Who Killed My Boss? (Sam Darling Mystery #1)

by Jerilyn Dufresne

  Time passed quickly as I lost myself in thoughts, but no solutions poked their heads through my reverie. It was already dark when I rejoined the present. I ran to my office and gathered my things, and practically ran home, hard to do in the dark and snow.

  When I finally got home, Clancy got a hurried walk. I knew she was thinking that Georgianne was looking more and more attractive. “Clancy, this isn’t a long enough walk, you’re right, but I’m late for Rosie’s and Annie’s birthday party.”

  At that she stopped her baleful looks. Clancy loved my nieces and nephews, but I couldn’t take her with me tonight since Jen’s house would be full of people.

  I arrived at Jen and Manh’s house just as folks were sitting down to dinner.

  “Aunt Sam.”

  “Aunt Sam, look over here.”

  “Aunt Sam.”

  “Come here, Aunt Sam. I want to show you something.”

  “Sit by me, Aunt Sam.

  “Wahhhhh! I want Aunt Sam.”

  Murder, schmurder. This is what I really loved.

  SEVENTEEN

  One family tradition was for everyone to gather for all of the children’s birthdays. Today Rosie and Annie were both celebrating. Rosie’s real name was Hong, which translates to Rose in English, and Annie’s Vietnamese name was Anh, which easily became Annie. They were on the threshold of teendom, but were still recognizable as human beings.

  Since Rosie, at twelve, was the elder, she opened her presents first. Mine was no surprise. Money. It takes no thought or planning on my part, but it is also highly prized by the older kids. They especially like the note on the card.

  “Oh, Aunt Sam. You didn’t forget. ‘Happy Birthday, Rosie. This is not underwear money. Have fun. Love, Aunt Sam.’”

  Annie echoed her sister’s emotions when it was her turn for presents. The kids all loved having so many cousins and aunts and uncles. That translated into lots of money and presents on the appropriate occasions.

  I enjoyed being with my family. The noise and chaos spelled “home” to me. My mind kept drifting to the murder, however. I made sure I had some private time with Pete to let him know what I was up to.

  Pete believed me when I said Carolyn was the culprit. He didn’t question my gut feelings and he didn’t make fun of my certainty. He did, however, make me promise to be careful and not to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. That wasn’t a hard promise to make, since I was sure that my nose belonged right in the middle of this murder investigation.

  The noise level increased as the kids got out different outfits to put on a dramatic performance. They’d been rehearsing for weeks. Annie put on her father’s lab coat and glasses and Rosie pranced around in a discarded choir robe. Marty, one of Jill’s sons, was adorable in a disposable surgical gown, mask, glasses, head covering, booties, and gloves. There was nothing of him showing, but I could imagine a contagious grin hidden under the mask. They were discussing (”we’re not arguing, Aunt Sam”) some of the intricacies of the performance, so I took the opportunity to get some work done.

  I caught my sister’s eye across the room. “Jen, I’m gonna use the phone. Can I go into your bedroom where it’s quiet?”

  I thought she said yes, but it was hard to tell above the din. Anyway, her head bobbed a bit, so I took that as an affirmative.

  My next task regarding the murder was to contact Claudia Wolfe Burns. I didn’t know what kind of scam to use to get her to talk to me so I decided to try an unusual tactic, I’d tell her the truth.

  I got the number from Information—for a fee—and she picked up on the second ring. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Burns, this is Sam Darling.”

  “Good evening. What can I do for you?” Her voice sounded friendlier than Carolyn’s.

  “I’m employed at the clinic, Mrs. Burns, and—.”

  She interrupted with, “Please call me ‘Claudia.’”

  “Thank you, Claudia. I’d like to talk to you about your ex-husband’s murder. When would it be convenient to meet?” I decided to give her no choice on whether we met or not, only when.

  “I suppose I should be honest. I want to talk to you too. Would it be possible for you to visit my home this evening?”

