A Field Guide to Homicide

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A Field Guide to Homicide Page 12

by Lynn Cahoon


  “Actually, no, but I do need to talk with Sherry Flood. Does she have a minute?” Cat held up the cookie box. “We have a delivery for her.”

  “Oh, my, she will be ecstatic. I swear, she’s had such a bad week, she deserves a truckload of cookies.” The receptionist reached for her phone.

  “Oh, no. What’s been going on?” Cat asked as the woman looked for a number on a sheet.

  “An ex-fiancé died recently. The police were here to talk to her on Monday to break the news. The principal substituted in for her class for the rest of the day. She was distraught.” The receptionist held up a finger. “Sherry? Are you with parents? No? Great. I’m sending a delivery down to your classroom.”

  She hung up the phone and stood, smiling. “She has ten minutes before her next appointment. You have plenty of time.”

  As the woman gave them directions to the classroom, Cat thought about Sherry’s reaction to hearing about Chance’s death. She guessed finding out a guy was dead a second time couldn’t have been easy. But then again, it had been over ten years.

  They walked down the wide hallway, decorated with fall foliage handmade by the students from each class. As they walked away from the office, the class level must have increased as the projects were more detailed and more attractive.

  Mrs. Flood’s name was over a door in big letters made of construction paper. Cat glanced at Shirley as she opened the door. “Ready for this?”

  “As much as possible. You have the lead. I’m just here to see what she says.” Shirley grinned.

  “And to keep me out of trouble with Uncle Pete.”

  Shirley shrugged. “It’s a side benefit.”

  A dark-haired woman stood from her desk when they entered. A laptop sat on the desk, along with a large cup that probably held coffee. Cat could smell the rich goodness.

  A smile creased the woman’s face as she walked toward them. She reached out a hand. “Good afternoon. I’m Sherry Flood. Are you related to one of my children?”

  Cat shook her head. “No, I run the writers’ retreat over by the college.”

  Sherry’s face showed her confusion. “I’m sorry, do you have me confused with someone else?”

  “No, I’m not explaining well, sorry. I’m Seth Howard’s girlfriend. I understand your ex-fiancé was a friend of his.”

  “You’re Cat.” Relief showed on Sherry’s face. “I was a couple years younger than you and Seth. You probably wouldn’t remember me. We ran in different circles. No one from that time would think I’d ever have become a teacher. Most of my teachers wouldn’t have thought I’d even finish high school.”

  “I’m not sure they expected me to succeed either. I was told that if I went to college I could be a nurse, a teacher, or a secretary. When I told my guidance counselor I wanted to be a police officer, he almost swallowed his tongue.” Shirley was glancing at the bookshelf near the door. She held up a well-used copy of A Wrinkle in Time. “One of my favorite books.”

  Sherry relaxed and eased a hip on the desk. “Mine too. I love reading it aloud to the class. What can I help you all with today?”

  “I wanted to say I was sorry for your loss.” Cat held out the box. “I guess I should be more specific. I’m sorry for your recent loss. It must have been hard finding out that Chance was alive all these years and then find out he was dead.”

  “Actually, I knew he was alive.” Sherry took the cookies and opened the box. “These smell heavenly.”

  Chapter 13

  Cat stood staring at the woman in stunned silence. She glanced over at Shirley, whose face was as impassive as stone. Finally, she decided to go with her gut. “Wait, you knew Chance was alive? When did you find out?”

  Sherry picked a cookie out of the box, then offered one to Cat and Shirley. Both women took a cookie, but let their hands drop down to their sides. Sherry went back to her desk and pulled out her chair. She nodded to the two folding chairs set up for parents by the side of the desk. “Grab a seat. It’s going to take a while to explain. But really, you have to leave as soon as the next set of parents arrives.”

  Cat and Shirley followed her directions and sat. When Sherry didn’t say anything else, Cat repeated her question. “So you knew that Chance was alive? The whole time?”

