“Did anyone else see anything?”
Darren shook his head. “I don’t remember seeing anyone else. The ride was winding down at that point, with just a few stragglers. I don’t even know how someone got a car past all the barricades. But I definitely don’t remember anyone else around.”
Darn. “Did you happen to see the make and model of the car? Did you see what color it was? Or can you describe who was driving?” I asked.
His sigh was ragged as he ran a hand through his thick reddish-brown hair. “Crown Vic, for sure, black, but the windows were tinted. Looked like an old police car, but I couldn’t see much more than that. How about you, Jones?”
“Same,” his friend said. “Do you know the guy on the bike?”
“He was a friend of a friend,” I replied. In the interest of keeping things simple and avoiding any misinformation getting out, I figured I’d better be careful.
“Was?” Darren said, his voice wavering ever so slightly.
Higgs spoke up then, removing his warm hands from my shoulders. “Unfortunately, I’m sorry to report, he died.”
Abel’s face showed genuine remorse. “Aw, man! I’m really sorry. I swear to you guys, he looked fine when he got up and took off. Otherwise, we’d have called the police. Shoot. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Do you think you’d mind speaking to the police?” I asked hopefully. “I’m sure this information would be helpful. Can I put them in touch with you?”
Darren bobbed his head. “Sure-sure. We’ll help however we can. We didn’t see much, but I guess it’s better safe than sorry.”
“Thanks, guys. Appreciate the help. Stop by the shop if you’re ever interested in getting a tattoo. I’ll give you a discount for being so helpful.”
I took their information to forward to Tansy while Higgs looked down at his phone with an odd expression.
As we weaved our way back to the sidewalk with Jeff in tow, I frowned. “Everything okay?”
He held up his phone. “Tansy sent me this about an hour ago. Must have missed it while we were chatting up your friend Ben. Read. It’s the results of the preliminary coroner’s report.”
I scanned the text from Tansy and gasped.
“Agnar Stigsson’s official cause of death: Rare, unidentified toxin introduced through the bloodstream.”
Chapter 10
We’d dropped Jeff off at Higgs’s apartment, all the while, my wheels turning. As we entered the hotel where the group was staying, I was still a bit shocked.
“So basically, that means someone poisoned him?” It certainly explained why there were no marks on his body, none visible to us anyway. The bike had taken most of the impact.
Or maybe we hadn’t seen any marks because of the position he’d been lying in on the ground. Maybe the side that had taken the hit was the side we couldn’t see?
Higgs stopped in the middle of the swanky marble and gold lobby and shrugged. “It could mean any number of things. But you read it yourself, that’s all Tansy’s giving me, and she only told me because that’s what she’s releasing to the press. She just gave it to us a little earlier than the news outlets. If she knows what the toxin is, she’s not telling me.”
“And there’s definitely foul play because they’d already labeled his death a murder last night. The police knew something was wrong then. So I call she poisoned him. Oh!” I said excitedly. “Bet she put it in his water bottle! Did you see it on the sidewalk? They collected it for evidence.”
“I’m sure they’ll test the water bottle, but it’s obviously not something common like arsenic because Tansy called it a rare toxin. And you’ve already determined Suzanne killed him? Jump the gun much, Sister Trixie?”
I sighed. “Okay, that’s fair, but it’s what makes the most sense.”
“Or you’re making an assumption based on emotions,” Higgs reminded me as we waited for the group to come downstairs.
I gave him some good old-fashioned side eye with a hand planted on my hip. “Whose side are you on, Higgs?”
“The victim’s. You’re Knuckles’s friend and Suzanne did him wrong way back when. Stands to reason you’d lose objectivity because you don’t like her.”
Then I had to try harder to remain objective. I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of sending this woman back from whence she came. “You’re right. I’ll work harder.”
“Keep that in mind, because here they come.”
Suzanne had given us permission to talk to her friends as a way to help her, but it wasn’t looking good for her after what we’d learned this morning. I wasn’t even sure where to begin. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder, if Suzanne had anything to do with Agnar’s death, why would she give us free reign to speak to her closest friends about her and her marriage?
