What To Do About Wednesday

by Jennie Marts

  Especially Cassie, the woman who’d taken her in and treated her like a daughter when her own mother had left her on her doorstep and rode off on the back of a motorcycle with a tattooed biker named Spider.

  Piper wasn’t much of a crier, and she’d been holding it pretty much together until she saw Cassie, and her aunt folded her into her arms. Then the floodgates opened, and Piper sobbed into her shoulder, clutching Cassie’s mom-sweater in her fists.

  Her plus-sized aunt often complained about the few extra pounds she carried, but Piper thought the extra weight just made her aunt a better hugger, and she loved the way she could sink into the comfort of Cassie’s arms.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Cassie asked.

  Piper nodded into her chest. “I’m fine. But Brittany isn’t. She’s dead.”

  “I know. Mac told me when he called.”

  “You must have been so scared,” Sunny said, throwing her arms around both of them.

  “How did she die?” Edna asked, huffing up behind Sunny and joining in the group hug. “I’ve heard the suicide rate is higher for college kids these days.”

  “She didn’t kill herself,” Piper explained. Not unless she suffocated herself. “She was murdered.”

  “Oh no,” Cassie cried, squeezing her tighter. “Mac didn’t tell us that.”

  Edna peered over Piper’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I just came home and find her lying on the floor. She had a plastic bag wrapped around her head and scratch marks on her throat. L-l-like she’d been trying to claw the bag away.”

  The memory of her face and her red-rimmed bloodshot eyes flashed through Piper’s mind, and bile threatened to rise to her throat again. She swallowed. “I called 911, but she was already dead when I found her.”

  “Oh honey,” Sunny said, rubbing her back.

  Edna had already inched toward the door. “I’ll just see if I can find out anything more.” After watching copious amounts of crime television and reading numerous murder mysteries, the elderly woman considered herself a bit of an amateur sleuth. And the scent of a murder had her craning her neck and bouncing on her orthopedic shoe-covered toes to get inside.

  “Edna, no. Let the police—” Cassie said, but her words fell on deaf ears because Edna had already snuck through the front door.

  A few minutes later, she was hustled back out again by the familiar detective.

  Mac had a scowl on his face and a firm grip on the geriatric Nancy Drew’s arm. “No, Edna, you cannot spend a few minutes studying the crime scene,” he was saying. “Although I appreciate your enthusiasm, I don’t want you compromising anything the real police actually need to see.”

  Edna huffed and pulled her arm from his grip. She smoothed her cap of silvery-white curls. “Well, excuse me. I was just trying to help.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She ignored Mac and put an arm around Piper. “I’m so sorry, honey. You must have been so scared to find her like that.”

  Piper nodded, swallowing at the tightness in her throat.

  “And I’m pretty sure she’s wearing your sweater.”

  “She is.”

  “I wouldn’t plan on getting that back.” Edna leaned closer. “And it didn’t really do anything for the outfit. It matched her shirt, but those green tights were hideous.”

  “All right,” Mac said, pulling a notebook from his pocket. “Besides her unattractive hosiery,” he paused to narrow his eyes at Edna, “can you tell me anything else about what happened? I need to know who her friends were, what her day looked like today, was she expecting any visitors, that sort of thing.”

  Another police car pulled up, and Mac waved two officers inside, letting them know he was getting the statement from the witness.

  Piper sank down on the front steps again. “I don’t know. We’ve only been roommates a few weeks. It seemed like she was friends with everyone. We go to the same college, and we both started classes today.”

  “On a Wednesday?”

  Piper nodded. The day had seemed so special—so many firsts—too special for an average Wednesday in the middle of the week. “We start on the date rather than the day,” she explained. “College isn’t like high school.” Although she wished for a moment she could be back in high school, back in Cassie’s guest room, with her cousins down the hall and the delicious scent of whatever Cassie was baking wafting through the house.

  But that wasn’t the case. Because now not only was she in college, but she was also involved in an actual case, a murder case.

  “I can check on her class schedule,” Mac said, making another note in his book.

  Edna inched closer, stretching her neck to peer at his notepad.

  He gave her a look, then shielded the pad. “What about close friends or a boyfriend?”

  “Yeah, she had a boyfriend. Kyle. I’m not sure of his last name. But I could find out. She told me they’d been dating since high school. I’ve only met him a few times. But she said they’d been having some trouble lately, and she told him she needed some space to get settled and start classes.”

  Tears clouded her vision, and she dropped her head into her hands. “This is so unfair. She had everything going for her. Her life was just starting.”

  Cassie sat on the steps next to her and rubbed a hand across her back. “I know, sweetie. It is unfair.”

  “How about the grocery sack? Does it have any significance to you?” Mac continued with his inquiry. “We’re trying to determine if it was already in the apartment or if the assailant brought it with him. It was from the Spend Thrift. Is that a store where you normally shop?”

  Piper shook her head. “No. Never. I don’t have a car, and it’s all the way across town. And Cassie doesn’t shop there either, so I’m sure it wasn’t mine. It could have been Brittany’s, but I doubt it. We only had a few plastic sacks, and we kept them in a bin in the pantry. But as far as I remember, they were all the white ones from the Price Right down the street.”

