Cro-Magnon managed to cock his head without moving his bulging neck. “She works in the spa over there.”
“Thanks, dude,” Deena offered. “Maybe you can find a good tailor to sew that up.” She walked off before witnessing what she imagined was a confused hulk who hadn’t yet mastered language.
As they crossed the great divide between the gym and the spa, Deena sucked in the cool, fresh scent of lavender. The trickling of a water fountain and soft string music made her want to slip into a warm bath. No one was at the counter, so she tinkled the small brass bell.
Layla Baxter floated around the corner, a warm smile frozen on her face. Her midnight-blue bodysuit was embellished with a rhinestone belt that accentuated her tiny waist. Her dark hair was pulled high up in a ponytail like Cyndi Lauper used to wear.
Judging from the look on Guttman’s face, the tightly wound detective had turned into a puddle of goo.
“Hi,” he said, like a thirteen-year-old boy looking at his first set of ta-tas.
“Hello. How can I help you?” The words came out of her mouth like honey on a biscuit. She hadn’t even acknowledged Deena.
Deena broke the spell. “Howdy, Layla. How’s it hangin’?”
Layla turned to Deena. “Oh, hi again, Mrs. Sharpe. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Deena stiffened. “What do you mean? I work out. Sometimes.”
“I just meant that the last time I saw you was at the winery. Now you’re here.”
“Oh. I see what you mean.” Deena looked back at Guttman, who still had a goofy schoolboy grin. “This is Detective Guttman. We wanted to ask you a few questions about Andrew Granger.”
“A detective?” Her dark eyes narrowed. “Now? I just started this job. I don’t know if I can—”
“It will only take a few minutes.” Guttman was back. “Is there somewhere more private we could talk?”
Layla glanced up at the clock. “I guess I could spare a few minutes.” They followed her back to a small, sparsely furnished office. “I told Officer Hitchcock everything I know about Drew’s death. What else do you want to know?”
Guttman took out a pad and pen.
Deena did the same. “By the way, I’m a reporter for the Tribune. Anything you say can and will...uh...be used in the newspaper.” She made a mental note to work on a better intro line.
Guttman slapped on his stern investigator face. “What was your relationship to Andrew Granger?”
“He was my employer. I worked as a bookkeeper at Granger’s Grapes.”
He made a note. “Is that all?”
“You mean was I banging the boss?” She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Not hardly. I have a boyfriend. He’s the jealous type.”
Deena wasn’t satisfied that this workout wonder woman was all she professed to be. Something about her was too perfect. “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been fiddling around on more than one violin.”
Guttman shot Deena an odd glance.
“You know what I mean,” she said to Layla.
“I’m very loyal. One man. At least only one at a time, that is.” She winked at Guttman.
He cleared his throat. “Did Mr. Granger ever flirt with you? Could he have in any way assumed there was a relationship between you two? Perhaps only in his imagination?”
Deena wondered if Guttman was speaking from experience.
Again with the sultry smile. Layla practically purred. “Detective, I’m sure there are many men who have imagined having a relationship with me. But I can assure you, Drew wasn’t one of them. If anything, he was more like a brother.”
Guttman didn’t bite this time. He spoke in his sternest Joe Friday tone. “Where were you on the night of the murder?”
Unfazed, Layla met his stare with her own. “I was here from six until about nine o’clock. I teach yoga. I had two classes back-to-back.”
“Any witnesses who can verify that?” Guttman asked.
“Yeah. About forty of them. Maybe more. People in the gym tend to notice me.” She smirked this time.
The door opened, and Marcus, the Treadmill Torturer from Deena’s previous visit, burst in. “Is this guy bothering you?”
“A little,” Layla said calmly.
That’s when Deena noticed Layla was holding a cell phone in her lap. She must have sent out a bat signal.
Then Marcus turned to Deena. “Hey, aren’t you the woman who almost passed out on the treadmill the other day? You’re Gary’s old lady.”
Ouch. That stung. “This is Detective Guttman from the Maycroft Police Department.”
Guttman rose from his seat and attempted to puff out his chest. At fifty pounds lighter than Marcus, the intimidation factor flew out the window.
Marcus did that side-to-side muscle bulge with his chest. “What do you want with my girlfriend, mister?”
“Just want to ask her a few questions about her boss’s murder. Seems kind of fishy that she left her job there to come work here so soon after someone put a bullet in his head, don’t you think?”
Marcus took a step forward. “No, I don’t think.”
“That’s not surprising.” Guttman pulled back his jacket and put his hand on his narrow hip, revealing his weapon and badge.
