Murder Takes a Dare: The First Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 1) (19 page)

Brandon shuddered.

Alex and Marisa exchanged horrified glances.

“Fascinating as this is, you two can worry about running your hospital later. We have the rather more pressing issue of murders to solve.” Russell turned to Brandon. “Let’s start with Jonah coming in the lobby. How did he seem to you?”

With a visible effort, Brandon calmed himself with a deep breath. He closed his eyes. “I was transferring a call when I saw him push his way through the doors. Not even glancing my way, he headed down the hall toward Marisa’s office. I knew Brad Jacobs, the auditor, was in there with her. I don’t like him, and I didn’t want to give him any ammunition he could use against Marisa. I told Jonah to wait, but he didn’t listen. I jumped up, and I tried to stop him. As Marisa can tell you, I was trying to hold him back and he actually dragged me into Marisa’s office. When she said it was okay, I let him go and I went back to the lobby.”

Russell asked the crucial question. “After you got back to your station, who did you see go toward her office?”

Brandon was startled. “I told the police I didn’t see anyone.”

Russell’s face was grim with determination. “When the police questioned you, you were obviously shocked and horrified. When they asked you if you saw anyone, did you form a mental picture of what they were asking you?”

Marisa wiggled in impatience. She wasn’t sure where Russell was headed with his seemingly aimless questions, but she didn’t interrupt. She glanced at Alex. His intent gaze was on Brandon.

The receptionist frowned. “When they asked me the question, of course I visualized a crazed lunatic waving a gun. I’m absolutely positively sure no one like that ran past me.”

Alex and Russell exchanged a significant glance. The CFO leaned forward, his brilliant blue eyes intent on the receptionist’s pale face. “Brandon, think very carefully. Marisa and Jonah were in her office. Did any employees or patients pass your desk? What about visitors from outside the facility? Did the mailman bring in the mail? Did the overnight service bring a package?”

Under his spiky dark hair, Brandon’s high, tanned forehead wrinkled in fierce concentration. “Well, the ambulance driver escorted Mr. Napier into the lobby. The old gentleman had an appointment for therapy. They don’t have a swimming pool at the Home Away from Home nursing home, and he’s scheduled for pool therapy once a week. The ambulance service provides his transportation to and from his appointments.”

Marisa sucked in a breath. No one had told her Mr. Napier was actually in the hospital when Jonah was killed.

Russell gently expelled the breath he was holding. “Very good, Brandon. What happened then?” At Brandon’s puzzled look, he added, “What did the ambulance driver do?”

“You mean Kerry Webber?” Brandon shook his head dismissively. “He did what he always does when he brings in Mr. Napier. He grabbed the newspaper off the counter, and set off at a trot for the bathroom down the hall—” he drew his breath in shock “—down the hall where Marisa’s office is located!”

Marisa, Alex, Amelia, and Brandon all leaped to their feet. “The ambulance driver!” they screamed in unison.

“Calm down, everyone! We’re just beginning, and it’s much too early to jump to conclusions. Now, Brandon, think about Mr. Napier. Where did he go?”

Brandon subsided in his chair. “Mr. Napier? Why, to the pool area, of course, which is located at the end of the west wing, away from Marisa’s office.”

“Did you see him leave the reception area?”

Brandon rubbed his forehead. “No,” he replied slowly. “The phone rang. It was Dr. Swink, and he was in a major tizzy. He said someone from the hospital had just paged him. The doctor practically screamed into my ear I had exactly two minutes to locate whoever had had the audacity to page him while he was on the golf course, or else he was hanging up. By the time I located the poor nursing supervisor who had paged that old curmudgeon and put him through to her extension, the lobby was empty.”

“Think, Brandon. You’ve just hung up the phone. Mr. Napier is nowhere to be seen. Was the lobby completely uninhabited?”

In his excitement, Brandon leaped to his feet. “That slick snake of an auditor!”

“Jacobs,” supplied Marisa.

Brandon snapped his fingers. “Jacobs! He passed the reception counter, muttering something about his umbrella. I called out to him you still had someone in your office, but he pushed his way through the double doors anyway.” Brandon shrugged. “He came right back out, though, and strode through the lobby and down the hallway without another word. I forgot all about him. I didn’t notice if he actually had an umbrella, though. I don’t think he did.”

“Brandon, you’re doing great. Keep your mind focused. Jacobs has left the lobby. What happened then?”

