by Kristi Rose
Then I leaned against LC and questioned my feelings of dissatisfaction while attempting to listen to my gut.
In response, I got the answer.
Josh’s house. That’s where I needed to go.
I parked LC two blocks from Josh’s house and jogged up a back street and then over, cutting through a neighbor’s yard.
Josh lived in an older neighborhood where the houses were more spaced out and many of the homes smaller, pre-war built. I approached from the back, there were no lights on, but when I got within fifteen feet, I made out Leo sitting on the back stoop.
I stopped short by a tree and waited to see if he noticed me.
“You can come out,” he said.
I stepped from the shadows. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you think one breaking and entering a night is sufficient?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I stuck a hand on my hip.
“You have a cobweb with the spider still attached on your shoulder.”
I screamed, whipped off the hoodie, and tossed it to the ground.
Guilty as charged. I gave him an apologetic smile.
He held up a hand. “I assumed you’d hit both places and I figured I’d let you in here. I’m collecting stuff from Josh’s house for evidence. You might have enough time to scope out the place before I have to go in.” He leaned back, pushing a hand against Josh’s back door. It swung open.
I rushed to the door but stopped at Leo’s feet. “How did you know I went to the school?”
Leo smiled. “Sweetness, know this. When it comes to being a cop, I’m like Jeopardy. And you? You’re like Wheel of Fortune.” He pointed to his chest. “Jeopardy.” Then pointed to me. “Wheel of Fortune.”
I gasped. “Wheel of Fortune can be hard. You have to have some sense to solve those puzzles.”
One brow shot up. “Do you?” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be back at the station in an hour.”
“Eep.” I dashed into the house.
A laptop was sitting on the kitchen table, and I plugged my device into it. While it did its work, I walked through and took panoramic pics of his place. I was sure there was something here I was missing because of my hurried state.
On a whim, I opened a hall closet. A variety of coats for all weather hung there, but the size was off, like the closet was too shallow to be a real closet.
Having married, not legally mind you, a man who kept a secret room over his place of employment, my mind instantly went to that idea. I pushed the coats aside and searched the panel for any irregularity. A small indention was at the top left corner of the wall. It was big enough to put fingers in, which I did, and I slid the panel into the wall, like a pocket door, revealing the true depth of the closet and a butt ton of Chromebooks. All of them with asset labels from the school. Oddly, a roll of new asset tags sat on top of the laptops. I zoomed in and took pics of the label roll.
“Hey, Alex Tribec,” I yell over my shoulder. “What do you make of this, Mr. Smart Guy?”
11
Friday
DB was coming out of the newspaper as I was heading in. The way he walked, his arms puffed out at the side, forced me to back up. He didn’t even bother with a pleasantry or courtesy. I stuck my tongue out at his back as he walked past me.
“Oh, Sam,” he said, as if I were an afterthought. He turned and stepped toward me. “I just came from seeing your father.”
“I figured since you’re coming from the newspaper that my father owns.” I leaned toward him and said in a conspiratorial tone, “What were you doing? Putting an ad in the personals? Looking for a girl? You know they have online apps now. It’s super easy. Even a chimp like you can do it. Just swipe left and right. But I hear swiping up to say you super like someone is super creepy.” I waved my thumb like I was swiping in both directions.
“Ha ha.” He stuck his chimp thumbs in the band of his uniform’s utility belt. “Actually, I popped in to give your father a press release about the murder of Principal Chapman. You’ll be interested in this tidbit. The medical examiner did a forensic autopsy on Josh. You know why? Because his death was suspicious. And she’s leaning toward homicide as his manner of death. Only waiting for a few more reports to come in. But I think it’s safe to say preliminary reports indicate Josh Chapman was murdered.“
Murdered. And I had witnessed the end game. I’d seen the “just desserts”.
I pressed my hand to my churning stomach.
DB chuckled before he continued, “This is the fun part. You’re our person of interest. I shared that with the newspaper. How you were there when it happened and how you and Josh were in an altercation. How Mrs. Rivers heard him tell you to get your hands off him.”
Cripes. My dad had to run an article informing the community and beyond that his daughter was the possible murderess of Wind River’s favorite principal. Leo had called it—I was screwed six ways to Sunday if I didn’t get this thing worked out. Once the story broke, I’d become persona non grata, especially with the Hunter Boots Moms, and digging into Josh’s life would become exponentially harder.
DB tweaked my nose and smiled. “What’s the matter, Sam? Cat got your tongue? No cute retort? Right now, you’re my number one suspect. You look pretty good, too. Who else wanted to kill Josh? He was Mr. Popular in this town. Except with you.”
“Why would I want to kill Josh? I just met him. I didn’t dislike him. Besides, I don’t have a history of killing people, or I would have taken you out in chemistry class for cheating off me.”
“Is that a threat?”
I scoffed.
DB continued. “You better mind your p’s and q’s, Samantha. I’m watching you.” He put two fingers to his eyes and pointed from them to mine. “I’m watching you.”
“Watch all you want because I’m innocent. And while you’re watching me, a real killer is getting away.”
DB blew a raspberry and looked skeptical. “They all say that.”
