by Judith Mehl
Kat could envision both scenarios. There were discrepancies in each. “How does Agatha Hartman fit in, and the break-in at the herb shop?”
“Those are a few of the many thing we are investigating. We’ve pretty much sealed up Mrs. Kinney’s home. Those running the herb farm need nothing from the house itself for now. Many questions remain.”
He looked up and waved for the bill. Kat demurred. “I invited you, remember?”
“Right. And you will still owe me until you get me back in Fanny’s graces. I could lose my job over telling you all this.”
“Wait a minute. What you don’t seem to realize is that we are just speculating here. I know all the information you’ve imparted so far. I don’t think there’s anything in the manual over losing one’s job over speculating per se.”
Kat saw the release of his jaw muscles as they formed into a smile. He had enough to worry about without adding a suspension. And they continued to trade information, twisting it around to see it from other directions. Kat decided to add another piece to the table.
“Everything we have on the two deaths, including the notes and their meanings, and the warnings in the bouquets, doesn’t seem to match with their deaths. Rosalin’s death doesn’t match her note or her bouquet.”
She pulled out the copy. “Study it. Doesn’t it sound more like a warning than a death threat?”
The note to Rosalin read:
You inserted yourself and gained what was mine. Now it is time to leave before the summer heat wilts your resolve. Quick. Sun can be deadly.
After looking at the note he said, “You mean, like, get out while the getting’s good?”
“Yes. Whereas Margaret’s note signifies an ending.”
He frowned at that addition to the puzzle. “When you put it that way, it gets even more perturbing.”
“Have the police considered two different killers, maybe for two different reasons?”
“Of course we have. We always do in multiple murders. There just seems to be a lot of evidence that ties them together. Well, maybe we should say, information. We have very little evidence to date.”
Kat shoved the note back into her bag. “I realize since the handwriting shows a possible fluctuation in personality traits that can be dangerous and possibly violent, Margaret’s killer could still have shoved Rosalin down the stairs. Like in a fit of anger following an argument. There are many things that lead away from that. The boy who delivered the bouquet. Why wouldn’t the killer deliver it himself if he meant to kill her on the spot?”
Fulton rose and walked to the cash register. As they left the restaurant he continued the conversation. “He could have been toying with her by sending the flowers and planned to return later.”
“True, but I really feel strongly against that.”
“Well, usually that’s not enough to arrest someone—whoever that might be.”
Kat’s shoulders slumped, so much so that she almost lost her bag as it slid down her arm. “I know. I know. I’m right, anyway. Even the flowers don’t fit with death. I mean, phlox? And Celandine poppies. They’re the harbingers of summer—a bold yellow found in the fields to announce the coming of sunshine days.”
Fulton smiled as they stood next to her car. “Wow! They speak to you, do they?”
“Yes, but it’s a universal language. The person who assembled that bouquet knew their meanings. Too much thought went into each bouquet. Margaret’s had a lethal flower as the centerpiece. One that we think killed her.”
Fulton reminded her to keep that information to herself, but added, “It looks like she did ingest it, while also eating a wide range of greens. Still, no proof that she ate it unknowingly. That’s also between you and me.”
Kat nodded, and continued with her analysis point. “Rosalin’s flowers carried no threat. The note was only a warning.”
“I’m still not sure why all this means there’s a second killer out there.”
“Trust me. The note writer is someone vindictive from the past. Concentrate there.” She opened the door and settled in sideways. Mostly, she couldn’t wait to drop the heavy bag on the passenger seat. It had been weighing her down. She would have to clean it out. Maybe when her friend, Agatha, was safe again.
Fulton laughed when he heard the thunk as it hit the seat. “Some day you’ll have to belt that in or the seat belt warning bell will come on.”
Kat tried to hide her embarrassment.
“It’s already happened, hasn’t it?”
“I’ve cleaned it out since then. Okay, it was a while ago.”
