Mo said, “He was in a great mood. Very upbeat.”
With a loud cackle, Imogene broached the doorway. Behind her, a string of wheelchair-confined patients set up a racket, urging her to cross the threshold, like bettors at the racetrack race. Tammy finally saw her and lunged for the handles. She moved swiftly, taking Imogene back down the hall, telling her about keeping in line. The rest of the patients followed.
April took her chance and bent down to Mo. She whispered, “I’m trying to find out anything about Frankie Imperiale. He worked for my dad back when the Castle was being built. You had him in auto shop, remember?”
“Sure, I remember Frankie. I got him into the union . . .” His mind wandered. “George and I spent a lot of time on that job. George was the code enforcement officer, and I was just interested. It was fascinating to watch. I like to watch construction. Still do.” His voice caught as if he’d remembered it would just be him and Curly from now on. “I don’t know if I will anymore, though.”
April needed him to get back on track. “I heard that George didn’t really like Frankie.”
Mo sighed. “No one liked Frankie much. Your dad couldn’t see it, but the kid was a con man. Always playing the angles.”
“What kinds of cons?” April remembered her father talking about materials disappearing off the Castle job. “Was he stealing?”
Mo shrugged. “George thought he was. That job was wide open. No one knew what was going on.”
“There’s always a market for copper pipe and fixtures,” April said thoughtfully. She knew rings of stolen goods were always being busted. Maybe that’s what Frankie was up to. Mo was right. The Castle was the perfect job to steal from. With Warren Winchester constantly changing his mind, it must have been impossible to keep track of what was going in and out.
She gave Mo a kiss on the cheek and, at his insistence, promised to visit him again.
Tammy was back behind the front desk, her wheelchair wards lined up and quieted. She stopped April.
“What did you find out? Will you ask Deana to investigate?”
April shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tammy. There’s nothing suspicious about George’s death that I can see.” And there wasn’t. George was an old man who died in his bed in a nursing home. He was connected to the Castle, and Frankie’s death, only in the past. Still, as she left, April felt Tammy’s eyes burning holes in her back.
April thought things over as she drove home from the nursing home. Mo had known Frankie, and it was possible George had suspected him of stealing things. Why hadn’t George turned him in? Maybe Frankie had died before George had the evidence he needed. Or maybe they were working together. Would George have killed him?
April wondered if Yost would talk to her about this. Was there a police report about stolen goods back then?
Her dad didn’t seem to have a clue. He’d been so distracted that summer by his personal issues, the whole job could have been stolen out from under him, and he wouldn’t have noticed.
Coming back to the present, April decided she’d stop by the barn and see if Lyle had been by for the checks yet. If he hadn’t, she’d bring them to her father. And talk to Yost.
The checks were right where she’d left them, on her father’s desk. April scooped them up and headed for the police station.
When she got there she found Officer Yost seated at his desk. The office was small, only big enough for one desk, shared by Yost and the police chief. The phone rang but Yost didn’t pick it up.
“Good morning, Miss Buchert,” he said, with a sinister curve to his lips. He was enjoying her family’s discomfort. April looked down the hall, where the holding cell was. She couldn’t hear anyone moving about. Not a cough or a sigh.
“Where’s my dad?” she asked.
“Up at the barracks. The state police thought he’d be more comfortable up there. And before you ask, no, you can’t see him.”
April’s cheeks flamed. This guy made her so angry. She wanted to hit him.
She forced herself to sound calm. She didn’t want him to get the upper hand. “Did you find any more bones?”
He leaned back in his chair. He must have studied the Smokey and the Bandit movies, because he managed to resemble a Southern sheriff by adjusting his body language.
April didn’t trust herself to speak. She forced herself to wait. He wanted her to get upset and say something stupid.
Finally he said, “The state police have found more bones.”
“With b . . . b . . . bullet holes?” April blurted, all her hard-won coolness leaving her.
He had a satisfied look on his face. “Too early to tell.”
April cursed herself for letting him get to her. She tried to regain her equilibrium. Any thought of telling him what she’d found out vanished. There was no way he’d listen to her.
“He’s innocent,” she said. “You can’t hold him forever.”
“I can hold him long enough,” Yost said, his slick grin returning.
Vince had to get Ed out of jail. Now.
April ran out of the police station, her stomach churning. She had to talk to Vince. And tell him to call their lawyer.
She took the highway up to the Heights, blowing through nearly red lights and risking the ire of truckers by passing them on the right.
At the job site, Vince was on a walk-through with a client inside the stone Federal house. He ignored her attemps to get his attention.
Frustrated, she found Lyle head down in the blueprints spread out on a kitchen island. “What’s up? You look upset,” he said.
“Yost,” she said. Lyle grimaced. “And I need Vince to sign the payroll checks.”
