Death of a Hot Chick

by Norma Huss

  “But did she have any proof? Did she leave any records with you?”

  “No papers. No records. Nothing except clothes. And you aren’t going to toss her stuff just out of curiosity. I sent it all to her parents.”

  “You can see the problem,” Kaye told me. “I truly believe that Nicole’s situation with her father is behind her murder. And, we must learn what she found out. But how can we?”

  “Hey, it’s over,” Finley said. “Her dad will get his stock back and nobody will stop him. Nicole did her thing and I did mine. She lost. She’s gone.”

  I watched their verbal jousting.

  “Then what are we even doing here?” Kaye asked. “You don’t care if we find her killer, do you?”

  “Hey, lady fuss-budget, you wanna chop down her dad—that’s your thing. Getting her killer—that’s my thing.”

  Kaye hesitated, then said, “When I first knew Nicole, she was withdrawn, almost as if she did not want to be noticed. Was she always like that?”

  “Didn’t we have this conversation at your house?”

  I twisted my bottle of Pepsi and tried to ignore their rising anger. But Kaye kept needling Finley. Not the way to go, I could tell her.

  Kaye must have sensed that because she switched subjects. “Have you been to the butterfly garden in Queen’s Circle?”

  “So?”

  “Is that a yes?” Kaye asked. Finley shrugged again, so Kaye added, “You probably know all about it. How Nicole set it up, how she called it the Garden of Gethsemene. Do you know why?”

  Finley sipped her Pepsi. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “I’ve often wondered why that name. She liked to sit there—she said it renewed her spirit. But, in Christian tradition, the Garden of Gethsemene was where Judas betrayed his spiritual father.”

  “Oh, yeah. You got symbolism up the kazoo. But Nicole’s dead, not her father.”

  “If she confronted him before her death, she wouldn’t necessarily take him there. Can you visualize any scenario that would bring him to the marina for a meeting?”

  “You want to trap him at the marina, go ahead.”

  The situation obviously needed a new entry. “I’ve been thinking of a way to trap Chester.” I chugged some Pepsi and waited for a response.

  “Yes, we must have traps for them all.” Kaye pulled a bunch of paper out of her humongous bag. “Cyd, you were right, Chester wasn’t killed in that auto crash. I’ve researched each of our three suspects. We either do three traps, or we choose a venue frequented by all three. I’ve narrowed it down to these areas of Smith Harbor.”

  “A map? Ain’t that a flash,” Finley said.

  “We must not rush into this as we might scare our perp away,” Kaye said as she unfolded a second map. “Now, this one could signify an excellent listening post.”

  I thought, “Perp?” but said, “Kaye, you don’t have any traps, do you?”

  “Oh, but I do. I actually have two possibilities for Mr. Joline. The first would involve my contacts with the legal profession. It may be possible to trace the records of a particular donation to see where it goes. Could be revealing.”

  Finley asked, “And how long have you been looking for this elusive evidence?”

  I said, “And what makes you so sure that lawyer wants to see you again? He didn’t see me, and I’m supposed to be his client.”

  Kaye shrugged. “There are public records open to all. I’m sure I can dig into Mr. Joline’s records through my volunteer job with his charity. I’ll find the evidence of theft in his records, then we turn him over to the police with the hint that he’s the killer. They have methods to make one talk.”

  “Oh, send him to some third world country to a secret prison where they torture the truth out of him?” Finley asked.

  “The theft will put him away.”

  Finley snorted. “White collar crime. A year, maybe two.”

  “And he still has everything he inherited from Nicole to pay for the best lawyer, so he won’t even get that,” I added.

  “So, what do you have to offer?”

  I said, “Maybe we could find out how much he wants Snapdragon. I can offer its use for his charity, but I’ll ask for all kinds of certification, papers to sign. One of them is his confession, hidden under a lot of other papers. He’ll get so confused, or eager, that he’ll sign them all. There’s our proof.”

  Finley snorted. “Uncle Ed would no more sign a paper without reading it than he’d leap off the top of a ten story building.”

