White Colander Crime (19 page)

“Shelby . . . Oh! That's the poor girl who was killed in this village, right?” Jaymie watched the young woman's eyes. “I heard about that. You knew her?”

She nodded.

“What was she like?”

“She was nice,” the young woman said.

How descriptive. Jaymie leaned in and said, “I heard she was involved in some kind of run-in with another employee, a guy named Austin. Is that true?”

Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, dropping the strand of hair. “Did that get out? I thought everyone had passed it off. They told some story around the office about him getting fired because of poor Lily, but it wasn't Mrs. Meadows' fault. I mean sure, she was mad at Austin for teasing about her expensive taste in clothes, but it was him making that crack about Shelby and Mr. Meadows dating that got him fired. I mean, Shelby was so mad! I've
never
seen her that mad before. She told Austin that he had a big fat mouth and that he should close it before she decided to tell everything she knew about him!”

Jaymie acted suitably awed, and her mind clicked through the information swiftly. “What did she mean? What did she know about Austin that she could reveal?”

The girl shrugged. “I don't know. I guess she died before she could say.”

Jaymie asked a few more questions, but the girl didn't know anything more. “Look, can I just sit in Mr. Meadows' office until he comes back?”

She looked reluctant. “He'll be gone for a while.”

“Then maybe I can go back and leave him a note?”

“I can do that,” the girl said. She got out her pad of paper and a pen and looked up at Jaymie with a bright expression.

“Okay.” Jaymie thought for a second, then said quickly, “Tell him that I'd like to interview him to get his opinions on the government regulatory conference in Flint that will discuss the implications of the foreign trade agreement section two one oh subsection three seven one on companies that have international travel mandates as a part of their substructure. I'd also like to get his views on the oversight committee in gubernatorial electoral college voting procedures.” She stopped to take a breath and was gratified to see the completely overwhelmed and mystified look on the girl's face. She hadn't gotten beyond writing down “Interview” on the sheet.

“Could you repeat that, please?” she asked plaintively.

Not if her life depended on it, Jaymie thought, with only a dim recollection of the gobbledy-gook nonsense she had just spewed. “It's vital that this not be messed up. Just let me go back and leave a note on his desk, and I'll be out of your hair in three minutes.”

The phone started ringing just then. The girl hesitated, but the ringing phone beckoned. “Okay, but just for three minutes!” She picked up the phone and in her best reception voice said, “Meadows Employment. How may I direct your call?”

Jaymie circled behind the reception desk and ducked around the hall, getting her bearings. It was a tolerable office space, radiating off a central office lounge with a square of couches facing a television tuned silently to Fox News Network. She could hear voices down the hall, and she veered away from them, not sure what exactly she was looking for. But she soon spotted one possibility; there was a desk in a cubicle with a photo of Lori Wozny and Shelby by the blank screen of a desktop computer monitor.

She only had a few minutes, so Jaymie hastily searched the desk. There was the usual desk rubble: paper clips, ball-point pens, felt markers, elastics, a stapler, staples, stickers and erasers. But more tellingly there were travel brochures, too, and some notes that Jaymie couldn't figure out. It almost looked like an itinerary, or a list of steps to do something or get somewhere. There were short forms and initials, but she didn't have time to puzzle it through. She looked over her shoulder, ripped the page off the notepad, and stuffed it in her purse, deciding to look at it later.

Not finding anything else, Jaymie skipped down the hall until she found Meadows' office, which was unlocked. She slipped in and stood, looking around. It was modest, almost blank, offering no hint as to its owner's personality other than a bland landscape on the wall and a calendar of kittens. But his planner was open on the desk. She flipped back through to the day of Shelby's death. He had a full load of work and appointments, and some notes jotted down for that day, but most telling and interesting to Jaymie was a notation for the evening.

“Dickens Days—SF,” it simply said.

Nineteen

H
AD HE THEN
been at the event, and was “SF” Shelby Fretter? Had he met with Shelby for a lovers' rendezvous? Or had he followed Shelby and her family, lured her away and beat her to death?

Why
would
he?

Or why
wouldn't
he?

The amount she still did not know was overwhelming. In the short space of her morning she had added significantly to the list of possible suspects in Shelby's murder. Austin Calhoun or Delaney Meadows could have killed her. Maybe they were unlikely, but they were possible. Lily Meadows, too . . . she was a possible suspect.

Footsteps in the hall alerted her, so she tore a blank piece of paper from the notepad and scribbled some random words, then looked up as the receptionist came to the doorway.

“I don't think I ought to leave you back here,” she said uneasily. “Mr. Meadows has been cranky, what with the police here a few times and such.”

