"Huh," Amy said. "Hmmm."
"What is it?"
"I just remembered something," Amy replied. "This program, Big Brother." She jabbed the icon on the screen. "That's a surveillance program that one of the guys in my apartment building uses on his front door."
"You're kidding," Heather said.
Amy grimaced. "Not even a little bit. He's a colorful guy, to say the least. Spat on a cat the other day because it came too close to his mail cubby."
"He spat on a cat." Ryan shook his head. "All right, well cat spitting aside, what's that got to do with the case?"
"Okay so this guy, Louis," Amy said. "He showed me the program he's got for monitoring his front door. He installed the camera illegally by the way."
"Hold up a sec, the cat spitting dude just showed this to you?" Heather asked.
"Well, yeah. I'm the only one in the building who doesn't treat him like an outcast. Naturally, I'm reconsidering my position after the cat incident."
"Naturally."
"Anyway, so the one day I brought up a package a UPS guy delivered for him and Louis unwraps it right in front of me. It's a second camera. So I'm like, obviously you like cameras." Amy rolled her eyes. "And he shows me the program and where he saves the files. And it's not on his computer."
"What?"
"Yeah. He said that the computer isn't safe. Anyone can hack into it. He saves it on Big Brother's cloud drive. It's an automatic option you can tick to have all the files saved in the cloud and encrypted with a password so only you can access them." Amy shifted the mouse and clicked on the options button in the toolbar. "Look, the option is ticked."
"You're a genius," Heather said. Without Amy's uncanny knack to befriend people from every walk of life, high, low, in-between, and downright weird, they wouldn't have this information. "I love you."
"I'm afraid you've got competition. I'm still dating Jamie, remember?"
"So." Ryan strolled to the desk, clicking his ballpoint. "You're saying that the surveillance files are in this Big Brother cloud?"
"That's right. There's only one problem," Amy said. "They're bound to be encrypted and without a password, we won't be able to access them."
"All right, so we contact the company." Ryan grinned. "Easy. I'll throw my badge at them. Figuratively."
"Good luck," Amy said. "I got the impression from Louis that this Big Brother Company isn't exactly above board. They're super expensive and secretive. If you can get the password from them, you're a miracle worker."
"How do you know that?"
"Because all the folks in my building set up a petition to get the password and have the files erased. They made calls, they asked for help from the cops and I think the old lady in apartment B5 has contacts in the FBI. A grandson or something? Yeah, they couldn't get the information out of Big Brother." Amy shrugged. "They've got their legal stuff handled."
Ryan's triumph faltered.
Heather clapped her husband on the shoulder. "Hey, nobody said it would be easy."
"It never is," he grumbled.
"What do we have by way of suspects?" Heather asked.
"We've got one, currently, the man who works here with Norma. Pete Sampson," Ryan said and rifled through his notes again. "I've got his address here and he already gave Hoskins a statement."
Hoskins. Oh boy. "I think Ames and I will follow up on that."
"Great," Ryan said. "I'll head back to the station and work on these Big Brother guys. They can't resist the full weight of the law."
Heather didn't dash his hopes, but she quietly agreed with Amy. The company name brought George Orwell novels to mind, after all.
Chapter 4
Pete Sampson squished himself into the chair in front of Heather's desk but still peeled out of it over the arms. The chair creaked under his bulk. He wasn't fat, he was just plain huge. He made Roadkill Rodney an ant by comparison.
Heather prodded the plate of donuts on her desk calendar, moving them into the giant's reach. She couldn't help the flustered reaction. His irises were the hue of roasted chestnuts and his pupils bored right into her.
"Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Sampson." Heather sat still to keep from fidgeting. "My assistant will be in to take notes. Until then, please help yourself to the donuts."
"Thanks," Pete said and took one of the vanilla creams. He ate it in two giant bites. Not a drop of cream fell from his lips.
An image of a panda with cream on its lips came back to Heather but she couldn't place the memory.
"These are good." Pete took another donut. This one went down in one bite.
Good heavens.
