Murder on the Bucket List (13 page)

twenty

Francine waved from the
porch as the big Buick backed out of the driveway. As soon as she was certain Charlotte was gone, she got in her Prius and drove to Alice and Larry's house. Time was of the essence. Jonathan's car was already there.

Alice answered the door and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thanks for being here.”

She squeezed Alice back. “How can I help?”

“Just listen, and ask the questions I forget to ask. I'm so frazzled. It's like Larry is someone I don't know.”

She did look frazzled. Her hair was normally teased and combed so that it puffed out at her ears and de-emphasized her lengthy face. Today her hair was flat and close to her head and emphasized her nose, which was not Alice's best feature. Francine took a deep breath and put her arm
around Alice's shoulders. “Let's go in.”

Walking through the familiar French doors into the living room, Francine could see the stress was wreaking havoc on Alice's impeccable housekeeping. Half-empty teacups sat abandoned in saucers on the coffee table and on the ledge of the bay window. Haphazardly folded newspapers lay on the floor beside the couch.

And Larry looked even worse. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Seated in the recliner by the couch, his no-longer-distinguished gray hair stuck out at all angles. His goatee hadn't been trimmed in a week or more. And for a tall man, he appeared to have shrunk everywhere.

Jonathan sat on the couch in the business casual clothes he'd worn to work. When he saw Francine, he patted the seat next to him. She joined him, but Alice chose a seat across the room from Larry, almost deliberately distancing herself.

Larry wrung his hands. “I don't have an alibi for the night Friederich was killed because I came home from Las Vegas a day early to meet with someone, but that person didn't show up.”

“Who was it?” Jonathan asked.

“Good question,” snapped Alice. “I hope you get an answer out of him, because he won't tell me.”

Larry shook his head. “No one can know. Not yet. Not until I see this person face-to-face.”

“Maybe I can arrange a meeting,” Jonathan said.

“That's the problem, don't you see? Then I'd have to tell you who it is.”

Francine kept her voice soft. “How did you arrange to meet this person in the first place?”

“I sent a letter.”

“Why do you want to meet?”

His voice was shaky. “I have some information this person needs to know.”

“They were supposed to meet in the parking lot where Friederich's garage is.” Alice spit out the information like she was getting rid of a bite of moldy fruit. “Isn't that ironic?”

“But that should be good, shouldn't it, at least as far as an alibi is concerned?” Francine said. “You have all that surveillance equipment. It should have recorded that you were there.”

“I disabled it.”

The missing footage on Saturday night
, Francine thought.

“Whatever for?”

“If this person didn't like the information I was going to give them, I didn't want it to be recorded. I wouldn't ever want to see it again. That's all I'm going to say about that.”

Jonathan crossed his arms over this chest. “Does your lawyer know who this person is?”

“Yes, but he didn't know about the meeting. No one knew.”

“Why did you ask us here?”

“As soon as I can meet with this person, I will tell you everything. Alice first, of course. I'm going to do that soon. But in the meantime, the police have uncovered something that I partially hid from Alice, and I fully hid from you, and you both deserve apologies before you learn it the hard way. I don't know how to do it other than to tell you together, because it's hard and I don't want to have to do it twice.”

Alice looked stunned. Jonathan leaned forward in anticipation.

Larry got up and took Alice's hand. She let him do it. He said, “You remember when my grandparents died?”

She nodded.

“And you remember that they left me some money?”

“It was a nice amount,” Alice said. “About two hundred thousand dollars. Our real estate business took off because we had that backing.”

Larry bit his lip. “There was much more. Well over a million dollars more. But for reasons I can't explain right now, I moved it to an offshore bank and hid it from you, and from my accountant, who is also one of my best friends, and I'm so sorry. When I can finally tell you the reason, I hope you'll both forgive me.”

Alice almost seemed relieved. “Larry, it's only money. I don't love money, I love you. Why didn't you tell me this before? I don't like this secret rendezvous you were planning the night Friederich died, but the money's not important.”

“It's not the money, it's how I spent it.”

“It's gone?”

“Not all of it, but most of it.”

Alice shoulders sagged. Francine thought she seemed more exasperated than angry. “What did you spend it on? Something foolish?”

“I can never call it foolish. But I've been reckless, Alice, and I'm honestly sorry about that.”

