by Roslyn Woods
The encounter was still very fresh in Shell’s memory. “He said he had poisoned his stepfather, that he’d tried to kill his stepsister but she just wouldn’t die, and that he’d hurt her today in a messy way.”
Gonzalez looked relieved. “I’m sure glad he said that! It’s a bit of evidence we may need if he doesn’t plead,” he told her. “Was that when you decided to break his jaw?”
“I didn’t decide to do that.”
“Is that when it happened?”
“Yes. I headed for the house to help Tavy, and he grabbed me from behind.”
“Those self-defense classes seem to be working out for you,” he said. “Bishop also lost a tooth, and it’s probably going to be a few days before he walks normally.”
“Did my dog do much damage?”
“She hurt him. There are puncture wounds and bruises in his upper right arm. It’s a good thing you stopped her.”
“Well, did you see what he did to Tavy? She could have been killed,” Shell answered defensively. “And he’d have done the same to me if I hadn’t been lucky enough to be in position for that elbow strike.”
“I’m not so sure. Seems like you’ve got your mojo back, Miss Hodge, and I imagine you have more than one move.”
Shell didn’t say anything for a moment. “I admit I was angry. Will you be able to charge him?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, and then some. Today’s assault is cut and dried, and we got a warrant and sent a team to his house this afternoon. They just phoned to tell me they found arsenic in his garage. Hopefully, with your testimony, we can put him away for a very, very long time.”
“Where on earth did he get the arsenic?” Shell asked.
“Apparently he used to work at the fireworks plant out in Bastrop. Detective Wilson has been doing background checks on everyone associated with Edwin Bishop, so we knew his stepson had worked out there. Anyway, from what I’ve been told by our forensics guy, arsenic is used to make certain fireworks turn blue when they fire. Bishop probably stole it before he lost the job.”
“He was planning to poison his father?”
“Who knows? He doesn’t seem the type to work at a fireworks plant. Seems very possible he’d had the idea for a long time.”
“What about Armen Hanoian? He looked so guilty—following Tavy around, showing up at the gallery multiple times! I thought it was very likely he turned on the gas in Tavy’s kitchen last week.”
“He did look guilty, but he’s pretty confused. I don’t think he’s a killer.”
“What do you mean he’s confused?”
“His wife and brother-in-law have been to see me,” the sergeant said.
“Cecelia?”
“That’s right. She and her brother are hoping he won’t be charged.”
“Who is her brother?”
“An art dealer from Dallas—name’s Harris Melburn.”
“Cecelia’s brother is Harris Melburn?” Shell asked.
“You know him?”
“I’ve heard of him and I’ve seen his name. It was on the class list from when Edwin Bishop was in art school in California.”
“That’s right. Cecelia and Armen are both glass artists, and Harris is a painter and art dealer. They’ve all known Edwin Bishop since the seventies when the two men were in art school.”
“And Cecelia?”
“She’s ten years younger than Armen. He trained her in stained glass years ago, and eventually they married.”
“And now they’ve split up?”
“Not exactly. She left him a couple of weeks ago because he won’t take his anti-psychosis medication. She says he’s been driving her crazy with his paranoid thinking and she’s been at her wits end. She didn’t want to put him in a home, but she can’t manage him on her own. She was hoping he’d listen to her brother.”
“So she left him! I wonder what kind of paranoia he was exhibiting?”
“Evidently, he imagined his brother-in-law was connected—that he was some sort of crime boss. He also thought Edwin Baird’s success was all due to him because he introduced him to someone named Hanson something-or-other many years ago.”
“His teacher!” Shell exclaimed. “But lots of people were introduced to Hanson Puthuff!”
“Yes, but Hanoian has been going in and out of delusional thinking for the past few years. Lately, he’s gotten much worse. His wife said she realized how crazy he was getting last May when Edwin Bishop had pancreatic surgery. Apparently she and Armen took care of him up at that house by the lake for a couple of weeks. Cecelia says that Armen started thinking everything of Edwin’s was really his. And, from everything Cecelia has told me, Edwin was the kindest, most generous person she’s ever known.”
“All Armen wanted was paintings?”
“That’s right. And he thought they should be his because he was having lapses of sanity. Do you think Tavy Bishop will press charges?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt it. He didn’t hurt anyone as far as we know. Right?”
“That’s right.”
“What about Colleen—Edwin’s ex-wife?”
“I’ve interviewed her, too. But that was before today. She says she can’t imagine who might have wanted to hurt Edwin Bishop.”
“And yet, I think she followed us once. Me and Tavy.”
“When and where was this?”
“One day we had lunch at La Condessa, downtown. Let’s see—it was Monday. Anyway, Colleen was disguised, but I think it was her.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. I wonder how much she stands to gain if her son inherits Edwin’s estate? Tavy told me she might get a lot if her son inherits, and he would, wouldn’t he, if Edwin’s daughter were no longer with the living?”
“It makes all kinds of sense. So why would she follow you?”
