Organized for Homicide (Organized Mysteries Book 2)

by Ritter Ames

  "Yes, Lee Ann told me that yesterday. I planned to share the info with you in a minute."

  "And I stole your thunder."

  "No worries," Kate said. Then she frowned. "However, it is kind of annoying how everyone knows what's going on in this town but us. How come?"

  "Well, for the time being it's because we've been trapped in this house, working our butts off to make sure everything is ready to roll when the moving truck arrives."

  Kate chewed the left corner of her lower lip. "Okay, I'll go for that. But just the same, I'm thinking I need to join some clubs or something. Expand my ability to gain information. I think I'm turning into a boring person."

  "I went through that phase a couple of years ago," Meg said, smiling. "Felt I was just the boys' mom and Gil's wife. That I could turn into part of the wallpaper and no one would notice until they needed a ride somewhere or a shirt found."

  "Yeah, exactly what I mean. What did you do?"

  "Overstressed myself by joining up with every group who would have me. Until I nearly wore myself out trying to keep up with it all."

  Kate sipped her hazelnut coffee, thoughtful. "You're the pro then. What do I do?"

  "Relax. Find one thing you want to learn more about. Or start finally writing the newsletter you've been promising to do to expand your business."

  She glared at Meg. "You and Saree. I'll have you know I have started my first issue. I have no idea when I'll have it completed, however."

  "Which proves you already lead a full life and don't need to add a slew of new activities."

  "Good point." Kate frowned first, then smiled. "You're a good friend. Thanks."

  "I'm just a little farther along the mom-spectrum, so I've already made the mistakes. Feel free to learn from my bad experiences."

  "As if I don't have enough of my own."

  "Now you're getting it."

  Kate slipped the last bite of glazed donut into her mouth, then picked up her cup and turned to view the great room. "Should we start in here? I can give you the rest of my update as we work."

  "May as well. We'll use up half the plastic rolls in this room alone. Gives us plenty of time to talk."

  "What was the first revelation?" Meg asked.

  "Let me think." Kate rubbed her fingernail along the plastic roll, finally catching the edge. She got on one side of the massive carved coffee table, and Meg stood on the other so they could tag team the roll around the furniture. She quickly told Meg about the phantom voice at the funeral home.

  Meg dropped the roll. "No way!"

  Kate nodded.

  "Do you have any idea who it was?"

  "I wish I did." Kate took a bite from her donut, chewing on this thought. "I guess the fact that as much as I like Lee Ann, she would make the best suspect for Lila's killer."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really. She has the best motive, hands down. But she would have had to hire a hit man because she's too short." Kate wiggled her fingers so Meg would pass the roll back toward her. "Blaine and Lila Collier kept her from Sydney until Lee Ann now thinks it's too late. She moved to Hazelton a year ago simply because she wanted to reconnect with her daughter. And she even worked for Erin just to have a good-paying job here for that reason. Now that Sydney is leaving, Lee Ann is moving back to Montpelier. Look at it any way you want, but I'm thinking major disappointment and motive."

  "Are you suggesting she hoped Sydney would live with her instead of Lila?"

  "Only if she's the killer. I said she made the best suspect. I didn't say she was the only suspect."

  Meg dropped to sit on the fireplace hearth. "Anyone else look as good for a suspect as Lee Ann?"

  "Morgan Jackson or April Stephens. Then, of course, Erin Parker, too. They all work the angle of real estate connections."

  "Do I need to ask how?"

  Kate smiled. She loved when she scooped Meg on anything. It happened so seldom. "According to Lee Ann, Lila was wrapping the governmental red tape tight, to strangle Morgan Jackson's real estate endeavors. Both Erin and April had counted on him for this business. April seems to be in the lead now, but I wouldn't count Erin out by any means. Regardless, all the snaggly red tape that originally slowed the project to a crawl has apparently started falling free after Lila's death."

