A Crabby Killer (9 page)

C
laire and Dom
waited out front for the police to arrive. They’d debated going into the house, but they didn’t want to suffer Zambuco’s wrath by contaminating the scene. Besides, they’d already gotten the information they’d come for.

“So, either someone stole the
Crabby
or it wasn’t there because Bob had already used it as the murder weapon and ditched it.” Claire reached through the passenger window of the car and grabbed her phone from the dashboard. A prickle of excitement bloomed in her chest when she saw the very top of the pictures had filled in. It was only one thin line, but at least there was some progress.

“Maybe Bob hired someone to make it look like someone broke in and stole it,” Dom mused. “Or maybe someone really did break in and only had time to grab one thing, so they took the biggest object.”

Claire snorted. “Good luck to them if they think they're going to be able to turn that into money. It’s just base metal.”

“Okay, so no one would break in and steal it for money. Why else would they steal it?” Dom asked.

“Good question.” Claire jiggled the phone impatiently as if that would speed up the download. “Maybe it wasn’t there to begin with.”

“Which points toward Bob as the killer.”

“Or Shane.” A rock lodged in Claire’s chest. She was glad the focus was off of Tom and Mae, but she didn’t want it to be Bob or Shane. “Bob didn’t seem nervous when we asked him about the
Crabby
. If he clonked Blunt with it, I would think there would have been some nervous tick or tell when we asked where his was, and I didn’t see one. Not even a flinch.”

“Maybe a third party who came to visit Bob earlier in the week took it.” Dom nodded toward Claire’s phone. “Maybe Bob knows this Rita person and she came to visit.”

“Wouldn’t Bob notice it was gone?”

Dom pursed his lips. “Not necessarily. You know how it is when you have something that’s been in the same spot for years. You kind of forget all about it. Unless he was looking specifically, he might not notice. And that china cabinet is crammed full, so it’s easy to glance at it and not think anything is amiss.”

“I doubt this Rita person could have put Blunt in the crab boil pot by herself. She must have had an accomplice.”

“Maybe she got Bob to help her. If he really was drunk, his judgment would have been impaired.”

“But if he was that drunk, how could he even function enough to be of help?”

“Good point. Maybe she’s in cahoots with Naughton,” Dom suggested.

“But why would they break into Bob’s
now
? They would have broken in
before
Blunt was killed to get the
Crabby
to use as a murder weapon.”

“Maybe they did get it before and were breaking in this time to put it back where the police could find it to frame him. We pulled up and they got scared and ran out without being able to replace it.”

Claire watched the brown and tan police cruiser pull onto the street. “Maybe. I think we should keep our theories to ourselves, though. Except this newspaper article, if it points to a non-islander, I’m all for the police turning their focus in that direction.”

“Agreed.”

The police car pulled into the driveway and Zambuco and Robby got out. Zambuco scowled at Dom and Claire. “What’s going on? Did you call in a break in?”

“Yes, out back,” Dom said.

Zambuco turned his glare on Robby. “Go check it out.”

Robby did as told, taking the two uniformed police officers who had arrived in a separate car with him.

Zambuco watched them for a second, then turned back to pierce Claire with his beady, black eyes. “What were you two doing here?

“We came to visit Bob Cleary.”

“And you went to his backyard instead of using the front door?”

“Actually, when we pulled up, we thought we saw someone running off that way.” Dom pointed to the woods. “It seemed like he came from the back of the house, so we went out back and found the break-in.”

“Do you have any idea who it was?”

“No.”

Zambuco folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the hood of his car. “Gee, I’m surprised you two super sleuths didn’t give chase.”

“He was too far away already,” Claire shot back.

“And where is Bob?” Zambuco asked.

“Not home. He must be on his boat. I guess I got the schedules mixed up.” Claire plastered a look of wide-eyed innocence on her face.

Zambuco looked at her like he didn’t believe her. “Did you go inside?”

“Who, us? No. We know better than that,” Dom said.

“This visit wouldn’t be related to the Blunt murder, would it?”

Claire fiddled with her phone, her eyes on the display. “No. It was just a social call.”

Zambuco pushed off the hood of the car and craned his neck at Claire’s phone. “What’s that you’re doing?”

“I found an article about Blunt. It seems he has a history of playing dirty to get real estate. And one of his victims tried to kill him before.”

Zambuco’s eyes lit up. “Tell me more.”

They stood with their heads bent, watching the pictures fill in at an agonizingly slow pace as Claire summarized the article for him.

“What are you doing?” Robby stood behind Claire. She showed him the phone and brought him up to speed.