“To make sure where Tavy was so she could notify Vincent if Tavy was returning to the house? Maybe he was trying to find a way to hurt her again. What he wouldn’t have expected is that she had a very good watchdog at the house by then! He’s afraid of dogs! I imagine Blue stopped him that day.”
“Do you think he might have taken things from the house as well as trying to do away with Octavia Bishop?”
“It’s possible. Tavy told me he had to have been there a lot. He knew where everything was! She also said that Florencia told her Colleen was very interested in Edwin’s pottery collection. He was also taking stuff from the lake house. I guess you’ll find out when you go through his house.”
“How would I know what he took?”
“Rand Miller will likely know,” Shell said. “Florencia would, too.”
“I’ll call them,” said Gonzalez.
Just then, Gus entered the little waiting room.
“The nurse told me I might find you here,” he said.
“I was just going to come up,” Shell answered.
“No need. She’s sleeping pretty soundly right now.”
“I mostly wanted to let you know I’ve gotta go get Dean at the airport, but I can come back later. I don’t want Tavy to be alone.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m staying. You don’t need to come back tonight.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Tell Dean hi for me. You okay with keeping Blue till tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks,” he said, then turning to the Gonzalez he asked, “So, I have to ask, Sergeant, is everything figured out? Was Vincent the one who tried to kill Tavy last Saturday?”
“Yes,” Gonzalez answered. “He admitted as much to Miss Hodge. We were just going over what we’ve learned, and I guess I’ve got time to go over it for you, too.”
Chapter 66
Sunday, August 16, 2 p.m.—Tavy
“I’m kind of anxious to get home,” Tavy said as Gus drove her out of the parking lot the next day. “I’m afraid Mia will have been calling me. My phone’s lost its charge.”
“I could have seen to that
last night, I guess,” Gus said. “I thought about checking your contacts and calling her, but I was afraid it would really freak her out to hear from your neighbor that you were in the hospital.”
“She knows we’re friends, but you’re right, it would have. It’s okay. I’ll call her as soon as I get home. I usually call her in the morning, so I’m only a few hours late.”
“I also thought you might want to call your boyfriend,” he said quietly.
“No. It’s okay. How’s Blue?”
“Fine. Shell and Dean were happy to take care of her for us.”
Us. He sounded as if he thought of Blue as their mutual pet, but she didn’t comment.
“Did Dean have a good trip?” she asked.
“I hardly know. Other than being concerned about you, they seemed happy, so I imagine so.”
“I’ll have to talk to Shell later.”
“You’ve become good friends.”
“Yes. I really like her.”
They rode in silence for a few miles, Tavy thinking about what had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Her thoughts kept coming back to the fact that Rhoda had said she and Gus were reuniting. It was a horrible idea. What was he thinking? If he loved Rhoda, why had that almost kiss happened on Friday morning? Why had he spent last night holding her hand? Or had she dreamed that?
They arrived at the house at two-fifteen, and Gus came around the car to help Tavy get out.
“I’m okay,” she said, not wanting to appear needy.
“I know, but the doctor said you might be dizzy for a couple of days and I’m to take care of you.”
“My God! Did he think we’re married?”
“No. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m your boyfriend, though. I know I’m too old, but he didn’t seem to think it was weird, and I didn’t correct him because I thought they might not let me stay with you.”
“You’re not even close to too old!” she heard herself arguing as he ushered her up the front steps with a protective arm around her waist.
Why did I say that?
She found her keys and handed them to Gus since he was closer to the lock and she was having a moment of wooziness. He opened the door and helped her inside.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Yes. All I’ve had since yesterday was a little applesauce! But I’ve gotta call Mia, and I’ve gotta take a shower before I die of grunge.”
“I’ll fix us something to eat while you call. But don’t shut the door all the way. I need to be able to hear if you need anything or get dizzy.”
“Okay.”
“And sit down while you call Mia so I can go get Blue. She’s over at my house.”
“Okay, boss.”
She knew why she wasn’t arguing with him about staying with her and fixing a meal. She wanted him there. She wanted every minute she could get before he belonged to someone else.
“Hey. You feel better?” he asked, standing at the stove as Tavy and Blue made their way into the kitchen.
“Yes. It’s nice to be clean,” she said.
Her hair was still a little wet, and she had donned jeans and a comfortable knit top with sleeves—something to cover the bruises on her arm. Only her forehead above her right brow looked different. Her four stitches were neatly hidden with a large bandaid.
“I made breakfast for our very late lunch. How’s that sound?”
“Fabulous. I thought you could only cook steak,” she teased.
“I’m actually a man of hidden talents,” he said.
She smiled, wanting to thank him for staying, for being her friend—her dearest friend. But she couldn’t tell him how important he was. She must only treasure these last moments together to remember later.
“Let’s eat in the living room,” she said.
“Okay. What will we drink with a meal of bacon and eggs?”
It was three-thirty in the afternoon.
“I have some Prosecco,” she suggested. “And there’s orange juice.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Gus said. “Let’s have the Prosecco.”
