Maddie Cochere - Two Sisters and a Journalist 01 - Murder Under Construction (7 page)

He seemed impressed. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Some kids never grow up, and Matt is just as bad as Buck, but only Buck has the license.”

A pretty burst of red stars covered the sky, and everyone let out a collective, “Oooooh.”

Mrs. Wyler came out of the house next door to stand on her front lawn and watch. Pepper walked over to say hello and watch the fireworks with her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stewie shift in his seat. Not much, but a definite slight turn toward me. He wiped his hands on his shorts and ever so slowly started to move his right hand toward my left hand.

I jumped up. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Mama asked. “I can’t hear anything over these explosions.”

“A siren. I heard a siren. Sergeant Rorski will be here in record time this year.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Stewie said.

“Must have been a false alarm,” I said as I slowly sat down to await another uncomfortable attempt by Stewie to hold my hand. It was a miracle when a few seconds later, a patrol car actually pulled across the bottom of the driveway, and Sergeant Rorski stepped out. I was surprised to see he wasn’t in uniform.

“Evening, folks,” he said as he came up the drive. “You’ve outdone yourselves this year.”

Pepper rushed over from Mrs. Wyler’s. “Sergeant Rorski,” she said between booms, “There’s a ton of food in the house. Help yourself.”

He simply nodded and faced the fireworks display. It wasn’t long before it appeared to be in its finale stage when several fireworks went up at one time.

A few minutes later Buck was running across the cul-de-sac and grinning from ear to ear. He was greeted with a rousing round of applause.

Sergeant Rorski stood with hands on hips. “Do you have your paperwork, Buck?”

He removed a paper from his back pocket and said, “I sure do, Sergeant.”

After looking over the license, he addressed Jackie. “Come down to the station in the morning. I need you to run a photo of the murdered girl.”

“Why?” I asked. “I thought your investigators had this all but sewn up.”

“Those two knuckleheads found Sherry Clarke’s parents all right, but it didn’t go well when they were informed Sherry was murdered - probably by her pimp. Especially since Sherry is a junior in high school and spending the holiday with a girlfriend.”

I saw Jackie put her hand over her mouth to conceal a smile. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” she said.

He turned to Pepper and asked, “Any pie left?”

She flashed a smile my way before saying, “Jo ate the last piece of blueberry, but I think there’s apple and peach left.” She led the Sergeant through the garage and into the house.

Peach pie sounded like a good way to end the night. I left Stewie and his sweaty hands behind and headed for the kitchen.

“Good morning. Buxley Mortgage. May I help you?”

There was no enthusiasm in my voice. The boss was out for the week, my co-workers were immersed in paperwork, and the insurance office next door was closed. There would be no schmoozing with the guys over there today. I was bored out of my mind, and so far, my eyes had been closed more than they were open.

“Mr. McCray is out of the office until next week. May I take a message?”

I hoped there would be no message. It was too much of an effort to write words on paper. I felt like I had a hangover. Not from beer, but from sugar. My lack of energy was startling.

After filling out the pink
While You Were Out
form, I dragged myself into the break room for a third cup of coffee. It was only ten thirty, and it was going to be a brutally long day if I couldn’t stop yawning every few minutes.

A box of donuts was open on the table. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the newspaper from the counter, and sat down to consider the sweet treats. I wondered who brought them in. There were never donuts in the break room. Brian McCray was into all things healthy and didn’t believe in eating sugar. According to him, it was “poison to the body.” He would have a conniption if he knew they were here.

I selected a chocolate glazed beauty and set it on a napkin.

The first bite was wonderful, and I let out a loud hmmm sound of approval. I devoured the donut and licked chocolate from my fingertips before sipping coffee and opening the folded paper. The front page took me by surprise. The headline read:
Do You Know Her? Police Ask for Help in Identifying Murdered Woman
. A picture of the very dead Ruby Rosewell appeared under the headline.

I assumed Doug beat Jackie to the punch, but the by-line was Jackie’s. She must have talked with Sergeant Rorski last night and worked late to get the article in today’s edition.

The picture was one taken by the photographer at the construction site. It was cropped to show only her face, but because it was black and white, and shot from a slight angle under her chin, the picture didn’t look like Ruby at all. There was no way this was going to help solve her murder.

“What are you reading?”

I looked up to see Stewie standing in the doorway. Watching from doorways was apparently his thing. I tossed the paper across the table and said, “Jackie put Ruby’s picture on the front page. Maybe they’ll get some leads, but I doubt it. It doesn’t even look like her.”