  “Cyd, a tricked signature is not proof. Such a signature is not allowable evidence under any law.”

  I said, “None of our plans for those two will work. We’re trying to trick a couple of guys who are smarter than we are. The only possibility is Chester. If Nicole could trick him into giving her his boat, which it now turns out he didn’t want to give her, why can’t we trick him into admitting he killed her? He’s definitely the type to act before thinking. If his idea of clever action is to kill Nicole so he can get her boat, he has a problem.”

  “Good thinking,” Kaye said, rather sarcastically, I thought. “What is your trap?”

  “We set him up inside the boat, and we’d have a cell phone set for video watching him. So why does he want the boat? Has anyone thought of that? I mean, he had the boat for years and never paid any attention to it. Evidently.”

  Finley said, “Old buddy, you don’t know a hell of a lot about cell phones, do you?”

  “Won’t work?”

  “Nope.”

  “I have a second plan for Mr. Joline,” Kaye said. “I could invite him to the academy as a guest lecturer on charitable giving, and running a charity. I would supply questions to the students, all of them leading—or most of them. Example: ‘What percentage of the total take does a management company earn?’ ‘What are the tax problems or advantages?’ ‘Does every donation go into the same fund, or do you maintain separate accounts for each charity?’ And of course, the shocker: ‘Why didn’t your daughter work with you?’”

  “And, after all those questions, Uncle Ed says, ‘Sorry, kids, I killed my daughter.’ I don’t think so.”

  Kaye said, “In the meantime, I do have an all-inclusive trap planned. We’ll leave those to last. Cyd, do you have one for Brandon?”

  “Sure,” I mumbled. “Except...why isn’t it possible to use a cell phone to video.”

  “For starters, who’s there to turn it on, to aim it, to turn it off? And if it’s hidden behind something, it can’t see anything but whatever it’s hidden behind.”

  “Which is why my plan is better,” Finley said. “Real people, with more hiding room to overhear a real confession. Like I said, I don’t believe Uncle Ed is the killer, but my idea is better than yours. Similar to catching the real killer. Invite him over. Maybe invite my aunt as well. He wouldn’t suspect a trick. Auntie falls asleep after a couple of drinks, then I start in on Uncle. Tell him a few choice facts that I heard from Nicole. Accuse him of killing her to get back control of his company. He’ll naturally want to kill me, so you two will be here to save my ever-loving hide.”

  “So, you set yourself up to be killed one way or the other and Kaye and I rush in to save you. Does that go for Chester too? How will you get him over here?”

  “I’ll sic you on him. See, you tell him I’ve got all the necessary papers, you bring him here, and we pop the accusation.”

  “He doesn’t kill. He burns things.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “We are not getting anywhere,” Kaye said. “What’s the use of all this?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Finley said. “How about advertise in the newspaper. One thousand dollars to the person who proves the identity....”

  “Hey,” I shouted. “The newspaper! We do use the newspaper. This Sunday. It’s the perfect trap. Won’t make a bit of difference who’s the guilty one. We’ll catch the killer Sunday night. And I know exactly how we’ll do it.”

  Cha
pter 17

  I caught the look that passed between Kaye and Finley. “Another addle-brained, nit-wit idea,” it seemed to say.

  “No really. We will catch the killer on Sunday. Teddy’s writing an article for The Orbit about people who live on boats. She adds a few words to her article, the killer reads the paper, he’ll come to kill Lizzie, and we’ll be there to catch him.”

  “Run that by me again,” Finley said. “What is this with Teddy?”

  “Yes,” Kaye said. “And the newspaper? You may have a kernel of an idea, but the time is much too short for proper planning. How about next week.”

  “No,” Finley said.

  “The article will be in Sunday’s paper, whether she changes the words or not. I’d better call right away.”

  “It’s too soon. We’ve done no planning,” Kaye said.

  But I had pushed the final number and immediately got Teddy’s message center. “This is Cyd. Can you still add a few words to the boat article? Call me, no matter how late.”

  “Cyd, we haven’t discussed this at all. I said it has possibilities, but this is too fast.”