  Mac asked her about a million more questions, but she didn’t have a whole lot to tell him. She promised to write down anything else she could think of and let him know if something new came to her.

  Mac snapped his notebook closed. “I’m sorry, kid, but you’re not going to be able to stay here until we’ve cleared the scene.”

  “It’s fine,” Cassie said. “You can stay with me.”

  “But what about my books and my clothes? And how am I supposed to get to campus? I still have to go to class. And to work.” Piper had started a job at a local coffee shop a few blocks from her apartment. She’d only been there a few weeks, but it had worked perfectly for her since she didn’t have a car.

  “I can go in with you, and we’ll see if we can let you grab a few clothes and your textbooks, but otherwise, we’ll need the apartment until we can make sure we’ve collected all the evidence. I’ll let you know when it’s okay for you to move back in.”

  Piper sighed. Her day had started out with such promise. Her future was bright and unfolding in front of her. Now it felt like she was taking a step backwards—letting go of her new home and moving back in with Cassie.

  It’s only temporary, she reminded herself. And if she were being honest, she wasn’t too excited to go back into the apartment just yet anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to stay at Cassie’s a bit and let the image of her murdered roommate sprawled out on the floor fade a little.

  Although she wasn’t sure that image would ever fade from her memory.

  She glanced around at the Page Turners. “Thanks so much for showing up. I really needed you guys.” Who needed a therapist when she had the Page Turners?

  Edna reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’re always here for you, honey. I’m just sorry this happened to you. You have so many exciting things to look forward to and your week should have been wonderful. You should be focused on classes and making new friends. Instead, your hump day just turned homicidal.”

  Three weeks
later, Piper finally returned to her apartment.

  The police had cleared it the week before, but it took a few days for Piper to feel comfortable spending the night there alone. Cassie had gone over with her a few days before and packed up Brittany’s things, then her parents had picked them up the day after the funeral.

  The service itself had been packed, and Cassie and Edna had attended with Piper. Cassie had gone as support, and Edna had claimed that’s why she was attending as well, but she also kept a sharp eye on the other attendees, declaring the killer often showed up at the funeral.

  It gave Piper the willies to think she could be in the same room as Brittany’s killer.

  It also gave her chills each time she walked into the apartment and couldn’t keep from staring at the spot where Brittany’s body had lain.

  She was grateful Edna had given her a ride over today and offered to come in with her. She would eventually have to get over it, but for now, she was thankful for the company.

  “I’ve got your purse and the cookies if you can grab your backpack and that duffel bag,” Edna told her, balancing Piper’s purse on the tub of treats as she pushed the car door closed with her hip.

  “Got it,” Piper said, hefting the backpack and duffel, then plucked her purse off the tub and dropped the cross-body bag over her shoulder. She led the way up the sidewalk and into the house, digging in her pocket for the keys.

  But for the second time in as many weeks, her heart jumped to her throat as she noticed the door to her apartment stood slightly ajar.

  She stopped in her tracks and reached for Edna’s arm, motioning to the older woman to stay quiet.

  They took a few steps closer. Edna’s eyes widened as a thump sounded from the other side of the door. “There’s someone in there,” she whispered.

  “Should we call the police?”

  Edna shook her head then reached into the front of her shirt and pulled a portable can of Mace from her bra. Edna was famous for the items she produced from her brassiere, often using the wardrobe piece as more of a purse than an article of clothing. “You push open the door, and I’ll be ready to squirt the spray.”

  It didn’t sound like the best plan in the world, but it was the only plan they had, and Piper set down the duffel bag and backpack and tip-toed to the door. She turned to Edna and mouthed, “Ready?”

  The other woman had set the cookies on the duffel bag and held the Mace at arm’s length in front of her. “Ready.”

  Piper burst through the door, and it slammed open, banging against the wall and startling the man kneeling on the floor and running his hand over the floor where Brittany’s body had been.

  “Hold it right there, Mister,” Edna hissed. “I’ve got this Mace trained right on you, and I know how to use it.”

  The man raised his arms above his head. “Now hold on. There’s no reason to use it at all.”

  “Who are you? What are you doing in here?” Piper fired questions at him.

  Edna kept the can pointed his direction. “Did you kill that young girl?”

  “What? No, of course not. My name is Lester Grimley. I’m the handyman for the apartment complex. The landlord asked me to come in and make sure the apartment and the floor was okay. You know, after the…incident.”

  Edna narrowed her eyes. “Do you have any ID? Some kind of work badge?”

  The handyman was probably in his late fifties or early sixties, shots of gray peppering his otherwise brown hair. Even crouched on the floor, it was evident he was a tall man. He wore a faded red T-shirt and tan Dickies work pants, the hems scuffed and torn from wear. His body was lean and his arms were corded with muscles.

  He looked strong enough to easily strangle a petite college co-ed.

  Or overpower her similarly built roommate and her elderly companion.

  Piper scanned the room for any evidence of foul play. Nothing seemed amiss. Besides the strange man in the middle of the room, and a small red and black tool bag on the counter. Piper kept one hand on the front door as she tried to peer into the bag looking for…what? A collection of plastic grocery sacks?