She straightened her shoulders. She hastened to change the subject. It was time to strengthen her point about the confusing messages in the flowers and handwritten notes.
“The notes and flowers indicate the sender is a frustrated sort with a history with these women, at least Agatha and Margaret. He, or she, knows a lot about herbs, too. Have the police been looking for a greenhouse?”
“Give us a break, Kat. There are a zillion greenhouses out there.”
He added, “It’s difficult tracking the right one when Margaret isn’t here to tell us people she knew in the past. Her husband is gone and we are seriously trying to find who we think is the only living relative. A nephew who seems to have disappeared. Any help Agatha or the herb crew can give us as to a lead here would move us forward.”
Once her window was open he closed her door for her. “You hear anything, you let us know right away.”
“Okay. I hope I’ve made my point. I think Rosalin saw something. Something that her killer couldn’t let her reveal. The coincidence of three bouquets and two killers boggles the mind. There might, or might not, be a connection between why Margaret was killed and why Rosalin was. Two approaches to gain the same end result, maybe?”
This must have struck a cord. Fulton looked at her appreciatively, followed quickly by a frown as he turned away. “We’ll get back to you. But if you think of anything else I can do to get back in Fanny’s good graces, buzz me right away.”
Chapter 31
Observation shows that the tendency to enlarge the left margin and to neglect the right goes with an extraversive nature—a symbolical gazing to the outer world signified by the right margin.
“We’ve got it!”
Nick gripped the phone tight. “You mean the money?” He put the speaker phone on so all could hear.
“What else? A six-pack of Keystone Ice? Yes, Nick. We’ve got the five million.”
“G.L. I’ll love you forever.”
“No thank you. I’m no competition for Kat. Don’t forget. She faced me down with a kitchen knife when I first met her.”
Nick gave his crew the thumbs up signal and turned back to the phone. “So what’s the deal? We were almost ready to give up. Harrison Chandler made noises about going elsewhere it was taking us so long.”
G.L. laughed. “Right. Like he could find five mill hanging on a tree. And this deal is a short term one so I hope we can reel him in quick. The fraud division didn’t like the sound of our setup. Wanted no part of entrapment. I convinced them that when this guy found out how rich you were he approached you.”
“They didn’t ask how Chandler found out poor ole me was rich?”
“They’re short sighted. Of course they could have looked up all the fake info I planted in accounts of Peter Alden. I worked really hard to keep those files easy to hack. Not enough for anyone to steal the money, mind you. Just enough for them to think you had it.”
“Great job. Remind me to give you a raise.”
“Right. We’re partners, remember. What I get, you get. And I’m not likely to forget that. By the way, you should read those files so you know every sordid thing I created for you.”
“Hmm, you’d better fill me in.”
G.L. laid out the logistics of how Nick could use the five million in the account. Convince Harrison Chandler that Nick Donnelly, aka Peter Alden of the Oakwood Alden’s fame, wants to expand into resort ownership.
He reminded him to get the offer, with details, in a signed writing from Chandler or whoever was the legal representative for the resort development firm.
Nick jotted down the information necessary, knowing that G.L. probably already sent the pertinent account numbers and details to their encrypted website. Turning to Lewis and the others in the room, Nick said, so all could hear, “We’ll arrange it for first thing in the morning and hope the guy is willing to come here. If not, we’ll set up a secure site wherever the guy wants. It’s time to get this done. Thanks so much for all your work on this.”
Nick nodded at G.L.’s response and smiled directly at Lewis. “Yes, we’ll make sure Agatha is off site. Maybe Lewis? He’s already shaking his head no, actually holding his head in his hands. He’s faking a noose. We’ll work something out.”
High fives around and they sat down to business.
Nick pointed to Tom, their supposed mechanic. “They haven’t heard your voice yet. Drop your practiced car shop tone and become my assistant. Not too snooty. Make no concessions.”
“So how do we play this? Try to draw him here?”
