by Joyce Tremel
“Thank you,” she said. “My parents didn’t know what to name me and the first thing my mother saw was her paisley scarf she’d worn to the hospital, and she thought that would be a lovely name.”
Paisley looked away, and Elmer caught my eye and mouthed “Nutso” to me.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Daisy said.
When the music began a minute later, Paisley said she was going to look for her sister and she’d be back. The rest of us turned toward the stage. I saw Candy and Tommy standing on the lawn at the other corner of the stage. If Felix looked that way, he’d surely see them. I nudged Jake and pointed. “Over there.”
“I see them,” he said.
Throughout the band’s set, my gaze kept going back and forth between the stage and Candy. The Deutschmen’s repertoire was more varied than what they’d played at the fire hall party. In between polkas and German songs, they played and sang some oldies and classic rock. Apparently Bruce Hoffman’s keyboard was a multipurpose instrument that even simulated guitar and drumbeats.
The three remaining band members took turns introducing songs. When they’d been performing about forty-five minutes, it was Felix’s turn. “This will be the last song in this set, then we’re going to take a little break and be back in a bit. When this song first came out, the world was a different place. It was all so complicated back then. We questioned everything and didn’t trust anyone. The world is not any simpler now, but I think we’ve learned a few things over the years. At least I have.” He cleared his throat. “Before I bore you any further, I’ll end with saying I’d like to dedicate this song to a very old friend.” He turned his head toward the spot where Candy and Tommy were. “Her name was Catherine.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The band launched into an old Elvis Presley tune, “Suspicious Minds.” Even from the opposite end of the stage, I could see Candy’s face pale. Tommy put his arm around her. “That’s for Candy,” I said. “Felix must have known her as Catherine.” I didn’t wait for anyone’s comments. I spun around and headed behind the stage and over to the other side. I heard Daisy ask where I was going. I didn’t stop to answer.
Candy had recovered by the time I reached them and she was arguing with Tommy. “I am not leaving,” she said. “Not until I know more.”
Tommy was having none of that. “You wanted him to see you. He did and he most certainly remembers who you are. Don’t tell me you don’t remember the proper procedure—once you’re compromised, you get out.”
“I don’t give a rat’s patootie about any proper procedure. I’m a civilian now and can do things my way, which in retrospect would have worked out a whole lot better. Following protocol is what got us into trouble in the first place.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” he said.
“Yes, we did. If we would have confronted Josef in the first place instead of running away—”
“We would both be dead,” Tommy said. “Don’t forget—there were eyes and ears everywhere.”
Candy crossed her arms. “I am staying and that’s all there is to it. If you want to leave, go right ahead. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
Ouch.
Tommy turned to me. “Talk some sense into her, Max. She won’t listen to me.”
I nodded my head toward the stage. “Instead of the two of you bickering, you should think about what you’re going to do when the song is over. I was dead set against both of you coming here in the first place, but since you have, you might as well make the best of it.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just said that and neither could Candy. She had opened her mouth to likely give me a reason she wasn’t leaving, but closed it again. Just then there was a loud clap of thunder followed by a flash of lightning. The band stopped playing and Bruce Hoffman announced that for safety reasons the concert was over. Before I had a chance to even process that, the clouds opened up and the rain that had been threatening for hours finally came.
People in the crowd hurriedly gathered up their belongings and dashed for the parking lot or whatever cover they could find. Candy, Tommy, and I ran for the stage since we were so close to it. Jake and the others did the same from the opposite side.
The band members were center stage, beginning to gather up their equipment. Felix was slipping his accordion strap over his head and paused when he saw us, then removed it and placed it in the case. Candy and Tommy stopped at the edge of the stage.
“Are you sure you want to do this, love?” Tommy asked her.
“I am.”
I thought Felix would head our way, but instead he snapped his accordion case closed, said something to Bruce, went down the rear steps of the stage, and ran for his car. I hadn’t expected that. Candy and I looked at each other and it was apparent she hadn’t, either.
“That was interesting,” Tommy said. “I believe you frightened him away, my dear.”
While we waited for the rain to stop, Jake and I helped Bruce and Manny pack up the rest of their stuff. When Elmer began complaining that he didn’t have anything to do, I gave my car keys to Daisy to take him home. Kristie went with her. I told her to leave the keys with Nicole at the pub and I’d have Jake drop me off later to pick up the car. Candy and Tommy stuck around and asked a few questions about Felix, until Manny asked them why they were asking so many questions. Candy made up a story that wasn’t too far from the truth. She told them that Felix really had recognized her last week and that he was an old friend she hadn’t seen in many years.
It wasn’t until we’d finished that Paisley came back with her sister. Rhonda was dressed more informally than she’d been at the funeral, but her navy slacks and navy and white striped jersey still looked expensive. Even though the rain was just a drizzle by then, the sisters were under a white golf umbrella that Rhonda carried. She closed it and handed it to Paisley.
Rhonda’s gaze went from one person to another and finally rested on me. “Weren’t you at Walter’s funeral?” she said.
Paisley answered for me. “Yes, she was. And don’t be mean to her. She’s been very nice to me.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Rhonda spun around and walked to where Bruce was loading the van.
