Summer Walsh Mystery Series (3 complete cozy mystery novellas)

by Debby Mayne

  As I listened, I thought about how he'd come to the conclusion that she had a motive for the murder. Mr. Van Houghton didn't bother trying to hide the fact that he didn't respect Darla. He'd hired me, someone with no daycare experience, to manage the center over Darla who'd been working in that field for years. She also remained loyal to Tiddly Winks, but Mr. Van Houghton never showed an ounce of appreciation.

  "Do you think he shorted her check intentionally?" Vince asked.

  I shrugged. "How should I know?"

  "You know the man."

  "Well …" I drummed my fingers on his desk until he glared at me. I stopped and pulled my hand away. "He wasn't exactly the most agreeable person, but I don't think he was totally dishonest. If an increase in pay was in her contract, I think he'd do it."

  "We asked her if she had a contract." He shook his head and folded his arms. "She didn't."

  I should have advised her to get everything in writing. "Granted Darla has been working there for a long time without a raise. But I doubt she would have been able to strangle him if she'd come in to ask about it."

  "Yeah, that's what we were thinking, which is why our theory is that she was there waiting for him."

  I tilted my head and stifled a laugh. "You think she lurked in a closet and pounced on him from behind?"

  "Something like that."

  "C'mon, Vince. It's too easy to find out where she was before she found him."

  He glanced down at the floor and then narrowed his eyes as he looked back at me. "Maybe she did it before anyone else got to the office. He'd been dead for a few hours by the time forensics arrived."

  What Vince was saying was that Darla murdered Mr. Van Houghton before anyone else got to the daycare center, and then she went out and acted as though everything was normal. According to his theory, her trip to his office to ask about her shorted check was an act to throw people off.

  "I don't think that's what happened."

  He grinned. "And that's why you're here. We know that you won't leave any stone unturned." His smile faded. "And if it really was Darla, you're the one who can make her talk. She likes you."

  I glanced at my watch. "I'd like to go chat with some of the other daycare workers soon before I go to my hotel."

  "Hotel?" He tilted his head and gave me an apologetic look. "You don't have to stay in a hotel. My sister said you can stay at her house while you're here."

  "Your sister?"

  He nodded. "She lives down the street from me."

  "That's very sweet of her, but my mom has rewards points with the Marriott."

  "Save her points and stay with my sister. I'm sure your parents can use a nice vacation."

  Vince was right. It was very sweet of my mother to give me her points, but it would be better for me to stay somewhere free.

  "Okay, I'll call my mother and have her cancel my reservation. Where does your sister live?"

  "About a block from me." He stood. "I'll call her and let her know you'll be there in a couple of hours, while you call your mom."

  My mother gave me a very weak argument, but she gave in pretty quickly, an indication that she was actually glad to have her points back. "If you change your mind, don't hesitate …"

  "I'll let you know. Thanks so much, Mom."

  After I hung up, I went to the lobby where Vince was waiting. "She invited both of us to dinner. My sister is a great cook, so you're in for a treat."

  Vince clearly knew me well. "Can't wait for dinner."

  He grinned. "I thought you might say that. Ready to go talk to some folks at the daycare center?"

  I left my car in the police station parking lot since it was on the way back to his sister's house. As we drove, I asked a bunch of questions, including what was happening with the children at the center.

  "Unfortunately, we had to clear the place out. The parents were ticked, and I doubt most of them will ever bring their children back."

  "I don't blame them," I said.

  "A couple of the teachers said they weren't coming back, even if the kids did."

  I thought for a moment before I commented. "With Mr. Van Houghton gone, I wonder what will become of the place."

  "Maybe his widow will sell it. From what we've gathered, she took very little interest in the business, with the exception of spending all the profit her husband made. I think they might have been living in separate houses lately."

  "So why isn't she a suspect?"

  He shrugged. "She was in the beginning, but according to some of the other people we spoke with, she was fine with the status quo."

  "Have you spoken with her yet?" I asked.

  "I haven't, but one of the other detectives did. Apparently she broke into tears, but the guy who talked to her said it seemed fake."

  "I'd like to talk to her, if you don't mind." I looked at Vince for approval, but he didn't nod, gesture, or say a word. "I promise to behave."

  Vince broke into laughter. "You? Behave? Now that's something I'd like to see."

  "Okay, so I'll probably go where you don't want me to go, but that's the good thing about not being a paid detective. You can't reprimand me."

  "That's the Summer I was hoping to see." His expression appeared downright gleeful as he continued driving toward the daycare center. "So tell me about your chat with Darla when she called."

  "She didn't say much, but I could tell she was upset." I swallowed hard. "Vince, I really don't think she did it. The woman was hurt by the fact that he'd overlooked her for so long, and she was overjoyed when he finally promoted her."

  "But the shorted paycheck …"

  "I don't think she's all that motivated by money."

  Vince pulled up to a stop sign and looked at me. "Remember that she allegedly went to his office to ask about it."

  "Probably just to let him know there was a mistake."

  He sighed as he pulled away from the stop sign. "You might be right, but all signs point to her. We can't find motives for anyone else."

