Easy Like Sunday Mourning

by Jennie Marts

  Edna nodded at her friend. “That was good thinking, Mabel. We may need to Google a good bail bondsman too.”

  Mac rolled his eyes. “I told you. He is not under arrest.”

  “If he’s not under arrest, why’d you stick him in the police car and then throw him in the pokie?” Edna pointed a bony, wrinkled finger at the officer.

  Mac sighed. “First off, Ms. Allen, he is not in the ‘pokie.’ And second of all, I put him in the police car because that is what this fine city gives me to drive. Did you want me to load him on the back of my motorcycle?”

  “You have a motorcycle?” Cassie asked. She wiggled her eyebrows at Sunny and Maggie.

  Sunny ignored her friend and turned to Officer McCarthy. “Then why is he here?”

  “Hi, Sunny.” Mac’s face softened. He had been the officer on the scene earlier that summer when she had been assaulted, and it was obvious from his smile that he had a soft spot for Sunny. “How you doin’? Do you have to bring Edna along every time I see you?”

  Sunny grinned. “We’re kind of a package deal, I think. What can you tell us about Jeremy?”

  “Like I said, he’s not under arrest. We just brought him down for questioning.”

  “Has he asked for his lawyer yet?” Maggie’s voice held an edge of ice. She was not here to smile and play nice with the policeman. No matter how cute he was. She was here to find out about Jeremy.

  She wore high-heeled boots and stood well above the other shorter women. Mac looked up and his gaze met Maggie’s. His voice held a touch of challenge. “Does he need one?”

  Maggie had never been intimidated by men in power. “You tell me.”

  Mac stared at her for an extra beat, then held his hands up in surrender. “Look, ladies, there’s no reason to get upset and start calling in the lawyers. In case I need to state the obvious, someone was murdered at his company. Of course we’re going to want to ask him some questions.” He waved a hand at the group. “And furthermore, we may have to talk to him several times, and I don’t need the Nancy Drew Detective Agency Book Club filling up my police station every time we ask him to come down.”

  “So, is he free to go?” Maggie asked, ignoring the sarcasm aimed at the Page Turners.

  “We’re going over a few things with him. It may be a while.”

  The women looked at each other, and Maggie shrugged. “I guess I’ll wait for him. There’s no need for everybody to stick around.”

  Sunny put her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “We can wait with you. We could just have our book club discussion here.”

  Piper nodded. “We can totally stay with you.”

  Maggie looked around the entry room of the small police station. A scarred wooden bench sat along one wall, possibly long enough to fit three people on. If they were supermodels or hadn’t eaten much in the last few weeks. “It’s all right. Why don’t you just take everyone home? I have some emails to catch up on. I can use my phone and do a little work while I’m here.”

  “That’s okay with me,” Cassie said. “I still have to make cupcakes for Tiffany’s class tonight, and I hate to admit it, but I didn’t finish reading the book this week anyway.”

  “What else is new?” Sunny said.

  Edna planted her bony bottom on the bench seat. “Well, I already had cake tonight, and that’s the main reason I come to book club, so I can stay and wait with her. I have some ideas about this murder. Maybe I can find a detective to run some theories by.” She looked hopefully at Mac, who just shook his head.

  Mabel plopped down next to Edna. She opened the bucket of chicken and pulled out a leg. “Yeah, I can stay too. There’s nothing but reruns on the tube tonight, anyway. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll bring in an actual criminal. Then we can see some real police work in action.”

  The dig in Mabel’s statement was obviously not lost on Officer McCarthy. “Nobody needs to wait. It could be hours before he’s done. One of the officers will give him a ride home. And I don’t need you filling up my reception area. It’s bad enough to have criminals in here; we don’t need a book club meeting going on too.”

  He pointed at Edna. “And get this one out of here. Knowing her, she’s probably got a concealed weapon somewhere in that handbag she’s carrying. And what old lady goes around wearing sweatpants with JUICY printed on her behind?”

