by Mary Bowers
“Tell me anyway,” she said, sitting forward in anticipation, then she uttered a little curse as the doorbell rang and they both turned their heads to look.
“That’s gotta be Roy Angers,” Dobbs said. “He’s expecting you, and we’ve been in here talking for more than an hour. You wait here. No, on second thought, go into the dining room. I left my notes and equipment spread out on the table in there. Last night I spent another hour or two going over things after you all left, and finally I woke up face-down on the table and took myself off to bed. Not the media room. I couldn’t face it last night, and the séance table was still in there taking up almost all the empty space. I flopped in one of the guest bedrooms down the hall. Anyway, go into the dining room now and start writing something, anything, on whatever paper you can find. He’ll think we’ve been consulting over the haunting.”
By that time, the bell was ringing again, and it kept on ringing until Dobbs got through the foyer and opened the front door.
Chapter 25
When Roy Angers entered the dining room, Taylor was furiously writing, distracted, oblivious. She paused and looked up at him, seeming to take a moment to recognize him.
He looked back at her cynically, shook his head, then pulled out a chair and turned it around so he could sit man-style, leaning forward onto the back of the chair.
“Fun night, wasn’t it?” he said. “I know I had a ball.”
She put the pen down, relaxed back and gazed at him. “Good. I’m glad. Because I was worried about you at the time. You seemed . . . perturbed, and I’m always anxious about clients who challenge the spirits the way you did. No bad dreams last night, I hope?”
“Slept like a baby.”
Dobbs had circled the table and sat opposite Roy, leaving an empty chair between himself and Taylor so Roy couldn’t comfortably see both of them at the same time.
“Glad to hear it,” Taylor said. “Of course, you had your friends at the table, near to you.”
“I don’t know if I’d call them friends. I’ve known Kent and Tiffany from the egg, so to speak, but we’ve never been really close. I guess we’d better get close, though, if we’re going to run the bar together.” He paused and gave her an ugly smile. “It was so comforting, being able to hold Kent’s hand last night.”
“Actually, I wasn’t thinking of Kent. I was thinking of Britt. But then, you were holding his hand, too. Was that a comfort, too?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Just what are you getting at?”
She pushed herself back from the table and relaxed. “He was awful concerned about you last night, when you got so upset with Alan. Tried to settle you down. It was sweet.” She looked over at Dobbs. “Did you notice that, too?”
Without taking his eyes off Roy, Dobbs said, “Yes I did. I thought it was strange, at the time.”
“Me too,” Taylor said. She turned back to Roy. “Any comments? I know he’s engaged to your other new partner, Tiffany. Is he looking forward to getting into the restaurant business? Has he been trying to be like a son to you?” she added in a syrupy voice.
“He’s shown some interest,” Roy said defensively. “I don’t really know the kid, but I guess I like him. Alan didn’t, but that doesn’t matter now.”
“So you might consider taking Britt into the business,” Taylor said. “Interesting. Has he asked to work with you?”
After a hesitation, Roy said, “Okay, yes. He did ask. He’s excited about it, actually. Even pushy. He came to me after Alan died and suggested he invest in the business, become my partner. He wants to manage the bar, and he knew Alan would never have stood for it. Like I said, he didn’t like Britt. He thought Tiffany could do way better. Britt talked about me needing help now, more than ever, and I was getting to the age where I should want to retire, not have to work even harder.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Roy shrugged. “I didn’t blow him off, if that’s what you mean. As a partner, I don’t need him. However, if he cares to make an investment . . . .” Roy concentrated on Taylor for a moment, then said, “What’s on your mind, woman? You got some kind of psychic vibe about Britt you want to tell me about?”
“I get all kinds of psychic vibes. I can’t help myself. It’s a gift. Tell me, Roy, how’s your love life?”
With a jerk of the head, he barked, “You think I’ve been fooling around with Britt?”
