Dearly Depotted (27 page)

“It was one scam after another with Jack.” Melanie stopped to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. “The next time I saw him was at Jillian’s wedding.”

I glanced down by my chair and saw Josie happily rooting through my purse. She looked up and smiled at me, a tube of lipstick in one hand, a tampon in the other. I gently dislodged both items and decided to keep my purse in my lap. “Did Jack know you were going to be there?”

“I’m sure he figured it out. It was no secret that Jillian was having a big wedding.”

I read over the questions Marco and I had crafted. “Did you see Jack dressed in a waiter’s uniform?”

“I was aware of a waiter clearing away the empty plates at our table, but I didn’t really notice him in that costume. Then I heard his voice in my ear and I panicked. The last thing I wanted was for my father to recognize him and cause another scene. So I excused myself from the table to go to the ladies’ room, knowing Jack would follow me. That’s when he told me he had great news about his so-called big deal. I told him I didn’t want to hear about it and that I had to go back to the table before my father caught us, but he grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go until I’d promised to meet him at the gazebo. ‘Be there in fifteen minutes, Mel,’ he said.”

Her voice broke on the last sentence. She held the tissue to her eyes for a long time, then took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I know it’s upsetting to you. What time did that conversation take place?”

“I’m not sure. Around nine fifteen, I think.”

“Did you keep that meeting with Jack?”

“No,” she said at once. “I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. We left almost immediately after that.”

“I know Josie wasn’t sick, Melanie. So what was your hurry?”

She looked away, her face a mask of anguish.

“Did you tell your father that Jack asked you to meet him in the gazebo?”

“I had to,” she cried. “When I went back to our table I tried to pretend nothing had happened, but my father can read me like a book. He kept at me until I confessed everything.” She covered her face, weeping softly.

“Melanie?” I waited until she lifted her head to look at me, then I said, “Did your father meet Jack in the gazebo?”

Her chin quivered and tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I don’t know,” she said, then broke into heavy sobs. Upon hearing her mother’s distress, Josie joined in, holding out her chubby arms for her mother to pick her up.

Melanie wiped the tears from her own face, then plucked her baby from the floor and bounced her on her lap, murmuring soothing words against the top of her head until she quieted. Josie hiccuped noisily a few times, then spotted my green pen with BLOOMERS printed on it. She stretched out a hand, making grunting noises until I rolled it across the table and got another one from my purse. Josie grabbed the pen and banged it against the wood, her tears forgotten.

“Tell me exactly what happened after you told your father what Jack said.”

Melanie sniffled a few times. “He was furious. He told me to stay put, that he’d see to everything. I begged him not to make a scene but he said he only had to use the restroom. When he came back he was in a terrible temper and he wouldn’t talk to me, except to say we had to get home.”

“How long was he gone?”

“Ten minutes . . . I don’t know. It seemed like forever.” She gazed at me through red-rimmed eyes and whispered raggedly, “I think he killed Jack.”

I was stunned that she’d admitted it. “Did you tell this to the police?”

She grasped my hand, squeezing it in her cold one. “I can’t tell them. My father—”

With a frightened gasp she turned toward the window. In the distance I could hear a tractor engine chugging. We both glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only three forty-five.

Melanie jumped to her feet. “He must be coming in for more fuel. You have to leave right now.”

I had no problem with that.

 

 

 

 

C
lutching the baby in one arm, Melanie ran up the hall to the screen door and pushed it open, and I dashed out. My heart raced as I rounded the corner and nearly ran into Marco. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

“Josiah is coming,” I said, breathing hard. “We need to leave—now.”

“Let’s go.” He strode off toward the car with me right behind. We slid in, he started the motor, and we took off.

I swivelled to watch out the rear window, and once we were well away from the farm I turned excitedly. “Did you hear what Melanie said? She thinks her father killed Jack. Isn’t that great news?” I pounded the dashboard excitedly.

“You did a good job, sunshine. Congratulations.”

I opened my purse and dug through the contents. “I have to call Reilly and let him know he’s arrested the wrong man.”

“Whoa. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Melanie’s confession doesn’t clear Richard. It only throws doubt on her father’s story. If you call Reilly and tell him he made a mistake, he’ll get defensive, and you’ll never get his cooperation. What you need to do is
share
this with him and hope he’ll decide to give Josiah a closer look. That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” Marco handed me his cell phone. “He’s in my phone book. Give him a call and ask him sweetly if he’ll meet with us.”

I could do sweetly. I held the phone to my ear and waited while it rang. After the eighth ring I was all prepared to leave a message when he answered. I stammered in surprise, “Reilly! You’re there.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” he growled.

I pressed my lips into a thin line, a good retort on the tip of my tongue.

“Sweetly,” Marco reminded me.

Right. This was going to be harder than I thought. “Sherlock. Haha. That’s funny, Reilly,” I said, forcing a laugh.

“All right, what gives?” he demanded.

“Marco and I were just sitting here chatting about how you—being the top-notch cop you are—might be interested in some new information that’s come to light about Jack Snyder’s murder.”

I glanced at Marco and he gave me a thumbs-up.

“I thought I told you to bug Detective Williams about the case,” Reilly snapped.

