Cut to the Corpse (11 page)

“Hank!” she called in her sternest voice. “Did you eat the macaroons?”

He lowered his head and put his paws over his nose.

“Oh, isn’t he precious?” Sarah asked.

“No, he is not,” Brenna said. “Especially if he throws up all night long. You are in time-out, mister.”

He gave her his best sad-eyed look, but Brenna just pointed at the wall and said, “Go.”

Hank slunk off of his bed and sat on his haunches, facing the wall.

“How long will he sit like that?” Sarah asked. She looked worried, and Brenna remembered she had three dogs of her own and doted on them.

“Just for a few minutes,” Brenna reassured her.

As if he knew there was a sucker in the room, Hank turned his head to gaze at them over his shoulder, looking just pitiful.

“Oh, look how sorry he is,” Sarah said.

“Yeah, all of my boys have mastered that look,” Lillian said. “He’s playing you. Don’t fall for it.”

Brenna smiled. Lillian might talk tough, but her boys were her life. In fact, Brenna noticed her picture puzzle was all photos of her boys.

“Hank, are you ready to come out of time-out?” Brenna asked. His tail thumped on the ground. “All right, but behave.”

He trotted to sit beside her and as he leaned against her, he licked her hand. Brenna couldn’t help but scratch his head. She wasn’t spoiling him, really.

“He really is a good dog,” Margie Haywood said. “Jake should have had a dog like that growing up, maybe then he wouldn’t have become friends with—”

Her voice cracked and she ducked her head. Brenna saw several tears stream down her cheeks and she quickly grabbed a tissue out of a nearby box and handed it to her.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Margie said. She quickly gathered her purse and left the shop without a backward glance.

“Poor thing,” Marie said. “This should have been the happiest time of her life, planning her son’s wedding, and instead, he might go to jail for murdering his best friend.”

“What?” Tenley asked. “But that’s ridiculous. Jake Haywood would never hurt anyone and definitely not his best friend, no matter what that friend did to him.”

The room was silent. Brenna knew they were all thinking about being in Jake’s shoes, about being betrayed by the two people they loved most. Honestly, she thought that could drive anyone to commit murder, even a man as nice as Jake Haywood.

As the others departed and the Porter sisters lingered, Brenna decided it was a good time to tap in to their collective knowledge about the residents of Morse Point, specifically Clue Parker.

She sidled over to Tenley, who was gathering the dishes off of the refreshment table.

“Do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything but take the macaroon-barfing dog to my house,” she said.

“He’s got a stomach made of iron,” Brenna assured her. “I think he only barfs healthy food like broccoli or carrots. Anyway, that’s not it. What I need you to do is find out everything Marie knows about Clue Parker while I do the same with Ella.”

“Separate the dynamic duo? Why?”

“I think we’ll get more accurate information that way.”

“Ella is the tougher nut,” Tenley said.

“I know. Nice of me to let you have Marie, yes?”

“Very,” Tenley agreed. “Marie, could you help me in the break room with these dishes?”

“Certainly, dear,” Marie said and followed Tenley into the back.

Brenna sat across the table from Ella. Together they cleared the tabletop of photo scraps and sticky glue spots.

“So, Ella, did you know the Parker family very well?”

Ella glanced up from her sponge and narrowed her gaze at Brenna.

“As well as anyone and better than most, I expect,” she said.

“Good family?”

“Humph,” Ella snorted. “If you consider a father who pickled himself in a whiskey bottle every day and a mother who lifted her skirt for anything in pants good.”

“So, Clue had a rough childhood?”

“In every way except for his friendship with Jake,” she said. “Jake protected him as much as he could, brought him home every day and made sure he was fed. Clue practically grew up at the Haywoods’. They took him in as if he was their own, although I know Margie didn’t approve of his wild womanizing ways.”

Brenna was silent while Ella gathered her thoughts.

“Clue would have turned out much worse if it weren’t for Jake. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have survived his teen years at all. But Jake kept him out of trouble and got him a job at the paper factory over in Milstead. He’s been there since he graduated high school, which he never would have managed if Jake hadn’t dragged him to school with him.”

“The Milstead Paper Factory?” Brenna said. “I thought he worked at the Brass Rail as a bouncer.”

“He did both,” Ella said. “He had to pay for all those fancy motorbikes of his somehow.”

“I suppose,” Brenna said.

“Thanks for your help, Marie,” Tenley said as they reentered the shop.

“My pleasure,” Marie said. “Well, Sis, are you ready to go?”

Ella glanced at Brenna and nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good night, ladies,” Tenley said as she locked the door behind them.

She switched off the main lights and she and Brenna went to the break room to gather their things before slipping out the back.

“Come on, Hank,” Brenna called.

He wagged his way across the room, happy to be in her good graces again. Brenna clipped on his leash and they stepped out into the warm evening air. Tenley locked the door after them.

“So, what did you get?” Tenley asked as they made their way up the alley.

“The only thing new is that he worked at the paper mill over in Milstead.”

“I got that, too,” Tenley said. “And according to Marie, they had a falling out over a girl a few years back.”

Brenna stopped short. “Tell.”

“You remember the girl we talked about, the one who used to ride around the town green on the back of Clue’s bike but left to go be a chef in Boston?”

“Lisa Sutton,” Brenna said.

“That’s right. Well, apparently, she left because she was in love with Jake,” Tenley said. “She threw herself at him and he turned her down because of his friendship with Clue. Clue didn’t quite see it that way and blamed Jake for driving her away. She is the only woman known to have rejected Clue, and he didn’t take it well.”

