Best Laid Plans

by Kristi Rose

  “You can always stop now. With the information Lockett has, the police should be reinvestigating the case. DB will have to put me on it. He’s too short-staffed.”

  Appalled he would even suggest such a thing, I said, “I made a promise to you and to Laura. As unnerved as I am—note, I didn’t say scared—I’ll see this through.”

  Even if the killer was someone I knew. Even if that made me more jaded and ate away at a bit of my happy parts leaving a fist-sized dark black void of cynicism that threatened to grow.

  32

  Wednesday

  June’s was my first stop. Coffee was needed if I had any intention of getting to the bottom of this case.

  Last night I’d fired off an email requesting a meeting with Danika. Barging in and calling her a liar, then asking for information, wouldn’t work. I didn’t need how-to YouTube videos to tell me that.

  The constant checking of my phone for a response made me look twitchy with an addiction to either coffee, my phone and the easy online access, or something more nefarious.

  The line at How Ya Bean was six people deep. June was running the espresso machine. She looked rough, not fully over the flu. Her complexion was nearly translucent, and her hair was pulled into a messy bun that tomorrow would look greasy. She wasn’t wearing any makeup nor dressed in her cute hipster fashion of leggings, short skirts, tight T-shirts, a cardigan, and Birkenstocks. Today she wore baggy sweats and a T-shirt that should reside in the rag bin.

  I scrolled through my email. Nothing from Danika. Impatience getting the best of me, I called the school. Thankfully, the other office assistant answered and not Mrs. Rivers. She put me on hold as she transferred me to Danika. Three rings later, and the call went to her voice mail. I called the front office again and got the same woman.

  Desperation to catch a killer made me lie. I told the assistant I wanted to make a donation to the school, but I needed Danika to tell me what to do. Danika was, after all, now in charge until a new principal could be hired.

  The woman asked, “I don’t know why she didn’t pick up. I can see her through the door, and she’s just sitting there, messing with her purse. No one is in her office. Let me try again.”

  Three rings later, voice mail.

  My right eye began to twitch.

  “Can I help you?” the teen at the register said.

  My turn. “Twenty-ounce white mocha latte, please.” I shifted my focus to June. “Hey, June. How you feeling?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me, faked a smile, all while banging coffee out of the machine’s portafilter. “I’ve been better.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I think we all have. Anything I can do to help?”

  She shook her head while attaching the newly filled portafilter to the machine, then shifted to frothing milk.

  This time she gave me a genuine smile. “That’s a nice offer, Sam. Thanks.” She poured dark brew into two cups and added milk. She then passed them to the kid working the station next to her. After, she stepped to the counter toward me.

  In a low voice she asked, “I heard they arrested Boomer Jacobson. Is that true?”

  I scratched my ear in hesitation, pondering what I should share.

  She hurried to add, “I only ask because I want to know if the Danner kid will be let go. Shocked me to hear he’d been arrested. I thought maybe you might know more, considering your dad and the paper and all.”

  I shrugged, “You know as much as I do at this point. Boomer hasn’t been officially charged, so that means Levi stays put until Boomer is.”

  Her reaction was unexpected. She broke out into a large smile. “I know this is mean, but I cannot wait to see Carlie’s face when Boomer is charged. Serves her right. She has everything. A husband, kids, a nice house, and she messed it all up by having a fling with Josh.”

  I straightened. “You knew about Carlie and Josh?”

  June snorted. “You only had to watch them for a couple weeks to figure it out.”

  “Josh was a piece of work,” I said, letting my professionalism slip and my bias show.

  June leaned against the counter. “He wasn’t that bad. Broken inside. Needed lots of affirmation.”

  Did she forget that he forged some receipts of hers to collect more money and make her business look sketchy? If so, then I expected people would begin their Principal Josh lament soon, and it would sound like those on the true crime shows. The old, “Oh, Josh. He was fun and nice. Not a mean bone in his body. Everyone liked him.”

