Murder for the Halibut (30 page)

Before Ray could respond, Jordan gasped. “Now I get it. That’s why Emily killed him.
She said Goose came to her room demanding a million dollars. He must’ve used the info
he got from this nurse to research Anna. Somehow he made the connection between Anna
and Emily, then threatened to expose her if she didn’t pay up.”

“Good Lord! What that man wouldn’t do for money,” Lola exclaimed before adding, “I
guess he felt like he was drowning in debt trying to keep his wife in that nice facility.”

“That and keeping the thugs from roughing him up or worse when he got back to Miami,”
Alex said.

Ray’s eyebrow arched. “What do you mean?”

“The report from Miami mentioned Jerry Goosman took quite a beating before this trip.”

“We know,” Lola interrupted. “He intervened when some kid was getting the snot kicked
out of him. Goose ended up taking a few hits himself.”

“That’s what he told the police in the emergency room that night, but they didn’t
buy it. Number one, there were no reports of a banged-up kid in any of the local hospitals,
and two, word on the street was that Goose was into a vicious loan shark for a lot
of money. The cops think the beating was a reminder not to be late on the payment.”

“It’s all starting to make sense now,” Ray said.

Alex narrowed his eyes in deep thought. “I’m wondering how Goose knew to contact Watson
at all.”

“I saw him go back into the bar after we all left that day,” Jordan said. “At the
time I thought he was just going
to hook up with that woman who stopped him on the way out and seemed to know him more
intimately than just as a business partner.”

“You’ve probably just solved the mystery of how and why Goose was killed,” Alex said.
“Since Beau is dead, I guess we can close the books on Charlese Lincoln’s death, too.
He was the only one who stood to gain anything with her out of the picture.”

“Emily killed her,” Jordan blurted. “Not deliberately, though. It was another failed
attempt to get to Beau.”

“How in the hell did she manage to do that?” Ray asked before shaking his head. “I’m
beginning to think either Emily Thorpe was the smartest woman alive, or I need to
bone up on my criminal investigation skills.”

“You and me both, Ray.” Alex laughed before turning back to Jordan. “This is getting
good. Tell us how she pulled that one off.”

“I’m not a hundred percent sure exactly how she did it, but she mentioned she’d coated
a cocktail glass with a sedative before she handed Goose a drink that night. When
he got suspicious, she poured herself a glass from the same bottle, making him think
there wasn’t anything harmful in the whiskey. A fatal mistake on his part since she
was able to lead him to her balcony before he totally passed out.”

“But how could she have done that with Beau’s drink? The waiter said he personally
delivered it to Beau and Charlese that night,” Lola asked.

“I don’t know,” Jordan said, hitching one shoulder. “Didn’t the waiter say Emily was
in the kitchen when Beau ordered the drinks? My guess is she found an opportunity
to lace the inside of the cocktail glass with cyanide,
thinking Charlese would be safe because she’d drink from the champagne glass.”

“Sounds plausible,” Ray said. “What Emily had no way of knowing is that Beau would
refuse the drink—”

“Probably,” Jordan interrupted, “because he was hot to trot to get to Marsha’s room
for a quickie.”

Ray nodded. “And once Charlese finished the champagne, she poured herself a glass
of Beau’s Scotch in the tainted glass, then headed for the theater to confront her
cheating husband.”

“I can’t help but admire Emily a little,” Lola said. “Two big powerful men—Beau and
her uncle, and three, if you count Goose—came at her intending to hurt her in some
way, and she managed to take them out.”

Jordan smiled at her friend and mouthed,
Thank you for that
. It was just the right amount of humor to whittle away some of the guilt she felt
for not being able to help Emily. After all she’d endured—the horrible living conditions
in Colombia and the humiliation she’d suffered because of Beau—she’d figured out a
way to survive. At least until the pain had become so overwhelming, she couldn’t deal
with it anymore.

But the reality was that in Emily’s quest for revenge on Beau, two innocent people
had also died. And even if Goose wasn’t totally without blame, he still didn’t deserve
to die the way he did, either.

Jordan decided she wasn’t there to judge—Someone way more powerful than her had that
job. For now, it was enough to know that Emily was finally at peace.

The gang was subdued while they waited in port to go through Immigrations and Customs,
the final step of their Caribbean cruise. Given everything that had happened aboard
the
Carnation Queen
, this vacation was one Jordan would never forget.

They collected their bags, cleared Customs, and hailed a taxi back to the hotel in
Miami. Since the flight to Dallas was scheduled for early the next morning, they planned
to have a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant and then hang out for a few hours in
the piano bar. But first, the women were going to take a trip to the facility where
Mary Alice Goosman lived. As it turned out, that part of Goose’s story was not a lie.

The plan was to tell Mary Alice in person why Goose would no longer be coming to see
her. Not that she’d
understand, but they’d talked it over and decided it was the least they could do.
Ray had received information from Orlando about the nursing home where Goose’s wife
resided and had even managed to get his hands on Goose’s other orange and blue plaid
shirt before the cops came on board and went through his stuff. They intended to leave
the shirt with the woman in the hope it might bring her comfort in some small way.

After everyone was settled in the hotel, the three women set out to find the nursing
home twenty miles from their hotel, according to the concierge. In the taxi on the
ride over, they decided Jordan would do the talking, and Rosie and Lola would act
as backup.

The taxi pulled up to a large building, the front yard of which bloomed with more
flowers than Jordan had ever seen in one place other than a botanical garden. She
took it as a good sign since she’d imagined an Alzheimer’s facility as being dark
and ominous-looking, with screaming patients and foul odors.

