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“Is there somewhere we can talk, DeeDee?”
“Um, sure. I’ve got an office behind the front desk. I suppose I don’t really have to worry about people checking in or out right now, do I?”
“I wouldn’t think so, and I’ll try to make this quick. I just need a little background info.”
DeeDee led him back to her office, which was full of antiques and memorabilia, but also had a large safe on one wall. “I keep money and receipts in there in case of fire and so I don’t have to go to the bank on a daily basis.”
“So, you told the other officer that Mr. Thompson was not registered as a guest.”
“No, and I have no idea what he was doing in Jessica’s room or how he got there. The person who booked the room for the weekend canceled. I can’t tell you what a relief it was when Jess called and said she wanted the room for at least a week. She’s a famous author. I was planning to use the fact that she stayed here in my marketing and brochures—maybe even get a picture of her.”
“Didn’t you think it was a little strange that she wanted a room for a week? Was she having renovations done to her home?”
DeeDee laughed. “Oh heavens no. Jessica completely re-did the place when she moved back to Badger’s Drift. The Murdoch Mansion—that’s what we call it—has been in her family for generations. When her uncle died and left it to her, she moved back and started to renovate. She only used local people and tried to locally source all of the materials. People were real grateful for that. Then she threw an open house for the whole town. It was so much fun. She’s really well-liked by folks here in Badger’s Drift.”
“Then why get a room?” asked Thorn.
“Jessica said she needed to shake things up and get away, but was too tired to travel. Coming up here seemed like a good idea. I have to tell you being able to say that a famous novelist came up here and wrote part of her book will be good for business.”
“What about Mr. Thompson?”
“There’s a lot of people who had a lot of bad things to say about him. I’d say he had more enemies than friends.”
“Like who?”
“Well, there’s his soon-to-be ex-wife; his former mistress; his former business partner—not the same woman; and his chief competitor. And he was just kind of mean-spirited and nasty, do you know what I mean? I have to tell you he never tried to rent a room from me—too cheap, if you ask my opinion—but I don’t think I would have rented one to him even if he had asked.”
“Any specific reason other than he was mean?”
“Mean and a little handsy. He always passed it off as if it hadn’t been intentional, but I know more than one woman in town who wouldn’t work for him.”
“Who found the body?”
“That would be me. I’d been in the kitchen, prepping food. I went outside to stretch and get some fresh air. I walked around to see if Jess was back from her walk and saw the French doors open. Now I know Jessica; there’s no way she’d leave those doors open and let all the heat out. She’s got an old house, too. She knows what it costs to keep them comfortable—even if you have a lot of added insulation. Anyway, I walked up to close them, not lock them, but just close them and I saw him.”
“Did you go inside?”
“No sir. I saw the dead body and recognized it as Mr. Thompson.”
“How did you know he was dead?”
“I could see he wasn’t breathing, and I called to him several times. When he didn’t move or answer, I called the police. Do you think he might have been alive? Maybe I should have tried to help.”
Thorn shook his head. “No. I don’t think that would have been a good idea. My guess is he was already dead. We’ll need the medical examiner to confirm that, but I would be very surprised if he concludes that the time of death wasn’t before you spotted him.”
DeeDee brought her hand up to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. Thank you for saying that. I started second-guessing myself wondering if I could have helped him.”
“You did help him, DeeDee. You called the cops so we can figure out what happened, and if it’s foul play, we can find whoever did it.”
“Do you think he was murdered?”
“Way too early to tell if his death was even suspicious, as I don’t know his medical condition. We’ve called to get a plastic tent set up until our forensics people are done. I’ll ask them to focus on the French doors first so we can get them closed.”
“That would be nice, but if you need to leave them open, do it. I can lose a little heat if it’ll help catch a killer.”
And that was what he loved about working in small towns. Sure, you had to work your way through gossip and petty squabbles, but mostly people didn’t want people getting away with major crimes and were willing to step up and do what was necessary.
He doubted very much that DeeDee was involved, and he didn’t want to believe Jessica was, but he would need to eliminate her as a suspect before he asked for her assistance. He knew asking her was just an excuse to get close to her. The police department—such as it was—seemed more than willing to do anything he needed, but for all he knew, they too could be potential suspects. No, better to keep his notes on his personal laptop and play his cards close to his vest.
