by Joy Avon
A loud knock at the door made her jerk. She stood frozen, glancing from Iphy and Callie to the door and back.
The knocking came again, more urgently. She went over and hissed, “Not now.”
“I have to talk to you,” a female voice said. “I’m sorry about what I just said. We have to pull this off.”
Paula stood with her hand pressed against the door like she wanted to push right through the wood and shove the other woman away. “I can’t talk to you now.”
“Nonsense. Open up.”
Paula swallowed audibly and opened the door. The woman who had been with her in the dining room marched in. Then she saw Iphy and Callie. “Who are they?”
“They’re here to give me some extra money for the book I brought in. It seems it wasn’t appraised properly.”
A flash of something crossed the woman’s face, as if she wasn’t surprised at all at the idea of fraud at the event. “Well, well,” she said, studying Iphy and Callie. “Got afraid now that he’s dead? Quickly return the money to the duped parties before the police hear about it?”
“Sylvia!” Paula whispered, but Sylvia pushed on. “It’s despicable how you betray innocent people with events like this. Come and have your books appraised. Come and be ripped off, you mean.”
“You knew the expert betrayed people?” Callie asked.
Sylvia scoffed at her. “Don’t act innocent with me. I know exactly what King was like. How he treated people. And how he charmed women. Which one of you was he dating? Or both? It didn’t matter to him.”
“Sylvia,” Paula said again. “Just let them give me back the money they think they owe me and be done with it.”
Iphy shook her head. “If you know more about this fraudulent activity, you should talk to the police.”
“The police?” Sylvia’s voice rose. “I talked to the police all right, and they just laughed at me. They thought I had been a silly goose. They couldn’t do anything for me, they said. That taught me about the police.” She stood up straight, her hands by her side clenching and unclenching.
A strong woman, Callie thought, and someone who would carry a grudge.
Iphy said, “But this time it wasn’t just fraud. It was murder as well.”
“I’m not sorry he died,” Sylvia said. “And I won’t lift a finger to assist the police in solving it. Why? For justice for him?” She sounded as if she would like to spit on the floor to underline her words.
Iphy said, “Not for him, but for the man who has been arrested for the murder. He’s innocent, and I intend to prove it and get him out.”
Paula raised both hands to her face. “You’re not here about the book.” She glanced at Sylvia. “I told you not to—”
Sylvia ignored her. “We can’t tell you anything about the murder. We just handed in the book, and then we went to the concert. We were nowhere near King when he died.”
“But you came to Heart’s Harbor on purpose to confront him?” Callie asked.
Paula said, “I came to have him appraise my book and maybe get my aunt’s inheritance sorted.” Her voice was thin with a hint of desperate insistence.
Callie said, “The police can check whether you really have an aunt who died recently. They can also check whether you’re actually a stewardess like you claim. If you’ve been lying, that won’t look good.”
Paula cast Sylvia a pleading look.
Sylvia sighed. Then she said, “I told you that stupid lie about your aunt’s inheritance wouldn’t go far.”
“We could have pulled it off if he hadn’t been killed.” Paula stamped her foot. “Imagine him having to die just when we’re around.”
Sylvia grimaced. “It’s like he’s conning us all over, this time from beyond the grave.”
Callie said, “Can anyone please explain to me what this is about? You’re obviously not just a woman looking for an expert to take her aunt’s inheritance off her hands. But why did you come to see Mr. King?”
Paula looked at Sylvia. “Are we going to tell them?”
Sylvia shook her head. “Why would we? They have nothing against us.”
Iphy said, “Callie here is the fiancé of the local deputy who is currently replacing the sheriff, who is in bed with a concussion. If she tells him what she learned here, Falk will be at the hotel in a flash to take you in for questioning. Your lies will get out soon enough, and then …” She clucked her tongue.
Sylvia eyed Callie in disbelief. “The fiancé of the local law officer?”
Iphy pulled out her cell phone. “I can call him now if you want to verify it.”
Callie held her breath, imagining a call coming in asking Ace to confirm that she was his fiancé, when they had just about broken up. What would he say?
Sylvia released her breath. “Don’t call. We believe you.” She glanced at Paula. “And we will tell you what happened. If you keep us out of the murder investigation. We had nothing to do with it. On my honor.”
Iphy put her phone back into her pocket. “Out with it then.”
Paula looked at Sylvia. “Should I …?”
Before she could finish her sentence, Sylvia shook her head abruptly and began talking. “Eight years ago I met a charming man. He was kind, understanding, he took me out. He paid the bills, held open the door—a true gentleman. He told me great stories about his travels, his yacht in the Mediterranean. I adored him. Then one night he came to me in a panic. His credit card had been stolen, and someone had been using it. He needed to fly out to the other side of the country to set it straight, in person, but he had no access to money. He wondered if I could lend him some. For the airplane ticket, a hotel, taxis, and more. I was so sorry for him, I loaned him two thousand dollars. In cash.”
