The Alpine Decoy (32 page)

Or, at least, the wrong person who had killed Kelvin Greene and Wesley Charles.
I
could only console myself that
I
’d been partly right: Shane Campbell had indeed bludgeoned Jerome Cole with Marilynn Lewis’s ivory figurine. His motive had been gallant; perhaps he’d acted in self-defense. But what had followed was completely without honor and utterly indefensible.

Carla was still shattered by her roommate’s treachery. “She seemed so nice!” Carla wailed. “She was always fussing over me and she never argued about expenses and she even vacuumed!”

Peyton Flake moved away from the filing cabinet to rub Carla’s shoulders. “Hey, babe, get over it. The big thing is that you’re safe. Now you know why
I
called and asked you to come down to the hospital and help me file charts.”

Leaning back in the modular plastic chair, Carla gave Flake a big-eyed, adoring gaze. “I just thought you wanted to be near me!” She giggled, though on a less jarring note
than usual. Turning away from Flake, she looked at me. “But I still don’t get why you thought I was in danger.”

Sadly, I shook my head. “I thought both you and Libby were in danger. And I didn’t want you around when I confronted Libby about Shane. I knew she wouldn’t discuss their relationship in front of a third person, even her roommate. I was panicky. There’d been too many murders, and it seemed to me that anybody connected to the Campbells could be next.”

Milo wore his musing expression. “And Shane
was
next. Or was that because you put a scare into Libby?” His hazel eyes were watery as he waited for my reply.

I gave a halfhearted nod. “When Libby found out I knew Shane had killed Jerome Cole, she panicked, too. She figured it was just a matter of time before somebody filled in the rest of the gaps and pinned the other two murders on her. Shane had to go—preferably as a suicide. He said she was trying to force him to jump off the bridge. She didn’t want to shoot him, just threaten him. The gun went off by accident, while they were struggling.”

“Gosh.” Carla’s voice was faint. “How pathetic. Libby wanted to marry Shane so much. He was her first real chance at security. Oh, she didn’t talk about it often, but sometimes she’d let things slip. Like, having her own house and a family and belonging to somebody. I could cry, really, I could.”

I didn’t blame Carla. I felt sort of weepy, too. Libby Boyd was a tragic figure, an unloved child who had been utterly ruthless in her search for safe harbor. Instead, she had wrecked several lives, including her own.

But while I felt terrible pangs for Libby, I still had a need to exonerate myself. “So much pointed to Shane,” I persisted. “Not just with Jerome Cole’s death, but the other two, as well. The night that Jerome died, Marilynn and Winola went to Shane’s apartment. He wasn’t there. I suspect he’d gone to Marilynn’s and they’d crossed paths, but missed each other. He found Jerome, still ranting and raving. Shane, feeling obliged to defend Marilynn, got into a fight with Jerome and hit him with that carving. Shane doesn’t have much backbone—Libby told me that, and I believe her. He fled, and let Wesley Charles take the blame.
Wesley came along later and picked up the murder weapon. Somewhere in there, Kelvin Greene showed up, probably to see Winola Prince. Kelvin recognized Shane from working together at Fred Meyer. He saw Shane leave, and put two and two together. That’s when he decided to make things interesting and blackmail Shane. When Shane feels better tomorrow, I imagine he’ll tell us he confided everything to Libby. She knew that Shane was falling for Marilynn—she didn’t want to lose him. Libby probably told him to go ahead and let Wesley Charles take the rap and to pay Kelvin off. But Kelvin kept coming back for more. Shane got the idea to sell those banned recordings. He must have used the money he made to pay off Kelvin. But he wanted to be done with blackmail so he quit his job and came back to Alpine. He could live more cheaply at home, and he needed all the money he could get. But it wasn’t that easy to shed Kelvin. He came up here to meet Shane and make even bigger demands.”

Milo was trying to look enthused about my deductions. He was also trying to keep awake. “So Libby decided to call a halt,” he murmured.

“Right,” I answered, also feeling weary. “To Libby, security was financial as well as social and emotional. She couldn’t stand seeing Shane drained of everything. I don’t know exactly what Kelvin did when he got to Alpine that Friday, but he probably asked a few questions and found out that Shane worked for his father at Alpine Appliance. Maybe he figured it wouldn’t be smart to head straight there. Lloyd Campbell might make trouble. But he knew Cyndi and tracked her down at the PUD. She probably told Kelvin to telephone Shane and arrange a meeting.”

