A Hopeless Murder, page 16
part #1 of Hope Walker Series
“Nick, you honestly don’t remember this man’s name?”
“Nope.”
“How about what he looked like?”
“Like I said, all you old people look the same.”
“But didn’t you think it was strange he wanted the footage from the night of Sheriff Kline’s murder?”
“Who’s Sheriff Kline?”
“How can you be that dumb and that smart all at the same time?”
He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
Nick found the spot he was looking for and he zoomed in. It was dark, but the old familiar Library sign was easy to pick out. There were two people below it.
“Can you zoom in further?”
“It’s not very clear,” said Nick.
“Just try, okay?”
Nick zoomed in a little further, the two figures becoming bigger but blurrier. But one thing was easy to see. The figure on the left was Sheriff Kline.
And the one on the right? Completely blurry. But just the size made me think that it couldn’t be a woman. We were looking at Sheriff Kline and a man. A mystery man.
“Nick, this is important. I need you to remember the name of the man you showed this to.”
“Not gonna happen. I don’t.”
“Okay, then something about his appearance.”
“Like I said. Old.”
“How old?”
“I don’t know, what are you, fifty?”
I punched his shoulder.
“Ouch! What’d you do that for?”
“Because I’m thirty-one you moron. You can’t remember anything about him at all?”
Nick ran his fingers through his perfectly manicured beard. And then his eyes lit up.
“There was one thing.”
“What?”
“The only thing I ever remember about customers, their drink orders. And this guy, he gets the same thing every single time. A macchiato. A caramel macchiato.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I took Main Street to the intersection at 2nd Street and then followed 2nd up the long gentle hill that led to College Drive, where I turned left past the stately old houses that bordered the College.
Before I met Jimmy, sometimes Katie and I would go on campus and dream about catching ourselves a college guy someday. And as I wound my way past the finely manicured hedges and tall trees, I thought about how long ago that had been… and I wondered why Mr. Caramel Macchiato wanted to see that video.
I drove past the dorms, the old gymnasium and past what appeared to be a brand-new science building. I drove all the way to the top of the hill, to the large administration building, three stories of dark red brick that towered over the campus like an old medieval fortress.
I parked my car in a visitor’s spot and hustled nervously to the large double doors in the middle of the building. Inside, it seemed mostly empty and I looked at the directory hanging on the wall.
Administrative offices. It listed the registrar, the superintendent of grounds, the president, and the one name of the whole bunch that I actually recognized. The dean, Robert Lomax. Mr. Caramel Macchiato.
I stared at his name and I wondered what, if anything, his involvement might be in all of this. And then I checked my phone. Still turned off. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea anymore. I hit the button to power it on.
Just in case.
I climbed the stairs, two by two until I reached the third floor. Just like the rest of the building, it felt empty. There were three medium-sized offices on the right, one enormous office on the left. The sign over the stately wooden door said “Dean of the College: Robert Lomax.” I’d just started towards the door when my pocket buzzed. I was about to answer it when I heard a noise from inside the Dean’s office. I silenced the phone and tiptoed to the door. Dean Lomax was standing over his desk holding a book in one hand. His face was red and his hair was messed up. He looked disheveled. As usual, he was still wearing his tweed jacket.
His head snapped up in surprise.
“Hope? What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“After what happened yesterday at the funeral? I think you’ve said quite enough.”
“This isn’t about yesterday. It’s about something else. I was over at the Hopeless Cup talking to Nick. He said you asked him about the video camera feed and I want to know why.”
Dean Lomax ran a hand over his very tired face.
“I believe you heard me asking Patrick about his cameras.” He pointed straight up. “The roof of the administration building has the best view in the whole area. I’m putting a camera up there to do one of those time lapses of the college to put up on our website. A great way to show off our campus.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I am really starting to get tired of this, Hope. I’ve shown you nothing but courtesy and respect for as long as I’ve known you.”
“Nick showed me the footage you were looking at. It was outside the Library on the night Sheriff Kline was killed.”
“I don’t know what that Nick told you, but I just had him show me how the rewind and zoom functions work. Hope, I’m sorry, but you have to stop making things up.”
“I’m not!”
“Then you’re horribly mistaken. As we speak, I’m in the process of testing out the new camera on the roof.” When he saw I wasn’t buying it he shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. I have work to do.” He walked out of his office and past me, towards a door at the far end of the hall.
The door had a sign on it that said “Roof.” He opened the door and started up the stairs. I grabbed my phone. Six missed calls from Alex Kramer. I double checked that the volume was turned down, then I dialed Alex’s number and put the phone back in my pocket. Then I followed Dean Pants-on-Fire up the stairs. The first thing I saw was the campus spreading out around me under a nearly cloudless, brilliant blue sky. The second thing I saw was Dean Lomax. He was backed up against the small ledge enclosing the roof and his arm was wrapped around Margaret Kline’s throat.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Margaret Kline had a rag stuffed in her mouth and she was kicking like mad. Dean Lomax, one arm around her throat like she was a hostage, was using the other hand to lovingly comb through her silver hair.
And suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle came together, and everything made sense.
“You don’t want to hurt her, Dean Lomax.”
“No, Hope,” he said, the authority in his voice gone. “I don’t want to. But I have to now. There’s no other choice.”
I took a step towards them and he jerked her backwards violently and towards the ledge.
“Don’t come any closer,” he said.
I stopped. “I won’t,” I said as loudly as I could, hoping beyond hope that someone was listening to my phone. “But, Dean Lomax, you’re way too close to the edge of the administrative building’s roof and I’m afraid Margaret will get hurt.”
“I told you, I don’t have a choice,” he said, the anguish in his voice unmistakable.
“Yes, Dean Lomax, you do. We all have choices. But I’m here to tell you I know what happened. I know why you feel this way.”
“You do?”
“I do now. But you’re hurting Margaret.”
“I can’t let her go. If you know what happened, then you know I can’t let her go.”
“But she’s choking. At least take that rag out of her mouth. If you really loved her, you wouldn’t want her choking.”
He moved his hand from her hair to her face. He acknowledged my words with a sharp nod and he pulled the rag from her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Hope,” Margaret cried. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know he did it.”
“It’s not your fault, Margaret.”
“But you don’t understand what I did,” she said.
“Yes, Margaret, I do understand. I understand now. I had it all wrong. Sheriff Kline might not have had an affair. But somebody did. You. You and Dean Lomax.”
The tears poured from her eyes.
“Yes,” she wept.
“It wasn’t Sheriff Kline that was bored. It was you. After all those years of standing by his side…”
“It didn’t feel like a marriage anymore. I told you. It felt like we were roommates.”
“Ah, but there was one man out there who had always been interested in you. Ever since you were young, right Dean Lomax? That night at Granny’s, you told Detective Kramer that you’d known Margaret your whole life and she’d always been the best girl. The reason you’ve been a bachelor your whole life isn’t because you hadn’t met the right girl. It’s because you had met the right girl. The best girl.”
“I just couldn’t have her,” he agreed somberly.
“But your persistence finally paid off. Margaret finally gave in.”
“Yes,” she said. “And it was wonderful. Until I woke up one morning and couldn’t stand to look myself in the mirror. I was married, for God’s sake.”
“But you knew admitting the affair to your husband would crush him. So you did the next best thing. You decided to spice things up. You had an affair with him.”
“It’s what I should have done in the first place. Those last few months were the happiest Ed and I had been in years.”
“Shut your mouth!” screamed Dean Lomax. He wrenched her backwards and closer to the ledge. Margaret shrieked, and I took two steps closer. Dean Lomax yelled “Stop!”
“And when your affair ended with Margaret, the love of your life, happier than ever with her jerk of a sheriff husband, you just couldn’t handle it, Dean Lomax, could you?”
“He didn’t deserve her, Hope. He never did. He took her for granted. He was married to that badge and this town and Margaret was just an afterthought. But she was the only woman I could ever even think about and I would never have treated her that way.”
“So the night of Granny’s funeral, you started talking to him and followed him into the Library, and the two of you got into an argument.”
“And I swung that whiskey bottle as hard as I could.”
“No!” Margaret screamed. “No!”
I inched forward. “And you knew that Margaret would never tell anybody about your affair, so you believed the true motive behind Sheriff Kline’s murder would never be discovered. And the first time I saw you at the coffee shop is when you discovered the problem with your plan.”
His nostrils flared. “Those stupid cameras.”
“You went into that coffee shop every day for your caramel macchiato, but you never once considered that they had video cameras pointed all the way down the street, and right at the Library.”
“I had to go back and get Nick to show me the footage.”
“But Nick was a moron. The only thing he knew about you was your drink order. He was never going to figure it out,” I encouraged him.
“But Patrick Crofton might,” said Dean Lomax. “So I went to see him, to figure out if he’d seen it… And when I was sure he had, I didn’t really have a choice.”
“You got rid of him.”
“Just in case.”
“And you almost got rid of me.”
“Almost.”
“And then I spoke with Margaret today… and Margaret, you decided to confront Dean Lomax yourself.”
“She thinks I’m a monster,” he moaned.
“No,” Margaret sobbed. “I don’t. I think you’re a lovely man who just did a bad thing.”
“She wanted me to turn myself in.”
“But that wouldn’t do for you, would it, Dean Lomax?” I said. “You dragged her up to the rooftop… to your favorite place in the world. But why? What was your plan?”
Lomax stole a glance at the roof near his feet. At the book lying there. I took a step forward to see it better.
“Romeo and Juliet?”
“They loved each other,” said Dean Lomax portentously.
I inched even closer. “But they couldn’t be together.”
“I cannot live any longer without Margaret in my life. And if I’m going to shuffle off this mortal coil, then I want her to be with me.”
