The Fred Vickery Mystery Series: Books 1-3 (Fred Vickery Mysteries)

by Sherry Lewis

“And she’s trying to figure out who killed Adam.” Charlotte still sounded skeptical.

  Fred didn’t want to think about what her skepticism meant, but it was hard not to. He shoved the possibilities to the back of his mind and said only, “She wants to know who did it. Wouldn’t you?”

  Charlotte’s lips curved slightly. “And who does she think did it?”

  “She doesn’t know. That’s why I’m helping her ask around. So, what can you tell me about Roy Dennington?”

  “Not much. I’d never met him until yesterday.”

  “Had you ever heard of him before?”

  “Not that I can remember.”

  And yet she’d felt responsible for keeping him entertained at the murder scene the previous morning. “Why did Mitch come to you when Mr. Dennington became impatient yesterday?”

  She lifted one thin shoulder. “How would I know? Honestly, Mr. Vickery, I really can’t help you.”

  Fred charged in with another question before she could ask him to leave. “Tell me what Adam did at EnviroSampl.”

  “He collected soil and water samples for testing.”

  “And who usually tested the samples Adam collected.”

  Charlotte blinked in surprise at the change of subject. “There are only three chemists at EnviroSampl, so it’s either Mitch, Brooke or me. We’re not a very large outfit even though we do get most of the contracts for the EPA in this area.”

  “What do you test for?”

  “Possible contamination of land or water on potential construction sites. If the land’s clean, the owners get the green light to build. If it’s not, the government tells them what they have to do before they can begin construction. If they perform a clean-up, we go back and gather more samples when they’re through, and the whole thing starts over.”

  “What kind of test results would Adam have been anxious to get yesterday?”

  She looked puzzled. “From one of our people?”

  He nodded. “Would he have been expecting results from someone else?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No, of course not. It’s just that he wouldn’t have been expecting lab results from any of us, either.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Positive. We didn’t have anything urgent pending. Besides, Adam wouldn’t get the test results. Not directly. They’d go straight to Philip from the lab.”

  Interesting. Fred scratched his chin and thought back to what he’d heard the day before. “Mitch told me that he got to work early yesterday to deliver some test results that Adam was anxious to get.”

  Her eyes clouded. “Maybe you misunderstood him.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded, even though he knew he hadn’t.

  She sent him a look full of pity. “I really think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Vickery.”

  “Maybe,” he said again. “And you have no idea what part Roy Dennington might have played?”

  Charlotte’s lips thinned. “Like I said, I don’t know the man. He showed up for an appointment yesterday, and he ended up staying until the sheriff let us go.”

  “Any idea what he wanted to see Adam about?”

  “None.” She met his gaze a little too steadily, and Fred suspected she did have an idea. But he also suspected she wouldn’t share it with him.

  “Do you know where I can find him?”

  “No.”

  “A telephone number?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe there’s something back at the office—”

  “There isn’t.” She shifted position and re-crossed her legs. “Look, I understand how anxious you must be to help Nancy, but I don’t know anything.”

  “Do you think Roy Dennington was there to see Adam about something personal?”

  She tried to force a laugh. “Like what?”

  “You tell me.”

  She waved one hand at him as if discounting the idea. “You know what the sheriff thinks, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “He thinks Nancy did it. And it seems like you’re going to an awful lot of trouble to divert suspicion away from her.”

  He met her gaze and held it. “She didn’t kill Adam.”

  A look of malice flashed through her eyes so quickly Fred wondered whether he’d actually seen it. “I don’t know how you can sound so certain. She’s the only one who had a reason to.”

  Fred’s throat tightened, but he tried to keep his face from showing any anxiety. “And what reason did she have?”

  “He left her,” she said as if that explained it all.

  “It’s true, they were separated,” he admitted.

  “She didn’t want a divorce.”

  Fred thought back to the argument at Harriet’s house. He’d been under the impression that Adam hadn’t asked for a divorce before that night. But maybe he’d read the situation wrong. “Did Adam tell you that?” he asked.

  Charlotte nodded. “He wanted out of the marriage, but she wouldn’t agree to a divorce.”

  “Did he tell you why?”

  “Why she wouldn’t agree? Obviously, she didn’t want to lose. If it had been her idea, I’m sure things would have been different.”

  So she killed him and lost him forever? Didn’t make much sense to Fred. He allowed himself a tiny smile. “I meant, did he tell you why he wanted the divorce?”

  Charlotte glanced away and spent a moment readjusting the opening of her robe over her knee. When she was satisfied, she looked up at him slowly. “Yes. But you’ll have to ask Nancy about that. It’s not my place to tell you.”

  “But Adam took you into his confidence. You must have been very close.”

  Her top leg jiggled nervously. “Not in that way. Like I said before, Adam was my friend.”

  “I see.”

  “We worked together every day. We’d known each other for years. And he was staying at the office. Naturally, we talked about it.”

  Pay dirt! Another person who knew Adam was staying at the office. And this person had a key to the building. “Adam told you he was staying there?”

  “Yes, he did,” she said. “But it was pretty obvious. He had clothes and things around. . .”

