Summer Walsh Mystery Series (3 complete cozy mystery novellas)

by Debby Mayne

  Getting information on Angela was quite a bit more difficult. Each time I thought I had something that would lead me to her, I followed up and eventually hit a dead end.

  Vince walked back to check on me a few times. He seemed impressed that I had any information, and he encouraged me to keep trying to find Angela. "You can do it," he said. "I have confidence that you can find anyone."

  His words added pressure. I was determined to find Angela just to keep from letting him down.

  By the end of the day, I had an appointment with Beth, but I still hadn't found Angela. Instead of having dinner where I was staying, Vince took me to his favorite Italian restaurant. The dim lighting would have been ideal for a romantic meal, but I was so exhausted, it made me drowsy. A half hour after I got back to Maria's house, I was in bed.

  *

  I left the house early the next morning. Beth said she would get to her office before everyone else did so we could talk without interruptions.

  She greeted me in the parking lot. "It's so nice to see you again, but it's too bad about the circumstances," she said in a somber tone. "I sure hope the police can find out who killed him."

  We went into her office, a tiny room off to the side of the foyer. Her metal desk was bare, and her pleather chair appeared to have been a very old cast-off, with small rips that had been patched with duct tape.

  "I'm glad you were able to find a job so quickly," I said. "This is a tough market."

  "It's a job, but I prefer volunteering here and working elsewhere. The pay is terrible, and the hours are long."

  "Is the pay worse than daycare?"

  "Much worse. But at least I can pay the bills. I don't have much stuff, so I'm able to make do in an efficiency apartment." She folded her hands on her desk. "What can I do to help?"

  I asked one question after another, and she answered me very quickly. Beth seemed to be a no-nonsense kind of woman, but I sensed she was holding something back. Finally, I decided to come right out and ask.

  "What do you know that you're not saying?" I asked.

  She chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered the right thing to tell me. "Well, you know that everything in this office is confidential, so I can't come right out and tell you certain things." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You really need to talk with Esther Van Houghton. Find out more about her relationship with Mr. Van Houghton."

  The light came on for me. "Was she one of your clients?"

  Beth's eyebrows rose slightly, and she tilted her head as she continued to look at me.

  "Did Mrs. Van Houghton get you the job at Tiddly Winks?"

  She smiled but still didn't say a word. That was all I needed.

  As I stood, I thanked her and wished her well. "If you hear about a job that pays more than minimum wage, please let me know," she said as I left her office. I assured her I would, even though there was no reason I would ever hear anything about job openings in Atlanta.

  I left Beth's office and drove straight to the townhouses where Esther Van Houghton now lived. I wasn't sure which one was hers, but there was a number over the carport where her car was parked. That seemed like a good bet.

  I pulled into a visitor's spot, got out, and took a long look around. The townhouses were obviously huge, but they didn't seem any nicer than many that were much smaller.

  After ringing the doorbell of the unit that I thought might be Mrs. Van Houghton's, I stepped back. I didn't want to stand too close and risk startling her. The shutters on the window beside the door opened and quickly snapped shut before I heard the deadbolt turning.

  Mrs. Van Houghton flung open the door and just looked at me. "What do you want?"

  "I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind."

  She hesitated for a few seconds before offering a clipped nod and stepping back. "The place is still a mess. It'll take me months to find a place for everything."

  I followed her through the two-story foyer, past what appeared to be a library with a full wall of bookshelves, and into a massive living space that overlooked a courtyard.

  "This is nice," I said.

  Her lips twitched into a slight grin as she made a sweeping gesture toward a loveseat. I sat there while she chose an overstuffed chair that looked like it might have come from Drexel Heritage or Ethan Allen. "What did you want to talk about, Summer?"

  I decided to be as upfront with her as possible because it might help prevent distrust later. "First of all, I'd like to explain why I'm here." I told her about my former job as a detective and how I'd gotten burned out, which was why I went to work for Tiddly Winks.

  She smiled. "Yes, I knew all of that."

  Then I explained how I'd heard from a couple of people about her husband's murder. "Anyone who knows me is aware of the fact that if I think I can help, even a little, I will."

  "Do you think I might have killed my husband?" she asked point blank, which surprised me. Until now, she seemed a little ditzy, but the way she leveled me with the question was actually pretty smart.

  "I don't know. I had some ideas before I got here, but …" I held out my hands and shrugged. "Now I have more questions than answers. Mrs. Van Houghton—"

  "Please call me Esther." She shifted in her seat and tucked one foot beneath her. "First of all, I didn't kill him. In fact, having him gone has been extremely inconvenient for me. You saw the hassle I had to deal with, moving all of those monstrous pieces of furniture into this little place."

  I gulped as I glanced around the room. This place was anything but little.

  "At any rate, I'll do whatever I can to help you. I've been thinking about who might have wanted him gone, and honestly, there are so many people I don't even know where to begin."

  "Really?" Summer said. "Why do you think so many people hated him?"

  "Oh, I didn't say they hated him. It's just that a lot of people are better off without him …" She tilted her head and gave me an odd smile. "Including me. But as I already told you, I didn't do it."

