No Accounting for Murder

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Mike enjoyed his chat with Walter Daniels. They exchanged pleasantries about the weather and the state football standings for a few minutes. Without a doubt, Daniels enjoyed working with kids and was proud of his school's accomplishments. As they spoke, Daniels's countenance changed, and the worry lines in his forehead relaxed and his shoulders straightened.

Mike lounged in a chair next to the large wooden desk that almost filled the small office. "Carly will find your missing money, and she'll prove Denise was not involved."

Daniels squinted at Mike. "I expect you to say that. After all, Denise is your daughter and Carly is your wife."

Mike leaned forward. "You've known Denise for a few years. You go to her church. You know her kids. Do you really think she would take that money?"

Daniels shrugged. "Who can say what another person will do if enough pressure is put on them?" He gazed out the window at the schoolyard below. "I have seen many good people do things completely out of character."

Mike shook his head. "That's where I'll disagree with you." He set his hands flat on the desk. "I think people rarely act out of character. They may not do what we expect, but I think their actions are very much in character. Sometimes people hide things."

Daniels's face drained of color. "What do you mean by that?"

Mike held up one hand. "I mean, if we really knew someone, we wouldn't be surprised by what they do."

Daniels dabbed at his top lip with a handkerchief pulled from his jacket pocket. "And what would you do in a similar situation?"

Mike raised his eyebrows. "It's hard to second-guess ourselves. I'd like to think I'd at least adopt the basic tenet of our judicial system, which is we are all presumed innocent until proven guilty." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me some about yourself."

Daniels stood and walked across his office to a bookshelf. Retrieving a volume from a stack, he returned to his seat pushed the volume across the desk. "This tells my story."

Mike picked up the brown leather bound volume and read the title. University of Ohio Yearbook, 1970.

Mike smiled, setting the book down on the desk. "I'd say there's more to you than I'd find in this."

Once again the man's shoulders tensed and he leaned forward as if ready to jump across the desk. "And what do you mean by that?"

Taken aback by the man's reaction, Mike held up his hands in mock surrender. "Nothing, man. Calm down." He opened the book and turned a few pages. "Varsity basketball. State champions. Walter Daniels, year book committee." He glanced up. "Not homecoming king, though."

Daniels smiled. "No, never that. Not in the popular crowd."

Mike pointed to a photograph. "Still, state champs. No slouch."

"Second string at best. Played twice during the year. Never left the bench in the playoffs." He leaned across the desk and closed the book. "Like I said. That book says it all."

Mike shook his head. "But you love teaching."

"I love being in school administration. I really like kids. I love shop, but I wasn't a shop teacher. I'm more into science."

"No shame in that."

"Except it's expected, you know." Daniels stood again, picked up the book, and returned it to its place on the shelf. "I'm good at my job."

"Denise speaks highly of you. Every fund-raiser you oversee is a huge success."

Daniels turned and smiled. "Nice to know I have my own fan club."