by Krista Davis
When Wong walked into my house, I handed the phone to Mars. “Call Alex and let him know Kevin is with us and safe. And keep an eye on him. He likes to wander.”
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere. He just said this is way better than TV.”
“Is Bernie here?” asked Wong.
“No.”
“Isn’t that his antique weapon?”
I started to laugh. “I guess it is.”
“Oh no,” Mars groaned. “She’s getting giddy.”
I was a little. Now that it was over.
Kevin proudly proclaimed, “It was in the den. I saw it when I was here before.”
“How did you get into the house?” I asked.
“I saw him hide after he knocked. Normal people don’t do that. Then he pushed his way in. So I ran around to the sunroom door and broke a window. Sorry about that.”
I hugged him. “I’m so glad you did.”
Wong walked away, and I asked Kevin, “What were you doing here?”
“They were all arguing. My mom’s parents said I would never see my dad again.” Tears welled in his eyes.
“Oh, honey. They’re upset because they lost their daughter. I’m sure they didn’t mean that.”
“I haven’t seen him since he was arrested,” Kevin said.
“I might be wrong, but I have a strong hunch you’re going to see him very, very soon.”
“Promise?”
I could hear people yelling Kevin’s name outside. I spied Wong and asked if she needed a statement from Kevin before he went home.
She sat down with him at the kitchen table while the EMTs discussed the best way of transporting Max without removing the halberd. Apparently, there was some fear that taking it out might spur bleeding and it was best done in a hospital.
When Wong was finished, I walked Kevin outside. Four worried grandparents descended upon him. Alex grabbed me in a big bear hug.
“I think they might release Rosey,” I whispered. “I’ll be very surprised if Max isn’t the one who murdered Elise.”
Alex gazed at Kevin. “Maybe the knowledge that he helped take down his mom’s killer will give him some closure later in life.”
Nina, Francie, Wanda, Natasha, and Harvey crowded around us. I didn’t have time to go into all the details.
A car screeched to a halt on the street. Martha jumped out and ran to us. “Max. Is he all right? I got a call . . .”
“Sophie!” called Wong.
“Come with me, Martha,” I said.
She pulled a shawl tight around her shoulders and walked with me. They had Max on a gurney, ready to load him into the ambulance.
“Max? Honey, can you hear me?”
For the first time, Max stirred. “Martha?” He slurred her name.
I was just glad he didn’t say Rosie.
“Oh, Max, what have you done?”
“For you, Martha. For you.” His words were faint and imprecise but the meaning was certainly clear.
They wheeled him away, and Martha turned to me. “I don’t know what to say other than how very sorry I am.” She tented her hands and held them over her nose and mouth as she walked out with her head bowed.
Martha followed the ambulance to the hospital. My friends poured into my house, Kevin left with his grandparents, and I got down on my knees to pick up the broken glass on my kitchen floor. Wanda revved up the steam mop to clean up the blood and wine. We hit the broken glass in the sunroom next, and Bernie taped a flattened cardboard box over the hole. With everyone pitching in, we were done faster than I could have imagined.
They peppered me with questions but all I wanted was a cup of tea.
Half an hour later, we all sat around the fire in my kitchen, while I sipped the strongest black tea I had and told them what a hero little Kevin was.
Natasha and Wanda were horrified and so grateful that Natasha had survived Max’s attack on her.
Everyone was thrilled that he was off the streets, and we could go back to walking freely in our beloved community. And Bernie couldn’t wait to tell his mom that the halberd had actually been used.
I slept better that night than I had in a long time. Things would finally start going back to normal. After breakfast, Nina, Francie, Daisy, Duke, Peanut, and I walked over to Robert’s house to help with the endless packing so Velma could finally put the place on the market.
Nina and I tackled the high kitchen shelves so that Velma and Francie wouldn’t have to climb ladders. Daisy and Duke stretched out in the hallway. Energetic little Peanut ran around them and tried to engage them in play by pulling on their ears and yipping at them.
“So let me understand this.” Velma placed a toaster into a box. “Martha’s husband, Max, was some kind of serial attacker?”
“First he went after Natasha but she got away from him, probably because Sophie arrived.” Nina wrapped an empty sugar bowl in newspaper. “Then he tried following Callie but she had the luck to run into Sophie and Mars. It looks like Elise was his only victim.”
“But why?” asked Francie.
I gazed down at her. “He didn’t seem to like Callie and thought she wasn’t a good employee. But that’s hardly reason to attack her. And I don’t think Natasha even knows him.”
“Maybe he thought they were threats to Martha?” Velma speculated. “Maybe he thought Martha should have a TV show like Natasha?”
“What about me?” I asked. “Or Elise?”
“Maybe he’s just a sicko who has an issue with women,” said Nina. “He didn’t go after any men, probably because he knew they could overpower him.”
As Nina spoke, I wondered if it was Max who had been down by the river with Natasha. Maybe he went there to throw the knife in the water. He might have reported Natasha and me to throw suspicion on us instead. But I felt as though something was wrong with that scenario.
Nina chattered on about Max and how clever Kevin had been.
