by Pat Doyle
Danger in Daffodil
by Pat Doyle
DANGER IN DAFFODIL
Daffodil Cozy Mystery Series – Book 1
Copyright © 2019 Pat Doyle
All rights reserved.
Published by Pat Doyle 2019
Albuquerque, NM, USA
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental.
Author's website: patdoyle.com
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPILOGUE
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
When I went to pick up Michael at the movie theater, I was planning on an ordinary date with my boyfriend. We were going to see a rock concert, and we were both looking forward to it. It was an indie band that I hadn't heard of before. Michael was the real music lover. I was just going along for the fun of going on an outing out of town.
Michael was the manager at the Daffodil Theater. It was the only theater in our small, sleepy hometown of Daffodil, Wisconsin. It was a nice little theater for a town of our size. It had eight screens. People actually came from some of the neighboring towns to see movies there. But I wouldn't call it an exciting place.
That's why I was so surprised to see all the commotion when I got there. The sun had just set, and there were still red streaks in the sky. The parking lot was lit up with red and blue lights from the police cars. There were five police vehicles out there. Five -- I didn't even know our town had that many. Police officers were everywhere, directing traffic in the parking lot, walking here and there, going in and out of the theater. In fact, they didn't even want to let me drive into the parking lot. I explained that I was just there to pick up the manager, not to see a movie, so they grudgingly let me in.
None of the officers would tell me what was going on. They all brushed by me like they were on a mission. I couldn't imagine what had happened. Normally, everyone is so well-behaved at this theater. At most, some kids might act up a little. Nothing that would warrant this kind of police presence.
I went inside and saw the usual kids working at the concession stands. But instead of serving popcorn and soda, they were busy being interviewed by the cops. “Where's Michael?” I asked one of the kids who was waiting his turn to be questioned.
“Out back,” he said. He looked pale and scared. I wound my way down the deserted hallway toward the back entrance. Billy, the ticket taker, knew me, so he didn't question my presence. He wasn't collecting any tickets anyway. The police weren't letting any customers in. I guess he didn't feel that he could abandon his post, though.
When I got to the back door, I couldn't get out. Yellow police tape was blocking my way. On the other side of the tape, spotlights lit up the stoop and the patch of dirt outside the door. I saw Michael talking to a solemn-looking middle-aged guy who seemed to be in charge of things. I was so glad Michael was okay. He looked handsome, if very serious at the moment. His longish graying hair made him look distinguished. At just over six feet tall, he towered above the other guy. I didn't care that Michael was a little older than me. I liked it that way.
Michael spotted me right away. “Oh, it's you, Ginger,” he said. Michael wasn't very demonstrative at the best of times, and this was not the best of times, by a long stretch.
He turned back to the other man. "Do you still need me?" Michael asked him. "We were going to catch a concert in Madison. My assistant manager will be in charge if you need him."
"No, that's okay. Go ahead. Thanks for all your help,” the man answered. He seemed unconcerned as he turned back to face the area outside the door. What he was looking for, I don't know. He was just doing his job, I was sure.
Michael and I walked out to my car without talking. I was dying to know what was going on, but I knew better than to bombard Michael with questions while he was still at work. At work, he was all business and didn't like any interference.
We finally reached my little blue Honda Civic, and Michael and I got in. "What happened?" I asked, no longer able to contain myself. I started driving as I waited for his answer. God forbid we should be late for the concert. Michael would have a fit if we were late.
"A guy was murdered at the theater,” he finally answered.
"Murdered? Oh, no! How do you know he was murdered? Maybe it was just a heart attack or something."
"He had a steak knife from Ed's Steak House stuck in his back. I could tell by the big “E” stamped on the handle. Looked like murder to me."
"Oh my God! Where's the body?"
"The cops took it away. He was laying just outside the back door, cold dead. Happy now?" Michael was being sarcastic. I could tell he was rattled.
"Why should I be happy? Who was it, anyone I know?” I asked him.
"It was Dr. Parnell."
"Oh, no, that's my doctor! Why would anyone kill him? He's... he was... so nice. I really liked him."
"I don't know why. I don't want to talk about it any more. I can't believe it. Murder in my theater." Michael was silent for the rest of the drive to the concert, fiddling with my radio and turning it up loud.
We drove on out of Daffodil, and the road wound through the darkened fields. The moon was out and gave the countryside an eerie appearance. I was used to driving on country roads at night, though. I put on my brights, and rarely had to dim them for an approaching car.
I had plenty of time to think on the drive, since Michael wasn't talking. Murder. It was ironic, because I wanted to be a mystery writer. I never thought I would be this close to a real murder. I could learn a lot from this, I thought. Of course I was horrified that my doctor was dead, but maybe I could use this experience to help me with writing my novels.
Maybe I could even help find the killer. That's how they do it in the stories. Just ask around. You are bound to find out something. Could it be that easy? Or would I be putting myself in danger?
