Read Murder Is Elementary Online
Authors: Diane Weiner
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths
Chapter 58
Carolina walked into her kitchen. She still expected to see her mom in there cutting up salad vegetables or stirring sauce on the stove. She wondered if that would ever stop. She couldn’t believe they still hadn’t found her Mom’s killer.
“I bought some canned foods and extra batteries,” said Araceli. “Also, more Cheerios and shelf stable soy milk. We probably won’t get the blizzard. You know they always hype up these storms and most of the time, thankfully, they never come. Anyway, we’re prepared.”
“Thanks, Araceli. Becky is coming by in a little while with my paper. She finished it more quickly than I expected. I can’t wait to turn it in and have it off of my mind.’’
“I’ll be upstairs watching TV if you need me.” Araceli carried a basket of clean laundry upstairs with her. Carolina sat at the table and began texting her friends. Then she plugged her phone into the charger so it would be fully charged in the event they lost electricity. She couldn’t imagine what people did during electrical outages before the days of cell phones. At least she’d be able to stay in touch with her friends, listen to music, and play games if the electricity went out. A short time later Becky arrived.
“It’s starting to look bad out there. I wanted to get this to you now in case the roads get impassable. It’s a hard copy in case you can’t access your computer during the storm,” said Becky.
“Thank you. I’m excited to see it,” said Carolina. She and Becky sat down at the dining room table. While Carolina was reading the paper, the lights blinked on and off. “Oh no, I hope the electric holds up.” Carolina continued reading. “Not again.” This time the electric stayed off. She could barely see.
“I’ll go get the flashlight from the toolbox,” said Becky. She groped her way to the sliding door and started to open it. She realized her mistake immediately.
“How would you know about the flashlight, or the toolbox?” asked Carolina. Her fight or flight hormones were kicking in. She started to bolt for the door but Becky grabbed her arm.
“It’s not what you think,” said Becky.
“Let me go. I’m calling the police right now.” Carolina felt around for her phone, then remembered it was on the charger.
“Carolina, no. You don’t understand,” said Becky.
“I understand. You’re the one who’s been snooping around my house these past few weeks. What do you want anyway? We don’t keep cash in the house.”
“Carolina, I’m your Aunt Becky.”
“What?” Carolina was completely puzzled.
“I’m your mom’s younger sister. Your mom and I were in the middle of a horrible feud over our mom’s, actually your Grandma Rosie’s, gem collection. She was suing me and I was suing her back but I couldn’t stand the relationship being so strained. I moved here at the end of last summer and tried to patch things up with Vicky, but she refused to see me. Then I thought, maybe I’ll just give her half of the collection but I knew our mom must have had a good reason for keeping it from Vicky. I decided to find out what my big sister was really like. I hate to admit it, but I spied on her, followed her to see what kind of life she led.”
“Did you kill my mom?” asked Carolina. Her hands were sweating.
“Of course not. I was as surprised as anyone when she wound up dead. Someone must have been very angry at her. I wondered what evil Vicky had done and I wondered if you were following in her footsteps. That’s when I decided to follow you and see what you were all about.”
“So it was you who snooped around the house. You were inside the house the night I came in with Mrs. W.”
“Yes, I’m sorry I scared you,” said Becky. “I was too embarrassed to face you that night. You do need to make sure you latch that storm door out on the porch and lock your windows for heaven’s sake.”
“We’ve been looking for you and here you were right under our noses,” said Carolina. “We were trying to find a relative to come stay here until my Dad got out of rehab. The Department of Children and Families was threatening to put me in a temporary foster home.”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known I would have come forward. There was an email from someone claiming to be a police officer but I assumed it was a prank.”
“Well, you’re here now.” Carolina’s pulse was just about back to normal.
“Of course, I’ll stay here while your dad is gone. I want to have a relationship with you and your dad. I also came to a big decision.”
“What kind of decision?” asked Carolina.
“I sold the gem collection for a lot of money. I kept a few special ones. I had a sapphire necklace made for you. It’s your birthstone, right?”
“Yes. Thank you,” said Carolina.
“I’ve already set up a college fund for you and I had my financial advisor invest the rest of your share in a trust fund that you can access after you turn 21.”
“Are you kidding?” said Carolina.
