Mayhem in May

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Mayhem in May Page 10

by Camilla Chafer


  "You can tell her that wasn't the case. He just wanted me to come in for questioning so he could fully eliminate me from his inquiries. That's how he put it anyway."

  "Seating you in the back of the police cruiser where everyone could see you seems a little excessive."

  "He apologized for that but I'm kind of wondering if he wanted people to think he arrested me. Maybe he hoped the gossip would get back to the real killer and they would make a fatal mistake and expose themselves." Ethan laughed, his face lighting up. "I just realized how ludicrous that sounds."

  "I don't think it's so ludicrous. You might be onto something but if that’s the case, I'm not sure I agree with his methods. And if Detective Logan really thought that, I think his plan backfired. Barely anyone noticed and Karen is sworn to secrecy."

  Ethan smiled warmly. "Now I'm a little disappointed not to be part of a big conspiracy to uncover the real killer. Although it does explain why no one except you came swooping down to the prison to bust me out. I thought my brother might show up at the very least."

  "You were at the police station, not the prison," I reminded him, "and I didn't plan on busting you out."

  "But you did have some evidence that suggests I had nothing to do with Lance's murder."

  "I think so," I said, explaining quickly what I found online and how my brief investigation had ultimately gone nowhere. "Now your turn. What did the detective want to question you about?"

  "It's a little embarrassing."

  "You have to tell me. That's why you invited me for drinks." I tapped the rim of my wine glass and smiled. Even though it wasn't technically a date, I took a few minutes to change clothes rather than rush out the door immediately. Both my daughters hovered over me as I refreshed my makeup too. They both kept telling me he could wait. If Ethan noticed my efforts, he didn't say, but instead of feeling deflated, I found myself enjoying the evening. The temperature was still warm and I was having a good time.

  "That's true." Ethan took a long swallow of his beer and returned the glass to the table. "Someone overheard me and Lance getting into an argument--"

  I frowned. "I didn't think you knew him."

  "I don't! We were introduced the night of the party. I was looking for you and someone directed me to Lance. When I told him who I was, he said he had no idea why the museum would hire some hick architect and I needn't bother coming back as he already had someone lined up to take the job. I asked him what the heck? He repeated my services weren't needed and when I told him my instructions didn't come from him, he said he'd see about that. He started getting in my face and--"

  "What?" I pressed.

  Ethan winced. "I pushed him and he stumbled and said I'd pay for that and I said I'd like to see him try. Then he stormed off. I went outside to cool off and when I came back, he was gone. Then I decided I better find you and explain but you were so charming, I got side-tracked."

  "Not exactly the big threat of the night," I pointed out, pretending to turn and look at the group that just entered the bar so he wouldn't see the blush rising on my cheeks.

  "That's what Detective Logan said. But because it was reported to him, and I hadn't mentioned it when he first questioned me, he wanted to hear my side of the story. Then Logan wanted to walk through that night again and he asked me a few other questions before he left me sweating in the interview room for an hour. When he came back, he said I was free to go."

  "You must have been so worried." I reached for his hand and squeezed it. Ethan wrapped his warm fingers around mine, his thumb stroking the fine skin between my thumb and forefinger; it was all I could do not to shiver. Between that and the blush, I should have felt nervous but instead, it felt right.

  "I wasn't worried since I knew I didn't do anything wrong but I felt stupid that I didn’t mention the argument. I didn't even think about it! I doubted Lance could do anything about my appointment since the contracts were already drawn up and neither you nor Artie mentioned anything. I thought it was just bluster," Ethan continued without letting go of my hand.

  "It was! There's no question of anyone else taking on the project. I can't imagine what Lance meant about having someone else lined up."

  "Could he have hired someone without you knowing?"

  "He didn't have the authority to do that! That rests with Artie; and your appointment and the redevelopment funding also had to be fully approved by the board."

  Ethan took another drink. "Once he became the Manager, he could change the protocol," he said.