  I ignored Kaye and said, “We get Doug Yarnell’s help. I mean, we do need someone official. When the killer comes after Lizzie the police will be there to arrest him.”

  Finley screwed up her face and said, “Huh?”

  Kaye leaned on her elbows. “I’m sure there’s a modicum of intelligent discourse in there somewhere.”

  “Teddy. She’s writing about us. I mean, she came to the marina and got all our information and pictures. You know, about people who live on boats and the editor wants vacation stuff for kids before....”

  “Slow down,” Kaye said. “You’re rattling. Start over.”

  Kaye was right. I nodded. “Okay. First—Teddy came. To the marina, I mean. That’s because of The Orbit’s vacation supplement, things to do before school starts.”

  “Okay, we’ve got Teddy talking to you at the marina.”

  “And taking pictures. Actually, someone named Reba took the pictures.”

  “How does that trap a killer?” Finley asked.

  Kaye waved her hands at Finley. “Don’t confuse her.” She turned back. “You’re at the marina, Cyd. Teddy talked to you.”

  “You’re treating her like a child,” Finley yelled.

  “Oooh,” Kaye wailed and clenched her fists. “I know what I’m doing. Bug off!”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re doing too,” I said. “Both of you just shut up and listen.”

  “But...”

  “You too, Finley,” I said.

  Kaye shrugged and sat back. Finley crossed her arms, scowled, and followed suit.

  “I’m sorry I got excited. It just came to me like a shot. The perfect trap. Teddy’s article will be in Sunday’s paper including all about people who live on boats. The killer will read it. He’ll find out that Lizzie was there overnight, just like I was. I’ve already told the police everything I know, so I’m not a threat. Lizzie’s boat is way closer to where I found Nicole’s body. She didn’t see anything, but the killer doesn’t know that.”

  “He’ll want to kill Lizzie. Is that the plan?” Kaye said.

  “That’s like my plan that nobody liked,” Finley said. “So, you say we’ll all be there to catch him in the act.”

  “You bet. Teddy’s article can hint that Lizzie may have seen more than she admitted to. We move Lizzie out of her boat to some safe place while we wait for the killer.”

  “Hey, hey!” Finley put both thumbs up. “I like it.”

  Kaye pointed to one of her maps. “The marina is one area I’ve selected. A secondary one, true. Perhaps we could set that trap there. I know Mr. Joline frequents the area.”

  I said, “The killer definitely frequented the marina. It’s where Nicole was killed!”

  “But this Sunday? Much too soon. We have to make arrangements. That could certainly work within my plans, but say, in two weeks. Yes, a Wednesday, I believe.”

  “This Sunday is when The Orbit will have the article. Did you hear me? Some other time won’t fit into their schedule.”

  “Hey face it, Kaye. Your little sister beat you out. Didn’t I say she’s sharper than you give her credit for?”

  Kaye turned on me. “Teddy will name you, too? How can you allow that?”

  “So it’s a go?” I said.

  “Wait, wait. We’ve got to plan how to do everything. Aren’t we a team?”

  “I vote for Cyd’s trap,” Finley said. “Sunday’s good. I’m not gonna wait around doing nothing for a couple of weeks.”

  “Majority rules. Kaye, it’s only Friday. We’ve got ’til Sunday. We have to move Lizzie out first, so nobody gets killed.”

  “And get the law in,” Kaye added with a sigh of capitulation. “Tell Lizzie she’ll move into my house. My spare room is empty.”

  Finley said, “We’ll have it all over and done with before Monday morning.”

  “We must get organized. Cyd, you contact Teddy. I’ll call the police to coordinate with them. Or maybe Teddy should talk to Doug. Didn’t she have a thing for him once? Finley, ah, do you know anyone else we could get to help out?”

  “Might.”

  They’d taken over my plan. They had to think it would work. But it was still my plan. I said, “Teddy definitely had a thing for Doug, once. Anyway, she’ll get a lot more cooperation.”

  “If Teddy’s ‘thing’ is off, perhaps I should contact the police.”

  “And I said....”

  Finley said. “Kaye, do you want to find a killer or do you want to stake out your own territory?”