  “Oh, no.” Sherry shook her head and sat the cookie on a napkin she’d taken out of her desk. “I mourned him when they told me he was dead. I buried him; then I went on with my life. I met my husband while I was going to school. After graduation, we got married and I got pregnant. So we moved back here from California so I could be closer to my family. Nate doesn’t have family.”

  Cat bit at the cookie, reminding herself that Sherry needed to tell the story her way.

  Shirley must have felt the same way because she just nodded as Sherry hesitated.

  “Anyway, it was about five years ago. I was in the grocery store late one night. Nate volunteered to put Tricia down for me so I could go shopping. I turned the corner and ran my cart into his. When he looked up, I knew.” Sherry bit her lip. “He was older, of course, and had that awful beard, but I knew. He saw I recognized him and, well, I saw the tears in his eyes.”

  Sherry wiped at her own cheeks. “I finished my shopping and checked out, and he was there in the parking lot, waiting for me. He offered to buy me a coffee and then he told me everything.”

  The hair on the back of Cat’s neck rose. “What did he tell you?”

  “He said he’d been tired of the army. So when an opportunity arrived, he faked his death and moved home. Of course, if anyone knew, he’d go to prison, so I couldn’t tell anyone.” Sherry sipped her coffee. “Like I would have told anyone. He asked about my life, told me he was happy for me, and then we left. I tried to pay for the coffee, but he said he could afford a cup of coffee for an old friend.”

  “You’re sure he said he faked his own death?” I pressed the point. “That was the only reason he left Germany?”

  “That’s what he told me.” Sherry sighed. “Of course, I felt like he was holding something back. I thought it was about us. You know, since I was married and had a family and all. I thought he didn’t want to tell me how much he loved me still.”

  Cat felt Sherry’s gaze on her.

  “I heard you married some college professor. Chance thought if any couple would make it, it would be you and Seth.”

  The statement felt like an accusation. Cat tried not to be defensive, but she shifted in the metal chair. “We broke up between his assignments. I thought I was in love with Michael and married him. People make mistakes.”

  Sherry nodded slowly. “They do. Did you know Seth bought a ring while they were in Germany? Chance went with him to introduce him to a local jeweler. I guess he must have jumped the gun on the happily ever after.”

  A knock came at the door and Sherry held up a finger. The door closed again as Danny’s parents realized Sherry was talking to another family. One that maybe had more problems than their own.

  “That’s my cue. I’ve got to go back to my real world.” Sherry stood. “I know I probably didn’t give you what you wanted, but really, it’s all I have.”

  “I appreciate you talking with us.” Cat felt shell-shocked. She’d seen Seth in the back of the church when she’d pledged her love to another man, but she thought he was just there to make sure she was settled with the decision. At least, that’s what she’d told herself at the time.

  Tears shimmered in Sherry’s eyes and she opened a drawer to grab tissues. Cat wanted to reach out and pat the woman on the back, or give her a hug or something to let her know it was going to be okay. But she held back on the urge.

  “He lied to me, didn’t he?” Sherry watched their faces for a reaction. “Do you know why he left Germany?”

  Cat shook her head. “I don’t. But if I find out, I’ll let you know. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Somehow, the loss this time was more for what could have been. I grieved losing the man oh so many years ago. This
time, I had to let go of the fantasy relationship I could hold in my mind as a just in case. Which makes me sound like a real witch. But he was my first love.” Sherry walked them to the door. “Thanks again for the cookies. Although I think they’re going to be gone long before my conferences are completed today.”

  Shirley didn’t say anything until they were back on the sidewalk on the way home. “Well, that wasn’t what I expected to hear.”

  “I didn’t know what I expected, but you’re right. She knew he was alive five years ago. Which puts her and her husband back on the suspect list, doesn’t it?” Cat looked over at Shirley as they walked.

  “Maybe. Pete probably eliminated them by checking out their alibi when he first talked to them.” She nodded when she saw Cat’s dubious expression. “It saves time. Especially when you have no idea where an investigation is taking you. Crossing people off the list is just as important as finding the one who did it.”

