The Tail of the Tip-Off

by Rita Mae Brown

  Brinkley thought about pursuing her but decided Tazio was much more important. He licked her face.

  “I’m okay.” She stood up and lurched outside in time to see the dark-colored car. She couldn’t identify the color but she recognized the make. “Jesus, that’s Anne Donaldson’s car. I swear it!”

  Brinkley, never having met Anne Donaldson, wouldn’t know her but her perfume was a very expensive brand named Poison. Brinkley would recognize it if he smelled it again.

  “Are you okay?” Brinkley whined while licking Tazio’s hand.

  “You tried to tell me. Brinkley, thank God you were with me. What would she have done if you weren’t?” Finally, Tazio, shaky, stepped inside and switched on the light.

  To her relief the place wasn’t turned upside down but her long blueprint drawers were open. They were like the old bins used in newspaper offices, pages laid flat in thin drawers.

  Nothing had been stolen, but Anne had been looking at Tazio’s latest, larger projects.

  Tazio thought about calling Rick but then nothing was taken, plus she couldn’t prove it had been Anne Donaldson. Instead she drove down to the Grille.

  She walked in. Harry, Fair, and BoomBoom motioned for her to join them. Herb, Miranda, Tracy, Bill Langston, Big Mim, Little Mim, Blair, Jim, Aunt Tally, Matthew, Sandy, Matt, Jr., Ted, Susan, Ned, and Brooks were also there, reliving the game. Herb had missed the game but he was enjoying the verbal replay.

  However, no one recapped the after-game session with the sheriff and Cooper.

  Herb had regaled them with his tale of the carpet glue and the devoured communion wafers.

  Then Tazio, more disturbed than she realized, astounded them with what had just happened to her.

  “Are you sure it was Anne?” Herb asked, his gravelly voice supportive.

  “No. But I’m, um, seventy-five percent sure. Toyota Sequoia, brand-new. Brinkley warned me and I didn’t listen.”

  “Call Rick.” Tracy and the others nodded as Matthew and Sandy rose to leave. Tomorrow was a school day and it was eleven o’clock. Matt, Jr., and Ted had had enough excitement for one day.

  “Nothing was taken. I can’t prove anything. If it wasn’t her, I’ve added to her troubles.”

  “Do you know what she wanted?” Harry’s curiosity was high, per usual.

  “She’d been pulling out the drawers where I keep blueprints. But I don’t know what she wanted.”

  “Tazio, change the locks on your doors.” Matthew bent down and kissed her on the cheek, then waved goodbye to the others.

  After the Crickenbergers left, the conversation continued.

  “How did she get in?” Miranda wondered.

  “Well—I don’t know. Maybe I’m a little more shook up than I think.” Tazio exhaled. “Probably the back door. I forget to lock it sometimes, but even when I remember it’s the kind, you know, the kind you can open with a credit card.”

  “Tazio!” BoomBoom said, eyebrows raised.

  “Nobody steals anything,” she replied.

  “You’ve got computers in there.” BoomBoom couldn’t believe Tazio sometimes didn’t lock up.

  “If they want to get in, they’ll get in,” Aunt Tally forcefully said.

  “True, but why make it easy for them?” her niece, Big Mim, said. “Now listen, this talk has gone on long enough. I’m calling Rick on my cell phone and we’re all going to sit here until he arrives.”

  “Oh, Brinkley’s in the truck and he’s been there most of the night. Can’t I bring him in?”

  Lynn Carle, who owned the restaurant along with her husband, said, “Sure. It’s almost closing time anyway. I was going to lock the doors so if he’s in here, hey, who’s going to notice?”

  Tazio ran back out, returning with the dog. Everyone fussed over him since he tried to protect his human. He loved it, of course.

  Rick and Cooper arrived in a half hour’s time. Tazio told them everything as she remembered it.

  “Why’d you wait so long to call me!” Rick angrily said after hearing her report.

  Taken aback, Tazio said, “I’m fine. It’s not late.”

  “It may be too late for Anne.”

  He and Cooper flew out of the Mountain View Grille, jumped into the squad car, hit the siren and skidded out of there.

  * * *

  47

  Although the distance from the restaurant to the Donaldson house was only eight miles, the slick roads demanded careful driving.

  Twenty minutes later Rick and Cooper reached Anne’s front door.

  Relief flooded their features when Anne opened it.

  “Are you alone?” Rick removed his hat.

  “The baby-sitter’s here. Come in, Sheriff. Come in, Deputy.”

  “Thank you.” They both stepped into the front hall.

  “Has anyone called on you this evening?”

  Anne looked at Rick. “You mean at the door?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. Margaret, the baby-sitter, well, her mother dropped her off. I had a few errands to run and didn’t want to leave Cameron alone. This was also a way to ensure she gets her homework done. Sixth grade, and they pile the homework on these kids. Uh, won’t you sit down? Come on into the living room.”

