by Kristi Rose
I waved off the comment. “I’ll take care of it. What did you two find out?”
“Josh was from Port Angeles, but he bounced around a lot before he landed here six years ago. Taught in special education at the high school, kids with behavior issues. He piloted a program for troubled teens identified as high risk for dropping out. It was his experience with both general and special education students that made him a candidate for VGS. Your mom says he was a lock for the job, only Alice Andrews was a holdout. She wanted a different candidate.”
The special ed part bothered me. It takes a special person with a teacher’s heart to work with struggling kids. Josh didn’t strike me as having the skills or desire. He was an all talk kinda guy. Kids in special education, myself included, needed teachers who walked the walk. “What kind of program was it he piloted?”
Dad glanced at his paper. “Teaching them computers and coding. Skills for the modern age.”
“How did he become an administrator?” The leap from special education to the big office sounded too large.
Dad said, “He had the degree. And his programs showed good success rate. He’d held several education positions in Port Angeles, coming down through the Kitsap Peninsula, and then Chehalis. I asked your mom, and she said reducing the dropout rate has been a struggle for Wind River. This was the selling factor in hiring Josh.”
Dad held up his index finger. “But get this. Toby found Kitsap School District flagged his human resource file, but he couldn’t tell what for. I called up and spoke with the head of HR there. She was definitely squirrelly about Josh. Wouldn’t say a thing.”
My natural curiosity came from this man. Investigative reporter. Private Investigator. Not much difference in my opinion. He handed me the papers.
Looking through them, I said, “He was never married. No family.”
“Go to the last page,” Dad instructed.
I flipped to the end. I gave a low whistle and looked at Lockett. “Josh has serious money in his bank account.”
“How serious?” Lockett asked, coming to stand next to Dad.
“Almost two million dollars.” I held out the financials for Lockett to peruse.
Dad crossed his arms. “Lots of things can explain this. Maybe he inherited his parents’ life insurance. Maybe it’s part of a settlement.”
I shrugged. “Sure. Or maybe there’s more to it.”
Precious collapsed on the couch next to me and kicked off her stupidly high heels. Her hair was knotted into a French twist. Her makeup was immaculate even though the day was nearly over. She wore a silk navy shirt with tiny flowers on it and a bright yellow skirt. Her coach’s whistle hung from a navy lanyard around her neck.
“And we’ll find out what that is.” She pumped a fist.
Lockett warned, “Cautiously. We’ll do everything cautiously to not give the police more to hold against Sam.” He held my gaze. “I’d prefer you do nothing until we get the full picture of what Josh died from. He might have had a heart attack for all we know.”
My dad sat on the coffee table in front of me. “I want you to walk me through everything.”
I blew out a sigh. What was everything? Where did this story start? With Rachel at the open house? The moment I stepped into his office today, angry?
“Did you know a mom complained that Cora sexually harassed her daughter because she was swiping up and down on one of those sequin shirts?”
Dad reared back and looked at me as if I’d just told him his fantasy league would bomb. An inconceivable notion.
I nodded. “Yeah, Josh told me to meet with him Thursday to discuss it, but fat chance I was going to wait two days to sort this out.”
“And?”
“And he died a few minutes after I stormed into his office to confront him.” I grimaced. “It was awful, Dad. There wasn’t anything I could do. At first, I thought he was choking, but he could talk. He was sweaty and pale and asking for water. Though his words were slurred. And there was nothing I could do. Or at least I hope there wasn’t because my reaction…” I shook my head, trying to forget the image of his last expression.
We sat in silence.
Lockett broke the quiet. “Do you think his death was… ah… more than it seems?”
We locked eyes. “Do I think Josh was killed?” I shrugged one shoulder. “I dunno. I know I didn’t kill him, and I also know his last few minutes weren’t easy or peaceful.”
A rap on my door made my pulse quicken.
