Staging is Murder

by Grace Topping

  Instead, the scene before me made me feel sick on every level. Now wedged in the corner of the kitchen near the breakfast area, my heart pounded as though a thunderstorm had startled me awake in the middle of the night.

  Dr. M was still coming at me, slipping occasionally, his hand reaching out to me. Blood streamed from his left pant leg, where his knee had come into contact with a shard from the broken jar.

  He was only inches from me now, his breathing raspy. I stumbled backward, hitting the wall. Something jabbed me painfully in the back. The besom I’d hung there. Grabbing it, I swung it at Dr. M as fiercely as though I were the last batter at the World Series, hitting him squarely on the side of his head. He wavered and then plummeted to the floor, hitting his head soundly on the stone tile. I stood over him in my best batter pose, ready to swing again, but it was clear he was out for the game.

  Thank you, Madam Zolta.

  Leaning over with my hands resting on my knees to support myself, my breathing became labored, and I could barely stand. With each deep breath, I became all too aware of the smell of garbage still clinging to my clothes.

  I also became aware of Nita and Doug standing in the doorway, a look of astonishment plastered on their faces. Detective Spangler stood right behind them.

  “Where were you five minutes ago?” I choked out before slipping onto the oily floor.

  Chapter 42

  A professional home stager can help prepare your home so it sells faster and for more money.

  “Have another piece of strawberry pie, Laura.” Mrs. Webster stood over me with a pie dish in one hand and a server in the other, poised to scoop out another slice. I inwardly groaned and let my belt out another notch, knowing Mrs. Webster wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was delighted to have Tyrone home again and was lavishing food on everyone.

  It was a happy band of people gathered in Mrs. Webster’s dining room to celebrate Tyrone’s release from jail. Nita and Guido sat next to Mrs. Webster, with Doug, Warren, and me at the other end of the table, flanking Tyrone. Kayla, who had continued to believe in Tyrone when lesser young women would have been scared away, sat next to him, under Mrs. Webster’s close scrutiny. Madam Zolta sat on her chair as though it were a throne. I especially requested that she be included.

  I studied Tyrone, who wore a wide grin and had been animated throughout dinner, anxious to hear everyone’s stories about the investigation. I wondered how deeply he had been scarred by his arrest and imprisonment. Time would tell. In the meantime, his other friends and I would be there to help him recover.

  “What I can’t understand is how Doug and Nita knew to go to the Denton house in the first place,” Tyrone said as he took another piece of pie from his grandmother.

  Mrs. Webster beamed at him in approval.

  “When Laura jumped up and left me at Vocaro’s with a message for Doug, I knew something was up.” Nita relished being the center of attention. “I also realized she must have cracked the case when she said it wasn’t Warren. To know it wasn’t him, she must have discovered who it was.”

  Warren flinched, but his good nature and manners prevailed. “Hey, Laura, how could you have suspected me? I’ll bet it was in revenge for not giving you a part in a production.”

  “Let Nita finish,” Tyrone interrupted. “I want to hear all the details.”

  Nita flashed Warren an impatient look. “When Doug came in, I gave him the message and told him Laura had rushed off to the Denton house. He asked me what made her leave, since they had planned to meet that morning. When I said she had acted strangely when Warren called Dr. M ‘Nick,’ Doug nearly jumped out of his chair as well.”

  “It fell into place almost right away,” Doug picked up the tale. “The night before, Laura showed me the faxed papers she’d found. Like Laura, hearing the name Nick in connection with Jack Malcolm helped me put two and two together. I wasn’t taking any chances and called Spangler to meet us at the Denton house.”

  “Doug insisted he was going up there, and I wouldn’t let him go without me,” Nita said. “Fortunately, Doug had a key, so we let ourselves in.”

  “I wish you could have gotten there sooner,” I said. “Then I wouldn’t have had to bash Dr. M in the head.”

  “How’s he doing, anyway?” Mrs. Webster didn’t show any real concern for his condition.

  “He’ll survive.” Nita shook her head as though trying to dispel the image of Dr. M in jail. “The gash on his knee was far worse than the bump on his head. He’s officially been charged with Victoria’s death.”

  “What I can’t understand is why he pushed Victoria down the laundry chute,” Tyrone said.

  “Detective Spangler explained why.” All eyes were on me. “Dr. M confessed he was so upset with her bleeding him financially, he struck her in anger, and when he realized what he had done, he dropped her down the chute—as though disposing of his problems. It was a whim.”

  “What confuses me was why Dr. M accused Cora of ramming into you.” Doug looked at me.

  “He said he saw Cora follow me out of the lot. Driving behind us, he saw what she was doing, which was when he got the idea of trying to scare me off.”

  “Why would he blame Cora?” Mrs. Webster circled the table with a pot of coffee in her hand. “He’s already in so much trouble, it won’t help him.”

  “Because it was Cora. Detective Spangler said Cora admitted to it. She was convinced I was at the auditorium questioning Warren about her because I’d witnessed her argument with Victoria. She was worried I suspected her of the crime. She knew she wasn’t guilty, but she wasn’t so sure about her husband, Norman. She thought Norman might have wanted to silence Victoria. When she followed me, she decided to frighten me so I would stop questioning people.”

  “You risked a lot to help me, Laura.” Tyrone beamed at me.

  “I’m relieved it’s over and you’re finally free.” I put down my cup in time to feel Mrs. Webster’s warm embrace.

  “I knew you could do it, girl. The Lord guided me to you, and you didn’t let us down.”

