Take a Dive for Murder (7 page)

Carrie really didn’t want to window shop. She wanted to clear her head from the morning’s events. Both Joel and Simpson felt Jamie’s death may not have been accidental. Why didn’t the Faradays insist on finding out what really happened? With the Faraday money and influence, they could have demanded a thorough investigation from the authorities. No one was doing anything, but everyone was concerned about what would happen to her if she started an investigation into what Jamie was doing. Well, like it or not, she was going to follow Jamie’s trail and see where it led. And if she was going to accomplish anything, it would start back at the Faradays, going through Jamie’s papers. She ended her wandering and headed toward the parking garage.

On the way to the garage, she spotted a stationery store and decided to pick up some supplies for her cataloging. She purchased spiral notebooks, index cards, and pens in different colors. Even though she
brought her laptop, she decided it might be easier to catalog the old-fashioned way with pen and paper. Later she could transfer the written information to her computer. This method would provide backup for her paper notes, which she was planning on mailing to her parents.

She left the store with her purchases and crossed the street to the garage. She waited with a group of people for the garage elevator to slowly make its way to the street level. After waiting what seemed an eternity, the elevator arrived. By the time the people in front of her entered, including a mother with a stroller, there was no room for her and several others. She looked around, saw the door for the stairs, and decided it would be quicker to take the steps to the fourth level, where she parked.

As Carrie was turning the corner to the fourth level, she heard the voices of two men. They didn’t seem to be moving but talking in the stairwell at the fourth floor. Carrie stopped in her tracks as she began to understand their words.

“Where is she now?”

“Don’t know. Followed her from the restaurant, and then she went in that store.” The man answering the questions had a slight accent. Carrie thought it might be Russian or Eastern European.

“Did she buy anything?”
The other man’s voice was very soft and almost feminine.

“
Pens and paper. Then I followed her back here and left her at the elevator. Lots of people waiting. Maybe she didn’t get the first car.”

These men are talking about me!
Carrie thought. She stood frozen afraid to move for fear the men would hear her.

“Maybe she forgot something at the store,” offered the man with the
soft voice. “Let’s find out. You go down the steps. I’ll take the elevator down and then back up.”

Carrie knew she had only seconds. She forced her body to move. As quietly as she could, she went back down the few steps to the third-floor door. When she reached the third-floor door, luck was with her.
There was a group of business people who also took the steps rather than wait for the elevator. They flung open the door to the third level, and Carrie walked through with them. She immediately veered to the left and hopped the low wall of the ramp to the fourth level. Carrie used the ramp wall as cover and ducked when she heard the door open. She carefully peered over the wall, but could see only the back of the door and not the man opening it. The man’s attention was drawn by the group of people who entered the third floor with her, and he wasted little time before retreating back into the stairwell.

This was Carrie’s chance. She sprinted up the ramp to the fourth floor. Fortunately her car was parked at the end closest to the down ramp and farthest from the elevator. She had her keys in her hand and punched the
unlock button on the electronic keypad. Carrie jumped in her car, locked the doors, started the car, and headed toward the exit, all within seconds. When she looked in her rearview mirror, she saw a very thin, short man standing in the middle of the ramp. She had only a brief glance before another exiting car honked him out of position.

Carrie was still feeling an adrenaline rush
after her escape, but she breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled her car out of the parking garage. What was happening? She was experiencing events and emotions similar to those Ascot had in the book she was writing.

All the way back to the Faraday house, she kept checking her rearview mirror to see if she was being followed. She spotted no one. However, the more she thought about it, the more she realized these two men didn’t need to follow her. They seemed to know how to find her, so they probably also knew she was staying with the Faradays.

Who were these men? She didn’t think she was followed from Simpson’s office. But if they hadn’t followed her, how did they know where she would be? A nagging little voice told her that Joel suggested the parking garage. Then she shook off the little voice when she realized any one of the attendees at Simpson’s could have overheard Joel’s instructions. Carrie didn’t want to face another thought. What were these two men planning to do if they came face to face with her in the garage?

Carrie parked her car, grabbed her bag of supplies, and was locking her car when she became aware of someone behind her. She spun around

“So, how was lunch?” Charles greeted Carrie as if nothing happened between them at Simpson’s office. He had changed from his dark blue suit into brown slacks, a cream shirt, and brown leather jacket. Carrie couldn’t stop herself from
thinking how good-looking he was
.

“Did you go to the
Harbor Net Restaurant?”

“What…oh, yes, we did. How did you know?” Carrie was taken
aback that Charles knew where she ate lunch in light of her adventure after lunch.

“It’s Joel’s favorite restaurant, and he eats there almost every day. How was the food?”

“It was fine, although the food wasn’t our focus. We spent most of the time reminiscing about college and remembering Jamie.” Carrie was actually thinking about her experience after lunch, but decided not to say anything to Charles. After all she still wasn’t sure who told those men where she would be. She added, “You know, we did have some good times with your brother.”

