Win rose and held out his hand. “Of course, Luis. Such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Luis smiled and tipped his graying head. “And you, sir. You’re as charming as our phone conversations. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, Luis took his leave in a flurry of expensive shoes and the ocean breeze blowing in from the open door.
As the jazz music played over the sound system, my worries about Cleo deepened.
“So it looks bad for Cleo,” I commented in a low voice, running my finger around the rim of the coffee cup, feeling positively miserable.
“It doesn’t look terribly good, Dove. However, I have to have faith in Luis’s skill as a lawyer. He’s certainly gotten you out of a few messes, yes? Let’s not give up the ship yet.”
“Well, I haven’t declared it the Titanic. I’m still clinging to my life raft, but I worry about how long it can stay afloat.”
We sat silent for a moment, each of us sipping our late-afternoon coffee, the wheels obviously turning in our heads, when a young blonde woman approached us, her fingers twisting together in a nervous knot.
As she neared, her pretty, youthful face, lightly tanned, appeared hesitant.
“You’re Madam Zoltar, right?”
I smiled at her and pointed to my tote. “Was it the turban poking out of my purse or my ungodly, unfashionable muumuu?” I asked, plucking at the satiny material with a brocade neckline I’d forgotten to remove before we left to meet Luis.
Her face relaxed a bit and she tinkled a small laugh. “I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are, Miss Cartwright.”
Chuckling, I patted Luis’s empty chair with a smile. Sometimes people approached me out of the blue, wanting to talk about a recent death in their family or a ghostly experience, but they were always nervous because of the unfamiliar territory.
They were embarrassed to believe the possibility might exist. I suspected from her hesitancy, that’s what this was about.
“Have a seat, if you’d like,” I offered pleasantly.
She eyed Win, but her green eyes flitted away and her cheeks went bright red. I understood that sheepish gaze all too well. Women always behaved like this around my International Man of Mystery—breathless and inevitably bowled over that he was as handsome up close as he was from afar.
Win jumped up and pulled the chair out for her. As she took a seat, he asked, “Might I get you a coffee or perhaps tea, Miss…?”
She grinned up at Win, her long, dark eyelashes fluttering. “Walcott. Eleanor Walcott. And no, but thank you, Mr…?”
Win smiled back, making her blush harder before he took his seat once more. “Win. Call me Win, and very well then. Though the hazelnut mocha is really quite something. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
She smiled but still shook her head. “No, really. I’m good, but thank you anyway. I only have a couple of minutes before I have to be at work at the country club. I’m a waitress there.”
Putting my elbow on the table, I cupped my chin in my hand and looked into her pretty heart-shaped face. “How can we help you, Eleanor?”
Licking her pink-glossed lips, she folded her hands together on the tabletop, her silver rings shiny under the lights of the coffee shop. “Like I said, I work at the…the country club.”
My ears perked up, and Win stirred, but we were both careful not to appear too anxious. “How nice. Do you like the work?”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean working for all those rich snobs who look down their noses at anyone who doesn’t drive a German car and wear clothes by designers whose names you can’t pronounce? Nope. I hate it. But it’ll help pay for college and that’s all I care about. It pays me well enough—even if I have to put up with a lot of garbage. And the tips are okay, too.”
Well, that made up for all those times I’d wondered what having steak for lunch was like. “I’m sorry about how awful people are, but it’s good to hear you have a goal. I’m all about young women persevering to empower themselves. So how can I help?”
She leaned in, her finely boned hand cupping the side of her mouth. “You’re the lady…or now I guess, the couple, who investigate stuff, right? Like that show my GG watches in reruns. Um, Hart to Hart or something.”
Her question caught me a little off guard. I had a reputation, no doubt, but it didn’t always work in my favor. However, her description made me smile.
I took the last sip of my coffee before I asked, “Is that what people are saying about us?”
Her slender shoulders lifted a bit. “It’s what my GG says. She said Win reminds her of Robert Wagner with a British accent and he’s better-looking to boot.” Then she snorted ever so lightly, clearly embarrassed by her admission.
