1 Who Killed My Boss? (16 page)

Then she really started blubbering. “I really didn’t mean to, but I did and I’m sorry and Dr. Burns…” More slobbering and more mumbling and not much clear conversation, but her glance kept straying toward the kitchen door.

“Gwen, I can’t understand what you are saying. Can you please calm down and tell me what you did and what you are sorry for?” I was getting tired of these half-confessions.

This was getting more and more curious. Why did Gwen insist on confessing to me all the time when I knew she was innocent?

She regained some composure. “Charlie said that you fed him and helped him when I was in jail. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to him if I leave or if they…” Slobber, slobber, etc.

She really collapsed then and I couldn’t get a coherent word out of her. She still couldn’t keep her eyes away from the door leading to the kitchen. In between hiccups and blubbering, that is. So acting on a hunch, I got up quietly, opened the kitchen door, walked through that room, and quickly and with lots of force opened the door to Burns’ office. A loud thump produced a grunt of satisfaction in me. The thump was the result of Carolyn Burns landing ignominiously on her butt. She lay spread-eagle on the floor. I was sure the position was not unknown to her. The look on her face was worth anything I might have to experience.

The look on her face said, “Guilty as charged.”

FIFTEEN

F
rom her new position
on the floor, Carolyn grunted her displeasure. I felt a bump behind me as Gwen moved close to look over my shoulder. I tried to behave professionally, since I was on duty and since we were in the office of the dearly departed. I tried, but I failed. The laughter escaped. It felt wonderful to cut loose with a belly laugh. I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face. I laughed so hard I snorted. I laughed so hard I couldn’t see. I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. I laughed so hard that Carolyn and Gwen left without me noticing. Shit.

I wondered why they left together, when they should actually hate each other. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Tears were still overflowing from my bout of uncontrollable mirth when I went out to the waiting room to see if Charlie was still there.

“Clara, did you see Charlie Schneider leave?”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Snort. “Allergies.” Hiccup. “Did you see Charlie leave?”

“Yes, he went out rather quickly after Gwen and Mrs. Burns.”

“Are you sure they left together or was it just accidental that they went out the door at the same time?”

“I’m quite sure they left together. They were speaking to one another as they left.” Even though Clara Schmitt was brand new, she didn’t miss a trick. She looked deceptively like a grandmother type, but this lady was sharp. If she said they left together, I guess I needed to believe her.

I didn’t call George or Rob, since I’d see George in a few hours. There was only one person on my caseload because of the confusion after the funeral, so I decided to take off early, go home and relax before my dinner with George.

I had walked to work today. The frigid crispness of the January day was just what I’d needed to uncloud my mind. Walking home was even better. The late afternoon sun danced over the ice and snow and brought fanciful notions to my head. I imagined that I was an owner of one of the mansions instead of just a renter. The thought made me walk taller. This was a great neighborhood.

Clancy was waiting at the door for me. Leash in mouth.

“Gee, Clance, can’t you give me one minute before we go for a walk?”

The answer was “No.” It was comforting to have her in my life, but I could understand why she was upset. Normally we spent a lot of time together, but with my accidents and two dates in a row, it’s no wonder she was feeling left out.

I thought about calling Pete, but he had told me he was working evenings this week. The rest of the tribe would be busy at this hour, coming home from work and spending a little time with their families before dinner. I didn’t want to disturb anyone just to run my ideas by them. Maybe Clancy would suffice. She was my best bet anyway, at least until I could talk to George or Michael. It seemed like a good idea to solidify my thoughts before I tried to talk to either one of them. Neither was convinced that I knew what I was talking about. And Clancy didn’t think I was crazy—at least she didn’t tell me so.

“Okay, let’s go. I guess I could use the exercise myself. I need to talk about some stuff too. Maybe you could help me.” I threw my purse on the couch and opened the door, letting Clancy lead the way. She took off for her favorite haunts with me dutifully following at leash length.

“I’m positive Carolyn killed her husband. But I’m also sure she had help. She’s much too prissy to stick a scalpel into someone. Now who was her accomplice?”

