by Kylie Logan
“And Vivien didn’t take you up on it?” I was glad Levi asked the question so I didn’t come across as too pushy.
“That’s right,” Alex told him. “After Estelle died and I called and told Vivien how I’d always admired the old tools, I said right away that I was willing to pay whatever she thought was a good market price. I even had a list I made from auctions I saw online. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to shortchange her. And Vivien, well, she told me not to even think about paying. She said I should stop by this evening and pick up whatever I wanted.”
“Definitely not what she said about the curly maple highboy.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Any idea why she was feeling so generous?” I asked Alex.
“Well, that’s exactly what I asked her.”
Hank sat with pen on paper, ready to take note of whatever Alex had to say. “And what was her answer?”
“She said she didn’t need the money.” Alex’s brows dropped over his eyes and he wrinkled his nose. “It was awfully nice of her.”
“And completely out of character,” Hank commented. “I mean, let’s face it, we all might not have known Ms. Frisk well . . .” His gaze went ever so briefly to Levi, and I barely controlled myself; I wanted to jump up and give Hank a high-five for the moral support. “But I think we all know that she didn’t have a reputation as a woman who was especially charitable.”
“Well, no.” With a little cough, Alex cleared his throat. “I don’t think she thought I was a charity case or anything. I think she was just being nice. You know, for old times’ sake.”
I could take a chance and guess what he was getting at, but let’s face it, there’s not much room for guessing in a murder investigation. I was perfectly within my rights when I blurted out, “You mean you dated Vivien, too?”
Alex didn’t hold the question against me. I mean, not like I figured Levi did when he scowled in my direction. “I’m sorry, I should have explained myself better. I just figured on an island this size, everyone knows everyone else’s business,” Alex said. “Vivien and I, we started seeing each other last fall. Sure, I dated her.”
“You and everyone else.” Yes, I mumbled the words. Yes, Levi still heard them. That would explain the sour face.
“So she liked you.” This came from Hank, and believe me, I wasn’t fooled into thinking he was getting all touchy-feely. This was important information in terms of any motivation or alibi Alex might have, and Alex’s motives and alibi . . . well, they were important to the investigation. Besides, sticking to the facts allowed Hank to sidestep what I think he was worried might turn into another Bea versus Levi smackdown. “She wanted you to have the tools because you were her boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Alex admitted.
“Let me guess—you went out with her twice.”
Alex looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Twice? Why would you—”
“What Ms. Cartwright means . . .” Elbows on knees, Levi leaned forward, but not before he aimed what he thought was a withering look in my direction. He should have known better—I’m a New Yorker. I don’t wither easily. “Vivien . . . er, Ms. Frisk, was known to have had a number of relationships, and some of them didn’t last very long.”
Alex laughed. “I’ll say! And I’m not talking out of school here. I’m not gossiping. Everyone knows that Vivien had that way about her. You know, men just couldn’t resist her.”
“Some men.”
My stage whisper wasn’t lost on Levi. But then, it wasn’t meant to be.
Alex went right on as if I’d never spoken. “I honestly don’t get it. I don’t understand why any man—well, most men, anyway—who dated her even once wouldn’t want to keep dating her. Vivien is . . . well, I guess now I have to say was.” His lips pursed and his eyes lowered, he took a moment to adjust to this new reality, then twitched his shoulders. “Vivien was beautiful. She was funny. She had that certain something, you know? If she was in a room, you wanted to be right there next to her talking to her. If she was dancing, you couldn’t wait to get out on the floor and shake a leg. She was just that kind of woman. So yes, we did go out more than twice. Way more than twice. I liked her.”
Like.
This was a word I had never heard associated with Vivien Frisk.
Not from Levi, even when he admitted he’d been seeing Vivien.
Never from Chandra, that was for sure.
In fact, now that I thought about it, I realized that even Estelle Gregario, though she’d never spoken ill of her niece, had never said a nice thing about her, either.
“It isn’t often that someone speaks so highly of someone they’ve broken up with,” I commented. “If Vivien was so wonderful—”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong!” Alex laughed. “Vivien could be a handful. The woman had an ego the size of Texas! But you’re wrong about me breaking up with her. Vivien, she dumped me.”
“And still, you’re so pleasant about the whole thing.”
It would have been a benign sort of comment if Levi or I had made it. Coming from Hank, Alex paid a little more attention. He cleared his throat.
“You’re asking me if I was angry.”
It wasn’t a question, but Hank gave him plenty of time to answer.
When Alex finally did, he added a shrug. “I guess I was,” he admitted. “At first. I thought everything was going pretty well between us. And then one day, Vivien told me she didn’t want to see me anymore.”
“Did she say why?” I asked him.
Another shrug didn’t fool me. There was more to the story than Alex was willing to talk about.
Hank didn’t miss it, either. “This is a murder investigation, Mr. Canfield,” he reminded Alex. “If there’s anything you know . . .”
He sighed. “She told me she’d met someone else. She said he was the love of her life.”
Once a fiction writer, always a fiction writer, and in addition to maybe helping with a murder investigation, these were the sorts of details that always whetted my appetite when it came to devising stories and understanding motivations.
