Chapter 1
“I know it’s going to be a good day when I wake up to a desperate call from a potential client.”
Cece Cavanaugh
Ed Jennings’s emergency phone call in the wee hours of the morning interrupted my much-needed beauty sleep. I was typically a morning person but on my own terms—after a shower, a cup of tea, maybe even a bagel slathered with cream cheese. Then, and only then, could I greet the day.
Today I didn’t have time for any of that. When I parked my car and trudged into Wickford High School, I was not a happy camper. Nor was I chipper and ready to face the world. I wanted—make that needed—caffeine or something energizing to jump-start my day. Instead, I spotted my former friend, Liz Blevins. She wiggled her fingers in a pretentious wave. My judgmental self kicked in and tried to ignore her. She hadn’t called me once in the seven months since I’d separated from my husband. None of my friends from the country club had called—not one. I had reached out to several, but my calls were either met with icy chills or not returned. At least Liz had recommended me for this job. My conscience made me wave back. A grim-faced man stood next to her. I assumed he was the new principal, Ed Jennings.
My recent separation had pushed me to the brink of poverty, and I was slowly clawing my way out of the never-ending black hole of bills. Jobs like this one helped tremendously. In between the bigger, more lucrative jobs, I had a steady gig cleaning condos for a local developer.
I relied on friends and acquaintances to spread the word about the new business I’d recently started. I specialized in cleaning in the aftermath of catastrophic events. The money those types of jobs brought in helped much more than any other positions I found. My résumé was a bit blank since I’d been out of the workforce more than seventeen years.
Liz used to be my doubles partner at the country club—before my pending divorce from Phillip Cavanaugh, the grandson of one of the founding members. Liz was also the school nurse at Wickford High.
“Hey, Cece,” Liz greeted me. “Hope you don’t mind me giving your contact information to Ed. I was surprised to learn you’d started a business. Why didn’t you go back to nursing?”
“Long story.” I forced a smile, unwilling to share my down-on-my-luck story. “Thanks for the recommendation. I appreciate you thinking of me.” Which was not what I thought at all since she hadn’t bothered to call even once to check in. Angie, my best friend, was at my house minutes after Phillip walked out and had been by my side since.
Liz introduced me to her boss and continued to hang around—a fact that irked me. I’d hoped to avoid her. Her snub still smarted. I thought I had put all those feelings aside, but seeing her brought them all to the surface. I had lost my husband, my standing in the community, and most of my friends in one fell swoop. The only thing I’d managed to hang onto was our family home, which I now shared with my seventeen-year-old daughter.
“Morning, Mrs. Cavanaugh.” Ed extended a beefy hand. “Sorry to drag you out of your cozy bed on this rainy morning.”
I shoved my keys in my pocket, shook his hand, then pulled my coat around me to ward off the chill. “No problem. And call me Cece, please.”
Even though we were standing in the front hall, the frigid temperature felt like I was still in the parking lot. I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering.
“Sorry about the cold.” Ed pulled a flashlight from the pocket of his jacket. “Maintenance is working on getting the heat back on. With the storm last night and all the rain, we lost power. No power equals no heat. The rest of town seems to be fine. We must have blown a circuit or something.”
I shivered and looked around. “So, what’s the emergency you alluded to?”
Ed clicked on the flashlight and pointed to the stairwell, which descended to the terrace or first-floor level of the school. “Come take a look.”
I followed him and Liz to the railing and peered over. He swept the beam of light around the area, revealing a water-flooded hallway.
“The rain came down so fast, it had nowhere to go.” Ed’s light flickered and he slapped it against the palm of his hand. When the light steadied, he continued. “Water and mud poured in through the doors in the atrium like a dam had burst. The entire first floor is covered in about six inches of muck. Plus, all that rain has wreaked havoc on the storm sewers. Everything’s backed up.”
Liz made a face like she’d been asked to scrub a gas station toilet.
Ed sighed. “My janitor’s out with a slipped disc. That’s why Liz recommended you. And Zella seconded it.”
“Zella? Is she still working in the cafeteria?” I’d gone to school at Wickford High many years ago and remembered she made the best chocolate chip cookies. After school, my best friend and I would sneak into the kitchen where Zella always left a fresh batch. We’d gorge ourselves and vow never to eat another one. At least not until Zella baked more. She always feigned anger about the missing cookies, but she wore a big grin while pretending to search for the culprits who had snatched the goods.
