Seed No Evil (15 page)

“Good morning,” she said in a brisk but not unpleasant manner. “I brought you coffee, and for that, you should be greatly impressed. Dayton Blaine doesn't bring people coffee. People bring Dayton Blaine coffee.”

“Then consider me impressed. Thank you, Ms. Blaine. That was very thoughtful.”

“It's Miss Blaine, not
Miz
Blaine. I want to swat flies when I hear
Miz
. Don't just stand there looking sheepish. Have a seat and tell me how you like the coffee.”

I sat down opposite her and reached for the cup, but before I could get it to my lips, she said, “I hope you like it black. Better for you than fattening cream.”

Black coffee.
Yuck.
I lifted the cup to my mouth and braced myself so I wouldn't wince at the sharp bite of the brew. Then I took a sip—and found it smooth and sweet.

“To your liking?” she asked. “You struck me as a cream and sugar kind of girl.”

“Thanks. It's perfect, but I thought you said it was black.”

She wagged her finger at me. “You weren't paying attention. My statement was, I hope you like your coffee black. I did not say it
was
black. Important difference. Now, let's see how you do with this so-called interview.” She tapped the face of her watch. “Ten minutes starting now.”

I quickly set the coffee aside and placed the note card on the table in front of me. “Okay, first question.”

“I'm fine. Thanks for asking.”

I blinked at her for a moment. Had I erred? “I'm sorry. I guess I should have—”

“Never mind. Apparently, my well-being isn't important. Go on.”

Wonderful. Dayton had rattled me right out of the gate. I drew in a steadying breath. “Okay, number one. Did you see or talk to Bev on Monday?”

“No. Next question.”

I tried to steady my nerves by focusing on the note card. “Did Bev have any enemies that you knew of?”

“
That you knew of
is implied. You wasted time by adding it to your question. Did Bev have enemies, you should have asked. Lots. No one liked her. Next.”

I wanted to yell,
Slow down!
But instead I took a quick breath and moved on. “Do any of her enemies stand out as likely to have harmed her?”

“Awkward sentence. Reword it, please.”

I thought fast and blurted, “Should we be looking at any of her enemies as potential murderers?”

“Better, not great, but I'll answer it. Physically, I wouldn't think so. Politically, I would have hoped so. She was a terrible councilwoman. Next.”

Dayton's answers were so rapid, my brain was racing to keep up. “What was your relationship with her like?”

“She was a bitch. I dealt with her as little as possible. Don't waste any more time on that one. Next.”

My stomach was starting to knot. How I wished I had a tape recorder. “How did you know about Emma taking money from PAR?”

“I made it my business to know everything that went on at the PAR office.”

“But who told you?”

“Bev. Next.”

“When?”

That made her pause a moment. “On, let's see. The Friday before she died? It wasn't Monday, of that I'm one hundred percent certain. Yes. It was Friday. Next.”

“What did Bev tell you about Emma?”

“She called to tell me she was going to fire Emma and wanted the board's blessing. I told her she had to talk to the girl first, document it, and give her a chance to respond before she could fire her. SOP.”

“Standard operating procedure?”

Dayton tapped her watch. “You're wasting time on the obvious.”

“What was Bev's relationship with her sister, Stacy, like?”

“At the PAR meetings they were cordial, but it was as clear as the noses on their faces that they didn't like each other. Do I know why? No. Didn't care. Move on.”

She was running through my questions so quickly, I was certain we'd finish before the ten minutes were up. “How often do you visit the shelter?”

“About twice a month, more if I hear of a problem. Bev was handling it, though, so I had no reason to interfere.”

“Why do you have a key to the shelter?”

She had just lifted her cup to her mouth, but then paused to ask curiously, “
Do
I have a key?”

“I was told you do.”

“Huh.”

“Have you ever used it?”

Dayton took a swallow of coffee. “If I didn't know I had one, the answer is self-evident.”

She was quickly eroding my confidence. I wished I had time to edit my questions so she wouldn't pick them apart. “When was the last time you were at the shelter?”

“Check with my secretary. I don't keep unnecessary details in my head.” She glanced at her watch. “Clock's running.”

Yikes. Maybe I wasn't going to finish after all.
Instead of reading the next question on the note card, I inserted one of my own. “Are you in favor of changing the shelter's no-kill policy?”

Dayton opened her mouth to answer, then clamped it shut.

Finally, I'd slowed her down.

D
ayton took a slow, noisy sip of coffee, gazing at me over the top of her cup with a lifted eyebrow, as though she suspected a trap. “What does my opinion on the no-kill policy have to do with Bev Powers's death?”

The thread was tenuous, but I forged ahead. “My understanding is that you and the board of directors, and Stacy Shaw, want to change the policy so animals can be euthanized, but Bev was the lone holdout against it.”

“Is this your convoluted way of insinuating that everyone who wanted the policy changed is a suspect?”

“A kill shelter isn't humane, Miss Blaine. We shouldn't be playing God with animals' lives. PAR needs to raise more money to take care of the animals and work harder to adopt out those that might be labeled unadoptable.”