Alice stood up. “Well, if we're going to apologize for things we regret, let me give you one. I hired a private detective to follow you to Las Vegas. You've been acting strangely for six months now, and when you snatched up this trip, suddenly having to go to Las Vegas, I became suspicious.”

Larry narrowed his eyes, almost indignant. “You had me followed?”

“Wait a minute,” Francine said, turning to Alice. “If you had him followed, then did you know that he'd come back early?”

“Not until Sunday afternoon when the detective told me. I guess Larry caught him off guard with the second roundtrip ticket Saturday, and he couldn't get one fast enough to follow him home by the time he figured out where Larry was going.”

“So Larry lied about being in Las Vegas, and you kept the police in the dark by pretending you were talking to him there, even though you knew he was in Indianapolis?”

“I didn't know where he was exactly, only that he had come through the Indianapolis airport. He could have rented a car and driven anywhere.”

“And when you came to Bridge Club last night, you weren't quite truthful with us, either?”

“I'm sorry, Francine. I'd been keeping up the fantasy that Larry was out of town because I believed, and still do, that he had nothing to do with Friederich's murder.”

Jonathan slid forward on the couch. “Too bad the detective didn't get back in time to follow you that night. If he had, then you'd have an alibi.”

“I guess I would.”

“I want to give you that alibi,” Alice said. “I really do. The detective called a few friends in the business, but none of them could cover him, so he ended up calling a reporter friend. He swore the guy to secrecy, and he supposedly followed you from the airport for the rest of the night.”

“But this is great! He should know I spent most of the night in the parking lot, hoping this person would show up. He should be able to testify to that.”

“He might, but no one can find him. The detective's tried to get hold of him but hasn't been successful. It's one of the reasons I didn't get called right away. The detective kept trying to reach the reporter so he'd know where Larry went.”

“Who's the reporter?”

“Jeff Kramer.”

Francine recognized the name. Charlotte had just told her he'd done the articles on Jake Maehler and Friederich Guttmann. “He's a reporter for the
Flyer
,” she said.

And the fact that the editor had told Charlotte he'd taken a few days off and hadn't been seen since made the hair on the back of Francine's neck stand up.

twenty-one

Alice announced that she'd
like to talk to Francine alone, so the two of them went to the kitchen. Alice leaned against the marble countertop of the center island and let her head drop back, staring at the ceiling. Whether it was in contemplation or disbelief, Francine wasn't sure. “What do you think?” Alice finally asked.

“I don't know what to think. He doesn't sound like he's fallen out of love with you at any rate. But he has so many secrets.”

“I don't have a clue who this person was he was meeting or how he or she relates to Friederich, but I figure it's got to be tied together. I think there must be a connecting reason he chose to meet in the parking lot at Friederich's garage. Why else choose that spot?”

Francine helped herself to a handful of mixed nuts from a bowl on the island. Stress had a way of turning her into a nervous nibbler. “Just why do the police suspect Larry? What could he possibly have to gain by killing Friederich? Just because they argued about the rent doesn't mean he'd kill him for it. It couldn't be that much money.”

Alice picked a couple of almonds out of the nut bowl. “I suppose it's all going to come out eventually, but promise me you won't say anything for now. When Friederich fell so far behind in his payments, Larry threatened to take possession of the workshop and everything in it. That really upset Friederich, naturally. Larry had hoped it might make the rent a priority. Apparently it didn't. The police know about Larry's threat.”

Francine mentally reviewed what she'd seen in the garage. She couldn't imagine that Friederich's tools and equipment were valuable enough to kill for. But she also remembered something from what she and Jonathan had watched. “Have you seen the video from Larry's surveillance equipment?”

“He showed it to me. It was an attempt to demonstrate he's being as honest with me as he can right now. I'm afraid I don't remember much of it.”

“I'm wondering if maybe Friederich was developing some kind of new racing technology. There was a point in the video when he brought in a brown sack that must have had something to do with his work, but he shut down the video feed before he opened it. It was like he didn't want the camera to know what it was. When the video came back up, Friederich was gone.”

Alice sounded doubtful. “A new technology would be something Larry would kill for?”

“I didn't say it would be. I'm just saying the police might believe it.”

“What part of the car was he working on?”

“Jonathan said it was the shocks.”

Alice popped another almond in her mouth. “Larry is
not
a killer, but we can ask him if Friederich was developing any kind of valuable technology. If there's something to it, we need to convince the police Larry wasn't interested enough to kill for it.”

