Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3

by Helen Gray

  Toni glanced at her watch. “I guess I’d better run. My boys are waiting for me.”

  Back in John’s room, she found him wearing a serious expression. “I heard your phone ringing across the hall, so I went over and answered it. Chief Freeman wants you to stop by and chat with him.”

  “I’ll swing by on my way home.”

  Gabe had his coat on, his trombone case clutched in his right hand. Garrett pulled the last chunk of Popsicle off its stick into his mouth, making him look like a chipmunk. He tossed the stick into the trash. “Um..um..um,” he mumbled, motioning that he was ready to go and grabbing his coat.

  “Do you have something to occupy yourselves with while I visit with the Chief?” she asked as they climbed into the van.

  “I could practice my trombone,” Gabe said with an impish grin.

  Toni raised her brows and made a fake swipe at him.

  “I have something to read,” Garrett said. “Or the deputies might talk to us.”

  Buck Freeman was in the front office when Toni entered and parked the boys in their usual chairs near the door. “Glad you could make it. Come inside my office and have a seat.”

  She followed him and took the chair near his desk.

  He met her curious look and got right to the point. “I’ve decided you might be helpful to me. Sometimes a person outside law enforcement can add a fresh perspective. Overall, you’ve been a pretty good sounding board, and your role at the school is especially helpful in this case. I’d like to hear a little more of your thoughts.”

  Toni gave him a wide-eyed look. “That’s high praise. I’m flattered.”

  “First, let’s talk about your bookkeeper and her alibi,” Buck began in his gruff, no-nonsense manner. “We found an attendant at the gas station who knows her personally, and he remembers seeing her put gas in her car the evening Marsha was killed. He says he remembers the date because he’s a student, and he had gotten out of school early that day for Christmas break. The other reason he says he remembers it is because Dana seemed so upset. He said she looked pretty chewed up—his words, not mine—like maybe she had been in a fight or something. Said her face was red and swollen on one side like she’d been hit, and she was crying.”

  Toni nodded. “I guess that means she didn’t do it.”

  “I don’t think she did,” the chief agreed. “But she’s still on the hook for embezzlement.”

  If Dana had been the killer, it would have been a relief to have the matter settled. But Toni had to admit that, deep down in her gut, she couldn’t fathom poor Dana committing such a violent act. Not only was she physically small, but she didn’t have an explosiveness about her.

  Buck continued speaking. “I’m ready to admit that you might be onto something with the Guthrie boy. I did some refresher reading on the warning signs of teenage suicide, and then I started checking on the kid’s activities prior to his death. The Guthries say he didn’t seem upset to them. In fact, they say it was more like he had been on a high lately. I went through that list of suicide warning signs with them, and they denied every one. According to them, nothing really bad had happened, and they aren’t aware of any major quarrels between Dustin and anyone.”

  “There was the spat with Sidney,” Toni pointed out. “But she’s truly broken up over his death and even blaming herself. I don’t think she had anything to do with it.”

  “Dustin hadn’t been giving away his favorite possessions,” the chief said. “Dennis showed me his room and said that nothing was missing. His wife even showed me a stack of movies that he bought just recently. They both said Dustin wanted to buy a jeep.”

  Toni nodded. “That checks with what Coach Hopper told me today. We’ve already established that his Saturday morning hunting trip was not unusual. I think there’s a killer out there.”

  The chief looked troubled. “You might be right.”

  “One or two killers?”

  His expression clouded even more. “The big question is Dustin’s whereabouts on the night Marsha was killed. If he didn’t kill her, my guess is that there’s only one killer. Whoever killed Marsha killed Dustin to shut him up, at the same time putting the blame for her death on him to get us to stop looking.”

  “There’s something else you might check,” Toni said uneasily.

  Buck’s eyes rolled upward. “What have you done now?”

  “John Zachary and I went to see Janet Rayford, and she pretty much threw us out.”

  His eyes drilled her, unblinking.

  “I was trying to make a connection between the two murders,” Toni explained defensively. “It occurred to me that Marsha’s involvement with Jack Rayford, and Dustin’s with Sidney Rayford, might somehow be a connector. I hoped to find out where Janet was during the times of the murders and the attack on my son.”

  Buck’s head bobbed in understanding. “I’ll put someone on it.”

  “Janet said she was home talking to Jack Saturday morning. She said he wanted to try to patch things up and get back together, but that he probably won’t give her an alibi because she turned him down.”

  “That would be a petty motive for lying. We’ll have to find out.”

  “Good.”

  “Okay, I guess that’s it,” the chief said. “Unless there’s something else on your mind. You have that look on your face.”

  “I’ve been putting some thought into how a murder could have been staged as a suicide.”

  Interest flashed across his face. “Have you come up with a scenario?”

  “I think so. I tried to imagine that I wanted to commit such an act and figured out how I would go about it.”

  He grinned at that.

  “Dustin could have been shot, and then the killer could have put his hand on the trigger and fired a second shot,” she theorized, envisioning it in her mind. “The gun would have been wiped off after the first shot, and only one of the shell casings left behind.”

  “An interesting theory,” the chief allowed. “Almost makes sense.”