He studied the picture for a few moments. “Nope. I’ve never seen her before.”

I snickered. “Well, why would you? Do you find yourself in need of a prostitute often?”

He didn’t appear to find humor in the question.

“Jo, listen. I think we’ve been on the wrong foot lately. I like you. I’d like to get to know you better. How about giving me another chance? Let me take you out for dinner Saturday. We’ll make it casual and go early. I’ll pick you up around six.”

Hmmm. Stewie. Dinner on Saturday. I didn’t know what it was about him that turned me off, but I definitely didn’t sense any chemistry between us. On the other hand, maybe I wasn’t being fair. He wasn’t unattractive, and he was likable at times.

He tried to seal the deal. “I brought the donuts for you today.”

Mystery solved. After watching me eat so many desserts yesterday, he knew playing to my sweet tooth was a good move on his part. “Brian would fire you if he knew you brought donuts in here.”

He laughed. “I’m not worried, and you have until next Monday to eat them all.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. They’re really good.”

We lapsed into small talk. I finally said, “Dinner on Saturday sounds nice.”

When I returned to my desk, I was desperate to find something to occupy my time. I organized my middle desk drawer. I made labels for folders. I shopped online for a new bra, but I didn’t buy one. If Pepper and I were going to lose weight, my boobs would get smaller, and I would probably need new bras soon. I switched from bras to books. I surfed free books to download. To date, I had over two thousand books downloaded onto the company computer, but I hadn’t read any of them. I had plenty of time to read at work, but the few times I tried, I had fallen asleep with my hand under my chin. It was pointless to continue to download books, but I enjoyed reading blurbs and looking at covers.

“Jo, I have to run down to the courthouse. Do you have time to enter an application?”

Only four employees staffed our small office. Barb, a sweet woman in her late fifties, took applications and pulled credit reports. Stewie handled paperwork from appraisers, insurers, and the title company. Brian, our manager, was the primary contact between approved applicants, agents, and lenders in getting to a smooth closing.

It was Barb who was asking for help.

“I’d be happy to,” I told her. “Anything to stay awake.”

Her smile was sympathetic as she left the office. She knew how much I hated the boredom of the front desk job.

I opened the template for the application and began slotting in the information from the handwritten worksheet. This was a young couple buying their first home. They were both twenty-four with steady employment since high school. The husband was a highway maintenance worker making forty-seven thousand dollars a year. The wife was a hairdresser making sixty thousand a year in salary and tips.

Her wages flabbergasted me. I instantly regretted not finding a way to go to college. Pepper had gone on a partial scholarship, but Mama said I should just get a job and work my way up from the bottom somewhere. I had taken a few continuing education classes at our local branch of Kent State University, but the classes were basic office classes for working with documents and spreadsheets. Fourteen years later, here I was stuck in yet another boring, dead-end job. I had no idea going to beauty school could have enabled me to make so much money while styling hair and designing art on fingernails.

Thinking of fingernails brought Ruby to mind again. I needed to check salons in the area to see if anyone recognized the pattern on her nails.

I quickly finished the application and started an online search. There were five hair salons in Buxley. Four more were located near the mall between Buxley and Patterson. I counted seventeen within the Patterson city limits. 

I walked back to Stewie’s office and stuck my head through the doorway. “I’m taking an early lunch. Would you mind answering the telephone until Barb gets back? It’s been quiet, so it probably won’t even ring.”

He barely looked up from his paperwork while throwing a “sure” in my direction. I raced out of the office before he could change his mind.

Heat and humidity blasted me when I stepped out onto the sidewalk, but I didn’t mind. It felt good to be out of the office, and the hot sun felt wonderful on my face. Tammy’s Hair, Nails, and Tanning was only three blocks away, and I knew I would enjoy the walk.

When I pushed the salon door open, I was sweating, my hips hurt, and I was out of breath. I sat in the nearest empty chair and put my head on my knees.

“Are you ok?”

I looked up into the concerned face of a woman wearing a yellow smock. I nodded my head, but the feeling of lightheadedness was still with me.

“Can I get you some water?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think that might help,” I said as I lowered my head again.

What was wrong with me? Was I so out of shape I couldn’t walk three lousy blocks? It probably had something to do with the sugar overload the past two days. I would have to find some real food soon.

The woman brought a bottle of water, and I chugged it. My heart rate slowed, and I started to feel better in the cool salon. I suddenly felt sheepish.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t been eating right lately, and I walked three blocks to get here. With the hot sun, I think it was all too much.”

