1 Catered to Death

by Marlo Hollinger

  Steve shook his head. “There are pluses to not being wealthy. I wonder how long it will take the police to figure out who killed Frank Ubermann. Our police force doesn’t have a lot of experience with murder but they should be able to nail whoever did it fairly quickly. They got here right after it happened and that has to help. The murderer couldn’t have gotten too far away in that small amount of time.”

  I shuddered. “Good Lord, a murderer, right here in Kemper. I didn’t think things like that happened in towns like this one.”

  “Murder can happen anywhere,” Steve said grimly. “I’m just thankful that you weren’t more involved, but it still makes me sick that you were here when it happened.”

  “I feel plenty involved as it is. Here’s the receptionist’s office,” I said when we reached the front of the school.

  Steve left the cart in the hallway and then we entered a tiny, windowless room that seemed even smaller due to a long counter that divided the front of the office from the rear and the drab brown paint on the walls. A woman was sitting slumped over her desk surrounded by wads of used Kleenex and stacks of papers. A brass nameplate on the desk read RUTH SPARROW.

  The woman looked up when we came in and I could see that her brown eyes were red-rimmed and teary. “May I help you?” she asked in a strained voice as she dabbed at her nose.

  “I’m DeeDee Pearson and this is my husband, Steve,” I said. “I catered the luncheon today. I meant to come down and introduce myself to you earlier but I didn’t get a chance what with setting up and everything.”

  “How did you get in the building when you got here?” Ruth asked suspiciously, straightening up and looking at me like I was an escapee from the women’s prison located about one hundred miles away. “All the doors should have been locked except for the front door and then I would have seen you.”

  “I met one of the teachers—Jack Mulholland—in the parking lot and he let me in the back door. I hope that was all right.”

  “Oh, sure. That’s fine.” Ruth slumped down in her desk again. “I was just thinking that if one of the outside doors was unlocked that might have been how the murderer got in and killed Frank.” Tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She wiped them off and looked at us apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be such a mess but this whole thing still seems unreal to me. It’s a wide awake nightmare.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said sympathetically. “It’s all so dreadful. I can’t believe anything that’s happened this afternoon. It is a nightmare for everyone here. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Ruth’s forehead wrinkled. “Loss?”

  “Your boss being murdered,” I elaborated.

  “Well, thank you. And don’t worry about not coming down here earlier. You obviously didn’t know that you were supposed to check in with me. I’m sorry I didn’t come and introduce myself to you but Claudine is very strict about that. She wants someone in this office at all times to answer the phone and that someone is me. She doesn’t think it gives a good impression of the school if an answering machine picks up instead of a human being.”

  I saw Steve glance around the tiny room that looked more like a telephone booth than an office. “You never get a break?” he asked. That didn’t sound legal.

  “Well, I’m allowed to leave for lunch if it’s OK with Claudine.”

  “What about bathroom breaks?” I questioned.

  Ruth shrugged. “I try to limit my fluid intake as much as possible.”

  I’d never be able to handle Ruth’s job since I have a bladder the size of a walnut. I handed her the plastic-covered plate. “I wanted to bring you something from Junebug’s luncheon. I’m—I’m sorry you couldn’t make it this afternoon. It was a lovely party,” I added, hoping that God wouldn’t strike me dead for telling such a huge lie in a building that used to house a Catholic school.

  Ruth looked confused. “Thank you for the food but there’s no reason for you to be sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m never invited to staff luncheons or any kind of staff function.”

  “Aren’t you on the staff?” Steve asked.

  “Yes, but I’m an hourly employee,” Ruth explained. “Almost everyone else is salaried.”

  I shot Steve a glance that said See? “What difference does that make?” I asked. “You all work for the same school, don’t you?”

  The expression in Ruth’s brown eyes became bitter. “What ‘difference’ does that make? Only all the difference in the world. The only other hourly employees are the custodian and the bus driver and, believe me, the odds of either of them being invited to any kind of event with the salaried staff is about as likely to happen as George Clooney dropping in this afternoon to take me out for coffee.”