Jaymie straightened. “Look, I've decided not to leave a note. It's too complex. How about you just forget it for now, and I'll catch up with Delaney later. I know where he lives and I know his wife, Lily, very well, so I'll give her a call and we can meet at his home later, when he's more relaxed.”

“Okay,” the girl said, looking confused.

“Don't worry one little bit about it. My goal is to make this easier for everyone, so don't even worry about telling him I was here; I'll take care of everything, trust me!” Jaymie smiled and stuffed the gibberish note in her pocket. If the girl knew Jaymie she'd recognize the feverish tone of someone who had trouble lying convincingly.

But the girl actually smiled and nodded, with a big sigh of relief for one thing she didn't have to worry about in a position that was clearly beyond her ability. “Okay. That would be better. Thanks. What did you say your name was?”

“Don't even worry about it,” Jaymie said, patting her arm and slipping past her. “So long! I have to hurry. Got another meeting.”

She sped out and headed down to the Bean & Leaf, shaking from nerves, got a cup of tea and sat at a table by the window overlooking the courtyard. This was all getting terribly confusing, and she had a lot of leads but no organization. In the last hour Austin Calhoun, Delaney Meadows and Lily Meadows had zoomed up the list of suspects, and she wasn't sure how to go about eliminating them.

She knew one thing; she needed to speak with Cody again. She remembered something he had said in the confrontation with his mother, that Shelby had told him Nan was out to get the Fretter family, and had a vendetta against them. Did Shelby really think that? He seemed to agree. She needed to speak with him about it. She got her notebook out of her purse and wrote that down, then pondered what else she needed to ask.

Shelby's journal or whatever it was she was writing in: that nagged at her. She got out her cell phone and texted Nan to have Cody call her. She needed to ask him if he had ever seen Shelby writing in a journal and where it might be. She was curious about what Shelby was writing.

She also texted Jakob, remembering that she had planned to drop by the tree farm to see him, but he texted back that he was already on his way to Marine City and wouldn't be back until late afternoon. It looked like she wouldn't get to see him after all. She sent him a frowny face and said she'd call him that evening, after he was home from Jocie's winter pageant.

Nan texted back, telling Jaymie to call her house, where Cody was staying, whenever she wanted. She then made a note to track down Lily Meadows and find out if she was at the book club meeting on the Friday night of Shelby's death, and anything else she could discover about Delaney's wife, about whom two people had vastly different opinions. The note in Delaney's planner about Dickens Days and “SF” nagged at her. If Lily was at the book meeting she could at least eliminate one person from the pool of suspects.

She sat back and sipped her tea, and accidentally tuned in to a conversation at a table behind her. What caught her attention was the name Natalie. It wasn't an especially uncommon name, but Queensville was a small town; not that many Natalies around. Two women were talking in hushed whispers.

“(
Unintelligible
) . . . but
I
know the truth. She was scared, so she left town.”

The other young woman said, “I don't think so. I think she's dead.”

“You don't . . . You can't know that for sure. Who knows?”

“I think she got in trouble with . . . (
unintelligible
) . . . and took off, and got in bad company and died.”

Jaymie shifted to hear better, but the girl gave her a look. Sighing, she turned in her chair to face them. “Pardon me, but I couldn't help overhear you talking about Natalie. That wouldn't be Natalie Roth, would it?”

The girl facing her, a pretty blonde not more than twenty-one or so, blinked and started, then said reluctantly, “Why?”

Jaymie hesitated, but then said, “I know her father. He's so upset. He doesn't know if she's alive or dead, and you can imagine how awful that is.”

The other of the two girls, a brunette with olive skin and almond-shaped eyes, turned in her chair. Her dark eyes were clouded with doubt. “No one thought anything of it when she said she was working for Delaney and going to Korea. I know another girl who did it, and came back okay.”

“Actually, she never left Queensville,” Jaymie said. “Her passport and ID are all still in her apartment.”

The first girl's expression cleared and she sighed in relief. “Well, that's good! She probably took off on a vacation, or with some man!”

“For six weeks?” the brunette said. “No, this is worse. Much worse. Someone would have found her or she would have contacted someone in that time. When the police came around asking questions I couldn't think of anything to tell them. I mean, I don't
know
anything. But this is bad.” She met Jaymie's gaze. “She's gone, isn't she?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I'm Jaymie Leighton. How do you girls know Natalie?”

The girls were Dawn and Honey. They both worked at the call center and knew Austin Calhoun. He was bitchy but fun, they agreed. Yes, he was friends with Natalie; they saw them together quite often.
They
only knew her from lunches at the Bean & Leaf, but she had talked about her new job, though so far she had only done an auto show and a convention. She was excited about the opportunity, both agreed, to travel to Korea. She liked travel a lot.

