Fools of Fortune

by CJ Love

  Delia placed her hand on the counter and leaned her weight against it. “Poisoned, right. The detective wasn’t giving that information away. So… it was methanol again.” She nodded, glancing at her co-workers. “Methanol killed Reg Ashbury and Alfie Clemmons two months ago. It was Mate’s favorite way to kill.”

  “I have no idea what that is,” Becca said, leaning on the table, too, but with her hands resting on the top and her fingers interlaced.

  “It’s a chemical to speed up the beer-crafting process. It’s formaldehyde, basically. Detective Montague wouldn’t name the poison. That’s how he is figuring out who murdered Jeanette. That’s why he didn’t arrest you, Becca. You might have motive and opportunity, but not the means to kill. You have no access to the poison.”

  “How does Mate have access to it?” Bogart wanted to know.

  “Eddie said he saw Mate at Tipsy Louie’s the other day. That’s how Mate got the chemical the first time around. Then he injected it into his victims.”

  “But, the poison was in the blueberries,” Becca said. “That’s what the detective said.”

  Good point.

  “And, does Mate know Jeanette? If it wasn’t a surprise killing, why would Mate kill her?”

  Another good point.

  “I don’t know if he knew her. Jeanette was only at our apartment building to see her sister and cousin … she was at Alfie’s funeral, too, but she and Mate didn’t act as though they knew each other.” She bit her lip, thinking it through. “Of course, he could’ve been faking the not knowing her department. He pretended not to know Chu Hua, too, but she’s his girlfriend. Mate is a good liar.”

  Bogart leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “All of this sounds like a long shot to me.”

  Delia shrugged. “We’re just talking it through. Who are our suspects again?”

  Bogart grabbed the paper. “Becca, Sanya someone or other, Jeanette’s husband, this Mate person, Chu Hua….”

  “Add Daniel Curran to the list because he was here asking about the death. He’s Mate’s brother and that shoots him to the top of the list. With a bullet.”

  “Being his brother doesn’t make Daniel a suspect,” Bogart said.

  “Just because you think he’s cute doesn’t make him innocent,” Becca reminded him.

  Delia waved her hand. “He’s a person of interest, that’s all. And, don’t forget Eddie. Put him down.”

  Becca asked, “Who’s Eddie again?”

  “Sanya and Jeanette’s cousin. Jeanette might have asked him to let her move in.”

  Bogart shook his head. “Why would he kill her, and does he have access to formaldehyde?”

  Delia slumped forward. “I don’t know why Eddie would kill her.” Then she straightened. “But, he does have access to formaldehyde. He’s been to Tipsy Louie’s recently.”

  “Did they get along?” Becca asked.

  “Actually, he was the only one who seemed to care that Jeanette died.”

  “Other than her husband,” Bogart said.

  Becca stood straighter. “But they were divorcing. He might’ve killed her.”

  Delia turned toward the girl. “You knew Sam, didn’t you? Is he a killer?”

  “I don’t know. I only met the guy once. After I’d realized he was that Loring and Jeanette’s husband, I stayed away from them. But he was nice, I suppose. He seemed kind to Jeanette.”

  “Right,” Delia said. “Well, I think we can solve this case. We’ve got a lot of suspects and motives.” She nodded and glanced toward Bogart.

  “Right, right,” he said. “How do we do that?”

  “I believe Mate is the number one suspect. We need to find him.”

  It was Bogart’s time to come around the counter. “Mate, as in a murderer-out-for-revenge Mate?”

  “Yes, but all we need to do is find him and then call Montague, don’t you see?” Delia asked, eyes bright and waiting for a positive response.

  Anybody?

  Bogart nodded his head —only slightly —but then more vigorously. “Let’s do it.”

  Becca gave them a ghost of a smile. Tears had formed at the corners of her eyes.

  “We’ll call ourselves the Murder Club,” Bogart announced.

  Delia shook her head. “We’re not a bowling team.”

  “Where do you think this Mate person is?” Becca asked. She took a deep breath, probably to calm her nerves.

