“Let’s go through this again,” the Sheriff said. “You two were in the process of getting separated, you said? You told her you were leaving her recently?”
“That’s right.”
“And you told her that you were leaving the Chowder House and had bought Porter Maddox’s Lobster Shanty.”
“All this is true,” Tanner said, breathlessly, “but I didn’t kill my wife. Why would I do that?”
“In a rage? Maybe you were unable to deal with her threatening to keep the child from you if you left?”
“Where are you getting this stuff from, Sheriff? No! Never. I would never, ever do such a thing. I didn’t hate my wife, I just didn’t want to be married to her anymore. She’s the mother of my child. And I loved her.”
“You pulled the knife out of her chest.”
“Yes,” Tanner said. He almost threw up. “I felt like I had to. It was just…in there.”
“She was dead when you arrived.”
“Very.”
Maynard Little was quite out of his element. He’d never worked so hard in his life and certainly never had so many dead bodies stacked up. Or any murdered bodies at all. He was seriously considering an early retirement before the job put him in the grave. He tried to pull himself together because he wanted to, at the very least, give the impression that he knew what the fuck he was doing.
“First my daughter-in-law turns up dead at your restaurant and then your wife dies in her master bedroom closet. Your finger prints are all over the Chowder House knife found in Gerald Gains’ front door. Do you see the pattern here?”
Tanner said nothing.
“Son,” the Sheriff said, “it’s not looking good for you. And you really are like a son to me. I’ve known you since you were just a kid. This is all very hard for me to believe.”
“It’s hard to believe because it’s not true, Sheriff. I didn’t kill anyone. Ever. And I didn’t stick a knife in Gerald’s front door. I have never actually stepped foot on that man’s property.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Then believe me!” Tanner yelled. “I’m innocent. I’m being set up.”
“By who? Who’d want to fuck with you like this?”
“I can’t imagine. I just bought the Lobster Shanty from Porter. I have a lot to do. I have a kid to raise. I don’t have enemies.”
“I have no idea what to do, Tanner,” the Sheriff said. “What I want you to do is to stay in Wabanaki for the time being. Don’t leave the town limits, do you understand me?”
“I do, yes sir. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. We’ll figure this out, one way or another.”
Tanner turned and looked out the window. His mother-in-law was pulling into the driveway. “Motherfucker.”
“Your mother-in-law?”
“Yeah. I’m scared of her.”
“Go face the music, son.”
“This is the worst day of my life,” Tanner said as he climbed out of the truck.
* * *
Brenda was dropped off at the front door of the Chowder House just as Skyler and Leonard pulled into the side lot. She threw her bags into Leonard’s car and the three of them walked into the packed restaurant. Shea took them past a large group of people waiting to be sat, to a small table in the bar area with a ‘reserved’ sign on it.
“I called ahead,” Skyler said.
“The social media campaigns seem to be doing the trick,” Leonard said, “I don’t recognize a soul in here.”
Skyler tried to read the list of dinner specials but was having trouble concentrating. “I’m just sick over Tanner.”
“Fill me in,” Brenda demanded.
“We stopped by the police station to talk to him but he wasn’t there. He’s with the sheriff at Tanner’s house, apparently. He found her dead in his master bedroom closet.”
“Who found who dead?!”
“Tanner found his wife dead and he removed the knife that was sticking out of her chest and apparently tried to revive her but she’d been dead for some time. And—the kicker—it was a Chowder House knife.”
“My father told me all about it on the way over here. There’s a forensics crew coming again from Portland. I’m supposed to go over there to relieve my dad after dinner. He’s got two other deputies with him now.”
“This is just great. Wabanaki is not only seeing a huge uptick in tourists because of Augie’s efforts and the Boston Globe article, but now we’re the murder capital of Maine?” Brenda asked. “I’m finding it very difficult to believe that Tanner had anything to do with this, though. It’s just completely unfathomable. We’ve known him our entire lives. He couldn’t kill his wife. Or a llama.”
“Alpaca, but he obviously didn’t do any of this,” Skyler said. “There’s just no way. I’d be over there right now, but he texted and asked me to give them some space. He’s dealing with her family, and the police, and the forensics team now, I guess. I really wish I could be there for him.”
The group ordered drinks and appetizers and then Brenda said, “So let me get this straight. Your father believes that Tanner could be responsible for Patty’s murder, the alpaca murder, and now his wife’s? Is that what’s happening?”
Leonard just shook his head.
“Besides the restaurant knives and his finger prints on said knives, there’s no proof or motive for any of it. He must have been set up.” Skyler drank half her martini in one gulp. “But let’s change the subject for a moment, can we? How was Las Vegas, Bren?”
Brenda’s face brightened. “I made a new friend. Do you guys know who Carissa Lamb is?”
“Do we live under a rock?” Skyler asked. “Of course.”
“She’s doing a three-year residency at the Golden Cactus where my new restaurant is. They built a whole theater just for her show. It’s spectacular. The theater and the show. Anyway, as it turns out, she’s a fan of mine and we met on the plane, and I went to the show last night, and she is looking for a new PR team.” Brenda was nearly out of breath.
