Beignets and Broomsticks Page 12

  ‘Would two hundred milligrams have been enough to kill her?’

  ‘Not according to the coroner.’

  ‘So the killer drugged her tea and then strangled her? Why? So she would be more docile and put up less of a struggle?’

  ‘That’s the assumption we are going on.’

  Highsmith sat back down. ‘Your turn. What brought you here, Ms Miller? If there is anything you know that can shed some light on this case, now is the time to share.’

  I cleared my throat and pressed my knees together. ‘I received a package in the mail from Nancy.’

  The detective’s brow shot up. ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday.’

  ‘And you’re only getting around to telling me this now? Ms Miller, this is an active homicide investigation!’

  ‘I know, Detective. Do you want to badger me or do you want to hear what she sent me?’

  ‘What did she send you?’

  I started to speak but he raised his hand.

  ‘One sec.’ He snatched a small notepad from the corner of his desk, dug around for a pen and found none. He grumbled as he grabbed one from the cubicle next door then took his seat once more.

  ‘OK, go ahead.’ He held the pen at the ready over the pad. ‘Start at the beginning.’

  ‘When I got home from work yesterday, I wrote out a check for the rent on my apartment and stuck it in an envelope. I knew it was probably too late to go out that day because the mail carrier usually comes earlier in the day. I decided to place the rent check in my mailbox, anyway, because I told Rob Gregory I already had. That way, I wouldn’t have to think about it—’

  ‘Ms Miller.’ The detective looked about ready to burst. ‘Unless your rent is somehow connected to this case—’

  ‘I am trying to tell you, if you’d just let me finish.’ I went on quickly despite the look he was giving me that said I was wasting his ever-so-valuable time. ‘When I put my envelope in the mailbox, I saw that the mail had come as I expected. There was the usual junk plus an envelope from Nancy.’

  Detective Highsmith visibly perked up. ‘What sort of an envelope?’

  ‘Padded. About so big.’ I demonstrated with my hands. ‘Inside was a note and a flash drive.’

  Highsmith thumped the notepad against the palm of his hand. ‘Did you touch it?’

  ‘The flash drive? Of course! I touched the note, too. Why wouldn’t I? Nancy sent them to me, didn’t she?’

  Highsmith was frowning. ‘I suppose,’ he admitted with some reluctance. ‘Do you have this note? What did it say?’

  ‘It’s back at my apartment, Detective. She said something about …’ I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, trying to remember. ‘Something about how I should hold onto the flash drive for her until she asked for it back.’

  ‘Why you? Were you friends? I got the impression you barely knew her.’

  ‘I did hardly know her. In the note, Nancy said it was because she didn’t know who else to trust with it.’

  ‘It being the flash drive?’

  I shrugged. ‘Obviously.’ An incessantly ringing phone in the background was finally answered and I sighed with relief.

  ‘So you read the note. Did you look at this flash drive she sent you, too?’

  ‘Yes. I mean, sort of. I had no way of looking at it last night. My computer was in the store and I didn’t feel like going back. I didn’t think it was anything urgent. I opened it on my laptop at the café this morning.’

  Highsmith’s eyes lit up with interest. ‘What was on it?’

  ‘Some files related to a book she was writing. I didn’t get a chance to read the entire document. Then I got busy. I do have a business to run and … and some other things came up.’

  ‘That’s great.’ He leaned forward. ‘You know, whatever was on Nancy Alverson’s computer is gone. That flash drive might be a big help in our investigation.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘Her computer has been wiped clean. We’ve sent it to a specialist to see if they can get anything off the hard drive but it’s probably a lost cause. I’m assuming the killer wiped the drive, so you can see how important the flash drive might be.’

  I found myself tensing up, knowing that I was going to have to get to the not-so-pleasant point very soon.

  ‘I did want to bring the flash drive to your attention as soon as possible. That’s why I am here.’

  ‘Of course. You did the right thing bringing it here to me now. Is that it there?’ he gestured. ‘Inside that computer case?’

