Milkshakes and Murder by Christy Murphy

Author:Christy Murphy [Murphy, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

Mining and Motives

I typed my credit card information into the website hoping that I wouldn't be a victim of identity theft. This Visa was my only working credit card. Robert had destroyed most of our credit, and I'd gotten this secured credit card after he'd left me.

For a mere eight dollars, this website promised to give me detailed information about Howard Lederer, manager and half partner in Howard’s Housewares. I held my breath as the little icons spun. Payment accepted. Woot! I clicked to the next screen, and it provided me with an address: 1771 N. Polk Street in Sylmar. There were even two phone numbers and a notation that Howard had owned his home for 5+ years.

"Mom!" I called out as I rushed into the living room.

Jennifer had already come by after a day at Disneyland to pick up Wenling. Mom looked up at me from the couch.

"I think he lives in Sylmar. I got his address online," I said.

"You’re right, we should have gone online sooner," Mom said, turning off the television.

"But then we wouldn’t have been able to get all the rumors about the food poisoning under control." I’d realized that very important point in my room. That was my entire reason for convincing Mom to set her sights on solving this case. Why did I care if we found out who killed Brent now? The police would figure it out.

Mom got up from the couch and headed to the hallway.

"Where you going?" I asked Mom.

"I’m going to brush my hair and put on my shoes so we can talk to Howard," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don’t you think it’s too late?" I asked, following Mom into her bedroom.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"It’s half past eight," I answered.

Mom shook her head and opened the door to her closet. "Mom, he doesn’t even know us, and we’re going to show up on his doorstep after dark. It could be dangerous. What if he’s the killer?"

"He’s not the killer," Mom said.

"Mom, you don’t think he could be the killer at all?" I asked knowing she was fibbing. Mom looked down at the ground and stopped getting her shoes, her resolve wavering. I needed to convince her this was a bad idea.

"It’s not like the other cases, Mom. We don’t know this guy, and we’re not in our neighborhood. Sylmar isn’t far, but it’s not Fletcher Canyon. It isn’t filled with people we know. It’s more dangerous. We have no idea what Howard is like, and if he’s a killer who knows what he’ll do to us."

"What do you think we should do?" Mom asked.

I stopped to think. "Maybe we can just call him."

Mom brightened. "Good idea, kid. He can’t kill us over the phone."

Mom put her slippers back on, grabbed paper and pen from the nightstand, and dragged the telephone phone from its normal resting place into the dining room. I went to my room, printed the information from the website, and brought it to her.

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