by Mary Ellis
Harris pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘Any others would fall in the “none of your business” category.’
Eric cleared his throat to mask his chuckle.
‘We’re trying to solve a possible murder, nothing more.’
He sighed. ‘If I thought anything else would be helpful, I would tell you. As I said to Detective Buckley, I left her around three o’clock and went to work. Agnes was in a good mood and feeling fine. Nothing we did that day endangered her health.’
Kate decided not to mention snorkeling in the vicinity of speedboats with sharp propellers.
‘She was in such good spirits that she asked me to pop the cork on the second bottle before I left.’
‘Didn’t you find that strange since you were leaving?’ asked Eric, overstepping his quota by one.
‘Not really. I’m not much of a drinker. Two glasses is my limit, but sometimes Agnes enjoyed a third glass and called a taxi to get home. She wouldn’t climb behind the wheel.’
‘Do you think she might have been expecting another guest?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe Lainey stopped by. Those two preferred the Arrivederci for their shouting matches instead of arguing in front of servants.’
Kate tried a long-shot. ‘Any idea what their favorite point of contention was?’
‘Sure, Agnes hated Lainey’s boyfriend … excuse me – fiancé. She would do anything to keep that marriage from taking place.’
As she rose to her feet, Kate exchanged a look with Eric. ‘Thank you, Mr Harris, for your candor. If you can think of anything else, please call me.’ She laid her business card on the glass coffee table while Eric shook hands.
‘What was your impression?’ she asked him in the elevator.
‘I liked the guy. Sure didn’t seem like a heartless killer to me. Someday he’ll write a kept-man’s how-to guide and make a million bucks.’
‘I’ll buy you a copy. In the meantime, I intend to verify every word he said, especially the part about not inheriting a dime from Agnes. I wonder if the will has been filed in Probate Court yet.’
‘Is that the only thing that piqued your interest upstairs?’ he asked. ‘Don’t forget, I’m your partner now.’
‘I’d also like to know how much alcohol was in Mrs Westin’s blood.’ Kate ticked off on her fingers. ‘And if she had another guest after Harris on the Arrivederci. And why Lainey hadn’t mentioned a fiancé when Beth and I talked to her. I never knew an engaged woman who didn’t drop that tidbit into conversation every chance she got.’
Eric rubbed his palms together as they climbed in with Kate behind the wheel. ‘I’m going to love my new job.’
Kate cocked her head to one side. ‘Your new job, Mr Manfredi, is sous chef at Henri’s out at the seashore. We should get back to town so you can go to work on time.’
‘Oh, yeah. I almost forget. Too bad, I was really starting to enjoy myself.’
‘All right,’ she said, not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm. ‘I’ll call Detective Buckley so you can listen, but no butting into my conversation.’
‘You have my word.’ Eric placed his hand over his heart.
Eric had his own reasons for eavesdropping on Kate’s phone conversation with the detective in charge of Mrs Westin’s death. He had truly enjoyed himself during the interview of Mark Harris today. Most likely Kate assumed he wanted to keep her in his sights, protect her from Liam’s former cronies, which of course he did. But ever since she’d risked her life in Charleston to keep his father out of prison, he’d developed a passion for crime-solving.
Wasn’t that why he’d gone to law school – to bring potential felons to justice? But during his internship in the prosecutor’s office, Eric had learned justice wasn’t dispensed fairly in this world. Those with deep pockets could handpick juries sympathetic to their plight, while the poor were stuck with overworked public defenders who could barely pay their rent, let alone hire a professional jury consultant. By the time Eric graduated, he’d lost all desire to take the Bar exam. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but it wasn’t prosecuting the down-and-out while fat-cat criminals received immunity for testifying against bigger fish.
Opening a restaurant had been his grandfather’s dream, and Ernesto Manfredi’s primary reason for immigrating to the United States. The small, humble bistro his nonno started was now a four-star restaurant in a sophisticated city known for its adventurous, upscale cuisine. His parents no longer lived in the upstairs apartment like his grandparents had. They owned a mini-mansion in the suburbs, while Eric’s condo was fully paid for, thanks to Bella Trattoria.
