Brad showed up at my apartment at exactly 6:00 p.m. I opened the door and grinned. “Punctual.”
“Always.” He returned my smile. “The professor wasn’t happy when you didn’t answer roll call.”
I shrugged. “He’ll change his mind when I solve Roy’s murder.” I stepped aside to let him in. “Are you hungry? I made spaghetti.”
“Starving.” He glanced around my small apartment. “You’re still determined to get involved?”
“Yes. Take a look at the photos on the table while I serve dinner.” Fully convinced he’d change his mind about helping me, I pulled two plates from the cupboard and removed the garlic bread from the oven. “Clear a spot.”
He moved the printed sheets to one side, and I set his plate in front of him. “Iced tea okay?”
“Perfect.” He straightened in his chair. “Okay, you win. I’ll help you if only to keep you from getting yourself hurt. These photos convince me. You’ve a good eye when taking photographs at a crime scene.”
Answer to last night’s prayer. “Thank you.” I sat down across from him. “First step … find out about your bosses’ trip.”
He nodded. “I’ll have to think of a subtle way to bring up the subject. I can’t blurt out that they didn’t show up to their appointment with Miller. They’d wonder how I knew that.”
“I’m going to question Sue some more.” I sprinkled a liberal amount of parmesan cheese over my pasta. You can never have too much cheese.
“Be careful, please. I’m still not crazy about us getting involved.”
I wanted to clap. “We’ll ace this assignment.”
“If we don’t get ourselves killed or arrested.”
“Are you always gonna be a Debbie Downer?” Solving the crime would be way more fun if he got a little excited.
Brad tilted his head then laughed. “I promise to be more upbeat if you promise that if things get too dangerous, we back off.”
“Agreed.” I thrust my hand across the table.
After we ate and did the dishes, we bent over the photographs again. Brad studied one after the other more thoroughly than he had before we ate. “I agree Roy was murdered. I also agree someone turned his chair around. Remorse?”
“Maybe. Guilt could have taken over, and they didn’t want his lifeless eyes watching them leave.” I shuddered.
“Did you touch anything in his office?” Brad raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t think so. It’s been months since I worked there, so I doubt my fingerprints would still be on anything.”
“Let’s check the dumpster in back of the shop. Maybe we’ll get lucky with a stupid killer. Garbage pickup isn’t until tomorrow. The police probably already looked, but they might have missed something. Do you have gloves?”
I went to my linen closet and pulled out some rubber gloves I used for washing dishes and general cleaning. I handed him a pair. “These should fit you.”
“Of course you’d have flowered gloves.” He frowned. “These look like something housewives wore in the fifties.”
“If a person is cleaning, they might as well look good doing it.” I grabbed the yellow ones with ducks on them from the kitchen sink. “Fashion never goes out of style.”
Brad drove and then parked half a block from where crime scene tape still hung in front of Miller Inc. The dumpster behind the building sat free of tape, which I thought strange. The setting sun cast the area in creepy shadows, and I shivered.
“Are you cold?” Brad asked.
“No, just spooked. Why isn’t there tape back here like there is in front?”
“Maybe they actually did rule it a suicide.” He clicked on a flashlight and handed me one.
If the police weren’t going to treat Roy’s death as a homicide, then that was one more reason for us to investigate. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Sea Side, was there? At least not enough for them to rush an investigation.
I pressed the button on my flashlight and moved slowly around the alley. Asphalt didn’t retain footprints. If there was a clue, it would have to jump out at me. “I don’t see anything.”
“You’ll have to go diving.”
“What?” My eyes widened. “Eew. Why don’t you get in the dumpster?”
“Can you lift me?”
“Well, no. Can’t you climb?”
“Why would I, when I can give you a boost? You probably don’t weigh more than a hundred and fifteen pounds.” His eyes twinkled in the light of the rising moon. “Scared?”
“No.” I stepped into his cupped hands. “Don’t throw me.”
He didn’t, but rather hefted and then tossed. I landed on a soft black bag, my hand in something squishy. The smell was enough to make me gag. “Hand me my light.” I swallowed back nausea and breathed through my mouth.
“There’s something dripping from your fingers.”
“No doubt.” I wrapped my gooey hand around the flashlight and aimed it around the inside of the full dumpster. If I wanted to find anything worth finding, I’d have to start digging, and I needed to use both hands. “You’ll have to shine your light in, Brad.”
I turned my light off and slid it into my pocket as Brad’s light illuminated the dumpster. Thank goodness I wore gloves, because digging was gross. I tore through bags of soggy food, a couple of soiled diapers, and two bags containing papers. Those I tossed out of the dumpster to dig through later. “A couple of those have sheets with Miller Inc. on them.”
“I’ll set them aside.”
“I’m ready to get out now.” I held up my hands.
Brad gripped my hands and dragged me over the lip of the dumpster. I fell into his arms, breathless. Whether from the drag, or being pressed against him, I wasn’t quite sure. I stared through the gloom into his eyes. “Uh, thanks for not dropping me,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “My pleasure. Although you do emit a certain unpleasant odor, you feel good.” His arms tightened around me.
