Murder Over Mochas

by Caroline Fardig

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

  —

  Not only was Jared Fisher home when we went to his house, but so were his wife and their three adorable children, who were playing in a sprinkler outside on this particularly warm October afternoon.

  Pete and I had to zigzag up the front sidewalk to stay out of the sprinkler’s path. When we approached Jared, who was sitting on the porch next to an attractive blonde, he stood and gave us a questioning smile.

  “Hi, can I help you?” he asked politely.

  I held out my hand. “I’m Juliet Langley, and this is Pete Bennett. I’m a private investigator, and I’m here to ask you a few questions about a coworker of yours.”

  His smile fading, Jared shook hands with both of us. “Let’s talk inside.” He turned to the woman. “Honey, I’ll be a minute.”

  The woman smiled. “Take your time.”

  Jared showed us into the house, which was every bit as nice as Scott’s, but was an older restored home closer to town. We sat at his purposely weathered kitchen table.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, smiling again. I had Jared pegged as another pharmaceutical rep. He was a nice-looking guy, smiled a lot, and had that larger-than-life quality most good salespeople had.

  I cleared my throat. “We came to ask you about Scott O’Malley.”

  Jared blew out a breath and furrowed his brow. “Too bad about Scott. He has not been himself lately. And now…”

  It suddenly hit me how I so didn’t want to spend all day running around and talking about Scott. I wanted to go home and pretend this weekend never happened. It might not have been the best approach, but I got right to the point. “Well, now he’s dead. And someone killed him. He thought you’d been sleeping with his wife, so you’re as good a place to start as any.”

  Jared’s jaw dropped. He looked like I’d just slapped him.

  Pete said under his breath to me, “Dang, Jules. Leave your tact at home?”

  Trying to smooth things over, I said, “Look, Jared, I’m sorry to be so blunt, but we have a lot of people to talk to this afternoon, so…” Yeah, I probably had indeed left my tact at home.

  Jared continued to stare at me.

  Pete cut in. “Jared, I take it you’ve already heard about Scott’s passing?”

  Jared nodded.

  Pete replied, “He told us he’d been in some trouble. We need to find out what that trouble was.”

  “All I know is the office gossip about Scott. That he was responsible for some missing samples.”

  I asked as politely as I could, “Can you tell us about you and Mandi?”

  “There’s nothing to tell. I’m not sleeping with Mandi, and I never was. I love my wife.” Jared ran his hands through his expensively cut hair.

  Oh, yeah, he was definitely a cheater.

  The heartfelt “I love my wife” ploy was always the cheater’s first line of defense. I’d thought it was a joke when Maya had told me about it when I’d first started working for her, but darned if I didn’t quickly learn for myself that the more a husband cheated, the louder he professed his love for his wife.

  He continued, “I went through this a few months ago. She came on to me at work. I turned her down. I told my wife all about it, but I tried to keep it quiet at work so it wouldn’t affect our jobs.”

  “And so her husband wouldn’t find out and try to come after you?” Pete asked.

  “Yes, I suppose that was also a concern. Somehow he got it in his head that we’d actually had an affair, and he made my life miserable around the office. Quite frankly, he went crazy.”

  “So you wouldn’t say you were sad to see him fired?” I asked.

  “Not particularly. In fact, it was partly due to the threats he made to me that he lost his job.”

  Pete nudged me.

  I asked, “Did he ever threaten anyone besides you? Your lovely family, perhaps?”

  Jared’s face got white with anger. “I see where you’re going with this. So to answer your veiled question—no, I did not kill Scott to keep him from threatening me and my family.” He stood. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  As he ushered us out the door, I turned and asked, “Where were you yesterday evening?”

  Through gritted teeth, he replied, “I was entertaining clients in Louisville. You can check with my employer if you don’t believe me.”

  Jared stood on his porch and scowled at us until we got in Pete’s car and drove away.

  Pete began cautiously, “Um, Jules, maybe dial it down a little next time?”

