“No,” her mother laughed. Then she smiled her weird smile again. “Parker’s a keeper.”
“I know,” Clarissa agreed.
“Even your father likes him. And your father doesn’t – ooh, doorbell! Speaking of people your father doesn’t like, that will be Betty. We’re going to Stitch and Complain in the living room.”
“Huh?”
“We’re going to Stitch and Complain,” Constance repeated herself. “It’s a thing.”
“It is a thing, but that’s not what it’s called,” Clarissa pointed out. “It’s Stitch and Bit –”
“I know what it’s called!” her mother snapped, cutting her off. “Stitch and Complain sounds much nicer. Do you want to join us?”
“I think I’ll pass,” Clarissa said, wrinkling her nose.
Then it occurred to her that it would be a perfect opportunity to pick Betty’s brain. The woman seemed to know a lot of things about a lot of people, and she loved to gossip. Who better to cozy up to than the neighborhood busybody?
So reluctantly, Clarissa agreed to join in on the Stitch and Complain. With any luck, she could steer the conversation toward Bobby Bates. Considering Betty’s hatred of him, Clarissa didn’t think that would be too hard to do.
Chapter 13
“We have a problem,” Clarissa announced an hour later.
“We have multiple problems,” Parker corrected her as he emerged from her father’s study.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her heart sinking. “Did my dad refuse to learn anything?”
“No, that’s not the issue,” Parker replied, looking somewhat dazed. “Your father took to email like a fish in water. It was quite impressive, really. The problem was when spam emails started rolling in. He thinks a Nigerian prince needs his help accessing an offshore bank account.”
“Oh no,” Clarissa groaned. “Did you tell him it’s a scam?”
“Oh yes,” Parker nodded. “I told him that repeatedly. He didn’t believe me.”
“He’s stubborn.”
“Like father, like daughter?” Parker quipped.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What do we do now?” Clarissa wondered.
“I’m not sure. I was hoping maybe you could hide your father’s wallet until your mother has a chance to talk to him?” Parker suggested. “He also wants to buy a fake Rolex. He’s convinced it’s the real thing, on sale for a steal of a deal.”
Clarissa shook her head in dismay. “Oh, Dad…”
“What did your father do this time?” her mother demanded as she walked by.
“Is Betty gone?” Clarissa asked, peering toward the living room.
“Yes. What has your father done?” Constance asked again.
“He’s trying to buy random junk on the Internet. Like fake Rolexes, for example. Oh, and he thinks a Nigerian prince is emailing him,” Clarissa explained. “Can you talk to him before he gets ripped off?”
Pursing her lips in dismay, Constance nodded. “I’ll talk some sense into him,” she vowed. “We de-cluttered when we moved to Florida. I’m not about to let him fill this house up with useless junk the way he did in Minnesota!”
With that, Constance rolled up her sleeves and marched into the study, clearly on a mission.
“I feel like I opened a real can of worms,” Parker whispered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Clarissa assured him. “This is just how my dad is.”
“You said we have a problem,” Parker recalled. “What’s the matter?”
“I just spend the past hour sitting in the living room with my mother and her friend Betty. My dad was right about Betty. She might be okay in small doses, but after a while she becomes unbearable to listen to! But now I’m confused.”
“Why?”
“I was almost positive Sue killed Bobby,” Clarissa explained. “I was practically ready to march over to her house and call her out on it. But then I steered the conversation to Sue. Of course, Betty was more than happy to gossip about her. That woman is almost as bad as the rumor mill back home.”
“What did she say?”
“Apparently medications have gone missing from the hospital on Sue’s watch before.”
Parker’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!” he exclaimed. “That’s the evidence we need! If she’s stolen prescriptions before, it makes sense that she would do it again!” He paused when he saw Clarissa’s grim expression. “Isn’t this good news? Why don’t you look pleased?”
“Hospital administration suspected Sue was selling medications to fund her gambling addiction,” Clarissa explained. “They couldn’t prove anything, but they suspected it. So their solution was to limit which nurses have access to the medication room.”
