by MJ Rodgers
“I told Katlyn never to disturb her father when his study door was closed. I explained to her it meant he was trying to concentrate and it would make him very angry to be interrupted. But kids being kids...”
“Go on.”
Nancy’s gloved hands began to twist around each other as though their cloth protection wasn’t enough to keep them warm.
“I thought she was playing with her dolls in her room. I took the time to retreat to our bedroom to wrap her Christmas toys. Suddenly, I heard her screaming. I ran out of the bedroom. The door to Dole’s study was open. She was inside. Dole had her by the arms and was shaking her.”
Nancy choked on a small sob. Brett took her shaking hands into his and held firm until she continued.
“I was so shocked, so scared, I stood there frozen. It was Ronald who came running and pulled Katlyn away from his father. He handed her to me, and I carried her back to the bedroom to pack. All I could think of was leaving with my baby.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Dole came in a moment later. He said he was sorry that he’d lost his temper. He explained that he had looked up suddenly to see Katlyn sitting on the floor in his study, playing with some very sharp scissors. He thought she was going to poke herself in the eye with them. He grabbed them out of her hands. Yelled at her to never pick them up again. He didn’t mean to shake her so hard. He didn’t mean to hurt her, Brett.”
“Had he ever laid hands on her before? The truth, Nancy.”
His aunt’s eyes rose to his. “No. Never. That’s why this was so surprising to me.”
“Nancy, are you sure?”
“Do you think I would have stayed with him if he had? This was an accident, a one-time thing. His fear for how she could have hurt herself caused him to overreact. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. I tell you, it would never have happened again.”
Brett was not nearly so sure. He was bothered by the scene his aunt had described. Very bothered.
“Nancy, why did you marry Dole?”
“Why? Well, what a question. Because he asked me. Because I wanted to.”
“You could have done so much better.”
Nancy laughed without any mirth. “Brett, I was a big, gawky woman going on forty. Believe me, men weren’t sending me candy and flowers. Dole offered me marriage and a home. Okay, he wasn’t Prince Charming; but, remember, I wasn’t Cinderella. We accepted who we were. We understood we had to make do.”
Make do. The very same words he had used when he described his own relationships with women less than two weeks before. Hard to find fault with his aunt when he, too, had set up his expectations to accept make-do relationships. No, not just to accept them, to seek them out.
His eyes once again went to Octavia. Had it really been less than two weeks since that outrageous redhead had come into his life?
“It’s only fair I get to ask now,” Nancy said. “You were so in love with Danette. What happened, Brett?”
Brett faced his aunt. “I found out her beauty was only surface, only a fantasy.”
“I know she did wrong in smuggling that dope. But how could you turn her in, loving her like you did?”
“When I caught her, she admitted she’d been smuggling dope for years. Not because she was an addict or really needed the money. She was just greedy. When I tried to talk to her about the terrible impact of dope on its victims, she laughed at me. That’s when I realized I had married a stranger—an ugly stranger—and the only way I could stop her was to turn her in.”
Nancy rested her hand on Brett’s arm, in a gesture of both understanding and comfort.
A hefty young woman with an anxious look ambled up to Brett and his aunt. She stopped hesitantly in front of Nancy.
“Mrs. Scroogen, I’m sorry to bring this up now but will... will anything change about the job?”
“I don’t know, Tami. Ronald and I will need to discuss it. Brett, have you met Tami Lammock, Dole’s secretary?”
When Brett indicated he hadn’t, Nancy performed the introductions. Brett motioned for Octavia to join them.
When she reached them, Brett introduced her to Tami, all the while noticing that Nancy barely looked at Octavia. Despite his assurances to the contrary, he could tell that Nancy, like everyone else, was convinced Mab was guilty.
“I need to join Ronald and Katlyn,” Nancy said. “I’ll see you later, Brett?”
“I’ll be by,” he promised.
