Upload to Murder: An Ember Oaks Mystery, #3

By Audrey Claire

Deena is taking a computer class to improve her skills for her job at the supercenter. She meets Tiberias "TG" Gregory, a nice man who overindulges in sweets. Deena learns later that TG is also one of her garbage collectors, and she frequently offers him and his coworkers treats she gets from her best friend Bih.

 

One night TG calls Deena for help. Deena assumes TG is ill from eating too much. She runs to his rescue only to find TG apparently murdered! But TG's not dead. The person who was killed was TG's twin brother. Now Deena and TG have to figure out who wants TG gone. The truth has to do with a certain cat video uploaded to the internet. 

 

Bih is having fun preparing for a TV baking competition filmed in her cafe, while Deena worries that Bih's beau is hiding something important from her. Things are getting serious between Deena and Sheriff Liam, but she wonders how long their relationship will last when she's running around town with a man who faked his death. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Audrey Claire
• Release date: Jan 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393458753

Book preview

Chapter 1

G od, you’ve got to be kidding me! Five pages? Karen Krinkle sank low in her chair, her bum coming perilously close to the edge. Deena Johnson feared she’d keep going and fall on the floor.

Groans at the instructor’s announcement about their assignment rose all around the class. However, excitement bubbled in in Deena. Back in grade school, English was her strongest subject. She loved writing although she had taken a different creative outlet in life. The required paper didn’t daunt her one bit.

What does learning about computers have to do with writing a paper about a firehouse? one of the other students complained.

A chorus of agreements echoed the question.

The instructor, a nice woman Deena liked from the first moment she met her a couple weeks ago, smiled like she knew a secret that they didn’t. This assignment is just my way of encouraging you to get to know each other, to talk face to face. Because believe me, once you go down that road to getting savvy with computers, you will spend less and less time interacting in real life and more and more time in the digital world. It’s a tragedy in my humble opinion.

Why are you teaching us then? This was a young man in the back, who Deena observed to have little respect for authority or his elders.

Deena gazed at her laptop. On her birthday, her best friend Bih had presented her with a notepad, stickers, and various other office supplies, which she had printed with Deena’s own artwork. Deena couldn’t have been more pleased with the gift. So she added one of the stickers, displaying the landscape she painted of the biggest river in Ember Oaks, to the back of the laptop.

The image on the outside of the laptop was rivaled only by the one inside. On the first day of class, they learned how to change what was called the computer desktop. Deena was thrilled to learn she could display a picture of her kids Dee-Dee and Zack to enjoy every time she turned on the computer.

Of course, the instructor had helped by scanning everyone’s pictures. Deena wasn’t clear on what the woman did in that regard, but she’d said they would all learn later. Just being able to look in the faces of the loves of her life made all the difference.

On the other hand, the laptop reminded her of the monthly payment she made in order to buy it—or was it called rent-to-own? Finances were tight, and every cent mattered. Learning about computers was essential to her job at the supercenter. So far, she was able to work almost exclusively offline, as the instructor called it, but that wouldn’t go on forever. She would not lose this position under any circumstances.

Deena, came a low whisper from her right.

She glanced over at her neighbor and smiled. Of average height, rotund, and one of the nicest people she could ever know, Tiberias Gregory was the first classmate Deena met when she started the computer class. He loved sweet treats so much that the tie he insisted on wearing daily despite the lack of dress code for the class, was always stained with a drop of something.

Smooth cocoa brown skin with few wrinkles made Tiberias’ age hard to guess, but she figured he must be around forty or so. Tiberias, or TG as he asked her to call him because he hated his name, was so sunny and friendly. Deena considered him a friend from day one.

TG dragged his desk, with a very loud and rude noise, across a narrow aisle to bump her desk a bit too roughly. He cast her an apologetic smile and one to the class.

I want to show you the new kitten videos, he offered.

Oh, good. What are they up to today? Deena liked the videos Tiberias shared. She never knew a website existed that would allow regular individuals to upload their videos. At first she couldn’t imagine why one would want to, until TG showed her the cats. Those types of videos seemed to be all TG was interested in, although he informed her the video subjects were vast and wide.

My Max would be jealous if he knew I cheated on him with the cats.

If you don’t mind, TG, the instructor said with patience. I’d like to explain the assignment before you do your own thing during class.

