CHAPTER SIX

I STOOD IN THE parking lot next to my car, having no memory of leaving Natalie’s office beyond stumbling into the wall a couple times as I half-ran, half-walked outside. I inhaled deeply.

A few minutes ago, the smell of ocean air had been pleasant. Now it felt heavy on my skin and the hint of salt turned my stomach.

Where is Natalie? Is she lying in there, hurt or dying?

After a couple of deep breaths, I dialed 9-1-1. I wanted to call Scoobie, but that would have to wait.

“Nine-one-one. What is the nature of your emergency?”

I took a breath. “I just, I found a dead person.”

After a beat, the female dispatcher said, “Where are you, and are you safe?”

“Sand and Sea Daycare Center. And I think so.”

She asked two or three more simple questions, and told me she wanted to keep me on the phone until the police arrived.

“I’m not going anywhere. I need to call my husband.”

“Let’s wait on that for just a few minutes. Can you hear the sirens approaching?”

“Oh, I can. That’s good.” I glanced around me. “It seems so peaceful.”

“Sure it does.” The woman’s tone, designed to be soothing, irritated me.

The smallest of the Ocean Alley Fire Department’s trucks pulled up, followed by an ambulance. Two men hopped out of the truck and a man and a woman alighted from the ambulance van.

One of the men worked as a phlebotomist at the hospital, and he gave me a distracted wave. If I could have remembered his name, I would have called out to him. Anything for a link to Scoobie.

The other man pulled a duffle bag from the firetruck. “Ma’am. Where is the person?”

“In, in Natalie’s office.”

“Which is where?”

“Oh, first floor. The side door is open. Turn right, away from the big playroom.”

The female EMT stood next to me, a hand on my elbow. “Steady now.”

The three men jogged up the porch steps and vanished into the building.

I looked at the woman, whose badge named her as Sandy. “Where is Natalie?”

Sandy kept a hand on my elbow and guided me to the porch steps. “She runs it, right? Were you meeting her here?”

I sat, and nodded. “At eight. Then the rest of the board would come at eight-thirty.”

“The dispatcher said the deceased was a man about forty…” she began.

Screeching tires brought Natalie’s old Ford Taurus into the lot. She parked a few feet from us and jumped out, eyes on the building. “There’s a fire? Where’s the fire?”

“No fire,” Sandy said.

Natalie’s eyes shifted to us. “Then what? Jolie?”

“Is anyone else supposed to be in the building?” Sandy asked. As she did, a police car pulled into the parking lot, and I realized it had been at least two minutes behind the ambulance.

Good thing somebody isn’t walking around with a gun.

Sergeant Dana Johnson got out of the passenger door. “Jolie. You found the body?”

Natalie literally shrieked. “Body! What body?” She began to move toward the steps.

Dana stepped in front of her. “You need to stay out here, Natalie.” Dana tilted her head to one side and the officer who had been driving ran into Sand and Sea.

“What’s going on, Jolie?” Dana asked.

I drew a steadying breath. “I came over to meet Natalie at eight. A light was on, so I thought she was in there. I went in the back door and…”

“It was open?” Dana asked.

Natalie’s voice went up an octave. “I locked it. I went home to let my dog out.”

Dana’s gaze never left me.

“I have a key to the back door. I let myself in. When I got to Natalie’s office I saw…” My voice caught.

The police officer who’d gone inside leaned out the door. “Code 10-100, Sergeant Johnson. I’ll call the medical examiner.”

Dana didn’t acknowledge him. “Where was the body, Jolie?”

“In Natalie’s office, at her desk.”

Natalie’s hands went to each side of her head. “In my office? Who? No one was in the building when I left!”

I finally looked at Natalie. “I’m sorry, but it’s Aaron Taylor.”

Natalie’s mouth gaped. Then her knees buckled and she slid to the ground.

 

I SAT IN THE SMALL conference room at the Ocean Alley Police Department and went over the last thirty minutes. Had it been such a short time?

When I arrived there, the daycare center had been quiet. No one had been on the nearby sidewalk, no car had driven by as I entered the center. When did Natalie leave to feed her dog? Had someone killed Aaron just before I got there?

I drove my car to the police station, but the EMTs had insisted Natalie sit with them in the ambulance for a few minutes. Dana Johnson told me that when she calmed down, Natalie would come to the station. Finally, her voice drifted down the hall.

I expected her to walk into the conference room, but instead she followed Dana down the hall, probably heading to Dana’s small office. I didn’t think she saw me.

I wanted to go home. When I called Scoobie to tell him what happened, he kept his voice calm, but the strain came through. “You sure you aren’t hurt?”

