Queer and Cozy Mysteries

Murder at the Office-2

Sharon’s phonerang. She took a cleansing breath before answering. It was a clienttrying to track down information she was sure she’d sent in anemail. She spent so long on the phone Kate actually sat on thefloor and pulled a math text from her bag. When the call was over,Sharon returned emails in silence, afraid of breaking herdaughter’s concentration.

Around 5:30,Sharon heard a familiar voice outside her door. It was Min askingsomeone, “Has Sharon left for the day?”

The voice thatanswered belonged to Phil from IT, whose office was next toSharon’s. “I heard yelling earlier, but it’s been quiet for awhile.”

“Her daughterwas here,” Min said. “They probably left early. I’ll have her makeup the time tomorrow.”

Sharon rolledher eyes. She worked late every night. She was working late now! Ifshe wanted to head out a couple minutes early, she was more thanentitled.

Another voicepiped up—that of Min’s dutiful assistant Hildred. “Her door isclosed. She must be gone.”

Min then toldHildred, “If that’s the case then you’ll have to process theseforms for me.”

“Can’t I do itin the morning?” Hildred asked. “I haven’t been to a single yogaclass all week.”

Min said,“Very well, then.” She growled under her breath and went on: “Goodhelp is hard to find.”

Phil calledout, “Night, Hil.”

“Don’t worktoo late,” Hildred called back.

“I’m rightbehind you.”

Kate staredsilently at the closed door, visualizing Hildred pulling her pursefrom the bottom drawer and changing from her office shoes to hercommuter sneakers.

When silenceovertook the hall, Sharon crept out from behind her desk andgingerly stepped over piles of paper. Kate quietly folded hertextbook closed and set it on the floor. She picked up her posterand stood, maintaining eye contact with her mother all thewhile.

Sharon raiseda finger to her lips and then turned the doorknob slowly.

She inchedopen the door and peeked into the hall.

The coast wasclear.

She waved herdaughter over and they slipped out of her office, closed the door,and then snuck into the copy room across the hall.

Once that doorwas closed behind them, Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. This wassomewhat of an all-purpose room, housing a kitchenette in additionto a mailroom and storage area. Fridge, coffeemaker, photocopier,fax, postage machine—with so much heavy equipment there was asoothing buzz in the air.

“Do you thinkwe’re safe to start copying?” Kate asked her mother.

“Should be.There’s a back exit through that door there, but I’m pretty sureHildred and Phil have both gone.”

“What aboutMin?” Kate asked. “Do you think she left?”

“Doesn’tmatter. Min never leaves by the back door. She’s too important toset foot in the mailroom.”

Kate openedthe top of the heavy-duty photocopier and set the poster on theglass. “Facedown, right?”

“That’sright.” Sharon hovered over her daughter. “How many copies?”

“I don’t know.A thousand?”

“A thousand?”Sharon hollered.

Kate raised afinger to her lips. “Shhh, Mom! Keep your voice down.”

“Oh, nobodywill hear us in here.”

Kate tried topress 1000 on the digital copier, but the screen kept defaulting to100. Sharon wasn’t about to tell her daughter you could onlyprogram up to 999 copies at a time.

“One hundredis perfect,” Sharon said, and hit the START button.

A messagepopped up, which read ENTER PASSCODE.

“What’s yourpasscode, Mom?”

“Oh, no. We’renot using mine. Min scrutinizes everyone’s printing numbers excepther own. She’s paranoid about being cheated by employees.”

Sharon punchedin Min’s printer passcode. Just as she was about to hit START, thedoor inched open.

“Someone’scoming!” Kate squeaked.

Sharon grabbedher daughter’s arm and pulled the girl into the storage closet,swiftly pulling the double doors closed behind them. Though thecloset was large, it was backed with innumerable boxes of paper, somother and daughter had to scrunch together. In that enclosedspace, Sharon got a generous whiff of her daughter’s various bodyodors.

“Jesus, Kate.When was the last time you took a shower?”

“Shh,” Katesaid, sitting on a stack of boxes and gazing through the gapbetween the two doors. “Look, it’s a cleaning cart. And acleaner.”

Sharon leanedover her daughter and peeked through the gap. “That’s Olga. She’sRussian.”

As if to proveSharon’s point, the cleaner took out her cell phone, dialled anumber with speakerphone on, and proceeded to chat in Russian withthe woman who answered the call. Olga set her phone on her cart andcontinued her conversation while she wiped down the kitchenettecountertop.

The door fromthe office opened again. High as Kate and Sharon jumped, Olgajumped even higher. Rushing to the cleaning cart, she smacked herphone, hanging up on her friend.

“Oh. Hello,”she said to the unseen figure who’d just entered the mailroom.

“Howdy,Olga.”

“Who is it?”Kate whispered to Sharon.

“Sounds likePhil.”

“I thought heleft already.”

“So didI.”

The fridgeopened and closed—they knew this by sound alone—followed by thecrackle-fizz of a can of pop.

“You aredrinking orange?” Olga asked. “You usually drink grape.”

“What can Isay? I feel like something a little different today.”

“Ahhh.”