  They followed her in, sitting down in chairs facing the sofa where Anne took a seat.

  “Mrs. Donaldson, has anyone phoned? E-mailed?”

  “No. Since H.H.’s death the phone’s been silent most of the time and my messages on the computer are either advertisements or from my sister.” She smiled without happiness. “When people think you’ve murdered your husband you fall off the ‘A list,’ if you know what I mean.”

  “I can imagine,” Cooper replied.

  Rick shifted in his chair, leaning forward. “Mrs. Donaldson, I have reason to believe you were in Tazio Chappars’s office tonight. Why?”

  A long, long pause followed. “Are you charging me with, well, whatever one charges in those cases?”

  “Not yet,” Rick replied. “Were you in her office?”

  “No.” Anne folded her hands in her lap.

  “Tazio has made a positive ID,” he fibbed while Cooper took notes as unobtrusively as possible.

  “Let her make it in court.” Anne was quite calm.

  “All right then. You weren’t in Tazio’s office tonight but if you were what would you look for?” He smiled.

  “Nothing. Our relations have been cordial even when people hinted she and my husband were having an affair.”

  “Were they?”

  “No. But any attractive single woman is suspect by those who feed off that kind of thing.” A note of bitterness crept into her voice.

  “H.H. worked with her on—” he turned to Cooper, “how many expensive homes?”

  “Last one on Beaverdam Road, six hundred fifty thousand dollars. Delay in completion due to H.H.’s demise and weather. New move-in date, March first.”

  “Yes, the crews have resumed working.” Anne brought her hand to her face, resting her chin for a moment on her thumb. “I’m running the business now.”

  “You worked with your husband prior to his death?”

  “No. I know very little, but I do know the Lindsays need to get into their house. The crew keeps working, the foreman is good, and I’m studying as much as I can as fast as I can, but I expect like most else in this life you learn by doing it. I don’t want to put all these men out of work. My husband built up a fine company. I’ve got to keep it going until I feel I can make better decisions. I don’t trust myself right now.”

  “Do you think you can work with Tazio?”

  “Of course. She’s a gifted architect but now that she’s gotten a taste for grand design I don’t know if she’ll piddle and paddle with residential design.”

  “Do you suspect her of wrongdoing?”

  “No.”

  Rick leaned back in the chair, then leaned forward again. “You must suspect something.”

  “No.”

 
“Did H.H. say anything to you before his death that made you question her? Or question the business?”

  A very long pause followed this. “Once when I challenged him about the affair, not with Tazio, as I said, but his latest”—she shrugged—“the argument escalated, and at one point he said, ‘You have no idea what goes on in my business. None. You just take the money I make and spend it. I’m under a lot of pressure. Competition, Anne. You know nothing of competition. So what if I indulge myself? Blow off steam. It’s better than booze or drugs.’ I thought it was another attempt at justification. Oh, the human mind is so subtle in the service of rationalization! But now, now that I’ve had time to think, I wonder. I’m still shell-shocked. I know that. I don’t trust my emotions right now but I trust my mind. Sex, love, and lust are motives to kill. Well, I didn’t kill him but there must be some women out there with those motives.”

  “We have questioned, uh, other women. They have alibis.” Rick patted his breast pocket. The crinkle of the cellophane on his Camel pack offered some succor. He knew better than to ask Anne if he could light up.

  “I see.”

  “Mrs. Donaldson, did he ever use the term ‘double-dipping’?” Cooper finally spoke.

  “No. Charging twice for the same service or materials?”

  “Yes.” Cooper nodded.

  “No. I think H.H. was aware that some people did it. Not many. Most of the reputable firms in Charlottesville really are reputable. There’s so much competition among construction firms, if someone was double-billing sooner or later the word would get out.”

  “But double-dipping, if one wanted to be crooked, would be a way to bypass Fred Forrest.” Rick heard the baby-sitter come to the top of the stairs and then walk back down the upstairs hall.

  Anne heard her, too. “Margaret, it’s okay. Do you need anything?”

  “Uh, Mrs. Donaldson, Mom expects me home.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll run you home in about”—she looked at the law officers—“ten minutes.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Donaldson.”

  “Actually, I’ll take Margaret home.” Rick spoke firmly. “You stay put and Deputy Cooper is staying with you.”

  Indignant, Anne sharply said, “Am I under house arrest?”

  “Far from it. We happen to think you may be in danger and I don’t want you left alone until we wrap this up.”

  “You’re close? You’re close to arresting H.H.’s killer?” Dread and excitement filled her voice.

  “I think we are.”

  “Were you in Tazio’s office to find a second set of books? Did you think she was in on it?” Rick stood up.

