Murder Is Private (7 page)

Chapter 16

At lunch the next day, Susan pried for more details about the fire. Gabby, the librarian, ate with them as she occasionally did. Schwartz munched on a tuna sandwich, while Alonzo threw a Tupperware container into the microwave and popped open a can of Pepsi. Susan plunged right into her query.

“I found out last night that Celia and Derrick had a fire in their condo.”

“Years ago. We were all glad no one got hurt,” said Schwartz. “Freak accident.”

“I heard Derrick got a pretty nasty burn,” said Susan.

“Served him right,” said Gabby. “That’s karma for you. Beat your wife, suffer the consequences.”

“Come on, Gabby. Celia held her own. Remember at the Christmas party? He’s the one who came in with a black eye,” said Alonzo. “No one believed his stupid story about walking into a door.”

“And I ran into him at Publix once. Nasty gash on his forehead,” said Schwartz.

“Probably from a bar fight,” said Gabby.

Alonzo’s cell phone vibrated on the table. “Excuse me. I have to take this outside.” Susan finished her lunch and went back to the chorus room.
I have to call
Lynette.

“Lynette, there’s something you have to look into.”

“Mom, aren’t you working? Can’t it wait?”

“I just finished lunch with some of Celia’s colleagues. They once saw Derrick with a black eye, and another time with a nasty gash. Can you get Kevin to look at the emergency room records? Maybe he had a history of getting into fights. While he’s at it, he should see if Celia had ever been in the ER. If he was beating her, she probably made more than one visit.”

“I’m sure Kevin has checked it out.”

“Just make sure he knows.”

While still on the phone, Susan heard Lynette say, “Kevin, it’s my Mom with some info she thinks is important.”

“Lynette, what is Kevin doing there in the middle of the day?”

“He stopped by to walk Annalise and me over to the canal to feed the ducks. Annalise loves the ducks.”

“Shouldn’t he be at work?”

“He is. He’s on his lunch break.”

“Lynette, I told you…”

“Go back to work. Bye, Mom. I’ll give him the message.”

Susan shook her head. Lynette was heading for trouble. Didn’t she see that Kevin was still in love with her? Lynette never told her or Mike why she and Kevin had broken off their engagement.
He wants her back. I know it,
thought Susan
.

Chapter 17

“Are we practicing for the nursing home concert?” asked Manolito before class. Although he was a violin major, Manolito had a beautiful tenor voice and sang in the chorus.

“Yes, we’d better. It’s just a few weeks away,” said Susan. “Manolito, you live in the boys’ dorm, right?”

“Yes, since freshman year. Why?”

“So you were in the dorm the night Mrs. Watkins was killed, right?”

“I was.” Manolito looked at the floor.

“Did you hear or see anything unusual that night?”

“No.” He wrung his hands together.

“Manolito, I feel like you’re hiding something. If you have information that can help the police solve the case, you need to speak up. In fact, an anonymous caller from your dorm says he saw a man outside that night in the arboretum.”

“I don’t want to get involved, Mrs. Wiles,” said Manolito. “The killer is still out there. If he knows I talked to the police, I might be in danger. What if he comes after me next?”

“How about you tell me, and I’ll say I overheard some boys talking about it. I’ll keep your name out of it.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s both your civic and moral duty.” Manolito motioned for her to follow him into the choral office.

“I heard a huge argument in the arboretum. It was a man and a woman fighting. The woman sounded like Mrs. Watkins.”

“And the man’s voice?”

“I didn’t recognize it; sorry.”

“Did you see anything?”

“No, my window faces the other direction. Anyway, it stopped. My roommate came in and I forgot all about it until I heard about the murder. If you say anything to the police, please, please, don’t use my name.”

“I won’t,” Susan assured the boy. Another student rushed into the office, her hand bleeding.

“Do you have a Band-Aid, Mrs. Wiles? I cut my hand.” Blood dripped down her wrist as she held her hand up to show Susan.

“There must be one here somewhere.” Susan checked the desk drawers, then opened the drawers of the filing cabinet. The top drawer was used for storage. “Here’s one!”

After handing the girl the Band-Aid, she searched the drawer more thoroughly. Way in the back she found a framed picture. It was of Celia and Derrick Watkins on their wedding day, with a wedding invitation mounted next to the photo. What was she going to do with it? Derrick wouldn’t care about it. She’d just throw it away. She tossed it into the trash can. Her stomach knotted. No, that was wrong. As much as she disliked Derrick, it belonged to him. She’d drop by his house after school. She could leave it in his mailbox. The thought of talking to Derrick Watkins made her shudder.

After school, she put the photo into a manila envelope and walked to Derrick’s house, which was just a block from the arboretum. Audrey had pointed it out to her earlier. She was relieved not to see a car in the driveway. She went to the front door, put down the photo, and looked around for some rocks or a planter to hide it from street view. She crouched down in front of the front door. It flung open. There stood Derrick Watkins, red faced, wearing a sleeveless undershirt. She gasped.

