I’m going shopping. That’s all she said Crystal. I’m going shopping.
Do you know where she was headed when she killed Lisa Filipowitz? She was shopping for new sheets for one of the many beds we don’t sleep in.
Gloria used to be a wonderful person. Did you know she’s a cousin to your boss, Ben Franzen? He can tell you how wonderful she was.
But she had a drink first thing this morning when we got up; and then was holding one in her hand when she said she was going shopping; so I shot her. Simple as that.
I’m not without a conscience, Crystal. That’s why I had Scott hold off on fixing the car; so she wouldn’t be tempted to drive. But someone got her license number and the police were at our door. It all happened so fast; our lawyer had her in treatment before I knew it and her license was suspended but she insisted on going shopping this morning! I was disappointed.
Crystal, I fell in love with Gloria when we were thirteen years old; I can’t really live without her. I miss her already even though she’s lying on the floor right beside me.
Yours truly, No Longer Pondering Poison.
P.S. I’m signing my name, so my lazy bum of a Son, Jason Henderson Fielding, can inherit everything.
Sincerely, Winston Henderson Fielding.
“Are you still there Crystal?” Byron asked. “What should I do with this letter?”
Crystal wanted a copy of that letter; but she knew what the right thing to do was.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m here Byron. You should give that letter to the police right now, but could you photocopy it for me first?”
“Sure Crystal. What do I do now?”
“Byron; you’ll be employed for quite some time; I won’t worry about that. They’ll need you to help tidy things up.”
“No Crystal; what do I do right now? The police said I could go home; but I’m too overwhelmed. And what are they going to do when they found out I held back this letter?”
“Just tell them you picked it up and just forgot until now to give it to them.”
“Good; I’ll do that.”
Crystal could hear Byron talking to the police, and then he came back on the line.
“They weren’t amused, but said they understood. I copied it though, before I, um, even read it to you.”
“That’s fine Byron. Why don’t you go down to the Harrogate News and ask for Ben and give him the copy. I’ll meet you there in a little bit.”
“Thanks Crystal. Do I sign off with the Mrs. Prescott code?”
“No Byron; we won’t be using codes anymore.”
Crystal hung up the phone and turned to her mom. “I think Matt’s going to be working overtime tonight as well. Mom, you and Duffy are coming with me. I’m going to need all the support I can get to finish writing this story.”
Joanne nodded. “That way I’m going to finally get the whole story. Plus, I was a pretty fast typist at school; maybe I can help out with that.”
Crystal smiled but was concerned. A little voice was ricocheting around in her head; I’m not responsible am I for the murder-suicide?
Duffy had finished eating and looked up at the two women and meowed so plaintively, that Crystal immediately picked him up and placed him around her neck like a collar. “You little munchkin; how would you like to come to work with me?” She picked up the litter box as well with her other hand and headed out the door with her mom.
***
When the two Schmidt women walked in the Harrogate News, Matt ran over and hugged Joanne. He looked at Crystal with the little cat around her neck and watched as she put the litter box down by the front door.
“Thank God you’re here Crystal! You’ve heard about the Fieldings, I presume?” When Crystal nodded, he continued, “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Ben is talking about doing a special issue; but first we have to get all pieces of this puzzle together. Did you manage to write anything yet this morning?”
Crystal handed him six pages of handwritten notes, tightly spaced.
Matt quickly flipped through the pages. “Excellent; probably two thousand words here.” He looked closely at Crystal. “You did all this with a hangover? Good job.” He turned around and handed the pages to Marjorie, who had extra bags under her eyes.
“Can I get you a coffee Marjorie?” Crystal asked.
“That would be awesome hon. What’s that fleabag doing around your neck?”
“This is my therapy cat, Duffy.”
“Whatever you say hon, but I think you just made that up.”
Matt started to issue orders. “Crystal, you sit down at your desk and keep writing. I want everything; all your theories, everything. Ben and I decided we wanted a human interest piece not a merely factual piece. I want to know how you felt, the rage the anger, you name it.”
Crystal nodded again. She had delivered the coffee to Marjorie and then sat down at her desk; ready to work. It was surprising how calm she felt with the little cat purring in her ear.
“Now Joanne, I need you to…sweetheart; is it okay if I put you to work?”
“Sure Matt; that’s why I’m here!”