“If she had a good experience I was going to try to get the same job,” Dawn, the pretty blonde, said.

“Honey, you said a few minutes ago that you thought she got in trouble with—and I couldn't hear that part—and took off, got in with bad company and died. Who were you talking about? Who did she get in trouble with?”

She exchanged a look with her friend, who shrugged.

“Just tell me; I'm interested, and it won't go any further, I promise.”

Honey looked round the room, then bent forward. “I just don't trust Delaney Meadows. There's something wrong there, don't you think? Does he look like the kind of guy who'd start a modeling agency?” She sat back. “I
did
say I thought she took off, got mixed up in bad company and died. But . . . that's all.”

Jaymie watched her for a moment, but she remained calm. “What is it about Delaney Meadows you don't trust?”

Honey frowned down at her cup. “He's just kind of . . . weird. I don't know what else to say. Just this feeling, like, he watches you with these cold eyes, like he's taking inventory.”

“And he's around at all hours,” Dawn added. “I've seen him sneaking in here at midnight.”

“What were
you
doing here at midnight?” Honey asked, eyeing her friend.

The blond girl giggled. “I was meeting a friend on the sly. He had something I wanted.” She widened her eyes and pinched her fingers together, taking a hit off an imaginary joint.

“And you saw Delaney?”

“Yeah. He was sneaking into the building.”

“Sneaking?” Jaymie said. “He has a business here. He could have just remembered he needed to do something.”

Dawn nodded. “I guess.”

“Was Natalie dating anyone? Was she worried about anything, or upset? In any kind of trouble?”

“Well, actually . . .” Honey blinked once, calculating, it appeared to Jaymie. Then she nodded. “Okay, I'm not sure if this means anything, but I know one thing; Natalie was dating, for a while, at least, Shelby Fretter's brother, Travis. When she dumped him, he showed up here and said he wasn't leaving until she talked to him. Shelby had to come out and calm him down. Natalie wasn't even in the building that day—she only came in when she had to talk to Delaney—but Travis was really upset.”

•   •   •

A
S
J
AYMIE
WALKED
home, she considered what else Honey and Dawn had to say. Natalie, like Shelby, dated a lot, several different guys. She was a gorgeous girl and once told Dawn that she should consider doing what she did, date guys who could offer some financial reward for the time and trouble. Both girls knew about Meadows' dating site, but were divided on their opinion of it. Dawn thought it was harmless, but Honey was leery, saying it felt like a scam to her. She had logged on once, and when it said that girls could subscribe free but guys had to pay, she said it felt off.

Jaymie agreed with her. She was familiar with ladies' nights at clubs, when women got in free and men had to pay a cover charge. Club owners knew that guys were generally more likely to attend if there were large numbers of girls to hit on, and would buy more drinks for themselves and girls. But this felt kind of like the men were paying for introductions to girls, which was one step away from some very unsavory dealings.

The information about Travis was interesting: that he had been upset when Natalie stopped seeing him. Did Shelby suspect he was behind Natalie's disappearance? Is that what they were arguing about the night of Shelby's murder, that she was going to turn him in? She had to find a way to meet and talk to him, as well as to connect with Lori Wozny. That was going to be tricky, but she only had a very short time left before her self-imposed deadline, though she knew enough for her to make one decision right now, actually. Cody was not the killer. There was more than enough doubt to go around, and several viable suspects with more motive than he had. She wanted to know, both for Nan and for herself.

Once home, she made a to-do list and sat down at the kitchen table with the phone to work her way through part of it. She made some business calls for the picnic baskets as well as for Dickens Days. She touched base with Mabel and Dee, then called Valetta quickly.

“Can you answer me one question?” she asked. “The night of the murder, did you, from your angle, see Delaney Meadows that evening? At all?”

There was silence for a moment, then Valetta said, “I had to think for a second, but yes, I did see him. I'm trying to pin down what time.” She was silent for a moment, then said, “It was probably around nine or so; I saw him scurrying off down the road.”

“Scurrying?”

“Like a rat will do.”

Jaymie chuckled. “Nine, you say . . . and scurrying.”

“Do I sniff a mystery?”

“Just developing alternate theories. It's possible that he killed Shelby for reasons I'll explain at some point, and that was why he was scurrying. I'll have to work out the timing, but it sure does seem possible to me. Now . . . did you at any time see Travis Fretter alone?”

“I can't say that I did.”

“Darn. Okay. Gotta go.” Valetta was protesting that Jaymie couldn't leave her hanging like that as she clicked the off button on the phone.

She then settled down in the parlor and called Cody. He sounded groggy at first.