Scheduled to Death Read online

I put both hands on Linc’s chest, pressing him gently backwards at the same time he leaned forward with an atavistic need to protect and comfort the woman he loved. His shoulders slumped. He stumbled backward and sank to the floor, leaning heavily on the wall behind him.

  I left Tess upstairs with Linc and went downstairs to await the police and flag them down if they had any trouble finding the house. That’s what I’d told Tess, anyway. But once outside I bent over, put my hands on my knees, and sucked in deep, cool breaths of the rain-freshened air. I shook my head. How on earth could any of us live in a world without Sarah? She was one of those people who provided the glue that held a group of friends together. The elastic that kept anyone from straying too far from the center or from feeling like an outsider, lost and alone.

  I looked up and down the street, which was empty now that the kids were in school and the adults had headed off to work. Everything looked just as it had a few minutes earlier, before we knew Sarah was dead. How on earth could it look so much the same when so many things had changed?

  I stood and paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the house, mentally listing all the things that Linc would need to do. Who would need to be notified? Did Sarah have other family? I couldn’t remember, which made me feel like a terrible friend. I knelt and retied my already neatly tied sneakers, which made me feel like an idiot.

  It seemed as though hours had passed, but I’d probably been waiting only a few minutes when a green Subaru pulled into the driveway. The car sported a mountain bike on the roof and I wondered if the driver, Paolo Bianchi, had been hitting the trails before work. Paolo climbed out of the driver’s seat. He wore khakis with a button-down shirt and tie, and a gold detective’s badge clipped to his belt. Detectives in many local police departments still wore suits and ties, but Orchard View was a small force and the old chief had mandated a more casual look to help detectives seem more approachable.

  “Morning, Paolo,” I called, crossing the front lawn. Paolo waved while rummaging in his overstuffed messenger bag. He triumphantly pulled out the tablet he used for taking case notes and nearly tripped as he stepped from the driveway onto the grass.

  “Morning, Paolo,” I tried again, reaching out my hand to shake his. He enveloped me in a hug.

  “Hey, Maggie,” he said, releasing me and smiling. “How can I help? Who is hurt?” Paolo spoke a tad too loudly and stopped as if he’d heard his own voice and realized it wasn’t quite appropriate to the situation. The youngest detective on the force, his manners were a little rough around the edges and he lacked confidence in unscripted situations—especially in the absence of his mentor, Detective Jason Mueller.

  “It’s Sarah Palmer.” I turned and waved my hand toward the house. “She’s d—dead, I’m afraid. It must have happened sometime—er, sometime last night.”

  Paolo sighed, gestured toward the house, and said. “Let’s take a look.”

  I thought I’d followed him immediately, but he must have detected some hesitation on my part because he turned around and smiled. “It will be okay, Maggie. We’ll take care of it, whatever it is. If you don’t want to come inside, just tell me where she is.”

  I trudged forward and tried to pull myself together. Before we reached the porch, a black Orchard View police SUV came screaming around the corner with the siren on and lights flashing. My eyebrows drew together and I frowned.

  The noise clashed with my need for a somber, respectful atmosphere in which to grieve the death of my friend.

  The SUV screeched to a stop at the curb, facing the wrong way on the street. I sighed, knowing that the investigation of a death—any death—seldom considered the needs of grieving relatives and friends. I watched as an older man I’d never met opened the car door and leveraged his considerable bulk from the front seat. Standing, he smoothed his shirt over his belly and adjusted his tie, his ill-fitting suit, and his sunglasses before scowling and approaching the house.

  “Who’s that?” I whispered to Paolo. “Where’s Jason?” Detective Jason Mueller was a friend of my family and he’d gone above and beyond to help us out. While Orchard View detectives theoretically investigated all cases, with no specialized robbery or homicide teams, I’d understood that Jason was typically dispatched to the scene of violent or unexpected deaths.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Paolo said. “Follow my lead for now.”

  I’d expected Paolo to tell me Jason would arrive shortly. His cryptic answer made me turn to look at him, my eyebrows raised in question.

