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Authors: Diane Fanning

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Serial Killers, #Crime Fiction

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BOOK: Punish the Deed
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“Pretty much. Her car was the only one in the lot besides Mr. Nguyen’s when the first officers arrived on the scene.”

“You haven’t told her husband?”

“Can’t find him, Superintendent. Have you got any ideas about that?”

“Have you checked the lab where he works?”

“Sure have. He’s not there. He’s not at home. We have no idea where he might be.”

“So you think . . . No, no, Lieutenant. Not Conrad. He adored his wife. And he put up with a lot.”

“What do you mean by that, Superintendent?”

“She works all the time. She stood up Conrad at company events and on social occasions. Shoot, if the poor man won a Nobel prize, she’d probably miss the flight to Sweden.”

“Do you encourage your employees to work that hard, Superintendent?”

“She’s not my employee. Sure, she works in my building and provides a program in my schools but she’s not on the district payroll. She works for Communities in Schools, a non-profit organization with its own local board of directors.”

“Are you on that board, Mr. Irving?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But I’m just one of nine members.”

“Why are you trying to distance yourself from the victim?”

“I’m not.”

Lucinda’s shot up an eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh, really?”

“Look, Lieutenant, I have to distance the school district from this crime.”

Lucinda laughed. “Mr. Irving, the
crime
happened in your building. The list of possible suspects includes every one of your employees.”

“I know. I know. But I have a board to answer to, too.”

“Okay, Superintendent. Let’s get down to basics. Can you think of anyone who’d want Shari Fleming dead?”

“No. She was idolized. The social workers she hired to work at each school acted like they were working for Mother Teresa. The teachers and administrative staff think she walks on water. The parents of our at-risk students treat her like she’s omnipotent.”

“But you, Superintendent? You don’t seem to share their unqualified adoration of Ms. Fleming.”

“Listen, she was fabulous. She was dedicated. She really cared about our at-risk students. But like I said, she worked too hard. She was supposed to be an administrator and quite frankly, she was too hands-on. I tried to counsel her to focus on her job, which in some ways is just like mine; but she always wanted to get involved with the work in each of the schools, with parents in the schools. She instituted a number of remarkably successful programs, but she could have turned over some of the responsibility to staff once she got them up and running.”

“Like what, Superintendent?”

“Well, she set up an annual field trip with the kindergarten classes. She’d take these little at-risk guys and as many parents as she could cajole into attending to an area college or university and give them a tour. It was the first time a lot of these parents – many of them high school drop-outs – ever considered the possibility of college for their children. Over the years, many students, who might never have graduated from high school, went on to four-year schools. She credits the parents’ involvement from an early age. She says that’s the key to every child’s success.”

“You doubt that?”

“I think it’s one of the keys.”

“Okay. Did you ever have any other problems with her?”

“When she was in the office, she had a constant stream of parents before, during and after office hours.”

“Aren’t you all here to serve the community, Superintendent?”

“Yes, but it’s usually handled on the school level. People who work here go to the schools to meet with the parents. With the exception of the ones coming to see Shari, they rarely come here except for when the school board meets each month.”

“She’d let parents in here after hours when no one else was in the building? She had her own key?”

“Yes, to both questions.”

“Are there any parents who might hold a grudge against her? Who might be dissatisfied?”

“I know where you’re going with that, Lieutenant. But I can’t say that I’ve heard of anyone. I could ask her staff. They might know of someone.”

“You do that, Superintendent. That’s all for now.”

“Can I go down to my office and get to work?” Irving asked.

“Oh no, sir. You just go back to the meeting room. We may need to talk to you again.”

Irving opened his mouth to object, shook his head and walked away. Before Lucinda could return to the room to fetch another interview subject, her cell phone rang.

“Lieutenant, we found Conrad Fleming’s car.”

Seven

 

Ted stepped into the doorway of the conference and asked, “Is the Human Resources Director present?”

A woman in a red suit exhaled a long “yes” as she uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet. Placing one hand on her hip and tilting back her head, she added, “I’m all yours, Officer.”

“That’s Sergeant Branson, ma’am. And your name?”

“Monica,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Ted scrawled on a pad of paper as he asked, “Last name?”

“Theismann,” she answered with a strong emphasis on the first syllable.

“Come with me, please,” Ted said, stepping back into the hall. Although totally aware of her slow walk and swaying hips, Ted gave no outward indication that he was paying any attention to her at all. He led her down to another room and stood by the door. “After you,” he said.

Monica walked past him, making sure she brushed against his body as she did. She smiled up at him but he ignored that, too.

“Please have a seat over at that table,” he said, gesturing to the middle of the room.

