by Joy Avon
He lowered the phone and looked at her. “Is that coffee about ready?”
“Sure.” Callie got to her feet and filled two mugs, handing him his. As their fingers touched, Ace smiled at her again. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. He tilted his head. “What’s that for?”
“Just because I’m happy to see you.”
He grinned. “Same here.” He pulled her over to sit on his lap. She leaned her head against his, and they just sat there, listening to the vague sounds coming in from outside, a car in the distance, singing birds.
Then Ace said, “I can’t stick around much longer.”
“I know, just a minute or two.” Callie wrapped her arms around his neck. “I see too little of you. You’re always working.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I can solve this murder quickly. Got a suspect in the interrogation room now who checks all the boxes.”
Callie studied his excited expression. “Means, motive, opportunity?”
Ace nodded. “Means is easy. Those scissors were lying around for anyone to grab. Motive can be found in the argument the suspect had with the victim. And opportunity—”
The word argument made a little jerk pass through Callie’s body. “Who did you arrest?” she asked with an unsettling feeling in her stomach.
“Sean Strong, the baritone.”
Callie sat up. “Really? You established that he did fight with the victim?”
“The victim’s assistant said so. I went to the hotel early to speak with Delacorte, and as soon as he mentioned Strong, I wanted to talk to him. He was staying at the same hotel, so I expected this to be a matter of just knocking on his door and taking a statement. But it turned out he had already left for the airport.” Ace tensed as he spoke. “I went after him with blaring sirens and caught him just as he was about to check in.” Ace looked satisfied. “I took him back in cuffs. King’s assistant said he was rather violent so you never know.”
Callie stared at him. “But are you sure you’re not—”
“Barking up the wrong tree? Definitely not. I just got that call.” Ace patted his pocket where his phone was, his smile of satisfaction deepening. “My colleague told me that they checked with the guy this arrested baritone was supposed to replace—Teal or something.”
“Teak,” Callie corrected. “Simon Teak.”
“Yeah, right. He doesn’t have a throat infection at all. Strong told him it was super important to him to do this performance in Heart’s Harbor. He even paid Teak the fee he would have gotten for it so he could take his place.”
Callie’s heart sank. Strong had come to Heart’s Harbor on purpose. He had wanted to be at the event where the expert came to appraise books. He had pretended he didn’t even know Mr. King, as the TV show he appeared on at Christmastime was virtually unknown in Europe, but apparently he had known him well enough to come out and … confront him?
Yes, their altercation hadn’t been random either, two men colliding and telling each other, heatedly, to watch their step. No. A confrontation after he had consciously looked for it. For a chance to meet up and …
He had lied to them last night. Logically, of course, if he was guilty of murder.
Callie’s chest tightened at the idea that Iphy’s old flame was a murderer. How would she ever work through that? She was already sleeping badly.
“What’s wrong?” Ace asked. His hand brushed her cheek. “You look so pensive.”
“Thing is, Iphy knows Sean Strong from some prior occasion. She didn’t tell me anything about it but I had the impression they were”—she didn’t know exactly how to put it—“close at the time.”
Ace stared at her. “The man I just arrested is a friend of Iphy’s?”
“I —” Callie realized it might be better to tell him everything right now, but Ace cut her off with a hand gesture. “Better if I don’t know.” He gently pushed her off his lap. “I have to get going and question him. Just don’t tell Iphy anything yet. You never know what reason he might have for coming out here. Could be something perfectly innocent.” But his tone didn’t support his words.
Before Callie could protest, however, or ask questions, Ace was at the back door. “Thanks for breakfast.”
And he was gone.
* * *
Callie was reluctant to go up to Iphy to collect the tea mug and plate, as she was certain her perceptive great-aunt would notice something wrong right away. She hung around the kitchen, cleaning the breakfast items, and then went to walk Daisy.
