by Lee Hollis
“Boy, you really thought this out, didn’t you?”
“I read a lot of trashy novels.”
“It sounds like a popular theory.”
“No, I just thought of it. Nobody else knows about it,” Hayley said, and then realized what he meant. “Oh, you mean plausible. It sounds like a plausible theory.”
“Yes, Hayley. That’s what I said.”
No, he didn’t.
But why argue?
“But we are going to need hard evidence if we ever hope to make an arrest, especially since we are still stumped as to how they did it.”
Hayley was certain of one thing.
After getting manhandled by Ken and nearly choked by Tiffany, she was more determined than ever to bring this small-town Bonnie and Clyde to justice.
Chapter 21
When Hayley and the kids got home from dinner at Randy and Sergio’s, Hayley quickly checked to make sure they did their homework and rushed them off to their rooms. She then cleaned up the kitchen, inspected the dog and kitty bowls to make sure there was enough dry food to satisfy them until the morning, and dragged herself upstairs to her bedroom, where she disrobed, pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt, and climbed on top of her comforter, cradling her laptop to begin making a few notes on her next column, which was due by the following midday.
Leroy padded into the room. After a few attempts to jump up on a bed that was way too high for him to reach, Hayley leaned over the side and scooped him up, his tail wagging excitedly. He settled down next to her and closed his eyes. Blueberry sauntered into the room only a few seconds later. His own tail was swishing, but not out of excitement. It was more out of contempt. He obviously didn’t want to be alone downstairs, but he certainly was not going to give Hayley or Leroy the satisfaction of knowing he wanted to be in their company. He plopped down on a woven area rug by the foot of the bed and licked himself clean.
Hayley was trying to come up with the perfect holiday recipe when her phone rang. She hoped that it might be Aaron calling to wish her a good night and say he missed her.
No such luck.
It was Liddy.
Hayley pressed the talk button. “Hey, how was the party?”
“I rocked it!” Liddy gushed, shouting so loud that Hayley had to pull the phone away from her ear. “When I swept into the Northeast Harbor Club on Sonny’s arm, wearing my Dolce and Gabbana sleeveless full-skirt lace combo in bright red for the holidays, jaws dropped! It was everything the woman at Bergdorf Goodman said it would be!”
Liddy had just returned from one of her famous shopping trips in New York City the weekend before.
“I’m sure you looked smashing!” Hayley said, a little envious that Liddy had such a sizable clothing budget due to her real estate successes. Hayley’s biggest wardrobe splurge this month was a discounted Liz Claiborne faux-wrap sweater dress at JCPenney and she found a tear in the fabric after she wore it just once.
“I know some of the small-minded people in this town have been judging my relationship with Sonny because I’m a few years older than he is!” Liddy screamed.
Sonny was twelve years younger than Liddy.
“So it was my mission to look fabulous and just blow people’s minds and put to rest this ridiculous obsession they have with our age difference!”
“Liddy, why are you yelling?”
“Sorry! I am in bed with Sonny and he’s snoring so loud right now I can’t hear myself think!”
Oh, dear God.
“Hold on, Hayley! I’m going to try to get him to stop!”
She heard a loud honking sound and heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. It cut off for a few seconds and was followed by short, loud gasps. Suddenly she heard Liddy howl, as if in pain.
“Liddy! Liddy! Are you there? What’s wrong?”
“Damn it! I pinched his nose closed to get him to stop snoring and he took a swing at me in his sleep! His hand hit the side of my nose! My cute pert nose is one of my best features!”
“Can we please resume this conversation in the morning? I really don’t want to picture you in bed with Sonny.”
“No! I didn’t just call you to let you know how jealous those spiteful, judgmental bitches at the party were of me tonight, I have actual, useful information.”
“About what?”
“What?” Liddy screeched.
“I said, ‘About what’!”
“Sonny! Sonny! Wake up! I can’t hear what Hayley’s saying! Sonny!”
