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It seemed I had barely closed my eyes when my phone rang at 6:02 a.m. Who on earth? I answered the call and croaked out a sleepy hello.
“Hey, is Mike there?”
“No, there’s no Mike here.”
“Sorry. Must have the wrong number.” Then dead air.
Thanks a lot.
My mind started racing with all I wanted to get done that day, so I was unable to go back to sleep and catch the thirty minutes I had just been cheated out of. Since I was already up, I would try to get a little work done before meeting Caitlyn at her office.
My mind replayed the events of the previous evening, and I wondered how Gerald was doing. I felt guilty for ever considering him a suspect in Miranda’s murder.
After a quick shower, I downed a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs for breakfast then wired a few pairs of earrings. I loved making those, and they came together so fast.
Since I was meeting Savannah for lunch, I slipped on gray slacks, a hot-pink sweater, pearl stud earrings, and a simple pearl charm necklace before I headed to meet Caitlyn.
When I arrived downtown, the wire frame of the Roseland Christmas tree was under construction, and thanks to a few lookie-loos showing up, only one parking spot remained near the Happy Hometown office. Fortunately, I got it and was soon on my way up to see Caitlyn and help restore order to the plundered office.
When I got to the door, a clipboard with a visitor sign-in sheet was mounted to the wall outside, so I paused to write my name. A response to last night’s rampage, maybe?
I knocked on the door, and before it even opened, “I’m glad you’re here, Emma” came from the other side.
I was sure I had a puzzled look on my face when Caitlyn opened the door. “How’d you know it was me?”
She pointed at a far corner of the upstairs waiting area. “One of those doorbell cameras. The city had it installed early this morning. Mayor’s orders.”
“They don’t waste time, do they? When did he hear about what happened last night?”
She smirked. “Seriously?”
I had to laugh. “What is it they say about small towns? You don’t have to mind your own business, because everyone’s always doing it for you? But I guess it’s nice that the mayor cares what happens to you.”
Caitlyn brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Frankly, I think it’s more that he’s concerned about a liability issue. He said that for the time being, I’m not to work up here without having another board member in the office. I got permission to come in early only because the workers were installing the camera, and I promised them you’d be here at eight.” She glanced at her watch. “And of course you are. Listen, thanks again for coming up here last night. I’m so sorry about everything that happened.”
“Don’t give it another thought. Have you heard an update on Gerald this morning?”
“Mm-hmm. I just got a call from that detective, and he said Gerald got stitches for the gash on his head. He has some broken ribs, too, and he’s going to be in the hospital a few days, but he’s expected to make a full recovery.”
“That’s great news.” I smiled. “Now...” I looked around and sighed.
“Yeah, that was my reaction when I walked in and saw everything.” Caitlyn waved her hand over the files as well as numerous stacks of paper on her desk. “We’ve had quite a few cards and memorial gifts come into the office since Miranda’s death, and I’ve tried to stay on top of the thank-you notes and acknowledgments, but now I can’t tell what’s what.”
“I guess not.” I considered the scene again. “Let’s get everything off the floor first, then I’ll help you figure out how to get it organized and put away.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Caitlyn bobbed her head. “Then I can get back to settling up with everyone from the bazaar.” She blew out a breath. “Keeping up with all the accounting is definitely beyond my skill set, and the mayor’s office is sending someone from the finance department to do an audit before we see about the donation that goes to the foster parent association, paying our vendors, getting the refund for the rental deposit... I never realized how many things Miranda took care of behind the scenes.”
That was just the opening I’d been hoping for.
“I imagine she did a lot of stuff that many of us weren’t aware of.” I scooped up a pile of papers that had landed on a windowsill. “If I recall, she came highly recommended from some downtown development program up in New York, right?”
Caitlyn chewed her lip. “Um, it turned out that she was familiar with the program but was actually hired because of her... event-planning and... networking skills.”
What a crock. Caitlyn was trying really hard not to say something. I just couldn’t figure out what.
“Really? How interesting.” I looked off to the side, hoping Caitlyn would take the bait.
She did. “Why do you ask? Is her background important?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I shrugged. “On one hand, she was a highly acclaimed downtown development staffer, or so I’d heard. But on the other hand, if things were so wonderful up there, why did she move to a small town like Roseland?”
Caitlyn picked up some pieces of a broken coffee mug and dropped them into a big black plastic bag. “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“So you don’t remember where Miranda last worked?”
She shook her head. “But I imagine her file’s somewhere in this office.” She gave me a wry grin. “And right now, your guess is as good as mine about where that file is.”
“Why don’t you take that side of the office”—I pointed her way—“and I’ll gather the papers and files over here. I’ve always liked to divide and conquer.”
“Sounds good.”
Caitlyn started on the side of the office nearest the hallway, and I worked on the opposite side, where the windows faced the street.
I didn’t pay close attention to the papers and files I picked up, but many of them seemed to pertain to businesses submitting bids for catering, office supplies, consulting, and other expenses the program had on a regular basis. I recognized a few of the papers as applications for exhibitor spots at the Christmas bazaar, including mine. Out of curiosity, I scanned my application, and someone—Miranda, I imagined—had written the day and time it came in on the upper right corner of the page.
After two tedious hours of cleanup then sorting the folders, we had made excellent progress and were nearly done. One of the last folders I came across was marked Personnel, and it appeared to have most of its contents intact. I held it up and got Caitlyn’s attention. “Is it okay if I look at this?”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
I peeked inside, and there was Miranda’s résumé, which was formatted just like the copy I had received the previous day. This résumé, however, said that Miranda Hargrove’s last job was with Happy Hometown in Rochester, which was apparently untrue. Prior to that, the résumé claimed, she’d worked as an events planner for five years. She had included a lot of details about her high school and college achievements as well.
I wondered whether anyone had ever bothered to contact the references she’d listed on the next page or if they were legitimate. I thought of asking Caitlyn to call them but didn’t see the point. Miranda had obviously been afraid she wouldn’t get the job in Roseland if they knew she didn’t have experience in downtown development, and she might have been concerned about her DUI showing up as well.
When I looked up, Caitlyn was studying my face. “Anything of interest?”
“Not really.” But on a hunch, I added, “And I’m assuming you already knew about that DUI in Miranda’s past, didn’t you?”
Caitlyn looked down. “Yes.”
That was as good a time as any to surprise her with the questions I’d wanted to ask all morning. “Let me just be up front with you, Caitlyn. I understand you and Miranda argued quite a bit. Is that true?”
I’d expected Caitlyn to squirm. Instead, she looked me straight in the eyes. “Yes, we did. In fact, we had quite a few arguments before she—” She pursed her lips. “Before the bazaar.”
“What did you argue about?”
Caitlyn teared up, and I wondered whether I had crossed a line. Sheesh. Our conversation wasn’t going anywhere if I upset her. Maybe Detective Shelton’s right that I really ought to leave the investigating to the professionals.
“If that’s too emotional to talk about...” I wanted to give her the opportunity to clam up if she wasn’t prepared to go on.
“No, it’s okay.” Caitlyn reached across her desk and pulled a tissue from a box. She blew her nose then cleared her throat. “Miranda and I had quite a few run-ins in the weeks before she died. I thought she offended way too many people with her efforts to turn this year’s bazaar into some regional spectacular.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t wrong to want to raise the profile of the show, was it?”
She shook her head and fiddled with the collar on her blouse. “But it was wrong to tick off half the town, people who’ve worked so hard over the years to make the show the success it’s always been.”
I leaned forward. “What about the registration for Harriet Harris’s daughter? How’d that get so bungled?”
“Truthfully, I expected some trouble with Mrs. Harris after Miranda tossed Holly’s application into the trash and told me not to even call to say we didn’t receive it in time.”
“Whew. Bad move on her part,” I agreed.
Caitlyn nodded. “Mrs. Harris was one of the teachers when I was in elementary school, and I know she can be an old battle-ax, but she still has a lot of influence in Roseland. It’s not smart to get on her bad side. Then came the controversy with the Humane Society where—”
“The day of the show, you mean?”
She shook her head. “No, during the registration period. Gerald got his application in early, just like always. For some reason, Miranda decided we shouldn’t have pets at an arts-and-crafts bazaar. She said pets were neither arts nor crafts and that it was ridiculous that they’d ever been included in the first place.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess. She wasn’t a pet lover, was she?”
“How’d you know?” Caitlyn smiled tentatively. “The one time I came into the office to pick up my check before vacation and had Mitzi, my Yorkie, in my arms, Miranda nearly hurt herself getting to the threshold, telling me I couldn’t bring ‘a wild animal’ into the office.”
I laughed. “A Yorkie? A wild animal?”
My regard for Miranda, God rest her soul, was not improving with the new information.
Caitlyn shrugged. “Some people are like that. Their loss, right?”
I nodded. Maybe Miranda would have been a nicer person if she’d had a pet. “So did she ever actually tell the Humane Society they couldn’t participate?”
“She tried. After Gerald and the Humane Society got word that they couldn’t be in the bazaar, he went straight to their board and instigated an email-writing campaign demanding that Miranda reconsider.”
“And she did, obviously.”
“Oh yeah.” Caitlyn’s expression turned serious. “Some of the society’s most influential board members were so upset that they threatened to boycott the show and run newspaper ads claiming that the Happy Hometown program was hostile to the entire Roseland pet population.”
I frowned. “Oh no.” One thing I remembered from my newspaper days was that ticking off pet owners was never, ever a good idea.
“So”—Caitlyn held up her hands—“that was probably the biggest blowup the two of us had, the time we argued the most, and she said to let the Humane Society run their ads if they wanted to. I finally convinced her that Happy Hometown would be ridiculed if things turned nasty. In fact, when I mentioned that the Atlanta TV stations might pick up on it and come up here to investigate, she changed her tune pretty quickly.”
How intriguing. “Why do you think that was?”
“She told me she was uncomfortable with the idea of some reporter in a TV news van showing up and sticking a microphone in her face.”
I’ll just bet she was.
“I thought it was odd, too, because Miranda always seemed to like being the center of attention,” Caitlyn said. “But then I learned about that DUI, and I decided that was what she didn’t want people to find out.”
“Who told you about that?”
Caitlyn clammed up. “I’m... I’m really not supposed to say.”
Okay, then. But no wonder Miranda had felt threatened by the idea of Atlanta media attention. If she became the subject of a local controversy, some hard-nosed reporter might be tempted to look into her background and spot a few troubling items on her résumé.
I had another question for Caitlyn. “I know what you thought of Miranda professionally, but personally, what did you think of her? Did you ever like her?”
Caitlyn was quiet for a moment. “Honestly? I felt sorry for her. She seemed to be trying so hard to prove something, and I knew that wasn’t going to turn out well. I mean, I certainly never dreamed she’d get killed. But I also knew that she had already rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. A lot of people.”
It was time to go big or go home. “So you didn’t kill her, then?”
Caitlyn’s mouth flew open. “No, of course not!”
“I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.”
The desk phone rang, startling me.
Caitlyn pointed at the phone. “Mind if I get this? It seems people are expecting work to go on as usual, and—”
“I’ve got to run anyway, so please, take your call.”
While Caitlyn looked hurt about what I’d just asked her, she was still professional enough to motion to the stack of folders. “And thanks for that. I appreciate the help.”
I opened the door of the Happy Hometown office and headed down before passing the library director on the stairs. Guess she gets to babysit for a while. When I got downstairs and exited to the street, a chill in the air made me wrap my trench coat tighter around myself.
With a sigh of resignation, I fished the mysterious résumé from my purse and headed to the Roseland Police Department. Considering I’d seen him only twelve hours ago, I hoped the person I was going to see wouldn’t lock me up when he saw me again.