Hopscotch Homicide (Zoe Donovan Mystery Book 16) (11 page)

“I need to call Salinger.”

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“So Salinger thinks he’s innocent?” Jeremy asked when I filled him in on everything I’d learned as we worked side by side cleaning animal cages.

“He said that while he agrees my theory has merit, the school secretary told him Principal Bower was in his office the entire afternoon, so he couldn’t have done it,” I said. We finished up in the bear cage and Jeremy refilled the water tubs.

“Did Bower say why he lied about knowing Mrs. Brown was on the campus?” he asked.

“He said he’d forgotten he’d arranged for her to use the kitchen.”

“And Salinger is buying that?” Jeremy asked.

I removed the cleaning equipment from the cage.

“Actually, no,” I said, while Jeremy released the cubs into the freshly cleaned habitat. “He thinks Bower is lying, but we have zero proof he did anything wrong. In my opinion, either the secretary is lying to protect her boss or, more probably, Bower had an accomplice.”

“So what are you going to do?” Jeremy asked as we moved on to the cat room.

“What can I do? My only option is to prove he did it.”

Jeremy handed me new liners and I lined the cat boxes while he disposed of the soiled litter.

“It’s not going to be easy to prove Bower did anything wrong unless you can find some physical evidence to link him to the crime,” Jeremy pointed out as he swept and mopped the floor while I shook out cat beds and pillows.

“Mrs. Brown was holding a button in her hand. I’ve been trying all day to remember what Principal Bower was wearing that day, and I simply can’t. I guess I was really focused on saying whatever I needed to say so he would give Scooter a second chance.”

“Maybe, but I’d think if the man had on a shirt that was missing a button that would have stood out in your mind and you would remember it.”

“True.” I picked up one of the kittens who had been attacking my feet. “I guess he could have changed his shirt. I know a lot of professionals keep spare shirts at their workplace in case they spill something on the one they wore that day. Working in an elementary school, I’m sure spills occur on a regular basis.”

“You mentioned Principal Bower’s secretary is new. If that’s true it doesn’t seem likely she’d have enough loyalty to her boss to lie to the sheriff,” Jeremy pointed out as he washed out some water dishes.

“That’s a good point. Unless he anticipated that he would need an alibi and he bribed her. Or maybe he threatened her job if she didn’t lie for him.”

“Seems like a long shot.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” I set the kitten I was holding down and began filling food dishes. “I still think Bower makes the best suspect at this point.”

“How often is your best suspect actually the guilty party?” Jeremy asked.

“Never,” I admitted.

“So who’s your second-best suspect?”

Jeremy and I finished up in the cat room and moved on to the dog runs. Our part-time summer help had all returned to school and we were pretty full at the moment, thanks to the extra dogs Jeremy had taken in while I was on my honeymoon, making for a long day when it came to maintaining a clean facility.

“I guess Virginia Wilson. She was at the school on the day Mrs. Brown died. She seemed adamant about having her fired, and she lied to me about having support for her quest from the rest of the PTA. Plus she’s pushy and bossy. In all the years I’ve known her, she’s never failed to demonstrate a willingness to do whatever it takes to get her way.”

“You think she’d kill the woman in order to have her removed from her job?” Jeremy looked doubtful.

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Don’t you think the first thing she would have done before killing Mrs. Brown would be seek a meeting with Principal Bower to plead her case?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That would make sense.”

“And if she had done so, wouldn’t Principal Bower have told her that he’d already replaced her?”

“I suppose. Although she didn’t seem to know Mrs. Brown had been fired when I spoke to her, so it appears she hadn’t spoken to Bower.”

“My guess is that she’s one of those people who likes to complain but isn’t really prepared to take action.”

I began washing out water dishes and shaking out dog beds while Jeremy tended to poop control.

“If Principal Bower didn’t do it and Virginia didn’t do it, that really only leaves Trudy on the suspect list, and she seems a weak suspect at best.”

“Maybe Mrs. Brown’s murder has to do with something other than her bad cooking or inappropriate attention to babies,” Jeremy suggested.

“Like what?”

“You mentioned that the reason Yolanda gave her the catering gig for the Boy Scouts was because she was in danger of losing her home. Maybe her death was connected to her financial crisis.”

I frowned. “How?”

Jeremy began securing the hose to the faucet in order to hose down the outdoor runs.

“I don’t know, but I do know the main reasons to kill someone usually lead back to money, love, or to cover up another crime. Did Mrs. Brown have a love interest?”

“Not that I know of.”

“If I was investigating the murder I’d at least look at her finances,” Jeremy said.

“That’s actually a really good idea. I’ll do that. By the way, any hits on the mama cat I found?”

“No,” Jeremy responded. “I posted a photo on the lost-and-found boards in the office and on our Web page. I also checked the lost-and-found ads in the paper and on the bulletin board at the market. So far I haven’t found anyone looking for an orange and white cat. She might have been abandoned. It happens. Folks from the valley come up for the summer and adopt a pet. Then, when it comes time to go home at the end of the season, they leave the pet behind.”

Jeremy made a very sad point. This wouldn’t be the first time we’d rescued a dog or cat that had been left behind by summer visitors.

“I can make room for her here if you’d like,” Jeremy offered.

“No, that’s okay. Mama and babies are fine with us. If we don’t track down the owner we can look for new homes for them after they’re weaned. Alex has really bonded with the mama, so we may end up keeping her if she isn’t claimed.”

“New kids, new cat. Seems like you have a full house.”

“Yeah. Scooter wants a puppy. I don’t think a puppy would be a good fit at this time; maybe a younger dog that’s already housetrained but still has plenty of energy to keep up with a little boy.”