He screwed up his face and held out his hand. “Let me see that. My guy didn’t find anything about this.”

Claire handed over the phone. “Well, I did have to wade through a lot of search results before I found it.”

“So you think this Rita person could be on the island and somehow involved in the killing?” Robby used his finger to scroll through the article.

“Yes, we’re hoping we can show the picture around to the hotels. It’s possible she used a fake name.”

“Like Naughton,” Robby said.

Claire’s brows tugged together. “His name's not Naughton?”

“Nope,” Zambuco cut in. “We can’t find any Thomas Naughton from Michigan where he claims to be from. He’s an impostor, probably using a fake name because he’s come to the island for nefarious reasons.”

“Like murder?” Dom asked.

“Right, and he might be teamed up with this Rita person.” Zambuco was being uncustomarily cooperative with them. Usually, he’d just take their information and tell them not to butt in anymore. Claire wondered if his new semi-nice persona had anything to do with Jane.

“If she was arrested before, she’ll be in the database,” Zambuco said. “We can go back to the police station and look her up and get her picture that way.”

“Good idea.” Claire opened the car door.

Zambuco’s bushy brows knit together. “Not you. Me and Robby. This is police business and we don’t need you to
help
.”

“Well, I just thought that being an islander and all, I might be able to recognize her if she’s from around here,” Claire said.

“No need.
We’ll
show the picture around and see if anyone recognizes her.” Zambuco started toward his car.

“I don’t think we’ll need to do that.” The tone in Robby’s voice stopped Zambuco in his tracks.

Claire looked questioningly at Robby, who held the cell phone up to face them. The pictures had filled and what Claire saw made her stomach plummet.

Rita Howell was Sarah White.

Z
ambuco and Robby
left the uniformed officers to process the break-in and rushed over to
Chowders
. Dom’s heart sank for Sarah as he and Claire followed them. He’d come to think of her as a daughter, probably because his own daughter was about the same age and he didn’t see her as often as he liked. Sarah filled that gap for him. Plus she made a mean Italian dessert.

He’d known Sarah was hiding something, but he couldn’t believe she was a murderer. Yet, there it was in black and white on the phone. She’d tried to kill Blunt before.

She’d lied about her name and her past. But Dom knew she wasn’t violent by nature. If she’d killed Blunt, she must have been pushed to it.

It all made sense now. The twine, the fight with Blunt, the way Shane had had to stop her from doing
something
. Well, it looked like he didn’t stop her. Maybe he’d even helped her.

Sarah’s face registered alarm when they all walked through the door. Did Dom detect a flicker of guilt?

He stood just inside, trying to read her expression as he inhaled the heavy aroma of mashed potatoes and gravy, the savory smell of the comfort foods a deep contrast to the purpose of their visit. His gaze flicked around the restaurant, which was empty except for one couple at a corner table. Dom felt relieved for Sarah—even if she was a killer, he didn’t want to see her humiliated in front of a restaurant full of customers.

“What is it?” Sarah asked. Light glinted off the large knife in her hand which hovered over a pile of half-chopped carrots.

“We need to talk to you about Melvin Blunt,” Robby said softly.

Sarah’s eyes flicked to Dom and then back to Robby. “I told Dom, don’t know anything about him.”

Disappointment settled on Dom like a heavy cloak. In his mind, he’d made excuses for her lie about the argument with Blunt, figuring that she might have had a reason to keep it private. Before Blunt was murdered, that didn’t seem as important. But now, with the police directly questioning her and knowing who she really was, Dom couldn’t help but feel that her lies were a sign of guilt.

Surely, she must know that the police would have figured out who she was, eventually? Then again, if it wasn’t for Claire’s persistent internet search, maybe they wouldn’t have.

Zambuco leaned against the counter. “I think we know that’s not true, Sarah … or should I call you Rita.”

Sarah’s knife clattered to the counter. Her wide eyes darted around the room like a frightened bird.

“We found out about what happened with your parents’ restaurant,” Claire said gently, earning a warning glare from Zambuco. From his years on the force, Dom knew that investigating officers didn’t like others cutting in on their interrogation and Zambuco was no different. And this
was
an interrogation, much as Dom hated to think it.

Dom’s stomach twisted as he watched Sarah’s face crumble, just before her pale hands flew up to cover it. He instinctively rushed behind the counter to comfort her, just as he would have had he seen his daughter in such distress. On his way, he couldn’t help but glance at the shelves under the counter where he’d seen Sarah place the ball of twine. Much to his surprise, the twine was still there.

“That restaurant was my parents’ life-long dream,” Sarah sobbed.

