Textbook Murder

by Laina Turner

  It was close quarters for two adults, and she could feel the heat radiating from him. With their height differences, she could feel his breath on her forehead, which somehow struck her as funny, but she suppressed the nervous giggle.

  “How are we going to know if he, or I guess she, is gone? I can’t hear a thing from in here.”

  “Well, it’s better than whoever it is finding us. But dammit, I just realized I left the drawer open. That person is most definitely going to see it. I’m so stupid.”

  “Listen, we didn’t expect to have to hide from someone, so it is what it is. We just need to wait it out until we think he’s gone.”

  Chloe kept checking her watch. It seemed like the minutes were ticking by at a snail’s pace. It was a great thing she wasn’t claustrophobic because this was definitely a tight, dark spot. After an eternity, which was actually thirty minutes or so, she wondered if it was safe to go out and whispered as much to Randall. They hadn’t heard any noises, but unfortunately, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  “I would think he would want to be in and out like we intended, had we not decided to hang out in this closet. Besides, I’m armed,” he said, holding up the butter knife that was still in his hand.

  “Funny. What will we do if he’s still out there?”

  “Run. Or scream. Or both?” he said. “It’s not like he’s going to call the police on us. He won’t want to get caught any more than we do.”

  Chloe was closest to the door, so she pushed softly against it to open it, and stepped gingerly into the main pantry. She paused, listening for a few minutes to see if she could hear anyone out in the house. There was nothing but silence, so she took the additional step and a half to the front and carefully turned the door handle, cringing when it made a click. Allowing it to open only an inch or two, she again paused to listen.

  “I don’t hear anything,” she said over her shoulder to Randall.

  “Then let’s take our chances.”

  Chloe opened the door all the way and took a step out into the kitchen. Her foot caught a glass bottle of something in the pantry, knocking it over and creating a horrific noise like none she had ever heard before—a loud clink, followed by the sound glass makes when it rolls around on ceramic. Loud in normal circumstances, it was amplified by ten in the dead silent house. She froze, as did Randall behind her. At least if someone was still in the house, they would either come running in a second to check it out or run out the front door.

  A few seconds went by with no other sounds.

  “I think the person is gone,” Randall said.

  They stepped out of the pantry and flipped their flashlights back on, headed back to the study. Randall immediately went back to the desk to check on the drawer he had wanted to examine. The entire thing was gone. Whoever had broken in must not have wanted to take the time to try to break into the drawer, so they just took the entire thing. He smacked the top of the desk in frustration. “Dammit, it’s gone. Who knows what could have been in there.”

  Chloe was disappointed as well, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it at this point, and she said as much to him.

  “Randall, we just need to consider ourselves lucky we didn’t get caught by whoever that person was.”

  “I know, but it also proves that whatever was in that false bottom, Bill hid it for a reason. It could have been the evidence to clear me that he said he had, and now it’s gone.”

  “I know you’re frustrated. I am too, but there’s nothing we can do. Let’s look around some more and see if anything else here might be of use.”

  “Okay, but your positive attitude is annoying,” Randall said, pretending to be mad.

  “Oh, shut it,” Chloe told him, smiling.

  They looked through the office one more time, and quickly through the rest of the house, but came up empty-handed.

  “At least we didn’t get caught,” Chloe said once they got back to Randall’s house, trying to find something positive to cheer him up.

  “You’re right. I just wish I would have gotten whatever it was in that drawer.”

  “You can’t beat yourself up over it. We just need to regroup.” She didn’t feel as upbeat as she was pretending to be, but she didn’t want Randall to be so hard on himself.

  Chloe got up and walked over to where her things were sitting and picked up her purse and bag. “Are you going to be okay? I should really be getting home. I’ve got another early class tomorrow.” She was worried about Randall. He seemed really down on himself, and while it was disappointing that they didn’t know what had been in that drawer, which was now in the clutches of whoever the intruder had been, there was also nothing they could do about it. Maybe she was a bit Pollyanna about it, but she was a firm believer in controlling what you could and not stressing yourself out over those things you can’t.

  “I’ll be fine.” He attempted a smile.

  “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  It didn’t take long at this time of night to drive the short distance to her apartment, but when she reached the front door, she realized something wasn’t right.

  The door was slightly ajar, and she knew she hadn’t left it that way. She slowly pushed it the rest of the way open, to find exactly what they had found at Bill’s.

  A mess. She wasn’t Suzy Homemaker, but this wasn’t at all how she had left it.

  Someone had been here looking for something. Probably the same person who had broken into Bill’s house and her car and the office at school. Surely, there weren’t three separate people looking for things independently. If there were, things were even crazier here than she thought. She was starting to get nervous that someone seemed determined to invade every place she had been.

  She dug through her purse and pulled out the card Jack had given her. This wasn’t something a detective would normally handle, but since it was late, she decided to try his cell first. He answered on the second ring. Probably used to late-night phone calls.

  “Rodriguez.”

