by Blair Howard
“Why not?” I paused. “Ruth, you were at the club the night she was killed…. Oh, no,” I said, smiling, as her eyes widened, “you’re getting the wrong idea. I was just going to ask if you saw her with anybody.”
“Oh. I see. She was with Doctor Gray for almost an hour before she left, and she had a quick drink with Ralph and Mary. They were talking. About what, I have no clue.”
“How do you know they were talking? Were you watching them?”
“Harry, no.” She sounded outraged. “I know because I was seated at the bar just behind them. My lord, you have a suspicious mind.”
“You spoke to her in the lobby, when she was leaving. What was that about?”
“Wow, you have been digging around. I asked her how she was doing. She said fine, and that was about it. She left, and I left too.” She stopped talking for a moment, and we continued walking on past the eighteenth green in silence, into the growing darkness.
Eventually she spoke again. “She was my friend, Harry, and if there’s anything I can do to help… well, you only have to ask.” And then she took me completely by surprise. As she said it, she turned and stepped in front of me, put both arms around my neck, and kissed me—a deep, lingering kiss that took my breath away. I was so damned surprised that I just let it happen. Then I came to my senses. I grabbed her by both arms and pushed her away, none too gently.
She laughed, a deep gurgling sound I could almost feel.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that, Harry Starke.”
And I had to admit, it was kinda good. No, it was very good, but I had to nip this thing in the bud. “It was inappropriate, Ruth.” I said, “do you have a tissue by any chance?”
She laughed again, opened her clutch, took one out, and handed it to me. I wiped my mouth, folded it, and stuck it into my pants pocket.
“Inappropriate, am I? Oh Harry. I’ve been called some things in my life, but impropriate was never one of them. Don’t you like me?”
“It’s not a case of liking you. Of course I do.”
“But not enough to…?”
“No. Not enough for that.”
“Is it because of that little skank Amanda Cole?”
Whoa! What the hell brought that on? “Yes, it’s Amanda,” I snapped, “and she’s not a skank. Far from it. And that was inappropriate too. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll go back inside.”
She nodded, but said nothing, just turned and began to walk. I remained where I was. She stopped and turned to look at me.
“Well, are you coming or not? Or are you going to stand there and sulk for the rest of the night?”
When we got back inside, she placed her hand on my arm, and said, “Please remember. If there’s anything I can do to help. I will. Now, I have to rejoin my sisters. It’s the end of the month, and we always get together for dinner. Would you like to meet them?”
Well, what could I say to that? To refuse would have been inappropriate—there was that damned word again—and besides, I was curious.
They were already seated at their table. I’d heard they were twins, but I wasn’t expecting this. Nope, they weren’t dressed alike, but that was the only difference. They were both blondes. Both had their hair in ponytails. Their makeup was exactly the same, even down to the eyeliner and… yes, they were beautiful.
“Rachel, Rebekah; this is Harry Starke. Harry, these are my sisters.”
“Um, it’s nice to meet you both,” I said. They stood and shook my hand, first one and then the other. They were not as tall as their sister, by a good four inches. I have to tell you, their sameness was uncanny, unnerving. I looked at Ruth; she had an enigmatic, tongue-in-cheek smile on her face.
“Okay,” I said to Ruth. “I know you’ve heard it a thousand times, but how do you tell them apart?”
“I don’t really know,” she said. “I can, of course, but sometimes I do get it wrong. When I do, I think it’s because they want me too. Isn’t that right?”
They both laughed. Even that sounded the same.
“Please, Mr. Starke,” Rebekah said. At least, I think it was Rebekah. Ruth had introduced them in that order. “Come and sit down. Talk to us. We’ve heard so much about you. You’re quite famous, and oh-so handsome.”
“Yes, he is,” Rachel said. “No wonder Ruth is so taken with you.”
“Bekah, Rachel, please. You’re embarrassing me.”
