1 Who Killed My Boss? (17 page)

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Authors: Jerilyn Dufresne

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BOOK: 1 Who Killed My Boss?
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I stared at the ceiling. I stared at the floor. I stared at the condensation on my bottle of beer. Anywhere but at George. Just before I was going to break under the pressure, he spoke again.

“Okay, you were right. Don’t speak. Yes, you were right. I fell in the mud and got my tux completely ruined. I was embarrassed beyond belief and didn’t know how to deal with that.”

“So you decided to wait twenty-five years to tell me this?”

“That night I was embarrassed and scared and I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt so stupid and didn’t have enough self-confidence to admit what I’d done. I swore Cal to secrecy. It was too late to rent another tux and I didn’t even own a suit. The next day I called and your mom said you ‘weren’t accepting phone calls from anyone named George Lansing.’ I called you every day for two weeks and you wouldn’t talk to me. I came to your house, I wrote you letters, and finally, I admitted to myself that it was over. You were so angry that you wouldn’t let me explain. Remember that I was a kid too. I made stupid choices, Sam, but so did you. You chose to stay mad all these years, when it could have been over the day after prom.”

For a moment, I noticed the sweet guy I had known. I almost felt some sympathy for him, but I quashed it as it was developing in my heart. “Okay, now you told me. Are you happy?”

“Of course I’m not happy about it. You and I had a great time together all through school. That ended the night of prom. I’ve missed you as a friend. Now that you’re back in town, maybe we can rekindle our friendship.”

I wasn’t going to be that easy, although I wasn’t completely against his suggestion. “We’ll see. Listen, I really want to talk about the crime. That’s the only reason we got together tonight. So tell me what you know.”

“You are such an incurable romantic.” He tore off a piece of Italian bread and began picking it apart absentmindedly.

Yeah, yeah, funny, funny. “Tell me what you know.”

“In a minute.” He had a strange look on his face. I wished I could read his feeble male mind. “I’d like you to go first. This is an official police investigation and I can’t tell you everything. I’ll be glad to share what I can, but you go first.”

Was this a trick, designed to find out what I knew without giving away anything? I had a few minutes to think as our food arrived. My favorite meal again, pasta primavera and a house salad. I changed to white wine with the meal, although another beer would have tasted good too. George drove me to drink and that was a fact.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I know, but you gotta promise that you’ll tell me some stuff too. Promise?”

Mouth bulging with food, he nodded. I took that to mean he agreed, but with George you never knew.

“Here’s the scoop. I already told you that Carolyn killed her husband. Well, you know today I found Carolyn Burns snooping through confidential files in her husband’s office. She said she was looking for some insurance papers, but that file cabinet only contains patient folders. You came in and took her downtown, so I hope she told you the truth about what she was doing.” I waited expectantly, but he was mum. Not being real comfortable with silence, I continued.

“What you don’t know is that a little later I was talking to Gwen Schneider and her brother in my office. I had a feeling something was going on again and for some reason Gwen kept looking at the door, as if she knew something was happening on the other side. The upshot is that I opened the door to Burns’ office, knocked Carolyn on her butt, and while I was laughing my head off, Carolyn, Charlie and Gwen left the scene.”

He was surprised but not shocked. “Together?”

I nodded. “She came back to the clinic after you let her go from the station. She was snooping through the files again, I bet.” I punctuated my accusations with my fork beating against the plate.

“Did you see her snooping again?”

“No, but I bet she was. Why else would she be there?”

“Did you ever think that she might be getting some of her husband’s things from his office? Doesn’t that make more sense than assuming she was snooping?” He scooped another mouthful of pasta onto his fork.

“Remember I told you that during my initial interview Burns got a phone call. I don’t know who he was talking to, but he got really angry and said something about having something for the person next week. He also said ‘Leave me alone or you’ll be sorry.’ Maybe he was talking to Carolyn.”

George took a drink of beer before responding. “Maybe he was talking to Fred Flintstone.”

I didn’t get caught up in his sarcasm. “George, she did it. That’s all there is to it. She did it and you won’t believe me.”

That stupid condescending look again. God, he made me mad. Just when I was almost ready to begin the long forgiveness process.