Francine found she had another handful of nuts in her hand. She dumped them back in the bowl and gave the bowl to Alice. “Please hide these things.”

Alice tucked the bowl in a drawer. “What do you think I should do?”

“About Larry?”

“Of course about Larry! Who else are we talking about? Should I kick him out of the house? I hate to, but a few nights in a hotel with the police breathing down his neck might convince him to either tell me what's going on or meet with this mysterious person and tell them whatever it is he's got to tell them.”

Francine tried to think if she'd do that to Jonathan. It was hard to imagine herself in the position Alice was in. “I think you should err on the side of kindness.”

The women heard a knock on the door frame. Jonathan stood outside the entry. “Larry left to go see the lawyer,” he said.

Alice pushed herself off the bar. “I guess Larry and I will have to talk later, then.”

“Do you want us to stay.”

“I'll be okay.”

Francine gave her a hug. “If you need anything, call me.”

“I'll see you tomorrow at Mary Ruth's luncheon.”

“You'll be there?”

“I have to have something to do other than stew about this situation with Larry.”

Alice saw them out. Since they'd driven separately, Francine had to postpone any questions until she and Jonathan got home. She noticed a couple of cars parked on the curb, but she didn't think anything of them until she passed them and they started their motors. To her alarm, they swung in behind Jonathan's truck and followed them back to their house. They parked a short distance down the street.

Francine was frantic. After Jonathan had pulled in and the garage door went down, she hurried over to his truck. “Did you see those two cars?”

He nodded. “Who do you suppose they are?”

“I don't know, but earlier today I thought I was being followed when I came home from Danville. They went straight when I pulled into the subdivision, so I decided it was my imagination.”

They went into the house and looked out the front window of the great room. Francine did it discreetly from the side, but Jonathan defiantly stood in front of the glass. The two cars were still there. “Either we're both hallucinating,” he said, “or we were followed.” He stepped back so he was no longer in clear view. “What were you in Danville for, or do I want to know?”

“You remember how we decided that someone might be trying to frame Larry? Joy and I went to the assessor's office to try to find out how someone could have learned Larry had leased that property to Friederich. It wasn't public knowledge. It was like Larry was hiding something.”

“How do you know it wasn't public knowledge?”

“Joy talked to
Rob Seneff at the Chamber.”

Jonathan tensed. “What did Rob say?”

“Joy felt he knew something about the building, but he was hiding it.” She watched her husband become more and more uncomfortable. “You wouldn't know anything more about that building, would you? You knew about the hidden computer.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe.”

“You want to elaborate on that?”

“Not right now.”

She pressed him. “The auditor's records showed the building was listed at two thousand square feet, half of it business and half of it storage. There's no way Friederich's business occupies more than a thousand square feet. Where's the other thousand?”

He didn't answer.

“A basement is the logical answer,” she continued. “But I didn't see any stairs.”

He squirmed. “I hate to claim client confidentiality, but I'm going to.”

“Jonathan. It's me, your wife. Don't go pulling a Larry on me.”

“You deserve answers, I agree. And Larry needs to stop stalling.” He pulled out his keys. “He said he was going to see the lawyer. I'm going to try to get into that meeting. I'm bothered by a lot of things, not the least that he hid over a million dollars in an offshore account and that he's spent most of it on something he won't tell Alice or me about.”

“In the forty-five years we've been married, you've never pulled this client confidentiality thing on me.”

“We've never dealt with a situation like this before, where you're asking me for details about someone we both know.”

She reached for his hand. “Promise me when this is over, that you won't keep secrets from me.”

The phone rang. He moved to get it, but she wouldn't let go of his hand. “Let it go to the answering machine.”

“This is Darla Baggesen,” the chipper voice said on the other end.

Francine rolled her eyes.
Like she needs to tell us her last name.
But then Darla said something that made Francine wish she'd answered it. “Just wanted you to know I'm not bringing Sara with me tomorrow to the luncheon at your house. Thought you should know so you can get Mary Ruth an accurate count of how many she'll be catering for. Good-bye.”

Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest. “What luncheon tomorrow?”

“I was going to tell you about it. Really.”

“This is connected to the murder, isn't it?”

“Mary Ruth wants to get more catering jobs, too, so it's kind of yes and kind of no.”

“Sounds like kind of yes to me.”

