Death of a Coupon Clipper (7 page)

When the Bar Harbor police cruiser pulled up to the crime scene and Officer Donnie
stepped out, Hayley audibly gasped. Donnie’s face was pockmarked all over with red
splotches. It looked like his face was swelling.

“Donnie, are you all right?” Hayley asked, touching his arm with her hand, but quickly
retracting it out of fear that whatever he had was infectious.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Donnie said, scratching his face. “I’m breaking out in hives.
This hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I used to get them before I had to take a
geometry test.”

Yes, stress often caused hives. And Officer Donnie had been under an incredible amount
of it since taking over for Chief Sergio Alvares.

“So, what happened here, Hayley?” Donnie asked, still scratching.

Hayley glanced down at Candace Culpepper’s body, the pair of scissors sticking out
of her back. “Um, well, Donnie, I think it’s fair to say there’s been a murder.”

Donnie looked down and nodded. “Yes, looks like it.”

Hayley waited for Donnie to take charge, but he just stood there, averting his eyes
away from the body and stepping back.

“Did you call forensics, Donnie? Are they on their way here?”

“No, I should have somebody do that.”

“Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” Hayley said.

Donnie pulled out his cell phone, but he just held it in front of his face for a few
moments, staring at it. “I don’t know the number. Do you know the number?”

“Why don’t you call the station and have the dispatcher contact them? They’re going
to need to do a full sweep of the crime scene.”

“Right. I’ll do that. Meantime, maybe you ought to get those scissors out of her back.
I’d do it myself, but I’ve never actually seen a dead body before, and it’s really
kind of freaking me out.”

“Donnie, if we remove the scissors, then we’re tampering with the crime scene, and
that’s not really a good thing, so let’s not touch anything, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” Donnie said, holding the phone to his ear, his hand
shaking. “Damn, my face itches!”

Hayley was still in a state of shock over Candace’s dead body lying only a few feet
away from her. Who would commit such a horrific violent act? How could anyone literally
stab her in the back?

Donnie mumbled something to his dispatcher and nodded before ending his call and stuffing
his cell phone back in his pocket. Then he just stared numbly at Hayley.

“Donnie?”

Nothing.

“Donnie?”

He finally snapped out of his dazed state. “Yeah? What?”

“Now that forensics is on their way, you might want to think about cordoning off the
crime scene with police tape.”

“Is that the yellow tape with the black writing on it that says something like ‘Do
Not Cross,’ or words to that effect?”

“Yes, that would be correct.”

“I don’t think I brought any. You think maybe the hardware store sells it? Are they
still open this time of night?”

“Probably not. But perhaps you could check in the trunk of your cruiser? There might
be some in there.”

Donnie thought about this for a second, then nodded, and crossed over to the police
car and popped open the trunk. He peered inside.

Sure enough, there was a roll of tape in plain view. He scooped it up and handed it
to Hayley.

“You think you could do it? My hands are a little shaky.”

Hayley nodded and took the tape from him and began unraveling it.

“Damn. A car crash and a murder, all in one night. We might as well be living in Boston.
This is just too much for a small town.”

What he meant to say was this was all too much for
him
.

Cars began arriving on the scene—mostly curious onlookers who had heard about the
murder from their police scanners, just like the one Hayley kept on top of her refrigerator
to monitor all the goings-on in town.

When she finished tying the yellow crime-scene tape around the trees surrounding Candace’s
body, she walked back over to Donnie, who was yelling at the gawking residents to
step back and keep out of the way. His face was getting redder and redder, and not
just from the hives.

Hayley spoke softly, hoping not to make his meltdown even worse. “Why don’t you question
me now, Donnie.”

“What? Why?”

Hayley sighed. “Because I’m the one who discovered the body.”

“Oh, right,” Donnie said, staring at her blankly, not exactly sure how to proceed.

Hayley decided to take the lead. “I was visiting Mrs. Tubbs at the hospital after
her accident earlier tonight and she asked me to come by and feed her cat and pick
up a few of her belongings that she might need. When I arrived, I saw a figure lying
facedown in the snow and I immediately thought it was Candace.”

“The body is facedown. How could you tell it was Candace Culpepper?”

Finally.

A reasonable question.

“I recognized her jacket, and her white pants are obviously part of a nurse’s uniform,
and I found her body on her front lawn, so I thought it was safe to assume it was
Candace.”

“Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘When you assume, you make an ass of you and me’?”

“Yes, Donnie, but her face was also turned in my direction, so I was pretty sure it
was Candace.”

Donnie inched closer to the body, knelt down, and was about to turn the head toward
him before Hayley stopped him.

“To reiterate, Donnie, I don’t think it’s a smart idea to touch the body just yet.”

Donnie glowered at her, but he nodded; then he stood back up. “Don’t matter. I’m pretty
sure it’s Candace Culpepper.”

“I think you might be right, Donnie,” Hayley said. “Do you have any more questions
for me?”

“No. Not at the moment. But don’t be thinking of leaving town just yet.”

“I live here, Donnie. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know. But sometimes suspects take off without warning, to avoid being arrested.”