“And she left with Gwen Schneider.” No reaction. “The widow left my office with the mistress.”

God, what was going to make a dent in that Herman Munster countenance of his?

I tried again. “Okay, listen. I get so violently dizzy around her that I sometimes pass out. Really. And you know I’m not a wimp, I’m not the fainting type. These feelings of mine are real. I guess I’ve never been around a murderer before, so this reaction is a lot more powerful than my usual ones.”

“If that’s the case, I understand you’ve been dizzy around O’Dear, too. So, if that’s one of the criteria for being a murderer, it looks like he fits the bill also.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid.” I dismissed his notion with a wave of a piece of bread. “Just arrest Carolyn and get it over with. Once you have her in your clutches, I know she’ll tell you who her accomplice is. And it’s not Michael O’Dear.” I wouldn’t admit to him that the same thought had been bugging me. Why was I off-balance around Michael so much of the time? It didn’t make any sense to me. Just because he was the first guy I’d really fallen for since my divorce, that was no reason for me to be sick. Or was it? I was confused.

“I can’t arrest someone on your hunches. Stay out of it. Let me do my work. If Carolyn Burns did it, then we’ll find some evidence and arrest her. If she didn’t do it, we’ll find who did. You’ll only get in the way. So please stop. Now, let’s enjoy our meal and conversation.”

Nice try. Thought he could pat me on the head and I’d shut up like a good little girl.

“Nope, your turn. You tell me what I want to know. This stuff is driving me up the wall. I know she did it, but I don’t know how to prove it. Now you hold up your end of the deal. Spill it.”

“Well, there’s a few things I can tell you. Things that are pretty well known around here.”

God, could he drag it out any more? “C’mon, tell me.”

“Okay, but remember I’m only telling you this because it’s common knowledge.” He wiped up the final dregs of marinara sauce with bread.

Yawn. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Carolyn was not Burns’ first wife.” George took a second to lick his fingers clean and utter a contented sigh. “And Gwen was not Burns’ first mistress. In fact, Carolyn was his first mistress when he was married to his first wife.” A self-satisfied grin covered his face.

I needed a score card to keep up with this. “Burns apparently had an eye for the ladies. Who was his first wife? And where is she?”

“Her name is Claudia Wolfe Burns and oddly enough, she recently moved back to Quincy.”

I know my eyes must have lit up. This woman was Carolyn’s accomplice. It all fit. I just needed to meet her and to see how she “felt.”

It all made sense now. Claudia was mad at Burns because of Carolyn. Carolyn was mad because of Gwen. And Gwen was probably mad because of the new one, whoever she was.

Claudia Wolfe Burns. That name sounded so familiar. I smacked myself on the head as it suddenly dawned on me that it was the name of the villain in
Bipolar Passion
, one of Carolyn’s better books. Something didn’t feel right about the scenario, but it did make sense. I needed to get more dirt from George.

George chuckled before I could ask him anything. “Why did you hit yourself in the head?”

I ignored his question and got to one of my own. “So, why was Gwen released? Tell me the truth. Was it really because you heard her partial confession by eavesdropping, but you couldn’t catch all of it?” Now it was my turn to chuckle. I could barely suppress my laughter, remembering how I’d caught him leaning against my office door.

“That’s not important,” he wiggled out of it. “But I do have some other stuff I can tell you.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

He smiled again. “Apparently, some patients were going to sue Burns…”

I interrupted, “I know that. Michael told me.”

“Yeah, but do you know why?”

“Maybe because files were lost or misplaced?”

I was just guessing, but it did make sense. It seemed unusual that Dr. Burns had a complete set of patient files in his office.

“Nope. This is pretty hush-hush so I don’t know why I’m telling you…”

“Maybe you’re captivated by my beauty,” I joked.

He got serious. “Something like that.”

For a moment he had an almost dreamy look in his eye but quickly shook it away. “Anyway a few patients thought that the descriptions in Felicia Greene’s books struck pretty close to home. Some said they recognized themselves as characters.”

“Wow, that makes sense. I saw Carolyn at the file cabinet. Did she steal the records?”

“Nothing was proven, and as of now people have withdrawn their suits since Burns’ death. I’m going to be talking to them within the next few days though.”

