Pasta Mortem

by Ellery Adams

  James handed it to her. “Cubic zirconia. How did you know?”

  “Pat Hearne, Ray Edwards’s attorney, called me right at five o’clock. She’d received a call from the handwriting expert. The will Kitty had wasn’t written by Edwards. Pat said it wasn’t even a good fake. I’ll return the ring to the evidence room tonight.”

  “So Kitty tried to con everyone. Did she really think she could get away with it?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Criminals always think they can get away with their crimes, James, otherwise they wouldn’t commit them. Brandon said that Kitty didn’t want for anything, remember? So I guess this was greed, pure and simple.”

  “You told me Murphy said Edwards made her the beneficiary of the corporate life insurance policy, not Kitty. Between that and the ring being fake, I wonder what Kitty’s relationship with Edwards actually was.”

  “They were living together in Edwards’s house, according to Pat.”

  James raised his eyebrows. “Well, then they were lovers, at least.”

  “Possibly. The thing is that Pat told me she never could detect any warmth between them. She said they acted like roommates. Maybe Edwards did love Murphy.”

  “But if Kitty was successful, why would she need a roommate?”

  Lucy bit her lip. “Good question. I wonder if Kitty owned any property of her own.”

  “You’d think she would, being a Realtor.”

  “I can find out. Glenn Truett was at the courthouse when I left. He can log into our data information system and find out. He might have already done it,” Lucy mused. “Can you wait a few minutes?”

  James nodded.

  They walked through to Lucy’s blue and white kitchen. The microwave dinged. Lucy took a frozen lasagna dinner out and placed it on a trivet shaped like a rooster. She looked at James ruefully. “Closest I could get to the Mediterranean diet in a hurry.”

  “I had a microwaveable frozen angel hair pasta primavera for lunch. No judgment from me on your lasagna.”

  Lucy made the call to her fellow deputy. James watched as she wrote down information on the back of an envelope. “Thanks, Glenn. Yeah, go on home and forward calls to me.”

  She disconnected and then picked up her tablet from the kitchen counter. James could hear the dogs at the back door. Lucy said, “I’ve got to let them in before they get cold. But listen to this, James. Truett had pulled Kitty’s property records. Under the name Kathy Richardson, five years ago she bought a million-dollar home in Spring Farm, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Louisville, if not the wealthiest.”

  “But she doesn’t live there?”

  “Nope. And Truett says she doesn’t rent it out either. Here it is on Google Maps,” Lucy said, turning the tablet screen so James could see.

  James saw an impressive brick home meticulously landscaped with rich green grass, azalea bushes, boxwood hedges, and a small stone fountain in the middle of the long walkway from the street to the double front doors. He squinted at the screen. “That red car in the driveway. It’s a BMW, don’t you think?”

  Lucy turned the tablet toward her. “I’d say so. Let me see the satellite image. Wow, there’s an in-ground pool in the back. Can’t tell for sure about the car. But it’s not the one Kitty brought to Cardinal’s Rest. She drove a Lexus.”

  James saw the time on Lucy’s oven. “I’ve got to go. We should talk more about this tomorrow. Do you have any objection to me sending out an email to the rest of the supper club members letting them know what we’ve learned?”

  Lucy walked him to the door. “No, go ahead.”

  His hand on the doorknob, James said, “I assume Sheriff Huckabee let Murphy go.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Still holding her.”

  “Really? I thought by now he would have had to release her.”

  “Not on a possible murder charge, especially since this would be the second one. Her lawyer’s throwing fits, but the sheriff’s arranged for Murphy to go before a judge tomorrow afternoon. It’s likely he’ll rescind bail since she’s a suspect in Kitty Walters’s murder too.”

  On the drive home, James tried not to think about Murphy in her jail cell. “Focus, you’ve got to focus,” James told himself. Brandon or Joel? Who had the most to gain from both Edwards’s death and Kitty’s?

