Elizabeth C. Main - Jane Serrano 02 - No Rest for the Wicked (12 page)

“
That must have hurt, not to be able to set him straight.
”

“
It didn’t feel great, but that wasn’t what was so bad. When I asked him why he was downtown, know what he said? That he needed cough drops. Then he patted his pocket, but I knew he hadn’t gone anywhere near a store. He looked—I don’t know how to describe it
…
”

“
Guilty
?
”

“
Yeah, that’s it. Reminded me of the way he acted when he was hiding cigarettes from us last year.
”

“
And it took a heart attack to get him to quit them.
”
Uneasy,
I remembered
that strokes were also linked with long-term smoking. Could that be what had happened to Laurence?

Tyler nodded and went on.
“
Anyway, since he’d already lied to me once, I went ahead and asked who he’d been talking to on the street, just to see what he’d say.
”
The look on Tyler’s face telegraphed his message before he got the words out.
“
He told me I must be seeing things, said that he hadn’t talked to anyone. Now do you see why I’m worried?
”

“
Oh, Tyler, I’m so sorry.
”
If Tyler was imagining that meeting, then so was I.

Chapter 11

Following our talk, Tyler seemed to relax a
bit. In
fact, he was so much more comfortable that I risked a joke about his harem returning to Thornton’s tomorrow for more filming. His
half-
smothered chuckle told me that his spirits were well on their way to recovery. He’d watch his grandfather carefully, looking for more clues that might help us figure out what the old man was up to, while I’d go home and surf the
’
Net for articles on Alzheimer’s and senility. We’d talk again tomorrow at Thornton’s. Though voicing his fears had calmed Tyler, I
now
had a knot in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t imagine what Laurence was doing. Cantankerous, yes, but he’d never shown a hint of mental trouble.

First Alix
,
and now Laurence. I needed help, and not the fanciful kind the Murder of the Month group offered. I needed Nick, solid
,
dependable … and totally out of range until he finished up with his
inconvenient
client. After months of dithering, why did Joe Arganno choose this particular week to show such an interest in settling his case? His family had owned that mountain for years. It wasn’t as though the timber on it
would
walk away.

On impulse I pulled into the crowded parking lot of Donnelly’s Country Market, choosing the smaller, more expensive store because it carried Nick’s favorite asiago bread. After threading my way through the narrow aisles, I found only one loaf in the wicker bin. Probably Nick wouldn’t be back tonight, but I snatched it up anyway. It would hold until tomorrow.
Surely Nick would be back by then. I moved on to select New York steaks and portabella mushrooms. Into the cart went three kinds of lettuce, a perfectly ripe Bosc pear
,
and Danish bleu cheese to top the salad. After the merest hesitation, I also snagged a bottle of Brunello di Montalcino. In for a penny,
out
for thirty bucks. Imagining Nick’s raised eyebrows when he saw the wine, I smiled. Something as uncomplicated as shopping for dinner was just what I needed. I rolled my shoulders a few times and felt the tension ease as I waited in the checkout line.

Once at home, I dumped the sacks on the counter and saw the message light blinking on my answering machine.

Nick’s disappointed voice came in bits and pieces.
“
I climbed a damned mountain … get signal, but you’re … and
reception’s … Got to …
”

The line went dead. The call had come in only ten minutes earlier. Why hadn’t he called my cell instead? I dug in my bag. No phone. It was only then I remembered leaving it on the passenger seat while I’d been shopping. Rushing back to the car, I grabbed the cell, but all that showed was one missed call. With sinking hope
,
I tried the number as I returned to the kitchen. The caller was now unavailable.

I stuffed the groceries haphazardly into the refrigerator, all interest in dinner gone. Leaning wearily against the adjacent counter, I reviewed the situation. If I’d been in a better mood, I might have found it amusing that, for once, it was Nick breaking a date, but the truth was that I’d come to depend on him more than I realized. If he felt the same way about me, as it appeared he did, no wonder he’d been upset when I’d broken several dates, the most recent last week.

T
hat evening hadn’t started well. Instead of showing up at Nick’s for dinner, as planned, I’d been on the road between Juniper and Prineville after Bianca’s bicycle chain had snapped. Not wanting to make my daughter ride all those miles in the dark, I jumped in the car to pick her up. Besides, Wendell’s black fur wouldn’t have shown up at night. No, it simply had been too dangerous to leave them to find their own way home. I’d still have arrived at Nick’s house on time if a hay truck hadn’t overturned and closed the highway on our return trip.