Brandon glanced at Alex. “Mr. Caldwell came into the lobby, looking for Mr. Jacobs. He said he was next on the auditor’s schedule.”

Everyone stared at Alex.

He met the ring of accusing eyes. “What are you all staring at? It’s very simple. He was late. Marisa hadn’t brought him to my office. I thought I’d misunderstood, and I was supposed to go fetch him.” He shrugged. “I must have missed him.”

Russell’s nose was nearly touching Alex’s. “You didn’t tell us you were at the scene when Jonah was killed.”

Alex’s fists clenched in anger.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Russell. Alex didn’t kill Jonah.” Marisa turned to Brandon. “After Alex left, was the lobby empty?”

Brandon shrugged. “Except for the nurse.”Marisa pounced. “What nurse?”

“Well, she must have been taking care of someone in isolation. She was draped in a green gown and scrub pants, her shoes were covered with footies, her hands encased in gloves, her head capped, and her face covered by a surgical mask.”

“You keep saying ‘her.’ How can you be sure? Did she speak to you?” Russell asked patiently.

Brandon slowly shook his head. “No, the switchboard was lit up like a Christmas tree, and I was trying to handle all of the calls. The nurse gave me a little wave and nodded to me. I nodded back as I answered calls.” He tilted his head back, and stared at the ceiling. “I guess I’m referring to her as ‘she’ because most of our nurses are female.”

“Did the person go back toward the nursing unit?” Marisa questioned tersely.

“No, no, she—or he—didn’t.” Brandon’s eyes were wide in his pale face as he raised his shaking hands. “The person disappeared through the double doors of the hallway toward Marisa’s office! Oh, God, was that the murderer?”

* * * * *

In the cool summer night, Marisa threw up her hands. “I cannot believe it! Brandon originally told the police he didn’t see anyone while Jonah was in my office. Then, after careful questioning, he remembers a veritable herd of suspicious people stampeding through the reception area!”

Grinning at her exaggeration, Russell leaned against his Jeep, shadowy under the streetlight. “After a horrible, cold-blooded murder, it’s human nature to picture the perpetrator as an insane, wild-eyed lunatic, his hair standing on end, vastly different from ourselves. I knew there was a possibility Brandon had visualized such a savage, nightmarish form. When the receptionist told the police he hadn’t seen the murderer, he was telling the truth, based upon the picture he had formed in his own mind.”

Alex’s voice was tight with excitement. “We certainly have several suspects to follow up on. The mysterious nurse...we’ll have to try to find out who it could be.”

Russell nodded. “And the ambulance driver, what was his name, Kerry Webber, could be involved or may have seen something. We should be able to get his home address from the medical transportation service.”

“And Clay Napier, the handsome, man-about-town of the nursing home. Where did he go? Did he innocently toddle off to his therapy in the rehabilitation wing, or did he head down that hallway to gun down Jonah?”

Russell sighed. “Marisa, I think you’re prejudiced against that harmless old man. He’s mysterious, but—”

“But that doesn’t make him a murderer,” Alex finished.

Marisa shook her head. “Maybe you’re right. It is difficult to imagine the dapper nursing home resident barging in and gunning down Jonah! Besides, he had plenty of opportunities to kill Jonah at the nursing home.”

Russell interjected, “What about that Jacobs fellow Brandon mentioned?”

His face in shadow, Alex said without inflection, “He’s an auditor sent in by the corporate office. He’s been arrogant and rude to everyone at the hospital, staff and management alike, but he’s also from out of state. What motive could he have?”

“Marisa, I want you to stay at my house tonight.” Russell and Alex spoke at the same time.

Marisa stiffened. “No way. I am totally safe at my own house.”

Russell bared his teeth at Alex. “No need for both of us to offer. Marisa can stay with me.”

Alex growled back, “No trouble, I have plenty of room for her.”

Marisa was too tired to fight them. Heaving a huge sigh, she waved the white flag of surrender. “You can both stay at my house. I’ll warn you now, though, I have a roommate. He’s very demanding; in fact, he thinks he’s in charge. His name is Laithe.”

“Roommate?”

In spite of her exhaustion, Marisa smiled at the consternation in their voices. “Laithe is my Abyssinian cat. He’s Egyptian, with long, slender legs like a rabbit, an extra-long tail, pointy ears like an elf, and a very mischievous personality.”