  It had to be Joel. The baby-faced magazine editor must have had a falling-out with Edwards regarding the Honeybee Heaven Farms Corporation. Once Joel saw how big the development plans were and their potential effect on Quincy’s Gap, not to mention the national attention the scheme had brought, maybe he decided he needed a bigger share. He could have found Edwards, argued with him, then later killed him, knowing that Murphy would be blamed. But how had he gotten into the room? Did he know about the secret passage?

  Then there was the handsome heartthrob, Brandon. Seemingly part of the idle rich, or at least well-off enough not to have to worry about money. James remembered that flash of negative emotion that passed between Kitty and Brandon at the reunion when Kitty said she might invest in the corporation. Why would Brandon be angry about that? In fact, James wasn’t convinced when Brandon had said he “couldn’t be bothered” with the investment. Didn’t rich people jump at the chance to increase their wealth? Then James thought about how Brandon claimed not to have known that Kitty had been an actress. While he knew Los Angeles was a big town, and the two might not have been there at the same time, didn’t it stand to reason that Kitty would mention her own acting career when she met both Brandon and Joel since they were actors themselves?

  Acting, that’s what those two men were doing when James and Lucy had questioned them.

  James pulled into the driveway of the house on Hickory Hill Lane. He cut the engine of the Bronco. His heart swelled when he looked at the glow of lights coming from the windows of the small two-story house. Miss Pickles was silhouetted in an upstairs window, keeping watch over the neighborhood.

  Inside, James knew his family was there, waiting for him to come home and complete them. Pop had told him that he was a good father, that he took good care of his family. James prayed it was true. His family was his life, the only thing that ultimately mattered to him. It would be that way forever.

  He locked Jane’s infinity necklace in the Bronco’s glove compartment. He’d give it to her tomorrow on Valentine’s Day. But as for the box of candy, James realized too late that he should have left it in his office until tomorrow night. He couldn’t leave the chocolates in the truck to freeze, so he picked up the box and carried it into the house.

  “Daddy!” Eliot called as he raced toward James. James quickly stuffed the Valentine’s box under his arm so that he could catch his son. “How was your day, Eliot?” James asked, putting the boy down.

  Snickers dashed to the door and barked. James opened it and let the dog out.

  “Great! Mrs. Spalding gave us watercolor paints. We made family portraits. Mommy put mine on the refrigerator. Come see!”

  “Let me hang up my coat,” James told him.

  By the time James had put his winter gear away, he heard Snickers frantically scratching the door and let him in.

  He followed Eliot, juggling the Valentine box around his back so he could surprise Jane. She was in the middle of pulling out the skillet pot pie she’d made from the oven. James inhaled the smell of the cheddar biscuits on top of the savory mix of vegetables and spices. Once Jane placed the hot skillet on top of the stove, she turned to him. “Hello there, husband.”

  “Eliot, let me say hello to your mother,” James said, disengaging himself from his son.

  “That means you want to kiss her,” Eliot pronounced.

  James stepped over to his wife and did just that. He noticed she had a hand on her lower back. “Your back hurting, honey?”

  “Never mind that. What have you got in your hands?”

  “A box of Valentine candy!” Eliot shouted. “Can I have a piece?”

  Jane’s eyes shone with laughter.

  Jame
s brought the box around and handed it to her. “I can’t get anything past the two of you. Happy Valentine’s Day one day early.”

  “How lovely, James. Is that Milla’s handiwork?”

  “Yes.”

  “That means these will be the best Valentine’s chocolates I’ve ever had,” Jane said. “Thank you. I have something for you, but you have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Daddy! Look at my picture.”

  James stood in front of the fridge with Jane behind him. Eliot’s painting featured himself, James, Jane, a small round glob that Eliot said was the baby, Snickers, and Miss Pickles. The backdrop showed the yellow house under a large orange sun.

  “I’m bigger than you,” Jane whispered in his ear.

  “That’s because you’re pregnant,” James whispered back.

  They both praised Eliot for his artwork, James even saying that the picture was good enough to be framed.

  When they’d all but declared their son to be another Rembrandt, Jane asked him to set the table.

  While she prepared plates for each of them, James switched on the small television. “Oh, boy, here he is,” James said, turning up the volume.

