“Why would a south Florida dry cleaner care if Wabanaki, Maine gets on the map or not?” Leonard asked. “It makes no sense.”
Sheriff Little stood up. “That’s what we need to try to figure out. Lenny, I think you and your unofficial partner need to get back on the case. I’d start with this Alameda fellow.”
“Why would a social media influencer kill Patty?” Kristin asked.
“I don’t think he did,” the Sheriff said. “But he might know something if he really cashed a $150,000 check. And, if Solis wrote that check, he obviously knows more than he let on when Lenny and Skyler visited him last week.”
“Please don’t call me Lenny in front of everybody, Dad. Geez!”
* * *
At 3:30 p.m., Carissa Lamb’s Bombardier Challenger 350 touched down at the Portland International Jetport and taxied to Northeast Air, a private fixed-based operator. A crew member lowered the stairs and then loaded the singer’s bags into a waiting Suburban. Carissa climbed out of the jet, hugged the captain, and told him to come back to fetch her on Saturday morning. Seconds later, she was on the highway traveling south to Wabanaki.
She marveled at all the green trees along the way, a stark difference from all the brown and tan tones in the desert. They passed rolling farmland and cute New England Cape Cods before snaking through the small downtown area that seemed to be teaming with visitors. A few minutes later, the SUV came to a stop in front of Skyler’s cottage and Brenda met Carissa on the front porch, a dog on each side of her.
“Brenda!” the singer screeched. “I’m in Maine! I’ve never been here before.”
“Welcome to Wabanaki. How was your flight?”
“Now that my plane is back in service, it was fucking lovely. I flew commercial all spring and most of the summer. I was having the interior redone. You should come see it when I leave Saturday.”
“I’ll do that,” Brenda said, showing the driver where to leave the bags and ushering Carissa into the house. “Actually, Skyler would get a bigger kick out of it than me. She’s a private jet nut. She knows all their names and can look up into the sky and tell you exactly what kind of plane it is. I don’t know how she does it, especially when they’re up so high. But she always knows. Or pretends to, anyway. How would I know otherwise?”
“Where is this mysterious Skyler?” Carissa asked as she warmly greeted Mulder and Scully with head rubs and kisses. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s here somewhere. She’s very excited to meet you, too. I think she’d be perfect to do your public relations. You really will love her. Oh! Speak of the devil.”
Skyler descended the stairs and reached out to take one of Carissa’s hands, but the singer went in for a full bear hug which caught Skyler off guard.
“Skyler, thank you so much for having me in your home. It’s just the cutest place I’ve ever seen. And Wabanaki! I can’t wait to get out and explore every inch. Such a special place. After spending my life in Los Angeles and the west coast, oh my gosh. It’s so beautiful up here. I had no idea.”
“Well, welcome,” Skyler finally managed to say. She took everyone to the kitchen where Brenda had a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket and a display of charcuterie laid out on an oversized vintage cutting board. “I hope you’re hungry. Brenda outdid herself this afternoon.”
“I had a cold turkey sandwich and an apple on the plane,” Carissa said. “So, I’m famished. And I didn’t drink, if you can believe that. I always used to have champagne or Bloody Marys on flights but my nutritionist made me promise to just drink water on airplanes from now on. It’s very dehydrating up there and for some reason these people are concerned about my vocal cords. I’m not sure why.”
“Because a lot of people depend on those vocal cords, I’d imagine,” Brenda said. “Dig in.” She poured the ladies each a flute of champagne and proposed a toast. “To a girls’ week in Maine!”
“Hear, hear,” Carissa said. “And to a successful episode taping tomorrow. Brenda, I am so fucking excited. My agent is excited. QVC is even excited. The casino execs are excited. Anything that gets me out there in front of more people…well, they all like that very much. That sells show tickets and sweater sets!”
“Sweater sets?” Skyler asked, confused.
“The Carissa Lamb Collection at QVC, honey,” Brenda said. “The lady makes the dough selling crap to bored housewives with credit cards.”
