Frosted on the Ferris Wheel

by Laura Pauling

  First, she cleaned. The counters and the tabletop. She dusted the coffee table and used a dust buster on the area rug. Their cleaning job needed to be somewhat legit.

  Then, knowing their time was running out, she studied the room. The family pictures on the wall, the smaller frames on the fireplace mantel. She flipped through the photo albums on the bookshelf.

  She studied Gary’s smile, the way he held his wife. The love and sincerity in his smile.

  Nothing suspicious.

  Holly was lost in her thoughts when Millicent appeared behind her.

  “Are you daydreaming? Hello? We’re here for a reason.”

  “No, I’m not,” Holly said curtly, her face flushing. She redirected. “Find anything?”

  Millicent shrugged. “Zilcho. Let’s go to phase two.”

  As they said goodbye and left the Schilling residence, Holly had her doubts at Millicent’s admission that she found nothing. Mainly, because Holly had her own suspicions and impressions that she wasn’t sharing either.

  Outside, at the car, they loaded their cleaning supplies into the trunk. Millicent slammed it shut. “Let’s hope we find something at Sunny Side Realty. They might not accept our services quite so easily.”

  Finally, one thing Holly agreed upon. Joel Atherton seemed a bit savvier than Judy.

  ***

  They parked across the street from Sunny Side Realty. Millicent checked her makeup and redid her ponytail. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Because I can’t have an amateur messing this up. Joel Atherton comes across a little flaky, but he is a shrewd businessman.”

  Holly studied Millicent who was now applying lipstick. “Do you know him?”

  “Not personally. I can tell these things.”

  Holly smiled. “I’m sure between your gifts at reading people, your sixth sense when it comes to seeing beyond the facade people present, and your writing talent, you’ll have a novel published in no time.”

  Millicent squealed and grabbed Holly’s arm. “Do you think so? You really think so?”

  “Sure.” Holly wondered why, with all her talents, Millicent couldn’t pick up her hint of sarcasm. “You have a wonderful imagination.”

  “I know.” She blew her hair out of her eyes. “My biggest problem right now is giving my main character a flaw. Every protagonist, even a sleuth, needs a flaw.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Holly looked away from Millicent and across the street at Sunny Side Realty. “Maybe we should get going?”

  “Just a minute.” She tapped the steering wheel, gazing off. “What if she...”

  “Has a propensity for lying?” Holly suggested. “That would create lots of tension.”

  Millicent looked shocked and said with a hint of disdain. “Characters have to be likable.”

  “Oh.” Holly nodded. “What if, even though she comes across as confident, she’s really insecure and that leads her to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Could add some comedic breaks.”

  “Oh, Holly.” She patted Holly’s leg. “Thanks for trying to help. I appreciate it. I guess I’m just thinking out loud.” She snapped out of it. “Alright, time to go.

  After collecting their cleaning buckets filled with the necessities, they strode across the street.

  “I’ll take the lead,” Millicent stated.

  “I figured.”

  Millicent tried the door but it was locked. “Darn. Must be on a lunch break. Perfect opportunity.” She pulled out a hairpin and wiggled it in the lock until it popped open. “We’re in.”

  “You never cease to amaze me.” This time Holly meant it.

  “I know, right?” Millicent giggled.

  The place was silent. Even though it had a great spot on Main Street, it was small. Just one room. Two desks on either side. One nameplate said Joel Atherton, the other said, Gary Schilling.

  “You clean,” said Millicent, taking charge. “I’ll snoop.” Before Holly could argue, Millicent explained. “That way if Joel enters or someone sees through the window we’re legit.”

  “Of course.” Holly fumed and grabbed the duster. “I’ll start on the windows.” She whisked the feather duster over the windowsills, acting busy but keeping an eye on Millicent. “What are you looking for?”

  “I’ll know it when I see it. A threatening letter from Joel to Gary. Secret contact numbers or emails. Joel is the kind of person who wouldn’t get his hands dirty but would pay someone else to do the killing.”