“I’m telling you, DB. He was dead before he fell over.”
“Is that a confession?”
Angry with his single-minded focus, I pointed my finger in his face, but before I could say anything, my mom shouted my name from across the street.
Both DB and I turned.
She was rushing toward us. To me she said, “Not another word.”
Upon reaching me, she took me by the upper arm and said to DB, “You will do a good job on this, DB, because the leaders of this community are watching to see how this unfolds. Be mindful you have a review coming up, and to screw this up and wrongly accuse someone would not help you any.”
Then, with her grip firm, she propelled me into the newspaper office. My dad and the paper’s right-hand-woman Stella, were waiting for us in the lobby. Probably watching from the window.
My mother let go of my arm and reprimanded me, “Do not talk to him. Ever. Without your lawyer. You know better.”
Frustration and irritation were the emotions I was working from. “I didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t have to worry about what I say.”
Mom shook her head. “Any person who’s considered a suspect has to worry about what they say. They can use anything against them. You’re lucky your father saw him talking to you and called me.”
“This is serious business.” Dad gave me a pointed look, which I interpreted to mean I’d better get busy and solve this crime.
“Did you know Josh was teaching at the community center in Vancouver? He was working with kids at an alternative juvie program.”
Dad’s brow arched.
Mom nodded. “Josh came with an impressive resume.”
“Okay, he had an impressive resume, but didn’t he also have a history of leaving on bad terms?” I asked Mom.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing that wasn’t easily explained. Situations where either side could easily be argued. More a situation of ‘he said, she said,’ which are hard to substantiate.”
Dad chime
d in, “He moved around a lot.”
Mom said, “And all his moves were for advancements. Logical.”
I looked at my dad. “Did Toby get back to you with anything?” Because even though Josh’s moves were easily explained, there might be something else ready to be discovered. I hadn’t found Josh as charming as everyone else. He’d put my spidey sense on alert. Not full pinging, but still. Josh wasn’t who he seemed. I mean, he had a closet full of Chromebooks. What was that about?
Dad said, “Toby’s been pulling things and sending them to me. Nothing major has shown up yet. Lots of invoices, though.” He gestured for us to follow him back to his office.
“Please tell me you aren’t doing your own investigation?” Mom asked.
Dad and I said nothing. She covered her eyes and groaned.
Once in Dad’s office, he took a paper off his desk. “Toby said to show you this.”
He handed me a printout of the image I’d seen. Attached was an email from [email protected], making the request to get away.
It read, The heat in WA State is not my type of heat. Let’s blow this state and go somewhere with the right heat. Time to enjoy the payout from the hard work.
Josh hadn’t replied to the email, but Toby found a second email to drgnbait that included a confirmation email showing the purchase of two one-way tickets to Fiji for a Mr. And Mrs. J and J Chapman.
A third email chain with Fiji in the body or subject was from Mrs. Rivers to June and included a screenshot of Josh’s calendar that showed the flight departure date for Mr. and Mrs. J and J Chapman to Fiji. In the email from Mrs. Rivers, she said to her daughter, “Fiji. A dream destination. Travel Weekly rated it a top ten honeymoon destination.”
Last was an email to Josh from the airline less than twenty-four hours later, stating that one ticket had been fully refunded.
Dad said, “And look at this.” He handed me more papers.
I scanned the sheet. “This is an invoice from June’s coffee shop. It’s for pastries and coffee to the sum of two thousand dollars.” I glanced between my parents. It took me a second to connect the dots. “What does a person get from a coffee shop for two thousand dollars?”
“It’s probably for a function June catered,” Mom said.
“How many people are you feeding for two grand? We’re talking coffee and pastries. How many people are employed at Village Garden School?”
“Staff and teachers number forty-two total,” she said.
That’s it? I expected more for two grand.“Forty-two? The math doesn’t work. Let’s say at twenty bucks a person, that’s not even eight-hundred and fifty dollars. What did he spend the extra grand on?”
Mom looked irritated. “The startup of the school has been expensive. Maybe this invoice is for cumulative events?”
I showed her the paper. “It doesn’t read like that.” Just one more thing that wasn’t adding up. That was the story of Josh. “Can I keep this?”
Dad nodded. “I have everything stored in a file.”
Mom warned, “You should stay out of this, Sam. Nosing around in this business won’t serve you well.”
“Having DB investigate this is taking a far greater risk, as far as I’m concerned,” I said. “I think I’ll head over to June’s. See what I can find out.”
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have much time. I have to get what DB told me up on the website soon or else he’ll think I’m playing favorites. I can’t leave your name out of it.”
I gave him a hug. “I know, Dad. Just give me a few minutes to get to June’s before you hit publish.”
“It’ll be in Monday’s edition, too.”
Dad did a print run on Thursday and Monday, but updated the paper online daily.
I said my goodbyes and ignored the worried look on my parents’ faces. Because Josh had asked me to take pictures for the school’s yearbook, I decided I wouldn’t stop because he was dead. The probability that the killer was connected to the school was high.
