Oh Say Can You Fudge (9 page)

“That makes sense,” I said. “Can you tell me if Mr. Schulte is in?”

“I saw him about an hour ago when he checked in.” Mrs. H went to a small desk on the wall across from the staircase. “I can’t give out his room number, but you can leave him a message.” She handed me a notepad and a pen.

“Wow, that is old-fashioned.” I laughed.

“You’d be surprised at how many people pay attention to a handwritten note over a text message.”

“Okay.” I wrote out a small note asking Henry to call me and gave my number. “I don’t think he’ll follow up, but it’s worth a try.” I tore off the note, folded it, and put his name on the underside then gave her the note. “It was nice to meet you, Susan.”

“You, too, Allie,” she said and took the note. “I’ll give this to him right away. Best of luck with your search for the fireworks technician. We really count on the shows.”

“I know you do. I certainly know you do.”

Chapter 9

“I heard that Rodney Rivers was getting death threats,” Jenn said as we gathered for our nightly staff meeting in my apartment.

I poured sangria for myself, Jenn, Frances, and Mr. Devaney. Sandy Everheart, my part-time chocolatier, had ducked out to spend time with her family. The apartment windows were all wide open and the cool breeze off the lake made the curtains flutter.

“Where’d you hear that?” I asked as I curled up in my favorite chair. “Oh, no, wait—” I held up my hand. “Was it your inside source?” I grinned.

“Yes.” Jenn tried to hide a secret smile by taking a sip of her drink.

“How does Shane know?” Frances asked.

“It’s a small department,” Mr. Devaney said. “I imagine there is some water cooler talk.”

“Actually, Rex sent Rodney’s smartphone out to be forensically searched. Shane is interested in the process for electronic evidence and was chatting the guys up who did the work. They told him that usually there isn’t much to be found on a victim’s phone, but Rodney did most of his business on his phone so there were all kinds of receipts, e-mails, and documents.”

“And they found threats? What kind of threats, viruses?” I asked.

Mal jumped up onto the chair beside me and with a comfortable turn she settled into my lap.

“He was getting e-mail messages from collectors about unpaid bills. There were also phone messages that were quite explicit.”

“Yikes. That’s scary,” I said.

“I imagine Rex is looking into Rivers’ finances,” Mr. Devaney said.

“Unpaid bills aren’t exactly a motive for murder,” Frances said. “If that were the case, there would be a lot of dead people in this world.”

“I suppose that’s true.” I tilted my head. “Were the threats only from collectors?”

“No.” Jenn’s blue eyes sparkled with interest. “There were a couple unidentified e-mail threats.”

“I thought all e-mails could be identified these days.” Mr. Devaney pulled his left ankle up to rest on his right knee exposing argyle socks and dark brown shoes. His slouchy corduroy pants were dusty from today’s work. His dress shirt was checkered red, cream, and brown and protected by the deep brown cardigan he wore over the top.

“It’s true most can be eventually traced to an IP address, but sometimes that takes time and a whole lot of effort.” Jenn sipped her drink. “The police would have to be really convinced that those threats were worth the time and effort to dig up the source. Even then, it might be a library or Internet café used by multiple people during the day.”

“You sound like you know a lot about cyber stalking.” Frances waggled her eyebrows. Her short brown hair shone in the lamplight.

“I love to watch those television crime shows,” Jenn said. “Shane tells me things are so much different in real life. There are labs full of evidence waiting to be looked at, but there isn’t time, money, or good equipment always available. So they make you think that bad guys will be caught, but that’s not always the case.”

“Poor Rodney,” I said. “His threats turned out to be real.”

“Or they may not have been related to the murder at all,” Jenn said. “Shane was telling me of this case in Ann Arbor where some woman had a stalker, but as we all know there isn’t much the police can do unless some harm comes to a person. Well, she was shot and in a coma for a week. The Ann Arbor police pulled in her known stalker, but couldn’t connect him to the gun or the alley where she was shot.”

“What happened?” Frances asked as she settled slowly into the couch until she rested ever so carefully, nonchalantly touching Mr. Devaney. Seriously, we all knew about those two, so why did she continue to pretend nothing was going on?

“Oh, the woman woke up and, once the doctors intubated her, the police listened to her story and discovered she could identify her attacker and it wasn’t the stalker. It turns out it was a random mugging that had nothing to do with the fact that she had a stalker. The stalker was let go because the woman was able to identify her mugger as a different man in a lineup.”

