“Probably changing the toner in all of the printers and making sure the floors got waxed once a year. Be glad you never found out. I’m never going to unplug another toilet as long as I live.”
The smile faded from my face as I thought about the plumber’s helper that had been duct taped over Kate’s mouth and I wondered if anyone had ever replaced it. Who could have known where to find the plumber’s helper after Kate was murdered? And who would have known where the duct tape was? And who would have known that Ren was going to be under suspicion since he was in charge of all the plumbing problems in the building? “Ren, who writes the job descriptions?”
“Jeff and Kate.”
“Are they the only ones who saw them?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Why?”
“Just a thought.” A blip of a thought that refused to gel properly. Something was nagging at the back of my brain, something someone at the newspaper had said about job descriptions and duties but for the life of me I couldn’t recall who or what. “Well, good luck to you, Ren. I hope you love your new job and that you and your family are very happy living in Chicago.”
“Thanks, DeeDee.”
Picking up my cardboard box of belongings, I started on my round of good-byes. First up was Caroline Osborn. “I came to say good-bye,” I told her, pausing next to her cubicle.
Caroline looked up from her computer, her eyes troubled. “I heard Jeff canned you. I’m sorry, DeeDee. You really tried and I admire that.”
“Thanks. I suppose with both Ren and me leaving you’ll be busier than ever.”
“Don’t count on it,” Caroline said. “I’m quitting too. I just nailed a job at that restaurant where we had lunch on your first day. I’m going to make more money as a waitress than I do here.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. I start next week. I’m going to go tell that cheap bastard we call our boss that he can take my two week notice and stick it. Virgil makes five grand more a year than I do and he only works part-time and he’s not completely exhausted like I am most of the time. This job is crap.”
Wow, the paper was going to be down three reporters. Maybe Jeff would take back my firing. “Did you read my column in yesterday’s paper?”
Caroline blushed. “No…I rarely read this rag but I heard about it. That’s why you got fired, right? Listen, DeeDee, don’t worry about who killed Kate. They’ll be caught sooner or later.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m dating a police officer who told me that the police are very close to arresting someone and it isn’t Kate’s goofy husband.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
Caroline lowered her voice. “This is between you and me and no one else, all right?”
I nodded, my heart thumping in anticipation. “Of course.”
Caroline hesitated before leaning forward. “The police think it’s––”
“Are you still here?” Bob Meredith did his usual barging in act, rudely interrupting Caroline. “I thought you were fired. What are you hanging around for?”
“I’m saying good-bye to the people I like,” I said.
“You haven’t said good-bye to me yet,” Bob responded.
“I’m sure an award-winning journalist like you can figure that one out,” Caroline said. “Look, DeeDee, I’ve got to get back to work. I really shouldn’t say anything anyway.”
“About what?” Bob asked.
“None of your business,” Caroline replied before pressing her lips firmly together. I knew I wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. Darn Bob Meredith anyway! I picked up my box one more time.
“Good-bye,” I said to Caroline. “Maybe we can have lunch together sometime.”
“I’d like that. Come to the restaurant and I’ll get you a discount.”
“I’m usually free for lunch too,” Bob chimed in but we both ignored him. I left the newsroom for my last time. I’d say good-bye to the one other person I liked and then my foray into journalism would be over.
Walking down the hallway, I lingered outside the room where Kate had been killed. I hadn’t been in there since it had happened. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and stepped inside.
The room was used mainly for storage and it didn’t look like anyone other than the police had been in there since Kate’s murder. I stared at the floor, trying to picture Kate’s body there. For some reason I couldn’t get that plumber’s helper out of my head. It was such a macabre twist. What was the point of it? I simply didn’t get it and standing in the creepy, dark room was doing absolutely nothing to illuminate me. Caroline was right; better leave it to the police.
My cardboard box and I left the room.
“Where are you going?” Natalie asked me when she spotted me carrying the box, the classic sign of an employee on the way out. “Did you quit or did you get fired? I read your column, DeeDee. Did Jeff let you go?”
“He sure did.” I set the box down on Natalie’s desk and sighed. “I guess I can’t blame him although his response was a little extreme to me.”
“Like maybe he had something to hide,” Natalie suggested.
“Aren’t you worried about him listening in on us?” I asked. “You never used to want to talk at your desk.”
Natalie waved a hand nonchalantly. “No, Jeff’s too busy to spend time watching me like Kate used to do. He has a full plate that’s going to get even fuller if you’re leaving.”
“It was his choice,” I replied.
“Hey, I just heard that the police questioned Kate’s husband but they didn’t charge him with anything. Looks like they don’t have a person of interest anymore.”
“Natalie, I wrote that column because it’s making me nuts that Kate’s killer hasn’t been found yet and no one around here seems to really care. Why are the people who work at this newspaper so unfeeling? So cold?”
“Good question,” Natalie said. “I suppose it’s because they ran out of energy a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong—I still love working for a newspaper but I’ve got to admit that the atmosphere at this place is a major downer. Especially with all that added junk they stick on our job descriptions. Like Ren doing the plumbing. If he hadn’t hired someone else to do it for him, I’m sure he would have had a nervous breakdown by now.”