  Only someone didn’t like him because they killed him, and two other people attempted to harm him. So…

  “Hey,” I said intent on changing the subject. I pulled the paper out of my back pocket. “Do you remember this?” It was the picture of Josh being named principal but taken at How Ya Bean.

  She nodded.

  I grinned and shuffled awkwardly, playing up my discomfort. “This is a dumb question, but why was this taken here and not at the school?”

  June looked at the picture and smiled wistfully as she likely recalled the day. “The school was being renovated and Josh didn’t have an office. He worked out of here a lot.” She pointed to the sign over the calendar. “Free WIFI and all that. Why is that a dumb question?”

  I feigned embarrassment. “Because I knew the explanation had to be reasonable, but couldn’t, for the life of me, figure it out.” I lowered my voice. “Not much of a PI, am I?” I faked an awkward laugh.

  June laughed with me. The front door chimed, and we both looked in that direction. Danika stepped inside. Our eyes met across the room, and a second later, she swiveled on her heel and rushed out of the shop.

  “Hey.” I chased after her.

  I caught up with her half a block away. She was quick for having a short stride, but my stride was bigger because of my long legs.

  I grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her toward me. “I get the feeling you’re avoiding me. Makes me want to know why.”

  She stepped back, but I anticipated her move and herded her against the building, boxing her in.

  “I don’t have anything to say,” she protested.

  “How do you know what I’m going to ask?” I placed my hands on my hips and stared her down.

  “I’m sure it’s about Josh, and I don’t know anything.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest with each hand brushing away goosebumps on her upper arms.

  I tsked. “Yeah, see. Your body language says that’s not true. I watched several videos on this online, and I’m becoming quite the expert.”

  This got her attention. Her look was skepticism mixed with irritation. “Are you serious? You’re learning to be a PI online?”

  “Don’t judge. Lots of programs are online now. I think even what you do can be achieved with online courses.”

  “Touché,” she said.

  I continued, “And how about you telling me why you lied? You didn’t resign. What were you and Josh really discussing so animatedly that day he died? This time go with the truth.”

  She sighed wearily. “I told Josh I was going to quit.”

  “Because?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Because he was a buffoon, and his mind was on getting laid twenty-four seven.”

  Click. Some pieces snapped together. “And this bugged you because…” I was confident I knew the answer.

  “You’re asking if I dated Josh, right? You want me to say it.” She groaned and shook her head.

  I nodded.

  She leaned against the building, closed her eyes, and covered her cheeks with her hands to hide the pink stain of embarrassment. “I did. But not for long.”

  “Why not for long?”

  She opened her eyes and gave me a pointed look. “Because I became privy to who he was under all that I’m-Mr. Do-right.”

  At this pace, we would be here forever. “Listen, I suck at picking up inferences. How about you just start at the beginning, lay it all out for me, and that way I won’t make as
sumptions where you’re leaving blanks. I could make some wrong ones, and that wouldn’t be a lot of fun for either of us.”

  “You’re as tenacious as your sister.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. We get it from our parents.”

  She laughed. “Josh hit on me two weeks after I took the job. I’ll admit I was flattered because I thought he was handsome.” She grimaced.

  “Yeah, I get that. For most people his first impression is awesome. It’s the second glance that shows his true colors.”

  Her eyes widened. “Exactly.”

  “But I get the feeling you didn’t fall into his arms.”

  She shook her head. “I’d just ended a three-year relationship. I wasn’t looking to date, or even to have a casual fling. Josh offered that as an option, too.”

  I said, “What a pig.”

  Her smile was huge. “The more he pushed, the more I resisted. He was like a dog with a bone. I’d say no, he’d push harder. Then he started showing up at the tennis club and asking me to play a few games. That’s what wore me down. You know what it’s like when you meet a guy, you learn all about what they like, but they don’t take an interest in what you like.”

  She waited for me to agree. I nodded, though Carson had seemed interested in my hobbies.

  “You guys started playing tennis together?”

