“But this is my house,” Marnie said. “And my flag. I should be doing the stakeout.”
“And my painting,” Bunny added. “I think we should all stay.”
“I agree with Matthew,” I said. “If anybody shows up, it’ll probably be earlier during the night rather than later. The robbery at the Longview was around one o’clock in the morning. Marnie, you come and stay at my place for tonight.”
“If nothing happens by two or three o’clock, call me,” Marnie said. “I’ll come and take over.”
“I’ll do that,” he replied. His tone told me he had no such intention. He came closer. “I guess that’s one more sleepless night for me. Thank goodness I have my buddy here with me.” He scratched Winston’s head.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Now go.”
“I walked over,” Bunny said.
“Come on, we’ll give you a ride.” We piled into Marnie’s rental car.
As soon as the doors were closed, I said, “Does anybody know where Melinda lives?”
“I do,” Marnie said. “It’s only a couple of blocks from her shop. Why?”
“I think we should stake out her place too. If we’re right and she’s planning to rob Marnie, we should be there and warn Matthew when she leaves.”
“Brilliant,” Bunny said. “Let’s go. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. The minute the bitch leaves, I’m going in to look for my painting.”
“That’s breaking and entering,” I said. “You can’t do that.”
Marnie gave me a sideways look. “Get serious, will ya? As if you’ve never sneaked into somebody’s house before.” There was no point in denying it.
Soon we were on the highway, heading for Belmont. Marnie turned right after we passed the city limits, and then came to a stop across the street from a white clapboard house with navy trim. It was set on a large lot with gorgeous landscaping. “This is where she lives,” she said, as she turned off the headlights.
“It looks expensive,” Bunny said, voicing my thoughts.
“Is that her car?” I pointed to the small red car in the driveway. “If it is, then she’s not the driver of the blue car that belonged to the intruder.”
“If it is, it must be new. She used to have a blue car,” Marnie replied.
“If she’s stealing expensive paintings and antiques, and selling them on the black market, she can afford a fancier car than that,” Bunny said.
“If she’s the thief, she probably wouldn’t want to attract attention to herself by driving an expensive car,” I said. “We’d better park a bit farther down the street.”
Marnie turned on the motor and backed up. Just as she switched it off again, the front door opened and a woman stepped out. It was Melinda. Marnie grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“Look, she’s going to the trunk of her car.”
We watched as Melinda carried groceries into the house.
“So much for catching her carrying stolen goods,” Marnie said. “Unless she stole that baguette that was sticking out of the bag.”
“The evening is young.”
Time went by, and soon we’d been sitting in the car for more than an hour. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m getting bored here,” Bunny complained. “I think I’ll go home.”
“You’ll have to take a cab,” Marnie said, “because I’m not moving from here until we catch her in the act. I have a feeling something is going to happen tonight.”
Bunny sighed. “Fine. But whatever it is better happen soon. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” She snapped her fingers. “Let me out. I’ll go look through the windows. Maybe I can see something.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m sure she’s got everything safely hidden.”
“In that case I’ll see if I can get in.” Before anybody could comment, she swung the car door open and hopped out.
“What is she doing? Is she crazy?” Marnie said. “She’s going to get caught.”
A moment later, a small blue car turned the corner and came to a stop in front of Melinda’s house. Bunny dove behind a bush. The driver’s door opened and Liz Carter stepped out, dressed like a cat burglar.
We watched in silence as Liz threw a satchel over her shoulder and made her way to the front door. Seconds later Melinda let her in.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Marnie said. “Melinda and Liz are working together.”
“It’s possible. But it could also be totally innocent.”
“Innocent, my behind,” she said. Before I could think of what we should do, the front door opened again, and suddenly Liz Carter strode over to the bush where we’d last seen Bunny. Bunny stood up and went with Liz back into the house.
“Oh, shit,” I said. This looked like trouble. “You stay here and call the police. Or better yet, call Matthew.” I opened the door and jogged across the road to the house, slipping along the side of it. I tiptoed to a window and peeked inside. It looked into the living room.
Melinda was seated on the sofa with her back to me. Across from her, Bunny sat on a love seat, facing the window where I was. Liz was nowhere to be seen. After a minute of frantic waving, I realized that with the living room lights turned on, Bunny would never see me. I half crawled, half crouched along farther toward the back of the house, ruining my lovely dress in the process. I peered through one window after another until I spotted Liz, making coffee in the kitchen. And the domestic little scene shifted to one that made my heart race. She was fishing through her shoulder bag, pulling out a container—the same type of container the police had retrieved from Marnie’s garbage can. Cyanide! She dropped a spoonful into the pot and stirred. They’re going to poison Bunny! I snatched my cell phone from my pocket and pressed speed dial for Marnie.
“Where’s Matthew? Shouldn’t he be here by now?” I whispered.
“I only called him a few seconds ago. He’s probably still at least ten minutes away.”