He greeted her with an embrace that seemed much more than a casual one. The way she leaned into him and touched his arm while they talked made me wonder if they were lovers.
Paisley noticed I was watching them. “They make an interesting couple, don’t they?” she said. “They’ve been seeing each other for a while now. Walter wasn’t crazy about it.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“He said they were too much alike. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, do you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I told him he should be happy. If it wasn’t for them, Walter wouldn’t have sold any of the things he’d been working on. I’m going to talk to Manny. See you later.” She flitted across the stage.
Jake put his arm around me. “Ready to go?”
“Definitely.” We hollered a good-bye to Bruce and Manny, and along with Candy and Tommy, headed to the parking lot.
• • •
Daisy had left my car safe and sound in the lot beside the pub. Jake had gone home after dropping me off because he was scheduled to assist with the high school hockey practice again at the ridiculous hour of four a.m. I’d planned to meet with Candy and Tommy at her house once I got my car, so I promised to fill Jake in at Sunday dinner. I made a quick trip inside to get my keys. It was a typical busy Saturday night, and I stopped briefly to chat with a few regulars before leaving again.
Candy lived in a quaint row house on a side street only a few blocks from Cupcakes N’at. She’d bought the house back when the neighborhood had been considered distressed. One by one, the houses had been sold and renovated, and likely tripled in value. Most of her neighbors were now up and coming professionals who preferred city living to the suburbs.
Tommy answered the door when I arrived. He’d ditched the Hawaiian shirt and had traded the black socks and sandals for bedroom slippers. “Come in, my dear. Candace will be down momentarily. She’s upstairs changing.”
I followed him down a hallway that went past the living room and into Candy’s neat kitchen.
“I took the liberty of making tea,” he said. “Unless you prefer something stronger.”
“Tea is perfect. Thank you.” I sat down at the small tile-topped table. When Candy had found the table at a flea market, it hadn’t been in the greatest shape. She had taken it home and a week later had me stop by to see it. She’d removed the plain white cracked tile and replaced it with colorful mosaic. She had painted and antiqued the rest of it. It turned out beautifully.
Tommy poured tea into a cup and handed it to me. “Before Candace comes down, I want to thank you for being such a good friend to her, especially over the past week. It’s been very stressful for her. It took her years to come to terms with shooting Josef and she thought it was all in the past.”
“Candy’s been a good friend to me as well. I haven’t done anything that she hasn’t done for me a thousand times over. I just wish she wouldn’t have kept this all to herself.”
He smiled. “You know Candace.”
I returned the smile. “Yes, I do.”
Candy came into the kitchen just then. She had changed into pink pajamas, a terry cloth robe, and pink bunny slippers. It was odd seeing her in a different color. “Nice slippers,” I said.
“Thanks.” She sat down beside Tommy on the other side of the table and poured a cup of tea for herself. “I don’t know what to make of tonight.”
“I don’t either,” I said. “Why would Felix leave after practically calling you out? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe he thought I was going to shoot him again. If I ran into someone who’d shot me, I’d hightail it out of there, too. He probably expected me to run off when he called me ‘Catherine.’ That was the alias I used back then, by the way.”
“He should have known you’re not one to back down from a fight,” I said.
Tommy refilled his cup. “He’s biding his time for some reason. He wants whatever he has planned to be on his own schedule.”
I sipped my tea. “But why? Why is he here? Did he already know Candy lived here, or did he only find out when we showed up at the Oktoberfest party? How and why did he get involved with the Deutschmen? Did Doodle really know something about Felix that got him killed?”
Candy smiled. “You certainly have a lot of questions.”
“Good ones, too,” Tommy added.
I asked, “So how do we get answers?”
Candy tapped her fingernails on the table while she thought about it, then pushed her teacup aside. “You said those two women were Doodle’s sisters?”
I nodded. “Rhonda and Paisley.”
“I think we should start with them.”
Tommy agreed. “It’s likely they know Felix better than anyone. If nothing else, they certainly knew their brother. It’s possible something they say or do will lead us closer to discovering what Felix has in mind.”
“I’m sure Rhonda knows Bruce pretty well.” I told them what I’d witnessed right before we left Hartwood. “Rhonda is also a little snobby. I doubt she would tell us much.”
“I’d talk to Paisley then,” Candy said. “She seems like she’d be a little more forthcoming with information.”
I agreed. “Paisley certainly likes to talk and it’s possible she’d reveal a lot without even knowing she’s doing it. I’ll call her tomorrow and set something up. Do you want to come with me?”
“I’d love to,” Candy said.
“Tommy?”
He shook his head. “I’ll leave that to you ladies. In the meantime, I’m going to ring up my contacts again and see if they’ve made any progress in discovering what Josef has been doing all these years. They haven’t had any information so far.”
I finished my tea and Candy walked me to the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get ahold of Paisley.”
“Sounds good.”
Halfway out the door I remembered something. “Did Mom call you about coming to dinner tomorrow?”
“She did. We’ll be there.” She suddenly crushed me to her in a bear hug. I usually dreaded these, but I didn’t mind it so much this time. When she released me, she said, “Thanks for everything, Max. You are a dear, dear friend.”