  I squirmed. The seat of my chair suddenly felt like a bed of sharp nails.

  ‘I’d like to examine it right away. Like I said, it may hold a vital clue as to who murdered Nancy, or at least tell us why.’

  ‘Well …’ I cleared my throat and tugged at my collar. ‘Here’s the thing …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I don’t have it.’

  Highsmith rose to his feet and grabbed his jacket. ‘OK, why don’t we head over to your apartment now and get it. Do you need a ride?’

  My jaw tightened and my face colored. ‘Again, here’s the thing …’

  I looked around for help. This was a police station – couldn’t somebody help me? I took a deep breath and blew out a stream of air, then said, ‘I don’t have it. It’s gone.’

  THIRTEEN

  ‘You lost—’ Highsmith turned his back on me and began swearing vehemently under his breath. His hands were clenched at his sides.

  After a minute of this, the detective turned. His face was mottled and I could see that he was struggling with self-control issues. ‘Ms Miller—’

  I rolled my chair a foot or two back. ‘I didn’t lose it, Detective. And I don’t appreciate you jumping to conclusions,’ I snapped. ‘It was stolen from me.’

  Detective Highsmith slumped into his chair once more, tossing his notepad and pen on the desk in frustration. ‘Stolen?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Somebody broke into your apartment? Why didn’t you report it to the police?’

  I shook my head side to side. ‘No. Nobody broke into my apartment.’

  ‘The thief broke into the café?’

  ‘No. If you would let me talk.’

  The detective gestured for me to continue.

  ‘Thank you. Like I told you, I took the flash drive to the café this morning to see what was on it and that’s what I did. I was reading it in the storeroom – that’s where I keep my laptop when I’m at the café. I went out front to assist for a couple of hours. When I returned to my desk to read some more, the flash drive was missing.’

  ‘Just the flash drive or your laptop, too?’

  ‘Just the flash drive. My laptop was right where I had left it. It hadn’t been touched.’ At least, I didn’t think it had. ‘I asked everybody – my mother, Kelly and Aubrey. None of them had taken the flash drive or even noticed it.’

  ‘And you didn’t see anybody else? You didn’t let a worker or somebody else back there while you were working?’

  ‘No. However …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The door to the storeroom was inadvertently left unlocked.’

  His sigh about bowled me over. ‘So anybody could have gone into the back while you were all out front.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. We are in and out of the backroom getting supplies, but yes, it would be easy enough for a thief to sneak in, take the drive and be gone without any of us knowing.’

  ‘You really should keep that door locked during business hours.’

  ‘Normally, I do. It was an accident.’

  ‘I’ll want the laptop.’

  ‘What for? I told you, I didn’t copy the file.’

  ‘We’ll want to check your computer for fingerprints. Whoever took the flash drive may have touched the laptop in doing so.’

  ‘Oh.’ That made sense.

  ‘Who did you tell about the flash drive?’

  ‘Nobody! Not before it was stolen, at least.
I did mention it to Brad this afternoon. And …’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘And he was at the café earlier,’ I admitted. ‘He was there when the flash drive was in my laptop.’

  ‘Would he have seen this?’

  ‘Yes. He was in the storeroom with me. But he left out the back and the flash drive was still in the laptop.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have come back after you’d gone out front and taken it.’

  ‘But why would he?’

  ‘Because he’s a reporter and smelled a story maybe?’

  ‘I suppose. But how could he have known I had the flash drive or what was on it? I only told him about it later at lunch.’

  ‘Don’t you think that Nancy mailing the drive to you meant that she wanted it kept private?’

  ‘Nancy is dead, Detective. Telling Brad what was on the drive wouldn’t change that.’

  Highsmith merely shrugged. ‘Did you tell anybody else?’

  ‘No. I mean, my mother, Kelly and Aubrey knew that I was looking for a flash drive. They didn’t ask what was on it and I didn’t tell them. Although …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Jakob Waltz came by the apartment yesterday evening.’

