Death Takes No Bribes: An Endurance Mystery (Endurance Mysteries Book 3) Read online

  TJ looked thoughtfully at Grace’s normally placid brown eyes, which now appeared a bit unsure. “I’ll get the wine.” She walked out to the kitchen, returning with two glasses and a bottle of sauvignon blanc. She poured a couple of inches into Grace’s glass and then into hers. She handed Grace her glass, and they clicked them together and each took a sip. “Grace, are you sure you don’t want me to do a little background investigation on him?”

  “No.”

  “No, you don’t, or no you’re not sure?”

  “No, as in I’m not sure so maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t want you to—”

  “I am not as trusting as you, Grace. You know, the world has plenty of people running around who smile and are lovely to look at—like Jeff—but you shouldn’t trust them. Maybe he’s really a latter-day Jack the Ripper who goes around eviscerating people when he’s not being charming.”

  Grace Kimball laughed and took a long sip of her wine. She folded her arms in front of her. “No, don’t see him as Jack the Ripper. He’ll tell me when he comes back. I’m sure of it.” She nodded her head. “Besides, he just bought a four thousand-plus-square-foot house he is renovating here in town. You haven’t forgotten that, right?”

  TJ swirled the wine around in her glass and glanced up at Grace. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

  “Oh, he will. I know he will. I don’t know what shape he’ll be in. Whatever this mysterious mission is, I’m worried that it may be something upsetting to him.”

  “That’s why you have me here. To pick up the pieces.”

  “I know, TJ. You’re the realist, I’m the daydream believer.” She gave her a wistful smile and looked in the fireplace. Suddenly, TJ’s phone played “Glory Days,” and she pulled it out of her pocket, looking at Grace. “Myers. This is my day off. I hope he’s not after me because someone called in sick…” She pushed the accept button on her cell. “Yeah, Myers.” Grace watched while the expression on TJ’s face darkened as she listened to the desk officer from the Endurance Police Department. “And when do they think this happened?” She listened for another minute. Then, “Okay. I’ll be there in the next ten minutes. Tell Jake to hold the fort.” She tapped the button off. “John Hardy.”

  “The principal at the high school?”

  “Yeah. What kind of guy is he? You worked for him.”

  “He was at the high school for my last three years. A decent guy, well-organized, treated me fine. Quite definite about what he wanted done and how he believed the school should be run. Highly disciplined. Always fair. He was a good administrator. Why?”

  “Have you ever heard anything shady about him? Does he chase skirts or drink too much or gamble?”

  Grace giggled. “Please, TJ. You know me. I’d be the last to know.”

  TJ shook her head, smiling. “True. Why would I ask you?”

  “That was my question. Why?”

  “It appears Del Novak was cleaning up at the high school building when he found John Hardy in his office, dead.” She cleared her throat, picked up her wine glass, and stood up.

  “What? Do they think it was a heart attack or a stroke?”

  “Don’t know. Myers said they want me in ASAP. Doesn’t sound good.”

  Grace eyed TJ’s wine glass. “Good thing you didn’t drink the whole glass.”

  TJ nodded her head. “I may wish I had.” She turned and carried the half-empty glass to the kitchen, returning and checking for her badge on her belt.

  Grace rose. “Should I call Lettie? Didn’t you say Del Novak found him?”

  “Yeah, Myers said that. Knowing Lettie, she’s probably with him and intends to answer all the interrogation questions for him. Actually, Grace, it’s a crime scene, so she can’t be there.”

  “Makes sense. I’ll grab your coat and scarf. You need to go.” She followed TJ out to the front hallway and pulled her clothing out of the closet.

  As TJ stuck her arms in her coat she said, “Think about what I said, Grace…about the background check.” She opened the door, staring across the street at her own house on the other side of Sweetbriar Court. Then she turned. “I’ll let you know what happens with Hardy’s death.”

  “Thanks, TJ. Be careful.” Grace closed the door behind her, and wandered back to the living room to pick up the cards. While she loaded the dishwasher, she thought about their conversation.

