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Murder in the Stacks (A DAFFODILS Mystery)

Page 10

by Mary Clay


  "--and may put our lives in danger," I jumped in, recalling the terror of the Russian and Italian mob shootout in our complex a few years ago.

  "How could it affect you?" Alice demanded.

  "Please come over so we can explain," I pleaded.

  Guthrie arrived at our front door before Alice. Since he usually drank his coffee, or whatever, on his balcony that overlooked our parking lot, he saw the two sets of law enforcement arrive and witnessed Kevin being led out. Guthrie was on our doorstep the moment the cops left. Alice appeared before we could close the door. She has holding a scotch and her cell phone.

  "I just left a message for my contact at an Italian family. I won't say who," Alice blurted, mad as a hornet.

  "Aunt Alice, we asked you to wait," Penny Sue said.

  Five-foot-four Alice instantly seemed to telescope to ten-foot-six. "My only son was led away in handcuffs! Did you really think I'd do nothing?"

  "There are things you don't know," I said gently, guiding her into the great room. "Coffee, anyone?" I asked, half expecting Guthrie to request a scotch.

  "Black and strong," Guthrie replied, as he sat at the counter. "Believe it or not, I have a job in Daytona Beach at the Medical Examiner's. Can you believe it? I may be able to sneak a peek at Abby's autopsy report. There was a power outage last night that screwed up their system, and some of their computers are re-eally old."

  "Can I go with you?" Alice asked, taking a big gulp of scotch.

  For once, Guthrie gave the scotch a disapproving look. "Alice, this is a state facility. Man, we can't go in smelling like booze, or I'll lose the job. My contact is a buddy from the olden days, if you get my drift, but he's clean and sober now. A single whiff of alcohol and I'm off the list."

  Alice handed her drink to Penny Sue and motioned to the sink. "I'll have a cup of black coffee," Alice said. "So what's this stuff about endangering your lives?" she asked me.

  I gave her an abbreviated version of the New Jersey gang war during the 2004 hurricanes.

  "I didn't know that," Alice said. "This could be a problem, not only for you, but for Kevin."

  Penny Sue's eyes went wide. "You didn't call any Russians, did you?"

  Tiny Alice flashed a tiny smile. "I did make one call to an old acquaintance."

  I threw my head back. "Oh, crap."

  Penny Sue's eyes bored holes in me. "Don't talk to my Aunt like that!"

  "I'm sorry, Alice, but we don't need to be in the middle of another mob war," I said.

  "Tell me again, why was Kevin arrested?" Ruthie asked Alice.

  "He's actually being held by Volusia County as a material witness to prevent his extradition to New Jersey. I know the cops think I'll be able to get him out of jail in Jersey; they said as much."

  "Why does New Jersey want Kevin?" Ruthie pressed.

  Alice's shoulders slumped, the look of an old woman who was worn and tired but refused to give in to age. "A turnpike pileup where a woman was killed." She sighed. "It was all because of a domestic dispute. The husband had been drinking, the couple argued, and the wife fled in her car. The husband went after her, and Kevin happened to be behind the husband on the turnpike. Well, there was a minor fender bender ahead. The wife hit her brakes, but the husband's reflexes weren't very good, so he hit her hard. The poor lady was squished. Kevin was able to stop and only sustained minor damage, but he was subpoenaed to appear in court for the prosecution. The husband was charged with DUI and vehicular manslaughter. The trial was postponed, and Kevin swears he never received a notice that it had been rescheduled." Alice gritted her teeth. "The process server says otherwise, so now Kevin's FTA in Jersey."

  "Gracious, what a mess," Ruthie said, cutting her eyes at Penny Sue. "And all because of alcohol."

  Penny Sue's eyes narrowed. "You don't know that. There was probably a lot more to the couple's argument than alcohol. Besides, Volusia County is holding Kevin as a material witness for Abby's death." Penny Sue had flipped into her Jessica Fletcher persona.

  "If that's true, they must have ruled out natural causes," Ruthie mused.

  Penny Sue started to pace. "We need information on the autopsies, and we need to find out who the dead man was." She planted her feet and stared at me. "What was the name of the guy looking for the bum?"

  "Don't call him a bum!" Ruthie snapped.

  Penny Sue rolled her eyes. "Excuse me. The dead man, is that all right?"

