Happy Homicides 4: Fall Into Crime: Includes Happy Homicides 3: Summertime Crimes

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  There was no reply.

  When we’d cleared the building, Walter took me by the arm. “Let’s grab some lunch.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  As usual, the sidewalk cafes in Clover Hills were filled with customers. Trees along Main Street were turning color, in shades of red, orange, and gold. How grateful I was for the mild California weather. “How about The Rising Loafer?” Walter asked.

  “Sounds good. Order a Reuben for me, please, and I’ll grab a table.” As I looked for a table, I thought back to the conversation with Alex. Like David, he’d sidestepped my question. The information about the two growing up together might mean something, but I had no clue as to what. When Walter returned with our orders, he was talking on his phone.

  “Got it.” He hung up. “That was the coroner. Karla was stabbed with a smooth-bladed knife of some sort.”

  “A table knife usually has a smooth blade, doesn’t it? I mean, as opposed to a kitchen knife or a hunting knife?”

  “I think the coroner means the knife wasn’t serrated. A table knife would fit the size of the incisions he mentioned, too.”

  “There was more than one?” I was horrified at the thought. “The killer must have been eager to make sure she died. Walter, we need to find out why.”

  “Finish your sandwich. We have more people to talk to.”

  The server provided a take-home container in which I stuffed half of my Reuben and the dill pickle. The leftovers would make a nice supper tonight, and not having dishes to wash was an added bonus.

  Walter checked his notes. “We’re closest to Dr. Priya Singh’s office. Anything you’d like to share before asking for her statement? It would have been nice to know about what you overheard Alex say before tossing it out like you did.”

  “Wait just a minute! I hadn’t remembered it until you started taking his statement. Let me think about Dr. Singh and I’ll do my best to share, Detective.”

  Walter hung his head a moment. “Sorry. I just don’t like being behind in my own investigation.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now let me think.” I scooped up Teddy and let Walter buy lunch, since we were on police business. Teddy yawned. “It’s almost time for your nap, little one.” Normally, I’d like to have one too, but I was interested in hearing what Dr. Singh had to say about Karla.

  We made our way to the doctor’s office. “Okay,” I said. “Priya never said anything directly to Karla that night, not that I could hear anyway, but it was more of the look on her face when she was around Karla.”

  “I see.” Walter glanced at the address and parked on the side of Priya’s building. “You’re saying there was tension between the two?”

  “Yes, and also big-time tension with Ron and Susan Porter. Karla seemed to affect people that way.”

  A call came in on Walter’s phone. “Just a minute, Jillian. I have to take Cecilia’s call.”

  “No problem.” They chatted in hushed tones until Walter said goodbye.

  “Wait,” I said. “I want to talk to her.” He handed me his phone.

  “Hey, Cecilia, it’s me. Listen. You keep your ear to the ground, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes I hear things. Why?” she asked.

  “Did you ever hear anything about Dr. Priya Singh? We’re about to get her statement.”

  “Hmm, isn’t she a psychiatrist? I’m thinking there was something I heard about her, if it’s who you’re talking about. It may have been in reference to one of the moms who has issues with depression. The mom almost overdosed, and someone said she’d been given too many prescriptions. Another friend who was with us chimed in and said she’d heard the same thing happening to a different woman, another patient of Dr. Singh’s.”

  “Thanks, Cecilia. That helps,” I said.

  Walter drummed on the steering wheel, but held his patience.

  “Are you busy right now? I need a favor,” I asked Cecilia as I smiled at Walter.

  “Sure. I don’t get the kids for an hour. Go ahead.”

  “See if you can find anything, anything at all, on this Dr. Singh. And while you’re at it, look up Ron and Susan Porter. We’ll be talking to them next.”

  “I copy. I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve done a check. Tell Walter I love him.”

  “I will.” We ended the call. “Cecilia says she loves you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Let’s see what Dr. Singh has to say.”

  “Let’s wait a minute. Cecilia may have something for us.”