Parker’s face fell. “They cut off Sue’s access?” he guessed, looking crestfallen.
Clarissa nodded. “The key is kept in a locked safe. Only the head nurses have the combination to the safe. They oversee the distribution of medication. So if Sue worked a night shift, for example, her superior would dole out the prescription meds before leaving for the night.”
Parker grimaced. “That’s terrible news. So have you ruled Sue out as a killer?”
“It’s looking less and less likely that Sue killed Bobby.”
“So now we’re back to square one?”
“Not exactly,” Clarissa replied. She took a deep breath and then admitted, “After listening to Betty go on and on about how much she hated Bobby, I couldn’t help but become suspicious.”
Parker’s jaw dropped. “You think Betty killed him?”
“I’m not sure. I’m not willing to rule her out as a suspect just yet,” Clarissa confided. “After all, Dad said she orders prescription medications online. That means Betty basically has an entire pharmacy right at her fingertips.”
“That’s true, but does she have any medical knowledge? How would she have known which drugs to give to Bobby, assuming she did kill him?” Parker asked. “It made sense when we thought Sue did it, since she’s a nurse. I don’t see that link when it comes to Betty.”
“Dad said Betty is one of the few people in the retirement community who uses the Internet,” Clarissa reminded him. “It wouldn’t have taken much searching for her to find out which pills would harm Bobby. Then she ordered them, slipped them into his pill bottle and…well, you know how it ended.”
“When would she have had the chance to slip Bobby the pills?” Parker asked.
“Bingo,” Clarissa replied immediately. “She’s a regular there, and Bobby was the caller. She definitely would have had an opportunity to tamper with his medication. And she had a motive, too. She really, really didn’t like Bobby.”
“You think she would kill someone because he turned her down?” Parker asked incredulously.
“She’s awfully hung up on Bobby’s rejection,” Clarissa pointed out.
“That’s true. Your mother is going to be so upset if Betty turns out to be a killer!”
Clarissa made a face. “I know. It seems like she and Betty are pretty good friends. She’ll be devastated if Betty is Bobby’s murderer. Don’t say anything about it to my parents yet, okay? I have to be really, really sure before I make any accusations.”
“Sure thing,” Parker agreed at once. “What are you going to do now?”
After thinking for a moment, Clarissa devised a plan. “Maybe Betty has empty pill bottles sitting around. Or failing that, maybe I can find a copy of her online pill orders. It’s a long shot, but it’s the best idea I have. So I’m going to search through Betty’s house.”
“Clarissa!” Parker exclaimed in surprise. “You can’t just break in! That’s illegal!”
“My mother has a key to Betty’s house,” Clarissa replied. “Betty is going to visit her daughter in Tampa for a couple days. Mom is supposed to water her plants for her while she’s away. So I’m going to volunteer to do it.”
“And then you’re going to snoop around?”
Clarissa shrugged. “Do
you have a better idea? If you do, I would love to hear it!”
Parker sighed. “I don’t like it, but okay. When does Betty leave town?”
“First thing tomorrow morning,” Clarissa replied with a gleam in her eye. “As soon as Betty’s car leaves her driveway, I’m heading over there to water her plants - and take a look around for anything incriminating. We don’t have any time to spare.”
“I hope we find something. Not that the end justifies the means,” Parker added.
“Maybe it does,” Clarissa replied. “I don’t like the idea of snooping around anymore than you do, but what other choice do we have? We need to gather evidence and we’re running out of time. I am determined to solve this case before we head back to Minnesota!”
“You will,” Parker assured her. “I have complete faith in you.”
“I hope you’re right,” Clarissa said doubtfully. “I really hope you’re right.”
Chapter 14
It was fair to say that Betty had her faults. According to Clarissa’s dad, Betty had a lot of faults. But she had one redeeming quality, at least in Clarissa’s books. Apparently she was an early riser. That was very convenient indeed.