  “I think he’s either with Chu Hua or Daniel Curran.”

  “Daniel across the street?” This from Bogart, his eyes darting toward the window at the Stove and Keg.

  “I don’t think Mate is at the pub. My guess is that he’s at his girlfriend’s out by the lighthouse.”

  “Should we go there now?” Becca asked, her gaze sweeping between them.

  Delia nodded. “We’re done for today. Tomorrow morning we’ll do all the baking.”

  “And we’ll need a new Jeanette,” Bogart added.

  Delia frowned at him. “What?”

  “You need to hire someone to take Jeanette’s place.”

  Oh yeah.

  “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. In the meanwhile, we need to find Mate.” Walking into the back room, she found her purse on a kitchen shelf. But then she stopped. “We can’t take Freddy. Mate knows my car. He’ll recognize it.”

  Becca removed the apron from around her waist. “We can take mine.”

  “I have a sidecar.”

  Both of them gazed at Bogart. “No,” Becca said.

  Delia shook her head. “No way.”

  That was their definite opinion until they reached the parking lot, and Becca’s blue Chevy Sonic wouldn’t start.

  “What’s wrong with your car?” Delia asked Becca.

  “The battery,” she said, popping the hood open. “If I just shove it to the side, sometimes it works.” She reached into the engine compartment and pulled up on the hood prop. She’d left a wrench on the side of the charger, pulled it out, and whacked the cable connectors a couple of times. Then she shoved the piece to the left. “Okay, let’s try it again.” She reached in through the open driver’s side window and turned the key.

  Click, click, click.

  Bogart threw out his hands. “I have a sidecar.”

  “No!”

  “No way,” Delia told him.

  Chapter 9

  “Now, our joy, although our last and least”

  The sidecar fit Delia like Michael Phelps’s swim pants. Becca sat behind Bogart, and neither she nor Delia wore helmets. They wore bug-eyed goggles.

  Keeping to the back streets, it took them forty-five minutes to get to the Barcelona lighthouse in Westfield. Bogart was hauling buttski. He didn’t seem to think they made good time, however, because, at one of the stoplights, he gazed at both of them and said, “I feel like I’m dragging an anchor. Which one of you gained weight over the weekend?”

  The ice cream!

  It was past nine o’clock, and moonbeams glimmered on the lake on the right side of the road. There were trees and more trees, with a house here and there. Soon they’d be able to see the Daniel Reed Pier, but Delia smacked Bogart’s arm and pointed to the side of the road.

  He pulled the bike onto the shoulder —which put the sidecar on the rutted track beside it. Delia removed her goggles and stared at the house kitty-corner to where they’d parked. Straight across from them were grass, fern oak, and pine. Lots of it.

  Pulling her butt out of the sidecar, Delia stood on the shoulder next to Bogart. Becca stood on the other side of him. They all watched the house across the street. It was a single-story ranch-style with a broad front lawn and gravel driveway.

  “What do we do now?” Bogart whispered.

  “We surveil,” Delia said.

  Becca shifted her weight. “How can we surveil? We’re too far away.”

  “You’re right. We should get closer to the house.” This from Delia, who already had her eyes on the overgrown woodland next to the house. Sh
e pointed to the grove of kudzu and pine trees. “We can stay along the tree line and then see into the house.”

  “This feels an awful lot like peeping tommerie to me,” Bogart said, setting his helmet on the handlebars of his bike. “I approve, of course.”

  Delia ignored that. “Okay, we need to be fast and focused. We see Mate and then return to the motorcycle to call the police.”

  They crossed the street quickly because there was no traffic. Stars hung about in the quiet sky, and the moon glowed. Once they reached the guardrail on the other side of the road, Delia went first and stepped over it. She remained parallel to the rail until it came to an end near Chu Hua’s driveway.

  Had it really only been two months ago that she and Mate came out this way after Alfie’s funeral?

  Alfie.

  No one seemed to remember him after everything that had happened. Delia had cared about him, though, even though he’d been unfaithful.

  Well, we weren’t engaged or anything.