Sylvia laughed softly. “After a day or two, he called me. He couldn’t get it resolved quickly, and he needed more money. I wired him another two thousand dollars. You can imagine how this played out. More stories, more drama, and more money. When he had ten thousand dollars of my money, he never called me again.”
Callie sat motionless, picturing how hurt and embarrassed Sylvia must have felt.
“I went to the police. Once there and being questioned, I realized how little I actually knew about him. He had given me a fake name of course, and I had never been to his house. I didn’t know where he worked exactly—something in stocks he told me, but I didn’t need to worry my pretty head over the details. You get the idea.” Sylvia laughed bitterly. “They said they couldn’t do much with this information, and I had given him the money of my own accord. No coercion, no blackmail or anything.”
She stared at the floor. “I told myself when I left the police station that I would remember his face. And if I ever came across him again, I would go after him to get my money back.”
Sylvia took a deep breath. “Now I’m not the only one who had this experience. You can regularly read such stories in magazines or newspapers. So one day I was reading a magazine where several duped women told their story, and one of those stories matched mine right down to the details. Including the nicknames the man had given during the fake relationship.”
Sylvia clenched her hands. “I felt humiliated all over again but also determined to get this pig. Via the magazine, I got in touch with this other woman. We compared notes, but since he used fake names, we couldn’t track him. We hired a PI, and we also put out calls online to find more women who had been duped.”
Sylvia paced the room again. “In the end, we found out he was now an expert in old books, and decided to come here to confront him. Paula would, with her story of the inheritance, tempt him to come to her hotel room at night. Then I would be here as well, to give him a piece of my mind.”
“And to get your money back,” Callie added.
Sylvia nodded. “We were going to give him a choice: pay us back or face charges.”
“But he would have known, just like you knew, that you could never prove it was him.” Callie held Sylvia’s gaze.
“We counted o
n him wanting to avoid charges at all costs. He has a reputation to protect now that he’s been on TV.” Sylvia sounded disparaging. “It would have worked. Had he been able to come.”
“But he was already dead,” Iphy said. “And why invite him to your hotel room? You could have confronted him at the event.”
“Why? It would have worked much better here.” Sylvia gestured around her. “Not somewhere where other people might intervene. He had this assistant who followed him like a puppy.”
Callie said, “You just said you were going to let Paula go to the event and invite King here. But you went with her. You were with her when she offered her book for appraisal. I saw both of you in the bookroom, and he didn’t recognize you then?”
She noticed Paula made a nervous movement. Sylvia said, “Of course not, it was years ago. And we took care to look different. He wasn’t supposed to know what was up until he was in here.”
Iphy asked, “And after you had given him the book with the invitation in it, you didn’t see him again? Neither of you went back up to confront him, one on one?”
Sylvia shook her head. “Why would we have done that? Everything had gone so well, it was just a matter of time. Wait patiently until he showed up here and paid his dues.”
His just desserts, Callie thought.
“But he never came,” Sylvia said, “so nothing happened here. We don’t know who killed him.”
Paula seemed to want to say something but changed her mind. She stood with her head down.
Sylvia continued, “Now I have told you all I know. Please leave.”
“You should tell your story to the police,” Iphy urged. “Once they know he was a conman before, they can widen their circle of inquiries.”
“Yes—to us, you mean.” Sylvia laughed softly. “I don’t think so. You have nothing concrete against us.”
She glanced at Callie. “Your fiancé can’t do anything with vague leads. And he might just lose his job if he goes after people because someone who isn’t with the police blabbered. You know, I wonder if it’s even legal for a deputy to send his fiancée to someone in the privacy of their hotel room and put pressure on them to confess to some imagined crime.”
Callie, who sensed where this was going, rose to her feet. “We’re leaving. Thanks for your time.”
Iphy seemed to want to protest, but Callie gestured at her to come along to the door.
Sylvia accompanied them and said, “I’m sorry King caused trouble at your event. But that was just the man he was. Trouble wherever he went. Good night.”
As soon as Callie and Iphy stepped outside, she closed the door behind them. They heard it lock.
Iphy said, “I wasn’t done yet. We could have convinced them to—”
“Of course not. They had a bad experience with the police when they tried to report how they were duped. They don’t believe in justice.”
“Either of them might have killed the victim. I bet it was one of them and not Sean.” Iphy pouted. “But how are we going to prove it?”
Callie sighed. There was only one way, and she saw it clearly. The only problem was, she didn’t want to go down that route right now. The route to the police station.
After all, Paula had left a card in the book she had sold to the dead expert. As the belongings of the dead man had been put in the police’s keeping, Ace could claim he had found the card in there and followed up on it. Paula could never prove otherwise. And once this factual lead had put Paula and Sylvia on Ace’s radar, he could look closer at them and their movements at the event.
But Callie knew she had little to no leeway with Ace at the moment, and besides, Sylvia’s threats to endanger Ace’s career had hit her hard. If he lost what he had built because of her, he’d certainly never forgive her. They’d never be together again, sit like they had over breakfast, feeling at peace together.
She blinked hard against the burn behind her eyes. It was all steering toward disaster, and she had no idea how to get things back on course toward a solution.