I stopped at LC long enough to collect my camera then walked to How Ya Bean. The Real Housewives of Wind River were all in attendance, sitting around a table, iPads out, wearing UGG boots, with leggings and tunics. No one was dressed in exercise clothes.
June stood behind the counter, face drawn tight. Typically, she greeted customers when they walked in with, “How ya bean?” but not today.
The PTC mommies gave me the stink eye. I made my way to the counter to order. “Hey, June, how’s it going?”
She looked at me, but I got the feeling she didn’t see me. “What can I get you?”
I touched her arm. “You okay, June?”
She jumped liked I shocked her and stepped away. She appeared startled to see me. “What are you doing here, Sam?”
My guess was that her mother had fed her theories about me to June.
“I was hoping to get a cup of your amazing coffee and some pictures. Until I’m told otherwise, I’m still taking candids for the school per Josh’s request.” I added the last part for good measure.
“My mom said—”
“Your mom thinks I pushed Josh, and he hit his head and died. I know. But that’s not true. The medical examiner hasn’t determined the cause of death. At first the cops thought he might have been a victim of that vaping lung disease that’s been in the news.”
She blanched. “That’s awful. How did they find out he vaped?”
My answer was to shrug and pretend I didn’t know. The less I shared, the better off I’d be. If I could get her to doubt her mother’s chatter, maybe I could keep the gossip to a minimum. “You’ve known me for a long time, June. My husband was married to another woman, and she’s still alive. If I were a killer, wouldn’t I target her?”
June looked skeptical, but she appeared to weigh my words.
“I watched him die, June.” My voice cracked on the “d” word.
“Was it awful?” she said.
“Awful is an understatement.”
She lowered her voice, her hand over her heart. “Did he suffer?”
She seemed pained to imagine it, and I wanted to soften the blow the best I could. From what I’d seen, Josh had been her friend.
“It was quick.” Relatively speaking.
She shook her head and swiped a finger under her eyes. “He’s really gone.”
Timing was something I needed to work on, but not today. “Josh mentioned you’d catered a few school events. That must have been fun. Or stressful, considering what all you had to do.”
She shrugged. “Catering is not the best word. I mean, I supplied a few boxes of coffee, cups, and pastries.”
“If I wanted to have something catered by you, what would two grand get me?”
June reared back. “Two grand? How many people are you thinking of inviting? I’ve never done over seventy-five dollars. On average, I charge fifteen a person. So if you wanted something catered, then just add that by how many you want to invite.”
Did I whip out the invoice? Yep.
“Look.” I unfolded the paper. “I found this. Does it look right?” I didn’t want to assume, right? Perhaps there was a logical explanation.
She shook her head, and her mouth pressed into a hard line. She slapped her hand on the counter and left me standing there.
She was a woman bent on a mission as she stomped to the back of the cafe. I followed, went to take off my lens cap, and then realized it was still missing as I walked behind June.
“Smile, ladies.” I took a shot of the mommies.
Past the bathrooms were June’s office and the stockroom. June was standing in her office at the computer, mumbling.
“June?” I stepped beyond the threshold and was surprised by the clutter. June was such an organized person, well put together. But this office had stacks of paper everywhere. On a cork board over her desk hung five sheets of paper. A quick glance showed two newspaper headlines declaring Josh’s death. Two personal articles about Josh and his part in the com
munity were from my dad’s paper and an group email about coordinating some sort of ceremony for Josh. In the seat of her desk chair was a large box, overflowing with odd and ends of clothing, a purse, and store bags from local shops.
“What’s all this?” I nodded to the wall.
She clapped her hands inches from my face. I jumped back.
“Focus, this is about that invoice you have.” She pointed to the screen. “Look. My invoice doesn’t match his. That invoice was for a small group of twelve people. I added a little for tax. My note says right here it was for the office staff. Not teachers.”
I stepped around the desk and looked at her screen. “How did you give him this invoice?” Her notes were on her invoice, but they’d been removed from Josh’s.
“PDF,” she said.
Easy enough to change with the right software. “You know Toby Wagonknecht? He can set this up so your PDFs can’t be altered.” I was sure that was a possibility.
“That snake changed my invoice.” Instantly, she clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Looks like it,” I said. “I heard him arguing with Laura Danner at the fair. He helped himself to the family’s cache of water, too.”
Through her hands, she said, “I shouldn’t say anything ill about the dead.”
“But?”
She shook her head. Her eyes wide.
“Wasn’t he dating Laura Danner?”
She nodded.
“So it’s not such a big deal that he takes her water? I’m sure he was going to return it.” I needed someone to fill in the blanks, and June might be able to do that. “It’s not like doctoring invoices.”
She dropped her hands from her mouth. “Only the Danners are real big on self-sufficiency. Taking their cache is a big no-no.”
I leaned against her desk. “I don’t get it. Isn’t every one big on self-sufficiency?”
June’s expression said she was questioning my IQ. “Self-sufficient. Like homesteading. One step removed from being a prepper.”
The difference? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was about philosophy. Regardless, June had said “prepper” like it was a dirty word. And if June was throwing shade on the prepper philosophy, I could see the rumor mill twisting Laura’s practice to match just for the shock value aspect of the gossip.
