down on separate pages in my spiral notebook. I discounted Paula and Jim as well as Missy early on. The only thing against either of them was that they knew Barb and had been near my purse. That left Fredelle and Robbie. It helped that I was really ticked off at both of them.

  The case against Fredelle

  • Lied about Therapy Dogs. To get on my good side? Create sympathy? Trust?

  • Used intro to bring me in on very short notice to see Barb’s desk. Why urgency?

  • Set up whole situation. Was I a ploy? For what?

  • Had personnel files with addresses and contact numbers

  • Could have seen the man in the blue car, heard news, and made connection with Barb

  • Did she call Barb with bad news?

  • Fredelle got frequent calls from Reg Van Zandt. Why wouldn’t she recognize his voice?

  • Banned me from the building after questions about Barb and Robbie

  • Did I touch on something threatening? What?

  • Said Mel and Del didn’t work there—lying?

  • Threatened by Dyan, who wanted her job. Was Dyan about to reveal something?

  • Overprotective of Robbie. How far would she go?

  • Would she kill Dyan and try to frame me? Two birds with one stone?

  The case against Robbie Van Zandt

  • Unpredictable and emotional, poor social skills

  • Infatuated with Barb

  • Could have spied and seen man in blue car with Barb

  • Did he kill him? Overcome with jealousy?

  • Overreaction about Barb’s desk. Why? Did he know she was missing?

  • Angry with me

  • Hated Dyan and threatened her

  • Had access to my cell phone in office

  • Could he have made the phone call? Faked his father’s voice?

  I obsessed over both lists. Robbie seemed more likely than Fredelle, but there was no question they were both behaving erratically. But really, Fredelle seemed so kind and gentle and Robbie so inept it was hard to take them seriously. Deep down, ticked off or not, I hoped that neither one had shot the man in the Impala or caused Barb to disappear. Not to mention killing Dyan and injuring me.

  I turned to Sally. “I wonder if I should just give these lists to Pepper.”

  “Why bother? She’s being a total bitch,” she said.

  “She’s not,” I said, “although a reasonable person could be forgiven for thinking that. When Pepper’s being a real bitch, it’s much worse than this. Remember? She’s just trying to keep me out of it.”

  “You’re such a pushover, Charlotte.” Sally sniffed. “Although maybe she’s on to something. That head wound was pretty serious.”

  “The serious part is Dyan’s death and the guy in the Impala, plus Barb Douglas’s disappearance. Pepper knows something about this case and about Barb, too, and she’s known right from the beginning. That’s why she warned me off.”

  “What do you think she knows?”

  “I could tell she recognized Barb Douglas from the way she reacted to the photo. At that point, I thought maybe they’d been friends, neighbors, who knows. Now, I’m not so sure that she actually knew Barb or whether she knew something about the case. Nick could have blabbed at home about something. I can’t figure it out. She also told me to mind my own business, but what else is new?”

  Sally perked up. “What if the cops know that Barb’s dead, and they also know she has a relationship with the victim, but they don’t want the killers to know that they know? Face it, Charlotte. This g
uy had to be a criminal. The average citizen doesn’t get killed and stuffed into a car trunk.”

  “Are you suggesting that Barb might be a criminal, too?”

  Sally shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  I said, “That might explain it.”

  “What?”

  “Everything. Barb wasn’t running to this man.”

  Sally said, “Just say it, Charlotte. Don’t drag it out.”

  “Okay, Barb heard about the murder at work. She was shocked, horrified. Robbie said she sounded anguished. I saw her face. She had one hell of an emotional reaction. But maybe she wasn’t just running to him. She was also running away.”

  Sally blinked.

  “Think about it. She rushed to the crime site. Then she must have raced home. She was in such a panic that she left the door open even though her beloved cat might escape. She grabbed whatever she would have needed to survive. If she knew things could get dangerous, maybe she kept a little suitcase packed. Anyway, she took off. No one has seen her since.”

  “But her SUV was still there,” Sally said reasonably.

  I said, “Maybe she couldn’t take the chance of being seen in that car. Maybe she took a cab. Or walked. Although the crime scene was miles from Lilac Lane.”

  “What if she rented a car?” Sally said.

  “That’s possible. Or maybe she had access to another one somewhere. Or maybe someone she trusted picked her up and drove her. However she traveled, she was scared, and I am sure that she had good reason to be.”

  Sally frowned. “But she’d be exposed. Woodbridge isn’t that large. Someone would be bound to see her. She’d need a place to stay, food—”

  I thought about our friend Lilith, who had told me stories from her life on the streets. “You can disappear easily. You can sleep in the woods, change your appearance. You can steal a car if you want.”