“That’s actually why we’re here. We were hoping that you might be able to help us.”
Linda pointed at herself. “Me?”
David nodded.
“Why would I have any idea who did this?”
“Because you were Valerie’s best friend,” I said. “Friends tell each other everything. Sometimes even more than they tell their own husbands.”
“True.”
“So, did Valerie tell you anything recently that stood out? About her husband? Or one of her other friends? Or someone from work?” I asked.
Linda shook her head.
“Valerie wasn’t having problems with anyone, then?” I said.
Linda chuckled. “You must not have known Valerie very well.”
“Why not?”
“Because everyone loved her. She got along with everyone.”
“Even Rick?”
“Wait. Please tell me you don’t think Rick might have had something to do with this,” Linda said.
“You tell us. Should we suspect him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Val and Rick were deeply in love.”
“So, they didn’t have any problems?”
“No. They had a wonderful marriage.”
I stared her down. “That may be the case, but no marriage is perfect.”
“Look. They had an occasional argument every now and then, but who doesn’t? It was never anything big, though. I mean, Val and Rick had the best marriage of anyone I know.”
“So, it would be ridiculous to ask if he was faithful to her.”
“That’s just crazy talk. Rick would never cheat on her.”
“I’m sorry. It’s all just standard procedure. Just like I need to ask if Val cheated on him.”
Linda scoffed. “Val, fooling around on Rick?” She shook her head. “Not a chance.”
“Like I said before, I need to cover all my bases.”
“Yeah? Well you’re barking up the wrong tree. I told you before. They had a good marriage.”
“I believe you,” David said. “How about work?”
Linda shrugged. “What about it?”
“Was Valerie having any difficulties there?”
Linda thought the question over then responded, “No.”
“She hadn’t dealt with any bridezilla’s, then?”
“Well, there were a few of those. But Val was so good at her job that she was able to keep even the most demanding of brides happy.”
“Did she ever mention having problems with any of her coworkers?”
“Nope. They all loved working for her.”
Frustration was building on David’s face. “How about the rest of Valerie’s life? Can you think of anyone who might have had a problem with her?”
“No,” Linda said.
“Think really hard.”
“No one comes to mind.”
David groaned.
“At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I told you, she got along with everyone,” Linda said.
Chapter Eight
Clarissa Everton was Valerie’s pink-haired, bespectacled, thirty-two-year-old assistant at Valerie’s wedding planning company. Not surprisingly, the news of her boss’s death did not go over well with her. Tears were shed. Tissues were required. Eyes were wiped.
Finally, when Clarissa was able to get control over her emotions, David got down to business.
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted your boss dead?” David asked.
“No way,” Clarissa said.
“We’ve been hearing that a lot today.”
“With good reason. Valerie was great. Everyone loved her.”
“Clearly not everyone. Someone killed her.”
“I can’t imagine what kind of maniac would do something so crazy. Do you have any clue who was behind this?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Unfortunately, we’re having a lot of trouble coming up with a single suspect. That’s why we would really appreciate any help we can get.”
“I’d love to be able to give you a name. But I’d be lying if I told you I had any clue who did this to her.” Clarissa winced. “Poor Valerie.”
“You enjoyed working for her, then?”
Clarissa threw her arms out. “Are you kidding? She was the best boss I’ve ever had.”
“And everyone here at the company feels the same way?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“How about any disgruntled former clients?” David asked.
Her nose crinkled. “There aren’t any.”
“Let’s talk about Valerie’s husband for a second,” David said. “As far as you knew, was she getting along well with Rick?”
“Oh yeah,” Clarissa said.
“Just one more question. Did your boss ever mention having difficulty with any of her friends?” David asked.
Clarissa shook her head.
“All right.” David pulled his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Clarissa. “Thank you for your time. If you happen to think of anything later that might help us identify Valerie’s killer, please give me a call.”
“I will,” Clarissa said. “Good luck finding who did this.”
“Thanks. I have a feeling that we’re going to need all the luck in the world,” David said.
Chapter Nine
It was hard to keep my composure as I walked back to David’s car. Murder investigations always tested my patience, but this was the most frustrating case I had ever worked on. And that was saying a lot.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but I managed to muster enough resolve to keep my composure until I plopped back down in the passenger seat of David’s car. Just as I was about to groan, David beat me to it. From there, his frustration poured out of him.
“This is unbelievable,” he said.
“I’m with you there,” I said. “I mean, we have a murder and no suspects. It’s like the universe is playing some crazy prank put on.”
“Well, I’m not laughing.”
“Neither am I. Honestly, right now, the only thing I’m doing is scratching my head.”
“I’m pretty stumped too,” he said. “I never thought I’d say this, but maybe it’s time to entertain that burglary gone wrong theory.”
My eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re going back to that?”
“If you have a better explanation, I’m all ears.”
A silence fell over the conversation as I struggled to produce an alternate theory.
When a few more seconds went by without me providing him with an answer, he spoke up.
“See,” David said. “It may not be a theory that either of us likes, but it’s the only one we’ve got right now.”
I grimaced. “My gut is still telling me this isn’t the work of a burglar.”
“Your gut doesn’t happen to have any more specifics, does it?” he asked.
My eyes widened. “I hate to say it, but there’s an even scarier possibility.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if we’re dealing with a killer who is so sneaky that they have managed to completely avoid suspicion?”
He tensed up. “That’s pretty terrifying.”
“It sure is.”
“Although, if they were that sneaky, they probably would have taken a big-ticket item or two from the Olson house to really make it seem like this was the result of a burglary gone wrong.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“Who wants to argue at a time like this? I just wish there was a good theory that we could agree on.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Unfortunately, the only thing we can truly say with complete certainty is that this case is a real pain.”
David didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared out into the distance.
“So, what now?” I asked.
He remained silent as he retained the faraway look in his eyes.
I spoke up. “Anything?”
“Give me a minute,” he said.
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“Take as long as you need. Maybe then you can explain to me how someone with no enemies ended up getting murdered.”
He winced. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for you. This just doesn’t add up. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place, but we’re missing something.”
“Yeah. The part where this makes any sense,” I said.
Chapter Ten
It seemed like a good time to get a pizza. Then again, was there ever a bad time to scarf down on some thin-crusted magic? Pizza was the answer to a number of life’s most stressful questions. Especially that evening.
David and I ordered a sausage, onion, and garlic pizza to-go then parked ourselves in front of my television. It only took one bite of the pizza to improve my mood. Between the melted cheese, the crispy baked dough, and the delicious assortment of toppings, I sunk my teeth into a slice of happiness. With every bite that I took, I felt my spirit buoy a little more.
While my stomach was happy, my brain was still a complete mess. Instead of trying to make sense of my jumbled thoughts, I decided to distract myself with some television. That was where David and I found ourselves in disagreement.
After investigating Valerie’s murder all day, my fiancé just wanted to zonk out and watch some sports or a mindless action flick. There were certainly plenty of those on. The problem was that my mind worked differently.
Right then, I had a yearning to watch a really good episode of a detective show. A well-written episode could provide some inspiration to me when I needed it the most. Perhaps it could even help me get a break in this case.
David had no interest in watching a police procedural show. But, being the sweet fiancé that he was, he agreed to let me get my way. For one episode, at least. We struck a deal. When the hour was over, we would switch over to lighter fare.
Either by twist of fate, or just dumb luck, the episode that we ended up watching was just what I needed. By the time the TV detective cracked the case, I felt completely energized.
I turned to David to see if he looked invigorated as well.
Nope.
Apparently, I was the only one with renewed enthusiasm.
David reached for the remote to change the channel. “All right. Enough of that. Let’s put the Marauders game on.”
I held my hand up. “No. Wait a minute.”
He groaned. “Sabrina, we had a deal. Just one episode.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you have that look on your face?” he asked.
“Because of that episode we just watched.”
“Sabrina, I love you to death, but I can’t binge on detective shows tonight. I’m on investigative overload here. I need a break.”
“I understand.”
David breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” He flipped over to a sports channel.
“Now you’re the one who isn’t understanding me,” I said.
He squinted at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Turn off the TV.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“What we just saw.”
His nose crinkled. “You’re not making any sense. What’s there to discuss? Detective Dansbury solved the case while making all kinds of wisecracks, just like he always does.”
“Yes, but this wasn’t just any case. It was a different type of investigation than usual.”
He bit his lip. “I have a feeling about where you’re going with this—”
“Tell me that murder-for-hire twist didn’t strike a chord with you,” I said.
“I’ll stop you right there,” he said. “Just because that was one of the big plot twists of the episode that we just watched doesn’t mean it’s relevant to the Valerie Olson case.”
“But what if it is?”
“That’s a big if.”
“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. We have a murder with no suspects. Even more, the only person who is even vaguely suspicious is Rick Olson, who has an ironclad alibi.”
“You don’t think I know that? Why do you think I’m so frustrated?”
“Except that maybe Rick’s alibi is so strong because he made sure he was out of town with his friends when the murder occurred. Then, with his alibi in place, he hired someone to kill his wife.”
“I have to admit. That’s a great plot for a TV show, but in real life—”
I cut him off. “Do you have a better theory?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean your theory is right. I mean, that’s a whole lot of wild speculation.”
“I didn’t say it was the definitive answer, just that it’s a possibility.”
“Say I go along with your theory. What would be Rick’s motive for wanting his wife dead?”
