Summer Walsh Mystery Series (3 complete cozy mystery novellas)

by Debby Mayne

  "What was weird about her?"

  "That's what we're still trying to find out. We have some pretty strong leads, so I'm hoping something comes out in the interviews."

  "How can I help?" I asked.

  Vince grinned. "I've heard that one of your strengths is reading people's body language and seeing things other people don't notice."

  Slightly embarrassed but flattered, I nodded. "I suppose that's correct."

  "All I'm asking you to do is tell me your observations during interviews."

  My eyebrows shot up. "You want me there while you interview the suspects?"

  "Um … not officially."

  "Okay, I get the picture. So who do you have lined up so far?"

  He held up a hand and tapped on each finger as he told me about the people. "We still have to talk to all of her children. And then there's her next-door neighbor Janelle Bradford, a guy named Eddie Cullen who wanted to buy her car, her mechanic, some man in the house behind her who had issues with her peach tree. He's already contacted the city to see what he could do about having her tree cut down." Vince chuckled. "Apparently the fruit falls into his yard and rots, inviting rats and other undesirable guests." He grew more serious as he continued. "And there's the woman who kept Ms. McClure out of the garden club with her single negative vote."

  None of those suspects sounded like they had a reason to murder Ms. McClure, but I was well aware of how tempers could flare out of control over the most insignificant conflicts. I once dealt with a case of a woman shooting a neighbor over a pile of leaves. It started out with accusations that escalated into a shouting match. No one knew when the gun came out, but by the time the police arrived, it was too late.

  "When are you planning to interview these people?" I asked.

  "Starting first thing in the morning." He looked at me and waited for my response.

  "I have a job interview at ten," I said. "But I'm free after that."

  "About your interview—"

  I held up my hands to stop him. "I'm going on that interview, so don't even go there."

  "I just thought …" He paused and shrugged. "Okay, I understand. How about I pick you up around noon? Think you'll be done by then?"

  "Probably. I'll call you if I'm not."

  "Be careful, okay?"

  "Yes, of course," I replied. "I'm always careful."

  He smiled. We exchanged a look that I remembered sharing with other officers before going into unknown territory.

  Our food arrived a couple of minutes later, and I'll have to admit it was some of the best shrimp I'd ever had. After I finished, I leaned back and noticed a look of amusement on Vince's face.

  "What?" I said.

  He nodded toward my plate. "I like a girl who isn't afraid to eat in public."

  "We all have to eat," I said. "Might as well do it in public, right?"

  "Right. It's just that my ex-girlfriend only ordered salads, and even then she just nibbled."

  "How long ago did you date her?" I asked, happy for something to talk about besides the murder.

  "We broke up a couple of months ago." The look of sadness on his face broke my heart. "I thought we were a good match, but apparently, my lifestyle wasn't one she wanted for herself."

  "Did she tell you that?"

  He nodded. "Pretty much. She waited until I proposed to tell me she thought I was fun, but she didn’t see herself married to a cop."

  "Too much danger?"

  "Well, that," he said, "and not enough money. She's seeing a chiropractor now. Apparently he owns a bunch of medical buildings around the hospital that he leases to doctors."

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  He tried his best to look as though he didn't care, but I could see the pain in his eyes. "It's better to find out now than to get married, have a couple of kids, and then get the heave-ho. That's what happened to one of my buddies. Now he's single and sends half his paycheck to his ex-wife for child support, and she doesn't even let him see his kids very much."

  "Doesn't he have visitation?"

  "Yeah, but she always finds excuses to keep them away from him. Last weekend one of them was sick … or so she said."

  I shook my head. "Yeah, that's too bad."

  Vince looked off into space for a couple of very long, very quiet moments. Finally he turned back to face me. "So how about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

  "Nope." I lifted my glass of iced tea and took a sip.

  "Any broken hearts in your past?"

  I lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "One or two, but it's been a while."

  "You don't want to talk about it, do you?"

  "Not really. It's pointless. Everyone I've dated in the past is now with someone, and they all seem happy." I sighed. "And I'm happy for them."

  "How about jobs?" he said. "Why would a former police officer want to work at a day care center?"

  "I need an income," I replied. Now that he'd asked, I decided to explain my burnout and the fact that I was running out of opportunities in Nashville.

  "Why don't you see if the Nashville Police Department will take you back in another capacity?"

  "You know that won't last."

  He bobbed his head. "Yeah, I know, but based on the research we've done, they think the world of you."

  "I'm sure," I replied. "I left on good terms, and every now and then I get a call. But I got to the point that my entire life centered on my career, and I want more … at least I think I do."

  "Trust me," he said. "I understand. The best relationships I've seen among my buddies have been when they got involved with other people in the department."

  "Even that doesn't always work out." I'd dated another officer in the past, and at times it seemed as though we were competing with each other, both in and out of work.

  He summoned the server for the bill and after rejecting my offer to split it he paid it. "I invited you, remember?"

  "Next time it's on me," I said as we got up and walked to the door.

  "There's a comedy club not too far away. How's that sound?"

  "Not tonight. I need to get some rest before my interview. I'm a little nervous about this one."