“No. But I think I know who you’d like to fool around with. She was at the table last night, wasn’t she? That’s why you were asking Alan’s permission to go ahead with something. Even though he’s dead, you still feel like you need his approval. He was your friend. When he told you to stay away from her, it meant something to you. And even after everything that’s happened, you still want to approach her with a clear conscience. That was the whole point of the séance, wasn’t it? You wanted her there so you could make it seem like Alan was in favor of the match.”
Roy regarded her silently; his skeptical look was gone. But Dobbs bridled and asked in a shocked voice, “He’s after Tiffany? He’s old enough to be her father!”
“No, you dope,” Taylor said without looking at him. “He wants Wendy. He knew Tiffany would tell her mother about the séance, and she’d insist on coming too. If she hadn’t, he would have called her himself, but he didn’t want it to happen that way. As it was, Tiffany told her, and everything went according to plan. He had them all together at the séance: Alan, Wendy and himself; the three of them. Of course, his original plan was to fake Alan’s presence and have him give his blessing. How long have you been in love with Wendy, Roy? Since Alan left her? Since you saw her all decked out at a fundraiser and sparkling like a diamond? Or has it been since the very beginning, when it really was just the three of you: Alan, Wendy and yourself, trying to get the business on its feet, working together, just a trio of ambitious youngsters trying to make a success of something?”
His gaze fell to the tabletop and he mumbled, “It’s been some time now.”
“And then Alan left her and you had your chance,” Taylor said, digging in. “He didn’t appreciate her – what was it that made you want her? – her attractiveness, her character, her sense of humor?”
“All of it,” he said miserably, “all of it. To me, she was the only woman in the world, and he threw her away for some stray cat that came and rubbed up against him. I didn’t need his approval, but one day I mentioned it to him, I don’t know why. I guess I was shy about approaching Wendy after all these years of being just a friend. I couldn’t believe it when he told me to stay away from her. She wasn’t his anymore! What did he care? I told him he couldn’t go off with some other woman and not expect her to ever have another man, but he said he didn’t want it to be me. Not a friend – like that could have made a difference!”
“It would have made your working relationship a little awkward,” she said.
“That was up to him. I didn’t care about that. And that was just an excuse he was making, anyway. He just didn’t want Wendy with another man, no matter who it was. He was that selfish, the bastard.”
“Is that why you killed him?” Dobbs asked. “So you could have his wife? Or just because he was a selfish bastard.”
Taylor and Dobbs waited, while Roy looked from one to the other for a while. “Is that what you think?”
“You were pretty weirded-out when you realized it was really him coming through Taylor last night,” Dobbs said.
“I’m not asking you, kid.” He stared at Taylor, waiting for an answer.
Finally, she said, “No. I don’t think you killed him. I’ve got it down to two, no three suspects, and I think you can help me decide which one of them did it, and whether or not he had an accomplice.”
“Oh, he had an accomplice,” Dobbs said. “Jessamine Pissarro. And then he killed her, too.”
“Not Jessamine,” Taylor said. “She was just his dupe. I mean Tiffany. What about it, Roy – will you help me figure it out?”
�
�Yeah, sure, if I can,” he said in some confusion. “What is it you want?”
“Well, first of all, I want you to go pack a bag and come home with me. You’re going to be my houseguest until this is over.”
He reared back. “Why?”
“Because after the séance last night, your life is in danger. The killer I have in mind might have interpreted the things you said to mean you know he’s guilty, and I’m afraid he might come after you next.”
After staring at her for a while, he said, “Yeah, sure, I’ll come with you. But if I do, you have to tell me everything you’re thinking right now. Either you’re a pretty good guesser, or you’re psychic after all. Either way, I think I want you on my side.”
“Good.” She looked at Dobbs. “Go pack. You’re coming too. I’ll wait here. I have a few phone calls to make.”
She took out her cellphone and got up her Contacts, then she stopped, looking back to Roy. “You live right next door. You might have seen something. Did you suspect that Jessamine had a boyfriend? I mean while her husband was still alive?”
