“The repairs sound expensive.”
I nodded. “And there’s more.” I almost hated to mention the rest, because it painted an ugly picture of Matt. And the truth was, he was a good guy. I really liked him. Still, the destruction caused by Chuck’s subpar work could easily have been motive for murder. “Apparently, Chuck did some work on the shop before it opened last summer. When Matt tore out the carpet, he found that Chuck hadn’t properly nailed down the subflooring. So he was taking care of it himself. With a cordless pneumatic nail gun.”
“That’s what—”
“Yeah. That’s what the killer used on Chuck. Gave me the creeps to see Matt holding one. And the sound . . .” I shuddered.
“Yes, but it does establish the fact that Matt knew how to use one. I was thinking that I’d have no idea how to operate one of those things. I bet a lot of people wouldn’t.”
She was right. The killer would have to have some knowledge of how to handle a nail gun. Of course, if they’d planned the murder to set up Jodi, or Lynn, they would have had plenty of time to learn how to use one. But . . . “I just thought of something. I keep assuming we had to consider Jodi or maybe Lynn, too, on our suspect list. But now, with the nails found in Jodi’s room, it’s looking like someone really intended to frame Jodi all along. I mean, it makes sense, right? Why would she use the same method that was used in her book and then be careless enough to just leave a strip of pneumatic nails in her room?”
Vicky nodded. “I agree. It would seem that she’s being framed.” Suddenly she darted from her chair. “Stop that! Bad dog!” She ran over to where Olive was chewing on the leg of one of the waiting room chairs. She pulled her away and placed her on her doggie mat in the corner of the room before returning to her desk with a disgruntled sigh. “Sorry. Please go on.”
“I’m just wondering, if Jodi was framed, how did the killer know Chuck was going to be in the kitchen at that very moment with a nail gun in his tool bag? And why’d Chuck bring in a nail gun in the first place? It wouldn’t seem a likely tool for fixing a refrigerator.”
“Perhaps he always carried one in his bag,” Vicky supplied.
“Maybe.” Although it was kind of a big thing to carry around all the time. “Still. The timing was incredible. And getting back to Matt. We don’t know if he was anywhere near the Arts Center that afternoon.”
“You’re right. We’ll need to find out if he had an alibi.” A whining noise drew our attention to the door, where Olive was pawing to go out. “Oh for Pete’s sake!” Vicky grumbled, reaching under the desk, where she kept a small tote bag with her winter boots. She started slipping off her sensible pumps and sliding on her boots. “You’ll have to excuse me, Lila. Olive needs to be walked.” Her tone on the dog’s name left no doubt as to her feelings about this task.
I glanced down the hall toward Bentley’s office door. “Where’s Bentley? Shouldn’t she be taking care of Olive?”
Vicky pressed her lips tightly together and let out an exaggerated harrumph. “Jodi’s arraignment was scheduled first thing this morning. Both she and Flora went to the courthouse. I’m supposed to remind everyone to keep their ears and eyes open for anything that will exonerate Jodi.” She lifted her heavy wool coat from the coat stand and wrapped a hand-knitted muffler around her neck. Next to her, Olive yapped and jumped with excitement. Vicky turned to me before opening the door. “I would do a little checking around on my own, but I’ve been busy dog sitting. Of course, it seems dog sitting is all I’ve been doing lately. By the way, would you mind checking in on Eliot? He’s in the break room. He might need some extra water.” Her voice was almost sorrowful as she asked. I was starting to wonder just how wise it was for Bentley to take on Olive’s care, even if it was just temporary. Sure, Olive needed a home and she did seem to have a soothing effect on our high-strung boss. But was Bentley’s on-the-go lifestyle really suitable for caring for the lovable but highly demanding Olive? Sloughing off that responsibility to Vicky might seem a simple fix to her, but the repercussions could be disastrous. Vicky was a considerable asset to our agency; her thorough and no-nonsense personality had created a smoothly functioning office, something that was hard enough to find in any office staff, especially one with such high energy and eclectic personalities as our agency. Bentley really couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. I shook my head. I had a feeling that what started out as a good intention was going to end up as a bad dilemma.