Marisa started for the Jeep door, and then turned back to them. “And by the way, while you’re staying in my house, don’t leave any paper lying around.”

“Why not?” asked Alex.

“Because he hates to see paper left lying around the house. He shreds it with his teeth and claws.”

Alex laughed. “A cat who hates paper. A feline after my own heart.”

* * * * *

In her home office, Marisa patted the blankets smooth on the sofa bed she had just made up for Alex. Russell was safely settled on the couch downstairs in the living room.

“Hey, you hauled me to the wrestling show so you could talk to me. What was so blasted important you’d risk a kidnapping sentence?”

Alex rose from his seat on her desk. He stood so close Marisa could see the darker blue rings around his irises. He put his hands on her shoulders.

Marisa wondered if he was going to kiss her. Would she like it? Or would it weird her out? She stifled a giggle. No way to know until it happened. She lifted her chin a fraction.

Alex took a deep breath. “Someone is embezzling from the hospital.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate. Marisa gasped. “Embezzling!” She remembered the large group of employees with Louisiana backgrounds. “I was looking at some employee records that struck me as strange—”

Alex nodded. “Someone set up fake employees in the system. The hours were entered into the system manually. Then, the pay for those hours was transferred electronically by direct deposit…all to the same account.”

“Our computer system was configured to show the user name of anyone who entered information. It’s an electronic fingerprint, if you will. But you know all of that. Whose user name is it?”

Alex heaved a deep breath. “Mine.”

“Yeeeeooooowwwwwww!”

The masculine scream reached Marisa’s ears as she fastened her worn blue jeans. Hurriedly buttoning her cool, pastel print blouse, she ran down the steps, flew the length of the hall, and into the kitchen.

Russell was standing in her kitchen, his chest heaving. He and Laithe appeared to be in the midst of a standoff.

“What in heaven’s name is going on in here?”

Russell’s head jerked toward her. He pointed a large spoon at the orange cat.

“The demon cat from hell attacked my leg! Look!”

His dress pants were ripped by three, long angry scratches, extending from his knee nearly to his ankle.

Alex, seated at Marisa’s small, square oak table, laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’ll live, Russell. Quit your yowling.”

Laithe gracefully sauntered over to Marisa, and innocently rubbed against her leg.

Blood welled in Russell’s scratches.

Marisa bent over to scoop up Laithe. “I should have warned you, he’s very playful in the mornings.” She snuggled him close to her body, his paws on her shoulders. He rubbed his triangular face against hers and purred. Marisa lovingly stroked his fur, noticing the shades of orange and brown, more like deer pelt than cat fur. “If you don’t pet him, he decides to take action to get your attention.”

Reluctantly, Marisa put him down to dig in a drawer. She pulled out a box of adhesive bandages and a tube of antibiotic ointment. She squished down the disordered contents of the drawer and slammed it closed. She tossed the first aid supplies to Russell. She turned to her phone, plugged into the charger on her counter, and pressed buttons. “Things have gotten so complicated I think we need to make a list.”

Russell glanced up from his first aid activities. “A list?”

Marisa’s thumbs flew on the keys. “Yes, a list. Number one, we need to run down the ambulance driver.”

Alex snorted.

“Figuratively, smart ass, not literally. Second, we need to interview Zoe’s mother, Renee. We never spoke with her. Remember, the policeman at the station said her husband was about to be arrested. Then, he turns up dead. They assume he was executed due to his perversions.”

“If Zoe was a victim of her father, it could help explain her chaotic lifestyle.” Alex’s voice was full of sympathy and regret.

“Third on our list, we need to talk to Henry Worthington. He heads the Church of the Eternal Devotion. He tried to convert Zoe. Was he trying to help her, or were his motives darker?”

“And, don’t forget, Jonah was running searches on ministers who embezzled funds,” Russell interjected.

Confused, Alex shook his head.

Interrupting each other, Marisa and Russell brought him up to date on their searches of Jonah’s and Zoe’s apartments.

Alex caught Marisa’s gaze and twisted his head inquiringly toward Russell.

Marisa raised her eyebrows.

Irritated, Alex rolled his eyes and tersely jerked his head toward Russell.

Marisa shook her head and shrugged.

Russell’s voice made her jump. “Alright, you two, what’s the secret conference about?”

Marisa sniffed. “I have no idea. Perhaps seeing Brandon’s bony butt bare-ass naked last night gave him a twitch.”

