Schooled in Murder

  Schooled in Murder

  by

  Kim Smith

  Schooled in Murder

  Copyright © Kim Smith, 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book would not be possible without thanking a whole bunch of people. Thanks to Sarah Jacobs for her excellent editing advice, and being a wonderful teacher. You are nothing like my depiction in this book.

  Thanks to Sam Jacobs for his insight on cover art. You are the best graphic artist in the universe, and I mean that most sincerely. You can draw anything and make it look real.

  Thanks to Allan Smith for just being there. Writing is a lonely life sometimes, and you are always my rock when I need to have something else to do.

  Thanks to my writing group, the Authors Unplugged women of wonder.

  You all know I love you.

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to other writers out there who strive to turn out their first, second, or third book. You know – it’s a hard thing. But it can totally be done. You can do this!

  Fear, like beauty, is only in the eye of the beholder. You are the fear. —Kim Smith

  Chapter One

  The fear of poverty sat on me like a screaming black cat digging its claws into my guts. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  I was a college graduate. I had a degree in English.

  I should have been a teacher with a retirement account slowly building itself a future. But God has a sense of humor and none of that had happened. If a boatload of green didn’t arrive on the horizon pretty soon none of my meager accomplishments would be of any consequence. I would be living back at home with my aunties. And thanks to the current economy where everyone was looking for jobs—flinging hamburgers didn’t look very promising.

  My aunties, Tillie and Nancy, had been giving me money and food ever since my boyfriend/boss had been murdered a few months back. Might be they felt sorry for me but more likely they just loved me and wanted me to eat, drink, and be merry. Problem was, I kept finding myself situated where dead bodies turned up and people close to me were affected. I need a life, seriously.

  My lawyer friend from college, James “Jimmy” Adams, and I were seated at the House of Q consuming unhealthy portions of hot pit barbeque slathered in coleslaw and Tabasco while plotting a possible job for Video Angels and thereby, for me.

  Well, he was plotting. I was too unnerved to say much.

  “It’s just to cement their testimony and won’t take very long,” Jimmy said. “I finally got the court to agree to a filmed copy of the contents of their house. I know you like that stuff these days, so that’s why I called you.”

  “Well, yeah, but dang, Jimmy, it’s Miss Lunsford. She taught me in high school. It’d be like pillaging her desk to snoop for the grade book.”

  He licked sauce off his fingertips. “It’s actually Mrs. Denaldo since she got married, hence why I need your services. They’re getting divorced. I need some way to exhibit all of their stuff before one of them ditches something of value. My thought was to tape the contents of the house.”

  I wiped at drops of baked bean juice in front of my plate and thought about it. “Don’t they have to fill out forms or something declaring their ownership of stuff so the court can decide who gets what?”

  “Are you talking about interrogatories? Sure. But if a form paints a thousand words, a video’ll paint a million, right?”

  “Now I know why Dwayne handed the phone to me when you called. This wouldn’t be a job for him. He can’t stand seeing other people’s stuff all jumbled up and mismatched. If you were to let him inside someone’s closet, he’d be spouting tidbits from one of those fashion shows he watches, and believe me, it wouldn’t be pretty. I guess that means the old bat’s dilemma sits in my lap.”

  I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but my issues with Mrs. Thelma Lunsford Denaldo surfaced like a smelly, dead fish. She never liked me much while I was in school and since leaving those hallowed halls, I’d returned the favor. She ranked at the top of my least liked list.

  “Hey! Don’t be disrespectful. She’s been a teacher in this community for at least twenty years,” he said.

  “And she remembers each one of us and all our youthful mistakes from every year she’s taught. In tenth grade, she caught me passing notes to Katie Henderson, my best friend, and made me answer for it by forcing me to read it aloud in front of the entire class.”

  He made a face like he had swallowed vinegar.

  I continued. “My reputation as Shannon Wallace, last known high school virgin, had been somewhat sullied after that incident. She even reminded me of my shortcomings two years later as I walked across the stage in the gym to accept my diploma.”

  “I see,” he said with a shrug. “Well, it’s a thought. If you want to make some quick money—”

  “Why are they divorcing?” I interrupted. “Seems to me a pillar of society like her would be an unlikely candidate for irreconcilable differences. Cruelty, maybe.”

  “No, not irreconcilable differences. Not cruelty either. Try adultery.”

  “What? You’re kidding!”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Something about making a video that ended up in her husband’s possession. But other than that, I can’t tell you anymore. Let your imagination run the gamut, you’d be right in the end.”

  “Welcome to the digital age, huh?” I tapped my front tooth with my index finger and thought about what he’d said. Had she kept a hidden camera going while she played stuff the sausage with her lover? More than likely, her husband was a better snoop than she thought. He might have placed hidden cameras around their house. I bet she never knew she’d played into his plan.

  The world of videography had come to me via a similar avenue, and I worried endlessly my faux pas in the home movie industry would announce itself in mainstream South Lake life. Even the idea someone might innocently discover I had done such a thing made my stomach hurt.

