by Lynn Bohart
Masterson indicated that it was time to leave and led them out the door. Lee couldn’t help a fleeting look back at the feed chain and shuddered. They crossed the expansive yard once again just as a giant skip loader picked up six big logs with huge, crablike claws. It whirled around with amazing speed and disappeared behind a building, making Lee feel vulnerable everywhere she moved.
“Do you want to see anything else?” she asked Rupert, hoping to God that he wouldn’t.
Rupert shook his head, pushing his glasses into place. “I don’t think so.”
The three returned to the office, where they removed their helmets.
“Any questions?” Masterson asked taking the helmets and putting them back on the shelf.
“No,” Lee said, running her fingers through her hair. “Thanks for your time.” She turned to Rupert. “So, where do you want to set up tonight?”
He rubbed his beard. “Probably that filing room. The one with the saw blades. I can do a lot with the blades in the background, and since it’s a motion-free room, it won’t affect the camera.”
“That’s a good choice,” Masterson confirmed. “I’ll let them know at the front gate.” He turned to make himself a note. “Now, remember, you’ll be going across the yard to the South Mill. I’ll let the night manager know to be on the lookout for you.”
“Thanks,” Rupert said as he started out the doorway.
“Also,” Masterson stopped him, “this back gate will be closed. You’ll need to come through the front gate, off Main Street.”
The two thanked him and left. Outside, Rupert said goodbye and walked off to his truck with a wave of his hand. As Lee drove slowly out of the yard, she realized she didn’t relish the thought of coming back at night. The plant was a huge monstrosity that seemed poised and ready to devour her at any moment, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of danger. And she thought she’d had enough of that lately.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was three-thirty that afternoon when Lee arrived home. She had tried calling Carey twice from the car, but no one answered, and Lee was too cautious to leave a message about the lab report she hoped to find. Carey would be her only hope of getting back into the condo to find it. A leisurely shower and a nap were top on her agenda now, but she found Jenny coming up the walk carrying a bulky cardboard box.
“Hi,” Jenny greeted her brightly. “We got busy and boxed up Diane’s stuff. I thought I’d drop it off before I ran to the bank for the deposit.”
“Come on in.” Lee unlocked the door and they stepped inside. “Just put it over there.” She gestured to the corner of the entryway where Jenny dropped the open box next to a plant stand.
“How are you doing?” Jenny asked, turning to Lee.
“Fine,” she said, knowing her voice carried all the enthusiasm of a dead fish. “I just got back from the tour with Rupert.”
Jenny’s face brightened. “How’d it go?”
“That place is amazing. Scary, but amazing.”
“My brother-in-law worked for McKenzie Mills a while back. He used to cringe whenever the phone rang at night because it usually meant there’d been an accident.”
“Yes,” Lee agreed. “It’s a bit intimidating. Anyway, where are you off to tonight?” she asked, trying to be casual.
“I’m going bowling with Jim. He’s trying to get me to join a league.”
“Oh, right, the new boyfriend. Somehow, I can’t see you bowling.”
“Well, he practices every Friday night like clockwork, so he can bowl Thursday nights with the league. If I want to see him on Fridays, I go bowling. I’m not sure it’s how I want to spend the rest of my life, but I’m willing to give it a chance.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d better get going. I still have to go to the bank and run an errand for Marie.” She started for the door.
“Jenny, hold on.” Lee reached over and fumbled around inside her purse for the envelope with the suicide note. “Just out of curiosity, does this look like something Diane would have written?”
Jenny studied the note and her blue eyes clouded over. “It’s the suicide note.”
“Yes. Read it and tell me if you… well, if you see anything wrong with it.”
Jenny’s eyes skimmed the note. “There are a couple of mistakes. Plus…” she scraped her fingernail over the copy on the paper. “Unless Diane bought a new printer, she didn’t print this at home.” She handed the note back to Lee.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s printed on an ink jet printer. Diane didn’t have one.”
Lee looked at the document. “How do you know what kind of printer it’s been printed on?”
“Diane had a laser printer, which lays the ink on top of the paper. You can actually scrape it off.”
She stuck her finger out for Lee to see. It was clean.
“This has been printed on an ink jet printer. The paper absorbs the ink. It’s more professional. That’s why Diane used to bring important things to the office to print. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Hey, by the way, doesn’t Diane’s brother-in-law bowl?”
Jenny paused on the bottom step. “I think he’s in the same league with Jim. Diane talked about him once and what a jerk he was. Why?”
“Would you do me a favor? Ask Jim tonight if Vern Mathews bowled last Thursday.”
“Sure. I’ll see if I can find out.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you next week.”
Jenny sauntered down the walk as Lee closed the door focused on one thought. The suicide note hadn’t been printed on Diane’s printer.
At 8:45, Lee grabbed the jar of popcorn and a pan to get ready for Marion, who had called to say she was running late. Soldier lay next to the kitchen table, watching Lee’s every move. Lee had finally left an innocuous message for Carey about the lab report and jumped when the phone rang, thinking it might be her.