  "Leonard Kydd," I said quickly, hoping to prevent our own domestic disturbance. "What Kevin really needs is a lawyer. Penny Sue, do you suppose your dad can recommend someone?"

  "Sure, I'll give him a call."

  "Ladies," Guthrie interrupted, "I have to go. I'll try to do some snooping at the Medical Examiner's office." He turned to Alice. "If you can get the scotch odor off your breath, you can tag along as my assistant. But you can't be aggressive. Don't ask any questions. And, man, please don't threaten anyone."

  Alice looked contrite. "Agreed. You call the shots."

  "While you're doing that, we'll track down Kydd. Can you call off your New Jersey dogs?" Penny Sue asked Alice.

  She snatched her cell phone and headed for the door. "I'll try, but those guys move fast. Guthrie, when are you leaving?"

  "In an hour."

  "I'll gargle mouthwash and be at your bus by then."

  Chapter 9

  As soon as Guthrie and Alice left, Ruthie folded her arms and slumped on the counter.

  "You're not going to get sick, are you?" Penny Sue shrieked, inching away.

  I bolted from my stool and stroked Ruthie's back at arm's length. Ruthie had a weak stomach that was known to act up in tense situations, and I was not in the mood for puke so early in the morning.

  "I'm fine. I just can't believe Kevin's in jail and Alice called in the mafia." Ruthie reached for my telephone. "If any of the alarm companies can install a system today, I'm buying it. We don't have time to lose, and Lu Nee 2's Halt, who goes there? doesn't cut it for me."

  "God's truth," Penny Sue replied, en route to the taser positioned on the coffee table. She ejected the battery pack and plugged it into the wall. "Is there any more of the saline solution?"

  "I believe there's another bottle in your condo," I said.

  "I'll call the company and get them to express ship some more." Ruthie held up her finger to silence us when the alarm company answered. She talked for a few minutes, then hung up disgustedly. "They don't keep an inventory. Everything has to be special ordered after the inspection." The second company wasn't any better. "Darn it, they don't stock anything, either. I guess we're on our own for a few days."

  "We should spend the night in Penny Sue's condo. It's alarmed, and we really shouldn't leave Alice there alone. Two of us can sleep in Kevin's room and the other--"

  Penny Sue's jaw muscles contracted. "Well, I'm not sleeping with Alice, even if it's a king-sized bed!"

  "I'll sleep on your sofa. You can sleep with Ruthie," I said quickly. Penny Sue snored like a sailor. Of course, she didn't believe us and refused to be tested for sleep apnea, saying a stupid mask would ruin her sex life. We tried to tell her that dying would be worse for her sex life, but she wouldn't listen. Muleheaded. Judge Daddy had her pegged right.

  Ruthie's eyes went wide, no doubt picking up my thought about the snoring. "I'm shorter, I'll sleep on the sofa," she said.

  "For heavens sake, you're buying me an alarm system. Sleeping on the sofa is the least I can do."

  "Yes, but I've stayed with you for weeks," Ruthie said in a honey dripping tone. She really didn't want to sleep in the same room with Penny Sue. "The alarm system is the least I can do. I want to sleep on the couch."

  "Hush." Penny Sue clapped her hands to silence us. "I'll sleep on the damned sofa." She snagged a piece of toast, took a bite, and started to chew. "Besides," she finally said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "the sofa pulls out into a queen-sized bed."

  Ruthie and I exchanged a relieved glance. "Well, if you insist." I r
eached for the breadbasket, but stopped with my hand suspended in mid-air. "If that's a sofa bed in your living room, why didn't you pull it out for Guthrie when he stayed with us during the hurricanes?"

  Penny Sue canted her head and took a sip of coffee. "I didn't want to encourage him to stay."

  "That was mean, Penny Sue. Guthrie had an injured knee," I said.

  "With drippy, frozen meat tied to it. Do you think I wanted that mess on my chesterfield?"

  "Guthrie used the frozen food on his knee so he could conserve ice." Ruthie came to his defense.

  "Yeah, but it was nasty." I could understand Penny Sue's position.

  "The worst was the chicken." Penny Sue grimaced. "Remember how he showed up at our door with a frozen Perdue roaster strapped to his knee with an Ace bandage?"

  I chuckled. "And it kept sliding down his leg!"

