A Time To Kiln Page 7

  “So, Jade, what were you doing here? Do you have some sort of attraction to crime scenes?”

  “I went to see Jack about a rental house for a friend of Ellie’s. But when he wasn’t there, I left him a voice mail. Since I was already in town, I thought I’d come out here and look at some of the pieces of Paula’s I’d admired.” Enough said. I shut up. Most people telling fibs talked too much, so I fought the urge to say more.

  Ross was taking notes. Without looking up, he asked, “So you were innocently coming round and just happened to get into the building and find Jack dead?”

  “Yes, as crazy as that may sound. The reason I came out here had little to do with Paula’s death.”

  Turning his head away from his notebook and glancing up, he raised an eyebrow. “Okay. We’ll let that go for now and give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Thank you.” My tone may have been just a little cheeky.

  “So you said the door was unlocked? Since you didn’t break in.”

  “I don’t go around with key picks in my back pocket, Ross. Of course the door was unlocked. I was on autopilot thinking about something else and tried the door knob out of habit. To my surprise, it opened.”

  “You didn’t see or hear anything that made you believe you weren’t alone? You didn’t see the body through the front windows or anything?”

  “No. I just came in and started looking at the pottery. I didn’t hear a sound, and I didn’t see the body until I rounded the corner of the glass cases. From there I noticed the door to the studio was open, which I found odd, since it’s always kept shut. Paula didn’t want anyone looking to buy her pottery seeing the messy studio.”

  “You just looked down, and there he was?”

  “Yes. I was so shocked, I dropped the cup.” I stopped to imagine the scene in my head to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything out.

  “Go on.”

  “After I caught my breath, I called the station. That’s it. Then I waited for you to get here. The congealed blood around his neck told me no one else was around, so I wasn’t scared the murderer was still on the premises. When do you think he died?”

  He ignored my question and continued jotting down notes.

  How rude.

  “Can you think of anything else you’d like to add? Anything else that seemed off somehow?”

  “You mean besides the dead body? Nope, can’t think of a thing.”

  “Okay, that’s it for now. You can go on home. If you think of anything, you’ll let me know, I’m sure.”

  “I will. Can I hang around a little longer though? I don’t want to go home to an empty house. Christian and Ellie are still at work.” Playing the timid female can sometimes pay off.

  “Then go get yourself a cup of tea. We need to get on with this, and we don’t need any gawkers.”

  Again, how rude. How could he consider me just some rubbernecker when I’d solved the last murder he’d investigated?

  ***

  I drove home since I wasn’t the least bit scared to be alone in an empty house. I was a feminist, for Pete’s sake. I wasn’t scared of my own shadow. But in the brooding silence on the ride home, I came to the painful conclusion it was a waste of time to look into Paula, and now Jack’s, murder. I clearly wasn’t cut out to be a detective, even an amateur one. Poirot would have been so disappointed in me.

  Instead of going to my office, I went up the stairs and flopped down on our bed. Thinking of all the time I’d wasted pursuing another murder, I felt like a fool. An old, out-of-the-loop fool. I’d never felt this way when I’d been teaching at the university. I’d always had things to learn, things that challenged me. And the kids had kept me feeling hip.

  Back then—was it really just a scant few years ago—I felt excited about new ideas for literary theory articles I could write. There was always fascinating research to do. Yes, there had been the ever-present stack of essays to grade and whiny students who wanted an ‘A’ just for showing up, but there’d also been some who really wanted to learn, even if the course didn’t apply directly to their major.

  Not for the first time, I questioned my decision to give up my career as a professor to become a solopreneur. I hadn’t made the choice lightly, and up until recently, it had made me happy.

  But after cracking Liz’s case, it had all changed. Ellie didn’t need me like she used to when she was younger and even my marriage felt stale. I groaned and rolled over on my stomach. How had my life gotten so predictable?

