A Palette for Murder

by Sybil Johnson

  The band started playing, filling the room with music so loud people had to shout in order to be heard above it. Rory watched her date approach the table and buy the four women a round of drinks. Envy clutched at her belly when he leaned close to each of them and talked. She told herself she shouldn’t be so possessive. After all, they barely knew each other. They’d been on too few dates for her to be jealous. Besides, she was the one who wanted the information. And the music was so loud he had to lean close to the women in order to be understood. But no matter how she reasoned with herself, she still felt a twinge of jealousy.

  A long half hour later, Tripp returned to their table and sat down. “That was interesting and a little frightening.”

  Liz leaned forward. “What did they say?”

  “Amazing what people will tell you when they’ve had too much to drink. He was here on Monday all right. Drowning his sorrows in whiskey.”

  “Who did he talk to?” Rory asked.

  “They didn’t see him with anyone in particular. He sat over in that corner of the bar.” Tripp indicated a table in the back near the restrooms. “Guess he was so drunk, he was talking to himself. One of the girls approached him to make sure he was okay, but he waved her away.”

  “Did she hear anything he said?”

  “She said he mumbled ‘have to get it before they find it’ or something like that. Could have been talking about the camera, I suppose. They also said he went outside for a while, then came back. No one knew what he did out there.”

  “What about the teens? Did they say anything about them?” Liz asked.

  “They remembered seeing a girl outside the front entrance, panhandling when they went inside. She wasn’t there when they left.”

  “Too bad no one followed him outside,” Liz said. “Maybe he was in here figuring out what to do about the camera, remembered the kids and hatched his plan.”

  “Too bad we can’t prove it,” Rory said. “There might be security cameras in the area. Did any of you notice any when you came in?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Tripp stood up. “Now I’m curious. I’ll go check. Be right back.”

  He shouldered his way through the crowd to the front entrance, returning less than five minutes later. “Didn’t see any, but it was kind of dark.”

  “Did you check the alley?” Rory asked.

  “Nothing at either entrance.”

  “That’s that, then,” Doug said.

  “Maybe not. There was an article recently on Vista Beach Confidential about some people downtown complaining about all the private security cameras in the area. A woman said one was even pointed right at her apartment, one of those that’s above a business. I don’t remember the exact area or the name of the business. Maybe it’s around here. We could read the article and find out.” Liz reached her hand into her purse, but it came out empty-handed. “Oh, right, no phones.”

  “It can wait. You can look it up later.” Doug patted her hand.

  As they listened to the band, all Rory could think about was the article Liz had mentioned. She itched to know the details. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she excused herself and made her way through the crowd toward the restroom. She glanced behind her to make sure no one at her table was watching and took a detour to the bar where she found the waitress Doug had given the box to.

  “Where did you put the box of phones from our table?” she whispered to the woman.

  “I’m not supposed to give you your phone unless you’re leaving,” she said, an amused expression on her face.

  “Please, I just want to check something.”

  “So you’re leaving then?”

  Rory bobbed her head up and down. “That’s right. I’m leaving.”

  The waitress walked around the end of the bar and reached under the counter. She held the box out to Rory. “Here you go. If asked, I’ll deny everything.”

  Rory looked inside the box, finding only three cell phones inside, none of them hers. “It’s not here.” Panic welled up inside her. “Mine’s not here. Are you sure this is the right box?”

  The waitress looked at the writing on the side. “It’s the only one anyone’s given me, and it has Doug written on it. That’s the name of the guy at your table, right? Maybe your phone fell out when I put the box under the counter.”

  The bartender placed some drinks on the tray on the bar.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure it’s around somewhere. I’ll look for it after I deliver this order.” She put the box back under the counter and headed to the other side of the room.

  Rory fretted about her missing phone as she stood in line for the restroom. When she passed by the bar on her way back to the table, the waitress stopped her. “I found it. It must have fallen out of the box.” She surreptitiously handed Rory the phone. After making sure no one was watching her, Rory stepped to the side and looked up the article on VBC. As soon as she read it, she put her cell back in the box and headed back to her friends.

  Rory wrote something on a napkin and handed it to Liz under the table.

  “That’s disappointing,” Liz whispered. “Nowhere near here, huh? You know, the police department has a voluntary program where people register their cameras. You must have heard about it. If a crime happens, the police know where they might get information.”

  “What about the guy you sold that house to in the department? Can he tell you anything?”

  “Maybe. I’ll ask him about the cameras tomorrow. There might be some around here.”

  Rory took the napkin from Liz and crumpled it up. She hoped they would find a camera nearby that could show them for sure who had hired the two kids. That might bring them a little closer to discovering Willow’s murderer and clearing Dawn’s name.

  Chapter 23

  A brown blur raced out the front door onto the lawn, then made a sudden left and disappeared into the bushes next door.

