by Mary Clay
"You're right," Penny Sue said. "Someone has been feeding information to Woody. Remember when Woody came over for the first interview with Kevin? He already knew Kevin and Abby had been engaged. How did he know? Who told him that? Their old college friend, Willows."
"And, did you notice the look on Officer Miller's face when they found the brown container?" Ruthie added. "He looked as if it was exactly what he was after. Miller didn't even examine it closely."
Kevin's face lit up like a light bulb. "The liquor! Abby took a swig of Jack Black, and I gave her some of my breath strips. Willows was there. I'll bet he insinuated that I gave her nicotine strips. That's why they believe I killed her!"
"You're right," Ruthie said. "But I know they were breath strips, because you gave me one earlier."
Alice wiped her lips and raised her empty glass. Penny Sue gave her aunt a hateful look, but took the glass and refilled it. Alice nodded a thank you, took a swallow, and thought for a moment. "My gut says you're right about Willows. Now, why would he want to kill Abby?"
"To eliminate her as a candidate for the chairmanship and to frame Kevin. Money, power, and prestige," Ruthie said.
Alice leaned back in the throne and laced her fingers around her glass. The muscles in her jaw were twitching. "Not enough. If this were Atlantic City, I'd say it was a possibility." She shook her head so hard her curly, gray hair blossomed out like a poodle's. I stifled a grin. "No," she continued, "there must be more at stake than the chairmanship."
"Abby was the person who suggested dinner in the email," Ruthie said. "Maybe Abby was snide to Willows over dinner, like she was to Kevin. We all saw her argue with Willows at the library."
Alice blew off the argument with a flick of her wrist. "Still not enough. When's that weird computer guy coming home from the West Coast? I believe the answer is in the encrypted folder."
"Mom," Kevin objected, "that could be something as simple as Abby's tax returns."
"Or, maybe not." Alice was not one to give in.
"I have Carl's cell phone number. I'll give him a call." I went to the guestroom, and Carl picked up on the fifth ring. "Are you in a meeting?"
"No, I'm headed home on the corporate jet."
"When will you arrive?"
"I'll get into Daytona Beach at about ten o'clock tonight. I'll call you when I land. Got to go--have to turn my phone off now." The line went dead.
I've never been able to sleep on airplanes, so there was a good chance that Carl would be too tired to do anything until the next morning, at the earliest. I hated to even ask for such a favor, but Alice was not one I wanted to trifle with. I went to the kitchen and refilled my wine glass for courage before I delivered the news. Penny Sue saw me and signaled me to bring the whole bottle, which I did. As they poured wine for themselves, I delivered the news that Carl wouldn't return until late and probably would be too worn out to work on the computer until the next day. He was already on the plane, and I didn't have time to tell him why I was calling, but I felt certain he could decode the message.
Alice graced us with a slight nod.
"Okay, now for the attempted robberies. What were they after? And how are Cobb and Marzano involved with Willows, if he is the culprit?" I asked.
"Woody should be able to tell us that," Penny Sue replied. "He has them in custody and is probably questioning them now. Besides, he has the green Volvo. A Volvo like the one seen driving on the beach after the first break-in attempt, so he surely knows who owns it by now. Leigh, give Woody a call. You have better luck with him than I do."
I stared at my fingernails and bit my lip. I was not anxious to speak to Woody, because I was afraid he'd confront me about my shooting Cobb with the taser. I knew he wouldn't suspect Ruthie; she was far too timid for that maneuver. I glanced up and locked eyes with Alice. It was a scary sight. Well, I'd have to face one of them. Woody or Alice? I chose Woody.
"I'll call from the bedroom," I said, as I paged through my cell for Woody's number. My call went to his voicemail, and I left a message. Then I tried his office number and got his assistant. She said he was questioning suspects, and there was no telling when he'd be available. I asked her to have him call me when he got a chance. She said she would. I supposed the suspects were Stuart Cobb and Andy Marzano. Then I thought of Leonard Kydd, and wondered if he'd given copies of the photos he'd taken of Susan's car to Woody. I found his cell phone number and dialed. He answered on the first ring.
