Murder Is Private (4 page)

Chapter 6

Audrey picked them up at the hotel before dinner. Barely a stone’s throw from the school, Audrey’s two-story house was nestled between two others in a cookie cutter neighborhood, with zero lot lines.

“Home, sweet home,” said Audrey. “Let me help you get settled in your home away from home. You’ll always be welcome here.”

Two lovely guest rooms, separated by a bathroom, greeted them at the top of the staircase. Susan’s room was painted pastel pink with a mural of a beach scene on the wall opposite the four poster bed. It felt peaceful and soothing after a long day. Susan couldn’t wait to crawl under the thick duvet. She would never admit it to Lynette, but teaching all day was exhausting. Her feet ached in spite of her Easy Spirit comfort sandals.

“And Lynette, you and the baby will be in here,” said Audrey. The other guest room was sky blue, with white shabby chic furniture. An electric diffuser filled the room with a sweet vanilla scent. Susan inhaled the heavenly fragrance and made a note to buy one when she got back home.

“I borrowed a portable crib for Annalise. Let’s go downstairs and order in. There’s a Chinese place down the road as well as a pizzeria. They both deliver.”

“I could go for some Schezuan Chicken,” said Lynette.

Susan wanted it all––fried dumplings, eggrolls, sesame chicken––but said, “I’ll take the steamed broccoli and vegetables.” Her birthday was coming up and she’d promised herself a year and ten pounds ago that she’d get down to her goal weight before then. All this Florida sunshine and the threat of facing the beach in a bathing suit infused her with will power.

“School closes early tomorrow so we can attend Celia’s funeral,” said Audrey. “Her husband has to be devastated. Even he must feel the loss.”

What did she mean by that?
Susan shrugged it off for now. She was glad she’d packed a black dress. “We’ll be there with you.”

“You don’t have to go!” said Audrey. “You didn’t even know her. You and Lynette should spend the afternoon at the beach with Annalise.”

“No, Audrey,” replied Susan firmly. “We’re here to support you. Tomorrow will be difficult to get through. That’s what family is for.” She surprised herself when those words tumbled so easily from her mouth. She had been unsure how she’d feel when she met her birth mother, but she now realized a bond was forming.

Chapter 7

Is it morning already?
Susan woke up under the mint green duvet and rolled over to look at the clock. School would be closing at two. The funeral was scheduled for three. She’d still be teaching most of her classes. She jumped in the shower and slipped on a black dress.

Coffee.
She could smell the delightful brew all the way upstairs.
Thanks, Audrey.

She popped a frozen muffin into the microwave and ate it as she walked to school. Students were already waiting outside her door when she arrived.

“Let’s start with a few dictation exercises,” said Susan. Starr’s eyes were red. Bibi looked solemn; her hair was covered with a black hijab, and she wore a long black skirt. Susan knew the funeral would be tough for all the students.

“Manolito. Put the phone away,” said Susan. Cellphones. Now that’s something she never had to deal with during her career.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wiles. I was texting Trish to see if she was coming to the funeral. She and Mrs. Watkins were very close.” He sounded like he was about to cry.

Susan felt a pang of guilt for thinking he was simply bored with class. “Do you expect her to come? Does she live nearby?”

“She lives a few hours away in The Cottages. It’s in Central Florida.”

“I don’t think she’s well enough yet,” said Bibi. “I hope this news doesn’t set her back. She loved Mrs. Watkins. They talked on the bench outside the auditorium almost every day.” Susan wondered if Trish’s overdose was connected to Celia’s death. If so, what was the common link?

The morning flew by. Susan stopped at the cafeteria to buy lunch––spaghetti, meatballs, garlic bread, and cheesecake. She’d never had any luck kicking her habit of stress eating. At least the portions were small. She carried her tray to the teachers’ lounge and sat down with several faculty members. A handsome, olive-skinned gentleman introduced himself as Alonzo Benitez, the orchestra conductor. He spoke with a Spanish accent.

