Caroline and The Body Under The Stairs
Chapter three
After the detectives left, I silently wandered over to my desk chair and plopped down. Richard didn't move out of the chair.
"Richard, I'm so sorry. I was trying to help you."
He just stared at me, shaking his head.
"Just promise me you won't testify on my behalf, Caroline. I think I could do without you as a character witness." He ran his fingers through his hair again. "Let's get back to work."
"Richard, you actually met this woman?"
"Caroline, I don't want to discuss it. Isn't is enough that I'm probably at the top of the list of suspects?"
"But-"
"No." He picked up a pencil and started to color in a strip.
"But you might have been the last person to see her alive. Doesn't that bother you?" He lifted his head and looked slightly annoyed with me.
"Correction: second to last person to see her alive. Or do you think I'm a murderer?" His beautiful brown eyes challenged mine. I had to smile at him. I always do. He just makes me smile.
"No, I would never think that. I happen to think that you are a very kind and gentle man. I think you're one of the best I've ever met." Now don't ask me why that all spilled out when it did. I have complimented Richard before but never so seriously and I knew, sounding so heartfelt. I watched as color sprang up into his face. He cleared his throat nervously. I could see he was desperately searching for something sarcastic to fling back into my court.
"Well, now that we both know what we were doing on Tuesday, we should finish this work and get it to the printers." Wow. Nothing. Maybe I was starting to grow on him after all.
I remember thinking that I wished there was something I could do. People generally open up to me. Maybe if I talked to the other tenants I might come up with something for the police. "You know, I think I'll just take a walk down to the lobby and get the mail. I might have some important bills to pay." I know I said this innocently. I have this Wisconsin clean- cut honesty thing about me. Who wouldn't believe me?
"Caroline, keep out of it. You're not Nancy Drew." What is it with him? Is what I'm thinking written across my forehead? I wrinkled up my face and started to argue with him.
"But—"
"Caroline, this is not a game. This could be dangerous. Let the police do their job. That's what they're paid to do. You're paid to make fun of all the rest of us." Richard and I always had this game we would play. He always had to get in a small dig about my strip and I would ignore him.
It was the first part of what he said to me that caught my attention. "Richard, are you worried about my safety? That is so sweet." I was flattered and elated. I gazed up at his face, looking for any signs of affection for me. Except for a rapid blinking of his eyes, his face was blank.
"It's called job security, Caroline. I still need a paycheck regularly." Richard was an artist. I mean, a serious artist, starving and everything. He was dedicated and single-minded about being discovered someday and I admired him for that. I'm not sure I could put up with such rejection for years and years.
I started drawing circles with my pencil on the top of the desk. Maybe he was right and I should just leave it alone. But, after all, there was a killer on the loose. Just maybe if I-.
"Caroline. Leave it alone." There it was again. Maybe the man had ESP or something.
"Okay, okay. You win." Maybe this is a good place to mention that just because I SAY I agree doesn't mean that I really do. I'm a pretty determined and single-minded woman. Sometimes this gets me in trouble.
My door popped open and Annie ran in, plopping down on the couch in full recline, her long dancer legs wiggling in the air as she dried her bright red toenail polish. Annie is my neighbor and best friend. She's spontaneous, fun, loud, loves men and isn't afraid to show it. There have been times when I have wished I was like her but I'm not. Maybe because we're so different that we get along so great.
"Caroline, have you heard the news?" She inspected her toenails closely, testing the dryness of the polish job. "Hey, Poindexter." She casually threw the last comment to Richard. Annie loved to bait him. I think that was the one thing that drew her to my apartment every day. She loved the challenge of coming up with new ways to get a rise out of him.
"Hey, slut." As usual, she couldn't. Sometimes with these two it was like watching a tennis match.
"Caroline, have you heard about the murder? In our building? Now we'll be in the papers AND there are cops all over this building."
"Hmmm, possible dates?" Richard deadpanned. Point one for him.
"Oh, please, Richard. Do you think that's all I think about? Especially during a time like this?"
Richard and I waited silently. We both knew her.
Annie cast her eyes up to the ceiling and then looked at us. "Well, okay, maybe one or two. But that's all." She protested.
I had to comment. Richard acted like he didn't care and Annie was actually excited about a murder. What is it about big cities that brought this out in people? Was I the only person shocked by all this? Both of them stared back at me, shaking their heads at my naiveté.
"But she lived here a year and we never even met her. Do you know she was" I gulped at the thought, "dead for three days before they found her because no one missed her? That could have been me." I felt suddenly very depressed.
"But Caroline, I visit everyday and Ritchie is always here. We would find your body right away," Annie informed me. Somehow this failed to cheer me up.
"Anyway, the cops were asking if I have ever met the woman, which I hadn't and about my date that day. Who, by the way, is above suspicion. Then they were asking questions about Dr. Kevorkian over there so I mentioned my Unibomber theory." Point one for Annie. She was gloating until she saw the looks on our faces. "Don't worry, I told them I was just joking. Geez, you two, get a sense of humor."