She was obviously trying to shake him awake, but to no avail.
The snoring and wheezing and heavy breathing were deafening.
“This is what happens when he drinks too much! I had to drive home because he spent too much time at the punch bowl bragging to his golfing buddies about all of the big cases he’s working on.”
Sonny was a fresh-faced young attorney in town who recently set up his own practice right out of law school. He had been successfully poaching some high-profile clients from the shingle of Ted Rivers, Bar Harbor’s longtime premier lawyer.
“Liddy, I have to work tomorrow! I can’t be up all night! What kind of information do you have for me?”
“It’s about the Garth Rawlings murder!”
Hayley sat up in bed with a start. Her laptop fell off to one side, smacking into an irked Leroy, who had to adjust his sleeping position.
“What, Liddy? What did you find out?”
“Well, you know how Sonny is—young and idealistic. He’s always going on and on about his professional ethics until I want to put a gun to my head. He takes all that attorney-client-privilege crap way too seriously.”
“That kind of goes with the territory.”
“Please! I’m his girlfriend. He should be able to tell me anything. Anyway, I heard a couple of gossipy hens by the dessert table talking about Garth Rawlings and how rumor was he was planning to divorce his wife because she was cheating on him.”
So word was getting out.
“I already know that, Liddy. She’s been sleeping with Ken Massey.”
“Okay, fine! Way to steal my thunder! But did you know there was an ironclad prenup?”
“What?”
“Well, I guess you haven’t uncovered every clue, now have you?”
“How did those women know about the prenup?”
“They didn’t!” Liddy screamed over Sonny’s earsplitting snores. “Just a minute, Hayley! I’m going into the bathroom.”
After a few seconds of sighing and shuffling and a door slamming, Liddy was back on the line. “After I heard them talking, I got to thinking. With all of Garth’s business holdings, if he was going to file for divorce, then he would most certainly have to hire a crackerjack lawyer. Garth would never go to Ted Rivers because Ted hated him.”
“He did?”
“Yes. Don’t you remember? Ted’s wife, Sissy, hired Garth to cater a cocktail party at their house last year and Garth had put peanut oil into one of his dipping sauces. Ted has a peanut allergy and blew up like a blowfish and was hospitalized for two days.”
“I don’t know how I missed that one.”
“Anyway, there is only one other lawyer in town with the killer reputation of a barracuda, and that’s my Sonny.”
“This is all starting to come together now. We both know how loose-lipped Sonny can get when he’s been drinking.”
“That’s right. I made sure his plastic cup was full of spiked punch all night long. Then, when the party was winding down, I confiscated his car keys and got him singing like a bird all the way home. According to the prenup, Tiffany was going to get nothing if they divorced due to infidelity. Just a small monthly stipend for living expenses. All of the stocks, bonds, and the entire business would remain his.”
“Let me guess. But if Garth died when they were still married, she would get it all.”
“Every penny. But there’s one thing that doesn’t make sense. Garth was the face of the catering business. He was the one with the talent. T
iffany may be a smart, conniving black widow, but can she even boil water?”
“She wouldn’t have to. The public would be rooting for her. Picking up the pieces after the devastating loss of her husband, trying to carry on. She would have access to all of his secret recipes. She could hire a couple of culinary-school grads to re-create Garth’s most sought-after dishes. After a few successful parties and events, she could then confess she has no head for numbers and decide to bring in her husband’s former partner to help run the business side of things. Publicly beg him. ‘Do it for Garth,’ she would say. Ken would then ride in like a knight in shining armor to the rescue. It’s the perfect arrangement. Together they can take the business to the next level as a tribute to Tiffany’s beloved late husband. Before you know it, she’s Maine’s answer to Rachael Ray, paving the way for cookbooks, a kitchenware line, maybe a cable-TV show. Everything Garth dreamed of for himself.”
“And no one would have any idea they had planned the whole thing from the beginning,” Liddy said. “That’s cold.”
