by Joyce Tremel
“He was nice enough, but I had no interest in dating him,” Melody continued. “I mean, you saw him. He wasn’t exactly my type. I was a foot taller than he was, and he certainly wasn’t good-looking. But there was something about him.”
As vicious as some of Mobley’s reviews had been, I couldn’t reconcile what seemed like two different aspects to his personality. I didn’t know which one was the real Reginald Mobley. I mentioned this to Melody.
“It’s true,” she said. “He could be very harsh in his reviews. I asked him about it once and he said it was his job to be mean. People didn’t want to read good reviews, so even if he liked a place, he trashed it anyway. He said the restaurants got more business from bad reviews than good ones.”
I didn’t think that was true. People paid attention to reviews. Bad ones, especially those written by her husband, had caused more than one restaurant to close. He’d obviously told her what she wanted to hear. I kept that to myself. I wasn’t going to antagonize her now.
Melody returned to her story. “Reggie asked me out several times, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
“Dwayne talked me into it.”
Why was I not surprised to hear that?
“Dwayne stopped at the casino one night when I was working. I was serving a drink to Reggie at the blackjack table and he was flirting with me like he usually did. Dwayne recognized him right away. Later on, he told me I was crazy for not going out with Reggie, about how influential he was. He went on and on about how Reggie could advance his career. I started to see him a little differently after that and the next time he asked me out, I accepted.”
“What was Dwayne’s relationship like with him?” I asked.
Melody examined her French manicure before she answered. “I always thought it was good, but lately . . . Reggie was avoiding him. If Dwayne came over for dinner, Reggie would be out. If Dwayne called to talk to him, I had to tell my brother he wasn’t home. Things like that.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Since Reggie died, Dwayne has been overbearing. I can’t leave the house without him asking me where I’m going, who I’m seeing, you name it.”
“And that’s unusual?”
There was a flash of anger in her eyes again. “You bet it is. I made the mistake of letting him stay in our guest room because he said he was only looking out for me. Well, I found out that’s not true. He’s been lying to me all along.”
My heart beat a little faster. This was what I’d been waiting for. “What did you find out?”
“I went looking for him yesterday morning. I thought he was still at my house, so I knocked and went into his room. It’s my guest room, in my house, so I had the right to go in there.” She sounded like she had to defend herself. “The room was a mess. Dwayne has always been a bit of a slob. He doesn’t think twice about dropping things wherever he feels like. I started straightening up and noticed his checkbook was on the bedside table. I couldn’t help myself.” Her cheeks reddened again. “I had to look at it.”
My phone chimed with a text message. It was Jake. “Hold that thought,” I told her. Jake wanted to know where I was and if everything was okay. I responded that I was fine, I was talking to Melody, and I’d fill him in as soon as I got back. I apologized to Melody for the interruption and asked her to continue.
“There were a lot of entries of deposits in my brother’s account from Reggie over the past year. I didn’t take the time to add them all up, but it had to come to more than ten thousand dollars.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I don’t know what it means, but I don’t think it’s good. Otherwise Reggie would have told me.”
“Did you ask Dwayne about it?”
“No. I didn’t want him to know I was snooping,” she said. “But I came down here with him yesterday to help him out and all he could talk about was you, and how you thought Reggie’s death was your business just because you solved another . . . murder.” She shuddered. “I hate that word. I hate to think someone really killed my Reggie.”
I was beginning to see Melody in a new light. Unless this was all a big act—which I didn’t think it was—she really did love her husband.
She went on. “Dwayne warned me to stay far away from you. To never talk to you.” She gave me a slight smile. “Which made me think that you were exactly who I needed to talk to.”
“And that’s why you came looking for me yesterday.”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that. I don’t understand what happened.”
I had a good idea what had transpired, and Dwayne had better have a good answer when I asked him about it.
I wanted to get back to the entries in Dwayne’s checkbook. I remembered someone mentioning they’d been business partners. “Is it possible those deposits in Dwayne’s account were because your husband was just helping him out? Maybe an interest in his business?”
Melody shook her head. “No. Because of Reggie’s position, he couldn’t play favorites. Dwayne wanted him to be a partner in his brewery and Reggie told him flat-out no, that he couldn’t be involved in anything to do with the restaurant business.”
We talked for a few more minutes, but Melody didn’t have any idea why her husband had been giving money to Dwayne. As I headed back to my booth, I was sure I knew the reason. Dwayne had been blackmailing Reginald Mobley. And I thought I might know why.
* * *
The line at our booth was long when I got back. Jake seemed to be enjoying himself, but I could tell he was glad to get some help. Thirty minutes later, the line became a trickle and I finally got the chance to tell him about Melody.
Jake’s expression was grim. “I should have a little talk with her scumbag brother. If he really drugged his sister—hell, if he drugged anybody at all—someone needs to do something.”
“And someone will. We can’t let him know we suspect anything—especially if he killed his brother-in-law. I’ll talk to my dad and tell him the whole story. In the meantime, we’ll just keep an eye on him.”