“Wow,” I said. “Poor gal. To have a stalker is scary enough, but then to get mugged in a separate incident. Terrible.”

“Speaking of terrible, did you find out if Rodney’s partner will conduct the fireworks show with our new fireworks?” Jenn asked.

“No.” I pursed my lips and drew my eyebrows. “I found out he was staying at the Hamilton B & B. I went over to talk to him, but Mrs. H wouldn’t give me his room number. All I could do was leave a message for him to call me.”

“And we all know how good he is at calling you back,” Jenn said.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “Before I went to the B & B, I’d left four messages on his phone at the office and he hasn’t called back once. If he hadn’t stopped in this morning, I would have to think he was purposely avoiding me.”

“What did he say when he stopped in?” Mr. Devaney asked. “I was up in three-ten repairing the stuck window.”

“He basically said that the insurance would cover the cost of the fireworks, but, since we only made a down payment he wasn’t obligated to continue on with the shows.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Mr. Devaney said.

“It’s not. I checked the contract. That’s what I wanted to talk to him about. Jenn found replacement fireworks so he needs to either be our technician or find us a replacement.”

“Did you let Rex know that this guy was dodging your calls?” Frances asked.

“No.” I patted Mal, giving her a good scratch behind the ears. “He has his hands full with the murder investigation. It’s not appropriate for me to use Rex’s time to track down a guy about a contract agreement.”

“You should call your lawyer,” Mr. Devaney said. “It might take some finagling if this guy doesn’t want to keep his part of the contract and it sounds like he doesn’t.”

“I suppose you are right. I’ll try to get ahold of Mr. Schulte again tomorrow. If I can’t, I’ll call Frances’s cousin William. He’s a criminal lawyer, but he might know someone who can help with a civil case.”

“I’m sure William would be happy to help,” Frances said. “This isn’t just your fireworks show. This affects the entire community. Maybe if you explain that to Mr. Schulte he will understand how important this is to us.”

“I certainly hope so.”

 

 

Later that night, Mal wanted to go out for her end of the day walk. I slipped on her pink harness with the reflective white stars and snapped on her pink leash. We went out the back door of the apartment.

It was one of those cool nights where the sky was clear and filled with stars. The breeze off the lakefront rustled the leaves on the trees. The sounds of night insects filled the air. We moved quickly down the metal fire escape.

When I’d first moved into the apartment, the last rung of stairs was a ladder that could be pulled up to keep others from coming up the fire escape. But after I got Mal, I realized that it would be advantageous to be able to use the back fire escape so I had Mr. Devaney install permanent black medal steps all the way down. Mal was used to hopping on down them and often beat me to the bottom.

The alley was quiet. A single street light illuminated the walkway between the McMurphy and the Oakton Bed and Breakfast behind us. Well, actually it was the pool house to the Oakton. At one point, Papa Liam and Mr. Thompson had an agreement that both hotels would share the expense and the use of the pool house, but they had a falling out and since then, the pool house was exclusively for the use of the Oakton guests.

A small patch of grass at the edge of the alley and a fence separated us from the pool house which sat up on a hill. The pool house shutters were open, leaving the wind to blow through the screened-in windows that surrounded the pool. It was quiet, but a light was on inside.

Mal used the patch of grass for her business and I wondered if the pool house was in use by guests or if Mr. Thompson had simply forgotten to turn off the light.

The light seemed to be getting brighter and I noticed the strong acid scent of burning wood. I scowled and stepped closer to the fence. It wasn’t like the Oakton to have a bonfire near the pool house.

Mal barked and pushed her way under a hole in the fence, yanking her leash from me.

“Mal!” I shouted. “Come back here.”

She was gone.

I climbed the fence and noticed a figure moving toward the shadows. “Hey, excuse me. Can you help me get my dog?”

The person turned and I recognized the familiar slouch of Sherman Archibald. He was wearing a T-shirt and baggy jeans and his shaggy hair was greasy.

“Sherman?” I called. “Did you see my dog, Mal? She’s a white bichon-poo.”

“Naw,” he said and shrugged his thin shoulders.

Mal barked in the distance.

