A Purse to Die For

by Melodie Campbell; Cynthia St-Pierre

  "Nellie, I 'm Detective Dumont. How 're you?"

  "Fine."

  "Did your mom tell you what happened?"

  "Yes."

  "Will you answer some questions for me?"

  "Okay."

  He got up, pushed his chair back and walked down one side of the room. She didn 't follow him with her eyes. Didn 't want to.

  "Did you notice anything different about last night?" he asked, his voice coming now from the back of the room.

  "Last night it was thundering and lightning out, " she said.

  Mom nodded, smiled at her and squeezed her hand as if saying, 'You 're doing fine.'

  "Anything else?"

  "Couldn 't sleep."

  "Why couldn 't you sleep?" he asked, his voice floating across from the other side of the room.

  "Scared."

  "Of what?"

  "Lightning ." Duh.

  "Did you hear anything out of the ordinary?"

  "Where?"

  "Anywhere."

  "The grown-ups downstairs. We had company."

  "What were the grown-ups doing?

  "Eating, drinking, talking and stuff."

  "Did anyone come up and see you?"

  "Not after Mom tucked me in."

  Detective Dumont slumped back into his chair. "If I show you a picture of a woman, would you be able to tell me if you 've seen her before?"

  "Guess so."

  He passed a picture to Mom, who examined it carefully, like when she looked through books Nellie picked out at the library before they checked them out. She passed the picture to Nellie .

  Because Mom had said some strange lady was found at the end of their property, Nellie expected it to be a picture of someone she didn 't know. Someone she 'd never seen. But when she glanced at the picture, she jumped in her seat and a noise flew out from the back of her throat. She suddenly didn 't want to hold the photo. Her hand wobbled when she handed the picture back to Detective Dumont.

  "Recognize her?"

  She remembered the night when she woke up and waited for Mom to come in and check on her . The bedroom door had creaked open and light from the hall shone on the heavy curtains covering her window and the foot of her bed where her animals were lined up , and the blank wall beside her bed where Mom 's silhouette projected like a shadow puppet growing larger as she approached the bed . Not turning her head —because she was supposed to be asleep —Nellie had opened her eyes just a bit and found some other woman lean ing over her.

  "Ahhh!"

  Nellie thought she'd better not say the other woman looked as surprised in the photo as when Nellie yelled, "I want Mom!"

  But the detective prodded, "You have something you want to say?"

  She shook her head.

  "Tell me, " he said, his voice rising.

  Mom frowned at him. Mom never let anyone, not even Father, raise his voice at her.

  "Can I ask a question?" Nellie wondered.

  "Of course."

  She pointed. "That 's a picture of the lady you found outside?"

  "Yes."

  In a voice that sounded wavery, even to her, she asked, "She 's dead?"

  Chapter 11

  The room grew thick with tension. Nellie pretended to concentrate. She frowned for effect . "I think she came to the house once. I saw her ring the doorbell, but nobody else was home, so I didn 't answer."

  "How long ago was this?" the big man asked.

  Nellie shrugged. "Maybe two weeks ago?"

  "Hon, you never told me, " Carla scolded.

  "Wasn 't nothing to tell. You told me to never answer the door. So I didn 't."

  "What time of day was this?"

  "Right after school." The fibbing was getting easier. "You were with Grandma at the stores . I don 't know where Father was."

  "Was she carrying anything?" the detective asked.

  "Can 't remember. I only saw her from the upstairs window." She tried to act disinterested.

  "What day of the week was this, Nellie?"

  "Can 't remember."

  "If it was two weeks ago, that must have been Thursday, " Carla said . "I took Mom to the dentist . We were away longer than usual."

  "Was it Thursday, Nellie?"

  "Maybe. Don 't know." Nellie looked down at the floor. "Can I go now?"

  "Rob Dumont. Who would believe it?" Tony said as he sat with Gina in the kitchen, waiting to be interviewed.

  "Is that a good thing?" She had a good reason for asking.

