Murder on the 4th of July Read online

  Chapter 3

  Sheriff Wright, Emma’s father, stepped into the restaurant and flashed his badge. “I’m not a local police officer, but is there anything I can help with?”

  The hostess who’d just screamed shook from head to toe, her eyes wide. Shock. Emma pushed Molly’s leash into Macy’s hand with a nod and took the hostess by the elbow. “You need to sit down. Are you feeling a little faint?”

  Nodding, the woman seemed to pale further in front of Emma’s eyes as she did what Emma requested and sat at the chair to the side of the pay station. Her long, straight blond hair slipped over her shoulders and covered part of her face like a curtain. Emma knelt down, and the woman’s eyes followed her motion. Behind her, both Colby and her father remained standing.

  Emma took hold of the woman’s cold fingers. “Tell us what happened. What’s going on?”

  The woman’s blue eyes looked desperately in the direction she’d come from. “The... the break room. She... she’s dead.”

  That was enough information for Colby to ask the other hostess. “Where is your break room? Take us there. And consider it a crime scene. Don’t let anyone in the room until the police officers from the local precinct get here. Understood.”

  The other hostess had curly red hair and seemed almost as shocked as the one Emma knelt with. While her father and Colby were led to the break room at the back of the restaurant, the silence that had been in the place a moment before filled with chatter. A line formed at the hostess station as many of the patrons got up to leave. A moment later, Colby returned with the red-headed hostess.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask everyone to take a seat. No one will be allowed to leave the restaurant until the police confirm your identity and get your contact information. Unfortunately there’s been a crime committed here today, and we’re going to need everyone’s cooperation if we’re going to find the culprit.”

  More murmurs of dissent filled the air. One man stood, pushing his glasses up his nose and glaring at Colby. “This is outrageous. I have to be back to work in fifteen minutes. I’m a regular here. Everyone knows who I am.”

  The manager of the restaurant, a large man—both tall and wide—came to stand up next to Colby. Although they seemed about the same height, the manager crouched a bit as though cowed by the customer’s disgruntled response. The manager frowned. “I’m sorry, but thank you for your patience. Because of these circumstances, everyone’s lunch today is on the house. We hope that your next experience here will be more pleasant.”

  Emma waved at Macy, who sat outside at the table nearest the back patio door. She seemed to be watching what was going on, holding Molly’s leash. Emma squeezed the hostess’s hands and then met eyes with her. “I’ll be right back.”

  The woman seemed desperate to hold on to Emma as though Emma was a life preserver and the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. Emma had realized before that even strangers could be a source of comfort in times of high stress. When everything in the world seemed to be falling apart, anyone’s calm reassurance helped hold the world together.

  Emma nodded to the girl who seemed to be the same age as her and said, “I promise, I’m not going far and I will only be a moment.”

  Slowly, the hostess nodded and released Emma’s hand.

  Even though she kept an eye on the hostess, Emma strode over to Macy. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard, but there’s been some kind of incident. It appears that someone has died. We’re going to keep things under control until the local police get here. Do you mind keeping an eye on Molly?”

  Molly stood at the sound of her name and wagged her tail. Macy nodded. “I’ll take her for a short walk in the park and come back in about fifteen or twenty minutes and see how everyone is. I know that Molly’s got to be a bit restless considering she’s been lying here like a good girl while we were eating lunch.”

  Relief flooded Emma. “That would be fantastic. Thank you so much.”

  Macy smiled wider, took a tighter hold on the end of the leash and stood. “No problem.”

  After spending a moment watching Macy leave with Molly out the back gate of the patio, Emma took a quick look around. Two of the other tables on the patio had been occupied when the incident with the screaming hostess had happened earlier, now, none of the tables were. Emma frowned. That meant that some of the potential witnesses or culprits had already fled the scene. She peered back inside the building and wondered how many more had left before the body had even been discovered. This wasn’t the best way to keep a crime scene intact. She hoped that there would still be enough evidence to catch the culprit in this situation.

  The blond hostess’s blue eyes followed Emma as she came back inside the restaurant. Emma returned to the chair next to the hostess and took the woman’s cold hands back into hers once more. The redheaded hostess frowned as she stepped up to Colby, a cordless phone in her hands. “I’m afraid that the 84th precinct just called back. They said an officer is on the way, but it might be another half an hour.”

  With a frown, Colby nodded toward the phone. “Let me speak to the dispatcher a moment.”

  The hostess handed Colby the phone, and he stepped to the side to speak into it quietly. Even though Emma couldn’t hear more than snippets of the conversation, she got the gist of what was going on. Colby had the dispatcher patch him in to talk to the officer who was on the way. After filling the officer in on the situation, they made a plan of action. Then Colby hung up the phone, typed some things into his own cell phone and handed the cordless phone back to the hostess.

  Colby stood for a moment, surveying the crowd. “If you are a regular at this restaurant and paying with a credit card, I will take your contact information, ask you a few simple questions, and then you are free to go. Those of you who are not in this category will have to wait until the officer from the 84th precinct arrives for him to check your contact information with the police department before letting you go.”