  It didn’t take much to remember the shocked expressions on the other staff members faces when I had suggested that I ask Ruth in to join them for a drink of Junebug’s Wild Turkey. If Claudine and Frank and the rest of the teachers had been that surprised by the notion of including the school’s receptionist in one of their functions, I could only imagine their attitude toward the bus driver and the janitor. “That’s too bad,” I said.

  Ruth dabbed her nose again. “It doesn’t matter. Here I am sounding all silly over something as trivial as who gets invited to lunch when Frank’s been killed.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s gone. It’s all so awful. I don’t know what we’re going to do without him. I mean, he could be a real pain in the neck to work for, a real micro-manager, if you know what I mean. Always checking my time sheet and making sure I didn’t add an extra five minutes and he was forever looking behind the file cabinets to make sure I dusted back there. Of course, I’d never wish any ill on him. I’d never wish any ill on anyone.”

  I believed her. Ruth Sparrow reminded me of the school secretary at the high school that I attended, a sweet and quiet woman who saw at least a little bit of good in everyone, even students who returned from their lunch break an hour late and reeking of pot or booze. “I’m sure that it will take a while for this to sink in for everyone,” I said.

  “If it ever does,” Ruth replied. “Frank was one in a million.”

  “You should eat something. I brought you seafood casserole with salad and a croissant with herb butter and a brownie.”

  “It sounds delicious,” Ruth said sadly, “but I’m not sure I can eat a bite. I’m so upset and whenever I get upset my digestive system flies out the window.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll be hungry later. I’ll stop by for the plate and silverware some other time when things aren’t quite so upside down.”

  “Thank you.” More tears rolled down Ruth’s cheeks. “Who could have done such a horrible thing?” she asked in a voice that was almost a whisper. “And right under all of our noses. That’s the scariest part of this whole thing. Frank was murdered right under our noses and no one heard a thing. It makes me shiver from the inside out. It could have been any one of us who’d been shot.”

  “Who do you think could have done it?” Steve asked.

  Ruth shook her head. “I don’t have a clue. I know he wasn’t too popular with some of the staff but I simply can’t imagine any of them murdering him.”

  “Maybe it was an outsider,” I suggested. “Perhaps a student?”

  “I don’t know. Eden Academy students are of a very high caliber. I only wish the security cameras had been working today. They went on the blink yesterday afternoon. Frank said he called to have a repairman sent out but as far as I know they still aren’t working. Now I have to wonder who will take Frank’s place. He might have been difficult sometimes but if Claudine takes his job I don’t know if I can stand to work for her––” Ruth caught herself and stopped talking. “Thank you again for the food. That was extremely kind and thoughtful of you. You have no idea of how much I appreciate it.”

  “Really, it’s nothing,” I told her. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a tidal wave of exhaustion. “I hope you like it.”
/>   “Oh, I’m sure I wil––”

  “What the hell is going on here?” An enormous woman barged into the office and planted large, square hands on the counter that separated Ruth’s desk from visitors. “What are the police doing here?”

  “Oh, Maxi.” Ruth got to her feet and walked to the counter. Steve and I exchanged glances and Steve gestured toward the doorway with his head. I carefully studied the amount of space between Maxi and the door and saw that we were going to be stuck for awhile; Maxi took up most of the room in the small office and if we wanted to leave, we’d have to climb over her to do so. “There’s been a terrible accident,” Ruth started.

  “What? Did someone fall down the steps or something? I’ve told that nogoodnick janitor not to wax the stairs but does anyone around this dump ever listen to me? Of course not! That idiot waxes the stairs and never touches the hallways. It makes absolutely no sense!” Maxi had a deep, booming voice that made her sound like she was using a loudspeaker, a sensory sensation that was increased in Ruth’s tiny office.