I couldn’t hold myself back. Putting both my hands on his across the table, I said, “Please, please, please, let me go with you.”

He merely shook his head. And didn’t remove my hands.

“Okay, I understand you can’t do that, but will you please tell me what they say? Please.” I knew I was bordering on begging and that it was unattractive, but I was desperate.

“You know I can’t promise to tell you anything else. Put the case aside and let’s just relax and enjoy the rest of our evening.” He adroitly changed the subject as I removed my hands. “Hey, I saw Cal the other day. He heard you were back in town and said to tell you hi.”

Cal. Calvin Joseph Wade. B.H.’s partner in crime. His sidekick. His best friend in high school. Which meant he was our constant partner in double dating. And since he had the personality of a lizard and couldn’t get up the nerve to ask anyone out, I always had to fix him up with my friends. After one date, they were no longer my friends.

“Ah, Cal. How is he?” Hopefully, George could tell that I really didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

He didn’t take the hint so we talked about how Cal was doing, and that led us into talking about old times again.

For a while I quit obsessing on the murder and enjoyed myself in spite of myself, surprising myself.

SIXTEEN

C
lancy and I had
just settled in for a good round of gossip when there was a loud knocking on the door. Again, I made the mistake of not looking before I opened it. I almost wished it had been the murderer.

In front of me was Georgianne, practically foaming at the mouth. She careened through the door before I had a chance to shut it in her face.

I forced myself to be cordial. After all, the house was in her name and I didn’t want to be evicted.

She was not in the mood for friendly banter. “I am tired of people looking in your window all the time when you are gone. You promised me that there would be no further loitering and—.”

“Lollygagging.”

“Hmm?”

“I promised there would be no lollygagging. I don’t think that loitering was ever mentioned.”

She started pacing. “Don’t you play games with me, young lady. There was a woman looking in your windows, and then another woman, then a man, and then another woman. Tell them to stop it. I cannot tolerate all of this stress. Having to look outside every time I hear a noise, it’s hard on my nerves.”

“How can I tell them to stop when I don’t know who they are? Who are they, Georgianne?”

“I don’t know, but make them stop. Your dog barks and I want to calm her down. She’s a bit nicer than I thought.” At that she stopped pacing and stooped to pet Clancy. “Gus says I can’t just use our key anytime I think it’s needed. But I told him I thought you’d want me to. So I came out to check on this darling dog and…‌By the way, don’t you think ‘Clancy’ sounds rather common? She really looks more like a ‘Fluffy’ or a ‘Princess’ or perhaps…”

“Georgianne.”

“Yes?” She didn’t even have the good sense to look a little embarrassed.

“Focus. Tell me about the people who were looking into my house.”

“Well, I didn’t see them clearly because I don’t like to pry. However, the first woman didn’t look familiar to me at all. The second one looked remarkably like Carolyn Burns, although what she’d be doing here, I wouldn’t even try to guess. Perhaps she’s a bit miffed that you are spreading rumors about her being the murderer.”

“Back on track, Georgianne. Who was the guy?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, although he did look a bit like the one who was here the other night. Remember before the gas leak? And, Sam, Gus and I are so sorry about that leak. We were so sure everything was in tip-top shape back there. We feel just awful about your troubles.”

“Awful enough to pay for my hospital bill? My insurance won’t kick in for a month.” I knew there was a chance it wasn’t Gus and Georgianne’s fault, that the murderer may have done it, but I couldn’t help myself. Georgianne appears and I must say or do something to get her goat.

“Well, I’m sure something can be…‌now weren’t we talking about those prowlers? Let’s see the final one wasn’t someone I’d seen often. But I think she was that Schneider woman.”

Oh-oh, Georgianne looked like she was going to sit down and settle in. I had to stop her at all costs.

“Thanks for the information and I really appreciate your diligence in watching my place. Clancy, kiss Georgianne good-night.”

What fun this was. I suppose I should’ve felt bad about the look of utter distaste and shock that covered Georgianne’s face. But, nope, I reveled in it.

I didn’t enjoy it however when Clancy kissed her and Georgianne absolutely swooned. I’d have to talk to Gus about what he was doing, or not doing, in the kissing department.

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