All for One

by Melody Carlson

  “And that was not your lighter?”

  “You found a lighter and cigarettes?”

  He nodded, but she sensed suspicion in his eyes, as if he didn’t believe her about not being a smoker, which was ridiculous since it would be easy enough to prove. “The lighter and cigarettes were at the source of the fire, which begs the question—how did they get there?”

  His dark eyes seemed to bore into her now, as if he thought she was about to make some crazy confession about being a closet smoker. Suddenly Caroline wondered if she might need some legal advice. She glanced at Janie, who was still on the phone, and considered waving her over.

  “Look,” she told him in a no-nonsense tone. “I do not smoke. Neither does my mom. If you found cigarettes and a lighter, they had to belong to someone else.” A little light went on in Caroline’s head. “Joan,” she declared. “I’ll bet those things were hers.”

  “Ms. Wilson denied that they belonged to her.”

  “Well, I deny it too.” Caroline stood, waving to Janie to come join them. “That’s my friend Janie Sorenson,” she explained to the detective. “She’s a lawyer and I’d like her to hear what you’re saying.”

  “I’m not charging you with anything,” he said. “I’m just gathering information.”

  Janie came quickly. Caroline briefly explained what was going on and how it seemed that Detective Alberts was questioning Caroline’s honesty about being a nonsmoker.

  “Caroline is not a smoker,” Janie attested.

  “And neither is my mom,” Caroline said for the second time.

  “It seems obvious that the cigarettes and lighter belonged to the caregiver,” Janie said calmly.

  “Unless someone else just happened to leave them in the house.” The detective was looking directly at Caroline.

  “Why on earth would I leave cigarettes and a lighter in the house?”

  He continued looking at her. “I don’t know. You tell me why.”

  “This is crazy,” Caroline declared. “Do you honestly think I’d do something that stupid? I spend all my time trying to keep my mom safe. Why would I leave something dangerous around?”

  He puckered up his lips as if thinking. “One more question, Ms. McCann. Is it safe to assume that you would inherit your mother’s property in the event of her death?”

  “What?”

  “I think Caroline has answered enough questions,” Janie interrupted. “If you want to question her further, I suggest you go through the appropriate legal procedures and that her attorney be present.”

  “Aren’t you her attorney?”

  “I am her friend.” Janie stood straighter. “And if she needs an attorney, I am happy to represent her.” Then she hooked her arm into Caroline’s and walked her away.

  “What just happened?” Caroline asked Janie.

  “I could be wrong, but I think the detective was trying to pin something on you.”

  “But why?”

  Janie sighed. “Who knows? Maybe he just wants to solve a case the easiest way possible. Or maybe he’s having a slow week and wants to stir something up.”

  “Those cigarettes had to belong to Joan.” Caroline tried to think. “Why would she deny it?”

  “Did the detective say where the cigarettes were found?”

  He was still standing by the door, still writing in his black notebook. “Maybe we should go ask him some questions,” Caroline said.

  “Good idea.”

  “Can you handle the question part for me?” Caroline asked as they hurried back.

  “Gladly.”

  “Excuse me,” Caroline said to the detective. “We have some questions.”

  “Yes?” He looked at them with renewed interest.

  “Where exactly were the cigarettes found?” Janie inquired.

  “In Mrs. McCann’s bedroom.”

  “Is that where the fire started?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And the lighter was in there as well?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So it’s possible that Mrs. McCann somehow got hold of the cigarettes and lighter and took them into her room?”

  “It’s possible. Or else someone left them there.” He glanced at Caroline.

  Janie paused as if considering this information. “And you say the caregiver denies that they were hers?”

  “She did. She assured me she is not a smoker.”

  “It seems that it would be easy to establish—I mean, whether or not the caregiver is a smoker.” Janie waited for his response.

  He nodded. “Yes, that should be easy to prove.”

  “And I can’t imagine that caregivers are allowed to smoke on the job,” Janie added.

  “That seems reasonable.”

  Caroline opened her phone now. Moving a few steps away, she called the agency again. “I have a question about caregivers,” she told the woman who answered.

  “Yes, how can I help you?”

  “I’m just curious, but caregivers wouldn’t smoke in the homes of their clients, would they?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “This is a rule then?”

  “Absolutely. Our caregivers would never smoke around their clients.”

  “Thank you.” Caroline hung up and relayed this information to Janie and Detective Alberts.

  Janie’s brow creased. “So it’s feasible that Joan broke this rule and is afraid to admit it.”

  “It’s also feasible that Caroline left the cigarettes and lighter for her mother to find.”

  “Why would I do that?” Caroline waited.

  “Because you know that your mother used to smoke. You know she might attempt to smoke again. You know that could cause a fire. You had locks on the doors. A person could become trapped and—”

  “What are you suggesting?” Caroline demanded. “That I wanted my mom to burn the house down? With her in it?”

  “It would be an easy way to get rid of someone. Someone burdensome.”

