Murder's No Votive Confidence

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Murder's No Votive Confidence Page 18

by Christin Brecher


  “Why meet at the inn?” said Andy. “If you wanted privacy, the inn’s not the best spot.”

  Gina buried her head in her hands. When she looked up, her face was older and sad.

  “Did Mrs. Sterling tell you how Simon had once wanted to be an actor?” she said.

  Andy shook his head and made a note.

  “Go on,” I said.

  “He was the one who encouraged me to take this role. It’s different for me,” she said. “He loved to help me on it. I’m working on a scene where my character breaks into a hotel in the wee hours of the morning, to meet her lover. I told Simon about it, and he thought it would be fun for us to act it out. He had a wonderful imagination.”

  “And you brought the key with you to the Melville when you went to meet him?” I said.

  She nodded. “He was going to open the door to the Sun Room himself to let me in, of course, but I brought the key with me anyway. When I got to the inn, I waited. Three o’clock came and went and he didn’t open the door. It was getting cold, so I decided to go inside. That’s when I saw the body. You don’t think I killed him, do you? Because I would never do anything to harm that man. That’s why I went to the hospital, to the inn. I’ve wanted to learn about his death. Not for my movie, but because I loved him. You don’t understand, I thought you found the murderer. That’s why I haven’t said anything to the police.”

  “So, you went to the Game Room,” said Andy. “What happened?”

  Gina’s eyes welled up again with tears.

  “Nothing,” she said. “He was dead. He was on the floor, splayed out with that hideous medieval candle broken in half beside him.”

  After that last comment, it took all of my will not to tell Andy to arrest her right there.

  “What was your plan for that night?” he said, probably afraid I would do exactly that.

  “He was very excited about the night. For the whole weekend actually.”

  “Was it why he told Jessica he’d walk her down the aisle?” I said. “So you two could secretly meet?”

  Gina nodded.

  “I made it clear we could never be properly married,” said Gina, “but he didn’t care. He said he wanted to prove his love to me. He said that he had a ‘gift wrapped in a gift’ for me that would symbolize our union and make us a family, even if no one else could ever know. He said he had branded himself for me, and that he had something for me to bind myself to him. It was such a riddle, and now I’ll never know what he meant.”

  “Did you see anyone or hear anything when you went to the inn?” said Andy.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Except. Oh, I don’t know.”

  “What?” I said.

  “I thought I heard footsteps coming toward the room. That’s why I fled.”

  If those footsteps were Tony’s, he was off the hook.

  “Did you see who it was?” said Andy.

  “No,” said Gina. “But I can prove to you I could not kill Simon.”

  “How?” said Andy. His question was open-ended, but his tone was skeptical.

  “My shoulder,” she said. “There was no way I could lift that candle and hit him over the head with enough force to kill him. Last year, when I was in a stage production of Taming of the Shrew, I hurt myself in rehearsal for a fight scene. I almost had to drop out of the play. I had surgery two months ago and I’ve been in physical therapy since. You can ask my doctors.” She ran to the kitchen table, to her purse, and rifled through it until she produced a card that she handed to Andy. “Call Dr. Bilky. He’ll confirm everything. You can even test me if you have to.”

  “If what you say is true, Gina,” said Andy, “you need to think. Did you see Simon earlier that day? Was there anything unusual about him? Anything that would suggest that he was in danger?”

  “I never saw him,” she said. “Our first meeting was supposed to be that night.”

  A bottle of wine sat on the counter next to her purse. Gina opened a cabinet above her, took out a glass, and poured with a shaky hand.

  “I was so angry about the injury,” she said after a healthy sip. “Now, it turns out, the accident might save me from a life in prison. It’s so unpredictable how life works, isn’t it?”

  It was a little melodramatic, but I got where she was coming from. Andy closed his notebook, but I was still thinking about Simon’s riddle.

  “I’ll call your doctor,” he said. “And in the meantime, please do not leave the island this weekend or we will put out an APB for your arrest.”