“Yeah, I saw him sneaking around,” Roy said evasively. “Didn’t see him clearly, though. I don’t know who it was, but it didn’t surprise me. Alan got what he paid for – literally. I figured he had it coming if she cheated on him.”
“Okay,” she said, going back to her phone. “I want to know more about that when we get to Cadbury House.”
“I don’t know any more about that.”
“Oh, I think you might. You just don’t like what you’re thinking.”
He gave her a look, started to say something, changed his mind, then turned and left without saying a word.
After staring at Taylor brilliantly for a moment, Dobbs said, “You’re amazing. It’s a pleasure to be associated with really gifted people like you and Ed.”
“Hello, Myrtle,” Taylor said into the phone. “Get two guest bedrooms ready. We’ve got company coming.”
Chapter 26
Many cars arrived at Cadbury House at the same time an hour later, forming a small, slow, dusty caravan down the dirt road from Old Kings Road to the front of the riverside mansion.
They parked side-by-side, one after the other in order of arrival, all in a row before the house, and cut their engines at the same time. Then the drivers got out of their cars and looked around at one another, bewildered, all except for two of them: Taylor Verone and Detective Burton Bruno.
Even Ed, who’d been called by Taylor and ordered to report for duty, seemed edgy. She hadn’t really told him what she was up to. And Michael, who lived there and was just innocently coming home after his golf game, had no idea what all these people were doing there, but he was ready to play host, if that’s what Taylor wanted.
Dobbs got out of his car slowly and gave Taylor a wary look, and Roy Angers slammed the door of his car and glared at her.
For a quiet moment, everyone looked to Taylor for an explanation. She made a gathering motion toward the house with both arms and said, “In you go.”
As they walked up to the veranda, Detective Bruno worked his way beside her and said, “So nice of you to call. Stetson’s on his way. Can you hold the fireworks until he gets here?”
“Fireworks? I’m not planning any fireworks. Just a nice group discussion on a subject near to all of our hearts. Come to think of it, it’s partly a love story.”
With hooded eyes, he said, “And also a hate story?”
“Maybe that, too. Let’s find out, shall we?” They were across the veranda by then, the last in line, and she held the door for him and swept him inside, saying, “Please.”
When Taylor’s herd of men walked through to the great room, they gathered in a loose cluster and gazed around, at a loss. Myrtle stared at them from the kitchen, aghast.
She located Taylor and made a bee-line for her. “Do they want lunch? Because all I’ve got is leftover vegetarian chili. These are men. They probably want meat. I guess I could make some omelets.” She was wringing her hands and whispering distractedly, and Taylor told her she could go upstairs to her room and relax; if they got hungry they’d bake a frozen pizza or two, but she was pretty sure nobody would be thinking about food.
“Are they all staying?” Myrtle asked before she could make herself move. “I only got two guest rooms ready.”
“You did just right. Thank you.”
Myrtle pivoted and made for the stairs.
Taylor looked into the great room, then gestured toward the banquet table on the west side of the room, near the fieldstone fireplace.
“Have a seat, gentlemen.”
* * * * *
They left the seat at the head of the table for her, and after some sparring, she found herself adjacent to Ed and Detective Bruno. Roy Angers had apparently decided he should be next to her, but the detective faced him down and ended up being the only one on that side of the long table. Stetson, when he arrived, would sit next to him.
Facing the detective were Ed, Dobbs and Roy, in that order, and at the foot of the table, Michael looked on.
Everybody stared but nobody objected when Ed activated his recorder and set it on the table. He cleared his throat. “Please be careful to speak up and enunciate,” he said, and although he got a few scowls, nobody said anything. In fact, Bruno smiled.
From far down the table, Roy spoke up just fine. “What the hell am I doing here, anyway? I can take care of myself. I can’t believe you got me to pack up and run away. You must be a hypnotist. As soon as I get up from this table I’m getting back in my car and going home.”