Peyton Flake was still standing behind Carla’s chair, his manner protective. “Did Cyndi know what was going on?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. She probably thought it had something to do with Marilynn. Cyndi was just the intermediary. She had no idea….”

Milo’s phone rang, startling all of us. Even from across the desk, I could hear Vida’s voice shrilling in the receiver. Milo listened wordlessly, then said, “Oh, hell, why not. It’s on the way home.”

We gazed at him in curiosity. “Vida got your note,
Emma,” Milo said, heaving himself to his feet. “She’s put the teakettle on. Let’s go.”

Vida doesn’t believe in answering machines. She also doesn’t believe in being kept in the dark. Consequently, I had insisted that after leaving the hospital, we should swing by Vida’s house and put a note on her door in case she came home from Bellingham before morning.

Carla and Peyton Flake declined Vida’s invitation, however. “I’ll take Carla home,” Flake told us in the sheriff’s reception area. He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Seems to me she can use a new roommate, at least temporarily.” They started out the door. “But I don’t vacuum, babe. I won’t even dust.”

“Oh, Peyts,” said Carla. And she giggled.

By one
A.M
., Vida was almost filled in. Refreshing our teacups, she nodded sagely. “Yes, yes, the psychology was there all along. I can’t believe I missed it. Especially the part about the wristwatch. I ran into Libby at the mall the day after the murder and never noticed her bare arm. My eyes must be going.”

“I missed that, too,” I admitted. “What really misled me was Ed and the Alpine Appliance van. He had mentioned following it up First Hill Road that Friday, thinking it was Lloyd Campbell and that he could apologize for screwing up the co-op ad. When he got there, Ed said Lloyd was gone. But it wasn’t Lloyd—it was Shane, delivering the Tolbergs’ stove. I forgot all about that until this morning—yesterday morning—after Mass when Ed was doing his eager-beaver bit with the Catholic merchants. I remembered that the Tolbergs’ new gas range was what made Shane late getting home that Friday. The Tolberg farm is right across from the high school. It’s secluded up there, with the Dithers Sisters’ horse ranch across the road. Maybe he met Libby to rendezvous over the meeting with Kelvin. Whatever, he left the van, not wanting it seen parked by the cemetery where he was going to meet Kelvin. It was still there the next morning. Betsy O’Toole saw it on her way to the Grocery Basket. She thought the Campbells had taken to working on Saturdays, but I knew better. By chance, Lloyd and I had talked about a six-day week
earlier. Naturally, when Betsy mentioned seeing the van, I suspected the worst of Shane.”

“Bucker Swede,” Milo said doggedly. “That was a forest ranger’s hat. Why did you think it had been put in Shane’s van?”

I suspect my expression was as foolish as I felt. “I’d never seen Libby wear an official hat with her uniform. I figured she’d lost it in Shane’s van while they surrendered to a fit of passion. The Alpine Appliance van had been parked by the high school, too—it just wasn’t in the same place as Libby’s truck. The pranksters could have put Bucker there just as easily. As I said, once I got on the right track, I kept going. I never noticed the detour sign that pointed to Libby Boyd. I think that must be what they call linear thinking.”

Vida passed Milo a tiny English bone-china pitcher of cream, which he sloshed into his cup. Tea was not Milo’s beverage of choice. “Now, Emma,” Vida said sternly, “don’t punish yourself. It’s very late, and I’ve had a long drive, almost from the Canadian border. Did Shane meet Kelvin at the cemetery or not?”

Feeling rebuked, I nodded quickly. “Yes, I’m sure he did. I suspect Kelvin pulled his gun. Shane was—is—a bit of a coward. He wouldn’t have fought Kelvin for it. Only a strong emotion like self-defense could goad Shane into violence. He struggled with Kelvin to protect himself. And tonight, with Libby, because she wanted him to die.”

“Such irony.” Vida looked disapproving. “First, Libby risks everything to keep Shane, then she tries to kill him. The primary instinct is always survival. My, my.”

Milo drooped in Vida’s maplewood kitchen chair. “No guts, no glory,” he murmured.

I didn’t agree. “Oh, Libby had guts. Having been alerted by Shane, Libby showed up, pulled her own gun—which Milo thinks is the same one that killed Wesley Charles—disarmed Kelvin, and shot him with his own weapon, then dumped it in the grave, losing her broken watch in the process. Shane may have run off by then. Remember, he was torn between his fading feelings for Libby and the awakening love for Marilynn. Having killed Jerome Cole, Shane was already in a terrible state of conscience. Given his lack
of spine, flight would have suited his personality. Shane might never have been sure that Libby killed Kelvin.”