“You got it. With any luck he won’t want us to see his headquarters. We haven’t been able to track one down around here. Makes the whole setup suspicious in itself.”
Lewis winced. He obviously knew what position it put him in with Agatha, but agreed. “We should definitely get him here. That way we can control the entrances and the connecting room.”
Tom and Nick tweaked the wording of the coming phone conversation until they felt it carried just the right amount of arrogance from a man willing to provide five million to this new scheme the developer is offering. Tom’s voice changed in pitch twice before they settled on the correct tone for an assistant. They also played around with the language, finding wording that wouldn’t provoke the developer.
“It would be risky to sound like I’m willing to deal with just anyone. If the person you talk with won’t agree to Chandler, tell them you need to confer with me and you’ll get back to them.”
“They sounded desperate days ago. I doubt if they’ll be fussy now. Good to have a plan, though.”
Tom picked up the phone to call. Nick grabbed his hand. “Don’t forget, my name is Peter Ramsey Alden. Not Nick.”
Tom shook noticeably. It appeared Nick had warned him just in time. He made the call and agreed to the time of 10 a.m. the next day. The room was so quiet while he talked that he could have been alone. As he hung up, Lance clacked away at the computer, working out the financials.
Nick twitched his pen between fingers. The men watched, fascinated. He realized they knew him too well. The pen always revealed his brain revving so fast he couldn’t pin words down. He had to think it through. A double-sided plan would cover most possibilities. First, exactly what would transpire if Chandler arrived at the suite? The other option should cover what might happen if the developer chose another location. Safety of all the men came first. Lock the man into signing the fraudulent scheme. He paced. He thought. They waited. The pen stopped moving.
They all sat down and Nick laid out the plan. Everything needed to run like a well-oiled clock. The men embellished the plan with a few thoughts of their own.
“Some of these ideas are great, guys. I especially like Tom’s idea to follow Chandler from the meet, wherever it will take place. From here it’s a cinch. He’s agreed to meeting here so let’s work out every detail from this direction.”
Tom reviewed the vehicles they had for Nick and added, “I don’t think these are adequate.”
“Let’s coordinate with G.L. He and the other men can bring in an extra car and truck and do the surveillance we need. You work on that.”
Nick pulled Lewis aside.
The man blanched and backed up until he hit the wall. “Come on, man. You know I like Agatha. She’s a real classy lady, but she doesn’t listen to me any more. And I want in on the action this time. Maybe one of the other men could take her shopping or something?”
Nick chuckled. “You’re safe. We’ll ask the detective if a policeman can work with her. Some unknown cop who should be able to handle her for a few hours. We still have that whole other issue of the women’s deaths. We can’t forget that no matter how crucial this meeting is.”
Lewis said, “Once we knew that Fanny Endicott saw Chandler at the Bittersweet Herbs Shop, G.L. started more in-depth research involving the shop and the farm. I’m sure the police have, too.”
Nick’s frown revealed his concern, even though the murders were technically the police jurisdiction. His wife and her friends were involved. The police wouldn’t be working alone on this until it was resolved. He nodded at Lewis. “See what you can find out. G.L.’s been involved in several other cases while we waited here for Chandler. Hopefully, he’s had time to at least latch on to some sort of trail in the herb case.”
The men gathered round at that. The original client who thought the developer might be committing fraud had spent ages with the proper agencies before they all said one thing: “Not enough to prove anything.” That’s when the Petingill and Donnelly Security Agency had been called in. They were close to closing the deal. If they could get in writing what they needed, they could move on.
As important as the case was, Nick could see that they all felt an affinity to the herb case, even though it was in the hands of the police. A lot of the men knew the women involved. Certainly, none of them wanted harm to come to Agatha.
He was not the only one charmed by this “classy lady,” as Lewis called her. She loved her tea and the ceremony of serving it. He knew half of them had switched to tea to please her. No mean feat among these strong coffee drinkers.