It was hard to think of danger in a small town like ours. How could someone from here be a killer? Was it just someone passing through? But then how did that person get a knife from Ed's? There was only one Ed's Steak House, and it was right in Daffodil. Right across the highway from the theater, in fact.
I knew that nighttime made things look different. Right now, taking it upon myself to investigate this murder sounded kind of exciting, but I wasn't sure how it would look to me in the bright light of day. I would have to give it some more thought. I kept thinking about it throughout the concert. Michael, of course, was totally lost in the music.
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning, I had to make a decision. Did I really want to investigate this murder? Shouldn't I leave it to the cops to figure out? Curiosity got the best of me. I wouldn't learn anything about murder if I stayed on the sidelines.
I wasn't working at the time. I had just quit my job as a secretary a few weeks ago. My Aunt Mildred had passed away and left me a good chunk of money. It wasn't enough to retire on for good, but it was enough to live on for a couple of years, if that's what I wanted to do with it.
I was sad about Aunt Mildred, but I didn't really know her that well. It was so nice of her to remember me in her will. She didn't have kids of her own, and I guess she knew I could use the money.
I had always wanted to be a writer, but working long hours for my demanding boss meant that I was too tired at night to start writing. I figured if I quit my job and lived off Aunt Mildred's money, I could get a book or two written before I had to go
back to work. It was worth it to me. I could finally fulfill my dream of being a mystery writer.
So this murder seemed almost meant to be. Oops, wait, how could I say that about poor Dr. Parnell? Was I a cruel person? I didn't mean to be cruel. But murders happen every day, right? Just not usually in little Daffodil, Wisconsin. Maybe the Universe was telling me to learn everything I could from this murder and use it in my book.
Besides, if I could help figure out who the killer was, I would be helping Dr. Parnell. At least helping bring his murderer to justice. I owed that to him. He was always so nice to me, and he was such a good doctor. I really would miss him.
I wondered where to start. Who would want to murder Dr. Parnell? I knew him as a patient, but I didn't have any information on who he even knew, let alone who his enemies might be.
I took a look in the mirror as I got dressed. My red, shoulder length hair was frizzy. More frizzy than usual. It probably needed a trim. I was already a little bit overweight, but frizzy hair made me look even heavier.
I put on some nice slacks and my favorite auburn sweater. The days were starting to get chilly. Fall was the best time of year in Wisconsin. The summer humidity was gone, and the days were crisp and cool, but not too cold yet. The leaves were turning colors, and they were gorgeous. People came up here from Chicago just to see the fall color. We got to see it every day.
Thinking about my frizzy hair made me think of Julie, my hair stylist. She was the one who had recommended Dr. Parnell to me. And Julie knew everyone in town, it seemed. Oh yeah, I thought, hair stylists are great for information. This was my first rule of detecting, I decided. I made an appointment to have Julie fix my hair right away this morning. Luckily she had a cancellation.
Julie was waiting for me at her chair in that darling little hair shop downtown. She has been cutting my hair for years. Even though she is a cute, stylish, young blonde, and I'm... um, a little older than her... we have a lot in common. We're both type A people. And we were both having troubles with our boyfriends. Usually we'd spend the time while Julie cut my hair discussing their respective faults. Boyfriends were not on my mind right now, though. I wanted to find out all about Dr. Parnell, and who would want to kill him. I sat in her chair and got right down to business, asking Julie to tell me whatever she could.
"Sorry, Ginger, I don't know who would want to kill Dr. Parnell," Julie said. "Well, let's see... the only person who hates him is his ex-wife, Tammy. They were always fighting about something. I don't know how they stayed together as long as they did. I wasn't surprised when they got divorced.”
“Hmm... could be,” I said. “Can you think of anyone else?”
“Oh, maybe his partner, Dr. Wright. He wasn't too happy with Dr. Parnell lately,” Julie said. “They were having some kind of disagreement about their partnership. I think Dr. Wright wanted to start his own practice and stop being partners with Dr. Parnell. But I can't picture him being a killer. Or Tammy either, really." Julie looked baffled. I didn't blame her. I'm sure no one could picture a murderer in little Daffodil.
I thought for a while. "Well, I have to start somewhere,” I finally said. “I think I'll go visit Tammy. Do you know where she lives?"
Julie gave me Tammy's address, and as soon as she was done with my hair, I was off. I decided I wasn't too worried about going to see Tammy. Even if she was the killer, she couldn't murder me right in her house, could she? Especially since Julie knew I was going there.
I admit I was a little scared. What was I getting myself into, getting mixed up in a murder investigation? But it was a beautiful sunny day outside, and I wasn't really doing anything risky, I thought. I was just going to talk to a few people and see what I found out.
Tammy's house was a well-cared-for little ranch with pretty flowers outside. Inside, it was decorated in what I call frou-frou. Lots of pictures of animals, curlicues, tassels, and tons of pillows. Tammy's long bleached blonde hair was perfectly styled, and she was wearing designer jeans and black stiletto heels.
"Come on in, honey,” she said. “What can I do for you?"
"I'm so sorry about your ex-husband."