“Right. Like I’d fall for that line again,” I said, then got a poke in the arm from Marco.

“Sweetly,” he warned.

“What I meant, Reilly, was that Marco told me
you
were the go-to man.”

“The goat what?”

My sweetness subscription was about to expire. “Not
goat.
Go-to. Go. To.”

Marco held out his hand and I gave him the phone. “Hey, man, it’s me. Gotta talk. Okay.” He glanced at me as he dropped the phone in his pocket. “It’s all set. We’re meeting him at the bar at five o’clock.”

“You got all that in two seconds?”

“You’d have to be male to understand.”

Thank goodness that would never happen.

 

With an hour to go before our meeting with Reilly, I hurried back to Bloomers, praying Grace hadn’t heard the news about Richard’s arrest, but I was too late.

“I sent Grace home,” Lottie told me. “She got a phone call that upset her so much she was shaking. She tried to pretend nothing was wrong—you know how she is—but she couldn’t even pour coffee without spilling it. I told her to take off early.”

“Damn. I wanted to tell her myself and soften the blow.”

“What blow? What did she hear?”

I let out my breath. “That Richard was arrested for Jack’s murder.”

Lottie gasped. “Oh, dear Lord. No wonder she was shaking. Poor Gracie. After all these years she finally meets someone she cares for—and this has to happen.” She paused. “You don’t think Richard is guilty, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Not after what Melanie told me. Josiah Turner is the one who should be in jail, and now I’ve got to meet with Reilly and convince him of that.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Call Grace and tell her that justice will prevail.”

Lottie gave me a high five and went to the phone. I crossed my fingers and hoped my message would make Grace feel better, because it wasn’t working on me.

At six minutes after five o’clock, Marco slid into the booth beside me. Just my luck, I was too keyed up to appreciate that the man with the sexiest swagger in town was sitting inches away. All I could think of was how Grace must be suffering.

Marco put a hand on the back of my neck and kneaded the muscles. “Relax, will you?”

Relax? When Richard’s life was at stake? I stopped drumming my fingers on the table so I could look at my watch. “Where’s Reilly? He said he’d meet us at five.”

“He’ll be here. Do you want a drink?” He motioned to Kim, one of the waitresses, who came right over.

“I’ll have an iced tea,” I told her. “I need to keep a clear head so I can present my case . . . I can see you rolling your eyes, Marco. Don’t make fun. I’m serious about this.”

“I’m not making fun, and you’re not presenting a case. We’re trying to get him on our side so we can gently steer him toward Josiah. We have to be smooth about this, sunshine, so we don’t ruffle his feathers. Remember, Reilly’s meeting with us as a favor to me. He doesn’t have to do this. Now, how are you going to talk to him?”

“Sweetly,” I grumbled.

As Kim was delivering my iced tea and two tall glasses of Beck’s, Reilly strolled in, spotted us, and came over. He’d changed out of his uniform and into a tan knit shirt and a pair of blue jeans that fit him rather nicely.

He took a seat opposite us, and Marco pushed one of the beers toward him. “My treat. I thought I remembered it was your favorite.”

I gave Marco a grateful glance. He knew how to do smooth.

Reilly nodded his thanks, took a long pull from the glass, then sat back with a sigh. “Long day.”

“I’ll bet it was,” Marco said, “and I want to thank you for seeing us. I wouldn’t have bothered you unless it was important.”

“I appreciate that.” Reilly eyed me as he took another sip, then said to Marco, “You want to tell me what this is about before she wiggles onto the floor?”

Marco gave me the nod, so I pulled out my notes and gave Reilly the whole accounting of my conversation with Melanie. Then I sat back to let the information sink in. “So there you have it. What do you think of Josiah now?”

Reilly looked skeptical. “Did Melanie see her father with Jack?”

“No,” I replied.

“Did she say what he used as a weapon?”

I shook my head.

“Did her father confess anything to her?”

I toyed with my straw. I could see where he was going with this, and I didn’t know how to stop him. “No, he didn’t confess anything to her, but—”

“So what do you have? Her suspicion that he killed Jack? I can’t go after Josiah for that.”

“But he lied about the baby being sick,” I said.

“So? What does that prove?”

“That he’s a liar,” I said, starting to bristle.

Marco laid a hand on my shoulder, his way of telling me to calm down. “You have to understand, Sean, Abby’s assistant has been dating Richard Davis, so naturally Abby is concerned, and that can make her a little touchy at times. Do you guys really have a strong case against Davis? Is there anything you can tell us to help us out?”

Marco was so smooth, I could have ice-skated across his lap.

Reilly hesitated, his gaze moving from Marco to me. “All right. I suppose I can tell you—it’s going to be a matter of public record anyway. First of all, Davis has a strong motive. Jack stole a lot of money from him. Second, Davis has an alibi that can’t be verified. Third, he was involved in a murder back in Texas a few years ago.”

“How involved?” I asked.

“We’re still trying to determine that. The detective who worked on the case is apparently away on a fishing trip.”

“You didn’t even wait to find out if Richard was guilty before you arrested him?”
I wanted to say. But that wouldn’t have been smooth, so I pressed my fingers against the icy glass, forced a smile, and tried a different tactic. “So did you ever recover a weapon?”