  Highsmith held up a hand to stop me. ‘Jakob Waltz.’ He flipped through a file on his desk. ‘A friend of the deceased. We interviewed him. He wasn’t much help.’

  ‘Yes. He brought me a painting for the café.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘It is not unusual. I have half-a-dozen of his paintings in the café. You must have seen them.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘We sold one recently and he brought me another to take its place.’

  ‘But you didn’t tell him about the flash drive?’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head firmly. ‘He might have seen it, though. The flash drive and envelope were there in plain sight in the living room.’ I rubbed my fingers. ‘I got the sense that he was curious about it. I could be wrong.’

  ‘Are you sure he didn’t leave with it?’

  ‘Definitely not. Like I said, I had it last night and I had it this morning.’

  ‘But Jakob knew you had that envelope and flash drive?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t see how he could have known that the envelope was from Nancy or what was on the flash drive.’

  ‘Maybe he recognized her handwriting on the envelope,’ Highsmith speculated.

  That made sense too. Still, I couldn’t believe Jakob Waltz could have had anything to do with Nancy Alverson’s murder. What possible motive could he have? They were friends.

  ‘What about the note? Did whoever took the flash drive get that too?’

  ‘No. That’s definitely in my apartment. The envelope too.’

  ‘Good. Good.’

  ‘I can bring them both to you tomorrow, if you’d like.’

  ‘Let’s not take any chances. How about if I stop by and collect them later on my way home?’

  ‘I suppose that would be all right.’ Though I hadn’t cleaned in ages.

  Highsmith, appearing to have recovered his calm, leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers. ‘Tell me about the document.’

  ‘Nancy was writing a sort of exposé, from what I could gather. She called it Money and Magick – Greed and Sin in a Small Town. There was some other stuff in there about land grants and deeds. She pointed to a lot of shady goings on in the church and here in Table Rock, actually.’

  ‘Can you be more specific?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t remember very well. I was reading quickly. And, as I explained, I hadn’t read through everything.’

  ‘Nancy was a writer,’ Highsmith said. ‘She’s written a couple of earlier nonfiction books that were attacks on industry and politicians. Nothing big or too splashy. Her publisher is very small.’

  ‘That’s what I heard.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Brad Smith told me pretty much the same thing.’

  ‘I see. Her publisher told me she never sold more than a couple thousand copies of anything.’ The detective stretched his arms and yawned. ‘Frankly, I don’t know how she managed to pay her bills.’

  I remembered what had been insinuated at the church. ‘Suryavayu told us that Nancy was being paid by the church to write about them.’

  Highsmith’s face darkened. ‘Who is Suryavayu?’

  ‘He calls himself the Head Master and High Priest of the Sacred Church of Witchkraft. Brad and I went to see him this afternoon.’

  ‘Do I want to know why you did that?’

  ‘We were curious, that’s all. Like I told you, I mentioned what Nancy was working on to Brad and Brad thought we should go have a look around.’

  ‘That could have been dangerous.’

  ‘The church is open to the public.’ Though there had turned out to be at least the insinuation of danger.

  ‘This high priest told you that he was paying Nancy Alverson to write something for them?’

  ‘He showed us the cancelled checks.’

  ‘I’ll look into it.’ The detective grabbed his pad and made some notes.

  A horrendous grinding sound started up further back in the office.

  ‘Ignore that,’ Highsmith said, nonchalantly.

  ‘I don’t think I can,’ I said, bringing my hands to my ears.

  ‘It’s the construction crew doing some work on the new cells. It will stop in a minute.’

  We waited for the noise to die down. Sure enough, a minute later, the racket dimmed then ceased altogether.

  ‘Wow,’ I explained.

  ‘You get used to it. The crews try to do most of the work in the evening now that we’ve moved in. Hopefully, all the last-minute stuff will be done soon. I’ll be glad when it is.’

  I looked around the spiffy new office. ‘How do you like your new location?’

  ‘I love it. We’re right in the heart of town. I get to walk to lunch and have my pick of a dozen restaurants.’

  ‘And your girlfriend within easy walking distance?’