While
Bianca, Wendell, and I
had
waited for the road to be cleared, I determined to get a cell phone the next day, as Nick had been urging me to do. I simply hadn’t gotten around to it. Bianca refused to carry one because she worried about throw-away electronics polluting the environment. Wendell didn’t express an opinion, but I was sure he agreed with me that anyone who didn’t carry a cell might consider carrying a spare bicycle chain.

When I’d finally rushed in Nick’s door at nine that night, a single glance illuminated the magnitude of my
faux pas
. A crisp white tablecloth, its creases fresh from the package, graced what I assumed was Nick’s battered relic of a card table. It usually sported fishing lures,
half-
eaten bowls of Grape-Nuts, and copies of
Northwest Fly Fishing
magazine, but never before a tablecloth. Wax from two half-consumed crimson tapers threatened the snowy cloth while giving mute evidence of my tardiness. Nick hadn’t bothered turning from his position at the sink at my arrival. He continued washing dishes, his stiff posture making my apology all the more awkward.

“
I’m so sorry. You didn’t tell me you were making a special meal. I thought we were grabbing burgers.
”

Nick finally turned around.
“
Which of your friends needed you this time?
”
When I couldn’t conceal a flash of annoyance, Nick turned back to the sink.
“
Thought so.
”

“
It wasn’t like that. Well, yes, Bianca’s bicycle chain broke and I went to pick her up, but I’d have been back if a hay truck hadn’t overturned.
”
I came up behind him and wound my arms around his waist.
“
They closed the highway for two hours. I’m really sorry,
”
I said into the back of his shirt,
“
and very hungry.
”

“
You should’ve called.
”

“
I’m getting a cell phone first thing tomorrow.
”

He turned around and gathered me into his arms.
“
Excellent idea.
”

“
Is there any food left?
”

He laughed.
“
Okay, but only because you’re finally getting that cell phone.
”

The trout
almandine
was dried out, the rice lumpy, and the salad had that funny smell that told me he’d dumped it straight from the package, but the evening had turned out fine.

Now I glared at my new
,
and currently useless
,
cell phone.
“
Okay, Nick, I got the cell phone as promised, but you have to stay within range if it’s going to do us any good.
”

Meanwhile, with Nick stuck somewhere on a mountain helping a client, I’d better keep my promise to do some research for Tyler.

Was he right
about
his grandfather? I didn’t know much about senility, but I had my computer and an empty evening to educate myself. A bowl of Quaker Oat
meal
Squares would do for dinner.

Again, my thoughts strayed to Nick, who liked both Laurence and Tyler. He’d have been as upset at the potential problem Tyler had outlined as I was.
No doubt about it, I liked having him around, and not just because of the way his presence heated my blood. His steady good sense also made him a
comforting presence
at all times, whether or not there were
problems
to be solved
.

Surely he’d be back tomorrow. Tomorrow night would be soon enough to make good use of the food and wine I’d purchased. This time
,
he’d been the one answering a call for help. Though I wanted him here with me, I was glad he was someone who went out of his way for others. My turn would come soon enough.

As I googled for information to help Tyler, my thoughts kept straying to Nick. I frowned when it occurred to me that he might not get back tomorrow. His garbled message hadn’t been clear. I paused in my research to make a cup of Tazo
c
hamomile tea. As I waited for the water to boil, I considered the question. The answer came to me just as the kettle whistled. Tomorrow I was scheduled to work at Thornton’s. If I hadn’t heard from Nick by tomorrow night, I’d try another idea.

Nick loved fly fishing more than anything. I’d leave a note on his door and a message on his answering machine suggesting that everything was all right here, but that I’d be very busy the next day. With that kind of encouragement to make other plans, I knew he’d make a beeline for the nearest stream if he returned to Juniper late. I’d show up unannounced at his house with a picnic lunch and an offer to go with him.

I returned with renewed energy to my computer research. If he came home tomorrow, we’d have the fancy dinner here. If not, I’d go to the backup plan. As I sipped my tea, I almost hoped he wouldn’t come back tomorrow.
It was more fun to anticipate his surprise at seeing me at dawn the next day, since I’d never shown any interest in fly fishing. First thing in the morning, I’d have to find out where to buy a fishing license.

