Death of the Eviction Man: An Erika Mudrose Mystery Novella

By Gayle Tiller

It's the recession and things aren't going well for Erika Mudrose, who is a struggling forty-something private investigator in the fictitious Chatlyn County in Northern California. She's operating out of her condo because she's been forced to shut down her office. She's also supporting her unemployed boyfriend, who has been laid off from his Silicon Valley high tech job. On top of this, Erika is being harassed by a former client, who wants her money back.

Things look bleak until Erika is hired by Liz Pullroy, who wants Erika to track down the murderer of her husband Calvin Norwich, who is known as the eviction man. Each year, Calvin evicts hundreds of tenants. As a result, he has lots of enemies. On top of this, Calvin has a mistress who wanted him to leave Liz.

It doesn't help that Liz is extremely jealous and had a motive to kill Calvin. As a result, Erika isn't convinced that Liz is innocent. Yet, with lots of suspects, there's the possibility that Calvin's mistress or one of his enemies killed him.

Hopefully, Erika will uncover evidence that someone other than Liz killed Calvin. And if she doesn't, Liz must be the murderer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gayle Tiller
• Release date: Aug 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463001356

Gayle Tiller

Gayle Tiller's latest fiction endeavor is "Death of the Eviction Man: An Erika Mudrose Mystery Novella." She is also the author of the suspense novel "24 Hour Lottery Ticket," the mystery novel "No One Is Innocent: A Jasmine Myers Mystery," and the novella "The Ghost and the Document Reviewer: A Mystery Novella." She's also written three short stories. Ms. Tiller is mixed with African-American and Ashkenazi Jewish and she grew up in California. She enjoys learning about her family’s diverse heritage through her hobby genealogy. She also likes oral storytelling, talk radio, and politics.

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Death of the Eviction Man: An Erika Mudrose Mystery Novella

Gayle Tiller

Copyright © 2018 by Gayle Tiller

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this novella may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, please email [e-mail].

Chapter One

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

My business phone rang. I stared at the digital clock next to my bed. It flashed 1:34 a.m. with way too much brightness for that time of night.

My boyfriend Darryl turned over with a groan and asked groggily, Babe, do you want me to get that?

The call was probably from my former client Suzanne. A few months ago, she had hired me to find her long-lost daughter Catalina who had vanished more than twenty years ago. I had looked everywhere: online, newspapers, death indexes, and the courts. To my chagrin, I couldn’t find one clue on what had happened to her.

Suzanne wanted her money back. I had refused because I had done my job. In the beginning, she would call during regular business hours and make her demands. Now, she was calling at all times of the night, and she’d even posted a few mean online reviews. If her harassment didn’t stop soon, I might be forced to get a restraining order against her.

Check the caller ID, I ordered.

It’s blocked, Darryl replied as he leaned over to see the screen.

Then let it go to voicemail.

Okay, babe.

The phone rang two more times. My answering machine clicked on. The caller hung up.

Good. It must’ve been a wrong number.

The phone rang again. Goddamn it. Why couldn’t Suzanne leave me alone?

Babe, I think they really want to talk, Darryl said.

Go answer it then, I replied. Tell Suzanne that I don’t take calls outside of normal business hour. No, better yet, tell her I’m not here, that I’m out of town or something.

Darryl nodded. He picked up the phone and mumbled hello. He spoke with the caller for a few seconds and turned to me. This lady isn’t Suzanne. It’s somebody else. She wants help on a case. What should I tell her?

How could he ask me such an asinine question? A case meant money. Hand me the phone.

Darryl nodded and gave me the phone.

I cleared my voice as I switched on a small lamp next to my bed. This is Erika Mudrose speaking. How can I help you?

Ma’am, my name is Liz – Liz Pullroy. I’m so sorry for waking you in the middle of the night. . . I was just going to leave a message for you to call me in the morning. I really need your help.

I rubbed my forehead. The name Pullroy didn’t sound familiar at all. No problem. What do you need help with? I asked.

Liz sighed. My husband was found last Thursday with a bullet in his head.

Ma’am, I’m really sorry about your husband, I said in a somber voice. I wondered about the lack of emotion in her voice. I then realized that she could still be in shock. Where was he found?

At the Criteway Hotel. You know the one near the Chatlyn County airport.

Criteway hosted lavish events and business conferences. It was built two years after Chatlyn had been become California’s newest county. Back in the seventies, a coalition of social justice groups decided they wanted to honor the memory of the late civil rights leader Sonia Chatlyn who had been gunned down by her ex-husband during a domestic violence fight. Ms. Chatlyn was known for her activism in San Joaquin, Santa Clara, and Alameda Counties in Northern California. As a result, the coalition placed an initiative on the ballot to take unincorporated portions of these counties so that Chatlyn County could be formed.

A bitter election ensued. The land developers and traditionalists opposed the initiative. They outspent the coalition by more than a million dollars. Nonetheless, voters were not persuaded. The initiative overwhelmingly passed by a two-to-one margin.

Was your husband there on business? I asked.

Hell no, Liz answered. That’s where he and his slut girlfriend normally met for their Thursday night dalliance.

Dalliance? That was so classic – a man cheating on his wife. Maybe this was why the woman wasn’t too sorry he was dead. Did his girlfriend find him?

Nah, it was someone from the hotel’s staff.

His girlfriend wasn’t at the hotel when they found your husband? I asked.

The phone was silent for a few seconds. I really don’t know, Liz finally answered. The police are looking into it.

All right. Who do you think killed him?

Could be the slut. But it might be someone he evicted.

Do you and your husband own rental property? I asked.

No, we don’t have any tenants at all. My husband’s a lawyer and he evicts tenants.

What’s your husband’s name?

Calvin.

Calvin Pullroy? I asked.

No, it’s Calvin Norwich.

I sighed. Calvin Norwich was known as Chatlyn County’s Eviction Man. Calvin worked for the banks and property owners. He ran a law practice that evicted hundreds of tenants each year. Calvin specialized in evicting former owners of foreclosed properties.

I see. Can we meet in the morning? I asked.

No, I don’t want to wait that long, Liz protested. The police have asked me some really strange questions. I think they may try to blame my husband’s murder on me. I need help with clearing my name.

I ran my hand over my unruly hair with another sigh. So much for being sorry that she had woken me up. For the police, the spouse is always the first suspect in a murder investigation.

There’s no way I’d ever kill my husband. He might be a bastard but killing him just isn’t my style.

I believe you, I lied. I pulled the receiver away from my mouth as I unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. Recovered, I admonished the woman firmly, But you really should talk to a lawyer about your legal rights.

I went to law school. So, I know my rights, Liz hissed.

You’re a lawyer like your husband? I asked.

No, never passed the bar. I’m in public relations. Work for a nonprofit that helps midlife women in crisis.

I reflected. Big murder case. Jealous wife, girlfriend, and evicted tenants. Lots of players. On top of this, the wife works for a nonprofit. Maybe I could make some money and do some good. Where do you want to meet? I asked.

At your office, she replied. You’re downtown, right?

My office? I had shut it down a couple of months ago because business had been slow. Right now, I was operating out of my living room.

How about if we meet at your house? I asked.

That’ll work, Liz replied. She dictated her address and gave me directions.

I’ll see you in a bit.

After we said our goodbyes, I hung up the phone. I stared at the phone for a couple of seconds, then got up from bed and switched on a larger lamp so I could see the clothes in my closet.

Darryl looked up at