  “Later,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Not now.”

  Paolo descended the porch steps to greet the detective.

  “What we got?” the detective asked.

  “I just arrived a moment ago myself, sir,” Paolo said. “I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Maggie McDonald, a friend of Detective Mueller. Maggie, this is Acting Detective Lieutenant Gordon Apfel.”

  I shook the man’s damp hand.

  “Are you the homeowner, Mrs. McDonald?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m employed by Professor Lincoln Sinclair, who owns the house. Sarah Palmer is his fiancé. Sarah was Linc’s fiancé. She’s dead. We found her this morning.”

  “Yes, yes.” said the detective, dismissing me. “Wait here, please. We’ll have questions for you shortly.” He cleared phlegm from his throat and brushed dandruff from the shoulders of his worn and too-small suit jacket.

  I felt that I should escort the police inside and introduce them to Linc. Or perhaps we’d do better waiting for Jason Mueller. I wasn’t sure where Gordon Apfel fit into the hierarchy of the Orchard View police force, but I was certain Paolo Bianchi wouldn’t want to start an investigation without Jason’s keen and experienced eye.

  “Should we—” I began.

  The detective cut me off, bringing his hand up like a crossing guard ordering me to stop.

  “Ma’am. Please. I’m the detective in charge. Have a seat here on the porch.” He hooked his foot around the leg of one of the wicker porch chairs and pulled it forward a full inch.

  I spoke directly to Paolo, ignoring the older detective. “Paolo, we’ve turned off the electricity. Tess, Linc, and someone named Boots are upstairs. Tess may need help moving Linc away from Sarah. He’s understandably very upset.”

  “You let him touch the body?” The detective I was now referring to in my head as “Detective Awful” looked from Paolo to me and back again, as if he were unsure which of us he should arrest first. “That’s a misdemeanor.”

  I stared back, unsure how to respond. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong. Linc had been outside the room when I’d left him, and Tess would know to keep Linc from touching Sarah. Paolo said nothing. He just stood aside, inviting Detective Awful to precede him into the house.

  Making an effort to shake off the discomfort Detective Awful had left with me, I sat down, choosing the couch instead of the chair the detective had touched. I pulled out my phone and stared at it. I scrolled through emails, too distracted to absorb what I was reading. I was relieved when Tess, Linc, Boots, and Newton emerged from the house.

  “We’ve been dismissed,” Tess said. “But asked not to leave the scene.”

  Boots looked uncomfortable. “I need to get over to the garden.” She looked around as if in search of an escape route.

  “I can’t leave Sarah,” Linc said, staring over his shoulder into the house.

  I patted the cushion next to me on the couch. “Sit down, Linc. Paolo Bianchi is a friend and a great police officer. Sarah is in good hands.”

  “I’ll go make tea,” Tess said, “for while we’re waiting.” I’d known Tess long enough to be able to see that underneath her warm words and demeanor, she was bristling with anger. I could only assume that her first encounter with Detective Awful had gone no better than mine.

  Linc leaned forward with his head down. His hands gripped his thighs. He sighed heavily, then looked beyond the porch at the quiet street. If I’d had to guess, I�
��d have said he was hoping to see Sarah walking toward the house. Newton scrunched his large body in between Linc’s feet and the round coffee table. He sighed, squirmed to get comfortable, and dropped his chin on top of Linc’s shoe.

  “What time is it?” Linc asked.

  I glanced at my phone to make sure I got it right. While Linc was arguably in much greater distress than I was, I had a sense that hours, days, or even decades had passed since we’d arrived at the house.

  “Ten o’clock,” I said. “It feels like we’ve landed in another time and another world, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Boots. “But I don’t have time for that detective’s nonsense. I hadn’t planned on a delay like this today. He really can’t keep us here, you know.”

  Linc sighed and shifted in his chair, then reached down to pat Newton. He pushed his hair back with his hands and leaned against the chair cushion. “This can’t be happening. I’m a scientist. A trained observer. How can Sarah be dead? I want to click my heels together and go back to the world that makes sense. The one where Sarah is still alive.”

