A Murderous Misconception

by Lorraine Bartlett

  Our real selves? An image of Andy flashed into Katie’s mind.

  “By the way,” Healy continued, “I was rechecking the smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, and I discovered that the smoke detector wasn’t the one I installed.”

  Katie decided to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

  “I hate to say it, but someone other than me or another of my crew changed it.”

  She knew exactly what he meant, and he was more than kind to point it out to her. Stomach turning, Katie forced a laugh. “I hope you didn’t give away your secret chili recipe or anything.”

  “I didn’t. And, in fact, I replaced the device,” he said and winked. “I couldn’t trust that a smoke detector I didn’t install would adequately do the job, could I? My reputation as a contractor is on the line.”

  Katie swallowed down the lump of fear that had taken residence in her throat. “Thank you, John.”

  “Glad to do it,” he said. “I just wanted you to know before we go into the apartment and you see the bogus smoke detector on your kitchen table.”

  “Do you think it’s still working?” she asked.

  “Well, I, for one, wouldn’t light a cigarette around it. At least, not until you’ve examined it, taken out the batteries, and done whatever you think you need to do.”

  Katie paused at the bottom of the stairs. “You could get in trouble for taking it down, you know.”

  “For what? Replacing the smoke detector? Why? I’m just doing my job.”

  She smiled. Thanks to John, she could feel more comfortable in her home now.

  But Schuler was sure to notice his device had been made useless when it ceased to work. Maybe she should leave it as it was. But was the bug left in her apartment even legal? She’d have to ask Ray—or maybe Seth. Either way, she needed to keep her mouth shut while in her new home.

  Nobody should have to fear they were being monitored in their own home—especially by clandestine measures.

  Nobody.

  Chapter 21

  Rather than returning to Artisans Alley following the meeting with her contractor, Katie walked over to Wood U. If anyone could give her advice about how to approach the disguised smoke detector—aka listening device that had been planted in her apartment—it would be Ray.

  The former detective barely glanced up from his work when she walked through the door. “Be right with you,” he said.

  A lanky man was standing in front of the counter watching intently as Ray used a V tool to “line in” a pattern on a wooden plank.

  “Use a medium gouge in a low angle grip,” Ray instructed, handing the tool to his customer. “Here. Give it a try.” He glanced in her direction and his expression brightened. “Be with you in a few minutes, Katie.”

  “That’s all right,” she said. “I just wanted to speak with you about the…um…the upcoming Harvest Festival.”

  Wandering around his shop, Katie realized she didn’t often take the time to appreciate Ray’s work. She ran her fingers along an intricately carved panel depicting a family of elephants. Hearing him encouraging his customer to improve his craft made her smile. As impatient and irascible as the man could be, Ray was thoughtful and considerate toward his students and customers.

  When at last the student left, Katie turned to her friend with a broad smile.

  “What?” he groused.

  “I’m just admiring your exquisite work,” she said. “You know, you’re a talented artisan.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Like why you’re really here? Harvest Festival, my ass.”

  Katie frowned. “John Healy found the listening device in the apartment over Tealicious. It’s hidden in a smoke detector.” She shrugged. “Or designed to look like one anyway.”

  Her revelation made his bushy eyebrows rise. “Did you have him looking for bugs?”

  “No. He noticed the smoke alarm wasn’t the one he installed,” she said. “He switched it out with his own and told me about it.”

  “But how did he know the smoke detector was a listening device?” Ray asked.

  “He didn’t say. Maybe he made an assumption—a correct one, I might add—since he’d been in the apartment when the police came to conduct their search.”

  Stepping out from behind the counter, Ray rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face. “Possibly. But he was awfully quick to point out this smoke detector listening device to you.”

  “I was employing him to do a job,” Katie said. “Plus, I’d like to think he and I are friends. I’d point out a listening device to you if I found one in your apartment.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He waved away her protests with a broad right hand. “Just be careful around the guy. You don’t know him that well. And having Healy find that bug might’ve been a ploy the police are using for him to gain your trust and get you to confess.”

  “Are you this skeptical about everybody?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said.

  She’d known him long enough to realize that was probably the truth. “Even if I was guilty, I wouldn’t confess it to someone I’d only known a few months. Heck, I wouldn’t tell anyone…except you.”

  He grinned. “Really? You’d tell me?”

  “Okay, probably not. Unless it was an accident or self-defense and I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Well, I’m flattered. Does that make me your ride-or-die bitch?”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “Whatever.”

  He laughed. “Now you’re reminding me of my daughters.”

  “Of whom John Healy thinks I am one,” she reminded him. “So…would you mind coming over to my apartment after work and disabling the listening device? I did an online search after John left, but I couldn’t find any instructions. Oddly enough, there’s not much about that sort of thing online. However, if you’d like to know how to disable a beeping or chirping smoke detector, I’m your gal.”

  “I’ll take care of it for you after work. It’s not that big a deal,” he said.

  “I ordered a device online that’s supposed to help me find hidden listening devices, but it won’t be delivered until Tuesday.” She paused. “What about my cell phone? Do you think the Sheriff’s Office is listening in on my calls too?”

