by Nancy CoCo
“Oh, I have some idea,” I said. It had taken special crime scene cleaners to come in after they took away the body of my papa’s archenemy that I found in my utility closet earlier this year.
“Oh that’s right,” Blake said. “I forgot about your crime scene. That seems a hundred years ago.”
“It was April,” I said. “I still have the card of the company who cleaned up, if you want the information. They did a great job in the McMurphy. You can’t tell anything happened.”
“Yes, please,” Blake said. “That would help.”
“Not a worry, I’ll e-mail you their info when I get back.” I made a note in my phone to remind me. “It sounds like a really big fund-raiser.”
“Yes, that’s our hope.” Blake folded her hands on the top of her desk. “Victoria has it all in order. So we’re good once you and the McMurphy are on board. That is if Victoria isn’t arrested. If that happens, we’re all in a pickle because she has everything in her head.”
“She needs to write it down,” I said. “Not that she’s going to be arrested, but she could get sick, etc. It’s always good to put your plans on paper.”
“That’s very true. Are you investigating the murder? Because, if that were solved, we could all go about our day not worrying over the fund-raiser.”
“I’m sure Officer Manning has it all under control.” I tried to put up a professional front. After all, I wasn’t a law enforcement person. “Tell me, do you know why Barbara was in the Butterfly House that morning? I was told it was to meet Victoria and discuss the fund-raiser, but they could have done that anywhere.”
“Oh, Victoria wanted to see the space and take measurements. We hoped to have a tour of the Butterfly House as one of the events.”
“That explains why Tori was there, but why Barbara?”
Blake drew her brows together. “I thought because she wanted to talk details with Victoria.”
“Barbara came down quite hard on Victoria the night before in front of a lot of people on the dock. Do you think she expected Victoria to forget about that?” I asked.
“Maybe she wanted to apologize. I know sometimes I fly off the handle and then realize later that an apology is needed.”
“But everyone so far hasn’t been surprised Barbara was there—even Victoria said they were meeting about the fund-raiser.”
“I think you need to talk to Victoria about that,” Blake said and waved off my question.
“You must have been there to open the door that morning,” I said. “Did you hear anything? A fight? Anything?”
“Oh no, dear, I already told Rex that I opened the back door and let Barbara in and then I had to run to another meeting. By the time I got back it was all over.”
“Who works in the gardens? Were they there that morning?”
“Emma works in the gardens,” Blake said and tapped her fingers on her chin. “She has a cold and was off yesterday. She said she went to Mackinaw City to spend the day with her mother pampering her. Why do you ask?”
“I think the murder was a crime of opportunity,” I said. “No one plans to kill someone with a garden trowel. I would imagine it’s very difficult.”
“I’m pretty sure Emma wasn’t there.” Blake frowned. “But if she wasn’t there, then the hand spade should have been put away. We have a storage place that holds a workbench and everything has its place. I like to be meticulous in that way.”
“Can I see the space?”
“Sure,” Blake said. We both got up and I followed her through the Butterfly House. The butterflies floated around the flowers and plants, landing on the crime scene tape as if it were just another part of the exhibit. I was careful where I stepped. We passed through the vinyl flaps at the back to a shed just outside the greenhouse. She opened the door and turned on the light. The place was anything but neat as a pin. Someone had come in and clearly searched it—pots were overturned, hand hoes were scattered around the floor, a watering can sat on its side on the floor. Bags of mulch were torn open and so were bags of dirt. The dirt and mulch were scattered around the concrete floor in piles. “I don’t understand,” Blake said. “Who would do this?”
I reached for my phone and speed-dialed Rex.
“Manning,” he said in his clear baritone that always slid pleasantly over my skin.
“Hi, Rex, it’s Allie.”
“Is there another body?”
Why was that always the first question out of everyone’s mouth when I called? I did a silent eye roll. “No, but I’m at the Butterfly House with Mrs. Gilmore and someone has trashed her work shed. It looks like they were looking for something. I think it may be connected to Barbara’s murder.”
“Don’t touch anything,” Rex said sternly. “I’ll be right there.”
I hung up the phone and looked at Blake. “He said not to touch anything.”
“All right,” she agreed.
I stepped into the shed and looked around. “What do you suppose they were looking for? I mean, why open mulch and soil and dump it out?”
“I’m not sure,” Blake said. “Maybe they were angry.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Do you know of anyone who is upset with the Butterfly House?”
“Goodness, no,” she said.
“Did you get a shipment of anything rare or expensive lately? Maybe they were looking to steal it.”
“We did get a box of rare chrysalises from Africa just a few days ago. Because of their rarity, I didn’t put them in the chrysalis box at the front of the house. Instead I put them in a viewing box in our second office. Then I put a camera on it to stream it so that people can watch the butterflies emerge on-line.”
“How rare are they?”
“They cost a thousand dollars each and there were four.”
“Wow, I didn’t know it cost so much to have butterflies.”
