“You can say that again,” he said. “But she didn’t say anything specific?”
“No. Oh, wait. She said her job was kind of cut-throat and she was wondering if she should look around for something new.” She shrugged again. “Maybe selling storage stuff is like that.”
“Could be,” Ethan said thoughtfully.
“Maybe I should have asked her more questions. I feel terrible about it.”
“I’m sure you did what anyone would have done. It’s hard to help someone if they aren’t willing to go into specifics and actually ask for help,” he said.
She nodded. “That’s true. Well, I’ve got more pizzas to deliver. I hope you find her killer fast. I hate thinking someone is out there on the loose that’s capable of murder.”
“You be careful while you’re out there delivering pizzas,” I told her.
“I will be. I’ve got pepper spray.” She opened up her other hand and I could see a small canister of pepper spray that was attached to her hand by a small webbed strap.
“That’s a great idea,” I said.
“That is a great idea,” Ethan agreed. “Take a look around you before you get out of your car and if you see anyone suspicious, don’t hesitate to call the police.”
“I won’t. Thanks guys,” she said and headed back to her car.
The summer night air was cool, and it felt good. “Let’s leave the door open to get some air,” I said and headed to the kitchen with the pizza. “That pepper spray is a good idea. I like that it’s right there in her hand.”
“It is a great idea. Maybe I’ll get you some. You can never be too safe. Especially when there’s a killer on the loose.”
The cats followed us into the kitchen, and I got some plates out for us. I had ordered a half Hawaiian and half pepperoni pizza, and I pulled off some of the ham and pepperoni and put it on small plates for the cats. They went after the treat greedily while keeping an eye on one another.
“I love pizza,” Ethan said, and we sat down at the table for dinner.
“Me too. So, Storage Inc is a cut-throat office? Makes me wonder what’s going on there. Do they have cameras in the office?”
“Nope. I already asked. They have a security service that drives by at night and on weekends, but no cameras.”
I sighed. “We need to talk to the other employees again.”
“We?” he asked.
I chuckled. “You. Unless I happen to run into someone that works there.”
“I guess that’s why you wanted the names of who worked there, then.” He looked at me, one eyebrow raised.
I grinned at him. “Maybe. You never know what someone might tell me.”
He laughed. “All right, then. If you just happen to run into someone and they just happen to tell you something, I guess that’s okay.”
I took a sip of my lemonade. Someone knew something. Maybe Olivia had been killed there in the office and was dragged outside when no one was looking, or maybe someone had killed her some place else and dumped her body. But if the killer had driven her there—far away from the murder scene, then that might be why there wasn’t any evidence where her body had been found.
Chapter Eight
“Okay, so what gives?” Amanda asked, sitting down at the table across from me. “I haven’t seen you in at least three days.”
I laughed. I had stopped by Little Coffee Shop of Horrors to take a break and rest my feet. It was Tuesday afternoon, and she was right. I hadn’t been here since Friday. I normally stopped by every day and I had missed her and the coffee.
“It’s been a madhouse at the candy store. I’m so glad today is Tuesday and it isn’t nearly as busy as the weekend was. How has business been for you?”
She sighed. “The same. I can’t remember when we’ve had so many tourists on opening weekend of the Halloween season. And I couldn’t be happier about it. I made pumpkin spice muffins with cream cheese in the middle, pumpkin scones, and I also made pumpkin cranberry biscotti. You know how I am. I love pumpkin everything.”
“And you know I’m the same way,” I said holding up my cup of pumpkin spice latte. “There’s nothing like the fall and pumpkin-flavored everything.”
“I thought fall would never get here.” She looked over her shoulder as a customer came in the door and stepped up to the front counter. Mary, her part-time employee asked for his order. She turned back to me. “So what’s the scoop on Olivia Summers’ murder?” She pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“She was strangled, and Ethan is on the case, of course. There really isn’t much to tell just yet.”
She nodded. “I knew all that already. I was hoping you had something more. Poor thing. I hate that that happened to her.”
“Me too. She was nice. At least, from what I know of her, she was.”
She took a sip of her coffee and looked at me again. “She had some problems with Carla Steele. Do you know her?”
“Yeah, she used to work at the gift shop. I talked to her there a few times. What kind of trouble did Olivia have with her?”
“She works at Storage Inc now. Olivia said Carla couldn’t stand her, and she wasn’t sure why. It sounded like petty stuff before she ended up dead. Now I have to wonder.”
I took a sip of my coffee and glanced at the customer at the front counter. He was out of earshot. “Did she say anything specific?”
“She said Carla was always telling their boss that she was late, or that she wasn’t getting her work done. Olivia said she was lying and that she couldn’t stand her. I
