Death by Espresso

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Death by Espresso Page 23

by Alex Erickson


  “Cathy was found with a fake necklace on her,” I went on. “A forgery. Some believe the real one is still out there somewhere. Others believe the necklace was always a fake. Who’s correct?” I paused a heartbeat, before. “Honestly? It doesn’t matter, because if someone was trying to steal it, then all they needed to do was think it was real.”

  “It was,” Gina said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at me.

  Jacques snorted from across the table, causing her to swivel her glare his way.

  “What if Cathy tried to steal it, like she supposedly stole from the Herrons?” I asked. “What if someone caught her in the act?” I looked right at Frederick.

  His eyes widened. “She wouldn’t have done such a thing. I wouldn’t have done such a thing!”

  “We were out getting dinner,” Gina added. “There’s no way either of us could have done it.”

  “They were,” Paul said from behind me. “We finally got confirmation of that earlier today. A camera from across the street picked them up heading into the restaurant at the time of the murder.”

  A part of me breathed a sigh of relief. For as confident as I was feeling about who I thought had killed Cathy, there was that niggling concern in the back of my mind that the Pattersons had had something to do with it.

  “I never thought you did,” I said, not wanting to voice my concern, lest they hate me forever. “Out of everyone here, you two were the only ones who actually liked Cathy. Even if you did catch her stealing from you, you probably wouldn’t have done much more than scold her for it.”

  Gina looked offended by that, but said nothing.

  “Vicki and Mason are clearly innocent,” I said, hoping to move on from them quickly, but it wasn’t to be.

  “Why do you say that?” Jacques asked. “Wasn’t Mason detained earlier? Hard to believe the police wouldn’t have a reason for that.”

  “He was,” I admitted. “And he was cleared of any wrongdoing. Whoever called in the tip made a mistake. Mason has a nosy neighbor who could place him at his house when the murder took place. The neighbor was also able to confirm what time Mason and Vicki left to come here. That means they both have solid alibis. That’s more than I can say for some of you.” My eyes scoured the table, hoping someone would show some kind of reaction, something I could latch on to.

  But other than Gina’s glare, and a few confused looks, I still got nothing from them.

  Raymond heaved a heavy sigh. “Can we hurry this along? I don’t want to spend my entire night sitting around, speculating on something that can’t be proven one way or the other.”

  “Ah, Raymond and Regina,” I said, turning on them. “What about the two of you? You want Mason to marry Heidi.” I put a hand on Heidi’s shoulder and squeezed. She was tense, but leaned into the gesture. The poor girl had gone through so much in her life already; she didn’t need this. “How could he do that if he was marrying Vicki?”

  “If you are accusing me of killing that woman, I’m going to sue you so hard, your grandchildren will be paying for it,” Regina said.

  “I’m not,” I said. “You could have used Cathy’s death to try to break Vicki and Mason up, but I don’t think either of you would go as far as killing someone to accomplish your goals. And I’m sure you both have solid alibis.” I glanced at Paul, who nodded. “Instead of killing anyone, you decided to use this unfortunate situation to your advantage. You should both be ashamed.”

  Much to my amazement, both Raymond and Regina lowered their eyes. Had I actually hit a nerve?

  My gaze then moved on to the three people sitting together across the table. Lyric was frowning down at the table, looking as guilty as anyone could. Jacques was sitting back, arm flung casually across the back of Lyric’s chair, calm as could be. Vince was much the same as when I’d last seen him. He looked haggard, and in serious need of a drink.

  “Lyric Granderson is at the center of our murder,” I said, causing her head to jerk up.

  “I had nothing to do with her death, if that is what you are implying,” she said. “In fact, I won’t sit here for it.” She started to rise.

  “Please take a seat, Ms. Granderson,” Paul said, stepping forward. “Let’s hear her out.” He turned to me. “She wasn’t the one who called in the tip. That wasn’t her voice.”

  “No, she wasn’t,” I admitted. “But she did think the necklace Gina was giving to Vicki belonged to her by right. Everyone here knew it.”

  “It was given to me,” Gina said, stabbing the table with her index finger hard enough it had to hurt. “I don’t care what she believes.”

  “Get over yourself, you hag,” Lyric spat, then turned her anger on me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but I killed no one. I was in my room at the time of her death. Ask anyone.”

  I glanced at Paul, who nodded to confirm her story, as expected.

  I moved on. “While you are, in some ways, responsible for Cathy’s death, I don’t think you were the one who actually did it.” I turned my attention to the two men sitting beside her. “But one of you did.”

  “This is absurd,” Frederick said, standing.

  “Sit down, Mr. Patterson,” Paul said, voice harsher than when he’d told Lyric to do the same. I needed to hurry this along. “No one is leaving until we get this sorted out.”

  Frederick dropped as if he’d been shot.

  “Jacques, you are interested in Lyric, are you not?” I asked.

  He glanced at her, and shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s not bad.”

  “Oh, please,” Lyric said. “You come panting after me like a dog in heat every time we’re in the same zip code together.”