  Edna looked around the room, clutching her large purse a little closer to her chest and not making eye contact with Mac.

  “Nobody has to wait with me.” Maggie motioned to the group. “Really. You all go on home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “All right. We’ll clear out.” Sunny leaned in to give Maggie a quick hug. “Give me your keys. We’ll pick up your car and leave it here in the parking lot so you can take Jeremy home.”

  Maggie dug her key ring from her purse. She had forgotten that they had all ridden over with Sunny. Edna had offered to drive, but that would have been a ride they all would’ve remembered. “Thanks, Sunny.”

  “Of course. Call me if you need me.” She gave Maggie’s shoulder a quick squeeze then gestured to the women filling up the reception area of the small-town police station. “Let’s go, ladies. The Sunny Bus is leaving, and you all have two minutes to get on it.”

  Edna and Mabel grumbled as they pushed up from the bench. Mabel held the bucket out to Maggie. “Want me to leave the chicken?”

  “No, thanks.” Maggie watched them head for the door as she sank onto the bench Edna and Mabel had vacated.

  Edna turned and waved a hand at Officer Mac. “Stay tough out there, Mac. We’ll talk soon.”

  Mac waved and shook his head. Maggie heard him mumble, “I can’t wait.”

  Two hours, thirty-five emails and three levels of Candy Crush later, Maggie was still waiting. She stretched her legs in front of her and yawned, wishing now that Mabel had left the bucket of fried chicken.

  Sunny had dropped her keys and a bottle of Diet Coke by over an hour ago. The now empty pop bottle on the floor by Maggie’s feet prompted her full bladder to kick in with a gotta go right now message.

  Before she had a chance to ask the bored-looking desk officer where she would find a ladies’ room, the front door opened and a husky female officer escorted a woman in handcuffs into the police station and dumped her on the bench next to Maggie.

  The woman was attractive, yet had that “too many nights sitting in a bar” look about her. She turned to Maggie and flashed her a friendly smile. “I love your boots.” Her voice held a slight Southern drawl, but the compliment seemed sincere.

  Maggie studied the woman. Her long dark-blond hair curled around her face, with two inches of roots signaling that she hadn’t been to the salon in several months. The woman was slim and appeared to be in her late forties. She had a small waist and ample cleavage spilled out of the V-neck of her black t-shirt, a Sons of Anarchy emblem displayed across her chest. She wore red spike heels with black low-rise jeans, and Maggie spotted a butterfly tattoo across her back as the woman bent forward to drop her huge hobo bag on the floor.

  She slumped back against the seat, the smell of cigarettes and perfume wafting off of her tanned skin. “Hey, honey. I’m Lori. Lori Waddle. I’d shake your hand, but…” She lifted her shackled wrists toward Maggie.

  “Maggie.”

  Lori looked her over. “What’d they get you for? Harassing the PTA or stealing Girl Scout cookies?”

  Maggie laughed. “I’m just waiting for a friend.”

  “That’s all I was doing too. Just waiting for a friend. And Miss Piggy in a policeman’s uniform came over and arrested me.” She raised her voice and aimed her comment at the stout female police officer. “Hey, you should ask them for a uniform that’s in your actual size. And that color is not flattering.”

  “Pipe down.” The policewoman adjusted the brown uniform top, pulling together the gaping edges straining to hold the buttons in place. Her gold name-tag read “Officer Crane.” “We can’t all be fashion models like you.”r />
  The woman shrugged. “You don’t have to be mean about it. I’m just saying that uniform isn’t the most slimming. And a little mascara and lip gloss wouldn’t hurt you.”

  Maggie noted the thick layers of mascara and eye shadow that her bench-mate wore, and wasn’t sure she should be dispensing make-up advice. Something about the woman amused Maggie, though, and watching their interaction gave her something to do besides worry about what was taking Jeremy so long and how much she needed to use the bathroom.

  Lori turned to Maggie again. “Really, I wasn’t even doing anything. I was over at the Travel Inn, out on the highway there, the one with the nice lounge in it. I was just minding my own business. Wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Last time I checked, prostitution was illegal in Colorado,” Officer Crane commented from the counter, her head bent over a clipboard of papers she was filling in.

