by Sarah Fox
I joined her on the couch. “But how would he know that? And how did your bracelet end up in Chester’s apartment?”
Lisa dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know! I lost the bracelet yesterday but I don’t know where or exactly when.”
None of this was good, but I didn’t want to add to Lisa’s distress by letting on how discouraged I felt by her news. Instead, I forced myself to focus and carefully thought things over.
“I don’t think you’re tall enough to have committed Wally’s murder, so does Ray still think Ivan was in on it too?”
“Yes.” Lisa raised her head and wiped away another tear. “Especially since…”
“Since what?” I asked with apprehension.
“Sheriff Georgeson wanted to know if I have an alibi for Chester’s murder. I do, but it’s not one he bought.”
“Why not?”
“Because my alibi is that I was with Ivan that night.”
My eyebrows shot up. “The whole night?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Lisa hurried to say. “He cooked me dinner and then we were watching a movie at his place. I fell asleep on the couch and Ivan didn’t have the heart to wake me since I haven’t slept well all week, so he let me stay there.”
I sank deeper into the couch cushions. The only person who could confirm Lisa’s alibi was a suspect himself, and Lisa’s bracelet was found at the second crime scene. I was surprised Ray hadn’t arrested her already. Maybe he was waiting until he could prove the bracelet belonged to Lisa.
“The next time the sheriff shows up, he’ll probably drag me off in handcuffs,” Lisa said, her thoughts on the same page as mine.
I put a hand to her back. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, but you should get a lawyer, Lisa. You shouldn’t answer any more questions without one.”
“I know, even though it makes me ill to think it’s gone that far. I’ve got the names of a couple of criminal lawyers in Port Angeles. Ivan will need one too.” She picked up her phone from the coffee table. “And I should tell him what happened with the sheriff. He’ll probably be questioned next.”
I put a hand on hers. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t contact him.”
“But I don’t want him taken by surprise.”
“I know, but it might not look good if your phone records show that you contacted him right after you were questioned by the sheriff. It wouldn’t prove anything, but it might look suspicious, like you were trying to get your stories straight.”
Lisa reluctantly set her phone back on the coffee table. “This is awful. I don’t understand how things got this bad.”
“You really can’t remember when you last saw your bracelet?” I asked. That seemed to be the most incriminating evidence.
“I had it on yesterday morning when I left for work, but when I went to bed last night, it was gone. I looked for it at the office today, but it wasn’t there. I looked all over the house too. It’s not the first time it’s fallen off, but I felt it happen the other times.”
“Where else did you go yesterday?”
“I went to the Beach and Bean for coffee and I picked up a few things from the grocery store after I left work.”
“But you never went to Chester’s apartment for any reason?”
“No.”
“Can you think of anyone who might want to frame you for the crime?”
“Do you think that’s what’s happening?”
“It didn’t cross my mind before, but with your bracelet showing up in Chester’s apartment… I can’t think of any other way to explain that.”
Lisa thought for a moment, but then shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone who would want to do that to me. Why would anyone hate me that much?”
“It might not be about hate. It might just be that you were a convenient target when the killer wanted to deflect suspicion.” I paused as I turned things over in my mind. “When Ray asked you for an alibi, did he give you a timeframe?”
“Between ten last night and seven this morning.”
So Chester must have been killed between those hours.
Lisa eyed her phone. “I’m worried about Ivan. If it’s a bad idea to phone him, maybe I should go by his place.”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea either. I’m sorry, Lisa. I don’t want you making things any worse for yourself.”
“Will you go see him?”
“Of course. I’ll go over there now if you want.”
She nodded. “Please.”
“And while I’m gone, you should call one of those lawyers.”
She agreed to do so. I gave her a hug and promised her I’d find a way to help her and Ivan. It was a promise I was determined to keep.
* * * *
I was worried I might find a sheriff’s department cruiser parked outside Ivan’s home when I arrived, but the only car in front of his single-story white house was his classic Volkswagen bug. As I waited for a response to my knock on the front door, I checked my text messages. Brett had arrived back in town with Chloe and his parents and was planning to stay at his parents’ house for at least the next couple of hours. That was what I’d expected, and it meant that I had no reason to hurry home.
Before I had a chance to send a response, Ivan opened the door.
“I’m here on Lisa’s behalf,” I said. “Partly, anyway.”
Alarm showed on Ivan’s face. “Is she okay?”
“Yes,” I hurried to assure him. “Well, mostly.”
He stepped back to allow me inside. Once in the foyer, I detected a delicious aroma wafting down the hall from the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Have you eaten dinner?” Ivan asked as he shut the door.
“No, but don’t let me interrupt if you’re eating. And don’t worry about me.”
He led the way down the hall. When we reached the kitchen, he checked a pot on the stove while I told him about Lisa’s visit from the sheriff.
The pot’s lid clattered against the countertop as it slid from Ivan’s grasp. “Her bracelet was at the crime scene?”