  I was the type who always needed keep my mind enticed. When it wasn’t working to solve some problem or puzzle, I tended to brood. I saw the cycle clearly. First, Liz’s case, then dissatisfaction. Then the pottery class had livened me up. Then the loss of the class. Next, the chance to figure out who’d killed Paula. And now, coming to the wrong conclusion, I was in a deeper pit of despair than before.

  Am I clinically depressed? That happens at this age sometimes, doesn’t it? Oh no, I’m a statistic, a stereotype—a woman in the midst of a midlife crisis. Then the sobbing began.

  I awoke when Christian leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. What the heck was wrong with me? Why was I constantly falling asleep? I wasn’t a ninety-year-old great-grandmother, for Heaven’s sakes.

  Christian must have sensed something was wrong. He pulled the covers back on his side of the bed and snuggled me close. I forgot about being bored with him as I cried on his shoulder.

  After I’d cried myself out, we went down to the kitchen where Christian made us Denver omelets. After we finished eating, I shared the multiple reasons for my melancholy, including the final straw—being totally wrong about the murderer’s identity.

  He looked deep into my eyes. “Sweetheart, I know you love a good mystery, but I wish you’d stick to making suspect lists and crime timelines, and let Ross do the dangerous stuff. A few months ago, someone tried to kill you because you’d gotten involved, and today you found a murder victim. It scares me to death to think I could lose you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I didn’t know I was getting into dangerous situations in either of those cases though. It wasn’t like I was sneaking around the docks at midnight spying on gangsters.”

  “That’s my point. The world is dangerous and getting more so all the time. I don’t need you going out and finding it when there’s enough of it just in living life.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about worrying you. I’ll be more careful. In fact, I’m hanging up my gum shoes. I’m not sure what I’m going to do to get out of this funk, but clearly, I’m not the sleuth I thought I was.”

  Eventually, as with most exchanges parents have, our child became the topic of conversation when I asked, “Do you think we should be worried about all the time Ellie’s spending with Dillon? In spite of his alibi, he seems the most likely suspect. He hated Jack and had to marry Paula. If she was cheating on him after he’d done the right thing by her…well, he could be the murderer.”

  After discussing the matter at length, we agreed we’d keep our ears to the ground, and if there was anything the least bit suspicious about Dillon’s actions, we’d talk to Ellie.

  Having nothing left to say, Christian took me by the hand and led me to our bedroom. This time, there was no crying.

  ***

  Friday was another beautiful summer’s day in Wyoming, but my demeanor was anything but sunny. Over the last couple of days, I’d forced myself to work in an effort to keep my mind occupied. Yet, even after talking it through with Christian, I felt disenchanted and spent much of each day gazing out the window beside my desk. Was this how the rest of my life was going to be—just a series of days full of tedious tasks to complete to earn a living?

  In the late morning, I’d had enough of moping. I had so much to be grateful for, and I just needed to get on with things. After concluding that getting out of the house might be just the ticket, I texted Gabby and we made plans to have lunch. Just having something to look forward to lig
htened my mood and made it possible to get some actual work done before I left.

  ***

  I arrived before Gabby, so I found a table and was staring at the menu when I saw someone walking towards me out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it was Gabby, I looked up with a smile on my face. But it wasn’t Gabby. It was my daughter, and she looked upset.

  “What’s the matter, pet? Here, have a seat.”

  She sat down and asked who I was meeting. Predictable as ever—I didn’t leave the house unless I was meeting someone. When I told her who I was lunching with, Ellie put her hand to her heart.

  “Why, what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I might as well wait until Gabby gets here because I wanted to talk to you both. I was heading out on an assignment for the paper when I saw your car parked out front.”

  About that time, Gabby walked up to the table. “Hey, Ellie. I didn’t know you were joining us.”

  “Well, it wasn’t planned. Here….” She got up to give Gabby the chair. She pulled another one over from an adjacent table and sat back down. My daughter looked like she was ready to burst, so Gabby and I stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak up.