  “Hi, Detective Rodriguez. This is Chloe Parsons calling. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I think there’s been a break-in at my apartment.”

  “What do you mean, think?” he said, his brisk tone turning to a concerned one.

  “I’ve been gone all day and just got home to find my place trashed, which is not how I left it.”

  “What’s your address?” he asked, and she gave it to him. “I’ll be right over. I’m going to call and send a squad car over too. I will see you in fifteen. Stay put and don’t touch anything,” he warned.

  Hanging up, she knew better than to touch anything, so she decided to go back out and wait in her car. It was just a few minutes later that the squad car showed up, lights flashing but no siren, thank goodness. She didn’t need her neighbors waking up. It was bad enough people might see the lights and wonder what was going on. She liked to keep a low profile, and having cops at your place the first week of moving in was not a low profile.

  The police had just started to get out of their car when a black Charger zipped into the lot, pulling right next to the cop car. She saw it was Rodriguez. Fancy unmarked cars they had here.

  She stood up from where she was sitting on the sidewalk to greet them.

  “Are you okay?” Rodriguez asked her.

  She nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “Let’s go take a look, then,” he said, and started walking toward the door. Chloe pointed to the apartment that was hers.

  Rodriguez paused and looked at her. “Was the door open when you got home?” Chloe nodded.

  “Okay. Stand to the side and let them go in first.”

  “I’ve already been in there—whoever was there is gone.”

  “Probably. But then again, they could be hiding in a closet. Burglars love closets,” he teased, which took Chloe by surprise. It made her laugh and relieved some tension. She guessed that had been his intent and was grateful. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that moment.
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  “You have a good bedside manner for a cop.”

  “I try.”

  “All clear,” the officers said, coming back out.

  Detective Rodriguez turned and looked at her, “let’s go in and take a look.”

  She followed him through the doorway and stayed silent while he took it all in.

  “If you hadn’t recently been part of a murder investigation, I would say this was a random break-in. Although this is a good neighborhood, crime happens everywhere. But this does add one more thing to a list that is too many to be a coincidence.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Someone must be looking for something they think I have.”

  Chloe was starting to feel very repetitive—it seemed she was saying the same thing every time she talked to Jack. But someone must think she had some kind of information on Bill or Randall. Why else would this happen?

  “We’re going to need to process this as a crime scene. I’m not sure you’ll be able to get into your apartment tonight,” he said apologetically. “I can put you up in a hotel?”

  “That’s not necessary. I can find a place to stay.”

  “I know you’re new in town. Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Call me when you’re finished here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thanks. By the way, I talked to Randall, and he said he didn’t know Bill had a son.”

  “Do you believe him?” Rodriguez asked.

  She paused for a second. “I think so. He genuinely looked surprised at the information.”

  “Okay,” he said thoughtfully.

  Chloe walked back out to her car and sat, trying to decide which one of the two people she knew in town would be the best to call. Mallory or Randall? She decided Mallory would be the less awkward choice, and maybe her incessant chatter about how cute Jack was would provide a welcome distraction, though she did have to admit he looked mighty good tonight. Mallory would want every detail, and that would take her mind off the fact that a stranger had been rummaging through her things. She quickly called Mallory. Once she told her new friend what was going on, she gave her directions to her house. Mallory hadn’t hesitated for a minute when Chloe had asked to be an impromptu houseguest. Which Chloe was grateful for. She felt bad imposing.

  Chloe was finding herself having feelings for Randall, and she wasn’t completely sure how great of an idea that was. He was going through the most challenging time of his life, and she wanted to help him. So maybe what she was feeling wasn’t true attraction. It was just a desire to help. She knew there was an attraction to her on his part, but was it real, or was it just gratefulness that someone believed in him? A result of his recent isolation?

  She shook her head. This romance crap wasn’t any easier now, in her thirties, than it had been when she was a teenager. She found it ironic that she had thought taking this position in Spencer would be a nice getaway, and yet she was in the middle of things far more complicated than where she came from. Life was definitely throwing her some unexpected curve balls.

  Chapter 14

  In short time, Chloe arrived at Mallory’s and was seated on her couch, enjoying a glass of Merlot. She braced herself for the barrage of questions that were sure to come about the fine-looking detective, the break-in, or both.

  Mallory gave her a chance to take a few sips of wine before starting in with the questions, and Chloe was actually impressed with her restraint.

  “Do you think it’s related to Bill’s murder?” Mallory came right out and asked, breaking the silence.

  She definitely wasn’t shy with her questions, regardless of what they pertained to. She took another sip of wine before answering.

  “I think it is, and so does Detective Rodriguez. It seems too coincidental to not be related.”

  “Are you nervous? I mean, do you think someone is after you?”

  “Thanks for putting that thought in my head,” Chloe said dryly, and took a gulp of wine.

  “Oh!” Mallory blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  Chloe laughed. “I was teasing. That was already in my head. But no, I don’t think someone is out to get me. I think I’ve just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rather, wrong places.”