Although his dad loved inventing new dishes and preparing every sauce from scratch, cooking had never been Eric’s passion. He’d joined the family business after law school because he had nothing else to do, and his sister needed help with the operation’s practical side. Although his decision to follow Kate to Pensacola had nothing to do with evaluating possible second locations for Bella, Eric might have found the career he’d been looking for.
‘You gonna make that call, or not?’ he asked, halfway back to the hotel.
At the next red light, Kate punched in the number for the police department and asked for homicide. ‘Remember, you listen and learn while I talk to Buckley, no interrupting. Save your questions for when I’m off the phone.’
‘Yes, Miss Weller,’ chimed Eric, mimicking a schoolboy.
‘Detective Buckley?’ she asked when someone picked up the other end. ‘Kate Weller, the investigator working for Lainey Westin. I have you on speaker. Eric Manfredi is here, serving as my bodyguard for the day.’
‘A bodyguard?’ Buckley hooted. ‘Who have you irritated to the point of bodily harm?’
‘The list could be lengthy, sir, but specifics aren’t pertinent to my professional case. I’m curious if the ME finished his autopsy yet.’
‘He has, Miss Weller. But no, you may not have a copy of his report.’
‘Could you at least tell me if he’s ruled out both natural and accidental causes?’
‘Let’s just say I’ve been officially assigned to the Westin case.’
‘What about the DNA on the wine glasses from the yacht? Was the tumbler I provided any help?’
‘Only so far as to rule out the new Mrs Westin as one of Agnes’s luncheon guests. It wasn’t a match.’
Kate met his gaze and frowned. ‘According to Mark Harris, he spent the afternoon alone with Agnes.’
‘Yes, that’s what he told me too. Have you been following me like a bloodhound? The state of Florida considers stalking a serious crime.’
‘Absolutely not. Captain Holcomb of the Arrivederci provided the name of Mr Harris. I was simply doing my job, sir.’
‘See that you don’t overstep the line. Turns out the victim’s DNA was on both wine glasses. The boyfriend, Mark Harris, voluntarily provided DNA during questioning. It matched the DNA on one of the water glasses.’
‘Only the water, not the wine? Harris told me he drank two glasses of Riesling that afternoon.’
‘Gee, PI, I dunno. Maybe Harris left some in the glass and Mrs Westin didn’t want it to go to waste. Perhaps she wiped the rim before finishing it off. Women can be so odd at times.’
Eric burst out laughing, while Kate scowled.
‘Were you aware, Detective, that Harris didn’t eat any of the side dish? He’s allergic to nuts, and the broccoli salad contained walnuts. So the poison could have been in there.’
‘Hold on. Nobody said anything about poison, Miss Weller.’
‘True, but if it wasn’t a natural death from stroke or heart attack, no head trauma from a fall, and there were no gunshot or knife wounds, what else could it be?’ This time Kate winked at him.
‘She might have been bitten by a rare Jamaican yellow blowfly, instantly fatal, while the toxin leaves virtually no residue in the blood.’
‘Are you serious?’ she asked. ‘Does such an insect even exist?’
‘Do your job, Miss Weller.’
‘Did the ME’s report include a full toxicology screen?’
‘It did, which you may not have a copy of. Is there anything else, because I really need to get back to work?’
Kate ignored Buckley’s question. ‘I assume you checked with marina security, which keeps video on the cars entering and leaving the yacht club. Could you at least tell me if Mrs Westin had a visitor after Mark Harris left for work? Harris thought maybe Lainey had stopped by.’
‘Hmm, let me think about it … Nope, can’t tell you that either,’ Buckley said after a few moments. ‘But a clever girl like you could charm her way into seeing that video. The security guard let me see the tape without a court order. So much for the privacy of the rich and infamous. Gotta go, Miss Weller. Remember what I told you about not overstepping.’ Buckley laughed and hung up.
Kate dropped her phone in her purse. ‘Well, he was less than helpful.’
