"No, that's it."
"You're a good detective, Summer. Thank you for being part of this case. I really enjoyed getting to know you … and um … hanging out with you."
After we hung up, I sank down into the closest chair. The heady feeling I had when working on that case made me nervous. If I didn't watch out, the temptation to go back into law enforcement would be too much to resist. I closed my eyes and thought for a few minutes before I rejoined my parents in the kitchen. They both glanced up at me when I walked in.
"I've decided to look into culinary arts," I announced.
Mom and Dad exchanged a look of disbelief before Mom turned toward me. "That's an excellent idea, Summer. Have a seat and let's talk about it while you finish your soup."
Offed at the Office
A Summer Walsh cozy mystery novella
Deborah Tisdale
Chapter 1
"I am so exhausted." I flopped down on the chair at my parents' kitchen table. "Who knew temp work could be so tiring?"
Mom smiled. "You'll get used to it, I'm sure."
I could see the look of relief in her eyes that I'd finally found something to fill the gap on my resume. After I left my job as a detective with the Nashville Police Department, I'd had one miserable job after another. It wasn't that the positions were all that bad. It was just that I wasn't cut out for the work.
At least now if I hated a job, I knew I'd only have to be there for a short time. The one I was currently holding was supposed to last ninety days while the woman I was filling in for had time to bond with her new baby.
"Did you learn anything new?" Mom lovingly placed a platter of cookies in front of me.
I shrugged as I took a cookie and nibbled around the edge. "I met a bunch of people, and they showed me around the office."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
Just as I was about to tell her about the filing project I'd started and how boring it was, my phone rang. I looked at it but didn't recognize the number. All I knew was that it was an Atlanta area code.
"I'd better see who this is." Before Mom could say a word, I pressed the ON button and answered as I stood up and walked into the hallway, away from Mom's eager ears.
"I-is this Summer Walsh?" a familiar sounding woman said.
"Yes."
"This is Darla Moyer. Remember me?"
"From Tiddly Winks?" I said. "How's everyone at the day care center?"
"Um … not so good. There's been a …" Her voice trailed off, and I thought I heard her sniffle.
"Darla, what's going on? Are you crying?"
She burst into a full-blown sob. "It wasn't me. I didn't do it, I promise."
"Didn't do what?"
"Mr. Van Houghton. He's been …" Her voice shook so much I couldn't understand what she said next.
"What did Mr. Van Houghton do?" I asked. "He did give you that promotion he promised, didn't he?"
"Yes, but …" She sniffled again. "He's dead."
"He's dead?" My body went numb. "What happened?"
"Someone—" The sound of a call beeping through interrupted her. I held the phone a few inches away to see who it was. This was a call I had to take.
"Darla, can you hold on a minute? Vince Yates is trying to call me."
She let out another shaky sob but didn't say anything.
"Tell you what, Darla. Why don't you take a few deep breaths and maybe drink some water. I'll call you back, okay?"
Before she had a chance to reply, I clicked into the waiting call. "Hey, Vince, what's up?"
"There's been another murder, and I wondered if you might be able to … well, you know, come back to Atlanta and talk to a few people for me."
"Vince, you know I'm not—"
"I know you're not in law enforcement, and I'm not asking you to do this officially. In fact, I couldn't do that even if I wanted to. It's just a personal favor that would make my life much easier."
"You know I'm all about making your life easier, Vince." I laughed but quickly stopped. After all, we were talking about a murder.
He sighed. "You know what I mean. Some of the people we need to get information from aren't exactly forthcoming."
"Let me guess," I said. "Darla Moyer is an emotional mess, and she can't talk because she can't stop crying."
"See? You just seem to know these things."
"I was just talking to her, and you beeped in on her call. She was sobbing when she told me Mr. Van Houghton had died, but she didn't mention a murder."
"Can you get away for a few days?"
If this had been anything but a murder, I would have said no. But how could I refuse? It meant that I'd have to call the temp agency and let them know they'd need to find someone else, but since I wasn't really all that into the job anyway…. Well, how could I say no?
After we hung up, I called Darla back. She sounded like she'd been crying ever since Vincent beeped in on our call.
"I … he … they keep asking me questions, but I don't know any of the answers, and … I …" She hiccupped.
"Darla, I'm coming to Atlanta, and we can talk in person, okay?"
"Okay." Her voice came out in a tiny squeak. "When will you be here?"
"As soon as I can make arrangements."
The instant I reentered the kitchen, Mom took one look at me and shook her head. "No, Summer, don't do it."
"Don't do what?"
"I've seen that look in your eyes before. What are you getting involved in this time?"
I sat down across from her and told her about the phone calls. "Mom, I know you're worried about me, but they need me."
She opened her mouth but closed it without saying a word. I knew that look of resignation. Mom knew better than to try to talk me out of what I was about to do.
"When are you leaving?" she finally asked.
"I'm not sure. I have to call Vince back and find out more details." I paused for a moment. "And I suppose I should probably call and check on Darla again. She sounded like she was about to come unglued."
"Most people would sound that way," Mom said softly.
