Schooled in Deceit: A Lacamas Village Cozy Mystery, Book 1, page 4
“Call me Lisa.” She sighed deeply and looked at me, shaking her head. “They were here for hours last night looking through his things.”
That would explain the deep bags under her eyes. Well, that and the grief.
“When did you find out about his death?”
She hesitated. “I got home about seven-thirty and the police were waiting in the driveway.”
“That must have been such a shock.” If she were innocent, I added in my mind. I hated myself a little for questioning her, but I pressed on. “If you don’t mind me asking, where were you?”
She bit her lip, then looked up and away. The words came out in a rush.
“Shopping?” She nodded to herself as if she had decided the answer was correct. “Yes, I was shopping when my husband was killed. It seems ridiculous that I was doing something so… so… ordinary when he was dying.”
I raised an eyebrow, puzzled by her response.
“Where were you shopping?” I asked as casually as I could.
She glanced at me sharply, then waved a hand. “Where? Somewhere in Portland. Why did you ask me that?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” I threw a look to Perla for help.
“She really didn’t,” Perla jumped in. “The police asked everyone in the neighborhood about their alibis, and Misty just got carried away here.”
I pursed my lips and glared at Perla, who wouldn’t meet my eyes. Yes, I was the one who got carried away and that was why we were here interrogating a new widow.
Perla patted Lisa’s hand, which Lisa pulled away.
“Have you made plans for the funeral?” Perla asked.
Lisa shook her head. “The police haven’t released the body, but I am already calling relatives to let them know.”
“What about Samuel’s son, Daniel?” Perla asked. “Is he helping you?”
She nodded. “He was on the phones with me as well, calling relatives.”
“He must be devastated,” I said, peering closely at Lisa.
She hesitated again as if unsure how much to say. “They had a tough relationship at times, but of course he is extremely sad.”
“Is he here now?” I asked, looking pointedly at the two wine glasses.
“No,” Lisa said hurriedly, standing and gathering the wine glasses. “He was here last night, but he went home. He’ll be back later to help me.”
She held one stem in each hand and gestured with them. “These were left over from last night. I just never got around to putting them in the sink.”
She hurried out of the room. The glasses clink-clinked against the countertop in the kitchen. Lisa strode back into the room and sat back down, pasting a bland expression on her face.
Perla stood and walked toward the picture window, throwing her words behind her. “I hope it’s okay to ask this, Lisa.” She turned to face her. “Samuel did leave you with enough to live on, didn’t he? I know you had a stringent pre-nup, but surely he left you comfortable?”
Lisa’s mouth fell open. “How did you know about the pre-nup?”
Perla hesitated. We exchanged a glance. “This is awkward,” she finally said. “I thought it was common knowledge in the neighborhood.”
Lisa’s face reddened, then she lifted her chin defiantly. “Of course, we had a pre-nup. Anyone who goes into a marriage later in life has one. It keeps both parties safe.”
It sounded to me like she parroted words Samuel had told her. Not that she was wrong.
“And, yes,” she went on. “As I told the police, of course, Samuel left me well off. He recently changed his will to make sure that I was provided for.” She smiled ruefully. “I guess after twenty years, he figured I wasn’t a gold-digger after all. He loved me. He wanted me to be taken care of.”
“So you actually ended up better off than if you had gotten a divorce?” Perla asked, her eyes wide with what I assume was faked innocence.
Lisa sputtered for a moment, as if not sure how to take the question. “Why would I have gotten a divorce, Perla? Samuel and I were happy together.”
“Do you get the house?” Perla asked flatly. My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened. I could not believe she just asked that.
Lisa barked out a laugh, clearly nervous about the topic. “The police asked that, too. Of course, I did. It’s my home. Samuel would never allow me to be homeless.”
Perla’s face looked skeptical. Lisa took umbrage.
“He was a good man, Perla, even if you two did disagree sometimes. Sure, he got cranky, but he did it out of a good place.” Tears welled up again, but this time, they seemed to be tears of anger. “I know people talked because of the age difference. I loved him, and he loved me.”
She stood abruptly. “Now I’d like to be alone.”
Perla and I walked to the front door, Lisa following closely behind as if to herd us out.
As soon as we stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, she thanked us and closed the door firmly in place.
We looked at each other, then stepped carefully down the stairs.
“She’s lying about something,” Perla said quietly.
I nodded in agreement. “The question, of course, is what?”
Chapter 8
Perla started down the circle toward her house, and I headed back to Audra’s. My phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at it. Rodney again.
Babe, tell me where you are. We can work this out.
I stared at the text. I just left a woman whose husband had died. How would I feel if Rodney died? After hesitating, I swiped to answer.
How can we work this out? More importantly, why should we work this out? I’m just not sure right now.
I stared at the phone longer than I probably should have. No reply.
Jerk.
Slipping the phone back into my pocket, I gazed longingly toward the lake. One of my goals this summer was to spend a lot of time walking that lake trail. I wasn’t going to let a possible murder that I had nothing to do with stop me.