  “No, it wasn’t anything like that. It was Frank––”

  Maxi narrowed already small eyes and stared at Ruth from behind pink tinted glasses. “What about Frank?”

  “He’s…dead. He died this afternoon.”

  Steve and I hugged the wall behind us as we watched the expression on Maxi’s face change from anger to horror. “What are you talking about? I just saw Frank this morning. We went over to the garage to look at the bus and he was perfectly fine. What happened to him? Was it his heart? Did he have a heart condition that I didn’t know about?”

  “No, well, sort of.” Ruth shook her hands helplessly in the air. “Oh, I’m so terrible at this! I don’t know how to break the news to anyone. It’s so hard to say…”

  Steve stepped forward and took over. “Frank Ubermann was murdered. I’m sorry to have to tell you that.”

  Maxi whirled her head and pinned him to the wall with her glare. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Steve Pearson and this is my wife DeeDee.”

  Ruth spoke up. “Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Maxi, DeeDee catered the lunch the teachers had for Junebug today. DeeDee, Steve, Maxi is our bus driver. She’s been getting kids safely to Eden Academy for over two years now.”

  “Enough with the PR crap, Ruth,” Maxi barked. “I don’t give a rat’s patooty if she catered lunch for the Pope today! Now tell me how Frank was murdered. Did Jack finally shoot him? He’s been saying that he was going to for years now. Or was it another member of the Frank Ubermann Fan Club?”

  “Maxi,” Ruth murmured, “I hardly think this is the appropriate time to talk like that. Frank isn’t even cold.”

  Maxi rolled her eyes and then addressed us in a voice that was thick with disdain. “Ruth here is a much nicer person than I am, as you can both probably already see. I don’t believe in calling a spade anything but a spade and Frank Ubermann was a first class louse.”

  “You don’t sound too surprised that he was murdered,” Steve observed.

  “Surprised?” Maxi laughed shortly. “I’m just surprised that it’s taken this long for it to happen. The man has a list of enemies that’s longer than my arm. To know him was to hate him.”

  “Maxi, you’re going too far.”

  Maxi turned back to Ruth. “No, Ruth, I’m not and we both know it. So was it Jack?”

  “We don’t know who it was.”

  “Was he shot?”

  “Yes, but not with a gun. Someone shot him with a bow and arrow.”

  Maxi laughed again. “Now I’ve heard everything.” She shook her head. “Well, well, well, I’d call that poetic justice. The Nature Boy was hoisted by his own petard. He always said he wanted to die when he was out in the wilderness. I suppose this is a close second.”

  “Oh, Maxi,” Ruth said sorrowfully.

  “Don’t hand me that ‘oh, Maxi’ crap. I’m sorry he had to go that way but I can’t say I’m sorry that he’s gone. He was a terrible boss.” Looking over Ruth’s shoulder, she spied the plate of food DeeDee had set on Ruth’s desk. “There’s a perfect example of Frank’s pitiful leadership. They had a lunch today and they didn’t invite me. They never invite me.”

  “I wasn’t invited either,” Ruth pointed out. “You know how it is, Maxi.”

  “Yeah, I know how it is and it sucks.” Maxi began to leave the office. “I can’t believe it! That bastard chewed me out but good today and I was just coming back to give him some tit for tat and he had the nerve to die on me. Brother!”

  We watched as Maxi marched out of the school’s front door letting the heavy metal door slam soundly shut behind her. Ruth sighed. “She doesn’t mean that,” she told us. “Really, she’s not nearly as hard as she sounds. I’m sure she’s just as shocked by Frank’s death as anyone else but someone like Maxi just isn’t going to let it show.”

  “I’m sure she is,” I said. “We should go.” Nudging Steve, I led the way out of the receptionist’s office, leaving Ruth Sparrow alone. We walked slowly down the hallway, not talking to each other until we had safely reached the door. I don’t know why but I had the distinct impression that the walls at Eden Academy had ears. “Let’s put all this stuff in my car and then I’ll walk you to yours,” Steve said once we were outside. “I don’t want to let you out of my sight after what just happened.

