Your Secrets are Exposed: The River City Mysteries, #5

By Kat Jorgensen

A marriage proposal, the promise of a new career, and the future she's always dreamed of await intrepid amateur sleuth, Becca Reynolds.  But when a dead body is found outside the psychiatric offices where she works, and her husband-to-be is accused of the murder, Becca knows it's up to her to clear his name and expose the killer. As the case intensifies and clues are uncovered, Becca realizes that some of those closest to her have been keeping secrets.  Secrets that may impact the case.  Will Becca get to have her happily ever after or will a murderer outwit her and spoil everything? 

 

The police call her a Murder Magnet.  It's a bum rap.  But people do die when she's around.

 

This is a stand alone mystery.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kat Jorgensen
• Release date: Apr 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201062361

Book preview

Chapter 1

The big day has finally arrived at Daley & Palmer, the psychiatric firm where I work in Richmond, Virginia. I tend to get wound up over events, but I am uber excited about our grand reopening. I’m Becca Reynolds, sole office support for the firm.

Dr. Dick Daley is our head guru. He and I don’t always see eye to eye, but we’ve been through a lot in the year or so I’ve been employed. There is no longer a Dr. Palmer. There once was, but that is an unfortunate story better left for another time. Somehow her name is still part of the practice. I have no idea why. Dr. Dick doesn’t confide in me.

Connie O’Toole took Marcy Palmer’s place. Connie is a throwback to peace and love and represents earth mothers everywhere. I like her a lot.

Our newest therapist is Dr. Paul Hoffmann from St. Louis. Paul and I might have a thing going on. No, it’s not my imagination. We really do. He even moved to River City, as Richmond is affectionately known, to be near me. And that’s a very good thing. I am totally in love with him, and I think he feels the same about me.

For once in my life, things seem to be looking up for me.

Daley & Palmer is where I spend most of my waking hours. Dr. Dick, as I affectionately refer to Dr. Daley because he can be such a dick sometimes, insists I’m the office receptionist. But we all know better. As I said, I’m the sole support person for the three therapists in the firm. It’s because of me that things run so well. My real title is office manager, even though Dr. Dick pays me like I truly am the receptionist.

Whatever.

It is just one of our many sticking points.

Recently, our next-door neighbors at work, Temp$ for Hire, moved to another location in the building. Since we needed more square footage to grow our practice, we jumped on the chance to expand into their former office space.

Much to Dr. Daley’s dislike, we’ve been closed for several weeks while the renovations have been carried out. But today is our grand unveiling.

Since we’ve been back in town from the mental health conference we attended in St. Louis, I’ve been the liaison between the renovation team and the therapists. It has not been pleasant. Connie and Paul have been wonderful to work with. To say Dr. Dick has been nit-picky is a major understatement and a disservice to nit-pickers everywhere. The man gives new meaning to the phrase anal-retentive.

Paul and I are meeting Dr. Dick and Connie O’T. here at the office this evening to do a final walk-through of the suite and ensure that everything is in place for our open house which is scheduled to happen in just a few hours.

Earlier today, I made a quickie visit to our new work digs to make sure everything on the construction punch list was punched and in order. If I do say so myself, the space is looking stunning. I’m very proud of what’s been accomplished in a very short amount of time.

Yay me!

But Dr. Dick has the final say, and trust me, he’s not easy to please. But even he should be happy today. I can already feel big-time kudos coming my way. When he glowingly describes how wonderful I am and what an asset I am to the firm, I will try to maintain an appropriate humble demeanor. It’s been a long time coming. And I will savor his words of praise like you wouldn’t believe.

Calm down, Becca. You’ve done everything humanly possible to make this go perfectly. Paul hugged me, and I felt the warmth of his love and support envelope me. We stood at the entrance to the building. The evening had turned cold, and I could feel the lingering nip of winter still at my neck.

You know I won’t rest easy until Dr. Dick gives his official approval.

You can’t let Dick spoil your accomplishment. You know how he can be. The new space is beautiful. First-rate. Just what Dick wanted. Now relax. The hard part is over.

If only that was the case. I’ve learned in my short life that things rarely go as planned. No matter how hard I try, things usually end up majorly screwed. But maybe this time my luck has changed.

One can hope.

Dr. Dick and Connie O’Toole both pulled into the parking lot within minutes of each other. We had all decided to enter the building en masse this evening so we could behold our newly completed space together.

Since it was after normal business hours, I entered the building code that would allow us building access. Paul held the door open for Connie and me, but true to form, Dr. Daley barged ahead of us and entered first.

