Death in Paradise (15 page)

Maybe the reason I liked Jolene so much was because we shared a common prejudice. My reaction to Rory had been the same. "Is she here tonight? I haven't seen her."

"She said she wasn't up to seeing people. She was going to have a quiet supper in her room and then get some sleep. I asked her if she could give me the backup information about tomorrow. I thought if we'd had two screw-ups we could probably count on more. She said she'd get to it and leave the information for me at the desk and would I please go away and leave her alone, she'd been hassled enough by our group." She looked at me. "I assume she meant you, Thea?"

"Oh, I'm a world-class hassler, Jolene. Ask anyone. Did you get the information?"

"Not yet." Jolene folded her hands demurely in front of her. "But if it isn't at the desk after dinner, I'm going to demonstrate that even a quiet old library lady like myself can do a bit of hassling when necessary."

"Mind if I join you ladies?" Rob Greene pulled out a chair and sat down. "I couldn't help myself," he said, pointing at his heaping plate. "I had to have seconds. I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised. I wasn't expecting much from a canned luau."

"Guess I'll follow your example," Jonetta said. "That was a nice snack, but if I'm going to have to keep sorting things out physically, I've got to keep up my strength."

Rob stared after her, a puzzled look on his face. "What's she talking about?"

I could have hugged him. If Rob, who didn't miss much, had missed our spectacular assault on the ladies' food fight, that meant most of the others had probably missed it, too. It was the best news I'd had all day.

"Why, Rob," Shannon drawled, in a deliberate imitation of herself. "You didn't see Jonetta and Thea breakup that fight in the dinner line? Why, Ahv nevah seen anything lahk it. Spectaculah, darlin.' Were Ah you..." She reverted to her normal voice. The drawl just took too long to say anything. "I wouldn't cross either one of them. They are two dangerous ladies."

But Rob wasn't listening. Up on the stage, lovely young women were making their hips do extraordinary things. "How do they do that?" he muttered.

"Practice," Zannah said. "I took a belly dancing course once." We all stared. Zannah was a petite size 2 who would never top one hundred pounds. She barely had hips, never mind a belly. "You'd be amazed at what you can learn to do...." She trailed off, staring at something behind me. "Would you look at that!"

I turned. A dead-drunk Rory in a skintight scarlet dress was teetering toward us on skyscraper heels, clutching a bunch of papers. Her makeup had been applied with such an unsteady hand she looked like a caricature, a dreadful Liza Minnelli clown face. When she got within about ten feet, she stopped and heaved the papers at us, scattering them all over the ground. "There, bitches," she said loudly. "You've got what you want. Now leave me alone." She turned and started to weave her way back through the crowd. Despite the dancers on stage, everyone was staring.

"Go after her, Rob," Jolene whispered. "Don't let her make a fool of herself."

Rob hurried after her, whispered something, and tucked her arm through his. By the time they'd reached the path through the hedge that was the exit, he was half carrying her.

"I wonder what life does for an encore?" Shannon said. We didn't have to wait long to find out.

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

I had just sunk my teeth into a succulent grilled shrimp when someone slapped a hand down on my shoulder so hard I almost inhaled it. The shrimp, not the hand. The hand lifted and Lewis Broder landed in the seat beside me. He smelled of alcohol and tobacco and he was breathing both into my face with every angry exhalation. The look on his face would have frightened babies. I considered running away. I already knew I wasn't interested in what he had to say and that whatever it was, it wasn't going to please me. I could tell all that from the way he'd thumped me upon arrival. But running away, even when I should, is not my style.

"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?" were the first words out of his mouth as he slapped a palm on the table. "What are you trying to do, ruin my life?"

"This is something you want the whole table to hear?" I asked, moving my chair farther away.

"It doesn't make a damned bit of difference now," he said. "Now that you've gone and blabbed to the police."