The door to the office opened and Amy bustled in, whistling California Dreaming under her breath. She smiled at Heather, spotted Pete and almost fell over. "Good heavens," she said.
"Ames? Take a seat?"
Amy gulped. "Uh, seat. Yeah, sure." She groped for the handle behind her, missed, and settled for nudging the door shut with her heel. "The tablet?"
"It's over here," Heather said and lifted the device from the corner of her desk. Amy took it from her, then sat down in the smaller seat beside Heather's chair.
"Ready," Ames said, fingers poised above the touchscreen.
"Mr. Sampson, one again, thanks for agreeing to talk with me."
"Don't have much choice, do I? You're with the cops. If I don't help, it's called obstructing justice," Pete said.
She didn't bother correcting him. "Could you tell me a little more about your relationship with Norma? Were you close?"
"Close? Ha. Oh yeah, you could say that." Sampson's eyes crinkled at the corners - a joke only he understood. "Norma was my ex-girlfriend. I started working for her while we were dating but a couple months ago she tells me that it's over and that I can choose to stay or choose to leave but whatever happens I gotta keep it civil."
"And did you?"
"Of course," he said. "She was my boss and she was my friend for years before we dated. I liked Norma. She was a good person."
Amy typed at a furious rate. She'd made a couple errors but Heather didn't say anything - as long as they could review later she didn't care about the spelling. It was the text that mattered. That was what would lead them to the resolution of the case.
"So you worked in Norma's Beverages for years."
"That's right. We were turning a good profit too. Norma was generous with my paycheck. I had no reason to complain." He spoke quick for such a big guy. Heather had expected his voice to come out slow as molasses on a snow cone.
"And did you work on Monday evening?" Heather asked.
"Nope." Kneejerk reaction.
"All right. What about Monday afternoon?"
"Yep."
"And did you notice anything suspicious at the store? Anyone hanging around?"
"You mean apart from Norma's new boyfriend?" The big guy snorted. "No. There wasn't anything strange going on."
Had there been a hint of bitterness in Pete's tone at the mention of Rodney? Amy continued typing away and Heather spied the word's 'salty over new man in picture.'
"Mr. Sampson, do you know why Norma worked late on Monday? Did she usually hang around after hours?"
"Norma? Heck no. She wasn't that kind of boss. She made sure we got out of there timely every day. She used to say that everything that happened after hours could happen at home. She'd take the books home or the files and bring them back the next day. Not once did she stay late."
Then why had she chosen Monday to stay behind? "I see. So you can't think of a reason she'd hang around?"
"Shoot no," he said. "Unless it had to do with that delivery she was expecting."
"The register."
"I don't know what it was. All I know is she expected a delivery that afternoon and seemed really excited about it. Kept telling me that the store was taking a step in the right direction. That we didn't have a good anesthetic," he said.
"Anesthetic?" Heather pursed her lip. Mental images of syringes appeared.
<
br /> "Yeah, you know, the atmosphere. The Ambien."
"Ambience."
"That's it," Pete said. "I don't know. I'm not good with words. Anyway, so I left after that and figured I'd come back to work the next morning to see the new Ambien. Only that didn't happen." Pete shrugged. "Because she's dead and all."
Heather interlaced her fingers and rested her wrists on her paper calendar. "Mr. Sampson, where were you on Monday evening at around 11 pm?"
"Sleeping, of course. Like any regular person. I keep good hours. If I don't sleep early, I don't wake up for work on time. Norma wasn't mean but being late for work could bring out that side in her. After all, if she could make it on time, why couldn't I?" Norma had driven her sayings into Pete's brain. The guy had spewed two of them already.
"Was there anyone there with you?"
"Nope."
"And there's no way you can confirm that alibi?"
"Nope."
"Did you have a passcode to the Big Brother cloud?" Heather asked. Amy stiffened, shifting forward in her seat.
Pete pushed his lips out, drew them back against his teeth and sucked. "What's Big Brother?"
"Never mind," Heather said. "It's not important." Though, of course, it was. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sampson."
