by Rosie Sams
Melody knew she wasn’t supposed to go inside. But maybe Carole had come in to pick up her things, and the thief attacked her.
“Carole? Are you here? Do you need help?”
Melody stepped inside the back door and walked to the door of Carole’s office, stepping over the box.
Inside was Bill Garland, hunched over on his side on the floor with the desk chair on top of him. The man was dead on the floor of Carole’s office.
Chapter Sixty-Five
A patrol car arrived, and Melody was escorted out of the building—through the front door, not the back. After calling the death in, the officer secured the scene, stringing up miles and miles of yellow police tape around the front and rear of the office. Then, around the front sidewalk, the sidewalk along the side of the building, the entire alleyway, and up into the trees. Then he started taking photos with his cell phone.
Melody and Smudge waited on a bench in front of the law office. She had called Al, and Leslie to tell her what had happened. Leslie had offered to close the shop to stay with her, but Melody knew that they had too many orders to want to add more chaos to the situation. So, she sat in the chilly drizzle, holding Smudge on her lap, and letting the Frenchie lick her hand in sympathy.
Al arrived at about the same time that Melody was starting to shiver. He sat next to her and handed her a cup of hot coffee with cocoa, which she sipped gratefully.
“You okay? Chilly or shock?” he asked.
“A bit of both,” she admitted.
He put his arm around her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be helping investigate?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m just the sheriff,” he said. “The best thing I can do is let the professionals get on with it. Nothing will mess up an investigation like the boss sticking his finger into the pie. I’m just here to catch any TV crews who want an interview with someone who has no idea what’s going on but will gladly waste their time for them.”
She laughed.
“I’ll get reports later. I have good people,” Al added.
A black BMW pulled up and parked at the front curb just past the police tape. Wayne Truman stepped out. He was a blond-haired man in his late forties, with dark brown eyes and a tidy, trimmed beard. Even in the winter, the tops of his pale ears were a little sunburned—Melody, with her Irish skin, could relate.
He wore a wine-colored suit with a pale blue shirt, navy tie, paisley blue pocket square, and burgundy shoes. Bill Gardner, according to Carole Archer, had always insisted on his employees wearing professional clothing, but Wayne seemed to have pushed “professional” all the way to the edge of “showy”, at least this morning.
“I heard the news,” Wayne said, stopping at the bench by Al. “What happened? When did it happen? Did anyone see anything?”
“Investigations are ongoing, Mr. Truman,” Al said. “We don’t know too much just yet. But it appears that your boss, Mr. Gardner, is definitely the deceased, although I would like to have you make a formal identification for me, if you would.”
“I understand,” Wayne said.
“I have a few questions for you,” Al said, sitting up and taking his arm off Melody’s shoulder. “Mind if I ask? I particularly would like to know if Mr. Gardner had any appointments this morning.”
“I’m not sure,” Wayne said. “You should call Ms. Gray, our secretary.” He gave Al her cell phone number. “Or I could step into the office and check at the reception desk.”
“I might have you do that later,” Al said, “but for now, let’s leave that be.”
“Any suspects?” Wayne asked. “My phone was ringing off the hook last night with everyone wanting to know about the fracas between Mr. Gardner and Carole’s husband, Trevor, at the tree-lighting ceremony.”
Melody thought, Meowww! What a cat! She hadn’t spent much time around Wayne Truman before. As far as Carole had ever said, he was a little vain but scrupulously professional, as if his reputation were a starched white shirt.
“I’m sure you might have been tempted to plant one on him, too,” Melody said. “I heard you were also up for a bonus, and being made full partner, before Bill decided to spend his profits elsewhere.”
Wayne flashed her a smile, then turned back to Al, completely ignoring her statement.
“Did he have any enemies?” Al asked.
Wayne shook his head. “Not as such… although, someone like Bill Gardner had not made many friends.”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Truman, I’d like to know where you were from the parade last night until about now, too,” Al said.
“I was at the parade last night, marching with my sister’s high-school band class, right in front of everyone. I didn’t see the altercation with Bill because our group hadn’t arrived at the park yet. We were still on Main Street, playing ‘God Bless Ye Merry Gentlemen’ for the hundredth time. We went to the park with the band kids and stayed until ten-thirty. Then I had a late supper at my sister’s. After that I went home and was on the phone for several hours, as I said, talking to people. I’m sure you can obtain my phone records if you like. Finally, I turned my phone off and went to sleep. I had only just dressed this morning when I was interrupted by an officer knocking at my door a few minutes ago. I then drove straight here, without even stopping for a cup of coffee.”
Al nodded. “That sounds fine. I’ll have a deputy take a formal statement from you later.”
“If I were to kill my boss, don’t you think I’d do it somewhere other than my place of business?” Wayne added, still not looking at Melody. “Now, if you and your lady friend…”
“Witness,” Al interrupted. “Melody saw someone leaving the building this morning and called it in.”
“Oh?”