“You can if you like,” Taylor said. “I don’t think you should, though.”
“Why not?”
“Because you were a little . . . obscure at the séance last night, and the murderer was present. What you said might have been interpreted to mean you wanted Alan Pissarro’s approval to avenge his murder, which would imply you knew who it was. If I’m right, I think the killer has already struck twice. He won’t hesitate to strike again.”
That set Roy back into his seat, looking sober. “‘He’ you say. You know who it is, then.”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m about to find out.” She looked to the detective, but before she could say anything, Ed’s cellphone rang.
“I’ll silence it,” he mumbled, fishing around for it in his pocket.
“No,” Taylor said. “See who it is.”
“Unknown Caller. It’s somebody not in my Contacts.”
“Answer it.”
He hesitated, looking at her closely, then slid his finger across the green dot on his phone. “Oh!” was the first thing he said. Wide-eyed, he talked away from the phone. “It’s Wendy. She got my number from Tiffany.”
“See what she wants,” Taylor said grimly.
Ed went back to the cellphone, listened for a moment, then said, “Taylor? I’m with her right now. What is it? You can go ahead and tell me; I’ll tell her for you.”
The muffled voice coming through the phone was audible but not intelligible to the rest of the people around the table, and after telling Wendy not to worry, Ed hung up.
“She’s very upset,” he told Taylor. “She had a dream about blueberries last night. As I think I mentioned to you, she considers that a bad omen. She’s afraid.”
“Oh,” Taylor said, and she shrank a bit. “I was afraid of that. I’d rather it had gone another way.”
“What other way?” Detective Bruno asked.
She turned to him and organized her thoughts. So much had happened that he didn’t know about. “You remember Séance 1-b, up in the media room? Roy believed that Alan Pissarro was there, and he made a few obscure remarks. Well, since we talked to you last night, we’ve figured out what that was all about.”
“Right,” Dobbs said. “He wanted to hit on Wendy, and Alan objected.”
Roy ruffled himself up like an outraged rooster just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Michael said quietly, and he got up and w
ent to the door. He came back with Detective Stetson, who nodded to his partner and sat down beside him.
Before Michael sat down, he offered coffee or tea, but nobody was in the mood.
“I guess we’re down to taking our pick now,” Taylor said. “You tell me, detective. After questioning everybody, you should know who had the opportunity. Which was it: Kent Pissarro or Britt Bascombe?”
Bruno angled his head. “What makes you think it was one of them? The thing about the kayak. You were right, by the way. We figured that out too, but Bascombe’s kayak is kept in Tiffany Pissarro’s garage. Any one of the three of them could have used it – or ‘borrowed’ it: Tiffany herself, her brother Kent, who has access to her house and garage, and Bascombe, who also has access. But the kayak doesn’t solve the whole problem.”
“I know. There are other things.”
“Proof?”
“You’ll be able to get proof.”
“What a relief,” he said without breaking eye contact with her. “Are you going to tell me about it or just get it for me?”
“You’ll have to get it yourself. Your resources are better than mine. They work in the real world.”
Bruno gave her a slow smile. “Care to elaborate?”
“Jessamine had a boyfriend,” she said.
“I only suspected that,” Dobbs interjected. “I wasn’t sure.”
Ed regarded him coldly. “You never told me that.”
“Like I said, I wasn’t sure. She was dead and couldn’t defend her reputation. You’re a gentleman, Ed. You wouldn’t have approved of loose talk, especially about a lady.”
Ed continued to stare at him for a moment, weighing it up, then he nodded in acknowledgement and looked back to Taylor. “Proceed,” he said, “and remember to speak up.”
Stetson looked at the recorder with its red light shining, looked at his partner, shook his head and waited for more.
Bruno took the focus back to Taylor. “So you’re convinced she had a boyfriend. Why?”
“Roy saw him.”
“I said I saw somebody,” Roy objected. “I don’t know who it was or what they were there for. Might have been the propane guy, working overtime.”