"Yes, Leigh," he said, sounding weary.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I wanted to thank you for your help last night."
"On the contrary, I should be thanking you. I believe we have Duffy's killers, so I can rest in peace." He paused a moment, then quickly added. "Not literally, of course. I didn't mean for all time."
I chuckled. "I know what you meant. The reason I'm calling--did you give copies of your photos of Susan Marzano's car to Woody?"
"Yes, I downloaded the pictures to my computer and put them on a flash drive for him last night. I delivered it first thing this morning. I also emailed the pictures to my office in New York for safekeeping. If the Marzanos are as influential as you say, I'm not taking any chances."
"Very smart. I wouldn't have thought of doing that."
"It's fairly standard in the news business. Everything must be backed up. After last night, I slept most of the day once I delivered the pictures. I'll probably stay for another day or two to tie up the loose ends on Duffy's autopsy and the drug ring. I hope we can get together before I leave."
"To be sure. You must come over for a congratulatory toast. We couldn't have gotten this far without your help. We hope last night's sting will clear Kevin of Abby's murder."
"You think those punks killed her?" Leonard asked.
"No, but we suspect they know who did and hope they'll spill the beans when questioned."
"Well, if I can assist, don't hesitate to ask. I'd say 'cheers,' but I'm not feeling particularly cheery right now. You know, Duffy and all. He was a fine reporter and a good friend."
"I understand. Please keep me posted on anything you find out, and I'll do the same."
"Absolutely. Best to all."
I sat on the end of the bed and thought about the sad tone in Leonard's voice. All this time I'd focused on drugs and books, but he'd lost a valued friend and colleague. Why didn't I see that? The man was in mourning. I took a deep breath and shook off my feeling of sadness. I had to go face Alice.
"Woody's tied up questioning suspects," I announced to the group in as light a tone as I could manage. "I left a message for him to call me." I snatched my wine and took a self-medicating sip. "I also called Leonard Kydd, the editor for Vainglory. He took a flash drive of the pictures he snapped of Susan's car to Woody this morning. So there's concrete proof she's involved."
Penny Sue piped up. "Well, you and Kydd saw her drive up to the book drop, right?"
Oh Lord, I hadn't thought of that. I might be a witness in another drug deal involving one of the most prestigious local families. Sweat started to bead on my forehead. "Yes, we did."
Penny Sue did an air karate chop. "Case closed. She and her son are headed to the slammer."
"Please don't say that," I pleaded. "I like New Smyrna Beach and would hate to move."
Alice gave me a big eye roll. "Don't be silly--you won't have to move. If they're as influential as you think they are, they'll work a deal, especially if the father is a criminal attorney. Now, the other guy with the pigtail may be in deep shit, but I'll lay money that mom skates and junior does minimal time, if any. If the deal includes the break-ins and how they knew about the books in the first place, junior may get off scot-free. The books are the key to Abby's murder."
"Well, they were after the books, and maybe Abby's computer," Penny Sue said. "You could see that from the video. Something in those boxes was valuable enough to attempt a break-in two nights in a row." Penny Sue glanced at the stack of boxes next to the credenza in her dining area. The books shi
pped down from Abby's apartment were still in their original cartons.
"Stuart Cobb went to Deland University, and Willows knew the books were at my place," I said. "He probably found that out from Woody while he was snitching on Kevin. If Cobb and Andy Marzano didn't want them for themselves, they were probably sent by Willows. It would be interesting to find out if they were Willows' students. Maybe Willows knew about Cobb's criminal past and hired them to steal Abby's research."
Alice gave Kevin a stern look. "Have you finished the inventory yet?"
His face went red. "No, ma'am."
"I know you've been reading the stuff on Abby's computer, but my gut says there's something in the books and encrypted file. We can't do anything about the file now, since the alien won't be home until late tonight. But you can damned sure finish the book inventory."
Kevin took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. "Yes, we're close to finishing, anyway."