  “Dillon texted me a while ago. He’d just gotten back from being interviewed by Ross, where he was told it would be wise for him to get a lawyer.” She stopped and looked at each of us in turn. “They think he might have had something to do with the murders.”

  I opened my mouth to ask why Ross thought that when I noticed Shelly lumbering up to the table, order pad at the ready. I shook my head at my table mates, letting them know to keep silent while Shelly was in earshot.

  While we placed our orders, I wondered if Shelly had already heard the news about Dillon being a suspect. Her voice was flat and there wasn’t the usual insipid grin on her face. She was usually such a Pollyanna, but not today. Once finished with her task, Shelly trudged back towards the kitchen.

  Gabby wasted no time bringing the conversation back to murder. “I thought Dillon had an alibi for the time of Paula’s murder.”

  Ellie looked embarrassed. “Well, they found out his alibi was faked.”

  Cripes! My worst fear had been realized. How should her father and I deal with this?

  Sensing one of us was going to start dissing her friend, she quickly went on. “He did go to work, you know, because that’s where they found him when they came to tell him about Paula. But he was running late, so he had one of his buddies punch him in on time. Ross found out when he dug a little deeper after Jack’s murder.”

  Before I could speak, Gabby went into lawyer mode. “Do you know when they think Jack was killed? Does Dillon have an alibi for that time?”

  “Tuesday evening. The night before Mom found him. And no, he doesn’t have an alibi. He was home with Harper.”

  “What do they think his motive is for killing them?" Gabby asked. "The affair?”

  “Yeah. But Ross is still trying to pin down proof that Paula and Jack were involved.” Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes glinted with determination. “Gabby, would you represent him? He needs someone really good. He’s gullible, and I worry he’s going to say something to incriminate himself… even though I know he isn’t guilty.”

  Ellie’s attention turned to me, and I knew what was coming. “Mom, you investigated to get Liz off the hook. Can’t you guys team up again to help Dillon?”

  While Gabby’s face expressed the seriousness of the situation, the twinkle in her eye gave away her delight in having some excitement land in her lap.

  But I wasn’t going to fall for it. Christian and I had agreed to keep an eye on the situation to ensure Ellie’s safety without me probing further. I’d given up the grandiose idea I could be the much younger, modern-day Miss Marple.

  Gabby smiled at me. “What do you say, Jade? Should Langdon and Blackwell team up again to fight injustice?”

  I asked Ellie, “What facts do you have to prove he’s innocent?” I raised my hands to defend myself before Ellie could start listing all of Dillon’s wonderful qualities. “I know. It’s hard to image Dillon as a killer. But this is serious, Ellie. We have to keep in mind that many mild-mannered people throughout history have been driven to near-madness and killed to get revenge. How often have you heard someone claim they couldn’t believe their quiet, polite neighbor was a serial killer?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and then turned Gabby.

  “Besides, you two," I said firmly, "what Dillon needs is an attorney, a smart lawyer to tell him when to answer a question and when not to. He doesn’t need me. I’m content to let Langdon go solo on this one.”

  “You’re wrong, Jade. If Ross really thinks he could have done this, it’s best to start investigating now.”

  “Sorry, you’re on your own.”

  After Ellie left, Gabby said, “So, what’s happened to make you turn up your nose at an adventure when it comes right to your doorstep? Just the other day we were talking about the excitement we lacked.”

  “I’ve just had enough of looking stupid. My success with Liz’s case was a fluke. Heck, I literally stumbled into solving it. It wasn’t like I had such a brilliant mind that I’d figured it out and apprehended the murderer. This time, I thought for sure Jack had killed Paula, and then Jack ended up dead. My limited sleuthing prowess is only good for figuring out the occasional whodunit between the pages of a book. I’m afraid my real-life sleuthing days are a thing of the past.”