“What are you talking about? I thought Ren did the plumbing himself.”
“Sometimes when he gets swamped he has a friend of his come in and do it for him. Nice looking guy too. Looks a little bit like that old school actor—what was his name? Gregory Peck.”
“What?” The only person I knew who looked like Gregory Peck was Fritz Scheider. Good heavens, could he be the one Ren had do the plumbing? “When was he here last?”
“I don’t know. A few months ago. I think it was around the fourth of July when some wise guy flushed a cherry bomb down the toilet. I always suspected Kate of doing that just to get Ren’s goat.”
My mind was racing. If Fritz had been to the newspaper then he knew where the plumbing supplies were kept and he also knew his way around. Plus if he came in to murder Kate, since they knew each other she wouldn’t have been alarmed. Oh, my gosh, and my daughter was interested in Fritz and might be visiting him at the hospital at that very moment! “I forgot something upstairs. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure,” Natalie said but I was gone before she had the word completely out of her mouth.
Upstairs I found Ren in the break room. “Ren, Natalie just told me that you outsourced your plumbing work. Is that true?”
Ren blushed. “Yeah, I did do that on occasion. A friend of mine is great at plumbing so when I couldn’t stand it I asked him to help me out.”
“What’s your friend’s name?”
“You know him, DeeDee. It’s Fritz Scheider. He’s great at everything—plumbing, brilliant chemist, knows everything about computers. I don’t think the guy has ever failed at anything.”
“Why didn’t you tell me thi
s before?” I demanded. “You knew I was with Fritz when he collapsed.”
“Yeah, I knew that but I didn’t exactly want to tell everyone that I was getting a ringer in here to do my job. Besides, what’s the big deal?”
I stared at Ren, my mouth unable to form a coherent sentence. I had to get to Jane and tell her to stay away from Fritz because if what I was thinking was true, I knew who had murdered Kate Weston. Without another word, I ran out of the newsroom, out of the building and dashed to my car moving faster than I had in years. I had to find Jane and make sure she was safe.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I kept chanting as I sped toward Kutrate Kemicals with my cell phone pressed to one ear. Normally I never attempt to talk on my phone while I’m driving but this was a definite emergency. I kept getting Jane’s voice mail and after my third attempt I tossed the phone on my seat in a panic. Common sense had reminded me that Jane wouldn’t be visiting Fritz on a Monday morning. She would be at work but just to play it safe I drove past her apartment building on my way to the plant. My motherly sixth sense paid off; Jane’s Avalon was parked in its usual spot. She wasn’t at work and that in itself was a major red flag. Standing on the brakes, I made a sharp left into her building’s parking lot.
If Jane was at home and not answering my phone calls, something was seriously wrong. I parked my car and then called 911. “Hurry!” I shouted. “Send someone to 1924 Southbridge Road, apartment 706! My daughter’s in trouble!” I ended the call and then ran to the building. Jane had reluctantly given me a key a year earlier and as I rode up in the elevator I searched for it on my key ring. I knew I should call Steve or Tyler but there wasn’t time. I had to get to Jane before Fritz did.
Outside her apartment door I could hear muffled voices coming from the inside. Jane was in there and she was talking to someone. The thought occurred to me that I might be about to burst in on an intimate moment—that would explain why she hadn’t answered my calls—but I didn’t care. I’d much rather be embarrassed by catching my daughter in a romantic interlude than devastated if a deranged killer murdered her. But I needed to calm down. If Fritz was holding her hostage I needed to keep my wits about me.
Slipping the key into the lock I slowly opened the door. The voices were coming from the small den at the back of the apartment. I recognized Jane’s voice. Straining my ears, I recognized the other voice. It was Fritz. My heart thundered in my chest as I tiptoed down the hallway.
“…we are so close to winning, my little pet! Bernard Morton is going to have to admit that he poisoned me and then I’ll be in the position to get my formula back and I won’t have to share it with anyone—except you, of course, my darling.”
“That’s wonderful, Fritz, but I really do need to get to work.” Jane sounded calm but I could hear the faintest strain of tension in her voice. “We can celebrate tonight, all right?”
“You aren’t going into work,” Fritz announced. “We are going to go to the airport and fly somewhere where no one can find us, not anyone from work or any of your friends or that nosy mother of yours. It will be just the two of us. I have to say that your mother has been a great disappointment to me, my little cupcake. I thought she’d help me nail Bernard Morton but instead she was a waste of my time.”
“I’m sorry about that and what you’re describing sounds lovely, darling, but you know me. I can’t stand to leave any loose ends. I want to go into work and clear off my desk.”
“That’s one of the things I love most about you—we have so much in common. I, too, can’t abide loose ends.” Fritz chuckled. “Especially ones that have big mouths which is why I had to take care of that horrible woman, Kate Weston. She was about to ruin everything. That was one loose string I enjoyed tying up.”
“You…you killed Kate Weston? Why?”
