1 Murder for Bid

by Susan Furlong-Bolliger

  He seemed to consider the question for a minute. “Amanda was so civic minded and always fighting for a cause. She got onto some committee trying to save the Bensenville neighborhood from destruction.”

  “The industrial park deal?”

  “Yes. There was going to be a couple of chemical plants in the park. This group she belonged to was all worried about ground water contamination and air pollution. They started a movement and even succeeded in stopping the project for a while. They convinced the court to deny permits.”

  “But those decisions were overruled. The project was passed through. Were you paying off the judge?”

  He threw back his head and opened his mouth. A low haunting laugh escaped from between his lips. “I was. A lot of money, too. Madeline arranged it all. Madeline, the judge and I, we were quite the team.”

  He winked. I shuddered.

  “I still don’t understand what Amanda did to deserve to die?”

  “She was desperate and naïve. She was clinging to me. Maybe she needed rescuing from her husband’s never-ending control, or maybe she really thought she loved me.” He shrugged, blowing off the notion. “Who knows? When she finally found out about Madeline and me, she flew into a rage. She was a woman scorned and went after us with vengeance. She knew I was on the opposite side of the Bensenville deal. It didn’t take long for her to put it all together. She figured that I was using Madeline to get the judge to accept bribes for overturning the rulings, but it wasn’t enough for her to just break off our relationship. She had to go after me. She even enlisted the help of the judge’s intern to get some sort of proof that I had bribed Reiner. She eventually involved Richard’s law firm. She would have ruined me.”

  We had crossed the construction site and were approaching the sidewalk. My legs were moving incredibly slow. I didn’t know if it was fear slowing me down, or the humongous clods of mud caked against my feet.

  We had reached the plastic fencing and I noticed a few planks of wood stacked on the ground. I made a dive for one, planning to use it as a weapon, but I was too slow. Greg shoved me aside and snatched it up himself. “No,” I screamed, cowering as he raised it up as if to bludgeon me with it. It would end the same for me as it did for Amanda. Tomorrow, my body would be found here, skull smashed, covered in mud. My poor parents. “Shut up,” he shouted, suddenly dropping the wood and pointing the flashlight beam toward the fence. “Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not going to kill you here at my construction site. No, you’re going to climb over this fence and walk straight over to my car, so I can take you for a little ride.”

  I hesitated and watched in horror as he switched the flashlight to his left hand and withdrew a gun. He pointed it at me, emphasizing his point, “Then again, I’m flexible. If you don’t get in the car, I’ll simply shoot you here and drag your body. I doubt that anyone will even hear the shot in this weather.”

  He was right. The beating rain was deafening.

  I started for the car, falling as I attempted to clear the fence. Fear and the mud were making my legs heavy and useless.

  Greg snatched me back up. “Come on,” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry.” What? Had I just apologized to this beast? He was going to kill me.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry.” I continued to whimper hysterically. I was sorry. Why didn’t I listen to Sean? “Please, God,” I silently bargained, “if you get me out of this alive, I’ll never play detective again.”

  Someone loomed before us. “Stop there, Greg.”

  I was suddenly snatched backwards. Greg’s forearm wrapped around my neck. He was holding me so tightly that my feet lifted off the ground.

  “Put it down or I’ll kill her right now,” Greg snarled.

  “Kill her. I couldn’t care less. She’s such a nuisance.”

  I rolled my eyes up to see Richard Schmidt facing us. His outstretched hand held a gun.

  “I said put it down.” Greg placed his pistol directly on my temple. The cold pressure of the barrel felt as if it were boring into my skull.

  “You killed my wife,” Schmidt said. He inched closer.

  “Don’t come any closer, Richard.” I could feel Greg’s grip tighten around my neck. He was trembling. The gun barrel danced around my temple.

  “You killed my wife. I thought you were my friend.”

  “Oh, yeah. Is that why you were gathering evidence against the judge and me?”

  “I didn’t even know you were involved. I only knew that the judge was taking bribes to rule against the zoning laws. I didn’t know you were the one paying him. The project wasn’t even awarded to Davis Construction; it went to some other company.”

  Greg’s breath was hot on my neck as he spoke, “Yes, a dummy company set up by me.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well Amanda knew and she was going to expose everything. She wanted to ruin me.”