Everyone burst out laughing. TG ducked his head and apologized before holding his phone in his lap. As he fingered the phone nonstop, Deena knew TG didn’t hear a word the instructor said. The man was obsessed. She wondered that he didn’t have a house full of cats of his own then recalled he was allergic just like her late husband Russell. Poor dear. The poor dear of course was TG and not her scoundrel of a husband. Sometimes she had trouble keeping herself from being thankful he had gone on to his eternal reward.

Don’t worry, everyone, the instructor told them. You don’t have to write your paper alone. I want you to break up into groups of three or four.

Karen cheered and studied every face in the room.

The instructor went on. Exchange phone numbers or email addresses, those of you who have them, to make it easier to coordinate when you’ll visit the fire station together.

Buzzing voices started all around the room. TG widened his eyes at Deena, and she laughed, patting his arm. I’ll gladly team up with you, TG. Let me give you my number.

Me too, Karen begged, and she dropped into the seat ahead of Deena. Her pink denim purse remained on the desk she abandoned, along with the pink denim jacket that sat on the back of the chair. Her only concern was the phone gripped in manicured red-tipped fingers. "I saw you smile when that woman told us we have to write a paper. I can spot an egghead when I see one, so I’m with you."

Deena flushed. Thanks, I think. But I simply enjoy the English language, and literature to some degree. I don’t know that I can do well on this paper anymore than the next person.

Well, you can do better than me. Karen looked around, long brunette hair swinging left and right. She spotted her purse, grabbed it and returned to the seat nearest Deena. "Ugh, it was hard enough knowing I had to take this stupid class. And she wants us to write?"

Dear, you really should respect your elders, Deena chided her. Plus, she’ll grade us in the end. I’d stay on her good side. At least, that’s what I intend to do. I’m not sure about this thirty words a minute typing speed we’ll have to accomplish by the end of the course.

Deena rubbed her wrist. Lately, it had been paining her, along with her hips and knees. The closer she hurtled toward sixty, the more her body wanted to beak down. Fifty-eight sometimes felt like ninety-eight.

Karen waved off her warning to respect others. I’m here because I have to be, and I’m not playing nice.

Deena sat quietly looking at her.

Karen stuttered. Well…I mean…I’ll work hard to do my part. You don’t have to worry about that.

Karen dug into her purse and pulled out a wrapped piece of candy. The instructor speaking meant nothing to her as she headed to the trashcan to toss the wrapper.

A couple of students across from Deena leaned in close to each other and whispered. Their voices upon occasion rose too loudly to remain inconspicuous. Deena decided to ignore them and used one finger to peck at her keyboard. She tried her best to keep class notes in a notes app, but handwriting was faster.

The words on the laptop screen blurred a little. She found her reading glasses in her purse and slipped them on her nose. Not much better. Gosh, when had her eyes grown worse? In the last year? She used to brag to others that even at her age, she still had excellent eyesight and hearing.

Oh dear, I think I might need stronger reading glasses, she mused to herself. I can’t make out these darn words from the last time we were in class, and I wrote them.

Deena, is there something I can help you with? the instructor asked.

Um.

A sea of younger faces turned toward her. Her stomach muscles knotted.

Not at this time, she said at last and figured she would visit the vision department at the supercenter where she worked. One of the reading glasses they sold there without a prescription should be fine.

After struggling through the lesson, Deena breathed a sigh of relief when the first break was called. She yawned and stretched then excused herself to step into the hall. She checked her phone for any missed calls or texts and smiled as her heart warmed. Liam had left a voicemail and phoned.

She laid a hand over her chest and willed herself to calm down. A woman of fifty-eight years should not be acting like a schoolgirl with a crush just because the town sheriff liked her.

She chuckled under her breath. Like me? He went and told me he loves me. Okay, calm down before you have a heart attack in this hall, Deena.

After the call to Liam went straight to voicemail, she shot him a text. Still in class. Will call later tonight.

As she prepared to go back into the class and find the slice of carrot cake and half sandwich of turkey she brought that evening, her cell phone rang. Excitement bubbled inside and dimmed just a little when she realized the call wasn’t Liam but Bih.

Hi, Bih. Perfect timing. We’re on break right now.

I know, my love. You gave me your class schedule, remember?

Deena chuckled. You make it sound like I’m a regular college student and not just taking a cheap continuing education course.