“To me it seems like someone is trying to frame her.”
He let out a deep, growl-like sound. “Who?”
“I wish I knew.”
My stomach growled, the delicious smell of whatever Ivan was cooking making my mouth water. He cast a brief glance my way before removing two dinner plates from a cupboard and setting them on the counter. His scowl was more menacing than ever as he spooned risotto onto both plates.
“You really don’t have to worry about feeding me,” I protested.
He directed his scowl at me. “You’re hungry.”
I couldn’t exactly argue that point, especially since my stomach chose that moment to give another loud grumble.
Ivan added a piece of chicken to one plate and grilled eggplant to both.
“I can get you some tofu,” he said, reaching for the refrigerator door.
“Please don’t go to any trouble, Ivan. Really.”
He glared at me, the force of his dark gaze almost making me take a step backward, but then he relented and handed me the plate without the chicken.
“Thank you,” I said weakly, still recovering from the force of his glare.
I joined him at the kitchen table by the window that overlooked his backyard. It was dark outside now, but I knew if it were light out I’d see well-stocked birdfeeders and a neatly tended yard.
“Why would anyone frame Lisa?” Ivan asked once we were seated, glasses of water set before us along with our meals.
I shared my thoughts on the matter, including the fact that the killer might have targeted her simply because she was already a suspect.
Ivan nodded as he sliced his knife through the piece of chicken. “That sounds likely. S
urely Lisa wouldn’t have any enemies.”
“She doesn’t think so, and neither do I.”
I put the first forkful of mushroom risotto into my mouth and the taste momentarily distracted me from our conversation. “This is amazing, Ivan. By far the best risotto I’ve ever tasted.”
He gave the compliment only a grunt of acknowledgment, but I thought his scowl eased slightly for a second or two.
I steered my thoughts back on track. “The sheriff didn’t come by to question you this afternoon?”
Ivan shook his head. “Probably just a matter of time.”
I agreed that was likely the case. “Lisa wanted to make sure you knew what was happening, but I didn’t think it would be good for her to contact you herself. I don’t want anyone thinking you were trying to get your stories straight before you got questioned again.”
Ivan gave that a curt nod of acknowledgment.
“So I promised her I’d come by and see you,” I continued. “But I also wanted to know your thoughts on everything. Do you have any idea who killed Wally and Chester?”
Ivan was in the midst of chewing, so he didn’t reply right away. I took the opportunity to taste the grilled eggplant.
My eyes widened as the delicious flavors hit my taste buds. “This is incredible too. You should put together a cookbook, Ivan. All your recipes are amazing.”
That suggestion was met with a noncommittal grunt and he quickly got the conversation back on course. “I don’t know who killed those men.” His eyes narrowed at me. “You must have suspects.”
“I do,” I confirmed. “There’s Glo Hansfield, for starters.” I filled Ivan in on her motive. “But apparently whoever killed Wally was tall enough and strong enough to force his head down into the bowl as he poured the liquid nitrogen.”
Ivan nodded. “Makes sense. And Glo Hansfield is short.”
“Exactly. That’s the problem with her as a suspect, but I’m thinking her husband could be involved. He’s nearly a foot taller than his wife.”
Ivan stared off across the room for a few ticks of the clock on the wall. “Forrest Hansfield,” he said after a moment. “He’s an accountant. He has an office in town.”
“Does he?” I tucked that information away for the time being. “There’s also Vicky Fowler. She inherited Wally’s millions, and she’s not overly distraught that he’s dead. But she has an alibi for his murder, and she seemed to be in love with Chester, even though their romantic relationship only started recently. But there’s something more.” I told him what the bartender had shared with me about Chester complaining that someone had trampled his heart.
“Vicky?” Ivan asked.
“That’s what I thought, but there’s still that alibi.”
“For Wally’s death, but not Chester’s,” Ivan pointed out.
“True.” I ate some more risotto. “Do you think Chester could have killed Wally and then Vicky killed Chester?” I shook my head as soon as the words were out of my mouth. “I still find that last part hard to believe. The last time I saw Vicky, she genuinely seemed to be in love with Chester, or at least well on her way to being in love with him.”
“Relationships change,” Ivan said. “Sometimes abruptly.”
I conceded that point, but I still had trouble picturing Vicky killing Chester. Although, if she’d lied to cover for Chester and then found out that he’d killed her brother, maybe she’d lost all warmth for Chester and sought revenge for Wally. That was something to consider.
Ivan speared the last of his chicken with his fork. “Who else?”
I told him about Adam Silvester and how he’d recently come up with the money needed for his daughter’s surgery.
“Killing Wally and Chester wouldn’t have helped him financially unless someone hired him to commit the crimes,” Ivan pointed out.
I remembered something I’d heard days before. “That’s true, but the day after Wally’s death, Vicky discovered that a bunch of cash was missing from the waffle house.”