  “You’re so stupid, Greg. When you killed Amanda, you killed your own child.”

  “Shut up!” Greg was trembling now. I squeezed my eyes shut wondering if I would feel any pain when the gun went off.

  “It had to be yours. I can’t have … The coroner said it was a boy. You killed your own son. I would have taken her back. It wasn’t all her fault. I wasn’t the best husband. I would have forgiven her, raised the boy.”

  “Shut up! Shut up!” In a flash, Greg slid the gun from my temple and aimed at Schmidt. Shots exploded. I fell to the ground and coiled up like a fetus, arms crossed over my head. Something fell next to me, causing me to tense even tighter. Sirens blared and tires screeched, but I remained balled up in the mud, too afraid to move.

  Then a hand grabbed the back of my shirt and began pulling me upward. I screamed and kicked.

  “Pippi, stop! It’s me. Are you alright?”

  At the sound of Sean’s voice, I uncoiled, jumped up, and threw my arms around his neck. “Sean! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right now,” he soothed.

  I looked down. In the rotating beams of the police sirens, I could see Greg lying face down, spidery veins of bloody mud flowing in tiny streams away from his lifeless body. A couple feet away, Richard Schmidt was being handcuffed. A pistol lay next to his feet. He was crying—blathering unintelligently about Amanda and the child.

  Within seconds, a sea of uniformed officers descended upon the scene. They started taking Schmidt away.

  “Why are they cuffing him? He saved my life, Sean. It was Greg who killed Amanda.”

  “They’re taking him in for questioning. We’ll get it all straightened out at the station.”

  “How did you know?” I muttered.

  “Schmidt called in a while ago. Apparently, he saw you sitting in your car outside his house. He was ticked. I was coming to get you when I got your call. I got here just in time to see what was going down. I shot Greg from behind.”

  I started to tremble. I was so cold. I leaned into Sean, looking for comfort and warmth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”

  He pulled me close, his lips grazing over my forehead. “Not now, Pippi. Let’s get you home,” he whispered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A few days later, we were back in our favorite booth at BonMarito’s. I was still trying to sort things out. “I was so sure it was Schmidt,” I said as we waited for a half veggie, half pepperoni.

  “Yeah. Let’s just say, you’re not high on his list of favorite people either.”

  Our pizza came and we ate in silence for a while before I remembered that I hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing Jessica Hanson at Schmidt’s office.

  “It was Jessica Hanson who you saw,” he replied.

  I was surprised. “I thought you had Jessica in protective custody.”

  “No, we had offered, but she declined our help. She went to stay at a relative’s house until things died down. We had an officer on her, but she eluded him. Apparently she was hell bent on getting some sort of inf
ormation to Richard Schmidt. That’s why she went to his office. She thought she was so smart about it, but she should have listened to us because someone took a shot at her.”

  “Someone shot at her?” I was shocked.

  “Yes. Apparently, after she left Schmidt’s office, someone took a shot at her in the parking lot. She’s at Edwards Hospital in grave condition. We haven’t been able to question her.”

  I thought back to that day and remembered seeing Madeline Reiner outside the Clark Building. I told Sean.

  “We’ll check into it. I’ll get a warrant for the Reiners’ residence. Maybe we’ll find a gun matching the ballistics from the bullet pulled out of Jessica.”

  I shuddered. “What information did she have for Schmidt’s, anyway?”

  Sean shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. We won’t really know all the details until she’s able to talk. I do know that she wanted Schmidt to reopen the investigation. Jessica was a huge activist against the Bensenville industrial park deal. Seemed she hated the judge for overturning his rulings and wanted to see him brought to justice. She and Amanda had met at some environmental demonstration and became quick friends. They had been building a case against the judge for some time and were hoping that Schmidt could help them use the evidence to reopen the case in the Appeals Court.”

  “Did Jessica know anything about Greg Davis?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so. Amanda was probably keeping Greg’s part in the scheme a secret until she decided what to do about their affair.”

  “And the baby,” I added sorrowfully.

  “Yes, the baby. How ironic that Davis didn’t know that she was pregnant with his child. That might have made a difference.”

  I wondered. “What an unlikely pair,” I commented.