  I heaved out a pent-up breath. “Sorry. I just realized how much I seriously don’t want to go around delving into Scott’s life.”

  He pulled the car over and took my hands. “We don’t have to do this. We can go home and face whatever charges the MNPD wants to throw at us—together. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

  Smiling, I said, “You’d risk getting tossed in the pokey again so I don’t have to suffer through a few uncomfortable conversations?”

  “Yes.”

  I got a warm feeling all over. “Well, that tears it. I am going to put my big girl panties on and get this investigation done. But only because I never want to see you—or me—behind bars again.”

  He chuckled. “My offer still stands, but I’m glad you want to keep going with this. The pokey is no joke. It’s boring as hell, and I’ve decided there is no greater humiliation in life than having to take a crap out in the open in front of a bunch of other dudes.”

  I groaned and pulled my hands away. “You know how to ruin a conversation better than anyone I know.”

  Chapter 8

  Daniel Stevenson, Scott’s best bro, wasn’t at his home. He also didn’t answer the calls Pete and I both placed to the phone number listed in Scott’s contacts. I’d known him well from all the years I’d been with Scott, but of course he’d taken Scott’s side in the whole breakup disaster, so we hadn’t been in contact since then. I wasn’t sure if he’d be willing to speak with me or not.

  As we drove away to find the next person on our list, Pete had an idea. “Call him from Scott’s phone.”

  “Eww. No. That’s sick.”

  “What? Maybe the guy will pick up for a number he recognizes.”

  “You forget we’re not in the big city anymore. I guarantee everyone in this town knows Scott is dead by now. Nobody’s going to pick up a call from a dead guy.”

  He shrugged. “I probably would.”

  “Still not doing it.”

  “Wimp. Who’s next?”

  “It looks like someone named Chandra Thomas is the only other coworker Scott had any kind of polite communication with lately. Her address is in Freedom Hills, not too far from Scott’s place. Let’s hope she can shed some non-biased light on the situation.”

  Pete chuckled. “Non-biased? Are you trying to insinuate that Scott’s cheating wife and her lover gave us biased opinions? Surely not.”

  —

  Chandra Thomas lived a couple of blocks past Scott and Mandi’s house. Her home was much more modest—one of the smaller ones in the neighborhood, but still nicer than most homes in Liberty.

  When a woman about my age answered the door, Pete and I verified she was Chandra Thomas, then we went through our spiel of who we were and why we were there. Chandra seemed to wilt before our eyes.

  Sniffling, she said, “Oh, Scott. I can’t believe what’s happened to him. It’s so heartbreaking. Please, come in.”

  She led us into a tastefully decorated living room and had us sit down on her pillowy sofa. If we sat here too long, I’d be wanting to curl up and take a nap.

  To keep myself alert and awake, I snapped into investigator mode. “Chandra, what can you tell us about how Scott was acting in the last couple of weeks?”

  She blew her nose on a tissue. “He was acting different, that’s for sure. He seemed nervous all the time. Preoccupied. I’d see him lashing out at coworkers…” She cleared her throat,
hesitating before going on. “At times, he would lash out at his wife.” Sighing, she added, “That wasn’t like him.”

  Pete asked, “What do you think was the reason for his sudden change?”

  Chandra shrugged. “I don’t know. Working as a drug rep can be stressful on a good day. I’ve worked in this field for years. It has its ups and downs, but we’re well compensated for it.” She added, somewhat under her breath, “Some more than others.”

  I asked gently, “Do the men make more?”

  “No, the pretty people make more, because they get all the promotions. The sharks do, too. Plus they all get larger regions to cover, which translates to more customers.”

  There was no question that Chandra was attractive, but not in the modelesque way that Mandi was attractive, if that was what she was getting at.

  “Do you think that Scott’s wife, Mandi, was promoted due to her looks?”

  “After her, um…enhancement, yes.”

  Pete and I shared a glance.

  “What about ‘the sharks,’ as you called them? How are they different than the rest of the reps? Are they more aggressive or what?” I asked.