“Having seen the nasty side of both Ken and Tiffany, it’s very easy for me to believe.”
Yes. It was a solid theory.
But the nagging question still remained.
How? How did they do it?
Chapter 22
Hayley spent the following day catching up on her office workload, avoiding Bruce who still found it impossible to be in the same room with her, and coddling Sal, who managed to blow up a minor case of the sniffles into a full-on flu attack. The only bright spot in her day was a text from Aaron asking her to join him that evening for the Christmas tree lighting ceremony in the village green.
She rushed home after work to change into a nice red cashmere sweater her mother had given her last Christmas and some dark slacks she had bought with the Macy’s gift card that the kids bought her for Mother’s Day. There wasn’t much she could do with her frizzy hair, because it would take too long to heat up her curling iron, so she tied as much of it back in a ponytail as she could and put on a sporty gray Stetson cashmere beanie hat, which Liddy had received from her mother last Christmas. Liddy wore it once and decided she hated it, so she regifted it to Hayley for her birthday. Thank God for holidays and birthdays—otherwise, Hayley would be going out naked.
Hayley desperately wanted to put her best foot forward with Aaron. Really make an effort. Because she hadn’t been the most available girlfriend lately, and she wanted to make sure he knew that she was still committed to the relationship.
She left the house in plenty of time to walk to the village green and meet Aaron at the appointed time of six o’clock, and she even arrived a few minutes early. The town band, made up of ten local musicians, played Christmas carols in the village green gazebo. Children ran around, chasing each other and making angels in the snow that had fallen the night before. A large crowd was gathering around the massive ten-foot-thick pine tree beautifully decorated by local volunteers with handmade ornaments.
Hayley checked her watch: 6:03 P.M.
“Hey, cut me some slack for being a few minutes late,” Aaron said. “I had to deal with a sick schnauzer who ate an entire chocolate Santa. It’s an epidemic this time of year.”
Hayley looked up to see Aaron, who looked dapper in a burgundy wool sweater and an open L.L. Bean navy warm-up jacket, standing in front of her.
He leaned in and kissed her . . . on the cheek.
That didn’t seem like a particularly good sign.
“I’ve missed you,” Hayley said.
“Well, we’ve both been busy.”
Hayley nodded, not quite sure what to say.
There was a pregnant pause in the air that felt like it lasted a full five minutes, but more than likely was just a few seconds.
“How’s Lex?” Aaron asked, clearing his throat.
“Bansfield?”
Of course he means Lex Bansfield. How many men named Lex live in Bar Harbor?
She had to deal with this now, before it drove a further wedge between them. It was time to address the uninvited kiss at the hospital and the rampant town gossip that quickly followed.
“He’s on the mend. Resting at home. Aaron—”
“I’ve been debating with myself on how to bring this up, and I wasn’t sure when or if I was going to do it tonight, but my gut is telling me just to come right out with it. So here goes. Do you still have feelings for him?”
The question startled Hayley.
Not that she was at a loss for an answer.
She was just surprised he beat her to it.
“Okay, I was hoping you might answer a little quicker than that,” Aaron said, frowning.
“No, Aaron. I don’t. Lex and I are just friends now. What we had is over,” Hayley said, staring straight into his eyes.
Owning it.
Meaning it.
Believing it.
“And I’m very happy being with you.”
Aaron studied Hayley’s face and body language, trying to size up her sincerity.
“Okay,” Aaron said, putting his arms around her and hugging her.
She rested her head against his broad chest.
But then he let go and took a step back.
It felt too soon—almost as if he was eager to distance himself.
He still wasn’t 100 percent convinced.
And that bothered her because she knew she was speaking from the heart. And she didn’t know how else to convey her true feelings.
