Liz waved to Kate, and left to say hello to her sister as she pulled up.
“God, I hate being pregnant,” Emily said, rubbing her stomach. Neal stood behind her looking helpless and rubbing her shoulders. “Hold my plate, honey? I have to go to the bathroom again.”
My friend pushed herself up with some effort and headed to the house with Neal by her side.
Left alone, I headed toward Peter, who was surrounded by my two cousins in the trash removal business.
“Dude,” said Docker. “You should interview us. We’ve been collecting buoys for two days. I swear this is a good story.”
“What is?” I asked.
“The Buoy Bandit,” said Ted.
“I’ll take what I can get,” said Peter. “But my editor has someone else covering FIGAWI.”
From behind me, Andy’s girlfriend, Georgianna, materialized in one of her formfitting horizontal striped shirts, this one a nautical blue and white striped, coupled with formfitting white jeans. Emily was right, she did pull them off.
“Hi, Stella,” she said.
Andy walked up beside her, and she put her arm around his waist.
“Hi, Georgianna,” I said. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m exploring new chakras,” she said, pulling her hair back and into a bun as she spoke. She gave off a conservative image, but one never knew what words would come out of Georgianna’s mouth. I decided it was my favorite part about her. “Did you know there are seven spiritual powers in the human body?”
“I didn’t,” I said, but the businesswoman in me was wondering if anyone would be interested in candles that represented each power.
“Ready, Stella?” said Andy.
“For what?” said Peter.
“Yeah,” said Georgianna. “For what?”
I felt oddly uncomfortable, which I knew I shouldn’t. Once again, however, standing between both men seemed weird. I wasn’t involved with either, but I felt I was cheating on both.
“I’m getting a lift,” I said to Peter. “Andy’s heading to the Melville and my car window’s broken.”
“I can tell you about chakras while they’re gone,” Georgianna said to Peter. “You’ll be fascinated.”
“Sounds great?” he said, looking less than excited to learn about chakras.
I squeezed Peter’s hand and gave him a smile, then walked toward the pile of cars in front of Chris and Suzie’s house. I must have kept my apartment door open a second too long when I’d left, because when we arrived at Andy’s car, Tinker was on his hood.
I patted his head.
“Want a deputy?” I said to Andy as we opened the car doors. “He’s good company.”
“No can do,” said Andy, but Tinker was already in the car and on the floor before he finished the sentence.
“It’s no use,” I said. “He’ll find away in either way.”
We closed the doors.
“So, are you and Peter a real thing?” said Andy as he pulled out onto the road.
“We have much more important things to discuss than my love life,” I said.
Chapter 22
Now that we were headed to Gina’s, the idea of facing a murder suspect on her turf was all too real. I focused on the line of cars heading into town to see the regatta arrive as we headed out toward the inn. Traffic meant that people would be hitting the stores in town, so fingers crossed that would lead to business at the Wick & Flame.
I looked at Andy, who was studying the road. I could see he had a lot on his mind. He had put on his police cap, which he didn’t often do. I was thinking he looked older in it, but then changed my mind when I saw a drawing in black ink behind his ear of a happy emoji with a mustache.
“Is that a tattoo behind your ear?” I said, tugging at his earlobe.
Andy pulled his head away.
“No,” he said. “Georgianna thought it would be funny to draw it on me when I was asleep. I didn’t notice it, of course, because who sees drawings behind their ear? She keeps doing things she thinks are funny jokes, but she’s really, and I mean really, bad at pranks.”
“It’s kind of funny,” I said.
I laughed. Andy looked at me and grabbed my nose between his knuckles. The gesture lasted only a second, but it was new for us, and we both got quiet for a moment.
“Georgianna’s decided that if she is going to stay on Nantucket, she needs to get off the sea and get in touch with the land. And her chakras,” said Andy. “She’s given up sailing to become an artist.”
“Good for her,” I said, thinking that Voldemort could have learned something from Georgianna. As for the chakras, what was I going to say?
When we finally left town and hit the open road toward the inn, Andy glanced at me.
“Ready for this?” he said.
“Are you kidding?”
“This is not a game,” he said. “This is a murder investigation. A violent murder, too.”
“I know that,” I said. “Need I remind you that while you’ve been chasing mischief makers on beaches, I’ve likely spent the weekend with a murderer?”
I immediately regretted what I had said. I had so much respect for Andy’s work.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Bah,” he said. “I’ve been knee deep in lobster-trap buoys half the weekend.”
A few minutes later, we pulled up to the cottage.
“Stella,” he said before we got out.
“No speeches,” I said. “I’ll be careful. Anyway, who’s going to think that the Candle Lady would pursue a murderer?”
“Someone who thinks like a murderer,” he said. “Just know, I’ve got us covered.”
“I appreciate the chivalry,” I said.
“It’s not chivalry. And by the way, as a police officer, I don’t like the idea that you might unwittingly tell something to your new boyfriend that might end up in the paper,” he said.
“Are you accusing Peter of pursuing me for my pillow talk?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or punch him.
“Pillow talk?” he said. “That’s fast.”
“Zip it,” I said. “Peter will investigate what Peter investigates. He doesn’t need me.”