Paul shook his head. He had a lot to learn about working with the demanding, uptight psychiatrist. But if anyone could handle the head of the firm, it was Paul. He was wonderful. And I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with him. Although it has skewed my thinking some lately.

I’m excited to see our new offices. Thank you, Becca, for being our point person. I know it’s been a lot of work for you. Connie squeezed my arm and pride surged through my body.

True to form, Dr. Daley remained silent.

As we turned to the right to enter the hallway that led to our suite of offices, Dr. Dick suddenly stopped. Connie and I almost plowed into this back.

Dick, you should have brake lights on your coat if you’re planning on stopping short like that. Connie affectionately patted Dr. D. on the arm and urged him forward. But Dr. Dick was not having any of it. Dick, you’re holding up progress. Connie tried to maneuver around him, but the hallway wasn’t overly wide, and Dr. Daley had spread out his arms in his stoppage. For goodness sake, what is it, Dick? Connie’s usually calm voice had an edge to it.

Miss Reynolds, I thought I told you to have all construction materials removed. Dr. Dick rarely called me by my given name and tonight was no exception.

You did, and I did. It wasn’t pleasant talking to the back of Dr. Daley’s rigid form.

Then why is that lumpy tarp in front of our new entrance?

I jockeyed around Connie and dipped under Dr. Dick’s outstretched arms to find out what he was referring to. Gee, I don’t know. It wasn’t here earlier. The guys had already finished up. There’s no reason for it to be here.

In my take-charge mode, I hustled down the hallway to where the tarp was positioned. Dr. D. was right. It was lumped right at the door to our pretty new suite, and it made entry impossible.

This wasn’t good.

As I drew nearer, an unwanted premonition came over me. But I pushed the bad thoughts out of my head. I was simply nervous and had become over-wrought in my desire that everything must be perfect.

There was no way the tarp was anything but what it was-a leftover piece of material from the work done to our suite. Maybe the cleaners had found it and placed it outside our door for removal later. Yes, that must be it. I gave my wild imagination a shake of my head and edged closer. I would just shift this out of the way and move it to the end of the hall near the rear exit. Then I’d call and get someone to take it away. By now, the construction foreman was on speed dial. He’d handle it for me.

With my slight hesitation to think this all through, Dr. Daley had moved past me. Not waiting, he reached down and uncovered the tarp.

Miss Reynolds, why do you hate me? Why are you single-handedly trying to destroy me and the reputation of this firm? Dr. Daley pointed to what was beneath the construction cover.

Ice formed in my chest at his tone. I didn’t want to look at what Dr. Dick was pointing to. But I did. And I froze, unable to move or speak.

In my paralyzed state, I felt Paul and Connie edge around me to see what Dr. Daley indicated.

This woman is dead. Dr. Daley announced as he fully revealed the body beneath the khaki canvas.

I know her, Paul announced.

It was the last thing I remembered hearing.

Chapter 2

B ecca, can you hear me? I felt strong arms lift me to a sitting position. Both Paul and Connie O’T. were near me on the floor of the hallway. We made a tight little trio there on the carpet.

Paul? As disoriented as I was, I tried to kick my mind into gear. It must have been the stress I was under lately trying to please Dr. Dick and his many last-minute renovation details. There was no way there was a dead body at the entrance to our suite. It was just my overactive imagination once again taking over. Phew. That was a major relief.

Sit up slowly. Breathe deeply. It’s going to be alright. Paul’s soothing tones reached me, and I relaxed. I’m sure everyone wondered why I had fainted. I’d have to explain myself.

You all are going to laugh. I thought there was a dead person under the tarp. I know. I know. I’ve been working too hard. Connie, maybe we can talk about this in our next session. I’ve seen one dead body too many, and now I’m seeing them where none exist. I started to stand up, but Paul’s strong arms kept me in place.

About that, Becca. Paul looked at me with a serious expression on his handsome face. You did see a body.

What? No! It just couldn’t be. I refused to believe I’d stumbled across another dead person. It simply wasn’t possible.

I tried to look past Paul and Connie to where Dr. Dick was standing. But they continued to block my view.

You both need to move and let me up. When they didn’t budge, I pushed them out of my way. In my hysteria, I must not have known my own strength, because I successfully got to my feet and made it past their informal blockade.

Dr. Dick had his phone out and stared at it. We need to call someone.

When he made no attempt to punch in a number, I swung into action. Ryder will know what to do. I moved past Dr. Dick to Ryder’s suite across the hall from ours and tugged on the door. Locked. Then it hit me.