Clarissa had spent a restless night periodically getting up to peer out the living room window. At the crack of dawn, Betty had walked out of her house dragging a suitcase behind her. She had loaded the suitcase into the trunk and then climbed into her cute, compact little car.
Clarissa had actually cheered when that had happened. It had been loud enough to wake up the snoozing cat, who had promptly cursed at her. Sometimes Clarissa thought it might be better if the little demon couldn’t talk.
The second Betty had backed out of the driveway Clarissa had rushed to grab the spare key to her house. Then, with Cat right on her heels, she had raced across the street to do a little sleuthing.
Now she was standing on the porch of Betty’s well-maintained little bungalow. Her heart was pounding like crazy. Even though technically she had a key, Clarissa felt like she was trespassing. Adrenaline was surging through her veins.
“Are you coming?” Clarissa whispered to Cat as she unlocked the front door.
“No, you go on without me,” her not-so-dependable lookout replied. “Something smells interesting in the trash!” With that, Cat raced toward the garbage bin at the front of the house.
“Yuck – that’s so gross!” Clarissa complained as the furry critter jumped into the uncovered trash can and began to enthusiastically tear the black plastic bag open. “Don’t do that. It’s germy. Come inside! Hurry up!”
“You’re not the boss of me,” Cat retorted.
With a sigh, Clarissa shook her head. She knew there was no point in arguing with the bullheaded feline. “Fine, do what you want. But if you stink like garbage, you’re going straight in the bathtub when we get back to my parents’ place,” she threatened.
The cat, of course, ignored her.
Clarissa stepped inside the house and looked around.
The first thing she noticed was that the layout was very similar to her parents’ house. Betty’s place was perhaps a little smaller – it was probably a one-bedroom home instead of two. But it was remarkably familiar.
The second thing Clarissa noticed was that Betty appeared to be a collector.
In the living room, every surface was covered in small, junky looking ceramic elephant figurines. There were approximately twenty stuffed animals cluttering up the back of the couch. And when Clarissa peeked into the spacious eat-in kitchen, she saw that there were approximately fifty chicken-themed wind chimes strung up around the perimeter of the room.
“Maybe collector is too mild a term. I think Betty’s a hoarder,” Clarissa mused.
But that was good news for the amateur sleuth. If Betty didn’t like to throw things out, that meant she may have left empty pill bottles lying around. Clarissa crossed her fingers that she would find something helpful. Then she made her way into the bathroom to search through the medicine cabinet.
“Whoa!” Clarissa exclaimed in surprise. Then she began to chuckle to herself. “Dad only had it half-right,” she giggled as she held up a clear plastic baggie full of a green leafy substance. “Betty does order drugs online, but I doubt they’re medicinal!”
Clarissa quickly put the bag of marijuana back and shut the medicine cabinet.
She walked into the bedroom and looked around. It was tidy but cluttered. More tacky ceramic elephant figurines greeted her, all meticulously arranged atop the night table and dresser. Then Clarissa spotted a laptop sitting on the edge of the bed, its charger wrapped neatly around it.
“Aha!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
She grabbed the laptop and plugged it in.
“Please don’t be password protected, please don’t be password protected,” she chanted as she waited for the computer to boot. She perched on the edge of the bed and waited impatiently as the login screen popped up.
Then her heart sank.
“Crap!” she exclaimed in dismay. “It wants a password!”
Scrunching up her face in concentration, Clarissa tried to guess the magic word.
“Well, ‘password’ isn’t the password,” she sighed. “Neither is ‘1234’ – too bad.”
Clarissa tried typing in a few more possibilities without luck.
She sighed in defeat. “Times like this, I wish I was a computer whiz.”
Suddenly a ringing noise filled the room.
Clarissa screamed.
Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. It was her aunt calling.
“Hi Matilda…sorry, but I can’t really talk right now,” Clarissa said.
“Wait, don’t hang up! What are you doing?” Matilda demanded. “You sound guilty.”