“Okay,” I muttered and took off to the pool house. “Mal! Come here puppy.” I ran around the corner to find the edge of the pool house engulfed in flames. I gasped and stopped short. Mal was barking at the flames that licked up the side of the building.

I grabbed my puppy and ran back out of the way of the flames. “Fire!” I shouted. Earlier this month when I’d shouted “
fire”
in the alleyway, no one had heard me so I wasn’t banking on it working this time. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency.” Charlene’s voice was clear and confident.

“Hi, there is a fire at the Oakton pool house. Send help fast.”

“The pool house is on fire?” Charlene asked.

“Yes, the Oakton pool house between the Oakton B & B and the McMurphy.”

“Is this Allie McMurphy?” Charlene asked.

“Yes, Charlene. Hi. There’s a fire and it’s getting closer to the pool house roof.”

“I’m sending the fire department. Is anyone hurt?”

I glanced around. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Are you inside or outside the pool house?”

“I’m outside. The shutters are open and the windows are screened.”

“Can you get a fire extinguisher?”

I held tight to Mal who was squirming and barking. “I don’t know.” I walked around to the door of the pool house and tried to open it. It was locked. I glanced inside and saw the faint glow of a night-light, but no one was inside. “No, the place is locked up tight.”

The sound of sirens filled the air as the fire truck left the administration building.

“The guys are on their way. Step back and stay safe,” Charlene advised.

“Will do.” I hung up my phone as the truck pulled up. Four firemen in full gear jumped out of the truck and hauled the hose out, hooking it up to the fire hydrant in the street above the pool house and then rushing down the slope of the hill to spray the roof and smother the fire.

Mal squirmed in my arms, but I held on to her tight. “Oh, no you don’t.” I was a few feet back and firmly out of the guys way as I watched them do the work quickly and efficiently.

“Another fire,” Liz said as she strode up with her camera in hand and took pictures. Her hair was down and loose over her shoulders. She wore a simple T-shirt, shorts, and socks with her hiking books untied and flapping. “I heard the dispatch call and came right out.” She snapped action pictures of the firemen hosing down the smoldering side of the building. “Did you call it in?”

“Yes. Mal got loose and started barking. I climbed over the fence to find her in front of the fire.”

Liz smiled. “That pup of yours is getting to be a regular hero.”

The fire was put out fairly quickly and Ed Goodfoot came over. “Hello, Allie.”

“Hi.” I put Mal down. Now that the excitement was over, she was happy to sniff around.

“Thanks for calling in the fire. We were able to catch it before it got too far.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. I was out walking Mal when she escaped and came to bark at the fire. It really is all her doing.” I pointed at my dog. “Do you know what caused it?”

“Not certain yet. I’m glad we caught it early. With tonight’s winds it could have traveled through several nearby buildings.”

“Funny, but you would think a pool house would not be something that would catch on fire easily.”

“Was it another arson?” Liz asked.

“Hey, Allie, what’s going on?”

I glanced over to see Jenn heading toward us.

“The pool house was on fire.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Jenn said as she climbed over the fence and hopped down.

“What’s going on?” Pete Thompson asked as he puffed around the corner of the pool house. My backdoor neighbor wasn’t on the best of speaking terms with me since Papa Liam died. It hadn’t helped that I had planned a party in the pool house and we’d found a dead man floating facedown. “Ms. McMurphy, what are you doing on my property?”

“My dog slipped under the fence. When I got to her, I noticed the pool house was on fire so I called the fire department.”

“She saved your pool house,” Ed said. “You’re lucky. If she hadn’t called in when she did, the fire would have hit the roof and burned down the entire structure. We’re lucky, too. With tonight’s wind, the fire could have easily jumped from building to building.”

“Why would the pool house be on fire?” Pete rubbed his heavy jowls with his pudgy hand. He wore a pair of dark sweatpants and a T-shirt. His chubby body looked squeezed into his clothes.

“Did you have a bonfire tonight?” Ed asked.

“No, we cancelled the fire pit due to the wind,” Pete said. “It had to be sabotage.” He scowled at me. “Maybe we should ask Miss McMurphy here what she was doing when the fire started.”

“I was walking my dog,” I said.

“A likely excuse.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest and glared at me.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jenn patted his arm. “Allie wouldn’t start a fire on a property so close to the McMurphy. Maybe it was electrical.” She wore a silk kimono top over soft pajama pants and looked like a Hollywood starlet.