  "Laa, and Ruthie kept pulling his chicken back up to his knee." Penny Sue started to laugh.

  "Oh, Lord, that was funny." I was giggling now.

  "What's so funny about that?" Ruthie asked, clearly confused. "The man needed help."

  Penny Sue wiped tears from her face. "Honey, a man whose chicken reaches his ankle does not need help."

  Ruthie didn't get it. "What? What?"

  "Never mind, sugar, it's not important." Penny Sue tensed her lips to keep a straight face. "I'll sleep on the couch."

  I swallowed a laugh and changed the subject. "I don't really think the authorities would go to the trouble and expense of extraditing a person for a traffic accident. I'm with Penny Sue; I believe this has something to do with Abby's death. So, the sooner we figure out what happened to Abby and ... the man ... the sooner things will get back to normal. Penny Sue, call your dad about an attorney, then you and I should see what we can find out about Leonard Kydd and his friend."

  "Yep, let's get at it." Penny Sue hooked her pocketbook on her shoulder. "I'll call Daddy from the car. Don't forget the extra saline, Ruthie. We may need it."

  Our first stop was the library; it was payday and I needed the money. I'd gone overboard on a birthday present for Zack, Jr., and my credit card bill was due any day. His college sweetheart moved to Vail with him, but dumped him for a rich Olympic skier. I thought I knew how Zack, Jr. felt, and I wanted to cheer him up. So, I went all out with silk underwear and North Face ski bibs with a matching jacket. Considering Zack's 27 years old, I guess I really couldn't identify with his feelings after all. Another girl had moved in before his birthday cake was digested--maybe before the candles were blown out. Ah, youth. Such resiliency!

  Penny Sue opted to sit in the car and call her father. I swept through the front door of the library to the back room, signed for my check, and was hoofing past the circulation desk when a familiar face caught my eye in the magazine section. It was Leonard Kydd! I stuffed the check in my purse and headed down a row of books so I could catch him by surprise. At the end of the aisle, I paused to appraise the situation. Although Kydd held a magazine at eye level, he was really gazing across the top at the patrons. Hmm, just like his partner used to do. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that Kydd was connected to the dead man. As Kydd watched the front of the library, I slid in from the side and sat next to him.

  "The man found dead was your friend, wasn't he?" I whispered. Kydd jumped close to a foot out of his seat.

  "What? Who are you?" He closed the magazine and started to leave.

  I clutched his arm. "Listen, I have a friend in jail that's somehow connected to your friend. It appears you've taken your buddy's station here at the library. I want to know what you're looking for. You realize there's another death involved, don't you? I think we should swap information and work together. If we don't, things could get ugly. Not only are the police on the case, but so are some mafia types."

  Kydd stared at me incredulously. "Mafia types?" He studied me for a moment. "Hey, I know you. You're the lady I spoke with at the checkout desk."

  "One and the same. I'm not trying to cause trouble; I only want to clear my friend. I believe we'll both get what we want by working together. Why don't we go somewhere and talk?" Heavens, I couldn't believe I was using that line. I sounded like Penny Sue, who suddenly appeared in front of us with her hands on her hips.

  "I thought the hogs got you," she said to me, all the while giving Kydd the up and down. He apparently passed inspection, because her shoulders dropped and her faced morphed into the Scarlett O'Hara expression.

  "Penny Sue Parker, meet Leonard Kydd," I said.

  He rose and extended his hand. "My pleasure," Leonard said in his thick British accent.

  She fluttered her lashes demurely. "Likewise."

  Likewise? God, now Penny Sue had flipped into her version of English gentry. Honestly, her personality changed so fast, I almost had whiplash. Yet, I needed to intervene before all her flipping blew our chances with Kydd. "Why don't we go have a cup of coffee or a bite to eat? I'm famished," I fibbed.

  "I'm starvin' too," Penny Sue added, her attention fixed on Leonard.

  Starvin' for what? I thought wryly. Food or a man?

  Kydd's eyes shifted from Penny Sue to me. I suppose he decided we weren't too dangerous, because he agreed.

  "That new restaurant, the Upper Deck, has a cozy lounge on the first floor that's the perfect place for good food and getting acquainted," Penny Sue gushed. "Happy hour starts at noon."