“Marisa, I swear, sometimes you are so hard-headedly dense. It’s your fault I have to say this out loud. Do you want to tell Russell about your uncle?”

“My uncle?” Marisa’s voice rose. “I thought your signal was about the embezzlement!”

Russell threw himself into a vacant chair. “Your uncle? Embezzlement!”

Alex threw up his hands. “Marisa and I grew up in the same small town. About thirty years ago, she had an uncle who got himself into some trouble.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned. “I hadn’t thought about Uncle Christian in years.”

Russell growled, “What are you talking about?”

“Not enough coffee, Russell?” Alex smirked as Laithe rubbed his way past Alex’s leg.

Before Russell could get violent, Marisa plunged into the story. “My father had a half brother, named Christian. He wasn’t really much older than I. He wasn’t even twenty when he was offered the reins of a large church.”

Russell’s head tilted to once side. “He was very young to be given such responsibility.”

“He seemed to have won the post with a combination of angelic good looks, convincing shouts of fire and brimstone, and a personal charisma particularly effective on older women.”

“This is an interesting look into your family history, but I have a feeling there’s more to this story.”

“Christian absconded with the church building fund.”

Russell sucked in his breath.

Marisa glanced at Alex. “He didn’t just leave with the sizable building fund. He also took the wealthiest parishioner, a widow of close to sixty, with him.”

“What happened to them?”

“A few weeks later, the widow turned back up in town, dazed and no longer wealthy. He stripped her of her money, every penny, and left her behind in a small town in Indiana. She had managed to scrape up bus fare to get back to Kentucky.”

“Did they find him?”

“In a manner of speaking. They found his car at the bottom of a ravine adjacent to a farm in Indiana. The car and the body inside were burned beyond recognition. Everyone assumed the money he’d taken from the church and from the widow was burned as well.”

“Remember, that story was saved on Jonah’s computer!” Russell frowned. “If I were investigating the old story, I would find the embezzler’s dramatic death, with no identifiable corpse and no sign of the money, very suspect.”

Alex interjected, “I think we need to add digging up the details to our to-do list.”

Russell appeared to drag his thoughts away from the compelling puzzle. “And we need to try and figure out the identity of the ‘nurse’ Brandon saw, but I’m not sure how we do that.”

The rattling of the screen door caused all three of them to jump.

As Marisa rose, the knocking escalated to irritated pounding.

Alex, Russell, and Marisa exchanged surprised glances. Marisa shrugged. Russell rose from his chair and assumed a defensive position next to the door. Alex bent over in his chair to stifle his laughter at the sight of Russell with his fists in the air.

She pulled back the curtain, and then sighed in relief. “It’s Verna, my next-door neighbor. I should have known she would see your Jeep in my driveway.”

Russell raised an eyebrow and lowered his hands.

Marisa waved a dismissive hand. “Verna is the epitome of the nosy neighbor. She keeps an eye on things by working in her yard, and she gathers intelligence by walking her dog and speaking to everyone she can corner in the neighborhood. If she sees a strange car in my driveway, she invents an excuse to find out who it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if she keeps a log of her interrogations and surveillance activities.”

Marisa hauled open the door, arresting the next round of knocking.

Her neon bright turquoise shorts and sleeveless top streaked with dirt, the little octogenarian hopped through the opening. With her short gray hair slicked straight back from her forehead, her elongated head, and her large, hooked nose, she looked like a tiny bird. As her head bobbed in excitement, Verna reminded Marisa of a toy bird, perpetually swinging up and down to drink.

“Marisa! How are you? I haven’t seen your dear little orange kitty in the window lately, and I was worried about him. Oh, there he is!” She advanced toward the cat.

The ‘dear little orange kitty’ skittered around Verna sideways, and hissed at her.

“Laithe is really not a social cat, Verna.”

Undeterred, Verna trotted over to Laithe, her birdlike head bobbing in anticipation. His tail puffed up to the size of an industrial feather duster and his back arched. His hissing escalated to yowling.

“We were just getting ready to leave.” Marisa gripped Verna’s arm firmly, and propelled her to the door. Marisa tried to shut the door as Verna protested, “Hold on, Marisa, I did not get to meet your  friends—”

Alex leaped to his feet. “I’ll help you out, Mrs… er … Verna. It looks like you’ve been gardening.” The two passed through the door.

Marisa turned to Russell with relief. “I don’t think I could take much more of her!” Marisa realized Russell was looking at her very directly. “What?”