  “So anybody with access to the building would have known he was staying there.”

  Her leg jiggled a little faster. “I suppose so.”

  “Who else had after-hours access to the building?”

  Her face darkened and her spine stiffened. “Honestly, Mr. Vickery, you sound as if you’re interrogating me.”

  He held up a hand and smiled innocently. “Not at all. I just have a question or two.”

  “Yes. Well. I think I’m through answering your questions.” She looked pointedly at the clock and stood. “Besides, I’m late for an appointment.”

  He’d pushed too far. It would be pointless to press her any further this morning. Chiding himself silently, Fred struggled to his feet and followed her toward the door, but he stopped there and said, “I know you had a key to the office, but besides yours, how many others were there?”

  Anger pulled her mouth into a frown as she jerked the door open. “Everyone who works there has a key.”

  “I see.” He stepped outside and looked back at her with a smile. “Well, thank you for your time. You’ve been very helpful.”

  She stared at him without moving for a very long time, then closed the door between them.

  Fred walked away quickly, but he thought he could feel her eyes on his back until he turned onto the road. He didn’t know a lot more about Adam or his work, but he knew somebody’d lied to him. And he intended to find out why.

  NINE

  Once back inside his car, Fred retrieved the deposit slip where he’d written Charlotte’s address from his pocket, and jotted three more names on the back: Mitch Hancock, Roy Dennington, and Philip Aagard.

  He wanted to talk to Mitch again now that a bit of time had passed since Adam’s body was found, and he wanted to chat with the other two and find out what they had
to say. He decided it made the most sense to start with Philip. If anyone could tell him what Adam was working on, the boss could. Fred hoped he would also be able to tell him where to locate Roy Dennington.

  He made a U-turn and followed Twin Creek back into town. And he thought about Mitch Hancock’s claim that Adam had been anxious to get some test results. Either Mitch had lied about that, or Charlotte had. But which had reason to lie? Both? Neither? Fred didn’t know what either had to gain by dodging the truth, but he certainly intended to find out.

  Even driving at a reasonable speed, he reached EnviroSampl in just a few minutes. Adam’s car had been removed but Nancy’s Trooper still sat near the highway and there were only a few other cars taking up space. Fred guessed Charlotte wasn’t the only staff member who needed a day off after yesterday’s events.

  He found a shady parking spot and hurried toward the building, anxious to catch Philip before he got busy with his day. He pulled open the front door and stepped into a stuffy reception area refrigerated by a swamp cooler somewhere high overhead. The room held one tiny desk, two mismatched chairs, a filing cabinet and Pete Scott’s new young wife. Fred never could remember her name, but a nameplate on her desk reminded him it was Tiffany.

  She tossed back a headful of blond hair and looked up from her computer screen as he entered. “Good morning.”

  He smiled at her. “Hello, there. Tiffany Scott, isn’t it? How’s that husband of yours?”

  She looked pleased that he’d remembered her. “Pete’s doing great. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Fred nodded as if he knew where Pete might be coming back from, but he couldn’t remember hearing he was gone.

  She didn’t seem to notice. “Well, seeing you here is kind of a surprise. What can I do for you?”

  “Is Philip Aagard in?”

  Her brow puckered for half a beat. “Yes, but he’s with somebody right now.”

  “What about Mitch Hancock?”

  She looked confused, as if one request wouldn’t usually follow the other. “That’s who’s with Mr. Aagard. Can I help you?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” He pretended to consider her offer for a few seconds. “Do you know how long they’ll be?”

  “A few minutes, maybe. Do you want to wait?”

  “If it’s all right.”

  She nodded and went back to her typing. Fred took a seat and watched her work for several minutes before she made a mistake, swore, and held her finger on one key while she scowled at the screen. “I can’t believe how many mistakes I’ve made this morning.”

  “Some days are like that.”

  She frowned down at an open file on her desk. “I think it’s because of what happened yesterday.” With a guilty look around, she lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “I mean, it feels weird to even be here.”

  Fred smiled sympathetically. “I’m surprised to find you open today. I half-expected the place to be locked up tight.”

  “You don’t know Philip very well, do you?” She gave a little laugh and glanced up at him. “Look, I hate to make you wait. If you’ll tell me what you need, I’ll be glad to help you.”

  Fred wondered if she could tell him anything about Adam and decided to see what she knew. He let her type for a moment then asked, “When did you start working here? Last time I heard, you were working at the bank.”

  She finished a word and smiled in his general direction. “About six months ago.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s all right.” She tapped out a few more sentences, swore again, and deleted the error.

  “The murder must have bothered you a great deal.”

  Young Mrs. Scott rolled her eyes dramatically. “That’s an understatement.”

  “It must be hard to work after a thing like that. Maybe you should ask your boss for a few days off.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “Not a good idea. Philip wouldn’t be pleased that I even asked. You should have heard him when Charlotte called in this morning.” She gave him a bug-eyed look to indicate exactly what she thought of Philip’s reaction.

  “He didn’t like it?”

  “No. He definitely did not.” Mistake obviously corrected, she repositioned her fingers and started typing again.