  Shirley paused at the corner of Warm Springs. “I’m going to go to the station and give Pete this new information. It might not change who and what he’s looking at now, but I think it might cross some t’s for the investigation.”

  “I’ll see you back at the house.” Cat turned left to go to the house, leaving Shirley standing at the corner.

  “Cat?” Shirley called after her.

  Cat spun around and walked back toward Shirley for a few steps. “Yes?”

  “It was fun playing detective with you. You’re good at the interviewing thing because you put people at ease.”

  Cat waved and turned around. She’d thought Shirley was going to ask her how she’d felt about the ring. About Seth. Which, of course, Cat wouldn’t have been able to answer. When she got back to the house, Shauna was out of the kitchen, so Cat grabbed a soda and went upstairs to her office to work.

  There, she put down all the things she knew about the reclusive Chance and tried to set up a timeline. She still believed that there was a connection between what happened in Germany and Chance’s death. Proving it or even going down the right path at this point was going to be the problem.

  A knock came at the door and Cat realized it was dinnertime. “Come in,” she called out to probably the waiting Shauna. Instead, Brodie entered the room.

  “Cool office. I bet I could write the great American novel in a room like this.” He leaned on the doorway. “Shauna asked if I’d come up and let you know there’s soup on the stove. She had an appointment in town tonight.”

  Shauna’s grief group met on Wednesdays, so that was probably where she’d gone. Cat turned off her computer and stood. “Thanks. Are you going into town with the group?”

  He shook his head. “Actually, I’m going to let them go by themselves tonight. Any chance I could get some of that soup? If not, I can go back to the dorm and grab something at the cafeteria. I’m trying to get this chapter done tonight. If I plan it right, I might have the first draft done before I leave here on Sunday.”

  “Then come grab some soup and bread.” Cat walked out into the hallway, then locked her office. “You can eat with me in the kitchen.”

  “Cool.” He followed her downstairs, chatting about his book and how much he’d gotten done this week. When they reached the kitchen and settled at the table, he dug into his meal like he hadn’t eaten in a week. He must have sensed her watching because he got a sheepish grin on his face. “You all put out really good food. My mom cooks like this and I haven’t been home in a few years. It’s hard to get the money scraped up for the travel, and the car I brought died a year ago.”

  “What do you do when the dorms close for the session?” Now Cat was concerned. Brodie definitely was a scholarship kid, not one of the moneyed families who typically attended Covington.

  He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “I work for Bernie on the weekends, so he lets me flop in the back room. It gets quiet around three. But I get a lot of writing done on those nights.”

  The kid was always looking for the silver lining. Cat shook her head. Brodie’s financial worries weren’t her problem. But her concern stayed with her long after he’d eaten a third bowl of soup and left to go to the study to write.

  Michael had always kidded her about wanting to bring all the strays home. And she’d kind of done that when the house had been her own. Shauna had moved from California to help her set up the retreat. And Seth stayed here so much that she wondered why he even kept his apartment. She wondered if bringing Brodie in, just when the dorms were closed, was just a wild idea or if she was being led to a decision. She decided to talk to Shauna about it tomorrow. Maybe there was another option than the kid sleeping on a cot in a bar storeroom.

  Cat cleaned up their plates, left the soup warming on the stove for Shauna’s return, and moved into the living room to see if any of the other writers came back to the retreat after dinner. She didn’t have a good hold on how the writing was going, if at all. These four kept their writing, if they were doing any at all, secret and completed away from the house. Tomorrow when they were hiking, she’d try to get a feel for how close each person was to their weekly goal. It was her responsibility as the retreat leader.

  By the time she’d finished the book she’d been reading, the house was still mostly empty. Shauna had come in, ate her dinner in the kitchen, then went straight up to bed. Brodie had emerged from the study, bleary-eyed and tired, and had gone upstairs just after Shauna. Seth and the couples were still out at their respective outings.