  “What did you see up there, Linc?” I thought it might help him to focus on something analytical. “Was there anything that might explain what happened or when? Why was Sarah here at the house in the middle of last night’s storm?”

  Oh my God, I thought. Sarah didn’t show up for work. They’re going to panic, wondering what happened. I reached for my phone to call the principal of the middle school where Sarah served as librarian. I pulled my hand back before I dialed the number. I guessed the police might appreciate postponing the explosion of gossip that would accompany the news of Sarah’s death. They’d want to control the release of information as much as possible.

  I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to lessen the pain I’d felt upon seeing the evidence of Sarah’s death. I had a sense that sharing the story would take some of the crushing weight off my chest.

  Linc stared at a cobweb in the corner of the porch ceiling. His forehead creased as though he was rebuilding the scene in his head and painstakingly examining each portion of the room.

  “The window was open,” Linc said. “And the floor was wet. I don’t think any of my equipment was disturbed. And none of my books or papers seemed damaged by the water.” He looked out to the front walkway, where small puddles of water evaporated in the sun, giving the air a touch of humidity that was rare in the drought-besieged San Francisco Bay Area.

  “What was she doing here, Maggie? Wasn’t she supposed to be at work? She wasn’t planning on meeting us here, was she?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Linc. Your workroom was the last step of our project here. Was she trying to help out or hurry things up? Were you at her house last night or here?”

  “Sunday nights, she likes to stay at her house by herself. She gets all her materials ready for school, gets her laundry up to date, and goes to bed super-early. I was here in the evening, but like I said, I had an idea and took off for my lab in the middle of the night.”

  Something was bugging me about Linc’s story, but I wasn’t sure what. It wasn’t unusual for me to have trouble following his train of thought. His train was an express, whereas most people’s minds needed to stop at every station.

  Before I could figure out what was bothering me or ask another question, Tess stepped through the front doorway carrying a tray with a teapot, mugs, and a tin of shortbread cookies. She cocked a hip and stared at the low coffee table.

  “Give me a hand here, Maggie. I don’t think I can put the tray down without spilling everything into Linc’s lap.”

  I jumped up to help and we spent a few minutes pouring tea, stirring plenty of sugar into Linc’s cup, and encouraging him to drink and to eat. I couldn’t remember where I’d read that sugar and carbs helped calm people in shock, but that was the prescription we were applying. Newton raised his head just enough so that his nose was visible over the edge of the table, sniffing.

  I took three cookies and put them next to my own mug. Tess must have spotted my slightly guilty look, because she smiled sheepishly and grabbed a handful herself. “We’ve all had a shock,” she said, as Linc nudged a cookie toward the dog’s nose. Newton lapped it up with his tongue.

  I took a sip of tea and felt the comforting warmth seep into limbs I hadn’t known were chilled. “Thanks, Tess, this is great. Linc and I were trying to piece together what might have happened and what Sarah was doing at the house. Any ideas?” I cringed at the sound of my falsely cheerful voice.

  Tess shook her head. “We had that electrician out a couple of weeks ago. His job was to check out the system and make sure everything was safe. I can’t believe he made a mistake that would have killed Sarah.”

  Linc put down his tea mug. “Sarah wasn’t an idiot. She knew about basic electrical safety. Yet she was lying facedown in a puddle of water with an electrical cord in her hand. She knew better than to touch an exposed wire while standing in water. Who does that? Definitely not Sarah.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  I grasped his hand.

  Detective Awful burst through the front door before I could think of anything to say that might comfort Linc. None of us rose respectfully, although I briefly wondered if I should. The detective sank into the last remaining chair without being invited and Paolo leaned against the porch railing with his tablet poised, ready to take notes. He looked to Detective Awful as if expecting him to take control of this impromptu meeting. Detective Awful cleared his throat and flapped his hand at Paolo.

  Paolo looked at each of us. “I know you’ve had a rough morning, but we have a few quick questions.”