“No problem. Leave them with me. I’ll make sure he signs them and that the men get paid.”
The churning in her stomach lessened. “That would help a lot.”
“At your service,” Lyle said.
She handed over the checks. As she turned to go, April said, “So did you get that pipe shipment straightened out?”
Lyle froze, and looked at her queerly. “Pipe?”
“Mitch saw you at Mirabella this morning.”
His face relaxed. “Oh that. Yup, all figured out.”
“Okay,” she said.
When April returned to the barn, Mitch’s Jeep was in the driveway. She hadn’t realized he knew where the barn was, but of course he’d worked with Ed before. He must have been to Retro Reproductions’ offices.
He was sitting on the bench outside the front door. She sensed a little flurry in her belly that felt, oddly enough, like excitement. There was no denying he was a good-looking guy. Even sitting down, leaning on his knees, fingers in his hair, he exuded strength and competence. In her mind she substituted her own hand for the one combing through his hair. And he’d come by to see her. Did he miss her? They hadn’t had much time to talk this morning. She tucked her shirt back into her jeans and checked her hair in her rearview.
He stood when she got out of her car. As she got closer her excitement turned to something else. This was not the laid-back, ready-to-help guy she’d met earlier. His face was shuttered, unreadable.
“Hey,” she said hesitantly.
“You need to leave my sister alone,” he said without preamble. His mouth was tight, as though he was forcing the words through his lips. “I know she acts tough, but she’s not. Stop asking questions about her graduation party. Stop visiting the nursing home. Stop talking to Mo.”
April was confused by his angry tone. “Slow down, Mitch. I’m just trying to keep my father out of jail.”
How had he known she was at the nursing home? Tammy must have cried to Rocky, and Rocky had complained to her brother. That’s the way the small-town telegraph system worked. With cell phones, the word spread even faster.
“I don’t know what Tammy told you—”
Mitch was not listening. “My sister was protecting her friend. And she paid a heavy price. Too heavy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Frankie was a no-good, scum of the earth. He couldn’t shine my sister’s shoes. After what he did to Tammy, he got what he deserved.”
April’s heart pounded. What if Frankie had done something to Rocky? Was the whole Winchester clan overprotective? Would Mitch have acted? Could Mitch have killed? She took a step back.
“What did he do?” she asked.
“You don’t know?” Mitch searched her face. She shook her head.
Mitch moved his eyes off her and focused on a tall pine tree. April could see a hawk in the very top. Mitch’s voice was quiet. “It’s not my story to tell.”
April’s mind was reeling. “I don’t understand.”
“The only thing that matters is that when Rocky found him, he had a sizable stash of marijuana on him. She can be formidable, my sister, and she threatened him with everything our family name could rain down on him. She told him to leave town or she’d turn his drugs over to Yost.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “He left, and she never heard from him again. She thought that was the end of things. Unfortunately, after everyone had gone home, Yost came to the house because of the neighbors’ complaints, and Rocky let him in. He found Frankie’s marijuana. The quantity was enough to trigger an intent-to-sell charge. Rocky was looking at hard time.” He was lost in the past. April’s stomach clutched. She’d had no idea what had really gone down at the party that night. But Mitch hadn’t even been there.
“I thought you were away at college,” she said softly.
He didn’t hear her. “It cost my father everything to keep her out of jail. He sent her to France the next day. That’s the real reason the Castle never got finished. He went broke making sure she was never prosecuted. Lawyers cost a bundle.”
“And my dad went bankrupt,” April said bitterly.
“I am sorry about that,” Mitch said, coming back to the present. “I’ve done everything I can to build his reputation back up. I always recommend Retro Reproductions to my clients. I’m your father’s personal public relations man.”
She shook her head. “My father . . .”
Mitch looked at her, for the first time. “You’re not your father, any more than I’m mine. They made mistakes, each of them. But we don’t have to let their mistakes define us.”
CHAPTER 15
April’s mind was spinning as she watched him leave. Rocky hadn’t told her the truth about the party. Neither had Piper. Had Tammy? She knew where all of them would be tonight. At the country club, at the all-night stamping party. She’d go and find out. Because someone in the stamping group knew the answer to what happened that night. Everything pointed to them. Many of them had known Frankie. Rocky nearly went to jail over his pot. He was Piper’s lover. Everyone else in town seemed to have forgotten him, but not the stamping group.
April gathered her stamping supplies in her old Lancŏme bag and dressed in ratty sweats and a paint-stained T-shirt. If she was going to stay up all night, she wanted to be comfortable.
Then she remembered her mother was working tonight. It was some kind of casino night at the club. She changed into her good jeans and a button-down blue shirt. Her mother wouldn’t need to be ashamed of her daughter for dressing like a bum, pajama party or not.