You’re at the community college, aren’t you? I say own it.

Deena shook her head. I don’t know what to do with you, Bih.

Appreciate me. Okay, I have great news. I’m so excited I could burst. But first, tell me. Did you like the sandwich I made you?

If you keep feeding me the way you do, I won’t fit into my clothes, and then my expenses will increase because I need a new wardrobe.

Bih uttered a few words in her native tongue. Being from Cameroon, she spoke French. Deena didn’t understand anything more than bonjour. That didn’t stop Bih from lapsing into the language whenever she was at a loss for English words to express herself. Plus, when she grew excited or angry, her accent thickened until she might as well be speaking some foreign language for all Deena understood.

Deena, you are so thin, I wonder if I need to feed you more.

I’m quite alright with my figure. Mostly. As to the sandwich, I was just about to eat it. I’m used to having my dinner late because of the flexible schedule at the supercenter, so I appreciate you looking out for me. You’re a true friend, Bih. I mean that.

I will always have your back.

What’s your news?

Bih squealed, causing Deena to draw the phone away from her ear and wince. When her friend calmed down a bit, she listened.

You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you.

Deena laughed.

We’re going to be on TV!

Deena’s mouth fell open. Really?

Yes, it’s just a local tiny station, but still. TV! They’re starting up a baking competition show, and they want to film it at the Java Crème Café.

Wow.

I know. I can’t believe it. My shop.

My dear, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Although I’ve seen those shows on TV with the baking competitions. The contestants almost have their own mini kitchens. Does your café have the room?

We’ll make it work. Trust me. This is a dream come true. But listen, I’ll let you go. I know you only have a little time to eat, and I want you to savor the sandwich I made you. Plus the cake.

Thanks, Bih. I’ll see you tomorrow before I go in to work, okay?

Okay. And I’ll bake you—

Bih.

—something delicious.

Deena gave up trying to convince Bih to stop trying to feed her. What was the point? Bih did what Bih wanted to do at all times. No one got in her way once she had set her mind on a path. Deena couldn’t complain really because Bih’s feeding her lowered her grocery bill. Between her best friend and Liam, Deena’s wages just covered the mortgage, the utilities, and the laptop.

Deena, there you are.

She turned to find TG coming toward her. He mopped his sweating brow with a balled up tissue.

I was just coming to find you to show you the latest videos. And…I was just wondering…

She knew why he hesitated and what he wanted. Laughing, she walked with him back into the classroom. In answer to your question, TG, yes, Bih gave me something delicious. Let’s eat it together.

Chapter 2

A lright, Max, slow down. Deena held on tighter to the banister as she descended the steps to the first floor. She shook her head, watching her naughty puppy wag his tail and bark. Each time his voice erupted, his body jerked about. She found it comical.

Another bark, and he jumped up on the front door.

No, Max, you know I don’t like that. You’ve already scratched off all the paint in that spot.

She sighed when he ignored her and jumped up again. There was no getting him to listen when he was worked up. Liam had told her she was too soft on him and that if she would be firmer, she would keep the pup in hand. Deena couldn’t find it in herself to be too cross with Max. After all, he was her only companion since her son and daughter lived away from home.

I suppose I should stop thinking of you as a pup. You’re all grown up now—although still silly.

She reached the ground floor, but rather than open the front door, she turned toward the kitchen. When the whir of the trash truck started, she increased her pace. The last thing she wanted to do was miss them, especially since she had a full can and hadn’t taken it down to the curb.

In the kitchen, she yanked the refrigerator open and brought out the cherry pie Bih had given her. Three hefty slices covered a paper plate, and she wrapped them in plastic wrap. A shout out front of her house took her to a jog. Max tangled in her legs barking and carrying on, almost tripping her.

I know, Max, settle down before you make me break a hip. Honestly!

She threw the front door wide, and Max bounded out. He didn’t get far but squatted on the lawn to do his business. Deena decided to ignore the scamp. She looked toward the street and sure enough the trash truck was stopped one house down.

Oh no.

Deena, I got it.

In the opposite direction, a trash man headed across her neighbor’s yard. He swiped her trashcan from its place near the back fence.

Oh no, you shouldn’t be coming up here to get my trash. I’ll wheel it down. She hurried forward. I’m just a tad bit late. I’m so sorry.