Ex-cop and sometimes CPA, R.J. Ryder, was no longer a tenant in the building. He’d moved out right after we all returned from our Missouri trip. The suite was now occupied by an older gentleman who ran a charitable group. Jones was his last name. Even if he was in, he’d be no help to us with our current situation.

We need to call the police. Connie, ever capable, pressed 911 and was connected to help. Dr. Dick continued to stand with his phone in his hand completely immobilized. Yes, we will stay right here. No, we haven’t touched anything except the tarp and the body to check for vitals. Connie clicked off her phone and went to Dr. Dick. She used her therapist's voice to try to soothe him, but it didn’t seem to work.

You know her? I asked Paul as I peered down at the body.

He nodded and then walked away. How did he know someone in our city? He’d just moved here a few weeks ago.

The walls were doing that wonka wonka thing they did before I felt a fainting episode coming on. I reached out and steadied myself. My breath was ragged, and my vision was blurry. This couldn’t be good. I needed fresh air, and I needed it right now.

I turned away from the death scene and headed for the exit, grabbing onto the walls to steady myself as I went.

In the lobby, I found Paul seated on one of the two benches. I sat down next to him.

Who is she? I managed in between ragged breaths.

Elise Weiss, a family friend. I can’t believe it. He stared at his folded hands in his lap.

She’s number ten.

Paul eyed me with horror. Sometimes I had that effect on people.

You really need to stop counting the dead bodies you encounter. Paul shook his head and switched his focus to his shoes. I had nothing better to do, so I checked out his shoes, too. Black wingtips. The chosen footwear of most well-dressed therapists.

A police car complete with flashing lights but no siren rolled to a stop at the building entrance. I pushed the button to allow the officer to enter our secure, or not so secure, building. After the usual formalities, I showed him the death scene and went back to my perch on the bench beside Paul. As for Paul, he hadn’t moved. Clearly, he was in shock.

Time seemed to flash by in a major blur as all sorts of officials entered the building.

Connie, being Connie, had gently reminded all of us associated with Daley & Palmer of the grand reopening that could not take place. So despite our shock and dismay, we were all on our phones letting our guests know we were having some unforeseen events that were causing us to postpone our big event.

Dr. Dick had made each of us swear on our lives that we would not divulge any information about another death connected to our practice. He had suggested instead a water leak if pressed for details.

Connie had appointed herself to take care of the many officials that had come and gone since we’d discovered the body. She was a natural and things were moving along smoothly. At least until the detective in charge showed up.

Rebecca Reynolds. Why am I not surprised to see you here? Detective Tom Donovan of our local police force was about as happy to see me as I was to see him.

We had history. Major history with dead bodies. Of all of the detectives in River City, why did it have to be Tom Donovan who was assigned to this case?

Wish I could say it was good to see you, Donovan, but it’s not. I drew my coat tighter to me as a blast of cold air hit me from the open door.

Murder magnet does come to my mind each time I see you, Miss Reynolds. Why is that, I wonder? Oh yes, because of all of the dead bodies. What is this number 6? Number 7? Donovan scratched his head and recited the last names of some of the bodies I’d discovered in the last year.

It’s ten if you must know.

He gave me a look and restarted his count.

It’s ten. There were two in St. Louis recently. I hated to admit it, but there you had it. Two more murders on my recent trip west.

That’s quite the number. And I don’t mean that in a good way. Donovan huffed past me after telling both Paul and me not to leave the scene until he’d questioned us.

Beside me Paul had grown quite pale, his usual natural tan replaced by an ashy hue. I clasped his cool hand with my icy one. He managed a weak smile in my direction.

This was so not how I wanted his tenure at Daley & Palmer to start. Tonight, I’d planned to introduce him to our many guests at the open house, and then stand back while he charmed them all. But instead of a happy party and fun guests, he’d get to know cranky Tom Donovan up close and personal.

I’m so sorry. It was all I could think to say to Paul right now.

He squeezed my hand lightly. You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. No matter what Dick may think.

And there it was. The crux of everything. Dr. Daley would blame me, even though we were all together when we found Elise Weiss’s body.

Connie led a still shocked Dr. Daley through the lobby toward the exit. I’m driving Dick home. We’ve answered what questions we could. I’ll be in touch. Connie propelled Dr. Dick forward.

He mumbled something incoherent under his breath. I considered it a small blessing that I couldn’t understand what he said.

Dr. Hoffmann, we’ll interview you next. The police officer showed Paul where to go, and I started to rise with him.