  How awful for Liz Hardy and their children. She had met them socially over the years, but didn’t really know Liz. The two children were always well behaved and usually in the newspaper with their names on the honor rolls at their schools. What could have happened? He was way too young to die. How old would he be? Maybe late thirties, early forties? It had to be a heart attack or a stroke. Maybe it was genetic; perhaps his father had died young. In any case, because it was an “unattended death,” TJ had to investigate since she was the lead detective.

  Her mind wandered to TJ’s offer on a background check. Jeff was amazingly good at what he did, and people liked him because he was so personable. Grace couldn’t believe he had anything dark or sinister about him. He had moved to Endurance last summer to become the editor of the small town’s newspaper. Grace, who had just retired from teaching English at the high school, accepted a part-time job at the newspaper, a job that had morphed into practically a full-time occupation. Then, they’d started dating last fall, just after she turned fifty-seven to his sixty-two.

  She remembered his kiss. She had to stand on her tiptoes to return that kiss because he was six feet tall and she just came up to his chin. The warm, soft feel of his lips pressing on hers, his enthusiasm as he’d grabbed her hand to walk up the huge front staircase at the house he was restoring—of course, he’d return. Why wouldn’t he?

  She thought about her husband, Roger, dead from a heart attack these twenty-seven years. It had been a long time since someone had held her in his arms, kissed her, or made her feel loved and needed. Maybe that was part of the problem, TJ would say. But Grace was sure Roger would have approved of Jeff Maitlin. Grace knew him to be an honest and kind person, intelligent, well-read, professional, traveled, and a great kisser. The last asset was so important, she thought, laughing to herself.

  What if TJ were right? What if he had a dark past and somehow it had come back, causing him to change his plans? What if he didn’t return?

  Grace knew TJ. Something about the detective’s face told her that her friend would totally ignore her “no” when it came to checking on Jeff’s past. Then Grace would have to decide if she wanted to know.

  Chapter Two

  TJ parked her unmarked car in front of the main entrance to Endurance High School. Leaving her own pickup at the police station, she had driven with Jake Williams, her partner. The initial crime scene information came from Alex Durdle, a young cop relatively new to the police force. TJ knew Alex was a competent patrol officer; now he was at the school guarding the crime scene, undoubtedly trying to console Del Novak.

  Poor Del, TJ thought. He must wonder what kind of town he’s moved to. After early January, he probably thinks he should keep an eye on his girlfriend, Lettie, who almost became a crime statistic. Now here he is—the first person to discover a murder. What was happening to her town? TJ had come back after graduating with a law enforcement major and moved up to lead detective. It had always been a relatively quiet, sleepy town. But recently she’d had more than she’d bargained for in murder scenes.

  She turned toward Jake, shaking her head. “Well, here we go, partner. Dispatch says it’s a ‘suspicious death.’ Murder stats rise again.”

  Jake double-checked his pocket for his cell phone and notepad, then nodded to her. “Never had so much excitement until you started work, TJ. How do you know this Del Novak? What’s he to you again?”

  “Boyfriend to Lettisha Kimball, Grace’s sister-in-law. Met him because he renovated Grace’s kitchen, an experience where he discovered the terror of the countryside, Lettie. Man, if I had her contacts in town I wouldn’t have any
need to pay informants. I swear she has my office bugged.”

  Jake laughed. “Yeah, I know. I ran into her at The Bread Box Bakery where she was holding court with three or four of the workers on break.” He shook his head. “And this John Hardy? Do you know him?”

  “No. Just know who he is. I haven’t been to the school in quite some time—well, except for basketball games, but Hardy was here the last three years of Grace Kimball’s career. She thinks he’s a standup guy, but then Grace has been fooled before. I’ve watched him at basketball games, been impressed with his crowd control. He obviously knows his students. I always see him talking to them.”

  “Last principal I knew here was old Sutter, but he stayed in his office. The building could have collapsed around him. Never knew what went on.”