  My thoughts instantly went back to Mrs. Van Houghton. Mr. Van Houghton mentioned her when I worked for him, and now Vince even commented that she enjoyed spending his profit.

  "When was the last time Mr. Van Houghton was with his wife?" I asked.

  Vince shrugged. "I'm not sure."

  "The detective who interviewed her didn't ask?" I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice. That would have been one of the first questions I would have asked.

  "I don't know. He didn't say."

  "Let me talk to him before we get to the daycare center." I pulled my phone from my handbag. "What's his number?"

  Vince reached out and placed his hand on my arm. "No, I'll call him."

  I understood. "Please call him now, okay?"

  He did as I asked and put the detective he called Hawk on speakerphone. I listened but didn't say a word until they hung up.

  "It sounds as though the interview wasn't very thorough."

  "Hawk doesn't like to see women cry."

  I grimaced. "She probably sensed it. I'll talk to her."

  "I didn't ask you to … or give you permission to talk to her, or anyone for that matter."

  "Point noted. I'm doing all of this on my own."

  Vince visibly relaxed. "I want you to know how much I … we appreciate you. The chief said to remind you that we always have a position open, and we are an equal opportunity employer."

  I laughed. "I'll try to remember, but in case I don't, you can keep reminding me."

  "Oh, trust me, I will." He turned into the nearly vacant Tiddly Winks Daycare parking lot and found a spot close to the door. "One of the detectives is still in there with a couple of the teachers. We let most of them go home."

  "I bet they were shaken up."

  His nod turned into a head-bob. "A couple of them were, but we were surprised by how well they took the news."

  I remembered what I'd heard about how Mr. Van Houghton was asked not to go out into the classroom area because he was so distracting
. His demeanor didn't come across as friendly, except for a few times when he managed a faint smile, and I was never sure it was real. Based on what little I knew about kids, most of them could see through fake.

  Vince turned off the ignition and turned toward me. "Summer, remember that I'm not telling you to do this."

  I held up a hand. "All right, already. I know. This is something I choose to do. All you did was tell me about the murder."

  "Perfect." He got out, and I was right behind him.

  Right before we got to the door, it opened. A uniformed offer looked relieved as he stepped aside to let us in. "It's about time y'all got here. These ladies are gettin' all squirmy."

  I smiled at the man who appeared to be barely out of training. "Hi," I said as I extended my hand. "I'm Summer Walsh, a … a friend of Officer Yates."

  He took my hand, shook it, and quickly shoved his hand into his pocket. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Walsh." Then he turned to Vince. "Is it okay if I leave now?"

  "Go ahead," Vince said. As soon as the officer left, Vince turned to me. "By the way, that was Deputy Jenkins. He's new."

  "I figured that."

  As we walked past the lobby area and through the door that now stood open, I realized how sterile the place seemed. In my mind, a learning center for children should be colorful and vibrant, with pictures on every wall and the smell of paste and crayons. Instead, this place smelled like pine cleaner. I hadn't noticed that before.

  I was about to say something to Vince, when I heard someone call my name from behind. I spun around to see who it was.

  Chapter 4

  "Hi, Darla," I said. "I didn't expect to see you here." I glanced over at Vince, who shrugged, before turning back to face Darla. Her face was pale, and she had deep, dark circles beneath her eyes. "Are you okay?"

  She started to nod, but then her chin quivered, and a single tear found its way down her cheek as she shook her head. "Not really." She cut her gaze over to Vince and then looked back at me. "They're acting like they think I killed Mr. Van Houghton."

  I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. "Let's go have a talk." I glanced over at Vince. "If you'll excuse us, I need to chat with my friend Darla."

  "Go right ahead." He gestured toward one of the abandoned classrooms. "I'll be right here when you're done."

  After gently guiding Darla to one of the miniature chairs, I pulled up another one and sat down to face her. "Darla, you really need to tell me everything about that day."

  She lifted her hand to her mouth and tensed. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and started shivering. My heart ached for this woman who I was convinced only wanted to teach children and get paid for the job she so deserved.

  "Darla," I said softly. "You really need to tell me what happened." I paused, took a breath as I thought about what to say next. I decided to tell her what I really felt since I wasn't bound by professional silence. "I'm on your side."

  She removed her hand and tried to smile, but her lips twitched and turned downward. "You know I wouldn't even think about killing anyone. Mr. Van Houghton was my boss, and I never thought about him except when I had to."

  "I know," I said in as comforting of a voice as I could. "Unfortunately, this is one of those times when you'll have to prove your innocence."

  "But I thought it was up to the police to prove guilt." She clasped her hands in her lap and tilted her head to one side. "What am I supposed to do?"

  "Just tell the truth and answer all their questions."

  "That's what I did, but they still—"

  "Look, Darla, they're going to ask you the same questions over and over but in a different way."

  "Why would they do that if I answer them the first time?"

  I had to tell her the truth, even though it was painful to do it. "They're looking for inconsistencies."

  "So they're trying to trip me up?" Her eyes widened.

  With only a moment of hesitation, I nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

  "What am I supposed to do?" she asked. "I have to make a living, and with the police thinking I killed Mr. Van Houghton, no one will hire me."