Higgs leaned down toward my ear as the group crossed the threshold of the lobby, looking tired but very stylish in their clothes. “You know, we never talked about the rules of this pseudo investigation.”
“It’s not pseudo. It’s really happening.” I was being facetious and I knew it, but I had a feeling Higgs’s rules were going to cramp my style.
He cocked a raven eyebrow at me. “Okay, our unofficial investigation then. We haven’t talked about the rules.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what, ex-undercover cop, we’ll have a nice chat about them after we talk to Suzanne’s friends, okay?”
“Good enough for me. Because I have them, you know. Some rules.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” I said on a chuckle. I got the impression Higgs had always played by the rules until he was forced to make some of his own.
If getting his help meant following the guidelines he set forth, it was fine by me. Er, mostly. I mean, how do I know? I’ve only done this once, and I failed most of the way until I got lucky.
This was all new to me. I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep because I didn’t yet know how far I was willing to go to catch a killer.
“Everyone looks so much different with their clothes on, don’t you think?” he asked with a saucy grin.
Rolling my eyes, I walked toward the group of Suzanne and Agnar’s friends, their eyes weary, their body language telling me it had been a long night. I stuck my hand out to Edwin Garvey—the letch who’d put his number in Coop’s phone.
As he approached and took my hand in his, I had to admire how well preserved he was, too. He was easily in his late forties, maybe even closer to fifty, but he looked healthy and fit, and the clothes he wore showed he was fashion forward.
Lucinda was the second to reach me, her prettily made-up eyes filled with tears. “We just saw the news! I don’t understand what a rare toxin means? None of this makes any sense!”
I reached out for her hand, too, and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Lucinda. I don’t know any more about the specifics than you do at this point.”
Edwin sighed, bringing my attention squarely to him. “Edwin Garvey, correct?”
He smiled that handsome smile, his beautifully sculpted face tan and lean. “Friend of the very luscious Coop, correct?”
I swear, it was all I could do not to give him a good dressing down for being so obvious and bold about his interest in Coop. I wondered if his money allowed him this sort of behavior—as though he’d been granted a hall pass for debauchery because his bank account was fat.
Instead, I looked him dead in the eye with a blank expression. “It’s Trixie Lavender. I own the tattoo shop you were all going to visit last night before your friend was found dead.”
Myer Blackmoore let out a wheezing sigh, his eyes bleary. “I can’t believe Agnar’s gone. We’ve been friends forever. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”
My smile was warm with sympathy as I reached out and took his hand, which was cold and clammy. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Blackmoore. I’m sure Suzanne told you we’re here to try and help. Oh, and by the way, this is Cross Higglesworth, an ex-police officer. He was kind enough to agree to help me.”
C
ross shook hands with everyone and pointed to a round table and chairs in an atrium to the left of the lobby. “Shall we sit? You all look like you could stand to take a load off.”
Without waiting for an answer, he led everyone to an atrium filled with small groupings of carefully tended plants, where the sun poured into the glass ceiling and the atmosphere was bright and cheerful.
As we all settled, I noted Grady Hanson looked quite put out, judging by the frown on his face, while everyone else appeared at least open to helping us.
“First, as I said, I’m Trixie Lavender, and I’m so sorry for your loss. I know the police kept you until the wee hours of the morning—”
“Which begs the question, why did Suzanne ask you to talk to us, Miss Lavender?” Grady grumbled, placing a beefy hand on his round belly as he settled into his chair. “Why doesn’t she just let the police handle this?”
Lucinda Ferris was the first to reach over and swat Grady on the arm, the bracelets lining her wrist clinking and sparkling in the sunlight. “Hush, Grady. Suzanne already told you why she asked them to help. The more help the better. Didn’t you hear Suz? This man’s an ex-police officer, and the ex-nun caught a killer once. It’s like hiring a private detective without having to pay the bill. Stop being so negative and answer the woman’s questions so we can get this over with. I want to go back home, and we’ll never do that until the police clear us all. So please, ask away, Tipsy.”