“Because she betrayed me. Betrayal is something else I can’t abide. She said she would help me with money to do extra research and then she changed her mind. She said she’d help me break my contract with Kutrate but she didn’t. She said she’d never tell anyone about my brilliant secret diet aid but she lied. She lied about everything.” Fritz’s voice had become as cold as ice. “You’ll never betray me, will you? You’ll never, ever lie to me, will you, Jane?”
“But I don’t see how you could have killed her. Everyone thinks it was an inside job, that someone on the newspaper killed her.”
Fritz chuckled again. “Like your idiot mother wrote in her column yesterday? Truly, Kate, she should stick to tweaking Toll House cookie recipes and putting them on her Facebook page. I thought she was a true journalist but she’s just a mommy. No, I did it. I snuck in, hid in a closet, killed her and then left via the back steps. I even thought to tape the plumber’s helper over her mouth so that it would look like my so-called friend at the paper did it. Easiest thing in the world.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Because Ren never thought twice about asking me to come in and unplug toilets for him but he also never thought twice about forgetting to thank me adequately. A free subscription to that rag of a newspaper is not my idea of true gratitude.”
“I thought there were cameras everywhere. That’s what my mom said.”
“Cameras can be disabled if one knows what one is doing. I, my love, always know what I’m doing.”
I heard Jane gulp. “Fritz…I don’t know…murder…that’s too much for me.”
“Are you judging me, Jane?” Fritz asked harshly.
“No! It’s just that––”
I heard him take a step toward her and I couldn’t stay in the hallway a second longer. The police would be there at any moment but I couldn’t wait. “Stop it!” I yelled. “Get away from her!” Grabbing the object closest to me, I jumped into the den and brandished a rolled up umbrella at Fritz. To both of our amazement, it popped open and one of the spikes poked him in his right eye.
“Ow!” Fritz screamed while Jane cried, “Mom! Mom! He’s crazy! Get out of here!”
Footsteps came from the hallway and within seconds, two burly police officers entered the room. “She blinded me! Arrest her!” Fritz shouted, pointing at me.
“What’s going on here?” one of the officers asked.
“Arrest him! He killed Kate Weston! I heard him confess!”
“Arrest her! She’s a menopausal crazy woman who tried to poke my eye out!” Fritz screamed.
The next few minutes were pandemonium as everyone shouted at each other. After several fruitless minutes filled with accusations, the police put the three of us in separate cars and drove us down to the station. Jane and I rode in the back seat of one police car while Fritz rode in the other. Jane was crying quietly the entire way and I patted her hand, feeling about as useful as a turnip. “When will I ever meet a nice, not crazy, not married man, Mom?” she asked when we arrived at the police station.
“It will happen,” I predicted. “One of these days you’ll meet someone wonderful, just like I did.”
Jane sniffed. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”
I wasn’t so sure it was ever going to happen either but I didn’t say so out loud. “We’re here,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
“DeeDee, you either have the worst luck or the best luck in the world,” Steve told me a few hours later. “You both could have been killed, you know. One of the policemen told me that Fritz is having a complete break from reality. He’s still convinced that Bernard Morton poisoned him and refuses to accept that what he had was food poisoning. I’m wondering if all of this isn’t related to that cockamamie drug of his. Maybe homicidal tendencies are a side effect of long term exposure to ‘Fat Off.’”
“Maybe Kate figured that out,” I said. “What I can’t figure out is why he volunteered to be my Deep Throat when he was the killer.”
“He must have thought he could outfox you,” Steve suggested.
“Maybe. I suppose we’ll never know. I’m just glad
I only got a couple of whiffs of that spray. Being skinny isn’t worth any side effects.” I snuggled up next to Steve. He had come home early once he heard what was going on. Jane was upstairs taking a bath and Tyler was asleep, blissfully unaware how close Jane and I had gotten to, well, I’m not sure what but something mighty scary. My whole family was under the same roof and all was right in the world. Even better, Kate’s killer had been caught and our daughter had been rescued before she got really involved with a homicidal maniac. “I even got my job on the paper offered to me again. Jeff Hamilton called and apologized.”
“Are you going to take it back?”
“Maybe for a while but I think I’ve had enough of newspapers. I think I’d like to try something new.”
Steve groaned. “Why don’t you take some time off and just hang around here for a while?”
“What about our retirement account? I didn’t have the chance to add much to it, you know.”
“So we’ll be old and poor. So what as long as we’re together?” Steve kissed me.
I returned his kiss. He was right; as long as we were together we could handle anything.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marlo Hollinger is a Midwestern author who enjoys reading, cooking, walking her dog and watching old mystery movies. For as long as she can remember, Marlo has wanted to write books that solved mysteries. Like her protagonist, DeeDee, Marlo has been married to the love of her life for almost 40 years. The cat in the photograph is Boo.
The first book in her Midlife Crisis mystery series was Catered to Death. Black and White and Dead All Over is the second in this series.
If you liked this book, please consider posting a review on your favorite retailer’s website.
For more Cozy Cat Press books, visit our website at: www.cozycatpress.com
Black and White and Dead All Over: A Midlife Crisis Mystery (Midlife Crisis Mysteries) Page 23