“Platitudes, Miss Knight. You're spewing platitudes and have ventured off topic. But since you brought it up, let me ask you this. If an animal is brought in who is in terrible pain from being run over by a car, with no hope for recovery, what should be done? Should that animal be made to suffer even longer until it dies?”

“Well, no. But I'm talking about a shelter that euthanizes animals simply because they're unwanted.”

“You have no idea what the operating costs of an animal shelter are, do you? Of course not. Don't think me heartless. I have four cats, all adopted from the shelter. One is near the end of her life, and if she should become in excruciating pain, you'd better believe I'd want to see her put down rather than suffer needlessly.”

“Why not give her pain medication and let her end her life naturally?”

“Dope her up, do you mean? Sure, I could do that, if you want to call that natural, but is that humane? Who knows? Maybe that's the route I'll take. I won't know until I have to make that call. But that's beside the point. The shelter is operating under severely limited funds and a critical lack of space. Do we turn away young, healthy animals in desperate need of homes so we can nurse the old, the unadoptable, and the suffering indefinitely?”

“Some shelters do it. How do they manage?”

“They have more money than we do.”

“More money than Blaine Manufacturing?”

“Blaine Manufacturing isn't in the business of running an animal shelter.”

“Then why doesn't PAR have more fund-raisers? I can't even remember the last time there was one.”

Good. I'd slowed her down again.

Dayton picked up her coffee and took a swallow, then another. Then she set her cup on the table and folded her arms. “Enough of this back-and-forth dickering. We could keep at it all day. I'm going to level with you now, so pay attention. I did
not
want to change the shelter's policy. Got that? I was
not
in favor of it. I had to go along with Bev because she convinced me it wasn't feasible to continue the way we were.”

“
Bev
convinced you? I was told that Bev was the only one who
didn't
want to change it.”

“Yes, yes,” Dayton said brusquely, “you've already stated that. I'm telling you now that Bev was working behind the scenes to get it changed but didn't want anyone to find out. Bev was the consummate politician. She knew the voting populace wouldn't like it, so she convinced her sister and me to come out in favor of it and let us do her dirty work for her.”

Then Stacy had lied to us. Another mark against Bev's sister.

“How did Bev convince you?” I asked.

“That's not important.”

“It
is
important. It goes to your credibility.”

“My
credibility
?” Her nostrils flared in indignation as she glared at me. “Young lady, do you understand to whom you're talking?”

Uh-oh.
Now I'd done it. I had to get this right or the interview would be over. “A very influential and powerful businesswoman.”

“You're damn right I am. I've helped make New Chapel the thriving town it is. I've turned struggling businesses like yours into successes
based
on my credibility. But if you think I'm not a credible
source,
you
shouldn't be here talking to me, and I most certainly should not be talking to
you.
”

I was on the verge of apologizing when Stacy Shaw's warning jumped into my head:
Don't let Dayton Blaine's money and influence in this town deter you from asking tough questions.

With my heart in my throat, I said, “You're avoiding the question.”

“And your ten minutes are up.” She rose from the table and picked up her cup. Striding away, she called over her shoulder, “Not so spunky today, are you?”

Dayton Blaine wasn't going to get away from me that easily. I jumped up and hurried after her. “What about your whole speech on the humane aspects of euthanizing? Were you just lying to me?”

“Oh, my Lord, now the upstart is calling me a liar!” she cried out. “For your information, Miss Knight, I was on the debate team in college. I can argue an issue with the best of them. Kind of a sport to me, in fact, and quite useful in my line of work.”

“If Bev was holding something over your head to force you to back her idea—”

Dayton came to a complete stop and waited for me to catch up to her. “Did I
say
Bev was holding something over my head?”

“You implied she was.”

“You're impertinent.” She started off again at a fast stride. “Convinced doesn't mean blackmailed.”

“So are you saying Bev
convinced
you that changing the policy was just a matter of economics?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“But it
is
cheaper to run a kill shelter, isn't it?”

“That was Bev's argument. As you said, other shelters manage.”

“Here's what I don't understand,” I said, nearly panting in my efforts to stay abreast. “You won't tell me how Bev convinced you to go along with her plan, so why tell me anything at all? Aren't you worried Marco and I will dig around to see what she was using to
convince
you?”

Dayton laughed loudly. “Don't waste your time investigating me, Miss Knight. You won't find anything. But please do understand that I absolutely abhor—got that?—
abhor
having to acknowledge that a person of Bev's competency got the better of me. Dayton Blaine never admits to mistakes. I told you about this
only
because it might somehow be useful in tracking down the real killer. And by the way, you forgot to ask where I was between five and seven o'clock Monday night, so here's your answer. I don't remember. Check with my secretary. She knows every move I make.”

“Will she talk to me?”

“Her name is Joan and I'll make sure you have full access to her. I'll call her on my way to the meeting.” Dayton came to a stop beside her car. “Cross me off your suspect list, Miss Knight. I didn't do it. And forget what I said about your lack of spunk. You've got loads. You can also tell your private investigator boyfriend that you didn't do too badly for a rookie.”