  But, still. When a man kisses a girl, doesn’t that mean something? It’d meant something to Delia. It wasn’t as though she’d gone around kissing many guys in her lifetime. When she grew brave enough to return a kiss, usually her heart was involved by then and, well, apparently Alfie’s heart hadn’t been.

  And now funny Alfie is gone.

  She stopped when she reached the driveway. It was another fifty yards to the house. Delia led the way, picking her way along the side yard and the forest-y bits. Bogart was right behind her. He said, “You know, if I didn’t have a hospitality career, I’d be a criminal. This is exhilarating…” he said, but then suddenly, he screamed, “AHH!”

  Delia whipped around and hissed, “What’s the matter?”

  “Something ran across my foot!” He still had his knee to his chest, and he stared at the ground. “Oh God, it was probably a snake.”

  Becca was right behind him, trying hard not to laugh.

  Suddenly, gravel crunched as a car swung into the driveway. The headlights moved across the lawn. Slowing down, the driver pulled toward the house.

  Delia, Becca, and Bogart locked eyes, and then everyone jumped into the woods. Delia had on her puffy pink jacket and heard a rip near her elbow. Someone was on her foot, and she wiggled out from beneath and got to her knees.

  Becca popped up right next to her and started off toward the driveway and the car, same as Delia.

  Bogart still rolled around back there somewhere. At least he wasn’t screaming about it.

  The vehicle that pulled in was a two-toned Mini Cooper and the driver had already shut off the engine.

  “I know that car,” Delia whispered. “I’ve seen it.”

  Becca nodded while she pulled a twig from her hair.

  The driver’s side door opened, and a man pulled himself out. Literally, he had to use both hands on the roof of the car and made a swinging motion to stand up.

  Daniel Curran!

  He slammed the door of the Mini Cooper and moved toward the porch. His boots crunched in the gravel. He’d dressed for the cool night in a sweater and tight jeans.

  “Mate has to be here,” Delia whispered to Becca.

  “Do we call the police?”

  “We should make sure Mate is here first,” she said and then turned around. “What are you doing, Bogart?”

  He was still on the ground, doing something with his foot. “Now you care? I could’ve died back here.”

  “Are you dead?”

  “I lost my shoe.”

  Delia turned back toward the house.

  The front door opened, and there was Chu Hua in creamy silk pajamas. Her long black hair fell to her waist, and it shined in the porch light. She moved aside to allow Daniel’s entrance.

  “Come on, he’s going inside,” Delia told them.

  The door shut.

  Becca whispered, “Come on, Bogart!”

  Delia didn’t wait for them. The iron was hot, as it were, and Mate would be visible if he were inside the house.

  How empowering it was that she had her friends with her —her posse, her gang! The last time she tried to figure out a murder, she’d been chiefly by herself.

  I am not brave by myself … I’m not courageous now, but if something goes down, at least I’ll have company while dying. Dying is not an act that should be done alone.

  Reaching the double doors of the garage, Delia looked around for her gang. Becca was nearly keeping up with her, but Bogart still hopped along, fighting with his shoe. For a brief second, Delia thought of Thomi and how she’d said, I can’t follow you around and keep you out of trouble.

  Bogart slipped in the grass and almost fell over again.

  I already need a new posse.

  Delia didn’t want to get too close, so she moved along the outside of the garage and into the backyard. Deeper darkness greeted her, and Delia barely made out the rainwater barrels against the wall. She skirted around them and moved toward a screened porch. A soft light came through a window inside the screened area.

  Delia stepped lightly until she was behind the porch but close enough to see through the window.

  So nice of you to keep your blinds open, Chu Hua.

  Becca caught up to Delia and gazed into the house, too.

  Bogart stood behind them. “What’s happening?”

  “They’re just standing there talking,” Delia said. “Where’s Mate?” She studied the windows. No other lights were on. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to see the furniture in the front room. No one sat on the sofas… The movement brought Delia’s eyes back to the couple.

  Chu Hua pounced at Daniel.

  Delia gasped and whispered, “She’s going to kill him!”