“Still cooking. Hate to lose her when she and Tommy retire, but she deserves to enjoy some time off. We’ll be contracting out food service. With the proposed budget cuts, we’re in a real mess.” Ed shook his head.
I nodded in commiseration. “It’s a shame about the tax increase failing. I saw an article in the paper about the budget shortfall and the number of positions being eliminated. Must make it tough on you. And now this.”
“It’s sad, but every dollar counts these days. Every day the school is closed is money lost. That makes getting this muck cleaned up my number one priority. You can make it your priority, right?”
“Yes, it won’t be a problem. I have an assistant I can bring in to help, but I have to ask, is there going to be a problem finding resources to pay me? As much as I’d love to volunteer my services, I can’t afford to work for free.”
“Not a problem. There’s a special fund for emergencies,” Ed said. “Come on. Let’s take a walk, and I’ll show you what I’m talking about. Liz, follow us. Since you and Cece know one another, you can be the point person if Cece needs anything.”
“About the water . . .” I shivered. “Is sewage involved? Because that’s a whole different issue.”
“No. No, no, no,” Ed said. “The sanitary sewers are not involved. This is rainwater and mud. That’s all.”
“Good.” I relaxed a bit. “Makes my job easier.” I wasn’t in the mood for the problem sewage presented or the time required to do the cleanup. Any other time, I’d be all over it. The money those kinds of jobs garnered was twice what I could charge for simple cleanups. Jobs like crime scenes raked in big bucks. But I wanted this one done so I could concentrate on planning and paying for my Thanksgiving celebration.
I glanced down the shadowy hallway. The familiar smells of stale sweat, industrial-strength cleaners, and floor wax assaulted my nose, along with the damp earthy smells of mud. My mind filled with scenes of endless corridors jam-packed with chattering students, lockers slamming, and the ever-present pealing of the class bell urging everyone on to next period. I’d never witnessed the school this dark or deserted.
Ed dug two more flashlights from his pocket and switched them on. “Maintenance should have the lights working soon, but I brought a light for each of you.”
Shaking off my stroll down memory lane, I took the proffered light, adjusted my purse across my shoulder, and followed him down the steps. Liz lagged behind. I was glad I’d taken Ed’s advice and worn boots, because before we reached the bottom step, we were ankle-deep.
“Watch your step. It’s slippery.” He splayed the light across the darkness. Double-stacked lockers lined both walls.
My own locker was long gone, replaced with these tiny versions, but that didn’t stop me from reminiscing about Jordache jeans, slouchy socks, and mile-high hair. I could almost see myself primping in front of the mirror I’d taped to the inside. Not that I was bragging, but my hair had been spectacular—naturally blonde, thick, poofed, and gelled in all the right places. To obtain the height and fullness, I’d endured torturous moments wrapping my hair around steaming hot rollers while trying not to burn my fingers. Thirty years later, I was still blonde—with a whole lot of help from my stylist. The poofing and gelling disappeared with the eighties replaced by mousse, styling spray, and blowouts. Thank goodness for fading fads.
“We’ve canceled classes for the day and possibly into next week too. I’ve also assembled the staff whose classrooms and offices are on this floor. I’ve called a quick meeting, and I’d like you to attend, Cece. And of course, you too, Liz.” The principal turned left into the school’s east wing.
Despite the flooded hallway, his stride was long and his pace brisk. It took everything I had to keep up without slipping and sliding. Today wasn’t the day to take a mud bath, though a soothing soak in my Jacuzzi sounded tempting. Scratch that. My leisurely days had ended when my husband cleaned out our bank accounts and left me with a mortgage six months in arrears. Club luncheons and tennis dates had given way to bill collectors and long days of back-breaking work. That was why a soak in my Jacuzzi would feel great at the end of the day when my muscles cramped and ached.
The school was built on a sloping piece of property. The main entrance, where I’d come in, was actually the second floor. The first floor, or atrium level, had a wall of windows and doors in between the east and west wings overlooking the commons area, which led to the football field.
Liz raised her flashlight and shined it at a door. “This is my office.”
“Come ladies, we have a meeting to get to.” The principal led us down the hall and stopped in front of the maintenance room. “Let me check the status of the generator.” He turned the knob, but the door didn’t budge. “Odd. That door’s not supposed to be locked.” After a moment, he sighed and waved at it dismissively. “I’ll take care of it later. Let’s get to the meeting.”