“Look, pretty boy, you may have a gun, but my guns are bigger and just as deadly.” He curled up his arm to show off a bulging bicep.
“Are you threatening me?” Guttman put his hand on his revolver.
Deena stepped between the two men. “Come on, fellas. Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill.” As she pulled Guttman into the hallway, he kept his eyes locked on Marcus’s. “If we have any more questions, we’ll be back.”
Once they were safely outside in the parking lot, Guttman let out a deep breath. “I should arrest that guy.”
“For what? Defending his girlfriend? You should be flattered that he felt threatened by you.” Deena got in the car. “You heard him call you ‘pretty boy.’ You should take that as a compliment. At least he didn’t refer to you as somebody’s ‘old lady.’”
Guttman started up the car and sped out of the parking lot.
Deena waited a few minutes for him to get his emotions under control. When he had slowed down and actually stopped at a yellow traffic light, she asked, “What is your take on Layla Baxter? Is she the jealous, jilted lover we are looking for?”
“Doesn’t seem to be. Got any other leads?”
“Not yet. I’ll call Vera again to see if she knows of anyone we might want to question.” Deena’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hi. This is Nina. I’m heading to Dallas in a while to catch a flight back to Nevada. Just thought I’d say goodbye.”
“So soon? What about your brother’s will?”
“Eric Lyons said it’s going to take a while to sort things out. No reason to hang around here.”
Deena looked at her watch. “I’m just a few blocks away from the Wisteria Inn. At least let me come by to properly see you off.”
Nina agreed and mentioned that Mrs. Swanson had whipped up some delicious peanut butter and banana quesadillas. Deena’s mouth watered just thinking about them.
Before getting into her own car, Deena promised to call Guttman as soon as she’d gotten in touch with Vera.
He seemed more than happy for her to take off as soon as they got back to the station. From what Deena could tell, he needed more time to heal his bruised ego.
Chapter 31
“I’m sure going to miss this mild Texas weather,” Nina said as she sat across from Deena in Mrs. Swanson’s kitchen, sipping hot tea. “Where I live in the mountains, there’s already been five inches of snow.”
Mrs. Swanson’s round body and warm smile moved around the kitchen with surprising quickness for someone her size. She was delighted to be serving another guest. “Coffee or tea?” she asked Deena.
“Whatever’s easiest.”
“I know,” she said and snapped her fingers. “I’ll make some of my famou
s hot chocolate you like so much. I remember the way you slurped it down and gobbled up those muffins when I served it at the church’s Christmas luncheon.” She fluttered about the kitchen like a busy bee.
Nina grinned and added warm honey to the already rich quesadillas. “I bet I’ve gained ten pounds since I’ve been here.”
Deena tried to eat slowly now that she knew she had a reputation as a slurper and a gobbler. Still, she couldn’t resist Mrs. Swanson’s home cooking. “What are your plans now?”
“I’ve made a decision. I’m filing for divorce from Woody Davenport and taking back my last name. I waited too long to reconcile with my brother and father, but I want to carry on the Granger name.”
“Does that mean I should call you Edwina?” Deena licked honey from her fingers.
“Heavens, no. I’ve always hated that name.”
“I think that’s wonderful. It’s about time you moved on. Will you be moving back to Maycroft after things have settled down?”
“Absolutely not,” she said. “Nothing personal, but I love my job at the boys ranch. It’s the first time I’ve found true purpose in my life. I can’t wait to get back there.”
Deena nodded. “But what about the family business? I mean, we still don’t know what happened to Drew.” She glanced sideways at Mrs. Swanson, not knowing how much she should say in front of her.
Nina picked up on the cue. “Oh, don’t worry about Norma. I’ve told her every ugly detail.”
Norma Swanson’s ears perked up. She stirred the saucepan as she spoke. “Plus, I’ve been reading about the case in the newspaper. Will you put my name in one of your articles? After all, I was hosting the ‘real’ Nina Davenport. Don’t think everyone in the Bluebonnet Club isn’t going to hear about it.”
“No doubt.” Deena was delighted to hear someone talking about her stories. “Just wait until tomorrow’s edition. I’ve got all kinds of new details to share.”
Nina sat back. “Do you really think Allison killed my brother? I’d hate to think his life was cut short by someone he cared about.”
“No, and I don’t think the police do either. Right now, they’re looking for a mistress or old girlfriend. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you?”
“Not hardly. Besides the obvious lack of contact, I can’t remember Drew even looking at another woman before Allison.”