  Well, not exactly. Chu Hua kissed Daniel hungrily and forcefully.

  He’d caught her in mid-air and returned the kiss.

  “Ohhh,” Becca let out. It sounded funny because she’d used three different notes to say one word.

  “Oh, my…” Delia turned away. When had she bought a ticket to an R-rated movie? She stepped around Becca and ran into Bogart.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m trying to surveil here.”

  Delia grabbed his arm. “Come on. Mate is obviously not here.”

  “Daniel lied. Mate cannot be his brother,” Becca whispered, following them. “He’s kissing Mate’s girlfriend.”

  They stopped by the rain barrels. Delia turned around. “Maybe he is his brother and he snuck out to be with Chu Hua. Mate might be at Daniel’s house.”

  Bogart leaned into the little group. “Do we know where Daniel lives?”

  “Um, no,” Delia admitted. “We could watch from across the road and follow him home.”

  “If he leaves,” Becca said. “He might spend the night here.”

  “Right,” Delia said, biting her lip and watching the porch area. Then something caught her eye —movement near the porch.

  Bogart voiced something … Delia thought he was singing: There’s someone here, there’s someone here.

  But, he wasn’t singing. Someone was there.

  Her stomach twisted and her eyes began to tear. That was because when Delia got really scared, she cried. She took a big ragged breath…

  Becca and Bogart stared at each other. Then, both of them grabbed Delia’s arms and pulled her down next to the rain barrels. Pivoting around to watch the porch area again, Becca asked, “Who is that?”

  “Shh,” Bogart shushed.

  “You shh,” Becca said and pointed toward the porch.

  The outline of a man moved toward the patio on the other side of the screen. He wore a jacket, so it was hard to tell whether he was slender or muscular … Was it Mate? Was he spying on his girlfriend and brother? Would he kill them when he saw them?

  More tears formed in Delia’s eyes and then the worst happened.

  It was confession time. Because not only did she cry when she was scared, Delia also innately told her own secrets. “I lie to my psychologist when she asks how much ice
cream I’ve been eating.”

  “What?” Bogart asked, keeping his eyes on the man in the yard.

  “I bought fruit last week and didn’t eat any of it.”

  Bogart frowned. Leaning in, he whispered, “Sometimes I sing The Way You Look Tonight. Do you ever pretend to be Frank Sinatra?”

  “Will you two shut up,” Becca hissed. “Focus. Is that the guy? Is it Mate?”

  Delia wiped her eyes and focused.

  The man walked silently, pausing here and there, and then stopping at about the same spot that Delia and posse had stood. The pale light that came through the windows highlighted the man’s features…

  Nicolo Montague!

  “Oh crap,” Delia mouthed at about the same time Becca and Bogart crawled toward the corner of the house. Obviously, they’d recognized the detective too and made a hasty getaway.

  “Wait for me,” she cried, crawling, too, on the heels of her hands and the tips of her boots. Around the corner, she stood erect again and then ran after her friends.

  They were already in the front yard.

  Bogart made it to the motorcycle first and jammed the helmet on his head. Becca jumped on the back of the bike.

  Delia still needed to cross the road. She called, “I will fire you both if you leave me here!” That wasn’t an emotional outburst either.

  I will do it. I will fire them!

  “Hurry,” Becca called, reaching into the sidecar and pulling out the goggles. She held out another pair for Delia.

  Delia snatched them on the run-by. With something akin to a flying leap, she landed in the carriage and squished herself down. Jamming the goggles on her face, Delia peeked through the space between Becca’s and Bogart’s torsos.

  There was Nicolo’s shadow in the back yard, hands-on-hips, and staring in their direction.

  Delia froze with her hands on her goggles. He saw us! Oh no, he saw us! Tears gushed out of her eyes and started to fill the goggles. “I have eaten a family-size bag of chips by myself.”

  Bogart revved the engine a couple of times and then hit the gas.

  Delia was still sick to her stomach when they stopped in the Bloomfield Hatch parking lot. Out of the sidecar, she dropped the damp goggles into the seat.