“Curating rare breeds is an art and a science,” she said, her tone proud. “Do you think that’s what they were looking for?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe they came in looking for that and when they didn’t find it they got mad and trashed the shed. If Barbara surprised them, then they could have picked up what was handy and stabbed her.”
“That’s a good theory,” Rex said behind me. “But there is no proof of anything other than someone clearly was looking for something they thought was hidden in the shed.” He pulled out his flashlight and hit my eyes. “I thought I told you not to touch anything.”
“I didn’t,” I said and put my hand up to block the light. “I just took two steps inside.”
“Now you can take two steps outside,” he said. “Please.”
“Fine.” I did what he said and watched as he took his flashlight and looked around. The light was on so I didn’t think he needed the flashlight, but it did illuminate dark corners and really exposed the extent of damage done. I turned to Blake. “Have you checked on the rare butterflies lately?”
“No,” she said. “Surely whoever did this would know that the rare butterflies are on camera. We would catch anyone who tried to make off with them.”
“Maybe they didn’t know the butterflies were being taped,” I suggested.
“Have you checked on them?” Rex asked.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Blake said. “I was just in there before the murder.”
“We’d better check it out,” I said.
“Don’t go anywhere in here without me,” Rex warned. He stepped out of the shed. “Maybe you two should stay outside.”
“No,” Blake said. “This is my place, my office. If someone stole from the Butterfly House, I want to know.”
“Fine,” Rex said. “But stay behind me and don’t touch anything.”
He took us back through the Butterfly House around the crime scene and into the lobby area where you bought tickets. The offices were down the hall to the left of the ticket booth. Blake unlocked the door to the second office and pushed it open.
Inside was a huge mess. It was
immediately clear that someone had come in and tossed the room. Blake gasped at the mess. I stuck my head in and noticed the glass box with the heat lamp and chrysalises was intact. Whatever they were looking for, it wasn’t exotic butterflies.
“Stay back, ladies,” Rex warned and pushed past us. He hit his walkie-talkie and called in reinforcements.
“What the devil were they looking for?” Blake asked.
“Whoever did it had to have a key to this office,” I said and studied the door. “You unlocked it, so the lock wasn’t left open.” I ran my fingers along the wood. “It doesn’t appear to be broken either.”
“I’m the only one who has a key to this office,” Blake said and put her hand on her mouth. “How could they get in and do all this damage without a key?”
“They must have made a copy of it. Where do you put the key when it’s not in use?”
“I keep it on my key chain with my house keys. That is in my purse and my purse I keep locked in a filing cabinet.” Blake looked unsettled. “I don’t know how they would have gotten ahold of the key, but, if they copied it, then they must have copies of my house keys as well.” She grabbed her cell phone. “I’m going to get my locks changed right now.”
“Wait,” Rex said. “Let me send a patrol over to your house and see if there has been a break-in. If so, we’ll have to process it before you change the locks.”
“I’m going to head over there right now,” Blake said. “I may be the only one who knows if something is missing.”
“Wait for the officers before you go in.”
“Oh”—Blake put her hand on her throat—“do you think whoever did this could still be in my house?”
“I’d rather not take any chances.”
“This is all too much.” Blake sat down hard in a chair in the hallway.
“Let me get you some water,” I said and went off to locate the vending machine near the entrance to the exhibit. I put in my money and listened to the kerthump of the bottle hitting the bottom of the machine and I pulled it out, to come face-to-face with Rex. “Oh! You startled me.”
“Not my intention,” he said. His gorgeous blue gaze was very close. “Listen, go with her, will you? Try to get her to tell you about how and where she keeps her keys. Get her mind off this.”
“Sure thing,” I said with a nod. “Do you think this is related to the murder? Or just an opportunity seized by thieves?”
“If Blake is right, they left the most valuable thing in her office.”
“So not an opportunity for theft.”
“I’m ruling it out for now.”
A thought occurred to me. “Do you think Blake Gilmore was the intended victim?”
“Who would want to kill me?” Blake said behind Rex.
I winced at being overheard.
Rex turned on his heel. “The two things are most likely not connected,” he said gently. “But I’ve asked Allie to spend some time with you while we get a better handle on the situation.”
“I hope that’s okay,” I said and handed her the bottle of water. “I know I wouldn’t want to be alone right now if I were you.”
She swallowed visibly. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead. “Yes, yes, I will feel better if I’m not alone. I still can’t figure out how they got copies of my keys.” She opened the water and took a long swig. “Wait, that means that they could have been inside the Butterfly House before I opened it the morning of the murder.” She shivered. “I could have walked right past a killer and not even known it.”
I patted her hand as she swayed at the thought. “You’re safe now,” I said.
“You see this stuff on TV, but you never imagine it could happen in real life.”
“I know,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go check out your home. Perhaps they left it untouched.”
“I’m still changing the locks,” she said as I drew her toward the outside. “It’s too creepy to think that someone could have copies of my keys. I will have a hard enough time falling asleep as it is.”
“I’m sure Rex can have a patrol come by your home the next few days, can’t you, Rex?” I asked.