  “If your home and workplace are bugged, then the Sheriff’s Office is absolutely intercepting your calls.”

  She emitted a growl of frustration. “I hate this! I didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m so paranoid about everything I say and do. I’m terrified I’ll do or say something that will…will…”

  “Be used against you in a court of law?” Ray finished.

  Katie nodded.

  “I understand. I’ve been there. Remember?” He opened his arms. “Could you use a hug?”

  Again, she nodded and stepped into his comforting embrace. Stepping back a moment later, she said, “Thanks. The hug was nice, but what I really need is a suspect.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Me, too.” She sighed. “I even thought I might have a halfway promising lead until Erikka’s sister blocked me on social media.”

  “What lead?”

  Before Katie could answer, another customer entered Wood U. She gave him a wave. “Don’t forget that Merchants Associations meeting this evening.”

  “What Merchants Associations meeting?” he called. “Today is Saturday.”

  She turned and glared at him. Like she was going to say, See you later when you come to disable the listening device!

  “Oh, yeah…yeah, I remember,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

  Once back at Artisans Alley, Katie sat at her desk and surveyed the tiny office. Everything looked the same, but she had to be missing something. There had to be a listening device somewhere in this room, too. The only thing she knew for certain, though, was that it was not disguised as a smoke detector. The closest one of those was located in the vendors’ lounge; and while she wasn’t sure what type of range these listening devices had, she guessed the Sheriff’s Office
would prefer to have one that was actually in her office where her conversations didn’t have to compete with those of dozens of other people throughout the day.

  Although she’d combed the office the day before, knowing there had been a device in her apartment gave her renewed purpose. She crawled beneath the desk and was looking up under it.

  A shout of “Yoo-hoo! Katie, are you in here?” made her rise up and smash her head against the bottom of the desk.

  “Ow! Yes! I’m here.”

  Moonbeam stuck her head around the desk to peep at her. “What are you doing under there? Are you hiding?”

  Rubbing her head, Katie said, “No…just looking for the pen I dropped. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but…well…it’s a really good pen.”

  “I sympathize. It’s hard to find your perfect writing implement, and when you do, you sure as heck don’t want anything happening to it.” She stepped back. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been told I have a thick skull.” She stood and ran her hands down the sides of her jeans. “What brings you by? Did you have questions about the Harvest Festival?”

  “No. I came by because I’m concerned about you,” Moonbeam said. “I did a tarot reading for you, and the cards revealed that you have a powerful enemy.”

  Yeah. Detective Schuler. Katie could have told her that.

  “Do you really think so?” Katie asked.

  “I’m sure of it. The person who killed Erikka Wiley is stalking you. You’re in the murderer’s sights. And this person is closer to you than you can imagine.”

  Reaching for a peppermint from the jar on her desk, Katie blew out a breath. “Could the cards be more specific?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Moonbeam’s bracelets jangled as she spread her hands. “Believe me, I tried.”

  “I hope I don’t sound disrespectful by asking, but is there any way you could simply conjure Erikka up and ask her what happened?”

  Moonbeam smiled sadly. “I wish I could, darling, but I’m not a medium. Even if you found a medium who could interact with Erikka, she might not know or be willing to name her killer.”

  “Why would she not be willing to name her killer?” Katie asked. “If I’d been murdered, I’d want someone to know it and give me some justice.”

  “Just like any living person might, she could have blocked the trauma and be unable to remember it.” She held up her hands for emphasis. “Hopefully, she’s in a place of peace now and doesn’t want to think about her death.”

  Katie nodded, although she wasn’t agreeing with Moonbeam. Of course, she hoped Erikka had found peace—but she’d love for the dead woman to be able to point the finger at her killer, help someone find the necessary evidence, and put the killer behind bars for the rest of his or her life.

  Since issuing her warning, Moonbeam seemed to feel that she’d done her duty and decided to ask about a hundred questions about the upcoming Harvest Festival celebration. Were the vendors supportive of each other? Could she bring soap cubes and tea bags to share with the vendors to see if they might enjoy visiting her shop? Should she bring her tarot cards and offer to do free readings?

  Katie told her she should probably leave the tarot cards at The Flower Girl the first time she met some of her fellow vendors. She could vividly imagine Nona having a conniption fit right there in the midst of the event.

  Once Moonbeam had gone and Katie was alone with her thoughts, she remembered the photograph she’d glimpsed on Erryn’s computer screen before being blocked. Was she grasping at straws, or had there been something familiar about the man in the background?

  She sighed, took another peppermint and then leaned back in her chair, unwrapping the cellophane wrapper. What did she really know about Erikka’s killer? Absolutely nothing. She couldn’t account for anyone’s whereabouts on that fateful night except her own. Where had Andy been? And what about Matt Brady? Was he telling the truth about not caring who else Erikka was involved with? Was Ray right about John Healy being used by the police to lull her into trusting him enough to confess? And why was Ray so quick to take Erikka’s ring and hide it? Was there something else he was hiding?