I gritted my teeth and silently cursed Suzanne. “It’s Trixie, and I’m not here to give you grief, Mr. Hanson. Believe me when I tell you, I’m no expert when it comes to police matters and solving crimes. I’m just helping out a friend of a friend. How could I say no to a woman who just lost her husband so suddenly?”
Myer, his face so gaunt for someone who made food for a living, nodded vigorously. “She’s right, Grady,” he reprimanded, turning to look at me. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll help in any way I can, Miss Lavender, if for no other reason than to extend the courtesy to Donald, who I’m sure has his hands full with Suzanne. So please, ask me anything.”
Grady still grumbled, but he nodded his head along with everyone else, leaving me feeling less intrusive. Thus, I dove in, folding my hands in front of me.
“I’ll warn you, I might ask a question or two that offends you. But I’m not doing that to be cruel or to ruffle your feathers. I’m just hoping to understand what happened to Agnar. I’m hoping to see something the police haven’t. Is everyone all right with that?”
As everyone nodded once more, I watched their faces and, but for Grady, they all appeared concerned.
“So as you know by now, the police are labeling Agnar’s death a homicide by a rare toxin. Any thoughts on what exactly that might mean?”
Their blank stares told me they were either really good liars or they truly didn’t know.
Higgs cleared his throat. “Did you see him eat anything unusual? Take any medication? Perhaps a drug?”
“Agnar was a health nut. He didn’t take any kind of recreational drugs, and I didn’t see him eat anything but a kale and quinoa salad yesterday before we headed out for the naked bike ride,” Myer said, his eyes angry, but the anger wasn’t directed at Higgs. His expression said he was angry at the situation.
That out of the way, I decided to poke around their friendship with Agnar. “Let’s begin with how long you’ve known each other. Have you all been friends for very long?”
At that, Myer smiled, his eyes distant. “As I said, Agnar and I have been friends for a very long time, but it was only in the last two years we decided to begin this quest to bike around the world. You wouldn’t understand because you’re still so young, Miss Lavender, but there comes a time in your life when you can’t keep the weight off no matter what you do, especially in my line of work.” He clapped a hand to his middle, which didn’t have an extra ounce of flesh, by the by. “So I happened upon a cycling experience in Peru near Machu Picchu when I was there to judge a contest for up-and-coming chefs. I enjoyed it so much, I mentioned it to Agnar, and it sort of took off from there. Soon, we were traveling all over the world, attending cycling events—the more outrageous, the better—which is what led us to the World Naked Bike Ride. Our motto was you only live once,” he said on a melancholy laugh.
I dunno. I could live a million times over and still never want to ride a bike naked. I’d wondered last night about how comfortable they’d all been nude. Maybe it was the shock of finding their friend dead, but no one appeared terribly concerned. Though, I guess that’s what body positivity is all about.
“So you’ve all known each other for a long while then?” I wanted to know how well they knew not only Suzanne but each other.
I remember Stevie once telling me if a suspect is backed up against a wall, they’re likely to give up even their own mothers to keep from being caught. I wanted to see how tight their bond with Suzanne really was.
“Agnar and Suzanne have been married for almost a decade, so I’ve known her at least that long. Lucinda’s always been with Suzanne, traveling from set to set as her stylist and good friend. Edwin and Grady have both been around as long as I have.”
Everyone nodded again, assuring us the information Myer gave me was correct.
“I already know what you do for a living, Myer. Knuckles… Er, Donald filled me in. But what about you, Edwin?”
Edwin lifted his square chin and nodded his head. His face was somber, but his eyes twinkled as though mischief was on his mind. He rather reminded me of a younger George Hamilton—very tan, very good-looking, very charming, and not at all ashamed of his love of beautiful women, if the way his eye kept wandering to the young waitress in the adjacent bar was any indication.