  She nodded, obediently.

  “I’m sorry we’ve upset you, but I think I can answer a couple of the riddles for you,” I said. “I think the brand that Simon was referring to was a tattoo of a bell that he had recently inked onto his shoulder.”

  Gina smiled and looked really, really sad.

  “I’ll always wonder what he meant by our own secret family,” she said.

  I nodded, sympathetically.

  “And Tinker,” I said.

  Gina looked at me blankly.

  “The cat you met yesterday,” I said. “We found him in Simon’s room. Could he have been a gift for you? His name is Tinker. Along with Simon’s bell tattoo, the message is Tinkerbell. That might have been just the right kind of secret code for the two of you.”

  Gina’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “Poor Simon,” she said.

  “We have the cat in the car outside,” I said. I felt an immediate loss over the idea of handing over Tinker, but he wasn’t mine to keep. “I can get him for you.”

  Gina shook her head.

  “Simon didn’t know,” she said. “Why should he? It’s not the sort of thing that comes up much. The truth is, I’m allergic to cats.”

  “Ms. Ginelli,” said Andy. His voice had softened significantly since our meeting had begun. “You said he had three secrets. His brand, a family, and something about a gift wrapped in a gift. Given the answers to the first two riddles, do you have any idea what he could have meant by the third?”

  Gina shook her head. “No. I’m sorry I don’t.”

  “OK,” said Andy, opening the front door. I rose and followed him. “We’ll keep in touch. I don’t think you are in any danger, but I’ll swing by later to check in on you.”

  “Please do,” she said. “I was so scared last night. I didn’t really hang out with the revelers. I was packing.”

  My last image as we let ourselves out was of Gina pouring another glass of wine. Two steps down the path from her door, Andy stopped, his hand on my arm.

  “Thanks, again, for your help,” he said. “But promise me, no more sleuthing. This looks darker and darker. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

  “Here’s the deal,” I said. “You go to Bellamy and let him know what you’ve found so they can release Bill. Then I’ll sit back and you can do whatever you need to do.”

  That was mostly the truth, but I was still reeling from Gina’s description of my candle as a hideous medieval thing.

  “I can’t go to Bellamy yet,” said Andy. “Think about it. She told us some interesting information about their love life, but nothing changes the facts about Bill. Something’s missing.”

  We turned to head to Andy’s car when the door to Gina’s cottage flew open.

  “Wait,” she said. “I thought of something.”

  Chapter 24

  “Last month,” said Gina, running down the path toward us. “Simon asked me what my ring size is. Do you think that Simon was going to give me a ring? The tattoo was his sign of love, the cat was the family we could have. A ring could have been my symbol of our secret union. Not an engagement ring, but a sign nonetheless.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Maybe not,” said Andy.

  Gina hugged her arms around her body. “You’re right. Maybe, maybe not. It just felt like something Simon might do. He was a cool cat, you know. I fell hard, but I’m no dope. Simon clearly knew his way around women.”

  “Can I a
sk you an honest question?” I said. “It’s not my place to judge, but you could have any man you want. And yet you chose Simon, who got himself killed because he cheated at cards and was cruel to his family.”

  “It was the card game that lead to his death?” said Gina, shaking.

  I realized that she hadn’t been out of the house much. For all the chatter going around the island, Gina probably had not gotten any details about the murder outside of what I’d told her on our walk to her house, which wasn’t much. I hadn’t even mentioned that the men were playing cards.

  “Was it Simon’s idea to play?” Gina said, carefully.

  I nodded.

  “Is there something we should know about the card game?” said Andy.

  She touched a shaky hand to her neck. “Do you know if there was a stack of hundred-dollar bills by his side while he played?”

  We nodded, surprised, and her shoulders sank.