  Okay, I would have told the truth if I’d had a chance. Gee, this was going to be a cinch. I didn’t really know exactly what I was going to talk to her about, but I still thought she might be Carolyn’s accomplice. How would I bring that into a casual conversation?

  It took about twenty minutes to enjoy the show and twenty more to say goodbye to the whole clan.

  Driving from Jenny’s to Claudia’s only took another ten minutes, but that was enough time for me to decide what I was going to do. I was going to tell Claudia my opinion of Carolyn’s involvement in the murder. Then I was going to watch her face to see if she was surprised. If she stayed cool, then I might start talking accomplice theories. Otherwise I’d stay quiet about it. I’d play it by ear.

  Also, I was going to monitor my sense of well-being. If I got dizzy, I’d know she was in on the murder.

  She answered the door with a warm smile. It lit up her surprisingly unlined face. The smile was framed by dark hair with hints of silver. “Welcome.” She motioned for me to take off my coat. “I hope it’s all right for me to call you ‘Sam.’ May I get you some coffee or a cold drink?”

  I declined. There was so much food in me from the party that I felt I could burst. But I didn’t feel sick. Didn’t feel much of anything. Maybe my vibes were taking a vacation or maybe the food had calmed them. Could she be the accomplice?

  I followed her into a pleasantly furnished condo. Brand new. Paint smell still evident. I sat in an overstuffed chair while Claudia settled on the couch, pulling her legs under her as she nestled against some large pillows.

  Deciding to cut to the chase, I said, “Why did you want to see me?”

  She smiled. “You certainly don’t mess around, do you?” Her smile faltered. “You said you wanted to see me first. What about?”

  Suddenly it hit me. “Were you at my home last night?”

  “Yes, I thought we could help each other.”

  Aha. The first prowler.

  She continued. “I understand you think you know who killed Martin.”

  She was the only person who called Burns by his first name. “I’m quite positive I know one of the killers.”

  Eyebrows arched, she asked, “You think there’s more than one?”

  “Yes, I do. The killer I have in mind is not the type to slice Dr. Burns the way he was sliced. It was too messy for her to have done the actual deed.”

  “So you suspect Carolyn.”

  This was getting interesting. “Yes, what about you?”

  “I think there’s much more to Carolyn Burns than meets the eye. You might think that I’m just angry at being made a villain in one of her books, but that’s not it. Or at least that’s not all of it. Martin suspected that Carolyn was involved in some pilfering at the office. Not just recently either, mind you, but for the last several years.”

  “Pilfering what?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Some of Martin’s staff reported patient case records were misfiled. And a few times there were some records missing. They were found later, though—in the file cabinet. It perplexed him.”

  Some new information, “I knew about the misfiling, but I didn’t know records were missing. What did Dr. Burns think happened?”

  “He was sure Carolyn used the files.”

  I pounced, “For what?” I needed corroboration for my theories.

  “Carolyn used patient files to get ideas for her books.”

  “That’s what I suspected too,” I confided. “But why didn’t Dr. Burns tell the police? It’s definitely illegal to use that information.”

  “I don’t know why.” Her mouth drew down in a frown, pinching her brow together, forming a downward arrow on her forehead. It appeared she had a suspicion.

  I decided to bypass gri
lling her on that matter, but would come back to it later.

  “What’s your interest in this? What do you have to gain if the killer gets found, whether or not it’s Carolyn? You and Dr. Burns have been divorced for years.”

  She stood, walked around the coffee table, and sat on an ottoman at my feet. “I don’t know you, but I need to talk to someone about this.” I put on my most sympathetic face, dying to hear the scoop. She continued, “Have you heard that Martin had a girlfriend?”

  “Yes, Gwen Schneider. Although she said they broke up and he was seeing someone else.” The light bulb went on. “Was that you? Were you his new girlfriend?”

