A Vintage View of Murder

by Mary Maxwell

  He dropped the pad on the coffee table and flopped down beside me on the sofa. I leaned in and pressed against his warmth.

  “This is heaven,” I said.

  “You’re right about that, babe. Can you see us doing it for the next fifty years?”

  I laughed softly. “Or maybe longer.”

  He reached for my chin, taking it gently in one hand.

  “We’ll be in our eighties by then,” he said. “Do you think that’s really possible?”

  “These days?” I nodded with a smile. “Look at Blanche and Boris; both well into their eighties and still going strong.”

  He thought about the feisty couple for a moment or two. Then he started to tell me about a recent encounter with Blanche’s husband in the drug store.

  “He called me ‘young man,’” Zack said. “And then, out of nowhere, he asked if I knew the secret to a happy marriage.”

  “Because he knows that we’re engaged,” I said.

  Zack shrugged. “Possibly. He obviously knows about it, but he didn’t mention us specifically. I think he was in a reflective mood because he’d just been to the doctor for his annual checkup.”

  “Did he tell you that?” I asked.

  “Eventually,” Zack replied. “But it was pretty obvious he was in a serious mood. He kept referring to Blanche as Mrs. Boris Hertel, and he had a very solemn look on his face.”

  “He keeps calling her that,” I said, “even though she didn’t legally change her name this time.”

  “Well, it didn’t really matter,” Zack replied. “Because the point of the conversation was how to have a happy marriage. He said there were five things that worked for him and Blanche.”

  “And?” I poked his ribs. “What’s the first one?”

  “Gas-X,” Zack said. “Apparently, Boris has a pretty touchy stomach.”

  I laughed. “He was joking, right?”

  “I don’t think so,” Zack said. “He had two boxes of the chewable tablets in his basket.”

  I frowned. “Are you making this up?”

  He shook his head. “No way! Boris was buying the stuff. And I’m telling you what he actually said.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I replied. “What were the other things?”

  “Laugh a lot,” Zack said. “Help other people. And stay optimistic.”

  I did a quick calculation. “That’s only four.”

  Zack yawned. “See? My brain doesn’t work right when I’m this tired.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” I kissed his cheek. “I’ll ask Blanche the next time I see her.”

  He stretched his arms overhead and yawned again. Then he pulled me closer for a lingering hug. As we snuggled together, I felt my muscles loosen and the tension of the day finally slip away. I closed my eyes, listened to Zack’s heart and felt waves of bliss and comfort sweeping through me.

  “I’ve got it,” he said after a minute or two. “The last thing on the list was super simple.”

  I opened my eyes. “What was it?”

  “Guess,” Zack said. “I bet you can get it.”

  “How much are we wagering?” I asked.

  “A buck,” he replied. “I used the rest of my cash buying dinner.”

  “You’re on,” I said.

  “Alright,” he said. “Go ahead and guess. What’s the last thing on Boris and Blanche’s list for a happy marriage?”

  “Gas-X Ultra?” I smiled. “For the Taco Tico days?”

  Zack reached over and tweaked my nose. “No, babe. It’s the thing that we talk about all the time anyway.”

  “Well, what is it?” I said. “The suspense is—”

  He put one finger against my lips.

  “It’s gratitude,” he said. “According to the wise and wonderful Boris and Blanche, the key to happiness is Gas-X, laughter, helping others, having a positive attitude and being grateful for every moment, every year and every memory.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Vince Stafford came into the office at Sky High Pies the next afternoon with a backpack over one shoulder. He was wearing tennis gear, mirrored sunglasses and a grin that landed somewhere between swaggering and self-righteous.

  “Afternoon, Kate.” He pushed the shades onto the top of his head. “How’s it going?”

  I put down the cookbook that I’d been flipping through and got up from the chair.

  “It’s going,” I said. “What brings you to this side of town?”

  He dropped the backpack on one guest chair and sat in the other.

  “You,” he said. “I found something that I think might be helpful for your investigation.”

  I waited while he opened the bag, reached inside and came out with a leather-bound journal. After he moved the stapler, pencil holder and my coffee cup, he opened the book and put it on the edge of the desk. I noticed that it was a 2009 daily calendar. He flipped through the pages until he came to the week that Evie was abducted.

  “After our chat the other day, I remembered something strange.” He looked down at a few words scrawled across the bottom of the two pages. “I always keep meticulous records about my students,” he continued. “Most of the things are about their progress, trouble spots, training tips and overall performance.”

  “Sounds smart,” I said. “And it looks like you used an old-school approach, writing things in an actual book.”

  He glanced up and frowned. “This was ten years ago,” he said. “I use my iPhone these days.”

  When he went into his jacket to show me the aforementioned device, something tumbled out of his pocket onto the floor.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, flashing a smile. “Must be clumsy day.”

  I leaned to one side and watched him scoop up a set of car keys, a wad of crumpled bills and a pack of gum.

