by V. M. Burns
The waiter returned with a bottle of wine, which he showed to Freemont.
Freemont glanced at the label and nodded. The waiter decorked the bottle and handed him the cork, which he sniffed. Then the waiter poured a small amount into a glass, which he handed to Freemont. Freemont held the glass up to the light, then swished it around and looked intently at it. After a few seconds, he brought the glass to his nose and sniffed. Then he tasted it. He smacked his lips for a few seconds and then nodded. Only then did the waiter acknowledge my existence as he filled our glasses.
Freemont held up his glass and smiled broadly. “This is an excellent rosé. It’s from Provence, Commanderie de la Bargemone, and will pair wonderfully with meaty fish dishes like the grilled swordfish I ordered.”
I sipped the wine and nodded. I wasn’t a big fan of swordfish, but maybe this would change my mind. I reminded myself to have an open mind.
The waiter brought a plate of steamed oysters. He smiled and then hurried away.
I stared at the plate. I prided myself on being open-minded, but oysters were one of the few foods about which my mind remained closed.
Freemont had slurped three oysters out of the shell before he noticed I hadn’t indulged. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you don’t like oysters?”
“Okay.” I sat and stared. “I won’t.”
The silence grew. Eventually, he said, “Seriously, you don’t like oysters?”
I shook my head.
“You must not have ever tried these. They steam them with lemon and garlic.” He looked like a sad puppy. “At least give it a try?”
I glanced at Freemont and saw a look of disappointment. He had tried to provide a unique experience, and I was being difficult. Relationships were about give and take. Compromise, right? Yet, here I was, refusing to share something that was obviously important to him.
I stared at the cyclops on my plate, picked up my fork, and stabbed it. Without thinking, I shoved it into my mouth. The moment it touched my tongue, I knew oysters weren’t going to be something I indulged in. I looked up and noticed him staring. I tried to smile and pretend as though I was chewing. Thankfully, the waiter showed up with our main course. I picked up my glass and gulped down a large amount of wine, which allowed me to swallow the crustacean whole. Unfortunately, the oyster didn’t want to go down without a fight and lodged in my throat. I broke into a coughing fit in an attempt to dislodge it.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head, but he stared and then looked around. “People are staring.”
At that moment, I could have cared less who stared. I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I tried to cough and flopped around, knocking silverware and other items to the floor. Imagine my surprise when the eggheaded man from the obedience class the previous night approached the table. He was dressed in a suit. He looked into my eyes. “Are you choking?”
I nodded.
He reached around and grabbed me by the waist; then, with his fist in my abdomen, he squeezed. All of the air stopped, and I felt lightheaded, but immediately, I felt pressure and then the oyster flew out of my mouth and landed on the floor. Afterward, he helped me return to my seat.
“Breathe.” He took my pulse. Satisfied, he then handed me a glass of water.
I took several breaths. My hands were shaking as I drank.
“Just take deep breaths, hold them, and then release.” He squatted next to me. After several seconds, I felt calm.
“Thank you,” I croaked. My throat felt raw.
“Glad I was able to help.” He smiled. “Your throat will be sore for a bit.” He stared at the swordfish the waiter had placed on the table. “You may want to stick to soft foods for a bit.”
I was so thankful I could have kissed Egghead for not only saving my life but for helping me avoid further sea battles.
He patted me on the knee and then rose to his feet. “I’ll see you at class.”
People at nearby tables burst into spontaneous applause.
I glanced across at Freemont, who looked as though he wanted to crawl under the table.
“I’m sorry,” I said, although I had no idea why I was apologizing.
He flushed. “I’m sure you couldn’t help it, but, well, you’ll have to admit it has rather ruined the mood.”
“Sorry my nearly choking to death ruined your mood.” I stood up and tossed my napkin on the table.
He glanced around. “Sit down.”
“Lilly?” Dixie hurried to the table and threw her arms around my neck. “Oh God! I’m so glad you’re okay.” She hugged me again. “I’m so glad Dr. Morgan was here.”
“Dr. Morgan?” I stared. “Oh, Egghead from the obedience class?”
She smiled. “He’s a coroner, but they’re still doctors.” She shot Freemont a glance that would have curdled milk. “At least he did more than just sit there and stare.” She turned back to me. “Can I give you a ride?”
Freemont scooted his chair back and started to rise. “That won’t be necessary, I can—”
The look he received from Dixie shut down any protest and he returned to his seat.
“Thank you.” I grabbed my purse and turned and walked out with Dixie, leaving Freemont with his swordfish.
Chapter 11
Dixie drove me back to the museum while I filled her in on lunch with Freemont Hopewell, or the little bit of it that I’d experienced. I had never been so thankful for drivers who actually stopped at stop signs and red traffic lights in my life. Freemont viewed them as challenges to be overcome, rather than rules to be observed. Back at the museum, I got out of the car.
“Are you sure you’re okay to go back to work?”
I nodded. “I’m fine. I think I’ll get a cup of tea from the café and a bowl of soup. I’ll be fine.” I stood outside the car. “Do you want to come in and see where I work?”