"No problemo. Say, could I get a couple of these donuts to go? They're good." Pete winched himself out of the chair and it squealed a complaint. "I got my wallet in my back pocket." He rocked back and forth to free himself.
"That's all right," Heather said and raised her palm. "It's on the house."
Chapter 5
The rest of the morning passed without incident. They'd managed to remove Pete Sampson from the chair without breaking either of the parties involved, and Heather kept herself busy going over the notes and checking in on deliveries across the United States.
After the first successful delivery of her donuts to North Carolina and then to Arkansas and Louisiana, she'd finally relaxed about the whole refrigerated truck over long distances thing. There hadn't been a negative review about the quality of the donuts yet, though a couple customers had griped about outdated Donut Delights packaging.
A few locals had mentioned the golden floor boards and how cheesy they looked. That hurt like a knife to the back.
"Knock, knock," Amy said, without knocking. She strolled into the office carrying a tray bedecked with donuts and two coffee cups.
"I hope those are double cappuccinos. I could use one after this morning."
"We are one mind." Amy placed the tray in the center of the desk, then rounded it and sat down beside Heather instead of across from her. "I don't trust that Sampson's chair won't collapse."
"Sampson," Heather said. "I can't help thinking of Samson and Delilah."
"He did have short hair." Amy lifted her double cappuccino and took a long drink. She smacked her lips. "Oh, that's the stuff. So? What do we think? Pete Sampson, gentle giant or vicious murderer."
"Officially a suspect alone," Heather replied.
"You saw the way he reacted to Rodney, right? Came over all salty," Amy said. "That's what cat spitter Louis calls it when someone gets angry. Salty. Maximum sodium chloride extraction."
"That's creative."
"Not really. I think it's a meme," Amy said. "I'm not saying Pete's our guy but yeah, he's definitely worth a closer look."
"You're not wrong." Heather drank some of her coffee and let the taste fill her with strength from head to toe. She was good to go, now. She'd manage the next half of the day and their planned afternoon trip to Geoff's pet boutique, no problem. "But you know who I'd really like to take a closer look at?"
"Who?"
"Norma Young," she said and lifted her tablet. She opened the browser and typed out the name. She had to backspace twice to get it right.
"We should get a Bluetooth keyboard," Amy said. "Change our lives, I swear it."
"Another tip from the cat spitter?"
"No, that was from Jamie. He likes to write in his spare time."
Heather hit enter on the touchscreen and a list of results cropped up. The first one sent a shiver up and down her spine. Shoot, it sent it across her skin and around to her ribs. Right through her core, even.
"Norma Young, tribute page. A song for Norma young," Heather whispered. She tapped on the link and the website opened up.
The header contained a slide show of images of Norma. Beneath it, a poem dominated the page expounding upon Norma's features and her adorable pink cheeks. Her emerald green eyes.
"That's cringey," Amy said.
"I was thinking creepy. This site doesn't look like a new addition. And if it's been up a while we need to know who put it up and why." Heather scrolled down the page.
"These things cost money too. I mean, Jamie's no computer whizz but he has set up websites before and they cost a bit of money. There's the hosting and all that."
"I know." Heather had footed the bill for the design and set up of their own site, though Jung had gotten them discounts from his buddies. "Which means whoever did this is serious about Norma. Serious about immortalizing her."
"Who would immortalize someone before they're dead?" Amy asked.
"Someone crazy enough to commit murder." Heather copied the link from her browser, tapped open an email and forwarded it to Ryan. "Let's see what Detective Shepherd makes of this."
Amy grabbed a donut and Heather did the same. The sweetness would wash away the nasty taste that website had left in her mouth. Somebody had cared enough about Norma to do to that, perhaps even loved her, and as the saying went, there was a thin line between love and hate.
Chapter 6
Geoff Lawless had outdone himself. His boutique, Lawless's Pets n' Things Boutique, carried the same aesthetic - or anesthetic, wink, wink - as a fancy salon. The tiles floors gleamed, there were tables and chairs for the cats and dogs, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and windows which let in tons of light.
The only item which slightly marred the effect was the steel table near the back of the room. Presumably for the tough cases.