People at other tables had turned and were staring at us curiously. The last thing we wanted right now was another commotion. "I will not discuss this here, Lewis," I said. "If you want to have an acrimonious discussion based on some wrongheaded assumptions you've made, we're taking it away from the party."

"Oh, 'acrimonious discussion,' " he mimicked. "What's the matter, afraid to have your friends know what you've done?"

I'd had enough of having my reputation tracked through the mud today. Being bullied by the cops I was used to. Being bullied by colleagues was something else. Something I wasn't going to tolerate. It was clear there was no shutting him up. We might as well get this out in the open, before the board members, at least. "I've done nothing, Lewis," I said. "I never mentioned your name or anything about you to the police."

"Like hell!" he exploded. I was surprised the hula dancers didn't stop to listen.

"Get a grip, Lewis," I snapped. "You may not care what people think, but I do. We've got a conference to run and you are not going to spoil everyone's good time with your self-centered display of drunken peevishness." I pushed back my chair and stood up. "Excuse me, I'm going to give Mr. Broder a chance to complain in private."

Jolene pushed back her own chair. "I'm coming with you. You've taken quite enough of today's burdens on your shoulders."

"I don't want
you
butting your nose in—" Broder began but Jolene cut him off. She rarely raised her voice, so when she did, people really paid attention.

"We are all people you have to continue to work with, Lewis," she said, "so consider this carefully. Are you quite sure you want to make an ass of yourself in front of everyone?"

While he was still gaping with amazement, she grasped his elbow and led him away from the crowd. As I followed them out, I heard Shannon's parting remark, "Way to go, Jolene," like we were a sports team and Jolene had just scored.

Jolene found a quiet bench overlooking the water, steered Lewis onto it, and sat down beside him, motioning for me to sit beside her. "Now, then, Lewis," she said, "what seems to be your problem?"

"She is," he hissed, pointing at me. "She sicced the cops on me."

Jolene clasped his pointing hand in both of hers and returned it to his lap. "Very rude to point, Lewis. Didn't your mother teach you that? Now, let me see if I understand your complaint correctly. The police have questioned you about your whereabouts last night because you were seen leaving the bar with a rather intoxicated Martina Pullman sometime around midnight, and you believe Thea is the source of their information?"

"Hey, how did you know about that?" He gave me a dirty look.

Jolene shrugged. "Grow up, Lewis. Thea wasn't the only one who saw you. Lots of people saw you. At least three of them have sidled up to me today and whispered about it in my ear. Followed, in all three cases, by the question, What did I suppose Maggie would think?" Maggie was Broder's wife, Margaret Ellis Broder, heiress to a packinghouse fortune, and the principal source of Broder's income, ambition, and position. Maggie was at home overseeing the preparations to send three small, perfect Broders away to three exclusive summer camps.

He jumped to his feet. "Goddamn it! I was so sure that—"

"Sit down, Lewis," she said. I noticed that she had never once raised her voice but there was nothing soft or wishy-washy about the way she was handling things. It confirmed what I'd always thought about Jolene—that she was the right choice for Martina's job. Jolene had enough vision to lead as Martina had, and far, far better organizational and people skills. "Now, I'm sure you understand, or you would understand if you took the pains to think about it, that all of us who have had close personal relationships with Martina, be they unfriendly or too friendly, are going to be noticed, and questioned, by the police. Right?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. "I suppose so."

"And each of us has a civic duty to cooperate."

"I don't see why," he said. "I didn't kill her. Beyond that, what happened between me and Martina is no one's business."

"I'm not sure Jeff Pullman and Maggie would agree with you, and I'm sure the police wouldn't."

"I already know what the police think. They sent a goddamned sumo wrestler after me. Never once cracked a smile. He just sat and stared at me with these eyes like polished stones and made me feel like a cheap suit. Asking what time I did this and what time I did that, and did I go to Martina's room and what happened there and what time did I leave and was there anyone who could corroborate my story. By the time he was done, I felt like I'd been tried and convicted and he was deciding how I ought to be executed."