  “All right. Let’s go. May as well get this over with.” They trudged through the snow, their breath flowing out into mini-clouds in the cold air. Two squad cars were parked in front of the school on the circle drive, while a local funeral home hearse waited, its engine running.

  Endurance High School was a massive old brick building designed in the early 1900s. It rose two stories above a basement floor, boasting the ornate columns of the time period surrounding the main entrance. But like all old buildings, it had seen various additions, multiple doors, replaced windows, all providing easy access to anyone who wanted to get in unseen. In more recent years, the security was somewhat better since stories of school shootings led the evening news on television. The school had been renovated, maybe thirty years ago, but it still had the look of a twentieth-century school with high ceilings, lots of neutral paint on the inside walls, and one end rising above the main roof because of a gymnasium. It hadn’t changed much since TJ’s days.

  When they approached the front door, they found Zach Gray inside, waiting to open the door for the rest of them. Since 9/11, all the schools had security locks which could only be opened from the outside by keys, or if the secretary pushed a button in response to someone at the door asking for entrance. Made sense, TJ thought, especially with all the school shootings or kidnappings by noncustodial parents. Tiny Endurance was too poor, however, for metal detectors.

  “Hi, Zach. Been up there yet?” asked TJ.

  “Yeah, TJ. Not bad.” He smiled. “Not like last summer with all the blood. Much less excitement.”

  “I keep telling you, kid, excitement is not good.” She chuckled. “We’ll send Alex down to keep you company.”

  “Oh, Zach, call the PD—have them send Martinez and CSI,” added Jake.

  Up, up the front staircase TJ remembered so well. Before she retired last year, Grace’s classroom was at the end of a long hallway on the main floor. She smiled as she remembered how, at first, she had given Grace a run for her money, challenging her to teach this teenager literature and writing. TJ was quite the rebel in her early high school years with a real chip on her shoulder, but after Grace moved her into the honors class, (much against TJ’s will), the teenager flourished. Grace mentored her through high school and college, but she guided much more than her education. She touched her soul. Ever since, the two of them had been friends, watching each other’s backs. It was a good thing, thought the detective, because Grace didn’t realize the darkness TJ saw in her job. Endurance might not be a huge city or urban area, but the darkness was here too. Reaching the landing on the main floor, TJ pointed Jake to the office door, now held open by a rubber doorstop.

  Del Novak slumped in a chair in the outer office, drinking a cup of coffee with Alex Durdle seated next to him.

  TJ studied Del Novak. The old man looked like he had aged ten years, his body sagging, his hands on his lap to keep them from shaking. He was hunched over, taking deep, studied breaths. His glasses, with thick lenses, lay on the table. Then he lifted one hand to rub his eyes as if trying to dismiss what he had seen.

  TJ said, “You doing okay, Del?”

  “I will be shortly, TJ. Whiskey’d be better to calm my nerves, but, you know, I’m in a school. Never seen a dead body like this before. Missed all the various wars. Never had to go. My ticker isn’t in the greatest shape, but I’m better these days at calming myself down. I’ve never seen such a thing in my life,” he repeated, shaking his head slowly.

  “I understand,” said Jake. He looked at Alex, saying, “You can go downstairs and help Zach keep an eye on the door. We’ll call you if we need you. Eventually, you may have to drive Del here home.” Alex left reluctantly as the detective turned to Del. “I’m Jake Williams, TJ’s partner.” He shook Del’s hand, and then took out his notepad and pen. “Can you tell us what happened?” Glancing at Del, he added, “Take your time.”

  Del explained how he found Hardy’s body, but he became visibly nervous and less coherent as he talked about the murder scene. “It’s bizarre, Mr. Williams. A high school principal—who seemed such a decent man to me—sitting there with a weird grin on his face, a crazy lampshade on his head. Bizarre. Who would do such an awful thing?”

  TJ watched Jake pause after writing down a few details. She always admired the way Jake could calm people down. Now he said, “Please, call me Jake. I’m sure it must have been disturbing, especially coming up on it—uh, Mr. Hardy—with no warning that something was wrong. Of course, you didn’t expect to see a body. Did you notice anything else unusual when you went into his office?”

