by Gale Deitch
Ben chuckled and shook his head. “I find your naiveté quite charming, Trudie. And very misguided.”
I felt my face color again. “You’re just going to have to let the police do their job and find the murderer.” I stood. “Now I think this visit is over. Goodbye, Mr. Knight.”
He rose slowly from his chair and shook his head. “All right, Ms. Fine. I will grant your request and leave. But when your friend is arrested, give me a call and we’ll get to work.” He tossed his business card onto my desk, turned, and walked out the door.
I sank back into my chair, my mouth open. What just happened? I felt as if I were a character in one of Ben’s books. What impudence he had coming into my office and trying to involve me in this scheme of his. Did he think this was all a game?
I thought back to last night’s event and wondered, besides Ally’s argument with Ben, what would incriminate her as a murder suspect. Nothing. I shook my head to get rid of these thoughts, as if shaking off excess flour while breading chicken.
I picked up Ben’s card from my desk to read it. Ben Knight, Author. Below that were his phone number, email address, and website. I swiveled my chair to pitch it into the trash can, then changed my mind and dropped it into my purse.
Chapter Six
After an hour of attempting to focus on my work, I decided to make the afternoon more productive by delivering the invoice to Belinda Scott in person. I found her number on my phone and called.
“Belinda Scott here,” she said, answering on the first ring.
“Ms. Scott, it’s Trudie Fine. How are you today? Are you all right?”
“Oh, Trudie. How can anyone be all right after what happened last night?” Her voice was shrill. “We had to abandon the entire conference this weekend. Most of the attendees were members of Gwen’s Ben Knight Fan Club and were much too distressed about her murder. All the workshops and speakers; everything had to be cancelled. What a disaster.”
I’d forgotten that the conference was to take place all weekend. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know,” I said, not sure what I could do or even what I meant by that. But it seemed like the right thing to say.
“Thank you, dear,” she said. “I keep wondering what Miss Peacock would do in these circumstances. Would she close herself up in fear or would she buck up and try to find the murderer?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. I hadn’t read any of the Miss Peacock series and had no intention of doing so. “Anyway, the reason I called was that I’d like to bring over the final invoice for last night’s event.”
“Of course, you would, dear. You’d like to be paid for that outstanding meal. So many compliments last night about the food. Why don’t you come over and I’ll write you a check?” She gave me her home address, and I headed out the door.
Belinda Scott lived in a charming bungalow in Kensington. Her front door was painted a peacock blue, which didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me when she opened the door was that she wore her peacock brooch on a purple velour running suit, an outfit I’m sure was meant for lounging, not for jogging. I wondered whether she’d pinned the brooch on because she knew I was coming or if she automatically added it to every outfit.
“Trudie, welcome. Come in.” She swept her arm back to guide me into the house. “So good to see you, dear. Please, follow me into my office.”
Belinda Scott was a big woman. Almost as tall as Zach, who at six-foot two had me by a foot. Belinda was not so much overweight as broad-shouldered and big boned. I hesitated before following her. I couldn’t help thinking this was a woman strong enough to smash in someone’s face with a hammer. But why in the world would she want to ruin the conference she was chairing? I swallowed hard and willed myself forward.
Her office consisted of an oversized antique white desk and a full wall of matching shelves filled with books. In fact, the entire center section of shelves was populated with multiple copies of her Miss Peacock book series.
“Please, have a seat.” She pointed to one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Both were upholstered in swirls of purple and blue. Then she rounded the desk to her own chair, a behemoth with an intricate and colorful peacock painted on its high back.
“I hope you don’t mind my coming here today. I’m sure you’re devastated about what happened last night.”
She shook her head. “Poor Gwen. Such a horrific murder. I still can’t believe it.” She blew out a breath. “Well, life must go on and you need to be paid for your services.”
I pulled the invoice out of my purse and handed it to her. Belinda was not only the event chair, but also the treasurer of the Mystery Writers’ Association. She opened a drawer and removed the checkbook. As she lifted her pen, a metallic blue festooned with a peacock feather, I noted first that she was a lefty and secondly that she wore no wedding ring. Living with a police detective must be rubbing off on me. Or was this the result of reading Ben Knight’s books? I winced, thinking about his visit to my office that morning.
As Belinda filled out the check, I surveyed the room. Many rooms have names—the Green Room where celebrities wait before going onstage, the Oval Office in the White House, the Throne Room in a castle. This was definitely the Peacock Room. Peacock paintings on the walls, a peacock paper weight on the desk, a large peacock planter in the corner of the room that held an ornamental tree.
As I scanned the shelves, I noticed several framed photos of Belinda with various people, none I knew…until I spotted it. The picture showed a much younger Belinda grinning happily in the embrace of a man I recognized as Ben Knight.
The hair on my arms prickled as I slid my gaze back to Belinda. Something about her stature and demeanor, along with the fully coifed silver blonde hair, gave the impression of an older woman. But now that I scrutinized her more closely, I realized she probably was in her early fifties, not much older than Ben. Could she have been one of his many lovers? Glancing back at the photo, it seemed so.