“When he gets here, tell him that Liz just put cyanide into a pot of coffee. They’re planning to poison Bunny.” At that moment, Liz picked up the tray and left the kitchen. “Gotta go,” I said. I kept my phone turned on and slipped it into my pocket. With any luck Marnie would still be able to hear everything that was said. I ran around to the front and sneaked a peek through the living room window.
“She’s pouring the coffee. Shit. I have to do something.”
Through the glass, I faintly heard Liz tell them the coffee was decaf. “So you don’t have to worry about insomnia.”
“I sure hope you can hear me, Marnie,” I muttered. “And that you’ll step in to save me if I need it.” I scrambled for the front door, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. The door swung open and Melinda appeared.
“Della.” She leaned out and scanned the area—looking for witnesses? “What in the world are you doing here? It’s late.”
I pushed past her and went straight to the living room. “Bunny,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, “I’ve been waiting forever. You were supposed to come right back. What’s taking you so long?” Bunny stared at me wordlessly.
Standing next to her, Liz was staring at my feet. “What happened to your shoes?”
I looked down. They were muddy from traipsing through garden beds. “Now, how could that have happened?” I said. “I’m so ditzy sometimes. Come on, Bunny. Maybe you can afford staff, but I have to get up for work tomorrow.” Bunny started getting up, but Liz placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back into the sofa.
“Not so fast.” She turned to me. “Do you know what I caught your friend here doing?”
Melinda answered. “She was casing my house. I think she was going to come back and rob me later.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said.
“I’m not making this up,” she said, incensed. “Liz caught her spying thr
ough the window.”
“Let’s go, Bunny. We don’t have time for this.”
Before she could move, Liz reached inside her bag and pulled out a gun. She trained it on me. “Go sit by your friend.”
Whoa. When somebody points a gun at me, I do as told.
Melinda gasped. “Liz, what are you do—”
“Quiet, all of you. Let me think.” She seemed stuck in some terrible mental struggle. She swung to face Bunny. “I asked if you were by yourself, and you said yes. Now, is there anybody else out there?”
“She wasn’t lying,” I said, avoiding a direct answer. “I told her I was leaving, and I did. She didn’t know I would come back.” Liz hesitated, still in turmoil.
Melinda took a step toward her. “Calm down, Liz. Let’s not do anything we’ll regret. Put your gun away and let’s talk about this.”
Liz looked pensive for a moment, and then nodded. “You’re right,” she said, slipping her gun into her pocket. I would have felt better if she’d put it back in her bag. As it was, it would take her no more than a split second to pull it out again. “I don’t know what came over me,” she continued, sounding remorseful. “I’ve never overreacted this way. I guess I’m just paranoid because a killer is on the loose. I should know that you and Bunny wouldn’t harm a fly. I’m so sorry.” For all her seeming contrition, I felt certain she would pull the gun back out in a nanosecond if cornered.
“Let’s all just sit down and have a cup of coffee,” Melinda continued in a placating tone. “Della, why don’t you pour for everyone?” I picked up the pot with shaky hands. From Melinda’s reaction I guessed she wasn’t a part of this, whatever this was. I wondered if she was adding one and one and coming up with two, the way I had. I poured and offered the first cup to Liz.
“Why don’t you start with Bunny?” Liz said. I handed the cup to Bunny, sending meaningful glances at the cup and shaking my head imperceptibly. Panic flashed through her eyes and I knew she’d understood.
“So, if you weren’t reconnoitering in order to come back and steal from me,” Melinda said in a conversational tone as I offered her the next cup, “what were you doing?” Bunny threw Liz a worried look. Liz’s eyes narrowed.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” Bunny said, sending another nervous glance toward Liz, “but I thought Melinda was the thief who took my painting. I just wanted to look and see if I could figure out where she might be hiding it.”
“You thought I was the robber? Why would you think I had anything to do with that? I’m a baker, not an art thief!” Melinda exclaimed. She sounded so shocked that I began to think she was innocent of the robberies too. That would mean . . .
“But you were standing right next to the display when Marnie’s flag was stolen when the power went out,” Bunny said.
“Oh, so now you’re accusing me of stealing that too. For your information, I was nowhere near that display when the lights went out. I was clear across the room by the printing press.”
“Drink up, everyone,” Liz said. “Don’t let your coffee get cold.”
“Liz, you tell them,” Melinda said.
“Liz is the one who told me,” I said. I looked at her. “Didn’t you?”
Melinda was utterly confused. “Is that true? You said that? But don’t you remember? You were standing right next to me. You told everyone not to move while you tried to find the electric panel. I was still in the same spot when the lights came back on.”
“Let’s not get all excited over a misunderstanding,” Liz said. “Why don’t you sit down, Melinda? Drink your coffee before it gets cold. You too, Bunny, Della.” Melinda’s face fell, but she went back to the sofa and brought the cup to her mouth.
“Stop!” I screamed. “The coffee is laced with cyanide. She wants to poison us.”
Melinda looked stunned. She stared down at the cup in her hands, hesitating. “That’s ridiculous. Why would Liz want to poison me? She and I are old friends. Liz? What’s going on?”
“Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s just trying to make trouble.”
Melinda eyed the coffeepot. “Why didn’t you want a cup of coffee too?” she asked. She picked up her cup, handing it to Liz. “Here. If Della is lying, prove it. Take a sip.”
Liz slapped the cup out of her hand and coffee went flying everywhere. She snatched her gun from her pocket. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re leaving me no choice.” Her smile was more of a snarl. “You and I were never friends. You only moved here to be close to me, because of my brother. You were always obsessed with him. Never once did you ever spend time with me, without pumping me for information about him. What he was up to. If he was seeing anyone. So pathetic.”
Melinda’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. It was you. You killed him, didn’t you? You killed your own brother. But why?” Tears were now running down her cheeks. “Whatever Barry did, he didn’t deserve to die. You killed Helen too, didn’t you?”
“Helen should have minded her own damn business. When I was talking to her at the party, she was sure she recognized Barry. Turns out her sister had taken some pictures of Barry and sent them to Helen. Luckily, at the time Helen had misplaced those pictures, so she was never able to give them to the police. But after she got home, she called me and told me she had found them a few weeks earlier and was about to go to the police with them. I managed to calm her down and told her I was coming right over. As soon as I got there, I suggested we have tea, and then while she went to get the pictures to show them to me, I put cyanide in her cup.”
“So you took the pictures with you when you left,” I said, more to keep her talking than out of curiosity.
“Yes. But instead of being grateful, Barry was furious with me. I swear that man was getting soft in the head in his old age. He moved here to be close to me, his big sister,” she added in a singsong voice. “Of course, I’d never told him that Melinda lived in the next town. And then even when he got here and found out, he refused to move away.”
“Why did he want to stay?” Melinda asked with something like hope in her eyes. Did she imagine that he’d wanted to rekindle their romance?
Liz probably read her the same way because she said, “It wasn’t for you, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was for Marnie. Don’t ask me why, but he was crazy about the woman. I think he had a mother fixation. What an idiot. Didn’t he realize it was only a matter of time before it came out that Bruce wasn’t his real name? That he was a con artist.”
“But what you didn’t know,” I said, trying to keep her talking, “was that you left one picture behind at Helen’s house.”
“I know. She told me she had six pictures, but after I got home I realized I had only five. I went back later to search the house, but I never found the sixth one. But it doesn’t matter because Barry is dead. And now nobody can link him to me. Helen didn’t live to tell the tale and neither will you.”
“Why did you kill him?” Melinda asked again.
“He confronted me at the hotel that night, kept telling me I was a murderess and that he was going to turn me in. And then he figured out that I killed Sybille.”
“You killed Sybille?” Bunny said. “But why?”
“I think I know why,” I said. “Sybille used to work at the Art Institute of Chicago, in the human resources department. She gave you a job, didn’t she? And then what happened? Did she catch you trying to steal something?”
Liz laughed. “Close, but not quite—Barry talked her into hiring me as a night janitor. One day she stayed late for work and happened to catch me toying with the alarm system. As you can see, the girl had to go.”
It occurred to me that Nancy Cutler was a very lucky lady. If she had told anyone that she’d recognized Bruce as Brent, chances were she’d be dead too.
“You’ve been robbing museums all these years?” Bunny said.
“And jewelry stores, a
nd private residences,” Liz said. She seemed to be enjoying herself. “Anywhere I find something worthwhile. That’s how I came across some containers of cyanide. Museums use it all the time in restorations.”
“You must be very good,” I said, hoping flattery might get her to keep talking. Surely Matthew would show up soon.
“Enough with the chitchat,” she said. “Now drink your coffee.” She waved the gun. “Or would you rather get a bullet in the gut and bleed out slowly?”
“You can’t shoot us,” I said. “You know the police will work this case until they figure out what really happened.”
She gave me a haughty smile. “Oh, they’ll figure it out all right. They’ll know that Melinda stole the flag and Bunny’s painting.”
“I did no such thing,” Melinda said.
Liz widened her eyes. “Oh, but you did. The proof is in the hall closet.”
Melinda gasped. “You planted something in there. What is it? Bunny’s painting? But, how—how did you get in?”
“Oh, sweetheart. Give me a little credit, please. I can get into museums with advanced security systems. Do you really think one little lock would be an obstacle to me?” She smirked. “The police will think that little miss sleuth, Della, and her buddy, Bunny here, came over and confronted you. So you pulled out your gun and shot them, and then, realizing what you’d done, you decided the only way out was an exit by cyanide. Good plan—don’t you think?”
“There are three of us and one of you. You can’t shoot us all at the same time,” Melinda said desperately.
“Don’t worry. I can work this scenario a few different ways.” She raised her gun.
Suddenly there was loud banging at the front door. “Police. Open up!”
In one swift movement, Liz grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me to my feet, and swung me around so that I became her shield. She pressed the barrel against my temple.
“Tell them if they don’t get away from the door, you’re dead.”
Weave of Absence Page 24