  Then Colby had those who felt they were allowed to leave step to the side and get in line. The redheaded hostess had to confirm whether each person was, indeed, a regular and that they had the same credit card information due to previous purchases.

  “I... I can’t believe Susan is dead,” the hostess next to Emma whispered. “She was supposed to cover my shift tomorrow.”

  At first, a bit of anger flared up inside Emma as she heard those words. It seemed that the blond hostess was heartless and only cared about how Susan’s death affected her. But in psychology class, Emma learned that people often say ridiculous things when under duress. The undue stress that the whole incident caused this woman would have her cut out some of the horror of what was happening and fill in the empty spots with minor inconveniences instead. It made the shock come down for her. Emma understood that, and squeezed the woman’s hand. “What’s your name?” Emma asked her.

  The woman met eyes with Emma again. “Kayla.”

  “Have you been working here long?”

  Kayla nodded. “About two years. It pays well, and I like the other girls I work with.”

  “You liked Susan, then?” Emma asked.

  “Susan was the best at everything she did. She could cover for any waitress, hostess, or bartender, and often did in the restaurant. She didn’t mind working. Sometimes, she’d get a little grumpy at people who didn’t do their job and knew better, but she was patient with people she trained. She trained me.” Kayla’s gaze fixed out the window and toward the river where light played on the waves. It had to have had a calming effect on her.

  Emma nodded. “Was there anyone Susan didn’t get along with?”

  Slowly, Kayla shook her head. “Usually, Susan got along with just about everyone. Lately, though, she and the owner/manager were getting into little tiffs. She was leaving the restaurant, and he’s not happy about that, but that wouldn’t be a reason to kill her.”

  The manager stood next to the redheaded hostess and Colby as they we
re allowing some of the customers to leave after a short questioning session. The man chewed his bottom lip nervously and seemed to be doing something different with his left hand. His thumb was tucked into his hand and his fingers were moving. Maybe playing an instrument? Emma knew that many people found ways to cope with repetitive behavior. Sometimes doing things like playing an instrument with the mind would make the difference. Emma nodded toward the man. “What’s the manager’s name?”

  Kayla’s gaze followed where Emma had indicated. “Ralph North. He’s a good guy, gentle. His wife is a bit of a tyrant, but luckily she doesn’t come into the restaurant much.”

  “Do you know how long he’s been here?” Emma fished for an objective answer if she could get one.

  Kayla chuckled a bit maddeningly. “He’s the owner. I think he’s been here for almost ten years.”

  Emma swallowed hard, finally figuring out what the owner had been doing with his fingers. He hadn’t been playing an instrument at all. He’d been using his thumb to play with the ring finger on his left hand, the way that married people often did when they were spinning their wedding ring nervously. Only Ralph North didn’t have a wedding ring on.

  Chapter 4

  While Emma was still fixated on the man standing by the door, her father approached her with a frown. He knelt down in front of Kayla and her, just as Emma had done earlier. It was a posture that was both less intimidating to a frightened witness as well as a submissive posture that helped in building the person’s trust. He met eyes with Kayla. “I’m Sheriff Wright, and for now, I’m investigating this incident until the local police arrive. Your name is?”

  “Kayla,” she answered. “Kayla Brown.”

  He nodded and offered a soft smile. ”If you feel up to it now, can you tell me exactly what happened? What you were doing and what you saw when you first went into the break room?”

  The color that had been returning to Kayla’s cheeks fled as she paled once more. “I was rushing to the bathroom. I really needed to pee, but I needed to get... something... from the break room, too.”

  “What was the something?” Emma’s father asked.

  Kayla met eyes with Emma, her brow furrowed with worry. Then she returned her gaze to the sheriff. “A feminine hygiene product.”

  Her father nodded knowingly. “Actually, you’ve already met Emma, here. She’s my daughter. I raised her by myself and often had to go to the store and get those products when she was younger.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Emma smiled as her eyes darted around to see if anyone else was listening to the conversation. She met eyes with Mr. North who was peering their way and still fidgeting with his left hand.

  Her father winked at her and then returned his focus to Kayla. “What happened when you opened the break room door?”

  Her eyes grew glassy as she stared into space, no doubt picturing what she’d found earlier. “I pushed the door open and saw Susan’s body on the floor.” She swallowed hard. “At first I thought she’d just fallen, and I went over to help her up. Then I saw she wasn’t moving. And when I asked her if she was okay, she wasn’t answering. I touched her...”

  She trailed off for a moment, her eyes filling with tears as she met Emma’s gaze again. “Her eyes were open, and I saw the red marks around her neck. She wasn’t cold or stiff like they say in the movies. She just wasn’t there anymore.”

  Emma squeezed Kayla’s hands. “She must have just died. It’s a horrible thing. Is there any chance you saw anyone else in the break room at all? Or coming out of the break room on your way there. If she had just died, then maybe you had seen the murderer?”

  Kayla shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks and retracing the tracks of her earlier ones. “There was no one in the hallway when I walked down that way. I didn’t see anyone in the break room, but it wasn’t like I checked the closet or lockers or anything. I just saw Susan and then I left to get help.”

  Emma nodded and met gazes with her father. He nodded at her, too. “Emma, would you mind coming with me for a moment?”

