Murder Is Private

by Diane Weiner

  He’s going in my direction. She put her newly toned calf muscles to work and speed walked after him. She wouldn’t have been any competition for a riding mower, except George had to stop every few minutes to pull wet grass out of the bottom of the machine. She wasn’t hiding from him, but followed discreetly. After all, she’d hate for him to think she was stalking him when they just happened to be going the same way. He was headed toward the arboretum. Did he have a rendezvous scheduled?

  George abruptly stopped the mower several feet from the entrance and hid behind the same shrubs she’d used as camouflage the day she saw Kymani and hoodie boy exchange money. She took cover behind a tree and watched George watching the arboretum. After a few minutes, Kymani strutted in and sat on a cement bench in the arboretum. He tapped his foot and looked around. It was several minutes before a blond girl with a high pony tail appeared. She looked like a sorority girl, not a thug. What was she doing buying pot or, worse yet, an illegal gun? Maybe she was his girlfriend.

  Susan was too far away to see if any buying or selling was happening. She pushed her bifocals further up on her nose, but still no luck. The meeting was brief. The blond girl left through one entrance, while Kymani left the way he’d come in.

  George started up the riding mower again and headed back toward the auditorium and classrooms. Susan felt something drip on her head. Was it raining again? She looked up and realized she was standing under a tree which was bursting with pale pink flowers. Flowers identical to the ones she saw stuck to Alonzo’s jacket at lunch. The sky opened up and Susan ran toward Audrey’s, covering her head with her tote bag.

  Chapter 15

  “Susan, you’re drenched,” said Audrey.

  “It started raining on my way home; I’m fine.”

  “You should know better than to leave the house without an umbrella, especially in the spring. It rains in New York in the spring, too, doesn’t it? Let me get you a towel.”

  Susan rolled her eyes at Audrey as she walked toward the bathroom.

  “Mom, I saw that,” whispered Lynette. “You rolled your eyes at Audrey. You rolled your eyes at your own mother. It’s annoying being treated like you don’t know how to take care of yourself, isn’t it?”

  “Hush. I don’t want Audrey to hear you.” The doorbell rang.

  “Hey, Kevin! Come on in,” said Lynette. Susan thought he looked like a male model––neat hair, freshly ironed shirt, clean shaven.

  “Mrs. Wiles, did you get caught in the storm?” Now I understand how he made detective, Susan thought. So observant.

  “So, Kevin, how’s the case going?” Susan avoided eye contact with Lynette.

  “Still working on it,” he replied.

  “Her husband came by the school today to get Celia’s things,” said Susan. “Scared me half to death when I walked in on him snooping through the desk. Did he have an alibi for the night of Celia’s murder?”

  “Says he was out drinking at a bar. We’re still trying to find someone who saw him that night.”

  Audrey returned with a fluffy yellow towel for Susan. “Hello, Detective. Come, have a seat.” Kevin joined the women.

  Susan wiped her bifocals and dried her arms and legs. She needed to change her clothes but didn’t want to miss anything Kevin might say regarding the case. Why was he here, anyway? Was it about the case, or did he just want an excuse to see Lynette again? He smelled like after shave.

  “We got an anonymous phone call down at the station. Someone reported seeing a person hanging around the arboretum the night of the murder. Said it was a man. The time fits with our window for time of death. I came to ask you if you think it could have been one of the boys in the dorm. The dorm overlooks the arboretum. Someone on the second or third floor may have witnessed the murder. Am I right?”

  “Yes, it’s possible,” replied Audrey.

  “We questioned all the boys in the dorm the day after the murder. No one admitted to seeing anything.”

  “They may have been frightened,” said Audrey. “That’s probably why the call was anonymous.”

  “Okay, thanks for your help, Mrs. Roberts,” Kevin said, “I’ll get out of your hair. Bye, Lynette.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Bye, Mrs. Wiles.”

  After the detective had left, Susan lost no time in making her case. “Lynette, see. He kissed you. I know he still has a thing for you.”