"Then get to work," Alice said. "I'm going to bed.
Kevin divided the boxes into three groups--the ones already inventoried and two sections of corrugated cartons that needed attention. After we thoroughly washed our hands at Kevin's insistence, we broke into two teams. Penny Sue and I formed one team while Kevin and Ruthie made up the other.
Penny Sue and Ruthie listed the books that Kevin and I carefully unpacked. Many of the books were fairly new, but a few were so old the paper had turned brown and crumbled to the touch. We'd worked for about an hour, when Kevin suddenly stopped to examine a faded green book entitled The History of Enterprise and Orange County, Florida.
"I think this book is a duplicate." He turned to Ruthie. "Didn't we already inventory this book in another box?"
Ruthie crawled to the boxes they'd finished. In a few seconds she found the carton and the book. "Here it is. It was in one of the boxes taken from Abby's condo down here." She held it out to Kevin, but I snatched it first.
"Wait, I know that book! It's the one Abby bought from the book sale room at the library. I remember it because I thought it might be part of our rare book collection that ended up in the sale room by mistake."
Kevin took the book from me and compared the two copies. He checked the copyright pages, but given their age, it was nothing more than the name and address of a printer in England. "Why would Abby buy a book that she already owned?" he asked.
"Well, she only paid five dollars for it," I said. "Considering its age, she certainly knew she could sell it to another scholar for a nice profit."
My cell phone rang at that moment. It was Carl calling from Daytona Beach. He had his computer with him. Did we want him to swing by the condo on his way home? I briefly told him about the problem with the encrypted file. He responded, "Piece of cake."
"Yes, if you're not too tired, please come to Penny Sue's condo."
"I'll probably be there at about eleven o'clock. This way I can sleep tomorrow."
"That's terrific. We'll be here."
I quickly relayed our conversation to the group.
"Should we wake your mother up?" Ruthie asked Kevin. "You know how she hates to be left out."
Kevin shook his head vigorously. "No. If Carl can decrypt the file we'll wake her up; otherwise, she'll just be in the way. I love my mother, but she can be a pill."
No one said anything, because we all agreed.
As Penny Sue and I returned to our inventory, Kevin was intrigued by the two identical books. "You know, for all of my research, I don't recall ever encountering this book. There isn't even a date. And to think Abby had two copies." He stopped, suddenly, on the third page of the library-bought version. There, in black letters, was a stamp--Property of Stanley Willows. The blood drained from Kevin's face. "That's why Abby bought the book! It used to belong to Willows. But why would he donate such a rare book to the library?"
"Tax deduction?" Penny Sue offered.
"No scholar would give away a book this old that involved their own field," Kevin countered.
"Wait," Ruthie said loudly. "When Willows came over the other day and asked to look through Abby's books, he told me he'd recently moved to an oceanfront condo in New Smyrna Beach. He said there were so many desperate people who'd bought condos to flip, that ended up flopping, that he got a great deal. Maybe, in the course of the move, this book got mixed up with others he intended to donate to the library. Once he realized it was missing, he was desperate to find it."
"Why would he be so desperate?" I asked.
"Because it was rare and valuable?" Ruthie suggested.
"Abby also had a copy, so it can't be that rare," Kevin said. "At least not rare enough to kill someone."
"Well, what else could it be?' Penny Sue asked.
"I don't know, but I think we should complete the inventory," Kevin said. "For once, I believe Mom's right. The answer lies in the encrypted file."
"Well, we have an hour before we find out what it says."
Chapter 19
We finished the inventory and were sitting in the great room, waiting for Carl. The Weather Channel played in the background, but no one paid attention. We were all thinking about the duplicate books and their possible implication.
A little after eleven, there was a soft knock on the door. Kevin ran to let Carl in. Ah, youth! Carl looked fresh as a daisy, and we all looked like we'd been ridden hard and put up wet.
Despite his appearance, Carl was obviously tired and not into wasting time. "Where's the computer?" he asked. His own super-duper laptop and a few cables were stuffed under his arm. Kevin led him to the great room and pointed to the laptop computer on the coffee table.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Ruthie asked.