"Oh, don't worry. Sit down. I won't miss him. We never got along anyway. I'm not going to pretend to be sad." She smiled and waved me into the living room.
I moved a couple of pillows and sat down. "But won't you be in trouble financially, now that you won't get alimony any more?"
"Oh, no. That's the great part. David never took me off his life insurance policy, and it was a big one. I'm rich now." Tammy was beaming. "Honey, I was poor until I met David Parnell. I was barely making it, working long hours at Ed's."
"You worked at Ed's Steak House?"
"Yeah, Ed really liked me. He was so sad when I quit, he gave me a set of steak knives."
Tammy nodded toward the kitchen, and I saw one of those butcher block knife holders on the counter. Five knives were sticking out of it, with Ed's trademark E branded on the handles. There was an empty space where the sixth knife should be.
Oh, no. One knife missing. And Tammy had a big motive, the life insurance. I was in a house alone with a probable murderer.
"Got to go. I just remembered an appointment." I bolted from my chair and ran out the door.
"But honey, I was just going to offer you some lunch," Tammy called after me.
"That's okay, maybe next time." I was halfway to my car and sprinted the rest of the way.
Inside my car with the doors locked, I suddenly felt ashamed of myself. Some detective I was, running away at the first hint of danger. "Keep your cool" should be my second rule of detecting. I gave myself a stern talking-to. If I was going to be a mystery writer, there was nothing better than experiencing an investigation first-hand. I wasn't going to give up at the first sign of trouble.
CHAPTER THREE
I decided it was time to interview my next suspect. From the address I had, Dr. Parnell's partner, Dr. Wright, lived on Spruce Street. His place was just a couple of blocks down from my ex-boyfriend Steve's duplex. Steve's parents were retired and lived in the lower flat of the duplex. Maybe I should stop by their place first and ask them if they knew anything about Dr. Wright.
The duplex looked a little run down. The front garden could have used some weeding, and the gray paint on the siding was peeling. I'm sure Steve could afford to get the place painted, but he was cheap. Too cheap to hire a gardener either, it looked like.
Violet, Steve's mom, greeted me at the door, and their little black dog danced around at our feet.
"Come on in, Ginger. Nice to see you again." Violet was a sweet, gray-haired lady. She always was so kind to me, even after Steve and I broke up.
Violet had decorated their place in a cozy country style. I always enjoyed the comfy feeling I got when I visited. Steve's dad, Kurt, grunted a greeting.
"Did you hear about the murder at the theater?" Violet asked me. "How horrible."
"Yes, Michael told me about it. Dr. Parnell's partner lives just down the street from you. Do you know him?"
"We see him once in a while, but he doesn't talk to us. Probably thinks he's too good for us, living in that fancy brick mansion."
"Do the neighbors say anything about him?"
"Not really. But let's talk about you." Violet smiled at me. "You know Steve misses you. He talks about you a lot. You two should go out to dinner sometime."
Violet was always trying to get me and Steve back together. Not in a million years. But I tried to be nice.
"I better not. I'm kind of busy right now."
I said my good-byes and walked down the street to Dr. Wright's house. Violet was right. It was a pretty imposing place, one of the bigger old homes in town. A dark Victorian two-story with a couple of cupolas on top, it was surrounded by a neat boxwood hedge. I rang the bell, but no one came to the door.
Maybe Dr. Wright had gone in to work after all, even though his partner was just killed. I decided to stop by his office next. It was in a modern medical building nex
t to the small hospital.
Dr. Wright was in the office. I saw him through the glass door. It looked like he was searching through some files. But the door was locked. I knocked hard on the glass a few times, and he finally unlocked the door.
"We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"
"Sorry, but I just want to ask you a question about Dr. Parnell."
"He's dead."
"I know. I'm so sorry. Please let me in for just a minute."
He grunted and opened the door a little bit. I squeezed by his large body and sat in one of the chairs by the desk. He frowned at me, and his bushy eyebrows intimidated me. I wasn't sure what to say.
"Why would someone kill Dr. Parnell?" I asked him.
"Why ask me? Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm Ginger Kelly. I'm a patient of Dr. Parnell. That is, I was..."
"None of his other patients saw fit to come in here and bother me. Are you ill?"
"No, I feel fine. I just want to find out who killed him."
"Leave that to the cops." His face contorted. He looked even more scary than before."There is no reason for you to butt in. You could get yourself hurt, you know."
Was he threatening me, or just concerned for my welfare? I decided to press on.
"Do you know anyone who hated Dr. Parnell?"
"No, and I'm tired of answering questions that don't concern you. Get out of this office and go home. I'm busy. I don't have time for this foolishness. Go on now." He stood up and opened the door.
I needed to leave before he bodily threw me out, or worse. I quickly slid out the door. I wasn't getting anywhere. How did real detectives find out anything? I obviously didn't know how to question anyone.
It was suspicious, though, that he got so mad at me. Maybe he was hiding something. I needed to find out if he had an alibi for the time of the murder. I didn't know if Tammy had an alibi either, come to think of it.