The hell they were. Why do I suddenly get the feeling I’m being set up? “I’d love to sit and talk,” I said. You’d better believe it. “Unfortunately, my father and his wife are waiting for me. I really do need to get back to them. Some other time, perhaps?”
“Of course,” Ruth said. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, and for… well, you know,” she said, looking down at me. Sheesh. That’s a first.
“And, please don’t forget, if I can help….”
When I rejoined my father and Rose, I glanced at them from across the dining room. They were all seated, heads together, talking quietly.
“What was that all about?” August asked.
“I think Wonder Woman was on a fishing trip.”
“I’m sure she was,” Rose said dryly. “You have lipstick on your mouth.” I do? I thought I’d got it all.
“Damn,” I said. “Please excuse me while I go and clean up.” Yep, she was right. I did. I cleaned it off in the bathroom, made sure there was none on my shirt, then made my way back between the tables.
“So what did she want?” Rose asked.
“She wanted to know how the investigation was going…. It was… weird.”
“How so?” August asked.
“She kept saying how close she and Angela were, but that was the first I’d heard of it. Have you heard any such thing?”
He shook his head. I looked at Rose. She smiled and mouthed, “No.”
“So why would she tell me she was? And what the hell is she after?” I was talking to myself, and they were rhetorical questions that required no answers, but….
“Maybe she’s involved somehow,” Rose said. It was something that had been wandering through my own subconscious mind, a thought I’d pushed away, but….
I sat for a moment, thinking. Then I pushed my chair back and stood up. “I need for you to excuse me for a minute,” I said. They both looked up at me and nodded. “I’m going to see if I can get another invite to the Archer’s table. I turned them down a few minutes ago. Do me a favor, Dad. Keep an eye on me and back my play.”
I walked across the room, ostensibly heading for the bar, but wending my way between the tables, stopping now and then to say hello to friends until finally I reached the Archer table.
“Ladies,” I said affably, trying to act as if I were a little under the influence. “I was just on my way to the bar. Can I buy you all a drink?”
“Only if you sit with us while you drink it,” Rebekah said. Or was it Rachel?
“Er… well, I was….” I made a show of turning to look back at our table. August was watching; so was Rose. I pointed to my chest and then at the empty chair at the Archer’s table. He waved a hand, smiled, and nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “How lucky can a guy get? Three lovely creatures all in one spot. But only for a minute. Can’t neglect my stepmother.” I winked at them as I said it. “What would you like to drink?” They told me. I went to the bar and asked Joe to deliver them.
“So,” I said, sitting down beside Ruth, facing the twins. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Why Angela, of course.” I don’t know which one said it. Rachel, I think. “This place is literally buzzing with it. When are you going to arrest the killer?” She was laughing as she said it, but there was something about the look on her face that sent a chill down my spine. This girl was not like Ruth. Maybe neither of them were. They had an edge to them, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I don’t know who the killer is… yet.” I said, emphasizing the word.
“
Oh come on, Mr. Starke. You must have some idea. Do tell.”
“No, really. It’s still too early in the investigation,” I said, looking up at Joe as he delivered the drinks.
“Ruth tells me that she and Angela were great friends. Did you girls know her too?”
“Of course we did.” This time it was the other girl—Rebekah?—who answered. “We were all friends. In fact, I do a lot of business with Ralph Hartwell. I run Archer Finance, among other things. Before Ralph, I used to deal with Regis. Yes, Angela was our friend. Do you think it might have been someone here, at the club?”
So if you run the finance company, you’re Rachel. Hmmm. If Ruth can tell you two apart, why did she introduce you as Rebekah? Is she pulling my chain, or what?
“Again,” I said, “I don’t know. You do a lot of business with Ralph, though?”
She looked up at me through her eyelashes, just like her sister had. “Some. I maintain several accounts at Hartwell, we both do, for all four of our companies.” She said it slowly, and somewhat warily.
“Do you know him well?” I asked.