I stood on the counter and handed her items from the top shelf. With a start, I realized what was bothering me. It was the wrong night! Natasha had dumped Wanda’s potion containers before Elise died. It still could have been Max who saw her at the river and reported her, but it couldn’t have been Natasha who threw the knife in the water because she was there before Elise was murdered.
“Imagine how Martha must feel today. I don’t think I would have the courage to show my face in town,” said Francie.
Velma nodded, examining the backside of a platter. “At least there’s something they’re not trying to blame on poor old Robert.”
I stopped working and stared down at the top of her perfectly styled hair. “I thought you had come to terms with that, Velma. Are you saying you don’t believe Callie or Hunter?”
“I don’t know what to think. All we know is what they said, and they could both be lying. And, I’d like to point out that just as I predicted, they now have Elise’s killer but I don’t see any cops nosing around here looking for Robert’s murderer.”
“But what about the Rosie notes?” Nina signaled me to hand her more items. “Don’t they substantiate the fact that Robert killed Rosie?”
“Not if Hunter, Eddie, whoever he is, wrote them.” Velma closed a drawer. “There’s no concrete evidence.”
They didn’t know about Martha’s story yet. Nina looked up at me, her eyebrows raised. When I didn’t say anything, she nudged my ankle.
“Well I’m telling them if you’re not!” Nina said.
In a way, I hated for Martha’s story to get around town. She had enough troubles with Max. On the other hand, her story did back up what Hunter had told us, so it was only fair for Velma to know. “Go ahead,” I said.
I shuffled over to the next cabinet and opened it while Nina relayed the sad story about Martha’s broken engagement.
“But that d
oesn’t prove anything, either!” Velma threw her hands in the air. “It makes me sad for Martha, but goodness, she wasn’t there. She doesn’t know any more than Wanda did. It could have been Hunter who killed Rosie. Or her own father. Or maybe Rosie had another boyfriend who was jealous.”
Francie shrugged. “Velma, I’m not sure there will ever be enough proof for you.”
“That day when Callie told us about Robert murdering Livy, I could hardly take it,” Velma said. “The mere thought was just unbearable. But the next morning I realized that she lies. She makes up stories to entertain people. Who marries two thoroughly odious men and has to run away from them?”
“She didn’t make up that scar,” I noted.
“Who knows where she got that? It could have been in a car accident for all we know. Same with the picture. Maybe she worked for Robert. It doesn’t mean anything more than that. I think she’s had a hard life and she invents stories to make it more interesting. And then she went and got Hunter involved in her nonsense.”
Francie regarded her friend with sadness. I gathered Francie didn’t agree with Velma’s take on things.
“I’m starving.” Nina finished filling up a box. “How about we take a lunch break?”
“We could eat out on the patio in the back.” Francie looked out the window in the back door. “It’s such a nice day with the sun shining and that blue sky. Won’t be long before it’s too cold to eat outside.”
I climbed down and peered into the garden. “Nina, if you bring us some lunch, I’ll rake up the leaves. It’s a mess back there.”
“Would you, dear?” Velma gazed around. “I think I saw some of those leaf bags. Here they are!”
The four of us ventured outside. Daisy, Duke, and Peanut seemed happy to have a new place to sniff around. Francie and Velma settled at the table, and Nina left to buy lunch.
Francie turned her face up to the sun. “I never imagined cleaning out a house would take so long. You should have just marked prices on everything and had a garage sale right in the house. That way everyone would have had to cart their stuff off themselves.”
I found a rake in a little storage corner and filled two bags quickly. The patio was small. I would be done in no time. I pulled the rake along the edge of the brick wall nearest the house. Something glinted in the sunlight. I peered closer and moved leaves aside until I saw it again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Dear Natasha,
I am brokenhearted because movers dropped a box and my collection of china was shattered. All I have left is shards! I don’t have the heart to throw them away. Any suggestions?
—Sad in Broken Bow, Oklahoma
Dear Sad,
Make a mosaic! I’ve seen them on walls and floors. Depending on the location, it won’t matter if all the pieces aren’t flat. Or make mosaic stepping stones out of them with concrete. They’ll be stunning!
—Natasha
I picked it up. It was glossy white on one side and bent at almost a forty-five-degree angle. The edges were rough where it had broken. I flipped it over and knew in an instant what it was and to whom it probably belonged. The gorgeous flowers and gold trim couldn’t have been anything else.
“What have you got there?” Velma craned her neck to see.
“A piece of china.” I was sorry I’d handled it. I hurried into the kitchen and found a plastic grocery bag. Not perfect, but it was better than nothing. I slid my hand into it like a glove.
I returned to the patio and showed the shard to Velma and Francie. “It’s Schumann. I’m certain of it.”
Francie sat up and peered at it. “I think you’re right. Isn’t this what Martha collects?”
“I’m not surprised,” Velma said. “She has such exquisite taste. What a shame that a piece broke. I’d like to have this china pattern.”
I wasn’t quite ready to tell them what I was thinking. I left the shard on the table and raked more, watching for any other pieces. Sure enough, two of them turned up. Someone had dropped a Schumann soup bowl on the brick floor of the patio.