  “On the cheek, Mom. People do that with friends. You need to curb your imagination.”

  “Do you think the anonymous call was legitimate?” replied Susan, not totally convinced that Kevin only felt friendship towards her daughter.

  “Not sure,” said Lynette, pondering her question. “Why didn’t he call sooner, I wonder? He didn’t tell us much. All he confirms is that it was a man.”

  “Do you think it was Derrick, Celia’s husband? He found out shortly before the murder that his wife was having an affair, and he can be violent, we’ve seen that,” said Susan.

  “Things aren’t always what they seem, Mom. Kevin’s working on the alibi. We have no eye witnesses or physical evidence connecting Derrick to the crime scene.”

  “We? Sounds like you’ve been helping Kevin.”

  “The department is stretched thin with spring breakers on the loose, so I’ve been giving him a hand. Nothing official. We’re going back to the bar tomorrow. It’s been tough finding a witness to corroborate Derrick’s story.”

  “I have to get out of these wet clothes before I catch a cold,” Susan said abruptly. She went upstairs and changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt. She did a search for Derrick Watkins her laptop, and came across a newspaper article detailing a fire in a condo that he shared with Cecilia.

  According to the article, the cause of the fire was undetermined. It said that both occupants escaped, but that the ground floor of the condo had been destroyed. Neighbors reported hearing shouting, and the next door neighbor was quoted as saying, “It felt like furniture was being shoved against the wall. My living room was shaking from all the commotion.” Interesting, thought Susan. Maybe they were fighting and Derrick tried to kill her by setting the apartment on fire.

  Susan went downstairs hoping Audrey had some information.

  “How did you find out about that?” Audrey asked her when Susan mentioned the fire. “It happened years ago. We all thought Derrick caused the fire. Luckily, Celia didn’t have a scratch on her. Derrick had a burn mark from his wrist to his elbow. I say he got what he deserved.”

  “Hey, Mom! Audrey!” Evan came in the kitchen door, sweaty in his running clothes. Audrey grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and handed it to him.

  “Lucky you didn’t get rained on,” said Susan. She left Audrey to prepare dinner. Someone––probably Lynette––had warned Audrey that cooking was not one of Susan’s strengths. Susan plopped down on the sofa and opened the cozy mystery she’d been enjoying, but had trouble focusing. She couldn’t stop thinking about that fire in the Watkins’ condominium. Why had Derrick gotten burned, but not Celia? If he’d wanted to kill her, why did he start a fire while he was in the house? She read some more.

  Evan, freshly showered, sat down next to her.

  “Evan, if there was a fire and two people were in the same room, why would one get a severe burn from wrist to elbow, while the other escaped unscathed?”

  “Did they get out at the same time?”

  “From what I understand, yes. Neighbors heard noises like they’d been fighting.”

  “If the burn covered only that area, could be that the burned person was holding an appliance that caught fire.”

  “The cause of the fire was undetermined. If an appliance malfunctioned, they’d know that, right?”

  “Yes, they probably would. If they were fighting, maybe one person hit the other with something hot, or threw something hot. Boiling water? Grease?”

  “Thanks Evan. That might be the explanation.” Susan was puzzled. Why did Derrick get burned if he threw hot liquid at Celia? She could have
been defending herself. The article didn’t say that though. There was a knock at the front door, followed immediately by the sound of a key turning.

  “George, hi!” said Susan as her half-brother entered the house. “Audrey’s in the kitchen.”

  “She invited me to drop by for dinner. Thought it would be nice to spend time together as a family.”

  Oddly enough, Susan found herself resenting George and Audrey’s relationship. Susan hadn’t bonded well enough with George or Audrey yet to think of them as family. She felt like George was an acquaintance at best. He came over and whispered in her ear.

  “Did you find out anything helpful?”

  “Odds and ends. I’m suspicious of Celia’s husband, Derrick. I’m also thinking some criminal deals are taking place in the arboretum. I read about Celia shooting a robber ten years ago during a burglary. I’m thinking maybe the dead burglar’s brother was released and came after her for revenge.”