“Hi, Mom. I’ve got good news.”
Lee gently shook the pan as the oil crackled inside. “Is it about Soldier?” she asked.
“No, it isn’t about Soldier, but I’m working on that.”
Lee frowned. “What’s the good news then?”
“This apartment is working out really well, and we’re signing a one-year lease tomorrow.”
Lee stopped shaking the pan. “A one-year lease? I thought you were coming home for the summer.”
“If we want this apartment, they want us to sign a year’s lease. That’s pretty standard, you know.”
Lee cringed. Her daughter didn’t know the first thing about leases. She could hardly negotiate a turn. Lee pictured some middle-aged man with a cigar tapping the lease document with a stubby finger and saying, “Yep, one year. That’s the standard. Gotta have it.”
“And I’ve applied for a job at a pizza place in town,” Amy continued. “They don’t want to hire anyone who isn’t planning on being here through summer break.”
This time, Lee pictured Amy in some goofy-looking mini-skirt with a matching pizza hat, delivering bubbling hot pizza to a bunch of drooling fraternity boys. The popcorn started to smoke, and Lee quickly pulled it off the burner, turning her nose up at a cloud of acrid smoke that now filled the kitchen.
“Shit!”
“Mom, I need a place to live, and I’m only forty minutes away. It’s not like you’ll never see me again.”
“That wasn’t directed at you. I just burned the popcorn. Just a minute,” she snapped.
She put down the phone and dumped the blackened kernels into the trash can, before waving a towel in the air to dissipate the smoke. She put the pot back on a cold burner. With resignation, she took the phone and went to sit at the table. The dog took the cue to move over next to her. “Amy, I just don’t want you making snap decisions. If you sign a lease, you’re stuck. Can you be sure Maddie will be there all summer, too?”
“Maddie already has a job at the university bookstore that runs through the summer. It’ll be okay, Mom. Trust me.”
How many times had she heard that phrase? The last time was when Amy had just rescued an orphaned German Shepherd. Lee sighed and patted the dog on the head. Her daughter was pulling away and it hurt.
“What kind of deposit do they want?”
“They want first and last month’s rent and a $100 cleaning deposit. That’s pretty standard, too. I’ll need about $600.”
Lee merely grunted. “Okay. I’m good for it. You can tell them you’ll pick it up this weekend when you pick up the dog.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be home around noon on Sunday.”
“Not Saturday?”
“Well, there’s a big party up here Saturday night with some of the kids in the Education Department. I’ll be home Sunday.”
“Then you’re here for only half a day.”
“Mom!” Amy whined, and Lee knew she was holding on too tightly.
“Okay,” she cut off the complaint with a raised voice. “See you Sunday. Just make sure you come with a leash.”
They hung up, and Lee went back to the stove to finish the popcorn. A few minutes later, she had a large bowl filled with plain popcorn and was starting on the butter when the phone rang again. She answered it with a cube of butter cupped in her hand.
“Hey,” Patrick’s voice greeted her. “I’m sorry about what happened at breakfast this morning.”
After Amy’s phone call, Lee was hardly in the mood to deal with her brother. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I thought I’d bring some stuff over after rehearsal tonight. Maybe we could talk then. I’d like to help.”
“I won’t be here. I have to work.”
“What are you doing on a Friday night?”
“We’re doing a photo shoot at Green Valley Lumber Company.”
“So, no date.”
“Patrick! I have to go.”
“What time is the photo shoot scheduled?”
She became impatient. “Not until eleven o’clock, so I’ll be there late. Marion is coming over in a few minutes to help me work out some things. So, come on over, and we can catch up tomorrow.”
She hung up and took a deep breath. She took the wrapping off the butter before placing it into a small pan. As it began to melt, she thought about Patrick with a twinge of remorse. Patrick, the habitual peacemaker, would probably follow her to the sawmill. Oh well, so be it. She knew she was being overly sensitive, but she’d had a lot to deal with lately. She’d apologize to him later.
The doorbell rang, interrupting her thoughts. Lee turned off the burner and placed the large bowl of popcorn on the counter, pointing a finger at the dog.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Marion was at the door with one arm wrapped awkwardly around an easel and the other clutching a bottle of wine. A large erase board leaned up against the door.
“Sorry I’m late, but I brought props.”
“I can see that. Here, let me help you.”
Lee grabbed the white board and wine and stepped back to let her inside. Marion set the easel up in the living room, while Lee hung her coat in the closet.
“I’m just finishing the popcorn. Come into the kitchen.”
“Smells like charcoal,” her friend teased.
They entered the kitchen to find Soldier guarding the snack bowl.
“When did you get a dog?”
“I didn’t. She’s leaving this weekend as soon as Amy finds her a home.”
Lee went to the stove, while Marion sat at the table. Soldier abandoned the popcorn to greet the new visitor. Marion stroked her head, while her tail fanned the room in appreciation.
“She’s charming. You should keep her. You could use some companionship now that Amy’s gone. And some protection,” she emphasized with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t think so,” Lee answered. She relit the stove and played with the melting butter. “I’m not really a dog person anymore.”