Dom eased his arm around her shaking shoulders and she sagged against him. “Now, now. We know Blunt didn’t play fair. Did he do something to make your parents lose the restaurant?”

Sarah nodded, then reached for a napkin and blew her nose loudly. Her words came out in short bursts between sobs. “My parents ran a clean place. It was their pride and joy. Blunt approached them about selling out. He wanted to build a strip mall or something. They wouldn’t sell, but he kept pestering them. He got more and more persistent each time.”

“That’s too bad,” Zambuco said unsympathetically. “I’m more interested in how you tried to kill him, though.”

“I didn’t! He made up a sto—“

The door flew open and Shane burst in. His face darkened as he looked around at them.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded. Then, upon seeing Sarah’s tear-stained face, he rushed to her side. Dom gently handed her over and watched as Sarah sunk her head onto Shane’s shoulder and produced a new batch of tears.

Shane patted Sarah’s blonde hair and glared at them. “Well?”

“It seems you’re girlfriend here has another identity,” Zambuco said.

Shane didn’t even flinch. “That’s not true. Not technically.”

Zambuco’s left brow shot up.

Sarah raised her head from Shane’s shoulder, grabbed another napkin and blew into it. “I changed my name legally after what happened with Blunt.”

“What, exactly,
did
happen?” Claire asked.

Shane and Sarah exchanged a glance that told Dom either Shane knew everything about Sarah’s past, or they’d worked up a story together. He glanced at Claire. She was watching the couple closely, probably thinking the same thing he was. Dom knew she would put her training to good use to detect any tell-tale signs of lying.

“You should tell them everything, right from the beginning,” Shane suggested to Sarah.

Sarah gave a shaky nod. “Like I said, my parents’ restaurant was their pride and joy. They’d saved their whole lives to open it. When Blunt came around wanting to buy the property, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He became more and more aggressive. Then one day, the health inspector made a surprise visit. Rats were found in the kitchen. We knew there were no rats and we suspected that Blunt had somehow planted them in there.

"The restaurant was closed down until it could be cleaned out and inspected again. But the inspector’s schedule was too tight—we think he was paid off or influenced somehow by Blunt to delay it—and the restaurant was closed for months. It was my parents’ only source of income and with no money coming in, they defaulted on the mortgage and lost the property. Blunt scooped it up at a discount.”

Dom’s fists tightened in anger at Blunt.

Claire made sympathetic clucking noises. “And then what happened?”

Sarah sniffed loudly. “Shortly after that, Daddy had a fatal heart attack. I know it was losing the restaurant that did it to him. Mom went into a deep depression.” Sarah wrung the napkin in her fist, contorting and twisting it violently. “I hated Blunt for what he'd done to my family.”

“So you tried to kill him,” Zambuco said.

Sarah shook her head. “No. Well, I admit I did go a little crazy, but I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was just trying to make his life as miserable as he’d made mine.”

“How?” Claire asked.

Sarah looked down at the floor. “I’m not proud of this, but I resorted to some of the same tricks he'd used. I had a friend of mine sabotage the concrete of the foundations for his strip mall so that it wouldn’t dry properly. I put dead mice in his pool. And I let the air out of his tires.”

Zambuco’s brows snapped together. “That can’t be the full story. We know you tried to kill him.”

“I didn’t try to kill him.” Sarah shot them a pleading look. “You guys know me. You know I’m no murderer.”

“But you were arrested. You even went to trial,” Zambuco said. “That wouldn’t happen if they didn’t have concrete evidence.”

Sarah sighed. “Blunt orchestrated that, too. When I let the air out of his tires, I didn’t let out enough, so he didn’t notice they were low and he drove the car. Unfortunately, the tire blew out and he got into an accident. He wasn’t killed—he was barely even hurt but someone had seen me let the air out. He suspected I’d been sabotaging his efforts and he used the fact that I’d let the air out of the tires to accuse me of attempted murder. If you read the article you know that the jury did not find me guilty because I wasn’t actually trying to kill him, just make him miserable.”

“Maybe you weren’t trying to kill him
then
.” Zambuco stabbed his thick fingers in the air toward her. “But obviously your murderous tendencies escalated. When you saw him on the island here, you saw a second chance to do him in.”

Sarah shook her head. “No. I did see him here on the island. He came to the restaurant to taunt me.” Sarah slid wet eyes in Dom’s direction. “It’s true. I was fighting with him that day, but I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want anyone digging into my past. I had no idea he’d end up dead. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Dom’s heart melted. Could Sarah’s story be true? Judging by what he’d heard, it was entirely possible, especially considering Sarah’s gentle nature. But, if she didn’t kill Blunt, then who did?

