Scent to Her Grave

by Ink, India

  “What about Trev? Tawny, did Trevor have any run-ins with Lydia back then?” Whether or not that would have any impact on the case, I didn’t know, but it seemed like a good thing to ask.

  “Oh yeah. Trevor had a thing for her even back then, but she ignored him until about a year ago. She didn’t bother him, though—not like the other kids. He was cute and I guess she was keeping him in the wings for one of those in-between-serious-boyfriend times. Who else? Tina, the fat girl of the class. Lydia made her absolutely miserable, even though Tina was talented and funny. Lydia used to call her some awful names. Oh—and Debbie. Lydia really had a chip on her shoulder about Debbie for some reason. Should I go on? There are more.”

  I shook my head. Her list sounded like roll call from a body-count movie and reminded me of what high school in Gull Harbor had been like. Cliques rule, everybody else drools. And Lydia reigned supreme over all. Nightmare on Prom Street.

  “Sounds like she terrorized your class.” I readied my station and leaned back in my chair.

  Tawny perched on the counter, swinging her legs. “I guess. My friends and I, we didn’t pay much attention. We just tried to avoid getting caught near her. We used to joke about it. Who was going to be her Victim of the Day and all. I never made it onto her list, but a lot of people hated her, Persia. Even some of the teachers. And yet, ya know, she ended up homecoming queen and she was voted ‘most likely to succeed’ for the senior yearbook.”

  She stretched and wandered over to the counter, where she began folding a stack of star-and-moon print scarves while I digested what she’d said. Even when I’d been in junior high, the cliques had been just as bad; but since I’d started taking martial arts in seventh grade, I’d escaped all that. Nobody messed with members of the Tai Kwan Do club, not even the jocks. By the time I graduated early and left home at sixteen, I’d acquired a certain mystique—I didn’t have many friends my own age, but I had even fewer enemies.

  I shook myself out of my memories and was about to start in on the samples for the Juniper Girl line when the door opened and Heddy Latherton swept through. Great. Just great. I wanted to get some work done today, but Auntie had warned me we’d be deluged by curiosity-mongers. Could I make a quick escape? I glanced at the office door and calculated my speed against Heddy’s determination. Nope, I’d lose, hands down. She was headed straight for me, a greedy glint in her eye. The woman was hungry for news. I squelched my instinct to run, bracing myself against her onslaught.

  In her mid-fifties, Heddy had been divorced and remarried three times. Third time must have been the charm, because she hit the jackpot with old man Latherton. Chester had been seventy-eight when they married a year ago, my aunt told me, and within two months, he was in his grave. Heart attack, no doubt brought on by actually having to live with his new bride. Heddy had lost a husband, but gained a fortune.

  “Persia Vanderbilt! Aren’t you looking pretty today—how are you? Is your aunt here? I had to come in and tell you just how much I worried about you two when I found out what happened! What a shame that such a thing would happen in your shop, would you ever believe it? And Lydia, our local beauty queen at that—now who could possibly believe that Trevor would be angry enough to kill her? Of course, you never can tell. They always say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

  As she ran out of steam, I pounced on the brief silence. “Thank you for your concern. We’re standing behind Trevor in this, and we’re positive that the evidence will prove that he’s innocent.”

  It came out sounding stiff, but I had to say something. I just wished I felt as sure as I sounded, but regardless of my own doubts, I had to squelch the rumor mill before it got out of hand. As I listened to her run on at the mouth, a thought began to crystallize that Heddy and her insatiable nosiness might be of some use in our investigation. I doubted that Kyle had bothered to ask her anything; hearsay and rumors weren’t evidence.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and chat with me for a moment?” I said, trying to figure out the best approach. Blunt wouldn’t work, Heddy liked to feel as if she were doing her listeners a big favor by parceling out information. I let her drone on for a few moments, then let out a loud sigh.

  Her eyes flickered. “Is something wrong, dear?” Yep, a pounce, just like I’d hoped.