Melody ignored the man’s question. After hearing him almost flat-out accuse Carole of being a suspect, she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Investigations are ongoing. Now, if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to the deputy who’s taking formal interviews…” Al shrugged and led the man away.
“How dare he accuse Carole of being involved?” Melody said when Al returned. She was still steaming. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Sorry, Mel, but she and Trevor are suspects. Even if you don’t think they did it, they still need to be questioned.” He made a thoughtful face. “I was planning to ask them a few informal questions this morning. Want to come with me, to provide some moral support?”
“Are you up to something, Sheriff Hennessey?” Melody asked.
Al nodded. “Smudge and I might have a few things planned. But don’t tell the deputies.”
Melody rolled her eyes, and walked with Smudge to Al’s SUV.
Chapter Sixty-Six
The Archers lived in a small, shingle-sided house with a wide front porch and a picket fence. The front yard was decorated with lights all along the fence and around the doorway, with a cheerful evergreen wreath on the front door.
Al knocked on the door, and Carole answered it. Her eyes red and her face puffy, she was wearing sweats and her Christmas-bow-decorated slippers. “Hi, Al. I can’t say I’m surprised to see you. Someone stopped by earlier to ask me some questions.”
“May I step in?” Al asked. “I brought Melody and Smudge with me. Is that all right?”
“I don’t mind,” Carole said. “The kids are awake. I’m sure they’d love to visit with Smudge.”
Stepping back and opening the door she let them in. The house was small but efficient-looking, and it was merrily decorated, with a large tree that seemed to swallow up the small living room. Several presents rested under the tree.
“I hoped to have more presents under the tree this year,” Carole said. “Now I don’t know whether we’ll even have a house by this time next year.”
Trevor stepped out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “Carole… you can’t let yourself get down like that. You know that it’s all for the best.”
“All for the best?” Car
ole asked numbly.
“You will find another job,” Trevor said firmly. “We have savings, the house is almost paid off, and I’m taking on more freelance work. We’ll be okay.”
“I just feel so… tired.” Carole ran her hands through her hair and across her face. She looked exhausted.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. That man would have worn me out, too.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Trevor first,” Al said. “Let’s give the ladies time to, uh, get themselves settled.”
“That sounds fine,” Trevor said. “The kids are in the playroom, watching some cartoons. Let’s step into my office, if we’ll both fit, that is. It’s small.”
He opened a folding door along one side of the hall and stepped in, Al following him.
“Do you want any coffee?” Carole asked.
“No, thanks,” Melody said. “Al just brought me some. How are you doing?”
“Terribly,” Carole said. “Why pretend? I’m going to have to take some of the presents back. The children will be so disappointed.”
Melody reached out to take her hand. “They’ll understand. They love you, not the presents.”
“I just feel like I’ve let everyone down. After we got home last night, I just… I just lay down and slept all night long. This morning seems like a dream. I can barely function.”
“I understand,” Melody said. She couldn’t let Carole dwell on her troubles. She had to change the subject. “But at least you have a lovely Christmas tree.”
Carole burst into tears.
The door of the office opened, and Al stepped into the hallway. He was holding a folded-up, oddly-stained piece of white computer paper in one hand. He stepped into the kitchen, spotted a box of plastic freezer bags on the counter, and took one of them out, dropping the paper inside with a thunk.
“Al…?” Melody asked.
Trevor had followed Al out, looking grim.
“Carole, could you tell me what a bloodstained letter opener with the Gardner Offices logo was doing in your purse this morning?” Al asked.
Carole’s eyes widened, and all the blood drained out of her face. She grabbed the counter.
“I put it there,” Trevor said.
“You put it there?” Al did not look convinced.
“This morning,” Trevor said. “I forgot I had it in my hand and tossed it under the desk. It must have landed in Carole’s purse.”
“Where did you get it from?” Al asked calmly.
“From Gardner’s law office.”
“When?”
“This morning,” Trevor said.
“Trevor!” Carole’s voice rose,
“I did it. I confess,” Trevor spat out the words in a rush. “I killed Bill Gardner this morning at six-thirty, before my wife even woke up. She has no idea that I did it. Do what you must to me.”
And then he held out his wrists for Al to put on the cuffs.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Melody had tried to comfort Carole, but the poor woman was inconsolable. She didn’t cry after Al took Trevor with him to the sheriff’s office, but seemed to go completely flat. It was like she was on autopilot.
As Melody watched, she went into the room where her children were watching TV and announced that their dad had had to step out for a while but would be back later. Then she asked them what they would like for breakfast, as if nothing strange had happened. She had completely ignored Melody and even Smudge, and eventually the two of them left, walking slowly through the last of the damp autumn leaves back toward Melody’s house, which fortunately wasn’t far away.
She didn’t think Trevor had done it. He seemed like the kind of guy who might punch someone in the jaw during a heated argument—obviously—but he didn’t seem to be the kind of guy to murder his wife’s boss in cold blood. Then again, maybe he’d gone to the law office earlier that morning in order to try to do the same thing that Melody had tried, to get Bill to change his mind about firing Carole.