“Maybe their marriage wasn’t as amazing as he made it out to be.”
“Only, we talked to Valerie’s best friend. And Valerie’s assistant. They both agreed that Valerie and Rick didn’t have any marriage problems,” David said.
I took a deep breath. After remaining silent for a moment, my eyes widened as an idea came to me. “At least not that they knew of. But it doesn’t mean they weren’t having problems. People can be awfully secretive when they want to be.”
“I can’t deny that, but I think you’re really reaching here.”
“Come on, David. What are the odds that we’d turn on the TV during the middle of a difficult investigation and just happen to stumble upon a murder-for-hire episode?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“It feels like we were meant to watch this particular episode tonight. Like the universe is trying to tell us something,” I said.
“Are you saying it was our TV-watching destiny? Because that’s the kind of wacky statement that I’d expect to hear out of Kelly O’Reilly’s mouth, not yours,” David said.
“I know. I just feel like we could be onto something here with this murder-for-hire theory.”
“Or maybe you just want to feel like you’re onto something because you’re desperate.”
“What, and you aren’t?” I asked.
“I admit it. This case could be going better,” he said.
I scoffed. “You can downplay your feelings all you want, but you should be desperate. Because right now, the only alternative to my murder-for-hire theory is that there’s a burglar-turned-killer out there who broke into the Olson’s house and didn’t bother to steal any big-ticket items.”
“You have to remember, it’s still early in the investigation,” he said.
“Yes, disturbingly early for us to already be out of leads. Or for us to not have any suspects. Honestly, the way things are going, this case could go cold in record time.”
“I understand your concern, but there’s no need to panic. Instead, I think you should turn in early and get some sleep.”
“And I think you should give this murder-for-hire theory a chance.”
“I’ll tell you what,” David said. “Get some rest. If you still believe that in the morning, I’ll entertain it as a possibility.”
“Fair enough,” I replied.
Chapter Eleven
When I woke up in the morning, I took my pet corgi, Snickerdoodle, for a walk around the neighborhood. As Doodle went from fire hydrant to light pole to tree, sniffing like crazy the entire time, the murder-for-hire theory continued to bounce around my head.
Only now, after a full evening of sleep under my belt, I didn’t feel quite as confident as I did last night. Maybe, in my desperation to make any sense out of this case, I reached for the first vaguely palatable idea that I came across. Then again, perhaps I was spot-on. My gut sure wasn’t giving me any help. My instincts were uncharacteristically silent on the matter.
Before I was able to get too wrapped up in my thoughts, Snickerdoodle spotted a squirrel and took off down the sidewalk after it. From there, the race was on to the nearest tree with me reluctantly bringing up the rear.
Ugh.
&nbs
p; This was the last thing I wanted at this hour in the morning.
“Slow down, Doodle. I need to keep some energy for the rest of the day,” I said.
Doodle didn’t listen to me.
He continued sprinting, as fast as his stumpy little corgi legs could, at least. Not surprisingly, he was no match for the squirrel.
When the squirrel bounded up a tree, Doodle tried to go up after him, but got nowhere fast. Doodle stood beside the trunk of the tree and barked at the squirrel, who safely sat on a branch a number of feet above even my reach.
Doodle was understandably in a complete tizzy, but I was relieved as I could now catch my breath. My heart went out to poor Doodle, however, as he continued to bark, frustrated that the squirrel was in his sight but just out of his reach.
That was an apt metaphor for how this case was going. The answer to my investigative questions was out there, maybe even right in front of my face, yet it remained out of my grasp.
To add insult to injury, instead of moving out of sight, the squirrel just kept staring at Doodle, and even proceeded to make a number of squeaking noises, as if he was taunting Snickerdoodle.
That last action drove Doodle mad. I pulled on Doodle’s leash a little, trying to get him to give up and move on with our walk, but he was determined to speak his mind with a flurry of barks.
I groaned. “Give it up, Doodle. This is one you aren’t going to win.”
Snickerdoodle ignored me and continued barking.
All the barking must have annoyed the squirrel, because the little furry rodent scampered to the end of the tree branch, hopped onto another tree, then jumped onto a nearby roof. From there, the squirrel scaled the top of the house’s roof and moved out of view entirely.
Wow. What a show. It never ceased to amaze me what little furry ninja’s squirrels were. They were as fascinating to watch as they were frustrating to catch.
Now, with the squirrel out of view, I thought Snickerdoodle would finally give up, but he just kept barking.
I had to hand it to Doodle. He had a better chance of catching a cold than he ever did of catching that squirrel, but it didn’t stop him from dreaming big anyway. Doodle didn’t seem to realize that no matter what he did, the squirrel would always remain just out of his grasp.
Chocolate Cake with a Side of Murder Page 3