  “It’s just that, oh, it just seems awfully cruel. As you said, who could have hated her that much?” I let my voice drift for a moment. “I mean, wasn’t she awfully young to have enemies?”

  Heddy gave me a keen look, then glanced around to make sure we weren’t being overheard. She leaned in. “That’s why I think Trevor did it. He had the biggest motive. My dear, I understand that you and your aunt want to stand up for him, but we have to face facts. Jealousy is a powerful motivator, and brings even the strongest men to their knees. Why my very own Chester—”

  Bingo! I jumped on the opening before she could run off on a tangent. “Jealousy? Well, I know she broke up with him recently but . . .”

  A coy smile curled around her lips and then she winked. “Oh, my dear, it wasn’t the breakup that hurt his ego so much. It was the other man! Some men simply cannot stand being supplanted.”

  Other man? Lydia had already found somebody else? If that was true, then maybe Trevor had gone off the deep end. I mulled over the thought for a moment, then said, “So she was seeing someone else? I’d heard rumors but . . .” Again, the bait. And again, she rose like a fish to the worm.

  “Well, yes. That’s why they broke up, you know. Lydia told Trevor that she’d found somebody new. Melinda was talking to Allison, who told her all about it, and of course, Melinda told me—”

  Whoa, slow down! I cleared my throat. “Melinda? Allison?”

  Heddy was in full thrall now, revved to go. “Melinda is my youngest niece. Allison, a friend of hers, was one of Lydia’s best friends. Apparently Lydia found a new boyfriend and told everybody that Trevor wasn’t worth her time; that her new beau was far more exciting.”

  As she paused, I had a distinct tingling sensation in my neck. This was important, even if I didn’t know how or why. “Does anybody know who her new boyfriend is? Was?”

  “No,” Heddy said, almost sadly. “She wouldn’t say. Melissa said Allison gave her the distinct impression that the man might be . . . well . . . on the wrong side of the law or something. But Allison said that she didn’t know who it was, although she thought he might have something to do with the contest.”

  I sat back, pondering what she’d divulged. Another boyfriend, possibly a tad bit shady. Could shady equal dangerous? And then I remembered Colleen’s insinuation the other day. “At least I didn’t screw the judges in order to win.” Had Lydia slept with the judges in order to get her crown? Could her boyfriend actually be one of the judges? I filed away the thought and gave Heddy a bright smile to ward off further questions.

  “Well, that’s all very enlightening. What a business, don’t you think? Now, did you come in for a facial today, or are you looking for something in particular?”

  “Oh, one of your aunt’s facials, my dear. They’re the best in town.”

  I escorted her to the counter to make an appointment with Tawny and returned to my station, my thoughts a million miles away from my work. I put away the oils, too distracted to pay attention to what I was doing. I’d mix up some generic rose bath salts. They required little more than measuring and stirring and it meant I could try to sort out what was rapidly becoming a complicated situation.

  An hour later I slipped into the office to talk to my aunt, but she was on the phone. I grabbed a notepad and scribbled, “I’m headed to the Delacorte Plaza” and held it up for her to see. She nodded and waved. As I stopped to pick up my purse, I felt the same déjà vu that I had the other day, but damned if I could figure out what it was about. With a shrug, I told Tawny that I’d be out for awhile. As I headed toward the door, Barbara came through it.

  “You want to go with me?” I asked after telling her where I was g
oing.

  “Sure, just stop in with me so I can tell Dorian. Ari’s on top of things today, so I can take off without feeling guilty.”

  Ari was Dorian’s nephew who had recently come to the United States. His uncle hired him and put him to work, and Ari had proved to be a stable and competent righthand young man. The two men just waved when I told them I was kidnapping Barb for an hour or so.

  I pulled out from my parking space and navigated through downtown Gull Harbor. The air pulsed as shoppers hurried along the sidewalks, trying to avoid the chill in the air by ducking into the various bookstores, cafés, antique stores, yarn and sewing shops, and all the other fun haunts that made up the unique flavor of the town.