She got to the club just after nine. Deana had told her the stampers would be in the Hazle Room. She knew where that was, near the kitchen on the opposite side from the bar where she and Mitch had cut through yesterday. The book-lined room was decorated just as she remembered, with nail-headed leather furniture and dark green wallpaper. Several large cherry library tables filled the center of the space. Someone had strung industrial-sized power strips under the table, taping down the cords with duct tape.
Luggage-type rolling carts and plastic bins littered the floor. The stampers were all here and had already started on their projects. Deana greeted April as she entered and dumped her bag at a spot Deana had saved for her. But she wasn’t ready to sit just yet; she walked around the room, looking at what everyone was working on.
Mary Lou grabbed her hand. “We’re happy you’re here.”
April was glad someone was glad to see her. She asked, “What are you doing?”
Mary Lou smiled. “I’m making tags. I hang one on each of the housewarming gifts I send. My clients love the homemade touch.” She’d personalized them with items she knew the new owners liked. A dog stamp for a poodle lover, a pig for a collector of all things porcine. A sail for those lucky enough to have a boat.
“Those are lovely,” April said sincerely. The tags had nice proportion, and Mary Lou had a great sense of color.
“Check this out,” her daughter said. Kit showed her her copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. She’d painted a mustache on the beatific mother on the cover. “I’m altering this to reflect my pregnancy.” Kit held up the page she was working on. It was a journal entry about swollen feet. A handsome, long-haired man sat on the end of a bed, rubbing the feet of a woman whose face was obscured by her gigantic belly. Kit had stamped words of endearment in a balloon coming out of his mouth.
“Oh, so this is fantasy,” April joked.
Kit laughed. “You bet.”
Tammy greeted April perfunctorily. No one noticed but April, but she felt the chill. Tammy’s hands shook slightly as she showed April the cards she was making. They were straight from the manufacturer’s suggestions; Tammy wasn’t changing them at all. She was just cutting and pasting. Rocky, sitting close to Tammy, watched April closely.
Piper looked up at Tammy’s work. “I thought the idea was to make a card that you can’t find at a Hallmark store.”
Rocky glowered, but Kit was the one who came to Tammy’s rescue. “People will love getting your cards,” she said. “Just because you made them.”
Tammy smiled wanly. “I’m not in a creative mood.”
Rocky was working on a new collage. April saw she had already stamped a three-leafed plant and a graduation cap. The Castle was in the center of her piece again. Oddly, there was a picture of a hot dog in a circle with a line through it. April didn’t presume to understand what Rocky was thinking.
Piper’s table was littered with the papers mothers collect during their kid’s school years. Report cards, perfect attendance awards, a program for “Our Town,” and even a birth certificate. April saw the birth certificate had been altered. Frankie Imperiale’s name had been handwritten in the blank for the father’s name in big block letters.
A parent no longer denied. April moved away from Piper without comment. She didn’t know what to say.
Suzi was stamping flowers on a silk scarf. She was sitting next to Piper, watching April closely.
Turning away from Suzi’s gaze, April saw Mary Lou and Kit laughing as they scrapped together. April felt a pang in her heart that made her look toward the door to the kitchen. She had one thing to do before she could get started. She pushed open the kitchen door.
Bonnie was setting small desserts on a silver three-tiered dish. She looked tired.
“Long day?” April said. It was difficult for her to see how hard her mother worked.
Bonnie looked up, surprised. She used her forearm to brush a hair from her cheek. “I thought you were crafting with your friends,” she said.
“Friends? That’s a bit of a stretch,” April said.
“They’re nice people, April.”
April heard the warning in her mother’s voice. Not to judge so quickly, not to draw conclusions about people because of their social status. But that wasn’t the source of April’s doubts tonight. Tonight she was worried one of them was a murderer.
“Okay, Mom. I don’t want to fight.”
“How’s your father holding up?” Bonnie asked.
“We don’t have to talk about him,” April said quickly. “Vince is handling him.”
Bonnie wiped down the counter, the pink tile chipped in places. The backsplash was old yellow linoleum attached to the wall with a stainless steel band that was ben
t and pulling off the wall in spots. The stove was old, with only four burners. Whatever money the club had spent, it hadn’t been in the kitchen. This was the last place the members saw. And yet Bonnie sent out wonderful meals each day.
“It’s really okay, April.” She sighed.
April’s scalp tightened. “That’s why I came in here, Mom. I wanted to tell you I know you’re doing the best you can. I have no idea what it must be like to live in this small town, day after day, with your ex-husband three miles away with his lover. That must be unbearably hard.”
Bonnie looked surprised, then snorted. “You should have heard the old biddies at church the first time Vince came to the Sunday social with your dad. Mrs. Gearhart nearly had a coronary.” Her face crumpled and her voice filled with tears. “I didn’t know what to do.”
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