  Kayla’s eyes became wide and panicked. “What about me? What should I do?”

  Slowly, the sheriff stood and then he patted her on the shoulder and met gazes with Emma. “Wait here, both of you. I’ll be right back.”

  He strode over toward where Colby, the redheaded hostess, and Ralph North stood. After speaking with them all for a moment, he returned with the redheaded hostess. “Donna will keep you company for a bit, Kayla, while I take Emma away. We’ll both be back after a short while.”

  Emma stood.

  Slowly, Kayla nodded as Donna took the seat that Emma had been occupying. Even though Donna was much calmer than Kayla, she seemed to be in shock about the whole issue as well. If they all knew and respected Susan, that made sense.

  Emma’s father led her toward the back hallway and the break room. “I know you’ve been asking the witness some questions, Emma, so tell me what you’ve learned.”

  “The victim was well liked by everyone and didn’t seem to have any enemies,” Emma said as her father opened the break room doorway. They both surveyed the scene. The body of the blond woman who’d been so full of life earlier as she’d waited on them made Emma’s stomach twist. Life was so much more fragile than most people realized. And no one could have predicted that this was going to happen, except, perhaps the perpetrator. “However, before you and Colby arrived for lunch, Macy and I saw the victim arguing with the owner/manager, Ralph North. According to Kayla, they had been in conflict the past few days because Susan is leaving the restaurant after founding employment elsewhere.”

  “So our primary suspect right now is the owner/manager,” the sheriff said as he knelt next to the body. He pulled a pen out of his chest pocket and pointed toward the red marks on the woman’s neck. “These ligature marks appear to be from a very thin rope or a wire. I’ve been fishing around the room, touching as little as possible, but I don’t see the weapon. It’s possible that the perpetrator took it with him or her.”

  Emma nodded. “If this was a crime of passion, anyone could be the perpetrator. But if Mr. North and she have already been in the midst of arguing over her leaving the job, it’s even more possible that she would make him angry enough to grab a weapon of opportunity.”

  “Right. The only other thing I saw is this here.” He pointed with his pen at a small scrap of green paper on the ground next to the body, right near the victim’s neck. “It has a number on it, but it’s been ripped. It looks like a three.”

  Emma frowned. “It looks familiar.”

  “Right,” her father said as he stood, replacing his pen in his pocket. “It does to me, too, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen that sort of paper scrap before.”

  Emma racked her brain as she looked around the room. Crime of passion. Weapon of opportunity. What could the perpetrator have grabbed that was nearby, small enough and thin enough to cause the ligature marks on the victim’s throat. And then there was the small square of green paper. It was the same texture as the construction paper used by elementary school children. But the number printed on it was professionally done, perhaps even by a factory. Emma walked to the other side of the victim’s body, near the woman’s feet.

  “If the victim stood here, chances were that she and the perpetrator had an argument. Then when the victim turned around to leave the room, the perpetrator grabbed the weapon of opportunity and strangled her with it from behind. So if the victim stood here and the perpetrator stood about here...” Emma peered to the right and saw nothing near the window that had the shade pulled down. Nothing seemed out of place. Then she peered to the left and found several open lockers and others that were closed and had hasps on them. The locker nearest her had a clear plastic bag sitting on the floor of the locker. When she looked up she found more plastic, covering the dry cleaning that sat on simple wire hangers. Her eyes went wide and she darted her gaze toward the father. “I know what the murder weapon was.”

  C
hapter 5

  Emma’s father frowned and then stepped her way, peering into the same locker she’d been looking into. He snapped his fingers and nodded. “That paper. It’s the same as the tickets that dry cleaners often attach to clothing to tell workers which kind of cleaner to use and whether to steam the item or not.”

  “Right,” Emma said and pointed to the empty plastic bag on the bottom of the locker. “The perpetrator pulled a wire hanger out of this bag and choked the victim with it. Now, it would take a great deal of strength to bend the hanger in that fashion and hold it on the victim’s neck while she struggled for the full thirty seconds until the victim passed out. This leads me to believe that the perpetrator had to be bigger than the victim.”

  The sheriff’s eyes went wide as he nodded. “I see what you’re saying. It might have been easier for a smaller person to have used the plastic bag itself over the victim’s face and suffocate her that way instead of using the wire hanger. It would have been difficult and taken some strength to bend it around the victim’s neck and keep it tight enough before she passed out.”

  “Even though this is a crime of passion,” Emma said, “The perpetrator had to have wanted the victim dead. They had to hold onto that wire for nearly two full minutes before the victim would have died. He or she would have had to have had second thoughts about whether to keep holding on until she was dead.”

  “And anyone could have walked in at any minute.” Her father’s gaze darted toward the doorway.

  “Exactly.” Emma nodded following her father’s gaze. “I think we need to question Mr. North. And we need to find the murder weapon.”

  “Right. I’m going to take Mr. North into his office for questioning privately with Colby, once they are done getting contact information. Will you check the trash cans and any other hiding places that might have the bent up wire hanger? If we don’t find the murder weapon or get a confession, it’s going to be much harder to convict any suspect of this heinous act.”