She was right. I've seen many people fall apart emotionally after a murder … including me. Even though I appeared strong, that was a façade. Deep down, I was just as bad off as the worst of them. The very thought of taking another person's life was an injustice. The act of anyone actually carrying it out made me shiver in anger and disgust.
After I polished off another one of Mom's crisp-on-the-outside but moist-and-chewy-on-the-inside chocolate chip cookies, I excused myself and went out to the garage apartment that my parents so generously let me stay in until I could figure out what I wanted to do with my life.
The place was small but very nice. I didn't have many possessions, so it was mostly free from clutter. The furnishings were items that my parents passed down after redecorating their house a few years ago, so I knew it was all well made and would hold up to a small amount of wear from me. Mom occasionally brought pictures over and swapped them out for the ones she'd hung before. Otherwise, the walls would most likely be bare.
I pulled up Vince's number and pressed CALL. He answered right away. "So are you coming?"
"Yes. I need to know more, though."
"Claude Van Houghton was found murdered at his desk yesterday afternoon." Vince's tone sounded professional as he explained that a noose was still around his neck when his body was discovered.
"Who found him?" I asked.
"Darla Moyer."
"Oh, so that explains the hysterics. Finding a dead body would shake anyone up."
"Maybe that's why …" He let out a chuckle. "Or perhaps it has something to do with the questioning."
"Any suspects yet?" I asked.
"What do you think? Who is the first person you always suspected when you investigated a crime?"
"The wife?" I paused as my conversation with Darla flashed through my mind, and I realized Mrs. Van Houghton wasn't his prime suspect. "Don't tell me—"
Chapter 2
I wanted to hear it from Vince. "Are you saying that Darla Moyer is a suspect?"
"Wouldn't that be logical? After all, he treated her like dirt."
"Wait a minute, Vince. Let's back up a minute. Why would it be logical, and how do you know he treated her like dirt?"
"Because—" Vince stopped and sighed, obviously frustrated. "You did say you were coming, right?"
"You heard right." He'd obviously tried to divert the conversation. "Did someone tell you that Mr. Van Houghton treated Darla like dirt?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
Vince sighed. "One of the other teachers at the daycare center gave us a full statement about how frustrated Darla was every time she came back from his office."
"Which teacher?"
"You don't let up, do you?"
"Look, Vince, I'm not going unless you tell me who all you've been talking to."
"Okay, it was Julie, but she only told us when we pressed." He paused. "When can you be here?" he asked, his tone quite a bit lighter.
"I'm hoping tomorrow afternoon, but I have to make sure the temp agency can find someone to cover for me."
"Temp work, huh?" Vince chuckled. "When will you come to your senses and get back into law enforcement?"
"I'm not ready yet."
"Oh, but I disagree, Summer. You are so ready." He started to laugh but quickly stopped and cleared his throat. "See you tomorrow. Call me when you get here." Before I had a chance to say another word, he disconnected the call.
I emailed the temp agency to let them know that I was needed elsewhere, but I still had a hard time sleeping that night. I hated letting people down. It bugged me to no end to walk out on a retail job at the mall a while back, even though my boss gave me no choice. This seemed worse since they'd been nice to me from the moment I arrived. Besides, I was always a two-weeks-notice kind of employee.
As soon as the clock showed 5:00, I got up, fixed a cup of coffee, and sat down at my computer to read email. I didn't expect to hear from the temp agency, but apparently the representative I worked with couldn't sleep either. She let me know that there were several other people waiting for a job just like the one I'd been doing, so I was off the hook. I let out a sigh of relief.
By 7:00, I'd showered, had a bowl of cereal, and packed my car. All I had to do was say goodbye to Mom and Dad before I left. I didn't want to go over there too early, but they were generally up by now, so I walked across the driveway, walked through the dewy backyard, and slipped into the kitchen through the backdoor.
Mom was fully dressed, holding a mug to her lips, watching for me. Her eyes crinkled, letting me know she was smiling behind the mug.
"I wanted to stop by before I left."
"I'm glad you did." Mom put her mug down and went to the counter beside the refrigerator. She picked up a small cooler and handed it to me. "I fixed you a couple of sandwiches and some potato salad."
"You didn't have to do that." I took it from her. "But I'm glad you did."
"Where are you staying?"
I shrugged. "The best hotel I can find for the best price."
"I have some Marriott points," she said. "You can use them."
"I can't—"
She held up her hand. "I insist. Let me get my rewards card, and I'll call them for you."
Dad came into the kitchen as she walked out. "Still going to Atlanta?"
I nodded.
"How long do you think you'll be there?"
"I have no idea, but not long, I hope."
"You do realize this is getting to be a bit ridiculous, don't you?" He paused as he poured a mug of coffee and then turned back around to face me. "Instead of getting out of law enforcement, you're still deeply entrenched in it …" He lifted an eyebrow to drive his point home. "Only now you're doing it for free."
"I know, dad, but—"
"Don't do that to her," Mom said as she came back into the kitchen. "Remember our little talk last night?"
Dad pursed his lips but didn't say a word. He didn't even make that grunting sound, showing he wasn't happy.