  Caroline was too angry to respond, and so she just walked away. Janie could deal with that creep. This was preposterous. Here in the hospital of all places, while she was worried sick about her mom, that cop had the nerve to practically accuse her of attempted murder.

  Chapter 8

  MARLEY

  Sitting down across from Caroline in the hospital cafeteria, Marley could hardly believe what Caroline had just told her and Abby. “That is totally outrageous. The cops are accusing you of trying to kill your mom?”

  “It certainly appears that way,” Janie confirmed. “I witnessed the conversation.”

  “They seriously think Caroline would do something like that?” Abby demanded.

  Caroline nodded sadly.

  “How is your mom?” Marley asked.

  “She’s in critical condition,” Caroline explained. “She’s unconscious, which could be the result of stroke or heart attack or shock … or pain. She has third-degree burns to the upper right portion of her body, and her lungs are damaged from smoke inhalation.”

  “It doesn’t look good,” Janie added.

  “The doctor can’t believe she survived.” Caroline sighed.

  “And the authorities have actually accused you of planting the cigarettes in your mom’s bedroom?” Marley asked.

  “It gets worse,” Janie told her.

  “How is that possible?” Abby asked.

  “I am the sole beneficiary of my mom’s life-insurance policy,” Caroline said. “It’s not a huge policy, but it’s enough to make the cops even more suspicious.”

  “But what about that caregiver?” Marley persisted. “Why isn’t someone calling her on the carpet?”

  “She’s not answering her phone,” Car
oline said. “For all we know, she might’ve left town.”

  “That alone should prove she’s guilty,” Abby said.

  “She’s a new caregiver,” Caroline explained. “From what I can tell, no one at the agency really knows her that well.”

  “How did she get a job there?” Marley asked.

  Caroline shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “Someone there must know her,” Marley persisted.

  Caroline’s eyes lit up. “You know, Darlene recommended her to me, and Joan mentioned that some patients mix her up with Darlene.”

  “Have you called Darlene?” Marley demanded.

  “Not yet. She was pretty sick when we talked this morning. That’s why she couldn’t come today.”

  “Well, she can’t be too sick to talk on the phone.”

  Caroline sighed and reached for her phone. Then, leaving the three of them in the hospital cafeteria, she stepped out a patio door and began to talk into her phone. Marley just shook her head. “Poor Caroline.”

  Abby frowned. “I’ve never seen her so stressed out.”

  “This whole thing is like adding insult to injury,” Marley declared. “Here she’s worked so hard, keeping her mom at home, trying to make that place safe, and this happens.”

  “You don’t think there’s any chance she really did put those cigarettes there, do you?” With a creased brow, Abby looked around the table.

  “Of course not!” Marley shook a finger at her.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Janie added.

  “Yes, I’m sure she wouldn’t have done that.” Abby looked contrite.

  “Unfortunately the investigator seemed rather stuck on the theory,” Janie confided. “It’s as if he’s enjoying the drama of a potential murder charge.”

  “Small-town cops.” Marley shook her head. “Instead of doing a real investigation, they take something sad and innocent and totally blow it out of proportion.”

  “Who was the policeman anyway?” Abby demanded.

  “Detective Alberts,” Janie told her.

  Abby let out a groan. “Detective Alberts is a joke.”

  “What do you mean?” Marley asked.

  “I mean he likes to play detective, but he’s as clueless as they come.” Abby shook her head. “Everyone in town knows it.”

  “Then why is he a detective?” Janie asked.

  “Small-town politics. His father was chief of police before—” Abby stopped talking as Caroline rejoined them.

  “Any luck?” Janie asked Caroline.

  “Maybe.” Caroline sat down with a thoughtful expression. “Darlene didn’t know if Joan smokes or not, but she thinks she lives in the Hyde Street Apartments.”

  “Hey,” Marley said. “What if someone gave Detective Alberts a hand with his investigation?”

  Caroline cocked her head to one side. “How?”

  “Oh, you know.” Marley stood. “Do a little snooping, ask a few questions, maybe collect some evidence. You know how I love a good mystery. I bet I’ll be good at this.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Abby looked skeptical.

  “Totally serious.” Marley put one strap of her bag over a shoulder. “In fact I nominate you to be my assistant.”

  Abby looked shocked. “Me?”

  “Yeah. You used to read Nancy Drew too.”

  “Even so, I hardly think—”

  “Come on.” Marley reached for her hand. “We have a crime to solve.” Then she turned back to Caroline. “How about a little physical description of Joan, in case we run into her?”

  Joan sounded like a nondescript woman a little older than they were, slightly overweight, with short hair that was light brown and gray, frumpy clothes, sturdy shoes. “And weird glasses,” Caroline added.

  “Weird in what way?” Marley asked.

  “Kind of like they were from the eighties. Remember the oversized glasses with plastic rims? I think hers were tinted purple or pink. Sort of odd looking.”

  Marley nodded. “Okay then. I think we’re set.”

