Murder is Secondary: A Susan Wiles Schoolhouse Mystery Read online

  “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?” demanded the father. He was nose to nose with Lynette. His face was the color of a ripe tomato.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bernstein? Do you have ID?” asked Lynette.

  “ID? Do you think we’d be this upset if that wasn’t our daughter?” said Bernstein. He pulled out his wallet and shoved his license in Lynette’s face. “Robert and Rebecca Bernstein.”

  “I’m so very sorry. There’s no easy way to say this. Amber was killed last night. I’m afraid she’s been taken to the medical examiner’s office. I’m so sorry. It appears she was run over sometime last night. We think she was going home after the SAC meeting,” said Lynette.

  “Run over––by a bulldozer? Are you kidding? Dead?” Amber’s mother was wailing and tears rushed down her cheeks in torrents.

  “Who did this to her? I demand to know. Was it intentional?” Mr. Bernstein face was red and his fists were clenched. Susan could see the veins popping out of his neck. Being a parent herself, she couldn’t imagine digesting the fact that your child had been heinously murdered.

  “We don’t know yet, but we will start investigating immediately,” said Lynette. “It looks like it may have been intentional. Do you have any idea who might have wanted your daughter dead?”

  “Absolutely not. Amber had a strong personality. Lots of her friends were jealous of her, but no one wanted her dead” said Mrs. Bernstein. Lynette pulled a wad of tissues from her pocket and offered one to Mrs. Bernstein. “Oh no. I’m going to have to tell her boyfriend, Nick. He’s going to be devastated too.”

  “You will find the killer and he or she will never again see the light of day,” said Mr. Bernstein. “That’s a promise.”

  “I know how devastated you must be right now. If you would go home and make a list for us of anyone you think may have had it in for Amber, that would be a great starting point,” said Lynette. “We found her purse but we will need you to come by and confirm her identity later on.”

  “I can’t deal with this,” said Mrs. Bernstein. “How am I going to live without my daughter? She can’t be dead.” She was crying so hard that she began to wheeze.

  “Come on, let’s go home. I’ll call this private investigator we use at the firm. I’m not depending on the police to get to the bottom of this any time soon,” said Mr. Bernstein. He put his arm around his wife and stormed back to the car.

  “Mom, you and Dad need to go home now. There’s nothing more we can do here. Jackson and I will get to work on this immediately.” A crowd of onlookers was beginning to form.

  Susan shivered with a sudden realization. If Amber was dead, maybe teenage jealousy could have been a motive. Teenagers were known to snap and do crazy things. Just look at how Danny Trapani had beaten up Amber’s boyfriend Nick. But there was someone out there with a much stronger motive. Someone whose reputation and livelihood were being threatened by the victim. Someone with good reason for wanting Amber dead, Susan realized. That someone was Tank. Susan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never kill anyone, but the public would probably jump to that conclusion. She was surprised Amber’s father hadn’t already thought of it. They’d have to find the real killer before it was too late.

  Chapter 15

  Mike came home from work earlier than expected. After all, it had been quite an emotional day. He and Susan followed their nightly ritual of dinner followed by watching the news on TV. Susan knew the reporters would be chasing this story like a hoard of bridezillas storming the doors at a Filene’s basement sale. Susan couldn’t believe it had only been twelve hours since they’d found Amber’s body. She plopped down on the sofa next to Mike.

  “How was work? Are you holding up okay” asked Susan.

  “It was fine. A little hard to concentrate given the morning we had. I can’t stop thinking about Amber’s poor parents.”

  “I know. My heart aches for them.”

  “By the way, my new poker buddy Zachary stopped by the office again. He’s been pricing materials for the new housing development and was picking up forms for permits. Looks like he’ll be in town longer than he planned. Of course, no one will be constructing anything out there until they’re done with the crime scene. His wife is here now too.”