Not you, Miss. Detective Donovan asked that you be the last to be questioned.

I sat back down. No way could this be good.

Chapter 3

After what seemed like hours, but could only have been fifteen minutes or so, Paul was back from being questioned. He sat down heavily next to me and stared straight ahead.

Just then the elevator dinged and none other than Richmond mob tsar, Dmitri Ivanov, and his ever-present bodyguard Tiny appeared in the lobby.

Miss Rebecca, what are you doing here so late? Ivanov advanced toward where Paul and I sat.

I mumbled, and Paul answered for me. There’s been an unfortunate accident in the building.

Ivanov then noticed the flashing blue lights outside the entrance and the noise coming from the corridor to our suite.

Accident? Ivanov then spoke in hushed tones to Tiny.

Ivanov’s bodyguard attempted to leave the building, but a policeman blocked his path and led him back inside.

This is most inconvenient, isn’t it, Tiny? Ivanov spoke to his minion who merely nodded.

Why is it when there’s trouble, there’s always you and him? I pointed at Tiny as I addressed Dmitri.

I could ask you the same thing, Miss Rebecca.

I guess he could.

You seem to have a most unfortunate knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Ivanov placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Truer words were never spoken.

My shoulder had an icy feel to it from Ivanov’s touch. Or maybe that was just my imagination. Whatever the reason, I shivered.

The police officer assisting Donovan with questioning beckoned me to follow him and did a slight double-take at seeing Ivanov and Tiny. Where did you two come from?

Russia. Moscow and St. Petersburg, to be specific. Ivanov answered.

No. How did you get in the building? The officer seemed momentarily confused.

We work in the building. Evidently, your screening process has not worked effectively tonight. There are others still hard at work as well throughout the building. May I suggest your officers need to do a better canvass of the area? Ivanov couldn’t help but smile, and in that moment, I had to admit that I admired him.

He seemed fearless in all circumstances. I didn’t want to soften the way I felt about him, but he was inserting tiny cracks in the walls I’d built up.

As for the officer, he issued quick orders to several of his men to find out who was still working, where they were located, and to bring them to the lobby for their interviews. Then led me away.

It looked like I wasn’t going to be the last person Donovan questioned tonight after all.

Tom Donovan was less than thrilled that his men had not properly secured the building. For a little man, he embodied the whole Napoleonic complex thing really well. He shouted orders left and right. He smiled smugly when the other police officers jumped at his commands.

Now, Miss Reynolds, let’s hear what you have to say for yourself. He sat at what was to be my new workstation in our beautifully renovated suite.

Now I’d have to find a way to de-cootify it before I used it.

Say for myself? What an odd way to put things, Detective. He had set the tone for this interview, and I wasn’t going to make this easy for either of us.

Let’s just get on with it. How did you know the victim? His hand poised over his notebook ready to write down details.

I didn’t know her. In fact, I’ve never seen her before. Stick with the truth. Always a good policy. Especially when dealing with the authorities. Or The Man as my grandfather liked to call anyone in charge. Granddad had a whole series of lectures on the Evil of the Man. I could hear them replaying in my memory.

Hmmm. He wrote something down, and I tried to read it from my vantage point across the desk without success.

What do you know about Dr. Paul Hoffmann?

What do you mean? He’s a respected therapist here at our practice. I wasn’t going to give him any ammunition to use against Paul.

New to the area, right? He narrowed his gaze at me.

Yes, he is. Stick to the bare basics. Consider yourself a hostile witness. Yes, that was it. Hostile. I glared back at the rumpled detective.

What can you tell me about his whereabouts today? He softened his tone trying to switch his demeanor without success.

Shouldn’t you be asking Dr. Hoffmann these questions? Answer a question with a question. Granddad had taught me well.

I have. But I wanted your perspective. His smile did not reach his eyes, and I wasn’t buying his sudden change of tactics. He needed to know if you were doing the good cop/bad cop thing, it took two people. You just couldn’t change your tactics in mid-interview effectively.

Paul and I have spent the evening together. When he asked me to elaborate on my whereabouts for the last twelve hours, I gave Donovan a timeline of my day and included Paul where appropriate. And then we saw the tarp. Dr. Daley reached it before I could.

So you’re saying all four of you were present when the body was discovered.

That’s exactly what I’ve said. Several times. As I’m sure the others have stated as well.

Got your stories down pat, have you? All protecting one of your own. He wrote something down fast and furious before closing the notebook with a determined slap on my desk.

"I’m simply