  “There’s a scene in my movie where someone cons men in a card game and he has a stack of hundreds by him to psych them out,” she said. “Simon wanted to try it, so I had some real-life data to go on. I told him not to, because he’d get in trouble, but he said he’d dole out all the money to the guys in the end, for no hard feelings. Everyone would be a winner, he said. He was doing it for me.”

  I didn’t want to tell Gina, because she was already in so much pain, but I had a feeling that Joe, Tony, and Bill had interpreted Simon’s laugh at the end of the game as purely malicious, not a cheerful one at the end of a good gag. After a late night, a few drinks, and other pressures bearing down on all of them, none of the men had taken his joke lightly. Joe and Tony had stormed out, while Bill had punched him. He’d never had a chance to tell them the truth, because not long after, he’d been killed.

  “I’d also be careful about believing anything his sister-in-law said about him,” Gina went on. “Consider the source.”

  She had a point. Perhaps there had been a very different side to Simon. One that supported the love of his life in her acting pursuits and who had decided to live beside her in spite of their limitations. His edginess around Mrs. Sterling might have boiled down to the fact that he simply didn’t like her.

  “We’ll keep all of this in mind,” said Andy.

  “OK,” she said. “And, thanks. For everything.”

  I felt really bad about thinking she was a murderer, and also for snooping through her house. She looked like a lonely woman who had a lot to handle as she walked back to her cottage and closed the door behind her. We headed to Andy’s patrol car, both of us sobered.

  “Hold on,” I said at the car door.

  I looked at Andy across the hood of his car.

  “What’s that brain of yours thinking?” he said.

  “Gina’s ring idea.”

  I hopped inside the car. Andy followed.

  “Gina knew her man. If she thought of a ring, there might be something to it. What about the red ribbon in Simon’s drawer?” I said, remembering the contents of the drawer.

  “I’m not even going to ask how you know about the red ribbon,” he said. “But why do you mention it?”

  “Remember, Gina said he wanted to give her a gift wrapped in a gift. Maybe Simon meant to slip a ring through it and tie it around Tinker’s neck,” I said. “Two gifts, one wrapped in another. Maybe he never had a chance to put the ring around Tinker’s neck.”

  “Why not? He liked the drama. He gave her a big speech and a riddle and then doesn’t follow through?” Tinker, who had been laying low in the back seat, popped up and put a paw on the back of my seat, as if he were one of the gang.

  “Don’t forget. There’s a very valuable ring at the Melville this weekend that’s a family heirloom. Simon wanted Gina to be family. Maybe Simon had his eye on it. Maybe he had a plan to take it from Jessica? Maybe he got cold feet and decided not to tie such a pricey item around this maniac’s neck. No offense, Tinker.” I gave Tinker a pat to confirm there were no hard feelings.

  My new theory got Andy’s attention. He rested his hands on his steering wheel. His radio began to crackle with some information about rowdy surfers on Tom Never’s beach and an overflow of tourists forming on Brant Point, which was the prime place to watch the regatta boats cross the finish line this afternoon. He lowered the volume, which I took as a personal victory of my sleuthing skills.

  “Jessica’s engagement ring?” he said.

  “That ring is worth a lot more than a couple thousand dollars swindled in a card game. I saw a note in Joe’s room for the value of the ring. It’s worth $200,000.” I raised a hand before he could ask about my visit to Joe’s room. “I was in his room fair-and-square. Wedding business,” I said, fudging the truth.

  “Sure you were,” said Andy. “But Jessica’s been wearing her ring every time I’ve seen her. How’d he think he was going to get his hands on it?”

  “Peter told me at the cookout that the elderly couple staying at the inn were in the jewelry business. Frank saw them talking to Simon in a friendly sort of way. Maybe Simon hired the couple to make a copy. One he somehow swapped for the real one,” I said.

  “And one of the Sterlings found out and killed him?”

  “It might be worse,” I said. The adrenaline was rushing through me by this point. Ideas were flying.

  “What’s worse than that?”