  "It should be . I 've known him for years, although I haven 't seen him in about five. He 's smart and level-headed, which is a blessing in a cop. Don 't you remember playing Beckon with him and the other local kids in the summer?"

  Gina nodded. Those early days were wonderful times. The older boys taking control like they were minor gods. Everyone playing together outside until the streetlights came on.

  Tony smiled. His eyes had a dreamy look, as if they were sifting back through long-ago visions.

  "He was about a year older than me. So , yeah, you would have been a little squirt at the time. He was a big, good-natured kid and I hung with him for years. He taught me how to smoke behind the garage." Tony smiled at the memory.

  They sat quietly for a moment.

  "I remember when he got accepted into the force , " Tony said . "I was here for spring break and we had one hell of a whoop-up at the Tap Room in town. I had to get three guys to help me carry him home."

  "I remember him. I think he used to like me a little." Gina twisted a napkin around her fingers.

  "You 're kidding!"

  Gina looked away. "You weren 't always here when I was."

  Tony frowned. "He didn 't try anything, did he?"

  "He never asked me out, per se. But sometimes when I was fourteen or fifteen, he would show up with wildflowers and take me for walks." Silly thing to say . I sound like a dog, being taken for walks.

  "Bloody hell. Good thing I didn 't know. I would have knocked his block off."

  "He was rather sweet about it ." Until he wasn 't.

  "Well, he never told me." Tony sounded like he 'd been betrayed. "He was too damn scared to tell me."

  Or maybe just careful, Gina concluded. Darned if she could ever comprehend why males acted the way they did. Surely, if she had dated a friend of Tony 's, it would be a good thing.

  The clock ticked. Gina forced herself to the present. She hated what was next to come. Soon they would all be interviewed individually and she 'd have to go in without Tony.

  She shivered. "You say he 's smart. Will he be kind?"

  "He 'll be fair . He 'll want evidence and he won 't jump to conclusions. And that 's what we need now."

  A tall, lanky policeman came to the doorway and signalled for Tony.

  "Back in a few minutes, " he said. Then suddenly, as if compelled—as if taking a giant step toward something unknown—he reached down and kissed her. Then he was gone.

  Gina sat, nursing her coffee. She felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Everything was moving forward, and she was being sucked along in the wake, helpless.

  She remembered Rob Dumont. She remembered him very well, indeed. And she certainly hadn 't told Tony everything.

  "Tony. Long time, no see." Rob Dumont reached forward to shake hands , hoping his old friend wasn 't involved. Tony 's grasp was firm.

  "Sorry it took something like this to get us together , Dumont . And congratulations on the promotion." Tony sat down.

  "Thanks ." Dumont 's eyebrow lifted in appraisal. "You still work out, I see."

  Tony laughed. "Remember those comic book ads we used to mull over? How to become a He-man—Atlas, something?"

  Dumont grinned. "Yeah, I remember. Never worked for me, but I guess you have to keep at it." He was quiet for a minute. "Tony, what do you know about this?"

  "Not much. Gina—you remember Gina, of course?"

  Dumont nodded. He would never forget Gina. That was his curse. The years seemed to melt
away as he visualized a pretty young girl with brown curls and hazel-green eyes. His heart heaved a bit.

  "Gina was out for a run, " Tony continued, "and I went out to wait for her in the garden. I got as far as the woods and found my mother sitting on a bench in shock. You 've seen the site. The body was on the ground about ten feet away. Didn 't look like it 'd been moved."

  Dumont frowned. To trust, or not? He made up his mind. "It wasn 't."

  "Body was cold , Dumont . Rigor was over far as I could tell. I checked that to be sure. Didn 't want to disturb the scene."

  "This isn 't anything to do with you, is it , Tony ?"

  Tony's head snapped up. "No."

  Dumont stared at him. "Are you still working for—?"

  Tony leaned forward. "I 'm an architect. You know that. It allows me to do a lot of travel."

  So that's how things were. Dumont had expected as much. "Gotcha. So, it 's not about anything you 're doing now."