“I know you did,” he said quietly. “
Jamie shared many of the stories and even some of your newspaper staff antics with me. Even though I was six years older, we were very close as brothers. I miss him very much.” Charles stopped for a moment and then added, “Look, I’m sorry about my comments at Simpson’s office.”

“It’s all right,” Carrie responded.

“No, let me finish.” His blue-gray eyes focused on Carrie. “You’ve every right to go out to lunch with whomever you want and whenever you want. We offered you a place to stay, but there are no restrictions on that offer. Come and go as you please. I just ask one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you to be very careful. I know there’s no evidence to support this theory, but I believe my brother was murdered. So until we know for sure, I don’t want anyone else to be hurt or…”

“Murdered! Charles, were you about to say
‘murdered’? Do you think I’m in danger of being killed?”

“Look, Carrie, I’m not trying to frighten you, but I don’t know what is happening. Every time I try to find out information from the police, I’m told the case is still under investigation.”

“That explains why nothing seems to be happening, if you aren’t getting any help from the police.”

“They have been of no help whatsoever. I even tried assigning one of our reporters to the story, and he can’t find anything out from his sources in the department. The police have completely shut us out from the investigation. Maybe I’m on the list of suspects, and that’s why they don’t want to share.”

Carrie wondered if something had happened between the brothers that would make the police think of Charles as a potential suspect. She decided to ask, “Why would the police think you could be a suspect?”

“They have this wild theory that with Jamie returning home, there w
as a power struggle for control of the company.” Carrie said nothing, but Charles guessed what she was thinking. “And, no, there was no power struggle. The management of the company was left to me through my father’s will, not to mention Jamie wanted nothing to do with management. He wanted to write. Anyway, that’s why I’m hoping you’ll find some clue in Jamie’s papers.”

“
Apparently everyone else is hoping the same thing. I just hope we aren’t all disappointed when everything is cataloged. I know Suzanne is already disappointed because she wasn’t given the cataloging job. Charles, I have to ask. How much do you know about Suzanne?”

“Just between us, I know very little about Suzanne. Christopher doesn’t seem to know much about her either. She simply showed up in Europe, latched on
to his father, and seemed content to be part of their lives. Christopher says she never spoke much about her past. She did tell them she was left an inheritance and was using it to travel in Europe. That’s as much as I know about Suzanne.”

“There must be some way of finding out more about her?” Carrie added.

Charles looked a little sheepish and then said, “I did ask Jonathan Stone to see what he could find out. He has many contacts including some in Europe so I think it’s only a matter of time before we find out more about Suzanne.”

“I guess it could all be innocent but it would be nice to have more facts.”

And as long as we are being honest with each other and discussing people related to this case, there’s someone else I’m not sure about.”

“Who’s that?” asked Carrie.

“I’ve never trusted or, for that matter, liked Joel. I look at it this way. If Joel and Jamie were such good friends, how come Jamie went to Simpson to prepare his will and handle your letter?”

“I don’t know, but one could ask the same question about the family. How come Jamie didn’t have someone in the family go through the papers?” Carrie regretted the question almost the minute she asked it.

“Like me?” Charles took the question in stride. “That’s a fair question. I like to think that Jamie thought it might be too difficult for us to deal with his writings after his death. He thought we would either pack his work away without reviewing it, or let the work sit until we felt we could deal with the memories. As a result, any trail related to his death would be cold.” He paused for a moment and then looked directly at Carrie. “I also think that my brother might have been afraid that we, especially Mother, wouldn’t want to stir things up. But he was wrong. I want to know the truth. And, hopefully, with your help, I’ll find out the truth.”

Carrie wasn’t sure what to say after Charles’s revelations about his feelings. Then he added, “Are you planning on getting started this afternoon?”

“Yes. I think the sooner I get started, the better. I’ve got my office supplies and I’m ready to go.”

Carrie held up her plastic bag of recently purchased materials.

“Hey, you don’t need to buy anything. If you need any supplies, just charge them to Faraday Press. We have an account at that store.” Charles glanced at his watch. “Look, I’ve got to run to the office for a few hours, but hopefully we can talk more when I get back.”

Charles turned and went into the garage. He entered through the side door, and the first garage door began to open automatically. Carrie stood and watched as Charles guided the car out of the driveway. Then she headed into the house to change her clothes to something more comfortable for her task of cataloging. Hopefully, just as Charles suggested, she would find a clue to Jamie’s murder in
his work.