  Leaning against the wall, Kate frowned for a second before adding, "But I have no idea who tried to warn me off in the funeral home. I'm hoping the lieutenant calls if the video shows anything or anyone."

  * * *

  After all the revelations were thoroughly explored, and despite extensive discussions over how Meg would not let Kate go anywhere solo again, progress went well on the large items. They worked steadily to mummify the first floor and then moved on upstairs by early afternoon. The bathrooms were started already, so they decided to finish any leftover packing before dismantling and wrapping what they needed to of the bedroom sets.

  "I'll have a couple of plastic rolls here the day the movers arrive, so anything too heavy for us can be wrapped then loaded directly into the truck," Kate explained. She and Meg each headed for one of the kids' bathrooms, intending to meet up and work together again on the final push for the master bath. However, as they met in the hall again, the doorbell rang.

  Meg waved a hand toward the stairs. "You go and get that. It's probably April and Valerie again."

  Instead, Timothy stood smiling on the porch. He was dressed casually, in khakis and a white polo shirt, and the golden tips of his hair shone in the sunshine.

  "Oh, hi," Kate said. "What can I do for you, Timothy?"

  He offered a kind of sheepish grin, then waved some papers in his right hand. "Sorry. Am I bothering you? I wanted to talk to you about a couple of cities, and—"

  "Of course, the job interviews." Kate stepped aside and made a sweeping motion to invite him in. "Do we need to sit down? Most everything is packed, but there are chairs in the media room."

  When Timothy responded with a couple of half mumbles, Kate moved to the hall, and he followed.

  "I would give you a tour," she added. "But a house isn't at its best when everything is packed for moving."

  "That's okay. I don't want to take too much of your time."

  Most of the media room inventory went with the sale of the house, since everything had been designed and placed in the room for maximum entertainment comfort. Kate led the way to one of the couches and waited for Timothy to give an idea of what he wanted to know.

  "I'm a little hesitant about moving to a big city," he explained, "but that seems to be my best hope for a job in my current pay scale." He held out one of the pages. "This one is for Portland, Oregon, and another that looks promising is in Seattle. I've always heard good things about the northwestern area of the country, but…"

  Kate smiled. She completely understood his discomfort and could relate to the way she'd felt the first time Keith was traded to a bigger city. But at least Timothy was starting in an area she definitely knew a little about. "I lived in Portland for a number of years, and I loved it. The people are friendly and helpful. I never felt like I was just another cog in a big city."

  "And Seattle?"

  "Seattle is exciting and fast and very different from Portland. Neither is better, just different. However, you absolutely have to not mind rain. I swear it was like living in a terrarium sometimes."

  Timothy nodded, seemed to try to smile for a second, then his expression turned thoughtful. "That's good to know."'

  Kate's phone dinged to signal a text. "Oh, this is from Meg. I left her upstairs in the master bedroom, and she has a question."

  His gaze shot upward toward the corner of the house that held the Collier's suite. He jumped up. "I'm sorry. You're busy. I'll—"

  "No, no." Kate waved him down and finished the quick text. "There." She hit the send button. "Finished. No worries. We've found on big jobs it's easier to text each other than stop and search for someone."

  "I get it." Timothy gave a shaky laugh. "Oh, but you know."
He glanced at his watch. "I just remembered I have to meet someone today. A…a…recruiter. For a new…um…employer in Hazelton. I shouldn't have interrupted you."

  As he started to bolt from the room, Kate laid a hand on his arm. "Slow down, Timothy. Relax. You'll do fine, don't worry."

  "I shouldn't have bothered you."

  He double-timed it down the hall, and Kate was concerned about him getting behind the wheel. She tried a new line of dialogue, "A new employer, you say. Is it something to do with Morgan Jackson?"

  "No. I mean…yes. I…how do you know him?" Timothy didn't stop until he reached the front door, pausing on the porch to hear Kate's answer.

  She grasped the doorknob and smiled, trying to figure out why he was suddenly so tense. Job interview jitters? He'd better snap out of it, or Jackson will eat him alive. "I met him at the library book sale. Meg and I were volunteers there, remember?"