‘But now you have me,’ said Eric. ‘From my cursory research of the Calliphoridae species, I found none called the Jamaican yellow blowfly, rare or otherwise. However, since blowflies inhabit most continents and islands, one would assume they live on Jamaica. And because blowflies thrive on rotting flesh, they definitely could transmit dangerous pathogens to humans or livestock. But I found none so toxic that one bite could kill a woman. In other words, Buckley was pulling your leg.’ He slipped his phone into his pocket.
‘Thank you, Eric.’
‘You’re welcome. And may I say you handled yourself beautifully!’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘How so? I failed to find out the alcohol content of Mrs Westin’s blood, or anything else from the tox screen. Buckley neither confirmed nor denied poison as the cause of death.’
‘I thought your conclusion was a good one.’ Eric patted her shoulder.
‘Baseless assumptions can lead a PI off-track, and that’s what my conclusion was. Plus we still don’t know whether Agnes had any other guests that afternoon.’
‘Think about what you did learn.’ With goose bumps forming on his arms, Eric rolled down the window.
‘And what would that be?’ Kate turned up the AC.
‘Although he didn’t say so, it didn’t sound like Buckley considered Harris a suspect. That confirmed your own conclusion. Now, can we compromise with the AC?’ Eric rolled up the window.
Kate switched the control to low. ‘Lack of motive goes a long way. Harris had no reason to kill Mrs Westin.’
‘And Buckley steered you toward the marina security guard.’
She smiled. ‘That’s true, Manfredi. Not bad for your first day, but it’s time for you to go to your real job.’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ he said. ‘Don’t cross the Pensacola Bay Bridge.’
Kate pulled off the road. ‘What are you up to?’
‘I know you’ll head to the yacht club to watch the video as soon as you get your car. Then you’ll probably want the tumbler back from Buckley so you can sneak it back to Kim Westin’s patio. So why not drop me off at Henri’s? I only have to work four hours tonight. You can pick me up later and we can have supper together. Think of all the time and gas you’ll save.’
Kate thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘That makes sense, but we won’t be dining at Henri’s. They’re too expensive.’
‘We can eat anywhere you like.’
She watched her rearview mirror for a chance to turn around. ‘Just don’t get the notion you and I are joined at the hip. I’m capable of taking care of myself.’
‘I don’t doubt it for a minute,’ he said.
But actually, Eric doubted it plenty. Although she should be fairly safe at police headquarters and while scaling the privacy wall at the Westins’, he didn’t like the idea of Kate returning to the marina alone – a place she’d already been and might have been followed. After Kate dropped him off at Henri’s service entrance, the next four hours passed interminably slowly. The owner and head chef was a nice enough guy and the staff reasonably pleasant, but his duties as the second-in-command allowed too much time for him to worry about Kate.
Although rather pricey for a beach community, Henri’s menu was a mixed bag of Italian, French, American, and what he called bar food. Most of the seafood was served fried, instead of grilled or blackened as he preferred. However, since he was here for a legitimate reason to remain close to Kate, he would work hard with his eyes and ears open and keep any criticism to himself.
When Kate picked him up four hours later, she was grinning from ear to ear. ‘How did your first day go?’ she asked.
‘Well, the head chef yelled at me only once and nobody sent back any of the food I made.’ Eric held up his hand for a high-five.
‘Way to go.’ Kate slapped his palm before peeling out of Henri’s parking lot. ‘Did the owner know of any restaurants for sale?’
‘I didn’t ask, not on my first day. I was being trained on their style of food prep, so I kept quiet on my true motives. What did you find out?’
‘My lips are zipped until I’m sitting with a cold beer in front of me.’
‘In that case there’s a pizza shop that serves great antipasto quarter-mile on the right.’
Kate slowed down as they turned into the crowded lot, but refused to talk until the waitress delivered two cold beers. ‘Ah, that’s better,’ she said after the first swallow. ‘The security guard at the marina was just as pliable as Buckley described. It only took five minutes of sweet-talk, plus a double mocha latte to view the video for the day Mrs Westin died.’
‘Only five minutes? You little minx.’ Although Eric definitely preferred wine, he sipped his beer to be sociable.