Clancy turned and looked at me thoughtfully. She cocked her head in her thinking mode, but didn’t say anything.
Gosh, Sam, of course she didn’t say anything, you nitwit. She’s a dog
.

“Here’s the list of possibles. Gwen Schneider. I know she didn’t do it, because she feels innocent. She sure acts strange though. But that’s no reason to consider her a murderer. Just because she semi-confessed to me twice doesn’t mean she did it. Also, she and Carolyn certainly wouldn’t be accomplices in this kind of thing. I do wonder why they left the clinic together though.

“Charlie Schneider. I think he just loves his sister a lot and relies on her to keep him almost sane. He doesn’t feel guilty to me either, even though he confessed. He does have a motive though. He feels protective of his sister—she’s the only family he has.”

“Michael O’Dear. I know, Clance. He can’t be guilty. He’s too cute and he likes me. The only reason he’s on the list is that I’m dizzy when I’m around him, the same as when I’m near Carolyn. So that’s the list. I’m sure there are other possibilities. I mean, there’s gotta be. Those three are all innocent. So we gotta find Carolyn’s accomplice. Or maybe find out more about her. I mean, I could be wrong about her not being able to stick the scalpel in Burns. Maybe she used to be a surgical nurse, or a knife thrower in a circus or something.”

Or maybe she’s a psychopath.
I didn’t express that notion aloud; afraid that even Clancy would think it was too much.

On that note, we arrived at the park. I let Clancy off the leash for a while so she could run and tire herself out. I didn’t feel like running. All of this brainwork was tiring. When Clancy came back to me with her tongue hanging out, we headed for home.

The return to our place passed quickly, with Clancy and me taking turns leading.

When we arrived, Clancy went to her corner, got a drink of water, and circled around for a nap.

It was time to decide on the all-important outfit. I climbed into my closet to begin the familiar ritual. What to wear. It was only George, so I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

As I put them on I let Clancy in on my thoughts, “If I wear these clothes, he probably won’t be consumed with desire for me, and then I wouldn’t have so much fun being cold to him. So perhaps I ought to dress up a bit more.” I looked over my shoulder for her opinion. She agreed.

There really wasn’t much of a choice. I had already worn my power suit several times. Last night I wore my black cocktail dress with the black blazer. I had a brainstorm. Maybe jeans, a black camisole and the black blazer. Yes. Cool, sophisticated, and with just a hint of animal magnetism. I didn’t want to bowl the poor guy over after all.

It was a clear, crisp night, so I put on some snow boots, placed my shoes in my large purse, found my “good” coat and bade farewell to Clancy.

“Clancy, old girl, watch and learn. I’ve had two dates in a row, with two different men. This is something you may never see again in either of our lifetimes.” She raised her head and I swore she rolled her eyes. “Okay, don’t look at me like that. I know the dinner with George isn’t really a date, but it’ll look that way to anyone who is watching, so it will still count. Give me a break.”

I walked slowly to The Rectory, deliberately arriving twenty minutes late so George would be forced to wait for me. Anthony greeted me effusively at the door.

“Sam, what a pleasure. Two nights in a row. Are you meeting someone?”

“Yes, but I don’t see him. Is Detective Lansing here?”

“No, but I do have a reservation in his name for two. Why don’t I seat you and I’ll stay on the lookout for him?”

“Okay, Anthony. And bring me a—”

“Beer in a long neck bottle, no glass.” He chuckled. “Sam, you’ve been coming in here for a long time. I know what you drink by now.”

This felt wonderful. I thought I only moved back to Quincy for the support of my family after my divorce. But I also moved back for this. People who have known me since I was born. People who care about me. There was comfort in being served by a man who knew that I sometimes had wine with dinner, but otherwise it was always beer in a long necked bottle. No glass. Did he suspect the phallic connotations?

The beer arrived quickly. I exchanged my boots for shoes, then I sipped and looked around. The Rectory always had a nice crowd. Some people came for a meal. Some people came for drinks. Some came to ease the loneliness a bit. All came to be catered to by Anthony—a great bear of a man with a heart that filled his entire body.

My mind stayed occupied, just looking around and saying “hello” every now and then to acquaintances. No relatives here tonight.

