by Harper Lin
“So I asked him what he was doing at the fundraiser, and he told me his date brought him. Well, Spencer, who is your date? I mean, I know these people. I’d have heard if anyone mentioned the name Spencer Randall.”
Bonnie took a sip of coffee.
“He tells me he’s with Florence Carmichael. I nearly choked on air.”
“Who is Florence Carmichael?”
“She’s a woman in her late fifties. Look up the definition of cougar, and you’ll find her picture. She was married to a distant cousin of a Kennedy who died after six years, leaving her a very wealthy widow.”
“Oh, I see.” Amelia nodded.
“Right. He likes the older ladies.”
“He was like that in high school. I remember him going out with that other girl from our senior class.” Amelia snapped her fingers as she tried to remember. “Amy Overby. She fell for him, too.”
“That’s right. Until she found out that he had been getting a lift home with that really snooty junior who had a BMW. What was her name?”
“I can’t remember, but I remember the drama. That was like those scripted World Wrestling Federation rivalries. They were ready to go toe to toe over him. Was he really that good looking?” Amelia asked.
“When I saw him, I hate to say it, but he aged well. I mean, really well. But the story doesn’t end there.” Bonnie stopped to tell her photographer, who had finished packing up, to go ahead, that she would meet him at the office.
“Candace Rosenbaum,” Bonnie continued. “She’s this socialite philanthropist who never did a day of real work in her life. She and Florence are always all over the NUVO paper and those glossies that list the expensive real estate and new restaurants. They cover every gala in town. I’ve met her more than once, and I don’t like her. She comes across very snooty. Well, she and Florence now have a bit of a rivalry going on. It didn’t exist until Spencer Randall showed up.”
“That’s exactly what a man like him needs.” Amelia chuckled. “Two women fighting over him. He’s got to be loving that.”
“That night he did. I saw him sneak off with Candace while Florence was chatting up some congressman. Then I saw him acting rather inappropriately with one of the servers hired for the event. She couldn’t have been a day over twenty.”
“Who has that kind of energy?” Amelia laughed.
“I know I don’t,” Bonnie replied. “But if this is how he behaved at a formal event, I can only imagine how he acted on your average Tuesday. I’m not surprised he was found dead.”
“Gosh, I didn’t even ask. You said he was found at the hiking trail? What did he have? A heart attack?”
Bonnie shook her head slowly. “He was beaten to death. He still had chalk on his hands. Apparently he liked to climb the rocks down that path.”
“Really?” Now it was Amelia who looked a little too eager for all the gory details. “Do they have a suspect?”
“That’s going to be interesting. I guarantee the police are going to have quite a long list of scorned women to sift through. Now is the time I wish I had some connections to the police department. I’d love to be a fly on the wall to hear the details from all those women they’re going to have to question.”
“You’re telling me.” Amelia didn’t say anything more. Instead, she let Bonnie wrap up the interview. She told Amelia it would be a glowing review, even if they hadn’t known each other in high school. Then just as quickly as she arrived, Bonnie Paffenberger was gone.
“So, how did it go?” Lila asked.
“I went to high school with that woman.”
“Great. That means she’ll give you a good write-up?”
“That’s what she said. She also gave me an earful of gossip about one of our classmates. Sounds like someone suffered foul play.”
“Really? Amelia, did you ever stop and think how weird it is that these kinds of life events, or maybe I should say death events, fall into your lap?”
“If I wanted to freak myself out, I’d focus on it. But I’d rather think I am just in the right place at the right time.”
“I read a study that every normal person in the United States will cross paths with at least seven serial killers in their lifetime and not know it,” Beatrice piped up.
“You are a font of knowledge, Bea,” Lila replied. “Scary knowledge but knowledge nonetheless.”
Beatrice smiled as she turned and stuck a fresh batch of cupcakes into oven number three.
“That’s a creepy thought,” Amelia replied.
“That creeps you out, but yet you’re going to actively snoop around this classmate’s death for fun?” Lila teased.
“I don’t think it’s fun.” She pouted. “I just think it’s fascinating. Plus, Dan is always involved in these things, so it would be rude not to take an interest in his work.”
“Speaking of Detective Walishovski,” Lila continued, “how are you guys doing?”
“We’re doing fine. At least, I’m doing fine. I think I better call him and see how he’s doing. Especially if he is investigating the untimely demise of my classmate Spencer Randall.”
Amelia pulled out her phone and speed-dialed Dan Walishovski, senior detective on the Portland Police Department.
Chapter Three
“This is a pleasant surprise.” Dan’s deep voice always brought a smile to Amelia’s face. “How did your interview with Food & Wine go today?”
Amelia had only mentioned the interview once, and that had been when she got the initial request over email. It was sweet of Dan to remember.
“It went very well. The columnist interviewing me was a high school classmate of mine.”
“That’s lucky.”
“I thought so. We had a nice chat about the business, and then she told me some really interesting news. She said that a guy we went to school with was found dead yesterday. Spencer Randall. She said he was beaten to death. Do you know anything about this?”
