Murder At the Cubbyhole. Alice Zogg
brought her additional cash, which kept her above water so far.
In the first few months as a newcomer, she had stayed with her kinfolk, Auntie Sue and Uncle Earl, in Pasadena. Then she had briefly lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Century City, proudly calling it the very first place of her own. She smiled to herself as she thought back to her dog-walking days. Andi would never forget the day Mrs. Huber called her with a job offer as assistant sleuth, taking her up on a plea she had made on impulse several months before. She had been thrilled at the chance to prove herself as an undercover detective and rode up to the Big Bear area where she took residency at Optimum House.
After that initial job, she was a steady helper to her detective boss. In order to be closer to Pasadena City College and also R. A. Huber’s office, she soon moved back in with her kinfolk. Last fall, when she transferred to UCLA, she had accepted Mr. and Mrs. Huber’s offer of the guestroom at their house in Merida, and although her short stay with them had been fun, the commute to UCLA proved too much. So now she was back in West L.A., sharing an apartment with two other students. For a girl who lived with her Daddy in the same house in New Orleans from the day she was born and lost her momma until reaching the age of eighteen, she surely had gotten around lately!
Andi was riding along the 210 Freeway now and would shortly arrive at her destination. Busy with her studies, she had not seen her boss in over a month and was full of enthusiasm about getting briefed on Mrs. Huber’s new case. Until that very moment, she had not realized how much she missed her fearless, intelligent, athletic yet elegant employer with the salt-and-pepper hair and Swiss accent. They teased one another about their “non-existing” accents, neither admitting to having one. In the three years of working for Mrs. Huber, she had not only come to respect and admire her employer, but had grown fond of her.
As she approached the two-story office building in Pasadena and rode into the parking lot, Andi wondered what kind of new mystery her boss had for them to solve.
Chapter 5
R. A. Huber glanced up from her notes when Andi blew into her office like a whirlwind. The young woman crossed the room with a few long steps, placed her helmet at the opposite side of the desk from where Huber’s Staunton Rosewood chessboard was set up with the chessmen, and plopped into the client chair. Although Andi had intellectually grown in the last three years, she was hardly changed physically. Long-legged at 5’9” and weighing about 120 pounds, her wavy auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in the same unruly way, and she still looked at the world with mischievous green eyes. As was typical for her, she was clad in jeans, a black leather jacket, and cowboy boots.
Andi said, “How you doin’, Mrs. Huber? I’m tickled pink about your lettin’ me help solve another case!”
“Studying seems to agree with you; you look great!”
“Thank you, ma’ am!”
Getting down to business Huber said, “Let me clue you in,” and told all she knew about the Megan Maguire killing, occasionally consulting her notes in order to go into more detail.
Andi listened carefully, and when her boss’s briefing came to a halt, asked, “So Megan’s folks are no longer here?”
“That’s right. They drove down to see their daughter perform, making a vacation trip out of the occasion. After the tragedy, they stayed in Southern California another ten days and then went home to Portland, taking their only child’s ashes along with them.”
Andi tried not to dwell on that sad picture and said, “I reckon the police checked where the orchid came from.”
“They certainly did, but it got them nowhere. The delivery person used a bogus florist name claiming he was from - -” she consulted her paperwork, “- - Champion Arrangements, dropping off flowers for Megan. It turns out that Champion Arrangements does not exist. The authorities investigated florists throughout Pasadena and beyond, but their inquiries dead-ended. Countless purchases of orchids were made all over Southern California on that Valentine’s Day weekend, so they could have been bought anywhere, and not just at a flower shop. Orchids are also available at supermarkets and places like Trader Joe’s around holidays, especially Valentine’s Day. For all we know, the villain could have grown them in his own backyard. And needless to say, the orchid deliverer was not identified.”
Huber absentmindedly lifted a white rook from its position on the chessboard, and twirling it around in her fingers, said, “According to the information given to Sergeant Wolf, the Cubbyhole was full to capacity the night of that performance; it was the play’s premiere. If the device was activated by a cell phone in the audience, conducting the investigation from that angle would be a waste of time.”
“I’ve lost you, boss.”
“The task to check out each and every person who sat in that theater would be impossible.”
“Gotcha!”
“And even if it was set off by a timer, there was nothing left of it to analyze.”
Andi said, “So are the police clueless as to suspects?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Their investigation is still on-going, but according to the Maguires, the police have not come up with any serious suspects yet.”
“It was murder, right?”
“Placing a bomb in the Cubbyhole would definitely suggest homicidal intent. The explosion was most likely meant to kill Megan and no one else, but it’s too early to jump to that conclusion.”
“I hear ya.”
Huber shoved a piece of paper across the desk, saying, “Here are the individuals the police have questioned. We’ll soon begin our own interviewing.”
Andi looked at the long list of names and addresses and asked, “Which ones are mine to tackle?”
“When are your semester finals over?”
“Not until next Wednesday, but I can - -”
“No, you can’t, Andi! Your education is top priority. I will conduct the investigation alone for the first few days. Then, by the end of next week, I’ll assign people for you to interview.”
Andi knew better than to argue the point.
Chapter 6
At eleven o’clock on Saturday morning, R. A. Huber stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the building with large lettering across its façade: Pine Forest Apartments. Shaking her head, she paused before ascending the exterior stairs to apartment number 9C on the second floor. There were neither pines nor forests anywhere near the apartment complex, located a short distance away from Pasadena City College.
Loud music was sounding from apartment 9C and she had to ring the doorbell twice before being heard. When the door finally flew open, Huber was looking at a slightly out of breath young woman with sharp features and hair pulled back into a pony tail. She was barefoot, wearing an athletic bra and exercise shorts, barely covering her buttocks.
“Amber Pierce? I’m R. A. Huber.”
“Oh, is it eleven already?” Amber asked, her breathing returning to normal. “Come on in.”
She pushed the “off” button on the CD remote, pointed to the only available chair in the room, and said, “Have a seat. I was choreographing a new aerobic dance routine.” She cleared away one corner of the sofa piled with laundry, and flopped herself down.
Huber asked, “You work at a local gym, correct?”
“That’s right. It’s just around the corner. I teach aerobic fitness classes and am also a personal trainer.”
“I can see that you’re a good role model for your clientele; you look perfectly fit!”
“Thank you!”
“Now let’s get to the reason I came to see you.”
Amber