“Yes, I suppose so. Not socially, of course. Through our business dealings.”
“When did you last see Angela… Rachel?” She smiled at my obvious mistake. Yeah, I know. I could play their little game too. It was Rebekah—or was it? We’d see.
“Hmmm, last… Tuesday, I think it was. We were here for lunch. Angela was just leaving when we arrived…. How did you know I was Rachel?”
Now it was my turn to smile. I wasn’t sure who the hell she was.
“Maybe you’re not as alike as you think you are. Did she speak to you?”
“She said hello.” Rachel, if that’s who she was, was no longer smiling. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, pushing her chair back, “I need to use the facilities. Ruth, will you come with me?” And they left, leaving me alone with… hell, I didn’t know. Rebekah? Rachel? Damn!
“You must excuse my sister, Mr. Starke. She likes to play games with people. Sometimes I think she has a mean streak. But then, I also like to play with people… if you know what I mean.”
And boy did I. The look she was giving me was unmistakable. Her head was dipped slightly, her eyes were narrowed, and the smile offered an invitation that was hard to resist. I ignored it.
“It’s Rebekah, right?”
She leaned against the backrest of her chair and folded her hands in her lap, an enigmatic smile on her face, but she said nothing.
“Look, I need to get back to my table,” I said. “I’ve neglected them for too long. Please wish your sisters a good evening from me and tell them it’s been a pleasure.” I got to my feet, pushed the chair in, and walked back to my own table. I felt like I’d been put through a wood chipper. I’d already known Ruth was a shark. Now I knew her sisters were barracudas, too.
I didn’t linger at the club. It was already after ten, and I wanted to get out of there. I said my goodbyes and left. As I walked toward the foyer, I turned to wave to my father; out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Archers. All three of them were watching me.
Chapter 16
I arrived home and turned on the TV in the living room just in time to see Amanda close out her segment. It was just after eleven. I hit the speed dial on my cell phone and called her.
“Hey, Harry. You must have been watching me.”
“I was. You going home or coming here?”
“Depends on you. Do you have anything to eat?”
“I could knock you something up.”
For some reason, that made her laugh. “We’ll think of something,” she said. “I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes. Why don’t you open a nice bottle of red?”
“That I can do. See you soon.” After I disconnected I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Merlot, opened it, and set it on the counter to breathe. Then I poured myself three generous fingers of Laphroaig Quarter-Cask scotch and walked out onto the patio overlooking the river.
All was quiet. The river was a flat sheet of onyx, the blackness broken only by the reflections of the lights on the Thrasher Bridge in the distance. The vast bulk of Lookout Mountain was silhouetted against the deep violet of the moonlit sky. Somewhere off in the distance, I heard music playing. Mozart’s Symphony number 41. It suited my mood perfectly, and that of the river. I settled down on a lounger and was soon lost in thought.
I must have nodded off, because the next thing I knew Amanda was shaking my shoulder.
“Hey you,” she said.
I came to with a start, looked around, disoriented.
“Wow,” I said. “I was gone for a minute.” I shook my head. “How are you? How was your day?”
“Better now that I’m here. More to the point: how was yours?”
I looked down. I still had my drink in my hand. I set it on the table beside the lounger, got to my feet, put my hands on her shoulders, and kissed her, lightly.
“That, my dear, was what I was trying to get a handle on when I came out here. It was productive, at least early on. Then, at the club, it kinda got away from me. I met the rest of Archer family.”
“Oh… and…?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. They asked a whole lot of questions, more than you’d consider normal, and… Ruth made a pass at me.”
“Oh she did? And exactly how did that work?”
“She asked to talk to me in private. We went outside and… she kissed me.” You think telling her was a mistake? Yeah, well. Better she got it from me than from someone else.
“She kissed you?” Her voice had nails in it.
“She did, but I pushed her away and told her it wasn’t on. What really bothered me, though, was I couldn’t figure out what it was all about. You had to be there to understand what I mean?”
