I whirled, gripped Sue by the shoulders, and gave her a shake. “Call the police,” I said again. When she continued screaming, I shook her harder. “Now!”
As she dashed from the room, I squared my shoulders and studied the scene with a clinical detachment. I focused on what I had learned in my college class dealing with blood spatter. Yes, I might drift off to la-la land on a regular basis, but I could clearly see that Roy hadn’t killed himself. He was left-handed for one, and the gun hung from his right hand. And the angle of the spatter was all wrong. It was even on the wrong wall. Someone had killed my former boss and tried to stage it to look like a suicide.
I removed my phone from my pocket and started snapping pictures, shoving aside my grief at Roy’s death. I’d deal with that emotion later. Right now I needed to prove to myself I have what it takes to be a forensic scientist.
When sirens wailed to a stop outside the building, I slid my phone back into my pocket, took one last look at a good man, and then joined Sue by the front desk. I swallowed back tears and waited to be questioned.
Two police officers headed to Roy’s office after I pointed, and another kept Sue in the reception area while telling me to find a different room and wait there. I went to the conference room and stared at the scones still sitting on the sideboard. I’d never deliver them here again.
“I’d like to ask you some questions, ma’am.” A middle-aged officer, ROGEN, his badge said, took a seat across from me. “Name first.”
“Ashley Lawrence. I work at Tea by the Sea.”
“You found the body?”
I nodded. “I found it strange that Roy wasn’t waiting for his scones.” My gaze fell on the bag again. “I deliver them every day by four.”
“How well did you know the deceased?” His pen scratched across the surface of his notepad.
“I used to be the receptionist here.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“Have you noticed anything different about Mr. Miller lately? Has he been depressed, out of sorts?”
“No, but I haven’t worked here in several months. I only see him when I deliver his scones. Who wouldn’t be happy knowing they were going to bite into one of those?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He sat back in his chair, spearing me with his glare.
After several seconds of silence, I blurted out, “He didn’t kill himself.”
“Who said he did?” Officer Rogen folded his hands on the tabletop. “What makes you sure it wasn’t suicide?”
“The blood spatter, and he’s left-handed.”
“You’re observant.”
“I’m taking classes at the college.”
“Let’s assume you’re right. Did Mr. Miller have any enemies?”
I shrugged. “Not that I know of. Sue said he had a meeting planned with some clients, but I don’t know who they were.”
“We’ll get that information from her.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “The receptionist said someone locked her in the storage room, and that you were the one to let her out. Were you the only one here?” He narrowed his eyes.
I frowned. “Are you insinuating I locked her up so I could kill Roy?” Seriously? Did I look like I could murder someone? “What would be my motive?”
“I’m not insinuating anything.”
It appeared the questions had stopped, and the officer was just fishing for information. He couldn’t really consider me a suspect, could he?
After several tense minutes, he stood and handed me a business card. “If you think of anything that will help our investigation, please call me. Don’t leave town, Miss Lawrence.”
I left the conference room. Sue was no longer at her desk, and crime scene tape fluttered in front of the building. It was then that I realized I’d left Brad almost two hours ago.
I darted back to the shop.
Brad met me at the door. “What happened? I started to go looking for you when I saw the police cars. Are you all right?”
“No.” Tears poured down my cheeks. “Roy Miller has been murdered.” I stepped into his open arms and sobbed.
“Come on. You need some tea.” He patted my back, wiped my tears, and led me inside the shop. “Sit. I’ll explain to your boss what’s happened.”
“Thank you.” I folded my arms on top of the books and rested my head on them. Sadness over Roy’s death couldn’t quite mask the thought that the authorities listed me as a suspect.
“They always do,” Brad said when I told him of the officer questioning me. “You found him, after all.”
I turned my teacup around and around in my hands. Since I was now off the clock, I should focus on the professor’s assignment. Instead, I couldn’t stop thinking about blood spatter. Roy had been facing the back wall when I entered the room. The spatter had been on the wall he faced. “Someone turned him around. They didn’t want his death to be noticed immediately when someone entered the room.”
“Maybe he wanted time to get away.” Brad shook his head and shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Forget these books.” I set down my cup. “Let’s make solving Roy’s murder our assignment.”
“No way.” He frowned. “That would be interfering with a police investigation, which is against the law.”
“We’ll just ask some questions, clear my name, that sort of thing.” I grinned. “It’ll be justice for Roy, and our assignment won’t be like anyone else’s.” If we found Roy’s killer, the professor would have to stop looking at me as if I were an empty-headed Barbie doll. “At least think about it.”
“I don’t need to. I say no.”
“Time to close up,” Georgina called. “Can you still work in the morning, Ashley? I’ll understand if you can’t.”
“I’ll be here.” Asking questions and investigating on my own.
“You’re going to do this anyway, aren’t you?” Brad asked once we stepped outside.
“Yes.” I peered up at him. “I have to.”
“Why? You’re going to get into trouble, or worse, end up like Roy Miller. I’m sure you aren’t the only suspect. What about the receptionist?”