Skyler cocked her head. “You’re excited about that because you thought of me?”
“Well, yeah! Why not?”
“Because I’ve never done public relations for a superstar singer before. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I mostly do products and organizations and stuff.”
“Carissa has products. She has both a skin care line and a clothing something-or-other. She’s a mainstay on QVC, for goodness sake. She told me that she made over $50,000,000 last year alone. Just on shit she sells on television. That doesn’t even include the residency and the music albums and the movies she’s done. The woman is a virtual cash printing machine and she has no man and no kids. She’s on the Forbes list and she’s pretty high up, too. She’s approaching Oprah-level, for God’s sake. And if you don’t think you can represent all that, fake it until you make it, Skyler!”
“I had no idea she had that kind of money,” Leonard said. “She’s just a pop singer, right?”
“Just a pop singer,” Brenda said casually. “Just the world’s most famous, richest pop singer who just so happened to grab my ass and then pretend she didn’t mean to do it.”
“What?!” Skyler exploded. “Does she like girls?”
“I don’t fucking know, but she grabbed it something good when we were taking a picture with two gay guys from Mesa.”
“I’m so lost,” Leonard said. “You were in Mesa with gay guys?”
“So, now she’s your best friend and I’m out of the picture, right?” Skyler asked, ignoring Leonard.
Brenda laughed. “I like her, but you’ll always be my number one, Sky. And I promise, if I ever do decide to go gay, I’ll be picking you, not Ms. Lamb.”
“Well, thanks for that.” Skyler dug into a plate of lobster nachos. “I guess I could take a meeting and see where it go
es. But we have to get Tanner off the hook first. I’m not leaving Wabanaki when it’s such a shit show around here.”
“You’re not the mayor,” Leonard said. “And you’re not responsible for fixing everything.”
“I feel responsible. I agreed to help Tanner with the restaurant’s reputation after the Patty thing. I must help where I can. It’s my job; it’s what I do. And speaking of the Mayor, I wonder if Lois knows what’s going on.”
* * *
The Mayor parked her new silver Bentley Continental GT coupe—a birthday present to herself, that she begrudgingly had to ask the trust manager for—on the street behind Sheriff Little’s pickup truck and started walking up the driveway. She stopped and watched as Tanner’s inconsolable mother-in-law sat on the pavement, weeping into Sheriff Little’s shoulder. Lois’ grandson was propped up against his own car, a stunned, blank look plastered on his pale face. Tanner’s son sat quietly in the backseat of another vehicle playing with a GameBoy and wearing earbuds, oblivious to the drama unfolding in front of the house.
Lois turned and saw a large state police box truck pull into the driveway. The forensics team of five individuals began unloading gear and then waited for instructions. Deputy Kristin approached them to explain what was known about the crime scene.
Lois went to Tanner and put an arm across his shoulders. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m okay,” he said under his breath. “I’m a suspect.”
“No, you are not.” She waited dutifully until the Sheriff could pry himself away from Tanner’s mother-in-law and convince her that she needed to pull it together for her grandson’s sake. He then approached his boss.
“Good evening, Mayor Millhouse,” he said as he straightened his uniform shirt.
“Not quite,” she said flatly. “I’m taking Tanner, his mother-in-law, and my great grandchild and we’re going to my house. And I want an update as soon as you know something.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She directed Tanner’s mother-in-law to follow in her car and she grabbed her grandson by the arm. “Come ride with me. You won’t believe the smell inside my new car. It’s to die for.”
Tanner bristled.
“Poor choice of words,” Lois said. “I’m sorry.”
TWENTY-FOUR
To say that blueberries were a running theme throughout Lois Millhouse’s grey clapboard manor house would be an understatement. By design, there wasn’t a single, solitary one in the newly renovated garage apartment where Porter lived, and the widow had made it her new mission to rid the rest of the property of the horrid little berries (that, ironically, had made her so filthy rich) that her husband had insisted decorate every last surface.
She had a long-planned appointment that Saturday morning with a top design house from New York City, and because they already made the trek to Wabanaki, Lois didn’t have the heart to call them off despite the tragedy of the day before. The team arrived at 10 o’clock and were seated around the grand dining room table enjoying coffee and—incongruously—freshly baked blueberry muffins, when Lois made her grand entrance. She was thrilled at how the presentation proceeded and was even more pleased to learn that the entire make-over would take place while she was decamped to the Ritz-Carlton in Naples, Florida for two months during the height of the ungodly bitter cold Maine winter.
Just as the team was laying out proposals for the master bedroom suite, Tanner’s mother-in-law stumbled into the dining room.
“Karen, dear,” Lois said as sweetly as she could muster, “we’re in a meeting right now.”
The woman was plastered. She’d been up all night drinking and she looked a fright in a long summer nightgown that Lois had lent to her. She fell against the sideboard, toppling two coffee cups onto the wood floor. As they shattered, the assembled let out a gasp. Lois jumped up and helped Karen to her feet.