“How about Digger?” Jeremy suggested. “You mentioned you were going to need to rehome him.”

I thought about Jeremy’s suggestion. It was a good one. “Adopting Digger is a great idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“I’ll call Ruby to set up a time when Digger and Scooter can meet each other. Maybe after school today. He has soccer tomorrow, but he isn’t busy this afternoon. Thanks for the idea.”

“Glad I could help.”

After I finished at the Zoo I headed into town to have another chat with Yolanda. I’d promised to come by to talk to her about the Boy Scouts, so I had a perfect excuse to look her up. She worked for a local real estate firm and, from what I understood, was one of the premier Realtors in the area.

Yolanda was tall and thin, with a figure that was certain to garner attention. I knew that in addition to being a top Realtor, she was active in a number of organizations besides the PTA and Boy Scouts, and was considered by most to be an organized and aggressive go-getter. I’d called ahead to make sure she would be in the office and she’d assured me she would be in and happy to provide me with any information I might need.

“I’m so glad you decided to follow up about the Scouts,” Yolanda said as she offered me a chair in the conference room. “It’s an excellent organization and I’m certain Scooter would get a lot out of it.”

“He’s currently playing soccer, so I’m not sure how the two activities will work out from a time-management standpoint, but I wanted to at least get the information.”

“Scouts meet just twice a month on the first and third Wednesday evenings. A lot of our boys also play sports, so while attendance is encouraged, it isn’t mandatory. Our first meeting is next week if you want to try it out. I would encourage Zak to get involved. While we obviously don’t discriminate against mothers, it’s usually the fathers who participate once the boys get to be Scooter’s age.”

Yolanda handed me a packet filled with papers. “The registration forms as well as all the information you’ll need to complete them is provided in the packet. I would encourage you and Zak to look them over and call me if you have any questions.”

“Thank you; we will.”

I set the packet on my lap. “As long as I’m here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions on another subject?”

“The PTA,” Yolanda guessed incorrectly. “Virginia told me that you’re interested in not only joining but helping out on the PTA board. I want to assure you that I welcome your participation. I assume you’ll be at tonight’s meeting?”

I hesitated just a second. The PTA? It didn’t seem like a very Zoe thing to do, but I did want Scooter to be successful at school.

“Yes, I do plan to attend,” I found myself saying.

“Be sure to encourage Zak to come as well. We actually have a lot of fathers on the board.”

“Great, I’ll ask him. However, what I really wanted to ask about was Evelyn Brown.”

“What about Evelyn?” Yolanda sat back in her chair. She crossed her arms across her ample chest and waited for me to continue. She didn’t exactly look hostile, but her friendly smile had faded just a bit.

“I’m working with Sheriff Salinger to help find her killer,” I began.

“Yes, I’d heard you’d been doing that lately.”

“You mentioned the other day that you knew Mrs. Brown had fallen onto hard times and was in danger of losing her home. I was wondering how you knew that.”

“I was acting as her Realtor in her attempt to sell her house.”

“I see.” I was kind of surprised that Mrs. Brown would ask the woman who had so recently tried to get her fired to represent her.

“Let me back up a bit,” Yolanda offered. “Mrs. Brown called the office two months ago and asked to speak to an agent. I was the agent on duty, so she was transferred to me. She told me that she needed to sell her home and wanted our office to list her property for her. I’m certain at that point that she didn’t realize who I was. I considered handing her off to another Realtor in the office, but I have to confess I had a personal interest in the background of the person or persons who might buy the home.”

“A personal interest? Why?”

“My family and I moved in across the street from Mrs. Brown just a few weeks prior to her calling me about the sale of her property. I wasn’t aware when we purchased the property that she lived in the neighborhood, although, to be honest, it wouldn’t have mattered. I’ve always wanted to live in that neighborhood and I got a really good deal on the house.”

“Was Mrs. Brown aware that you’d moved in across the street?” I asked.

“I don’t believe so. We really had only been there a few weeks when the call came in, and she wasn’t the social type. Anyway, we chatted for quite a while before I managed to get her to agree to let me come by to take a look at the property. We set up an appointment for the next day. When she opened the door and saw who I was, she tried to close the door in my face. I apologized for my participation in the campaign to get her fired and explained that I hadn’t understood her situation. I told her that I was no longer after her job. She finally let me in, and eventually she agreed to let me list her house.”

“Did you tell her at that point that you had just moved in across the street?”

Yolanda looked down at her hands. “No, I didn’t. I know I should have, but I really wanted to control the listing. I chose that neighborhood because it’s an established area with a reputation for having a certain type of resident.”

“Type?”

“A bit more upper class than some areas. The homes and yards are all kept up and there don’t seem to be many young families with children.”

“But you have children,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but my children are well behaved. The neighborhood we lived in before moving across from Mrs. Brown started off all right until a bunch of young families with undisciplined children moved in.”

“Did she ever find out that you lived across from her?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. I intentionally kept a low profile when I was at home. If she did realize that I lived across the street she never said anything. She never really spoke to her neighbors. I understand that she had a bad experience with the woman who used to live next door to her.”

“Trudy Blacksmith.”

“Yes, that sounds right.”

“Do you know who moved into the house where Trudy used to live?” I wondered.

“Quinn Baltimore and her family. They have one son who’s around ten, I think, but he’s quiet and doesn’t seem to cause any problems.”

Jeremiah Baltimore was one of the soccer players on Scooter’s team. I made a mental note to introduce myself to his parents the next evening, when we would both be at the field for the first soccer game of the season. Maybe they would have a slightly different view of the murdered woman.