“I’ve stopped shaking, but I can’t get the sight of Aaron Taylor out of my mind.”

“Terry can stay with the kids…”

“They told me I won’t be here long. Let’s wait ten or fifteen minutes before you head out.”

“The kids are in bed.”

“You can come, of course. I thought they might let me go faster if you don’t.”

He said nothing for several seconds. “You’re probably right. Call me soon, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Sergeant Morehouse strode in, a folder under one arm. “Don’t really want you calling anyone, Jolie.”

“That was Scoobie. Can I go home soon?”

“Hope so.” He sat across from me. “I know you gave Dana the basics. Go over it with me.”

I took in his open-collared blue shirt and blue jeans. He must’ve come from somewhere other than home.”

“If you must know, I was helping set up the beer tent for Oktoberfest at St. Anthony’s.”

I smiled briefly. “Funny.” I sighed and relayed arriving at the parking lot at Sand and Sea and finding it empty, then walked him through finding Aaron’s body.

“You didn’t expect to see him?”

I shook my head. “Natalie wanted me to come before the rest…hey, did anyone call the other board members and let them know not to go to Sand and Sea?”

With barely quelled impatience, he said, “It’s been handled. Now, you were getting there early why?”

“Natalie gave me a copy of the proposed sales contract, and…”

“Why’d she do that? You’re not an agent now, are you?”

“No. She knows I did commercial real estate sales before I moved here, but I didn’t keep that license. I assumed she wanted a second pair of eyes before the meeting.”

“You know who was coming to the meeting? Could anyone else have been there earlier than you?”

“I know the other parents on the board, but not who was coming. As far as I know, no one else has a key to the back door.”

“Why do you have it?”

“I keep the files about ordering food in the cabinet in her office, and it’s closer than…”

“You have a key to the file cabinet?” he asked.

“You going to let me finish a sentence?”

He pointed an index finger at me.

“I don’t have that key. And I think a couple other parents have keys to the side door, people who get there early in the morning.”

“Before staff?”

“It’s a co-op, remember? Parents help with the kids.”

He nodded. “Right.” He opened his folder. “You know Mr. Taylor well?”

I shook my head. “I met him once, in her office a couple days ago. I did see him yesterday…”

“Where?”

I raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled slightly. “Do continue.”

“He and Benjamin Butterfield drove into the lot as I was leaving about eleven yesterday morning. I don’t think they saw me.” I didn’t mention I was deliberately staying out of sight.

Morehouse frowned. “Who’s this Butterfield?”

“Tanya at Economic Development could tell you more. He’s supposed to be in town to find a site for a small hotel. Aunt Madge heard he zeroed in on the Sand and Sea location.”

He sat up straighter. “Natalie wanted to sell?”

I didn’t feel like relaying Natalie’s business. “She likes the location, but she called us, the board, to talk about it. She could tell you more.”

“When did you get so diplomatic?”

I grinned. “Scoobie taught me.”

He snorted. “So, nothing to add about finding the guy?”

That sobered me. “I wish I could get the image out of my mind. I keep seeing him with his head next to that ledger book.” I studied Morehouse for a second. His buzz cut was due for a trim. “Did Natalie know why he was there?”

Morehouse hesitated. “No. Not that you’ll repeat stuff to anyone.”

“Except Scoobie.”

“Which means Terry. Make sure he don’t say anything at school. Even to my nephew.” He looked at the open folder. It contained only the piece of lined paper on which he’d taken a few notes as we talked. “You know what the ledger book has in it?”

“One of them has what I guess you’d call petty cash records. Mostly small stuff, but if a parent pays in cash I think she notes it in there before money goes to the bank. Natalie really wants checks.”

“There’s more than one ledger?”

“I saw two on her desk the other day.”

He scribbled the word ‘two’ and circled it. “Okay. Anything else?”

I shook my head.

“You got my cell. You can’t get through at the office, text or call if you think of something.”

I stood as he did.

“Give your kids a hug for me.” At the door, he turned. “And stay out of it.”

I fumed as I walked to the police station parking lot. As if a parent of four-year-olds would need to be told to stay away from a murder investigation. I supposed I could see his point. But I’ve never looked into anything that didn’t directly involve me. Other than finding the body, I had no oar in this water.

The phrase, “Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?,” went through my mind. Clearly my thinking was warped. Probably the shock.

As I tapped my key fob, George’s car pulled into the lot and he and Ramona nearly ran to me.

Ramona hugged me, hard. “Good God, Jolie, what if something had happened to you?”

