Murder Is Private

by Diane Weiner

  Susan’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was Audrey. She sounded calmer than she had this afternoon, but Susan heard lingering fatigue in her voice. The call was short, and Susan relayed the conversation to Lynette.

  “Audrey wants to meet us for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “That sounds good. What a day. Let’s order some room service, watch a little TV, and hit the sack. I’m exhausted and I’m sure you are too.” Lynette yawned as she spoke.

  “Check the menu while I call Dad. I’m in the mood for some comfort food. Macaroni and cheese, French fries…and ice cream for dessert. Chocolate. I’ll go back on my diet after breakfast tomorrow.”

  Chapter 3

  Franklin Avenue, an eclectic mix of franchises and Mom and Pop shops, was teeming with students, shoppers, and tourists, even at this early morning hour. The line at Starbuck’s snaked out to the sidewalk. A closed sign hung from the door of Jo’s Antiques.

  “What a cute street,” said Lynette. “Looks like a cross between a college town and a resort destination.”

  “Audrey said the café is next to Barnes and Noble,” said Susan. “I see it.”

  Through the latticework window with the frilly white curtain, they immediately spotted Audrey drinking coffee at a round table.

  “Susan, Lynette!” she greeted them. “Hope you got a good night’s sleep.”

  “Slept like a log,” said Susan.

  “And how are you, little lady?” Audrey bent down to Annalise’s eye level. Annalise receded into Lynette’s pant leg, then gradually snuck a peek at Audrey. “Well, at least she didn’t cry when she saw me this time.” She smiled at the toddler.

  Lynette ordered a stack of pancakes for herself and a scrambled egg with toast for the baby. Susan wished she could eat all those calories and stay as trim as Lynette. She ordered an egg white omelet, inspired by looking out the window at an array of short shorts and mini-skirts. There’d be no hiding beneath bulky sweaters on this trip. Audrey’s phone vibrated on the table.

  “Good morning, Dean Whittiker. Yes, that’s true. I know, it’s already all over the news. She was our music teacher….walking at night through the arboretum. No, she wasn’t on school business. We do have a security guard….yes; he’s in the hospital. No, we didn’t replace him. Lawsuit? Yes, I’ll go over it with the school attorney. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Are you okay?” said Susan.

  “The owners of our school are concerned about a lawsuit and keeping Hemingway High’s reputation untarnished. The sooner Celia’s murder is solved, the better.”

  “I’m sure the police are making it a priority,” said Lynette.

  Susan had a million personal questions for Audrey, but saw the fatigue in her eyes, and heard the stress in her voice during the phone call. She decided to put them on hold for the time being. She’d focus on the present and, as the waitress set down their food, she asked, “Have you gotten any updates about the murder?”

  “The police are working on it. That’s all I know. We opened the school as usual this morning. The board of directors decided that was best. Of course, the arboretum is closed off. I already have an answering machine full of parent calls waiting for me in my office. Now I have the Dean on my back, too.”

  “On the news last night, the reporter mentioned an armed attack and a suicide. What’s that about?” said Lynette. She took a bite of her blueberry pancakes.

  “Please,” said Audrey, “that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Our principal was in a horrible, unexplained car accident recently. That’s why I came back. I’m retired and enjoy being a respected emeritus, but I would do anything for this place. Headed it for forty years. Our principal is still in the hospital and they need me to run the show. There’s speculation she was run off the road, but it hasn’t been proven. She’s been suffering from short-term memory loss since the accident, so she’s not able to give the police any details about what happened that night. Thank God they’re predicting a full recovery.”

  “Why did you warn me to stay away?” said Susan. “Celia hadn’t been murdered yet then. What were you anticipating?”

  “Besides the suspicious accident, a security guard was severely beaten a few weeks ago,” explained Audrey. “He’s still in the hospital. I didn’t want you walking into danger. Now I have to find someone to replace poor Mrs. Watkins––the murdered woman. Not that she’s replaceable. Few substitutes are capable of teaching music. And some are afraid to come, especially since the attack on the security guard. Now what? Those poor students. This incident could scar them for life if not handled sensitively.”

