Raka caught my eye and waved. I waved back.
Byron’s, which was not named after the Romantic poet but after the owner’s favorite dog, had pictures of the owners and Byron shaking hands with local celebrities, including my parents, on the walls. Since Halloween was only days away, the walls and their adornments were covered with a thin layer of cotton spider web, and tiny plastic black spiders marched up and down its length. Softball tournament trophies stood in the windows, and bumper stickers decorated worn table tops.
I sat at a table in the front window, so I could watch Mains approach. I didn’t have to wait long. He expertly parallel parked his sedan on the curb into a spot between a Smart Car and a VW bug, a space that I would never even dream of attempting to park in. His floppy dark hair fell over his face as he reached across the car to get something from the passenger seat. I tried to look away. I didn’t want him to see me studying him, but I couldn’t resist. This wasn’t the time to try to sort out my conflicted feelings about Mains. I’d thought after the incident with my brother that maybe Mains and I would be, at the very least, friends. However, after everything was through and Mark drove off into the sunset, I didn’t see Mains again until we met over Tess’s body. Why then did I agree to have lunch with him? I groaned. The student studying at the next table looked up owl-eyed from his laptop.
Some twenty-first-century woman I was. I could use a telephone just as well as Mains, but I figured it was his move. He knew where to find me. After last summer, he knew more about my family and my life than some of my closest friends, and he chose not to call. I wondered if the Hayes package, because we do come as one quirky set, was too much for him. In the end, it wasn’t because I was a girl. It was because I was a wimp that I hadn’t called him. So what was I doing here? I wasn’t sure what to make of it, if there was anything to make of it. Or maybe I should for once just see how it would turn out on its own without worrying about the outcome.
Mains came inside and sat across from me. We chatted as we both perused the menu. I settled on the wild mushroom bisque, and Mains chose a veggie burger.
“Separate checks, please,” I told the waitress. She nodded and took our orders back to the kitchen.
Mains grinned but didn’t say anything.
I started with the only topic I felt safe to speak with Mains about: Murder. “What did Celeste say after the arrest?”
Mains sighed. “That she found Jerry lying there. The spike, which it turns out is part of a gate Jerry was making, was on the ground beside him. She picked up the spike and fainted.”
“Who would be stupid enough to pick up the murder weapon? Doesn’t she have a television?”
“You’d be surprised, but we are pretty sure it’s a story. She definitely still had feelings for Jerry. We found her journal in her station in the co-op. She wrote some pretty heated words in there about Tess.”
“She might have just been venting.”
“Is ‘I wish she were dead,’ venting?” He arched an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, you’ve never seen a teenage girl’s journal. You would be scandalized with the number of threats found there.”
“Celeste wasn’t a teenager.”
Point taken. “I can see her going after Tess, but Jerry? Wouldn’t that defeat her agenda?”
The waitress brought our food and left.
Mains took a bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe his rejection at the festival that afternoon was too much and she snapped. Who knows? People kill their lovers all the time.”
Remembering the scene at the festival, I conceded. “She was upset.” The soup was near scalding, and I blew on the spoon. “What about Victor’s money? Did you look at the case from that angle?”
“Of course I did. It turned out to be pure coincidence,” he said.
“Did you know Jerry was stealing from Victor’s house?”
“Not until I read your statement.” He eyed me.
I swallowed hard. “Well, was it true?”
Mains nodded. “Jerry had several business loans called due because of the recession. He was selling antiques from Victor’s estate to settle his debt. We found some things he hadn’t been able to fence before he died in his forge. We do think that is unrelated to the murders.”
“That’s an awfully convenient coincidence. I would think a desperate need for money would be a much more powerful motive than a broken engagement that was decades old.”
Mains shrugged. The gesture was beginning to annoy me.
“Do you think it’s fair that you seem to know everything about me, my family, my job, my landlady, and I know very little about you?” I blurted out, much to my own horror.
“Do you see that as a problem?”
“Not a problem, but a disadvantage.”
Mains grinned. “What do you want to know?”
That was a scary question, and I didn’t know how to answer it.
The waitress came and set our bills on the table. Before I could reach for my check, Mains palmed it. He grinned at my look of dismay. “You go. I’ve got these.”
Rather than argue, I left.
When I got back to the library, Derek was shelving reference books. Bobby was behind the reference desk. “Your super fan has been waiting with bated breath for your return.”
I slid into my seat. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
Bobby tapped his pencil’s eraser to the tip of my nose. “He’s telling everyone you solved his mother’s murder. You’re quite a campus celebrity.”
I groaned.
When Bobby left, Derek came over to the desk. “I can’t thank you enough for everything.”
“Derek, that’s not necessary.”
“It is.” His eyes gleamed.
I decided my best option was to change the subject. “Are you taking any time off from school? I’m sure your professors would understand, considering the circumstances.”
“No, I’d much rather be here.”
“I’m worried about you, Derek. Are you taking time to grieve?”