“I am—Er, was Agnar’s business partner. As I’m sure you already know, Agnar was an art dealer. We dealt in rare and exotic paintings, sculptures, etcetera. You name it, if someone called and needed to sell, we were the people to do it. I was the mouthpiece; he was the one with the head for business. I love to travel, so I handled the dealing portion of the business. He was a homebody and didn’t like to be too far from Suzanne unless she could come with, so he handled clients and booked appointments. We rounded each other out rather well.”
Why didn’t I find it surprising that Edwin was the mouthpiece? “And how long have you been in business together?”
Edwin blew out a breath and paused as though he were mentally counting. “About thirteen years now.”
Higgs tapped his finger on the table as Edwin’s eyes began to stray to the group of women at the desk. He boldly eyed their backsides like the letch he was. “Do you know of anyone who might have taken issue with Mr. Stigsson? Any angry clients?”
Edwin brushed invisible lint from his crisp black button-down shirt. “We didn’t deal drugs, Mr. Higglesworth. We dealt in art. That means lots of rich people who want to own a Francis Bacon so they can show all their other rich friends all the things their money can buy. There aren’t a lot of angry rich people. Not angry enough to kill Agnar, certainly.”
Holding up my phone, I pointed to the story I’d found about Agnar. “So let me begin with this article I saw on Truth Seeker Confidential. Are you aware the magazine did a story about Agnar last week? They claim he went to see a divorce attorney.”
Lucinda’s eyes instantly clouded over as she toyed with her statement necklace, a large hoop full of colorful balls. “I’m aware of it. Suzanne showed me.”
I sat up straight and leaned forward. “So she knew he’d gone to see a divorce attorney? Was their marriage truly in trouble the way the article alleges?”
Myer’s thin shoulders, encased in a gorgeous tweed blazer, slumped. Frankly, he looked miserable, and I felt horrible for him. “Agnar was dreadfully unhappy. He wouldn’t say why, but he did tell me things had gone awry.”
Higgs ran a hand over his chin and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes sharp as tacks as he scanned their faces. “Did he say what happened or why they were unhappy? D
o you know the root of his discontent, Mr. Blackmoore? Or any of you, for that matter?”
Myer’s face went dark and distant, his chocolate-brown eyes watering. “He didn’t talk much about it. Agnar was a private man, even with me, and we’ve been friends for years. I only know he was unhappy. Yet, if he saw a divorce attorney, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Out of nowhere, Lucinda dropped her palms on the table with a slap, making us all look up. Her hair, like glass it was so smooth, swung forward, grazing her chin as she rose to her feet. “Stop, Myer. Just stop!” she hissed. “You know as well as I do, Suzanne’s a no-good, lying cheat!”
Higgs and I looked at one another, and I wondered if he was wondering the same thing I’d been.
Was Suzanne too blind to see even her own friends thought she was a snake?
Chapter 11
Edwin instantly reached over and soothed Lucinda with a bronzed hand to her arm. “Loose, take it easy, honey.”
Was he saying that to shut her up or because he was concerned she looked as though she might have a seizure?
But she yanked her arm away from him and shook her head with a furious motion. “I will not take it easy, Ed! I’m not going to lie for her—not when things are as serious as they are! Listen, Trixie, Suzanne’s not a good person, and I say that even though I truly love her. She’s never satisfied, and it’s never her fault. Agnar was good to her—really good to her. But you know Suzanne. There’s always a bigger pot of money to be had. The problem is, she was getting a little long in the tooth and her pool of prey is growing smaller by the minute.”
Okay, so here’s the thing—even her own friends don’t like her. I’m not so sure I should be tarred and feathered for feeling the same way. And I said as much with my eyes when I looked over at Higgs, who appeared as flabbergasted as me.
“Lucinda speaks the truth,” Grady Hanson confirmed, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Suzanne’s needy and insensitive, and she can’t begin to fathom the world doesn’t revolve around her.”
Hit and Nun (Nun of Your Business Mysteries Book 2) Page 12