“Oh no,” Carissa said, suddenly turning very serious. “Those women come from all backgrounds and economic levels. We have housewives in trailer parks, I’m sure, but also executives and creative types, and entrepreneurs, and even a U.S. astronaut has purchased my clothes. And it’s not crap, I’ll tell you that. I wouldn’t have made all those millions last year if I was selling crap.”
Brenda blushed. “I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to…”
“Please,” Carissa said, lightening, “how were you to know? I’ll tell you what, Brenda, you should be on television selling stuff, too. The people love you. A Brenda’s Kitchen line of cookware, maybe? Or a lobster roll kit?! Those are all the rage. You’d sell out in minutes. Make millions! I’m setting you up with my people.” Carissa turned to Skyler and put an elegantly manicured hand on her arm and she squeezed. “I have people, you know, but I do not currently have a PR team. Hint, hint.”
“I’m really flattered,” Skyler managed, “but, Miss Lamb, I’ve…”
“Carissa!! No Miss Lamb. Not in this house. That’s all I hear all the time in Vegas. Miss Lamb this and Miss Lamb that. Carissa.”
“Carissa,” Skyler said sweetly, “I’m not entirely sure I’m the right person to be doing public relations work for you. I’ve never worked with an entertainer of your caliber.”
“It’s easy,” she said, popping an olive into her mouth. “Keep me in the magazines, swat down the stories that aren’t true—and there are a lot of them—and help me fill all those seats in Las Vegas. I’m contracted to do 24 weeks a year, five shows a week, for the next three years. Good lord, what have I gotten myself into?”
“How many seats are in the theater?” Brenda asked.
“5,202.”
Brenda pulled out her iPhone and opened the calculator. “Jesus Christ, girl, that’s 1,872,720 people!”
Carissa looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Well, some people come more than once.”
“How much is a ticket?” Skyler asked. She was blown away by the numbers.
“Anywhere from $75 for the back of the second balcony to $1,500 for the meet and greet seats. I think the average is somewhere around $300.”
Brenda tapped away. “That’s $561,816,000. Wait, that can’t be right.” She did the calculations again.
“How much are they paying you, Carissa?” Skyler asked. “I know it’s tacky, but if I’m going to be working for you…”
“Ladies,” Carissa said, taking a stool and indicating to Brenda that she needed her glass filled, “I’m making $50,000,000 a year for the show and I have to pay my orchestra and dancers and all the dressers and all the backstage folks. I buy the costumes and…I produce the whole show and deliver it to the casino. They sell the tickets and work the sound and lights and stuff, but the majority of it is me and my crew. Holy crap.”
“Who put this deal together?” Brenda asked.
“My stupid people,” Carissa spit. “The Cactus is making a profit of over $411 million? I do get 90% of the proceeds from my merchandise sales though. There’s a little Carissa store next to Brenda’s restaurant. So, there’s that.”
“And the millions from QVC,” Skyler added.
“And there’s that,” Carissa said. “I’m not hurting. I still sock away enough to maintain four homes, a jet, cars I never drive, and a macadamia nut farm in Hawaii. And I give a ridiculous amount to charity every year. I feel strongly about that though. I think I’m the SPCA’s numbe
r one donor. They gave me an award last year. The gays love me, too. I’m big on the Trevor Project. They save little gays from suicide. It’s a great organization.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t like being called little gays,” Skyler said. “If you take me on, you need to be more careful about stuff like that.”
Carissa smiled. “It’s just the girls here. I’m a totally different person in public. I know how to play the game. Right, Brenda?”
“She knows how to goose people on their ass so they’ll never forget the experience, that’s for sure.”
“I apologized for that,” the singer said in a sing-song, carefree voice. “What’s for dinner?”
“Actually, since we’re cooking tomorrow for the show, we’re going out tonight. It’s nice and dark and upscale, but casual. It’s called the Old Sea Captain’s Inn. The scallops are to die for. And their cheddar biscuits are world famous. Better than Red Lobster’s.”