  “Sekhmet!” Rory called after the escaping cat, hoping for an answering meow, but all she heard was the twittering of a bird in a nearby tree.

  “Teach me to leave the door open,” she mumbled to herself as she stepped out onto the front porch, being sure to close the door behind her. The Monday morning sun shone down on her as she walked toward the cat’s former home. She called out the Abyssinian’s name and looked under every bush she passed by.

  Rory had barely reached the edge of Willow’s property when a police car pulled into the driveway. Chief Marshall emerged from the driver’s side, looking as tired and worn out as she had ever seen him. He hitched his pants over his noticeably smaller paunch and began taking down the yellow crime scene tape.

  He was halfway across the lawn when he faltered and put a hand to his head. He recovered and took a step forward, then the tape slipped out of his hands and he crumpled to the ground.

  Rory raced forward and knelt down on the grass beside him. “Chief, are you okay?”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her, confusion written all over his face. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “You fainted. You’re on the lawn in front of Willow’s house—your house. Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” He struggled and finally managed to sit up. As if suddenly aware of his surroundings, he said, “Help me up. I don’t want anyone to see me this way.”

  Rory helped him to his feet. When he was standing once again, he shook off her hand. “Thank you.”

  She stood uncertainly by his side. He looked so pale she was afraid he was going to faint again. “I think I should call someone.” She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans.

  “No!” the chief bellowed, then seemed to realize how loud his voice had become. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. Go home. I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you being by yourself right now.”

 
“I said I’ll be fine!” When he bent down to pick up the end of the crime scene tape, he staggered as if dizzy.

  Rory crossed her arms in front of her chest. “No, you’re not. You need to rest. Let me help you into the house.”

  “Okay, if it’ll make you go away.” The chief leaned on her as they walked up the path to the front door. When he fumbled with the keys, she took them out of his hands and unlocked the door. As soon as he was resting on the sofa, she walked to the kitchen in the back of the house to get him some water. The place smelled clean. She glanced down at the wood floor, happy to see blood no longer decorated its surface. She dialed Detective Green’s number and explained the situation to him.

  After getting an “I’ll be right there” from him, she returned to the living room.

  “Here. Drink this.”

  Rory handed the chief a glass of water and sat down on a chair facing him.

  He took a sip and eyed her. “What were you doing here anyway?”

  “Looking for Sekhmet. She raced out the door of my house. I figured she came back here. What about you? Can’t one of your officers take down the tape? Doesn’t seem like a job for the chief of police.”

  “I’m going to put Willow’s things in storage. I wanted to get an idea of how much there was.”

  “I thought you came over all the time,” Rory blurted out. “At least that’s what I heard.”

  “From who? That busybody next door?” He jerked his head toward Mrs. Griswold’s house. “Does everyone think I was in a romantic relationship with Willow?”

  “Wouldn’t blame you if you were.”

  A knock on the front door cut off any further conversation. Rory answered it and let Detective Green inside. “I’ll let you two talk.”

  She went into the adjoining room, shutting the door behind her, and leaned against the door and listened.

  “What’s going on, Chief?”

  “I told her not to call anyone. I should have known I couldn’t trust her.”

  “You collapsed outside. Of course she’s going to call someone. Any decent person would. You need to take some time off.” The exasperation was evident in the detective’s voice.

  “Martin, I’m the chief of police. I can’t be seen as weak.”

  “It’s cancer, for God’s sake. People will understand if you take some time off.”

  “I told you before, I don’t want anyone to know. Especially the citizens of this city. They need to believe their police chief is able to protect them.”

  “At least take better care of yourself. Slow down a little.”

  “I’m doing everything my doctor says. That herbal remedy Willow gave me has helped a lot. It’s looking much better for me. I’m just a little tired right now.”

  So that’s why the chief came over to the house so often, Rory thought. Willow was seeing him there so no one would know he was sick.

  As she listened to the rest of the conversation, her gaze rested on a stack of opened mail on a nearby table. She rifled through it, pausing when she came to an envelope from a local bank. She dropped the rest of the mail back on the table, then glanced toward the closed door before opening the envelope and looking over the bank statement. The checking account had a large balance, but none of the deposits listed were big enough to suggest blackmail payments.

  The door between the living room and dining room swung open, almost hitting her in the face.

  Rory put her hand behind her back so Detective Green couldn’t see the letter she was holding.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ve got it from here. You can go home now.”

  She nodded and, as soon as his back was turned, dropped the envelope back on the top of the stack of mail.

  When Rory got back to her house, she spotted an unfamiliar man dressed in a suit coming down her front steps. As soon as he saw her, he stopped at the bottom and waited.

  “Can I help you?” she said as she walked across the grass toward him.

  “Is Teresa here?” he asked. “I’m Trent, her husband.”

  “She’s with a client, but I expect she’ll be back soon. Would you like to come inside and wait for her?” Rory opened the door and pointed him toward the couch in the living room. After getting a glass of water for her guest, she sat down in the chair facing him.