  Chapter 8

  While we sat waiting in the car, we watched patients, all women, coming and going from Dr. Singh’s office. I noticed most were well-to-do, dressed to the nines, and carrying designer bags I could spot from a mile away. Walter’s phone rang. I hoped it was a call back from Cecilia.

  “Hello, darling,” Walter said. “What do you have for us?” After a couple of minutes, Walter ended the call. “Well, that’s interesting.”

  “What is?” I asked, with baited breath.

  He sighed. “I hardly know where to begin. Cecilia said she found several references to lawsuits filed from Dr. Singh’s patients. Had to do with malpractice.”

  “Okay, did she mention Ron or Susan Porter?”

  “Seems Ron Porter is involved in some shaky real estate deals. Fraudulent mortgage loans were rampant a few years ago. If they were made public, it could hurt his chance for election to the city council.”

  “And Susan Porter?”

  “Nothing turned up on her. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t any skeletons in her closet. The last, and most interesting thing Cecilia found out was that both Ron and Susan Porter are patients of Dr. Singh.”

  “Now that is curious. Dr. Singh may be providing more than psychiatric consultations. Psychiatrists are the only doctors who can prescribe mood altering drugs.”

  “For depression, you mean.”

  “Walter, I think we should talk to Susan Porter before we go into Dr. Singh’s office, guns blazing. Will you humor me?”

  “I’ll dial in their address right now.”

  Teddy slept in my arms on the way to the Porter’s house. He was like a baby who needed his nap. We found Susan at home, but Ron was out.

  “Jillian?” A look of surprise on her face.

  “Hello, Susan. This is Detective Walter Montoya, who happens to be a longtime friend of mine.”

  “Please come in. The living room is this way.” She led us to a room filled with antiques and paintings that reminded me of old masters. “Make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for something to drink?”

  Walter held up his hand. “Thank you, no. We won’t take too much of your time, Mrs. Porter, but I do need to take your statement about Saturday evening.”

  She sat in a wingback chair, crossed her ankles, and leaned forward. “Of course, Detective. You’d like to know my recollection for the evening?”

  “Yes. Especially toward the end of the evening, say from the time Alex Raven accepted his Volunteer Member of the Year Award until you left.” Walter sat with notebook and pen ready.

  “Karla was in a strange mood. I’d met her only once but it was almost like she wasn’t the same person. You see, she interviewed Ron about running for city councilman.”

  Walter crossed his legs and rubbed his chin. “What makes you say that about her mood?”

  “Karla seemed brazen. She asked my husband to dance, but halfway through he returned to our table. He wouldn’t tell me what she said.”

  The term “brazen” fit Karla perfectly, I thought. “I wonder why he wouldn’t share what she’d said.” Most married couples don’t keep secrets, unless it was something vile.

  Walter resumed the questions. “Did you see what Karla did or where she went after the dance incident?”

  Susan looked at her shoes, an expensive pair of gold flats. “Honestly, the less I saw of Karla the better. After most of the guests had left, though, I did see her talking to her date. I
noticed he had a limp.”

  “That would be David Thorndike,” I said. Teddy was waking up, so I gave him a pat. “Did you see her with anyone else?”

  “Not after that. Ron and I walked out with Vivian Rivers and the museum director. David Thorndike had left already.”

  “What about Alex Raven? When did you last see him?”

  “Alex? Let’s see. He could have left when David did, or he could have left after us, I’m not sure.”

  I leaned in. “Susan, Karla may have been killed to keep her quiet about something. Why else would someone be so desperate? I’m going to ask you a question, and you need to be perfectly honest.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “We know that you and your husband are patients of Dr. Singh.” The blood drained from Susan’s face. “We need to know if Dr. Singh ever prescribed drugs for depression. Before you answer, this will in no way ever get out, but it could be a motive for murder.”