  "How are you better off? I thought you were upset about losing the house."

  "You can't lose anything that isn't yours," she said poignantly. "I knew that house belonged to Claude and Blake, but as long as we were still legally married, I was able to stay there. You already know that it didn't take long after Claude's death to hear from Blake's attorney that he wanted me out immediately." She paused for a moment. "I got the call an hour after Darla found his body."

  "An hour?" I made a mental note to ask Vince when they contacted Blake.

  She rolled her head and rubbed her neck. "Maybe less than an hour. At any rate, he didn't waste any time."

  "Why did you move out so soon?" I asked. "In Tennessee, there's a certain amount of notice he would have to give. I'm sure it's the same in Georgia."

  "There is, but they can also charge rent. I might have married Claude for his family's money, but I didn't get much of it. You can probably imagine the exorbitant price Blake would charge for renting that mansion."

  "If this is the case, why did he write that check to cover your moving expenses?" I asked.

  She flicked an imaginary piece of lent off the arm of the chair. "I guess my attorney must have gotten to him before you did. Otherwise, he would have laughed you right off the property."

  I remembered what Beth had told me to ask. "Mrs. Van … er, Esther, I know you and your husband were separated at the time of his death, but before that, what kind of relationship did you have?"

  Her shoulders rose and lowered as she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You might not see this now, but I used to be very pretty when I was younger. I worked out to stay in shape, and I never missed my weekly appointment at the hair salon. He adored me and even accepted the fact that all I cared about was his money and the lifestyle it could afford." She swallowed hard. "But eventually looks fade, and he saw that being married to a trophy wife wasn't all it was cracked up to be."

  "When did this start happening?" I asked.

  "Ab
out ten years ago. I'll never forget the first time he let me know he'd fallen out of love with me. He came home from whatever he did all day and said that I needed to get off my rear and do something important with my life."

  I listened as she told me how their relationship had gone from decent to terrible very quickly. "Did he ever hit you?"

  She blinked, and a tear trickled down her chin. "Funny you should ask."

  Chapter 8

  My heart went out to Esther. I didn't particularly like her, but no one deserved to be hit.

  "At first, he just backhanded me or threw things at me. Occasionally I threw something back at him." She wiped her tear-moistened cheeks with the back of her sleeve. "But then his abuse got worse."

  "That's terrible," I said softly. "Did you ever get help?"

  She nodded. "One time he broke my arm, so the police took me to a women's shelter."

  I remembered Beth's comment. "Do you know Beth Swanson?"

  Esther nodded and smiled. "That dear woman probably saved my life. She stayed up with me that night and told me over and over that what Claude did to me was not normal and that I didn't deserve to be treated that way."

  "I agree with her." I leaned forward. "What happened next?"

  "Instead of going to court, I agreed to drop charges as long as he let me return to the house without him. He was not allowed on the property without my permission."

  "And he didn't violate that order?" I asked. Based on my experiences as an officer of the law, court orders and restraining orders were broken more often than they were kept.

  "He never once broke it," she said. "I didn't think he would because that would mean the possibility of spending time behind bars. Claude was too proud for that."

  "Where did he live?"

  Esther made a sweeping gesture. "Right here until the day he died."

  We chatted for a few more minutes. She told me about Beth's job at the abused women's agency not paying much, so she'd gone to Claude and insisted he hire her at a decent salary.

  "You just asked him to do it, and he did?"

  She nodded. "Yes. It's amazing what the threat of telling people what really happened between us will do."

  "Have you spoken to her since your husband's murder?" I asked.

  "Yes, but only once. She called to tell me where she'd be and said to stop by if I ever needed to talk." Esther shook her head and made a clicking sound with her tongue, reminding me of what my grandmother used to do. "It breaks my heart that she had to go back to poverty wages."

  I finally got up to leave. "Thank you so much for letting me in, Esther. A few things make more sense now."

  "I'm glad I could help." She walked me to the door. "Just be careful, Summer. There are some bad people out there who don't care who they hurt."

  I waved goodbye and went straight to my car. The unexpected chat with Esther gave me plenty to think about.

  Next on my to-do list was to find Angela. She wasn't high on my suspect list, but I didn't want to leave any stone unturned. If she knew anything about Mr. Van Houghton, I wanted to find out. Sometimes even the smallest tidbit of information was all it took to bring everything to light.

  I called Beth and thanked her for encouraging me to speak with Esther. "See? I thought you might get some good information."

  "She adores you," I said.

  Beth laughed. "I know. She tells me that all the time. What can I help you with now?"

  "Do you have any idea where Angela might have gone? The police went to the address in her records at the daycare center, but she no longer lives there."

  "Her husband hasn't been well lately," Beth said. "I wonder if they might have moved back to Smyrna where he grew up. She mentioned that they wanted to do that soon."

  "Maybe so," I said.

  "I wish I knew more. Sorry."

  "That's okay. I'll see what I can find. Thanks again, Beth. You've been extremely helpful."

  "If there's anything else I can do, you know where to find me."