Everybody’s motivations.
“I don’t suppose this was last spring?” I asked. “I don’t suppose she threw you over for some bar owner who—”
“Oh, come on!” Levi groaned. “You don’t go out twice with some guy you know from around town and decide he’s the love of your life. At least most women don’t. So just forget about it, okay? It’s not important. It was never important. It was coffee.”
“And dinner,” I reminded him.
The noise he made from deep in his throat reminded me of the thunder that rumbles out over the lake when a storm rolls in from Canada. “And dinner. Okay. Coffee once. And dinner once. But I guarantee you, Vivien sure didn’t break off a long-term relationship with Alex just to have coffee with me.”
He had a point.
Rather than admit it, I turned back to Alex, “Did she say who that other man was?”
Alex frowned. “She never mentioned a name. And honestly, I never asked. I didn’t want to know. You know, once you do, you start comparing yourself to that other person. That’s never healthy.”
He couldn’t have known how spot-on the comment was. I started a mental list:
Vivien Frisk:
A little older than me, and Levi, too, for that matter, but that didn’t make much of a difference. Vivien was lively, flirty, and more worried about her makeup and her wardrobe than she’d ever been about her business practices. People noticed her—even people who didn’t agree with her questionable ethics—and being the center of attention was what Vivien was all about.
Bea Cartwright:
Way more accomplished, and I’m not just saying that because I need the ego boost. I was a bestselling author. I’d had movies made from my books, and a TV series, and heck, even a Broadway musical that had won
more than a few awards. I’d chucked over the limelight in the name of finding some peace and quiet, and I’d hidden my true identity from even my closest friends until I’d been outed thanks to Levi, hiding behind glasses I didn’t need and afraid to let the real me shine through, because if I did, I’d be besieged by fans and hangers-on, as I had been back in New York.
Of course men were attracted to Vivien Frisk.
She might be sneaky and dishonest.
But at least she wasn’t a phony.
Not like me.
“Vivien, she talked a lot about how she’d never known real love before.”
Alex’s statement snapped me out of my dark thoughts and back to the matter at hand. “So the guy she dumped you for . . .”
“All I know is that he has plenty of money,” Alex said. “Vivien told me that. Maybe that’s why she didn’t want me to pay for the tools. Maybe he was taking care of her and she didn’t have to worry about money anymore.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But you did say this happened in the spring, right? Which means that’s probably when she met this new guy, this love of her life. But that’s the same time—”
“She was seeing me. Yeah, I get it.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess she was hedging her bets. Rightfully so, since I wasn’t interested. And it explains why she didn’t much care when I didn’t want to see her again.”
“What it doesn’t explain . . .” Hank had clearly had enough of this let-it-all-hang-out analysis of Levi’s dating habits. He swiveled in his seat, the better to pin Alex with a look. “It doesn’t explain how you felt when Ms. Frisk broke off your relationship.”
“Like I said”—Alex squirmed in the Chippendale chair—“I was mad. At first. Hey, who wouldn’t be? Things were going well. At least I thought they were. And when she told me it was over, well, it knocked me for a loop. She kicked me to the curb.”
“But then . . .” I met Alex’s glance.
“Then I found out I had never known what real love was, either. See, once I stopped seeing Vivien, I met someone else, and I’ve never been happier. That’s what made me realize that getting dumped by Vivien . . . well, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“So you’re not still angry at her?” I asked.
“You mean, did I kill her?” As if the very idea struck a nerve, Alex winced, and when he spoke, his voice was clogged with emotion. “Like I told you, I liked Vivien, and you know, I was sitting down there, downstairs”—he glanced toward the closed office door—“and I was thinking about how the whole thing doesn’t feel real. Vivien dead? It’s like someone told me the sun has stopped shining. But once I let the horrible reality seep in . . .” He shifted in his seat.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Alex said. “And I don’t think any of you will be surprised when I tell you that Zane Donahue killed Vivien.”
“You have proof?” Hank asked.
Alex instantly shook his head. “Do I need any? Come on, we all know that the two of them . . .” He puffed out a breath. “It was one of the things Vivien talked about. A lot. No matter how often we were together or what we were doing, the subject of Zane always seemed to come up.”
Hank made note of it. “Because . . .”
“Because he’s a lunatic,” Alex told us. “Because she was afraid of him. Poor Vivien! All she ever did was sell the guy a house.”
“She didn’t disclose the burial mound,” I reminded Alex.
“Except she did.” He looked from one of us to the other. “What kind of person do you think Vivien was?” Fortunately, Alex didn’t give us time to answer. He went right on. “She told me the whole story. How Donahue saw the property and fell in love with it. He told her right then and there that he was planning a swimming pool, and she told him there was no way it was ever going to happen.”
“That’s not what Zane Donahue says,” Hank reminded him.