  Del paused for a moment. “Let me think.” He pressed his lips together. Then he said, “It was getting dark because, you know, at this time of year it gets dark early.”

  “Okay. Stop a minute. Does this mean the light in the office was off?”

  “Yes,” said Del. “I think I called out to him, but when he didn’t answer I realized how dark it was, so I turned the light on because I was still by the doorway switch plate.”

  “Good,” said Jake. “Go on.”

  “A lot of stuff was scattered on the floor. A coffee cup shattered into pieces and a cell phone on the floor near the doorway. The filing cabinet—something was unusual about it. Let me think a moment. You know my memory isn’t as good as it used to be.” He paused.

  TJ leaned toward him, saying, “When you have a traumatic event, it may impact your memory. Could be when we check back with you in a couple of days you’ll remember something you’ve temporarily forgotten. Let’s try this for now: Close your eyes and focus. Envision what you saw from the time you stood at the door.”

  “I’ll do that.” He closed his eyes, waiting a full fifteen seconds. “Well, what I told you was right. His nameplate—it’s wooden with a brass plate on it—was under his desk. His chair was turned like he was looking out the window. I could see his left arm hanging over the side of the chair. A few file folders were on the desk. His filing cabinet…Now I remember. The top drawer was slightly open, like he hadn’t quite gotten it shut.” He paused again, opening his eyes. “All I can remember. I think I was too shocked.”

  TJ added, “Great job, Del. Thanks. It always helps to hear firsthand what a witness saw. What do you think, Jake? Need to ask him anything else?”

  “Yeah. How about other people in the building? Did you see anyone else or was anyone here while you cleaned?”

  “Let’s see, now,” Del said. “The social studies teacher, Marilyn Atkins, was downstairs earlier in the afternoon, but she left before I found Mr. Hardy. Course I don’t know how long he had been there. Ms. Atkins, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s over here a lot on Sundays because she teaches history, so she grades piles of papers. We’ve talked occasionally when either of us took a break. Probably shouldn’t repeat gossip, but I heard her husband drinks more’n he should, so maybe that’s why she spends so much time here.”

  “Did you talk today?”

  “Yes. Shortly after I got here—around one, I’d say—I stopped by her room where she was working away like mad. We gabbed a bit about the weather and the storm that was supposed to come in. It’s why she left early. The storm.”

  “Did she seem any diff
erent than usual?”

  “Can’t say she did. Well, maybe a little nervous, but I figured it was because of the storm.”

  “Was Hardy often here on Sundays?” asked TJ.

  “Occasionally. Usually when he had paperwork to catch up on or when the Packers didn’t play football on Sunday,” he said, chuckling. “He likes—er, liked—those Packers.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Not that I saw,” said Del. “It’s a big building with three floors, nooks and crannies, and, like I said, lots of people have keys. Too many, as far as I’m concerned.”

  Jake looked at TJ, she nodded, and he handed his business card to Del, saying, “If you think of anything else later, give me a call, or TJ here. Thanks, Mr. Novak. Oh—also we’d appreciate it if you would keep quiet about what you’ve seen or heard today. It will help our investigation. That means, Del, you cannot tell Lettie Kimball anything. Nothing. I’ll have one of our officers drive you home, and you can pick up your truck later. Might be safer. You’re pretty shook up.” He moved over to the door, calling down to Zach Grey to send Alex Durdle back up.

  “You know,” said Del as he put on his coat, “I do remember something else. When I first got here, a dark sedan was parked out front. The first three letters on the plate were SAM, and then there were more letters or numbers, but I couldn’t see them. Later, when I looked, the car was gone.”

  After they left, TJ said, “Keep quiet? Geez. If Lettie gets ahold of any of this, asking her to keep quiet would be like telling Niagara Falls to flow up instead of down.”

  “You know it could compromise everything if she talks.”

  “Oh, yes,” TJ nodded, shaking her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll put the fear of God into her. Course it might cut down on the pie I get for a while till she forgives me.”