Even before we reached the cafeteria, I heard a cacophony of voices. It sounded like a smaller version of the standard lunch period, with the exception of clattering trays and utensils.
Ed stopped short and took a breath. He pushed open the door, and a group of adults on the verge of mutiny met us. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along two sides of the cafeteria admitting what little light there was from the gloomy morning.
“All right, people. I need your attention,” Ed’s principal voice boomed across the room.
The chattering did not abate. Instead, it grew louder. I pictured the angry mob scene from the movie Frankenstein, but instead of torches, this group carried flashlights.
“How do you expect us to get anything done in the dark?” a short wisp of a woman shouted. “Why can’t we go home?”
“You canceled school. It seems silly to make us come in.” This from a tweed-jacketed man with a stringy, gray ponytail. “Especially in the wake of the so-called budget shortfall.”
“Folks, calm down,” Ed said. “I understand your concern, but until we get electricity and get the water out of here, you all need to work in your classrooms and offices making sure your supplies and books aren’t ruined. We certainly can’t afford to replace everything, and insurance only goes so far.”
The group let out a collective moan, and those who were standing shuffled to the nearest chairs and sat down.
“Everybody, this is Cece Cavanaugh. She’s going to help us get this mess under control. She’ll be in charge of the cleanup. Liz recommended her. Thanks Liz.” He tipped his head in her direction. Liz nodded back.
I recognized Zella, the head cook for Wickford High, but the other faces were unfamiliar.
“As soon as maintenance figures out what the power situation is, we can get the water pumped out of the hallways, then Cece can work on getting rid of the mud,” Ed said. “The last thing we need is someone slipping and filing a lawsuit. Understand?”
The group pummeled Ed with questions from all directions.
“Ed, my office is a wreck,” said the small woman who wore a gray sweater over black slacks. “It needs priority. Can’t she start in there?”
“I’ve got a ton of experiments in the science lab,” said the tweed-jacket guy. “If they’re ruined, there goes our shot at the state science fair.”
“You’re the woman who found Delores Redmond’s dead husband,” said the woman in black slacks, directing her attention to me.
Her declaration brought a whole new volley of questions and outed me as the solver of Lloyd Redmond’s murder. My face grew hot, and I felt sweat collecting at the nape of my neck despite the chill in the air. In June, Delores’s daughter had asked me to clean out Delores’s home so it could be sold. Elderly Delores had turned into a hoarder after her husband abandoned her. Turned out he hadn’t. A couple days into the job I discovered his body buried under a frostbitten stack of frozen dinners in a freezer in their garage. After finding a stash of diamonds and books filled with hundred-dollar bills, I’d inadvertently confronted the killer, almost gotten myself killed, and unraveled the tangled murder.
Ed leaned toward me. “What are they talking about?”
“Please, it’s nothing, really. Can you get them to focus on your meeting?”
“All of you, listen up,” Ed said. “Let’s get on track.”
“I’ve got produce to put away,” Zella said. “You wanna talk budget? If that stuff gets ruined, you got no food to feed these kids. May I be excused?”
Ed nodded. “Go ahead, Zella. As for the rest of you, Cece only has two hands. When our meeting is over, you all need to pitch in too.” He pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “I have a list of priorities. Work your way down the list with Liz’s guidance.” The principal paused and scanned the room, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Where are Steve and TJ?”
I didn’t have a clue who Steve and TJ were, much less where they were.
Heads swiveled in Liz’s direction.
“What?” Liz said. “I’m not his keeper.”
“Steve was talking to TJ earlier near the library,” the woman in the gray sweater offered.
Tweed-jacket guy mumbled something under his breath. Those closest to him laughed nervously. Liz ignored him.
“I saw Steve too,” Tweed-jacket said. “I saw you talking to him outside your office, Liz.”
Her face flushed bright red. “You must be mistaken.”
Ed blew out a breath. “The first one to see either one of them, tell them to find me right away. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got to get an update on the generator.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the group.
“Let’s get going,” Ed said to me. “I can’t imagine what’s taking so long. We’ll check the maintenance room, then get you situated.”
The staff continued to grumble as they dispersed.
Liz caught up with me. “Sorry I haven’t kept in touch.” She smiled, but her eyes hadn’t received the message from her lips.