  “Maybe we can get together with them for dinner one night since they don’t know anyone here.” Susan thought a distraction might do them both good. She caught the news out of the corner of her eye. “Hey, look at the TV. That’s Westbrook High.” Susan turned up the volume.

  A news reporter was standing in front of the taped-off crime scene at the school. Thankfully, the body had already been removed, but many bystanders remained.

  The reporter shoved the microphone systematically under the noses of several of the onlookers. The comments were as expected––poor Amber, how could this happen?, I can’t believe it….Most everyone knew the victim and speculations about the murderer––although not solicited––include Joey Martin, Danny Trapani, and Tank Copland. The reporter asked one of the faculty members if she thought teenage rivalries could have been the motive.

  “Well,” said the teacher, “I’ve seen some of these teenagers work themselves into real rages, especially when their reputations are at stake. I hate to say it, but lots of kids here had bones to pick with Amber Bernstein. This is so tragic.”

  As they were listening to the news, Susan’s phone rang. It was Lynette.

  “Lynette, how can that be? When?” Susan’s face felt warm and she began to pick at her cuticles. “Please try. I’ll tell Dad.”

  “What is it?” asked Mike. “What’s wrong?”

  “Lynette says they’re bringing Tank in for questioning. They think he murdered Amber.”

  “Are they frickin kidding? It sure didn’t take them long to finger Tank.”

  “Mike, this is an outrage. What should we do? Can we go down there?” Susan felt nauseous.

  Mike slammed his fist into his other hand. “I’m sure they won’t let us see him. We should call Lynette back and tell her to make sure his lawyer gets down there before they start questioning him. This is totally absurd. Someone has to be setting him up.”

  “Poor Tank. First the sexual harassment charges and now he’s a murder suspect? Hasn’t the poor man been through enough already?” said Susan.

  “That was fast. I hope they haven’t closed their minds on this. They’d better be investigating other suspects too. I’ll bet that girl’s father was pushing for it.”

  “Of course, it must have occurred to Mr. Bernstein that Tank had a motive,” said Susan. “This is all circumstantial. They can’t arrest someone without evidence, can they?”

  “I’m calling Lynette right now,” said Mike. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table.

  Susan switched the stations to see if there were any more stories about the murder, but the local newscasts were just about finished. When Mike got off the phone, he told her that a custodian had come forward and testified that he had seen Tank near the construction site, just outside Julie’s back classroom door around the time of the murder. It was an eyewitness account. That’s why they brought Tank in so soon.”

  “Mike, we have to get to the bottom of this. The witness has to be mistaken.”

  “I can’t imagine what Tank would have been doing at the school at night, especially since he’s been working at the book depository. There has to be an explanation. It must have been someone who looked like Tank.”

  Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. Susan’s phone rang.

  “That might be Lynette again,” she said. It wasn’t. The voice on the other end was unfamiliar. Her face turned pale as she listened. Her posture stiffened.

  “Okay, we’ll be right over.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Mike.

  “That was the nursing home. My Mom just died.” Susan began to sob. “The manager said that the nurse brought her dinner around five and she seemed just fine but when she came back for the tray, Mom
was slumped over the food.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Mike. He grabbed Susan in a bear hug. “You know, not many people live to be 101 years old. She had a long and happy life.” Susan began to cry harder.

  “I didn’t expect her to live forever, but I was hoping she’d be around long enough to meet her first great grandchild. As far as the doctor could tell, her heart just stopped beating. She went peacefully, as if that’s a consolation.”

  Chapter 16

  The day of the funeral seemed to parallel the life of Susan’s mother. It was clear, sunny, and colorful with the fall leaves in their full glory. Susan knew that she was lucky to have had her mom around as long as she did, but she couldn’t deny the shiver that resonated through every bone and the tears that streamed from her eyes. There was a heaviness in her chest and in the pit of her stomach. Mike put his arms around her as he led her into the church. Every pew was filled. Susan’s mom was well loved throughout her life. The priest spoke about what a blessed life Emma Elizabeth Burrows had led.