Mike arrived at four as promised and he brought reinforcements with him. I was surprised and happy to see both Mom and Dad. I was even more pleased that my brother Sean was with them.
“Hey, Maxie,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. Sean was the only person I permitted to call me that. “How’s my baby sister?”
“Glad to see you, big brother,” I said. “No Mass tonight?”
He grinned. “Well, there is, but I’m not saying it.”
I smacked him on the arm. “Very funny.”
He told us the parish was hosting a visiting priest from Kenya and the deacon was assisting him tonight, giving him the evening off.
Mike interrupted. “Hey, bro. Enough with the chitchat. I thought you were going to help me pour these samples.”
“I will.” Then to me he said, “I’m going to help Mike while you, Jake, Mom, and Dad go get some dinner.”
I protested, but both of my brothers insisted that they’d been planning this for days and we were to get out of their hair.
“They’re not going to take no for an answer,” Dad said. “We may as well go eat.”
We walked up the street to Primanti’s, famous for putting fries and coleslaw on the sandwich instead of beside it. We only had to wait fifteen minutes for a table and as soon as we’d placed our orders, I told my parents about my talk with Melody today.
Mom shook her head. “That poor girl.”
“I’ll have to talk to both of them again,” Dad said. “I’ll see about a subpoena to get Tunstall’s bank records. Mobley’s records showed some cash withdrawals, so we’ll have to see if they line up.”
“There’s more,” Jake said. He told them about his father’s revelation that Reginald Mobley had been Ronald Moore.
Our food arrived then and between bites I told them what I had been thinking. “I think Dwayne knew about
what had happened with the restaurant. He knew Mobley’s former name and identity, so I’ll bet he was blackmailing his brother-in-law to keep quiet. And neither one of them wanted Melody to know about any of it.”
“That’s not a bad theory,” Dad said. “It would explain the payments to Tunstall.”
“There could be another explanation,” Jake said.
Mom wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Like what?”
Jake brought up the letters that Mobley had written that had led to Cory’s and Randy’s brewpub-application denials. I’d totally forgotten about them. If Dwayne knew about it, that could be another reason for him to blackmail Mobley. This was getting entirely too complicated.
Dad had a plan, though. He would interview Dwayne again and ask him about the payments. I worried it would give Melody away, but he assured me he wouldn’t mention the fact that she had seen his checkbook. He could make it sound like the evidence was in Mobley’s bank records.
We ordered a couple of sandwiches to take back for Mike and Sean, then took a leisurely stroll up Smallman Street and back to the festival. Fortunately my brothers had done a great job holding down the fort, even though the line was long. The aisles were packed with people and it looked like everyone had long lines. I glanced over to Dwayne’s booth and was shocked to see that Melody was helping him out. I had assumed she’d go home after our talk, or at the very least avoid her brother.
Jake and I moved out from under the tent to talk to the people waiting in line while the rest of the family poured. I found it interesting that more than a few of those we talked to were from out of town and visiting the city. There had been a time when no one would have pegged Pittsburgh for a vacation destination. Things had certainly changed over the last few years. I’d just introduced myself to a man from Texas when a bloodcurdling yell for help cut through the air.
It sounded like Dwayne.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jake and I pushed our way through the crowd, reaching Dwayne’s tent in seconds. Dad was right behind us. Dwayne was kneeling beside Melody, who lay on the ground. There was a plastic water bottle on the ground beside her. “Do something!” he cried. “Someone do something!”
He turned and I was able to get a better look at his sister. The sandwich I’d just eaten became a brick in my stomach. Melody’s skin was cherry red and her lips were blue, just as her husband’s had been. Dad felt her neck for a pulse, then shook his head. There was nothing anyone could do for her. Jake’s arms went around me and pulled me close.
The next few minutes were a blur. I heard Dad on his phone, Sean praying, and Dwayne sobbing. Paramedics had arrived within seconds of the call and they attempted to revive her, but it was fruitless. The off-duty cops who were working the festival cordoned off the area. Mom took Dwayne by the arm and guided him to one of the camp chairs that Mike had placed just outside our canopy.
Sean came over to Jake and me and asked if we were all right. I wiped a tear away that I hadn’t realized I’d shed until I’d felt the wetness on my cheek. “I’m okay,” I said. “Dwayne might need you, though.” I tried to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off. “Some day off, huh?”
“You should know by now that priests and police officers are never really off duty.” He squeezed my arm. “I’ll go and talk to him.”
“We should go over there, too,” I said to Jake.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” He sounded angry.
“Why not?” I looked up at him.
“Because I’ll be tempted to beat the crap out of that lowlife.”
It suddenly hit me why he felt that way. “You don’t think . . .”
“Who else?” Jake said. “His sister conveniently dies drinking poisoned water in his tent hours after she talks to you when he ordered her not to. We already think he slipped her something yesterday. It’s not a stretch to think he killed her.”