‘It was mainly the latte. That guard might not be big on privacy, but he knew everyone who passed through his gate. If he didn’t recognize an owner or frequent guest, he jotted down names, license numbers, and who they were visiting. He knew exactly when Mark Harris left and he was certain no one else visited the Arrivederci until Captain Holcomb showed up late that evening.’
‘Everything points to the man without a motive. Harris was alone on the boat, with access to food and drink, and plenty of time to slip poison into the broccoli.’ Eric picked up his fork the moment the waitress delivered their salads.
‘Everyone thinks broccoli is supposed to be so healthy.’ Kate took another gulp of beer. ‘But I can’t see Harris as a murderer. He had too much to lose and nothing to gain. Unless he was lying about Agnes’s will.’
‘We’ll need to see a copy of that will. How did it go at the police station?’
Kate waved a forkful of romaine at him. ‘That stinker, Buckley, left the tumbler in a brown bag at the front desk. He knew I’d pester him to look at the autopsy face-to-face.’
‘Hiding from women is always easier than saying no.’
‘Sounds like something you learned from Mark Harris. Tomorrow I’ll visit Lainey again. I want to know more about her mystery fiancé, and whether or not she’s Agnes’s sole beneficiary.’
Eric shook his head. ‘No, we’ll pay a social call to Lainey together.’
Kate lifted one eyebrow. ‘What about your job?’
‘For the next week I only work four hours during the dinner rush.’
‘Don’t you need to scout properties for sale? Or was that just a ruse right from the beginning?’
‘I’ll look online in the morning. The internet saves plenty of legwork. Besides, you promised Beth you’d let me babysit.’
‘Fine,’ she said, ‘but Lainey might wonder why I have so many partners.’
‘Tell her Beth was fired because she annoyed too many clients, something I don’t ever intend to do. Who wouldn’t believe that?’ Eric leaned back as the waitress placed a pizza in the center of the table.
‘I’m the one you don’t want to annoy, Manfredi.’
Kate had tried to sound bossy, but Eric had seen a look of relief when he insisted on coming with her. And that suited hi
m just fine.
NINE
The hotel room seemed oddly empty the next morning. Without her roommate, Kate had the bathroom to herself, full control of the remote, and wouldn’t have to worry about someone eating the ice cream, then replacing an empty container. Just the same, Kate missed Beth. But Beth could be reckless, which Michael didn’t need this close to the wedding.
Eric would work out just fine as a bodyguard – a fact that both pleased and scared her. With so uncertain a future, she didn’t need to get emotionally wound up in a man.
After two cups of coffee and a quick shower, Kate punched in a familiar number. ‘Good morning, Eric. I hope I didn’t wake you.’
‘Are you kidding? I’m already down at the breakfast bar. Wow, this is a veritable banquet.’
‘Generous praise, since you’re a gourmet chef. The hotel usually serves scrambled eggs covered in melted cheddar, fried potatoes, and white toast.’
‘Something wrong with that, Weller?’
‘Not a thing. I’ll be right there.’ On her way down, she punched in Lainey Westin’s number.
The wealthy heiress picked up on the first ring. ‘Hello, Miss Weller.’ She had apparently programmed Kate’s number into caller-ID. ‘I wondered when I’d get some kind of case update.’
Although Kate sent the boss, Nate Price, regular updates, keeping her client informed hadn’t occurred to her. ‘I would love to do exactly that. May I come by your house this morning?’
‘I’m on my way out the door for Pilates, then an appointment with my financial adviser. Give me the short and sweet over the phone.’ Lainey sounded like she was eating while talking.
Kate organized a concise answer in her mind. ‘Let’s see: Since you weren’t on the yacht that day and didn’t see your mother that morning, I don’t think the police still consider you a suspect. For the same reasons, they have ruled out your father and stepmom as well.’
The sound of munching ceased. ‘What did you say?’
‘Your father and stepmom,’ Kate repeated the words innocently.
‘Kim Westin is my father’s second wife – nothing more, nothing less. Do we understand each other, Miss Weller?’