Chapter 2 #2
She had just headed back downstairs when a hard knock came on her front door.
Mugs tore out from under her desk at the side of the kitchen, barking like crazy.
Frowning, she opened the door to see a huge older man standing there, glaring at her.
Mugs sniffed his legs through the screen door but then walked back to the kitchen, as if disinterested.
Doreen attempted a smile for the seemingly unhappy man and greeted him. “Hello.”
His gaze narrowed and locked on her face. “I’m looking for a woman named Doreen.”
“Yes,” she replied cautiously, “that’s me.”
His eyebrows shot up. Then he shook his head, looked around, and asked, “Are you sure? Isn’t somebody else here?”
“No, I’m sure nobody else is here,” she stated, staring at him. “This is my house, and you came here, so what is it you want?”
He looked down at the note he held in his hand. “It can’t be you.”
“Why can’t it be me?” she asked in exasperation.
“For one thing, you don’t look old enough, and, for a second thing, you don’t seem as if you could handle this job.”
She straightened her messed-up clothing, pushing wisps of hair off her face, then decided to give it up. “That doesn’t change who I am. Plus, I still don’t know what you’re doing here, but you’re the one who sought me out. So why don’t you just tell me what you want, instead of insulting me.”
He flushed and groaned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, but I was looking for a detective.”
“You found her,” Doreen declared. “Some people call me the amateur detective, and I do a lot of that work, but, if you want to be technically correct, you can call me an amateur sleuth.”
“I did hear you didn’t have any credentials, and that worries me.”
She stared at him and asked, “Do you want to explain what’s going on?”
“Yeah.” Still, he didn’t speak for a long moment. Then with a deep breath, he began, the words tumbling out, “My niece is about to be charged with murder, but I know she didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because it’s not who she is. She wouldn’t.”
“Okay, so presumably she has an alibi or a reason why she’s not involved or something.”
“No, and that’s the problem. She doesn’t have an alibi, and she did see her boyfriend before he was killed.”
“Ah, and that’s the most recent murder we have in town here, I presume?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “It just happened, but I know she didn’t kill him.”
“Okay, and you came to me why?”
“I want you to prove that she’s innocent.”
She winced. “I’m not sure how you expect me to do that. I have limited capacity to act with current cases. Cold cases are altogether different.”
“I heard that too. You have limitations on what you can deal with.”
She studied him. “I’m glad to see that the rumor mill is fairly accurate these days.”
“My niece would never kill anyone because she’s still trying to figure out what happened to her mother.”
“Her mother was murdered?” Doreen asked, frowning at him.
He nodded. “Yes, but it was quite a few years ago now.”
“How many years ago?” she asked, eyeing him carefully.
“At least ten or so, I think.” He looked down at his hands, as if mentally counting his fingers. “Yes, it was ten.”
“And whereabouts did this happen?”
He shrugged. “Alberta.”
“Okay, so when did the family move here?”
“Right afterward, a large portion of the family moved here. One of the family members here had inherited a farm and had employee housing, so there was room for everyone to get settled into a new location. Everybody was pretty fed up with the whole rigamarole that had happened in Alberta, so they came here.”
“And now you’ve been here for ten years.”
“Yes, and we’ve not had a lick of trouble,” he pointed out. “Now, all of sudden, the local cops are looking at my niece.”
“Looking at your niece is one thing, but charging her with murder is something completely different. Do you think her mother’s murder had anything to do with this current murder?”
He frowned at her and shook his head. “I couldn’t imagine how. … That wouldn’t make any sense to me.”
She nodded. “If you want to give me the details, I can talk to the police, see if I can get an idea of what I can work on. I can work on cold cases and can partially look into the current one, if it somehow connects to a cold case.”
“I’m much less worried about something that nobody could solve from ten years ago. I’m trying to confirm my niece doesn’t end up being charged for something she didn’t do in the here and now.”
Doreen invited him inside and noted that Thaddeus remained asleep on his stoop.
Even Goliath didn’t move from under the kitchen table.
So her animals weren’t at all worried about this stranger in their home.
Doreen led her visitor into her kitchen, where she picked up a notepad and began, “Give me the information about your niece and the case of her murdered boyfriend, and I’ll also need your contact information.