Dixie shook her head. “Sorry. I need to get back to my meeting, but I’ll call later before I head home.”
“I’m so sorry. I totally forgot you said you had a committee meeting today. I didn’t mean to take you away. I could have taken a taxi back.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I was glad for the break. I mean, I wasn’t glad you nearly choked or that your date with Freemont went downhill. I just meant it was good to get away from the bickering.”
“I knew what you meant.” I smiled. “Thank you again.” I closed the door and walked to the front of the museum. I turned and waved at Dixie, who I knew wouldn’t drive away until she saw me safely inside the building.
I stopped by the café. Thankfully, they hadn’t delivered the lunch I’d ordered yet, and I picked it up and went upstairs. I had hoped Jacob would still be at lunch, but unfortunately, he was sitting at his desk. As I passed holding my tea and soup, he merely lifted an eyebrow.
“Don’t ask.”
He nodded and returned to his work.
I sat down and looked at the three vases of flowers on my desk. I hadn’t actually gotten a good look at the latest bunch in their blue vase. It was a deep rich cobalt with speckles of red, yellow, and black. The flowers around the rim were delicate and translucent. I was so engrossed in admiring the vase, I didn’t hear Linda Kay until she was almost at my desk.
“I’m sorry. I knocked, but you—”
“I was admiring this beautiful vase. I didn’t hear you. Please come in.”
She motored closer to the desk. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? That’s one of my favorite Chihulys.”
I had just taken a sip of tea and nearly spit it out. “Chihuly? As in Dale Chihuly? The world-famous glass artist?”
Linda Kay smiled and nodded.
Jacob entered and stood behind her. “Cobalt blue venetian with flowers, circa nineteen ninety.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to something that beautiful
and expensive.”
“Well, you better start getting used to it. You work in a museum,” Linda Kay said. “Now, are you okay? When Jacob told me you went to lunch with Freemont, I expected you’d be gone for at least three hours. He likes to show off by taking people to his fancy French restaurant. You weren’t gone an hour.” She leaned across the handlebars of her motor scooter and waited.
Jacob stood behind her with his arms folded.
I told them about my experience, and Linda Kay’s facial expression was everything I could have hoped for in sympathy. After a few moments, I wondered if I had been too hasty in walking out. I shared my doubts with Jacob and Linda Kay.
“Absolutely not.” Linda Kay shook her head frantically. “I’m appalled that he merely sat there while you were choking.”
“Well, everyone isn’t good in emergency situations,” I said.
“Maybe not, but he definitely has a cell phone and could have called nine-one-one.” Jacob held up his phone with one hand while he stood with his other hand on his hip.
“When I talk about it now, it seems like maybe I overreacted. I mean, it’s not like he did anything deliberately wrong.”
Jacob and Linda Kay exchanged glances.
“What?” I looked from one to the other.
Finally, Linda Kay sighed. “We didn’t want to influence you against Freemont. I mean, he is a horrible accountant, but he hasn’t done anything wrong, as far as we know.”
“Or that we’ve been able to find out, anyway,” Jacob muttered.
“It’s just that there is something that rubs me the wrong way,” Linda Kay said. “He’s wealthy, and he likes to flaunt his wealth. He’s always talking about his custom-made suits from England or his Italian leather shoes.”
“Or his cologne that costs three hundred dollars per bottle?” I said softly.
Jacob rolled his eyes. “He drives that Beamer like he’s the only one on the planet who’s entitled to use the road and all other traffic must yield to him.”
I’d seen that behavior firsthand.
“However, he would be a good catch.” Linda Kay looked at me as though she were trying to see into my soul.
“I’m not fishing for anything. I was married to my husband for over twenty-five years when he dumped me for a stripper.”
“Oh my.” Linda Kay gasped. “I thought you said you were a widow?”
“I am a widow, now.” I quickly filled them in on Albert’s murder, and since I felt Linda Kay deserved to know, I also filled her in on my arrest for his murder and how we discovered the real killer.
Linda Kay and Jacob listened in rapt silence until I finished.
“Wow. You poor thing. You’ve really been through the wringer.” Linda Kay patted my hand.
“I guess that’s why I was so flattered that someone was interested enough in me to send me flowers. Albert certainly never sent me flowers.”
“Every woman should have beautiful things. You deserve flowers and to have someone treat you like a queen,” she said with passion.
I laughed. “At the moment, I’d accept someone who treated me with respect.”
We chatted for a few additional minutes, and then Jacob reminded Linda Kay that she had to prepare for a board meeting and they left. My soup was cold, so I tossed it into the trash. I took one last look at the flowers and then got up and gently and carefully moved them to the conference table so they wouldn’t be in danger of falling off my desk as I worked. Then I sat down and got busy straightening out the accounting mess Freemont had created.
By the end of the day, my throat was feeling much better, although my neck was stiff from leaning over accounting ledgers all day. I stretched and hurried out. I wanted to get home in time to see Joe before he left.