“Then why are you here under an assumed name?” Zambuco asked.

“It’s not an assumed name,” Sarah said. “I legally changed my name after the trial. Even though I was acquitted, all anyone remembered was that I was accused. I guess in most people’s eyes that automatically makes you a killer. I got sick of people recognizing my name. I had no choice but to change it and move away. It was the only way I could get any peace and start over again.”

Zambuco snorted. “Well, that’s quite a story, Missy. I have to tell you, though, I’ve arrested killers who had better stories. Your previous altercations with Blunt, the fact that you assimilated yourself here on the island under an assumed identity and then fought with the victim is enough for me to bring you in.”

“Wait a minute!” Shane cut in. “She’s been living here for several years. How could she possibly have known that Blunt would eventually show up here? You can’t seriously think that this was premeditated?”

Zambuco folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, really? Then tell me, where was Sarah that night? And for that matter where were
you
, Shane? I happen to know that you left Bob Cleary’s shortly before the time of the murder after conspiring with Sarah on the phone. But when we asked you about it, you said you went straight home. I think that was a lie. It seems to me the two of you may be in on it together. Or maybe you did it on your own as a favor to your girlfriend. I might have to arrest you
both
.”

Dom’s gut tightened. He remembered Bob had said Shane was going to stop Sarah from doing something. He didn’t want to say that out loud, though, just in case Bob hadn’t given the details to Zambuco. He was having a hard time believing that Sarah was the killer, especially since the twine was still there and in light of Sarah’s sad story. But, then again, Shane
had
lied to them—and apparently to the police—about where he went after he'd dropped off Bob.

“I did lie,” Shane admitted. His eyes flicked to Dom and Claire. “And I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t think it had any bearing on the case because Sarah didn’t kill Blunt and neither did I.”

“Then why did you lie?” Claire asked.

Shane sighed. “Sarah has been very upset that Blunt was on the island trying to take the farms from Mae and Tom the same as he took the restaurant from her parents. She knew that he was using tactics that might be illegal and she wanted to expose him for what he was doing. She thought she could help Mae and Tom from suffering the same fate her parents did.

“She called me while I was bringing Bob home. She’d seen Blunt’s car in the public parking lot by the pier. She thought there might be some evidence as to his illegal activities in the car and wanted to break in. I begged her not to, though, because I figured if she stole things out of the car it wouldn’t be admissible in court. At least that’s how it is on TV.”

“Break in? That’s funny.” Zambuco narrowed his eyes at Sarah. “Bob Cleary’s house was broken into just today. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

Dom conjured up images of the empty spot in Bob’s china cabinet. Did Sarah and Shane break in and steal the
Crabby
? Sarah couldn’t have been the person he'dseen—she wouldn’t have had time to get back here so quickly, but Shane showed up much later. Then again,
why
would they steal it? Why would anyone? It didn’t make any sense.

“Of course not,” Sarah said. “I don’t even know how to break into a house. Besides, I’ve been here all day. You can ask Nancy in the kitchen.”

Zambuco turned to Shane. “What about you?”

“Why would I break in?” Shane asked.

Zambuco seemed stumped on that one. “Let’s get back to the night of the murder. So, you left Bob Cleary’s and rushed over to stop Sarah?”

Shane nodded. “That’s right. I talked her out of it and she stayed at my place. But neither one of us went to the pier and neither one of us saw Blunt.”

Zambuco twisted his face up. “That’s great. So you guys are each other’s alibi then? And I’m supposed to believe that?”

Dom was vaguely aware of the door opening behind them. His gut churned for Sarah. He hated that potential customers would see her trying to persuade Zambuco of her innocence, especially if she
was
innocent. Dom imagined this scenario must remind her of the first time she was accused of killing Blunt.

Sarah lifted her chin and looked Zambuco in the eye. “It’s the truth.”

“I think this is the biggest crock of crab dip I’ve ever heard.” Zambuco gestured to Robby. “Cuff them both and put them in the police car.”

Robby’s eyes ping-ponged uncertainly from Zambuco to Claire. Dom could tell he didn’t think Sarah or Shane had done it. But then again, Robby was born on the island and islanders stuck together.

Robby unhooked the cuffs from his belt and slowly started toward Sarah.

“Hold it right there!” a voice said from behind Dom. “You can’t arrest her. She didn’t do it.”

They spun around to see a blond man standing silhouetted in the doorway.

“And just how do you know that Mr.
Naughton
?” Zambuco accentuated the name, leaving no doubt that he knew it was not the man’s real name.

“Because I did it.
I
killed Melvin Blunt.”