Outside, in the pale sunshine of a crisp February morning, everything didn’t seem so bleak. After all, Strong had assured them he’d had nothing to do with the murder. If he had told them the truth.
But why would he have told them the truth anyway? He was a virtual stranger. That he had known Iphy sometime in the past didn’t mean anything now. If he was guilty, if he had killed that man in a moment’s rage, grabbing for the scissors and stabbing them into his chest, he wasn’t going to admit it to them. Iphy obviously wanted to help Strong, but would he be open to that? He seemed like a man who knew how to fend for himself.
No. Callie shook her head to herself. If Strong was the killer, he would have played the exact part he had played last night. He would have been friendly to them and accommodating, denying all involvement, hoping he could elude the police long enough to be on the plane back to Vienna, where he couldn’t be arrested.
How clever. How cold-blooded, if he was truly guilty.
Callie could still see his pleasant smile as he had walked over from the elevator and pecked Iphy on the cheek. Ordering her favorite drink for her, toasting “the old days.” Anything to be seen as charming. And harmless perhaps.
Though Callie doubted whether Iphy had ever felt like Sean Strong was harmless.
While Daisy frolicked on the grass of the little park, Callie stood staring into the distance, trying to determine how to best handle this. Her first impulse was to keep the arrest from Iphy and hope she wouldn’t find out anytime soon. But as Book Tea was full of gossiping ladies, it might be hard to do that.
And as soon as Iphy learned about it and about the fact that Callie had known and not told her, she would be angry about it. Perhaps honesty was the best policy after all?
But Callie already knew that Iphy would want them to clear Sean. They’d have to go to the police station, where Ace would not be happy to see them. He had been so sweet to her this morning, so approachable, giving her new hope they could be together more and even have a life together? Why not?
But this murder case shouldn’t ruin it. Ace hadn’t liked her involvement in earlier cases because he was worried for her safety, and she didn’t want to risk an argument with him.
Daisy came back to her and stood beside her, looking up as if she had noticed her pensive mood. She barked and wagged her tail.
Callie leaned down and cuddled her. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, girl. We’re going back home. I just wish I knew what to do.”
Daisy trotted ahead of her at a brisk pace, not realizing what decision waited for Callie as soon as they were back at Book Tea. They found Iphy in the kitchen, fully dressed and making coffee. “Are you sure you didn’t want to rest a bit longer?” Callie asked, realizing how convenient it would have been if Iphy had stayed away from Book Tea and the guests for the day.
Her great-aunt turned to them and smiled. “Thanks so much for bringing my breakfast to me, but I’m not ill. It’s a normal day, and I intend to work hard.” It sounded like something she had told herself a couple of times, maybe while trying to drag herself out of bed.
“You never take a day off,” Callie said. “Maybe you should.” She gestured to the back door. “Just go for coffee in another town. Walk by the ocean. Go see a museum. Do something that will be a pleasant diversion.”
Iphy’s eyes narrowed as she looked Callie over. “Is something the matter?”
“Why would something be the matter? I just realized you’re always so busy, and you shoul
d take care of yourself. If you had a bad night, take some time off.”
Iphy leaned her weight back and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s going on here? The moment I came into this kitchen, I smelled male aftershave.”
She waited a moment and then asked, “Has Sean been here? Has he set up a plan with you to take me out for the day?”
She acted like she was disgruntled about it, but it didn’t escape Callie how her great-aunt’s eyes lit up at the idea. A whole day spent with the man she had once cared for.
Maybe still cared for?
Callie’s heart sank. With the best intentions, she had wanted to send Iphy out for the day but had now inadvertently given her hope that Sean Strong wanted to spend time with her, when in fact he was at the police station, facing murder charges! How to break the truth to her in a gentle way?
“I know Sean probably pressed upon you to keep it a secret from me, lure me away from here with some excuse. But you can’t lie, Callie. I see right through you.” Iphy’s eyes twinkled, and there was a bit of color in her cheeks now. “Just tell me. Then I’ll also know what to wear.”