  She went upstairs, leaving the role of retreat wrangler on the main floor. After getting ready for bed, she curled up with Chance’s journal. She’d been so caught up with the day-to-day stuff for the retreat, she’d forgotten to finish reading. So far, she hadn’t found anything to report to Uncle Pete. Mostly it was an accounting of his days. Things that had happened at the claim that day. Deer he’d seen wandering through the trees. What he’d eaten and an ongoing shopping list. She figured the stream of consciousness style was part of not seeing anyone for days. And even when he came into town, he hadn’t really made any social connections. Had he been afraid of being found out? Then why had he told Sherry? That was an easy answer. Sherry had recognized him. So he’d had to talk to her to keep her quiet about his location. What had he gotten into so long ago in Germany that it was still following him years later?

  Or, the more likely answer had he not wound up dead and in the morgue, was the guy bat guano crazy?

  She tucked a pillow under her head, turned on the television for a little white noise, and started reading, not noticing when she drifted off to sleep.

  She dreamed of walking through jewelry stores with Seth and Michael. Neither of the men seemed to notice the other. Cat kept running from one to another, looking at the perfect ring, when they turned on her and circled around, chanting over and over, Which one, Cat? Which one will you choose? Which one, Cat?

  She woke up in a cold sweat on top of the covers. The journal lay open beside her. Sometime during the night she must have fallen asleep and into that crazy dream. She could still hear the question. Which one will you choose, Cat?

  She wanted to banish the questions and the memories. She’d chosen once. And it hadn’t been a bad choice. Michael had just been complicated and unwilling to let her into his life. Seth was different. And, according to Sherry, he’d bought her a ring, once upon a time. Which made sense of why he didn’t like to talk about his army days. Then she’d been lured into the professor life . . . and the professor’s bed. And that had been that.

  Rubbing the dream away from her chilled arms, she glanced at the clock. Three a.m. Too early to get up and start the day, but she didn’t think she’d get back to sleep. Maybe if she made some hot cocoa and read for a while, she might start feeling sleepy again. Or at least she’d get the journal read and be able to report her lack of any findings back to Uncle Pete.

  She grabbed the journal and quietly headed downstairs. She didn’t meet anyone on the stairs, not that she expected to. No, normal people were aslee
p in bed at this time, not sneaking downstairs for a late-night snack.

  Letting the water heat for hot chocolate, Cat curled up on one of the chairs and started reading the journal again.

  According to the rumors flying over at the post office this morning and again at the grocery store, the guy Seth’s girl married instead of him has done the dirty with someone else. She’s taken off to greener pastures, California, I hear. It’s funny what people will chat about in a public place. I’m almost invisible to these college types. At least as long as I shower before coming into town. Most everyone in town treats me like those homeless guys with a bucket out for money and a sign declaring their disabled vet status. But I do hear a lot of gossip. More than I heard when I was a clean-cut army type. Or maybe I just listen better now that I’m forced to be out of the world. I’m going to have to keep an eye on this Michael guy. Maybe Seth can reclaim that girl if she ever moves back home.

  The whistle went off on the tea kettle and Cat set the book down. Was this why Chance had Michael’s name circled on the paper in his cabin? Chance had turned himself into an observer of Aspen Hills. A habit that could have been the reason he had been killed. She’d let her uncle deal with that possibility, but she decided to write it down with the page number so he could look at the original document.

  She made her cocoa and, as an afterthought, grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge. She glanced at the Kahlua in the liquor cabinet, but decided adding alcohol may not have the effect she wanted, and layered the whipped cream tall on top of the hot drink.

  Sipping the cocoa, she continued reading. A noise at the back door made her jump. Wildly, she looked for something, anything to defend herself with. She grabbed the basket of cookies off the table and stood by the counter.

  Seth pushed open the door and squinted at her. “Why are you up still?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” She set down the basket. “You’re out late.”

  “That’s the thing about reunions, everyone had a story. About where they are now, and remember when, and of course, Chance was on everyone’s mind. No one seems to know anything about his life after his death. They all told the same story, how he died in a bombing in town. I knew that store had been hit, but I didn’t realize that’s where Chance died. Or didn’t die, I guess.”

 

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