Having a substitute teach Professor Lyons’s class the next day made the time pass faster and more pleasantly without his constant harassing of me. The former police detective told us to work on our semifinal projects and then basically ignored us the rest of the period.
Brad pulled our table and chairs to a far corner of the room. “We definitely don’t want anyone to overhear what we’re talking about.” He reached over and closed the blinds against the bright summer sun. “Let’s make a plan for getting in and out of Miller’s office without getting caught.”
I tapped my pencil against the tabletop until Brad put his hand over mine. “Sorry. I fidget when I’m thinking.” His calloused hand cupped mine as if it were made to be there. “Sue has a key. I intend to go in, snap some more photos, and get out. Five minutes tops.” Which, considering I had to be at work, was still pushing me getting to the tea shoppe on time.
“That sounds like a very good plan.” He grinned and removed his hand. “I’ll stand outside and make a bobwhite whistle if I see anyone. That means you hide.”
“Where will you go if someone comes?”
“I’ll shove my hands in my pockets and nonchalantly stroll away. No one knows we’re working together, so they won’t think anything if they see me.”
Right. Good point. The police didn’t seem to be looking at anyone but me. At least, if they did have another suspect, Rogen wasn’t saying anything to me. Of course he didn’t have to, but it definitely spurred me on to investigate in order to clear my name.
Brad and I were the first out the door when class dismissed. Since we both had separate places to go after I snuck into Millers, Inc., we drove separately. I parked in front of Tea by the Sea and walked to Millers after letting Georgina know I had an errand to run.
The sun hung high overhead. It was hot for a Maine summer and left me hoping the air conditioner was on in Miller’s building. If cleaners hadn’t been there yet, I’d be in for a nasty surprise as soon as I stepped into the office.
“I’m not going in,” Sue said as she unlocked the door. No crime scene tape fluttered in front of the building. “I’m not taking the chance of encountering any ghosts.”
I met Brad’s amused glance over her head. “I’ll be quick.” Having Sue outside in plain sight wasn’t ideal. If Rogen drove by, he’d definitely know something was up. I’m pretty sure he’d ordered her to stay away the same as he had me.
Ugh. No air-conditioning. The odor of death slapped me in the face.
Doing my best not to gag, I breathed through my mouth and entered Miller’s dark office. I turned on the light, relieved to see his desk calendar in place. I snapped a photo of the current top page. Definitely looked like the name Connor had been partially erased.
I stepped back and studied the rest of the room. Could there be something else I missed?
I dropped to my knees, hoping a different perspective would reveal something. A wadded candy bar wrapper under the desk, a penny showing tails, and little else. The trash can had been emptied.
I stood behind the desk and stared at the door. Whose face had Roy seen last, friend or foe? From that vantage point, I snapped more photos. A red and green plaid throw pillow sat on the leather sofa against the far wall. I knew at one time there had been a matching set of pillows. Where was the other one, and was its absence a clue?
The picture above the sofa hung crooked. I pulled a tissue from a box on the desk and moved the landscape, revealing an unlocked safe. Had Roy been retrieving something when his killer arrived? I opened the safe the rest of the way and frowned. Empty.
I stepped back and continued my study. Come on, Roy. What was I supposed to see?
A bobwhite sounded from outside. Time was up.
A shadow moved past the office door. I ducked behind the sofa, my heart in my throat. A door toward the back of the building slammed. Whoever was in the building with me wasn’t concerned about silence.
I moved slowly toward the door and peered out the large front window. No sign of Brad or Sue, but a squad car cruised slowly past. I’d have to go out the back. I stepped out of Roy’s office and pulled the door closed as quietly as possible.
Staying low and close to the walls, I skirted past the storage room. The door hung open, light off, no sign of anyone inside. Same with the restrooms. Freedom loomed just past that.
The back door opened. I jumped into the women’s room and hid behind the door, peering through the crack. Two people in white jumpsuits and masks and carrying cleaning supplies moved past me. I’d revisited the scene just in time. When they headed past the storage room, I darted out the back door. I stopped so suddenly my feet slid on loose gravel. Poking out from under the dumpster was the missing pillow.
Not seeing anyone lurking about, I grabbed the pillow then sprinted around the building and headed for work. My heart beat so hard the front of my shirt moved with each pounding. I tossed the contraband into my trunk to evaluate later.
My cell phone vibrated with a text from Brad. SORRY. 2 POLICE CARS CAME, THEN CLEANING VAN. DID YOU MAKE IT OUT OK?”
I replied, ALL OK. AT WORK.
GOOD. I’LL BE BY YOUR PLACE AFTER WORK. STAY SAFE.
Georgina glanced up when I entered the shop. “Just in time to deliver to the police station.”
I groaned. That was the last place I wanted to be. I grabbed the bag of goodies and two carafes sitting next to the bag. “They ordered the whole shebang.”
“Yep. Officer Rogen said they’re expecting a long night.”