  “Anyway, I wrote down something that I heard one day before we started a lesson that week.” Vince studied the lines of text along the bottom of the journal. “It was two days before Evie went missing. I generally gave her a lift since her house was between my place and the country club. When I got there that day, Evie was still getting ready, so Mrs. Hale suggested that I wait in the living room. She and her husband were in the kitchen having a conversation. At first, they were whispering and talking in hushed voices, but then things got pretty heated. It was obvious that something had happened with Evie and her brother because Mr. Hale was threatening to leave the kids out of his will. It was so strange that I wrote this down when I got home.” He looked at the journal again. “Mr. Hale said, ‘Those kids have been nothing but disappointments. I’m changing my will so they can start from scratch. That’s what my father did and I turned out just fine.’”

  He closed the journal and asked what I thought.

  “A couple of things,” I replied. “Mr. Hale was right; he originally turned the family business into a gold mine before he got overextended toward the end of his life. I don’t know what his net worth was when he died, but Evie turned things around nicely.”

  Vince laughed. “What was the other thing?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You said that you thought of two things when I was reading what Mr. Hale told his wife.”

  “Ah, that’s right,” I said. “The other thing was how detailed your notes are. You seemed to be quoting Sean Hale word-for-word.”

  “I was,” he said. “I wrote it down that day so I wouldn’t forget.”

  “Do you make a habit of that?”

  He shrugged. “Only when I hear things that seem unusual or troubling.”

  “Like a father telling his wife that he’s leaving their children out of his will.”

  “Yep. Just like that.”

  “Did you mention that to Evie or her brother?”

  Vince laughed. “Would you?”

  “Probably not,” I said. “I guess it would depend on how close we were.”

  “Exactly,” he replied. “I was just the tennis instructor. I wasn’t a family friend. And I certainly wasn’t
on the same social level. Mr. Hale made that quite clear whenever he gave me a check for Evie’s lessons.”

  “Did he actually say something to suggest that he looked down on you?”

  “Oh, that wasn’t necessary,” Vince said. “Evie filled me in during her second or third lesson. She told me that her father considered anyone who wasn’t wealthy to be beneath their family.”

  “Really?”

  Vince laughed again. “Oh, yeah. Old man Hale was an absolute elitist snob. But I didn’t care. I loved my work. Still do, in fact. I tried once to engage him in conversation about my five-year plan, but he always blew me off.”

  “Well, the plan obviously worked,” I said. “You’ve got the tennis academy in Denver, the summer clinics for elite student athletes and the chain of retail shops.”

  He lifted his chin and smiled. “See? Evie’s father was wrong about everything.” He paused, dropping his gaze to the journal. “Of course, I did have a bit of help to make it happen. The summer that Evie was kidnapped, one of my great aunts passed away. We weren’t especially close or anything, but she left me a large part of her estate.”

  I made a mental note to tell Dina about Stafford’s inheritance. Then I asked Vince if he’d informed the police about the notes in his journal.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I thought you’d like to know, and I was coming to this part of town for a couple of appointments.”

  “Well, it’s good of you to share it,” I said. “I would imagine that Detective Kincaid will want to get a look at your journal, so keep it handy.”

  “I will,” he said. “If this helps the police prove that Dwayne Hale was involved in his sister’s disappearance, I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

  “Is that your theory?” I asked.

  “Who else?” he said. “If Dwayne was aware that his father was cutting him off, I bet he staged the kidnapping and took the ransom so he could start over up north.”

  “What do you mean start over?”

  “Don’t you know?” Vince said. “A couple of years after he left town, I heard that Dwayne had opened a bar in Cheyenne when he got kicked out of the military academy.”

  “Someone in town told you that Dwayne was living in Wyoming?” I asked.

  He nodded, but didn’t say more.

  “That’s a pretty intriguing theory,” I said. “I’m sure Detective Kincaid would like to know that, too.”

  “I figured as much,” Vince said. “I’ll be sure and tell her when I stop by to show her my old journal.”

  CHAPTER 36

  “How’s Tobias doing?” Julia asked the next morning as we finished setting up the front line for the day. “I saw Louella at the library last night. She said the doctors are keeping him in the hospital for at least another day or two.”

  “He was in good spirits when I visited him,” I said. “His color was good, he was being sassy with the nurses and his appetite had improved.”

  “He’s a fighter,” Harper said. “It’s a miracle that he survived the attack.”

  Julia turned to me. “Have they caught the people that did it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Any leads?” Harper asked.

  “Tobias gave the police a good description of the person’s shoes,” I replied. “They were scuffed wingtips that were speckled with drops of paint and worn without laces.”

  Harper frowned. “Did you say wingtips?”

  “Spattered with paint,” I replied, “and worn without shoelaces. Does that ring any bells?”

  She sighed. “Do you know Corbin Porter? He comes in with a slinky blonde every so often.”

  Julia giggled. “A slinky blonde?”

  “Yeah,” Harper said. “I can’t remember her name, but she works at the—”

  “Do you mean Katrina?” Julia asked. “She teaches hatha yoga at the place that I go to.”

  “Okay, now I think I’ve got,” I said. “She’s really gorgeous, and he’s got long hair that he wears in a ponytail?”

  “That’s them,” Harper said. “They’ve been going out forever.”

  Julia made a face. “Really? He doesn’t seem like her type.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Because she’s always so put together,” Julia said. “And he’s always a little…you know, scruffy and disheveled.”