“You bet,” he said. “The patrolmen are at your house now. Please go. And Mrs. Gilmore . . .”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about this.”
“Thank you, young man. I am, too.”
Chapter 9
Officer Brent Pulaski and Officer Lasko were at Mrs. Gilmore’s small cottage when we arrived. Their patrol bikes were parked outside and Officer Lasko walked the perimeter and Officer Pulaski waited for us by the door.
“I tried the handle, and it’s locked,” he said. “I knew you were on your way so I didn’t break in.”
“Thank you,” Blake said and handed me her nearly empty water bottle. She pulled out the keys. Her hands shook as she unlocked her door and let it swing open. “I can’t look,” she said and stepped aside, closing her eyes.
Brent went in with his flashlight on and his gun drawn. I stayed outside, but peered into the living area. The living area was cluttered and dusty as if it was well lived in, but nothing was tossed like it was in the Butterfly House. Officer Lasko glared at me and brushed past.
I have no idea why she didn’t like me. But it seemed that ever since she first laid eyes on me she was upset that I was on the island. I guess sometimes you just don’t like a person right off. I never felt that way, but Jenn assured me that it can happen. So I took Officer Lasko’s dislike as a quirk of her personality.
“I don’t think they’re in your home,” I said. “It looks pretty normal from here.”
The older woman opened her eyes and peered inside. “Oh, thank goodness!” She went to take a step in, but I stopped her.
“We have to wait until they clear the entire place. The living room looks fine but that doesn’t mean it’s safe yet.”
“Right,” she said with a sigh. I gave her back her water bottle and patted her hand. She clenched the water bottle. “I just don’t understand how they could have made a copy of my keys. They are usually on my person.”
“Do you have a place you keep them when you are home? Or in your office?”
“I keep them in the side pocket of my purse,” she said.
“And where do you keep your purse?”
“On the hall tree. As soon as I enter, I set it down and take off my shoes.”
“So, right here by the door.”
“Yes.”
“Has anyone been in your house lately? A visitor or a worker?”
“I did have a cable company worker in two days ago. He had to replace my Wi-Fi modem. The thing was acting up. But when he replaced it, it still wasn’t right, so he went outside and replaced the cable to the main line. It’s worked ever since.”
“Do you remember if he was near your purse?” I asked.
“He could have been,” she said. “We stood and talked in the foyer.”
“So he could have taken your keys when he was inside, gone and made copies, then returned them when he came back to tell you he changed the main line and had you sign off on the work.”
“Oh my, yes, he could have.” She frowned. “Why would Sean Grady want my keys? What is he looking for in the Butterfly House?”
“Sean Grady was the cable guy?”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s a small island. I’ve known Sean since he was knee high to a grasshopper.”
“The place is clear,” Officer Pulaski said as he came out of the house. “It looks like they didn’t touch anything. Why don’t you come in, Mrs. Gilmore, and take a look around just to be sure?”
“I’ll go right in,” Blake said and stepped inside. Her nervousness had settled a bit.
Officer Lasko came and stood by the door. I stepped past Officer Lasko with a grim smile. “Do you think they only wanted something at the Butterfly House?”
“You need to leave the investigating to the professionals,” the officer growled at me and gave me the stink eye.
&nbs
p; “Hey, Rex told me to walk her over here.” I studied the living room. It was a bit dusty and cluttered but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t tossed.
“My rings!” I heard Blake shout from her bedroom. She came out with a ring box in her hand. “Someone was here. They took my heirloom diamond rings. I had two of them.” She lifted the box to show us it was empty.
Office Pulaski slipped on some gloves and took the box from her. He pulled an evidence bag out of his back pocket and slipped the ring box into it. “We’ll have Shane dust it for prints. Let me suggest that Allie take you to the McMurphy for the afternoon. We’ll have Shane come out and go over your home for prints and such.”
“But how will he know what else is missing? I mean, they didn’t search my home like they searched the Butterfly House.”
“Here, put on these gloves and booties,” he said to Mrs. Gilmore. “Officer Lasko will walk you through the house. And make a list of things you find missing.” He turned to me as Blake put on the booties and gloves. “Allie, you should go. I don’t want to contaminate the crime scene any more than I need to.”
“Okay,” I said. “Blake, come to the McMurphy after you are done here. Frances will get you a soothing cup of tea and you can use the Wi-Fi while the officers go over your house.”
“Okay, Allie,” she said and went back into her bedroom. Officer Pulaski walked me out to the small porch.
“Thanks for bringing her by, Allie,” he said. “I understand the shed in the Butterfly House was pretty bad off.”
“Whatever they were looking for, I’m not sure they found it,” I said. “It doesn’t feel the same as this.” I nodded toward the house. “This feels careful and calculated. I mean, only Mrs. Gilmore could tell they were even in her home. Meanwhile the Butterfly House was torn apart and left as if they didn’t care one bit if they got caught.”
“Did she give you any idea who might have done such a thing?”
“She has no idea. She keeps the keys in her purse and only the cable guy has been in her home.”
“What about when she is at the Butterfly House?”