“Sounds perfect,” Carissa said. “Do I need my wig? I brought it.”
“Nope,” Skyler said. “We’re bringing our own muscle. And, if I’m not mistaken, he just drove up.”
They heard the front door open and close and the dogs went wild. A minute later, a smartly dressed Leonard Little entered the kitchen and stopped short. He couldn’t quite process who he was looking at.
“Leonard Little, this is Carissa Lamb,” Brenda said. “Leonard is a deputy on the Wabanaki police force and a lifelong friend of ours. Sky and I went to high school with Lenny back in the day.”
“Leonard,” Leonard corrected. He walked over to Carissa and extended his arm for a handshake. She went in for her signature hug.
“You have the most beautiful teeth I have ever seen,” she said. “It’s very nice to meet you. Leonard.”
The police officer turned to Skyler. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Carissa Lamb? I thought it was going to be some TV producer from the cooking show that we were going to dinner with. I would have been more prepared.” He turned to the star. “You’re prettier in person than on television, if that’s even possible.”
“You are too kind,” she said. “And apparently, you’re protecting me from the little people tonight. That okay?”
“I’m locked and loaded,” he said, pulling up his untucked dress shirt to reveal a handgun holstered on his hip. Brenda and Skyler exchanged eye rolls.
The four jumped into Skyler’s SUV and drove the quick two miles to the five-star restaurant. Once securely seated at a corner table away from the prying eyes of the other guests, they enjoyed a multi-course meal that included grilled yellowfin tuna and lobster spring roll appetizers, broiled sea scallops, Maine salmon, tender veal medallions, and a cast iron skillet of macaroni and cheese that nearly made Brenda cry, it was so good. The meal ended with a remarkable chocolate soufflé, so decadent and light, that they all agreed they’d died and gone to chocolate heaven. Brenda was pissed that the dessert was better than her own and she silently vowed to continue to improve on one of her classic dishes.
Afterwards, as Leonard kept a keen eye on their surroundings, the ladies sauntered down to the Inn’s dock and stood in the moonlight staring out at the bay. Leonard stayed back on land and lit a cigarette, but never took his eyes off his charge.
“He’s the hunkiest thing I’ve seen in ages,” Carissa said under her breath to Skyler. “And I’m around gorgeous, muscle boy dancers every damned day. I could just eat him with a spoon. If I wasn’t so fucking full of that amazing dinner.”
Brenda stepped in. “Keep your distance, sister. That hunky police officer and our little PR friend here are doing the nasty.”
Skyler let out a little yelp. “Brenda! For God’s sake.”
“Is it a secret?” Carissa asked.
“It’s not a secret,” Skyler said, looking over her shoulder to see if Leonard was close enough to hear the conversation. “But I don’t know what, if anything, it is quite yet. It might be nothing.”
“You could do a lot worse,” the singer said. “And I have! You’ve known him your whole life and he has great teeth and he knows how to use a gun. He checks off all the boxes.”
“He has a really big cock, too,” Brenda said.
“That’s it!” Skyler screamed, which made Leonard come running down the dock.
He had one hand on his revolver. “What’s the matter?!”
Brenda put an arm around the officer’s back. “Nothing. Just girls being girls, honey. Maybe you should drive us home now. I think we might have had too much wine with dinner.”
Carissa started staring at Leonard’s midsection until she was caught by Skyler who hit her lightly on the back. “Let’s go, Miss Lamb. You can’t be seen staring at police officers’ baskets in public. It’s not good for your image.”
“Staring at my what?” Leonard asked, but the girls were giggling and half way to the SUV before he caught up.
On the way home, a Carissa song came on the radio and the foursome sang at the top of their lungs. It was a surreal moment for Brenda, Skyler, and Leonard. And Carissa was just enjoying being a normal person for a change. Leonard, of course, butchered most of the lyrics.