I changed shoes and put on a ball cap, then paused before I headed out the door. Someone had just been murdered, after all. I stopped in the garage, rummaging in the pocket behind the driver’s seat until I found what I was looking for.
Tucking the pepper spray into my jacket pocket, I rerouted to the front door, pausing to lock it behind me.
From the research I had done for my mystery novel, I knew that most murders were committed by people familiar to the victim. A random hiker probably wouldn’t stop and beat a total stranger over the head with a rock. But I patted my pocket just the same. Better safe than sorry and all that.
This time as I stepped down to the street, I looked both ways before heading across the cul-de-sac. I didn’t need any other neighbors nearly run me down and be found dead later.
I opened the gate leading from the neighborhood to the trail and loped past the bench where I had found Mr. Wiggins, careful to keep my eyes averted.
“Hey! Audra’s sister!” A voice caught me off-guard. I stumbled on a rock and nearly fell, instead twisting my ankle as I turned toward the voice.
The blond man in the hoodie from last night stood just outside the shed, a life vest in his gloved hand. He waved.
“You’re Audra’s sister, right? The one house-sitting this summer?”
He set the life vest on top of a kayak that was lying face down beside him, then walked toward me. I stood on one leg turning my ankle in circles to see if it was sprained.
“Are you all right?” he asked, worry on his face. “I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name.”
I waved off his concerns as I set down my foot. “Misty Michaels. What can I do for you?”
“I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Elijah Douglas. I’m the president of the homeowners’ association here.” He held out a hand for me to shake. “You work at Perla’s store,” he added. “We met yesterday morning.”
I nodded and shook his hand.
“I just wanted to introduce myself again,” he said. “I like to keep an eye on the neighborhood, feel kind of responsible for it, you know how that goes.”
“Nice to meet you again. Good to know someone is watching out for things.” My eyes involuntarily glanced toward the bench where Mr. Wiggins had died. I swung them back to Elijah, holding up a hand. “I’m so sorry if that sounded wrong. I didn’t mean that sarcastically.”
His smile was tight across his face. “It’s okay. I’ve been kicking myself all night.” He pointed behind him. “I keep wondering if I hadn’t had the music up so loud or been so focused on what I was doing, if I might have saved him.”
He peered closer at me, the little lines between his eyebrows bunching up in concern.
“You found him last night, didn’t you?”
I nodded, turning toward the bench with a sigh.
“How are you feeling? I imagine that was quite a shock.”
I held out my hand and seesawed it back and forth, then gestured toward the trail. “I thought a walk would help me clear my head and do me good.”
“That always works for me.” His face brightened marginally. “Don’t let me keep you, and do keep a close eye out down there. The police don’t know yet what exactly happened to Samuel.”
I nodded in response, then turned away, suddenly a little more nervous about walking on the trail alone, even though I had the pepper spray in my pocket. But now that Elijah guy had planted some worry in my mind. I pulled my hoodie tighter and walked a little faster.
I turned the opposite way than I had started the day before, stepping lightly over a few rocks and tree roots growing up in the trail. I tried to keep one eye on the trail and one eye on the lake, which shimmered in the morning sunlight. My shoulders relaxed. I paused at one of the viewing areas and stretched up my arms, then swung them around me to loosen up more. I turned my head from side to side to ease my tight neck.
Once I felt looser, I headed back to the path, picking up my pace to raise my heart rate would.
I was so focused on the trail that I didn’t hear the two women until they came around a bend in the trail and nearly ran over me.
I yelped. So did they.
One wearing a bright red rain jacket put her hand on her heart. “Goodness, you about gave me a heart attack.”
“You’re fine,” the other woman said brusquely, patting her shoulder. She looked at me apologetically. “We haven’t seen too many people here this morning, so we weren’t expecting you.”
I waved away her words. “I was daydreaming, so I wasn’t paying attention.” Then I paused. “You haven’t seen anyone?”
They exchanged a look and shook their heads at me.
The woman in red leaned toward me as if she had a secret. “We think it’s because of the murder last night,” she said in a low voice. “A man got killed right at the trailhead. The police just took down the crime scene tape this morning.”
My mouth opened and closed. The appropriate response seemed to escape me.
The other woman nodded, adding, “Apparently, someone from California did it.”
She said California with such disdain that my hackles went right up.
I leaned toward them and whispered. “I’m from California.”
Then I smiled. They leaned away from me, so I stepped around them. “Have a good hike.”
I moved down the trail, acknowledging to myself that I had a mean streak. Now, though, I was nervous that they hadn’t seen anyone else on the trail. On the one hand, that was a good thing. It meant I could hike in peace. On the other hand, I could be alone on the trail with a killer.
I spotted a metal bench up ahead beneath the overhanging limbs of a tree. Breathing in deeply, I settled onto the bench and pondered the past couple of days.
How had this happened? It was easy to blame Rodney. My heart clenched. No! I wouldn’t go there right now. I pushed aside thoughts of my husband and studied the water before me. So calm on the top, but I could see small fish darting beneath the surface.
The lake was much like this neighborhood. The outward façade appeared put together, but drama skulked just below.