  Tony shook his head. "Never seen the woman before. She wasn 't carrying. And the fact she was killed by a whack on the head…"

  "You mean if it had been a gunshot or a ligature —"

  "Yeah. Not premeditated." Tony leaned back in the chair.

  Therefore, not an assassin. That 's what Tony was trying to tell him. And that was good. It meant the case was still his , instead of the Fed 's.

  "So …w hy on your property, do you think?"

  Tony shrugged. "I don 't know if it 's connected to the family or not , b ut there 's something you might want to look into."

  Dumont sat up .

  "You know we 're all here for the funeral. My grandmother 's death was a bit of a shock. She had recently inherited eight million dollars . A nd yes, I knew about it. I 'm not entirely satisfied she went as the doctor claims. I suggest you check into it."

  Dumont scratched his chin . "You think she was —"

  "Before you ask, I don 't know what this woman had to do wi th the family , if anything . But we 've always been straight with each other before. I 'll help you as much as I can. That goes without saying."

  "That means you don 't suspect your mother or Gina." Dumont smiled.

  "Mom has arthritis. You 'll find that out soon. She can hardly walk with a cane, let alone wield a bat. And Gina…" Tony 's voice soft ened, though there was an edge to it. A threat.

  Dumont rose from behind the desk. "I understand. There 's a murderer loose. You 're here to protect her. We 'll do our best."

  Tony gave a curt nod. "Come get me after you interview the others. I think it 's best you get your own picture first. Then we can talk. I 'll be around."

  The interview was over for now.

  Tony stood up and held out his hand again. Dumont took it.

  As Tony headed toward the door , Dumont said, "You carrying?"

  Tony turned slowly and smiled. "Always."

  Chapter 12

  "It 's my job to decide the order of witnesses, " Detective Dumont replied.

  "Just saying…weren 't Tony, Mandy, Gina and Becki the ones on the scene?"

  "My job to ask the questions ." He frowned, but the tic at the corner of his mouth told Carla he was holding back a more pleasant expression. "Plus, I did talk to your nephew."

  "When?"

  "After my interview with Nellie, " he said. "You were probably getting her set up with some new activity."

  She didn't change her outward posture, but on the inside, she let herself relax a little. It 's not like the d etective thought she was the one who bashed the other woman 's brains in. And if her daughter could handle being interrogated, for heaven 's sake, she could too . Besides, she knew Detective Dumont way back when he was just "Rob, " a neighbourhood kid. It was he who had recentl y handled Mother's death . Now, as then, he didn 't appear nearly as badass as Reggie.

  "You saw the picture of the victim, " Dumont said. "Do you know her? Have you seen her before?"

  "Never."

  "Your daughter said she came to the house."

  "When we were gone."

  "And the reason for her visit?"

  "How should I know?"

  "Humour me."

  "Avon calling?"

  Dumont smiled in spite of himself. "Any more brainwaves?"

  "Isn 't coming up with brainwaves your job, like deciding the order of witnesses and asking the questions?"

  Detective Dumont cleared his throat. "She shows up at your front door one day. Dies practically on your back lawn on another. Explain that."

  "Coincidence."

  "Right. Hear anything last night? Anything going on in your home before or after? Anything happening in the area?"

  "We were and still are rather preoccupied with Mother passing away, " she said, thinking that would set him straight and end his interrogation of her and the rest of her family.

  "Right. I want to talk about your mother 's death—"

  Which instantly shot her back to her previous state. "What?" she demanded before he could even finish his sentence.

  "Two deaths at the same address in less than a week."

  "You 've got to be kidding! You think they 're related ?" She rose from her chair. "Mom didn 't want anyone to know she had cancer. But I ended up telling my family—afterwards." She took a big gulp of air and continued, "That woman out there have cancer? 'Cause that 's not what I understood to be her cause of death!" She whirled and stalked out.

  Becki fully understood the importance of the first forty-eight hours, however unpleasant it was to report to Detective Dumont, whose sole intent was to dig up dirt in a case that couldn 't be anything other than murder.

  "So, you arrive here in Langdon Hills and people drop like flies, " he said.