I set the delivery in the back seat of my car and drove carefully to the police station. With my hands full, carrying the ordered items from the car to the building, I struggled to open the door. The receptionist spotted my trouble and came to help.
“They’ll want those in the conference room. Follow me.” She led me into a nearby room, set the bag on the oval oak table, then left to answer a ringing telephone.
I gratefully set the two heavy carafes on the sideboard. As I turned to leave, I caught sight of the photo from my driver’s license hanging on a whiteboard. “Wow. The case board,” I whispered. I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then stood in front of the six-foot wall of clues.
Under my name was written, “No alibi” and “No motive.” Next to Sue’s was, “Locked in closet.” No other photos of suspects hung on the board, but there were pictures of the crime scene. The ones I took were every bit as good as these, giving me a measure of pride in my abilities.
I moved down the board, reading the notes. The police didn’t have much more than I did. It was quite obvious they needed whatever help I could give.
“Get away from there.”
I squealed and whirled and found myself staring into the stern face of Rogen. “I brought your delivery.”
“And started snooping.” He narrowed his eyes. “See enough?”
“Roy Miller sold insurance to corporations in Sea Side and nearby cities. Maybe you should start asking questions of those he had meetings with.” I flashed a grin at his expression of surprise and brushed past him. “If you don’t want people seeing your case board, turn it toward the wall when you aren’t in the room.”
Score one for Ashley.
As I returned to the shop, I wondered who I could ask about someone named Connor. I sent a quick text to Sue, praying she wouldn’t rat me out, but didn’t receive an answer. I drove by Miller’s Inc. and noticed the cleaning van was gone, but another one had taken its place. Very odd. Why would two cleaning services be needed for a one-room crime scene?
When Brad arrived at the house, I blurted, “What was the name on the cleaning van that showed up today?”
“Hello to you too.” He grinned. “Cleaning Groupies. Why?”
“Because another one was there after that. The name on the side of the van was Keeping it Clean.”
He frowned. “Why another one?”
I typed both names into my computer. “Only one is real: Keeping it Clean.” I had a phone call to make. I dialed the number to the legitimate cleaning service.
“Hello, I was the receptionist at Miller Inc.,” I told the woman who answered. “I’d like to thank you for your services today.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, “but we didn’t do much. The room was already cleaned.”
“Oh, someone else must have called another company. I’m sure someone will be in touch with you regarding the mix-up.” After saying goodbye, I hung up. “The fake cleaners took care of the scene.”
“Removing all evidence before the real ones showed.” Brad handed me a bag from a local burger joint. “I’m going to be as big as a house if we keep eating fast food and takeout.”
“I’ll cook again tomorrow.” I sat at the table and sent the day’s photos to my email to be printed. “Were you able to check around your job?”
He sighed. “No. The receptionist worked through lunch so she could leave early. By the time she left, I was out on a job. I’m not much help, am I?”
“You’ll get an opportunity.” I smiled to reassure him. “Thinking through with me what little we dig up is a tremendous help.” Our assignment was due in three weeks. “We need to make copies of all this so you have a set to go over when the mood strikes you.”
“That’s a great idea.” He glanced at my printer in the corner. “I’ll do it before I leave tonight.”
I bit into my burger. “Wow. Delicious.”
“My favorite joint.” Brad popped a french fry into his mouth. As if reading my mind, he said, “We should probably put what we do know, the events that have happened, into some sort of a report, adding to it as we go. Then, if the case is still open when our project is due, all we have to do is say what we would have done with more information.”
I nodded. “See, you’re always thinking.” I tapped my temple, smearing ketchup on my face. I stared at my fingers. The resemblance to the blood on Roy’s face almost made me lose my appetite. I swiped at my fingers and then my temple with a napkin.
“Let me.” Brad took the napkin and leaned close.
I breathed deep of a woodsy pine scent and sawdust as he dabbed away the ketchup. “Thanks.” Face heated, I pulled back, our gazes locking.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but smiled instead and returned to eating. “So, we need to find out who Connor is.”
“A first name, maybe?” I arched a brow. “Although none of the names on my list have that for a first name or a last name.”
“Personal friend of Miller’s?”
I shrugged. “Must be.” I wracked my brain to remember who his friends were. “We can ask around at the funeral this weekend. The killer will be there.”
“How do you know?” He tilted his head.
“The killer always attends the funeral of his victim.”
“Television again?”
I laughed. “This, I got from a book.” I snapped my fingers. “The pillow.” I rushed outside and grabbed it from the trunk. I picked up the day’s paper on my way back to the apartment.
I tossed the pillow to Brad and explained why I’d taken it. “There’s a hole,” I said.
“From a bullet.”
I nodded. “Someone used this pillow to muffle the gunshot. That’s why Sue didn’t hear anything when she was in the supply closet.”
Brad locked gazes with me. “Why didn’t we see it during our dumpster dive?”
“I imagine the cleaning crew had instructions to dispose of it.”
I opened the newspaper to the obituaries. Poor Roy. It didn’t say anything about leaving behind family.