Monica took her time settling into the chair. Ted remained patient and seemingly oblivious until she was still.

First, he established Monica’s claim that she knew nothing about what had happened in the building the night before or even what was going on right now. Then Ted took her a step forward. “If I were to tell you that someone was murdered in this building last night, what would come to your mind?”

“Mmmm?” Monica hummed and looked upward, swinging a foot back and forward in the air.

Ted was surprised by her lack of emotional reaction to the news of a homicide in the place where she worked. He folded his arms across his chest as he studied her for any other suspicious reactions.

Suddenly, she looked straight at him and winked. “I think I know what happened,” she said with a coquettish grin.

Good grief, is she flirting with me?
Ted struggled to maintain the passive expression on his face to hide his shock from her. “Ms. Theismann, what do you know?”

“Well,” she simpered, “I don’t
know
know.” She uncrossed her legs and placed an elbow on one knee and tapped a bright red fingernail against her lips. “But based on who was not in the meeting room and the logical process of elimination, I’d say someone killed Shari Fleming.” She beamed at him as if awaiting a pat on the head.

At first Ted was too stunned to respond.
How did she know? Did she kill her? This silly, vain woman? But maybe her behavior is all an act – an act designed to divert suspicion away from her. If it is, it’s not working.

Monica continued to smile at Ted. She titled her said to one said, raised an eyebrow and asked, “Well, Officer, am I right?”

“What makes you think Ms. Fleming is the victim, Ms. Theismann?”

“So you’re not going to answer my question. I could assume that your silence means I’m right.”

Ted looked at her with a blank expression and waited for her to continue.

“Well,” she said, brushing her skirt smooth with two manicured hands. “Of all the people not in the room down the hall, Shari Fleming is the only one I know who is engaging in risky behavior.”

“What do you mean by ‘risky behavior,’ Ms. Theismann?”

“Monica, Sergeant. Please call me Monica.”

“Please answer the question, Ms. Theismann.”

She rolled her eyes and tutted. “Very well, Ms. Fleming was engaged in an extramarital affair.”

“An affair?” Ted echoed. “Are you sure about that?”

“Oh, definitely. I suspect she was killed by her husband, or her lover or her lover’s wife.”

“Just who do you allege is her lover?” Ted asked.

“This is not gossip, Sergeant. This is straight from my personal observation.”

“Please, Ms. Theismann, who do you believe is the other party in this affair?”

“Robert Irving,” she said with a sneer.

“The superintendent?” Ted asked, already dreading the political ramifications of this tidbit.

“Oh, yes, Sergeant. Aww, but come on, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“What leads you to believe they were having an affair?”

“All those one-on-one meetings behind closed doors. The secret, private smiles they exchanged in meetings all the time. And the fact that neither one of them ever made any decision without consulting with the other person.”

“Did you witness any overt displays of affection?”

“They are not stupid people, Sergeant Branson. But then, neither am I. I’m in Human Resources. I’m trained and experienced at reading people. Their shared smiles and exchanged glances spoke volumes.”

“I see. So it’s just speculation on your part?”

“Puh-lease, Sergeant. I am a trained professional. Which of the three do you think did it?”

“Ms. Theismann, what time did you leave the office last night?”

She threw back her head and laughed long and hard. “Really, Sergeant, you can’t cow me with that red herring. You’ve got three likely suspects here and I am not one of them.”

“Ms. Theismann, I am serious. Please answer the question: what time did you leave work last night?”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Very well, I’ll play your little game, Sergeant. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two after five o’clock when I walked out the door.”

“What did you do then, Ms. Theismann?”

She sighed. “I headed home. On the way, I stopped at the liquor store for a bottle of wine and some Amaretto.” She leaned forward and whispered, “It’s
the
liqueur for lovers. Have you ever had any? And would you like to try it?”

Ted straightened up, pressing his back to the chair. “What did you do then?”

She sighed, even deeper this time. “I went home, read a magazine while I sipped on a glass of wine. Fixed a salad for dinner. Took a shower, read some more, drank more wine and went to bed.” She pouted her lips and added, “All by my lonesome.” She paused for a reaction from Ted, got none and continued. “I slept all night, got up, got dressed, pulled into the parking lot about 8:30 and have been under the watchful eye of the cops ever since.”

“You didn’t leave your home all evening?”

“No, Sergeant! I’m getting very tired of this game. Can I go now?”

Ted gave her a tired smile. “Not just yet. You wait right here for a moment.” He walked out of the room to find Lucinda and brief her about the interview. To his surprise, he encountered her in the hall heading in his direction.

“You’re not going to believe this . . .” they said in unison and erupted in mutual laughter.

BOOK: Punish the Deed
12.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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