by Debby Mayne
"Not strong enough to ignore him," I replied. "I still think he needs to be watched."
"Oh, trust me, now that we know where he is, we're watching him like hawks." He gave me a warm smile. "I bet you're exhausted. Why don't you head home now?"
"I will."
A few seconds after we turned and headed for our respected cars, I heard him call my name. "Summer, there's something I think I need to tell you."
"What's that?"
He made a face and walked back toward me. "I hesitate to do this because I know by looking at you that you need some rest … and this is something that could possibly keep you up all night."
"Out with it, Vince. I'm not fragile, you know."
"Yes, I know." He sucked in a breath, blew it out, and blurted, "The gun in the garden wasn't the one that killed Essie McClure."
"But she did die of a gunshot wound, right?"
"Yes. It was a much bigger, more powerful gun than the one we saw."
"Oh." That thought hadn't even dawned on me, but it should have. I'd seen stranger things in my career. "When did you find out?"
"If I tell you, you'll only get mad."
I leveled him with the sternest look I could manage. "Tell me."
"Yesterday."
I let out an exasperated breath and rolled my eyes before glaring at him. "It doesn't matter, but it does cast a different light on things, doesn't it?"
He nodded. "Forensics has been working diligently, around the clock."
I understood that. If they didn't, the case would get cold, and it was much more difficult to solve a case after a lot of time had lapsed.
"Be careful, Summer."
"I'm always careful. Thanks for telling me about the gun."
"Sure."
As I drove to my apartment, I thought about the gun and wondered why it was lying in the flowerbed. We'd been pretty sure it belonged to Ms. McClure, but now I wondered. Vince had kept one piece of information from me, so I wondered if there was something else he wasn't telling.
I pulled around to the back of the Tiddly Winks Day Care Center, put my car in park, glanced up before I turned off my headlights, and saw that my door to my apartment stood open a couple of inches. Other people might not have worried about that kind of thing because some doors were bad about not clicking shut. But I distinctly remember checking it more than once. I was OCD about closed doors and windows.
The thought of calling Vince crossed my mind, but I didn't feel like staying up all night—something that would probably happen if the police got involved now. Instead, I reached into my glove compartment and pulled out a can of pepper spray that I kept for times like this. I knew I was taking a huge risk, but based on my prior experiences, whoever had gone into my apartment was long gone. I'd be careful not to touch anything I didn't have to so the police could dust for prints later, like tomorrow.
I got out of my car and crept up the sidewalk, looking around with every step. When I got to the door, I used my foot to open it, and then I cleared my throat. "Anyone here? If you are, I'm armed and ready to fire." Pepper spray could do some serious damage from someone who knew how to use it.
There wasn't a single peep, which gave me a little peace of mind. I looked around the door and saw that the glass beside it had been broken. All anyone had to do was reach in and turn the deadbolt. A couple of cabinet doors had been opened, and the dresser drawer was open. Other than that, I didn't see anything terribly alarming. It made me wonder what the person had been looking for and whether or not it was connected to the murder case.
Before getting ready for bed, I rigged something that would let me know if anyone tried to turn the deadbolt. It would be difficult to get a good night's sleep, but at least my body would get some rest in a reclining position.
Once the sun made its appearance, I got up, locked myself in the bathroom, took a shower, and got ready for the day. Then I called Vince.
As soon as he answered, I could tell I woke him up. "What do you want, Summer?"
"Someone broke into my apartment."
"What? When?" Now he sounded awake.
"I'm not sure when. The door was open when I got back last night."
"Why didn't you call me then?"
"I was tired. But I didn't touch anything I didn't have to, so if there are fingerprints, you should still be able to get something."
"I'll call forensics right now, and I'll meet them there. Don't go anywhere."
"I have to go to work, but at least it's right next door. If you need me, that's where I'll be."
After that, I wolfed down a bowl of cold cereal and headed for the day care center, where I opened the door for the kids whose parents dropped them off for breakfast. The teachers told me that they took turns getting there early. This morning, it was Darla.
"You look like you saw a ghost," she said as she walked past me with arms full of boxes. "I brought some stuff from home to do crafts." She dropped the boxes on one of the tables. "Have you made the coffee yet?"
"I just got here."
"I'll make it then. And while I'm at it, why don't I show you how to get breakfast started for the kids?"
As she worked in the tiny kitchen, she explained how they tried to feed the children healthy breakfasts and not sugary cereals that made them hyper. I appreciated how much she cared about the little ones and thought that if I ever had children and needed day care, I'd want her to be their teacher.
Finally, she turned around, brushed her hands together, and smiled at me. "So are you going to tell me what's going on to get you so worked up, or do I have to guess?"
Man, she was good. I figured I might as well tell her, since the police would probably stop by sometime during the course of the day. After I explained what had happened, she shook her head.
"You need to be extra careful. Have you mentioned this to Mr. Van Houghton?"
I shook my head. "I guess I need to let him know."
"Maybe not. Why don't you wait until he asks?"
"Really?"