  Gull Harbor was laid out on a grid, with most of the streets running in a crosshatch pattern. Island Drive ran through the center, crossed by numerous major intersections. Moss Rose Cottage was on the northeast side of town, while Delacorte Plaza sat in the southwest, away from Puget Sound. I turned right onto Morocco Avenue. Traffic was light, though in a month it would be thick with tourists. During the summer months, all the locals took the back roads, avoiding the heavy traffic, and left the main thoroughfares to the sightseers.

  Gull Harbor was visitor-friendly. Parking was plentiful, streets were wide and clean, the sidewalks were dotted with benches, flower boxes everywhere were filled with ivy and morning glory, and well-groomed shade trees provided respite from the summer sun and a place to hang Christmas lights during the winter.

  The shop windows were inviting, with few of those hole-in-the-wall dives that made people shiver and cross to the other side of the street. Like all towns, Gull Harbor had a seedy side, but it was found on the outskirts. Over along Oak and Pine and Elmwood the taverns flourished and even a rumored brothel ran under the auspicious eyes of Clarice Wilcox, the local madam. But all in all, crime was under control, and the Gull Harbor that the tourists saw was pristine and beautiful, albeit rainy.

  Delacorte Plaza was situated at the corner of Fortune and Gates Avenues, and took up a good block. Essentially a giant shopping mall, the complex housed everything from the Gap to a six-theater movie cinema. The complex also housed a four-thousand-square-foot interactive aquarium at its center. While I preferred shopping in smaller boutiques, I’d been to the DP, as the locals called it, on more than one occasion and always found myself lured into the aquarium, entranced by the beauty of the fish and the sea creatures in the giant backlit tanks.

  I pulled into a parking space and turned to Barbara. “Kyle said that both the phone message on our tape and the one that Lydia supposedly made to Trevor originated from the payphone bank in the aquarium, so I guess we should go in and have a look.”

  Barb nodded. “Let’s make a stop on the way. I want an Orange Julius.”

  The shopping crowd was sparse and we were able to get our drinks without waiting. Within ten minutes we were standing with our backs to a tank containing a variety of jellyfish, staring at a bank of pay phones. Kyle hadn’t said just which one it was, but I guessed that it didn’t make any difference—it wasn’t like I was here to take fingerprints or anything.

  Barb glanced over her shoulder at the jellies and shuddered. “They make me nervous. Dorian and I went to Australia a few years ago and I narrowly missed getting stung by a box jelly. One of the sea wasps. We were out on the shore by ourselves, and if Dorian hadn’t spotted it and stopped me, I probably would have died.”

  “You never told me you’ve been to Australia. What else have we missed dishing about?” I asked, wandering over to read the information on the plaque next to the tank. Chironex fleckeri, better known as the sea wasp, had an impressive defense mechanism. Since the creature was rather delicate, its defense acted as a pretty good offense, too.

  Actually quite beautiful, it looked like a wispy, bell-shaped lampshade with long flowing streamers. One of the creatures could kill an adult human within minutes, and some of the larger jellies had enough venom to take down a dozen or more people. The poison caused respiratory failure, circulatory collapse, and a nasty shock to the heart unless antivenin was delivered right away. Delightful. I planned on surfing Australia someday. Before I went, I’d be sure to come study these babies a little more closely so I knew what to look out for.

  I glanced back at Barbara. “We won’t be dipping our hands in the tank, that’s for sure. I’m surprised they allow such dangerous creatures here.”

  She shrugged. “No more dangerous than having a rattler or a fer-de-lance in a reptile house, I guess. The tanks are well sealed and there’s no real chance anybody could get in there unless they break the glass. I’d imagine it would take a sledgehammer, because the glass looks tempered to withstand a lot of pressure. But all the same, they give me the creeps.” She sucked on her straw. “Well, now that we’re here, what do we do?”

  Good question. What were we looking for? I realized as I looked around that I had no clue as to what I expected to find. I walked over to the bank of pay phones and eyed them critically. One had an out-of-order sign on it and the date was from last week, so it was obviously out of the running. The other three were all prime suspects. I noticed a woman pushing a cleaning cart toward the back of the aquarium.

