by Linda Wiken
“Well, as much as I can understand your feelings, I think you’re wasting your time. Detective Hastings seems well qualified to do his job, and I’ve hired a top-notch private detective, Ty Devine, to look into it, as well.”
“Why did you do that if you think the police are doing their jobs?” She wanted to hear his version.
He put his hands on the desk in front of him and entwined his fingers, leaning slightly forward at the same time. “He’s been on my payroll long before this happened. I believe this death was part of a bigger conspiracy against WBVT. We’ve had a few other incidents happen in the past several weeks, and I think this lunatic has just escalated things or maybe got carried away and didn’t mean to kill Miranda. But she’s dead, either way.”
“What else has happened?”
He took a few seconds before answering. J.J. wondered if he might decide not to share this information.
He cleared his throat. “First of all, we received a mysterious package at the reception desk, and when Wanda opened it, some white powder fell out. We called the police immediately, and the hazmat team checked it all out. It was nothing lethal, just a powder that would give the person who touched it a slight allergic reaction. Sneezing, itchy eyes. That kind of thing. A real nuisance.”
“I remember hearing about that on the news.”
“Yes, well, no media station wants to be part of the news it’s reporting.” He ran a hand across his head as if patting down his hair, which wasn’t there. “But there was no return address and no way of tracing the package. We’ve kept a close eye on everything that’s come in after that. Then about two weeks ago, one of our weather specialists was out doing a live segment on the sidewalk right in front of the station. When he’d finished and was walking back to the station, a dark truck, no markings, jumped the curb and went straight for him. The cameraman realized what was happening and pulled our weather guy out of the way, but he was bumped by the car and went down, spraining his ankle.”
“That’s frightening. No one got the plate or anything from the van?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
“A few acts of vandalism, some minor, others a bit more costly to us.”
“I suppose Mr. Devine has looked into disgruntled employees. Anyone recently fired?”
“Of course, and I’ll tell you what I told him—all firings were for legitimate reasons and no one seemed overly surprised nor angry at what happened. There were only two.”
“Oh? Who were they?”
“I don’t think I should be sharing that information with you. Privacy, you know. Ty Devine is in full possession of the details, and I’m confident he’ll figure it out. It could be some kook who doesn’t like what the station stands for or is upset about the way we covered a story. Or even someone who’s hankering for the limelight and won’t mind getting caught. That happens, but usually it doesn’t get beyond crazy e-mails.”
“Did you get any e-mail warnings about these incidents?”
He shook his head. “No. And that’s the strange thing. Everyone uses e-mail these days.”
The intercom on his desk buzzed and he held his finger in a “just a minute” signal to J.J. The assistant’s voice sounded panicky as she told him he was needed in the garage downstairs. Something had happened to the station truck.
Cooper excused himself and quickly left the room. He didn’t seem to realize that J.J. was trailing right behind him. When she slid onto the elevator just as the door was closing, he raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t say anything.
The first thing she saw when the doors opened was Ty Devine, looking straight at her.
CHAPTER 11
“I won’t even ask what you’re doing here,” he hissed at her as he directed Cooper to step over to the side, where they spoke in hushed tones.
J.J. looked around the garage. It looked like any other underground concrete lot. She wasn’t sure how many levels there were. Most of the parking slots had Reserved signs on the wall, especially those for the management level of employees.
The news department had an entire wall of signs. In the parking slot at the far end, the WBVT van she’d seen at so many live news stories was sporting a new addition to its usual logo. Angry thrusts of red and black paint crisscrossed the sides and back of the van. She slowly walked around it, taking it all in but came to an abrupt halt when Devine stepped in front of her.
“Okay, out with it.” His clear blue eyes meant business.
“What? You mean, what I’m doing here? Now? Well, I had just finished talking to Mr. Cooper when he got the call to come down here.” She hoped that would be enough information for him but knew way down deep that it wouldn’t be.
“What kind of a talk? You’re sticking your nose into this, aren’t you? Didn’t I tell you I was doing the investigating for the station?”
“I realize that,” she said, trying to keep calm. “I wanted to know more about Miranda, not the vandalism and other problems the station is having.”
“And you don’t think they’re tied together?”
She shrugged. “Do you?”
He glared at her a moment and then strode back to Cooper. After a few more minutes of talk, Cooper left, shaking his head. Devine appeared back at her side just as she was doing another pass around the truck.
“We need to have another little talk. Come with me.” He grabbed her arm but held on gently, steering her out the open garage door and over to his Acura, parked in a visitors’ section of the outdoor lot. He held the passenger door open while she slid in. She remembered one of the last times she’d been in his car and the kiss that had ended that evening, after confronting a murder suspect. She shivered in spite of the warmth in the car, which had been sitting in the sun for what felt like some time.
Devine slid behind the steering wheel and locked the doors.
J.J. made a face. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Really quite juvenile.”
His fingers tapped the steering wheel. “Don’t push me too far, J.J. I want you to talk. Tell me who you’ve spoken to and what you’ve learned so far.”