  Susan started to open her mouth, then noticed the daggers shooting out of Lynette’s eyes and stopped herself.

  Audrey continued. “Parents are going to pull their kids out of our school. We’ve enjoyed a wonderful reputation for years, but this could drive us right into bankruptcy.”

  Susan took a deep breath and, avoiding Lynette’s eyes, made Audrey an offer.

  “You know, I still have a valid teaching certificate. Maybe I could give you a hand.”

  “Oh, Susan, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I could fill in at least until the fuss dies down. I’m sure the police will catch the perpetrator soon.”

  “You’re a Godsend ten times over!” gushed Audrey. Susan watched her biological mother’s worry lines melt. “Tomorrow…”

  Lynette interrupted. “But, Mom…”

  “I know what you’re going to say, honey, but it’s just to get the students through the crisis. They need me.” She took a sip of coffee.

  Lynette sighed. Susan knew she was angry, but figured she’d understand once she thought about how badly Audrey needed her help.

  “Can you start tomorrow?” asked Audrey. “I’ll show you around the campus after breakfast. We have an amazing choral suite.”

  Susan unfolded the umbrella stroller and buckled Annalise, still holding a piece of toast, into it. The sun was warm, and Susan shed her sweater as soon as they were out the door. Audrey led them to the campus.

  “This is the original building. The stones were brought over from Italy. When subsequent buildings went up later, the Italian stones were replicated. You’d think the whole campus went up at once.” Susan could tell this wasn’t the first time Audrey had given this tour.

  “Are there classrooms in there?” asked Lynette.

  “Originally, yes. Now it’s our main auditorium. We store scenery and props upstairs.”

  “Are those dorms behind it?” said Susan.

  “That’s the girl’s dorm. The boys are housed over by the arboretum. Come on, this is the music building.” They followed Audrey through the heavy wooden doors. As soon as they entered, the sound of violin études, piano arpeggios, and a symphony of winds and brasses engulfed them, reminding Susan how much she missed teaching music. Of course, she kept that secret close to her chest. Retirement was wonderful. Isn’t that what everyone said?

  Audrey led them to the second floor choral suite, complete with built-in risers and acoustic tiles. “First and second periods are ear training classes,” said Audrey. “Music History is period three. The rest of the day is for chorus rehearsals.”

  “This is a lovely set up,” said Susan. “I’m looking forward to meeting the students.”

  “We have the best of the best here. Students audition from all over the country to get a spot. We even have a handful of international students. We’re more like a conservatory than a run-of-the-mill performing arts high school. Let’s go to my office,” suggested Audrey. They walked across the quad to the administration building. Susan compared this five-building campus to Westbrook High back home. It was easily triple the size. When they walked into Audrey’s office, a handsome detective was waiting for them.

  “The secretary said to wait in here,” said the detective. As he stood up, his eyes fell on Lynette. The corners of his s
erious mouth turned up into a smile.

  “Lynette? Lynette Wiles? What are you doing here?”

  “Kevin? Kevin O’Hara? Is it really you?”

  “Sure is. I haven’t seen you since we left the academy. I swear you don’t look a day older.”

  “I’m flattered. It’s Lynette Green now. This is my daughter Annalise, and you remember my Mom, don’t you?”

  “Mrs. Wiles. How could I forget? I was your star tenor back in the day.”

  “You sure were. Look at you now. Detective, living in sunny Florida. Glad things worked out for you. Are you married?” Susan and her husband Mike had expected Lynette and Kevin, the golden couple from Westbrook High, to marry. The whole town did. Lynette had abruptly ended the relationship shortly after their graduation from the police academy.

  “Nope. After Lynette, the bar was set so high it’s impossible to find someone who measures up.”

  Lynette had never revealed why she ended things with Kevin, so she and Mike played the role of supportive parents and, hard as it was, they didn’t pry. A year later, Lynette met Jason, and Susan never gave Kevin another thought. Until now.