I expected DB to show up at any moment and arrest me. Logically, I knew he wouldn’t, but back in high school when we’d been partners in chemistry, he’d sucked at doing experiments. His solution was to make a conclusion, then write the findings and hypothesis to fit. Was I going to be treated like a conclusion? My gut said yes. Because that was the easiest path to a solution.
Everyone’s attention bounced between me and the door.
“It’s probably the food delivery guy,” I said, more casually than I felt.
I whipped the door open and braced myself for whatever was on the other side.
Toby stood on the other side with bags of food in both hands. “Someone order delivery?”
“We did.” Lockett came forward and took the bags from Toby. “It’s good to see you, man. Can you come in and eat with us?”
Toby glanced at his watch. I glanced at the clock on the wall. We were getting close to his high time. The hours where he liked to get stoned and watch Scooby Doo or Northern Exposure reruns.
“Yeah, I got time. Besides, the PoPo is down there sitting in their car. I figure they’re headed up and sticking around might prove interesting.”
I glanced at my dad and Lockett then stepped out to the landing and leaned over the rail. Below, parked along the curb, a police cruiser idled. The cop inside appeared to be sitting in silence. His profile was one I knew well. I stuck my ring and index finger in my mouth and let a shrill whistle loose.
The dude in the car, Leo, dropped his head into his hands. Figuring he was struggling between doing the right thing and doing something stupid, I decided to make things easier for him. I was going to him. Because there was no telling if being here was right or stupid. I moved to the top step when he opened his door and climbed out. I waited.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at me. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Then go.”
We continued to survey each other.
I broke first. “Or you could come in and have some food that Toby just delivered and tell us what’s on your mind. Because why else would you be here if something wasn’t eating at you?”
He blew out a heavy sigh then climbed the stairs. Once inside, I closed the door behind us.
“Leo, you know Tyson Lockett.”
The men nodded at each other. If Leo found it odd that my lawyer was the best friend of my dead fake-husband, he kept his trap shut about it.
Precious set out the food and walked around handing out plates to everyone. “Dig in,” she said. “We can all pretend today hasn’t been a terrible-no-good day.”
A bright yellow sack the size of a softball, made from felt and shaped like a curling bunch of bananas, hung from around Toby’s neck.
I pointed to it. “What in the world is that?”
Everyone looked at Toby. He followed the trajectory of my finger and glanced down at this chest. He caressed the felt sack. “This is Lady Marmalade’s travel carrier.”
Leo’s lips twitched as he cut his eyes to me.
I said. “And Lady Marmalade is…?”
Toby set down his plate and gently stuck his hand in the belly of the banana. He pulled out a brown ball of… well… I don’t know what it was. I stepped closer.
“Is that a squirrel?” Dad asked.
Toby grinned. “A sugar glider. She’s my emotional support animal. Remember when I got shot?” He gave me a pointed look as if I were the one who pulled the trigger when, in fact, I had been the one who offered him several out
s to the situation prior to the event.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Precious said. “The bullet grazed you.”
Toby gasped and cuddled Lady Marmalade to him. “And that’s supposed to be less traumatic? I suppose when you all were held up at Junkie’s, you were only sorta robbed because they didn’t take anything from you personally.”
“He’s got you there,” I told Precious. “I think you might be jealous you didn’t think of getting an emotional support animal.”
She huffed and plopped on the couch. “Maybe.”
“Can I hold her?” I asked Toby.
He shook his head. “We’re still getting to know each other. Watch this.” He set Lady M on my kitchen counter and gave her a small pellet of food he took from his pocket. Then he stepped away. We stood quietly as she worked over the tiny bit of food. We watched her. She watched us.
“Okay,” Toby said. “Ready?”
Was he asking the sugar glider or us?
Then he gave a sharp, short whistle and held out his hands. Lady M leapt into them. He cooed, rubbed her against his face, and then slid her back into the pouch.
“Cool,” Dad said. “I might want to do an article on you and Lady Marmalade.”