“I do?” Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “I’m trying to guess someone’s computer password,” she admitted. She figured she may as well tell her quirky, eccentric aunt the truth. After all, Matilda pulled stunts far worse than what Clarissa was doing on an alarmingly frequent basis!
“Want me to help?” Matilda offered.
“How can you help? I’ve already tried all the super-obvious passwords,” Clarissa replied.
“Have you tried a spell?”
Clarissa’s eyes widened. “There’s a spell for hacking into people’s computers?”
“Silly girl,” Matilda laughed. “There’s a spell for nearly everything.”
“Teach me!”
“No,” Matilda replied. “Lately you’ve had a lot of alarming side effects from performing magic. I don’t like that. Actually, when you get home from Florida I think I need to take you to see a witch doctor. Anyway, I’ll perform the spell.”
A bunch of static suddenly came over the line. That seemed strange.
“Hello? Are you still there?” Clarissa asked.
“Yes. And the password should be revealed now,” Matilda said.
Clarissa glanced at the computer screen. It looked exactly the same as before. “I don’t see it.”
“Well you have to go look for it, silly.”
“Er, okay…where?”
“I don’t know!” Matilda replied as though that was a ludicrous question. “I’m in Minnesota, Clarissa. I can’t do all the legwork for you. Go find it. It should be nearby. And don’t forget to bring me back a souvenir! Preferably of the chocolate variety! Bye-eee!”
Feeling confused, Clarissa put her phone back into her pocket and stood up. She looked around the bedroom, not quite sure what she was supposed to be searching for. Everything looked exactly the same as it had before the phone call.
“I wonder if she messed up the spell,” Clarissa whispered to herself.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time her absentminded aunt got something wrong. Matilda was excellent at performing spells when she put her mind to it, but if she was distracted it was another story entirely. And Matilda tended to be scatterbrained more often than not.
Rolling her eyes, Clar
issa pulled out her phone. She was just about to call her aunt back when she heard an awful commotion in the living room. She gasped and dove into the closet to hide.
Then she remembered she had a key to Betty’s house.
Technically she wasn’t trespassing. Technically she was there to water the plants.
Stepping out of the closet, Clarissa tiptoed toward the living room.
She found Cat sitting there, demurely licking its paws.
All around the troublemaking feline were shattered ceramic figurines.
“Cat, what did you do?” Clarissa exclaimed in horror.
“What?” Cat asked innocently. “I felt like giving one of those stupid, ugly figurines a nudge. It isn’t my fault it took out all the rest of them when it tipped over! How was I supposed to know the figurines were set up like the world’s tackiest game of dominoes?”
“Ugh!” Clarissa groaned.
She quickly rummaged around inside her purse, thankful she had thought to bring it along. She found a potion that would help clean up Cat’s mess. After sprinkling the mixture over an old brass clock on the fireplace mantle, she cast a simple little spell to set the clock back sixty seconds.
The shattered figurines became whole and flew back to the coffee table like…well, like magic.
“See? That was easy. I don’t know what you’re getting so upset about,” Cat huffed.
“Don’t touch anything else!” Clarissa cautioned. “If you do, I swear I’ll…achoo!”
A sudden, unexpected sneezing fit overtook Clarissa. It left her doubled over, her sinuses tingling and her nose running. Either there was a lot of dust in Betty’s house or her aunt was right and she really was developing an allergy to magic.
“Hang on, I need to blow my nose,” Clarissa told Cat. She dashed off to the bathroom.
A moment later when she was washing her hands, Clarissa stopped dead in her tracks.
There, written on the bathroom mirror in Betty’s bright red lipstick, was a name.
“Bobby!” Clarissa exclaimed.
The wheels in her head turning, she raced back to the bedroom. She entered Bobby’s name in as the password to Betty’s computer and clicked enter. Pretty soon the welcome screen was replaced by Betty’s desktop.
The Name of the Game is Murder (A Clarissa Spencer Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 8