Where Geoff had failed at running a successful bakery, he'd more than made up for it with his boutique. This was a testament to the fact that passion made a difference. Passion could resuscitate the coldest corpse of an idea.
"Shepherd," Geoff grunted. He adjusted the straps of his zany, black and white striped apron. "Haven’t' seen you in a while."
"It's good to see you too, Lawless." Amy stroked Cupcake in her arms.
"Hello," Lilly said, and popped out from behind Heather. She held a squirmy Dave at arms' length. "We've come to wash our pets. Dave needs a haircut too." Dave whined a complaint.
"Wonderful." Geoff's face lit up. He touched his thumb to Dave's wet, black nose and the doggy dearest stopped wriggling around. He didn't growl. He licked Geoff's thumb instead, a solemn greeting for a man he'd once despised.
"You're doing well," Heather said. "This place looks awesome."
"Thanks." Geoff took Dave and carried him over to one of the plastic-covered salon chairs. He plopped the puppy into it then fed him a treat from a jar. "Don't worry, these are all organic. Contain Omega 3 and 6 Fatty Acids. Very important for a healthy coat." Dave licked Geoff's fingers.
"Well, if you can subdue Dave I'm not worried," Heather said. "He's never been good with baths."
Cupcake yowled at the mention of that. She'd missed the 'wash' cue but 'bath was unmistakable, apparently.
"Delilah?" Geoff called out.
A woman in a pink and white striped apron rushed out from a back room, brushing crumbs off her front. "Lunch break over," she said. "Oh my, what a gorgeous kitty. Aren't you the most precious girl I've ever seen? Look at those blue, blue eyes."
Cupcake purred and stood up on Amy's forearms, tail sleek and erect as if to say, "Yes, I am beautiful human, I'm glad someone finally noticed."
"Why don't you come with me, pretty girl? I'll bath you, and dry your hair and you can have a nice plate of fishy treats,"
Delilah continued.
Cupcake didn't flinch at the mention of a bath this time and she stepped readily from Amy's arms into the assistant's, her purr a loud rumble.
"She's my cat whisperer," Geoff said. "Best in the business."
"Amazing," Heather said.
"Cupcake's normally a bit frantic." Lilly scratched behind Dave's ears. "This is pretty cool. I wish I could get a haircut in a place like this."
"You and me both," Ames said. "Except I'd pass on the organic treats and go for donuts instead."
"Nothing has changed, then." Geoff's grumble made them all laugh.
"I'll get started on Cupcake," Delilah said. "Such a cute name. You are as cute as a cupcake. Little princess." Her sugary sweetness gave Heather a toothache, but Cupcake bathed in it. Gosh, the cat went so far as to rub the top of her fluffy head under Delilah's head.
The assistant hurried off, and Geoff focused on Dave. He examined the dog’s front paws and back, lifting his legs. Dave complied with everything. An Enya song drifted through the speaker and Heather blocked a yawn.
"Geoff, I don't suppose you need more help?" Amy asked, suddenly. "You don't have a dog whisperer or anything?"
"I don't."
"My boyfriend, Jamie, he works at the local pet store and I think he'd like working in a place like this. He loves animals. He keeps trying to free them," Amy said.
"Leave his number at the front." That was all. Geoff had always been a man of few words but he made those words count. He'd warned Heather about his horrid sister Kate. He'd finally slipped out from under the woman's thumb and he was a changed man.
A friend, even.
The front door of the store opened and a woman slipped into the boutique. Middle-aged, fluffy tufts of blonde hair at her temples, two Chihuahuas peeping out of a Gucci handbag. "Oh, you're busy," she said.
"You can leave them on the table," Geoff said. "I'll be over in a minute to have a look."
The woman swept to the table at the back and placed her purse on top of it. She took off two, lacy gloves and flicked them out.
"She looks familiar," Heather muttered. "Where have I seen her before?"
"Judy Walker," Geoff said. "Friends with that woman who died. One you're investigating?"
Vanilla Cream Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy - Book 44 (Donut Hole Cozy Mystery) Page 2