“It was the right thing to do. You’re a good person, Carolina, and you have some wonderful goals in life. More importantly, we’re family. You’re my only niece. If Grandma Rosie had known that she would have done the same. She just didn’t trust Vicky with money.”
“I can’t believe this. I’m so glad you’re here,” said Carolina.
“Me too,” replied Becky.
Chapter 59
It was a good night for scrapbooking
, thought Susan. Mike was working late and the snow falling outside made the house seem extra cozy. Susan pulled out the envelope of pictures she’d snuck out of Carolina’s house. She had gotten a brilliant idea. She would make a scrapbook of Vicky’s life for Carolina. She had recent pictures of Vicky from school and Carolina had practically handed these to her on a silver platter the day she went over to her house to look for clues. She cut the border of a snapshot with her funny jagged scissors and glued it onto the scrapbook page, then searched for her next addition.
Here’s the one of Vicky’s best friend and her son,
she thought. Something bothered her about that picture. What was it? Suddenly the apron with the dog bone appliqué screamed at her from the photo. Now she remembered why Jody’s apron looked familiar. She wondered how it was possible that Kara and Jody would have the same quirky apron. Then she focused on the boy in the picture. He would have been around Jody’s age. Jody did come from upstate. Maybe she and the boy had been friends or maybe they’d gone to school together. The boy was strange looking, kind of like a tortured soul. Jody seemed to gravitate toward those kinds of kids. She was always trying to help them. She peeked outside. It wasn’t snowing all that hard. Curiosity got the better of her. She tried calling Jody but it went to voice mail.
I’ll just have to drop by her apartment,
she decided. She’d gone over there to return the pie dish and it wasn’t very far.
There had to be a logical explanation. Kara and Vicky had been living in the same town after college according to Carolina. She pulled on her boots and scraped the snow off the windshield of her car.
Oh my God,
thought Susan. Maybe that boy was
baby boy
from Vicky’s contact list. What if Jody found out that her friend was being abused by Vicky.
I know Jody would have tried to intervene
, thought Susan. It was snowing a bit harder now but Jody didn’t live far. Susan had to drive slowly but she made it safely to Jody’s apartment. She knocked on Jody’s door.
“Susan, I’m surprised to see you here.” Jody was wearing well-worn sweats and had her hair pulled into a ponytail.
“I tried to call but your phone went to voicemail,” said Susan.
“I must have forgotten to turn the sound back on. Come sit down. What can I do for you?” asked Jody.
“I know this seems silly and that I must have too much time on my hands, but remember the apron you were wearing for the teacher appreciation luncheon?”
“Yes. What about it?” said Jody.
“It’s so unusual. I mean, I’ve never been in a store and seen an apron with a dog bone appliqué. It looks like it was hand sewn.”
“And…what is it you want to ask? It belongs to my mom. She left it when she came to visit last month,” said Jody.
“Your mom lives in Ithaca, right?” asked Susan.
“Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well,” said Susan. “I was at Carolina’s one day and we were looking at photos of her mom. I took some of them to turn into a scrapbook for her. Anyhow, there was a photo of her mom’s best friend Kara. Kara was wearing that apron. I noticed because I’d seen an episode of the
Martha Stewart Show
where they showed how to personalize clothing with appliqué. I was exploring sewing as a hobby but even with my bifocals it was impossible to thread a needle. Caused more stress than it was worth. I just couldn’t figure out why you had the apron. Did you know Kara? You both lived in Ithaca and you had the exact same apron.” Right on cue the power flickered and the house became dark.
“Here. I’ll light these candles,” said Jody. “No, I never knew anyone named Kara.”
“Are you sure? Did your Mom know her?” asked Susan.
“I said no. Can I get you some hot chocolate? You must have been freezing outside.”
“That would be nice,” said Susan.
“Good thing I have a gas stove,” said Jody. She grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer.
“Are you sure you didn’t know Kara? Something about that apron keeps nagging at me,” said Susan.
“Why do you keep pushing me on this? It’s just an apron. It’s just a coincidence. Here, have some hot chocolate.” Jody handed the mug to Susan. Susan noted a hint of annoyance in Jody’s voice. The ring tone of her phone startled both of them. Susan saw that it was Lynette and figured it might be important.