  “Maybe she’s attracted to the artistic type,” I suggested.

  Julia shrugged. “Maybe so. I don’t know her terribly well. But I had no idea she was going out with that grungy guy.”

  I smiled. “Takes all kinds,” I said.

  “Including the ones that aren’t all that familiar with the concept of soap and water,” Harper added with a wicked laugh.

  “So what do you know about him?” I asked.

  “Besides being a slob,” Harper said, “Corbin and Vince Stafford rented a house together around the time that Evie and Caroline were abducted. Do you know if the police know about that?”

  “I bet it’s in the original case files,” I said. “I haven’t seen them myself, but I’ll ask Dina about Porter when she’s here tomorrow.”

  “Are you guys getting together to discuss the case?” Julia asked.

  I smiled. “Her grandparents arrive later today for a visit,” I said. “They wanted to take a stroll down Memory Lane, beginning with one of their favorite spots to eat.”

  “That’s sweet,” Harper said. “I bet Dina will be happy to have them in town.”

  “She will,” I said. “But not as happy as when they leave. Her grandmother can be a bit much. She makes my mother look positively calm and easygoing.”

  Julia made a face. “Is Dina’s grandmother really that bad?”

  “Worse,” I said. “And she’s getting crankier with each passing year.”

  CHAPTER 37

  “I’m glad you’re sitting down,” Dina said, walking into the office at Sky High around nine the next morning as I worked on the invoice for Becca Harwood’s graduation party. “I’ve got some mind-blowing news.”

  I put down my pen and waited while she crossed the room and took a seat facing the desk.

  “Where are your grandparents?” I asked.

  She groaned. “At the table,” she said. “They’re arguing about some obscure detail from the last time they ate here before moving to Austin.”

  “Hopefully, the food will distract them from bickering.”

  She crossed her fingers and smiled.

  “So what’s the news?” I asked.

  “We have a match on the third set of fingerprints found on the duct tape,” Dina explained. “They’re from the keychain medallion that Leslie Weiss found in the alley after Tobias was attacked.”

  “Justin Kennedy?” I said.

  Dina shook her head. “Try again?”

  “Dwayne Hale?”

  “Good guess,” she said. “And you’re definitely getting warmer. Louella told me that Evie’s brother was best buds with the guy ten years ago. They used to smoke weed and listen to music and paint together in a makeshift studio in the garage of a rental house on Sprucewood Street.”

  “Corbin Porter?” I said.

  She touched the tip of her nose with one finger. “That’s the guy!” she said. “When Vince Stafford dropped off his old journal, he told me that Dwayne and Corbin were pretty tight that summer.” She stopped long enough to flash a mile-wide grin. “He told me something else, too.”

  “Good news or bad?” I asked.

  “That depends,” she said. “Vince confessed to a long running on-and-off affair with Evie.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Are you joking?”

  She laughed. “Not at all. I told him that rumors were buzzing about the smooching session at Tipton’s. He denied it at first. But when I asked a couple of questions, the cad just spilled the beans. When Evie was married to Andrew and Vince was married to Sandra, they’d sneak off to cheap motels. Now that they’re both divorced, they don’t need that subterfuge. They don’t go
out to restaurants or anything, but meet at his place or hers.”

  “I’m stunned that he told you,” I said.

  Dina smiled. “I think Vince was pretty stunned himself after he blurted it out.”

  “Okay, so…” My mind was clicking in different directions with the new information. “…let’s focus on that later. Tell me more about Vince’s old roommate. You’re positive that he assaulted Tobias?”

  Dina nodded. “He also helped Dwayne and Justin Kennedy stage Evie’s kidnapping,” she said. “We arrested him a couple of hours after you told me about Harper’s tip yesterday. I was talking to Jim Rosewood in the Crime Lab about the evidence collected at Vintage View. When we got to the keychain medallion and Jim mentioned something about fingerprints, I asked him to run them against the duct tape. I also had him to check the coffee mug that Corbin used when he came in to talk to me a couple of days ago.”

  “I didn’t know you were onto him already,” I said.

  Dina shook her head. “I wasn’t, but I thought it would be good to talk to him since he and Vince rented a house together the summer of the kidnappings.”

  “What about the shoes?” I asked. “Didn’t you notice the splattered paint on his wingtips?”

  “That’s the thing,” she replied. “He was wearing hiking boots when he came into the station.”

  I gave her a look. “Okay,” I said. “But if you didn’t suspect him, why did you keep the coffee mug to run for prints?”

  “Old habit,” she said. “I can’t explain exactly why, but my gut instinct told me the guy was shady. I didn’t have time at that very moment to run him through the system, but I slipped the mug into an evidence bag just in case.”

  “You’re crafty, Detective Kincaid,” I said.

  She smirked. “You probably would’ve done the same thing, Katie. There’s something about Corbin Porter that screams shifty and dishonest.”

  “When did you suspect his was involved with this case?”

  She shook her head. “Not until last night,” she said. “I called Chuck McBride after I found his interview notes with Porter from ten years ago. Did you know that Caroline Whitman was Corbin’s alibi for the night that Evie was abducted?”