She sighed. Maybe she should tell him. Maybe he had a different take on it all. She started with her talk first with Kathi and then with Hennie and Cooper. Devine listened without comment. When she had finished, she asked, “I don’t think it’s any of them, do you?”
“That’s not something I’m going to discuss with you.”
“Well, I told you all. Give me something. Is there anyone connected to the station who might have had it in for Miranda?”
Devine turned in his seat to face her. “You really expect me to tell you that?”
“Well, yes, if you want to keep me from nosing around some more. You know that I will just keep on doing so.”
It was his turn to sigh. “You’re right. I do know. But that doesn’t mean I’m sharing any information. Last time, you almost got killed. Or have you forgotten?”
“Last time you were there for me,” she said in a quiet voice.
He reached out as if to touch her cheek but pulled back his hand at the last minute, unlocking the doors instead. “I know it’s important for you to clear Connor Mac, but let me handle this.”
She didn’t know what to say. Did he think she was in love with Connor? It sure sounded like it. But she couldn’t just go blurting out again that they were only friends. It would sound like she was interested in Devine and had regretted turning down his dinner invitation. Which she realized, she did regret. Too late now.
She swallowed hard, opened the door and got out. “You may not be aware of this, but I am also a suspect and I sure as hell didn’t do it. So I do have a vested interest. Just not the one you’re thinking.”
She shut the door firmly, lifted her chin, and strode to the side of the building, trying not to slow down on the steep incline up the street to the front of the building.
She looked at her car and back at the station. She needed the names of employees recently
let go. Who seemed the most sympathetic to her cause? Who had access to the list? She realized she was too rattled to think it through right now. Devine still had that effect on her. She cursed silently as she returned down the slope to where she’d parked her car and drove back to the office.
• • •
The entire building seemed to be empty. Evan had hung a Closed sign on his office and the showroom doors; the light in Tansy’s office was off; and Skye was nowhere to be seen. This was all good. She needed to be away from distractions so that she could double-check all the details for the upcoming Stanton fiftieth wedding anniversary. Just over one month to go. It took her less than an hour, but when she glanced at the clock, she’d missed lunch. Beth would not be pleased.
She closed the office and made her way to Cups ’n’ Roses to apologize.
Beth brushed away her regrets with a swipe of her hand. “Listen, I know you’re busy and have a real job. I’m not worried. Whatever time you can give me is a gift, so do not worry about it, please. Now, you can still enjoy something to eat, and since it’s not too busy right now, I’ll join you.”
J.J. chose a roasted vegetable salad and carried a latte for her and a regular dark roast coffee for Beth to the table. Beth joined her a few minutes later with their lunches. After two mouthfuls, J.J. put down her fork and leaned forward.
“This is really delicious, Beth. Your menu just keeps getting more interesting every time I’m in.”
Beth grinned. “I love hearing that. I’ve been so nervous about branching out into light meals. But dishes like this are easy to prepare in quantity and seem to be a hit. Now, tell me, what’s the latest with Connor?”
J.J. shook her head. “Not much, I’m afraid. I’ve been checking out the TV station, trying to find someone with a motive to murder Miranda.”
“And?”
“No motives leap out at me. But tell me, what do you think about someone who’s jealous that Miranda got the better program and time slot?”
“You mean, is that a good motive? I wouldn’t think so, because there’s still no guarantee this person would get the job, even with Miranda gone, is there?”
“You’re right. The manager thinks someone’s out to get the station and it could have escalated to murder.”
“Eww. Do you think she had a stalker?”
J.J. sighed. “That’s just it. I don’t have a clue.”
Beth looked over at the lineup starting to form at the counter. “Looks like my break is over. Thanks for coming by, J.J.” She smiled as she grabbed her dishes and went back to work.
J.J. sat finishing the rest of her salad, keeping a watchful eye on the other customers. After all, that was her role here, even if she was late getting at it today. She also gave some more thought to possible suspects. Devine had interrupted her plans for the morning. Maybe she should head back over to the TV station. Maybe he’d still be there. Maybe she didn’t care.
• • •
She waited while Wanda finished taking a call and then asked to see Kathi Jones. Fifteen minutes later, she appeared in the reception area.
“Are you back to ask me more questions?” She sounded pleasant but J.J. noticed the put-down in her smile.
“As a matter of fact, I think we can help each other.”
“Oh, how’s that?”
J.J. lowered her voice. “You must realize you’re pretty high up on the police suspect list. After all, she did beat you out of that dream job, and there were stories about your arguments.” Maybe a little bit of bluffing would help.
A look of panic quickly crossed Kathi’s face. “That’s silly. I didn’t do it.” She glanced over at Wanda. “Let’s go to my office.”
J.J. followed her down the hall to the small office at the back of the building and took the chair Kathi waved her into.
Kathi asked, “Just how can you help me?”
“I don’t think you did it, but that doesn’t mean anything to the police. But if I find the real killer …” She let it hang there.
“Okay. So, what can I do to help you?”
J.J. hid her smile. “Donald Cooper told me there were a couple of employees who’d recently been fired. I need their names and contact info.”
“You think someone who used to work here killed her out of anger?”