“What do you think you’re doing sneaking around my house like that? I’m calling the police!” said Derrick.

Susan stood up with the envelope. “I just wanted to return this to you. I found it in Celia’s office.”

Susan’s toes shook inside her sandals. Derrick yanked the photo out of the envelope.

“This! What makes you think I’d care about a wedding photo with that shrew?” He flung the photo to the ground, shattering the glass.

“I knew it!” cried Susan. “I knew you killed her, you cold blooded creep.” Derrick grabbed her arm so hard she felt his nails digging into her skin. She yelled, hoping the neighbors would hear.

“Let go of me, you wife beater, murderer! The police are coming for you! How long do you think they’re going to believe your bar story alibi? No one saw you at the bar. You’ll be thrown in jail for life. Or does Florida have the death penalty?”

Derrick stepped in closer and raised his fist to her face.

Susan gathered her courage and continued: “You fought with Celia in the arboretum the night of the murder. There were witnesses.” For a moment, she thought he’d take a swing at her. Thankfully, he stepped back and dropped his fist.

“You know nothing. Get off my property and don’t come near me again.”

“Or what? You’ll beat me like you did Celia? You’ll set me on fire?”

Chapter 18

Susan burst through the front door, sweaty and out of breath. “Lynette! Where are you? Lynette!”

“Hush,” whispered her daughter, bustling down the stairs. “I just put Annalise down for a nap. What’s wrong?”

“I just had a run in with Derrick Watkins.”

“Are you okay? Did he come to the school?”

“No, it was at his house.”

“At his house? What on earth were you doing at his house?”

“I found a wedding photo in Celia’s office and wanted to return it to him. I was going to leave it at his front door, but he saw me.”

“Are you crazy, Mom? I told you to stay out of trouble, but you never listen. Did he hurt you?”

“No, but I’m sure he killed Celia. He grabbed the photograph from me and threw it on the ground, the cold jerk. He hated her. And the man has a temper. You know that from the funeral. Remember how he gave Schwartz the bloody nose?”

“It doesn’t mean he killed her.”

“Did you find any witnesses who corroborated his alibi? No, right?”

“Not yet. I’ll call Kevin and see what’s going on.”

“He’s guilty,” said Susan, smoldering with anger. “I know it. Oh, and an anonymous witness heard them fighting in the arboretum the night of the murder.”

“An
anonymous
witness? How did
you
come by that tidbit of information?”

“I can’t say. I promised I’d keep his identity a secret.”

“
His
identity. It’s one of your students, right? A
male
student. A
music
major. It wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out who he is. Really, Mom.”

“Did Kevin check the emergency room records to see if Celia had ever been admitted with suspicious injuries?”

“I wish you’d trust the police to do their job without your prodding, Mom. Kevin went over to the ER this afternoon.”

“Just pass the tip along to Kevin, Lynette. I promised my, uh, brother that I’d help.”

“And you, stay out of trouble. You never learn.”

After dinner, Susan took a walk around the neighborhood to try to sort out the recent events. She put what she knew together. Derrick had been having a fight with Celia. She tried to get away, but he followed her into the arboretum. His temper got the best of him, and he whacked her in the head, killing her. Too bad they hadn’t found the murder weapon yet. At least as far as Susan knew they hadn’t found it. Of course, Lynette wouldn’t tell her if they had. Maybe there’d be some good physical evidence when they did––fingerprints, or Derrick’s DNA.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around, but saw no one.
What if Derrick was coming after her?
She race-walked along the sidewalk. Looked again. Still no one. It was stress. She was imagining things. She picked up her pace. Now she was almost jogging. She could hear herself panting. Then, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She froze. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Was it Derrick?
How am I going to get out of this?

“I need to talk to you.” She was expecting to hear Derrick’s gruff voice, but was surprised when a woman spoke.

Susan froze in her tracks. When she could make her feet move again, she turned around. She was face to face with a petite red head.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“I need to tell you something. Derrick didn’t kill Celia, and he never beat her. She was the one abusing him.”

“What? Who are you anyway?”

“I’m his girlfriend. Derrick was with me the night of Celia’s murder.”

“His girlfriend? If that’s true, no one will believe you. They’ll think you’re trying to protect him. Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“Derrick thought it would look bad for him, just like you say. An affair could be motive, especially since he made such a fuss over finding out that
she
was unfaithful to him. He’s been seeing me for months.”

“Can you prove he was with you the night of the murder?”

“Yes. We were at a hotel, just outside of town. We have credit card receipts, and the front desk person knows us. It wasn’t our first visit. He’ll confirm it. I’m sure there’s even security footage. Derrick didn’t kill his wife.”

Susan didn’t believe her. “What about when he tried to set her on fire?”

“It was Celia who threw hot oil from a frying pan at Derrick. He was too embarrassed to admit it. He was ashamed that she was abusing him. What kind of man can’t stand up to his wife? He was afraid of her.”

“Then maybe that’s why he killed her,” suggested Susan, still uncertain of this strange woman’s sudden appearance.