"It doesn't matter. Caroline already pointed out to them that I kill small animals," Richard said mournfully.
"Cheer up, Ritchie. Caroline can come visit you in prison. I hear they allow conjugal visits now." Annie was up by one point now.
"I'm sure you know this from experience." He was definitely on his game today. I would have to declare a tie.
Right about then my door opened again. This time is was Del. See what I mean about the amount of people waltzing in and out of my apartment? It's like a revolving door. It's amazing how much work I actually get done in a day.
"What the heck is going on in this building? Do you know I had to park three blocks away because the police took all the other spaces?" Del Cassidy was my past boyfriend-slash-fiancé and present boss since I seem to be on his payroll now instead of his father's.
"Del, a woman was murdered in this building. Up on the fourth floor. The police are questioning everyone." I gave up trying to work. "They found her body stuffed in the closet under the stairs." I stopped to swallow, feeling my breakfast high in my throat. "They want to know what everyone was doing around here on Tuesday."
"Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday…" Del appeared to be deep in thought while checking out his reflection in the side of my toaster. He moved a lock of hair to one side and lifted up his chin to inspect his neck area. The man has his vanity along with a fear of growing old.
"That would be the day after Monday and right before Wednesday." Richard, speaking slowly as you would to a toddler, rarely resisted an opportunity to level sarcasm at Del's intelligence level. Or lack thereof. You're probably wondering why I nearly married this man. All I can say in my defense is that I ignored his vanity and shallow ideals because I wanted to get married. Del is successful, comes from a well-to-do family, has plenty of money and a Porsche. And the sex was great. For a lot of women, this is an ideal combination. I guess I should have known myself better than that.
Annie snickered. "That information won't compute in his brain. He needs to know which woman he was with that day."
Del tore himself away from his reflection and looked annoyed. "Well, at least I have a life which is more than I can say for the two of you."
Richard and Annie jumped to their own defense and the argument was on. I tuned them out as I do many times and just sat thinking. Something in my memory was bothering me. There had to have been something I missed about the day of the murder. Maybe if I started over and replayed my day over in my mind in minute detail it would come to me. Since I am an artist, I should be good at remembering details. I just had to help. That poor woman could have been me. I shuttered with the thought.
I must have been too quiet for them for suddenly Del got my attention and suggested we go out for dinner. Absentmindedly, I agreed.
To be continued…
Chapter three
After the detectives left, I silently wandered over to my desk chair and plopped down. Richard didn't move out of the chair.
"Richard, I'm so sorry. I was trying to help you."
He just stared at me, shaking his head.
"Just promise me you won't testify on my behalf, Caroline. I think I could do without you as a character witness." He ran his fingers through his hair again. "Let's get back to work."
"Richard, you actually met this woman?"
"Caroline, I don't want to discuss it. Isn't is enough that I'm probably at the top of the list of suspects?"
"But-"
"No." He picked up a pencil and started to color in a strip.
"But you might have been the last person to see her alive. Doesn't that bother you?" He lifted his head and looked slightly annoyed with me.
"Correction: second to last person to see her alive. Or do you think I'm a murderer?" His beautiful brown eyes challenged mine. I had to smile at him. I always do. He just makes me smile.
"No, I would never think that. I happen to think that you are a very kind and gentle man. I think you're one of the best I've ever met." Now don't ask me why that all spilled out when it did. I have complimented Richard before but never so seriously and I knew, sounding so heartfelt. I watched as color sprang up into his face. He cleared his throat nervously. I could see he was desperately searching for something sarcastic to fling back into my court.
"Well, now that we both know what we were doing on Tuesday, we should finish this work and get it to the printers." Wow. Nothing. Maybe I was starting to grow on him after all.
I remember thinking that I wished there was something I could do. People generally open up to me. Maybe if I talked to the other tenants I might come up with something for the police. "You know, I think I'll just take a walk down to the lobby and get the mail. I might have some important bills to pay." I know I said this innocently. I have this Wisconsin clean- cut honesty thing about me. Who wouldn't believe me?
"Caroline, keep out of it. You're not Nancy Drew." What is it with him? Is what I'm thinking written across my forehead? I wrinkled up my face and started to argue with him.
"But—"
"Caroline, this is not a game. This could be dangerous. Let the police do their job. That's what they're paid to do. You're paid to make fun of all the rest of us." Richard and I always had this game we would play. He always had to get in a small dig about my strip and I would ignore him.
It was the first part of what he said to me that caught my attention. "Richard, are you worried about my safety? That is so sweet." I was flattered and elated. I gazed up at his face, looking for any signs of affection for me. Except for a rapid blinking of his eyes, his face was blank.
"It's called job security, Caroline. I still need a paycheck regularly." Richard was an artist. I mean, a serious artist, starving and everything. He was dedicated and single-minded about being discovered someday and I admired him for that. I'm not sure I could put up with such rejection for years and years.