  “Prostitution? Who are you calling a prostitute?” Lori threw back her shoulders with exaggerated indignation and turned to Maggie. “Do I look like a hooker to you?”

  Maggie kept wisely silent.

  “I just met this nice man, and we got to talking. It’s a free country for men and women to talk to each other.”

  The policewoman didn’t even look up as she bantered back: “And you needed to finish that conversation in your hotel room? And then charge him a hundred dollars for your talk? You must have had some pretty wise pearls of wisdom to share.”

  Lori winked at Maggie. “Oh, I did. I am a pretty great conversationalist. And I didn’t charge him for anything. That was just a gift. Between friends.”

  “Well, you might see your ‘friend’ later. In court. And you might see your new friend there too.” Officer Crane pointed her ball point pen at Maggie. “You’re telling your troubles to a lawyer.”

  Lori swiveled back to Maggie and raised an eyebrow. “You really a lawyer?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Guilty as charged.” She loved a good lawyer pun.

  “Do you ever take any of those Sonny Bono cases?”

  Maggie looked at her questioningly.

  “You know. When the people don’t have enough money to pay.”

  Ah. The light bulb clicked on. “You mean pro bono.”

  “Yeah. Isn’t that what I said?” Lori leaned in toward Maggie. “Do you ever take on those cases?”

  The door to the back room opened, saving Maggie from answering. A bedraggled Jeremy stepped through, and Maggie was surprised at the emotion she felt for him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right. She only hoped that was true.

  She stood and crossed the room. Before she could speak, he folded her into his arms and held her tight against him. She felt him inhale and he held her just a beat too long.

  Maggie pulled back and looked up into his weary brown eyes. “You okay?”

  “I will be. Thanks for coming to get me.” He looked around the reception area. “The officer said the whole book club was here, including my granny.”

  Maggie chuckled. “They were here. I sent them home.”

  Jeremy ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “Home sounds good. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Good idea.” Maggie crossed back to the bench, dug a business card from her purse, and passed it to her new friend. “Here’s my card. You can give my office a call. I’ll see if I can help.”

  “Hey, thanks.” Lori lifted her cuffed hands and took the card, holding it tightly between her fingers. She winked up at Maggie. “By the way, your friend’s a hottie.”

  Maggie looked at Jeremy. He was kind of a hottie. But right now, he was in hot water. Maggie hoped she had the strength to get him out.

  Chapter Six

  The drive to Jeremy’s house seemed to take two hours instead of ten minutes. Jeremy was unusually quiet. Maggie was used to his constant chatter about some new idea he was working on. But tonight, he had no ideas.

  Jeremy’s somber mood was broken for a moment as he opened the front door and Chewie came lumbering into the room, his huge hind end shaking with the excitement of Jeremy being home.

  They made their way into the kitchen, and Jeremy slumped into one of the tall chairs that sat up against the center island. The big dog lay at his feet, resting his furry head on Jeremy’s foot.

  Fairly at home in his kitchen, Maggie poured them each a glass of wine, then walked around the counter and placed one in front of Jeremy.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip, then pulled Maggie to him, encircling her with his arms and tugging her into his lap. He leaned his head against hers. “Well, that sucked.”

  Maggie laughed. “Yeah, I bet. Do they know anything? Could you tell if they had any leads?” What she really wanted to know was why they questioned him for so long and what they thought they had against him.

  “They didn’t tell me anything. They just asked me to go over the same stuff. They asked me to tell them about everyone in the office. They asked about Jim and Charlotte and their relationship and if anybody else was having a relationship in the office. And if I had any relationships in the office.”

  Maggie looked at Jeremy but wisely kept her mouth closed.

  “I didn’t. I’m the boss. That’s a line I don’t cross,” he assured her. “Besides, we only have two women that even work there. One is happily married, and the other is Charlotte. Unfortunately, I don’t think Jim is the first office romance that she’s had, but I usually stay out of that stuff. I have enough other things to worry about than who is hooking up with whom.”