Darla nodded. "He pretty much doesn't care what goes on here as long as it doesn't hurt the bottom line. When I applied for your position, he said he needed me with the kids and that he'd hired someone who would give parents the confidence they needed." She paused and frowned. "We've lost quite a few kids because he couldn't get along with their parents. All the teachers got together and told him he needed to stay in the back when it was time for the children to be picked up."
"Oh."
"So you get the high paying job, and I get the responsibility." She sighed. "Such is the life of a person who loves children."
"I like children," I said in my defense.
"Sure you do." She pointed to a shelf above my head. "Would you mind getting a stack of cups for the kids' orange juice?"
We worked in silence, getting breakfast ready for the half dozen children who would get there early. Once they started filing in, I stood up at the front waiting for more teachers. One thing I'd discovered was that the rest of the teachers appreciated knowing I was there for them, even though they still weren't sure about me yet.
Once all the teachers were there and the school day had begun, I went back to my office to do some administrative work. When I heard the knock on the door, I expected it to be Darla, but it wasn't. It was Julie, one of the younger assistant teachers, with a panicked look on her face.
"There are a bunch of police officers swarming around the place," she said, her voice tight and nervous. "They want to talk to you."
I stood up and smiled, hoping to put her at ease. "Okay, do you want me to come up there or have them come back here?"
"I don't want the kids to get upset, so I better send them back here."
"That's fine," I said. "And don't worry. I'm not sure if anyone ever told you this, but I used to be a police officer and detective."
She nodded. "Yes, I knew that. I'm sorry, Ms. Walsh, but we don't like chaos around here. The kids get all worked up, and it's hard to get them to calm back
down."
"I'll try to keep the officers in the back, then." I sighed. "There's no sense in getting anyone all worked up."
"The parents won't like this when they hear about it," she mumbled as we walked toward the front. "Not one single bit."
"There's no point in telling the parents about it, is there?"
She looked at me as though I'd sprouted a new head. "Are you kidding? That's the first thing the kids will tell them when they walk in the door."
"I'm sure everything will be just fine." I could tell there was no reassuring her. "Please don't make any more of this than necessary."
As soon as we got to the front, one of the officers I'd never seen before stepped forward. "Ms. Walsh?"
I nodded and extended my hand. "I'm Summer Walsh."
"We got some fingerprints of the person who broke into your apartment, and we know who it is." His booming voice captured the attention of everyone in the front classrooms.
"C'mon back," I said. "Let's talk where we don't have so many listening ears."
"Too late for that," Julie said. "I won't be surprised if we lose half our kids to Playtime Day Care down the street."
I cast a warning look at the officer, who realized what he'd done. "Sorry," he whispered. "I wasn't thinking."
Once we got to my office, I closed the door and turned around to face the officer. "Now tell me who broke into my apartment."
Chapter 9
"Agnes Bailey."
"Are you kidding me?" I totally didn't see this one coming. "The garden club lady?"
"Yep. We were surprised too."
I'd been thinking maybe Eddie or maybe even someone who wasn't involved in the murder case. "Did she say what she was doing in my apartment … what she was looking for?"
He shook his head. "The woman isn't talking yet."
"Where is Vince? Does he know about this?"
"He's with Ms. Bailey right now. In fact, he told me to come and get you."
At least Tiddly Winks Day Care could run without a director. Mr. Van Houghton hadn't done much more than make bank deposits and write payroll checks. I suspected that's how it had been for a long time before I arrived, and I suspected it wouldn't change long after I was gone.
"Let me get my things," I said. "And I need to let the teachers know where I'll be."
"I'll wait out front," he said.
When I walked back out to the classrooms, all heads turned. I could see the curiosity on everyone's faces, and I certainly understood it. However, I couldn't talk much because no one knew I was involved in the murder case. Telling them would be too distracting and might even upset the kids and their parents.
Darla nodded. "I thought you might have to leave when the cops arrived. Everything is under control here."
I started for the door but paused and turned around to face her. She already had the kids working on a project, so she could talk for a minute. "Darla, you really should be the director here."
She gave me a sad smile. "I know. I just hope Mr. Van Houghton eventually figures it out."
"I'm sure he will." I placed my hand on her shoulder. "I'll make sure he does."
I went to my office and got my handbag and jacket before joining the officer waiting in the patrol car. On the way to the station, I asked him some questions about the case, but he didn't give me any direct answers. That was understandable, but I'd hoped I might know more by the time I spoke to Ms. Bailey.
We walked into the station, and he led me to the room where Vince, Agnes Bailey, and another officer sat at a large veneer-covered table. Vince glanced up at me and turned back to Agnes. "Do you know this woman?" he asked her.
She narrowed her gaze and looked down but didn't say anything. Something was completely different about her from last time we'd spoken.
After a few minutes of silence, Vince turned to me. "Can we talk privately?"
I nodded.
He stood, and I followed him out of the room, leaving Agnes with the other officer who appeared extremely uncomfortable. He must have been new.
"I'm only able to tell you this because it's public record, but Agnes Bailey has an arrest record."