  "Oh, right. Yes. When I saw you Saturday." He waved as he hurried down the front walk. "Well, thank you."

  "Any time," Kate called. Meg came up behind her.

  "Was that Collier's assistant?"

  "Yeah."

  Kate closed the door and locked the deadbolt. Timothy had always acted a bit nervy, but today was over the top even for him.

  "What did he want?" Meg asked.

  "I'm honestly not sure." Kate rubbed her forehead. There was something she knew but didn't know. She couldn't quite get it to the front of her mind. A migraine was starting, and she might not even remember later whatever was skipping too fast in her memory now. It had been too many things to do lately, with not enough rest. Hopefully she could knock the pain out before the headache became severe enough to put her to bed. "But his coming here reminded me I still haven't returned those Green Mountain Boards papers. I need to do that today before I forget again."

  Meg stood in what Kate always called her Wonder Woman stance, with fists on her hips. She said, "You also need to go home and rest. A headache is starting. Right?"

  "Yes. But we still have—"

  "Tomorrow. The furniture upstairs is mostly stuff we're going to have to have the movers' brute force to help us with, anyway. I'll stay until time for school pickup and wrap what I can. Then I'll take all the kids with me. I only have a couple of errands, and it will actually be easier with a group. My boys won't whine if your girls are there, too."

  Kate tried not to chuckle but lost. "Like my kids won't whine."

  "And show they're sissy girls? Absolutely not. At least Sam won't." Meg opened the closet door and pulled out Kate's purse.

  "I can't keep doing this. For the past week I've been pawning my kids off on you and Jane and Keith. I'm going to owe all of you big time when this job is finished."

  "That's what friends and family are for," Meg said. "It's the payoff for all the times we push your buttons one time too often. Besides it was doctor's orders last month, remember. Go before it gets too bad for you to drive. Take the papers to Collier's office, then go home, curl up with your cat on the couch, and take a nap."

  "Oh, no, I forgot the cat."

  Meg smiled. "He'll be waiting for you. Don't worry."

  * * *

  And he was. As Kate pulled into her driveway and hit the garage door opener, she saw the cat staked out in the front bow window. He opened his mouth, obviously meowing hello to her without realizing she couldn't hear.

  She didn't know what hurt worse, her head or the rest of her body. "Maybe I'm coming down with the flu."

  Whatever the situation, she really needed the nap Meg prescribed earlier. Just trekking around Green Mountain Boards until she found someone to take the paperwork was enough to finish wiping out any energy she still possessed. She turned her head to watch and make sure there was nothing in the way of the door, but the movement made her feel nauseated. Instead, she headed inside the house.

  "That's it. The world can fend for itself."

  By the time she'd moved through the utility room to the kitchen, the cat was at her feet. He opened his mouth once to meow but must have sensed her distress, because he closed it again without a sound.

  Before she went upstairs, however, she made her way to her office. She didn't know whether to be thrilled or repulsed, but the cat had completed his assigned mission for the day. A dead mouse lay peacefully in the middle of the floor.

  Kate still held her keys and phone, so set them on top of the built-in counter instead of walking them back to the kitchen basket. She hoped she would remember later where she left them.

  In the closet, she found a small box and fitted lid and used one part of the container to push the mouse into the other. The box went into a small trash bag Kate tied securely. Then she put the sealed bag into the trash can. The can was moved into the closet to wait until Keith and the girls could bury the rodent. She closed the closet door so the cat couldn't do any further investigation and made a pass through the bathroom to wash her hands.

  The couch looked inviting, but Kate realized she could darken the bedroom much better than the living room. Besides, her migraine meds were upstairs.

  "Come on, cat. Bed is calling us."

  As she climbed higher, however, she decided it was mind over matter. The headache would only get worse if she fed into it. Lying down would simply make it easier for her to think about nothing but the headache.

