Pickled (An Alex Harris Mystery) (27 page)

I shrugged. “I’m not sure how it all connects, or even if it does, but Sophie’s got a lot to figure out when she gets home from visiting her friend.”

“That’s a lot of strudel for one person,” Mr. Kaufman said from behind the counter.

I gave him a big smile. “I’m taking it to the pickleball tournament. I’m going to watch the calendar boys.”

Astrid gave me a wink and then looked up at the clock on the back wall. “We’ll be there too. Carl, call Mario in from the back. He’ll have to work the counter this morning.”

I paid for my strudels and then drove over to Meme’s.

“I think you better drive Francis’ car. It’s bigger and has four doors.”

My little two-door Honda wasn’t the most conducive car for seniors to get in and out of and as there would be four of us, I thought taking Francis’ SUV would be the best choice.

I got Meme situated in the back with Theresa and Francis and I got into the front. It was an older model SUV and not as large as some of the ones I see on the road, but it was nice and comfortable. I needed to think about upgrading my own car, but it suited me fine and so far it was hanging in there.

“So John went for it, huh?” Meme asked.

I looked in the review mirror. “Not at first, but he finally agreed to do a stake-out.”

“Then why don’t you look happy?” my grandmother asked.

“Because I’ve been told in no uncertain terms to stay home. Leave it to the police and all that.”

“You didn’t think he’d put you in any danger, did you, Alex?” Theresa asked. “He loves you very much.”

“Yeah, whatever. It was my idea.”

“You just come over to my house, honey, and we’ll wait to see if your little plan worked.”

I smiled at my grandmother in the mirror, but I was still fuming at not being allowed to participate in the sting.

“So what’s the plan for this morning?” Francis asked. “You know, we’re doing all the actual work. If we do it right the police will reap the rewards of our hard efforts.”

I cut my eyes at Francis. “Nice try. The take-down is where all the action is and of course the cops will get all the credit. But it is what it is and we do have a part to play so here’s what I thought. Just kind of act casual when you’re talking to the picklers and say something like, ‘so, did you hear about all the art they found at the Bryson home? Poor Sophie. Now she’s got to figure out what to do, and she’s so busy going to visit friends and trying to get the alarm fixed, she sure has her hands full and she’s still mourning Humphrey.’ Something like that.”

Meme cackled from the back seat. “They’ll never believe she’s still mourning Humphrey. Better leave that part out, but we’ll make sure everyone knows all about the paintings and that she’s gone.”

“And don’t forget the part about the alarm. You have to work that in. The killer has to know there’s no alarm.”

“But if the killer is the one who already broke in and took a few things, wouldn’t he know there’s no alarm?” Theresa said.

“Good point. But evidently everyone knew Sophie and Humphrey never used their alarm. The killer may think since the robbery, that’s changed. We need to be sure they know it’s still the status quo—no alarm. They’d be expecting one now after the burglary, so that’s why we need to emphasis that it’s broke.”

I got nods from everyone and pulled into the parking lot of the Indian Cove Community Center.

“Looks like everybody’s here,” Meme said. “Let’s go catch us a killer.”

It did seem like everyone from Indian Cove and the surrounding towns was there. I saw a bunch of players I had never seen before and Meme said they were from the Bridgeport club. I guess I should have picked up several more strudels, but we would have to make do with the three I brought.

We got settled off to the side where someone had set up a bunch of chairs. Against the wall was a long table with an urn of coffee and one with hot water for tea. I placed the pastries on the table and opened the lids. That done, I grabbed two coffees for Meme and Theresa and then went back for tea for Francis and me.

There were four pickleball courts set up and the action started up immediately. On the court closest to us were a group of men I had never seen before.

“The winner of this group will go on to play the winners of the game where Howard and Fred are playing right now.”

I looked over to where Meme pointed and sure enough Howard and Fred were battling it out with Sid Dupre and Peter Gaffney. I could see what Sophie saw in Peter. He was a nice looking man, successful and had a refinement that fit perfectly with Sophie’s personality. She deserved to be happy and I just hoped neither she nor Peter had anything to do with Humphrey’s death.