“How did you get all this and I didn’t?”

“You know Marie has a weakness for love stories, especially of the unrequited kind.”

“True. Ella is more hard facts,” Brenna agreed. “You don’t think Clue seduced Tara to get even, do you?”

Tenley shrugged. “People do crazy things when it comes to love.”

They reached their cars and Brenna pressed her key fob until her Jeep unlocked with a click. She opened the passenger side for Hank to jump up into and then walked around the front.

“So, I was thinking I’d drive out to the paper mill tomorrow,” she said.

“Great. I’ve been planning to go and check them out for the shop,” Tenley said. “Here at eight o’clock?”

“See you then,” Brenna agreed with a grin.

She would have argued, but Tenley had that stubborn Morse set to her chin, and Brenna knew there would be no shaking her. Besides, with Tenley along, she really could be checking out the mill for the shop, so if it happened to get back to Chief Barker that she was there, it was as innocent as buttercups and daisies.

 

The white clouds being exhaled from the mill’s smokestacks made the factory easy to spot even against the morning’s overcast sky.

Tenley sipped her latte to-go from Stan’s Diner while Brenna drove her Jeep down the winding road that led to the mill.

Nestled on the banks of the Milstead River, the mill looked like a complicated puzzle of large rectangular buildings, concrete slabs, steel silos, and pipes. Up close, it was even more intimidating.

Brenna pulled up to the security gate and rolled down her window. A man with a clipboard looked at them and they both turned the wattage of their smiles up to blinding.

“Can I help you?” he asked. Brenna wasn’t sure, but he looked to be in his midforties, with thinning hair and the requisite middle-aged paunch, which he was valiantly trying to suck in behind his waistband.

“Hi, we’re from Vintage Papers over in Morse Point,” Brenna said. “We’re here to visit your showroom.”

“Go right ahead.” He gestured toward the large lot. “Public parking is on the left.”

“Thank you,” they both said.

As Brenna drove away, she watched in the rearview mirror as he sagged back into his post. She wished she could have asked him about Clue, but probably starting with security was not the best plan.

She parked in the lot marked Visitors and she and Tenley climbed out. They had worked on their cover story over their lattes earlier, and she was going to let Tenley, as the owner of Vintage Papers, take the lead.

Basically, Tenley was looking to get into the office supply business and could she work a deal with them since they were both local
yada yada yada
. Brenna was just hoping to poke around and find a gossipy salesperson or two who could tell her what Clue was like on the job.

They walked into the main lobby, which was also their storefront, to find it full, hip to hip, with people wearing hard hats. A woman in professional attire, a navy blue business skirt with a white ruffled blouse, and navy heels, waved to them over the crowd.

“Are you here for the tour?”

Brenna and Tenley exchanged a look.

“Yes,” they said together.

“Great,” the woman chirped. She had a hard hat cradled under her arm and she plunked it on her short brunette head as she said, “I’m Sally. Name tags and hard hats are on the counter. Suit up and follow us.”

With that she pushed through the double doors into a long hallway. Tenley took two hard hats, while Brenna wrote their names on the self-adhesive “Hello, my name is . . .” badges.

Tenley glanced at hers. “Patty?” Then she looked at Brenna’s. “And Selma? Lovely.”

“Don’t blow our cover, Patty,” Brenna chided.

Tenley rolled her eyes.

They trailed behind the group, listening to Sally talk about the history of the paper mill as they went. The group stopped beside a large floor to ceiling poster of an artist’s rendering of the first mill.

“Built in 1848, the mill is one of the oldest in the country,” Sally began. “There were thirty-nine employees at the time it opened producing two thousand pounds of paper per day.”

The group worked their way past several more pictures and Sally spoke of the impact of the Civil and World wars on the paper industry.

Brenna had to admit, despite her interest in finding out about Clue, it was a fascinating bit of American history.

Glass display cases lined the walls, showing examples of some of the products the paper made by the mill was used for over the years; McGuffy Readers for schoolchildren and the old
Morse Point Courier
. Ed Johnson, the current editor of the
Courier
, had caused Brenna quite a bit of grief a few months back, but he had mellowed considerably after she rescued him from being the next victim of a murderer.

Brenna and Tenley exchanged a look. Brenna was sure she was thinking about Ed, too, before they followed the group down the hall.

“Next we have our executive offices,” Sally said. “This is where the day-to-day operations are overseen.”

They entered a room sectioned off by cubicles. Brenna slowed to look at one that had a row of troll dolls with bright-colored hair looking down on the occupant.

A matronly woman with stylish gray hair wearing reading glasses looked up at her and winked. “Good-luck charms. They ward off evil bosses.”

Brenna laughed. Tenley lowered an eyebrow at her and said, “Don’t get any ideas.”

Phones were ringing and the sound of fingers clacking against computer keyboards filled the room against a backdrop of people chatter. It certainly seemed like a happy, prosperous place.

Sally led them across the room into a large break room. Coffee and doughnuts and a bowl of fresh fruit had been put out on a far table. Brenna felt her stomach rumble, but she tried to ignore it. A set of windows looked over the woods beyond the plant, and on the other side of the room another set of windows looked down on the plant below.

Sally paused by the windows overlooking the plant. “For the safety of everyone on the tour, we’ll be overseeing the plant operations from a steel catwalk. It is mostly enclosed, but there are sections that are open. If anyone here has a fear of heights, you might want to wait as we’ll be ending the twenty-minute tour right here in this room.”

“How high is the catwalk?” a woman asked. She was tall and thin, wearing a beige business suit and looking ill at ease.