  Anne stood up, too, and slapped her hips with her hands. “Well, if an architect were in on it, it would spread the risk, wouldn’t it? It would be easier to jack up the costs, too, if, say, an architect and a construction firm were in collusion. That’s not double-dipping. That’s padding the bill. It could be quite elegantly done, you know.” Anne betrayed a greater knowledge of the business than she had previously admitted to.

  “Why Tazio?”

  “Young, ambitious, very smart, rising in this world.”

  “Maybe you thought she was vulnerable because she’s African-American. Less principled? More eager for money.” Rick knew just when to slip the knife in.

  “Actually, Sheriff, that thought never crossed my mind. Aren’t we beyond those petty prejudices?”

  “No,” Rick simply said.

  “Ah, well, I am.” She paused. “Sheriff, I shall assume that you no longer believe I murdered my husband.”

  “Let’s just say you’re slipping down the list of suspects.” He smiled.

  “Then may I ask why I may be in danger?”

  “Two reasons. The first is the killer’s fear that—for whatever reason—you’ll put two and two together. The second is that the story about being in Tazio’s office will make the rounds. Why would you be there unless you were looking for something that had to do with business?”

  “I never said I was there.”

  “You don’t have to. Others will say it for you.”

  “One more question, Sheriff, before you leave me in the capable hands of Deputy Cooper. The toxicology report?”

  Rick said, “The minute the substance is identified I’ll call you. It can’t be too much longer.”

  * * *

  48

  The party broke up at the Grille. Little Mim took out her noisemaker, a little worse for wear, and blew an olive pit through it at Blair. Emboldened by her accuracy, she also hit Harry, BoomBoom, and Fair.

  “Really, Marilyn,” Big Mim disapprovingly chided.

  “Oh, Mother.” The daughter, in the process of her emancipation, sailed by her and out the door.

  “Good evening, ladies.” Blair inclined his head, the gentleman’s version of a small bow, and left with Little Mim.

  “What is the matter with her!” A flicker of genuine anger flashed across Big Mim’s well-preserved face.

  “She’s in love. Leave her alone. The question is, ‘What’s the matter with you?’ ” Aunt Tally, as usual, was painfully direct in her manner.

  “You saw what happened to her first husband, a wastrel if ever there was one.”

  Miranda and Tracy slipped by, not wishing to participate in the discussion. Big Mim and Aunt Tally blocked the door. Harry respectfully stood behind the two older women. Jim paid the bill for everyone over the protests of the men and a few of the ladies.

  “Honeybunch, don’t get yourself exercised,” he called from the cash register counter.

  “You always take her side.” Big Mim grimaced.

  “No I don’t, but she has to live her own life. We made our mistakes. Let her make hers and you know what? This may not be a mistake. Now, honeybunch, you relax.”

  “Men,” Mim muttered under her breath.

  “Can’t live with them. Can’t live without them,” Aunt Tally concurred, but she rather liked the living-with-them part, not that she’d married. She hadn’t, but she certainly had had a string of tempestuous affairs starting back in the 1930s. As a young woman, in her late teens she blossomed into a beauty and even now, in her nineties, vestiges of that ripeness could still be glimpsed.

  “I’m doing okay,” Harry whispered to Aunt Tally.

  “Me, too,” BoomBoom agreed.

  “You’re both deluding yourselves.” Tally did not whisper her reply.

  Both women knew better than to disagree with Aunt Tally.

  “Why are you all standing here looking at me?” Big Mim crossly addressed the others.

  “You’re blocking the door. Miranda and Tracy just squeezed out before you took up your stance.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little. She truly liked Big Mim despite her airs.

  “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say something?” Big Mim stepped aside.

  Each bid her good evening. Fair had walked back to Jim to fuss over the bill.

  “Get out of here. I have more money than is good for me. You go take care of horses,” Jim good-naturedly said to the veterinarian.

  The Sanburne generosity was legendary. Fair thanked Jim but made a mental note that his next barn call to Mim’s stable would be gratis.

  He opened the door and the chill brought color to his cheeks. Harry and BoomBoom were already in the parking lot.

  “Hey, girls, wait for me.”

  “Oh?” Harry laughed.

  BoomBoom, prudently, unlocked her BMW without comment.

  “What this town needs is an after-hours bar,” Fair jovially replied.

  “In Crozet? Right. Get two people every Saturday night.” Harry, like most residents, worked hard and rose early.

  “You’re right, but we might be the two.” He waved as BoomBoom flashed her lights, then pulled out. “I know two kitties and one corgi who are lonesome for me.”

  “We like ourselves a lot tonight.”

  “I like you a lot every night.”

  The clear winter sky, the snow on the ground, the
glow from a good meal, all added to Fair’s potent masculine appeal. Plenty of women’s eyes widened when they first met the tall blond. His warm manner, his slow-burn sense of humor, he just had a way about him.