Toby nodded and grinned. “Yeah, we can do that.” He reached under his T-shirt and lifted out the lanyard with his vaping pen dangling from the end. He was seconds from putting it to his lips when Dad knocked it out of his hands.
The force of my dad’s swat broke the vape pen from the lanyard. It fell to the floor, bounced, then skid its way under my couch.
“What the frack, Mr. T?” Toby cried.
Lady Marmalade hissed.
Toby immediately went to sooth Lady M while glaring at my dad.
Dad took a small notepad from his pocket. “Story breaking tonight. In fact, I have to head downstairs to get the story to press. Over twenty people have been hospitalized with this vaping lung disease. And the best guess is the juice has been tampered with. Three people have died.”
Toby gestured to my couch, where his vape pen had gone. “We all know this. I use non-nicotine flavored juice and I heard it was only the nicotine based ones. I have nothing to worry about.”
Dad shook his pen at Toby. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. They haven’t ruled out the non-nicotine vials. The person hospitalized today apparently was using non-nicotine vape juice. No specific flavors have been identified. They’re looking into non-nicotine based juice.”
Toby paled. He lifted the hem of his shirt around Lady M and began wiping his tongue off with the end.
I glanced at Leo. Then Lockett. Then I lunged for my camera and whipped it out of the bag. My fingers fumbled to bring the screen to life.
In my head, I saw today’s events play out. Josh by the garbage right before Danika came out. “Josh was vaping today.”
Dad shook his head. “I don’t think he was a smoker.”
Leo said. “There were two vials of vape juice in his desk drawer.”
I showed the image to the group.
Leo again, “But we didn’t find a vape pen on his body.”
I slowed the playback in my head. “He threw it away. Only he missed and kicked it behind the trash can outside the school.” I squinted. “Wait, that might have been his coffee cup. Either way, it’s the can on the right if you’re facing the building.”
Dad’s phone pinged. He glanced at the screen. Then at us. “Another vaping lung death.”
“How many in our area?” Precious asked.
Dad said, “The first three were on the east coast.” He tapped his phone. “This latest one is in Portland.”
Toby slumped against the counter and stroked Lady M’s head, which was poking out of the banana. “Jeez, Mr. T, you probably saved my life.”
I wagged my finger at him. “No vaping until the police get to the bottom of this. There’s no emotional support animal good enough to make you feel better about being dead.”
Toby nodded solemnly. “I can do that. But as soon as they rule out the flavor I’m—” He looked hopeful, desperate. Addicted.
“Nope,” Leo said. “Only when they know for sure the cause and not before then.” He pointed to me. “What if this killed Josh Chapman?”
Toby, already a pasty white, turned gray. “You guys are killing me.”
“We’re keeping you alive,” Precious said.
Leo moved to stand in front of the door. “I have to go. Samantha, I want you to take that picture to the cops first thing.”
Lockett said, “I’ll take a copy tonight.”
Leo nodded. He pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking. “There’s something that needs to be said, but I need to know it’ll be held in the strictest of confidence.”
Toby, over his shock of not being able to vape, dumped a half carton of white rice on his plate. “Everyone thinks my brain’s fried, anyway. I could spill state secrets, and everyone would think I’d made it up.” He poured Moo Goo Gai Pan onto his rice.
Leo met my gaze and held it. “You said something to me that’s not sitting right. Josh’s eyes?” He arched a brow, indicating I should talk now.
“They were blank before he hit his head. I’m no expert, but he was dead before he fell over. Or I suppose he fell over because he was dead.”
Leo nodded and appeared to be contemplating my words. “Maybe he was a victim of this vape juice tampering. Maybe not.” He faced my dad. “Any of these people die quickly?”
Dad shook his head. “Within twenty-four hours, but they were hospitalized first. None as suddenly as Josh.”