When Carrie opened the door to Jamie’s studio above the Faraday garage, she was stunned. It was as if she had traveled back in time. The room looked exactly like the office they shared at the college newspaper. The desk, filing cabinets, and even the desk chair were made of a heavy light-oak wood that was typical of older offices.
Could it be the same desk from our old newspaper office?
She asked herself. There was one sure way to find out. She tried the desk drawer, but it was locked. She took the set of keys that Simpson gave her and tried the one that looked like a desk key. The key worked and Carrie slid open the top drawer. Then she pulled out the second drawer. Inside was a wooden divider that cut the drawer into two sections: a smaller section for envelopes and a larger one for letterhead. She lifted the divider straight up and flipped it over. There it was on the back of the divider—an inscription in the wood! Carrie put on her glasses and read the inscription aloud.

“
For all those who follow, let it be known that the current editorial staff of Carolyn Kingsford, Joel Wheeler, James Faraday, and Stephen Beeker give their blood, their sweat, and even their tears to bring the truth to this campus through the written words and photographs of the student
Courier
newspaper.”

We were all so young and even silly, but we did believe we were doing important work on that newspaper
, Carrie thought.
I wonder how on earth Jamie acquired the original desk.

She ran her fingers over the words that were written with a non-washable black pen in that tiny draftsman script of Stephen Beeker. She wondered where Stephen was. The next time she saw Joel, she would ask. She slid the wooden divider back into place and sat for a few moments thinking about all the conversations exchanged while sitting around this desk.
Enough already, you need to get started
, Carrie admonished herself. She looked around the room to get a feel for Jamie’s workspace.

The desk was placed to the left of the door and sat out from the wall facing a large bay window across the room. On each side of the window were
several wooden four-drawer files. To the right of the desk was another window that looked toward the back of the Faraday house. Because the desk wasn’t close to either window, Jamie would see only the trees and open space surrounding the buildings.
What a great setup
, Carrie thought.
You have the windows, so you don’t feel closed in, but not the distraction of seeing the comings and goings in the neighborhood
. She continued surveying the room. To the right, against the far wall, was their old newspaper worktable. Jamie would have used the table to look at galleys or layouts, but of course now there would be no new layouts. Next to the table were an overstuffed chair, a lamp, and an end table piled with magazines. Carrie knew Jamie spent time reading in this chair and was half-tempted to go and relax in it, but she knew that would only delay her main task.

The top of the desk was clear, with no notebooks or papers. This was unusual. If Jamie was working on a story, reference materials and papers should have been visible on the desk and table. Had someone already straightened the office, or had Jamie deliberately kept everything hidden? Carrie checked the drawers of the desk. The bottom two drawers were empty. The remaining drawers held notepaper and envelopes, stamps, pens, pencils, but nothing of any significance. She wondered if Jamie kept a journal or a diary that he used for notes. She would ask Christopher.

Off to one side of the desk sat a laptop computer and printer. Maybe in this day and age, Jamie did all his work on the computer, but she decided to leave it for later.

Next Carrie went to the file cabinets. They were also locked, but she tried another key from Simpson’s ring and unlocked them. The file drawers were stuffed with writings, story ideas, articles, research notes, and photos all filed together and set up alphabetically.
One file cabinet was labeled published works. She would leave sorting that cabinet to the end. She grabbed a notebook and started with the first file drawer. If Jamie was working a story, maybe his research materials were somewhere in these drawers. She decided to take each file drawer in order and record the contents in her notebooks. While she knew this would be time-consuming, she also knew it was the only way she would have a complete record of the contents.

She started her work by standing at the files. Then she discovered it would be easier if she took the folders out of the drawer and sorted them on the work table. Carrie sat in the overstuffed chair with her jean-clad legs draped over the side, and began sorting the files and making her notes. Although she had read many of Jamie’s published articles, she forgot what a good writer he was. Many of the folders contained multiple drafts of his published article, and she remembered what a stickler Jamie was for perfection. He would always push the newspaper’s deadline as he continued to edit to the last moment.

She picked up another stack of folders from the table. As she settled back in the chair with the folders, a three-by-five card drifted to the floor. Carrie picked it up and saw the title at the top: “Getting Exports out of Europe Avoiding the Normal Channels.” Carrie recognized that the notes were in Jamie’s small, tight script. The rest of the card listed a series of thoughts that Jamie might use in a story, including how to hide an item, how to make contacts, how much money can be made, and how to retrieve items on the other end. Carrie turned the card over. Nothing was written on the back. She went back to the file cabinets and looked in the section of
E
folders. She found no folder on exporting. There was one on elephants, escape artists and many folders on Europe, and then the
F
folders started. She checked under
I
for importing, but again found nothing. She folded the card and slipped it into her jeans pocket. Maybe later she would find other materials on this subject, or maybe this was the beginning of the notes Jamie made from his lunch with Joel. As she continued her work, she noticed that most of the folders contained similar cards with notes like the one that fell on the floor.