  Detective Awful interrupted. “We’ve got plenty of questions and will need to interview you each separately. Our crime-scene team will be here shortly.”

  “Crime-scene team?” I said. “Surely it was an accident?”

  Detective Awful made a noise of disgust. Paolo jumped in to answer me.

  “In any case of violent, sudden, or unattended death, the scene falls under the control of the Santa Clara County Medical Examiner/ Coroner.” Paolo spoke slowly and gently, which was giving us the time we needed to hear what he had to say. “We’ve called Dr. Pravadi, the MEC, and he’s sending one of his investigators. He’s also given us permission to call in some of the Orchard View officers to help us gather evidence.”

  “You mean you think it’s mur–” I began, but Detective Awful interrupted, flapping his hand toward Paolo.

  “Call again, Bianchi, they’re late. For now.” He turned toward Linc. “I understand you were the deceased’s fiancé? This is your home? Not her primary residence?”

  Linc winced when the detective referred to Sarah as the deceased, but nodded in answer to his questions.

  “So where were you last night? Your girlfriend was here and you weren’t?”

  Tess gasped. There was a hint of something ghastly in the dreadful man’s tone that we all reacted to. Newton growled, Boots made a tsking sound, and I leaned back in my chair to get as far away from Detective Awful as I could. Linc stared as though he hadn’t understood.

  I couldn’t put my finger on what the detective was implying. Did he think that Linc set a deadly trap and protected himself by making sure he was elsewhere? Or was the detective saying that Sarah would be alive if Linc had been at the house to protect her? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that my hands were fisted, my skin prickled, and I was tempted to run.

  Gordon Apfel was a jerk, that much was certain. Detective Mueller would never have been so insensitive to Linc’s feelings. Where was Jason Mueller? We needed him. If Paolo wasn’t going to contact him, I would. I reached for my phone, but before I could begin to type a message, Paolo leaned forward, putting himself between us and Detective Awful, almost as if he were trying to protect us.

  “Linc, we’re going to need to look at Sarah’s house,” Paolo said. “Do you have a key?”

  Linc patted his pockets and shook his head. He look
ed at me.

  I opened my bag, pulled out my key ring, and removed the key with the pink bumper that would open the front door of Sarah’s bungalow. Organizing and clearing out Linc’s house was only part of the job I’d undertaken with the couple. They wanted to maximize space in Sarah’s smaller house, making room for Linc’s things and weeding out duplicate belongings. Sarah was particularly interested in developing organizational systems that would keep them from driving each other crazy when they combined their households.

  I handed the key to Paolo.

  “I’d like this back, please, when you’re done,” I told him. “Do you need us on site when you’re there?”

  “I’ll give the orders around here,” said Detective Awful. “We’re not in the habit of requiring civilians to help our investigations. You will all stay here until we get a few things straight. Bianchi, get the address and send a team to the dead woman’s house. We want to learn all we can about her.” He looked up and scowled at each one of us. “Before anyone messes things up.”

  He focused his attention on Tess. “You,” he said, pointing his finger. “Inside. I’ll interview you first.”

  Tess stood to her full six feet one inches, a height she achieved with the help of her stilettos. She was my friend and I knew her well enough to know that her dominatrix-like persona was an act. The real Tess was a marshmallow and a slob. But the detective was suitably intimidated. He pushed his chair back a few inches and looked up at Tess’s face.

  “Sir,” she said. “Detective Awful, is it?” I held my hand to my mouth to hide an uncontrolled smirk, delighted that Tess had come up with the same disrespectful nickname that I had for the man.

  “Apfel. Gordon Apfel.”

  “I’m happy to answer any questions you might have, but right now, I have a meeting.” She handed him her card, staring him down and forcing him to scoot backward.

  “You can reach me on my cell phone to make an appointment. Tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock would work well, at my office. The address is on the card.”

  Tess turned her head toward me and away from the detective. Out of his line of sight, she winked at me and mouthed the words call you in a minute. She strode down the steps and walked to her sleek black BMW, heels clicking on the front walk. Before anyone could react, she’d jumped into her car and was gone.