  Susan looked stunned. “A few years ago, I had a DUI and caused an unfortunate car accident. It cost me dearly, but not as much as it cost the woman I hit, who’s spending the rest of her life in a wheelchair. I never forgave myself, which is why I went to Dr. Singh. The only thing that seemed to help was the drugs she gave me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I bent my head. “Were the drugs supposed to be temporary?”

  She nodded. “But I couldn’t do without them. When I tried, that woman’s face wouldn’t leave my mind and I couldn’t stand it. You’re right about Dr. Singh. Half of all the drugs I take she gives me as samples.”

  Walter put his pen down. “A perfect way to create an addict and totally illegal. This could cost Dr. Singh her license.”

  A sound of an approaching car distracted us. “Ron’s home. If this ever got out, you know it would ruin him. An addict for a wife? Who would want a councilman like that? It would cost him the election.” She began to cry.

  Ron entered the room from the back of the house. “I see we have company.” When he saw his wife crying, he bristled. “What’s all this about? Susan, don’t say another word, do you hear me?”

  Walter stood immediately. “We’re taking statements from the last people to see Karla Wilson alive. Susan has given us hers.”

  Ron took his wife in his arms. “If you want my statement, I’ll have my lawyer present, and we’ll do it downtown.”

  Walter shrugged. “It’s your choice. We’ll see you in the morning at the station at ten o’clock. With your lawyer.”

  “Thanks again, Mrs. Porter. You gave us a good lead.” Walter took my elbow and ushered me to the front door.

  “Walter, would there be a way we could find out the name of her victim? I’d like to talk to her.”

  “It will take some digging, but I’ll see what I can do. If the DUI has been expunged, and it may have been because her husband is a public figure, then it will be hard if not impossible to track.”

  Tired as I was, we needed to get Dr. Singh’s statement. It didn’t take long to reach her office in a strip center close to downtown. Most of the cars I’d seen before were gone. Perhaps her appointments were winding down.

  No one was in the waiting room. Perfect timing. The receptionist smiled, asked how she could help, and asked us to take a seat while she let Dr. Singh know we were here. She returned and opened the door to the back offices. “Dr. Singh will see you now. Right this way.”

  The door was open partway. “Detective Montoya and Jillian Bradley to see you, Doctor Singh.”

  “Come in Jillian, Detective Montoya. I’ve been expecting you.”

  Dr. Singh looked relieved, compared to the night I had seen her with Karla. “A penny for your thoughts, Jillian.” A consummate psychiatrist.

  “Very well. I noticed an uncomfortable demeanor whenever I saw you with Karla. Was there a reason?”

  She chuckled. “It was like being with a snake, poised, ready to strike. Karla fed on gossip and the unfortunate situations of others. She had no finesse, no tact. If you must know, the woman even went so far as to threaten me with a story suggesting I was being sued for malpractice. An utter fabrication.” She waved her hand in the air. “I didn’t spend all those years building up my practice to be maligned by the likes of Karla Wilson. But I didn’t kill her. I’ve taken an oath to save lives.”

  Walter sat back. “When did you last see her?”

  “The board members were securing the premises after everyone else had left. The last time I saw Karla she was talking to Vivian Rivers and her husband. They were discussing the story Karla was to write about the event. I left afterward.”

  I cocked my head. “When you saw them, did you see anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “I was tired and ready to get home. It seems like others were still there.”

  “Was the museum director?” Walter asked.

  “Yes, he and Alex were still there before I left.” A buzzer sounded. “That’s my last appointment. I hope I’ve been of some help.”

  “You have.” I smiled. “See you at the museum.”

  As Walter and I walked to the car, the motive was clear why Karla was killed. The woman was a blackmailer.

  Chapter 9

  The day had been a long one. The Reuben leftover from lunch made a nice dinner. After making Teddy his supper, I slipped into a maxi dress and brewed a cup of decaf in my pod coffee maker.

  Teddy followed me into the living room. I sat in my recliner and switched on the TV, something I rarely do. A local newscast aired with clips of the upcoming election polls. Alex Raven was favored to win re-election as mayor. Ron Porter was running neck and neck with the incumbent city councilman.