  Holly thought about Chip and his mysterious phone calls. Maybe Joel had hired the out-of-towner to do his dirty work. The thought bothered Holly. Pegging Joel seemed too easy, too cliché.

  As Millicent searched Gary’s desk, opening and shutting drawers and fumbling with papers, she said, “One method I use when plotting a mystery is to envision myself in the murderer’s shoes, focus on his or her personality. Joel is suave but cocky. That’s his downfall. He feels like the world owes him, so when a situation doesn’t go his way, he will plan and scheme until it does. Even if that requires murder.”

  “And you know this how?” Holly asked. “Brainstorming for a novel isn’t real life. You can’t assume a man is guilty based on a stereotype.” As she dusted, she inched over to Joel’s desk and casually looked for anything askew or unusual.

  Millicent snorted. “Leave the character development to me, honey. I know all about three-dimensional characters.”

  “Of course.” Holly moved closer to the desk.

  “Stop snooping and clean,” Millicent ordered. “Or our whole plan could blow up in our faces.”

  At this point, Holly missed sleuthing with Charlene. Millicent’s snooty comments were wearing her down. She lost motivation to snoop so followed orders and dusted the frames on the wall.

  “Here he comes!” Millicent hissed and moved to cleaning.

  Joel stormed up the walkway. He glared at them through the windows, his face a mask of steel determination. The door slammed behind him. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Millicent swooped forward, like an eagle after a mouse. “Surprise!”

  “I’d say this is a hell of a surprise. How’d you two get in?” he demanded, pulling out his phone. He eyed Holly.

  “She’s deaf,” Millicent blurted. “She can’t hear you.”

  “Yes. I know what it means to be deaf. So tell me, how did you get in my office when they were locked?”

  Deaf? With quick, jerky strokes, Holly dusted the business certificate framed on the wall. Her eyes widened as she skimmed the lettering. For the moment, she forgot about her rage toward Millicent.

  “Locked?” Millicent sounded breathless, nervous. “An anonymous donor hired us to clean your offices during this time of grieving at the loss of your business partner. When the door was unlocked, we figured now would be a good time.”

  Joel ignored Millicent’s plea and punched in numbers on his phone.

  “Um, who are you calling?” Millicent asked sweetly.

  “The cops.”

  Millicent fluttered her hand in front of her face. “The cops? Why? We’re here to clean for you.” She smoothed her shirt, making an effort to draw Joel’s attention to their youth and possible innocence. She deflated, her shoulders slumping. “In fact, we offered to clean for free. In this time of grief, we refuse to accept money. You see,” she dabbed at her eyes and sniffed, “I lost my mom last year. I understand that during a time of loss, it’s hard to get past the wall of depression that pulls you down...”

  Joel raised an eyebrow, casting his doubt.

  Spurred on, Millicent talked faster. “That fog of confusion and loss that blinds you. Grief can be like the hot sun bearing down, and we can feel parched with no water to quench our thirst.”

  Even Holly rolled her eyes at the one. Nervously, she glanced at Joel who crossed his arms, waiting. Clearly, he wasn’t impressed by her dramatic monologue.

  “How poetic,” he said flatly.

/>   Millicent placed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered. She opened her mouth to continue what Holly felt sure would be another spurt of flowering mixed metaphors. That would be the figurative nail on their coffins.

  Sirens wailed, drawing closer. Maybe they could convince Joel to let them go, before Trent...or Chief Hardy arrived. Then she could share with Millicent, and the rest of the club, what she’d discovered.

  “What she means to say,” Holly broke in, “is that we’re almost done. We’ll finish up and be out of your way.”

  “Deaf, huh?” Joel asked.

  Holly realized her mistake. Millicent had said she was deaf. “I’m very good at reading lips.”

  “Sure. I bet you are.”

  Millicent’s expression changed from innocent to flirty. Holly tried to wave her down and catch her attention with her burning glare. She failed.

  “You realize the police are just waiting for an excuse to interview you and check this place out. In the case of a murder, business partners are always among the list of suspects.”