“Are you working for Ronald now?” Octavia asked Tami as soon as Nancy had walked off in the direction of a waiting limousine.
“It’s hard to tell what’s going on. Dole never really let his son do much. I think Ronald is kind of lost. He may not want me to stay. Dole only hired me a month ago as a temporary, part-time secretary. I was lucky to get the job.”
“Why do you say that, Mrs. Lammock?” Brett asked.
“My husband is in the navy, temporarily assigned to the Bremerton Shipyard. He could be reassigned at any time. We have a girl in first grade and a boy in third. Dole was the only employer willing to let me work just the mornings so I could be home in time to be with my kids.”
And Dole got an employee he didn’t have to offer a medical plan, vacation or holiday pay, Brett added mentally to himself.
“What do you remember about the threatening letters that Dole received, Tami?” Octavia asked.
“There were three of them. All in the same silver envelopes. All with a photocopy of Dole’s business card glued on the front. They were delivered by the post office carrier. Dole showed me and his son what was inside the first two after he opened them. Ronald thought they were a joke, but Dole took them seriously right away. He had me get the police on the phone to report them and the telephone threat he had received earlier.”
“When did he receive the telephone threat?” Octavia asked.
“The afternoon before the first letter. He received another threatening call at home, as well as two more at work.”
“Tell us what you remember about the voice behind the threatening telephone calls, Tami,” Octavia urged.
“Oh, I never heard it myself. The calls at work came in the afternoon when I was home. But Dole did tell me about each one of them the next day.”
“What did he say?”
“That it was the same person, always warning him to hand over the center to the seniors, or else. He said the voice sounded like Mab Osborne’s, only a little muffled as though she were trying to disguise who she was.”
“Had he heard Mab’s voice over the phone?” Brett asked.
“She called the first week I came to work for Dole. She was quite pleasant to me. Identified herself as Dole’s tenant. Said she had business to discuss with him. I put her through.
“A few moments later, Dole came charging out of his office to tell me that I was never to put a call through from her or anyone else again without first asking him. He was very angry.”
“He said nothing about Mab making any threats to him on that call?” Brett asked.
“No. But it was pretty clear whatever she had to say hadn’t pleased him. I’m sorry about your grandmother, Ms. Osborne. I have a grandmother her age, and it’s still hard for me to believe such an elderly lady would commit such a violent crime.”
“Me, too, Tami,” Octavia said.
“Mrs. Lammock, something has been puzzling me,” Brett said. “According to the police report, my uncle was struck on his shoulder, the wound tearing his shirt. Why wasn’t he wearing his suit coat? It was a very cold December morning.”
“Oh, he never wore his suit coat while he drove, Mr. Merlin. Said it was too restricting.”
“Didn’t he normally put his coat on before coming into the office?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t wearing it that...morning. He must have taken it off after being attacked.”
“Tami, do you know of anyone who was angry enough at your boss to want to cause him harm?” Octavia asked.
Tami turned her attention toward
the limousine that was just pulling away from the curb in back of them. An intent look drew her eyebrows together as she looked at the three people in the back of the limousine—Nancy, Ronald and Katlyn Scroogen.
“Dole wasn’t very nice to his son. I always felt kind of bad about that. I understand Ronald is going to end up owning half the business.”
“Do you think Dole’s own son might have—”
“Of course I really don’t know anything, Ms. Osborne,” Tami interrupted quickly. “I have to go now.”
And with that, she all but ran to her small gray Tercel parked at the far end of the curb.
“So she suspects Ronald,” Octavia said.
Before Brett could comment, he heard his name being called. He turned to find Detective Sergeant Patterson approaching. The detective nodded in Octavia’s direction before addressing Brett.
“I see I just missed your aunt again. I’d hoped to catch her this morning. We’ve played an exhausting round of telephone tag the last couple of days. I’ve been trying to return her husband’s effects to her. Why don’t you take these off my hands and see that she gets them.”