  A reporter brought viewers an update on the Karla Wilson case. No leads were in sight, but the autopsy had been completed, and her body would be released tomorrow.

  I thought about Kim Wilson and called to see how she was doing. “Just thinking of you and wondering how things were going.”

  “Thanks for calling me. I’ve decided to have Karla cremated. It’s what she wanted.”

  “So you’ve made arrangements?” I asked. Teddy hopped up on the sofa and sprawled out.

  “I will tomorrow. I’ve called a lawyer here to settle her estate. It’s not much, but I am the sole heir.”

  “I understand how difficult this is for you, Kim. Tell me, did you ever get hold of David Thorndike?”

  “Funny you should ask. I did call him but when I told him who I was, he was almost rude. Said we had nothing to talk about. Frankly, I was shocked at his attitude.”

  “That does sound strange. Death of a loved one has a funny effect on some people, I guess. Is there anything I can do for you? I’d be happy to go to the funeral home and help you make arrangements. Even if it’s only moral support.”

  “Aw, that’s mighty kind of you, ma’am. But I’ll be all right. Thanks for offering and for giving me a call. You’re a nice lady.”

  “Well, good luck tomorrow. Have a safe trip back to Texas.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. A pleasure to meet you.”

  After the call, I finished my coffee, took Teddy for a short walk, and turned in for the night. I thought about what Kim had said about David Thorndike. The way he had treated Kim made it sound as if something was bothering him.

  Tomorrow I would try and find out what it was.

  I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything that had transpired. I knew that Walter hadn’t found the murder weapon yet, because he would have told me if he had. The knife might still be hidden at Raven House.

  I woke early the next morning, dressed in the outfit I’d laid out the night before, saw to Teddy, and headed to the museum for a meeting to debrief our event. But first, I needed to talk to Vivian. Luckily for me, she was in the main office, sitting in the midst of a pile of papers.

  “Jillian. I’m going crazy trying to sort out some kind of story to write about our ball without Karla’s murder seeping into every line. I may be many things, but a writer I
’m not. And our meeting is in ten minutes.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine. If you need some help, I suppose I could ask my neighbor Cecilia. She’s a seasoned journalist who worked with Karla a few years ago.”

  Vivian’s face lit up. “Really? I need to talk to her, then.” She reached over to pet Teddy who was nestled in his tote. He perked up his ears at the attention.

  “Before we head into the meeting, I have a question for you,” I said. “Karla was supposed to be getting a business magazine deal. Do you know anything about that?”

  “I wouldn’t, but you could ask Alex. He has his hand in everything here. Do you have Cecilia’s number? I’d like to call her.”

  “Sure. I’ll text it to you.”

  One at a time, board members filed into the small conference room. Affable Alex shook hands with everyone, and then laughed and chatted with Ron Porter. Was life already back to normal, so soon after Karla’s murder?

  I approached Alex. “Would you give me a moment of your time after the meeting?” I smiled sweetly.

  He nodded, and we took our seats. Vivian reported on our successful fundraising. The $82,000 raised exceeded our goal. Polite applause followed, until Alex spoke.

  “Looks like we’ll be renovating the second-floor bedrooms.” After the words left his mouth, there was a faraway look on his face. It puzzled me, so I tucked it away. There was something going on with him

  With the meeting adjourned, Alex and I stayed behind. “How can I help you, Jillian?”

  “Vivian said you were the one to talk to regarding anything happening in our town.”

  He appeared to be flattered. “I do try to stay informed. What would you like to know?”

  “Kim Wilson, Karla’s sister, told Detective Montoya and me that Karla was going to start a new business magazine. Do you know anything about that?”

  He sat back and folded his hands. “Miss Wilson had visions of grandeur, but that was all they were. There is a new startup, which I’m backing by the way, called Clover Hills Business. The deal was signed last week.”

  “I see. Well, thank you. That certainly answers my question. One last thing. Who has keys to Raven House?”