  After we hung up, I went to the police station, hoping to catch Vince in. Unfortunately, he was out of the office, but John Shackley, one of the guys on the forensics team, was there. I'd met him in Nashville years ago, and then we saw each other again last time I was in Atlanta.

  "Hey, Summer. I heard you were in town. How's life been treatin' ya?"

  "Pretty good. I stopped by to see if Vince could get some information about one of the former teachers at Tiddly Winks. Would you mind checking on someone for me?"

  "Sure, I'm always happy to help a pretty girl."

  I cringed. I remembered the fact that John often said things that weren't politically correct, but I also knew that he had a good heart and meant well.

  "C'mon, follow me." He turned and headed toward another cluster of desks.

  Within a few minutes, he found an address in Smyrna for Angela and her husband and printed it for me. I left the police station as quickly as possible so no one would try to stop me. John didn't seem to care what I did, which was good for me but could have been bad if it had been anyone else.

  The Smyrna neighborhood was old enough to have mature trees lining the street. Most of the houses were two-story red brick homes, and the yards were larger than many of those in the newer subdivisions. It didn't take long to find the address.

  I sat in the car and studied the house for a couple of minutes before getting out and walking up to the front door. Finally, I took a deep breath and knocked. An elderly man who appeared to be in his eighties answered the door. He had a tube in his nose and an oxygen pack on his side, but otherwise, he appeared pretty agile.

  "Does Angela Putnick live here?" I asked.

  He grinned and backed away from the door. "Come on in. I'll get her. I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

  "Summer Walsh," I said.

  "Stay right here while I go see what she's up to."

  I waited by the door for a couple of minutes, until Angela walked around the corner. She smiled as soon as she saw me.

  "Hey, Summer. What brings you here?" She gestured for me to follow her. "Let's go sit down in the den."

  Once we were seated, the man joined us. "Can I get either of you ladies something to drink?" He looked at me. "We have coffee, tea, lemonade, or a variety of soft drinks."

  "Nothing for me, thanks," I said.

  Angela shook her head. "I just finished a cup of coffee. Before you go, I'd like to introduce y'all. Summer, this is my husband Peter." She turned to Peter. "Summer is the lady I told you about—the one Mr. Van Houghton hired to run Tiddly Winks."

  A look of understanding flashed in his eyes. "Yes, I remember now. Nice to meet you, Summer. Are you sure I can't get either of you anything?" he asked.

  "Nice to meet you, Peter. I'm not thirsty, but thanks anyway."

  "Okay, then I'll leave the two of you to chat. I think I hear the birds calling me into the backyard." Peter turned and left.

  "Yes, to answer the question I see in your eyes, Peter is quite a bit older than me." Angela laughed. "But in spite of his oxygen tube, he can still run circles around most people half his age."

  "He seems like a sweet man." I cleared my throat.

  "So what brings you here?" Angela asked.

  "I might as well get straight to the point. Did anything trigger any alarms in you at Tiddly Winks before the murder?"

  "No, not that I can think of," she replied. "I've been thinking about that ever since it happened, and I can't imagine who could have done it."

  "When was the last time you spoke to him?" I asked. "Or even saw him, for that matter?"

  "I actually spoke to him the day before his body was found. It was rather late in the afternoon when I went in to give him my two weeks notice."

  "Were the two of you alone?" I asked.

  "As a matter of fact, we weren't. Julie's stepfather texted her and said her car was ready. Apparently, he'd taken it in to have it serviced, and he offered to bring it to the daycare center. Julie was on her
way to his office, so we went in there together."

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck as I remembered Darla saying she'd seen the light blue convertible driving past the window. "Do you know anything about Julie's family?" I asked.

  "Funny you should ask me that. Right before we got to the office, she slipped up and said something about her stepfather being Mr. Van Houghton's brother. I'm not sure why, but she made me promise not to tell anyone else."

  "Did you have the opportunity to meet her stepfather?"

  Angela nodded. "Yes, and I would have figured out that they were brothers as soon as I saw the two of them together. They didn't look that much alike, but they have the same mannerisms."

  "How long were you in the office?" I asked.

  "Just long enough to give my notice. I could tell that they were in the middle of some sort of discussion, and I wasn't exactly welcome."

  I tilted my head and studied her face. She appeared to be telling the truth. "Think really hard, Angela. Did you see anything disturbing about either of the Van Houghton brothers? Their behavior toward each other or angry glances?"

  "Disturbing?" She shook her head. "Not really."

  "Can you describe anything about him, like where he was standing, what he was wearing, or whether or not he had anything with him?"

  Angela looked up as she thought for a moment, and then she nodded. "As a matter of fact, yes. Julie's stepfather was holding a plastic bag. I couldn't tell what was in it or where it was from."

  "Did Julie stay in the office after you left?"

  "No. She got the keys to her car and went out the back. It was late in the day, and all but one of her kids had gone home. When we got down to just a few children, they all went into one of the classrooms where we took turns waiting for their parents."

  "Can you remember anything else?"

  "I left the office to see if I was needed. Darla told me to go on home, and she'd stick around until all of the kids were picked up."