Milo nodded in a vague way. “And Libby had parked her truck in front of the high school, across from the Tolberg farm. She didn’t count on the kids who were hanging out around the practice field swiping the Bucker mascot, using her first-aid kit, and putting a tourniquet on the thing. Oh, and her forest ranger’s hat.”

“Ridiculous,” Vida sniffed. “To think they blamed it on Sultan! Is there no end to rivalry on Stevens Pass?”

Milo shot Vida a nettled glance. “Keep to the murders. I’m already confused.” He applied his inhaler, and expelled a deep breath. “So when did Libby find the damned Bucker?”

I made a self-deprecating gesture. “That was part of my problem. I thought it was Shane who had parked his van by the high school, until I remembered that Ed had seen it farther up on First Hill Road. It couldn’t be in two places at once. Libby wouldn’t have been observed by the people who live on First Hill—those houses are too secluded. She left her truck in front of the school, then walked across the street to the cemetery. While she was gone, the kids decided to play a prank. Let’s face it, some Alpiners look at the Forest Service as a tool of the federal government. They don’t like their stand on the spotted owl. The kids were getting back at the enemy. They put the dummy in the back of the truck, which was full of brush and tools and all sorts of stuff. I suspect Libby didn’t even notice—until she hid Wesley Charles in there.”

Vida pursed her lips. “It was very stupid of us not to think about that Forest Service truck being involved in the accident at Monroe.” She gave Milo a reproachful look. “Working for the government, Libby must have had no trouble finding out when Wesley Charles would be transported from Shelton. Somehow she caused that tie-up, then liberated Wesley Charles while everyone’s attention was focused on the school bus. Where did she take him?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? Probably a back road where she happened upon the stolen car. She had tools in the truck, including a saw. She cut through Wesley’s shackles and let him drive up to Alpine on his own. Maybe she fed
him some story about knowing that he was wrongly imprisoned and that she knew who really killed Jerome Cole. Wesley Charles sounds like a credulous soul, and he certainly didn’t want to serve time for something he didn’t do. I’ll bet she had a map, directing him to the cul-de-sac. She met him there later in the day and shot him, then waited until he was discovered by those kids. It wasn’t any coincidence that she was in the vicinity when they found the body. No doubt she was lurking in the woods, just biding her time.”

“And getting rid of Bucker Swede.” Vida sighed. “She went way too far. She didn’t need to kill either of those poor men. Such a waste.”

Milo was yawning widely. “I don’t get the part about that watch. Where does that come in?”

My voice was growing tired; I was getting tired of hearing it. “After the murder I noticed that Libby had a tan line on her arm. Then Vida and I found the broken wristwatch in the grave. I also realized that the next time I saw Libby, she was wearing a watch. A new one, or a spare, I suppose. But I didn’t put the whole picture together until later.”

Vida gave a shake of her head that set the graying curls dancing. “Libby planned things so carefully. She would have been very good at organizing Presbyterian bazaars. It’s such a shame she was homicidal.”

Milo grunted. “She was hell-bent on saving Shane’s reputation—along with his money and her future. People like that are out of kilter. They don’t think the way we do.”

Vida concurred. “Terrible. Just terrible. Shane would never have gone to prison. He still won’t.”

Milo didn’t look so sure. “He withheld evidence. He impeded justice. I don’t think Shane will get off scot-free.”

I slapped my hand on Vida’s kitchen table. “There you go! More ethnic clichés! Stop it, Dodge! Hasn’t this whole sorry mess taught you anything?”

Clumsily, Milo got to his feet. “Yeah, it sure has. I’ve got to break up with Honoria. At least until she changes perfumes. I’m allergic to that stuff she wears. My sinuses cleared up when we didn’t see each other. Come on, Emma, I’ll take you home to my place.”

Half out of my chair, I froze.
“Your
place? What are you talking about?”

Milo gave me an innocent look. “Huh? Your car. You left the Jag at my place. Don’t you want to collect it tonight?”

“Oh!” I flushed. “Sure, let’s go.”

Behind us, Vida snickered.

Monday was frantic at
The Advocate
. I took the tricky murder investigation story upon myself. It was noon before I finished the main article and the sidebars. By then, Libby Boyd’s corpse had been retrieved from Alpine Creek and sent to the morgue. Doc Dewey ruled the death accidental. No one claimed the body until Carla came forward and said she’d see to the burial. I told her I’d help. Vida chimed in, and so did Ed and Ginny. Somehow it didn’t seem right that Libby, who had been abandoned in life, should be alone in death.