“Am I a suspect?”

“Everyone is a suspect, or at least a person of integrity.”

“‘Person of interest’?”

“Yeah, isn’t that what I said?”

Well, at least Officer Donnie was like Sergio in one respect. Mixing up his words.
But fortunately for Sergio, English was not his first language, so he had a decent
excuse. As for Officer Donnie, well, it was best just to assume his nerves were getting
the best of him.

However, when you assume . . .

When Hayley finally made it back to the Bar Harbor Hospital with a tote bag filled
with some makeup, a nightgown, and a few books of crossword puzzles for Mrs. Tubbs,
word had spread fast about the fate of Candace Culpepper. There was an eerie silence
in the main lobby as Hayley entered through the automatic sliding glass doors and
approached the reception desk.

Evelyn Tate was at her station, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, a lost look on
her face.

“Isn’t it just terrible, Hayley? Candace, of all people? Such a kindhearted, sweet
woman. She just radiated goodness and light!”

Hayley nodded, not quite sure what to say. “Yes. Terrible. Just terrible.”

“The patients are simply devastated. She was their favorite nurse in the whole hospital.
Always going that extra mile to make them feel comfortable.”

Now that was a stretch. Hayley knew for a fact that Candace had at least a dozen patient
complaints lodged against her for her rude manner and penchant for telling the sick
and tired to stop feeling sorry for themselves.

Evelyn buried her face in her balled-up tissue as Hayley awkwardly reached over and
patted her on the back before she hurried to the elevator.

 

 

When Hayley arrived at the nurses’ station near Mrs. Tubbs’s private room, Tilly McVety
was also in tears, shaking her head. Hovering around were a few of the night shift
nurses, all of them in a state of shock.

Hayley tried to slip past them, unnoticed, hoping to leave them to their grieving,
but Tilly spotted her and grabbed a fistful of her winter coat.

“Oh, Hayley, tell me this isn’t happening! Tell me Candace isn’t really dead!”

Before Hayley could respond, Tilly threw her arms around her and began weeping uncontrollably,
dampening Hayley’s coat with tears and phlegm.

Again, the only thing Hayley could think to do was gently and awkwardly pat Tilly
on the back. She didn’t dare say anything, because she knew it would come out wrong
and make her look insensitive or unconcerned about Candace’s sudden death.

The fact was, Hayley was gravely concerned. She just didn’t buy all this outpouring
of emotion from Candace’s coworkers. They all knew she was not the warmest person
and had a vicious competitive streak. But perception always changes with someone’s
passing and Hayley accepted that.

“She was such a free spirit. So happy and calm about everything. She never let anything
get to her,” Tilly said, sobbing.

Except competing in an extreme coupon-clipping show and wanting to win at all costs.

No, it was best not to bring that up.

“I know, Tilly. So tragic,” Hayley said, trying to wriggle out of her iron-like grip.
But Tilly wouldn’t let go. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Tilly relaxed
her arms. Hayley leapt at the opportunity to scoot away from her. Tilly eyed her suspiciously,
like she was gauging Hayley’s sincerity about losing such a dear, beloved friend.

Hayley sensed this and slowly shook her head. “Such a senseless loss.”

She was being honest. It was senseless. What could have possibly driven someone to
take a pair of industrial-size scissors and plunge them right into Candace’s back?
It was so vicious. So cold. She just wished Sergio were not in Brazil and could properly
investigate, instead of relying on a nervous rookie with a case of shingles.

“I better get this bag to Mrs. Tubbs,” Hayley said softly. “She’s probably wondering
what’s taking me so long.”

“Oh, dear. Mrs. Tubbs, she was Candace’s neighbor. This is going to kill her,” Tilly
cried, scurrying off to the ladies’ room to find some toilet paper to cry into.

When Hayley entered Mrs. Tubbs’s room, the octogenarian was sitting up in bed, watching
the local news on TV. They were already reporting the murder and trying to interview
Officer Donnie, who seemed to be running away from the scene to avoid the cameras.

“Who would do such a thing, Hayley?” Mrs. Tubbs said, staring at the television.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Tubbs,” Hayley said. “But I’m sure the police will find out.”

Mrs. Tubbs gave Hayley a disbelieving look. “If you think Dennis the Menace there
is going to solve anything, then you need a reality check, my dear.”

Hayley smiled for the first time since stumbling across Candace’s dead body.

“I hate to say this, but I feel a lot safer here in the hospital than at home with
a mad killer on the loose in the neighborhood,” Mrs. Tubbs said, pulling a baby blue
hospital-issued blanket up over her chest. “You never know who could be next.”

“Well, I’m not sure this was a random killing,” Hayley said. Her eyes were fixed on
the television as the news broadcast showed a picture of Candace in her nurse’s uniform.

“Do you think it was somebody she knew?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. You lived next door to her. Did you ever see her fighting with
anyone?”

“No. Never. But then again, I never saw her too much. She worked all the time, and
I go to bed at eight, right after
Jeopardy!
before she even gets home. And I take out my hearing aid and can sleep through a
category-five hurricane.”