Chapter 12

Though Laurence and Tyler arrived at Thornton’s together the next morning, I heard none of the usual banter between them. At my questioning look, Tyler merely shrugged his shoulders. With Laurence in the room, I couldn’t talk to Tyler about my Internet research, so I merely asked him to wash the display windows and went on restocking the shelves containing nature literature. It seemed that Juniper’s tourists this month wanted to read about cougar attacks, though most people didn’t stray more than fifty feet from the nearest restaurant when they visited.

Hunter Blackburn’s murder again dominated the front page of today’s
Journal
. As expected, today’s lead featured the unwelcome
information
that the murdered man had
“
once been married to local wedding consultant Alix Boudreau, who was cooperating with authorities
.
”
I’d known Arnie would leak that tidbit
to the press. Somehow, it was worse seeing
it in print
. I could only imagine how it would deflate Alix
to
read this very public statement of
something
she’d spent years hiding
.

From past experience, I knew that
the hordes
would soon descend on Thornton’s in search of true-crime fiction so they could scare themselves vicariously about something
other than cougars for a while.
Predictably, a couple of letters to the editor had already voiced requests for the Murder of the Month Book Club to step up and find the killer, since the Russell County Sheriff’s Department hadn’t yet done the job. For once I felt a flash of sympathy for Arnie. It had only been a couple of days. I recognized one of the letter-writers as a woman who had been crushed that we hadn’t opened up membership to the book club, in spite of her entreaties. We’d imposed a blanket hold on adding new members, keeping it to the original five of us in self-defense after having been deluged with bizarre membership requests from all kinds of lunatics after we solved last year’s murder.
People just refused to believe that we gathered simply for the pleasure of reading mysteries, not to solve actual crimes.
Well, Alix and I did, anyway.
Minnie, Tyler, and Bianca
were a different story
.
The woman who’d driven all the way from Burns swathed in black netting and carrying a caged bat had made the dec
ision to close membership easy.

Most of the disappointed locals
had
contented themselves with coming to Thornton’s, asking me to retell the story, and then leaving with an armload of books. I hoped Tyler’s website might deflect a few more from directly pleading to be admitted to the club, but this latest murder was certain to stir things up again. My call to Alix this morning had confirmed that she’d heard nothing further from Arnie, which was reassuring. The fact that he hadn’t returned to harass her further suggested that he somehow had stumbled upon another lead. Hard to believe, but I wished h
im success in following it up.

Laurence stood in the center of the room and studied the wall clock behind the counter. Its ticking provided the only sound other than the thumps as Tyler removed the bestsellers from the window shelves. Normally
,
I didn’t even notice the sound of the clock, but
now
it started to get on my nerves.

After I’d
emptied the last box and straightened,
Laurence
was still
rooted in place,
staring
at the clock.

I frowned.
“
Are you waiting for something?
”

“
What makes you think that? Can’t a man stand still for a minute without someone jumping at him?
”

“
Sorry.
”
No point in antagonizing him at this point.
“
Say, do you feel up to working for me tomorrow? I’d like to—
”

“
Fine, fine.
”
Laurence
looked at Tyler on a ladder washing the bay windows
and raised his voice
.
“
I ran this place on my own before you came
,
and, by God, I can run it for one day without you now.
”

“
Of course you can. I just didn’t want to inconvenience—
”

“
About time I worked more
,
anyway. Can’t sit around counting boards in the floor all the time, that’s for sure.
”

A massive woman swathed in a maroon tent dress
swept into
the
store
and
fixed a stern gaze on
Laurence
.
“
Antique bottles?
”

He
recoiled.

“
How should I know? Ask her.
”
He waved a bony arm in my direction and stomped off toward the office.

The woman advanced on me.
“
What a rude man. I thought he worked here.
”

“
Mmm,
”
I said.
“
Let me check the inventory. Tyler, you don’t happen to …
?
”

“
Try hobbies.
”

An unearthly screech came from the back of the store, startling the customer.
“
What was that?
”

“
Back door needs oiling.
”
I looked at Tyler as I spoke.

He jumped off the ladder and sprinted out the front door
in an attempt to follow Laurence unobtrusively
.
No wonder Laurence had been staring at the clock. He was probably counting the minutes before another rendezvous.

The customer stared
after
him.
“
What a strange store.
D
o you have a book on antique bottles
,
or don’t you?
”

“
I’m checking.
”
I returned my attention to the computer screen.

“
Oh, never mind. I don’t have all day.
”
As
grandly as she had entered
, the woman
swept back
out the door without a backward glance.
So much for that sale.