“There you go,” Belinda said, causing me to jump. She held the check out for me to take.
“Paid in full and a very satisfied customer. We’ll be sure to contact you again for future events.”
“Thank you.” I slid the check into my purse. “You have a lovely office. It’s definitely you.”
She looked around and tittered. “Yes, it is. Definitely me.”
I stood, said goodbye, and left. I’d seen enough peacocks to last a lifetime.
Although the afternoon was still young, I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the office. Without Zach at my side, and worried about his whereabouts and his state of mind, I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. I needed something good to focus on today, so decided to pay a visit to Katie who, for the last couple of months of her pregnancy, had been confined to bed.
Katie had been a server at my good friend May’s restaurant, Maybelline’s, when the father of her baby, May’s brother Micah, was murdered. Because of the interracial relationship, Katie’s parents had disowned her, so May insisted on taking her in and caring for her during the pregnancy.
On a Saturday, I knew May would be at her restaurant and Katie would be alone and craving company. After rummaging through the planter for the door key, I called Katie from the front porch to let her know I was there.
“Hey.” Katie’s face brightened when I entered the bedroom. She sat propped on several pillows, her large belly mounded like a big scoop of vanilla ice cream under the white blanket. She looked like a little girl, her long red hair framing a freckled face. “I am so glad you dropped by. I mean, how much TV can a person watch?”
I sat down in a chair next to her bed. “Listen, you’ll be begging for alone time after that baby comes.”
She laughed. “You’re probably right.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Besides the boredom? I’m doing fine.” She smiled and put her hands on her stomach. “Little Michael keeps knocking on the door. He can’t wait to get out into this w
orld. I can’t wait for it either.”
“I know Will’s excited,” I said. “And nervous.” Daniel’s partner Will had met Katie at my parents’ house on Thanksgiving. An attraction sparked between them that day, and they’d been constant companions ever since.
She nodded. “I know. But he’s going to do great in the delivery room. He was amazing in the birthing classes. Had the breathing techniques down to a science. I don’t know what I would have done without his help all these months. He comes over almost every night.” She frowned. “Can’t tonight, though. Some kind of investigation.”
“Yeah. Daniel, too. A murder at my event last night. It was horrible.” I glanced at Katie and shook my head. “But you don’t need to hear the gory details, especially in your condition.”
“My condition? I’m pregnant, not an invalid. Tell me what happened, Trudie.”
“Well,” I said, doubtful it would be wise to upset Katie. “If you insist.” As I relayed my story, Katie’s eyes widened, a clear sky blue, framed with strawberry blonde lashes.
“Oh, my,” she said. “It must have been awful for you.”
I shuddered, visualizing Gwen’s head, crushed and bloodied, her face non-existent. “Yeah. It was pretty bad.”
“Hey, Trudie.” Katie’s voice took on an enthusiastic tone to change to a more positive subject. “Have you and Daniel made wedding plans yet?” I could tell she was trying to lift my spirits when here I had come over to do the same for her. Instead, I’d spent the last several minutes describing a brutal murder.
The thought of my wedding instantly cheered me. “No specific date pinned down yet. Sometime this summer. We’re trying to coordinate between my parents’ cruises and his father’s Elderhostel trips.”
“Don’t you have to find a place and a dress? All that takes time. And what about the catering?”
I laughed.
“Oh,” she said. “I forgot.”
“Catering is definitely taken care of. Zach will oversee that, and I’m sure May and Ally will help out, too. Being in this business, I have lots of contacts for a venue, and of course, Charmaine will help find me a dress.”
“Charmaine?”
“A friend of Daniel’s. She’s got an amazing dress shop downtown and knows exactly the right styles that work for me.”
“Have you thought about a color theme, flowers, bridesmaids’ dresses? All that stuff.” Katie leaned forward a little, as best she could with that huge belly.
“I’ve been planning this my whole life,” I said, grinning. “I know exactly what I want.”
“Tell me,” Katie said, her eyes wide.
I swallowed and shook my head. “No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s like revealing a wish. If I tell you, it won’t come true. I still worry that one day I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.”
Katie grabbed both my hands. “Trudie, look at me. This is real. You are engaged to a man who loves you more than anything. It is not a dream. Okay?” She raised her eyebrows and waited for my answer.
I nodded. “I know it’s real. But I never believed it would happen to me.” I squeezed her hands.
“Every little girl imagines her wedding day,” she said. “I know I did. A lace gown with a satin bow, peach and cream flowers, a four-layer wedding cake with peach rosettes.” She sighed, gazing into her future. “Maybe one day I’ll get all that. Of course, I never pictured having a baby first.”
“It sounds lovely, Katie.”
She turned to me. “And Daniel? What does he want?”
I laughed. “Daniel doesn’t care where, when or how. He’d be happy if it were only the two of us at City Hall. He just wants to get married.”
Katie leaned back against her pillows and sighed. “How romantic. He loves you so much. You are one lucky girl.”
“I sure am.”