  “Thank you both,” Caroline said.

  “Be careful,” Janie called as they were leaving. “And smart.”

  “This is going to be fun.” Marley grinned as she and Abby went outside. “I think you should drive so that I can keep my eyes wide open.”

  Abby actually giggled. “I can’t believe I’m cooperating with you.”

  Even though it was cloudy, Marley put on her sunglasses. “I want to keep a low profile,” she said as Abby cruised by the small apartment complex.

  “Right.” Abby chuckled. “No one will think it’s odd that you’re wearing shades with no sun out.”

  “Fine.” Marley removed her sunglasses. Then she pointed to a sign. “Hey, it says there’s an apartment for rent. Let’s pretend I’m new in town and looking for a place.”

  “You want me to pull into the parking lot?”

  “Well, we can’t exactly make an inquiry in a drive-by.”

  So Abby parked. The two women got out and pretended to be interested in checking out the complex. They strolled around and assessed the landscaping, which was minimal, while keeping a lookout for Joan and her purple eighties glasses. Marley hoped to spy her smoking. When there was no sign of Joan, Marley led the way to the management office and boldly rang the bell.

  “Are you sure about this?” Abby whispered as they waited.

  Marley nodded. She was on a mission.

  A short balding man answered the door.

  “I’m looking for an apartment,” Marley told him.

  He opened the door wider. “You came to the right place. We got two different units available right now.”

  “Great.” Marley asked him how much a unit rented for and then acted like the price was perfect. “Mind if I see one?”

  “Not at all.” He grabbed some keys. “Right this way, ladies.”

  As he led them up some stairs, Marley made small talk about being new in town. “I’m going to be looking for some work,” she said. “How do you think the job market is here?”

  He shrugged as he unlocked a door. “Pretty much the same as anywhere I guess. What kind of work are you looking for?”

  “I’ve been a nurse’s aide. I was thinking I might get back into that.” Her hope was that this would jog his memory about another tenant.

  He opened the door, waving them into the small, stodgy apartment. “The units are all the same. Two bedrooms, one bath, kitchenette. What you see is pretty much what you get.” Then he explained about utilities and deposits.

  “How about smoking?” Marley asked.

  “You a smoker?” He frowned.

  She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “Well, the owner charges an extra deposit for smokers nowadays. That’s because we always end up needing to paint and clean more after they leave.”

  “What if I smoke outside?” Marley persisted, unsure of where she was going with this but wanting to continue the conversation. “Do you have some kind of designated smoking area?”

  “Not really.” He pointed out the window over the sink. Marley looked out to see a small grassy area with a rundown gazebo in the center. “Some of the tenants smoke out there. There are some benches.”

  She smiled at him. “Good to know.”

  “Hey,” Abby said. “I think a friend of mine might live in these apartments.”

  Marley turned to her. “Really? You didn’t mention that before.”

  “Her name’s Joan Wilson.”

  The manager rubbed the top of his shiny head as if trying to remember. “Oh yeah, that’s right. We got a tenant named Joan Wilson here. Just moved in last month.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” Abby gushed at Marley. “If you take the apartme
nt, you’ll have a friend nearby.”

  “I wonder which apartment Joan lives in?” Abby persisted. “It would be nice if hers was near yours. You could be neighbors.”

  “She’s on the other end,” the manager told her. “Unit 132.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.” He turned back to Marley. “So would you like to fill out an application? You get a discount if you apply today.”

  Marley squinted as if thinking hard. “How about if I take the application with me? I want to look at one more place before I make up my mind.”

  “Don’t forget that Joan is here,” Abby said with a twinkle in her eye. “That would make this apartment really special.”

  “That’s right,” the manager agreed. “You’d have a ready-made friend.”

  They went down to get the paperwork then, and before they left, Abby turned to Marley. “I think I should introduce you to Joan before we go.”

  “Good idea,” the manager said. “And remember, if you turn in your application today, you get that discount.”

  Marley thanked him and promised to keep that in mind. Then they told him good-bye and meandered on down to apartment 132.

  “What should we do if we actually see her?” Abby asked nervously.

  Marley shrugged. “I don’t know, but don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

  “Hopefully the manager won’t come down here and blow our cover. He might call the cops or something.”

  Marley chuckled. “Just relax, Abby. There’s no law against snooping.”

  The parking space marked 132 was empty, and the blinds in the corresponding apartment were closed.

  “Now what?” Abby looked discouraged. “We might as well go.”

  “Wait.” Marley pointed to a scraggly looking planter in the walkway that led to unit 132. There, mixed in with the dirt, were some cigarette butts. “Do you think?”

  “Joan’s?” Abby glanced nervously around, as if she expected someone to jump them from behind.

  “Maybe so.” Marley casually opened her purse, removed a clean tissue from the little packet she always carried, and, using the tissue, gathered up several of the butts, loosely wrapping them in another clean tissue. She slipped this little packet back into her purse, then zipped it closed.