Iphy looked her over. “What are you thinking? That Sean won’t be cleared?” She sounded so dejected it hurt Callie’s heart. She took in her great-aunt’s appearance, her fragile figure that had seemed to grow more vulnerable over the past few days. Once upon a time, Iphy had decided against a chance for happiness because of loyalty to her family—a concept Callie understood all too well. What was a little hurt, confronting Ace, if she could try and help this beloved woman save the man she had once cared for? Didn’t Iphy deserve her unquestioning support?
Callie straightened up and checked her watch. Normally, Ace would be home by now, but she knew that when he was frustrated, he liked to stay at the station and work until late into the night. She bet they could still find him there.
And either way, she wasn’t going to take her great-aunt to his cabin. There were too many memories attached to happier moments spent there. “We’re going to the police station. I’ve got the perfect plan for how Ace can get to these wily ladies.”
Chapter Sixteen
At the station they found a deputy preparing to leave, apparently in response to a call about a car theft in the parking lot of a highway restaurant. Ace was just giving him a few last instructions, telling him to call in for backup if he needed any. The deputy nodded and left, brushing past them, his car key in his hand. Ace saw them and froze.
Callie stood there just looking at his face, the lines around his mouth, the tiredness in his eyes, everything she knew so well and loved about him. She felt terrible for what had happened to them, and still she didn’t know how to solve it, as it seemed to have happened, and—
“I don’t have a lot of time,” Ace said. His voice sounded chill and dismissive.
“Is Sean still here?” Iphy asked. “Or has he been transferred to …?” She swallowed.
“He’s still here. His lawyer claims he can deliver proof of his innocence before eleven tomorrow morning. I thought it would be rather harsh to send an old man to jail.” Ace leaned back, a silent challenge in his posture.
Iphy sighed with relief. “Oh, good, then we can talk right away.”
A frown formed over Ace’s eyes. “I just said I don’t have a lot of time. His lawyer is working to get him cleared. Now you let it be.”
He wanted to turn away from them, but Iphy said, “I doubt that the lawyer knows what we know. Please hear us out.”
Ace looked her over, then glanced at Callie. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Callie shrugged. “I know I can’t ask for anything. But we do know a few things that you might not, and they could be important. Like you just said, Sean Strong is an old man, and he doesn’t deserve to go to jail if he’s innocent.”
Ace stood and stared at the floor. The silence seemed to stretch forever.
Callie bit her lip and resisted the urge to fidget with her hands or shift her weight. She hadn’t expected him to come up and hug her, but this coldness was terrible.
Then Ace said, “All right. I want to give everyone a fair chance.” He gestured to the sheriff’s office. “In there then.”
Iphy went ahead, and Ace came to walk beside Callie. “I’m disappointed, though,” he said in a low voice, “that you just continued sleuthing. You don’t care about my opinion at all, do you?”
Callie wanted to protest, but they were already at the office door, and Ace made an exaggerated gesture for her to go in first.
Iphy had already taken a chair and began to rattle about Mrs. Forrester, the deception with the valuable books, and how her information had then put them on the trail of the women at the hotel.
Ace had taken a seat opposite, in the sheriff’s heavy leather swivel chair, and listened with his hands folded on the edge of the desk. Callie saw that the information did strike him as peculiar and potentially relevant, and he was processing the possible leads and actions as he listened.
Finally Iphy said, “So you see there were people at the event who had every reason to ha
te our victim and come after him.”
Ace said, “Yes, but the ladies assured you they wanted to confront the man away from other people, at the hotel. Why leave a card in a book, giving your name and room number, and then go and murder the man in question in a house crowded with people? That wouldn’t be very smart.”
“Well, apparently they have been very smart about their actions, because you don’t have them locked up right now—you have Sean.” Iphy sounded indignant.
Ace winced. “I haven’t had time yet to comb through all of those books and other belongings. By the way, how did you know about the card and what it said?”
Callie winced as this was the painful point she had hoped Ace wouldn’t ask about.
Iphy said, “From Seth Delacorte.”
Ace threw his weight back in the chair, which creaked in protest. “You went to see him again? After I explained how I felt about that?” His eyes shot sparks at them, especially at Callie. “It was the only way. Iphy so wanted to clear Sean Strong.” Callie pleaded with her eyes for him to understand how she had just wanted to help her great-aunt, someone she loved and would do anything for.
Ace sighed. “I can of course act like I found the card in the book when we checked it for evidence, and am following up on this lady called Paula to see what she can tell me about Mr. King.”
“Yes, but you must talk to her while this Sylvia isn’t present,” Iphy said. “She takes the lead, does all the talking, and she seems rather shrewd. I think you can get more from Paula alone.”
After a short silence she added, almost as an afterthought, “Besides, Sylvia was the one who threatened to ruin your career.”
“What?” Ace asked.
Iphy feigned an innocent expression. “She thought she could threaten us into keeping our mouths shut by saying she would complain about you sending civilians to the hotel to ask questions. But we weren’t there on your orders, so there’s no problem really, is there?”