I opened the car door and marched straight to Gina’s door with the bag containing her outfit. Any apprehension I had about talking to a potential murderer had dissolved. I was a woman with a mission.
I knocked. I noticed Tinker had not joined us. I wondered if his instincts were right.
There was no answer, but I was used to Gina’s door-answering routine.
Andy was beside me. We waited a moment. Then, he put his hand on his gun as he raised the other to knock once more.
“Hold on there,” I said, laying a hand on his forearm. “You brought me here for subtlety, right?”
I knocked again.
“I have to admit,” said Andy as we waited. “If you were to change professions, this isn’t a bad one for you.”
The door opened, and Gina Ginelli stared at us.
“Thank God,” she said. “I was afraid you’d be one of the gang of partiers that slept on the beach last night. We had a good laugh and a great swim, but in the light of day, I think it’s better we all went our separate ways, if you know what I mean.”
Gina looked very different from the woman I’d seen weeping on the widow’s walk last night. Her hair was tousled, she wore jeans and a man-tailored shirt, tied at the waist with the sleeves rolled up.
“I have your clothes,” I said, raising my bag. “I hate to intrude, but I left my stuff in your car last night.”
“Of course, come in, both of you,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, happy that my ruse to get inside had worked. That done, I wasn’t sure what to do next.
“How’s your trip been?” said Andy to Gina. He eyed the cottage as he spoke. I looked around, too, casually of course. Everything was super tidy. Even the script that had been scattered on Gina’s table yesterday was now in a neat pile.
“Th
e trip’s been very productive,” she said. “I’ve gotten a lot of work done. Stella, I’ll just trot upstairs and grab your bag.”
“Ms. Ginelli,” said Andy. “If it’s not too intrusive, would you mind if Stella grabbed her things herself? I have a full plate today and I know I promised to tell you a little bit about small-town cops. I’d hate to let you down.”
“You’re not letting me down at all,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ve got it,” I said and stepped ahead of her.
Gina smiled, graciously.
“Well, then, thank you for your offer,” she said. “I always appreciate the opportunity to add a thing or two to my actors’ tool bag.”
I had no idea why Andy wanted me to do this errand alone. At the top of the stairs, I turned and waved to both of them. They both waved back. Andy was behind Gina. He pointed his fingers to his eyes and then made a circular motion with them. I took that to mean he wanted me to look around her room. I saluted, then cringed at my response as I turned and walked into her room.
Gina was definitely in a housekeeping mood this morning. Her room was as tidy as the living space downstairs. I made a decision to clean my apartment.
My bag, as promised, was on her bed. Beside it was a shopping bag in which I found my clothes as well. I’d plumb forgotten them as I’d rushed out of Gina’s car last night. The shopping bag was gorgeous. Thick and blue with a store name I did not recognize but which advertised that it was from Milan. I hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be any sort of evidence because I really wanted to have it in my emergency collection stuck under my kitchen sink. I’d probably use it to hold all the other bags I shoved under there.
The room was ridiculously tidy, and nothing stood out, so I went into the bathroom. It was spic and span, too. Remarkably so. All the makeup that had been scattered around the vanity last night was put away. I glanced at the shower and towel racks that had been covered in all sorts of lingerie last night. This afternoon, there was no sign of them. I opened her bathroom drawers. They were empty. This was both exciting and terrifying to me, and in spite of my confidence only a few minutes ago, I admit I was glad Andy was in the house and carrying a gun.
I suddenly didn’t want my disappearance upstairs to be too long for fear that Gina would catch on that I was snooping around. I decided, however, to do one more thing before I headed downstairs. I opened the closet door.
At least one mystery was solved. From the looks of it, pretty much everything Gina had brought with her on her trip to Nantucket was now shoved in the walk-in closet. On a luggage rack in the middle of the closet was a half-packed suitcase with most of the items I had seen last night. I surmised that the tidiness of the cottage was not due to a housekeeping bug, but because Ms. Gina Ginelli was no longer planning to spend the entirety of Memorial Day weekend on Nantucket. I confess the revelation did make me feel a little better about my own domestic habits.
“Do you see the bag?” Gina called up from below.
“Got it,” I said, closing the closet door and quickly grabbing the bag.
On my way out, I glanced out the bedroom window and realized that it looked over the drive where Andy and I had parked. I realized that Gina could have easily seen us pull up and thrown her suitcase into the closet. A sneaky exit did not bode well for her.
I exited the room and held the bags up for both to see as I descended the stairs.
“I don’t know what took me so long,” I said, aware as the words came out of my mouth that I was not being too cool. “I just wanted to make sure everything was inside. It was.”
“Good,” said Gina. “Well, then, I guess this is goodbye. It was good to see you both. And thank you, Officer, for the description of how the police make arrests. I’ll be sure to share it with my director.”
“I’m so impressed with how tidy your room and bathroom are,” I said, hoping that Andy would get what he needed from me by my hint. “I hope I didn’t make a mess last night,”
Andy nodded to me. Message received.
“Not at all,” said Gina, heading to the door.
“Ms. Ginelli,” said Andy. He did not move to follow her to the door.