J.J. shrugged. “It’s a possibility. Mr. Cooper, however, thinks it’s part of the problems plaguing the station recently.” She looked closely at Kathi. “What do you think?”
“I hadn’t really thought much about it, I guess. I mean, I’m so wrapped up in my own job it doesn’t leave me much time for other station stuff. But if that’s what’s going on, it might have something to do with Mikey Cooper.”
“Cooper? Same name as the manager?”
“Dad and son. And Dad fired son a few months ago after Mikey smashed up the station van and, believe me, the van wasn’t the only thing that was smashed, if you get my drift.” She mimicked taking a drink.
“Wow. But do you think he’d take revenge on the station, even kill Miranda, because of that?”
“You’re the one connecting the dots. I just mentioned what had happened. I do know he tried to hit on Miranda, though, and she blew him off. He tried it on me, too, of course, but I let him down a bit more kindly.”
I’m sure. “Did you hear if he threatened her?”
“I wasn’t here when it happened but Wanda was. And she likes to talk. Now, if I get you the names, will you tell the police I cooperated?”
Does she think I’m working with them? “Uh, sure.”
“Okay.” She flipped on her computer and started typing. About five minutes later, she printed out the names. She’d looked up their addresses in an old station directory and added the information.
“Thanks, Kathi. This will help,” J.J. said as she left the office. That made three people who had been fired. Odd that Donald Cooper hadn’t mentioned his son, Mikey. Then again, that was probably why he hadn’t.
She glanced out at her car. Uh-oh. Devine was leaning against it.
He pushed off from the car as she approached. “So, I’m assuming you now know the names of everyone who has been fired in the past two years.”
She couldn’t judge from the tone of his voice how he felt about that, but she was certain he didn’t approve.
“I won’t get in your way.” She pulled her keys out, beeped the car open, and got in.
“It’s not me you should be worried about. I’d like to point out, again, that there’s a killer on the loose. If you’re not going to be smart, at least be cautious.” He closed her door for her and walked away.
Her fingers drummed the steering wheel. Totally annoying man. But, unfortunately, probably right. Her options seemed few. Find the killer. Find Connor. Or both.
She was acutely aware that the longer Connor was MIA, the worse it looked for him. She pulled out her smartphone and punched in Alison’s number. She answered immediately.
“I don’t have anything new to tell you. Connor still hasn’t shown, and I’m just heading into my shift. I’ll phone you later.” Alison hung up without J.J. being able to get a word in. At least she had her answer.
She looked back at the station. She needed to talk to Wanda, and to Hennie again. As Miranda’s research assistant, she had to know more than she’d let on. It was just a matter of how to approach her.
CHAPTER 12
At precisely eleven forty-five the next day, J.J. entered the front door of Cups ’n’ Roses, placed her order for the special of the day, a mozzarella and veggie panini, along with a latte at the cash register, and chose a chair with the best view of the coffee shop, at a table for two. She pulled out her iPad and clicked on her Kindle app. She’d given it a lot of thought and decided she’d look less obvious in her stakeout if she was doing something like reading. She could prop up her iPad so that it was easy enough, without moving her head, to raise her eyes and scan the other patrons. Or, if she really needed to take a longer look, she could pretend s
he was contemplating what she’d just read. Although she knew she wouldn’t remember a darn thing about the book she’d opened.
Or maybe she’d get lucky and be able to multitask. After all, the next Culinary Capers dinner was only two weeks off, and according to Beth’s proclamation, she had to at least attempt to find time to read something written by the mystery author whose recipe she’d chosen. That was Cathy Pickens, whose Fried Yellow Squash was the dish J.J. intended to make. A totally new author to her. So she’d also gone on Facebook and checked on the author’s website to learn a bit more about what kind of read she was getting into. Then online she ordered one of her earlier books, Southern Fried.
Beth served her lunch and glanced at what J.J. was reading. “Good on you, girl. I hope everyone gets into this like you are.”
“Don’t give me any medals just yet, Beth. I’m just getting started, but I thought it would be a good cover, so to speak.” J.J. grinned.
Beth chuckled. “Good luck. With everything.” She scuttled back to the counter, where yet another lineup was forming.
J.J. was truly pleased that business seemed to be booming for her good friend. Even though Beth had launched Cups ’n’ Roses before J.J. had moved to the village, she knew that it had been a risk for Beth. Newly retired from her high school music teacher position and still young enough to keep doing something active, she’d decided to follow her dream of owning a coffee shop. And admittedly, she was the first to agree that she knew nothing about running a business. During summers and the fall colors tourist seasons, Half Moon Bay did a lively business, providing a steady stream of customers. Winter was always the challenge, though, when the chilly weather threatened and tourist season had moved to the ski slopes of Stowe.
In the past few months, Beth had added a limited lunch menu to the baked goods she’d been serving right from the beginning, and it was paying off. The little shop that could! Serving coffee and baked goods was one thing, but having to invest in extra foodstuffs as the menu increased was another. Hopefully, the regulars would continue to be just that. And hopefully the theft problem would be resolved soon.