  “This is a special report from WSHN and Jim Topling, meteorologist.” The aggravating man came on the screen, a map of the East Coast behind him. “Neighbors, what have I been telling you? This storm is a devious gal. She’s played another trick on us.”

  “More like, you can’t predict the weather,” James said.

  “That’s right,” Topling continued, almost as if he confirmed James’s statement, “our snowpocalypse is hovering over Pennsylvania, dumping the area with over fourteen inches of snow so far. The lady can’t make up her mind when she’ll visit the Shenandoah Valley, but trust me when I say she’ll be here soon bringing blizzard-like conditions to our entire viewing area. Meanwhile, gents, it looks like you don’t have an excuse not to take your lady out for Valentine’s Day. Our area will be clear with no chance of snow again until Thursday. Stay tuned for more updates!”

  “It annoys me no end that he calls this storm a woman,” Jane said.

  James switched the television off.

  After they’d eaten, they each had a piece of chocolate from Jane’s Valentine’s box. Milla had provided a handwritten guide to what was inside the chocolates. Jane selected an orange truffle while James picked an Amaretto truffle. Eliot had the caramel. Then James and Jane cleaned up the kitchen, put Eliot to bed, and read to him until he fell asleep.

  James changed into his pajamas. Seeing Jane was not in their bedroom, he went downstairs, where he saw her putting dry food out for the dog and cat. When she straightened, her hand went to her lower back again.

  “Honey, let’s get in bed so I can rub your back for you.”

  “If I can make it up the stairs. I feel like a whale.”

  Whales made James think of dolphins. Once he and Jane were snuggled in bed, James poured some almond-scented lotion into his hand and began massaging Jane’s lower back. He thought of asking her if she wanted a push present, then decided this wasn’t the time. He told her of his trip to the jewelry store, leaving out the part where he bought her the infinity necklace and describing the dolphin ring Bennett bought Gillian.

  “That’s the type of ring I’d think Gillian would love. What made Bennett decide to finally propose?”

  James hesitated, unwilling to tell Jane the tragic story of Uncle Abe when he was trying to relax her so she could sleep. “Bennett told me that he realized he was being a coward. He shared a story from his boyhood. I’ll tell you about it another time, okay?”

  “M’kay,” Jane mumbled.

  James soon heard her even breathing and knew she’d fallen asleep. He felt himself unwind and relaxed back to his side of the bed, his head sinking into his pillow. He thought he should lean over and select a book to read from the towering “To Be Read” pile next to his nightstand, but he was so warm and comfortable he couldn’t move.

  His mind drifted back to Bennett and then to Uncle Abe and his camping trips. James could picture little Bennett running around the campfire, playing with his friends, then scared by his uncle’s ghost tales.

  Suddenly, an image of another campfire presented itself in James’s mind. A young Brandon as Joshie, looking sulky and poking a campfire. The special episode of Hearth and Home that Brandon had shot on location at the Richardsons’ summer house, Fairbridge. The episode that had been shown again at the reunion. Joy had pointed it out to him with reverence.

  His eyes snapped open.

  Moving slowly so he wouldn’t disturb Jane, James reached for his cell phone. He hated using the Internet on his phone, feeling the screen was too small. With a few passes through Google, though, James had his answer. That episode of Hearth and Home had been shot in mid-October, at the same time Kathy Richardson’s father had sent her out to Fairbridge, in the same year. Kathy Richardson and Brandon Jenson had met all those years ago, James was sure of it.

  He’d caught Brandon Jensen in a lie.

  James’s mind raced with possibilities. Had Brandon been the one Kathy had run away with to Los Angeles? It certainly made sense. Had he been the one to get her started in acting? Had they been lovers?

  James thought about calling Lucy, then hesitated. No matter how quietly he slipped out of bed, he ran the risk of waking Jane. Besides, he wanted to enlist the Fitzgerald twins’ wizard-like abilities on the Internet to see what else he could find, then put all the information to Lucy. Maybe Lucy would give it to the judge tomorrow and he’d decide not to rescind Murphy’s bail.