Alex frowned. “Of course it isn’t. Of course he’d lie about it. Zane Donahue thinks he’s God’s gift to the island. Like all his good looks and all his money and all his swagger can get him whatever he wants. But the truth of it is, he changed his mind about the house after all the papers were signed. Some other property came up for sale. Some bigger house with a better view. He wanted to get out of the deal and buy the other house. He was looking for a way out, and he glommed on to the story about the Indian mound. I’ll tell you what, hearing his lies spread all around town, it broke Vivien’s heart. And then when he took her to court, well, that’s when things really started to get ugly.”
I could have asked, but I knew this was Hank’s territory, so I let him go right ahead. “Ugly how?”
“Threats,” Alex said. “Angry phone calls. Public scenes. You all heard what happened at the memorial service yesterday, right?” Of course he knew we had, so he didn’t bother to give us time to respond. “Who does that to a woman in mourning? Who creates that sort of scene? I only wish I didn’t have to work and I had been there. I would have popped Zane Donahue right in the nose. The man doesn’t have a decent bone in his body. I’m telling you, if you need a suspect, Zane Donahue is your man. He killed her. I’m sure he killed her.”
“Did you ever hear any of these threats yourself?” Hank asked him.
Alex thought about it for a moment. “Well, there was one time this past winter when Vivien and I were out for dinner. We were just leaving the restaurant as Donahue was coming in. Really, if I’d seen him there at the door, I would have waited to leave until he was seated. Or taken Vivien around the back and out another door. I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t quick enough. And before I knew what was happening, there he was, right up in Vivien’s face.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
Alex wrinkled his nose. “He was grumbling. Talking low. You know, like somebody does when they’re making a threat. So everything he said . . . I don’t know. But I did hear one thing clearly. I heard him say that whatever happened to Vivien, she deserved it.”
As if he remembered hearing about the incident from Vivien, Hank nodded. “She filed a report.”
“And couldn’t sleep for days, poor dear.” A muscle jumped at the base of Alex’s jaw. “She was just that upset.”
Believe me, I wasn’t making light of the incident. Back in New York, I’d once had a stalker; I knew these kinds of things were serious, and that they could escalate. Still, I had to point out the obvious fact. “That was an awfully long time ago.”
“There have been other threats since then,” Alex said. “Vivien told me. It was always the same sort of thing from Donahue. He’d see her down at the marina or in the park or somewhere around town and he’d say things like ‘You’d better watch out.’ Or ‘You don’t know who you’re messing with.’ Or ‘You’ll be sorry.’ I don’t have one little bit of doubt. Zane Donahue killed Vivien.”
“Maybe,” Hank conceded. “Maybe not. You can be sure we’ll check on Mr. Donahue’s whereabouts this evening.” His gaze flickered briefly to mine. “In the meantime, I still have to ask . . .” Hank got ready to write down the answer. “Where were you this afternoon, Mr. Canfield?”
“You mean before I got over here? Well, of course that’s what you mean. You’re looking for an alibi, aren’t you? It’s just like on those cop shows on TV—only this, this is real. And it feels weird.” A shiver snaked over Alex’s shoulders.
“I was home. All day,” he said. “I’m a bartender over at the Yardarm and I’ve got the late shift tonight. I had lunch and took a nap and I didn’t get out of bed until about an hour before I came over here.”
“Can anyone verify that?” Hank wanted to know.
“Absolutely. That new love of my life I mentioned earlier? We weren’t out of each other’s sight, not since we both got in from work last night. We were together all day.”
“I’ll need a name,” Hank said. “And
a phone number. I’ll need to talk to her.”
“Him.” Alex’s grin said it all. “Told you I had something of a revelation once Vivien was out of the picture. And I have her to thank for it. If she’d never dumped me, I wouldn’t have met John and realized I’d been hiding my true self all these years. I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now. So you see . . .” He stood and took a piece of paper off the desk so he could scrawl a phone number. “John’s cell,” he explained, handing the paper to Hank. “He’ll tell you we were together and that will prove I didn’t kill Vivien, right? Really, I had no reason to kill her. Thanks to her, I’m a very happy man. Can I . . . can I go to work now?”
Hank told him he could, and once Alex was out of the room, he grumbled, “We’re getting nowhere fast.”
“We’ve got Cody,” I reminded him. And then, before he could say something crazy about Chandra, I added, “And it sure sounds like Zane Donahue has motive.”
“Motive isn’t proof.” Hank scraped a hand through his buzz cut hair. “And heck, if none of that stuff about the burial mound is true to begin with . . .” he said a single word under his breath and though I didn’t catch it, I could well imagine what it was. “I’ve got people to talk to, and plenty of sorting out to do.”
“And don’t forget the Twins,” I reminded him.
Hank waved a hand. “They just moved here. What do they know?”
“Vivien sold them Tara,” I reminded him. “And you know Vivien—maybe she was lying to Alex about how she told Zane all about the burial mound.” Neither Hank nor Levi disputed that this was a possibility. But then, they’d both known Vivien. One of them better than the other. “If Zane Donahue is telling the truth and Vivien really did swindle him, maybe the Twins have some complaint against her, too. Maybe—”
My phone rang and I didn’t get the chance to finish.
I answered, and it took just about three seconds of listening before my heart jumped into my throat and I jumped out of my chair.