  “Emma will walk with Jesus in the shadow of God’s eternal love as she embraces everlasting life. We pray for her soul as she enters the kingdom of God,” said the priest. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

  “Amen,” echoed the congregation of friends and relatives. Those who had been raised Catholic made the sign of the cross while others simply bowed their heads. Her son Evan put his arm around his mom. Susan was glad that he was able to fly in from St. Louis for the funeral. It was comforting to be surrounded by family. They went outside to the gravesite.

  Lynette and her husband Jason walked over after having tossed roses on the coffin. Lynette gave Susan a hug. Then she addressed her brother. “Hey, Evan. I’m glad you came home.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I know you have your plate full at med school.”

  “Family comes first,” said Evan.

  “I wish Grandma could have been here when the baby was born. Now she’ll never know her great-grandchild,” said Lynette. She patted her baby bump.

  “She will know,” said Susan. “I’m sure of that.” Her blurry eyes scanned the scene and she noticed Tank talking to Julie. Was Tank holding Julie’s hand? Susan took off her bifocals, wiped her eyes and repositioned them on her nose. I must be seeing things, thought Susan. Tank had been miserable since Renee’s death and as far as Susan knew, he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman. Julie was a lovely person. She could be a great support to Tank while he was going through this. She subdued her inner matchmaker for the moment. There were bigger issues at hand. Lynette’s partner, Jackson, approached with his girlfriend Theresa.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” said Jackson.

  “Me too,” said Theresa. “I know how hard it is to lose someone you love. My grandmother died last year. She had Alzheimer’s and we expected it, but still it was hard when it actually happened. I still miss her.”

  “I’m going to go over and see how Tank is doing. I’ll be right back,” said Mike. Evan followed his Dad. Julie and Joey joined the gathering and expressed their condolences.

  Lynette readjusted her stance and rubbed her lower back. “Joey, by the way, have you heard any students talking about Amber’s murder? I suppose the school has called in grief counselors. Are the kids overwhelmingly upset?”

  “Upset? Well, let’s see…she was bullying my friend Kwan constantly. Peyton Meyers seemed terrified every time Amber came near her, like she was being threatened or something. There was Harvey Klodfelter. He’s the boy whose picture Amber posted on Instagram––the one where Harvey’s in his boxer shorts, throwing up into a toilet…should I go on?”

  “I assume that’s a no then,” said Lynette.

  “Maybe her new boyfriend, Nick, is upset. He’s the only one I can think of.”

  “I hate to say it, but Amber was not well liked,” said Julie. “I’m not saying I’m glad she died or anything, but she did some bad things to a lot of people. Do you know she even wrote a letter to MIT trying to discredit Joey? Interfering with my son’s future stepped way over the line.”

  “There’s no excuse for murder. We will find the killer,” said Lynette.

  “Yes, we will,” said Susan. Lynette shot her a look.

  “The police department will find the killer,” clarified Lynette. Mom, Jason and I will see you back at the house.”

  “I hope we’ll see you back there too,” said Susan to Jackson and Theresa.

  “We’ll be there.” Jackson and Theresa followed Lynette and Jason to the parking lot. The wind was picking up a bit. Joey saw someone he knew from school and went to say hello. There was a burst of light, as if someone had quickly flicked a light switch on and then off.

  Julie jumped. “Susan, did you see that?” asked Julie.

  “See what?”

  “Behind the church. From around the corner, did you see a flash of light?”

  “I did,” said Susan. She strained to see the spot Julie had pointed out. Then it happened again. “Wait, I just saw it now. Maybe it’s a flash from a camera?”

  “No offense, but I doubt the Paparazzi are here covering your mom’s funeral.”

  “Come on. Let’s check it out,” said Susan. Even in the midst of her grief, she couldn’t resist a mystery. She needed a diversion. Julie rubbed her wrist and shook her head.

  “It could be trouble. Maybe we should leave it alone,” said Julie.