  "Except I'm only thinking about the headache," she said to the cat, who now sat at the end of the bed, watching as she pulled her prescription bottle from the nightstand. She shook a white pill into her hand, then moved to the bathroom for a cup of water.

  She pulled closed the heavy draperies, planning to rest for ten minutes or so to give the medication a bit of a jump start.

  "A short lie-down. And try to keep the throttle down on that outboard motor purr of yours. Okay?" she said to the cat. But when she turned back to the bed, the animal was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, she turned to the open door. That's when she heard it coming from the staircase.

  Part groan, part meow, and all frightened. What had the cat gotten into now?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Newsletter Tip: Recycle with Purpose

  A favorite old plate or antique dish is a perfect place for loose change and small items that collect on dressers or nightstands. Once children get to school age, you can introduce them to this idea by giving them one of their baby plates or bowls to use in their own room to store small daily items. An old platter can be used atop a dresser or in the bathroom to display collectibles or small bottles like lotion or liquid soap.

  * * *

  When she got back to the stairs, the cat sat statue-straight halfway down, in what Kate quickly recognized as a nervous pose. His one eye was trained on the living room and environs.

  "What's the matter?" she asked the cat, speaking softly. He turned to look at her but didn't twitch a whisker otherwise.

  She circled around the animal on the step and continued down the flight of stairs. The cat decided to match her pace but scrambled around the kitchen counter and hid on its short side when they got into the kitchen.

  "Are you hungry? Your food is in the utility, silly." Kate walked to the utility room door but felt unnerved by the animal's behavior. When she turned back to call the cat, the feline crouched low to the floor, almost as if hiding and using the cabinets as a shield.

  "What's wrong, fella?" Kate retraced her steps and bent to stroke the soft head, aware of the stressed state of those pointed, orange ears. Alert to any sound.

  At that moment, the utility door opened wider, and Timothy stood at the threshold. He had changed from his earlier khakis, now clad even more casually in a dark blue running suit. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

  The cat was an orange and gold blur, streaking to hide between the chair legs under the kitchen table.

  Timothy's face held an intense look, like he had to hurry off to a more important engagement.

  "Hey, did you come in through the garage? I guess I didn't check for obje
cts on the ground, and it bounced back open. Do you have some more questions? I have the beginnings of a migraine, so I might not be the best help in the world right now." The entire time Kate babbled, Timothy remained quiet, completely opposite of the way he'd acted at the Collier house. Her spidey sense was tingling, but she figured she needed to wait to see what was up. There was no way she could outrun him to the door.

  That's when it hit her. What she'd been trying to remember. When they were in the media room, she'd said Meg was texting from the master bedroom, and his gaze had shot up in that direction. But he'd told her he'd never been in the house before—no, said he'd never been invited. Knowing the master suite was in the opposite end of the house, however, meant he had been there before. The night he killed Lila.

  She caught sight of the coffeepot in her peripheral vision. He obviously noticed how her gaze shifted because he stepped between her and the glass pot.

  "I didn't know you were a runner." Kate tried to pretend everything was normal, despite the stress adding to her headache. "Is my street part of your regular route?"

  He shook his head. "I work out every day, then do five miles. Change my route all the time to keep things fresh." His hands were jammed deep in the front pockets of his running pants, and his eyes shifted back and forth across the room, taking in every nook and cranny. "People always take me for some wimpy secretary, but I'm not."

  Okay. Now what? Suddenly even more uneasy, she prodded, "Do you have some more questions about places you want to consider moving to? Or did your interview today go well?"

  "I planned it all out. I did everything right. I gave up trips and perks, and look where it got me. Body language gave me away. One little flick of the eyes—"

  Kate took a step back and tried to divert his attention. "Now where did that cat go to? I need to feed him. Vet's orders." She tried to laugh, but the effect sounded high and thin to her ears. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Damn cat. Really picked a fine time to act truly feline. Get in here and trip this guy or something. "I'm not sure how I can help…"