I started drawing circles with my pencil on the top of the desk. Maybe he was right and I should just leave it alone. But, after all, there was a killer on the loose. Just maybe if I-.
"Caroline. Leave it alone." There it was again. Maybe the man had ESP or something.
"Okay, okay. You win." Maybe this is a good place to mention that just because I SAY I agree doesn't mean that I really do. I'm a pretty determined and single-minded woman. Sometimes this gets me in trouble.
My door popped open and Annie ran in, plopping down on the couch in full recline, her long dancer legs wiggling in the air as she dried her bright red toenail polish. Annie is my neighbor and best friend. She's spontaneous, fun, loud, loves men and isn't afraid to show it. There have been times when I have wished I was like her but I'm not. Maybe because we're so different that we get along so great.
"Caroline, have you heard the news?" She inspected her toenails closely, testing the dryness of the polish job. "Hey, Poindexter." She casually threw the last comment to Richard. Annie loved to bait him. I think that was the one thing that drew her to my apartment every day. She loved the challenge of coming up with new ways to get a rise out of him.
"Hey, slut." As usual, she couldn't. Sometimes with these two it was like watching a tennis match.
"Caroline, have you heard about the murder? In our building? Now we'll be in the papers AND there are cops all over this building."
"Hmmm, possible dates?" Richard deadpanned. Point one for him.
"Oh, please, Richard. Do you think that's all I think about? Especially during a time like this?"
Richard and I waited silently. We both knew her.
Annie cast her eyes up to the ceiling and then looked at us. "Well, okay, maybe one or two. But that's all." She protested.
I had to comment. Richard acted like he didn't care and Annie was actually excited about a murder. What is it about big cities that brought this out in people? Was I the only person shocked by all this? Both of them stared back at me, shaking their heads at my naiveté.
"But she lived here a year and we never even met her. Do you know she was" I gulped at the thought, "dead for three days before they found her because no one missed her? That could have been me." I felt suddenly very depressed.
"But Caroline, I visit everyday and Ritchie is always here. We would find your body right away," Annie informed me. Somehow this failed to cheer me up.
"Anyway, the cops were asking if I have ever met the woman, which I hadn't and about my date that day. Who, by the way, is above suspicion. Then they were asking questions about Dr. Kevorkian over there so I mentioned my Unibomber theory." Point one for Annie. She was gloating until she saw the looks on our faces. "Don't worry, I told them I was just joking. Geez, you two, get a sense of humor."
"It doesn't matter. Caroline already pointed out to them that I kill small animals," Richard said mournfully.
"Cheer up, Ritchie. Caroline can come visit you in prison. I hear they allow conjugal visits now." Annie was up by one point now.
"I'm sure you know this from experience." He was definitely on his game today. I would have to declare a tie.
Right about then my door opened again. This time is was Del. See what I mean about the amount of people waltzing in and out of my apartment? It's like a revolving door. It's amazing how much work I actually get done in a day.
"What the heck is going on in this building? Do you know I had to park three blocks away because the police took all the other spaces?" Del Cassidy was my past boyfriend-slash-fiancé and present boss since I seem to be on his payroll now instead of his father's.
"Del, a woman was murdered in this building. Up on the fourth floor. The police are questioning everyone." I gave up trying to work. "They found her body stuffed in the closet under the stairs." I stopped to swallow, feeling my breakfast high in my throat. "They want to know what everyone was doing around here on Tuesday."
"Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday…" Del appeared to be deep in thought while checking out his reflection in the side of my toaster. He moved a lock of hair to one side and lifted up his chin to inspect his neck area. The man has his vanity along with a fear of growing old.
"That would be the day after Monday and right before Wednesday." Richard, speaking slowly as you would to a toddler, rarely resisted an opportunity to level sarcasm at Del's intelligence level. Or lack thereof. You're probably wondering why I nearly married this man. All I can say in my defense is that I ignored his vanity and shallow ideals because I wanted to get married. Del is successful, comes from a well-to-do family, has plenty of money and a Porsche. And the sex was great. For a lot of women, this is an ideal combination. I guess I should have known myself better than that.
Annie snickered. "That information won't compute in his brain. He needs to know which woman he was with that day."
Del tore himself away from his reflection and looked annoyed. "Well, at least I have a life which is more than I can say for the two of you."
Richard and Annie jumped to their own defense and the argument was on. I tuned them out as I do many times and just sat thinking. Something in my memory was bothering me. There had to have been something I missed about the day of the murder. Maybe if I started over and replayed my day over in my mind in minute detail it would come to me. Since I am an artist, I should be good at remembering details. I just had to help. That poor woman could have been me. I shuttered with the thought.
I must have been too quiet for them for suddenly Del got my attention and suggested we go out for dinner. Absentmindedly, I agreed.
To be continued…