“Hi, honey. Um, yes that’s right. I’m all snuggled up at home just working on my scrapbook. It’s nice of you to check up on me. Yes, Dad’s still at work. Are you home? What? You found a match to the prints on the Epi-pen? Whose prints are they? Do they belong to someone we know? Okay, finish up and get yourself home. I’ll call you later.”
“Was that your daughter?” asked Jody.
“Yes. Great news. They found a match to the prints on the Epi-pen they found in the parking lot. My daughter and her partner are on their way to make an arrest.”
“That’s great,” said Jody. Did she tell you who the murderer is?”
“No. Lynette can be a stickler for rules. She can’t tell me anything until after they make the arrest. There was a young boy in the photo,” said Susan. Maybe you knew him?”
“I told you to let it go,” said Jody.” I’m beginning to lose patience. Maybe you should leave before the storm gets worse.”
“It’s weird,” continued Susan, without missing a beat. “A dog bone appliqué. It couldn’t be a coincidence. You have to have some connection with Vicky’s friend Kara. Maybe you knew the boy in the picture.”
“I said DROP IT.” Jody’s voice was loud and abrasive.
Susan had never heard Jody speak in the tone of voice she was using. Now Susan was confused. Something strange was going on here.
“You did know him, didn’t you?” said Susan.
“Leave this alone. You’re butting into something that doesn’t involve you,” said Jody. Susan detected sweat on Jody’s brow. She couldn’t imagine why since it was freezing in the house. Susan noticed that Jody was breathing harder now too.
“I’m thinking that maybe you two were friends. Maybe you were trying to protect the boy. Were you protecting him from Vicky? Was she doing things with him that she shouldn’t have been doing?” asked Susan. Suddenly Jody grabbed her car keys and bolted out the door to the driveway. Susan followed closely behind her.
“Damn,” said Jody. “You parked behind me. Move your car right now!”
Susan was sure that she was close to getting the truth out of Jody. Otherwise, why would Jody go off the deep end like this?
“Jody, calm down. Tell me what happened. Were you trying to protect your friend from Vicky? Did you hurt Vicky? I know how crazy you get when you think a child’s in harm’s way.”
“Give me your keys right now,” said Jody.
“No.” said Susan. “You can’t drive in this state of mind and the roads are slippery to boot. Let’s talk about this.”
Jody grabbed Susan and reached into Susan’s pocket for her keys. Susan held on with a death grip. Jody was undoing Susan’s grip, finger by finger but before she could get possession of the keys, Susan flung them across the yard. She guessed those tricep exercises must really be working because she threw them far enough that they couldn’t be found under the swiftly falling snow.
“Why did you do that? Now we’re both trapped here,” said Jody. She reluctantly went back into the house. Susan followed.
“You knew him, right?” said Susan. You somehow wound up in the same school as Vicky all these years later and you killed her to protect your friend. That’s why you had left over funfetti frosting to use on those sugar cookies. It was left over from the poison cupcake you made for Vicky. Was Vicky still harassing your friend? Was he the one who Vicky listed as
baby boy
on her contact list? Lynette’s on her way. You might as well get the story off your chest.”
“
Knew him
?” said Jody. “I
was
him. It should never have been a boy in that picture. It should have been a girl. It was a girl, only packaged in a boy’s body.”
Susan was really confused now. Jody’s eyes pierced the dark room.
“I told my mom I was a girl. I knew all my life. She tried to force me to do boy things like football and skateboarding. She didn’t know what to do with me. When I put on one of her dresses one day and said I was going to wear it to school, she flipped out and called her best friend––Vicky Rogers. She trusted Vicky. Vicky was a teacher back then. She was around kids all the time and she had a degree in education. Mom trusted her. After my dad died, she went to Vicky all the time for advice. She asked Vicky what she should do about me.”
“And what did Vicky tell her?” asked Susan.
“She told her about this camp she knew about. It was a place where they changed behaviors. The church ran it. Mom assumed I was gay. She had no understanding whatsoever about what it meant to be transgender. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what it meant either. I only began to understand myself years later.”
“What happened at the camp?” asked Susan.