Russell pulled Marisa to the window. He delicately lifted strands of her hair and held them to the sunlight. “When you’re not directly in the sun, the coppery highlights in your hair are totally invisible. They only come alive out of the shadows.”

Russell dropped the strands of hair and gently tilted her face up. “You lived a double life. One was the chaotic excitement of drinking and the club. The other was the order of your life as a conservative human resources manager. You chose, for a time, to live your life both in the sunshine of order and the shadows of chaos. If you ever think you chose the dull and boring life, remember the fire the sun brings to your hair.”

Russell pulled her closer.

Marisa could feel the beating of his heart against her chest. Instinctively, she touched his arms, and found them firm and warm and strong. She couldn’t look away from his intent gaze behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

He angled his head, and touched his mouth to hers.

His lips were butterfly soft. 

Marisa felt her heart expand, and her breath stopped. She placed her hands tentatively on his shoulders, and pulled him close. His chest and legs were hard, with his stomach a soft squish against hers.

The squish! Now would be the time to see if his pudgy belly was his own, or a disguise. She allowed her hands to drift toward his stomach.

Russell pushed her away so hard she nearly fell. 

The kitchen door opened and Alex glided into the kitchen. “What did I miss?”

At the same time, Russell yelped.

Marisa looked down.

Laithe had his claws hooked in the bandage on Russell’s leg, playfully trying to rip it off.

Hard pounding rattled the door.

“Verna back to gather more information?” Russell tried to pull away from the determined cat.

Marisa recognized the impatience behind the knock. “I wish it were Verna,” she sighed.

The young man who swaggered into the kitchen brought with him the smell of stale whiskey, old cigarette smoke, and a whiff of vomit.

“Marisa!” His jeans streaked with dirt and grease, and his t-shirt stained with unidentifiable spots, he strode toward Marisa. His large, filthy athletic shoes left clumps of dirt in their wake.

With a pirouetting agility, Marisa sidestepped the exuberant hug. “Mosely. What do you want?”

The thin face splotched by sparse patches of stubble hardened. The bloodshot eyes narrowed in calculation. “You know I prefer Lee, not that terrible name Mom thought sounded so romantic. No hug from my favorite sister?” The smile revealed a missing canine tooth, with the remainder of the teeth mottled with decay.

Marisa’s mind filled with a sudden vision of Mosely as a little boy, the front of his t-shirt wet and wrinkled. He’d compulsively chewed the neckline of his shirts, as other people would gnaw fingernails or a child would suck his thumb. Their father ridiculing Mosely for his constant, allergy induced dripping nose. “Sheep leg” had been their father’s derisive term for the drip.

Avoiding Alex and Russell’s gazes, Marisa faced her brother. “I’m your only sister, and you only come here when you want something. What is it?”

Mosely shrugged, giving up the pretense of happy, healthy family dynamics. “Gotta have money for the weekend.”

A kaleidoscope of images tumbled through her mind. Her mother, pregnant with her little brother. As a five-year-old, Marisa had watched in horror as her father had beaten her mother. In his drunken rage, her father had smashed his fist into her mother’s face and into her stomach. He hadn’t loved or wanted the children he already had. He didn’t want to add another whining brat to the brood. A few months later, Mosely had been born, his feet and ankles horribly deformed.

Marisa’s heart ached for the little boy he’d been. She tried to harden her heart against the man her little brother had become. “I noticed in the online edition of the newspaper a company is renovating some buildings downtown and needs laborers. I’m sure if you run by there, they’ll gladly put you to work.”

“Marisa, you know I can’t work. I still have pain in my legs. I’m working on getting disability.”

She closed her eyes against the images of Mosely in a wheelchair, his tiny body swallowed by the chair, both legs and feet in hard, white casts. “Corseer Children’s Charities fixed your legs, Mosely. Remember all those surgeries? The doctors and nurses went to a lot of trouble to ensure they’re perfectly fine.”

Mosely’s face hardened in calculation. “If you don’t want to give me money, dear sister, then I’ll just have a seat here at this table with your fancy friends. We can talk over old times. I’m sure they’d love to hear all about those old times.”

Clenching her fists, Marisa felt the familiar wave of hot shame wash over her. She knew it was wrong to give him money to get him to leave, but she didn’t want Russell to hear the details of her childhood. Since Alex had grown up with her, he already knew. Marisa reached for her purse.