“You’re worried about me?” He asked as if it was the best news he’d ever heard.
Well, that backfired, I thought.
Lasha called Derek to the checkout desk. I watched them as she spoke to him before sending him off with a full book cart. Who was I to say Derek wasn’t grieving? Just because he wasn’t curled up in a ball crying his eyes out didn’t mean the pain was any less for him. And how did I know I wouldn’t react that way when faced with the same amount of loss? It was wrong for anyone to judge another’s grief. It was wrong for me to judge Derek’s, and maybe he was crying his eyes out at night, and the rest was all a façade.
Chapter Thirty-Three
To give myself peace of mind, I needed to talk to the other two beaders, Beth and Jendy. After that, I promised myself I would stay away from the case. Mains was the cop. He knew what he was doing, after all. Or so I hoped.
Jendy and Beth were not members of the co-op, so I wouldn’t be able to find them that way. Luckily, I remembered the large packet of vendor information that Carmen had given me at the start of the festival. Inside there was a listing of the crafters participating, including their phone numbers. The packet was upstairs in my office. I ran up to the third floor to retrieve it.
Bobby was in the office, working on a lesson plan. “Well, hello there, Sherlock. Erin told me all the details about your run-in with the campus newspaper. All in all, this whole thing has the makings of an excellent story.” He tapped his chin with his pen.
Like I was a painter outside of the library, Bobby was a budding romance writer. He’d recently signed his first book contract and now walked around the library with his chest puffed out like a proud hunter who’d felled a lion. I was proud of Bobby, too, and of myself, since I was always his first reader and grammar corrector. Bobby’s grammar is atrocious.
I winced as he brought up Erin. This was the perfect time to talk to him about her. I didn’t look forwar
d to it. I closed our office door.
Bobby laughed. “You don’t have to tell me everything now. Wait until your shift at the reference desk is over.”
“This isn’t about that, and the reference desk can wait.”
Bobby closed his laptop and folded his hands on top of it.
“It’s about Erin.”
Bobby made a face and reopened his computer.
“You need to stop socializing with her outside of the library. People are beginning to talk.”
“People? Which people?” he snorted.
“That student reporter Erin told you about made a snide comment to Erin about it today.” I paused. “She even threatened to write about it in the paper. You could lose your job, and worse, you would have a hard time finding another job at any college with that type of reputation.”
“We are just hanging out.”
I clenched my jaw. “That’s not how Erin sees it. I’ve seen how she looks at you.”
He snapped his laptop closed. “Is it similar to the way Derek looks at you?”
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. “That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is, I’m not encouraging him. Bobby, Erin is head over heels for you, and you’re making it worse.”
“So agreeing to solve his mother’s murder isn’t encouraging him. It sure looks like it to me, but what do I know?”
I sighed. “Promise me you will be careful.”
He opened his computer again. “Sure. Now I think you’d better get back to the desk.”
Behind the reference desk again, I had a sick feeling in my stomach while I consulted the crafter list. I hated fighting with Bobby, but it seemed like we argued more often these days, ever since his last romance had ended in disaster, a disaster I’d played a large role in.
I was in luck; Beth was the owner of a gift shop downtown.
At four, I left the library and went directly to the Pumpkin Hutch. The store was on a side street but in view of the square. It sold antiques and collectibles. I had been inside once before, many years ago. The front door said the shop closed at four. The door was unlocked, and I stepped inside.
A jack-o’-lantern-shaped bell rang when I entered the store. All the displays were built around the upcoming holidays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. The store was empty, and I stopped and inspected a basket of hand-knit pumpkins, imagining what Templeton would do to them if he got his paws on those bright orange balls of yarn. Near the register, there was a large permanent display of the three beaders’ jewelry. I noticed some of Celeste’s designs among them. Loose beads and clasps were also for sale if shoppers preferred to create their own pieces.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” a voice rose in anger. It sounded like Beth, and she was in the back of the store. Behind the cash register was a doorway.
“We have to talk about this. We have to help her.” The second voice was Jendy’s, I was certain.
“I’m doing what I can.”
“It’s not enough.”
“It has to be.” There was a pause. “Did you lock the shop up?”
I hurried back to the front door and opened it as if I had just come in, pulling it hard so that the pumpkin bell rang loudly.
Jendy stepped into the room. “I’m sorry, we closed at four.” She blinked when she saw me. “What are you doing here?”
Beth appeared behind her.
I thought quickly. “I wondered how Celeste is doing. I know a good lawyer she might want to talk to. His name is Lewis Clive. He’s been a huge help to my family for years. There might be a conflict because he works for the Lepcheck estate, but he’s a good lawyer and could refer Celeste to someone.”
“Celeste already has a lawyer, but thank you for your concern. Like Jendy said, the store is closed. If you’d like to come back tomorrow to buy something, we will be open at nine.” Beth opened the cash register’s drawer and started counting dollar bills.
“How is Celeste doing?” I asked, ignoring the dismissal.