  “Who? Jessica and Amanda, or Amanda and Greg?”

  “Both.” I refilled our glasses from the pitcher. “Actually, I was wrong about almost everything. I thought Schmidt and Madeline Reiner were having an affair when it was actually Greg involved in a love triangle with both Amanda and Madeline.”

  “I told you he was a player.”

  I cringed. “You were right. I don’t know what I saw in him.”

  Sean didn’t comment.

  I thought back to all the hate and greed that I had witnessed the past week. It was all so tragic. A young mother-to-be murdered and another young woman in the hospital. Not to mention so many damaged relationships, mine included. I looked at Sean. I was filled with regret and wondered if we could ever get things back on track. “Can you ever forgive me for the way I’ve treated you?” I finally asked.

  Sean shrugged. “Let’s just try and move on from here.”

  “Are you seeing Sarah Maloney?” I blurted out. “Just tell me the truth. I know she’s been with you a lot. She answered your phone a couple of times when I called.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know why she answered my phone. That seemed strange. I told her to stop it.”

  I wondered. Could it be that Sarah knew it was me calling and wanted to stir up some jealousy? Maybe cause problems between Sean and me. I was betting that Sarah Maloney wanted more than just a professional relationship with Sean.

  Sean continued, “We’ve been working together a lot lately getting ready for a Special Olympic meet in June. She just happened to be at my place a couple times when you called. I told you, we’re just good friends, that’s all.”

  “So, what? You’re not falling for her? No attraction whatsoever?” I asked, having a difficult time believing that there couldn’t be something between them. I could hear the desperation creeping into my voice.

  “No. I don’t know.” He put down his pizza and looked directly at me.

  “Does she want to be more than friends?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

  He shrugged.

  I felt sick. “So, where does this leave us?” Tears were starting to gather in my eyes.

  “Nothing has changed with us. This is just something I have to figure out.”

  “So, you want me to just hang around and wait while you decide what you want to do?” I was starting to shake.

  He grabbed my hand. “Pippi, we’ve known each other for a long time. You know how I feel about you. It’s just that I don’t know if we’re ready for more yet. I mean, I’ve been watching you these last couple of weeks with Greg. You didn’t seem to be too sure about us when he was around.”

  He had a point. Maybe I wasn’t as ready for marriage as I thought.

  “Don’t you want to be sure about our feelings before we make a final commitment?” he asked.

  I nodded. Everything he was saying made sense. It just wasn’t fair. Greg turned out to be a crazed killer, while Sarah was still a gorgeous, intelligent, alluring woman. Now that Greg was out of the picture, I was surer than ever that Sean was the man for me. Actually, the more I thought about it, the name Pippi Panelli seemed to have a quaint ring to it.

  “Let’s just give it a little time,” he was saying.

  Pippi Panelli. Pippi Panelli. It sounded good, really good. I shook my head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s not give it time. I’m sure, Sean. That thing with Greg, it was just …”

  He grabbed my hand. “No, Pippi, I need time.”

  Time? I could feel my face start to redden. How much longer did he expect me to wait?

  “Please,” he begged, sensing that I was getting angry again. “Don’t push me now. I need to sort this out.”

  I struggled with my emotions: anger, jealousy, and guilt. I could see just how much the Greg-thing had hurt Sean. This was entirely fault. I had really messed up. Maybe I did owe him a little time.

  I waited to see if he was going to expand on the topic, but he seemed satisfied to let it go. Instead, he shook parmesan over the top of our pizza and changed the topic. “You were right about the murder weapon.”

  I brightened a bit at the compliment. “Yeah, I was right about the golf club, but let’s face it; you never would have been so easily misguided by a murderer. Had you not stepped in when you did, I’d be...”

  He leaned over the table and silenced me with a long tender kiss. That’s when I knew, without a doubt, that Sean and I were meant to be together. For that, I was willing to wait, no matter how long it took.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A former high school language teacher, Susan started working as a freelance translator and writer after leaving the teaching profession. During her writing career, she has worked to compile several literary encyclopedias, text books, and medical reference dictionaries. In addition to her work as an academic writer, she has published several nonfiction articles in national magazines. Recently, she has turned to writing fiction and has published several short mysteries. Murder for Bid is her first novel. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and four children.

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR