"I'm going take the money that's in the safe to the bank," I said to Wendy as we were standing in the front of Petal Pushers about eleven a.m. Friday morning. While most people paid with credit or debit cards, some people still paid in cash, and I needed go to the bank once or twice a week.
"Are you sure you don’t want me to go?" Wendy asked.
"I’ll go, as long as you’re okay with watching Bella and Topknot for me while I’m gone. I’ll even stop in at Betty's on the way back and bring us back lattes."
“Of course I’ll watch those two angels, and I won’t turn down a latte. If she still has the brown sugar latte, I’ll take that one. If not, then vanilla.”
"Sure thing. I'll be back in a little bit," I said. I looked behind the counter at the dog bed Bella often snoozed on with Topknot tucked up next to her. Today was no different. “You two behave while I’m gone,” I called out to them, and neither of them so much as opened an eye.
I headed to the back and hung up my apron before I got the money out of the safe and counted it, filled out the deposit slip, and put it in the bank bag. Once that was done, I grabbed my car keys and went outside. It was windy and there was a chill in the air. I loved fall—the crisp air and the beautiful color of the trees—but I hated seeing summer and unfortunately fall make way to winter, since I wasn't a huge fan of winter.
I rarely went to the bank. Usually, it was Wendy or Cynthia, but I had found out Nikki, the PTA president who didn’t like Susan, was a bank teller. I thought maybe I could kill two birds with one stone and make a deposit while at the same time ask her about Susan.
As I walked into the bank, I looked to see what tellers were on duty. I had pulled up a picture of Nikki on social media, so after a second of looking I was able to figure out which one she was. She was younger than me, probably early 30s, in a smart blue suit and her brown hair in a French twist.
As I approached her, I wondered exactly what it was I was going to say. It felt a little awkward to just walk up to someone I didn't know and say, ‘I heard you got into a fight with your son’s kindergarten teacher because she turned you and your friend in for child abuse’. I had been floored when Gerald told me.
While I understood Susan was a mandated reporter, and of course she had to report any suspicions of child abuse, what I couldn’t believe was that she had turned Nikki and another mom, Joyce Winters, in for child abuse because they had their children following a vegan diet. After finding out that information, I totally understood why Gerald felt it would be better if Susan retired. That was quite an accusation to make about someone. Just because you didn’t agree with a vegan diet didn’t mean it was abuse. I was sure Gerald had been worried about what else she might say to a parent.
"Can I help you?" Nikki said as I walked up to her window and set my bag with the deposit in it on the counter, getting the money out, and setting it in front of her.
"Just the deposit?"
"Just the deposit," I said and waited to say anything so as not to distract her while she was counting money, although I had no doubt that she would be better at counting money and multitasking than I was. She handed me the receipt.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.
Now was my chance. I took a deep breath and said, "I do have one more thing."
"Sure. How can I help you?" she said with a grin. Customer service at its best.
"Can you tell me about your relationship with Susan Merriweather?"
The smile slid off her face and she narrowed her eyes at me. "Why would you be asking me about Susan Merriweather?"
I knew this wasn't going to be easy, though I'd hoped maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Based on the look on her face and her tone, I had a feeling I was wrong about that, and this wasn't going to be a good conversation in any form.
"I just heard that you two didn't really get along." I realized that comment was a severe understatement, and by the way Nikki's lip curled I had a feeling she was thinking the same.
“Of course I had an issue with the woman who tried to have me arrested for child abuse." Her voice got a little bit louder with each word and one of her coworkers turned to look at her.
“Did she try to reach out to you at all before she called child protective services?" I asked.
“She simply called me into a meeting after school one day and told me that my son wasn't getting enough nutrition and I should be feeding him a balanced diet, not some hippie food."
I internally winced. What was that saying? It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it? Though in this case I had a feeling it was both that offended Nikki. For Susan to demean a choice of diet plans and to accuse her of not knowing what was best for her son, I could imagine there was a lot of bad blood.
"That woman put me and my husband through the wringer. We had CPS come out to our house and they treated us like we were doing horrible things to our kids. We consulted a lawyer to see if we had any recourse to sue."
"Oh, do you have more than one child?"
"Yes. Little Joey, who was in Susan's class, and we have a younger daughter, Skyler, who is in preschool. The last thing I wanted was to deal with Susan all over again when Skyler reached kindergarten. That woman needed to be stopped."
“Did the lawyer say there was anything that could be done?" I said.
"I don't know why you see this as any business of yours. I don't remember you at any class meetings. Do you even have a kid in her class?"
"No, I'm just a concerned citizen.”
"Wait a minute. I know who you are," she said, her eyes growing big. “You’re Presley Sands, and every time something happens in this town, you're known to be getting in the middle of it. Do you think I had something to do with killing Susan?" she sneered.
"I don't know. Did you?" I said, figuring she was already mad; I might as well ask whatever I wanted at this point.
"I had nothing to do with that woman's death. She has already caused me enough problems. I had Joey transferred into the other kindergarten class, and it was my hope not to see her for the rest of the school year. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have customers," she said pointedly.
I took that as my sign to leave. I wanted to ask her where she had been on Saturday but figured that was pushing it too far. I grabbed my receipt and my bag and walked away. If Nikki had consulted a lawyer about the trouble Susan had caused for her, then I didn’t see her killing her.
I pulled out of the bank feeling I deserved a latte after that exchange, though I could justify getting a latte on any occasion, and headed to Betty’s. As I walked through the doors to the delightful aroma of coffee and sugar, my stomach rumbled, and I knew I would be getting a peach cream cheese muffin with my latte. I would probably loose ten pounds easily if I stopped coming here for a couple of months.
“Hey, Presley. Your usual?” Betty said from behind the counter.
“Yes, please.” I walked up and took a seat at the counter. I wasn’t in a huge rush to get anywhere and thought maybe Betty might have heard something about Susan’s murder. Surprising, or maybe not, how much Betty overheard. A lot like Katy at the hair salon.
“Are you staying here or is this to go?”
“Here,” I said and a few minutes later Betty sat my latte and the muffin in front of me.
“I love it when I can drink my latte here. You make such pretty designs with the froth.”
“Why, thank you,” Betty said and leaned against the counter like she was gearing up for a chat. I was lucky it wasn’t busy right now so I could ask her a few questions.
“Have you heard any gossip about Susan’s murder?”
Betty chuckled. “Getting right to the point, are you?”
“I thought I better while you’re not busy.”
“Surprisingly, I haven’t.”
“Really?” I looked up from my muffin with surprise.
“Really. Except for some rumor that the school system wanted Susan to take early retirement—and I heard that months ago—it’s been fairly quiet on the gossip front.”
Betty left me to think on that as she went to wait on another customer.
I was pretty sure Nikki hadn’t murdered Susan, but her friend Joyce was still on my mental list of people not happy with Susan, and I still needed to talk to Dale about the extra life insurance, and then this Josie person. Could she had wanted to win so badly that she would kill Susan?