Another screech from the back door.
Maybe Laurence hadn’t been sneaking off, after all.
I scrawled
“
WD-40
”
on a Post-It note and waited for
him
to appear.
He didn’t.
I called out,
“
Laurence
?
”
No answer.

The office appeared empty, but I checked behind the door anyway. Nothing there but an umbrella missing a couple of spokes. As I moved to toss it into the garbage, a whisper from the far side
of the desk froze me in place.

“
Are we alone?
”

I lifted the useless umbrella in a defensive gesture before peering around the desk.

Velda Kubek crouched there.
“
Are we alone?
”
she repeated in the same urgent whisper.
At my nod, she stood up and leaned toward me.
“
I need to talk to you.
”
Her
breathing was rapid, as though she’d been running.
“
About Alice Durand.
”

“
Alice? Is she all right?
”

“
Far’s I know,
”
she whispered,
“
but—
”

“
You can speak up. No one else is here.
”

“
Oh, sorry.
”
Velda bent her head like a schoolgirl being chastised.

“
Nothing to be sorry for.
”
I suppressed a flash of annoyance. Velda meant well, but she was so sensitive that it was hard to avoid hurting her feelings.
“
Please, go on.
”

Though she continued to look uncertain, she finally spoke up.
“
Alice has been acting very odd. You must have noticed yesterday.
”

I thought back to Alice’s tart exchange with our guest speaker at the SOS meeting. Abrupt, discourteous perhaps, but that was Alice.
“
Well, she’s—
”

“
So I knew you’d want me to follow her.
”

“
I’d want you to … why would I want that?
”

“
Because she was acting strange,
”
Velda said patiently
.
“
A
nd then you left, so it was clear that you couldn’t follow Alice yourself.
”
Her voice returned to a whisper, but gained in intensity as
,
once more
,
she leaned close.
“
Your book club? The murder? I can put two and two together.
”
She folded her hands before her as though in prayer and waited for my response, her eyes bright behind oversized glasses. I was still trying to make sense of her logic when she burst out,
“
I know you aren’t adding new members, but I thought if I could find out what Alice was up to . .
.
”

Oh, no. Another Minnie Salter in the making. Velda was twenty years younger and a few pounds lighter than Minnie, but they both might as well have the words
“
Please, Let Me Help
”
tattooed on their earnestly
furrowed foreheads. Unfortunately, taking care of Velda’s Aunt Eleanor or providing refreshments at an SOS meeting required slightly different skills than those needed for catching a murderer.

I cleared my throat and tried to let her down easily.
“
Our book club isn’t actually—
”

“
With another murderer on the loose? With the sheriff actually consulting Alix, one of your charter club members, for help?
”

I opened my mouth to set her straight, but closed it immediately. If she didn’t
quite understand
why the sheriff had
“
consulted
”
Alix, I saw no reason to enlighten her. Velda continued.
“
Minnie hinted that the book club is an integral part of this investigation … and you’re not just reading about murder.
”

At my startled look, she nodded. Velda Kubek, Private Eye, was on the case, and now that she had started, she could hardly wait to tell me about her prime suspect:
poor, overworked Alice Durand.

“
Did you notice how Alice got all red in the face when Dr. McCutcheon described confidence men? She was mad!
”

Velda’s cheeks were pink, her expression more animated than I’d ever seen it. No doubt about it. This was a confirmed Minnie clone.

I tried to slow her avalanche of words.
“
Well, of course she was angry. Her father lost all his money to—
”

“
To a con man. Exactly! But what if it was the same man who just got himself murdered?
”

A short laugh erupted before I could stop it.
“
Oh,
Velda
. How likely is that? He lost his money several years ago.
”

Velda bit her lip and blinked hard, crestfallen at my dismissal of her brilliant theory.

Fearing that she was about to cry, I tried to make amends.
“
Why don’t you just tell me what you found?
”

That did it. Like a newly
watered daisy, she perked up.
“
After we finished cleaning up, I went looking for Alice downtown. Found her, too, at the First Credit Bank. Stroke of luck, that. Anyway, I hid behind one of those islands where you make out the deposit slips, and what do you think? The cashier counted out a whole bunch of money into Alice’s hand, and I mean a whole bunch. She went from the bank to the post office, picked out one of those brown mailing envelopes they have, and mailed something. I couldn’t exactly see, but what if it was the money?
What if she was paying someone off?
”