Death Loves a Messy Desk (24 page)

“Sure thing. Is Jack coming, too?”

Pepper looked uncomfortable, although I told myself that could have been the bump. “No.”

“Oh. Didn’t they call him?”

I noticed that she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I guess they couldn’t reach him.”

“Right,” I said brightly. “He’s been involved in this bicycle race, hard to connect with him lately.”

“Exactly,” Pepper said, sounding relieved for some reason. “When you do get home, you’ll rest and recover from your head injury, and then you’ll just go about your own business. No more nosing around. You see where it leads. Right?”

“For sure,” I said.

I meant it, too. There was no way I’d have anything else to do with anyone at Quovadicon. But it bothered me that I still had no idea what Sergeant Pepper Monahan really knew about the brutal killing of one woman and the disappearance of another.

I jerked awake in a foggy state and gasped as a pair of icy blue eyes sent a chill down my spine.

“Don’t get up,” a voice said from the chair next to the hospital bed. The voice had a cool edge to it, too. Nothing warm and fuzzy about this visitor.

“Gaak,” I said, struggling to sit up.

“Sorry?”

“My head is spinning again,” I said, speaking more cogently this time.

“I’m Detective Connor Tierney with the Woodbridge police.” He was sitting, fiddling with his silver keys, but Margaret was watching quietly from the sidelines.

“I’ve seen you on television,” I said, trying not to be hypnotized as the keys spun in his hand. Up close, I could see that the keychain was a silver lion’s head.

“Hmm. I’ve seen you on the news, too.”

“None of that was my fault,” I said.

“It’s never my fault, either,” he countered. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened today. Are you up for that?”

“I guess so. Nick Monahan already interviewed me. Am I still a suspect? Are you going to haul me in for questioning? You’d better check with the doctor first. And my lawyer . . .”

“You won’t be hauled anywhere. Nick Monahan is—”

“Special, I know.”

“I’ve read your statement. You said you misplaced your cell phone.”

“I did not make that phone call in order to clear the building so I could bludgeon Dyan with a stapler.”

“Glad to hear it. We do know that the call came from your cell, so work with me here and let’s try to figure out where it could have been taken from you.”

“Taken from me? Oh. I thought my dogs hid it. They do things like that. They’re very cute, though. I love them a lot and—”

“I know you’ve had a blow to the head, but let’s assume your dogs didn’t make this call. I’m guessing they don’t talk. So who had access to your cell phone?”

I stared back at him. He was better looking in person than on television. But he still made me nervous. Pepper didn’t seem to like him, and I’d had the impression that she didn’t trust him, either. That sure didn’t make it easier for me to open up. At any rate, I still couldn’t remember. I shook my head.

“Try.”

“I have an incredible headache,” I said, trying to ignore the pounding in my skull.

Fifteen minutes later, I still hadn’t remembered. Connor Tierney reached into his well-tailored pocket. A different suit, I noticed despite the headache, from the ones I’d seen on television. Classy, well-cut. Not at all Woodbridge. He handed me a business card.

“Think about it,” he said. “Give me a call if you remember.”

“I’m trying. Whoever did that wanted me to look guilty.”

He raised a pale orange eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

He made me very nervous. I found myself talking way too much. “Why did they bother to hit me on the head? Who ever heard of a self-clobbering suspect?”

He stood up to leave and tucked the keys into his pocket. “Think about that cell phone. And if I were you, I’d make sure I wasn’t alone.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Margaret said.

Even though I felt better when I got home, Margaret insisted she’d sleep on the sofa bed in the living room. There was no sign of Jack, and anyway, I might need a lawyer, she added.

The next morning I began the day by sitting up in bed and cuddling with my dogs. Sally arrived to take over. She made me breakfast in bed. Hot buttered wheat toast with homemade strawberry jam and a giant mug of hot chocolate all arrived on a tray. That distracted me as she moved the television set into the bedroom. Margaret spent her time on the phone doing business, but she must have cleared her parents’ convenience store out of Mars bars. I found that endearing. Our friends Rose and Lilith phoned from L.A. I gathered that Sally had texted Lilith with the news. It all helped, including knowing that the Mars bars would be there for snacks. I needed to keep up my strength.

Still no sign of Jack. I pretended that I wasn’t pouting about that.

As the headache faded, I distracted myself by checking through my agenda and trying to assess whether my weekend appointments would need to be rescheduled. While my nose was in the agenda, I worked through my schedule and tried to figure out when I had last seen the phone.

I’d had it to try to call towing before Mel and Del showed up. That reminded me about them. Were they really employees of Quovadicon, or had Fredelle lied about that, too? I made a note to myself to mention it to Connor Tierney when I called him about the phone.

I’d used the cell to call Margaret about a spontaneous dinner the night she had the date. I’d first noticed the phone missing when I was outside the police station, and I’d searched my apartment afterward. Where had I been in between? A lot of my activities hadn’t been in my agenda, as they fitted under the “spontaneous snooping” category. I’d been to Barb’s apartment, but I hadn’t used the phone. Nor had it been out of my possession. I’d been to Sally’s place. Though one of the children might have played with it, they couldn’t have made a phone call to clear Quovadicon.

I’d been to Pepper’s. I’d left her alone with the phone when I got the Oreos. I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak my phone to see if I’d called her sleazy husband, but again, why would she make the Quovadicon call?

Then I’d returned to Barb’s apartment, but again, no way to lose the phone there.

I’d spent time with Robbie, but he hadn’t been alone with my handbag. I’d been to the library to see Ramona. Ditto.

After that, I’d gone back to Quovadicon. I left my handbag and briefcase in the public area for a couple of minutes while I rushed after Fredelle. Anyone could have swiped my cell phone then. There’d been a lot of extra people milling about the office that day. Could one of the clients or suppliers have taken it?

Dyan could have taken the cell and faked the call herself. She was nosy and bold and didn’t seem to understand the notion of boundaries.

Autumn was such an airhead that she wouldn’t have noticed any or all of them rummaging through my possessions. If Autumn had seen Dyan, she might have been too intimidated to question her.

Just in case, I made a note to myself to ask her.

At one point I’d chased after Missy in Hannaford’s and left my cart behind, complete with handbag where anyone could have rifled through it. That meant the entire population of Woodbridge and neighboring communities could have swiped it, although logically, I knew it had to be someone involved in this case, especially as the thief had left my wallet with cash, ID, and credit cards.

I bit my lip at this. People were right. Leaving my handbag where anyone could get it? How dumb was that? Obviously, I was losing it over this whole business with Barb Douglas.

I picked up my phone and called Connor Tierney’s number. It went straight to voice mail. I left a message saying where the handbag had been out of my sight, although I hesitated before including Hannaford’s. What kind of flake leaves her handbag alone in a supermarket? Of course, I was pretty sure he already thought I was a flake. And I prefer to be a flake than a suspect, any time.

After that, I took out my frustrations by building a case against the people who seemed to be involved with most aspects of this troubling case. I jotted my points down on separate pages in my spiral notebook. I discounted Paula and Jim as well as Missy early on. The only thing against either of them was that they knew Barb and had been near my purse. That left Fredelle and Robbie. It helped that I was really ticked off at both of them.

I obsessed over both lists. Robbie seemed more likely than Fredelle, but there was no question they were both behaving erratically. But really, Fredelle seemed so kind and gentle and Robbie so inept it was hard to take them seriously. Deep down, ticked off or not, I hoped that neither one had shot the man in the Impala or caused Barb to disappear. Not to mention killing Dyan and injuring me.

I turned to Sally. “I wonder if I should just give these lists to Pepper.”

“Why bother? She’s being a total bitch,” she said.