“I can’t believe Celia is gone. She used to sit right in the seat you’re sitting in at lunch every day.” A chill ran up Susan’s spine. “So glad you could help us out,” he continued. “Poor Audrey. With all the chaos going on, at least she doesn’t have to worry about getting a substitute.”

“Celia was one of a kind. I’m Robert Schwartz. Everyone calls me Schwartz––except for the students, that is.” A silver-haired man with twinkly blue eyes and a hint of a German accent extended a strong hand. “I teach European History.”

“You were both close to Celia, I take it.”

“She was a great person,” said Alonzo.

Robert gazed at the floor. “Yes, she was a fine teacher. I
never
saw her outside of school.” He emphasized the word
never
.

After lunch, Susan prepared for the chorus rehearsal. Teaching chorus had been her favorite part of her job. While waiting for the bell to ring, she overheard a conversation between two students.

“That test was a killer. Just because Mr. Schwartz lives and breathes World War II doesn’t mean he should expect all of us to spit back all those dates and things he gives us.”

“You have to admit some of it’s fascinating,” said the other student. “Wish he didn’t test us on all of it though.”

“He probably makes a lot of it up,” continued the first student. “Nazis hiding instruments in farm houses? Who’d ever know? Guess he won’t be hanging out at our rehearsals now that Mrs. Watkins is gone.”
What did that mean?
wondered Susan
. Schwartz had acted like he and Celia were just casual acquaintances, so what was he doing hanging out at her chorus rehearsals?

Susan got the rehearsal underway. While conducting, she glanced out the window. She saw Schwartz going into the auditorium.
Why’s he going in there? The history building is the other direction.
A few minutes later, she saw George going in after him. Strange again.
Shouldn’t George be attending to the leaves that are littering the walkways, and the overgrown grass?
She conducted her way through the rehearsal, then dismissed the students to attend the funeral. It would be an emotional afternoon for them, she knew. Celia Watkin’s death had shocked everyone Susan had spoken to.
Just one more thing I need to do before I leave,
she thought
.

Susan walked over to the auditorium and peeked in the window. The inside was dark and she was unable to see anything. She walked around front and pulled on the door handle. Unlocked. She stepped inside and scanned the lobby. Empty.
Maybe they went into the auditorium.
She walked up and down both aisles, checking each row of seats. Then, she went onto the stage and nosed around.
Where did they go?
She thought about checking the second floor, but heard the heavy exterior door slam shut before she reached the lobby.

Chapter 8

The packed church was oppressive under the weight of grief. Susan could hardly breathe. Annalise was squirming in Lynette’s arms, and Susan worried she’d soon start fussing. Looking down the pew and at the row in front of her, she couldn’t spot anyone who was not holding a tissue or wailing into a handkerchief. She saw Schwartz and Alonzo. Alonzo was keeping a firm face, but Schwartz was bawling like a kid who’d just dropped his ice cream out of the cone. It struck Susan as odd, remembering how he’d insisted that he’d never seen Celia outside of school.

At the cemetery, the sun beat down on the congregation. Contrasting the somber occasion, trees flaunted yellow pops of sunshine and deep purple blooms. A group of Celia’s students sang a mournful hymn. Friends and family tossed roses on the white casket. Funerals were always sad, whether you knew the deceased or not. Susan’s heart ached for Audrey as well as for Celia’s students.

“How are you holding up?” she asked Audrey.

“Not well. I worked with Celia for more than a decade. I was quite fond of her. None of this makes any sense. Who would want Celia dead?”

Just at that moment, Kevin, the detective, made his was over. His hazel eyes danced when he looked at Lynette.
Did he just give her the once over? Here at the funeral?
observed Susan.

“Lynette, how’s the arm doing?” he asked.

“Getting better, but if I have to hold Annalise much longer it’ll be the other arm I’ll have to worried about.” Annalise was fast asleep, her head tucked under Lynette’s chin.