Grinning at my British Robert Wagner, I tapped the table and winked. “Well, well, look at you and your reputation preceding you.”
Win chuckled, setting his mug aside. “Do thank your grandmother for the compliment. It’s quite flattering.”
Eleanor’s cheeks fairly glowed. “Anyway, everyone says you guys are the ones to go to when a crime needs solving, and I have some information I think might help.”
Aw, man. I was dying to know what she had, but the right thing to do was to direct her to Detective Moore. Right?
Right.
Did I actually do that?
Sort of…
“You really should take it directly to the police, Eleanor. If it can help with the investigation, you’re better off.”
Her mouth thinned and she shot me a guilty look as she shook her sun-kissed head firmly. “Nuh-uh! No, ma’am. I can’t get involved in something like this! I’m just getting my life together. I got into a lot of trouble with the law off and on a couple of years ago. Every cop in the department knows who I am, and they all think I’m a liar.” She paused for a moment and looked down at her hands. “And sometimes…sometimes I did lie…”
I remained silent because I didn’t know what else to say, but Eleanor slapped the table with her palm. “But I swear to you, Madame Zoltar, I’m not lying now, and I really liked that lady Cleo. She tipped me super well after all the ruckus that bunch of rich chicks made, and she stopped that freak from yelling at me when I got her order wrong.”
My eyes zoomed in on Eleanor’s face and her lips, currently twisted into a bitter line. “Freak? Can you explain?”
“Uh-huh. The mean one with the dark hair and scary eyes who looks like she’s some kind of gang leader. She’s awful.”
Win’s face went hard, his jaw tightening. “Do you mean Leslie Cleary?”
Eleanor rolled up the sleeves of the baggy plaid top she wore over a pink cropped shirt. “I think that’s her name. Anyway, we all heard her friend Cleo was arrested today because they say she murdered some guy, but I don’t believe it. None of us do. Cleo’s always been nice to us whenever she comes home to visit her family and they have dinner at the club, and that’s what made me come to you. All the guys in the kitchen confirmed you two were who I should talk to, since I’m too afraid to go to the police, who’ll just drag me over the coals.”
I nodded with understanding. There was Detective Starsky to consider, after all. “I still don’t understand how you think we can help, Miss Walcott?”
Eleanor shrugged, her expression sheepish. “I thought maybe if I told you what I heard, you could let it slip to the police so I have zip to do with it?”
Win reached over and ran a napkin over the corner of my mouth. Was I salivating? Probably. But this was a clue. I felt it.
I batted his hand away and smiled at Eleanor. “Okay, hit me with what you have.”
Leaning in farther, her eyes wide, she whispered, “I heard that grouch on the phone. She’d gone outside to smoke a cigarette when I was taking out the trash, and she sounded really angry as she paced back and forth. She was yelling into the phone. She said, and I remember every word, ‘I’m going to kill him. I swear it! Doug is going to die.’”
My mouth fell open.
&
nbsp; And Win was kind enough to gently push it shut.
Did the murder just solve itself?
Nah.
It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?
Chapter 12
As we walked toward The Cozy Nook in the hopes of speaking with Leslie and Linda, I let the cool breeze wash over my warm cheeks. We’d gone back to Madam Z’s to finish cleaning up and I’d changed back into my cute sundress, giving me plenty of time to think about what Eleanor had told us.
Which, as I’m sure you know, isn’t always a good thing. I’m the queen of projection. By the time I’m done dissecting a crime to the furthest reaches of the universe, I could find a way to pin the blame on Gandhi.
I looked forward at the water now in front of us, crystalline and blue as seagulls hovered by the beach and colorful sails bobbed along the waves, absorbing this latest development.
“You can’t really believe it’s that easy, can you, Win? It’s never that easy.”
“What do you mean, Dove? Figuring out the killer?”
“No. Finding the directions to the Fountain of Youth. Yes, figuring out the killer! It can’t be as simple as Leslie threatening Doug’s life and a waitress overhearing her, can it?”
“Why not?” he asked, but I could tell he was distracted by his own thoughts on the case.