Plus, I want a full file on the deceased mother.
” When he glared at her, she tilted her head.
“You may not see that it’s connected, and maybe it’s not, but it could be my ticket to getting access to work on this current case because both murders share a connection to your niece. ”
“I don’t understand what difference it makes.”
She smiled up at him. “It makes a big difference because I’m engaged to be married to the detective on the current murder case,” she shared.
His eyebrows shot up, and he asked, “Is this some marital thing?”
“No, it’s a law thing, but it’s okay. I still need that information from you,” she noted, facing him. “Your contact information and your niece’s contact information.”
He groaned. “I will give you mine, but I won’t share Jillian’s. She’s got enough going on.”
Doreen sighed. “I presume one of you has a decent file on her mother’s murder.”
“Jillian does. She was investigating it. She shouldn’t have been, and I told her to lay off.”
“And yet her boyfriend was killed, but she wasn’t. I heard they were both there together. Interesting.”
“Yes,” he muttered, giving her a death glare. “Why would Jillian have been killed?”
“Let’s start with details on the current case, the murdered boyfriend.”
“He’s a chef. Hang on. … He wasn’t a chef yet.
He’s was … working on becoming a chef,” he clarified, with a wave of his hands.
“He’s a heck of a good cook.” He winced.
“He was a heck of a good cook.” Doreen just nodded and waited.
He groaned and continued. “And there was some dispute at work. I don’t even know what it was all about, but he was killed with a butcher knife. ”
She stared at him for a long moment. “He wasn’t, um, chopping up watermelon or something at the same time, was he?”
He looked at her curiously. “I have no idea,” he replied, staring at her. “Why would you ask that?”
“Never mind.” She gave an airy wave of her hand. “It just occurred to me.”
“Right,” he muttered, frowning at her. “It just occurred to you? How does that work?” He gave her a look, as if she were crazy.
She beamed at him and added, “Don’t worry about it.”
He shook his head. “Look. I’m already worried sick. I need to get somebody who can actually help.”
“Of course you do, and you’re welcome to get somebody else who will. However,” she explained, “I do know an awful lot about murder cases, even though you’re already thinking I’m crazy because I want the information on her mother’s death.”
“Digging into Katie’s murder is a different story,” he pointed out. “I need somebody who can work on this case right now and can get my niece off the hook.”
She studied him. “Getting her off the hook isn’t the same thing as her not being guilty.”
“She’s not guilty,” he roared.
Mugs barked at him, suddenly in between the two of them again.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Getting her off the hook is just a turn of phrase.”
“But it’s a turn of phrase that’s very important,” she stated. “You may think she’s got nothing to do with it but—”
“I don’t even know why she was there so late that day.”
“She works with him?” Doreen asked, surprised.
He nodded. “The two of them look like … siblings.”
She winced and frowned. “And do we know that they aren’t?”
“Why would you even say that?” he asked in horror.
“I’ve seen an awful lot of cases go south because people had no idea what was really going on,” she muttered, writing down as much information as she could. Meanwhile, her mind was going off in a million different directions as she tried to come up with other questions she could ask him.
He continued to glare at her.
She shook her head. “Look. I’m willing to look into this and to see what I can do to help Jillian, but you need to know that, if she’s guilty, I won’t be working to get her off.”
“She’s not guilty,” he declared, then groaned. “I don’t think we should even be having this conversation.”
“Maybe not, but that’s up to you.”
“Will it be a problem if I go to a private investigator?”
“Nope.” Then she mentioned the one she’d worked with in the past. “Talk with Corey and tell him that you’ve spoken to me about it.”
“What difference would that make?”
“He’ll talk to me if we come up with anything,” she shared cheerfully.
“Oh, so you’ll work with him?”
“Sure.”
“Fine then,” he said, giving her a sideways look. “You haven’t talked about money though.”
“No, I haven’t. What’s your name?”
“I am Zev Burgon.”
“Okay, Zev, talk to the private detective, if that’s what you want. I’ll contact you if I come up with anything.”
“And what about … a fee?” he asked, staring at her hesitantly.
She raised her eyebrows. “It would be nice to think I got paid for any of the cases I’ve already solved,” she admitted, “but I haven’t been so far, and I certainly won’t start charging now.”