  I contemplated that. "Artie, Karen and I are all still so perplexed about how he got promoted. You might be right about him planning to hire someone else once Artie was out of the way. He already threatened to fire me and I'm sure he would have found a way to get rid of Karen too." I had to wonder if there was anything fraudulent in Lance's secret plans, not that I could divulge that to Ethan. If Lance were stealing, could he have turned to higher stakes? Perhaps pilfering the books when it came to the redevelopment? That would be easier for him to do if he hired someone that he kept in his pocket. It just seemed so far-fetched! Nothing crazy like that ever happened in Calendar! Sure, we had a spate of crime lately but swindling the museum? Even as I tried to push the crazy ideas aside, I couldn't. Part of me thought it was very likely Lance expected to get away with it. After all, if I were right, he'd been getting away with stealing for weeks, if not months, already!

  "I know what you're thinking," said Ethan.

  "You do?"

  "You're thinking you should talk to the board about their decision."

  I blinked. What? "Oh, yes. Yes, that's it!" I blurted out. Ethan's hand tightened around mine and I was suddenly aware of how long we'd been holding hands. In a bar. With drinks. And the girls insisted I change my clothes for a chic blouse, skinny jeans and heels. Dammit! I was on a date and I didn't even realize it! Just how out of practice was I? Unless... maybe this wasn't a date? While I sipped my wine, I peeked at Ethan from under my eyelashes. Fancy bar. Nice drinks. Holding hands. Check, check, check. And was that a fresh shirt Ethan was wearing? Was his beard a little more groomed? Was that his aftershave I could smell; fresh and masculine and very appealing.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Hmmm? Yes!" I sipped the last of my wine to cover up my sudden panic.

  "It's getting late," said Ethan, retracting his hand. My hand felt bare and cold, alone in the middle of the table so I pulled it back too. "Why don't I walk you home?"

  "Thanks. I'd appreciate that," I replied, discreetly checking my watch. I'd been out later than I anticipated and the girls might still be up waiting for me.

  We grabbed our jackets and stepped outside. It was cooler in the evening bustle of Main Street now that the sun had already set. And with the fairy lights strewn over the trees framing the sidewalk, it made for a romantic vista. Very soon, tourists would visit and we would be inundated with people staying at the quaint bed and breakfasts dotting the town, picking up tabs at the local restaurants and bars that looked forward to the summer income. Not that the tourists ever really left town, but fall was a little quieter until the winter sports visitors arrived, eager for some downtime after a day on the slopes.

  My house was a lengthy walk but I liked living far enough from Main Street that I didn't have to contend with the noise or the property prices that rose the closer they were to town, especially on the side that contained the beautiful historic Victorian houses. My house was a far more modest affair but it suited my family and me. It was the perfect distance to walk to work when the weather was nice, and for Leah and Brooke to get to school and see their friends.

  "We're going to start the audit tomorrow," I told him to fill the sudden silence.

  "Oh?"

  "I thought it would be a good idea to use the museum’s downtime to get started especially after Detective Logan and I searched the library. It won't be thrilling but it'll keep Karen and me occupied constructively until the museum reopens."

  "I'm sure I'll drop in to do some
sketches of the external part of the new wing. Why don't we break up the day with lunch?"

  From the sideways glance he gave me, I was pretty sure Karen and Artie weren't included in the suggestion. "Okay," I said, "That sounds nice. I usually bring a sandwich or a salad, but it would be fun to do something different."

  "Great. Noon tomorrow sound good to you?"

  "Perfect." I didn't say it, but it also crossed my mind that after I spoke to Artie about Lance's activities, it might be refreshing to get out of the museum altogether. I knew Artie wouldn't be happy when I finally told him what I discovered but he needed to know. We still had to work out how to tell the board about the items that went missing on our watch. It would be embarrassing as heck and possibly even worse when we pointed the finger firmly at a dead man. Could we do that without any concrete evidence? So far, I had nothing to tie Lance to the thefts. I would have to ask Artie what he thought tomorrow, especially since Lance's uncle was on the board. If we were right, it would be horribly embarrassing for him.