  “Kid, you’re crazy.” He motioned toward the back, herding them like cats. “Okay, into the bathroom, you two.”

  “Eeuw! The bathroom,” Millicent exclaimed.

  Joel gave her deadpan look. “It should be clean.”

  Holly shuffled behind Millicent into the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, Millicent turned on Holly.

  “Way to mess that one up. How did you ever get into Charlene’s little sleuthing club?”

  “Me?” The rage that constantly simmered flared. “What about you? With all your purple prose. Agatha Christie just rolled over in her grave. And then, you changed tactics and subtly threatened him. Good one.” Holly had so much more she wanted to say about Millicent’s true ability, or lack of, but she bit them back.

  “I wouldn’t have been put in that position if you hadn’t screwed up. You’re deaf and then you broke into the conversation trying to convince him of our cleaning act, which clearly he didn’t believe at that point.”

  Holly stepped closer. “I’m not deaf! Nor did we plan that out beforehand.”

  “It’s called winging it, my dear. Pantsing it. On the fly. Following the muse.”

  “Shut up in there.” Joel banged on the door just as the sirens stopped outside.

  They both quieted down. “At least we can try and listen in.”

  “Oh, don’t try to steal the show now with your flimsy sleuthing tips.” Millicent grabbed the cup from the sink and placed it against the door. “I know how to eavesdrop.”

  “Clearly.” Also curious, Holly moved toward the door and put an ear against it.

  After nudging each other out of the way, they settled against the door.

  “Sorry for the alarm, Officer.”

  “I thought someone had broken into the office, so I called. Turns out I’d left the door unlocked and someone had generously paid for a company to clean the office. False alarm.”

  “Holy cow, he’s not turning us in.” Panic erupted in Millicent’s strained voice.

  Holly’s thoughts matched Millicent’s. Why wasn’t he leading Trent to their prison? What would he do with them?

  “What if he plans to do away with us because we know too much?” Millicent whispered and clutched Holly’s arm.

  “We don’t know anything,” Holly said.

  “Just us being here and getting caught in lies—no, thanks to you—makes us look guilty.” She placed a hand on her throat. “What if he turns us into cement popsicles?”

  Holly had to admit the same thought had crossed her mind. She fought off a shudder. “We do know something...”

  “What?” Millicent narrowed her gaze. “Tell me. Now!”

  “While I was dusting I noticed the business certificate on the wall. The only name on it was Gary Schilling. It’s very possible that Joel isn’t a partner, which means he shouldn’t care how Gary spends the company extra profit as long as he’s getting paid.” It all made sense. “Joel Atherton is innocent.” She thought back on his convertible and the card for counseling in the glove compartment. “And, he’s seeing a grief counselor.”

  “That’s stupid. Murder can be more complex than that.” Millicent immediately shot Holly down. “And he could see a counselor to make it look good. Nope, he’s our man.”

  “Okay, then.” Trent’s voice sounded through the door. “If that’s all I’ll be on my way. Again, sorry for your loss.”

  Why wasn’t Trent taking advantage of the situation and questioning Joel? Surely, he had to be on the suspect list as they’d suspected.

  Millicent banged on the door. “Help! He locked us in! He threatened us! He might kill us!” A sob seeped into her words. She grew hysterical.

  The door opened and Millicent flew into Trent’s waiting arms. “We were just trying to help. Just trying to do a good deed and offer cleaning services to the ones left behind.” She whirled around and pointed at Holly. “She made me do it. It’s her fault.”

  Joel stepped in. “She’s telling the truth. They were here cleaning. Though, something did seem off.” He laughed. “But they’re just a couple kids. I applaud their efforts. No harm done.”

  Holly couldn’t help but notice that Joel seemed in a hurry to get them out. Maybe because he didn’t want to be questioned. Maybe because he was guilty. He did seem to fit the profile. Arrogant. Close to the victim. But Holly knew to look past stereotypes. He had no reason to do away with his business associate. Not that she could see. Unless there was still more evidence that needed to come to light.