She stood, ready to rush upstairs to change into other clothes, select jewelry, put on perfume.
Callie’s chest tightened. Poor Iphy. She really didn’t want to be the bearer of this bad news.
“You’re not giving anything away by telling me what’s up. I won’t tell Sean you told me either. Now just confess.”
Callie said, “Sean wasn’t here. Ace was. We had breakfast together.”
The elation in Iphy’s features died. Her cheeks got even redder, though, as if she was embarrassed by her own hopeful assumptions. “Oh, well, I guess … yes, that is logical, of course.”
She turned away to the coffeemaker and fussed with her mug she had put at the ready. She didn’t seem to think anything of Ace’s arrival in the early morning or think to ask whether he had mentioned developments in the murder case.
Good. Now she need not tell her great-aunt anything.
But looking at her narrow shoulders, Callie just couldn’t keep the truth from her. She couldn’t bear to go into this day waiting for the bad news to hit. Waiting for that person to step through the door and discuss the sensational arrest at the airport that Iphy would overhear. What if she dropped something, broke her precious china, drew attention to herself?
No, she had to tell her now.
“Ace told me he had made an arrest. At the airport.”
Iphy turned to her. “Airport?” Her blue eyes were wide and alert. “You mean, the killer was trying to flee?”
“That’s what Ace thinks. He arrested him, and while he was here with me, a call came in that they also found out the arrested person lied about certain things. That strengthens their case against him.”
“Him. So it’s a man. Mrs. Forrester is off the hook then. I never thought it was her.” Iphy spoke fast, almost forced. “Did Ace … um … mention who it was he arrested?”
“Yes.” Callie swallowed a moment. “Sean Strong.”
Iphy blinked. It seemed she got the message at once but was furiously trying to deny it or twist it in some way to explain to herself that Sean had been arrested but wasn’t guilty.
The high color drained from her face, and Callie rushed to put an arm around her and help her onto a chair.
Iphy said in a low voice, “Sean? No. That can’t be right.”
“He was arrested while he was trying to get on a plane”
“That flight back to Vienna had been booked in advance. He didn’t try to run. Did you tell Ace that?”
“No, I didn’t tell him we saw Sean last night.”
Callie figured her great-aunt would understand why, but Iphy tried to pull away from her, saying, “Then he doesn’t even know. I have to go and tell him.”
Callie sucked in air. “Sean can tell Ace he was already booked on that flight. He can also explain to him why he lied. To Ace, to us, to everyone.”
“Lied about what?” Iphy looked up at her, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
“He came to the Valentine’s event to replace Teak, right? Simon Teak with his throat infection.”
“Yes. It’s impossible to sing with a throat infection.”
“I know, but unfortunately Mr. Teak doesn’t have a throat infection or any other ailment preventing him from performing yesterday. He is in perfectly good health and told the police when asked about it that Sean Strong offered him money to let him take his place.”
“What?” Iphy stared at Callie.
“Sean Strong deliberately changed places with Teak so he would be at the event yesterday. Combine that with the knowledge that he fought with the victim, and we can conclude that he came here because he wanted to meet up with our expert, Mr. King. Confront him about something.”
“That is so far-fetched,” Iphy said. “Sean might have changed places because he wanted to come back to Heart’s Harbor. He has been here before.”
Callie shook her head. “Last night you said you would never have believed he’d come back here.”
Iphy blinked. “Yes, well, I can be wrong sometimes.” She laughed, a shrill little laugh. “He did want to come back.”
Callie clenched her hand at the idea that Iphy now believed Sean had wanted to come back for her. That he had used an excuse so as not to let her know it had been his choice that had brought him there, rather than a coincidence or a favor for a friend from the music business.
“Sean was always a proud man,” Iphy said softly. “He never liked to admit he had been wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to admit he was wrong leaving this little town the way he did. Maybe he wanted to come back and make up. But he didn’t want to say so in so many words, so he used the excuse of the throat infection as a reason why.”