Rather than think about my old life with Rodney, I let my mind drift toward Samuel Wiggins’ murder. Who besides his wife had a motive? Audra mentioned the neighbor on the other side of the Wigginses. What was his name? It started with an L, but I was sure it wasn’t Larry.
I wondered if Wiggins had any business partners he was still tied to. Business partners also made good murder suspects, if TV shows were to be believed.
My phone buzzed. Against my better judgment, my heart leapt when I saw it was from Rodney.
Come home and we’ll figure it out. Followed by a heart emoji.
I gave a small smile, my thumb gently rubbing the face of the phone as if I could reach him. It buzzed again.
Where is the syrup?
My lips pursed and I clicked off the phone without answering, shoving it back into my jacket pocket.
I played with the wedding ring on my finger. I had stuck it back on my finger in a sentimental moment last night. My marriage had always fit me like a warm coat. What would happen if I took it off for good? I stared at my finger and blew out a breath. In spite of everything, I wasn’t quite ready to find out.
Chapter 9
As I walked back across the cul-de-sac and toward home, a man swept the sidewalk in front of the home of Wiggins’ neighbor.
Not that I was investigating or anything, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, right?
I followed the sidewalk as it curved around so I would have an excuse to talk with him. I held up my hand in a wave as I got closer.
He paused in his sweeping and returned my wave.
He gestured to Audra’s house. “Are you Audra’s sister who is house-sitting this summer?”
“That’s me.” I held out my hand. He shook it with a relaxed smile. “I’m Misty Michaels.”
“Lindell Stevenson. I saw you outside yesterday.”
Lindell! That was his name. I knew it wasn’t Larry.
My eyebrows shot up as he went back to sweeping. “I didn’t think the homeowners around here did their own chores,” I blurted.
Lindell laughed, revealing straight white teeth that only an orthodontist could provide against his dark skin. Then he held up the broom and studied it.
“It helps me think,” he said. “Sometimes I need to physically work at something while my brain works at something else.”
Now that I was closer to him, I could tell his clothes reeked of quality. His khakis had pleats and his worker-like shirt looked like it wicked away moisture.
“A lot on your mind lately?” I asked, then held out a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Lindell turned back to sweeping. “No offense taken. I appreciate the interest.” He swept half-heartedly for a moment before looking at me. “And, yes, just a lot on my mind. Life, you know?”
He waved toward his late neighbor’s house, then tilted his head as he looked at me. “Samuel’s death shines a flashlight on it all. I heard you were the one to find him.”
I watched him closely, then slowly nodded, girding myself for his reaction. Was he going to accuse me of killing Wiggins, too?
With both hands around the broom handle, he studied me in return. “I’m sorry that you had to find him.”
“Me, too.” I spoke in earnest. I really was sorry that I was the one to find him. “I didn’t kill him,” I added suddenly.
Lindell leaned away from me, a half-smile on his face. “I would have been surprised if you had.” His lips pursed and his head tilted to the side. “Samuel took some getting used to, but he wasn’t a bad guy.”
“Where were you when he was killed?” I asked, hurriedly adding, “I hear the police have asked everyone in the circle.”
Lindell swept with a little more zest. “I was in Portland, running some errands.”
My mouth fell in disappointment. “Your house overlooks the lake. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”
Lindell’s eyes shot up to mine and he jerked away. “No! Of course not. I just told you I was across the river.”
His eyes narrowed and he peered at me.
“You’ve been talking to Perla Daniels, haven’t you?”
My mouth fell open and I grinned sheepishly. “You know how she is,” I said, waving my hand in the general direction of Perla’s house. “She sure knows how to stir things up.”
He shook his head and went back to sweeping. Clearly, he did not have a good impression of Perla.
I tried one more time. “She did say that you had been wanting to buy Mr. Wiggins’ property and he didn’t want to sell.”
He fumbled the broom, then leaned toward me. Sticking a finger toward my chest, he punctuated the words as he spoke. “It’s not a crime to ask someone if their house is for sale. That doesn’t mean I killed the man, which is what you’re implying.”
He looked at me pointedly in case I missed what he was saying. He stepped closer. I gulped.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming over here to interrogate me. You didn’t even know Samuel Wiggins. Why are you sticking your nose into this anyway?”
“Lindell, lunch is ready!” A voice from the top of his driveway drew both of our attention. A pleasant-looking woman stood on the porch. She waved at me, too. I waved back, assuming she thought I was Audra.
Then I turned back to the clearly distraught man. “The police seem to think I did it,” I said quietly. “I didn’t.”
He stopped, his broom hanging limply at his side. “Neither did I.”
With that, I turned and walked away with as much dignity as I could muster. Lindell didn’t strike me as a killer, though I don’t know if I’d recognize one if one walked up to me on the street.
I strode quickly to the house and nearly reached the stairs before I noticed someone waiting for me in the shadow by the door. Startled, I leapt back.
The person at the top of the stairs turned.
“Ms. Michaels,” said Detective Crandall. “So glad I didn’t miss you.”
Chapter 10