The Latino man with the hefty build waved off her protests. No problem. I’m glad to help out, especially since it looks like you have something for us?

He sounded hopeful as his gaze lit on the plate in her hand. She chuckled. Yes, I’ve got pie here for you fellas. Where’s TG?

In the truck. He’s already had like six ladies give him treats, and his stomach is all torn up.

Deena’s mouth fell open. Six?

I don’t know why they keep feeding him. Probably because he thinks every cake, pie, and pastry is delicious. I’ll be the first to tell you, they’re not!

Deena suppressed a chuckle at his passionate denial. She followed him to the truck. Of course, she knew many of the ladies on the sanitation team’s route gave them treats and gifts. Deena was of the opinion that there wasn’t a nicer group of men in all of Ember Oaks. Because of that, she loved feeding them and giving them holiday gifts at the appropriate time.

When TG’s route changed recently to her area, they were both thrilled. It was a delightful coincidence since they had just met in class for the first time a couple weeks ago. Since then, Deena made sure to be outside to greet TG and his coworkers.

Deena reached the truck and looked up to find TG sitting in the cab moaning. TG, oh dear, are you okay?

Brown eyes that almost looked like Max’s when he begged for treats, gazed down at her. No, I ate too much, or maybe one of the slices of cake didn’t agree with me. Normally, that many slices doesn’t do this.

She blinked in surprise. "You ate six pieces of cake?"

No. She imagined if his face weren’t so brown, she might see him blush. Not all six… I have some—

He let out a wail of pain, and her heart broke.

You just wait right there. I have just the thing to help your stomach. Half turning, she recalled the plate in her hand. I wonder if I shouldn’t just take this back inside.

Don’t do that. TG reached a hand out the window, but his arm dropped, and he bumped his forehead on the door. He rolled his head to the side so she could see his face, and his voice came out in a pitiful moan. I can have it when I feel better. Your treats are the best.

They’re not mine. Bih makes… Oh never mind that. Let me get the medicine.

There was no sense arguing with him that he didn’t need the pie. Ever since she met him, TG didn’t slow down on the sweets. She wondered how much regular food he ate other than sweets. TG and Penny, Bih’s business partner, were two peas in a pod.

Deena passed on the pie to TG’s coworker and ran into the house to get the medicine. She handed the bottle and spoon to TG and fussed over him until he downed it.

You can keep it, TG. Another dose in four hours will do you good.

He shook his head. No, you might need it. I’ll buy something later. Thanks for looking out for me, Deena. You’re a great woman.

I appreciate the compliment. Feel better, and I beg you, slow down on all the treats. Will you promise me that?

He looked stricken, and before he could answer, his partner blasted the horn once and drove off. Deena sighed. She hadn’t gotten through to TG, but she wouldn’t give up. One had to look after one’s health because it was the only thing money couldn’t fix when things went too far.

Who am I to lecture anyone, when I sometimes just grab that processed stuff at the supercenter when I’m too tired to cook?

Chiding herself for poor choices had to wait. Max charged out into the road just when a car was coming down it. Deena’s heart stopped, and she screamed his name. The driver slammed on the breaks. Max slid to a halt, looked back at her, and then continued on.

Max, you get back here this instant. Are you trying to kill me?’ She ran out to the road, still clutching the medicine bottle and the spoon. I’m so sorry, sir."

The driver, someone Deena had seen in the area but didn’t know personally, lowered his window to shout at her. Keep him on a leash! I’m not going to be responsible if I hit him.

Yes, of course. Her throat closed at the mere thought of Max getting hurt. Shame washed over her as she reached the opposite sidewalk that her negligence could cause Max to be hurt. She vowed to do better.

A scream caught her attention. You leave Mittens alone. Do you hear me?

Deena moaned. Mrs. Margaux, her ninety something year old neighbor, had come out of her house wearing a bathrobe and carrying a grocery bag. She toddled toward the side of her house, and Deena hurried after her. Barking reached Deena from somewhere at the back of the property.

Wait, Mrs. Margaux, let me take care of it, Deena called. Don’t upset yourself.

The older woman glared over her shoulder at Deena. And let you encourage your dog to eat Mittens? Never! I won’t stand for it.

You know I wouldn’t do that.

"Ha! I’ve had your number, missy, for going on thirty