“Fine. She’s fine. It’s all a misunderstanding. She’ll be home very soon.”
Jendy rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Believe me, I know how tough this can be. I’m happy to help you any way I can.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “I think you have done enough damage. Celeste doesn’t need your help and neither do we.”
Fine, I thought. I offered help. I came and appeased my conscience. Mains can take it from here.
I could have been wrong, but I thought Jendy looked reluctant to see me go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next day, I decided to pay my favorite lawyer a visit during my lunch break. Lew was no longer taking my phone calls.
When I got to Lew’s office, his secretary was at the front desk. She was about forty, wore glasses, and had her red hair pulled back in a severe chignon. She was also new. Lew had trouble keeping secretaries. He blamed it on the cigarette smoke, which permeated his office, but I think his barking of orders was the more likely reason. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Lew. Is he available?”
“Name?”
I gave her my name, and she picked up her phone. “Mr. Clive, there is an India Hayes here to see you.”
I heard Lew through the receiver. “Tell her I’m out.” His tone was gruff.
The secretary reddened. “He’s unavailable at the moment. Can I make an appointment for you?”
“Is he with a client?”
“Umm . . . no.”
I appreciated her honesty.
“I’ll go on back then. It will only take a minute.”
“You can’t—”
The hallway was short, and I was already at Lew’s open door before she could finish the sentence.
“I thought I told Myrna to tell you I was out,” Lew said when I stepped into his office. He was sitting behind his barebones desk with a half-eaten hoagie sandwich sitting on the blotter. He had mayonnaise on his red beard. I pointed to his chin, and he wiped his face with a paper napkin.
“I don’t think Myrna’s a very good liar,” I said.
“She won’t be much of a lawyer then. Cripes, maybe I should fire her.”
“No, keep her. I like her.”
“You would,” he grumbled.
The phone rang, and Lew picked it up. “No, no, Myrna, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to Miss Hayes and send her on her way very shortly.” He glowered at me and hung up.
“You’ve heard about Jerry Ross’s death, I assume.” I sat on the sofa under the window.
“I have, and the police told me too about Jerry’ sticky-finger policy when it came to Victor’s antiques. You were the one who figured that out?”
“Who told you it was me?”
“Detective Mains.”
I felt a rush of pleasure. Mains certainly didn’t have to give me the credit, but I relished the fact that he had. “Were you able to get the coins and antiques back?”
“A lot of them. Jerry hid some in the storeroom behind his forge. Probably knew Tess would run across them if he hid them at home. As for the rest of the stuff, who knows if we will ever see them again? We’ve put out bulletins to the coin traders and antiques dealers to be on the lookout for the items which have already been sold. Not that I expect to get them back. He probably sold them over the Internet. They could be in another continent by now, much less in the county.”
“Mains said he did it to pay off some debt.”
“He had some pretty major loans called in because of the economy. He used the loans to keep his blacksmithing business afloat and didn’t have the money to pay them.” Lew patted his pocket for his packet of cigarettes.
“I thought he was doing well. He said he had a big commission.”
“He did, and that would have helped but not paid off the loans completely. The blacksmithing jobs were just too few and far between for him.”
“D
id he have any heirs?”
Lew shrugged.
I pursed my lips together in thought.
“If that’s all,” Lew said, gesturing to his hoagie.
“I want a dog update.”
“There has to be someone else who can take that dog. All I have gotten from you is grief since I handed the pooch over.”
“Let’s just say, Mom’s not pleased with how attached Dad is getting to Zach. Wouldn’t you prefer I come here and talk to you about it rather than the reverend?”
“I see your point, but like I’ve said to you countless times already, I’m stuck legally. The dog can’t be put in a kennel for more than four hours at a time.”
“That seems like an awfully specific rule for Victor to insist on beyond the grave. Can you do that in a will?”
“It’s not part of the will, it’s part of the trust. Let me give you a legal lesson.”
“I’m all ears.”
Lew stopped just short of rolling his eyes. “Before Victor died, he set up a pet trust for Zach. The trust would take effect after his death. A trust doesn’t go through probate. Even with that said, the will was only in probate court for three months, even though Samuel Lepcheck took issue with it.”
“If Lepcheck contested the will, how could it go through so quickly?”
“The judge was an old golfing buddy of Victor’s. He pushed it through. I didn’t have to do much of anything.”
“Nice to have friends with power.”
Lew nodded. “With a trust, the creator of the trust—in this case, Victor—can give specific instructions detailing the care of his pet. It can be something as simple as allotting a set amount of money for the caregiver to spend at his or her discretion, or as specific as to the number of walks the dog must have during a week. If the instructions are part of the trust, they have to be carried out for the caregiver to receive their funds from the trust to care for the animal.” He sighed. “Another issue with the trust Victor created was that Tess Ross was made both Zach’s caregiver and trustee. Usually, someone would make the pet’s caregiver and the trustee of the pet’s trust a different person. This is to avoid any potential abuse.”
Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) Page 19