  As we ate, she tried to engage me in a discussion of Dillon’s case, but I declined. I did, however, voice my concern again about Ellie spending so much time alone with Dillon. Here she was, rushing to his rescue once more—the needier he became, the more she involved herself. And now, we find out he’d falsified one alibi and didn’t have a solid one for the second murder.

  Gabby reflected for a moment before speaking. “No, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for where he was when Paula was killed. And she called him gullible. I don’t think Ellie would be seriously interested in someone whom you could call that. She’s too smart. And she’s resourceful. Dillon needs that right now. I don’t think you need to worry.”

  “But what about her safety? Christian and I are frightened. Even though I’m not going to be part of the case, would you please keep me informed of anything you think we should be aware of? We need to make sure our daughter isn’t in danger.”

  After she agreed, I tried to put it out of my mind. But I’d have felt a lot better knowing I was going to be on the frontlines.

  Chapter Ten

  The best way to add excitement to my life, without involving murder, was to craft a new business venture. It needed to involve my expertise, while at the same time, force me to stretch outside of my comfort zone. I’d spent the weekend exploring possibilities, and by Monday morning, I felt a flutter of excitement about the opportunities available in self-publishing.

  While simultaneously listening to podcasts on the topic and completing my monthly bookkeeping chores, I thought I heard a noise downstairs. Tapping the mute button, I listened intently for other sounds.

  Although commotions during the day usually meant the cats were into something, I felt uneasy. I sat as still as possible, holding my breath and straining to hear anything unusual. When I detected the backdoor slowly opening, I came out of my chair.

  “Mom. Hey, Mom.”

  With my heart still pounding, I left my office and scurried down the stairs as quickly as my tender ankle would allow. “What are you trying to do to me, Penelope…” I stopped short when I saw Ellie wasn’t alone.

  Standing close beside her and holding her hand was Harper Hexby. The little girl’s other arm was wrapped around a small, dirty-pink bunny and her thumb was in her mouth. My new optimistic outlook took a hit as I looked into the sweet little face. “What’s up, Ellie?”

  “Mom, I told Dillon I’d watch Harper, but the paper just called. There’s a big fire out south of town and they want me down there right away to cover i
t. Can you help? I couldn’t turn down the work. It’s just that much more I’ll be able to save for next year’s tuition.”

  Oh, my daughter knew me all right. She was playing me like a violin. “What on earth made you think I’d have time to watch a child, Penelope? I’m working too. You should know that by now.” The words tumbled out more harshly than I’d intended.

  She gave me a hurt look and then regarded Harper. The little girl turned her doe eyes up to my daughter and clutched her bunny closer. Suddenly, my anger drained away. How could I not help?

  This poor little thing had just lost her mother, and her father was being investigated for the murder. My daughter was trying to become an independent woman by paying for as much of her college expenses as possible. What was one day of helping out? I’d plop her down in front of the TV and work on my laptop in the living room for a few hours.

  “Okay. But how long will you be?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but hopefully not long. The fire department is already there, which means I should already be there too. I promise to come straight home as soon as I’m done, and then I’ll take her back to her house so you can work.”

  “Harper, this is my mom, Jade. You remember her, don’t you? She’s very nice and she’s going to watch you for a little while. Then I’ll be back, and we can go back to your house and play tea party. How would that be?”

  She just looked up at Ellie without giving any indication of what she thought of that idea. But she did slowly let go of her hand.

  Putting on false cheer, I said, “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go see what snacks we can find. Then we’ll see what cartoons are on.” I took her hand and started leading her into the kitchen. I turned to Ellie. “You’d better leave before I change my mind.”

  I didn’t have to tell her twice.

  ***

  Harper hadn’t made a peep, but just having someone with only two legs in the house threw off my routine. Nothing seemed to bring her any joy at all. Not even when I found a stash of Christian’s chocolate for her. She stared at the TV as if in a trance, taking tiny bites of the candy.