A Killer Christmas Party Page 9

  I looked longingly at Mila’s desk for a split second before sitting down across from Alfred. While I assumed that the police had gone through Mila’s desk, there was always the possibility that they’d missed something, especially if it was in regard to the deaths they’d deemed unsuspicious. What were the chances that I could get some time alone in here though? Alfred had just returned from somewhere, so he was probably settling in for a while.

  He folded his hands on the desk. “What can I help you with?”

  I took out my notebook. “I wanted to confirm that it’s ok for me to instruct the staff on how to arrange the tables and for the kitchen to provide food for the event.”

  He smiled. “Of course. We’re so happy that you’re taking this on. Our residents were quite saddened by the news that the party was cancelled.”

  “I have a few other small things too.” I went over them with him and he helped me figure out a few logistics for the party. He had a box full of photos of previous Christmas parties that I thought would make a nice display. I’d only been in there for twenty minutes when he popped up from his chair and grabbed his jacket.

  “I’ve got to run. I have a… uh… doctor’s appointment to go to.”

  For him, or for his daughter? Having a child that was so sick must have been difficult and I wanted to say something, but since he hadn’t told me himself about his daughter’s illness, I didn’t want to ask about her.

  “It’s great that you’re able to have such a flexible schedule here. It seems like with so many jobs nowadays, they don’t want to understand that people have families.” I motioned to the picture of a young girl on his desk. “Is that your daughter?”

  He gazed at it and his anxious demeanor softened for a moment. “Yes. She’s thirteen.” He looked up at me and uttered a harsh laugh. “This job may allow for some flexibility in my schedule, but our insurance isn’t worth anything.”

  “That’s too bad.” I pressed my lips together. “Health care costs are insane.”

  He glanced at the photo again. “Especially if you have a major illness.” He gestured to the other desk in the room and then to the box of old photos. “You can sit at Mila’s desk to work on this if you’d like. I usually keep this door locked and only Mila and I had the key, but I think it will be ok if you use it for today. Just make sure to lock up when you’re done.”

  I glanced at the other desk, which was neat and tidy, a stark contrast to his messy workspace. I couldn’t help but wonder what the desk contained. If Mila had been killed because she’d been looking into the suspicious deaths of two of the residents, maybe there would be some sort of clue in there.

  “Sure. That would be great.”

  He scurried out of there, leaving me all alone in a room that was full of possible clues. I peeked my head out the door, but he was long gone. I didn’t want to alert anyone that I was snooping, so I closed the door partway.

  Now, where to start? I scanned the room. The file cabinet or Mila’s desk were the best bets for information. I figured the file cabinet would be more difficult to get access to if Alfred came back, so I started there.

  First, I pulled out the medical records for the two men that had died first. Exactly like Desi said, their medical records showed that they both had less than a year to live due to terminal illnesses. I felt a pang of guilt as I reviewed their medical history without their permission, but they were both dead and I was trying to right a possible wrong.

  Then, I plucked Harry Pearson’s file out of the cabinet and spread it out atop the open drawer. There was nothing in there about him having any sort of terminal illness. Like Delilah had said, up until about a week before his death, he was perfectly healthy for an eighty-eight-year-old man. I’d seen him with my own eyes a few weeks ago, in robust health as he helped plan his company’s Christmas party. It was certainly possible that he’d died of natural causes, but if his mental decline had occurred just like the others, there was also a chance that the deaths were related.

  I heard footsteps in the hallway, shoved the file back in the drawer and closed it as quietly as possible, then slid onto the chair behind Mila’s desk.

  The nurse I’d seen earlier came in, wearing a nametag that read Nurse Fluge. I smiled at her and said, “Good morning.” My heart was pounding. That had been too close.

  She eyed me. “What are you doing in here? You shouldn’t be back here.”

  “Alfred said I could use Mila’s desk while I’m here working on the Christmas party.”

  She huffed. “I don’t know why he’d say that. Nobody is allowed back here except staff.”

  I didn’t know whether to leave or stay. But Alfred had told me that I could stay and I hadn’t managed to get much snooping in before Nurse Fluge had arrived.

  “I suppose I’m a member of the staff—at least until after the Christmas party.”

  She glared at me, but just gestured to the file cabinet. “I need some patient files.”

  “Of course.” I made a show of rearranging some papers I’d left on Mila’s desk.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move over to the drawers containing the medical records and heard the sounds of files being pulled out of the thick outer files folders, then the drawer slamming shut.

  “Don’t forget to lock the door behind you when you leave.” She strode out the room, her rubber-bottomed shoes smacking against the vinyl floors.

  When I couldn’t hear her footsteps any more, I let out the breath I’d been holding. The file cabinet closest to Alfred’s desk had been labeled “Employee Records” and I wanted to check those out before Nurse Fluge returned again.

  I quickly went through the staff records but didn’t find anything amiss. Then, I went back to Mila’s desk and sorted through her drawers. There was an article from the newspaper about elder abuse that she’d printed out, but that wasn’t necessarily a smoking gun since she did work at a retirement home. I finished the work that I needed to do for the party and stood to leave.