  Katie knew she was being paranoid, but right now, the only person she was certain she could trust was herself.

  Chapter 22

  Exhaustion pulled at every muscle in Katie’s body as she finally climbed the stairs to her new apartment that evening. She decided to curl up on the love seat for a moment after feeding the cats. She didn’t want a repeat of the previous night, but she knew she’d be awakened when Ray came to disable the listening device. And she could certainly use a quick nap before he arrived.

  Unfortunately, she was thinking of Moonbeam’s warning when she dozed off, and her nap was plagued by images of herself in various hunters’ gunsights: Andy, Schuler, Erryn, Brady, Healy, Ray, and even Moonbeam herself. Katie’s heart was thudding so loudly in her nightmare that it was all she could hear.

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  “Katie! Hey! You home?”

  Shaking off the fog and becoming fully awake, Katie realized it wasn’t actually her heart she heard but Ray pounding on the door.

  She stood, smoothed her hair, and opened the door to greet him. “Sorry,” she said, pulling the door wide, “I didn’t hear you at first.”

  “What I can’t understand is why you didn’t get John Healy to put a doorbell in this place,” he grumbled.

  “I didn’t expect to have many visitors.”

  Ray frowned. “Didn’t expect any or didn’t want any?”

  Ignoring his question, she led him into her galley kitchen. “Here you go. Do you think you can take care of it?”

  “Sure. Leaky faucets aren’t a big deal…although you should’ve had Healy take care of that, too.” The intense gaze he leveled at her let her know he was talking in code.

  “I know,” she said. “I just didn’t want to bother him again.”

  “Bother him? It’s his job.” Ray took a multi-tool knife from the front pocket of his jeans and sat down at the table in front of the smoke detector listening device. “But I’ll take care of this one.”

  Katie watched over his shoulder as Ray opened the device and inspected it before cutting a blue wire and a yellow wire.

  “That should do it,” he said.

  “So, we’re good?” Katie asked.

  Ray turned to face her, put a finger to his lips, and shook his head. “I wanted to ask you about Sasha’s birthday gift while I’m here.” At Katie’s frown, Ray nodded toward the now-disabled listening device. “I’m not sure it’s the only one…you know, that I should give her.”

  “Oh, I see.” He was telling her there might be another device. “Well, you should definitely look around some more and see what else you might find.”

  Returning the blade to the case and pulling out a screwdriver implement from the knife, Ray stooped down and removed a vent.

  “I did that,” Katie said. Catching herself, she said, “I looked high and low when I was searching for a gift for Rose.”

  “Some places are worth returning to—especially when they’ve had an opportunity to restock.” He replaced the vent and stood.

  Katie understood that he was referring to his suspicions about Healy that he’d expressed earlier in Wood U. Ray obviously thought Healy might’ve shown her one device but replaced it with another one—or more. But why would Healy do that? Why would he work with the police to get her to confess or try to catch her saying something incriminating? In the movies, the only people who cooperate in police investigations are those who have something to gain—the justice-seeking family of the victim or the criminal who wants a plea deal. Of course, all they had to do was threaten to have his permits pulled and he might sacrifice one client to save working with half a dozen more. And, Katie had paid him in full.

  After looking around for a few minutes, Ray asked Katie for a drink of water.

  “Sure.” She reached into the cabinet above the s
ink and got him a glass.

  He turned on the water full blast, but he didn’t catch any in the glass.

  Frowning, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Drowning out the sound of our voices,” he whispered.

  “Why?” She glanced around the room. “Did you find something else?”

  “No, but I won’t feel a hundred percent comfortable talking about Erikka or the murder investigation in this apartment until your bug detector gets here.”

  “You were a cop for…forever. Don’t you have a bug detector?”

  Ray shook his head. “All of that kind of stuff belonged to the department. I could probably borrow one but not without raising eyebrows and alerting the department and, thus, Schuler—that we, namely you—are on to him watching everything you say or do.”

  “And that makes me look even more suspicious, even though all I’m trying to do is protect my privacy while helping to find out who killed Erikka Wiley. Besides, we just disabled the bug we did find.”

  Ray shut off the water.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that, and so does my water bill.”

  “I don’t know about that. Utility companies usually love it when you adopt a more-the-merrier mindset,” he responded with a smirk. “And did you notice there’s a great lake less than two miles away as deep as eight hundred feet in some parts?”

  “Well, I don’t want to use more than my fair share or run up my tab.” She hesitated for a moment before diving headfirst into the question that had been on her mind. “What did you do with the—?” She mouthed the word “ring.”

  Eyes widening, Ray turned on the water again. “The less you know about that, the better.”

  “Why did you take it? Why didn’t you instruct me to immediately turn it over to the police? After all, even if someone planted the thing, it’s ostensibly the reason the Sheriff’s Office obtained a search warrant and searched my residences and the office at Artisans Alley.” Katie warmed to her argument. “After all, you were a detective. Why would you volunteer to conceal evidence in a murder investigation?”