The Point of Death: An Austin, Texas Art Mystery (the Michelle Hodge series Book 1)

by Roslyn Woods

  “I see what you mean. So you thought Irving Jansen had killed Dr. Leone?”

  “It’s the first thing I thought, and I still think that’s what happened.”

  “Because?”

  “Because he was her husband and he had a motive. He’d fallen for someone else. A woman who looked a lot like Dr. Leone did twenty years earlier.”

  “But she was still beautiful.”

  “Yes, but she wasn’t as young as she used to be. Lacy used that, I think.”

  “I saw you at his house the next day. You were leaving, and you were crying.”

  Brigitte looked at Shell in the dim light and rubbed her temples again before speaking. “I took flowers to get him to let me in, and once I was alone face to face with him, I couldn’t stand it. I accused him! I told him I knew it was him and that she didn’t deserve it, and the judgment of God was coming!”

  “Why? Why did you say that?”

  “Because I hope it does. I hope he burns in hell.”

  “You’re that sure? What about—” here Shell paused and bit her lip before continuing, “What about Jeremy?”

  “Jeremy? I don’t think Jeremy would go so far as to kill someone, and what did he have against her? He thought she was great, plus she was a source of income to him.”

  “But you said he’d decided he was going to fix the problem with Lacy and Irving Jansen himself.”

  “Not by killing Dr. Leone! I think he might have been trying to talk Lacy into stopping the relationship. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me, so that’s my guess.”

  “Brigitte, we’ve gotta get you out of here. I’m afraid you’re in danger. Jeremy is going to come back and—”

  Just then they heard the sound of a car pulling into the gravel driveway.

  “Oh shit!” said Brigitte. “Go into the kitchen! Don’t let him know you’re here. I’ll try and get rid of him, and if you get a chance, sneak out the back door!”

  “Why? Why not just confront him?”

  “Because he may go ballistic on us.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone with him.”

  “I think he’s in apologetic mode. Just go.”

  “You don’t have to put up with him, Brigitte.”

  “I know. Right now I’m going to humor him. It’s my decision.”

  Chapter 29

  Donald had messaged Margie at nine to make sure she wasn’t alone at the bakery just as Geraldine popped her head into his office.

  “You wanna have lunch today?” she asked. “Thomas and Ed and I are going to eat at The Roaring Fork, and we thought maybe you’d join us.”

  At that moment, Margie’s reply came in. Pete’s here most of the time. I’m fine.

  “Sorry. I’m going to meet Margie for lunch,” he said, looking up from his phone. Most of the time wasn’t good enough. He needed to make sure she was okay. Her ex hadn’t made an appearance since Friday, but that was no guarantee he wouldn’t surface today.

  “Don’t you think you’re breathing down her neck a bit?” said Geraldine. “I mean, Friday, Saturday and today, too?”

  “No, I don’t.” And Sunday. I saw her Sunday, too. Let’s see, I met her on Wednesday. So that’s Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and today’s Mon—His thoughts were interrupted.

  “I mean,” Geraldine was continuing, “a young girl like that might start to feel overwhelmed by an older guy spending so much—”

  “Geraldine, my relationship with Margie is not something I’m interested in discussing with you,” he said directly.

  “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit a nerve! Your friends would just like to see you some of the time, too, that’s all.”

  “Thanks, but right now, I’d rather see her.” An older guy? Am I too old to be in a relationship with Margie? Not that he wanted to be in a relationship.

  “Ouch! Okay!” she said before adding in a singsong voice, “But we’re going to have steak!” as if steak could entice him away from Margie.

  Just then, Thomas came up behind Geraldine and leaned his head into the office, “Hey Donald!” he said. “You got a minute?”

  “Sure, Thomas, come on in,” Donald said sarcastically. “It seems to be old home week in here.”

  “I can take a hint,” said Geraldine. “I’m leaving.”

  Thomas pushed past her and came into the office, oblivious to Donald’s irritation, and Geraldine gave an awkward little wave and walked down the hall toward her own office.

  “Sally really liked Margie,” he said, seating himself in a chair that was placed in front of Donald’s desk. “She was thinking maybe we could double sometime. There’s a movie at the Arbor right now that’s—”

  “Thomas, that’s really nice, and I’m sure we’d love to sometime, but we’re still newly—um—newly—”

  “Oh! I get it! You’re still at that stage where nothing can compete with time alone with your smoking hot woman!” Thomas stopped and laughed before adding, “Sally couldn’t stop talking about how sweet and friendly Margie is. She was impressed you’d found someone so nice and down to earth.”

  “Well, thanks, Thomas. I’m glad you get it.” That’s right, he was thinking. She’s a woman, not a “young girl.” Then he added, “And of course, Margie and I would love to do a movie and dinner sometime with you and Sally. I think she’d really like that in maybe—I don’t know—a few—”

  “Weeks, months, whatever. No explanation necessary.”

  “I’ll ask her about it and get back to you. How’s that?”

  “Take your time. We both think she’s a keeper.”