  “Don’t be silly. Come on.” They carefully made their way through the cemetery to the church. High heels just aren’t meant to be worn outdoors, thought Susan. They carefully peeked around the corner of the church. No one was there.

  “I guess it was my imagination,” said Julie.

  “Or whoever was there doesn’t want to be discovered,” said Susan.

  Chapter 17

  Meanwhile, at Rocking Horse Ranch, Zachary Chichester was involved in a heated discussion with his wife.

  “Dalia, I told you not to follow me here,” said Zachary. “I’m here on business, this isn’t a pleasure trip.”

  “I’m having doubts as to what sort of business you’re doing here,” said Dalia. “I spoke to Phillip. He’s been looking for you. He’s your partner and he has no idea what kind of business you could possibly be attending to here. He says your firm has no project in Westbrook. He’s pretty upset that you took off like you did. Don’t you think you owe it to him to be honest?”

  “Stay out of my business, Dalia. I’m warning you. Get in the car and head on back to New Jersey.” Zachary’s voice sounded like bass drum to Dalia’s ears. It was loud, constant, and highly irritating.

  “No, I came all this way. I think maybe I’ll do a little horseback riding, or perhaps visit the spa. This is quite a lovely little resort you picked out.”

  “I have somewhere to be right now. If I were you, I’d pack and be gone before I return.” Zachary slammed the hotel room door.

  Dalia had grown quite adept at feigning bravado around Zachary, while secretly her toes were shaking inside her shoes. She had no intention of leaving. She knew Zachary was up to no good here in this little town but she didn’t yet have a clue as to what it was. Hmmm, maybe the spa isn’t such a bad idea, she thought. She changed her shirt and ran a brush through her stylishly-cut auburn hair. She’d just had her bangs trimmed before the trip. Bangs, she thought. They were born out of necessity but she’d grown to like them. After grabbing her key card, she went downstairs to the Rocking Horse Spa. The sign over the entrance read ‘Mares and Stags Welcome.’ She inquired about getting a pedicure and was pleased to find out that there had been a cancellation. She picked out a color and had a seat in the first pedicure chair.

  This is quite a nice little spa, thought Dalia. The walls were all glass and from the pedicure chair she could see people on a path riding real live horses. The air smelled like warm lavender––very relaxing. She took off her shoes and socks, stuck her feet into the bubbly warm water, and had a sip of herbal tea that the rec
eptionist had offered her. She looked at the woman in the chair next to her and started a conversation.

  “I love that color. What’s it called?” said Dalia.

  “It’s called Sienna Secret. I love it.”

  “It’s nice to see a color that isn’t just another variation of red or coral,” said Dalia. “Where are you visiting from?”

  “Oh, I’m not. I live here. I’m just enjoying an end of the school week pedicure. And you? Are you visiting from out of town?” asked the woman.

  “Yes. I live in New Jersey. Saddle River to be exact. So do you have a hot date tonight or are those pretty toenails just for your own happiness?”

  “Well,” said the woman. At that moment, both women audibly gasped as they looked out the window. A man on the path appeared to be arguing with his wife or girlfriend. The women watched as the man shoved the girl, grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her, and then slapped her hard across the face. The receptionist had apparently witnessed the incident as well and quickly called security.

  “That’s horrible!” said Dalia. “Men who do that sort of thing out to be castrated and thrown in jail for life.”

  “I totally agree,” said the woman in the other chair. “How humiliating and painful that girl’s life must be.” Dalia saw the woman’s face turn red with anger and felt her own face flush with rage. “There’s never an excuse for domestic violence.”

  “Well, it looks like security is out there now. Even if he’s intercepted this time, there will always be another and another time. Men like that need to be stopped,” said Dalia.

  “I agree wholeheartedly,” replied her companion. “By the way, back to our conversation, it so happens I do have a date. That’s the only reason I’m spending money on a pedicure during closed-shoe season. How about you? Are you here with a husband?”