“Locked up, remember?” I arched a brow. “I need to find out who he was going to meet with and go from there.”
“The building will be off-limits for a while.”
“I’ll contact Sue at home.”
He crossed his arms. “Do you know where she lives?”
“No, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out.” I headed for my car. “Let’s meet back here tomorrow when you get off work.”
“See you at six.”
I could feel his gaze on my back, boring holes into me, as I climbed into the driver’s seat of my car. While I really wanted him to work with me on finding out who killed Roy, I’d do it by myself if I had to. It would be double work, solving a real case and studying one from the past, plus my other classes and work. I sighed, seeing a lot of late nights in my future.
On my way home, I drove slowly past Miller Inc. My cell phone seemed to burn through my pocket. I’d wanted to show the photos to Brad, but since he didn’t want to get involved, I’d held back. Besides, I needed to upload them onto my computer and print them out.
Half an hour later, I had several eight-and-a-half-by-eleven-inch photos spread across my kitchen table and a cup of coffee close at hand. Time to become detached again and find some clues. I pulled a notepad from my schoolbag and took notes: “Staged suicide. Chair turned to face the wall.”
I tapped the pencil against my teeth. If Roy had a meeting scheduled, where were the people he was supposed to meet with? They should have arrived shortly after I did. I jotted down my question.
Then I searched for Sue’s phone number online. No luck, but I did find her social media profile and left a private message there. Hopefully she wouldn’t all of a sudden become close-lipped about today’s events.
My computer dinged almost instantly.
THE POLICE SAID YOU MIGHT HAVE LOCKED ME UP AND KILLED ROY.
ARE YOU SERIOUS? HE WAS MY FRIEND. WHO WAS HE MEETING WITH?
WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU?
BECAUSE I WANT TO FIND OUT WHO KILLED HIM.
OH.
I stared at the blinking cursor for a few minutes.
HELLO?
I HAD TO LOOK IT UP IN MY BOOK.
YOU TOOK THE APPOINTMENT BOOK? Good girl.
OF COURSE. IT’S MINE. WHY WOULD THE POLICE WANT SOMETHING BRIGHT PINK WITH YELLOW FLOWERS? ROY WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET WITH A MR. LARRY JENKINS AND A MR. JOE OLSON FROM SEA SIDE CONSTRUCTION.
THANKS!
I clicked off, hoping she didn’t get in trouble once the authorities realized she’d removed something that could be potential evidence from the office.
Brad said he worked construction. I found his phone number in the pages of my textbook and called.
“Hello?” From the grogginess in his voice, I could tell I’d awakened him.
I glanced at the clock. Midnight already? “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’m awake now. What’s up?”
“Are you familiar with Sea Side Construction?”
“Yes, I work for them. I’m supervisor of the day crew. Why?”
“Because Roy was supposed to meet with a Mr. Jenkins and a Mr. Olson this afternoon, but they never showed.”
“That’s weird.”
“Why?”
“Because they left this afternoon for an out-of-town meeting.”
“Maybe they forgot they had one scheduled with Roy?” Or they locked Sue in the closet and killed her boss before leaving town. My unspoken thought hung in the air. I wanted to ask Brad to ask some questions around work, but his reluctance to help me put me in an uncomfortable position. I also couldn’t very well go to Sea Side Construction and start asking random questions on my own. “Who are they?”
“Co-owners.” He sighed. “You’ve been up half the night on this case, haven’t you?”
“Yes. I took photos of the crime scene, and I’ve been studying them.”
“You took photos before the police arrived?”
“I couldn’t do it after they got there, now could I?”
“You’re going to end up in jail, Ashley.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m a suspect, Brad. You have no idea how that feels.” I coughed to hide the fact that tears were gathering in my throat.
“Maybe they’ll rule it a suicide.”
“But it’s clear it was murder. You should see the photos.” I swiped my arm across my eyes. “I need your help, Brad. I’ll bring them to the tea shoppe tomorrow.”
“You can’t flash them around in public.” He sighed. “I’ll come by your place instead. What’s your address?”
I told him then hung up. Once he saw these pictures, he wouldn’t be able not to help me. Not a good man like Brad Overson.
I left my notes and the photos on the table and carried my mug to the sink. Romeo, my tuxedo cat, decided to complain about the late hour by meowing at the top of his lungs. I scooped him up and carried him to the bedroom. “Sorry, buddy, Mama’s been a little busy this evening.” I’d be busy for many more to come.
I set the cat on the bed, changed into my pajamas, then climbed under a thin sheet. Summer evenings in Maine were still sometimes cool enough for a light covering. I lay in bed, the curtains at my window fluttering in a slight breeze, and closed my eyes, only to snap them open a few seconds later.
Sleep wasn’t going to come easy with visions of Roy floating through my brain. The coffee hadn’t helped either. Lord, help me sleep. Oh, I should have asked You before racing ahead with this case. Sorry about that. Could You please save me from myself?
I continued to pray for guidance, my gaze focused on the butterfly-shaped nightlight on my nightstand, until sleep overtook me.