  “I guess the murder was quite a shock to everybody,” Fred mused aloud.

  “I’ll say,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I mean, I saw Adam night before last, and he seemed fine. But then yesterday—” She broke off and shook her head slowly.

  Fred sat up a little straighter, eager to hear her story. He warned himself not to expect too much. After all, he’d seen Adam the night before he died, too, and he knew nothing about the murder. “Where did you see him?” he asked.

  “Right here. I stayed late to finish up a contract Philip was working on, and Adam was here, too. We were both really busy, but he came out and talked to me for a few minutes. Then he got that phone call and . . .” She shook her head again. “It’s just so hard to believe he’s dead.”

  Fred scooted his chair a little closer. “What phone call?”

  Tiffany shrugged an I-don’t-know. “It came in on his direct line. I couldn’t really hear what he said, but he looked kind of upset when he came out.”

  “So you don’t know who called?”

  “No. But I wish I did. The sheriff asked me about it, too.”

  Good. She’d already told Enos about the call. Maybe that would help Nancy. “What time did the call come in?” he asked.

  Tiffany pursed her lips and darted a glance at her computer as if the answer would appear on the screen. “I don’t know. Seven-thirty, maybe.”

  “And what time did you leave?”

  “A few minutes after that.”

  “Did Adam leave before you?”

  She shook her head. “No, he was still here. Talking on the phone again.”

  Another call? “Any idea who the second call was from?”

  “It wasn’t from anybody,” Tiffany said with a scowl. “He made the second call.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. The phone didn’t ring again after that first time.”

  Fred leaned back in his seat and pondered what she’d told him. Were the two calls connected? Was there some way to find out who Adam had talked to? Probably. But without official connections, Fred wouldn’t have an easy time getting the information. “Was anybody else here when you left?”

  “No. Just me and him. As usual.”

  “He stayed late often?”

  Tiffany widened her eyes and looked as if she were about to impart a state secret. “All the time. But especially lately. A few people thought he was even living here.”

  “Really?” Fred worked hard to look surprised at the information. “Who?”

  “I don’t know who. But to tell you the truth, I think they’re right.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Well, you know, he had some of his stuff around, and he never seemed to go home. Besides, he’d changed so much the past few weeks.”

  “Changed how?”

  Tiffany abandoned her typing again and rolled her chair around so she could face him. “Little things. He’d stopped eating lunch in the break room, stopped talking to just about everybody. He looked preoccupied all the time. Lots of secret phone calls.”

  “Any idea why?”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah,” she said with a little laugh. “And who.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “I saw him with another woman. Twice.”

  “You think he was having an affair?”

  Tiffany nodded and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Well, yeah. I never thought Adam was that kind of guy, but the very minute—” She broke off and shook her head as if she couldn’t bear to think about it. “To tell you the truth, the whole thing makes me sick.”

  Fred didn’t like the sound of that, but he had to k
eep asking questions. “Do you know who he was seeing?”

  She nodded again. “Brooke Westphal.”

  Fred blinked in surprise. He remembered Brooke Westphal as a perky blonde teenager and a cheerleader all three years she’d been at Silver Mountain High School, but he hadn’t connected that Brooke with the one Charlotte had mentioned. She’d also been on the honor society, the debate team and was president of some foreign language club. He remembered her well because she’d always been in the school after hours. She must have graduated ten years ago or more, which would put her in her late twenties by now.

  “Adam was having an affair with Brooke?” he asked. “Are you sure?”

  Tiffany stiffened, as if he’d called her integrity into question. And maybe he had. “I know what I saw,” she said with a sniff and turned back to her computer just as the door to an office behind her opened. A tall, silver-haired man Fred guessed must be Philip Aagard led the way, Mitch Hancock and Deputy Robert Alpers followed.

  Mitch, as rumpled today as he’d looked yesterday, ducked his head and mumbled something about needing to get back to the lab before darting around a corner.

  Seemingly unconcerned about Mitch’s hasty retreat, Philip extended a hand to the deputy. Aagard wore a gray suit and a crisp white shirt. He was a good-looking man. A bit too good-looking perhaps. Slick was the word that came to Fred’s mind.

  “If there’s anything else you need,” Philip said, “just call.”

  Robert had an open, friendly face with a wide, moustache-adorned smile. He adjusted his deputy cap over his close-cropped curly brown hair and looked out at the world through a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. “Thanks, but I think I’ve asked everything I need to know for now.” He tucked a notebook into his shirt pocket and readjusted his duty belt before he noticed Fred sitting there.

  Fred smiled at him.

  Robert did not look pleased. “Well. Mr. Vickery.”

  “Deputy.”

  “Enos warned me you’d probably come sniffing around, but I’ve got to confess, I didn’t believe him. Are you waiting to see me?”

  Fred stood and tried not to look irritated. He wasn’t sniffing. “Not here for you, Deputy. I’m here to see Mr. Aagard.”

  The silver-haired gentleman looked surprised. He propped his fists on his hips and ran an assessing look over Fred from head to toe. He smiled, pouring on the charm and held out a hand. “Call me Philip. What can I help you with?”