  As he headed up to Pete’s Perfect Pastries, Donald had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. There were two reasons for this. One was that Geraldine had pointed out that Margie was too young to be courted by a guy his age. That was somehow very distressing even if he wasn’t interested in having a relationship with her. Did Margie think he was too old for her?

  The other thing that was bothering him was the fact that she had turned him down when he’d asked her to lunch.

  Of course it was normal to turn someone down when they ask you to do something at the last minute, and there could be no blame assigned. She was busy or something. But why hadn’t she explained why she couldn’t go to lunch today? Why hadn’t she soothed his feelings by giving him a reason? Instead she had only replied to his texted request with “I’m sorry I can’t go today. Maybe another time.” It sounded so distant. Had it gotten around that she was single again and guys were coming out of the woodwork wanting to date her? Maybe she was having lunch with some younger guy.

  He pulled into the parking lot a good bit away from the shop, thankful for the second time that the bakery was located on the busy corner of a huge strip mall, and the parking lot was expansive. From where he sat, with the aid of the binoculars he kept in the well between the seats for birding, he could see through the glass windows of the bakery that Margie was working behind the counter. Her hair appeared to be pulled back in a loose bow that was tied at the nape of her neck.

  Yes, she is a smoking hot woman, he thought as he put the binocs down. What is wrong with me? He’d been thinking thoughts like this since the other night. It was that charade that had thrown him, made him think of her as something more than a friend. And that kiss, he thought, That kiss has been impossible to keep out of my mind.

  He shook off the image of Margie standing in the moonlight and surveyed the parking lot for any yellow car. There was a VW not far off, but there was no Corvette.

  Was he just going to sit here from noon to two? Was he just going to watch the place in case Jeremy showed up, or was he watching for more than one reason? Was he watching to see what she did at her lunch break? Or was it just that he wasn’t able to make himself stay away from her? He had threatened Jeremy with the ultimate punishment if he were to come near Margie again. For some reason, he thought he had acquainted the younger man with the fear of God and he wouldn’t come back.

  So
why am I here? Because he could come back, that’s why, and that’s all there is to it!

  He detected movement in front of the store and lifted the binocs again. A blond woman. Was it Shell? It certainly looked as if Shell had just gone into the bakery. In another couple of minutes, a gray-haired man came out and held the door while Shell and Margie came out. They stood and spoke to him for a moment. Then they walked a short distance to a car. Shell’s car. She’s having lunch with Shell. She must have already agreed to have lunch with her friend.

  Donald experienced an unaccountable feeling of relief. She’d had a legitimate reason for turning him down today, and the reason wasn’t another man, and it wasn’t that she was feeling overwhelmed. Of course it wasn’t. Thomas was right. She was a nice, sweet, friendly, down to earth, smoking hot woman.

  At just that moment his cell buzzed. He recognized the number and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Donald Carter of Travis County Emotional Wellbeing?” said a man’s voice.

  “It is.”

  “This is Sergeant Moore of the Austin Police Department. We’d like you to come into the station and talk to us about Doris Leone.”

  Chapter 30

  Shell waited in the kitchen until she heard the keys in the front door. She turned the lock and opened the back door and went out onto the porch, nearly silently shutting the door behind her. Then, ducking below whatever windows she passed, she made her way around the house, past the yellow Corvette, and across the dry grass, thankful that the shades in Brigitte’s living room were tightly drawn.

  It only took a minute to get up the road to her own car, and she drove north until she reached the Pleasant Hill Library and pulled into the parking lot.

  Was she doing the right thing leaving Brigitte like that? What if Jeremy was going to hurt her? I’ve gotta talk to Margie.

  She picked up her phone and texted. I’ve just been talking to Brigitte, and it turns out Jeremy has given her a black eye. He got there while we were talking, and I snuck out, but I feel awful.

  Shell sat waiting for a minute expecting a texted reply, but her phone rang. Margie’s name was printed across the screen.

  “Hey, Margie.”

  “Did Brigitte feel okay about you leaving?”

  “She told me to. I said I didn’t feel right leaving her, and she said it was her decision and she was humoring him and he was in apologetic mode.”

  “Well I’m glad you left. It’s not your problem, especially if she’s not ready to confront him.”

  “I just feel bad.”

  “I’ll have a lunch break in thirty minutes. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it?”

  “Okay. I’m on my way.”

  The new wedding cake dummy was gorgeous, and Shell was glad she was getting to see it.

  “I like the wine glasses,” she said, admiring the way the rosebuds Margie had made wound their way around the base of each glass and leaves and more buds trailed down the sides of the center tier.

  “Yes, those were Pete’s idea,” Margie replied, “and I like them so much better than the glass pillars we used on the other one.”

  “Shell!” said Pete. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at the bakery!” he added, coming around the counter to give Shell a hug.

  “Yeah, I’ve been busy. Trying not to eat too many sweets, too,” she added. “Today I’m stealing Margie away for her lunch break.”

  “Ah! Well I’m glad you two girls have each other. You’ve got plenty to talk about, no doubt. Don’t be a stranger! Stanton and I would love to have you both over to dinner sometime.”