  "I beg your pardon!"

  How could he know people dropped dead around her in Black Currant Bay too ? The main difference between here and there being that , in Black Currant Bay, she was the one asking questions. Mind you, never in any official capacity.

  "Tell me everything you can about what you 've seen and heard since you 've been here, " he said .

  "To tell the truth, something bothered me right off the bat —t hat Godmom was found with a pillow over her head."

  "Ms. Green, in my experience dead bodies are found in the oddest positions, sometimes crowned with the strangest belongings."

  "And in Godmom 's case, you don 't consider it an indication of foul play?"

  "Who 's interviewing who here?"

  "Sorry."

  "To answer your question, no . That 's not how I read the scene at the time."

  She noted his use of the phrase 'at the time.'

  "What have you observed since then?" he asked.

  "The controversy of Godmom 's will. No doubt you 've taken a look at it. She left the bulk of her larger -than -expected estate to her grandkids and skipped a generation. Her eldest, Jerry, was visibly upset. Next day, he and his wife had a meeting with the lawyer. But most surprising, Detective, is that Tony is adopted or something . No one knew about it beforehand. Not even Tony. Weird, don 't you think?"

  "Not weird, but interesting." He tapped his hand steadily on the desk. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Anyway, here are my last few questions . For now. Did you recognize the victim when you saw her, and can you think of any connection she might have with this neighbourhood or with the Ferrero family?"

  "Heavens, no!"

  After the interview, she felt shaky. Must be from skipping breakfast. Because the session with Detective Dumont went as well as could be expected. To all appearances, he was a professional.

  Cute too .

  "Mom! Please ."

  She wobbled in the direction of the kitchen.

  And French.

  "God ." She groaned. Or was that her stomach?

  Don't tell me you didn 't notice. I know you have this thing for accents.

  "Detective Dumont doesn 't have an accent, Mom."

  But he's French . Dumont.

  "Fifty years old, remember? Old enough to be his mom. Oh, hi, Gina!"


  Chapter 13

  Linda leaned back in the chair and crossed her slim legs. "Got a light?"

  Rob shook his head. Now here was a very attractive woman. Mutton dressed as lamb, his mother would say, but attractive all the same. Not that she didn 't work at it.

  Linda sighed and reached for her purse. She pulled out a lighter and snapped it open. "That 's the trouble with everyone these days. Nobody smokes."

  "Mrs. Ferrero, I 'd like to ask you a few questions ."

  "Call me Linda."

  "Okay, Linda. You are staying at the house?"

  "Yes, " she said, blowing out smoke. "It 's ghastly, but why pay for a hotel room?"

  "Where were you last night, say, from ten o 'clock on?"

  "I was doing a facial from ten until about ten-thirty, then got dressed for bed. I didn 't leave the bedroom until nine the next morning, if that 's what you 're getting at."

  "Was your husband with you the whole time?"

  "I don 't know when he came in. But he slept in the bed beside me and was gone before I got up. He 's an early riser. I 'm not." She gave him a haughty smile .

  Rob sighed. He saw all types , working for the force , and pampered women were not his favourite. At least she wasn 't a cougar.

  "Had you ever seen the victim before?"

  Linda dragged on the cigarette. "I haven 't seen her ever ."

  "I 'm sorry—here 's a photo."

  Linda took it and squinted. "Not anyone I know." She handed it back.

  "I guess that 's all for now."

  "You know where to find me." She gave the briefest smile of dismissal and then swept out.

  Linda took the last of her cigarette out to the front porch. She was bothered.

  That photo. Sh e had spoken the truth to that handsome policeman. She had never seen the victim in that photo before. The woman didn 't look like a secretary, but who could tell?

  Who was the bitch? Did Jerry have anything to do with this? Was he up to his old tricks?

  She sucked hard on the butt , then threw it on the stone sidewalk. She hadn 't sensed any new woman and she was getting pretty good at telling the signs. Late nights at work…last minute business trips. This was something she would have to look into further. Sort through the Visa slips at home.