Suddenly the sounds of children screaming jarred her out of her own thoughts. All of the little kids in the park raced toward the gazebo, where Santa Claus was arriving on the scene. Two horses—both wearing colorful red-and-white fleeces, sashes made of wreaths, and hoods with reindeer antlers—pulled a red buggy decorated with garland. Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus, gussied up in their traditional costumes, waved to the crowd while an elf on the carriage top held the reins. A giant sack of presents donated by the townspeople was stuffed in the back. The excited children surrounded the buggy as Mr. and Mrs. Claus tossed small plastic-wrapped candy canes to them, causing a near riot as the children fought to scoop them up off the ground.
Hayley recognized Santa as the esteemed judge Ronald Carter, and Mrs. Claus was Mayor Eliza Richards. In real life the two despised each other, but they chose to bury the hatchet at least temporarily to portray the North Pole’s royal couple for the sake of the local rug rats. It took a little more time to recognize the elf driving Santa’s sleigh. But since she had just seen him at the gym the day before, it quickly came to her.
Rusty Wyatt.
His taut muscles from working out every day were camouflaged by an oversize red-and-green felt tunic. You could still admire his defined calf muscles because of the matching tights—one leg red, one leg green. A plush red-and-green hat that had giant ears on the sides covered his curly blond hair, and pointy shoes with bells on the tip were on his feet.
Judging by the hangdog look on his face, Hayley guessed Rusty was not too happy in his subservient role to jolly ole Saint Nick. Hayley surmised that poor Rusty was strong-armed into participating in the Christmas tree lighting. Judge Carter probably excused some unpaid parking tickets or disorderly conduct on the condition Rusty play ball and was undoubtedly backed up by the mayor.
Rusty jumped down from the carriage top and angrily shooed the kids away as he held out a hand to help Mrs. Claus out of the carriage first. As she stepped down, she gave him a dead stare, adjusting her tiny reading glasses. Rusty quickly forced a smile on his face.
Santa was next, waving to the kids with one white-gloved hand while rubbing his belly with the other. Hayley knew there was no pillow underneath the red coat. Judge Carter was naturally hefty, given his penchant for huge prime rib dinners and rich, decadent desserts.
As Santa and Mrs. Claus greeted the children, Rusty stormed off toward a beverage stand that offered hot drinks, on the far side of the park, away from all the commotion. The stand was run by Mr. Streinz, a local a
ccountant, whose family had emigrated from Germany when he was a child. Mr. Streinz loved to re-create the authentic feel of a German Christmas market, which he so enjoyed as a little boy. His biggest seller this time of year was Feuerzangenbowle, a traditional German alcoholic drink. It featured a sugar cube flambéed with rum, then dripped into mulled wine. Hayley watched as Rusty slapped a few dollar bills down on the counter and barked something to Mr. Streinz, who went about fixing him his signature hot beverage.
Hayley turned to Aaron. “We still have a few more minutes before the lighting. Why don’t I go get us something to drink?”
“Make it strong. It’s been a long day.”
“Mr. Streinz has just what you need,” Hayley said, smiling.
By the time she weaved through the crowd and made her way over to Mr. Streinz, there was no sign of Rusty.
“Gute Nacht, Hayley!”
“Gute Nacht. I would like two of your fergie . . . zebra . . . bowels. . . .”
“Feuerzangenbowle,” he said.
“Yes. That. Two of those.”
“Zwei! Coming right up!”
She reached for her wallet in her bag, when she heard bells ringing. They were coming from behind a large oak tree a few feet away. She walked over and could hear a man talking. She peered around the tree to see Rusty pacing back and forth; the tiny bells on the tips of his pointy felt shoes were tinkling. His cell phone was clamped to his ear as he raged to someone on the other end of the phone through clenched teeth. He wasn’t concerned with being overheard because most of the crowd was on the other side of the park.
“Don’t you dare threaten me, Ken! We both know the damage I can do if you don’t do exactly what I want!”
Ken Massey.
Obviously, the two chummy, muscle-bound workout buddies with the “airtight alibis” were now on the outs.