  Kaye sat, her mouth a thin line. Finally, she said, “Find the killer. Cyd, when you talk to Teddy, sound her out. She can decide who’s better to obtain police cooperation—at least with Doug Yarnell. But we must get both of them to meet with us. It will have to be tomorrow before the newspaper comes out. Any suggestions?” she added, looking straight at Finley.

  I answered. “How about meeting on my boat? That’s handy for Lizzie and she’s got to agree.” Softly, I added, “Maybe Nicole will come.”

  “What?” Finley said.

  “Her ghost, I mean.”

  Finley stood, took a step forward, then returned to her chair. “Cyd, you always did have an amazing imagination.”

  Before I could say another word, Kaye broke in. “She does, doesn’t she? But we love her anyway.” She stood. “Sounds like we have our plans well made. Finley, tomorrow morning? How about noon for lunch? What do you think? At Cyd’s boat.”

  “After lunch. One thirty.”

  Kaye jumped up and said, “I’ll drop you off, Cyd.” Then she blew us out of there like a brisk wind on the bay.

  When we reached the sidewalk, I said, “That was fast. What’s going on?”

  “My car is down the street,” was Kaye’s only answer.

  ~ ~

  Once inside the car, Kaye asked, “What’s in that bag?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m thinking. The bag?”

  I pulled out the Norris Charter cap, put it on my head, then held up the blue-green T-shirt. “I worked today. Got a uniform, you might say.”

  Kaye turned the key, started the engine, then glanced my way. “Cute.”

  “My size. My name on the pocket. I don’t know whether I’m pleased or mad as hell.”

  “Why?” Kaye said as she glanced back, then pulled into the road.

  “The usual.” But I knew Kaye was not listening. She was thinking. And, she wouldn’t listen, or speak, until she came to some kind of conclusion. Why did we have to leave in such a hurry? I watched the street, and the buildings zoom by.

  It wasn’t until Kaye stopped at Smith Harbor Marina that she spoke.

  “Finley doesn’t want to see Nicole’s ghost and you were about to argue that there really is a ghost.

  “Okay.” Arguing with Finley hadn’t upset Kaye before. “And what else?”

  “How much do you
know about Finley? I mean recently, not years ago when you ran commercial boats with her.”

  “Back then, I’d trust her with my life.”

  “But now?”

  “She seems the same. Almost.”

  “She’s moving out. Two suitcases are opened up on her bed with folded clothing inside and piled around.”

  Instead of answering, I went on the offensive. “You were snooping.”

  “Just being observant. Closet door open with almost nothing but hangers inside. Packed boxes and suitcases in the bedroom. A box in the bathroom half filled with everything but toothbrush and comb. Oh, and one towel and one washcloth hanging over the tub.”

  I touched the pocket that held Nicole’s note.

  Kaye continued. “I opened her refrigerator to get the iced tea and Pepsi. Practically empty, except for a bag of lemons that she probably never got around to using. No leftovers in little dishes or plastic bags.”

  Did she keep leftovers? Probably ate them all.

  “I’ve never been to Finley’s home before, of course. But I noticed there was nothing personal inside. It seemed more like a motel room. No pictures and no knick-knacks at all.

  “No magazines or puzzles. I noticed.”

  What was going on? Was Finley moving out, leaving? Would she still be in Smith Harbor tomorrow? Would she be there Sunday when we caught Nicole’s killer? She said she would. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

  “Because she killed Nicole and she’s running away.”

  Chapter 18

  Finley kill Nicole? “That is too—too, too, too....” She couldn’t. Not her cousin, after all that she’d told us. I felt hysterical laugher threatening to burst out. I bit my lip. Shook my head. “No! That’s impossible.” I knew, I just knew. “And how did you find out about her bags, anyway?”

  “I saw the evidence when I took a potty break before you came.”

  “She did not kill Nicole. I refuse to believe that. Maybe she’s changing apartments.”

  “Don’t be surprised if you never see her again.”

  Firmly, I said, “Kaye, listen to me. Finley did not kill her cousin. I’d stake my life on her.”