  Now, the one person in this two-dog town who could reduce me to a quaking, shivering mass of slobber had fallen victim to something similar. I tried to sound nonchalant. “Sexy videos, huh? Maybe they were fakes? You can do a lot with video editing these days.”

  “I don’t know and don’t really want to know. Suffice it to say, she was caught from every angle thanks to fancy video work. Although I bet you’re more of an authority on that than me, eh? Maybe I’ll use you in court as a professional analyzer. At any rate, I’m working for her estranged and unhappy hubby. He’s convinced she’s guilty as charged.”

  I shoved my Styrofoam plate away and dug in my tote bag for a small container of Tums. The thought of being on a witness stand discussing the technical aspects of videography when it surrounds bedroom activities gave me instant indigestion. I placed the tablet on my tongue and let it dissolve a moment before chewing. Some fruity flavor that they wanted us to think was cherry. It wasn’t even close

  “No, thanks,” I replied around the chalky tablet. “I don’t want to be in a court of law ever, and especially not on the opposite side of her.”

  Jimmy slurped sweet tea, rubbed his barbeque stained hands on a moist paper towel, and sat back with a satisfied sigh, oblivious to my discomfiture. “Suit yourself,” he said. “I’m just doing my job and thinking of ways to do it best. Speaking of jobs, what about my offer to film the house?”

  I glanced at him and gave it some thought. My lack of funds at the moment certainly clouded better judgment, but what else could I do? I had to have money, and he was willing to pay me.

  “How much?”

  “Two grand.”

 
“Two grand? For shooting household items?” My voice rose as the insanity of his offer hit me. “Whoa. Adams, Butler, and Cook must be doing well to be able to hand out cash in that size.”

  He shrugged a bit too innocently for my taste. His firm touted themselves as the A, B, C of attorneys and handled all manner of cases. Even ones like this where a couple was out to get everything they could by digging in and hurting as much as possible. It made the law firm seem on the low-life side, but who was keeping score?

  “Sure could use the money,” I added, chewing another of the chalky antacid tablets. “Dwayne would be totally happy.”

  “Well, I’ll just tell you, if our poor old teacher-lady hopes to get any alimony or other spousal support out of Mr. Denaldo, she’d better think of some new ways to say “please”. He intends to get the whole tamale and cut her out of everything if she so much as blinks. She’d be a fool to refuse to allow you to come in with a camera.”

  I straightened the napkins lying on the plastic-topped table. “What would I have to do exactly?”

  His smile said he smelled victory. “First off, you would need to go over and talk to her, tell her what you do, get her comfortable. And while you’re there, get her to sign these forms giving you permission to do the shoot.” He reached down, pulled papers out of his brown briefcase, and waved them at me. “All you need to know about the case is right here.”

  “Why can’t you go over and do this? I’m totally against doing it. I mean, what might happen when my old teacher and I meet again? My reputation in South Lake society would be at stake if I make her mad. And being a party of the second part to her husband’s lawyer and their plan to strip her of everything would certainly not make her happy.”

  “Um. I think her reputation is more at stake than yours, and I can’t do it. I have court.” He grinned and shoved the papers across the table toward me. “Your check for two thousand dollars is just waiting to be written out by the way. Get the job done and the money is yours.”

  “Talk about presumption! You already knew I’d do this?” I gaped at the neatly typed pages and thought about a check made out to Video Angels.

  Damn.

  Two thousand dollars was a wealth of money. There was a lot of wiggle room if we plunked two thousand dollars in the Video Angels’s bank account.

  “You can do this, Shannon,” he added, “All you have to do is to get friendly with her before you film her worldly goods.”

  Friendly? Whatever!

  I stood, snatched the papers up, and flipped my tote off the back of my chair with the flick of my index finger. “Fine. But just so you know, no matter what else happens, I tried to get out of this. It’s on your head if I’m ruined because of it.”

  He was still frowning at that as I flounced out of the barbeque place to face the suffocating June heat.

  ###

  With the broiling sun on my back, the ten steps up to the front of Video Angels felt like a hundred. Dwayne looked up from his desk. He’d been holding down the fort while I bandied about town, conspiring and perspiring.

  Dwayne Brown is my friend, business partner, and oftentimes, avenging angel. He knows a lot of my secrets, and he still lets me hang out with him. We started Video Angels together after receiving video equipment for a steal thanks to a murdering douchebag named Levi Green. He’d tried to kill me. I returned the favor. Now Dee and I made a living from his former bounty. Although right now, the living we were making was more like barely getting by.

  I dumped a white bag, shiny with grease spots, onto his uncluttered desk. “Jumbo ‘que, extra sauce, Tabasco on the side, fries, slaw, and beans. Just like you like it.”

  “You ain’t bribin’ me, Wall-ass. Teachers need love too,” he said, judgmental glare smiting me. He sat behind his oak-veneered desk, arms crossed, bald head gleaming in the light from the window behind him.

  “Did I say anything about them lacking love?”

  “No, but you and that sleaze-ball Adams have been cookin’ up somethin’. He told me some of the story, and now you prance in here all excited. I see it in the glimmer of your eyes.”