“But, Dean Lomax, Margaret doesn’t want that to happen, do you Margaret?”
“No, I don’t. Please, Robert, let me go.”
He leaned back against the edge of the building. She was crying. And it felt like we were almost out of time.
“Romeo and Juliet isn’t the only famous story, Professor Lomax. There are others. And the greatest stories ever told are about redemption. Of second chances. Margaret was right. You’re not a monster. You just did a bad thing.”
“My life is over and I’ll never be with Margaret so what’s the point?”
“A second chance. A second chance is the point, Dean Lomax. If this trip home has taught me anything it’s that second chances are possible for anyone. Even you.”
He seemed to consider what I had said. His shoulders relaxed, and his head turned downward. Then he looked up.
“No, Hope, I’m afraid they’re not.”
I jumped towards them just as he let go of Margaret and let himself topple over the ledge. I was there in time to grab his jacket. But his momentum was too much. I started to fall. I heard Margaret scream and I could feel her trying to hold me back as I fought with everything I had not to go over. And that’s when I heard another voice. A man’s voice.
“Hope!” he yelled. Strong hands caught me and Margaret and Detective Kramer pulled me up and dragged me back, still holding on to Dean Lomax.
We ended up in one gigantic heap.
Alex yanked the dean up and put cuffs on him. Robert Lomax looked at me. He was a man defeated. But seeing as I knew a little about English myself, I felt there was one more thing to say that probably wasn’t going to help. “And, Dean Lomax, that wasn’t Romeo and Juliet you quoted. That was Hamlet.”
Alex Kramer began to drag Dean Lomax away, then he stopped, turned, and looked my way.
I suppose he could have said a thousand things at that moment. But he didn’t say a word.
He stared at me with a fierce intensity and smiled.
And I felt something I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The dart just barely missed my nose, then kept traveling and hit Granny squarely in the chest. Dominic ran past me, giggling as he ducked between two people playing pool on a packed night at the Library.
“That little pissant just shot me in the boob!” Granny said indignantly.
Katie laughed and threw back a beer. “You’re telling me you still got feeling in your boobs after all these years? I thought the whole point of breastfeeding was to kill all your nerve endings.”
“I think that’s the La Leche League’s new advertising campaign,” I cracked.
“Oh Hell,” Granny scoffed. “We didn’t breastfeed back then. Society was going through one of them phases where they were weirded out about all that stuff… which is probably good because with the amount that I was drinking and smoking. It’s probably best that the daughter didn’t get any of that.”
“You ever wonder where Mom is?”
Granny took a long big sip of her beer. “Every day of my life, darling. Every stinking day.”
Me too, I thought. Me too.
Patrick Crofton’s funeral had been held that morning, and that night, the Library officially reopened after a week’s worth of assorted murder and mayhem. It was good to relax with family and friends, in a place I once called home, a place that seemed just fine with me being back.
“So you really think you screwed the pooch with that editor?” asked Katie.
“Oh yeah, big time. When I told her I had to get some short and curvy hot mom out of jail, she wasn’t buying it.”
Katie smiled nostalgically. “That jail cell was the only peace and quiet I’ve had in the last five years.” She leaned forward. “Do you think we could fix it so Detective Kramer could arrest me on a somewhat regular basis? It’s good for Chris to have to step up at home.”
“Nothing bad happened during your incarceration?”
“Not really. Lucy superglued her fingers together, Dominic picked up some kind of rash I can’t identify, and I’m pretty sure the baby bit the cat.”
“Wait, you have a cat?”
“I tell you my baby bit the cat and your question is do I have a cat?”
We laughed and tipped back our beers. Chris jogged by the table with the baby in his arms and Lucy on his back. He smiled and Katie smiled back.
“You love him, don’t you?”
“Of course, I love the big lug.”
“And was he upset to hear about…?”
“The secret payment from my lover Ed Kline?” Katie made a face.
“You can’t say lover. It’s like saying moist. It’s the worst word in the world.”
“Okay, the secret payment from my moist lover—”
I threw a pretzel at her and she laughed.
“Yes, I should have told him about the loan. Like I said, Ed Kline was a tough and mostly grumpy guy. But he wasn’t all bad. He knew Chris and I were having money trouble: we were overextended on a credit card and he offered to help. He was actually a good guy.”
“A good guy having an affair with his own wife.”
Katie raised an eyebrow. “I did not see that coming.”
“Well, if it hadn’t been for Bess, I wouldn’t have seen it coming either.”
I raised my bottle to Bess and she saw me and smiled. Then she went back to serving customers.
“I can’t believe she actually talked after all these years,” Katie said.
“She said she never had anything important to say…and she hasn’t spoken since.”
“How about the hot detective?” asked Katie.
“Alex?”
“Is there another hot detective I should know about?”
“What about him?” I said.
“Well, after he let me out of my cell, he seemed awfully busy processing the real criminal. Do you think he’ll bother to come back and give Hopeless a proper goodbye at least?”