Francine felt resigned. “Okay,” she said, and filled him in on Charlotte's theory that the murderer's choice of the shed to store the body pointed to a neighbor being involved at some level, and that the killer always returns to the scene of the crime. As she started in on the selection of the guest list and having Jud there to presumptively to talk about a neighborhood watch program, she started to think the plan sounded absurd. But Jonathan nodded his head.

“So you're keeping secrets, too?”

“Not big ones, like Larry.”

“I don't keep big ones from you either. Trust me on this. And it's okay. Fran, if we knew each other so well that we could predict each other's moves every time, how boring would that be! I know I'd miss it if you didn't show up on
Good Morning America
every once in a while in a wet sundress.”

She hugged him. “Don't ever fall out of love with me.”

“Never,” he said, encircling her in his arms.

They stayed that way for awhile. “I only wish we could come up with a better suspect than Larry. Charlotte's trying to make a case against Jake Maehler. It's just not very strong.”

“Would it help to know Jake Maehler doesn't have an alibi for the night Friederich was killed?”

“What? How do you know that?”

“It was something Larry said before you got there.”

“How would he know?”

“I have no idea. He's still a big fan of Jake's, but let's be honest. It's to his advantage right now that Jake doesn't have an alibi either.”

Francine's cell phone rang. She checked the number and held up the phone. “It's Joy.”

He shrugged. “You better take it. It's risky to not keep up with what Joy and Marcy are concocting.”

She answered.

“Have you been on the Internet lately?” Joy asked.

“I just haven't had time …”

“The YouTube video of our
GMA
appearance went over its millionth viewing an hour ago. We're number one!”

“I'm glad you're happy but—”

“So Marcy used that to get the
People
magazine people to agree to do a feature. They're hiring some local talent to interview us on Saturday and then follow us around taking photos.”

“Wait a minute. I haven't signed up for this kind of thing, and I'm certain Alice and Mary Ruth won't agree to it, either.” She would have added Charlotte, but she was worried her friend was getting accustomed to the attention, even if it didn't always show her in the best light.

“You're wrong about Mary Ruth. Marcy knows Ted Allen—he's from Indiana—and she's talking to him about getting her a guest spot on the Food Network. He thinks they can work her into the next season of
Chopped
. Mary Ruth's convinced it will do wonders for her catering business.”

“I don't like the idea of cameras following me around. I thought you didn't like it at the Courthouse Grounds when people pointed their cell phones at you.”

“That was before the CBS interview came through. Marcy was right. We nailed our appearance on
GMA
, and now everyone wants us. The CBS morning show is bidding against
GMA
for me to be their senior citizen correspondent. I have to film a sample segment and have it in New York on Monday. Marcy and I are working on a script this afternoon.”

Jonathan tinkled his keys and indicated he was going to leave.

“Don't go getting a big head, Joy. And don't forget we have that luncheon tomorrow. No press. I won't let them in my house.” She nodded her head that it was okay for Jonathan to go, even if they hadn't quite finished their conversation.

Joy continued to babble. “If you don't let them in, they'll only camp out on the lawn. Haven't you noticed yourself being followed? I don't know if they're official press or celebrity stalkers, but there are two vehicles I don't recognize parked on my curb.”

Francine checked to make sure the two she had were still there. “Yep, we've got two as well. Jonathan is getting ready to leave. Maybe one or both of them will follow him.”

“Anyway, I'm guessing from your attitude that you wouldn't like a guest spot on
The View
.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Marcy's already working on it. I'll tell her, but I think it's almost a done deal.”

“No. That's my final word.” And she hung up in anger.

Neither of the cars followed Jonathan, to her dismay. They stayed put.

Her iPhone rang again. This time it was Charlotte. “What are you doing right now, Francine?”

“I don't even know. What do you need?”

“I got a breakthrough. You remember I said we needed to get into Friederich's house? I got it arranged.”

“You didn't! It's illegal.”

“The realtor I'm working with thinks it's not. At least not too illegal.”

“I don't think there's a spectrum of illegality, Charlotte. It either is or it isn't.”

“Then it isn't. There's no crime scene tape around the house, no notice on the front door saying you can't go in. Besides, how much trouble could we really get into?”

“What do you mean,
we
?”

“That's why I asked what you were doing. I need you here to help.”

“Charlotte!”

“I know what you're thinking … fingerprints. How can we not leave fingerprints? I'm already ahead on that one. I brought a box of Mary Ruth's food serving gloves for us to wear.”