  I headed for my office. “That’s not a glimmer, that’s sweat from the heat. And I’ll have a check for you to deposit as soon as—” I drew to a quick halt before going full-tilt into Katie Henderson who rounded the corner at the same time.

  Katie and I had been friends since high school. She also knew every one of my escapades and still wanted to hang out. What a gal! And she was so pretty, I liked being around her. Guys seemed to just light up when she entered a room.

  Today, she wore tight black Capri pants and a Harley tee with frayed sleeves. It fit her latest trend of being a motorcycle mama. Her petite height and tiny waist made her look like some sort of blonde Barbie playing dress-up. I worried for her safety on the back of the throaty beast she rode, dreading a phone call in the middle of the night. Having no qualms, she pooh-poohed my neuroses.

  “Whoa, Nellie!” I said, thrusting my hand out to keep from mowing her down.

  “Well, hey yourself!” She side-stepped me and waited for me to proceed forward before following me to my desk. “You almost missed me. I was just about to head over to the mall.”

  “What’re you buying?” I asked, nestling the Denaldo papers on one corner.

  “I’m looking to buy a pair of speakers. Figured I could find something at that new electronics place. So. What’s Dwayne all in a tizzy about?” She tilted her head toward his office. “He’s been on a tear ever since I got here.”

  “Oh, he’s out to right the wrongs of the world. Don’t mind him.”

  “He said you’re filming a divorce?”

  I exhaled loudly and gave her my best Meryl Streep imitation. “Not exactly. The job concerns one Thelma Denaldo, formerly Lunsford. Remember her and a certain note that got passed in fourth period English class?”

  Her eyes bulged. “Oh shotzky. I do remember that. You’re not going to tug on old Witchy-poo’s wig, are you? She’s mean as a rattlesnake.”

  “Tell that to Dwayne.” I stifled a laugh. It had been years since I’d even thought about our nickname for Denaldo. “Witchy-poo. That’s good, isn’t it? Wonder if it still fits?”

  Static electricity fused together a few of the pages of the stapled grouping Jimmy had given me and while I separated them, Katie came closer to read along with me.

  “Sued for adultery? You’re kidding me? Who’d want her?” she asked, disgust lining her voice.

  “Ha, ha, ha.” Laughing, I moved over to a metal file cabinet to pull out a manila folder. I slid the papers inside and then shoved it all back inside my tote purse. “Per the love guru, Dwayne Brown, even old witches who terrorize their young impressionable students need love.”

  “Right. I’ll bet it was one of her students,” Katie mused and crossed her arms. “Some young stud, probably, on a dare from the football team.”

  “I hope not. That’s just gross. At any rate, I have to go over and talk to her later, and good grief, I just dread it. She’s going to remember every bad thing I did in school and remind me of it.”

  Katie hitched one hip onto the corner of the desk as I slid my chair around and gave me a pearly white grin. “Maybe she’ll remember something really good. Something you’ve forgotten about.”

  “God. Thanks for the thought.”

  “You don’t have to call me God,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. Then she lowered her voice almost to a whisper and stared at me. “Is this a paying job? It’d better be. Dwayne was muttering about the utility bill.”

  My heart sank even further. He’d seen the bill? Jim’s offer looked better and better. I needed that money in a large way.

  Seeing my chagrin, she said, “Don’t fret over old Lungsfull. She can’t be holding grudges against anyone if she’s been a bad old biddy, now can she?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows what a middle-aged woman sampling the wares outside of her marital vows will do when the event is brought to light, espec
ially by one of her more or less memorable former students. But if I succeed, we’ll have money in the bank, utility bills paid, and breathing room again, so I guess I have no choice. I’ve agreed to do it.”

  She gave me an analytical gaze. “You look too worried for my tastes. You want me to go with you? I don’t care what she remembers about me.”

  I thought about it. Katie was one tough cookie. Maybe she could rein in the woman’s meaner side. Glancing over the side of the desk at her solid leather boots, I revised that thought. In that getup, Denaldo would never even answer the door.

  Before I could decline her offer, Dwayne sidled in like a slinky panther, stopping in front of my desk with his arms crossed. “If anybody goes with you, it’s me. That poor woman needs a protector from mean gals like y’all. She’s just misunderstood. She’s gotten a bad rap. Most teachers do. I watched that movie about the teacher helping kids from the hood. There’s a lot to be said for them.”

  “Okay. Sure Dwayne, you can go. Just remember, we’re there to get her cooperation. Jim wants her comfortable with us and therefore easy breezy with the plan, which is to film the contents of her house. Or the marital domain as he called it.”

  He clicked his tongue at me. “Jim Adams is one of those hustlers hidin’ in a lawyer’s coat. I can’t believe you associate with that creature.

  Ignoring his opinionated commentary on the man who was about to pay our bills, I turned back to Katie. “Guess we won’t need your assistance, Missy. Keep your phone on. You’re the Marines.” Then, catching Dwayne’s offended look, I added, “But I’m certain we won’t.”

  Katie slid off the desk and walked to one of my client chairs to collect her helmet and gear. In my opinion, the thing she called a helmet was hardly worth wearing. It barely covered her head. No way that thing would protect something as sensitive as a brain.