"What if I promise to make a decision about being in or out of law enforcement after this is over?"
"No, Summer." Dad down half his cup of coffee and put the mug on the counter. "We can't hold you to something that important. It would be wrong for us to force your hand based on a promise you made just to please us. Go do whatever you have to do and know we're behind you all the way."
I was so proud of my parents I felt the urge to cry. But considering the fact that I was going to help solve a serious crime, I didn't think it would be appropriate. Instead, I squared my shoulders, lifted my head, and grinned at my parents who now stood shoulder to shoulder.
"Thanks. I really need to get going. I'd like to be there before lunch if possible, and you know how Atlanta traffic can be."
Mom held out a slip of paper. "I called and made reservations for three nights. If you need longer, let me know."
"Three nights?" I glanced at the paper and saw the address. "This is in a nice area that I bet is super expensive."
"Points," Mom reminded me. "It's not costing a dime." She made a shooing gesture. "Just make sure you take advantage of their free hot breakfast."
Five minutes later, I was in my car, heading toward Atlanta. The trip wasn't terribly long, but I stopped off at Cracker Barrel to pick up an audio book to keep myself from thinking too much about the murder. I didn't want to arrive with preconceptions, and the way my mind worked, I'd have it solved in my head before talking to the first person. And I'd probably be wrong.
I'd barely gotten on the Interstate when my phone rang. I turned on the Bluetooth in my car and answered. It was Vince.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"I'm on my way."
"Come straight to the police station when you get here. There are a few developments you need to know about."
"Like what?"
"There are several things. The rope around his neck was definitely the murder weapon."
"That's good to know." I remembered that the gun found in the garden in the last case when I was there was not the one that killed the woman. "Anything else?"
"We've interviewed all of the daycare workers, and everything we've heard points to one person."
"Oh yeah?" I wondered if they'd have the case solved before I even got there. Then I'd have a nice evening at the Marriott before turning around and heading back home. "Is Darla still the prime suspect?"
Chapter 3
"Yes." He paused. "I know you became friends with her while you were here, but she's still the one who makes the most sense."
"I still think you're wrong," I said as I tried to imagine her planning a murder that involved a noose. "I don't believe she'd kill anyone."
"Unless she was pushed to the edge."
"Have you gotten to know her?" I remembered her frustration, but she never acted on it.
"I've spoken to her, yes, and she's still acting shocked we'd even think she would do such a thing."
"Quite frankly, I am too." Very little surprised me, but this didn't seem right. "Do you have her in custody?"
"We haven't arrested her yet, but the team is working on gathering everything we need to make this a cut-and-dry case."
"Vince, please don't arrest her until I at least have a chance to talk to her. If you do, you know her attorney will prevent her from talking."
"We can't let her leave town, and if she's truly the one who did it, she's a flight risk. You know that."
I did know it, but I still couldn't imagine Darla strangling Mr. Van Houghton. Besides, that wasn't something a person did in the heat of the moment. Trying a noose required skill and premeditation. "Can you at least wait until I get there?"
"All depends on what happens over the next few hours." He paused. "So don't waste any time."
I was glad Mom had packed some food, or I would have needed to stop for lunch on my way. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
After I hung up, I dug deep into my memory of the interaction I'd had with Darla. She'd been sarcastic, but that was as far as she'd gone with her frustration, and it really wasn't all that bad. Then I thought about all the other daycare workers and wondered if any of them could have murdered Mr. Van Houghton. From what I remembered, they were all dedicated to their jobs, and they gave very little thought to the man in the back office … at least that's how it appeared to me.
I opened the cooler sitting next to me and pulled out a sandwich that I nibbled while driving. When I finished that, I figured out a way to eat the potato salad by placing the container in my lap. A little bit spilled on my shirt, but that didn't bother me. I could do a quick change at a gas station before arriving at my destination.
By the time I pulled into the police station parking lot, I'd finished all the food and changed into a clean shirt. Vince was standing by the door, clearly waiting for someone, probably me.
"You didn't waste any time, did you?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I told you I'd be here as soon as I could. What's the latest?"
"Come on back." As we walked, I saw the stares from the other officers. "Is something going on here that I need to know about?"
"Why do you ask?" he said as we approached his desk that afforded absolutely no privacy.
As discreetly as I could, I gestured around and whispered, "Why the stares?"
He grinned. "They're thinking you might be one of us soon, and they're sizing you up. I don't think they're disappointed."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, trying hard not to appear flattered. "I hope you set them straight."
"Why would I do that?" He tilted his head forward. "I wouldn't want to take away their hope."
"Yeah, right." I sat down. "Now tell me what's going on with the Van Houghton case."
He instantly went into briefing mode, but I knew he wasn't giving me every detail. Some things were reserved for people who were actually paid to be detectives. I was still a civilian, leaving me to have to guess and fill in between the lines. Most people would find this off-putting, but I actually enjoyed the challenge.
Summer Walsh Mystery Collection (Boxed Set) (Omnibus): Murder Under the Mistletoe, Gun in the Garden, and Offed at the office (Summer Walsh Mysteries) Page 17