“Great. So can you empty Crystal’s knapsack and set up a filing system for her advice column? See if she has any other notes that pertain to the Fieldings as well. And how are you as a photographer? I need photos of the letters Winston Fielding wrote to ‘A Bit of Advice From Betty’ and the one to Crystal; I’ll get them from Ben for you.”
Crystal cleared her throat. “There is another one you’ll want a photograph of. Hasn’t Byron Hansen come in yet?”
Matt was reading over Marjorie’s shoulder. “Who’s that?” he said distractedly.
“The Fieldings Executive Assistant; he photocopied the suicide note for me; the uh, suicide note that was addressed to me.”
All activity stopped. In fact Joanne stopped breathing for a few seconds.
Marjorie slapped her thigh. “Crystal, you sure have a knack for being in the right place at the right time; and knowing the right people! How do you do it?”
When Matt was able to speak he said, “Don’t tell us how you did it; write, please write how you did it!” Matt looked around. “And where the hell is Ben? He said he was stepping out for a few minutes and that was over an hour ago!”
Ben, Byron and a policeman walked in the door. Ben crooked his finger at Crystal and all four of them went into his office.
Joanne looked at Matt. “What happened to my quiet little daughter who was too anxious to get out of her home most days? You turned her into this go-getter investigator who gets involved in murders!” she said, half-joking.
“Joanne, my love, do you want the old Crystal back?”
Joanne looked sadly at Ben’s office. “No; but I think I’m going to miss her.”
Without looking up from her typing, Marjorie added, “Just to add my two cents worth; you probably don’t want her incarcerated either. I’m sure the RCMP are curious about her connection to the Fieldings, especially since the suicide note was addressed to her.”
Joanne kept herself busy filing the letters Crystal had thrown haphazardly into her knapsack. She filed them chronologically, then made up a master alphabetical list of the aliases used. Joanne then went through the desk drawers searching for any random notes. When she found the file labelled ‘fan mail’ and read the letter from Donna McLaughlin, she smiled. Her girl had a fan. How delightful.
“Now where do I know that name from?” Joanne murmured. She snapped her fingers. It was one of the women who had signed up for the charity bike ride. Well I’m not going to tell CeeCee, she decided, I’m going to let her have that happy discovery on her own when everyone gathers for training tomorrow.
Crystal finally emerged from Ben’s office with a small grin on her face. The little cat was still snuggled around her neck.
“Mom,” Crystal whispered as she put her arm around her mom’s waist. “I’m getting better and I think I’ve found out the secret why.”
“Firs
t, I know you’re probably not, but I just need to hear you say it…you’re not going to jail are you?”
“No Mom; of course not.”
“Okay; so what’s the secret? Keeping busy?”
“There’s that. But keeping busy thinking about other people and other people’s problems. Plus Duffy is helping immensely.” She reached up and patted the little tabby who purred even louder. “Once I finish writing the story about the conspiracy around Lisa’s death and the aftermath, Ben wants me to continue writing the advice column. You know what this means, Mom?”
“You can start paying me rent?”
Crystal looked off in the distance. “I hadn’t actually thought of that. I was thinking more along the lines of buying a camera and starting a new investigation.”
Her mom smirked. “Sure. Now I’ll be the one with the anxiety issues.” She saw her daughter’s face start to fall. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean that CeeCee. Now what investigation is next on your agenda that will take the whole of Harrogate by storm?”
“I’m going to investigate why Mrs. Prescott is putting plastic dinosaurs in her pies. I think that is the burning question of the day.”
About the Author
Shelley enjoys telling stories; it quite likely has a lot to do with the squirrels in her brain that are constantly running towards shiny things or prying away at hidden things to bring them to the light.
She often finds herself asking the question what if? What if I could invent a villain so compelling, that the reader almost; almost sympathizes with her? With him? What if I don’t limit myself to one genre but go ahead and tell the stories kicking around in my brain and in my heart?
Shelley has really enjoyed some of her varied careers; she then let all these experiences percolate and distill into the unique characters in her books.
She lives in a little trailer near a lake and finds inspiration in the compassion of others.
If you enjoyed this book, please write a review and tell your friends. Please visit her Author Central Page @ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07M5S55NQ to look for other books by Shelley Dawn Siddall.
Crystal Cinnamon Schmidt is in the right place at the right time, yet again, in volume two of this series, called “Caught! In the Act” due out January 10, 2020; available for pre-order now
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZMK72JM
Bury! The Lead Page 18