Leo faced me. “With your picture, we can make sure the vaping is fully investigated. But if that fails to produce anything… Listen. Right now, DB is going with the cause of death being a blow to the head. And if the medical examiner verifies, if it’s not the vaping lung, then DB will look right at you.” Leo nodded to Dad’s papers. “You need to get in front of this. Dig into Josh’s life.”
“I didn’t kill him,” I said. Because I couldn’t say it enough. “Maybe he died from natural causes?”
Leo arched a brow. “Not with your luck. Let’s hope Josh was a victim of this vaping lung disease.”
There were no truer words.
Lockett said, “Leo’s right. If Louney has enough circumstantial evidence and the district attorney likes it, they can charge you with manslaughter in the second degree. That’s a class B felony.”
Leo said, “Up to ten years in prison with a fat fine, too. Twenty K.”
Precious whistled. Lady M popped out her head.
I thought of that bird that had died at both Rachel and my feet. Bad omen came to fruition today. “I would not do well in prison,” I said.
“Fo shizzle,” Toby said.
8
Wednesday
Nothing boosts one’s self-esteem like needing a job and having to take a position with their successful and savvy, entrepreneurial best friend. Said no one ever.
Oh, that and being suspected of murder.
I’d tossed and turned all night with one nagging thought. If the medical examiner determined Josh’s death to be a homicide, then DB’s shortsightedness would put me right in the crosshairs of his scope. I was sure in the history of time there’d been flimsier motives than defending one’s niece against accusations of sexual harassment. Particularly when said niece was only a few years out of diapers.
Man, I hoped Leo found that vape pen, and they discovered Josh was the victim of whoever was spiking liquid nicotine vials.
Or, better yet, maybe he had a family history of heart disease, and he was the victim of bad genetics and too many carbs and saturated fats.
Either way, I was knee-deep in this and sinking fast.
I needed a plan. A safety net. I needed to CMB. Cover my butt. In school, there should have been teachers to guide me, but a fair amount let me down. I couldn’t trust the judicial system to be any different.
Only, I wasn’t sure where to start. And
Russell True, my brilliant father, once told me if a person sat on a problem long enough, a solution would present itself. Doing so created distance, and maybe then I’d see everything through a different lens. Though “long enough” seemed like an ambivalently unsafe amount of time. Easily confused with being passive. So, I gave myself forty-eight hours to get my act together, and if I didn’t have a plan by then, willy-nilly it would be.
In the meantime, I needed money and Precious needed help.
Dressed in navy capri leggings, a navy cotton skirt, a white T-shirt and Klogs, I drove to Camas to be a personal assistant to one of Precious’s clients.
A quaint town on the Columbia River, Camas was beautiful, charming, and home to a paper mill and, some days, a ripe smell. My phone GPS was winding me up the mountain away from the river.
Precious’s call interrupted the nasally GPS voice.
“What?” I said into my phone’s speaker. “I’m trying to find the place now.”
“Okay. There’s something I should have told you before you took the job,” she said.
I pulled to the side of the road and turned on my hazards. “How bad is it? Because I don’t think I can take anymore.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s not bad.”
I scoffed. If it wasn’t bad, then why didn’t she tell me this at her office this morning? Riddle me that.
“It’s not even a thing, really,” she hemmed.
“Precious, just say it. Because I’m sitting on the side of the road, and I’m going to be late.” A true crime in her opinion.
“Okay, so AJ is great.”
“You already said this. He’s also sexy and off-limits because it’s against company policy to date clients. But you’re good with me going because you figure Carson jacked me up for a good long while. We’ve gone through this today, too. What aren’t you saying?”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “I think he’s hiding something. I think he might fire me, and I need you to feel him out to see if that’s true.”
I shook my head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s another company out of Seattle that’s been trying to poach my clients. They’ve copied my ads, they’ve cold-called some of my clients, and they even have a representative who resembles me. I think they’re going to take AJ away from me. Think about it. He’s the client that can keep on giving. He can tell his teammates about me. If he gets traded to another team, he can tell those teammates about me. Endless customers.”