  “Alright, ladies. Why don’t we take this downtown.” Trent waved them toward the door.

  Millicent blubbered. “Are you arresting us?”

  “Just procedure. I’m sure you two have learned your lesson.”

  Gaze straight ahead; Holly refused to look at Trent. She marched past him and out to the waiting police car. Why had Joel played along with Millicent’s act? She’d changed her tune and her story every three minutes.

  Other than a few curious stares, no one paid them much attention. Trent didn’t make a show, except to comfort Millicent and calm her hysterics. Holly climbed into the back of the cruiser.

  Numb, she stared out the window, ignoring Millicent’s chatter as she gushed about their scary experience.

  “And there we were just cleaning when he shoved us into the bathroom. It was unbelievable.” Millicent traced her fingers on the back of Trent’s neck. “If it wasn’t for you he would’ve killed us. I think...you saved my life.”

  Trent stiffened and gripped the wheel. “I highly doubt he would’ve killed you for trying to be helpful.” He shrugged her hand off his neck. “Why were you cleaning without his permission?”

  The silence fell swift and sharp. Holly kept her mouth clamped shut. Let Millicent explain her way out of this one considering it was her plan.

  Millicent’s breath hitched and a soft sob broke through. “I didn’t want to but she was so desperate, so convinced Joel was guilty she was willing to break in and claim we found the door unlocked. I felt guilty the entire time but succumbed to the pressure because I just got back into the mystery book club and that really helps my writing. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Millicent.” Trent spoke soft and with a lot concern. “You should never do something if you’re not comfortable with it. You just politely say no.”

  Holly kept her forehead pressed to the window, refusing to look in the rearview mirror, knowing what she’d find there. Trent’s burning gaze silently asked what she was thinking. How could he not see through Millicent’s act?

  “I know. I know. I should’ve called you.”

  He patted her leg. “Well, it’s all over now.”

  Millicent let go of their experience and babbled on about her writing and her mystery novel. Holly tuned her out, thinking back on Joel. It was rather curious that even with Millicent’s switch in personality from innocent to flirty to subtly threatening, he didn
’t give them up to the cops. What would he have done if they’d let Trent leave? In a way, Holly wished that had happened. Maybe he would’ve revealed more.

  They pulled into the station, and Holly let out a sigh. It always came to this: Holly at the station, answering questions, dealing with Chief Hardy.

  Trent opened her door. “Why don’t you go on inside? I’ll follow in a minute.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” Holly headed to the entrance.

  “Wait!” Millicent cried. “Shouldn’t I come in too? I don’t want to see Holly punished. I was there too. I won’t let that happen.”

  Out of their hearing, Holly let out a soft snort. Right. Whatever. Millicent didn’t want to leave Holly and Trent alone. She didn’t want to miss out on any conversation about the current investigation.

  “Now, now, you should go to your dad’s, write, help in the kitchen. Work on your article for the Daily Paper. I’ll be by later and give you lift back to get your car. Holly will be just fine.”

  Not wanting to hear Millicent’s response or any of her lies, Holly let the station door slip closed behind her. She stepped to the side and looked out the small windowpane alongside the door.

  Millicent swayed close to Trent, taking advantage of every opportunity. She rubbed his arm. She kept him out there talking for quite a bit longer. Now Holly wished she’d tried to listen. If anything, to know what lies she was spouting.

  Finally, Millicent leaned up and kissed his cheek.

  Even though she and Trent were on shaky ground, a part of Holly didn’t want to believe that somehow Millicent had wedged herself between them. But the way Trent spoke to her, the way he let her kiss him created a ball of emotion in Holly’s throat, a clenched fist that cut off her breathing.

  “Well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Chief Hardy.

  Slowly, Holly turned. “Good afternoon, Chief Hardy.”

  Hardy lifted her cap. “Glad to see you’re not here in cuffs this time.”

  “Right.” Holly forced out a laugh. “Not planning on that anytime soon.”