  “Aw, Pete, that’s sweet! We’d love to come!” said Shell.

  “I’ll ask Stanton and we’ll set a date,” he said as he led the way to the door and opened it for the two of them. “You can take an extra half hour today,” he said to Margie. “It’s not very often a friend drives all the way up here to take you to lunch!”

  “Thanks, Pete,” Margie said. “See you in an hour and thirty minutes, then!”

  They tried the Thai House because it was only a few blocks away from the bakery, and they were sipping sweet and creamy Thai iced tea while they waited for their lunches.

  “So tell me what in the world you were doing at Brigitte’s house!” Margie said, her annoyance at Shell apparent in the expression on her face.

  “I couldn’t muster any fear of her, Margie. Anyway, I learned a lot from our talk, but now I’m worried about her. Jeremy has lost it.”

  “I thought it was her, somehow,” Margie said.

  “You mean Jeremy’s affair? How did you guess?”

  “I don’t really know. Maybe I could smell her perfume or something. Did he see you before you left?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, if she’s not ready to confront him, it wouldn’t do any good for you to try and do it for her.”

  “It felt wrong leaving her.”

  “I know, but you have to let this go. You can’t fix everything. Maybe it will sort itself out, anyway.”

  “I hope so. Do you think I should call her?”

  “Yeah. Check on her after a while. Give Jeremy time to leave or something,” she added. Then she frowned and said, “Shell, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “What’s up? You sound serious.”

  “I am serious,” she answered, pushing her glass sideways and leaning forward. “I’ve been having a struggle with myself, and I’m losing. I didn’t want this to happen, and since it has I feel like I’m swimming in quicksand.”

  “Donald? He seems enchanted with you.”

  “He’s not. He likes me, and I think he’s really been lonely for a friend who doesn’t have designs on him, but he keeps mentioning the fact that we’re just friends, that our playacting at being together for Geraldine was a charade. You don’t keep pointing it out unless you want the person you’re talking to to get the hint. I think he’s afraid I like him too much. Which I do.”

  “What is it you want to do? He hasn’t stopped contacting you.”

  “No, he hasn’t. Right after I asked you to come up here, I got a text from him asking me to have lunch with him.”

  “Oh! You could have cancelled with me. I’d have understood.”

  “No. It was good. I told him I couldn’t do it today. I’ve seen him every single day since we met, and I haven’t been able to put any distance between us. I’m afraid I’m going to break my own heart.”

  “I think it’s fine you’re busy sometimes when he wants to do something, but don’t get so distant you eliminate the chance of something growing on his side. I think he’s attracted to you.”

  “You do?”

  “Even if he doesn’t know it himself, he’s spent an awful lot of time with you for just meeting you last Wednesday night.”

  “That’s my fault. I suggested pretending we were together to get rid of Geraldine. I also asked him to eat at your place last night.”

  “Did he seem unwilling?” Shell asked.

  “No. He wanted to help you with the mystery.”

  “I actually need to talk to him again,” Shell added.

  “About what you learned today?”

  “Yes. We could ask to meet him somewhere tonight, and we could have a conversation about the new information. Then I could leave or something. Go do an errand or something like that.”

  “Or not! I need to distance myself. You’re not helping.”

  “Let it happen if it wants to. Maybe he’ll ask you to stay and offer to drive you home later.”

  “No. I’ll go home with you,” Margie insisted. “Besides, you’re not going to my place alone. That’s gotta be a rule.”

  “Whatever. Would you try and relax?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yeah, you can. Relax. Chill.”

  “Right. Chill.”

  Chapter 31

  Donald thought Sgt. Bill Moore needed an attitude adjustment. His aggressive manner
felt more like bullying than interviewing, and it occurred to him that some training in talking to people with courtesy might have helped the old fellow get more information.

  “So all this time has gone by, and you never came forward, Dr. Carter,” said the sergeant with a frown on his face. His white crewcut looked so military that Donald thought he might as well have been in uniform. The pale green of the painted brick wall behind him washed out his skin somehow, so that he looked almost green himself, but Donald was mostly taking in the picture before him at a subconscious level. His mind was working on the problem of responding honestly without insulting the man.

  “I wondered why you didn’t contact me,” Donald answered, “so I contacted you. When I first heard about her death, I had a struggle with the fact that what she told me, even the fact of her seeing me in the first place, was confidential. I’ve gone over my notes extensively during this past week, and I think it’s possible there are some things that could help you with your investigation. That’s the only reason I’m willing to divulge anything related to Doris Leone.”

  “Okay. What can you tell us?”

  “She came to see me on the morning of the day she died—”

  “Was it a special appointment?”

  “No. She came in every Tuesday at eight a.m. and stayed one hour. I’d been seeing her for three months.”

  “Did she have a special concern that brought her to you?”

  “Yes. Her marriage was at a difficult point. She thought it was possible her husband was seeing another woman.”

  “But she wasn’t sure?”

  “No. She hired someone, I don’t know who, to watch him. There was also a woman, a student of hers, who was to help the other person.”