  “Are you still with the police force?” asked Kevin.

  “Yes. I’m also a detective. I’m with the Westbrook Police Department, but, as you can see, I’m a bit disabled at the moment.” She patted her cast. “I came down with my Mom to meet Audrey here, my biological grandmother. It’s a long story.”

  Kevin cleared his throat. “Mrs. Roberts, I’ve been assigned to the murder case. The crime lab is processing the evidence from the scene. Meanwhile, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Ask away. The sooner this is solved, the better. Poor Celia. Her family is devastated.”

  “Was Mrs. Watkins in the habit of walking the campus at night?”

  “Not that I know of,” replied Audrey. “She lives––I mean lived––in town only five minutes away. I don’t know what she was doing out in the arboretum.”

  “Was there a meeting or some other school event that night?”

  “No. It was an ordinary, run-of-the-mill school night.”

  “Can you think of anyone who may have wanted to harm her? Did she have any enemies?”

  “Everyone loved her. She was like a mother to her students, and easy to get along with. She had a good working relationship with the rest of the faculty.”

  “If you think of anything, here’s my card.”

  “I’m going to be substituting for Mrs. Watkins, Kevin. I’ll let you know if I hear anything from the students,” said Susan. Lynette rolled her eyes at her mother.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wiles. I’d appreciate that.” He flashed her a smile perfect enough to be an advertisement for an orthodontic practice.

  After Kevin left, Audrey suggested Lynette and Susan take Annalise to the beach. “The water is still a bit cold, but I’ll bet Annalise will love playing in the sand.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Susan. “Can’t wait to see Annalise in that frilly-bottomed bathing suit I bought her before we left for our trip.”

  “Be sure to slather her with sunscreen. Babies burn easily.”

  “We will,” said Susan. Of course, we’ll use sunscreen. Does she think we’re idiots?

  “Come over for dinner tonight. I get home around five. I’ll have George pick you up.” Lynette nodded.

  “We’d love to,” said Susan.

  “Onward,” said Lynette. They began to walk away, when Susan stopped and said, “Just give me a few minutes, Lynette. I forgot to ask Audrey something. You can wait here on the bench.”

  Susan pretended to go back inside, but instead, went back to the crime scene at the arboretum. She walked around outside the perimeter of the yellow police tape, scanning the interior for overlooked clues. Near the tape, she spotted something on the ground. She bent down and saw it was a tiny, coated rubber band. It was the kind used to hold small braids. Probably has nothing to do with the murder. Lots of kids pass by here. Strange, it has a clump of hair tangled in it. She took a tissue out of her purse and used it to wrap the rubber band. She didn’t want Lynette to accuse her of contaminating evidence.

  Chapter 4

  Susan and Lynette picked up a key lime pie to bring to Audrey’s on their way back from the beach. Susan felt like a kid with attention deficit disorder who’d forgotten to take her medicine. As she sat in George’s car on their way to Audrey’s, her mind jumped from one question to another. Why had Audrey given her up? What were Audrey’s parents like? Had they insisted she give away her baby? Had Audrey ever considered seeking an abortion from one of the few doctor’s willing to perform them at that time? Susan knew that the doctor in question was later arrested for talking girls into having their babies, then putting them up for adoption on the black market. Did Audrey know that? Intermittently, Susan tried to make sense of Celia Watkin’s murder. Who’d killed the music teacher, and why?

  George knocked on the door, and immediately a ferocious sounding dog started barking. Annalise cried. When Audrey opened the door, Susan saw it was a tan and black German Shepard. She’d never been fond of dogs and instinctively she took a step back.

  “Don’t worry about Wolfie. He’s a sweetheart, really,” said Audrey. She scratched the animal’s head, between the ears, and was rewarded with a drooly lick.

  “Wolfie! He does look a bit like a wolf,” said Susan. Annalise, now smiling, pointed and said, “Doggy!”