I stopped on the sidewalk and made a face. “Because that’s not how it works for us. Not ever. I haven’t been hurt yet. My nose hasn’t been knocked half off my face and my tailbone’s still intact. I haven’t even been called so much as a quack yet. It’s doesn’t work that way, Win.”
His smile was devilish as he lifted his sunglasses from his nose and his eyes smiled at me. “Well, ’tis only late afternoon, day one of the investigation. Give it time, Dove. Though, don’t forget, Leslie did call you a charlatan.”
“That’s true, but at least I’m not a murderer.”
Win clucked his tongue in admonishment. He always did that when he disapproved. “Now, Dove, you don’t know if Leslie’s the one who murdered Doug. Eleanor did say one of the young men she works with, erm, Ryan Gimble, has some information, too. She said he was going to the police with it, remember?”
Eleanor had said that, and I had every intention of going to the country club and talking to him. Until then, I pinned my hopes on Leslie.
“Forget Ryan for now. I mean, come on. Leslie actually said he’s going to die, Win. There’s a witness. A very cute, kissed-by-the-sun witness. What more is there to say? Leslie sure fits the profile of a killer, if her aggressive, gloomy nature is any indication.”
Win pulled me along beside him as we began walking again. “And as we both know, she could have been talking to anyone. Also, let us take into consideration the fact that Eleanor isn’t known for her truthfulness.”
“But she admits that. Besides, what motive does she have to lie about what Leslie said? Leslie pitching a fit because Eleanor got her order wrong is hardly a reason to make up a story about her murdering someone.”
“That’s certainly an astute observation, but people lie for various degrees of offense to their person.” He stopped under a tree where no one was about and looked up at the sky. “Arkady can attest, once a diplomat from Sardinia lied about a harmless house servant’s involvement in espionage for doing nothing more than glancing at his wife—whom, I might add, was quite attractive. Am I right, good man?”
Arkady chuckled. “Dah. Is true, my English muffin. Jealousy and lust are powerful motivators, malutka. He was a very jealous, stupid man.”
“But Eleanor has nothing to be jealous of. She’s just got a bad rap because of her storied past.”
“That feels quite naïve, Dove. I think we should consider her suspect. At least a little.”
Okay. He was right and my bleeding heart was getting in the way of my logic. “You’re right. But for the record, people can change, and she’s trying to do the right thing now. That’s what’s important. She paid her dues.”
Win lifted his blue eyes. “No one knows that better than we do, eh, Arkady?”
“Dah, Zero. We have changed, haven’t we, comrade?”
Win chuckled and bobbed his head as we began walking again. “Indeed, we have, old friend. Regardless, it doesn’t mean Leslie’s the killer we’re looking for, Dove, and believe you me, there’s nothing I’d love more than to prove that vulgar woman is a killer, but her public rage alone isn’t enough evidence to prove anything other than she has a hair trigger of a temper.”
“Okay, while that’s true, let’s look at the evidence. First, there’s the fact that she likely had access to the cake server, right? She is bridesmaid number three. She probably could have gotten her hands on Cleo’s hoodie, too. So as far as I’m concerned, what’s left but to book ’em, Danno?”
I so wanted it to be Leslie if it meant saving Cleo. And that was wrong. I should only want justice, but if I had to choose…
He tucked my arm under his as we strolled. “’Twere it only that simply, beloved. Of course, plenty of people could have had access to that cake server. Everyone from the country club staff to one of the bridesmaids, or even the bride herself. However, I think we both know your initial assessment is correct. Leslie being the answer is too easy.”
We walked the rest of the way to the motel in silence, the only sound our footsteps and the seagulls’ cries.
As we approached the front doors of The Cozy Nook, I stopped for a moment, tugging on Win’s sleeve. “You do know Leslie’s not going to want to have anything to do with you after you kicked her out of the store, right?”
He held up three fingers and gave me a somber look. “I promise to remain quiet the entire conversation. Scout’s honor.”
I tugged on his shirt sleeve. “I don’t want you to do that. We’re in this together, buddy. I just want you to realize she might not open up to us as readily when she sees you. I expect her to be reluctant with me, but for sure she’ll be reluctant with you.”