  I choked back my emotions. I hadn’t thought I could do it, but now it was over, I was more amazed than anyone that I had, in fact, found the killer. Maybe, as Mrs. Webster had promised, the Lord had given me all the help I needed.

  “Gran is right.” Tyrone shook his head. “For a while, I believed I was a goner. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be designing sets for the Penitentiary Players. I can’t thank you enough, Laura.”

  “Speaking of thanks, I’d like to thank Madam Zolta not only for sweeping the Denton house of negativity but also for helping to save my life. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have had the besom I used to defend myself.”

  Madam Zolta sat, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you, my dear. That’s kind of you to say. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was Dr. Malcolm’s energies next door I was sensing.”

  Mrs. Webster rolled her eyes. So that’s where Tyrone got it. I smiled at her and whispered, “Remember, ‘the Lord sends us helpers to overcome our difficulties.’”

  Mrs. Webster nodded in agreement and smiled.

  “I’ve made one decision as a result of all this.” All eyes stared at me with curiosity. “I’m not waiting until I can afford it. I’m getting a new cell phone now.”

  My friends laughed.

  “It’s about time,” Guido said.

  “With this check from Skip Denton for the final payment on the staging, you can well afford it.” Doug handed me a check. I was astounded at the amount, which was far more than Skip and I had agreed to.

  Doug held up his glass. “I’d like to raise a glass and toast Laura Bishop, who helped sell the Denton house. We received an excellent offer on the house, far more than we ever expected. Thanks to Laura, the staging more than paid for itself. Thank you.”

  The group broke out in cheers and clicked glasses
.

  “You mean it sold already?” I was astonished and quite pleased. The wicked side of me couldn’t wait to hear how Monica would react to the news that my staging had been so successful.

  Doug continued. “A couple from Pittsburgh fell in love with it and are buying it, furniture and all. They intend to turn it into a bed and breakfast.”

  “That’s terrific. It would make the perfect B&B.” I waved the check and whispered to Tyrone. “We have money.”

  “That’s your money, Laura. I wasn’t there to do the job.” He spoke so softly only I could hear him. Again, I wondered about those scars.

  “Nonsense. You worked hard on the house, and I completed the work based on your designs, so we both benefit. I’m sorry we weren’t able to solve the crime before the Quincy Scholarship committee made its decision.”

  “There’s always next year.” Tyrone was ever the optimist.

  The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Webster disappeared to answer it. I heard voices coming from the front door but was too busy talking to pay much attention to them.

  Mrs. Webster stood in the doorway. “Laura, there’s someone here to see you.”

  Curious, I looked up and my jaw dropped. Detective Spangler stood there, supporting a tired-looking, but very much alive, Will Parker.

  “What? But they said you were dead.”

  “You can’t hold a good man down.” Will sank gratefully into the chair Tyrone brought for him. “Detective Spangler here came up with the idea to say I was dead.”

  Everyone turned to Spangler. “Laura insisted Will was in danger. When someone attempted to kill him, again, we decided the best way to protect him was to let everyone think he was dead. We got his daughter’s permission and then spread the word at Vocaro’s, hoping it would get to the right ears. We didn’t want to make it too official by putting it in the papers. If it backfired on us, we could say it was a rumor.”

  “That dang car hit me from behind.” Will looked ready to tear someone’s head off. “When I finally come to, I wouldn’t have been able to identify the driver anyway.”

  All this time I thought I’d helped cause his death. Seeing Will alive, the guilt lifted from my shoulders. It truly was a happy day.

  Everyone started talking at once.

  Warren waved his hand to get everyone’s attention. “Since I’m no longer a murder suspect, can I say a few words?”

  “Of course.” I wagged my finger at Warren, still remembering the stunt he pulled in the library.

  “We’re very pleased to have Will back among the living. On another note, Tyrone, you’ll be happy to know the head of the Theater Arts Department at the college was greatly impressed with the sets you created for our production of Arsenic and Old Lace. So much so, he wants you to design the sets for their next production.”

  Tyrone let out a surprised breath before bursting into a broad grin. Mrs. Webster, standing behind him, squeezed his shoulders.

  “There’s more.” Warren said. “And this is the best part. The brother of the department head is a producer. When he comes into town to see the college productions, he brings along a lot of folks from Broadway.”

  “It seems this cloud has a silver lining.” Doug raised his glass in a toast.

  “Wow, it certainly does.” Tyrone looked as though he was still trying to get used to the idea he was now a free man, and one with a bright future.

  “The only unhappy person here today is Nita,” said Guido. “With Malcolm now in the clink, she no longer has a job.”

  “Oh yes, she does,” I said. “Staging for You is going to be quite busy now that we have a reputation, and I’m going to need a lot of help. Nita, are you game?”

  “Absolutely. But are all the houses we stage going to involve this much drama?”

  “That remains to be seen.” I rubbed my hands together. “That remains to be seen.”

  About the Author

  Grace Topping is a recovering technical writer, accustomed to writing lean, boring documents. Let loose to write fiction, she is now creating murder mysteries and killing off characters who remind her of some of the people she dealt with during her career. Fictional revenge is sweet. She’s using her experience helping friends stage their homes as inspiration for her Laura Bishop mystery series. Grace is the current vice president of the Chesapeake Chapter of Sisters in Crime, a member of the SinC Guppies, and Mystery Writers of America. She lives with her husband in Northern Virginia.

  The Laura Bishop Mystery Series

  by Grace Topping

  STAGING IS MURDER (#1)

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