“Thank you, Miss Blaine. If you have just another minute, can I tell you about this little dog named Seedy whose life is in jeopardy because she's considered unadoptable?”

“Please. I've heard all the sob stories I care to. You want something to cry about? What about dogs that spend their entire lives in cramped wire cages?”

“That's why the shelter has to make an effort to find homes for them.”

“To do that, they'd need more staff, so again, we're talking money issues. Remember this, Miss Knight. It's always about money.”

She got into her car and slammed the door. I stepped to one side as she backed out with a roar of the powerful engine and took off, her cell phone plastered against the side of her face.

•   •   •

“I'm still shaking, Marco.”

“But you did it, Fireball. You got your interview.”

“It's not very long, but I feel good about what I learned. I didn't have any luck changing her mind on the issue of euthanasia though.”

“You worked that into the interview?”

“I snuck it in at the end. A lot of good it did me.”

“Where are you now?”

“I'm still in the parking lot at Blaine Manufacturing.”

“Want to give me a rundown?”

“Sure.” I took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm my jumpy nerves. “First of all, Dayton can't remember where she was at the time of the murder, so she gave me full access to her secretary. She also told me something shocking. Bev was the one who was pushing for a policy change at the shelter, not Dayton or Stacy Shaw. Dayton said Bev convinced her and Stacy to go along with it, but when I asked how Bev convinced her, she wouldn't tell me. She said to stop wasting time on her and go after the real killer.”

“Very common for a suspect to say, Abby.”

“I know, but if her secretary can prove where Dayton was, I feel comfortable in crossing her off our list, Marco. I got really good vibes from Dayton. And if what she said about Bev is true, then Stacy lied to us when she said she was in favor of the policy change and Bev wasn't. If she lied about that, who knows what else she lied about?”

“Sounds like another visit with Stacy is in order.”

“And Emma. Dayton said she learned about Emma taking PAR funds from Bev. Apparently Bev called Dayton on Friday and said she wanted to fire Emma, but Dayton advised her to give Emma a chance to defend herself first. She said it was SOP.”

“I'll give the PAR fiscal director a call right now and check it out. If funds were moved, he had to know.”

“Before I head back to Bloomers, I'm going to take Dayton up on her offer and stop in to see her secretary.”

“Okay, babe. Let's reconnoiter at noon.”

“One more thing. I was so flustered about everything yesterday evening that I forgot to tell you I saw Reilly, and he said the tox results came back negative for drugs and alcohol and the final autopsy results would be in later today.”

“Where did you see Reilly?”

I was afraid he'd ask that. “On Concord Avenue.”

“On Concord Avenue,” Marco repeated, as though trying to understand. “Did he flag you down to talk to you?”

“You could say that.”

“Abby, did you get pulled over?”

“Yes, but I just got a warning, and I'm being very careful now with the speed limit, so no lecture, please.”

“Why would I lecture you?”

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say because Marco sounded peeved.

“Did Rafe say something about me lecturing him?” Marco asked.

Yikes. Didn't want to be in the middle of that. “I'm getting out of the car now and walking toward Blaine's main door.”

“Abby.”

“My phone's going to cut off. See you at lunchtime. Bye.”

•   •   •

Ten minutes later, I left Blaine Manufacturing fully satisfied that Dayton Blaine should not be a suspect. Along with times and places, Joan had given me the names and phone numbers of the people with whom Dayton had met right up to the minute she appeared at the PAR meeting. She apparently hadn't even taken a break to eat dinner.

When I got back to Bloomers, Grace and Francesca had a parlor full of customers, and Lottie was behind the cash register taking payments for prewrapped packages of scones. Before jumping in to help, I slipped into the workroom to check the spindle, but there were only three slips of paper on it.

So much for the orders rolling in.

At noon, I met Marco in the Central Park Plaza one block west of the courthouse, where we sat on a bench to eat turkey and Swiss cheese sandwiches.

“It's still early,” he said, after I'd complained about the lack of orders.

“The day is half over,” I said.

“You're looking at the glass as half empty, Sunshine. You can't expect things to happen right away. The flyers just went out yesterday evening. Take a breather from worrying.”

Easy for him to say.

“How did my mom do?” Marco asked. “Did she bug you about the wedding?”

“No, we were too busy.”

“That's good news.”

“She was still helping when I left. The parlor is doing great business because of Grace's scones, but unfortunately that's not where the money is.”

Marco said nothing. His attention was on something across the park, so I followed the direction of his gaze. Was that Rafe walking along West Lincoln? With a girl?

Whomever or whatever Marco was watching, he didn't look happy about it, so I changed the subject. “Dayton Blaine's secretary gave me a list of the people Dayton met with Monday afternoon up until seven p.m., along with phone numbers. I'll bring them down after work tonight—which reminds me. Are we meeting for dinner?”

“I'll contact the people on the list tomorrow instead of at dinner.”