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
Ed was almost out of sight. I picked up my pace with Liz following close behind.
“No, really. I am sorry. I’ve been a bad friend, and I want to make it up to you. You could come over this weekend. Bill’s hunting—” Liz stopped mid-sentence.
I knew exactly where her husband would be this weekend. It was deer season. Bill and several of his friends, including my soon-to-be ex-husband, had partnerships in a lodge near the lake. Deer weekend was a notorious party weekend for the guys and a source of constant complaint from the wives—only this year I didn’t have a care in the world. If Phillip wanted to tromp around in the woods and shoot Bambi or do Bambi, more power to him.
The weekend also gave way for Liz’s annual sleepover bash for the deer hunters’ wives. The last place Liz wanted me was in the middle of her gabby girls’ weekend. I had to admit she always put on a good spread, hiring the best caterer. Last year’s extravaganza included a chocolate fountain, every kind of canapé imaginable, and enough liquor to loosen even the stiffest tongue. Gossip flowed almost as freely as the booze. No, spending the weekend with the country club set was definitely not my idea of a fun weekend, especially since my mother-in-law would be there. Plus, the grapevine would be eager for the latest Cavanaugh gossip.
There would, of course, be the requisite questions, asking if Phillip was still seeing Willow, the woman he’d left me for. My former friends would disguise their questions as concern. If the Wickford rumor mill was working properly, there would be surreptitious attempts to find out about my love life or lack of one. I was sure word had spread that I’d been seen having coffee with Grant Hunter, the local developer I worked for. And I knew my mother-in-law had broadcasted the word about seeing me on a few occasions with Case Alder, a detective I’d met during a murder investigation.
“I’ve got plans,” I lied.
Liz breathed an audible sigh. “I totally understand. Maybe we can get together for lunch during the holidays.”
We both knew we wouldn’t. My life had changed directions. She probably thought for the worst, but I knew my future already looked brighter without Phillip. Though, it had taken me several months to figure it out. Now that I had, there was no looking back. No regrets. No crying over spilled Dom Pérignon.
Ed tapped the flashlight against his leg. “I don’t have all day.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go,” I said.
“Stop by my office when you’re ready.” Liz clicked on her flashlight. “Or shoot me a text. You have my cell number.”
“No,” I said, “I don’t.” I’d deleted her number. In a moment of self-pity, I’d gone through my phone and deleted the numbers of everyone who’d turned their backs on me. Freed up a lot of memory on my phone, but it was more an act of freeing myself.
Liz grimaced. “Oh, let me give it to you.”
While she recited her number, I tapped it into my phone, then slid it into my coat pocket.
When she turned the corner and headed toward her office, I caught up with Ed. “Sorry.” I nodded after Liz. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
He continued down the hall, the beam of his flashlight bobbing ahead of us. We stopped at his office and he picked up his keys. Just as we entered the maintenance room, the generator rumbled to life and the lights flickered on.
Ed stopped, and I bumped into him. “What the devil?”
Across the room, a man slumped over a workbench. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.
“What are you doing in here?” Ed addressed the man. “I’ve been looking for you.”
A feeling of dread washed over me.
“Steve?” Ed sloshed through the water and touched the guy’s shoulder. “Trupeli, what’s going on?” The man tilted precariously and toppled onto the mud-covered floor.
Crap! Crap! Crap! I closed my eyes and prayed the guy had just fallen asleep—a really deep sleep. Maybe a coma. I knew better. I’d recently been privy to two other murder scenes—Brian Anderson who was murdered at Harmony Inn back in the spring and Lloyd Redmond whom I’d found stuffed into a freezer in early summer. This scenario had all the markings of foul play.
The maintenance man, whom I recognized as Tommy King, walked in wiping his hands on a grubby towel. “Didn’t think I’d ever get that mother working, Ed.”
Ed’s face paled. I inched closer to the workbench with him. Ed jumped back like he’d been electrocuted. Which wouldn’t have been out of the question considering he was standing in six inches of water, and Steve Trupeli had an electric cord wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, the dangling plug indicated the drill was not connected to an outlet.
Still clueless, Tommy kept talking. “Everything in this place is falling apart or dying. You gotta find a way to cut loose with some money.”
The only thing that needed to be cut loose was the power cord wrapped around Steve Trupeli’s neck.