  Ethan changed the topic and we continued to talk, our pace slowing until we meandered towards my house. "This is me," I said as we paused outside the house.

  He looked up and over it, smiling, then said, "It's cute. Like you."

  "You think I'm cute?"

  Ethan bit back a smile and gave a half shrug, not committing to an answer but not withdrawing his compliment either. He stepped closer and when I didn't move, he dipped his head and landed a gentle kiss on my lips. Without thinking, I kissed him back. His arms went around me, the kiss deepened and my heart raced.

  "I should get going," he murmured, his forehead resting on mine. He brushed back my hair, kissed my head and stepped back. "Thank you for coming out on such short notice. And on a school night too!" he laughed.

  "I had a good time," I told him, smiling so much, I feared I might burst. Karen would be so excited when I told her. Janey too!

  Ethan stepped back, turning on his heel and waving as he began to walk away the way we came. "Until tomorrow!" he called when he was a few paces away.

  "Wait!"

  He stopped. "Yes?"

  "I thought my house was on your way?" I asked, puzzled as he retraced our steps.

  He clapped a palm to his forehead. "It seems I was wrong. I had no idea where you lived when I offered to walk you home. I'm that way," he added, pointing into the distance. "Way, way, over that way." He laughed again.

  I shook my head, laughing too, then waved again as I walked toward my house. I opened and closed the door as softly as I could, slipping off my shoes and tiptoeing upstairs. The girls' bedroom lights were off so I snuck into my bedroom, shut the door and turned on the nightstand lamp. I tossed my clothes into the hamper, pulled on my coziest pajamas and climbed under the covers, settling my head on the pillow, and smiling still.

  A moment later, my door pushed open, and two heads popped around it.

  "So?" asked Leah.

  "Was it a date?" asked Brooke.

  I pushed up on my elbows. "It was a date," I said decisively, laughing as they squealed and hurried in to snuggle on my bed.

  "We want to know everything," said Leah.

  "Everything," echoed Brooke.

  Chapter Twelve

  Guilt crept up on me overnight and I still felt bad by the time I got to work. Somehow it seemed wrong to enjoy a date with Ethan and revel in his lack of arrest when Lance was still dead. Sure, he was a jerk, but he was a dead jerk and no one deserved to die the way he did. That I didn't feel upset about it worried me slightly until I once again, reminded myself of the horrible way Lance behaved towards me.

  Entering through the main doors, I waved to Karen and hurried upstairs before she could ask me what I found out about Ethan's supposed arrest. I would tell her soon but I wanted to speak to Artie before I lost my nerve. Fortunately, he was already in his office, and the door was partially open so I could hear him on the phone. I knocked and he waved me in. Taking a seat, I waited until he was finished.

  "That was the board. They want to know what day we intend to reopen next week," he said when he set down the phone. "George is concerned about the lost revenue," he added with a shake of his head. It wasn't the first time either of us had heard George's grumblings about the money the museum was, or wasn't, making.

  "Has Detective Logan cleared us?"

  "I thought he did but he's coming by to take another look at the crime scene. Do you think we'll ever look at the exhibition room and not see a crime scene?"

  "I hope so," I said. "But it'll be a long time."

  Artie sighed. "I thought as much. What can I do for you? You look troubled. Do you want to take some time off? I'm sure we can swing you a couple of personal days. I wish you would persuade Karen to take some time off too."

  "That's kind of you, but no. I wanted to speak to you about something a little sensitive."

  "The promotion? Don't worry about that. The board will come to their senses any day now."

  "No, no, not that. I've barely thought about it," I protested again, although I had thought about it several times. I still didn't know what to do if I were offered the position.

  "I'm surprised they haven't offered it to you already. I suppose they're aware of how it looks. Wait! You're not thinking of quitting now, are you?"