Lance snagged a moment in the silence to catch their attention. “Boss, I’ve got all the financials you asked for. G.L. also sent tons of paperwork explaining what we need, exactly, in writing, before we got this guy.”
Nick pulled the papers forward that Lance had printed. While he looked at them, Lance continued. “Strangely enough, G.L. found no applications for permits. So there are no landowners on record as agreeing to sell their property if the resort plan is approved.”
Nick shuffled through all the paperwork one more time. “You’re right. It doesn’t leave us with much of a paper trail. That just confirms my premise. They are not legit.”
Lance added, “We do have a sales record on the farmer’s land over near Marta Karprinski, that old lady Kat mentioned. His name was Gunther Ackermann. It does look like he sold right after a fire.”
“That was a few weeks ago, wasn’t it?” Nick said. “It was bought outright by the Maura World Development Inc. There is also one other small piece of property owned by the developers. With those two we can guess at an area involved, just nothing firm.”
Lewis confirmed that the norm would have had developers plan something like this resort and get the property owners on board with optional sales papers. If the resort permits went through and everything worked out, they would buy the property.
Nick paced again. “If we hypothetically include the herb farm, we start to fill in a large area and possibly connect with the recent murders.”
“That’s a major point, Nick.” Lewis continued, “Okay. In both cases, the developer bought directly, no options or out for themselves. Maybe that’s where they planned to build their headquarters and needed the first right away. Why buy Ackermann’s?”
“We’ll explore that. It could be he sold it for a song, just wanting to leave.”
Nick nodded. “We need to find which one is headquarters. Maybe G.L. can check that out.” He gave it more thought that went nowhere.
Lance mumbled about that being only one of the many problems of this development situation. Nick chose not to respond, mentally agreeing that this was a tangled mess all around. They needed a weaving expert to unravel the threads. Or a great lawyer.
“For now, G.L. will work on alternate meeting plans and I’ll finalize what’s needed on this end.”
> Nick put in a call to Detective Hill and asked for someone to remove Agatha safely in the morning. The detective agreed with the request. He confirmed that leads on the two deaths were narrowing. Nick could hear the detective’s concern. With no eye witnesses and no firm evidence the situation looked bleak.
“We found a record of George’s sister and her son, but still, no current locations. How do people drop off the grid in this day and age? You like a Facebook page once and you’re known round the world.”
“Maybe they’re in the crooked netherworld.”
“Or planning to return momentarily to claim the old man’s property. Even with two wills that say otherwise.”
“So, if they weren’t in the will, but expected to be, they may be out to get the property?”
“Yeah, that’s about it. We hoped to tie in your developers from that end, too. I wanted proof that Chandler approached Mrs. Kinney or George’s relatives with a purchase offer. Nothing so far.”
“Okay. We’ll keep moving on Chandler and Maura World Development from this end. The meeting I have with them tomorrow should settle it. At least some of it.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to picture the CEO of a world corporation giving handwritten threats and bouquets to its victims.”
“Just make sure Ms. Hartman is out of here before ten.”
Chapter 32
When letters are written in pieces that don’t touch each other, it signifies deception. If you know someone who writes this way, look for the hidden.
Chandler waved his coffee mug at Akins.
The man knew his place. He moved quickly to refill it, brushing away the drips with his sleeve.
“Somethin’s not right about this set up,” Chandler said, as they sat in the headquarters’ kitchen. “If the guy doesn’t live around here why’s he hanging out for two weeks doin’ nothing? He hasn’t even spent time at the casino. Now, that’s just suspicious.”
Akins poured himself a cup and eased himself into the rickety chair before he joined in. “Didn’t Eastwood say he saw the man arrive in a Mercedes SL63 Roadster and the broad with him sure didn’t look like a wife. Maybe it’s a hideout and he wants part of Maura World Development so he can live in style at his own place when away from home, if you know what I mean.”