  “Excuse me!”

  She turned. “Yeah? What do you want?”

  As I walked over to her, I cringed, but managed to keep my composure. She was a short, rail-thin woman who had to be a rabid chain smoker. Her teeth were yellowed and the wrinkles around her mouth were deep set and premature. The scent of smoke rose from her hair in a stale cloud, gagging me. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m wondering if I might talk to whoever works the evening shift? Specifically, last Monday night.”

  She gave me a one-shouldered shrug. “That would be Andy. You one of his bimbos? You look a little old for him.”

  A little old? I did not look my age and I knew it. I shoved aside the comment, focusing on why we were here. “No, I’m not. I’m . . . I’m helping the Winchester Law Firm. We’re investigating a murder. I want to talk to whoever was on duty that night.”

  With her hands on her hips, she snorted. “Won’t do you no good. Andy already told the cops everything he saw—which wasn’t much, considering he was in the break room when he should have been out here on duty. If you’re looking to talk to him, you might as well call him at home because the boss let him go this morning. Lazy little slob.” A trickle of spittle flew out of her mouth.

  I ignored her churlishness. “Thank you. Do you happen to know where he lives?” Just as I’d figured, she wasn’t up on the notion of confidentiality. She sighed and poked around in the desk. Apparently they hadn’t bothered to hire someone to fill in for good old Andy yet. After a moment, she came up with a notebook and wrote down a number and an address on a Post-It note for me.

  “Here you go. Say, if there’s any reward involved, do I get a share of it for making sure you can get in touch with him? My name’s Zelda Donovan, by the way. That’s D-on-o-v-a-n.”

  I took a deep breath, then immediately wished I hadn’t. Not only did she reek of smoke, but of rum as well. I wasn’t sure how she managed to keep her job coming to work like that, but it was a pretty good bet that she’d be following dear ol’ Andy out the door pretty soon, unless she was related to the owner.

  “I’m sorry, we can’t discuss matters like that when the case is still open.” It seemed a logical answer and she accepted it, nodding like she was in the loop. I thanked her again and Barbara and I hurried out of the aquarium.

  I glanced at the paper in my hand. Andy Andrews. Oh boy. With that name, he was probably teased unmercifully during school.

  “He lives . . . hmm . . . he lives right across the street. Let’s go.”

  As we were headed out of the aquarium, I saw a rack of brochures on the wall and snagged one. Stanton Scuba & Snorkeling Services. So Bran really did run a diving business. I tucked it away in my purse, thinking that maybe I could use a good brushing up on my underwater skills.

 
The address that Zelda had given us led us directly across the street to a five-story apartment building that looked like it had seen better days. Old and weatherworn, the building appeared to house some of the poorer residents of town. The walls were faded gray stone, and the double doors leading into the building creaked when we pushed through into the lobby. We passed a long row of mailboxes on either side, until we came to the elevator at the end of the hall.

  I glanced at the slip of paper again. “He lives in apartment 522A. You want to take the stairs?”

  Barbara looked at me like I was nuts. “Why should I take the stairs when transportation awaits?” She pointed to the elevator and, with a grin, I shrugged and hit the button. We stepped into the empty, noisy unit and pushed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator coughed and chugged. For a moment I was worried that it was going to break down with us inside, but then it gave a loud clunk and the doors opened.

  “That thing sounds worse than Zelda’s lungs did,” I said, stepping out into the hallway. Barbara followed me. We were standing in a long hall that was covered in worn sage green shag carpeting. The walls were the color of the filling in Mint Oreos, and windows at opposite ends of the hall overlooked Delacorte Plaza on one side, and on the other, a park of some sort behind the apartment building. There were a few paintings, mostly motel art, scattered along the cracking walls which looked like they hadn’t been given a paint job in several years at least. The air was chilly and I shivered, glad that I wasn’t living here.