Oh my God. That hadn’t even crossed my mind. I looked over to where Dwayne was sitting. He leaned forward in the chair with his head in his hands. My mother had a hand on his shoulder. I watched as Sean stooped down and talked to him. Dwayne nodded at whatever Sean said. I turned back to Jake. “He seems so devastated. Do you think it’s all an act?”
“It has to be. It’s the only thing that fits. Who else would want to kill Melody?”
I glanced back at Dwayne. It was possible, but I wasn’t convinced Jake was right. “You can stay here if you want, but I’m going over to talk to him.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Not really, but I need to. I owe that much to Melody.”
Jake nodded and kissed me on the forehead. “Be careful.”
I avoided looking toward Dwayne’s booth as I passed. I’d have enough trouble getting the image of Melody lying on the ground out of my mind. I wanted to remember the beautiful woman she’d been earlier and not how she was in death.
Dwayne was still leaning forward in his seat when I reached him. Mom and Sean stood talking a few feet away. Now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what to say to him. “I’m sorry for your loss” didn’t seem like the right thing. I took a deep breath. “Dwayne?”
He raised his head. “It’s all my fault.”
Was this a confession? “Why do you say that?”
“I warned her to stay away. She wouldn’t listen to me. If she had, she wouldn’t be . . .” He swallowed hard. “Oh God. I can’t even say it.”
“I talked to Melody this morning,” I said.
Dwayne leaned back and blew out air. His eyes were bloodshot from crying. “I know.”
“You know?”
“She told me. She never was very good at keeping secrets. That’s why I was trying to protect her. I tried so hard to protect her.”
He wasn’t making any sense. “Protect her from what?”
“From that.” He pointed to his booth. “If she would have stayed home like I told her to, she’d be alive. I’d be the one lying over there, not her.”
I was more confused than ever. “I don’t understand.”
“Melody would be alive and I would be dead because that water bottle was left there for me.”
“You don’t know that, Dwayne.”
“Yes, I do. It was for me.”
He sounded so sure of himself.
Dwayne’s gaze went past me. “We’ll have to talk more later.”
I turned around to see what he was looking at. Dad and Vince were heading this way. I had hoped Dad’s partner had better things to do, but he was probably thrilled to have another murder to investigate. And would probably try to find a way to blame me and Jake.
Dwayne grabbed my arm. “Don’t say anything about what I just told you. They can’t find out. Not yet.”
I didn’t get the chance to say I couldn’t make any promises before Dad and Vince reached us. Dad told Dwayne they needed to ask him some questions, so I made my leave. Vince didn’t say a word, but it was apparent he was playing second fiddle to Dad and wasn’t happy about it. I noticed Ginger standing in the aisle not too far from Dave’s tent, so I headed that way, ignoring questions from bystanders asking what was going on. I was surprised that vendors farther down the aisle were still serving beer. I had assumed everything would be shut down, especially with a second murder.
“You’re not closing the festival?” I asked Ginger when I reached her.
She shook her head. “I thought it was better to proceed as normal. There’s nothing to gain by sending all these people home. I’m telling them someone had a medical emergency and it’s nothing to worry about.”
It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Nothing to worry about? A woman is dead, probably killed by the same person who killed her husband, and you say that’s nothing to worry about?”
Ginger had the good grace to blush. “I meant there’s nothing for the festival a
ttendees to worry about. They’re perfectly safe.”
“What if they’re not?” I said. “You’re selling bottled water, aren’t you? What if there are other poisoned bottles out there?”
“That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with ours.”
“You can’t possibly know that.” Unless she was the one who’d poisoned the water. But why would she do that? I didn’t know what her motive could be, or why she would take the chance of ruining something she’d worked so hard to get off the ground.
“The truth is,” she said, “I can’t afford to send anyone away. When Reginald was killed and we closed early that day, plus the rainout yesterday, I had to refund a lot of money to a lot of irate people. I can’t do it again. Even though we’re charging admission, I put a good portion of my own resources into this and I can’t lose any more. I just can’t.”
“I see,” I said, although I really didn’t. In her eyes, the cash was more important than any lives lost.
A man came over just then and asked Ginger if she was the one in charge, then wanted to know what was going on. She plastered a smile on her face and began her “medical emergency” spiel. As I walked away, Dave waved me over.
“She shutting us down?” he asked. I told him what she’d said and he shook his head. “What happened exactly? I know Mobley’s wife died, but that’s it.”
“Melody was poisoned, just like her husband had been.” I didn’t care what Ginger was telling everyone—I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
“Man, that’s a shame,” he said. “How’s Dwayne taking it?”
“As well as can be expected. He’s pretty broken up.”
“Poor guy,” Dave said.
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for the little weasel.”
That was an interesting perspective. “My dad is interviewing him now.”
The medical examiner’s van pulled up behind Dwayne’s booth. I couldn’t help but wonder how Ginger was going to explain that one away. Dave and I watched until they took Melody’s body away. Dave turned back to me. “You don’t think Dwayne could be the killer, do you?”