Daniel wouldn’t be home until late, so I prepared dinner for myself, a broiled turkey burger, bunless and piled high with toppings: cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, and a fried egg on top. Since our engagement, and with a wedding not that far off, I’d been cutting back on sugar and carbs, resulting in a seven-pound weight loss so far. Daniel let me know he loved me just the way I was and chided me for my constant dieting.
My self-image had soared since I met him, but it was difficult to shed the pain from years of being teased and ostracized by schoolmates. Even as an adult, I’d been shunned by clerks in women’s clothing stores and gotten nasty comments from grocery store cashiers as they perused my junk food purchases. I thought I understood why people couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look beyond my size to see the person inside. Still, it hurt.
Somehow, I’d made it past those obstacles and took pride in myself as a successful and respected business owner with many good friends, loving parents, and a fiancé who meant the world to me. Life was good.
I frowned. Not so good for poor Gwendolyn Chong.
Cutting into my egg, I watched it ooze down and around the burger. As I took a bite, I thought about Ben Knight’s outlandish conclusion that Ally would be arrested for the murder and his audacious visit to my office for my help in solving the crime. Maybe he was using this murder as a story for his next book. There was a fine line between fantasy and reality, and Ben was definitely blurring that line.
After dinner, I relaxed on the sofa and turned on the TV to watch Say Yes to the Dress. Charmaine had offered to find a dress for my wedding, but maybe I should visit the famous bridal shop in New York featured on this show. So many gowns to choose from, and they were able to fit any body type. I could never believe how the brides’ mothers tended to have opposite views from their daughters about dress styles. Whose wedding was it anyway? Although others might say, “Who was paying for the wedding?” I knew my mother would never do that. She only wanted me to be happy. Wherever I decided to get my dress, I’d be sure to bring her along. She’d be thrilled and would love any dress I chose.
I stood in my underwear in a huge dressing room surrounded by dozens of bridal gowns. Like in a fun house, the three-way mirror distorted my body, making me shorter and wider. I wondered if any of these dresses would fit. As I examined them, one-by-one they turned from white to shades of blues and greens and purples.
No, I thought. I want a white gown. Why did I come to this shop? Where was the saleswoman to help me? Why didn’t I trust Charmaine to find me a dress?
The multi-colored dresses began to sway and slowly morphed into peacocks, their vibrant tail feathers spread wide. I looked frantically for an exit door, but the peacocks surrounded me and began to move closer and closer. One stretched out its beak and nudged me.
“No,” I screamed. “Get away.”
It grabbed my shoulder and shook me.
“Wake up, Trudie. You’re having a bad dream.”
My eyes sprang open and there was Daniel bending over me. “Trudie.” His voice sounded calm and soothing. “I’m here and you’re okay.”
“Daniel.” I shuddered and sighed my relief. “Thank God.”
“That was some dream,” he said, sitting next to me on the sofa. He put his arm around me and drew me to him, my head resting on his shoulder.
I peered up at him. “Tomorrow I’m calling Charmaine to help me find a wedding dress.”
He chortled. “You were having a nightmare about wedding dresses?”
I laughed. “Peacocks. What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty,” he said. “It’s been a long day. Lots of people to follow up with.”
“How’s the investigation going?” I asked.
He frowned.
“What’s wrong? Do you have a suspect?”
He shook his head and glanced away from me. “Can’t discuss it, but we’re getting close. Waiting for a few more lab results, DNA samples.”
The way he avoided my eyes, I knew this was going to be bad. My stomach roiled like a butter churn as I remembered Ben Knight’s prediction. “Daniel? Is there something you’re
not telling me that I should know?”
He pulled me toward him, kissed my forehead then gently lifted my chin, peering into my eyes, his brows knitted together. “As I said before, baby, I can’t talk about it. And we don’t have definitive answers yet. It may take a couple more days.”
“But you will tell me if there’s something I need to know, won’t you?” I searched Daniel’s face for answers but saw only concern in his eyes.
He pulled me against his chest and hugged me tightly. “Of course, I will.”
I had planned to tell him about Ben’s visit to my office that morning, but now, with the perfect opportunity in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to germinate the seed in his head about Ally as a possible suspect. During the past year, Daniel hadn’t prepared me for two other disturbing arrests. I understood that confidentiality was a necessary part of his job, but I didn’t want to go through that again.
All that ran through my mind now was Ben’s prediction.
Maybe Ally was going to be arrested.
Chapter Seven
Daniel had already left for work when I woke Sunday morning. Usually off on weekends, I knew that in Daniel’s profession it was important to keep the investigation and questioning going while it was hot. Of course, I would have preferred him home with me, but in the several months I’d been living with the detective, I had come to accept everything his job entailed.
Luckily, I’d had a sound, dreamless sleep with no peacock sightings. The heavenly aroma of fresh brewed coffee led me into the kitchen where Daniel had left me a chocolate croissant he’d picked up from the local bakery. My guy was definitely a keeper.
As I savored the buttery flakiness of the pastry, I checked my phone, hoping for an email, text, or voicemail from Zach. I wished I could do something to comfort him, to lessen the hurt Ally had caused him. Even though he’d asked me not to contact him, there was no harm in sending him a text message of support. So, I did.