George stood a couple feet behind her and I looked at him over Ramona’s shoulder. “Scoobie called us. One of the kids woke up, so he figured he should stay home.”

Ramona released me and I studied her kimono-style bathrobe and her long hair, which was pulled back in a scrunchie. “Dressed quickly?”

She slapped my shoulder gently. “We were in a hurry.”

I leaned against my car and hugged myself.

“Who was it?” George asked.

I frowned. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. Except to Scoobie.”

“It’s not like I work for the paper anymore.” When I didn’t say anything, he added, “I can wait to hear from Scoobie.”

I glanced around the lot. “You know Aaron Taylor?”

“Yeah. All smiles, but he’ll stab you in the.. That’s who got killed?”

I nodded.

Ramona frowned. “I don’t know him.”

“I only met him once.”

George’s phone buzzed and he answered it. “Yeah, she’s here in the parking lot. On her way home.” He studied me. “She hasn’t grown a second head or anything.”

I looked at Ramona and she shook her head. “So tactful. Call if you need us, Jolie.”

 

SCOOBIE STOOD ON THE FRONT porch as I pulled into the driveway. He ran down them and opened my car door. “You okay?”

I grabbed the hand he extended and let him pull me out. “No, but I’m glad I didn’t get there a few minutes earlier.”

Arm in arm we walked up the steps. “You think it had happened that recently?”

I shivered. “Natalie went home to let her dog out. I don’t know her exact timeline, but I don’t think she’d been gone that long.”

Terry opened the screen door and spoke quietly. “I think Lance finally went back to sleep.” He hugged me lightly in the hallway. “He’s still excited about his box mover.”

I felt happy to hear about something normal.

“I made you tea.” Terry turned to go into the kitchen.

I let Scoobie guide me to the couch. I wasn’t an invalid, but I knew he wanted to do something for me. I sank onto the couch. “Feels good to be home.”

Terry returned with my tea and I took it with a smile. “Thanks.”

“What will the kids do for school?” he asked.

“Gosh, it hadn’t occurred to me. I doubt the police will want people there tomorrow.”

Scoobie stared into space for a second. “I’m going to call Reverend Jamison.”

“Why…oh, the church,” I said. The nursery itself wouldn’t be big enough, but the community room near it could be converted to a play area for a day. “Good idea.”

Terry sat on the rocker across from me. “George called to tell us who got killed.”

I swore softly.

Terry grinned for a moment. “Like you thought he’d keep a secret.”

“I only told him because he said he’d have Scoobie tell him later.”

“Did you know the guy?”

I wondered how many more times I’d be repeating myself. “I talked to him once, for less than a minute.”

“Nice guy? How old?”

“Friendly enough. Maybe forty. Sort of good looking.”

Scoobie ended his call and turned to Terry and me. “He said they can come for one day, since it’s kind of an emergency. Anything more and he’d have to check with insurance or something.”

I took my phone from my purse. “I’ll text Morehouse. He can ask Natalie if she’s thought that far ahead.”

As I did that, the house phone rang. When Scoobie said hello to Aunt Madge I realized I should have called her. He listened and said, “Just a second.” He covered the receiver with one hand.” She wants to know if we’ve seen her guest, Benjamin Butterfield. He didn’t check out and he hasn’t been there this evening.”

I took the phone from Scoobie. “Aunt Madge? I was, uh, just at Sand and Sea. He sure wasn’t there.”

“I didn’t really expect him to be helping himself to the pineapple-orange juice,” she said, dryly, “but I thought he might have been a topic of conversation.”

“He would have been on the agenda, but we didn’t actually have the meeting.”

Scoobie pointed a finger at me and mouthed, “Tell her.”

Aunt Madge sounded disappointed. “Did Natalie decide to sell? I really hoped she wouldn’t. That’s the only daycare center downtown.”

“Actually, Aunt Madge, I got there before she did, and I found someone at her desk.”

“As in someone who wasn’t supposed to be there?” she asked.

“Right. A, um, dead someone. Aaron Taylor…”

“What? Was it a heart attack?” Her voice rose. “Wait. He’s young. What happened?”

“There was blood. I think someone killed him.”

She did a sharp intake of breath. “Whoever heard of a murder in a daycare center?”

Behind me, Terry said, “Jolie.”

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Shaken, but okay. I didn’t see anyone around. I called the police.”

“Where was Natalie?”

“She’d gone home to let her dog out before the meeting.”

After several seconds of silence, Aunt Madge said, “I know Mr. Butterfield met with Aaron Taylor at some point.”

“You should probably tell that to Sergeant Morehouse,” I said.

She sighed. “I hope he isn’t somewhere in the same condition as Aaron.”