  “Oh, no, darling,” said Audrey, “that’s not how he got his name. He’s named after Wolfgang Mozart, my favorite composer.”

  Susan couldn’t get over the coincidence. “I have two cats named Johann and Ludwig. After Bach and Beethoven.”

  Audrey smiled. “I see we share a love of classical music. Come, sit down.” They walked across the white tile to a beige sofa covered with Mexican print pillows. Susan hesitated to put squirmy Annalise down. A toddler running around on a slippery tile floor was a recipe for disaster. Audrey offered them wine, and brought a platter of cheese and vegetables out from the kitchen.

  “Susan, Lynette, I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied with the murder, but it’s time to put that aside for a while and address the elephant in the room. You must have a million questions––the first, I’m quite sure, being why I gave you up.”

  “Of course, I wondered. Actually, I didn’t find out I was adopted until after my Mom died. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to find you, but when Lynette was facing her recent health crisis, I became certain.” They were all aware that Lynette had recently thought she might lose her eyesight to a genetic disease, but the discovery of her long-lost biological grandmother had squashed that possibility.

  “I was very young when I got pregnant with you,” Audrey began. “I was fifteen. Back in those days, the way to deal with teenage pregnancy was to send the girl away to ‘visit a relative’ or ‘take a trip abroad.’ My parents were high up on the Georgia social ladder and appearances were everything to them. They didn’t even want me to have the baby. They sent me to a doctor who performed abortions, hoping I’d be back in time for debutante season.”

  “Then how did you wind up having the baby?” asked Lynette.

  “The doctor talked to them and convinced them there were many Christian couples, wealthy high society couples, just dying to raise a child. My parents were persuaded, much to my relief.”

  “Who was my father?” said Susan. Audrey’s expression changed. To one of whimsy? wondered Susan. It looked more like fear.

  “Just a boy down visiting his aunt for the summer. Come September, I went back to school, and he went back home.” Audrey tried to say it casually, but Susan sensed there was more to it.

  Lynette sat forward on the sofa. “What did he say when you told him you were pregnant?”

  “Oh, I never did tell him. Never saw him again.”

  So my birth father doesn’t know he has a daughter out there somewhere. How could Audrey have kept it a secret? Susan thought.

&nb
sp; George stood up. “I’m starving and I smell biscuits.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Audrey raced to the kitchen. Lynette followed Audrey. George hung back and whispered to Susan, “Keep your eyes and ears open at school, Susan. One of the students or faculty members may have information they’re afraid to share with the police. Told you we could use your help.”

  “Mom, are you okay?” said Lynette, returning. She put her good arm on Susan’s shoulder.

  “About what Audrey said? I’m fine,” replied Susan. “It’s what I imagined. Teenage pregnancy. End of story. I am wondering what kind of person gets herself pregnant and doesn’t tell the father, though.”

  “All I can say is,” added Lynette, “if it hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be here. And that beautiful daughter of mine never would have been born.” Susan hugged Lynette and her body relaxed.

  “Come on, dig in,” called Audrey from the dining room. “We’ve got fried chicken, baked macaroni and cheese, and of course, biscuits.”

  They sat at a glass table with chrome chairs. Picasso style artwork adorned the walls, and a straw area rug underneath the table muted the echoing in the austere room.

  “You even have a highchair for Annalise,” said Susan.

  “Of course. Borrowed it from a friend so my great granddaughter could eat comfortably.”

  George dished out the bubbling casserole, while Susan cut a piece of chicken into toddler-sized bites.

  “George, what do you do for a living?” asked Lynette.

  Audrey answered before George could get his mouth open. “He works at the school. Does maintenance and grounds keeping.”

  So that’s how he got that tan, thought Susan. “How was the rest of the school day?” she asked.

  “Like I’d imagined,” said Audrey. “Parent calls, media crawling around like maggots. Thank goodness spring break will be here soon. By the time school resumes, I hope the killer will be locked away in a jail cell.”