"A Pepsi would be great if you have one, but anything with caffeine will do. It's been a long day."
Before Ruthie returned with the drink, Carl had hooked his computer into Abby's and was scanning the file. Honestly, the guy was a genius. He took one sip of the soda and decoded the file. "I figured it was one of the standard algorithms. I've saved the decrypted folder on the hard drive as Folder Two." He took another swallow of Pepsi. "I'll leave it to you to review the files and figure out what they mean. I'm tired and need to go home."
"Carl," I said, following him out, "we're so grateful."
"No big deal. This is child's play."
Child's play! I knew I needed to hire a ten-year-old to teach me about the new technology.
Carl left, and we all stood around looking at the computer and the book with Willows' name in it. Thankfully, Penny Sue said what we were thinking. "I'm too tired to mess with this. Let's get together early tomorrow, say eight, and review it. Everyone nodded, though I noticed Kevin's eyes were glued to the computer.
When Ruthie, Penny Sue, and I arrived the next morning, Alice was in her velour robe and Kevin had already read the decrypted files. He'd apparently stayed up all night. Of course, he had the most to lose.
We brought a pot of coffee and tray of freshly baked sweet rolls with us--Ruthie's idea. As we served up the food, Kevin explained his findings.
"The major file was Willows' dissertation. The other files in the folder compared his work to The History of Enterprise and Orange County, Florida. I'll skip through a lot, but Willows plagiarized his dissertation. I remember now that Abby critiqued a draft of Willows' dissertation and apparently recognized some of his passages, after she found the old book in New Jersey. I discovered a letter in the folder to a boyfriend or colleague at Yale. Abby said she planned to meet Willows for dinner and confront him about the plagiarism. Knowing Abby, I suspect she threatened to expose Willows to force him to drop out of the chairmanship competition. He was really the strongest candidate, considering he'd already worked there. I'm speculating, but that's probably the reason for the argument she had with Willows at the library. She had his copy of the book with her, because it came out of the box that was returned by Woody." Kevin ran his hand across the stubble on his chin. "I know from experience that Abby would stop at nothing to get what she
wanted.
"She also kept a diary on the computer, and there was an entry after she discovered Willows' book at the library. She wrote that it proved her theory and guaranteed that Willows would drop out of the competition. She also planned to blackmail Willows into raising questions about my credentials."
"So, Willows plagiarized his dissertation. Big deal," Penny Sue said.
Kevin gazed at her like she'd lost her mind. "Penny Sue, plagiarism would not only disqualify his dissertation, but his Ph.D. would have been rescinded! No Ph.D., no job, tenure, or chance for the chairmanship. Don't you see--the book with Willows' name was concrete proof that he cheated, and his career would be ruined."
"Oh."
As Kevin spoke, Ruthie paged through Willows' copy of the book. Suddenly she gasped, staring at the inside of the back cover. "Oh my God, look at this!" She pointed to a square patch, like a nicotine patch, that was riddled with pinpricks."
"Don't touch it," Penny Sue screamed. "There may be fingerprints."
"Right," Alice chimed in. "Remember the drawing of the marks on Abby's body? There was a square on her upper arm filled with dots. It said something about irregular concentrations of nicotine." She slapped her knee. "Darn, I wish we'd thought to make a copy of that report."
"I wonder if the pinpricks could have caused the irregular concentrations," Penny Sue mused. "Does anyone know a pharmacist?"
"I do, at Publix." I called my friend Beth, and asked her if pinpricks could compromise a nicotine patch.
"Are you kidding? Of course it would. Transdermal patches have a complex matrix designed to release the medicine in a constant dosage over time. Disrupt the matrix--like with pinpricks or cutting a patch in half--and the medicine would be delivered unevenly. Messing with a nicotine patch could easily cause too little or too much nicotine to get in a person's system."
"Could a big dose of nicotine cause a heart attack?" I asked.
"Absolutely. Leigh, you aren't trying to quit smoking, are you?"