  With this plan in mind, James fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Valentine’s Day morning, the library had an early rush of returns and checkouts. James saw the Fitzgerald twins had everything under control, so he went into his office and opened his email program.

  First he sent Lucy a message: Putting together new info on Brandon. Could be critical to Murphy’s hearing this afternoon. Will be in touch ASAP. James.

  Then James looked at his in-box.

  From Bennett:

  James, I’m engaged! Gillian loves the dolphin ring and it fit her like I had it custom-made. She can’t take her eyes off it. I went down on one knee like I told you I would. Shaved my mustache off too, like Gillian wanted, before I proposed. Man, do I feel naked, but Gillian showed me how much she appreciated the gesture. Oh, and get this: Gillian says she has a big surprise for me. It’s my Valentine’s present. Have to wait until tonight to find out what it is, but she said to dust off my suitcase. About the murder, sorry, but neither of us has had much time to think about it. We both think Brandon and Joel are as fake as Kitty’s “diamond.” Later, Bennett.

  James felt thrilled for his friends’ engagement. He wondered how Bennett looked without his mustache and what Gillian’s big surprise was. Sounded like they’d be taking a trip. He dashed off a quick congratulatory email, then scrolled to his next message.

  From Lindy:

  Hi James, I’m writing this before class. Brandon and Joel are both actors, so if they want to keep something from you, they’ll lie like experts. One thing I wondered about. Did you or Lucy ask Mr. and Mrs. Anderson if they saw anything out of the ordinary the night Edwards was killed? I’m sure Sheriff Huckabee questioned them, but maybe they’ve remembered something since then. Worth a shot. Luis is so grateful for Bennett’s idea of a Mexican restaurant here in Quincy’s Gap. Alma loved the idea! Luis is going over to see if he can rent the space today. Gotta run. Talk to you later. Happy Valentine’s Day! Lindy.

  James wrote back and thanked Lindy for suggesting he speak with Mrs. Anderson. He also said for her to let him know the minute Luis knew something about the restaurant.

  With no other emails demanding his immediate attention, James left his office. The twins were chatting with the last of the library patrons. James stood in an attitude of waiting to speak with them.

  “What’s up, Professor?” Scott asked
when he was free.

  “I’d like you both to come over to the computer station with me. I need your help,” James said.

  Francis followed Scott and James to the computer desks. “This sounds serious, Professor.”

  James nodded. “It is. I know you two are wizards when it comes to finding information online.”

  “True,” Francis said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “I need to know everything I can about two people: Brandon Jensen and Kathy Richardson. Kathy also goes by Kitty Walters.”

  “This is for the murder investigation, right?” Francis asked.

  James nodded.

  “Cool,” Scott said.

  Francis positioned himself at one computer while Scott took the one beside him. James stood behind them where he could see the screens. Holding a notepad in his hand, he said, “I think that Brandon Jensen filmed an episode of Hearth and Home at the Red Bird, which was known as Fairbridge at the time, in the middle of October.”

  Both twins typed on their keyboards. Scott said, “Filmed October fifteenth through October twenty-first, 1990. The episode was called ‘We Don’t Speak French Here.’”

  James jotted down the confirmation of what he’d found last night. He thought for a moment of the young heartthrob and the nineteen-year-old Kathy rambling around Fairbridge together. Not for one second did James believe Kathy hadn’t shown Brandon that secret passage. He could picture them laughing as they ran up and down the stairs in a romantic game of hide-and-seek.

  “Professor?” Scott said.

  “Next,” James said, “I Googled when Kathy, or as she was known, Kitty Walters, started acting, but I didn’t mark the date.”

  Francis said, “According to Wikipedia, 1991. Kitty Walters was twenty at the time. She played a waitress on Roger That! A cop show that filmed in Los Angeles.” He turned and looked at James. “You’re trying to establish a history of these two people as what, a couple?”

  “That’s part of it,” James said as he made more notes.

  Scott said, “In that case, let’s see what we can find out about them.”