  He smiled as he held the car door for me. "You'll do just fine. I have no doubt you'll wow them."

  After he dropped me off in front of the hotel, I scurried up to my room. An hour later, I turned off the light, pulled the covers up to my chin, and closed my eyes.

  *

  I arrived at the day care center fifteen minutes early, a fact that was pointed out by the woman who just happened to be passing through the lobby. "Sit down over there, and I'll let Mr. Van Houghton know you're here."

  On my way to the row of plastic chairs, I picked up a Highlights for Children magazine. It wasn't my first choice of reading material, but it won out over Humpty Dumpty.

  The woman came back out to the lobby at 10:05 and said to follow her. I dropped the magazine on the table and wandered through the maze of makeshift classrooms, the noise level making me wonder what I'd been thinking. The police station could get loud, but it was never like this.

  We finally arrived at the very back. She knocked on a wooden door before opening it. As we walked from the loud but very bright room into a dungeon-like space that was obviously soundproofed, I felt as though I'd been tossed onto the set of a horror movie.

  She gestured toward another door. "Mr. Van Houghton is waiting for you."

  Before I had a chance to say a word, she darted away, leaving me to decide whether to knock, open the door, or run for my life. I chose to knock.

  "Come in." The low voice sounded more like a growl. Although I wasn't easily intimidated, I paused. "I said come in!"

  Okay, so I opened the door and tentatively stuck my head inside. A single fluorescent fixture overhead lit the room. A man sat behind a large wooden desk, his arms folded, a distinctive scowl on his face.

  "Mr. Van Houghton?" I said softly.

  "That's me." He pointed to the only other chair in t
he room. "Sit down."

  I did as I was told. He picked up a stack of papers and looked through them as though he'd never seen them before.

  "When can you start?" he asked.

  "Um … I'd like to know more about the position before I say."

  He lifted his hands in a gesture that indicated frustration. "What's there to know? This is a day care center where people drop off their kids. We watch them and try to drum something into their little heads and keep them from killing each other until their parents pick them up. I need someone to keep the place running and make sure everyone pays their tuition."

  The place obviously needed a lot more than that, but this wasn't the time to tell him. "How many children does each teacher have?"

  He rolled his eyes. "We have seven teachers, three assistants, and about 80 kids. You figure it out."

  The numbers weren't terrible. "Are all of your children preschool, or do you have after school care as well?"

  He shrugged. "You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who needs a job."

  That did it. I didn't like what I saw so far and I wasn't about to continue interviewing for a position with a boss who obviously didn't value his employees. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Van Houghton, but I don't think this is a good fit … for either of us."

  I got to the door before he said, "Okay, come back. I'll answer your questions."

  "I have quite a few," I said.

  "Whatever." He looked annoyed as he gestured for me to sit back down. "I'll answer them as long as you don't take too long. I'm meeting my wife for lunch, and she told me not to be late again."

  Although I wasn't so sure now that I'd accept the position if he offered it, I was already there. So I figured I might as well continue the interview. I went back to the chair and sat.

  As I asked questions, he answered them—at first very bluntly but as time went on in a much more detailed manner. Finally, he smiled for the first time. "Looks like you did your homework."

  I nodded. "I did. You know I've never worked in day care before, so I did some research to find out what all was needed for the job. Have you had background checks on all of your employees?"

  "Of course I have. This is a licensed day care center, and the State of Georgia checks that kind of stuff." The defensive tone in his voice let me know he didn't appreciate that question.

  "I thought so, but I wanted to make sure."

  "How many of your teachers have had CPR training?"

  "As many as the state requires."

  I asked a couple more questions. His responses went back to being as clipped as they were when I first arrived. Finally, I sat back. "I can't think of anything else."

  "Aren't you going to ask how much the job pays?"

  I sighed. "Okay, how much?"

  He quoted me a figure that was laughably low. "After ninety days, you'll get a small raise."

  "That's quite a bit of responsibility for such a small paycheck."

  "How much would it take for you to move here and take the job?" he asked.

  I told him an amount that was fifty percent higher than what he quoted, fully expecting him to tell me to get lost. But he didn't.

  "Okay, but don't expect a raise for quite a while. You'll be at that level your whole first year … that is, if you last that long." He placed his forearms on the desk and leaned toward me, glaring into my eyes. "So now I'm going to ask you again. When can you start?"

  I still didn't want to take the job, but I didn't want to reply right away. "Can I get back to you on that?"

  His eyes bulged, and his face turned a dark shade of red. I expected him to blow a gasket, but he took a few deep breaths, and after letting out the last one, he nodded. "Just don't take too long. I can't keep this job open forever, you know."

  "Yes, of course. I'll let you know by the end of tomorrow, if that's okay."

  "It's fine." He waved me off. "You know how to find your way out."

  When I got back to my car, I got in and lowered my head on my steering wheel. This sounded like the worst job in the world.

  So why was I thinking about accepting it?

  Chapter 4

  After a few minutes of thinking about how strange Mr. Van Houghton was, I remembered that Vince was picking me up at noon. So I started my car and drove toward the hotel, taking a quick detour past the victim's house.