“News travels fast,” Dan replied. “How about I tell you all about it over dinner tonight. Our regular seat at Moody’s?”
“That would be great. Meg is already going to Katherine’s, and Adam is at that age where having the house to himself is preferable.” She smiled. “Meet you there at six?”
“It’s a date.”
Amelia was already sitting in the cozy booth for two at the back of Moody’s restaurant, hearing her stomach grumble as she smelled the charbroiled burgers sizzling in the kitchen. When she shifted in her seat, peanut shells crackled beneath her shoes.
She’d only been there about ten minutes when she saw the familiar silhouette walk in. Dan was tall, and because he wore a jacket and slacks every day, it made him look lanky. But Amelia knew he had a healthy athletic body, having seen him on his days off at her house playing board games with the kids in his sweats and a T-shirt. He had the face of a military man, with his salt-and-pepper hair cut close at the sides and just a little longer on the top. Unlike John, he was not losing his hair.
“Is this seat taken?” His eyes smiled.
“Now it is,” she said as Dan gave her a kiss on top of the head. “I brought you some goodies to take back to the precinct. Just in case you or your guys get hungry later.” She handed him a hot-pink pastry box filled with leftover cupcakes.
“The guys are turning into Pavlov’s dogs. Every time they see me come in with one of these boxes, they start to drool,” Dan said, taking the box and setting it next to him.
After they ordered a couple of cheeseburgers and some onion rings plus an order for Adam that Amelia would bring home, she asked, “So, what have you found out about Spencer Randall?”
“I’m learning to hate that guy. He’s already caused me more aggravation than any living person I know.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I’ve had at least four women calling the station asking me to confirm if the Spencer Randall is their Spencer Randall.”
“And?”
“In every instance, it has been.”
> “How have the women reacted?” Amelia was fascinated.
Dan rolled his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. “They are all over the place. One lady cried. Another one laughed. One woman started to cuss, and I had to threaten her with a citation for making an obscene phone call to the precinct.”
Amelia laughed, especially since Dan said this with his usual stoic face. If they were a comedy team, Dan was certainly the straight guy.
“Did you happen to get a phone call from a Florence Carmichael or a Candace Rosenbaum?” Amelia explained what Bonnie had told her and waited for Dan’s response.
“No. But that’s helpful. Thanks for the tip.” He winked just as their food arrived.
They ate, and the conversation changed from the death of Randall Spencer to what Adam and Meg were doing, how the quirky Beatrice Mooch was working out, what other cases had fallen on Dan’s desk, and half a dozen other random things until they finished their meal and Spencer Randall popped back up.
“I will tell you this, and it’s not for publication,” Dan said as they were leaving.
Dan had a funny way of taking Amelia by the arm as if she were under arrest and leading her to her car. To people walking down the street, it had to look brutish. But Amelia melted a little when he took hold of her. No one had to know how gentle his touch was. It was her secret, and she liked it that way.
She looked up at him curiously.
“Whoever caught up with your pal Spencer really didn’t like him. The coroner said just from looking at him, there were more than one hundred separate bruises. Whoever did this wasn’t just angry. I don’t even think furious is strong enough a word.”
“Hell hath no fury,” Amelia replied.
“Don’t I know it.” He opened Amelia’s car door for her, and before she climbed inside, he took a step closer to her. She loved to look up to see his handsome, serious face. He made her feel safe. “I’ve got to get back to the station. This case isn’t going to solve itself.”
“Good luck,” Amelia said, smiling.
“Think you might have some time for a visitor tomorrow?”
“Of course. The kids will be happy to see you.”
Dan nodded. A smile was hard to come by, but whenever Meg and Adam were mentioned, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t hold back a slight curve at the corner of his lips. It warmed Amelia’s heart that he had taken to the kids. But even more importantly, they had accepted him. He wasn’t their father, and he never tried to be, but he was a man they could turn to if they needed him. Children could pick up on that. They knew when a person genuinely cared and when they were just putting on a show. With Dan, honesty was his number-one quality.
He waited until she pulled out of the parking lot, then Amelia saw him climb into his plain, police-issued car and drive in the opposite direction toward the station.
Once she got home, she waved hello to Adam. He was on the phone with his friend Amy Leonard, who lived down the street. She set his takeout down and waited for him to come and get it. Adam and Amy walked to the bus stop together every morning. Had a couple classes together. Came home together. What they could possibly talk about for so long was a mystery to Amelia, but whatever it was, she could hear him laughing.
Taking her laptop from the coffee table where she had been doing her books the night before, Amelia decided she would take a look and see if Spencer Randall had any kind of internet presence.
When she did, she was shocked at what she found.
For a minute, she thought she’d gotten a virus that led her to some adult website, but then she realized that wasn’t it at all. Spencer just liked to have his picture taken shirtless.
“Yikes. He did age well. It’s a shame he had the ability to talk,” Amelia muttered to herself. Almost every picture was of Spencer flexing. His Facebook page was loaded with what looked like pictures of him on vacation after vacation. They were dated. The last entry had been just the day before yesterday.