  Penny Sue's emphasis on acquainted and happy hour made my skin crawl. The lack of male attention had definitely taken a toll on her, and she'd always been fascinated by Brits, Europeans, and foreigners in general. There was no doubt that her focus was on affairs of the heart and not on the affairs of her Cousin Kevin.

  "It is a nice place," I assured Leonard, who was obviously leery of Penny Sue. "Do you have a car?"

  "A rental."

  "I drive a small Volkswagen, so you may want to follow me."

  Penny Sue did some more eyelash fluttering. "I'll ride with Leonard and show him the way."

  Why didn't that surprise me? Soul mate Rich was completely forgotten. Penny Sue was back on the prowl.

  Penny Sue was snuggled close to Leonard on a sofa when I arrived. I made a quick stop to deposit my check at the bank next door, so they beat me to the restaurant by several minutes. His body language said Penny Sue was too close for comfort, because his back was against the overstuffed arm with his knees angled toward her. I reckon he planned to kick her if she lunged for him. I sat in a chair facing them on the other side of a coffee table.

  "I ordered Pinot Grigio for us. It's two for one." Penny Sue grinned.

  "Thanks." I leaned across the table and addressed Leonard. "I don't believe I introduced myself. I'm Leigh Stratton. I live nearby and work at the library."

  "Nice to put a name with your face," he said crispy, glancing at me briefly before cutting his eyes back to Penny Sue. She was definitely making him nervous. Lucky for him, the waitress arrived with our drinks. He made a grab for his, but couldn't reach it from the corner of the sofa. "It seems to be a little tight. Do you mind?" he asked Penny Sue.

  "Oh, so sorry," she said demurely, batting her lashes as she took a sip of wine and scooted to the side.

  Honestly, Penny Sue was so obvious. I was happy she wasn't wearing false eyelashes. At her first wedding she did so much lash fluttering, a false eyelash fell off. We were chatting by the champagne punch when I noticed that one eye looked a lot bigger than the other. I mentioned it and she went berserk. "It's sable," she shrieked, "and cost a fortune!"

  Next thing you know, a hoard of men were on their hands and knees searching for the darned lash as if it were a contact lens or her diamond ring. It was a sight. Black, tuxedoed butts crawling around Penny Sue like a swarm of ants. Judge Daddy finally called off the hunt and drew Penny Sue to the dance floor. It was then that I took a sip of champagne and found the creepy thing at the bottom of my glass. It looked like a big, dead centipede. I haven't cared for champagne since.

  "Leonard,"
I led off, "did Penny Sue explain the situation on the way over?"

  "I gather her cousin is in jail for missing a court date, but you ladies believe it's a ruse. The real reason he's being held is because he's suspected of killing a former lover, such lover having been found dead in the library on the same night a man was found dead there as well."

  "Yes, a man who regularly staked out the magazine section like you did today. Who was he, what was he doing, and why are you here? It's too coincidental for both deaths to occur at the library on the same night."

  Leonard let out a long sigh. "Well, I suppose the police have retrieved fingerprints and will know his identity soon enough, if they don't already have it. The man was William Duffy, a freelance reporter working on a story for my employer, Vainglory. Bill's initial idea was to do a story about surfers; however, he stumbled on something sinister, something he refused to discuss until he was certain of the facts. Even I don't know what he was working on."

  "That's why you were in the library?" Penny Sue asked, holding up her glass for a refill.

  "Yes, I wanted to see if I could discover what he found out. Whatever he was researching, I know he first encountered it at the library."

  The server arrived with two more glasses of wine. I told her to give them both to Penny Sue. I had to drive, and if Penny Sue got smashed, she might at least stop batting her damned eyelashes. "Did you notice anything?"

  Leonard shook his head. "You were the most unexpected event."

  Penny Sue grinned so wide her gums showed. She clearly thought he was referring to her. I figured Leonard meant my sneaking up on him.

  "Surfing? What's the big deal about surfing in New Smyrna Beach, besides the fact that the best waves are in Shark Shoals, which explains why New Smyrna is sometimes called the Shark Bite Capital of the World? Of course, that's all based on the number of bites. The national news never explains that most injuries are mere scratches from a surfer putting his foot in the mouth of a shark going after small bait fish," I said, pointedly ignoring Penny Sue and her smug grin.

 

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