  Essie McClure sure did keep a nice yard. I wondered how it would look in a few weeks, without her tender loving care. But really, what did it matter? She was gone.

  My own mortality flashed through my mind, and I wondered what any of this mattered. Whether or not I took the job, the big picture remained: I was still single and didn't have any hope of having children in the foreseeable future. In other words, I didn't have anyone to tell stories about the good old days to when I got old and feeble.

  Snap out of it, Summer. I shuddered and forced myself to think about the here-and-now. A woman was murdered, I found her, and if I was needed, I'd help out. I didn't want the job I'd applied for, and I had a pretty good excuse to turn it down. Surely Mr. Van Houghton wouldn't expect me to ignore the call of justice at a time like this.

  Then I remembered his demeanor. He probably wouldn't care a lick whether or not the murderer was found—that is if he even knew about it—as long as he had someone to take over the job he was tired of doing.

  I pulled into the parking lot, went straight up to my room, and changed into something more comfortable than my interview clothes, and headed downstairs to wait for Vince. The coffee pot by the front desk lured me to pour myself a cup. I stood at the door, sipping the java, watching and waiting for him to pull up.

  As soon as I spotted him, I tossed my Styrofoam cup into the trash on my way out of the lobby. He grinned as I opened the car door.

  "You don't believe in making people wait, do you?"

  "What's the point?" I replied. "I didn't have anywhere else to be."

  I saw the dejected look on his face as he turned to me. "Ready to see what's going on over at Ms. McClure's house?"

  "Sure, let's go." I didn't see any point in telling him I'd already driven by the house. "Any chance we can go inside?"

  He tightened his lips and squinted. "Not sure. I'm waiting for a call from the chief. He knows you're with me, and he doesn't want to take a chance on putting you at risk."

  I laughed. "What kind of risk do you think we're facing? Tripping and falling over an area rug?"

  "You never know." He pulled up to a stop sign, turned and smiled at me, and then turned all his attention back to his driving. "We've already spoken to her next door neighbor, Janelle Bradford. That woman really didn't like Ms. McClure. She called her 'Messy Essie.'"

  "I can think of worse things to be called," I said. "Any word on Essie's children?"

  "Yeah, as a matter of fact, we know her sons and daughter didn't do it. The twins are on a cruise with their wives, and their sister is at one of their houses watching the kids."

  "At least we can cross them off the list."

  We'd just turned onto Ms. McClure's street. He slowed down and pointed. "Why don't we park in front and wait for the chief's call?"

  The yard that only yesterday looked as though it could have been Yard of the Month for the neighborhood had obviously been trampled quite heavily since I'd last seen it. The grass around where I'd discovered Ms. McClure's body was flattened, and in some places, gone.

  As we waited, we made small talk. "You mentioned where Ms. McClure's children were, but you didn't say how. Have you actually spoken to Essie's daughter?" I asked.

  The frown that had formed on his face grew more pronounced. "We have." He cleared his throat. "She said none of them had a good relationship with their mother. Apparently, she was one of those people who loved everything to look nice, but beneath it all was quite a bit of anger and hostility."

  "That's so sad." I couldn't imagine adult children not loving their mom and dad based on how I felt about my own. But then I knew my parents were
exceptional. Not everyone was as fortunate as I was.

  "Yeah, I know," he agreed. "If this had been my mom, I would have been right in the middle of trying to find out who did it."

  I smiled. "Does your mother live around here?"

  He nodded. "As a matter of fact, she lives not far from here. I asked her if she knew Ms. McClure. She didn't, but she'd heard of her." He grew silent for a moment before he turned to me and asked, "Are you going to take the job and move to Atlanta?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I have the job if I want it, but I don't know if it's really something I should be doing."

  "Being in charge of a bunch of kids who aren't your own has to be rough."

  "The way I remember it, not any rougher than what you do."

  He pondered the thought and bobbed his head. "Yeah, you're probably right."

  I glanced in the right side mirror and saw a car slowing down as it approached. At first, I thought it was going to stop, but when it passed us, I realized it was the same yellow midsized car I'd seen the day before. The man looked me in the eye and sped away. This time, I managed to catch the make of the car and first three digits on his tag. I watched to see where he was going. He turned the corner and exited the neighborhood.

  When I turned to face Vince, I saw that he'd been watching me. "Do you have any idea who that could have been?"

  "No idea whatsoever," I said as I pulled out a pen and paper and jotted down the tag letters. "But I saw him yesterday, and he did the exact same thing. He slowed down, and when he realized I was watching him, he took off. I thought he might be a neighbor, but now I'm not so sure."

  Vince glanced down at the paper I was still holding. "Want me to call that in?"

  I nodded. "I hope we can narrow it down with what we have."

  Vince quickly called in the information and hung up. "I could have done it from here, but since all he did was drive by, it didn’t make sense to do that." He looked in the rearview mirror. "We have company. Time to get to work."

  An SUV pulled up beside us. I glanced at the writing on the side of the vehicle and saw that it was forensics. By the time Vince had his window rolled down, his phone was ringing.