  Jacques snorted. “You wish. I could have my choice of any woman I wanted. She knows.” He grinned at me. “Right, Kris?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, truly seeing him for the slime he was. The man had no scruples, cared about no one but himself. He might be interested in Lyric, but I doubted he cared about much more than how she would look on his arm, personality be damned. The guy was a pig.

  I turned my attention away from him, both in disgust, and because of the man next to him.

  “And you, Vince, you are just as infatuated with her as Jacques.”

  He gave me a strained smile, but unlike the better-looking man beside him, he didn’t try to deny it.

  “You both knew what Lyric wanted. She might have come to Pine Hills in the hopes of landing a movie role, but that’s not truly what she desired. Gina’s necklace—that’s what she wanted, and both of you knew that.”

  “What are you saying?” Gina asked.

  “I’m saying that both men want her. Both have tried, in their own way, to gain her affections. Vince stalked her, showed up where she was staying, all in an attempt to find the right time to approach her.”

  He winced when Lyric looked at him, eyes wide and accusatory.

  “And Jacques convinced her to sleep with him, claiming it might help earn her a role in the movie he was going to be in, isn’t that right?”

  Lyric’s face turned an alarming shade of red, while Jacques simply shrugged off the comment with, “It happens.”

  “I don’t see how any of this leads to Cathy’s murder,” Frederick said.

  “It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is,” Gina added.

  “I think I know where you’re going with this, Buttercup,” Dad said. I was thankful for his support because, quite frankly, I was worried I was wrong.

  “Both of you wanted to win her over,” I said. “Both of you failed.” I paused dramatically, meeting everyone’s eyes before saying, “So, you came after the necklace.”

  Gina’s hand crept to her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the two men whom she thought of as her friends. They might have been, but not so much that one of them wouldn’t have stolen from her without batting an eye. For the first time, I thought, she was realizing how shallow many of her relationships really were.

  “I couldn’t figure out whi
ch one of you did it for the longest time. You both care about her, you both had opportunity. Unfortunately, Cathy had the necklace on her and she ended up dead, which put a serious crimp in your plan. You might have gotten away with the murder because, quite frankly, the police had nothing to go on.”

  Paul cleared his throat and gave me a disapproving look when I glanced back at him. I held up a finger, telling him to wait and hear me out.

  “You could have gone home, put it all behind you, and lived out your life without worry that you’d be caught,” I went on. “But then, instead of just letting things play out as they would, you made a mistake.” Another dramatic pause. “You called in a tip.”

  “I thought it was a woman who called it in?” Vicki said.

  “It sounded like a woman,” I said. “And if Jules hadn’t brought over a movie for me to watch, I might have continued to believe it was a woman. But it wasn’t, was it?”

  No one had anything to say to that.

  “It was in the credits,” I said. “A name not many people here would recognize. Not all of you use your real name, or at least, not in all your roles, right, Jason?”

  Jacques’s eyes widened. “I . . .” He glanced around the table. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I wondered why you didn’t want to give me your real name when we talked about it before. It seemed strange, but I guess Jason Kennedy isn’t nearly as famous as Jacques Kenway.” Not that Jacques was winning any awards with his acting.

  “You’re grasping,” he said. “I don’t do voices.”

  “No, you don’t.” My eyes slid sideways. “But you do, right, Toni?”

  There was a moment of silence as all eyes turned toward Vince.

  When he didn’t speak, I went on. “It was a short little clip, maybe five seconds long, but it was more than enough for me to figure out it was you.”

  “His name . . .” Dad said.

  “He changed it,” I said. “Or at least, he used a different name back then. Was it because of the voices? Didn’t you want anyone to realize the woman’s voice was really that of a man? Toni could be either, couldn’t it?”

  He looked as if he might deny it before his shoulders slumped. “Okay, fine,” he said. “I called in the tip. I wanted to go home and thought if the police arrested Mason, the rest of us could leave.” He looked up, met my eye. “But I did not kill Cathy Carr.”

  “Didn’t you?” I asked. “I might have believed you, if it wasn’t for the fact I kept seeing your car everywhere. I even saw it that night, before I found the body. I didn’t put it together until now, but when I got here, I saw a silver Prius in the driveway. I thought it was Cathy’s car, but she didn’t have one, did she?”

  “She rode with us,” Frederick said, eyes never leaving Vince. “How could you?”

  Vince rose, backed away from the table. “You have no proof of anything, just speculation.”

  “Don’t I?” I asked. “Do you think you managed to go unnoticed in this town?” At this point, I was winging it. I had no idea if anyone had actually seen Vince around town, or even on the night of the murder, but he didn’t know that. “If I saw your car that night, don’t you think someone else might have? All it takes is one person.”

  “I’d take Krissy’s word,” Paul said, stepping forward, hand going to the butt of his gun.

  Vince took another step back. So often, when I accused a killer, they made a run for it. And since Vince was an actor, I figured he’d be all for the dramatic escape.

  He looked to Lyric then, eyes pleading with her. “I did it for you,” he said at a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt her—she just . . .” He swallowed with some difficulty. “She got in the way.”

  “Vince Conner, you have the right to remain silent,” Paul said, advancing.

  I braced for the inevitable escape attempt, but Vince simply raised his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  And then, he broke down into tears.