“Okay.”
He found the wine in the fridge while Tavy found glasses. “I’ll bring everything to you,” he said. “You sit down.”
Blue abruptly sat at his feet, and Tavy laughed.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. I’m taking care of you. Doctor’s orders.”
She might as well savor this. It would only last a short while and then it would be over. Then she would have to face the fact that he belonged to Rhoda.
In a little while they were sitting on the sofa together, toasting her recovery and enjoying their food as if it were elegant cuisine.
“This is really good,” Tavy said.
“Remind me to only cook for you when you’re starving.”
“I will.” For now, she would pretend this was the beginning and not the end. She would not allow herself to feel sad.
“I can fix more if this isn’t enough.”
“I think I’ll be fine if you’ll finish this bottle with me.”
“We’re depraved,” he said, refilling their glasses.
“Yes, but we’re celebrating.”
“Yes. It feels good to know who did it.”
“It does,” she answered quietly, accepting the glass. “He said he hated me.”
“He’s probably been jealous of you all his life.”
Tavy sighed. “I think he’s been in this house a lot.”
“Why’s that?”
“He knew where everything was in the kitchen on that day he came by—just walked right in and found a teapot and started making tea! Doesn’t that seem familiar?”
“He came to see your father every once in a while to ask for money. He probably made it his business to know what was here that had any value.”
“Do you think my father gave him a key?”
“I doubt it. I imagine he stole it, or had it copied or something. He had access to that kitchen drawer where your dad kept the keys whenever he came over. Plus, his mother was here quite a bit. She could have gotten it for him.”
“You think he went through the cupboards, too?”
“Probably. I don’t think your dad spent time with him socially. They weren’t very friendly. So, if he knew the house well, it means he spent time here when your father wasn’t home.”
“I imagine Colleen coveted all these gorgeous vases,” she said, looking briefly at the hutch. “Florencia told me she was really into them, and Shell says they’re quite valuable.”
“I imagine they are. I think Ed wanted to have nice things for you.”
“I just think they’re beautiful. I don’t care what they’re worth.”
“I know. We’re alike that way, aren’t we, Tavy?”
“Yes.” I’m so much more like you than Rhoda.
They sat companionably drinking the wine for a while, the conversation moving to more trivial things—the classes Gus would be teaching tomorrow, the garden, Maddie’s electives.
“Oh my,” Tavy said. “This wine is actually more potent than I knew! Do you think that’s because of my concussion?”
“No. It’s giving me a buzz, too.”
“You didn’t get any rest last night. It’ll make you sleepy.”
“I’m not sleepy now.”
“Me neither.”
His eyes traveled to her mouth, and he turned suddenly and picked up the empty plates and carried them to the kitchen. When he came back Tavy was standing.
“I think I should probably lie down now,” she said.
“You look wobbly.”
She was wobbly. The Prosecco had completely gone to her head, and she was afraid she might say something she shouldn’t.
She headed for the hallway, bumping into the end table as she passed, realizing, a little too late, that she was in no condition to walk on her own with a bump on her head and three glasses of Prosecco in her system.
She might have fallen if Gus hadn�
�t been there, catching her as she stumbled and pulling her into his arms. “Whoa, whoa!” he said.
“I should lie down,” she said again, but her face was pressed into his shoulder, and his fragrance was making her dizzier yet.
“Tavy,” he said into her hair, “We had a moment, didn’t we?”
She looked up at him. “A moment?”
“Yes,” he answered, “under the grape trellis.”
She just looked at him as seconds passed, not knowing what to say, and he bent his head and kissed her. She couldn’t make herself pull away in spite of what she knew. One kiss turned to two, and then Gus was saying something. What was it? “You know I’ve fallen in love with, don’t you, Tavy?”
“We can’t do this,” she whispered. “It’s wrong, Gus.”
“It’s not wrong! It’s the first right thing in a long, long time.”
“But—”
“Tell me you don’t love him, Tavy!”
“I don’t love him?” she asked, pulling away so she could see his face. What on earth was he talking about?
“You shouldn’t go back to him!” he continued. “I don’t think I can bear it if—”
“What makes you think I’m going back to anyone?”
“Rhoda told me you said you were going back to your boyfriend.”
“When was this?”
“She called on Friday night and told me she’d seen y—”
“How can you say this to me when you’re going back to her?” she interrupted. “Which, I might add, is a terrible idea! Rhoda makes Maddie miserable and being a ‘family’ with her won’t make Maddie happy! She told me you and Florencia and my dad were the only adults who cared about her!”
“No, Tavy! Rhoda’s been telling you lies! I wouldn’t go back to her in a million years.”
Tavy stared at him, completely confused. “You’re not—getting back together?”
“Hell no.”
“You’re sure?”
“Why would I do something so insane? Besides, I’m in love with you.”
Tears filled Tavy’s eyes. “She said you were going to be a family again for Maddie and we were going to be neighbors, so I told her I was going back,” she added, “back to Portland.”