  “Do you think someone wanted to kill Bill because of his association with a high-profile case? That Randall, what’s his face? That’s what John was telling me the other night.”

  Other night? When did she see him the other night? Chloe wondered, though it’s not like she knew everything Mallory did. It just seemed that way because she was so chatty.

  “So do other faculty members,” Mallory added quickly, and unless it was strictly Chloe’s imagination working overtime, her friend seemed flustered that she’d made a mention of nighttime talking to John. Did they have something going on? She was single, and he was divorced and also single, so it wasn’t like some taboo thing. Though they wouldn’t be the people she’d expect to be together, there would be nothing wrong with them having a relationship. Why wouldn’t Mallory just tell her?

  “Maybe it was a student who didn’t like his grade? There are any number of possibilities.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—” Mallory stopped, realizing Chloe was teasing.

  “In all seriousness, I don’t know, Mallory. Tell me, is there something going on with you and John?” She decided to change the subject with a blunt question of her own. Talking about something else other than all these bad things would be nice.

  Mallory turned a bright shade of red and averted her eyes.

  “There is!” Chloe exclaimed.

  Mallory nodded sheepishly.

  “Why are you keeping it a secret?”

  “I don’t know. At first, I wanted to make sure it was going to last, and now, I guess it’s just become a habit.”

  “Wait a minute. How long have you two been involved?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “A year! Wow! Does Dean Ziegler know?”

  “Yes, he does. We had to disclose it. Fraternization policy and all, and Kate knows. She figured it out somehow and asked. Some others may suspect, but no one else has said anything.”

  “Does Paul know?” Chloe asked.

  “I don’t think so, but I guess he might. Why?”

  “I overheard them arguing at the faculty mixer. Thought maybe they were arguing over you.”

  Mallory looked puzzled. “I doubt that. Who knows what they were arguing about. Those two are always going at it about something. There’s no love lost between them.”

  “So, is it serious? The thing with you and John, I mean?” Chloe asked.

  “I think so. I want it to be. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with him, but I try to be patient.”

  “That’s not always an easy task,” Chloe said.

  “No, it’s not,” Mallory agreed. “What about you? Any special man in your life?” she asked, refilling their wineglasses from the bottle sitting on the coffee table.

  “Thanks,” Chloe said for the refill. “No one certain person for a while. I thought I had met someone with potential last year, but that fizzled pretty quickly. Now, I just want to focus on my work. Hopefully, the right guy will come along eventually.”

  “I think you could get a date with the handsome detective,” Mallory said, back to teasing.

  “That’s the last distraction I need right now.”

  “Is that your phone vibrating?” Mallory said. “I hear a noise, and it’s not mine.” She pointed to the table, where hers were sitting silent.

  Chloe jumped up and ran over to where she had left her phone on the kitchen counter, hoping it was Jack with news of her apartment. It would be nice to sleep in her own bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Can I speak to Chloe?” a strange but pleasant male voice asked.

  “This is she,” Chloe said, wondering who was calling her this late at night.

  “Hi. Sorry to call so late. This is Brian White. My boss, Harry, said you wanted to
talk to me about Bill Peterson?”

  Brian from Smitty’s. She was happy he had called her back. “Yes, I’m so glad you called me. I know this might sound strange, but I was hoping you might have observed something last Sunday about Bill Peterson that maybe was unusual or stuck out to you.”

  There was silence on the other end, and Chloe wondered if Brian had thought she was a nut job and had hung up. But then she heard him clear his throat.

  “I don’t know. He had been more talkative than usual, going on and on about the guy he was defending. Normally, he was quiet. Kept to himself.”

  Darn, Chloe thought, she already knew that.

  “You know, there is one thing—”

  “Yes?” she said excitedly, interrupting him.

  “He never came in with anyone. He was always by himself, at least on the days I worked. We even joked about it once. He said he preferred the company of Jack and Jim and no one else. The whiskey,” Brian said, clarifying. “But last Sunday he had a visitor. Someone I’d never seen in our bar before came in and sat down with him. Bill didn’t look all that happy about it, but I didn’t think anything of it. Bill wasn’t normally a jovial guy.”

  “Do you remember what this guy looked like?” Chloe asked.

  Brian thought for a few seconds. “He was average, about my height, brown hair. Had on a basketball hat, Spencer Cardinals, and a black jacket of some sort. Not a big guy, but not skinny either. Like I said, just average.”

  It wasn’t much help, but it was something. “So, how tall are you?”

  Brian laughed. “Oops, I’m five eleven. I forgot we hadn’t met.”

  “No problem. I just appreciate you calling me.”

  “All right. Have a good one, and stop in for a beer on me if you’re ever in the area.”

  “Hey, thanks,” Chloe said, and hung up.

  “Who was that?” Mallory asked as soon as Chloe was off the phone.

  “Just a guy. No one important,” Chloe said, not wanting to drag Mallory into things.

  “Oh.” Mallory’s face fell.