  I followed Steve to his car, feeling like I weighed about a thousand pounds. “One minute Frank was eating my seafood casserole and the next minute he was dead. Life is way too unpredictable. Here one second and gone the next. I hate it.”

  Steve reached for my hand and held it tightly. “Try not to think about it right now,” he suggested.

  “What else can I possibly think about?”

  “Anything else. Your next catering job. Jane’s birthday present. Tyler’s fruitless job hunt.” Steve efficiently stowed everything I’d brought with me in the back of his car. “Are you all right to drive?”

  “I’m fine but let’s get home as soon as we can. I’m feeling kind of shaky.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Ruth has a point,” Steve said to me an hour later. We were sitting in our usual spots in the family room, Steve in his red and blue plaid recliner that is becoming more and more of an eyesore with each passing year and me in my cream colored one that is truly the most comfortable spot on the planet. We tend to end each day in the family room with either cups of herbal tea or a glass of wine for me and a scotch and soda for Steve. This was definitely an occasion that called for a cocktail of the alcoholic variety so I was holding an extra large glass of chardonnay. “Do you mind if we talk about it or will it upset you?”

  I shook my head. “We have to talk about it—I have the feeling I’m not going to be able to talk about anything else for a long time. Now what do you mean that Ruth has a point?”

  Steve took a sip of scotch before replying, the look on his face thoughtful. “Ruth was right on the money when she said that Frank Ubermann was murdered under everyone’s nose and no one even realized it—except for whoever did it. It takes a lot of nerve to murder someone with so many potential witnesses around. Anyone could have seen the murder happen. Anyone could have walked in on it. That tells me that whoever killed Frank didn’t care if he or she got caught.”

  “A crime of passion?” I suggested.

  Steve nodded. “But on the other hand, it does seem premeditated. The killer had to know where to find Frank and it had to be someone who worked there if all the outside doors except for the front one were locked.”

  “He told everyone that he was heading downstairs,” I said. “Of course, the school’s so small that it wouldn’t be hard to find him even if he hadn’t announced his plans.”

  “True,” Steve said thoughtfully. “But it still seems like an inside job to me.”

  “It does to me too,” I agreed. “So what you’re saying is that the odds are pretty good that I fed a murderer at lunch today.”

  “It
looks that way, hon.”

  I took a long sip of wine and was glad that Steve had opened a fresh bottle for me. I had the feeling that I just might finish it off before the night was over. I was still feeling shuddery and more than a little creeped out by what had happened that day. It was bad enough to be starting a new career at my age but to have someone murdered at my very first catering gig was the absolute pits. I mean, naturally, I felt terrible for Frank Ubermann and his family but in my heart of hearts I also felt a little terrible for me too. How was I ever going to get a reference after this fiasco?

  I pushed my mind away from such selfish thoughts. Someone had died. This wasn’t the time to think about the ramifications on my tiny, fledgling career.

  “I know you just met all of the teachers today but did you have a chance to form any kind of opinions about them?” Steve asked, interrupting my brooding. “Maybe you noticed something that could be a tip off to the police. You’re always good at noticing details, honey.”

  “Well,” I said as I snuggled down in my recliner, both my favorite purple plaid mohair throw and the wine making me feel warm, “I was able to form a lot of opinions, actually.”

  “Such as?”

  I tried to explain my impressions of the Eden Academy teachers. “Everyone one of them had some kind of chip on his or her shoulder except for the student teacher. They seemed angry when they got to the lunch and pretty annoyed with each other in a general kind of way. I had the feeling that if there wasn’t a free lunch involved, most of them wouldn’t have been there. One of the teachers came right out and said to me we don’t like each other and he wasn’t joking.”

  “That’s too bad,” Steve said. “You don’t have to love the people you work with but you should at least try to get along and act like grown ups.”

  “Makes the sociology department at Metro State College seem a little more pleasant, doesn’t it?”