But at six-thirty in the morning?
And why had he hung around until almost eight, when Melody had seen the figure running out of the office, if he had? That didn’t make any sense.
It almost sounded like he was trying to cover up for Carole. But, even if he was, why say that it had happened at six-thirty? Who would go into the office at six-thirty to talk to their wife’s boss? Wouldn’t they wait until just before the shop opened at eight? Bill Gardner didn’t seem like the kind of guy who came in early to get his work done. He was more like the guy who made everyone else come in early to get his work done for him.
Maybe Carole had come in early to pick up her things. The cardboard box next to her door seemed to lend credence to that.
But still… why would she have hung around for so long, if that was what had happened?
Melody went back to Decadently Delicious to take over for Leslie. The bakery was supposed to stay open later into the evening, more for customers to pick up their orders than anything else. Melody tried to convince herself that she was perfectly capable of staying open until seven. Unfortunately, she found her attention wandering constantly. She’d feel better if Al called her and told her what was going on. She knew that Al was just doing his job, but she couldn’t help thinking that he’d made a mistake in arresting Trevor.
At noon, Kerry stopped by with lunch, which was homemade chicken soup and a green salad, with rolls from the bakery. While it was tempting to skip lunch and just munch on lopsided, unsellable cookies all day, the three of them had agreed that they would try to keep an eye on each other and eat reasonably well during the holiday season.
Kerry caught them up on the gossip, which was that Trevor had murdered Bill for putting the moves on his wife. Even though Bill hadn’t done anything like that, as far as the three of them knew.
“I say let the rumors fly,” Kerry said. “If Bill Gardner had wanted to look like the good guy after his death, he should have been one.”
“But Trevor and Carole suffer from those rumors, too,” Leslie pointed out. “It won’t be long before people start saying that they were having an affair, and Trevor killed Bill out of revenge.”
“If they were having an affair, why did he fire Carole?” Kerry asked. “That makes no sense.”
“Rumors don’t have to make sense,” Leslie pointed out, to which all three of them could only agree grimly.
The bell rang over the door. Sheila Weatherby had stopped by to buy some holiday cookies, just as she had mentioned the day before at the parade.
“I’ll take some of these… and some of those… and some of those…”
Sheila managed to limit herself to a dozen people cookies, but splurged on several dozen doggie cookies, saying that she wanted to give out treats at her other job.
“Someday,” she told Melody, “I’m going to open my dream business, where you can schedule either a people haircut or a doggy do.”
“What about your nail salon?” Melody asked, although she thought that a salon where she and Smudge could both get pampered sounded like an excellent idea.
“I only lease the storefront there,” Sheila said. “It’s a good business, but… it’s limiting. I want to own my property. The more and more successful that I get, and my business is successful, the more I find myself pulled toward expanding into other services.”
Melody wondered if she’d ever get tired of being a baker and need to expand into a restaurant or something, but suspected she probably wouldn’t. “What are you going to call it?”
“Sheila’s Pet and Person Grooming,” Sheila said. “I like to keep things simple.”
Melody chuckled. “That’s simple, all right.”
“I just need someone to help me out as a business partner,” Sheila said. “I thought I had a nibble at one point, but apparently that fish has already been hooked.” She made a wry face. “Big time.”
“What happened?” Melody asked, curious.
Sheila shook her head. “Ah, well, let’s just
say he turned me down flat.” She gave Melody a crooked smile. “Petty of me, I know, but I heard his fortunes took a sudden downturn after that, so I feel a little better about it.”
“Only a little petty.” Melody said, with a grin.
Sheila laughed. “Say, I have some openings this afternoon at the nail salon. Any of you ladies interested in an appointment?” Then she made a gesture of taking a nail file to her fingertips.
Leslie and Kerry both showed interest. “I’m more interested in taking Smudge out for some pampering,” Melody said.
Sheila winked. “I didn’t forget. I’ll be at the pet store later tonight. Stop on by.”
Melody promised her she would try, and Sheila left with Kerry, who was her new next appointment. Leslie finished up with her baking as Melody wrapped pastries, cakes, pies, and other sweets for customer pickups. At three, Leslie left for the day, making Melody promise to call her if she needed any help.
At six, Al stopped by. Melody was dying for news.
“Arrested the real murderer yet?” she teased.
Al sighed. “Sorry, Mel. I have to ask you more questions. Do you remember anything else about the person you saw running away from the Gardner law office at a quarter to eight?”
“Not really,” Melody said. She closed her eyes and let herself visualize the scene. “He had his back to me the entire time, and when I actually saw him, he was already behind that big trash container.”
“He?” Al asked. “Could it have been a woman?”
“I…” Melody screwed up her face, trying to remember. “I don’t know. I have the impression that it was a man, but I really couldn’t say why. A dark suit or coat. Blue or black without any decorations, short, dark hair?”
“No hat?”
“Not like a cowboy hat or anything. It was so dim from the drizzle, and the streetlights had just shut off.”
It was the same description that she’d given him earlier.