  She blew out a breath. “I probably shouldn’t be sharing office gossip—”

  She was interrupted by a feeble voice calling, “Chandra! Chandra!”

  Chandra smiled apologetically as she stood. “I’ll just be a moment.” She hurried down the nearest hallway.

  Pete turned to me. “Do you think Mandi was able to write off her boob job on her taxes as a business expense?”

  “Probably worth a shot. No surprise that’s your takeaway from this conversation.”

  Nudging my shoulder with his, he replied, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, from what we’ve been hearing, Scott was in a downward spiral. He may have—” Pete stopped abruptly when Chandra came back into the room.

  Smiling, she said, “I’m sorry. My mother lives with me, and she needed something. Where were we?”

  “Talking about sharks,” I replied.

  She cast her eyes down. “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t fair. The truth is, I’m not terribly pushy, so I always seem to get passed over for the promotions.”

  I nodded. “I see. So about Scott, is it only a rumor that he was stealing samples from his fellow drug reps and possibly using them, or do you think there’s truth to that?”

  Chandra’s eyes widened, and she sat up straighter. “I don’t want to think that Scott was the one who’s been stealing our samples, but that’s what he was fired for. As for using them, well, I hope that’s not the case, either. But…he’s been so different lately. I hate the idea, but I think it could be possible, given his unusual behavior.” She swept a tear from her eye.

  “Do you know of anyone who’d want to hurt him?” Pete asked.

  She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. He’d grown quite unpopular around the office, but I can’t imagine anyone would actually hurt him because of it.”

  I asked, “What about the man Mandi is having an affair with?”

  Swallowing, she said, “Affair?”

  “We know about Jared.”

  Chandra seemed to be struggling. “It’s not polite for me to gossip.”

  I stared at her. “Someone poisoned Scott and he died. This is serious, Chandra. We’re here to investigate a murder, not to worry about what is and isn’t polite to talk about. If you know something and withhold it, Scott’s killer could go free. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  She choked out a sob. “N-n-no. It’s true there’s something going on between Jared and Mandi. When they’re in the office, they’re always whispering to each other or having meetings behind closed doors. They do some sales calls together, which isn’t necessary. I haven’t seen anything actually happen between the two of them, but if they’re not stepping out behind Scott’s back, I’d be shocked.”

  Trying to smooth things over after my last blunt statement, Pete said, “Thanks, Chandra. You’ve been a real help to us. Keep your eyes open at the office, and if you have any more information for us, please give us a call.”

  I handed her one of my business cards, and we got up to leave. Once we were back inside Pete’s car, he pulled out of the driveway and said, “You still got some angst going on, huh?”

  “Chandra needed a little nudge to get her talking.”

  “That wasn’t a nudge. That was a heavyweight knockout punch.”

  I smiled. “I thought you said we have to bend the rules to get stuff done today.”

  “Not with a nice lady like Chandra. She—”

  “Hey, looky there.” I pointed out my window at Scott and Mandi’s house as we drove past. “Mandi has a gentleman caller.”

  Jared Fisher, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, was ducking into the front door of the home.

  Pete’s eyes bulged out. “Wow. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours. Is Scott even cold yet?”

  “Well, to be fair, she was already cheating on him before he died, so it’s not like she was subject to the requisite postmortem wait time like a faithful spouse.”

  “That is terrible logic.”

  “Mandi is a terrible human being. Hey, I brought my parabolic mic. Want to try to listen in?”

  “Since they’re probably doing it, then no, not particularly. I want to get this over with and go home,” he replied, zooming past the house.

  —

  I’d wanted to try to stay away from Scott’s family members, partly because I didn’t want to disturb their grieving, but mostly because I didn’t think they’d give me the time of day. One cousin of his, though, had stayed in contact with me. Bethany McCool was an odd bird, but she never held back on a conversation. If she knew something, she’d spill it.

  Bethany lived in a new apartment complex over by the town’s small hospital. When she opened the door and saw me, she squealed in delight and tackled me in a hug.