Carrie lost track of
time as she continued logging the contents of the folders. Dusk was beginning to darken the room, but she didn’t take the time to turn on the lights. Unexpectedly, she thought she heard a sound on the steps outside. Then she saw a shadow pass in front of the window that faced the side steps. She was frozen until she heard a key in the door lock. She jumped up and stood behind the chair. She watched as the key engaged the lock and the door handle slowly turned. As the door opened, Carrie was about to duck behind the chair. But before she made her move, a head poked around the corner of the door and Suzanne came into view. Carrie breathed a sigh of relief.

Suzanne saw Carrie and was also startled, “Oh, oh, hello. I didn’t know anyone was here. I didn’t see any lights,” she said, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle from her
brightly flowered top.

“I’ve been working and didn’t bother to turn them on yet,” Carrie answered.

“How can you work in the dark?”

Carrie didn’t answer Suzanne’s question, but instead asked, “Suzanne, what are you doing here?”

“I often kept Jamie company while he was writing,” she said defensively.

“I thought you said Jamie wasn’t working on a story?”

Carrie could tell Suzanne was flustered, but she quickly answered, “I mean I was helping him get the place ready in case he decided to start a story.”

“You really shouldn’t come up here now that Jamie is…isn’t here, until I have all the papers and materials cataloged.”

“I’m not going to touch anything. I was just going to sit in the chair.”

“I understand that, but this is no longer a place for you to visit. You see, it will take twice as long if my work is interrupted.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I think you’re just jealous of my relationship with Jamie.” Suzanne sounded like a teenage girl. “From what I understand, you were Jamie’s girl in the past. I think you’re just pissed that I’m even around.” Suzanne paused for a moment and then added, “I was Jamie’s assistant, and I could help you. But, no, you just want to sit up here and dream about what could have been.” Her voice was now sharp.

Suzanne’s outburst
stunned Carrie, and she wasn’t quite sure how to answer her. She decided on a softer approach. “Suzanne, I know that you’re feeling left out. You were Jamie’s assistant, and now I’ve been assigned to handle those things you once did. That’s just the way things work out sometimes. I also know you took care of Jamie and Christopher, and I’m sure they appreciated that.”

“Yes, they did. I was a big help to both of them,” she agreed.

“Exactly, and Christopher still needs your help to get him get through this difficult time. I assure you, all I want to do is to get everything cataloged and be on my way. Don’t you think that’s the best plan?”

Suzanne looked away as she nodded her head.

“I know you will also understand why I have to do this alone in order to do it quickly.”

“I do. I’m sorry. It’s just that I miss him.”

“I know you do.” Carrie waited a moment and then asked, “Since you know about Jamie’s work, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Suzanne brightened.

“Did Jamie keep a journal?”

“A journal?” She seemed surprised by the question.

“You know a notebook or a diary where he kept ideas for stories or notes from interviews and research.”

“Nope, nothing like that.” Her answer seemed a little quick to Carrie. Then she added, “
He did most of his writing on the computer.”

“I guess most people use computers these days,” agreed Carrie.

“I’m considered an expert on the computer. That’s where I was the most help to Jamie. If you want, I could take the laptop into the house and print out all the files. That would probably save you some time.”

“You know,
that’s really sweet of you to offer. However, I’m going to systematically work my way through the files and then copy my work on the computer. So I really need to keep the laptop here.” Carrie knew she was telling a little white lie since she had her own computer.

Suzanne looked dejected again, but before she could respond, Carrie offered, “When I get
around to typing my notes, perhaps you could help me at that time. I’ve never been very good with computers.”

“I’ll be glad to help
.” She smiled broadly. “Do you want me to wait?”

“No, I didn’t mean today. I won’t be ready to type my notes for several days. But if
you’re going to be around in the next few days, I’m sure you could help me.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be around.
Just let me know when you’re ready for me to enter items.”

Carrie walked Suzanne to the door and watched as Suzanne went down the steps. Suzanne turn
ed and waived to Carrie and hurried across the lawn to the kitchen door. Carrie was sure if Suzanne had been a small child, she would have skipped across the lawn. But Carrie did not buy the sweet little girl persona of Suzanne.

It was getting late, so Carrie decided to stop work for the day. She placed all the folders back inside the file drawers and locked them. However, before she left the studio, she decided to check Jamie’s computer. She turned it on and once it booted up, a password screen appeared.

I was afraid of that
, she thought. She tried “Jamie,” “Faraday,” “Christopher,” “Suzanne,” and even her name. Nothing got her past the password screen. Then she remembered at school they used to refer to the old typewriter as “good old Bessie.” She tried “Bessie,” and the computer accepted the password and proceeded to the opening screen.

Carrie saw only a few software applications
were loaded: a word program, a spreadsheet program, and a few games. She searched the computer’s documents and found just a couple of files. She took a blank DVD from her supply bag and loaded all the files she found onto it. Then she shut the computer down. She checked again to make sure everything was locked and returned to the house.