  Maggie thought back to the eye-popping cleavage that Charlotte was sporting and could easily imagine that she enjoyed the attention of the other men in the office. Granted, the woman did have a nice set of ta-tas, but were they worth killing someone over? “What else did they ask you about?”

  “They spent a lot of time talking about our new game and our competitor, SkyVision. Someone at the company must have told the police that we had a pretty strong rivalry with SkyVision, because the cops spent, like, an hour just asking me about their company and how our new game is competing with theirs.”

  Maggie took a sip of her wine and leaned against Jeremy. “And…how does it compete?”

  “It doesn’t.” Jeremy shook his head. “Nobody’s does. This new game that we’re working on is like nothing the gaming world has ever seen before. The programming of the artificial intelligence is so advanced, it’s going to blow everything else out of the water.”

  “So, you could potentially make a lot of money with this gaming thing?”

  “‘A lot of money’ is an understatement. It has the potential to outsell anything we’ve designed before. This new game is worth millions of dollars in revenue.”

  Maggie knew that Jeremy was well off and that his company was successful. He lived a fairly modest lifestyle, but in the several weeks that she had been dating him, she noticed a few things that hinted at his wealth.

  He owned a nice house in an upscale neighborhood, but his home had a few additions. The entry way and kitchen floors were Italian marble, and Maggie knew the thick, luxurious rugs covering the floors had to be quite expensive. The kitchen itself held top-of-the-line appliances, including a well-stocked wine cellar hidden behind the pantry.

  The floors of the bathroom were heated, and the bathtub in the master bath was big enough to hold four people. Jeremy enjoyed recreational activities and had an in-ground pool and hot tub installed in the backyard, as well as a fenced-in basketball court. A large room in his basement was converted into a theater room, with several comfy recliners, a ginormous big-screen TV, and a state-of-the-art sound system.

  The last game that Jeremy’s company had produced had netted him a substantial income. If this new game was worth even more money, then that was definitely a motive for murder.

  “Who else knew about this new game and its capabilities?” she asked.

  “Not that many people. We were trying to keep it pretty hush-hush. But the gaming world is a
ctually pretty small, and we’re a tight-knit group. I’m sure word of this could easily have leaked out.”

  “Could Jim be the one who leaked it?”

  “Sure. Anybody could have leaked it.” Jeremy sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “My whole company knew about it. We talk about it in staff meetings, and we have been working up promotional material on it for months. Producing a game like this is so complicated that a lot of people have a hand in it.”

  “How well do you—did you—trust Jim?”

  Jeremy grinned at her. “You’re starting to sound like a lawyer.”

  “That’s because I am a lawyer. Answer the question.”

  “All right. Geez.” He looked into his glass as he swirled the wine inside, as if he were searching for answers in the amber liquid. “I thought I could trust him. But I think I can trust everyone that I work with. They all sign an extensive packet of waivers and contracts defining their rights, and everything they design under our company belongs to us. They also each sign confidentiality clauses, so they are prohibited from talking about or sharing any of our designs.”

  Now he was talking her language. Clauses and contracts and waivers—she knew about these things. Most of the things Jeremy told her about his company were in a language she didn’t even comprehend. “Have you heard anybody talking about leaking information or being unhappy at work?”

  “No. I haven’t heard anything. I feel like we’re one big happy family.”

  His cell phone vibrated on the counter, and Maggie read Charlotte’s name on the display. And there’s one of the family calling now. From her vantage point, she could read the text message: Just thinking about you. Hope you are okay.

  Maggie watched Jeremy pick up the phone and return the text: thanks. I’m fine. He didn’t seem to try to hide the message or be uncomfortable with the text. “Does she text you after hours a lot?”

  “Sure. We all do. I work with so many people in their twenties, that’s the only way they know how to communicate. You can’t get them on the phone, but send a text and they reply within seconds.”