I nodded and headed to my car. I couldn’t get any words out—they stuck in my throat. I blinked away the tears in my eyes. I hated seeing Candy like this. She’d always been larger than life. There had been moments over the past week when she’d been her old self, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted the old Candy back. I vowed to do whatever I could to make that happen.
• • •
When I got home, I played with my neglected cat. Hops made sure I knew that I hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to her over the last couple of days. When she finally tired of playing, she went to the bedroom and coiled up in her shoe box. It looked like that might be her permanent bed. This week anyway.
I was hungry so I fixed a bowl of cereal, which was about all I had in the kitchen other than peanut butter or cat food. When I’d finished, I rinsed the bowl and left it in the sink. After I got ready for bed, I was still wide awake, so I took my laptop to the living room and booted it up. It was time to ask my good friend Google for some information.
I began with the victim, Walter “Doodle” Dowdy. The first thing that came up was his obituary. I’d looked at it briefly the other day, but now read it again. It mentioned his sisters, Paisley Dowdy and Rhonda Dowdy Williams. Rhonda must have been married at some point. Either that, or she’d changed her name. There was nothing else of interest so I moved on.
The next entry was a newspaper article from a year ago about the Deutschmen. Felix hadn’t joined the group as yet. The fourth member back then was a Roy Williams—the same last name as Rhonda. Now that was an interesting tidbit. If Roy had been her husband, had Bruce Hoffman come between them? I opened a new tab and Googled Roy Williams Pittsburgh. There were too many hits so I added Deutschmen to the search. The only things that came up were some old listings of appearances and the article I’d been reading. I’d add Roy to my list of questions for Paisley.
I went back to Doodle’s search and scrolled through another Google page, then clicked through to the next. At the top of page two, there was a website link for Walter Dowdy, Artist. I vaguely remembered seeing a couple of canvases and some art supplies in Doodle’s house, but no paintings. I was pleasantly surprised when I clicked on the link and saw photos of his paintings on the website. Most of them were landscapes. Some of them looked familiar, like I’d seen them before. A few others were clearly scenes of Pittsburgh. There were several portraits of people painted in different styles—some old-fashioned, some modern. There was even one of his sisters. Although these were photos and not the actual paintings, he was clearly very talented.
His site had a rather noninteresting bio and a page where you could buy the featured paintings. The last tab at the top of the page read Commissioned Works. When I clicked on the tab, it asked for a password. Weird. I tried it again with the same result. Another thing to add to my questions for Paisley.
Next, I typed Bruce Hoffman and Pittsburgh into the search bar. Everything that came up had to do with the band. I tried Manny Levin and got the same thing. Finally, I entered Felix Holt and got the same result.
I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was. After all, Tommy’s contacts hadn’t come up with anything yet so I shouldn’t have expected an Internet search to turn up something that government agencies couldn’t find. To disappoint myself further, I tried Josef Bartek and got absolutely nothing.
Before I logged off for the night, I decided to check
my e-mail and there was one from Mom.
Hi Sweetie. Philip sent me some photos from the gallery opening and there are some good ones of you and Jake. There are some of the four of us as well. I’ve attached them. See you tomorrow.
Hopefully, Victoria wasn’t in any of them. I opened the attachment. She was right—they were great photos. There was one of Mom, Dad, Jake, and me that I especially liked. It would be great to get printed and framed, which reminded me that I should take the photo of the blessing of the barrels that Fran had given me to Sunday dinner to show Sean. When I got to the last photo, someone in the background caught my eye. Figuring I was seeing things, I enlarged the photo. It hadn’t been my imagination at all.
Felix Holt had been at the gallery opening.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
What in the world had Felix been doing at the gallery? I studied the photo closely. He stood just inside the door. He wore a nice suit so he blended in with the other men who either wore suits or tuxedos. Why hadn’t I seen him there? And if he saw me, why didn’t he stop and say hello? Had he been in any other photos? Too many questions and no answers.
I wondered if Philip had more photos. Mom had attached these instead of forwarding whatever he had sent her. One way to find out. I replied to Mom’s e-mail thanking her for sending the pictures and asked if Philip had sent more—that I wouldn’t mind seeing all of them. I also asked for Philip’s e-mail address. If he hadn’t sent other photos to her, I could then ask him directly.
As much as I wanted to wait for a reply from my mother, I closed my laptop and placed it on the kitchen counter. It was after eleven p.m. and I doubted very much she was still awake. I’d check it in the morning before I left for Mass. I headed for bed.
• • •
The first thing I did when I woke up at six—after feeding Hops, of course, who let me know in no uncertain terms that she was starving—was check my e-mail. Mom was an early riser so I wasn’t surprised to see she’d sent a response an hour ago. She had forwarded Philip’s e-mail, which contained photos in a zip file instead of the half-dozen she’d chosen for me. Mom closed the e-mail with the warning that some of the photos included Victoria. I smiled to myself, figuring that was why she hadn’t forwarded Philip’s e-mail in the first place. Maybe I could have one of Victoria’s photos enlarged to hang on the dartboard in the pub.