  Why did her roomie have to get murdered by something as ordinary and common as a grocery bag? Couldn’t the murderer have chosen something more original—and easier to implicate him with—than an item found in almost every home in America?

  Ugh. What was wrong with her? She’d been hanging out with Edna too long. And they’d spent the last few weeks speculating on the murder. No wonder she was seeing danger in every corner, and handyman, and criticizing the uninspired methods of a murderer.

  “I’m watching you,” Edna told the man. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”

  He rolled his eyes as he slowly reached in his back pocket and produced a flattened leather wallet that he tossed toward them.

  Piper grabbed it and flipped it open to reveal his ID. She scanned it quickly then held it out to Edna. “It says his name is Lester Grimley, and he lives on Fourth Street, which is just a few blocks from here.”

  “It also says I have brown eyes and brown hair. And I think I’ve got about fourteen bucks and a sandwich coupon in there. Satisfied?” His right eye had the slightest twitch.

  It unnerved Piper. Like it was a ‘tell’ that he was lying. But what in that sentence was there to lie about? That his hair color was different or that the coupon was really for pizza instead of a sandwich.

  What if he had something to hide in his wallet? Like a fake ID. Or what if he had a condom tucked into his wallet? Ew. She dropped the wallet on the kitchen counter as if it were hot and had just burned her fingers. She didn’t want to know.

  Edna shrugged and lowered the Mace. “Are you about finished here?”

  He dropped his hands and pushed himself up, rubbing his knee as he stood. “Yeah. This was my last task of the day.” He eyed Piper with a raised eyebrow. “Unless you have something else I can do for you.”

  Piper bristled, an eerie chill racing up her back. What an odd way to phrase the question. She took a step back. “No, I’m good. Except I guess for the window.” She gestured to the side wall of the apartment. “Did you fix the loose latch?”

  Mac had mentioned they needed to get that taken care of. They still weren’t sure how the killer had gotten into the apartment.

  Lester shook his head. “Not yet. I need to pick up a new latch at the hardware store. I’ll come back later this week to install it.”

  “Just make sure you call ahead this time,” Edna instructed.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stuffed his wallet back into his pocket, picked up his tool bag and ambled out the front door.

  Piper closed the door behind him, noticing the way he walked with the slightest limp. She turned to Edna. “Was it just me or was that guy a little creepy?”

  “A little? I feel like I need to wash my hands.” Edna pushed the Mace back into her blouse and came out with a small container of hand sanitizer. She squirted a smidge into her hands, then held the bottle out to Piper.

  She shook her head. “I’m good.” Not that she didn’t appreciate the offer of a sanitary cleanser which had just come out of her friend’s bra, but she was going to pass this time around.

  “Suit yourself.” Edna looked around the apartment, taking time to study the spot on the floor where Lester had just been kneeling, while Piper brought in the rest of her things from the hall. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right by yourself here, honey? I could stay a bit if you’d like. Or even sleep over. It could be fun, like a slumber party.”

  “No. I’ll be fine. I have to stay by myself eventually. Might as well start tonight.” In truth, she would be happy to have the other woman’s company, but she needed to put her big girl panties on and suck it up and every other stupid cliché she could think of that would offer her the bravery she needed to spend the night in the apartment alone.

  “Any luck on finding a new roommate?”

  “Not yet. I think most people already moved into their housing before classes sta
rted or they’re freaked out about moving into an apartment where the last renter was murdered. Although I didn’t put that particular piece of information in the ad.”

  “Smart.”

  “Whatever it is, I haven’t had even a single call to ask about the place.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll happen. The right roommate is out there.”

  The next morning, Piper stuffed a granola bar in her mouth then grabbed her backpack and pulled the door closed behind her. She rattled the doorknob, confirming it was firmly shut before heading down the hall and out the front door.

  A soft whining sound stopped her as she tramped down the stairs, and her pulse raced at the thought of the killer hiding under the stairs.

  She swallowed, then took a deep breath and cautiously peered over the railing.

  A wide front porch wrapped around the Victorian, and Piper braced herself to run or scream if a crazed murderer came into view.

  She let out her breath as she spied a small scruffy dog cowering under the floor of the porch. Its brown and beige fur was matted and dirty, and by the visible outline of its ribs, it looked like it couldn’t weigh more than ten pounds.

  Poor little thing. He must be starving.

  Already forgetting the threat of the crazed killer, she pulled the granola bar from her mouth and held it out to it. “Hey there, little pup. You look like you could use this more than me.”

  The dog tentatively leaned forward and took a small sniff, then shrank back against the wooden post supporting the porch.

  “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She broke off a piece of the granola bar and tossed it gently toward it.

  She didn’t have time for this. She had to get to work. Her shift started in ten minutes, but she couldn’t just leave it there.

  The dog looked from her to the granola bar, then ran forward, grabbed the offered bite and raced back under the safety of the porch.

  At least that was something. And about all she could do now. If it was still there when she got home, she’d bring it something more. She tossed it the rest of the snack bar and hurried up the sidewalk toward the coffee shop.