Hayley couldn’t help but focus on the fact that the killer used a pair of scissors
to stab her—scissors that someone would use to clip coupons. There was an irony about
the murder weapon that kept gnawing at her.

Mrs. Tubbs reached out and touched Hayley’s arm. “Hayley, I’m so worried.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Tubbs. You’re perfectly safe here.”

“No. I’m not talking about the murder. Officer Donnie, that little prick, came by
again, insisting I’m too old to drive and saying he’s going to take away my license
one way or the other. What will I do without my car, Hayley? I need to get to the
grocery store, the bank, the post office.”

Hayley resisted the urge to ask Mrs. Tubbs, in the event that the police did confiscate
her license, if she would be willing to sell her car real cheap. No, that would not
be appropriate at this time, not when Mrs. Tubbs was on the verge of tears and feeling
so vulnerable.

Still, it was something to keep in the back of her mind.

“I’m sure once they review all the facts of the accident, you’ll be cleared to drive
again. And if not, you have lots of friends. We’ll all pitch in and get you where
you need to go.”

Hayley handed Mrs. Tubbs the tote bag. “Now I got you everything you requested. If
you need me to run to the store in the morning before I go to work, I’d be happy to
pick up whatever you need.”

“But tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Sal’s making us work because of the snow day earlier this week.”

“Slave driver.”

“Tell me about it,” Hayley said, chuckling.

“What about Blueberry? Did you see Blueberry when you were at the house?”

“No. But I left a big bowl of food and some water in the pantry off the kitchen. He
should be fine until I can get back over there tomorrow.”

“He was probably hiding under the bed. I’m sure he’s so scared right now. He doesn’t
know what’s happening and why I’m not there. I’m so worried about him. Hayley, please
don’t leave him alone in that cold, dark house.”

“I’m not sure what I can—”

“Can you take him home with you? Just until I get out of the hospital?”

“Well, the thing is, Mrs. Tubbs, I’m not staying at my house right now. I’m actually
at my brother’s, and—”

“That big, rambling house on the shore? Oh, Blueberry would love staying there. Exploring
all the nooks and crannies. Oh, please, Hayley, I’m begging you. Is your brother allergic
to cats?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just not sure if he wants me to bring home . . .”

Mrs. Tubbs’s eyes brimmed with tears; her finger twisted around her thin, gray hair;
she looked so helpless and worried.

Hayley just hated herself for falling for it, but she found herself saying, “Sure.
I’ll go by there now and pick him up.”

Suddenly the tears were gone and Mrs. Tubbs was smiling, satisfied her performance
got her exactly what she wanted. “Thank you, Hayley. You’re a peach.”

Hayley tried Randy’s cell to warn him of their four-legged houseguest, but he didn’t
pick up. He was still at the bar, busy serving the rowdy fishermen blowing off steam
after a long week of hauling traps.

But Hayley wasn’t too worried.

Not really.

How much trouble could one cat be?

Worst. Decision. Ever.

 

 

Unfortunately, Hayley underestimated the bloody battle it would take to get Mrs. Tubbs’s
fat, nasty Persian cat, with satanic yellow eyes, out from under the bed and into
a plastic carrier. Making kissing sounds and reaching under the bed to coax him out
was her first mistake. Blueberry hissed and howled and used Hayley’s arms for a scratching
post.

Hayley was about to give up, but then went through Mrs. Tubbs’s kitchen drawers and
found some Christmas-themed oven mitts with reindeer embroidered on them. She slipped
them on and was able to get a grip on the struggling ball of fur. Getting him into
the carrier took another agonizing thirty minutes with him slipping out of her covered
arms and racing around the house. Luckily, Blueberry’s massive weight slowed him down
considerably and Hayley managed to corner him with the carrier and force him inside.
He continued hissing as she slammed the metal door of the cage shut and locked it
into place.

She was out of breath by the time she secured Blueberry and finally got Randy on the
phone to pick her up on his way home from the bar. Randy was more than a bit wary
about hosting a demon cat in his house. He relented, however, because there wasn’t
much choice in the matter, since neither of them wanted Mrs. Tubbs to worry.

The one other factor neither considered was Leroy. Leroy loved chasing cats, and there
was some concern that he might terrorize the poor kitty. But that theory was quickly
put to rest when the carrier was unloaded and Blueberry flew out like a shot. Rather
impressive for such a huge, flabby cat.

No, Leroy was not going to scare Blueberry.

First of all, Blueberry was almost twice Leroy’s size.

And the moment Leroy came running at Blueberry, full of excitement and expecting a
fun romp around the house, the cat’s claws came out, the teeth were bared, and Blueberry
slashed Leroy across the nose.

Leroy went yelping in the other direction, and the demon cat followed him, slowly,
methodically, determined to keep the tables turned on this rather annoying yapping
little adversary.

Keep him on the run.

That was Blueberry’s plan.

And it worked.

Leroy hid behind a door as Blueberry finally turned away and decided to get comfy
on Randy’s expensive, hand-printed Oriental rug near the fireplace.

And that’s where he settled before peeing all over it.