  “Good, definitely a start. Keep at it.” He patted her back and smiled his chipped tooth grin.

  “I will.” God, he’s strange, she thought.

  “Hey, Evan! Having a nice visit?” said George as Evan wandered into the living room.

  “Sure am. I needed a mental break from school and Florida is doing the trick.”

  “Dinner’s ready!” called Audrey. Susan missed having Mike at the table. Lynette and Annalise came downstairs and with everyone seated around the table, it looked like a big, happy family. Too bad it didn’t yet feel like one.

  Chapter 16

  At lunch the next day, Susan pried for more details about the fire. Gabby, the librarian, ate with them as she occasionally did. Schwartz munched on a tuna sandwich, while Alonzo threw a Tupperware container into the microwave and popped open a can of Pepsi. Susan plunged right into her query.

  “I found out last night that Celia and Derrick had a fire in their condo.”

  “Years ago. We were all glad no one got hurt,” said Schwartz. “Freak accident.”

  “I heard Derrick got a pretty nasty burn,” said Susan.

  “Served him right,” said Gabby. “That’s karma for you. Beat your wife, suffer the consequences.”

  “Come on, Gabby. Celia held her own. Remember at the Christmas party? He’s the one who came in with a black eye,” said Alonzo. “No one believed his stupid story about walking into a door.”

  “And I ran into him at Publix once. Nasty gash on his forehead,” said Schwartz.

  “Probably from a bar fight,” said Gabby.

  Alonzo’s cell phone vibrated on the table. “Excuse me. I have to take this outside.” Susan finished her lunch and went back to the chorus room. I have to call Lynette.

  “Lynette, there’s something you have to look into.”

  “Mom, aren’t you working? Can’t it wait?”

  “I just finished lunch with some of Celia’s colleagues. They once saw Derrick with a black eye, and another time with a nasty gash. Can you get Kevin to look at the emergency room records? Maybe he had a history of getting into fights. While he’s at it, he should see if Celia had ever been in the ER. If he was beating her, she probably made more than one visit.”

  “I’m sure Kevin has checked it out.”

  “Just make sure he knows.”

  While still on the phone, Susan heard Lynette say, “Kevin, it’s my Mom with some info she thinks is important.”

  “Lynette, what is Kevin doing there in the middle of the day?”

  “He stopped by to walk Annalise and me over to the canal to feed the ducks. Annalise loves the ducks.”

  “Shouldn’t he be at work?”

  “He is. He’s on his lunch break.”

  “Lynette, I told you…”

  “Go back to work. Bye, Mom. I’ll give him the message.”

  Susan shook her head. Lynette was heading for trouble. Didn’t she see that Kevin was still in love with her? Lynette never told her or Mike why she and Kevin had broken off their engagement. He wants her back. I know it, thought Susan.

  Chapter 17

  “Are we practicing for the nursing home concert?” asked Manolito before class. Although he was a violin major, Manolito had a beautiful tenor voice and sang in the chorus.

  “Yes, we’d better. It’s just a few weeks away,” said Susan. “Manolito, you live in the boys’ dorm, right?”

  “Yes, since freshman year. Why?”

  “So you were in the dorm the night Mrs. Watkins was killed, right?”

  “I was.” Manolito looked at the floor.

  “Did you hear or see anything unusual that night?”

  “No.” He wrung his hands together.

  “Manolito, I feel like you’re hiding something. If you have information that can help the police solve the case, you need to speak up. In fact, an anonymous caller from your dorm says he saw a man outside that night in the arboretum.”

  “I don’t want to get involved, Mrs. Wiles,” said Manolito. “The killer is still out there. If he knows I talked to the police, I might be in danger. What if he comes after me next?”

  “How about you tell me, and I’ll say I overheard some boys talking about it. I’ll keep your name out of it.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “It’s both your civic and moral duty.” Manolito motioned for her to follow him into the choral office.

  “I heard a huge argument in the arboretum. It was a man and a woman fighting. The woman sounded like Mrs. Watkins.”