  “I know that rifles aren’t as likely as small guns to test for residue on hands, and that collecting evidence as soon as possible is important, which are problems in this case,” Toni continued. “But I’m hoping your tests were good.”

  He shrugged. “The results weren’t great, but we took pictures of what we got. The one thing that’s in our favor is that it didn’t look like anything had been disturbed at the scene. The best pictures are of the clothing. Nothing out of order was noted.”

  “I’d like to know if Dustin’s prints were on the forearm of the gun.”

  He stared at her, his expression thoughtful. “No prints there would mean that he could not have fired the gun?”

  Toni nodded. “He would have had to touch more than just the trigger to anchor it in position and fire it.”

  He made a note. “I suppose it’s worth checking.”

  “May I see the pictures and the actual report? I’d also like to see the file on Marsha if I may.”

  Buck made another note, grinning this time. “As you may know, we have our autopsies done in Farmington. We haven’t gotten Dustin’s body and paperwork back yet, but they’re supposed to be here in the morning. I’ll visit with you again after I get them. Anything else?”

  “No, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know,” she said with an impertinent wrinkle of her nose. She picked up her purse to leave.

  “One more thing,” Buck said before she could walk away. “I talked to all three of your administrators, and they agreed to schedule a special faculty meeting tomorrow after school. I want to lay out some facts to the staff and see if we can find any help there.”

  “Good idea.”

  As soon as she got home, Toni called her parents and arranged for them to pick up the boys from school the next day. John and Jenny would have to attend the faculty meeting.

  Chapter 15

  Toni, Jenny and John entered the cafeteria together and sat at a table in the second row for the
faculty meeting. The three principals, the chief of police, and the resource officer stood facing them from behind a table at the front of the room.

  Buck Freeman walked around the table to them and leaned down to speak softly to Toni. “The medical examiner rechecked that autopsy report. He says the evidence and pictures aren’t the best. The index finger that pulled the trigger was completely clean on top, but it probably means nothing.”

  Her fists clenched. “It may not be good enough for proof, but it’s significant to me.”

  “He also took another look at Marsha’s autopsy report, but he didn’t find anything new.”

  “We’ve got a second murder,” Toni muttered in fury as the chief walked away, but low enough that only John and Jenny heard her.

  Toni constrained the anger boiling inside her and studied the room. Members of the board, with Dennis Guthrie significantly absent, sat at a table to themselves. The secretary, counselor, and technology director sat at a table to the right of them.

  Darren Brown, the industrial arts teacher, entered the room with Lisa Baker and Jordan Hopper. Darren’s jeans still showed traces of sawdust and splotches of varnish from the shop. Jordan and Lisa wore their customary gym shoes and sweats. Jordan’s dark crew cut was a sharp contrast to Lisa’s ash blonde ponytail and Darren’s light brown hair.

  Ryan Prewitt introduced Chief Freeman, and Buck took his place at the podium.

  “What I want to do this afternoon is lay out some facts for you,” the chief began.

  Loretta Mullins came bustling through the door, late as usual, and took the only vacant seat near the front.

  She’s probably pleased that this meeting isn’t being held in her precious inner sanctum, Toni thought uncharitably. A sudden vision of short, plump Loretta trying to kill someone caused Toni’s mouth to twitch.

  She banished that thought and studied her colleagues, wrestling with the grim thought that someone in their midst could be a killer, and that he or she could strike again if threatened. Her insides quivered.

  “We know that people are far more likely to be killed by those closest and dearest to them than by strangers, colleagues, or mere acquaintances,” Buck continued. “We’re reasonably sure that the person who killed Mrs. Carter is right handed. That person is also strong enough—or highly motivated enough—to have moved the body from the primary crime scene to the site where it was found. The weapon was a large blunt object.”

  Around the room of grim faces, heads nodded. And hands jotted notes.

  “We think that person is intimately familiar with the school and its personnel, a belief that is reinforced by the fact that an attempted hit and run was made on someone after a school event.”

  “What attempt was that?” came from the rear of the room.

  The chief outlined how a car had charged at Toni and Garrett Donovan. He didn’t state a reason for the attack, allowing the impression that the intent had been to harm Toni. She breathed easier when he left it that way.

  “Then there was the shooting attack on Mrs. Donovan,” he continued. “We think that has to be related. In addition to those incidents, we’re looking into the question of whether the death of Dustin Guthrie was a suicide or something more sinister.”

  That revelation elicited gasps of shock.

  Buck made a few more remarks before turning the meeting back over to Ryan, who announced that there would be visitation with the Guthrie family at the funeral home Friday evening, and that the funeral would be at two o’clock Saturday afternoon.

  After a brief question and answer session, Ryan concluded the meeting. “If anyone knows anything that you even suspect might be helpful, please give the police a call.”

  As the room began to empty, Jordan Hopper paused next to Toni. “Sorry I wasn’t more helpful yesterday. Got boys running drills in the gym. Better get out there.”

  “Say, Lisa,” Toni called as she and Darren started to follow Jordan. “I came by the gym to see you yesterday, but Jordan said you had left for a dental appointment. Would you have time to chat in the morning if I come in early?”