She looked up at Callie again, hopeful, eager. “That must be it. I’ll go to the station and tell Falk. It’s all a silly misunderstanding.”
Callie shook her head. “Sean told us last night he had never heard of this expert. But he fought with him. Not just with words—he also assaulted him. Coincidence? I don’t think so. If he came here for a purpose, the dead expert was that purpose.”
“Nonsense.” Iphy pushed herself up on the table’s edge. “Why would Sean, who has a wonderful life in Europe, drop everything and come here to murder some man who appraises books? That makes no sense at all. I’ll explain to Falk that Sean came here for old times’ sake. Then he can let him go again.”
“Ace won’t just let him go,” Callie protested, but her great-aunt had already rushed off to go get her coat.
Callie went after her. “You’re in no condition to drive. You’re tired and upset.”
“I’m not …” Iphy turned to her with a wild gesture, almost losing her balance and falling against something. She smiled wanly. “All right then. No need to have an accident added to the list of disasters. You can drive me out to the station. But you won’t interfere in it. I’ll talk to Falk alone.”
“Please do.” Callie already felt bad about the whole thing, as she had a sinking feeling that Iphy’s explanations wouldn’t change Ace’s mind. But she wasn’t about to let her exhausted and upset great-aunt go alone. She slipped into her own coat and, with Daisy, they left the Book Tea in a rush.
Chapter Eleven
At the police station Callie was happy to see Ace wasn’t in direct view, suggesting he might already be interrogating Sean Strong. She hoped she could avoid him—or at least avoid the impression she had shared her knowledge of the arrest with Iphy immediately after Ace had left her and that they were now here to interfere in the case.
Iphy went to the desk and asked for Deputy Falk. Callie hovered at the door while Daisy pressed against her leg. The dog seemed a bit intimidated by the loud sounds of keyboards clicking, faxes rattling, and phones ringing.
The deputy behind the desk gestured and called something, and to her annoyance, Callie saw Ace appear from the corridor leading to the interrogation rooms. He c
ame over to the desk, spotting Iphy, and looked past her, seeing Callie. Callie wasn’t quite sure what the words were for the expression on his face, but it came close to unpleasant surprise.
Irritation even.
Iphy explained something Callie couldn’t hear, and Ace frowned, as if he wasn’t about to comply. Then he relented and waved her along to an office that wasn’t used. He closed the door behind them.
Callie felt nervous that he hadn’t even acknowledged her with a nod or a wave of the hand, nor asked his colleague to offer her coffee while he was talking to Iphy.
She paced the floor where the sitting area was, too nervous to sit down and look at one of the dog-eared magazines about boating and fishing, littering the low table. Daisy walked beside her, her head tilted in confusion at what on earth they were doing there, but after a while she got tired of it and lay down, putting her head on her paws.
“You’re right, girl,” Callie said with a rueful sigh, “taking it easy is better, but—”
A sound behind her jerked through her, and she whirled around. But it was just an elderly woman entering the station. She stood a moment, looking around her, apparently insecure and perhaps even intimidated by the idea that she was now in a police station. Callie wondered briefly where she had seen her before, but as the Book Tea received countless visitors every day, she assumed it had been there and didn’t pay much real attention. She resumed pacing, checking her watch and determining Iphy had already been in there for seven minutes. It seemed much longer.
Ace’s colleague had gone to the desk to ask the new arrival how he might help her, and the lady started to explain in a quivering voice that she had been to Haywood Hall but had been told there that she had to come to the police station.
“Come here?” the deputy asked. “Do you know something about the murder that happened the other day?”
The woman looked startled. “Oh no. I know nothing about the murder. I had no idea that the man had died until they told me at Haywood Hall. I only want my book back. I will return the twenty dollars he gave me for it. I should never have brought it, let alone sold it. But my husband insisted.”