  "Not at the moment," I told him, although that too crossed my mind. Did I want to stay at the museum where I'd been passed over in favor of a mediocre man for no apparent reason? That didn't build up my confidence in the board. They might do something just as awful in the future. However, if I left, where would I go? Again, I was up against the obstacle of my career. Calendar was hardly bursting with museums. I could start one but that was a grandiose idea that required a large amount of funding with little or no guarantee it would pay off. I could get a job somewhere else but that would involve long commutes and pulling the girls out of school and relocating. Perhaps I would have to retrain before I could change careers. None of those ideas seemed an appealing option. Maybe I could consult for museums from a distance? That could work. I had to shake the idea from my head. Right now, I had to deal with the issue I came to discuss, not plan my future. "It's about Lance," I faltered.

  "What about him?"

  "I feel awful saying this but..." I stuttered to a stop. What if I got it wrong? I'd be accusing a man who couldn't defend himself. No, I was sure I was right. I played out that moment on the mezzanine a hundred times in my head. He took a book and Detective Logan and I confirmed eight books were missing. What Karen also witnessed only added to my certainty. Then there were the jibes Lance made at Ethan. Lance was definitely up to something.

  "Spit it out. This isn't like you, Tess. You're a straight talker."

  "Do you remember I thought Lance had taken a book the night he was killed? I don’t think it was a one off. Several books are missing. I can’t prove it absolutely but I feel certain Lance was stealing from the museum," I said, the words tumbling out in one long stream before I clamped my lips shut. Silence hung between us thick and uncomfortable. Artie stared at me until I dropped my eyes, studying my shoes.

  "I know," said Artie softly.

  My head shot up. "You know?"

  My boss nodded. "I've suspected it for a few weeks now," he confessed. His shoulders sagged and he seemed to deflate as he sank into his chair.

  "I don't understand. Why didn't you say anything? You didn’t even say anything when Karen told us she caught Lance opening display cases!"

  "I hoped I was wrong." Artie breathed out and mashed his mouth. "I wanted to be wrong. I couldn't believe it. Plus, if it were true, I would have to inform the board and his uncle. There would be a police investigation and the insurers would send in their people. It would ultimately turn into a terrible scandal. There was no way to fix it without causing embarrassment all the way around. Then with Lance murdered… I didn’t know what to do!"

  "You're absolutely certain Lance was stealing?"

  Artie nodded. "I caught
him red-handed!"

  "Artie, you better tell me what's been going on."

  "It was six weeks ago. I was closing up one night. You had already gone home and I thought Lance left too. I left my pen somewhere -- the one my daughter bought me -- and I remembered where it was so I went there to get it and there Lance was, lifting one of the little trinket boxes out of the cabinet. He put it in his jacket pocket and closed the case. When he turned around, he saw me in the doorway, watching him. Of course, he blustered some story about noticing it needed fixing and a volunteer must have damaged it as he tried to hide it. He said he would repair it before anyone knew."

  "Since when is Lance an authorized repairer of antiques?"

  "I asked him almost exactly the same thing. I told him to put it back and give me the keys. He did and I walked him out but I've kept my eyes open ever since. I never caught him again. He must have been on alert or else he got smarter. I couldn't be totally sure."

  "Why didn't you say something to me?"

  "I don't know. Maybe for the same reason Karen didn't."

  "The night Lance died, I saw him putting a book in his jacket pocket. Detective Logan said there wasn't one on Lance's body when he searched him. He helped me audit the library and there are eight books missing. That's what I wanted to tell you when Karen interrupted us with the news about Ethan. He wasn’t arrested, just helping Detective Logan," I explained.

  "Glad to hear it. Eight books! My goodness! You think Lance took all of them?"

  "I am sure he took one. I can't be certain that he took them all but now I think about it, it would be a lot easier to steal books than a one-off object that would be quickly noticed. Who would miss a single book? We must have more than a thousand!" I waited for Artie's reaction, surprised that he wasn't as steamed as I was.

  "I feared this," he said after a long pause. "I wanted to believe he hadn't actually stolen anything although I suspected he attempted to. I couldn't see anything missing and believe me, I checked. I trust you, Tess. If you say he stole it, I believe you. Damn! I'll have to inform the board now. There's no hiding something as big as this."

 

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