“I suggest you go take a nap, dear,” she said as she pushed the woman out of the room. “I am so sorry about that, folks. She’s recently lost her daughter. Where were we?”
Tanner heard the commotion from the kitchen and rushed to help his mother-in-law back to her room. When he lay her down on the bed, Karen looked up into his face.
“You didn’t do it, did you?”
“I most certainly did not,” he said sternly. “I loved her.”
“Why would someone do this? To my sweet baby?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Get some rest and lay off the booze, please. We have to show a united front and there’s going to be a lot to do.”
He left the room and closed the door. He exhaled deeply and wondered what he was going to do next. He had a son to raise and two restaurants to manage…and he couldn’t even manage himself.
* * *
Next door, Skyler poured a third cup of coffee and joined Brenda on the screened porch. Through the trees to the left she could see a few open windows on the upper floors of Lois’ house and wondered which room Tanner might be occupying.
“Is he responding?” Brenda asked.
“No. I’ve sent eight texts between last night and this morning. I’d march myself over there, but I guess he needs some space.” Skyler looked at her phone for the thousandth time and placed it down on the coffee table. “I’m not good at it, but I guess I just have to wait.”
“What else can you do?”
“Figure out who is killing all the wives of my best friends in Wabanaki, for one,” Skyler said. “The police don’t seem to be making much headway. They’re all way above their heads, Brenda. When have they ever had to deal with madness like this?”
“Speaking of that, how did Leonard fare in Miami? I suspect he doesn’t have a lot of experience with investigations in the field.”
Skyler took a sip of coffee. “Or anywhere. But he was amazing. He stepped up and conducted himself very professionally. He’s grown a hell of a lot in the last week. And for someone who’s spent his entire adult life directing traffic and pulling over speeding teenagers, he did a great job. I think a lot of that came from watching crime dramas on television, to be honest.”
“This Solis fellow, was he credible?”
“In what way?”
“Do you think he had anything to do with Patty’s murder?”
Skyler shook her head slowly. “I just don’t know. He most certainly didn’t do it himself since he has a pretty water tight alibi. And if he did have her killed, he’s one mighty smooth character. Or a great actor. He seemed genuinely shocked to learn that she was dead. I’m fairly good at reading people. I’ve had men lying to me my entire life and I can always sniff them out.”
“You say that, but you had Rufus pegged all wrong,” Brenda said with a smirk.
“Well, he’s an English asshole. They’re harder to figure out.”
“They’re all assholes.”
“I’m not so sure,” Skyler said. “I’m kind of smitten with Lenny.” She leaned closer to her best friend. “I have never been fucked like that in my life. I swear to God I have never seen a more perfect cock.”
Brenda’s eyes widened. “And I have never heard you talk this way!”
“I’ve never felt this way! Brenda, he’s so amazing with that body. And mine.”
“I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”
“Oh, please,” Skyler said, leaning back again, “you can take it.”
“Actually, I don’t think I could.”
“Ewww!” Skyler screamed. “I need to go take a shower.”
“A cold one.”
“Maybe. But I will tell you this, I was feeling a little guilty about sleeping with him so soon after his wife died, but I honestly don’t think they had much of a relationship toward the end. He’s not at all broken up about her. Is that creepy?”
“Let’s not forget how many times he’s jumped from woman to woman and wife to wife, Skyler. The boy i
s, and always has been, the local playboy.”
“Perhaps,” Skyler said. She stood up, finished the rest of her coffee, and headed off to her room. “It’s not like I’m going to marry him.”
Brenda was left with the two sleeping dogs and a pleasant ocean breeze. She looked out at the bay and watched the lobster boats maneuvering in the harbor. She decided that it was a perfect day for lobster rolls, although she wasn’t sure who she’d be feeding. It then occurred to her that she had a television crew arriving in three days to film a segment with Tanner…the murder suspect.
* * *
Porter watched all the hubbub at the main house from his tiny porch at the top of the exterior stairs. It wasn’t big enough for more than the single chair and tiny table that Lois had provided. He sat with his own mug of coffee, alternating between watching Brenda on the screened porch next door and Tanner getting dressed in a third-floor guest room in the main house. He wondered if Tanner knew that he was being watched. Porter didn’t really care. He saw Tanner pick up his phone and tap a few buttons.
When his own phone started ringing, he jumped. “Hello?”
“I see you down there,” Tanner said. “I need a favor.”
Porter glanced up at a shirtless Tanner standing in the window looking down at him. “What can I do?”
“I’m going to be tied up for a while and I need you to continue to run the Shanty until I’m on my feet. I know it’s officially mine now, but I could really use your help right now.”
“Geez, I guess I can do that. What’s going on?”
He watched as Tanner walked away from the window.
“My wife was murdered yesterday.”
“What! No. What are you talking about?” He’d heard, of course; he wasn’t sure why he feigned ignorance.
“Yeah, man,” Tanner said, his voice quivering. “It’s true. And I have a lot to deal with.”
The Maine Nemesis Page 18