  She looked unbearably sad and began crying. “Yes, when I moved back to Quincy we went to lunch to discuss some financial matters. One thing led to another and we realized we still had feelings for one another. I loved him. And I want to see whoever killed him get punished.”

  Did I believe her? Or was she trying to snow me? I wasn’t getting any negative vibes from her. In fact no vibes at all. But there seemed to be congruency in what she said and the way she said it. I decided to take her at face value and trust that what she said was true. It seemed she had two major reasons not to murder Burns. One, she loved him and two, she probably received hefty alimony checks from him. If they just began seeing each other fairly recently, he probably didn’t make provisions for her in his will. The will. That was something I needed to check out. I’d just bet that Carolyn was provided for handsomely in Burns’ will.

  Okay, back to Claudia. “Tell me more about Carolyn’s using patient files. What made Dr. Burns suspect her?”

  “He recognized some of his patients in the books.”

  “I was under the impression he didn’t read her books. That he didn’t quite approve.”

  She looked away. “Martin wasn’t entirely supportive of Carolyn’s career choice. That’s why she used a pseudonym. For a long time he didn’t even know she was published. He thought writing was a hobby and that’s all. I don’t know if he read the books. I just assumed he did because he told me he recognized some patients.”

  “Tell me more. Why would Carolyn continue taking files once she became good at writing?”

  “She was making money with them. Big money.” Claudia sat up straight and leaned forward as she looked me in the eyes. “Why should she have to be creative when it was all there, already invented? Every single book of hers had some of Martin’s patients in it. She used them as protagonists, as villains, as bystanders. Remember Bipolar Passion, the one in which she villainized me? The whole book was based upon one of Martin’s patients; he wouldn’t tell me the patient’s name because of confidentiality. But I bet you could find out. The same with Anxieties Unlimited and Psychotic Mama. She stole files, copied them, and used them for her books. Martin told me he confronted her and they had a horrible argument.”

  I wanted clarification. “When was the argument?”

  The brow furrow appeared again. “I think it was the day before he died.”

  “During my interview, Dr. Burns received a phone call from someone. He said something like, ‘Don’t threaten me, I’ll get it to you.’ I wonder if that was Carolyn he was talking to.”

  “It could have been. Although I don’t know anything about that phone call. I understand he was killed shortly after hiring you.”

  It all made sense. It all fit. Carolyn knew that Burns was going to expose her for the fraud that she was. With Burns dead, her source would dry up, but her royalties would not. At last I had a motive. Now, who was her accomplice?

  She cleared her throat, and my thoughts returned to the present. “I said he was killed shortly after hiring you. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  “Sorry, Claudia. I need to think a minute.”

  I really needed to address Michael. There was a good chance he could have helped Carolyn. But what was his motive? Love? Greed? Carolyn’s hefty insurance payment was probably large enough for a 50-50 split to be satisfying.

  Of course, I felt silly. I’d fallen for him and I didn’t really know him. It was probably just a physical attraction on my part, but he’d also proven to be sweet and kind to me as well. He wasn’t very amorous, but I suspected that was because he respected me or because I passed out on him, not because he was a slitter of throats. Well, I’d just have to talk to him and lay it on the line. Perhaps I could delay it a bit, however, until I’d nailed Carolyn.

  Now that I knew her motive it was time to spring the trap. But how? They didn’t teach us this in graduate school. I’d always been busy learning how to help people. Learning how to trap someone was a whole new ball game.

  “Sam.” Claudia interrupted my plotting. Her grief was evident. She must have really loved Martin Burns. “I don’t know what to do with this information. I think I should tell the police, but I’m afraid I’ll get in trouble because I didn’t tell them earlier.”

  Synapses were firing all over the place in my cranium. “I understand your fear. Why don’t you let me broach the subject with Detective Lansing? I’m a close friend of his, and I think I can keep you out of it. Okay?”