I slapped his shoulder. Way for a guy to spoil the mood. But I could smell myself, and it definitely wasn’t pleasant. I stepped away. “Do you want to take these bags back to my apartment or go through them here?”
A car stopped at the end of the alley and turned off its lights, its engine idling.
Brad grabbed a bag. “Apartment. We’re too easily seen out here.”
I grabbed the other bag and followed him between two buildings back to his car. The other vehicle pulled from the alley as we drove away. “Is that car following us?”
“Easy way to find out.” Brad pulled into a drive-thru restaurant. “Want something to drink?”
“Yes, as long as I don’t have to get out and have anyone see me smeared with who knows what. Diet Coke, please.” I plucked my sticky shirt away from my body and desperately craved a shower.
The other car drove past. So much for paranoia.
Drinks in hand, we returned to my apartment. I made a beeline for the shower while Brad sorted through the garbage bags for anything of interest. A few minutes later, wet hair hanging down my back, I joined him feeling refreshed and odor-free.
“Find anything?” I pulled a stack of papers toward myself.
“Not yet, but I’ve been focusing on looking for something about Sea Side Construction. Maybe you could focus on something else.” He lifted his drink to his mouth.
My gaze landed on his lips. What would it have felt like if he’d kissed me back there in the alley? I was an idiot for even considering such a thing when I’d stunk to high heaven, but I was a dreamer after all.
Brad stared at me. “What?”
“Nothing.” My face heated, and I turned my attention to the printed papers in front of me. As I found names and mentions of meetings, I wrote them on the notepad next to me. By the time my eyes grew gritty, I had quite the list.
I straightened and blinked away the tiredness. “Find anything?”
“Not a thing. Is the receptionist sure my bosses had a meeting with hers?” Brad rubbed both hands down his face. “I’m done for the night. See you at class in the morning?”
I nodded. “Is Professor Lyons going to want to know which case our assignment is based on?”
“Most likely. Just pick something. We’ll tell him we changed it once this is over. I don’t think we should tell him what we’re really working on. The fewer people who know, the better.”
Professor Lyons glanced down at the day’s assignment then back at me. “At least you were working while you were missing class. This case has been unsolved for twenty years. Do you really think you can solve it?”
I shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. You didn’t say we actually had to solve the case, just give our input on what could have been done differently. With today’s achievements in forensic science and DNA—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Okay.”
If I were to look up rude in the dictionary, I felt certain I’d see his picture. Biting my tongue to prevent from saying what I thought, I returned to my seat. “He’s impossible,” I whispered to Brad.
“Only a few more weeks, and you’ll be in another class.” He reached over and patted my hand.
I tried to concentrate on the rest of the class, I really did, but all I wanted to do was start working my way down the list of names I’d made last night. I could make some calls after work, but that seemed so far away.
Instead, I forced myself to focus on today’s lesson of finding out a perpetrator by fingerprints, hair samples, and skin flakes. I doubted I could use any of that in solving Roy’s murder. I didn’t have the tools. All I had was a nosiness and a drive for justice. Hopefully that would be enough.
After class I agreed to have Brad over again at six and rushed to work. The day filled with more than the usual deliveries, and I soon found myself running behind. I ducked into the corner drugstore to deliver pastries to the pharmacist then barged back outside, running smack into someone.
“Careful.” Sue patted her teased-up hair. “You almost knocked me down.”
“You’re just the person I wanted to see.” I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the side of the building. “Are you sure Roy was supposed to meet with Sea Side Construction? The owners left town yesterday afternoon.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Of course I’m sure. I told you, it’s in my book.” She pulled the gaudy-colored appointment book from her purse and opened it. “See? I even wrote it in ink. It isn’t like Roy announced his appointments on the street corner.”
Sure enough. There it was. “Is that the only place you would have made note of it? Would Roy have jotted it down somewhere himself?”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “His desk calendar maybe, but that’s taped off.” Her narrowed eyes disappeared under the thick lashes she wore. “Why are you questioning me?”
“I told you, I want to find out who killed Roy. Have you spoken to the police again?”
“I’m headed there now, in fact. It occurred to them that I might have an appointment book.” She slid it back into her purse. “They aren’t as stupid as you think.”
If they wanted the book, they weren’t considering his death a suicide. That was good news.
She smirked at me. “Don’t be surprised if they call you in for more questions, since you found him.”
“You were the last to see him alive.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You aren’t a very nice person, Ashley.” She lifted her nose in the air and marched off on four-inch heels the color of a pumpkin.
My phone rang on my way back to the shop. “Hello?”
“Ms. Lawrence, this is Officer Rogen. We’d like you to come to the precinct for more questions.”
I closed my eyes. “When? Now? I’m working.”
“As soon as possible.” Click.
I sighed and went to tell Georgina I’d have to take the last hour of work off. Then I sent a text to Brad, telling him I might be late meeting him later and why.
CHIN UP, he replied. YOU’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED. I’LL BRING CHINESE.
I looked forward to another evening spent with Brad as I headed for the police station.