  “Ooh, Juliet! Wow! I was so excited when I got your text. I can’t believe you decided to visit me after all this time.” She pulled back, as if suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be more solemn. “I mean, Scott dying is just so tragic.” Ever the drama queen, she put her hand over her mouth to stifle a fake-sounding sob.

  Pete gave me a puzzled look as she let us into her apartment.

  “Bethany, this is my friend Pete.”

  Bethany looked Pete up and down like he was a piece of meat. “Hey there, Pete.” She turned to me. “Friend or boyfriend?”

  I bit back the smile forming on my lips. We’d get all kinds of info out of Bethany if she was trying to impress Pete. “Just a friend.”

  I’d warned Pete not to give up any sensitive information to Bethany, since she worked at the Liberty Chronicle. I should have also warned him that Bethany flirted with every man she came in contact with, but I’d forgotten. It was too late now, and it would be rather funny to watch. Bethany was a great girl, but not what you might call attractive. That didn’t stop her from dressing like a nineteen-year-old reality TV star. Today she was sporting way too short cutoff jeans and a skintight tank top. It was unseasonably warm today, but not that warm.

  She pulled Pete by the arm to sit on the couch next to her. I took the chair beside them. Pete was already starting to squirm.

  I said, “Sorry for inviting myself over, but you know I’ve been doing some PI work lately.”

  “Ooh,” Bethany cut in. “Me, too! My best friend, Lizzie, and I are always wrapped up in some kind of crazy sleuthing adventure. Just a couple of months ago—”

  Pete cut in on her with a charming smile. “I would love to hear that story sometime, Bethany, but we’re in a real time crunch. We’ve got lots of…technical PI stuff to do and very little time to do it. Could we ask you a few questions? We think you may be able to help us out a lot.”

  Bethany was practically purring from his attention. “Sure. Ask me anything.”

  Pete cleared his throat and gave me a pleading glance.

  I said, “How much cont
act have you had with Scott lately? Did you notice a difference in his behavior around three months ago?”

  Scooting even closer to Pete, she said, “Yes, and even before that, I noticed a big change in him. I mean, you knew him well, too, right? The old Scott wasn’t into fancy cars and expensive suits. After he screwed you over, it was like he was a totally different guy when he moved back to town with that bitch Mandi. I hate her, by the way.”

  I nodded. “She’s not easy to like.”

  “Anyway, they both got these important jobs as drug reps and decided the rest of us were peons. He kept a few of his old friends, but not many. He drifted away from the family. I’m sure it was all Mandi’s doing, but still.” She leaned in, a sure sign she was about to spill a secret. “Then out of the blue he came to my parents for money a few months ago. Can you believe the nerve of that guy? He parades around flashing his new cars and toys, then suddenly he’s broke? Whatever. My parents said no, of course.”

  “So do you know if he managed to talk anyone else into giving him money?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I’d heard. The whole family said no to him. But then I guess everything worked itself out, because Mandi got a big promotion at work, and they went back to acting like rich snobs.”

  Interesting. Mandi got a promotion at work—but Scott didn’t—and then Scott got fired a few months later.

  “What about lately? How was Scott acting the last couple of weeks?”

  “Not a clue. Haven’t heard a word from him. I tried to text him a few times to invite him to my mom’s fiftieth birthday party, but he never responded.”

  Pete asked, “Did you hear about him losing his job last week?”

  Bethany turned her full attention onto Pete, almost as if she’d momentarily forgotten he was there. “Oh, no, Pete. I hadn’t. Bummer to get fired and die all in one week, right? Worst week ever.”

  I had to cover my smile at Pete’s stunned reaction to Bethany’s blunt comment. I cleared my throat. “One more question—have you ever known Scott to use drugs?”

  Now it was Bethany’s turn to be stunned. “No way. Not Scott. I’m surprised you even would think that, given how well you knew him.”

  Pete said, “She knew the old Scott. How about the new and unimproved Scott?”