Before I let myself jump to conclusions, I ventured into the house and had a look at the breakfront in the dining room. It was loaded with crystal, china, and silver. Not particularly surprising for the owner of an antiques store. I opened the upper doors and searched for any sign of a Schumann plate or compote. Nothing. I looked inside the lower cabinets. Still nothing.
Yet someone had dropped a piece on the patio. From the looks of the shards, I thought it had happened recently. They didn’t show much dirt.
I called Wolf.
“Hi. How are you feeling? I heard you had quite a night.”
At least he was being friendly today. “I’m fine, thanks,” I said.
“Where on earth did that little boy get a halberd? I had to look it up. They haven’t been used in centuries, except for ceremonial stuff.”
“A gift from Bernie’s mother. I’m sure she never expected anyone would actually use it. How’s Max doing?”
“He won’t be sitting down for a while. He’s still in the hospital.”
“Has he confessed?” I asked.
“Denies everything,” Wolf said. “He’s clammed up and wants a lawyer.”
“Wolf, I found some shards of china in Robert’s backyard. Do you think they could be tested for botulism? Would there be remnants on them?”
“Outdoors? In the weather?” He sounded doubtful. “Maybe. They tell me it’s hard to kill. Why do you think they might have botulism on them?”
“Because they’re the china pattern that Martha Carter collects, and I found them on Robert’s patio.”
“Are they rare?”
“Not particularly. A lot of people have a piece or two. But this looks to be a soup bowl. The sort of thing someone would have if she owned an entire set.”
“Sophie . . .” From the sound of his voice, I could tell he thought I was being ridiculous. “The health department went through Robert’s kitchen.”
“I think Martha must have dropped it on her way out. Maybe something alarmed her or she slipped or was just nervous. But in the dark she didn’t see all the pieces and then leaves blew over them.”
“Yeah, all right.” He let out a sigh.
“You’ll do it?”
“Only because we’re hitting walls on the source of the botulism. Not because I think we’ll find anything.”
“Thanks for your confidence.”
“Just being honest. Don’t get your hopes up.”
He agreed to pick them up at Robert’s house. When he arrived, I showed him where I found them.
Nina had returned and offered him a slice of pizza. “We have barbecued chicken and Chicago-style meat lovers!”
He selected a slice of the meat-lovers pizza but didn’t sit down. “Thanks. Nice house.”
“Want to buy it? It’s going up for sale,” said Velma.
“Probably not in my budget.”
Velma looked at him with resignation. “Thank you for coming out here to get those pieces of china. I’m overjoyed that someone is finally looking into the circumstances of Robert’s death.” Velma sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want to believe that he was an evil man. And I can’t bear to imagine that my darling sister died at his hand. I’ve been thinking about it sitting out here where he probably sat and reflected on his life. Whatever the truth is about Robert, it’s best to know. If he was the fiendish man they say, then I was the fool to be suckered in by him. But the truth always comes out in the end, doesn’t it? It’s time we knew.”
Francie patted her friend’s hand. “That’s very brave of you.”
Wolf thanked us for the pizza and promised to let us know the results as soon as he could.
After lunch, we tackled the breakfront. I handled everything very carefully because most of it was antique. I recognized
the frosted appearance of Lalique in the shape of a lion and asked Nina, “Are you sure you have a grip on it?” before I let go.
“That was one of Livy’s favorites,” exclaimed Velma. “Maybe I should send it to auction. I bet it will bring in a lot of dough.”
I reached up and pulled out a crystal sailing ship with three masts and rectangular sails. “This doesn’t look like an antique, but the detail is incredible.” I handed it to Nina carefully.
She set it on the dining table.
Velma admired it. “Hunter asked me about a sailing ship. A necklace or something. Robert must have had a thing for these old-timey sailing vessels.”
The dining table filled quickly. I stopped emptying the breakfront to help the others wrap, pack, and label the boxes.
By midafternoon, everyone except Peanut was beat. Nina and I walked Velma and Francie home.
“I’m so bushed. I’m ordering takeout tonight. Francie, how about you?” asked Nina.
“I’m in. Is it just me or is it getting colder? Brrr. I’m not going far tonight.”
“How about that rotisserie chicken?” I asked.
“The one with that comes with three sauces? I love that stuff. Not sure I want to know what’s in them, but they’re so good!”
“My house at six?” I asked.
“I’ll order the chicken,” said Nina.
We split up and went to our respective homes with our dogs. I walked into my kitchen and found Bernie and Mars lounging by the fire. “Hi, guys.”
“Martha Carter dropped this off for you.” Bernie pointed to a package wrapped in cellophane and tied with a golden bow.
I opened it with Mochie looking on, curious about the crackling cellophane. Inside was a perfect Bundt cake with a sugary drizzle over it. The card read I will never be able to apologize sufficiently. Yours truly, Martha Carter.
Mars grabbed a knife and aimed it at the cake.
I seized his arm. “No!”
“You don’t want to share? You can’t eat that whole thing.”