Traffic was heavy, but thankfully, there were no accidents to delay me. I pulled into the garage and noticed a black SUV parked in front of the house. By the time I got inside the garage door that led past the laundry area, Stephanie was putting Aggie and Turbo out the back door.
Joe was sitting at the breakfast bar with another man, who turned and stood when I entered.
“Hello, you must be Joe’s friend.” I extended my hand.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lilly Echosby, this is my friend Dennis Olson.” Joe turned to Dennis. “Dennis Olson, Lilly Echosby.”
We shook hands.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said.
Dennis Olson wasn’t what I expected. He was older, probably mid to late fifties. I was expecting someone closer to Joe’s age, late twenties. Olson wasn’t as tall as Joe. He was probably five feet ten, with a stocky build. His hair was clipped very close in a buzz cut popular with men in the military, and he had light gray eyes. A raised scar went from the top right side of his face down to his mouth.
Stephanie returned. “How was your day?”
“Don’t ask.” I kicked off my heels. “Mr. Olson, can you excuse me for a minute? I need to change. I’ll be right back.”
“Mr. Olson is my dad. Everyone calls me Red.”
I smiled. “Okay, and please call me Lilly.”
I hurried into the bedroom and quickly changed into jeans and a sweat shirt.
Joe and Red were drinking beer, which Stephanie must have picked up at the grocery store for the men since neither of us cared for it and didn’t drink it. She had a glass of wine.
“You look like you could use a drink.” She moved to the side counter, where I had a small bar setup. “Sex on the Beach?”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Red raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
I accepted the glass Stephanie handed me and drank half its contents before I came up for air. “Mr. Ols...ah, I mean Red, thank you for coming by. Did Joe fill you in?”
He nodded. “Your landlord was murdered and your house was ransacked. What do you think they were looking for?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. Why would anyone go through the flour and sugar canisters unless they were angry and wanted to cause a mess?” I could tell from something in Red’s eyes that he had an idea. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, the one thing that comes to mind is drugs or money.”
“Red works with the Drug Enforcement Division of the TBI,” Joe said.
“Drugs?” I nearly choked. “You think my landlord was selling drugs?”
Red raised a hand. “Hold up. I’m not saying that. I did, however, run a background check on him. There were never any arrests or convictions for drug dealing.”
I stared at Red. “You’re holding something back. What is it?”
“My facial mask must have slipped.” His eyes were wide in surprise. “Obviously, I need to work on hiding my thoughts better.” He hesitated. “Robert Hansen wasn’t involved in drugs as far as we can tell; however, he was a person of interest in an investigation.”
“What type of investigation?” Stephanie asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Not at liberty to say?” I stared from him to Joe. “That must mean you’re still investigating him.”
Red was silent.
“But he’s dead. Surely your investigation is over now.” I turned to get a full view of Red’s face.
However, if he felt his facial mask had slipped earlier, by now he had the mask firmly in place, and neither his face nor his body language gave up any clues.
Joe turned to his friend. “Look, if you know something, I need you to tell us. These are people I care about. If they’re in danger, you owe it to us.”
Joe and Red stared at each other for several tense seconds. During that time, something passed between the two.
Eventually, Red sighed. “I could lose my job for this. Robert Hansen was being investigated for smuggling and espionage.”
“
Espionage?” I stared openmouthed.
“Smuggling what?” Stephanie asked.
“We weren’t sure.”
“Well, considering you work in the Drug Enforcement Division, if he came up on your radar, then it seems like drugs are the most likely possibility.” Joe pounded the counter.
A red flush went up Red’s neck. “Hold up. Smuggling is more than drugs.” Joe started to protest, but Red held up a hand. “Robert Hansen was suspected of smuggling. He hung around with some pretty dicey people, and we weren’t sure what legitimate businesses he had and which businesses were just a cover for other things.” He held up a hand and ticked off items as he spoke. “He was partners in some land business where he bought a lot of real estate, including a number of lots here.” He waved his hand around to indicate the current house. “He was in the business of importing art into the States. He was also a government contractor and might have sold insider information.”
“So he’s guilty of espionage and smuggling?” Joe looked about ready to explode. “Is that all?”
“Proof. We have no proof.”
“Why was he allowed to enter the country without surveillance?” Joe asked.
Red hesitated. “We didn’t know he was back.”
I had been content to listen to the back and forth between Joe and Red, but when they stopped arguing, I raised a hand. “What was the real estate being used for?”
Red shrugged. “We’re not sure. It might have just been his way to launder money. Even the worst criminals have some legitimate businesses.”
“Great.” I took a sip of my drink.
“But what were they looking for?” Stephanie asked.
Red shook his head.
“I think you ladies need to find someplace else to stay. This house isn’t safe,” Joe said.
I stared at Red. “Do you think we’re in danger?”
He looked back at me with an intensity that made me blush. However, I chalked it up to the Sex on the Beach. “I can order extra protection, but...”
“What?” Stephanie and I asked together.
“I don’t know if the bureau will agree. I mean, Hansen was the one under surveillance, and he’s dead. I don’t know if they’ll want to invest in more surveillance. But—”