“But Wally’s death didn’t look like a robbery interrupted.”
“Good point.” I thought that over as I finished off my eggplant. “But if Adam killed Wally out of anger because he refused to lend him or give him the money he needed, maybe he took the time to look around the waffle house after the murder and found the cash.”
Ivan took a long drink of water and set his glass down. “Could be. But then why kill Chester?”
“Because he knew something that incriminated Adam?”
Ivan’s frown deepened, but he said nothing.
“I need to take a closer look at all those suspects if I’m going to figure out who’s responsible.”
“Investigating leads to danger,” Ivan said, his dark gaze pinned on me again.
I tried not to squirm in my seat. “You and Lisa are my friends, and Lisa could be arrested at any time now. I know you don’t want that to happen any more than I do.”
Ivan’s glower was positively frightening now. “I won’t sit back and let you put yourself in danger.”
I opened my mouth to object, but he cut me off.
“I know you won’t stop investigating, so we’ll do it together.”
As my surprise wore off, a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Partners in crime?”
“Truth-seeking, not crime.”
“Right.”
I almost mentioned that Sienna wanted in on the investigation as well but stopped myself. I knew Ivan had a soft spot for the sixteen-year-old and I didn’t want him thinking I’d encouraged her to get involved in crime solving.
“All right, partner,” I said instead. “What’s our next move?”
Chapter 23
I helped Ivan clean up after our delicious dinner, but once that was done, neither of us were content to sit back and relax for the rest of the evening. Instead, we drove into the center of town in my car, searching for an opportunity to find out more about Vicky or Forrest.
The waffle house was dark when we drove past. Ivan thought Vicky was living in the apartment above one of the shops down the street, but those windows were dark as well. Continuing along the street, Ivan directed me to Forrest Hansfield’s office and there we had more luck. Despite the fact that it was nearing seven o’clock, the lights were still on, a warm glow spilling out through the Venetian blinds. I wasn’t so sure that Forrest would be as welcoming as the lit window appeared, but I didn’t let that deter me.
It took some convincing to get Ivan to remain in the car. His presence would be great if I needed an intimidation factor, but to start I wanted to try a gentler approach.
I’d parked across the street and part way down the road from Forrest’s office but still within view of it. I shut the driver’s door quickly behind me, wanting to keep as much heat in the car as possible for Ivan while he waited. Tucking my hands up into the sleeves of my jacket, I dashed across the quiet street and jogged along the sidewalk.
For a split second I wondered if the door would be locked, but it opened easily. The middle-aged brunette at the desk in the small reception area looked up, clearly surprised to have a visitor.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her eyes flicking toward her computer screen. Checking the time, probably.
Before I could answer, the door at the back of the reception area opened and Forrest Hansfield appeared, an overcoat buttoned up over his suit and a briefcase in hand.
“Marilyn, I’m…” He trailed off when he saw me. “Are you here for an appointment?”
He sent a confused glance at his receptionist. She gave him a discreet shake of her head in return.
“No, and I’m sorry for stopping by so late,” I said quickly. “I saw the light on and hoped you might still be here. I’ve been looking around for an accountant, and my friend Lisa Morales recommended you, Mr. Hansfield.”
The lin
es of confusion furrowing across his brow deepened. “Is she a client of mine?”
“Lisa Morales? I’m not sure, but if not she’s heard good things about you.”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell, but maybe she knows one of my clients.” He nodded toward his receptionist. “Please feel free to make an appointment with Marilyn and we can discuss things further.”
He moved past me, heading for the door.
“It’s terrible what’s been happening in the neighborhood, isn’t it?” I said, hoping to keep him from leaving.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth. “Yes. Terrible.”
“Were you working late the night Wally Fowler was killed?”
His hand dropped from the doorknob and he turned to face me. “Why do you ask?”
His sudden suspicion sent a prickling sensation up the back of my neck, but I tried my best to keep my expression free of anything but innocence and curiosity.
“I was just wondering if you’d seen anyone out and about, since the waffle house isn’t too far from here.”
“I was at home with my daughter that evening, which is where I should be now.”
With barely a nod of dismissal, he made a swift exit.
I was disappointed that I hadn’t managed to get anything further out of him, but maybe that one tidbit of information he’d provided would be useful to some degree.
Marilyn cleared her throat and I realized I was still staring at the door.
“So would you like to make an appointment?” she asked.
“Maybe I should do that another time,” I said, trying to think of an excuse. “I forgot to bring my phone and my schedule’s on it. I wouldn’t want to accidentally double-book.”
“No problem. You can stop by or give me a call anytime.” She handed me one of Forrest’s business cards.
“Thank you.” I tucked the card in my pocket.
“I was here the evening the Waffle King was killed.” She’d lowered her voice, even though we were alone in the office, as far as I knew. “My home computer died and I needed to do some work for this online course I’m taking, so I was here until nearly ten.”