Win’s eyebrow rose. “Is reluctant the word or is it snarly? Or rabid, perhaps?”
I laughed as I texted Linda, who’d promised to rope Leslie into coming down to the lobby to meet with us. “C’mon. Let’s go catch a killer.”
We stepped inside as the automatic doors swung open and were greeted by Adelaide Leveque’s broad smile. “Stevie! Look at you, pretty as a picture, as always. How are you?” She came around the granite countertop that served as their registration desk and pulled me into a hug.
I was surprised by her enthusiasm, considering her motel had become the scene of a murder. Police were crawling all over the place, clearly doing the canvassing Luis mentioned. Yet Adelaide was cheery as ever in her flowing skirt and loose cotton top.
I hugged her back, inhaling the scent of her musky perfume. “I’m fine. We’re here to meet two of your guests. But forget us. The real question is, how are you and Merle?”
Now she sighed, her soft brown eyes full of sympathy. “Isn’t it awful? But I can’t think of me right now. All I can think of is that poor, sweet Cleo. She’s such a nice girl. When I looked back, I realized I’ve known her all her life. You don’t really think…?”
“She killed her husband?” I asked directly. I shook my head when Adelaide indicated that was exactly what she wondered. “No. We don’t think so either, Adelaide.”
She gripped my hand and gave it a squeeze, her skin soft against mine, and exhaled a sigh of relief. “I hear you and your handsome gentleman here are the murder-solving gurus, so I trust what you say.”
How ironic that in the years since my return to Eb Falls, I’d gone from murder suspect to murder-solving guru. Why didn’t Dana feel the same way?
“I make no guarantees that’s certain, but my gut tells me Cleo didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Adelaide put her aging hand to her throat and twisted her fingers around the gold cross she wore. “Well, that’s certainly a relief, and you know, however Merle and I can help, we will. Cleo is always such a joy to be ar
ound.”
Win held out his hand to her and smiled. “I’m Stevie’s gentleman. Win. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She tinkled a laugh, the way all women do when my fiancé breathes their way. Lovely to meet you, too.”
“Have the police talked to you, Mrs. Leveque? Questioned you?”
She twittered a hand and grinned with a bat of her eyelashes. “Please, call me Adelaide, and yes. They gave us the once-over but good.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions while we wait for Leslie and Linda, Adelaide?”
“Of course not, dear. How can I help?”
I asked her all the usual stuff: if she’d seen anyone suspicious, if she’d heard anything, but there wasn’t much she told me that everyone else hadn’t already.
“I never even saw him. Not once, I tell you. And we don’t give out information on our guests. So if he found out Cleo was staying here, it wasn’t from us.”
I knew there was no point in asking about the video. So I decided to reassure her and move on.
Patting her lightly tanned arm, I nodded. “I believe you, Adelaide, and thank you. If you think of anything, you’ll give me a ring, won’t you?”
She reached out and squeezed my arm again just as the silver elevator doors pinged open and Leslie and Linda strolled out. “Of course.”
“Oh, no flippin’ way, Linda! I’m not talking to them!” I heard Leslie complain. “That guy’s a douchecanoe. Forget it. I can’t believe you tricked me into coming down here!”
But Linda grabbed her arm and dragged her to where we stood. “Yes, you will talk to them, because Cleo asked us to let them help. Or do you have something to hide?”
Cleo had asked them to let us help? Wow. I was getting love for my investigative skills all over the place these days. Maybe we should ditch ghost surfing and take up private detecting?
Leslie rolled her neck and stuck her face in her friend’s space. “Shut your face, Linda. Of course I don’t. You know I don’t.”
But Linda didn’t back down. No. In fact, she got right back in Leslie’s face as she pointed to the small lobby with the floral couch and winged chairs. “Good. Then sit your butt down and answer the questions they ask you because our friend is in jail for murder! She’s in a lot of trouble, Leslie, and maybe they can help. Do you hear me? You’d better cooperate, or so help me…”
Where There's A Witch, There's A Way (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 13) Page 11