  The detective colored ever so slightly. ‘We were talking about Nancy Alverson.’

  To continue to tease him would have been so easy, but I decided to give him a break and returned to our subject. ‘Do you think Nancy may have made some enemies along the way? Digging up dirt that somebody didn’t want dug up?’

  Highsmith smiled grimly. ‘I think she made at least one enemy.’

  ‘If that’s all, I’d like to get going.’ I picked my purse up and set it in my lap, pushing the laptop closer to his desk. I hoped I’d be getting it back soon. ‘I’ve got a cat to feed.’

  ‘Look, Maggie …’ The detective came to his feet. He laid his hand gently over mine and gazed into my eyes.

  ‘Yes?’ My heart thumped.

  ‘VV, Veronica, really could use a friend right now.’

  My thumping heart came to a dead stop.

  ‘A friend?’

  ‘Yes. Can’t you talk to her? As a friend?’

  ‘Are you kidding? VV likes me about as much as I like getting bitten by a rattlesnake!’ I crossed my arms over my chest. ‘And I dare say, the feeling is mutual.’

  ‘Come on, Maggie. You don’t mean it.’ Highsmith smiled, dimples and all. ‘Believe it or not, Veronica doesn’t have any real girlfriends. I mean, she has social friends, but nobody she is really close with. Nobody she can open up to.’

  Oh, I could believe it all right.

  ‘She’s got you.’

  ‘I’m not a woman.’

  No, he sure wasn’t.

  Still, a part of me melted. But just a tiny part. And not a critical one. ‘Not a chance. She—’ My mouth froze at the same time that my arms unfroze and fell limp at my sides.

  If I said yes and, if – big if – VV agreed to talk to me, I could do what Brad had been unable to do thus far. I could question her more deeply about Nancy Alverson’s mu
rder.

  I could hear what she had to say to explain herself regarding what Joho told me about her argument with Nancy at Hopping Mad the day Nancy was murdered. I should say yes. ‘She—’

  My jaw froze up once more. I felt conflicted. VV and I could barely stand to be in the same room together. How on earth could I be expected to go to her as a friend? What was Highsmith thinking? It was absurd. And VV Vargas would never buy it. Not for one minute.

  Detective Highsmith stood leaning over me, his arm resting on the back of my chair. I felt the warmth of his arm on my shoulder. ‘She what?’

  I trembled. ‘She really could use a friend right now, couldn’t she?’

  Detective Highsmith gave my shoulder a tender squeeze. ‘Thanks, Maggie. I owe you.’ He helped me to my feet. I seemed to have lost all my leg bones somewhere and was wobbling like a jar of cactus jelly. ‘In the meantime, I suggest you stay away from Jakob Waltz.’

  ‘Why?’ I said, feeling my balance slowly returning.

  ‘He has a criminal record.’

  ‘Jakob?’ I gasped. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Nothing too serious. He and some friends stole a car when he was sixteen. A couple of arrests for trafficking marijuana a few years ago.’

  ‘I see.’ I slowly buttoned my coat. ‘People can change.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Highsmith said, ‘but not always for the better.’

  FOURTEEN

  When I got home, I found Brad Smith seated on the front stoop with an open copy of the Table Rock Reader in his hands. He looked up as I pedaled to a stop at his feet. His jacket was zipped to his chin. ‘It’s about time you got home.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I slid off my bike. ‘I thought you were out chasing a missing hot-air balloon?’

  ‘Very funny, Maggie.’ Brad folded up his newspaper and stood. The cat was watching him from the sill of the front window.

  ‘I wanted to get a look at that note you said Nancy sent you.’

  Brad dusted himself off as I unlocked the door and pushed the bike inside. Carole Two hopped down from her perch with a resounding plunk, which reminded me that we were both in need of a diet.

  ‘Help yourself.’ I rolled the bike through the kitchen and out to the patio. I removed my purse from the basket and hung it on the coat rack. C2 followed me along. While Brad looked on, I rewarded her with some kibble smothered with a helping of canned salmon.