Patterson pulled a manila envelope out of his breast pocket and an itemized, typed list of its contents on a piece of paper. He handed both to Brett. Brett read through the short list.
“This is all?” Brett asked.
“Yes. Just his keys and some loose change. His driver’s license, money and credit cards were all in his wallet.”
“Which was where?”
“In his suit coat pocket, locked in the car.”
“Had the coat been torn?”
“No. Apparently he wasn’t wearing it when he was attacked. If you’ll sign this for me, we can make the transfer official.”
“Do you know why he left his suit coat in the car that morning?” Brett asked.
“He probably just forgot to take it with him when he got out of the car.”
Brett glanced inside the envelope. Something immediately caught his eye. He pulled out the keychain, separating the distinctive silver-plated key from the rest.
“Sergeant Patterson, do you know what this key fits?”
“No. We had no reason to check his keys.”
“It’s identical to Mab’s key to the storeroom at the back of the greenhouse,” Octavia said. “It even has the Do Not Duplicate warning on it. Scroogen had a key to the storeroom!”
“So?” Patterson asked.
“How did he get it?” Brett asked.
“Does it matter?” Patterson asked.
“Yes. If Scroogen had a key, then someone other than Mab and the seniors could have used his key to gain access to the storeroom and take her gardening gloves and tool, as well as the Silver Power League stationery.”
“Douglas ordered the keys, Sergeant,” Octavia said. “Can’t you at least have a talk with him?”
“All right,” Patterson said, sounding clearly coerced. “Never let it be said that I didn’t follow up a lead.”
* * *
“YES, OF COURSE I KNEW Scroogen had a key,” Douglas said as they all stood in the hallway of the Twitches’ home. “He was our landlord. When we had the new buildings constructed, naturally we had to give him one.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before when we asked you who had a key to the storeroom?” Octavia asked.
“Because you didn’t ask me that question,” Douglas replied. “You asked me if the members of the executive committee were the only members of the Silver Power League to have a key, and I told you yes. I just naturally assumed you knew that Scroogen had one, too. Why is this key he had such a big deal?”
“Because it means the person who took the stationery to send Scroogen those threats and Mab’s cultivator to attack him needn’t be anyone associated with the League at all,” Brett said.
“You’re saying someone else wrote those letters demanding Scroogen give us the center?” Douglas asked. “Someone other than Mab attacked him? But who would do that? And why?”
* * *
“DOUGLAS’S QUESTIONS ARE good ones, Octavia,” Brett said. “If someone else did write those notes to Dole and then later struck him with Mab’s cultivator, what was the motive?”
“It had to be to throw the blame on the seniors,” Octavia said, walking between Brett and Sergeant Patterson as they headed back to their cars in front of the Twitches’ home.
“We know that Scroogen wasn’t an ethical man. Maybe this was someone who was trying to get back at him and using your uncle’s feud with the seniors as cover to do it.”
“You’re forgetting that whoever did this had to have had access to Dole’s key to the center. What I do know about my uncle does not lead me to believe that he would willingly let anyone have access to his keys.”
“Look, folks,” Sergeant Patterson said. “This has all been interesting. But just because Scroogen had a key, that doesn’t mean someone used it.”
“Sergeant,” Octavia said, “when Ronald recanted his seeing my grandmother strike his father, he said he was meeting an employee at a job site, right?”
“Right.”
“Were you able to verify he was at that site?”
“Well, no. The employee he was supposed to talk to didn’t arrive.”
“So you don’t know where Ronald really was when his father was attacked.”
“What are you suggesting, Ms. Osborne?”
“I’m suggesting Ronald could have gained access to his father’s keys, inasmuch as he lived in the same household.”
“It’s a point to consider,” Brett added.
“All right,” Patterson said. “For the sake of argument, let’s say that Ronald did somehow get the key to the storeroom off his father’s key chain. I’ll even go a step further and say he could have stolen the Silver Power League stationery and used it to send his father threatening letters, pretending they were from the seniors. Why?”