“Well, first of all they preached the bible day and night. They told me I was going to go to hell if I didn’t change my behavior. Then they tried to ‘pray away the gay.’ We would meet in a group outside in a huge tent. There was fire inside––lots of burning coals. It felt like a sauna. It must have been 120 degrees in there. They would pray over us for hours and hours. We weren’t allowed to eat or drink. The tent door was zipped and one of the counselors stood guard. I was terrified that it would catch on fire. It’s a miracle it didn’t. A few of the children passed out from the heat.”
“Oh, Jody, that must have been horrible,” said Susan.
“It was. They berated us, even physically beat us. I couldn’t believe my mom had put me in such a place. I called her one night. I had to sneak out and use the payphone at the gas station down the road. I begged her to come get me. She said she would but she didn’t. I called her back the following night. She said she’d called Vicky and Vicky told her it was for my own good––that she had no choice but to leave me there so I could heal.”
“You must have hated your mom and Vicky too,” said Susan. “I don’t blame you.”
“The word
hate
is such an understatement. I vowed I’d get revenge, even if it took the rest of my life,” said Jody.
“Then you killed Vicky?” asked Susan.
“After I got out of the camp, I went into a severe depression. I even tried to commit suicide but my mom found me before it was too late and called an ambulance. They pumped my stomach at the hospital. It was touch and go for a few days but I survived. They transferred me to the psychiatric ward and diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. Mom was elated that the doctors had figured out my problem. That’s all she wanted, was a nice simple explanation for my behavior. She thought that was the end of my insisting I was really a girl trapped in a boy’s body.”
“You must have been so confused and upset.”
“I had a very long road ahead of me. First, they had to keep adjusting the meds. One day I couldn’t get out of bed. They adjusted my dose and then I couldn’t get to sleep. I lost weight because I couldn’t eat, then I gained weight when they changed to a different pill. The worst thing was that the real problem was being buried. I still couldn’t make anyone understand that I really wasn’t a boy. Vicky was right there at my mother’s side telling her how I just needed to stop trying to get attention.”
“I’m so sorry, Jody.”
“The minute I turned 18, I left home for good. I didn’t speak to my mother for many years after that. I was on a roller coaster throughout my teen years. I can’t believe I actually graduated high school on time and with a scholarship to boot. Oh, I wasn’t headed for Harvard or anything. It was a scholarship to attend community college but I saw it as a chance to break free. I knew I wanted to find a career in which I could help people––specifically children.”
“And you did just that. You’ve helped so many children just in this short time you’ve been at Westbrook. And you were even helping Carolina even though she is Vicky’s daughter. That wasn’t in your job description,” said Susan.
“I can’t resist helping a child in need. It’s not Carolina’s fault that her mom was a good for nothing bitch. Anyhow, to continue my story, while I was in college I found a support group for gay, lesbian, and transgender students. Seeing that announcement on the library bulletin board saved my life. I understood for the first time that there was nothing wrong with me. I got the support I needed to learn to love myself and to take steps toward leading the life I was meant to live.”
“Did you get back in touch with your mother? I understand support groups often help repair families,” said Susan.
“I wrote her a long letter explaining the process I was going through. Vicky was still interfering, I knew. Eventually Mom did accept me as a daughter. We’ve been redefining our relationship these past few years. She even said she was proud of me for going into social work. That I didn’t expect,” said Jody.
“So what happened with Vicky? Did you get your revenge?” asked Susan.
“Oh yes. I plotted my course very carefully and patiently. I knew she’d become principal of Westbrook. For several years I kept my eye on the job openings there and last year––
Bingo
. I applied for the social worker position and I got it. Even the job description mentioned that Westbrook was a peanut-free magnet school. A peanut-free magnet school? How crazy was that? When I interviewed for the position, Vicky explained that she herself was deathly allergic to peanuts. I filed that piece of information away.”
“Are you saying it was you who killed her?” asked Susan.
“That woman was dangerous. She nearly ruined my life and then she was even recommending behavior boot camps to some parents at our school. She had to be stopped,” said Jody.
“What did you do?” Susan swallowed hard. She was having a difficult time digesting all of this information.
“I didn’t have the guts to just walk up to Vicky with a gun and shoot her, not that I own a gun. I’m not a violent person. When the PTA announced the bake sale they were doing during the holiday concert, the idea came to me. I would bake a cupcake especially for Vicky. She would assume it was from the bake sale and therefore hypoallergenic.”