On the other side of Meme, Theresa let out a hoot. “Did you see that? Fred’s got a great dink shot. That one went right to the center and they weren’t expecting it.”

I had no idea what she meant by any of that. I turned my attention back to the players and looked to see exactly who was here. Sid was playing, and I saw Marie off to the side watching him. They had obviously weathered their problems and presented a united team. Had they also joined forces to kill Humphrey? Then I saw the Holts. Phyllis did some stretches and her wild hair fell across her face. Did she join up with her daughter to get rid of Humphrey or did Lester avenge his wife? The Kaufmans were talking with another couple I didn’t recognize. They had perfect access to the food and could have spiked Humphrey’s dinner, plus they brought the pickles. Did someone really plan a murder via pickle? And then there were the calendar boys, who were in full force today. The thought of one of them spending the rest of his days in prison was just too horrible to think about. Leaning against the wall by the coffee table I saw Tony Moretti and his wife. I wondered how he was getting on now that he and Marie were no longer an item. If he had killed Humphrey to keep him quiet so he could continue his affair with Marie, things hadn’t turned out quite the way he expected.

“So what do you think?” Meme asked me. “Is the killer here?”

“Probably. The only people on my list who aren’t here are Mr. Hildebrand and Suzanne, and Terry Roder, the sleazy PI.” I made a mental note to contact them by phone to let them know about the paintings.

The matches ended and everyone took a break before starting the next round. It was time to mingle and put our plan into action. I left Meme and walked over to the table for some more hot water and a slice of cherry strudel. Out of all the flavors Astrid made, I think I liked the cherry and peach the best.

“Carl just told me that you and Sophie found a secret room in the house. Is that true?” Marie asked. Today she had on a fuchsia nylon top and black pants. The color set off her gorgeous hair and skin. I had a feeling poor Sid had always had his hands full with this one. She definitely liked to flirt and with her looks, her advances were probably always reciprocated.

“Yes, it is true. There it was, right behind a hidden panel in Humphrey’s study. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“And now it all belongs to Sophie?”

I swallowed a bite of strudel. “That I don’t know. I’m not sure how it’s ever going to be sorted out. If you’ve read the news lately about all that stolen art they found in Germany, well, if the German’s can’t even work it out, I don’t know how Sophie’s going to be able to. But I’ll tell you one thing, until she does, as soon as she gets back she had better get a better alarm system and get everything insured.”

I watched Marie walk away and a moment later she inserted herself into a group of seven people and started talking. I smiled. All I needed to do now was sit back and let Marie do the rest.

For the next several hours I alternated between watching the matches and telling my tale. Meme and Theresa and Francis had done their fair share of spreading the word and if I didn’t watch out, there was going to be a crowd sneaking into Sophie’s tonight. But somehow I didn’t think so. It was a great story and probably would provide fodder for several games to come, but I had a feeling only the killer would show up. And then one of the players on the court to the left of me took off their sweatshirt to reveal a t-shirt underneath. They raised their left arm to hit the ball and I saw something, and things fell into place.

I took Meme and the gang home, and while we waited for the homemade chicken and fennel soup to heat up I called the gallery and told Mr. Hildebrand there was a lot more art than what I had showed him, and that as soon as Mrs. Bryson got back from a trip she might need his help sorting through everything. The truth was I didn’t think the man was a killer. I felt certain I had figured that out. I really just wanted to throw some business his way. Sophie certainly would need help, or at least an advocate in her corner, and who better that Alastair Hildebrand and Suzanne Holt.

I made a quick call to Terry Roder and ended up leaving a message on his machine. I set the kitchen table and Meme served the soup with a large loaf of crusty bread and lots of butter.

“I think it went well,” Francis said. “What time do you think it’ll go down?”

We sounded like a bunch of cops on one of those police shows.

“John said probably late, when it was nice and quiet and everyone around was asleep, but he’ll probably have his men in place soon.”

We ate our soup in silence and I debated whether or not to share what I had seen? And if I was wrong? Maybe the person didn’t want that aspect of their life shared with the rest of the group. No, I would keep it to myself until I heard from my husband.