  Paul walked across the room, took him into custody, and then led him from the room while everyone else looked on in shock.

  And just like that, the drama was over.

  27

  “Maybe we should wait, do it another time.”

  Vicki was standing in front of a mirror, looking at herself. She looked gorgeous in her wedding dress, which was to be expected. Trouble sat next to her in a box on the floor, put there for him, glaring as much as a cat could glare. He had a pillow on the back of his neck, held in place by a white ribbon. On top were the wedding rings. It had been a nightmare getting him to sit still long enough to get it attached, but I’d managed, though I had the scratches to show for it. Now, all we had to do was convince him to walk down the aisle using treats. It had worked in rehearsal, but I doubted it would be so easy with guests looking on.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said.

  “But after everything that’s happened, don’t you think it’s insensitive to get married?”

  “Do you love Mason?” I asked.

  “I do.”

  “Do you want to marry him?”

  “I do.”

  “Then do it!”

  She smiled. “You’re right.” She sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff. “I’m just so nervous. What if something else happens? I don’t think I could handle it.”

  “I won’t let anything get in the way of your wedding,” I promised her.

  Vicki turned away from the mirror and wrapped me in a hug. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Of course.”

  We parted. “Help me with this.” She picked up the necklace Gina had given her. Apparently, sometime after Vince had been taken away, Vicki had given in and agreed to wear it. Paul had brought it to her personally, amusingly wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper.

  Vicki turned so I could clasp the necklace around her neck. When she turned back to me, she looked nervous again. “Do you think it’ll be okay?”

  “Who cares that it’s not real?” I said. “It looks real enough. And it’s the thought that counts, right?”

  There’d never been a “real” necklace, just the fake. All the fuss had been over a piece of well-made costume jewelry. Gina had just about died of embarrassment, but that was nothing compared to how Vince must have felt. If just one person would have had the thing appraised, or even asked someone who would know, then maybe this entire mess could have been avoided.

  “I’d better check on everyone,” I said, stepping back. My eyes kept wanting to tear up, I was so happy, and standing in Vicki’s presence only made it worse.

  “See you soon,” she said.

  “Count on it.”

  I left Vicki to finish getting ready, and decided to poke my head into the church to see who all had made it. Most everyone was there, including the uninvited guests. Lyric and Jacques were sitting in the same pew as the Herrons. Sage and Trey were between them. It didn’t look as if the drama had drawn them together, but at least they were sticking close to one another. I had a feeling that once they were back in California, none of them would be calling on the others any time soon.

  There were other faces I knew around the room as well. Rita was here with Andi and Georgina. Lena and Jeff sat next to one another, and were laughing at some shared joke. Regina and Raymond actually looked happy as they sat up front, Heidi next to them, smiling herself. I supposed they couldn’t be angry and gloomy all the time. Even Robert and Trisha had scored invites, much to my amazement.

  My gaze continued around the room, noting Jules and Lance, a few actors I knew from the currently closed community theater.

  But of Paul Dalton, I saw not a hair.

  “You okay, Buttercup?”

  I turned to find Dad standing with his arm around Laura. He looked a little stiff, like he was still afraid I’d disapprove, but at least this time he didn’t pull his arm away. I definitely approved of that.

  “Nervous,” I said. “I don’t like the idea of standing up there.” I nodded toward the front of the c
hurch.

  “You’ll be fine,” Dad said. “All eyes will be on Vicki. You won’t be the center of attention this time.”

  “I hope so,” I said, causing them both to laugh.

  A door opened behind them somewhere, then closed, causing Dad to glance back.

  “We’d better take our seats,” he said, an odd smile on his face.

  “You’ll do fine,” Laura added, touching my arm briefly before allowing herself to be led away.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I really hoped so, but was starting to doubt it.

  They headed down the aisle together, and I wondered what it would be like seeing that in the future. There was no doubt in my mind that was where Dad and Laura were heading. They were perfect together. And sure, sometimes things came up—little differences, or a need to stay single—that broke up relationships. But looking at the two of them, I doubted they’d be unmarried for long, and that was a good thing in my book.

  Of course, thinking of marriage made me think of Will. While I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, it did make me miss him terribly. I regretted telling him to go to Arizona before the wedding. One last day together would have made me feel a whole lot better.

  “Krissy.”

  I sucked in a breath and turned to find not Will Foster, but Paul Dalton standing there, dressed to kill in a dark blue suit and tie.

  “Paul,” I squeaked, feeling suddenly self-conscious in my dress. I immediately started to smooth out the fabric, though it really didn’t need it.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “Thanks.” I couldn’t meet his eye. “Vicki decided not to embarrass me with an ugly bridesmaid’s dress.”

  He laughed. “I bet you’re happy about that.”

  “I am.” I felt the need to hide my feet, but had nowhere to put them. I should have worn heels, but was afraid I’d end up flat on my face, so I’d worn white sandals instead. Suddenly, they didn’t feel appropriate anymore. “Did you come alone?” My gaze traveled past him, but no one was back there.

  “I did,” he said. “Things, uh, didn’t work out between Shannon and me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”

 

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