  A book on the corner of Mila’s desk caught my eye. It was the newest romance novel from one of my favorite authors and I’d been meaning to grab a copy of it. The corners of the pages were pristine and the spine uncracked. I doubted she’d had a chance to read it before her death. I picked it up to read the back cover and a piece of paper floated out of the book and onto the desk.

  The scrap of notebook paper contained only two words printed on it in blue ink—Calvado Bldg.

  I’d never heard of the building, but there must have been some reason Mila had stuck the note in the book. If she hadn’t read it yet, it was unlikely that she’d used it as a bookmark, so why was it there?

  Well, Calvado Building should be something I could look up easily. I reached into my purse for my cell phone. It wasn’t in the side pocket where I usually kept it. I rummaged around in my giant purse for a few minutes, but couldn’t find it, so I started unloading the contents on to the desk in front of me. Ella’s diapers and wipes, my wallet, my keys, a bottle of hand sanitizer, a plastic baggie full of Cheerios, a random assortment of crayons and other small toys, but no phone. Shoot. I was sure I’d had it with me when I left the house that morning, so I must have left it in the car.

  I didn’t think anyone would miss the scrap of paper, so I tossed it into my purse to check on it later. It might not mean anything, but I had so little to go on that I didn’t want to discount a possible clue.

  I checked to see if Delilah was in the Great Room, but she still wasn’t there. I hoped she was feeling ok, but I didn’t know her very well, and I didn’t want to bother her in her room if she was sleeping, so I left for work at the Boathouse.

  15

  I took a late lunch break and met Desi for lunch at the teriyaki place down the street from the Boathouse.

  “This is delicious,” she said as she bit into a piece of grilled chicken teriyaki. “Don’t tell any of my customers, but the soups and sandwiches we serve at the BeansTalk start to bore me after a while. There’
s only so many bowls of minestrone I can eat before I want to heave it against a wall.”

  I poured teriyaki sauce on my food, forming a pool of the sticky, sweet sauce on top of the mounded rice and strips of chicken. “I don’t know how you can work there every day and not be five hundred pounds. I’d eat all of the leftover pastries at the end of the day.”

  “Someone who works for the food bank comes and picks up any perishable leftovers. The food bank gets some fresh pastries to give out and a happy side effect is that I’m not tempted by leftovers.” She shoveled a forkful of rice into her mouth.

  “Has Tomàs said anything further about the investigation into the deaths at the retirement home?” I asked.

  “He said there isn’t one.” She shrugged. “Pearson’s son said there’s no money missing from his father’s accounts and without any family members filing complaints, the police have no reason to investigate it further.”

  “So that’s it? This is going to be upsetting for Delilah. She’s convinced herself that there is something sinister going on.”

  “I know.” Desi’s face fell and she set down her fork. “But maybe there isn’t. Wouldn’t that be better?”

  “But what if there is?” I peered at her. “What if Chas Pearson is lying about his father’s accounts?”

  She gave me a skeptical look. “Why would he do that?”

  “I told you how fast he cancelled the company Christmas party after his father’s death and he shut down the business without any warning to his employees.” I locked eyes with her. “What if he wanted control of his father’s finances immediately and didn’t want there to be an investigation?”

  “So he killed his own father?”

  “I don’t know. At the very least, he may have covered up his murder.” I sighed. “Or maybe it’s nothing.”

  “But Mila’s death wasn’t nothing. Let’s think about this. The news hasn’t reported anything about possible motives into her death and everyone at the retirement home loved her. Why would someone kill her?”

  “I don’t know.” I pushed some grains of rice around my plate with the tines of the fork, forming a neat pile on the side. I wished all of life could be that simple. “Let’s say there is something going on there. I think Chas is a jerk, but if it wasn’t him who killed those men and Mila, who was it?”

  “The money is always a motive. If those men were conned, where did the money go? And how did whoever killed them know they had money to take in the first place?”

  “Well, Pearson obviously had money because he owned a successful company in the area. That one is easy. But the others? Hmm …” I wished I’d gone through the last file cabinet in Alfred’s office to see what was in the resident’s files. “The other men were terminally ill, just as Tomàs told you. There was something though. Mila had an article in her desk about scams people ran on the elderly. Convincing them to transfer money into another investment account and then stealing the money is pretty common. But it would have to be someone the men trusted.”

  “So who would she have told about her suspicions?”

  “Alfred Dolan, the administrator. Maybe Nurse Fluge in regard to their health. The receptionist, Dana, had access to all of the records too. I suppose there could have been someone else at the home that I don’t know of.”

  “That’s a lot of suspects.” Desi frowned. “No wonder the police seem stuck on Will—he’s the easiest one to target first.”

  “Remember Anna Westen?”

  “Yeah.” Her head shot up. “How is she involved in all of this?”

  “Well, she’s not really, but since she’s a paralegal for an estate planning law firm, she meets with clients often at Ericksville Heights.” I fiddled with my water glass. “I may have suggested to her that if one of the deceased men was a client of hers that she should check their bank records for suspicious transactions.”