I had no idea what I was supposed to do. His formality was subtly crushing.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Ms. Ginelli.” Andy pulled out his notebook from his hip. “Were you having an affair with Simon Sterling?”
Chapter 23
I really wished Emily were here for this.
“How dare you come to my home and accuse me of having an affair with anyone?” Gina said without missing a beat. “What’s this about, anyway? Is this some sort of island joke at my expense?”
Oh, she was good.
Andy still did not move.
“I will kindly ask you to leave,” she said and opened the door.
“I’ll ask the question again,” Andy said. “Were you having an affair with Simon Sterling?”
I was sure Andy was about to show her the note from Gina’s purse that I’d given him. If he was so worried about me being in danger, he was about to put me right into the thick of things. To my relief, however, he surprised me.
“We have copies of Simon Sterling’s phone records,” he said. “More than half the calls were made to a phone in your name.”
I looked at him with an admiring glance, and he shifted his jaw in that wink-thing he does. As promised, he had done his homework, touched base with a couple of officers who’d been working on the case. In my book, he was one of the island’s finest.
Gina closed the front door.
“Dio mio,” she began muttering to herself in Italian. “Sono stupida. Stupida. Stupida . . .”
Gina left the door and sat on her sofa where she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. I was not prepared at all for Italian or hysterics. I was prepared for running, threats, any sort of danger, but not tears. I looked at Andy. From the look on his face, I realized I probably had more experience with a woman in a love crisis than he did.
“Affairs, huh?” I said, sitting next to her. Andy could be the bad cop. I decided I would play the good cop. I looked at Andy with an expression that said as much. He nodded the tiniest bit, but enough to encourage me to continue.
Gina sort of laughed in the midst of her tears, which I took as a good sign. She pulled a tissue from a box conveniently placed beside the sofa and dabbed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to compose herself as she did.
“The answer to your question, Officer Southerland, is yes,” she said. “I was having an affair with Simon Sterling. I can’t imagine how this matters to your investigation of that horrible man, Bill Duffy. I will ask you to please, please, do everything in your power to keep our affair out of the papers. It would be a terrible and unnecessary blow to my career and my personal life.”
“When did you meet Simon?” I said, trying hard to ignore her disparaging description of Bill.
“Last summer,” she said.
Andy sat down on a club chair across from the sofa. I noticed he did not stop me from asking the questions this time.
“Where?” I said.
“Italy,” Gina said. “I live in LA, but I summer in Italy. Kevin usually travels during the summer. Me? I like my cypress trees and the olives and the food and the people.”
“Where is Mr. Bunch now?” said Andy.
Gina laughed a little bitterly.
“I see you don’t read the social columns,” she said. “He’s yachting with a French model.”
I looked at Andy, who was now scribbling down this information. I supposed he was wondering if Kevin Bunch had yachted his way to Nantucket to kill Simon Sterling for having an affair with his wife, but Gina flashed her phone at us.
We peered at the screen to find pictures of Kevin living it up on the Riviera. The lead picture was of an already legendary party on Friday night in which the model Gina had referred to was pouring champagne over Kevin Bunch. Unless he had a super-sonic speed bo
at, he was not Simon’s killer.
“Do you and Simon have mutual friends? Is that how you met?” I asked, getting back to Simon. She had shared the when and where of their meeting, but not the how.
“We met outside of Naples, at a café,” she said and grabbed another tissue. “We were seated at tables next to each other. I was impressed that a man of his sophistication was happy to spend an afternoon alone at a café in such a small town. I told him as much. One thing led to another, and we ended up spending all afternoon talking. By that night, I was a goner.”
I had a feeling that the café near Naples was probably in the small town where the Sterling brothers had shared their land. Simon was likely enjoying his espresso and the southern Italian landscape after snooping out the land his brother wanted to sell. It occurred to me that perhaps Simon had changed his mind about selling the land because he wanted an excuse to stay near Gina. Why she wanted to be with him, however, was still beyond me.
“He called me Belle,” Gina said.
“And what happened?” said Andy. “Was he threatening to go public? Was he blackmailing you? Did you track him down to the Melville and hit him with a candlestick?”
Gina laughed.
“Do you think this is some Hollywood B-movie?” she said. “Gina Ginelli does not go around killing people. Do you know how many people would be dead by now if I went around killing men who let me down? Give me some credit!” And with that, she tossed her crumpled tissue onto the side table.
“Do you have an alibi for the night of the murder?” he asked, holding steady.
“I was here. Working,” she said, and shifted in her chair with a sudden shudder. “Why does it matter? Why are you asking me these questions? You have your man.”
“We know you were in the Game Room,” I said, cutting to the chase.
Gina sunk back into the sofa’s cushions. She looked very small.
“How do you know that?” she said, without contradicting my accusation.
“Your perfume,” I said.
She nodded. Defeated.
“How did you get into the Sun Room?” said Andy. “Did Simon let you in?”
“No,” she said. She sunk her hands into her pocket and pulled out a room key to the Melville. Andy took it. “The key was on the kitchen counter when I arrived with a note from Simon to meet him in the Game Room from the side doors in the Sun Room.”
Murder's No Votive Confidence Page 17