  She was pathetically grateful. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Do you know that Martin talked to me about you?” My surprise must have shown. “Yes, he did. He called me right after hiring you. He thought you would be a fine addition to the staff. That was the last time I spoke to him. And it seems he was killed almost immediately after we said good-bye.” Tears again.

  I didn’t know how I felt about an unpopular guy liking me, but I guessed it was better than the alternative.

  Promising to stay in touch, I drove away, well below the speed limit for a change, and tried to sort all this out. Even though Carolyn’s motive for murder was clear, I still believed she didn’t commit the murder alone. She wouldn’t want to get dirty and she also didn’t appear to have a background in nursing or medicine. Maybe she knew how to slice a vein from writing her books, but I doubted it.

  For the time being I decided to take Claudia at her word, that she was at home when Burns bit the dust. I had no reason to believe her, except that I experienced no twitches, pings, itches, or vertigo around her. I wondered if George knew that Claudia was Burns’ new girlfriend. I hoped I was the one who would be able to tell him. Surprising him would be a treat.

  Clancy was waiting for me. Even though it was getting late, I took her for a nice long walk, trying to put Burns and his murder out of my mind for the time being. I had jumped headfirst into this murder investigation. No looking before leaping for this gal.

  The cold air cleared my head. “Clancy, you won’t believe how cute the kids were tonight. You should have seen them all dressed up in their parents’ clothes.”

  The idea hit me so hard I jerked to a stop. Therefore so did Clancy. “Omigod. They used disposable surgical clothing.” I described how nothing of Marty showed when he was dressed in scrubs and accessories. I started walking again at a frenetic pace as I put the pieces together. “Those scrubs and glasses and booties are stored in the closet right outside Burns’ office. No one keeps rigorous track of how many are used. No one would have noticed.”

  I slowed down as my lungs started to burn. “So they came in the window, and maybe hid somewhere, put on the scrubs and killed him. They could have put the scrubs in a trash bag and left the same way. If they looked anything like Marty there wouldn’t have been any blood on them at all.” I wanted to yell “Eureka” I was so proud of my discovery.

  Then I thought about some of the other details. “Do you think George could be right? I mean about the gas leak and the car wreck being accidents.”

  She looked at me and I got her point. “Well, maybe I was driving a bit too fast for conditions. Hell, okay I probably was.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. My own cousin was the mechanic and even he said the brakes were shot. No one messed with them. And the carriage house is old, and so are the gas lines. So no one is after me.”

  Clancy looked relieved that
I finally “got it.”

  “So then why did I get myself mixed up in this?” She shook her head.

  Perhaps my family was right. Maybe I was nosy. Maybe I was co-dependent. Maybe I didn’t want anyone to have fun without me.

  Clancy and I returned home and she went to bed. Something was stirring in my brain cells and I decided to dig into Carolyn’s books. I’d piled them next to the bed. I was embarrassed that I owned them all, because I didn’t want people to know I read her kind of literature. And I used that term loosely. Carolyn’s books were light, frothy, sexy, and at the same time full of psychological pathos. She was a bestselling author, and I was drawn to her books, even though I looked down my nose at them. I didn’t claim to be consistent.

  After hurriedly looking through her novels, I found my answer. I didn’t even need the copied clinical notes I’d brought home from the office. I recognized Mrs. Abernathy in one of the books, thinly disguised as Mrs. Abercrombie, a lonely, bored, horny woman with erotic, neurotic dreams. Why hadn’t I noticed this before? I turned to my canine co-sleuth, “I wish you could read. You could read the files while I checked the books.”

  More reading and cross-checking and the truth was evident. Anyone who had access to both the patient files and the books could see it.

  I wanted to speak to Carolyn, but couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Delayed gratification is not my cup of tea. “Clance, I gotta find out who helped Carolyn kill Burns. Do you have any ideas?” I was only half-kidding. If Clancy could talk, she’d probably tell me all the details of the murder, wrapped up in a bow.