The singer slept like a rock that night, and dreamt of police officers with big sticks.
TWENTY-EIGHT
On Tuesday morning, Porter knocked on his landlord’s kitchen door then let himself in. The lady of the house was sitting at the table alone working on a soft-boiled egg and a piece of dry toast.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Midge!” Lois screamed.
Porter was taken aback. “My gosh, ma’am, I can get it myself.” He was doing just that when the maid ran into the room.
“Too late,” Lois said. “He’s getting it himself. Off you go.”
Porter sat down at the table. “You’re so mean to her.”
“I am not. She likes it. We have a thing going on.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not a thing, thing,” the mayor said. “We just understand each other. She knows that I’m a bitter old widow and she’s a silly young girl who could certainly get a better job somewhere else in town, but she likes the punishment she gets here. And the ridiculous salary, now that my hands aren’t tied by Elrod’s goddamn will.”
“I see. I think.”
“I meant to come talk to you yesterday, but I got caught up with town business. Can you tell me exactly why my grandson and you were fighting in the middle of the night and why you two had to break half the stuff in that room? I haven’t seen Tanner in two days so I can’t get the story from him.”
Porter sat silent for a moment. He didn’t really have an explanation and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her the truth. “We’ve always had a rivalry. You knew that.”
“Because he stole your girlfriend?”
The sound of that, coming from the mayor’s mouth, shocked him to the core. “I don’t think that’s exactly what happened,” Porter finally managed. “She broke up with me long before they started dating. I mean, as far as I know.”
“I think what she did to you was just ghastly,” Lois said tenderly, which was rather out of character for the old woman. “In your most dire hour. On the brink of death.”
“The accident was bad, but I don’t think I was ever on the brink of death, no ma’am.”
“Please call me Lois.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Try.”
“Alright, I’ll try.”
Lois sighed. “I love Tanner because he’s my grandson, because I’m supposed to. But he’s done some things I don’t agree with. Marrying Wanda was one of them. Working for the Old Chowder House instead of going to college and really making something of himself was another, no offense to you, dear. And, now, abandoning his child and mother-in-law here in my house when they both need him more than ever, that�
�s just inexcusable. And it breaks my heart.”
Porter took a sip of coffee and thought about his next sentence carefully. Then he decided, fuck it: “You left out the part about him killing Wanda with a knife.”
The woman had thought that was true, too, but she hadn’t been able to say it out loud. “And that. If it’s true, which of course I hope and pray it is not. He isn’t capable of homicide. Is he? Killing his own wife?”
“Weren’t they in the process of getting divorced?”
“Were they?!” She seemed genuinely shocked. “There has never been a divorce in the Millhouse family. Ever.”
“That’s what he told me when he bought the Shanty from me.”
“He bought what?!”
Porter loved this, but he was acting now: “Maybe I should go. I’ve said too much.”
“You absolutely should not go,” the mayor said sternly. “Tell me more.”
He pretended to be too pained to continue. But just for a moment.
“He was tired of working for Wanda’s family and he wanted a restaurant to call his own. He knew he was never going to get any money from you—or excuse me, from your husband’s estate—so he used his own money and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. We closed last week. And then he went home and told Wanda he wanted the separation. At least, that’s what he told me he intended to do.”
“I didn’t know any of this.”
“And he’s in love with your next-door neighbor.” Porter threw that in for good measure.
Lois’ eyes widened. “Skyler Moore? And Tanner? They’ve been friends since grade school.”
“He loves her. She doesn’t feel the same way. Everyone in town knows that.”
“I live in this town and I didn’t know that. And that explains a lot.”
“Which is why it was especially hard to swallow when he married Wanda, knowing that he didn’t really love her.”
“What did you just say?” Wanda’s mother Karen was standing in the kitchen doorway holding little Charlie by the hand. Lois and Porter hadn’t heard her come in. “Are you talking about Tanner?”
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