“So later he could kill his father and blame it on the seniors,” Octavia said. “Tami Lammock told us this morning that Dole didn’t treat Ronald well.”
“It’s true,” Brett said. “I saw evidence of that myself.”
“Tami Lammock also told us Ronald is inheriting half the business now that Dole is gone,” Octavia added.
Sergeant Patterson frowned. “You’re saying Ronald killed his father because he was mistreated and wanted to inherit?”
“He had opportunity, means, and yes, I think the motive is there.”
“If it is Ronald, he’s been very clever about it, Sergeant,” Brett added. “From the first he’s made it appear as though the seniors—and specifically Mab—were behind both the calls and threatening letters. So when something did finally happen to his father, everyone would look to them to blame.”
“I’m not saying I’m buying any of this,” Patterson said, rubbing his mustache. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask Ronald some questions.”
“We’ll come with you,” Brett said.
* * *
“RONALD’S NOT HERE,” Nancy said as she stepped aside for them to enter her home.
“Where is he, Mrs. Scroogen?” Sergeant Patterson asked.
“He’s running a few errands. What is it? Is something wrong?”
Brett took his aunt’s arm and led her into the living room where Katlyn sat on the carpet cutting out paper dolls with a pair of blunt scissors.
“Hi, Brett,” his little cousin said as she flashed him a smile.
“Hi, Katlyn,” he responded before turning back to Nancy.
“Sergeant Patterson wants to ask Ronald about Dole’s key to the storeroom in back of the Silver Power League’s greenhouse.”
“What key?” Nancy asked as she sat across from Brett.
Brett nodded toward Katlyn. “You may want her to play elsewhere for a while, Nancy,” he suggested softly.
“There is something wrong, isn’t there?” Nancy asked, immediately shooting forward in her seat. “Brett, you must tell me what’s going
on.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Brett could see his cousin’s head rise at the sound of her mother’s worried tone. He also saw Octavia immediately move over to the little girl and sit down on the carpet next to her.
“Hi, Katlyn, I’m Octavia. What is it you’re cutting out there?”
“I’m making Santa a helper so he can answer all the letters he gets.”
“That’s a very good idea. But is one helper enough?”
“Oh, no. There are too many letters from boys and girls. I’ve made lots of Santa helpers. Some of them are in my room answering letters. Do you want to see?”
“I’d love to.”
Octavia winked at Brett as she accompanied Katlyn to her bedroom, getting the little girl out of earshot. Brett eased Nancy back onto the couch and sat beside her.
“You think Ronald did it, don’t you?” Nancy asked in a tone filled with the same kind of panic that had entered her eyes.
“Mrs. Scroogen,” Sergeant Patterson began, “we are just trying to get the facts. Now, I understand that the relationship between Ronald and his father was not always an easy one, is that correct?”
Nancy began to rub her hands together nervously. Her voice picked up a defensive note. “Like all fathers and sons, they had their disagreements.”
“Did Ronald know he would inherit half the business on the death of his father?”
“Well, yes. Of course he knew. Just as I knew I would inherit the other half. Brett, it means nothing.”
“Tami says Dole never let Ronald do anything around the office. Maybe Ronald thought it was time he was given a chance.”
“No, no. Ronald wouldn’t... I know it hurt him when his father ignored him so much and belittled his efforts. But it was just Dole’s way. He wasn’t a very...sensitive man. Ronald still admired his father. He still tried to please him.”
“Was he successful?”
Nancy shook her head vehemently. “No, no. What you’re suggesting can’t be true. He never would have hurt his father, Brett. Not his own father.”
“Are you sure, Nancy?” Brett asked, making his voice as gentle as possible.
Nancy rolled into a ball and began to rock back and forth. “No, please. No. Don’t take Ronald away from me, too.”