  That was a conundrum—one I'd seen many times. "Do you have a family?" I asked.

  Darla tightened her lips, glanced down at her hands that were still clasped, and eventually looked back up at me, shaking her head. "I used to, but my ex-husband and his wife have my daughter."

  "How old is your daughter?" I asked as nicely as I could.

  "Fourteen. She was with me until she was twelve, and then my ex promised her the moon and then some. I couldn't compete on my measly income, and you know how girls that age can be."

  I nodded, although I wasn't sure I really knew. I'd always been different from most girls. If anyone had tried to come between my mom and me, even at that age, I probably would have beaten him up.

  "Do you have a mortgage or rent?"

  "A mortgage. I live in a small house about three miles from here."

  "Are you behind on any payments?" I asked.

  "No, not yet." She shifted in her chair. "I have a little bit of savings, but if I don't find a job within a month, I'll be in serious trouble."

  I reached for both of her hands and gave them a squeeze before letting go. "Maybe we can find who did kill Mr. Van Houghton soon, and you won't have to worry about finances." I gave her what I hoped was a comforting smile. "I'll even give you a recommendation."

  The sound of someone calling my name from the other side of the door caught my attention. I got up and opened it. Vince tapped his watch, so I turned around and told Darla not to go far over the next couple of days. She promised she wouldn't. I had her phone number, so I said I'd call her soon.

  After she left, Vince shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Well?"

  I lifted an eyebrow. "Well what?"

  "Did she or didn't she?"

  "I still don't think she killed him, which is why we need to get to everyone who knew him. We especially need to get a statement from Mrs. Van Houghton."

  Vince's face contorted. "We've been trying to nail down a time to speak with her after the first interview, but she's been too busy."

  "Busy?" I asked. "Doing what?"

  "Who knows?"

  "May I have her phone number?" I asked. "I'll talk to her."

  Vince rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd love to give you her phone number, but the chief says we need to tread lightly with you."

  "Come on, Vince. I didn't come all the way from Nashville to get the run-around."

  "You know we have to work around things for you to even be involved in this."

  I didn't say anything. I just stared at Vince. He was right. Not being a member of the police force was a handicap, but I still wanted to be involved. Vince knew as well as I did that detective work was in my blood. I couldn't help myself, which was why he'd called me to begin with.

  "Her name is Esther," Vince said softly. "You can look up Claude and Esther Van Houghton on the Internet and find everything you need to contact her."

  I smiled at him. "Thank you."

  "Ready to meet my sister? She's expecting us for dinner."

  "Can't wait." As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. "I hope you told her I'm a hearty eater."

  "I did." He playfully nudged me. "Just remember to leave enough for the rest of us."

  We went back to the station where I got my car to follow Vince to his sister's house. He'd told me to pull into the driveway while he parked at the curb.

  I liked Maria the instant I met her. As I extended my hand when Vince introduced us, she ignored the gesture and grabbed me for a hug.

  "It's so nice to meet you," she said as she pulled away, still holding on to my shoulders, as she looked me in the eye. "Vince can't stop talking about you." She cut a look over to him and laughed.

  I turned to face him in time to see him gesturing a zip across the lips. He gave me a sheepish grin.

  A man appeared from behind Maria, and she stepped aside. "This i
s my husband Tom Edwards," Maria said. "Come on in, and I'll get you something to drink." She leaned around me to talk to Vince. "Why don't you get her things and carry them up to the guest room?"

  "I can get—"

  Maria interrupted me. "Let Vince do it." She leaned toward me and whispered, "It makes him feel like a big, strong man to do the heavy lifting."

  I smiled. "Whatever it takes."

  "Iced tea or lemonade?" she asked as we got to her large, well-appointed kitchen with a large granite-topped island and stainless steel appliances. Mom had been hounding Dad to have their kitchen renovated, and I suspected this was exactly what she wanted.

  "Tea is fine. Nice kitchen."

  "I know, right? When we went looking for houses, Tom thought I was being silly when I told him I had to have all this stuff." She gestured around. "But now that we're here, he says he gets it. In fact, he's starting to become quite the cook."

  "It sure smells good in here," I said.

  "I hope you like it. Vince said you like Italian food."

  I nodded. "And Greek food and Indian food and Thai food—"

  Maria leaned back and grinned. "You and I will get along just fine. When you move to Atlanta, I'll show you all the really cool little hole-in-the-wall restaurants with the best food."

  "Whoa. When I move to Atlanta?"

  A stricken look came over her face as she raised a hand to her mouth. "Oops. Sorry." She gave me a sheepish look. "Vince really wants you here, and he usually gets his way."

  "That's okay," I said.

  "It's really not okay, and I'm sure Vince would be furious if he knew I slipped up."

  "Your secret is safe."

  "Good." She sighed. "I don't know if you realize that you're the first girl who has turned my brother's head in a very long time. He likes strong women."

  "Vince is a very sweet guy," I said. The attraction was there, but I wasn't about to act on it, considering two very important facts. First, the distance between Nashville and Atlanta wasn't conducive to a relationship. Second, I was here to help figure out who murdered Mr. Van Houghton and not to get caught up in romance.