“How can he post so much? There is something posted every hour,” Amelia mumbled as she scrolled through his pictures. His captions were simple. “Looking good. Feeling good.” Or “Living the life.” There were hundreds of likes. Spencer had hundreds of followers.
Next, she saw he also had a YouTube channel.
“Hello, hello, hello, sexy ladies. This is Spencer, and thanks for coming by for a visit.”
Amelia cringed. Here was this guy who was just a few years younger than her, and he was acting like a frat boy on spring break. She watched with gross fascination as he described himself and the workout that he was going to be showing everyone and reminded everyone to sign up for his channel.
“If this is an exercise video, I’d hate to see what Spencer considers porn,” Amelia muttered as she watched her old classmate, wearing nothing but a shiny sky-blue Speedo, did some stretching, lifted a few weights, and then took a shower—still wearing the Speedo—all in slow motion.
There were little buttons for Snapchat and Instagram, but Amelia had no access to that since she didn’t know what they were exactly. She considered asking her kids. Adam would be able to help her for sure. But then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her kids to see what might or might not be on Spencer’s accounts. If this was what he had on Facebook and YouTube, there was no telling what might be on these other sites.
Going back to the Facebook account, Amelia tried to look for a name or face she recognized. There were dozens and dozens of images of women in bikinis or tight-fitting athletic wear. Some were happy to lean over a little farther as they smiled and hung on Spencer as if he was a life preserver.
There was an older woman with gray hair pulled straight back tightly away from her face. She was beautiful, and her body was toned and healthy even though it was obvious from sun spots and wrinkled hands that she was older than Spencer.
Quite a few images of him with this woman popped up. There was one with Spencer holding up his wrist, showcasing a watch as far as Amelia could tell. This same woman was kissing his cheek as he made love to the camera like a bimbo in some Calvin Klein commercial. The watch looked expensive.
After sitting at her computer for almost forty minutes, Amelia was about to call it quits when she stumbled on a picture of Spencer wearing a tuxedo.
“Sports Legends event sucked,” he had written in the caption. The pictures were of several ladies at the event. All middle-aged. All very attractive, with tight-fitting dresses and dripping with diamonds and gold. That same woman with the pulled-back gray hair had been at this event. She smiled seductively. There were a few selfies. Then Amelia saw something that made her gasp and slap her hand over her mouth. Spencer had taken a few photos of more than one woman at this event and himself that were quite revealing.
“Who does this?” She gasped. “Is that what I think it is? Isn’t there a law against putting this on your Facebook page?” Her eyes bugged.
Just then the basement door flew open and Adam trotted into the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi! Adam!” She slammed her laptop shut. “Oh, uh, here’s your food.”
“Thanks.” He squinted at his mother. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Oh, nothing.” She swallowed. “Well, I found out a classmate of mine died, and they suspect foul play. So I was just looking him up online and, well, let’s just say the guy had some weird hobbies. Very weird.”
She thought to ask him about Instagram and Snapchat but decided she’d find another way.
“Eww,” Adam said as he snatched up the plastic carry-out container. “Now Mom, do we need to have a talk about being responsible with the computer? Online porn is a sweeping epidemic. Once you get started, it’s like meth. Your brain gets totally rewired.”
“Very funny, young man,” Amelia said with a straight face.
“I better talk to Dan. We might have to stage an intervention.”
“Right. Good-bye, Adam.” She shooed him back downstairs. Chuckling, he left, closing the door behind
him.
After exiting out from Facebook and YouTube and everything else, Amelia set her computer aside, grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, and started to make a list of supplies she knew the Pink Cupcake was going to need soon.
But her mind kept drifting back to the athletic older woman with the slicked-back gray hair. Funny that Spencer didn’t say anything like “With my friend Sally at the rich people being rich event.” He never mentioned anyone else’s name.
“That’s called narcissism, Amelia,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. The clock on the wall read ten to eight. Right on time, Amelia heard a car pull up in the driveway. One door opened and slammed shut. There was some shouting of code words and phrases that made no sense and then a flurry of giggles. Meg was home.
“Hi, Mom. Watcha doin’?”
“Just making out my shopping list. How are things with Katherine?”
“Fine. Her brother got a lizard.”
“Why? Eww.”
“I know. He named it Bertha. It’s got tiny claws, and it stares.”
“What do they feed it?”
“Crickets.”
“Eww, again.”
“Yeah, her brother is weird.”
“Did you finish your homework?”
“Yes. I’m going to take a shower. Is that okay?”
“Sure, honey.”
As Meg’s feet pounded up the stairs, Amelia hoped that her daughter would never fall victim to the kind of tired lines that a guy like Spencer Randall used.
Chapter Four
“Mom, can we get some Doritos?” Adam asked as he grabbed the biggest bag of chips he could get his hands on.
“Yeah. Now you guys need to help me concentrate,” Amelia said as she scoured her grocery list. “Meg, go to the baking aisle and get me a packet of paper cupcake cups.”
“Are you trying a new recipe?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she pinched her brother’s arm.