I realized, from the way he slurred his words, that Lewis was more than a little drunk. There's nothing I like less than a man who gets drunk and whines. Unless it's a man who gets drunk and pounds on me to get my attention so that he can whine that his troubles are all my fault. I went out with a guy a lot like Lewis once. A banker. It didn't last. He thought he was God's gift to women when he wasn't even the booby prize. And boy, could he whine. Andre doesn't whine. He either says what's on his mind or he clams up and withdraws completely. I like it when he does the former and when he does the latter, I sometimes have to kick down the door and drag him out and then we have a nice big fight. But we also have the fun of making up.

"Did you go back to Martina's room?" Jolene asked.

"I had to help her upstairs," he said defensively. "She was drunk."

"So you took her to her room. Did you go in?"

"You sound just like that cop," he said, adding, with satisfaction, "and I didn't tell him anything, either." But it was obvious that he wanted to talk, because then he said, "She's just a big cock-teaser. Martina. There in the bar we were... she had... she put her hand on my thigh and... then she suggested we find someplace more private. I wasn't going to say no, was I? Only we kept getting interrupted." He glared at me. "First that little twit, works for her, hauling her out of the bar and lecturing at her like she was a child...." He stopped. "I ever had someone work for me do that, I'd..."

He lowered his head and shook it, like a bull shaking off flies. Then he waved an arm dismissively. "Then Thea does the same thing. Martina was some pissed off, let me tell you. She says just wait until the next board meeting, she's going to have some things to say about that and who does Ms. Thea stick-her-nose-where-it's-not-wanted Kozak think she is." He gave me a malicious smile. "She
really
didn't like you...."

"You were telling us about going upstairs," Jolene reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot. It's her—" He started to point at me and remembered Jolene's warning. "She's a troublemaker but she didn't stop us. No way. Martina and I, we went upstairs. She invited me in and we were going to... we were going to party." He grinned, like we were all guys in the bar together. "We even ordered up a nice little feast for ourselves. But then, she's gone into the other room to... you know... jus' like inna movies... sleep, uh, slip... into something more comfortable...."

He was tripping over his tongue now. It seemed almost unfair to let him continue in his debilitated state. I looked at Jolene and raised my eyebrows.

She shook her head. "And then?" she asked.

"The phone rings. I mean, it's after midnight and I'm wondering who could be calling, except maybe that sallow little weasel who works for her. Rory. She's always butting her nose in. Tried to break us up down in the bar, like she was Martina's nanny or something, ya know? So I say, if it's Rory, tell her to stuff it. Anyway, Martina answers the phone... all brisk, efficient, she's gonna get rid of whatever pest it is... she even winks at me as she goes to answer it, you know what I mean... and the next thing I know, I'm being hustled out the door like an unwelcome guest. I tried to talk to her. I tried to kiss her and bring back the mood and all I'm getting is not the 'Oh, Lewis' that I was getting minutes before. Now it's 'Oh, for heaven's sake, Lewis, will you please just go, I'm tired and it's late and I have an early meeting.' I mean, she had the same early meeting five minutes ago, too, didn't she? But no, I'm out in the hall with my hat handed to me and the door is shut and locked and I don't even know what's hit me, ya know?"

Jolene patted his arm. "Poor Lewis," she said. "That was kind of rough."

He grabbed her hand and held on. "You know it."

"Do you have any idea who was on the phone?"

He shook his head. "None. She didn't say a fuckin' word, pardon my French. But it made her happy, I can tell you that. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat when she got off. Grinning and smiling to herself, until she turned around and there I was and it was like she'd stepped in something nasty, ya know? One minute she can't wait to get me up there, she's rubbing herself against me like a cat in heat and the next minute she can't wait to get me out the door. Fickle bitch. I wish Maggie were here. None of this would have happened if Maggie could have come." He was sliding into that peculiar mix of maudlin and vulgar typical of those who have had too much to drink.