“Anymore?”
“I had a dog once, a long time ago. I’m not really in a position to take care of an animal right now.”
“Nonsense. You just said goodbye to a teenager. What’s the difference? In fact, a dog would be easier. They don’t talk back.”
Lee crossed to the counter to pour the butter over the popcorn just as the phone rang. Lee asked Marion to get it.
“It’s someone named Jenny,” she said.
“Could you just take a message,” Lee asked.
While Marion wrote a note, Lee opened a cupboard to find the cheese stuff she had promised earlier that day. She grabbed an orange colored bottle the size of a small saltshaker and sprinkled it over the popcorn and then stirred it up. Then, she pulled two wineglasses out of a cupboard and asked Marion, “How are you at opening wine bottles?”
“Great, given the right tools, which I have right here,” Marion said, handing Lee the note she’d written. She reached into the large square pocket of her brightly quilted jacket and pulled out a bottle opener. With a little twist of her wrist, the cork popped. “There, you see?” she said as she grabbed the glasses from Lee. “Shall we?”
Lee reached for two bowls and the popcorn and they headed for the living room.
Lee was beginning to feel energized, as if she were within reach of the finish line of an important race. By the end of the evening, she hoped they would be able to put the final piece of the puzzle in place. Then, she could go to the police.
She placed the popcorn on the coffee table and began to fill the bowls, while Marion poured the wine.
“I’d better get some napkins,” Lee said, starting back to the kitchen.
“Do you have a marking pen?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it.”
Lee ducked into her study to find the marking pen and wrinkled her nose at the smell of burnt popcorn. She pulled up the sash window that looked onto the back porch to let in fresh air, and then rummaged through a desk drawer to find a thick black marking pen. When she returned to the living room, Marion had placed the erase board horizontally on the easel. She looked up when Lee came back.
“Well, aren’t we professional?” she quipped.
“Hardly,” Marion laughed as she stepped up to the board. “Did you find a pen?”
Lee handed her the marking pen, and Marion drew a line across the top from left to right. Above it she wrote the headings, “Facts, Suspicions, and Research.” She drew a vertical line down the left side of the board.
“How’s that look?”
Lee sat cross-legged on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “It’s as good a place to begin as any. Let’s begin with facts.”
Marion lifted her glass of wine off the table and took a sip. “Okay, let’s start with Diane. Tell me what you know about Diane that’s significant.”
Marion stood poised and ready to write. Lee considered for a moment and then began.
“Well, Diane was an absolute perfectionist, to a fault. That’s a fact.”
Marion looked at her with eyebrows raised.
“Believe me, it’s pertinent. Just put it down.”
Lee also instructed Marion to add the typos in the suicide note and all the information about the diabetic cat, insulin, and syringes. Lastly, she had Marion add a column called Crime Scene.
With her wine glass in one hand and pen in the other, Marion finished writing all of the facts on the board and then began to sit down when Lee stopped her.
“Wait! Put ‘vase’ under Suspicion in the crime scene row. Something fishy happened with the vase that Diane usually kept on her coffee table. It was there earlier that evening and gone when Amy and I found the body.”
Marion complied. When she finished, she perched on the arm of a chair and took a swig of wine. “Did you find anything of consequence when you were there the other day?”
“I found a lab report.”
Marion’s eyes lit up. “What does a lab report have to do with anything?”
Lee took a deep breath before responding. “Bud Maddox works in the
lab.”
“So?”
“I think he might have been blackmailing people by running phony lab reports.”
Marion stopped with her wine glass inches from her mouth. “How?”
The adrenaline started to pump as Lee began to explain. “I met with both the lab director and a lab technician today. What I pieced together is that someone could run phony lab reports and use them for a variety of illegal purposes.”
Marion just stared at her for a moment. “And you think the lab report you found at Diane’s was one of those?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know what it was at the time, so I didn’t read it. It was in a bathroom drawer, and her condominium was broken into the other day. It was ransacked as if someone was looking for something, so I’m not sure it’s even still there. And, as you know, my house was broken into, too.”
Her voice trailed away as her mind raced back to that night. Perhaps that was what Bud was looking for. Perhaps he thought Lee had found the lab report at Diane’s and brought it home. That would mean he’d known she had visited the condo the night of the funeral.
“You okay, Lee?” Marion’s voice pierced the haze of thoughts whirling around in Lee’s head. “You look a bit green.”
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I just got a chill.”
Lee got up to open a blanket chest next to the fireplace. She pulled out her favorite afghan. “I did find something else, though,” she said, sitting down and pulling the afghan across her lap. “A chip from the missing vase. It was under a throw rug that had been placed under the coffee table.”
“So, you were right, it had been broken?”
Marion turned to the board. Under Suspicion, she wrote vase broken - by whom? Then she drew an arrow extending into the Research column, and finally, wrote broken chip in the Facts column.
“Stay there,” Lee continued. “There’s more. The throw rug had been moved to cover up a deep gouge in the floor.”