  Desi’s eyes lit up. “If she can find anything, that could blow open the whole investigation. The money trail should lead to whoever conned those men and probably killed them.”

  “Right—and to whomever Mila confided in by error. But we don’t even know if Anna can get that information.”

  “So what else can we do in the meantime?” Desi asked. “Let’s try this from another angle. Did you find anything out about the other suspects we talked about? That nurse, or the administrator? Or even the receptionist?”

  “I did a little snooping but there weren’t any major red flags. The administrator, Alfred, is well respected by the residents, but he has a daughter who’s undergoing expensive medical treatments. He could use the money.” I paused, remembering how the elderly woman had asked Albert for help with transferring money between bank accounts. Had other residents asked him for help as well? If so, he’d know a great deal about their finances. I continued, “Nurse Fluge has access to the patient files in Albert’s office, so both of them could have known about the diagnosis of terminal illnesses for the first two victims. If those men died all of a sudden, no one would have said anything and their tracks would have been covered. By the same token, Dana had access too, whenever Alfred wasn’t in the office. I don’t know how any of them would have known how much money the victims had or how Pearson fits in with it all.”

  “Maybe you could ask Delilah next time you go there if she has any thoughts about how they’d know about a resident’s finances.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m worried that she’ll do some snooping of her own and I want to keep her out of this as much as possible for her safety.”

  “Sheesh, I didn’t even think about that. But you need to take some of your own advice. Don’t make waves because we don’t know who the real killer is.”

  “I know,” I said grimly.

  16

  The next morning, I stopped in at the retirement home to talk to the kitchen staff about the party. When I was done, I checked for Delilah again. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about her until I saw the familiar silver streamers at the front of the Great Room near the window.

  Her face lit up when she saw me. “Hi, Jill. I’m so happy to see you. Have a seat.” She motioned to the seat on the other side of the table. I sat down and put my notebook on the table in front of me and my purse on the ground.

  “I’m glad to see you too. I checked for you yesterday a couple of times while I was here, but you must have been in your room.” I looked at her more closely. Her complexion was wan, although she’d tried to hide it with rouge and pink lipstick. “Are you feeling ok?”

  “Oh, sure.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Good as ever. When you get to be my age, you have your good days and bad days. I was feeling slightly under the weather yesterday, and I had my meals brought in so I could rest.”

  I scrutinized her expression. I hoped she was telling me the truth as I’d become quite fond of her. “Well, if you start feeling poorly, please tell the nurse.”

  “Nurse Fluge?” She looked around. “She’s only been here for the past month and she’s really odd. Always has a sour expression on her face.”

  I laughed. “I’ve noticed. But seriously. Take care of yourself.”

  “I will. Thank you for worrying about me.” She lowered her voice and asked, “Did you find anything out about the matter we discussed?”

  “Yes,” I whispered back. “The police are looking into it. I saw them with Chas Pearson yesterday morning. He seemed upset by their questions and implications. Claimed there was nothing amiss with his father’s finances.”

  She sat back. “Hmm. Well, let me know if you hear anything else.”

  “I will.” She didn’t look well and I didn’t want to tell her that the police appeared to be dropping the investigation after speaking with Chas. “Do you know how the person who conned those men out of their money knew that they were well-off?”

  “If it were me, I’d look in our application forms.”

  “Application forms?” They had to apply to live at Ericksv
ille Heights?

  “Yes. Before we’re offered a room here, there’s paperwork to fill out. One of the things is a list of our savings and investment account balances.” She laughed. “This place isn’t cheap and they want to make sure we’re not going to run out on the bill.”

  “That makes sense.” With everyone who had access to the file cabinets in Alfred’s office, anyone could have found out which residents would make good targets.

  “You look busy,” she said, looking at the laptop sticking out the padded section of my purse.

  “I stopped in here before work to talk to the kitchen staff about the party. Everything is going great with the planning.”

  She grinned. “Wonderful. We could definitely use a pick-me-up around here.”

  Delilah was right though. I did need to get to work. I’d spent so much time on the retirement home’s Christmas party that I was behind on my own work at the Boathouse.

  “I’d better go, but I’ll see you at the party on Sunday, if not before, ok?”

  She nodded. “Have a nice day, dear.” She returned to staring out the window at some birds, which were searching for something in the grass next to the patio.

  17

  I got into my car and drove to the Boathouse, but instead of starting work, I decided to pay Chas Pearson a visit. I had his office’s address on file, so I dashed inside and pulled his address from the system. I also printed off a copy of the invoice for what the Pearson Company owed. Beth had told me that we could write off the amount that they owed, but I figured it would be a good reason for me to visit him at work.

  Chas’s company, Pearson & Associates, was located in a three-story building with large glass windows that spanned each floor from top to bottom. I’d expected to find it in a shared office space, but the company name was the only one on the front door, so it must have been bigger than I’d thought. Then again, I had no clue what exactly Chas’s company did.