"When did you find out?" I asked. "After you got the fingerprints from my apartment?"
"No," he said with a tentative tone. "When we gave her a ticket for rear-ending you."
"And you didn't tell me until now." I held his gaze.
He clearly felt bad about it. "Yeah."
"What else did she do?"
"Two cases of breaking and entering and one of threatening a police officer."
"Okay." I folded my arms. "So why did you decide that I needed to know about this now?"
"I was hoping …" He shifted his weight as he looked at me. "Can you try to get some information from her?"
Once again, my heart started pumping harder. "Getting information is one of the things I do best."
"I know." He paused. "Oh, I need to let you know something else. We found some letters in one of the boxes forensics found at Ms. McClure's house."
"Letters?"
"Yeah, from Agnes Bailey. And we have Ms. McClure's computer where she saved quite a bit of information about her attempts to get into the garden club."
"Do you think Agnes might have murdered Essie?" I asked. I had my own thoughts, but I wanted to hear Vince's.
"It doesn't look good for Agnes at the moment, but you know as well as I do that this doesn't necessarily mean she killed the woman."
"I'll talk to her and see if I can get her to say something." I gestured toward the conference room. "Let's go do this now."
When we got back to the room, I smiled at Agnes. "Did you ever have your car looked at after the fender bender?"
Her forehead wrinkled, but she didn't say anything. I held her gaze and did my best to keep a friendly expression on my face.
"I bet it's just a matter of popping the metal back out. Probably not all that expensive of a repair."
Agnes looked down at the table before looking around at everyone else in the room. She opened her mouth but quickly closed it again.
I turned to Vince. "Would y'all mind if I had a little time alone with Ms. Bailey?"
He gave me a dubious glance but finally nodded. "Okay, but just a few minutes. We still have a lot of questions for her."
Once Vince and the other officer left, I propped my elbow on the table and leaned toward Agnes. "You might as well say something because if you don't, you increase suspicion."
"My attorney isn't here, and I just happen to know that I don't have to say a word until he arrives." She gave me a smirk.
"Can you tell me why you broke into my apartment?"
A look of confusion crossed her face. "Someone broke into your apartment?" She looked sincere.
"Ms. Bailey, you broke into my apartment. Do you not remember?"
The confusion faded, and then she shrugged. "No comment. Like I already told you, my attorney isn't here, and I don't have to say a word until he gets here."
"So you have experience with this sort of thing?" I wasn't sure if she was aware that I knew about her prior arrest, or for that matter if she remembered what happened yesterday.
She shrugged, a sign that her shield was breaking. "Maybe."
"Look, Agnes, you broke into my apartment, and you know that a woman has been murdered. If you continue acting like this, you'll be very high on the suspect list."
Fear flashed in her eyes. "I didn't kill her." She sniffled. "And that was the reason I broke into your apartment. I thought you might have done it, so I went looking for some evidence to hand over to the police."
"You broke into my apartment to find evidence of crime?" Wow. She was even more confused than I thought.
"Don't worry. I didn't find anything." She paused, and her chin quivered. "I promise you I didn't murder her."
"But you wanted to, right?" I asked. I didn't know the interrogation policy in Atlanta, but since I wasn't working in an official capacity, I was able to ask her a
nything I wanted to.
"No." She scowled. "I never wanted to kill anyone."
"So it was an accident?"
"No … I mean I don't know if it was an accident. I wasn't there."
"If you weren't there, who was?"
She shot me a baffled look. "How would I know?"
"When was the last time you spoke to Ms. McClure?"
She looked away and blinked a few times before turning back to me. "A few days before she was murdered."
"Did you ever have any other communication with her, like on the phone or with letters?"
"Maybe." She pursed her lips, making me think I'd lost her. But then she sighed and blurted, "Look, lady, I don't think it's any big secret that I didn't like the woman. She annoyed me to pieces, always trying to get into the garden club just so she could hobnob with the upper crust. But she just didn't have what it took."
"I'm not a gardener, but her flowers looked pretty to me. Why wouldn't you let her in?"
"Being in the garden club is about a lot more than gardening. We expect our members to … well, they have to live up to certain standards." Agnes folded her arms and lifted her chin. "She didn't even come close."
"Did anyone else in the garden club feel this way?"
"At first, we had a couple other people who agreed with me, but they all caved in and said that if she wanted it that badly, maybe we should give her a chance. I was the only one committed to keeping our standards high."
I saw a look of determination on her face and realized how much the garden club meant to her. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
Her chin quivered, the first sign that she might break down. She slowly shook her head. "It's no secret that I didn't like Essie, but like I keep trying to tell you, I didn't kill her."
Before I had a chance to ask another question, Vince and a couple of uniformed officers joined us. "Summer, I need to talk to you now." He turned to Agnes. "You can go with these officers."
After the officers left with Agnes, I looked at Vince and shook my head. "She talked a little."
"Did she confess to the killing?"
"Stop playing games, Vince." I pointed to the two-way mirror on the wall behind me. "You know she didn't."
"Do you think she did it?" he asked.