“Oh I wish I’d been there all right.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” Keep working it, Harry. You’ll get there in the end.
“Look, Amanda. There was nothing to it. She took me by surprise is all. Hell Dad and Rose were both there. She was after information. I have the strongest feeling that the Archer family is in some way involved in this mess. I’m sure of it. I was trying to figure it out, before you came home, but I fell asleep.”
She looked at me, her face softened, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you, well, not entirely. I blame her. So what was she after?”
“In a minute. You hungry? No? Wine, then?”
She nodded. I went into the house, poured her a glass, and brought it out to her. She was standing on the edge of the patio, looking out over the river toward the mountain, seemingly deep in thought.
“Penny for them,” I said, handing her the drink.
“I’ve never liked that family. I knew them in high school, and their father was a sleazy little man even then. He was as crooked as he was high. I always thought the girls were a chip off the old block….” She stopped talking, stared out into space, her glass to her lips, her left hand a fist on her right hip.
“Go on,” I said.
“They’ve been involved in some sharp financial practices. At least that’s what Charlie Groves from the network says. He has no proof, of course, but I wouldn’t bet against him.”
“What kind of sharp practices?”
“Car loans, boat loans, mortgages. That finance company they run is little more than a pool full of loan sharks. They skirt the laws. Make loans to people that can’t afford to make the payments. They take a large down payment, set interest rates high. If the customer pays, fine. If not, they repossess or foreclose and the borrower loses everything. They employ a couple of heavies to repo the cars and boats and get the courts to foreclose on the real estate, then they start the process over, and resell. No laws are ever broken, at least that we know of. It’s a win-win situation. Profitable either way. Charlie reckons they repo more cars and boats than they sell. Weird, huh? So, tell me what happened at the club.”
I gave her the full story. I told her my thoug
hts, especially those about the Archer’s fishing for information, first Ruth and then the twins. We talked on into the night, and the more we did, and the more I listened to Amanda’s input, the more convinced I became the Archers were somehow connected, but for the life of me I couldn’t see how.
“And then there’s the fact that, as far as we know,” I said, “Ruth was the last person to see Angela alive.”
“So what now?” she asked. “Have you talked to Kate?”
“Not yet. I will tomorrow. You asked what next, though—I’ve been thinking about that. The first thing to do is to delve deep into the Archer family affairs. I’ll get Ronnie on that in the morning. I’d also like to talk to the Crofts and the Bentleys. They were close friends of the Hartwells, or so I’ve been told. Maybe Angela told them something we don’t know.” But, hell. We don’t know nothin’!
“I also need to see if Mike Willis found anything with that Pathtech thing he’s so proud of. Hell, I might even give Ruth another chance to grill me. Maybe she’ll let something slip. I think maybe lunch at the club is in order.”
“Oh I doubt that. She’s a smart bi—she’s smart. Too damn smart by far to let anything slip.” She paused. “When were you planning to do it?”
“I have stuff I need to get done tomorrow, so I thought maybe Friday.”
“Tell you what. I don’t have to go in to work until three thirty. Why don’t I come with you?”
I grinned at her. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I can handle the… bi—all by myself.”
“Oh I’m not worried about you. Her? Yes. I’m coming with you. Don’t argue.”
I smiled and shook my head. Big as Ruth was, I had no doubt that Amanda was a match for her; maybe not physically, but in a battle of words, Ruth wouldn’t stand a chance. I said okay and let it go.
Finally, we lay there, quietly, side by side, holding hands and sipping our drinks. Life was good.
Chapter 17
The following morning, I drove by the police department on my way to the office and handed Willis the tissue I’d used to wipe my mouth after Ruth Archer kissed me. It was a forlorn hope that there might be usable DNA on it, but hell, you never know. I told him it was urgent, and asked him if he could get it expedited. He said he’d give it his best try. I left him staring down at the plastic baggie. I had a good idea of what he was thinking.