Phil steppedinto view as he took a long swig. He then held the orange can atarm’s length and said, “Today is the first day of the rest of mylife.”

“Yes,” Olgareplied as Phil made his way past the mail sorting area.“Nighty-night,” he said as he opened the back door and left.

Olga returnedto her phone when he’d gone, but before she’d finished redialling,the office door opened once more. Olga huffed as another unseenfigure entered the room.

“Oh darn. Didyou dump out the coffee already?”

Olga threw herphone at the cart like it was on fire. “Yes, Miss. Did you want acup?”

“Yeah, I wasgonna drink it on the subway.”

“I am sorry,Miss.”

Kate strainedto see through the gap in the doors, and then asked her mother,“Who’s talking?”

“Sounds likeHildred,” Sharon whispered. “I thought she left ages ago.”

Hildred said,“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make a single-serve coffee atreception—just don’t tell Min. She’d freak. She always tellseveryone that single-serve machine is for clients only.”

“Yes, Miss,”Olga replied.

“But I don’tcare. I’m gonna make one anyway. You want one too? They’re reallygood.”

“No,Miss.”

“You sure? Themocha latte is sooo yummy. It’s probably ten million calories, butoh well. Sure you don’t want one?”

“I am sure,Miss.”

“Oh my God,”Hildred went on. “You should have seen Min this one time when abicycle courier tried to make himself a cup. She started screamingat him to get his filthy hands off her Keurig. It was hilarious. Ifelt bad for the guy.”

“Yes,Miss.”

“Min is such amiser when it comes to the office,” Hildred said as she came intoview: all four-foot-ten of her, in her chic modern clothes thatwould look little-girlish on anyone but a cool Korean. “Like,she’ll spend inordinate amounts of money on shoes, but if anyonedares to brew a coffee from the client machine she goes on amurderous rampage.”

“Yes,Miss.”

Hildred leanedagainst the photocopier, and Kate gasped. “What if she hits theSTART button?”

Sharon clungto her daughter’s shoulder. “Let’s just hope that doesn’thappen.”

Meanwhile,Hildred ranted about how Min was always keeping her late butrefused to pay her overtime. And when she wanted a couple hours offfor a doctor’s appointment, Min threatened to dock her pay.

“You know,sometimes I think my life would be easier if I quit this job andwent back to living in my parents’ basement. Sure they were strictwhen I lived at home, but in a lot of ways Min is worse.”

“Yes,Miss.”

“Sometimes I just want to throw my hands around her neck andscream, Getyour own chai latte, you mean-spirited, superciliousingrate! Youknow?”

“Yes,Miss.”

When Olga madeno attempt to inject her view into the conversation, Hildredsighed. “Well, I guess I’ll take off. I’ve already missed my yogaclass. Sure you don’t want me to brew you a mocha latte?”

Olga nodded,smiling faintly.

Hildred sighedagain, then said, “Okay. See ya.” She left by the back door, whichfeeds into reception, the land of forbidden single-serve coffeebrewers.

“So that wasHildred?” Kate asked.

“That wasHildred.

“Hmm. I alwayspictured her as an old woman. You don’t meet many young people witha name like Hildred.”

“I went toschool with a Hildred.”

Kate gave abreathy laugh. “Well, there you go. It’s an old-lady name.”

Sharon didn’tfind the comment as amusing as her daughter seemed to.

When Olgapicked up the recycling bin, Kate asked, “She won’t throw out myposter, will she?”

Sharonwhispered, “No, she would never take a document out of thecopier.”

The cleanerresumed her Russian phone conversation as she worked at cleaningthe photocopier area and then the mail-sorting section.

Kate groaned.“How long are we gonna be in here? I don’t want to spend my life inthe closet.”

“Well, youthink I do?”

Sharonbreathed uncomfortably. All this closet talk danced dangerouslyclose to a topic both mother and daughter felt fine discussing withnearly everyone except each other.

“You know,”Sharon said. “Nora keeps saying we should invite you over oneweekend. There’s a great Indian restaurant around the corner. Wecould order in some butter chicken and naan and tikka masala andthat chickpea dish you love so much, and saag paneer—that’s Nora’sfavourite—and we can all just relax and watch terrible TV. Rememberwe used to do that? Make fun of plot holes in made-for-TVmovies?”

Olga chattedloudly to her friend while Kate said, “Thanks but no thanks.”

Sharon’s heartdropped. “Are you saying I can’t even tempt you with Indian food?That’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, my favourite,”Kate snapped, loudly enough that Olga glanced around the mailroomon high alert. “Why are you suddenly stealing everything that’smine?”

“Shhh-shhh-shhh,” Sharon said, cupping one hand over her daughter’smouth.

Neither mothernor daughter moved in the space of Olga’s silence. It wasn’t untilthe cleaner continued on with her conversation that Sharon heaved asigh of relief and removed her hand from Kate’s mouth.

“Your handstinks,” Kate said.

“Couldn’tsmell worse than your hair,” Sharon shot back.

“My hair doesnot smell!” Kate replied, then quickly sniffed her underarms. “It’smy pits. That’s what smells. I stopped wearing deodorant.”