  “And the man’s voice?”

  “I didn’t recognize it; sorry.”

  “Did you see anything?”

  “No, my window faces the other direction. Anyway, it stopped. My roommate came in and I forgot all about it until I heard about the murder. If you say anything to the police, please, please, don’t use my name.”

  “I won’t,” Susan assured the boy. Another student rushed into the office, her hand bleeding.

  “Do you have a Band-Aid, Mrs. Wiles? I cut my hand.” Blood dripped down her wrist as she held her hand up to show Susan.

  “There must be one here somewhere.” Susan checked the desk drawers, then opened the drawers of the filing cabinet. The top drawer was used for storage. “Here’s one!”

  After handing the girl the Band-Aid, she searched the drawer more thoroughly. Way in the back she found a framed picture. It was of Celia and Derrick Watkins on their wedding day, with a wedding invitation mounted next to the photo. What was she going to do with it? Derrick wouldn’t care about it. She’d just throw it away. She tossed it into the trash can. Her stomach knotted. No, that was wrong. As much as she disliked Derrick, it belonged to him. She’d drop by his house after school. She could leave it in his mailbox. The thought of talking to Derrick Watkins made her shudder.

  After school, she put the photo into a manila envelope and walked to Derrick’s house, which was just a block from the arboretum. Audrey had pointed it out to her earlier. She was relieved not to see a car in the driveway. She went to the front door, put down the photo, and looked around for some rocks or a planter to hide it from street view. She crouched down in front of the front door. It flung open. There stood Derrick Watkins, red faced, wearing a sleeveless undershirt. She gasped.

  “What do you think you’re doing sneaking around my house like that? I’m calling the police!” said Derrick.

  Susan stood up with the envelope. “I just wanted to return this to you. I found it in Celia’s office.”

  Susan’s toes shook inside her sandals. Derrick yanked the photo out of the envelope.

  “This! What makes you think I’d care about a wedding photo with that shrew?” He flung the photo to the ground, shattering the glass.

  “I knew it!” cried Susan. “I knew you killed her, you cold blooded creep.” Derrick grabbed her arm so hard she felt his nails digging into her skin. She yelled, hoping the neighbors would hear.

  “Let go of me, you wife beater, murderer! The police are coming for you! How long do you think they’re goi
ng to believe your bar story alibi? No one saw you at the bar. You’ll be thrown in jail for life. Or does Florida have the death penalty?”

  Derrick stepped in closer and raised his fist to her face.

  Susan gathered her courage and continued: “You fought with Celia in the arboretum the night of the murder. There were witnesses.” For a moment, she thought he’d take a swing at her. Thankfully, he stepped back and dropped his fist.

  “You know nothing. Get off my property and don’t come near me again.”

  “Or what? You’ll beat me like you did Celia? You’ll set me on fire?”

  Susan saw the veins popping out of his neck. Her heart was pounding. She was about to run, when he gave her a shove and slammed the door shut. She ran around the corner of his house, then leaned against a tree and caught her breath. She couldn’t wait to see him locked up in a cell.

  Chapter 18

  Susan burst through the front door, sweaty and out of breath. “Lynette! Where are you? Lynette!”

  “Hush,” whispered her daughter, bustling down the stairs. “I just put Annalise down for a nap. What’s wrong?”

  “I just had a run in with Derrick Watkins.”

  “Are you okay? Did he come to the school?”

  “No, it was at his house.”

  “At his house? What on earth were you doing at his house?”

  “I found a wedding photo in Celia’s office and wanted to return it to him. I was going to leave it at his front door, but he saw me.”

  “Are you crazy, Mom? I told you to stay out of trouble, but you never listen. Did he hurt you?”

  “No, but I’m sure he killed Celia. He grabbed the photograph from me and threw it on the ground, the cold jerk. He hated her. And the man has a temper. You know that from the funeral. Remember how he gave Schwartz the bloody nose?”

  “It doesn’t mean he killed her.”

  “Did you find any witnesses who corroborated his alibi? No, right?”