“Thanks for that piece of potential evidence, Mrs. Wiles,” said Kevin. “Turns out it was synthetic hair wrapped around the rubber band.”

“Like a wig or something?” Susan asked.

“Or a weave,” he replied.

“Mom, you gave Kevin evidence? When did you sneak back to the crime scene?”

“I didn’t
sneak
back,” replied Susan, “and I stayed outside of the yellow tape. I just saw what I thought might be a clue, picked it up with a tissue so I wouldn’t destroy finger prints, and gave it to Kevin. You can’t scold me for that.”

“You never asked me to go back to the crime scene with you,” said Lynette. “You knew I’d discourage you.”

Susan changed the subject. “Kevin, did you know Celia?”

“Never met her. When there’s a homicide, I try to show up at the services and do a little people watching. Sometimes the murderer is right there mourning the loss, and you can tell a lot from observing people’s behavior.”

“Any progress?” asked Lynette.

“I uncovered an interesting tidbit. Celia Watkins had scheduled an appointment with my partner. She was supposed to meet with him the day after she was killed.”

“Does he know what she wanted?” said Lynette.

“She told him she had some crucial information to share. I really shouldn’t be going into this,” added Kevin.
But you did,
thought Susan. Lynette would have been tight-lipped. It took lots of prying to get info from her.

Susan jumped at the sound of arguing. Lynette, Audrey, and Kevin all spun around to see what the fuss was about. Schwartz and Celia’s husband were screaming at each other. Audrey had pointed out Derrick Watkins earlier.

“It’s all your fault!” screamed Derrick. His neck veins bulged.

“You son of a ….”

There was a collective gasp from the onlookers as Derrick punched Schwartz right in the face––so hard that his nose was bleeding.

Kevin quickly pulled the men away from each other.

“Gentleman, this is inappropriate behavior on any given day, but at a funeral? Your wife’s funeral?” He spoke directly to Derrick. Then he turned to Schwartz. Someone had given him a handkerchief for his nose, but already it was soaked through with blood. “Mr. Schwartz, would you like to press charges?”

Schwartz took a deep breath through his mouth. “No, not this time.” He addressed Derrick, “But if you ever come near me again, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m taking you to the emergency room. Your nose may be broken,” said Kevin.

Kevin drove off with Schwartz, while Derrick hung his head down and hightailed it to the parking area.

“Audrey,” asked Susan, “what was that about? Schwartz only knew Celia as a colleague. Why was Derrick going after him?”

“I have no idea,” said Audrey. “I wasn’t aware they knew each other at all. Maybe Schwartz cut him off in the parking lot or something. It wouldn’t take much. Derrick has a hot temper. I’ve seen it before. Celia was afraid of him when he got like that.”

“I would have been afraid, too,” said Susan. “Derrick seemed enraged. If he’s so hot-tempered, do you think he could’ve gotten angry enough at Celia to whack her over the head and kill her?”

Chapter 9

In the days following the funeral, the school began to regain its beat. The students went back to practicing, dancing, and studying. Starr reminded Susan about the concert at the nursing home that evening. Susan looked forward to attending it. After dinner, she showered and changed into a cotton sundress.

“Lynette, are you ready to go?”

“I’m coming.”

 
Audrey said she was too exhausted to go with them and volunteered to stay home with Annalise.

Susan and her daughter enjoyed the walk to the concert. “Lynette, that’s the building.” The sun was going down and a slight breeze brushed against Susan’s face. She took off her sweater. Cool by Florida’s standards was summer to a New Yorker. Lynette had put her hair up, off her neck. Impressive with her one good arm.

“Blends right in with the other buildings,” said Lynette. “If you didn’t read the sign, you’d never know it was an assisted living home. That’s the kind of place we’ll put you in, Mom. You’ll be able to watch black and white movies while you eat your Jell-O.” Lynette giggled. Susan gave her a swat.

