Swag Bags and Swindlers by Dorothy Howell Page A

director.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what she said,” Shana agreed.
    â€œAnd then Derrick threatened Vida,” Trudy said.
    â€œDerrick told her she’d better watch her step,” Shana said, “or he’d see to it that she got thrown out of here.”
    â€œUgly,” Delores said. “Like I said, ugly.”
    â€œWe heard it all,” Trudy said. “Word for word.”
    â€œEvery word,” Shana added, and pointed toward the patio. “Right out there. Right next to the fountain.”
    Vida had told me that Derrick had intended to fire Karen. Now, it seems, Vida was also on Derrick’s hit list.
    I couldn’t help but think this was a heck of a coincidence. I wondered if Vida had been lying to me about Karen. Had she told me about Karen’s impending termination to throw suspicion off herself?
    I didn’t know. But at least now I had two murder suspects.

C HAPTER 11
    W hen I left the dayroom and headed down the hallway, I spotted Karen standing behind the front desk. Finally. Where the heck had she been?
    No wonder Derrick wanted to fire her if she was never at her post.
    I mean that in the nicest way, of course.
    â€œHi, Haley,” Karen said when I walked up.
    â€œI didn’t see you earlier,” I said, using my I-hope-it-sounds-as-if-I’m-genuinely-concerned-and-not-just-fishing-for-info voice. “I was afraid you were out sick, or something.”
    â€œBusy, busy,” Karen said. “Just trying to keep up with everything.”
    I caught a glimpse of a lighter and a pack of cigarettes sticking out of her jacket pocket and figured she’d been on a smoke break. This was a nonsmoking campus, so I imagined she’d found a secluded spot outside where nobody would see her—especially since the place had dozens of oxygen tanks that might blow up.
    I’m pretty sure something like that would be mentioned in a future employee job performance review.
    Karen leaned toward me. “This place has turned into a complete zoo lately. Everybody is doing somebody else’s job, taking up the slack since Derrick’s . . . not here anymore.”
    â€œI guess he’s really missed?” I asked.
    Karen made a really unattractive snickering sound.
    â€œBelieve me, nobody misses Derrick,” she said. “Except Mr. Stewart, of course.”
    I was glad Karen had jumped right in on the topic of Derrick’s murder and everything that was going on here at Hollywood Haven, because that was exactly what I wanted to talk to her about.
    â€œRosalind got bumped up to acting assistant director,” Karen said. “She’s going crazy trying to untangle the mess Derrick made.”
    I gave her an oh-my-god eyebrow bob and said, “You’re kidding.”
    â€œIt’s true. In fact”—Karen glanced around, then leaned closer and lowered her voice—“I heard that Rosalind is thinking about going to the board and complaining.”
    â€œAbout Derrick?”
    â€œAbout Mr. Stewart,” Karen said.
    Oh, wow. This was some good stuff. I had to keep Karen talking.
    She, however, needed no promoting.
    â€œThere are . . . shall we say questions . . . about Derrick’s qualifications for the assistant director position,” Karen said. “Derrick smooth talked Mr. Stewart into giving him the job. That was Derrick. All he could do was talk.”
    I remembered then that somebody had told me Derrick’s chattiness had offended some of the residents.
    I leaned closer, matching Karen’s now-we’re-seriously-gossiping posture and tone.
    â€œI heard Derrick got a little too nosy with some of the residents,” I said.
    â€œThere were complaints from the families,” Karen said. She shook her head. “Nothing ever came of it, of course. Mr. Stewart wasn’t about to reprimand Derrick. He doesn’t like to rock the boat, if you get my meaning. He just wants to sit in his