  “And a friendship formed, or so I thought.” She ducked her head, her long brown hair shading her face. “Ugh, I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Why? I haven’t heard anything that should make you feel that way.”

  She looked up at me through her hair. “Because at this same time, someone was breaking into my car, stealing my racket and shoes, and once the coins from my cup holder.”

  “How many times did this happen?”

  “Three. It scared me. Particularly because the police had no clue, and it felt personal. Know what I mean?”

  Yep. “Because why continue to take your equipment? To break into a car once and take everything, including coins, is a crime of opportunity. To repeat it feels personal. And who makes a killing pawning secondhand sports gear?”

  Danika looked impressed. “Wow, those are some good videos you’re watching.”

  I didn’t bother to correct her that my assessment was common sense, not YouTube.

  “This is the embarrassing part,” she said. “I was nervous staying alone at night. I figured this burglar would escalate and break into my house. Josh offered to stay the night with me. He said he’d watch the car and see if he could catch the person.”

  “Did he?”

  She shook her head and pressed her fingers to her cheeks. “He only offered as a way to try to get into my pants.”

  “You weren’t sleeping with him?” It was a personal and invasive question, but I needed to know.

  “Nope, drove him nuts. He would come over all the time. Just drop by and bring flowers or coffee or whatever. Little things. At work, there would be chocolates on my desk, and every time my racket was stolen, he’d buy me a new one. Part of me thought maybe he was breaking into my car just so he would have an excuse to stay the night.”

  I grinned. “Any chance you like true crime?”

  She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Yeah, and we had to learn about escalating behaviors and manipulation in school as part of our psych education.”

  “I’m sorry to pry, but why didn’t you two, you know, bang uglies?” I hoped to keep our conversations light and not threatening. And to keep her talking.

  She curled her lip. “Gross.”

  I waited for her to continue.

  She sighed. “Because I don’t do casual.”

  “I get that. I don’t either. Or if I did, I wouldn’t be good at it.”

  She pointed her index finger at me. “And I didn’t know this at the time, but in hindsight, I think my instincts told me he wasn’t who he pretended to be.”

  “How so?”

  “He used to come over smelling like smoke. I asked him if he smoked, and he adamantly denied it. Said he was somewhere where people smoked. But he was coming around every day at this point. That meant between work ending and him showing up at the tennis club or my apartment, he went somewhere where there were smokers? Where’s that? All the restaurants and bars are smoke-free.”

  I delivered my bomb. “Apparently he liked to smoke after sex.”

  Danika’s smile grew. “I know. June told me that one day when I was getting coffee.”

  “June?”

  “Yeah, Josh had been in there one morning and left when I came in. I made an off-the-cuff remark about how he probably had to rush out to get his smoking fix, and she told me he only smoked after sex.”

  My mouth gaped.

  Danika continued, “I figured she knew what she was talking about seeing as how she’d dated him.”

  Laura had mentioned this but said she couldn’t confirm if it were true. Danika was about to do that for me. “June dated Josh?”

  “Yeah, right when he moved to town. For a while, too. But he said it never was serious. Forgive me for being old-fashioned, but I think sleeping with someone makes the relationship serious.”

  33

  Wednesday

  Intentional or not, Danika’s revelation shifted my focus off her and onto June.

  June?

  Last night when Leo and I talked about the probability someone we knew had committed this murder, I’d secretly believed that to be Danika. Labeling her a murderess was easier to swallow than June. June, who never once made fun of me in school for not being a good reader, or for mixing up directions, and not knowing my left and right.

  Nah, not sweet, smiling June. Her mother, maybe.

  I left Danika by the wall and stumbled toward the coffee shop. Surely, June would have a reasonable explanation.

  Though, if the murder wasn’t committed by June, Danika, or Boomer, then I was back to square one.

  Before I could reach the coffee shop, someone called my name. I turned to find Toby rushing toward me. His yellow banana-shaped squirrel keeper swinging around his neck.