  “Frank also said he saw the jewelers talking to Joe first. Think about it. Joe’s planning to spend gobs of money on his new business. Chris and Liz said this afternoon how much it would cost. Where’s Joe getting all this money from?”

  “From the sale of a ring to Simon?” said Andy, starting his motor.

  “From the sale of Jessica’s ring,” I said.

  “Wow,” he said. “That year you were consumed with conspiracy theories about UFOs is paying off.”

  “Darn right. Think about it. Jessica could unwittingly be wearing a fake ring that the elderly couple made for Joe, so that he could subsequently sell the real one to Simon—”

  “—who had plans to give it to Gina.”

  “Perhaps he was going to blackmail Joe on top of buying the ring. That could be motive for murder.”

  “I can’t decide if you’re crazy or a genius, but too many things are lining up not to look into it. This doesn’t look good for Joe.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I knew I’d never liked that guy.

  We were driving down the lane by this point, and close to the turn that would lead us either back to town or toward the inn.

  “Stop the car,” I said.

  He stopped. I dialed Emily.

  “Em,” I said when she picked up. “Where are you?”

  “At the inn,” she said, “Hair and makeup have arrived. Bride and maid of honor are looking great.” I could tell she said that last part for the women’s benefit, not mine. “I saw the unity candles, up close and personal. You’ve outdone yourself. The chapel looks amazing. The purple hues for the other decorative candles are stunning.”

  “Thanks,” I said. Normally, I would have loved to talk more about my work, but there was no time.

  “Don’t kill me, but I also brought your red dress,” she said.

  She really hated my outfit.

  “How about Joe?” I asked.

  I didn’t want to outright tell her that Andy and I wanted to interrogate the wedding’s groom an hour before the ceremony.

  “He’s doing great,” she said, thankfully not catching on. “He’s in his room, changing. Can’t see the bride before the wedding, right?”

  I motioned to Andy to take a right toward the Melville. He gunned it.

  Chapter 25

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” I said to Emily as Andy sped down the road. “How are you?”

  “Between indigestion and nerves? A mess,” she confessed quietly into the phone so that the Sterlings could not hear. “It’s been quite a weekend. Listen, gotta go, but see you at the chapel.”

  I put my phone away, wo
rried about Emily. I really didn’t want to add to her nerves. At the cookout, she’d really looked as if she could use a day with her feet up.

  “Did you say you heard a sound coming from Simon’s room last night?” said Andy as we pulled into the inn’s driveway.

  “Holy cow. I did,” I said, remembering both the footsteps and Jessica’s knock on the door. Was she onto her fiancé? Were his absences beginning to cause her to suspect something was up? If so, Jessica might be in danger, too.

  “This is exactly why I’m afraid of you snooping around on your own,” said Andy. “You might have walked in on a murderer last night.”

  “I agree, that’s not comforting,” I said, grateful to Tinker, who put his head on my shoulder from his spot behind me. “On the other hand, maybe I stopped him from whatever he’s up to. And maybe I kept Jessica out of harm’s way, too. I had a good excuse for opening the door. I’m the help. Jessica would have walked in on something far more sinister.”

  “That level of loyalty falls outside of your job description,” Andy said as he parked in front of the Melville.

  Andy and I got out of the car. Tinker slipped out, too. As long as he didn’t make his way into the inn, I decided he’d be fine on his own.

  I followed Andy to the entrance of the inn. He passed right by Bellamy’s man without a word.

  “Wait,” I said as we reached the front of the inn. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in your uniform. How official do you want this visit to be? If we’re wrong, Emily will have our heads.”

  “I’m supposed to be at Brant Point right now,” said Andy. “I don’t have time for any craziness.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Take off your jacket. Make this visit low-key until you know you don’t have to. There are dozens of people in the lobby right now in wedding outfits.”

  Andy sighed and took off his jacket. He looked around for a place to put it, but settled on tying it around his waist. I stuck his hat into my bag.

 

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