She took the empty water bottle and asked, “How can I help you? Do you have an appointment?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m looking for a nail technician.” I pulled my phone from my purse and accessed the photo of Ruby’s manicured hand. “Do you recognize this? Do you know who might do this style of nail?”

“That’s a common design,” she said. “I do all the nails here, and I’ve done quite a few like that myself. I can do it for you if you’d like.”

“Maybe another time,” I said. “Right now, I’m trying to find out who might have done the nails on this particular girl. Do you recall doing this recently in these colors?”

She studied the photograph more closely. “No, I don’t think so. When was the picture taken?”

“Last Saturday.”

“It definitely wasn’t me. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

I thanked the woman and left the shop. Rather than to risk heatstroke walking back to the office, I crossed the street and entered Mama Rosie’s Pizza Emporium.

The restaurant was new in town, and this was my first visit. A sign directed me to seat myself, so I chose a corner booth.

Dimmed lighting and more than adequate air conditioning made the dining room comfortable. I pulled a menu from between a bottle of Parmesan cheese and one of hot pepper flakes. No wonder they called this place an emporium. They served pizza, soups, salads, stromboli, calzones, hero sandwiches, pasta, and seafood. When my waitress arrived, I ordered the chicken pizzaiola with peppers and marinara sauce. That should take care of my body’s need for something other than sugar.

While I waited, I contemplated the information I knew about Ruby again. If I wanted to be serious about becoming a private investigator, I would have to concentrate harder on her murder. It was obvious the Buxley police weren’t making headway, so I needed to come up with a plan. Canvassing more salons would be my top priority. I couldn’t start tonight, because Pepper and I were going to Figure Perfect. I would definitely have to take some more time off work. I already planned to skip out on Friday to go to Marietta with Pepper and the kids, so I might as well call off tomorrow, too.

The thought instantly raised my spirits.

My food arrived, and I was astonished at the huge portion size. There was enough for lunch and supper, too, but I devoured every delicious morsel. The waitress didn’t say anything, but she didn’t mask her surprise at my empty plate. If I had been thin, she wouldn’t have batted an eye, but I noticed more and more, at my heavier weight, people didn’t always hide their disdain at my food consumption. There was a lot to be said for take-out and eating at home.

While I was looking over my bill and calculating the tip, Stewie walked into the restaurant with a well-dressed man in a suit. I didn’t recognize the man as one of our clients. They chose a booth near the front door and immediately engaged in a spirited discussion. I couldn’t tell if it was friendly or contentious.

Now I had a dilemma. Should I stop and say hello, or simply walk out and pretend I didn’t see them. After leaving money on the table, I approached the two men.

“Hi, Stewart,” I said. He knew I had already made it a habit to call him Stewie, but I gave him the courtesy of using his formal name in front of his guest. I paused to give him an opportunity to say hello and introduce me, but he did neither, and both men simply stared at me. I became flustered by his lack of manners and said lamely, “I had a great lunch. Try the chicken pizzaiola.”

The man with Stewie showed obvious irritation by my interruption. Stewie was curt. “I’ve been here before. It’s a nice restaurant. I’ll see you later, Jo.”

I barely uttered a good-bye before dashing out the door. The encounter was extremely uncomfortable, and I didn’t understand Stewie’s rudeness.

The walk back to the office wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the initial walk to the salon, and I arrived with minimal perspiration. Stewie was friendly when he came back to the office, but I pretended to be wrapped in work. His attitude at the restaurant made me angry with myself for agreeing to go out with him on Saturday.

I spent the rest of my afternoon searching online for information to become a private investigator. I was discouraged to see college classes in criminology took four years to obtain a degree. That wasn’t my plan. I wanted to pay a fee, take a test, and get right to work. The only other way to become a private investigator was through on-the-job experience under a mentor. I’d have to ask Jackie about that. And I’d need a gun.

~ ~ ~

My core temperature was rising as the sun beat down on my head. I knew if I didn’t go home before too long, I might have another episode like the one I experienced at lunchtime.

So far, I had walked back and forth across half of the construction site, and so far, there was nothing to see but dirt and rocks. The police didn’t find any evidence here, but I wouldn’t be convinced until I checked for myself.

I spotted a piece of paper sticking out from under a rock, but upon further investigation, it turned out to be a piece of plastic.
Leave no stone unturned
ran through my mind. I couldn’t help chuckling at the thought. Turning over every stone in the construction site would take the better part of a year. I quickened my pace. My neck and back were starting to hurt.