  Lisa glanced around, impatience etched on her face. “I’ll be in the gym by seven-thirty.”

  “How’s your hand? Did that cut heal up all right?” Lisa had brought the student council a new jar of pickles the week after the broken jar incident.

  Lisa gave a shrug that indicated it was of no importance. “I pulled it open a couple of times. That’s what I get for playing ball with the kids.”

  “Did you get the stitches out?”

  She flexed the hand that still sported a band-aid. “Last week. See you tomorrow.”

  On her way home, Toni experienced a sense of running in circles and getting nowhere. Panic was growing inside her. If the killer was not found, there might be more deaths. But the murderer’s identity seemed more elusive than ever.

  The next morning she found Lisa Baker in the gym watching a group of students shoot baskets. Toni kept to the perimeter of the floor. Street shoes were forbidden on it, and her peach pumps that matched her blouse and cinnamon colored suit slipped on the glossy surface.

  Suddenly a basketball flew across the floor and hit her in the thigh, knocking her off balance. Toni flashed a hand up against the wall and struggled to stay upright.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Donovan,” a boy called across the gym.

  Lisa rushed to Toni’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked huskily, a basketball clutched in her hands. Her ash blonde ponytail swung behind her.

  “I’m fine.” Toni steadied herself and looked up. The boy who had let the ball get away from him stood a few feet away, staring at her in concern.

  Toni gave him a wave. “I’m fine, Mike. Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.”

  “Thanks for being a good sport,” Lisa said softly. “Go on into my office and have a seat. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Lisa’s office, next door to Jordan’s, was a bit smaller, but furnished identically. Her shelves were fuller than his, and her desk was cluttered with a music player, a stack of CD’s, an oversized desk calendar, and other assorted debris.

  Toni had just gotten seated when Lisa came rushing through the door. She went behind her desk and plopped down. “Friday mornings are open gym before classes. Someone else is on duty today, but I like to keep an eye on things.”

  “I stopped by and talked to Jordan yesterday,” Toni explained. “We discussed Dustin and his recent behavior. I had hoped to do the same with you.”

  Lisa’s countenance became grave. “All this has been a terrible shock. The kids have been upset, especially those involved in the athletic programs.”

  “Dustin and Sidney were both athletes.”

  “Sure.” She nodded and brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “Dustin played basketball, and Sidney cheered, so they spent a lot of time around the gym. They were both teacher aides, as well.”

  “What can you tell me about Dustin’s behavior? Did you notice any personality changes or hear him making complaints recently?”

  Lisa shook her head, a hand fisted over her pursed mouth. “Nothing unusual that I can think of. Of course, I didn’t have him in class. He was Jordan’s aide and in his Team Sports class, so Jordan spent more time with him than I did.”

  “So they were close.”

  Lisa shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “Did Dustin seem depressed or upset recently? Had he had any serious arguments that you know about?”

  Lisa stared at Toni, her brows knitting. “There were a couple of arguments, but nothing major.”

  “I know about his little upset with Sidney over a broken date, and the fact that he wanted to buy a jeep and his parents didn’t approve. Is there anything else?”

  “Well,” she said slowly, as if judging whether to share something. But then she did. “One day last week in ball practice he and another boy got into some horseplay, and they ended up yelling and rolling around on the floor. Jordan stepped in and sent both boys to the show
ers.”

  Was Jordan hot tempered? Toni didn’t remember him as anything but friendly and laid back—and competitive, a necessity for coaching.

  “Do you have any idea where Dustin spent his time or what he did just prior to his death? We’re trying to determine who was the last person to see him alive.”

  Lisa leaned forward on the desk and gave her ponytail a flip behind her. “I have no idea what the kid did or where he went after practice Friday afternoon. I remember seeing him leave when the other guys did. Sorry I can’t be more help to you.”

  Her words seemed friendly enough, but Toni sensed an underlying reserve, or insincerity. “Sidney’s convinced he didn’t take his own life,” she said evenly. “I don’t know what happened, but my gut says she might be right.”

  “Is your gut what convinced Police Chief Freeman it wasn’t a suicide?” Lisa asked, her eyes cool and assessing.

  Toni got the feeling that Lisa didn’t think much of her questions—or her personally. “I told him how Sidney feels. He reached his own conclusion. Maybe I’m paranoid, but it doesn’t feel like a suicide.”

  Lisa tipped her head, frowning. “How does a suicide feel?”

  Toni ignored the question that smacked of sarcasm. “Maybe it really was a suicide. Maybe it wasn’t. If it was, there has to be a reason. I want to know why. If it wasn’t, I want to see justice served. His family deserves to know the truth.”

  “I guess I see your point,” Lisa conceded. Her mouth moved, as if to say more, but then stilled.

  “Thanks for your time. I have to run.”

  Back in her room Toni laid out supplies for her first class. Then she dashed across the hall to John’s room. “Why don’t you and Jenny come to my house for supper? We can go to the funeral visitation together and drop the boys at my folks on the way.”

  “I’ll call Jenny and get back to you.”

  When she peeked inside his door during third hour, John gave her a brief thumbs-up and went on with his lecture. She called Kyle and told him they would be having company.