“Of course youdid,” Sharon said, peeking through the gap in the doors as Olgawheeled her cart out the back door, probably in search of a fancycoffee from reception. Then she’d be off to the next floor of thistowering office building.

Sharon sat insilence, absorbing the oppressive odour of her daughter’sarmpits.

“Is it safe?”Kate asked.

Sharoncouldn’t think who else might still be hanging around, aside fromMin, who wouldn’t come in here in a million years. Ever since she’dfired the moonlighting entrepreneurs, most workers who used to staylate now cleared out at five on the dot. Nobody wanted to beaccused of using office resources for personal gain.

“Okay,” Sharonsaid and opened the double doors.

Never had shetaken such pleasure in being struck in the nostrils by the dustyscent of toner.

But beforethey could hit START on the photocopier, the machine started up onits own.

Sharon andKate both jumped.

“Oh my God,that scared me!” Kate whispered. Lurching forward, she picked upthe single sheet of paper that had popped out of the printer.

It read, incapital letters:

CHEATERS NEVERPROSPER

“What’s thatsupposed to mean?” Kate asked.

“It meanscheaters don’t succeed in life.”

Kate suckedher teeth. “I know what the saying means. I’m asking, like, who isthis meant for? Us? Does someone know we’re here?”

“Min,maybe?”

“You thinkshe’s on to us?”

“If she openedmy office door and saw your knapsack in there.”

“Oh, so nowyou’re blaming me? Big surprise!”

“I’m notblaming you,” Sharon hissed. “My purse is in there too, hanging offthe back of my chair. She’d have seen both.”

Kate smackedthe START button with her palm and her posters startedprinting.

Sharon slappedher daughter’s hand.

“Ouch, Mom!What the hell?”

“Why’d youstart printing?” Sharon asked.

“We’reobviously gonna get in trouble for printing the posters,” Katereasoned. “Would you rather get in trouble for something youdidn’tdo?”

Sharoncouldn’t really argue with that logic. But she did say, “What ifMin comes in to confront us?”

“You saidyourself she never comes in here. This stupid little note is theconfrontation.”

“I don’tknow,” Sharon said. “It’s not really Min’s style. She confrontsthings head-on.”

“Fine,” Katesaid, slapping the CHEATERS NEVER PROSPER note down on thephotocopier. “I’m sick of hiding in closets. If Min wantsconfrontation, let’s give it to her.”

“No!” Sharonhissed, but by the time she caught up with her daughter, Kate hadalready heaved open the door through which they’d entered themailroom.

At full voice,Kate asked her mother, “Which way is your boss’s—”

Kate stoppedmid-sentence. Her eyes grew wide as she stared beyond the opendoor.

Sharon hadnever seen her daughter looking so appalled.

“Katie, honey,what is it?”

But Sharonanswered that question for herself by rushing through the door andgazing down the hallway. Phil’s office door was open. Out of it,like the Wicked Witch of the West, stuck two familiar legs and aknee-length red skirt.

“Min!” Sharoncried.

Kate yelped,“Mom, I think your boss is dead!”

ChapterTwo

Sharon rushedto her boss’s side and kneeled on the industrial carpet. Min waslong overdue for a heart attack. She should have expected this tohappen eventually. But when she geared up to slap Min’s cheek inhopes of reviving her, Sharon realized this was no simple heartattack.

“Oh my God,Mom, her eyes! Close her eyes!”

Sharon hadn’tnoticed her daughter hovering so close. She simultaneously coveredher boss’s vacant stare and swatted Kate’s legs. “Get away. Goaway. You shouldn’t be seeing this.”

“Shewasn’t my boss,” Katereplied, in a tone that sounded almost sympathetic.

Sharon kepther hand on her boss’s still-warm forehead, pressing those lifelesseyelids closed with her finger and thumb. The office was utterlysilent. If it wasn’t for the buzz of fluorescent lights overhead,Sharon would have thought she’d lost her hearing, gone into shock.And perhaps that was true, to some extent.

“Look at herneck,” Kate whispered, pointing to the upward-slanting marks thathad no doubt been left by the chunky chain Min had been wearing.“And her necklace is gone. Remember the one I liked? She must havebeen strangled with it.”

Sharon gazedfearfully at her daughter. “By who?”

“How should Iknow?!”

“Hildred wasthe last to leave,” Sharon reasoned. “And she was badmouthing Minto Olga.”

“But thatgirl’s ridiculously short,” Kate said, approaching the body. “Lookat the pattern of bruises on Min’s neck. It goes up at the back.Whoever strangled her had to be taller, not shorter.”

Sharon gazedat Phil’s sturdy office desk. “Maybe she stood up there.”

Kateconsidered the desk, which was piled up with tech gear andpaperwork. “If she stood on his desk she’d have messed up all thatstuff. Do you think she’d have murdered her boss and then taken thetime to put everything in order again?”

A faintknocking noise rang out from another part of the office, and Sharonwaved down her daughter’s voice. “Shhh-shhh-shhh!”

Kate frozebeside Min’s body, then whispered, “What?”