As soon as they went inside, Susan heard the familiar sound of strings warming up. Folding chairs were set up in the home’s solarium. Nurses wheeled patients in, while ambulatory residents hobbled along with the aid of a walker or cane. Susan waved to Starr. The audience clapped as Alonzo came through the side door with his baton.

Susan whispered to Lynette as he was about the start, “I love this Telemann Suite.”

Lynette put her finger to her lips as she whispered, “Shh.”

Susan instinctively did a bit of people watching as the orchestra played. Didn’t Kevin say you could learn a lot by noticing people’s behavior? Susan wasn’t sure what she was looking for. After all, she doubted any of the people here were involved in Celia’s murder. However, Celia did bring choral groups over to perform here a lot. Maybe she could learn something. Her eyes fell on a male nurse standing at a doorway. Something about his scraggly beard and crumpled scrubs looked out of place. During the number’s second movement, Susan watched him slip out. His patient was fast asleep in his wheelchair, snoring like a freight train. And Lynette was worried that
she
was disturbing the concert by whispering.

The second piece required fewer strings, so several student musicians exited through the side door. Sometime later, the male nurse returned to his post by the main door. He kicked the snoring patient’s wheelchair and startled him awake. Problem solved. Meanwhile, one of the violin students who’d just exited through the side door, re-entered through the front. The male nurse nodded at him, and the student moved closer.
Was it her imagination, or did the nurse hand something to the student?

A standing ovation would have been difficult to manage here, but the residents applauded enthusiastically nonetheless. The violin student standing by the nurse was now gone. Susan went up and congratulated Alonzo on a job well done.

“Alonzo, this is my daughter, Lynette. She’s a detective.” Sweat beaded on his face. She thought she saw his face tense when Susan mentioned
detective.
Maybe she was imagining it. In the end, she attributed his excess perspiration to conducting in a tux under hot lights.

“I enjoyed the concert,” said Lynette.

“Lynette, this is Starr, one of my students.”

Alonzo excused himself. The male nurse motioned to him, and Alonzo made his way to the door. He whispered into the nurse’s ear, then the nurse nodded and left. Alonzo hadn’t acknowledged any of the other staff.
Were they friends?
The hair on Susan’s arms tingled.

“Come on, Mom,” said Lynette, “Let’s get home. Hope Audrey survived an evening with a toddler.”

“She was looking forward to it.”

When they got home, Annalise was fast asleep on Audrey’s lap,
Goodnight Moon
open beside them on the sofa. Susan scooped up the baby and took her upstairs to her crib. Her phone vibrated in her pocket as she was tip-toeing out of the baby’s bedroom. She was delighted to see it was her son calling.

“Evan? It’s so good to hear your voice. How are your exams going?”

“Getting through them. Dad says you’re in Florida.”

“Yes. Remember I told you how I was going to meet my birth mother? Well, I’ve not only met her, but we’re staying here at her home. What are you doing about spring break?”

“I was thinking of coming for a visit. Dad’s working up in New York, and I hear you’re right by the beach.”

“Yes. And Lynette and Annalise are here with me. We’d love to see you.”

“I’ll buy a ticket. Love you.”

Susan practically squealed with delight. She ran down the steps to tell Lynette her brother was coming to visit.

Lynette smiled. “That’s great. He won’t recognize Annalise. She wasn’t even walking the last time he saw her.” Audrey stirred in the sofa. “We’ll have to make him a hotel reservation,” continued Lynette, “With spring break, I bet hotels fill up fast.”

“Hotels?” asked Audrey. “We’re talking about my grandson here, am I right?” She sat up.

“Yes,” said Susan. “Evan’s in medical school in St. Louis. He’s coming here for spring break.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” said Audrey, “but what’s this nonsense about hotels? I have plenty of space. He can sleep in the den.”

“Thanks! I’ll let him know,” said Susan. It was strange. Evan had a new grandma. He and her Mom had been inseparable when Evan was growing up. She was his
real
Grandma. Susan’s eyes stung with tears. Audrey could be a friend to Evan, but she’d never take the place of her mother.