  Trent took a sip and set the glass down on the coffee table. “Thank you for letting my wife stay here.”

  Rory nodded and waited for him to continue.

  “I don’t know how much she’s told you about our…disagreement, but I want her to come back home. The kids miss her. I miss her.” He fiddled with his glass, turning it around on the coaster.

  “She’ll be glad to hear that.”

  He looked up at Rory, relief in his eyes. “Will she?”

  “Have you talked to her recently?”

  “A few phone calls, none of them pleasant. She’s been stopping by the house every night, parking on the street and sitting in her car. I thought she would come in, but she never made a move to walk up the path or knock on the door. I was so mad at her I let her sit there.”

  “You’re sure it was her?”

  “Positive.”

  “And she’s been doing this for how long?”

  “Every night for the past two weeks. Comes by around nine thirty, leaves at midnight when the lights go out.”

  Rory made some mental calculations. That meant Teresa had a potential alibi for the night Willow died. “That includes the Friday before last, right? You’re sure?”

  “That’s right. Why are you interested in that day?”

  “No particular reason.”

  Trent eyed her curiously, then glanced at his watch. “I can’t wait any longer. Would you let her know I stopped by? Maybe I could leave a note?”

  After he’d written the note, Rory placed it on the bed in the guest bedroom where Teresa would be sure to see it.

  With Liz by her side, Rory jogged north along the path reserved for walkers and joggers that paralleled the ocean, taking one step for every two the much shorter woman took. On the bike path below them, a pack of helmeted bikers raced by going in the opposite direction.

  Liz led the way around a mother pushing a stroller, returning to the right side of the cement path before they encountered a group of midday joggers coming toward them. “So Lance was wrong. Chief M wasn’t having an affair with Willow after all.”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Lance had nothing to worry about, at least from the chief.”

  “Do you think he’s going to be okay? I can’t imagine the city without him.”

  “The chief? I don’t know. He says he feels better after the treatments Willow was giving him, but he hasn’t given up on chemo. Who knows which is helping more.” Rory stopped on the right side of the path, bent at the waist and put her hands on her knees. “I’m tired. Why are you making me do this again?”

  Liz jogged in place next to her friend. “I’ve been eating too many of Teresa’s goodies. I’m getting fluffy. Got to get rid of a little weight. At least it’s not hot anymore.”

  Rory straightened up and started walking. “And you’re dragging me along because…?”

  “You’ve been eating them too.”

  “We could just stop eating the cookies. Seems like a much easier solution.”

  “Like that’s going to happen. They’re too good.”

  “We may not have to worry about them for too much longer. Trent stopped by the house. He wants to see if he can work things out with Teresa. He told me she was sitting in her car outside their house at the time Willow was killed.”

  “You actually asked him for her alibi?” Liz stared open-mouthed at her friend.

  “Nothing as direct as that. I didn’t tell him I was asking for an alibi. He volunteered that she’s been sitting outside their house every eve
ning for the past two weeks. I made sure he confirmed that included the night Willow died.”

  “I’m glad to hear she has an alibi. I really love those cookies. When’s she moving back home?”

  “She’s not…yet. She’s letting him stew a while. At least that’s what she told me.”

  “I hope they work it out. Race you to the McMansion at the next street. Loser buys lunch.” The words were barely out of her mouth before Liz took off down the path. When she crossed the imaginary finish line, she raised her arms above her head in triumph. She walked back and forth to cool down until Rory reached her.

  “Okay, Flash, you win. Where are we going to eat?”

  Liz pointed to a cafe at the top of the hill.

  Rory sniffed her t-shirt.

  “Do you think we’re presentable enough for a sit-down restaurant?”

  “A lot of bikers stop there. They have to smell worse than we do. The place has an outdoor seating area.” Liz shielded her eyes from the summer sun and looked up at the restaurant. “I see a couple of them on the patio right now. Come on!” She sprinted up the hill as if she had just started exercising.

  Holding her side, Rory followed at a walking pace. By the time she got to the cafe, Liz was sitting at a table on the patio studying a menu.

  “Took you long enough. I’m having the roasted veggie quesadilla. After all that exercise, I’m starving.”

  Rory plopped down in the chair opposite her friend and studied the chalkboard that listed the lunch specials. “It’s the avocado burger for me.”

  After they ordered, Liz said, “I checked with my contact at the police station. No cameras near the bar. At least none registered with the city. I guess we’ll never have confirmation Lance was the one who hired those two kids to get the camera card. Of course, the murder and the camera don’t have to be related.”

  Rory took a sip of her diet Coke. “What do you mean?”

  “Lance could have planted the camera to try to catch Wispy Willow having an affair and not wanted the police to find it. It would make him look guilty. You said you saw him looking at that shelf right after Willow died. He was probably looking for it then and you interrupted him.”