They hopped out of the car and instructed the driver to wait. Silently, they strode
up the walkway just as George Christakis sauntered out of the building. His face lit
up when he saw them.

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asked, confused. George didn’t even know Goose.

“One of the security cops from the ship told me about Goose’s wife. I had a few hours
to kill before my flight leaves for New York, and I thought I would run by and give
her my condolences.” He lowered his eyes but not before Jordan saw a tear threaten
to spill over.

Jordan turned to the others. “Can you guys give us a few minutes? There’s something
I want to say to George.”

Rosie nodded and led Lola to the bench in front of a gorgeous display of yellow and
blue flowers.

Jordan grabbed George’s elbow and walked with him to a waiting cab. “I haven’t had
a chance to tell you how sorry I am for your loss, George. I know how much Emily meant
to you.”

He sniffed before the beginning of a smile crossed his face. “I loved her like a daughter,
and I’ll miss her terribly. I had no idea her pain was that deep. I’m grateful that
you offered her friendship, because she didn’t make friends easily.”

“It was hard not to like her.”

“I know. Well, I guess this is good-bye. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have met
you, Jordan McAllister. Just thinking about you makes me smile.” He reached out and
took her in his arms. “My offer is open for you to come to New York and visit any
time you want. You can stay with Jeremy and me just like Emily did.”

“I’d like that,” she said, knowing it would probably never happen. “It was a pleasure
to meet you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, my dear.” He slid into the backseat of the cab and shut
the door.

Jordan watched the cab drive away before heading over to where Rosie and Lola waited.

“He is such a nice man,” Rosie said. “Too bad he’s already spoken for.”

“Most of the good ones are,” Lola said, shaking her head. “Come on. We’d better get
in there and get this over with.”

Jordan opened the door slowly, wishing there was some way they could get out of this
but knowing it was something they had to do.

Once inside, they were greeted by a nice-looking older woman at the front desk who
directed them to the administrator’s office. There they were met by a tall, slender
middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Nancy Lockhart.

“We’re friends of Mary Alice Goosman’s husband,” Jordan explained. “Unfortunately,
we’ve come with bad news for her. Goose was killed on the cruise ship this week.”

Expecting the woman to be surprised, maybe even a little upset, Jordan was confused
when she didn’t even react.

“We already know. George Christakis was just here.” She smiled. “What a lovely man.
He explained what had happened and assured us that he would be taking care of Mary
Alice’s room and board as long as she’s alive.”

Jordan stared, unable to speak. Why would George get involved with a woman he didn’t
even know? She was about to ask that question when Rosie beat her to it.

“Why would the famous celebrity chef do that? He doesn’t even know her.” Rosie had
the same unbelieving look on her face as Jordan knew she must have on hers.

“He said he was friends with the woman responsible for Goose’s death and explained
she had also been killed on the ship,” the administrator said. “Apparently, he and
his son will inherit this woman’s money. Mr. Christakis felt since Goose could no
longer take care of his wife, it was the least he could do in the other woman’s name.
He said there were extenuating circumstances involved, and despite the fact that his
friend had taken Goose’s life, she had been a fair and decent person. He felt sure
she would be pleased with the way he was spending some of her money.”

Jordan choked up. She’d been dreading coming to see Goose’s wife because she’d have
to tell her Goose was never coming to visit her again. But she also hated knowing
without Goose’s financial support, Mary Alice would have to be transferred to one
of those facilities that her husband had lied, cheated, and stole to keep her out
of.

“Can we see her?” She was still fighting to hold back tears.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Her moments of lucidity have almost completely
disappeared. I sat with her a little while ago and explained that her husband won’t
be coming to see her anymore. How much of it she comprehended, we’ll never know.”
The administrator stood. “She seems to have gone into a shell and won’t talk to any
of us. A visit from all of you might confuse her more. I hope you understand.”

Jordan blew out a relieved sigh. “Of course. Thank you so much for telling us about
her.” She handed the women Goose’s blue and orange plaid shirt. “Give this to her
when you think it’s best. She may remember that she gave it to him. Maybe it’ll bring
her some comfort.”

“Thank you. I know she’ll be glad to have it one day—just not today.”

With nothing further to say, the three of them walked out the door and climbed into
the cab.

The mood was
very somber that night at the hotel. During dinner Jordan brought the men up to speed
on their visit to the nursing home. Ray admitted to having had a conversation with
George Christakis that morning, after hearing Emily’s story. He’d planned on giving
him only
the basics, but when the New York chef heard about Goose’s wife, he’d taken a special
interest.

What Christakis had ended up doing for Mary Alice—and for Goose—went above and beyond,
but it didn’t surprise Jordan. She’d known from the moment George had sneaked the
mint under the table after the horrible sweetbread incident that he was an extraordinary
man. Emily had been lucky to have him in her life. And just as he’d taken Emily under
his wing, the man had made sure that Mary Alice Goosman would live out the rest of
her life in comfort.

The next morning they boarded the plane to Dallas. Rosie switched seats with Alex
so he could sit next to Jordan. Since he would have to go back to playing FBI in another
day or two, Jordan intended to make the most of what little time they had left.

Snuggling closer, she asked, “How long will you be able to stay in Ranchero this time?”

He pushed back the hair that had fallen over her eye. “Oh, I don’t know. Two or three
years maybe.”

She straightened up and faced him. “You didn’t quit your job, did you?”

He laughed. “Not hardly. I got promoted.”

“Oh my God! You definitely deserve it, but how will that keep you in Ranchero for
a few years?” She almost hated to ask, worried his next words would burst her little
bubble of hope.