I finished my beer before I thought to look at my watch. I’d been here over twenty minutes. And that damn George wasn’t here. He stood me up again. He did the same damn thing that he did in high school. This was stupid and I was steaming. I slammed some money on the table for the drink. I wouldn’t stiff Anthony even though I’d been shafted.

Just as I stood up to get my coat, my glance caught the smiling face of The Late One.

I didn’t reciprocate with a smile of my own. “What are you grinning at?”

“I’m happy to see ya, Sam. Why shouldn’t I be smiling?”

“You think it’s funny that you could stand me up again? You think it’s funny that I’m waiting here and you didn’t call?”

His smile disappeared, replaced by a frustrated frown and a furrowed brow. “Did you check your voice mail? Did you check your e-mail? I left a message on both since I was gonna be late and I didn’t want you thinking I was standing you up.”

Feeling stupid was not something I relished, but I did it well. “Sorry, I didn’t check. I just assumed.”

He resumed his original smiling expression. “I recall you’ve always done a lot of assuming. We used to say that you’d die by committing ‘assumicide.’ Why, I remember the time when we were juniors when you—”

I interrupted, “George, I’m not really interested in walking down memory lane with you. It’s lonely there.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Now that we’re middle-aged…” he blanched at my stare, “Now that we’re adults, don’t you think it might be a good idea to get rid of that stiff-necked pride long enough to let me explain what happened on prom night?”

I lifted my empty bottle toward the bartender and ordered a second beer. Feeling magnanimous, I ordered one for George too. “Okay, explain away.” I still wasn’t going to forgive him. After all, I was the one who had been left all dressed up with no place to go. My friends had been solicitous, but that didn’t relieve the pain of being left with my pink organza formal, bunny fur, and high hopes.

He looked me in the eye and without blinking he began. “I was excited about prom too. Don’t talk.” He lifted a hand in a stop signal. “Don’t talk, Sam.”

He stopped me in mid-breath. He knew me well, this old beau of mine.

“I know it’s hard for you to sit and listen. Your specialty is interrupting me and putting words in my mouth.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t get a word out. “Don’t talk.”

Shutting up was hard for me. “Don’t say ‘don’t talk’ again or I’ll explode. I promise I’ll be quiet unless you order me to. If you give me a royal command to shut up, then I’m gonna talk. Deal?”

He smiled in spite of himself. “Deal. Now may I get on with my explanation?”

I nodded. And didn’t talk.

“Okay. I was excited about the prom too. It’s hard for a guy to admit that at any age, but it was especially hard when I was seventeen. But prom was a big deal. Renting that baby blue tux, borrowing my dad’s car, looking forward to some real making out at the all-night party.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You wouldn’t have gotten to second base.”

“I didn’t care. Rounding first was enough for me.” He grinned again and made me forget that I hated the ground he walked on.

He continued. “I was all set to walk out the door when the phone rang. It was my best friend, Cal. His car was stuck in the mud out on Columbus Road and he wanted me to pick him up. Remember that he lived way out in the country?”

“And…?” I arched my eyebrows. This had better be good.

“And he was my best friend and I was a little early, so I drove out there and found him. He was about twelve miles out of town. Now there are lots of houses out that way, but back then there was nothing, no lights, no houses, no phones, no nothing.”

Nothing is what I said.

“His car didn’t look like it was stuck too badly, so instead of just giving him a ride into town, we decided to try to push the car out of the mud. And don’t roll your eyes at me, Sam Darling. We were kids. Maybe we didn’t think it through very well, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

I raised my hand. “May I speak, sir?”

“Skip the sarcasm. It doesn’t become you. It might have been cute when you were a teenager. But, now…” He took my beer bottle that I’d been squeezing the life out of and took the last swig.

“Okay,” I said, “this isn’t about me, it’s about you. So cut to the chase. You and Cal decided to push his car out and you probably fell and got all muddy. You are going to use that as a pathetic excuse for not picking me up for prom. Puh-leeze.” The waiter delivered the beers just in time. I grabbed mine and took a big gulp.

“Do you want to hear the truth, or do you want to continue making the story fit your misguided notions of what happened? We can play it either way.”