“You’re awfully quiet, honey,” Meme said.

“Just thinking.”

A worried look clouded my grandmother’s face. “You think it’s one of the calendar boys, don’t you, and you don’t want us to know. Tell me it’s not Fred.” Meme loved her friends, but she, along with the rest of us, had a soft spot for generic Viagra Fred.

I placed a hand over Meme’s chubby one. “I’m fairly certain it’s not one of them.”

“You know something. I can see it on your face.”

I shook my head. “No, I
think
something, I’m not sure of anything. Let’s just wait.”

There was no sense in going back to work. I had already let Millie and Sam know I wouldn’t be in today. No way could I get any work done, knowing what I now felt I knew and waiting for the whole thing to come to a head. So we did what we always did in situations like this—we played cards and drank tea. I even had a bag of M&M’s in my car that I brought in and poured into a bowl.

About three-forty my sister showed up with Kendall and Henry. Both kids ran straight for Meme and wrapped their little arms around her ample waist. Meme liked nothing better than when Sam brought the kids over.

Henry started to reach for the bowl of candy and then saw the stern look on his mother’s face. “May I have some, Mom?”

“Okay. But just a few. We’re having your favorite for dinner—chicken cutlets and noodles with carrots and a salad.”

Henry’s interpretation of a few clearly differed with my sister’s.

“Give some of those to your sister. I don’t want you eating all of them. You’re hyper enough as it is.”

Henry moved around the table giving everyone a hug and a kiss until he got to me. I wrapped my arms around him, while Kendall came up to my other side and kissed me on the cheek. My sister really lucked out with these two.

“Auntie, you have two aces. Is that good?”

It was Meme’s turn to discard. “Thanks, kiddo. I think I’ll keep this little ace I have here to myself.”

“Henry, you’re not supposed to tell anyone what I have,” I lightly pinched his little arm and he started to giggle.

“But you have all those pretty cards with the faces on them.”

I looked at my sister and rolled my eyes. “Shall I tickle him or do you want the pleasure?” I held my nephew close while I tickled any bit I could grab.

“What’s that noise?” Henry asked a couple seconds later.

“It’s my phone. Sam, hand me my purse.” She passed it over and I pulled out the tiny cell. “John, is that you? I can hardly hear you. What? Hostages? Oh my God.” I listened for another minute. “Be careful. I love you.” I closed the phone and looked around the table. “There’s a hostage situation in Lodendale. A father’s got his wife and three kids in the house and he’s threatening to kill them all.” This last bit came out without thinking. I looked at the kids. They were watching me with huge eyes. “It’s okay, guys. Uncle John’s got it all under control.”

“Hey, why don’t you two go into the living room and see what kind of good stuff Meme’s got on cable.”

“You don’t want us watching cable cuz of all the phonographic stuff?”

“Pornographic.” Sam gave Henry her
look
. “Go.”

I waited until I heard the TV go on and then continued. “Looks like the sting is off for tonight, but he said it was no big deal, he knew who the killer was and would pick them up later.”

“So who is it?” Sam asked.

I shrugged “He didn’t say. As a matter of fact I had no idea he was even close to knowing. Damn police and all their resources.”

“So what now?” Theresa asked.

I leaned forward on the table, grabbed a couple of candies and smiled. “Now we switch to Plan B.”

Of course, truth be told, Plan B was what I wanted all along. I pulled Shirley’s card out of my purse and called her. After a couple of minutes I hung up and looked at the anxious faces. “Perfect. She’ll meet me here and then we’ll drive over to the Bryson home. There’s a place to park a few blocks away and we can hike in along the beach.”

“We’re coming with you,” Meme said.

I shook my head quickly. “No. There’s not enough room in the secret closet for all of us and besides, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t want you getting hurt,” Sam said. “And what about your RA? You’re not physically fit to make an escape.”

“Stop, I’m fine. See?” I wiggled my fingers and stretched my arms above my head. “All limber and in good working order. And besides, Shirley has a gun.”