  “Hey,” he waved. “I’ve been looking for you.” When he reached me, he bent over, placing his hands on his upper thighs and panted. Though Toby was a rail-thin man, it was clear he lacked sufficient stamina.

  “You should work on that,” I told him. “One day you might need to run for your life, and that won’t be an option unless the person has even worse endurance than you.”

  He crossed his fingers. “I’m due some good luck, so I’ll hold out hope that if I’m ever chased, it’ll be by a sloth.” He slid off the banana carrier from around his neck and looped it over mine. “I need you to watch Lady Marmalade.”

  “Wait, what?” The weight of the sugar glider was slight, like a little ball nestled between my breasts. When I looked into the pouch, her dark eyes blinked back at me.

  Toby said, “She likes you and she hates being in the car for longer than twenty minutes. I have a lot of pickups to do today, so I’ll be in the car most of the morning.”

  I jerked a thumb to point behind me at How Ya Bean. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of who murdered Josh. It might be June. Do you want Lady Marmalade exposed to that?”

  He rolled his eyes. “June? Please.” He snapped his fingers in sudden memory. “Oh, that reminds me. I found some of Josh’s older calendars. They’d been deleted, but we all know nothing is ever really deleted.” He snorted with IT derision, like the rest of us tech dumb-dumbs were stupidly unaware. Which was true to a degree.

  He continued, “Anyway, for at least six months, Josh had a unicorn on his calendar every week. There are a few months missing, so I can’t get a full picture of the time period.”

  “Was the first unicorn appearance the few months after he moved here and took the job at the school?”

  Toby nodded. “Yeah, I also did a cross-search on unicorns in general to see if there might have been any correlation. They were trending. Have been for a while. Unicorn cake, shi
rts, and themed parties. Even your dad wrote a piece on how trends affect all towns and mentioned June’s Unicorn Brew. I sent the article and pages to your email.”

  I swallowed past the knot of dread lodged in my throat and went to give Lady M back to Toby. “I can’t—”

  He covered his ears. “You owe me,” he shouted as he backed away. “Remember when I was shot?” He turned and fast-walked to his eco-friendly eraser cap-shaped car.

  I stared down at Lady M. “Looks like you and I need to talk to June. I should warn you, she could be a killer. If you have any of those magical, emotional support vibes in you, now would be a good time to share.”

  She cooed and stuck her head out of the pouch, looked around, then ducked back in.

  Inside the coffee shop, June was nowhere. When I asked the teen working the register, she said June had gone to her office.

  I hustled past the restrooms and to June’s office. The door was open; the lights were on, but when I stepped over the threshold, I saw plenty of bat-shit crazy stuff, but no June. Papers were everywhere, stapled in no discernible pattern to the walls and ceiling. Receipts, doodles of unicorns on scrap paper of various sizes, articles about the coffee shop, the VGS, Josh’s appointment as the school’s principal, his death and endless pages of engagement and wedding announcements.

  It was like a tree exploded, or at the very worse, sprayed the room with paper-barf. Her computer was buried under piles of notes. I thumbed through them, skimming and scanning the pages for keywords, some papers looked to be drink combinations. Others were scribbles in various scripts and prints of June’s name paired with Josh’s surname. Mrs. June Chapman. Mrs. J. Chapman. Mr. and Mrs. Joshua and June Chapman.

  The heat clicked on, and paper began to flutter under the forced air. The sound of crinkled paper was telling a story, only I didn’t understand the words.

  I would have sunk into the chair, stunned, but the chair had been pushed to the corner. A box full of paper reams in the seat. It appeared June had used the box of papers to stand on and staple—I stepped up to the paper on the wall—my dad’s last article about Boomer being brought in for questioning. A large smiley face had been drawn in pink ink over the article. Next to it was a picture of the PTC committee. Carlie’s face had been erased with such force, the paper was gone. The page overlaid another, and beneath it was the picture used in the article of Josh getting assigned the principal’s job. June’s image showed between the jagged edges of the torn paper.