Mrs. Swanson served the hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows and two pieces of graham crackers. “There you go, dear. I call it S’mores in a Cup.”
The rich chocolate aroma filled Deena’s senses. “Do you mix dark and milk chocolate in this recipe? I also smell a hint of almond bark. Is that what makes it so rich?”
“Why, yes!” Norma Swanson beamed. “You’re the first person who ever noticed.”
Deena took a gulp of the warm brew, quickly wiping away the marshmallow mustache. “Take that, Lonnie Fisher! I told him I knew my chocolate.”
Nina glanced at her watch. “I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon, but you know how Dallas traffic is.” She stood up. “Thank you for everything, Norma. I promise I’ll stay here again if I have to come back.”
“If,” Deena said. “Don’t you mean when you come back? If you inherit the winery, there will be a lot to take care of, right?”
“We’ll see. I’m trying not to live that far in the future anymore. I want to live in the present and see what tomorrow holds when it gets here.” Nina gave Norma a big hug and picked up her bag.
Deena followed her outside to the car. “You have my number. Call if you need anything.”
“I will,” Nina said as she hugged Deena’s neck. “I’ll be following the news on the Tribune’s website.” She got in the car and rolled down the window. “You know, this trip has been very enlightening. Even though my brother is gone, I feel like being back in this town helped me to understand him a little bit better.”
“I’m glad.” Deena stepped back from the car.
As Nina started to roll up the window, she stopped. “You know, until he married Allison, I always assumed my brother was gay.” Then she drove off, leaving Deena to gobble down this new bit of information.
* * *
HOW COULD NINA THINK her brother was gay? After all, he had been happily married. Well, maybe not happily. There was the mysterious “queen” they were searching for.
Queen?
Deena pictured the two photographs that had been prominently displayed in Drew’s office. One was of him and Allison. The other...
Oh my gosh! She ran back inside to grab her handbag. “Norma, I have to go. Something’s come up.” Before the woman could respond, Deena was out the door and racing toward the police station.
It had been Lonnie Fisher all along. How had she missed the signs? The gold ring on his right hand. His flimsy alibi about going to Dallas and missing his usual Thursday night card game at Drew’s house.
And the note. No wonder Lonnie had it. Drew must have left it for him at the winery on the day he died. Drew was breaking up with Lonnie because Allison told him he was about to become a father. That also explained his lack of interest in his bombshell bookkeeper.
Deena pulled into a visitor’s spot at the police station and went in to see Guttman. In her head, she was writing the lead for her next story: “Winery Owner’s Partner Arrested for Murder.”
Chapter 32
Deena called Dan when she got home and laid out all the details of the story. He told her he would be saving the entire front page for her. He’d send a photographer out to Granger’s Grapes to get some shots.
Unfortunately, she’d have to change the story’s lead. As it turned out, Layla wasn’t the only one who had quit the business. According to Vera, Lonnie Fisher had turned in a brief resignation letter, cleared out his office, and hadn’t been seen or heard from since the previous day. Guttman put an APB out for him.
News story, news story, Deena thought as she anxiously read over her notes. Most important facts to least important.
By this time, everything was on the record. She glanced down at Hurley, who was curled up under the last bit of sunlight streaming through the window of her home office. Gary had texted that he’d be late getting home. Actually, that was fine with Deena. She needed time to hash out her story.
But it was quiet, and for a moment she thought about poor Allison Granger. Regardless of her strained relationship with her husband, she had gone from married to widowed in the blink of an eye. Deena couldn’t bear the thought of being alone without Gary. She wanted to call him. Should she warn him about Lonnie? No, by now Guttman would have sent an officer out to interview Vera again and everyone would be watching out for Lonnie. Guttman said Lonnie had probably run off to Mexico or South America by now.
As she settled in to concentrate on the story, the words began to flow like water from a fountain. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she got into the zone. Like an athlete hyper focused on winning at any cost, the words came to her as though she’d written this story before. Maybe she had...in her mind, anyway.
About halfway through, she stopped to call Eric Lyons for a quote about Allison’s arrest. Hopefully, the district attorney would drop the charges. Small towns didn’t have the resources to try little indiscretions when a homicide case would soon be on the docket.
Lyons was out of the office, probably meeting with the DA. Deena left a message. As she hung up the phone, the sound of shattering glass made her jump and Hurley started barking.
“Gary?” The loud noise seemed to have come from the den. She got up from her chair just as Lonnie Fisher appeared in the doorway.
“Mrs. Sharpe, why don’t you sit back down. I was hoping we could talk.”
Deena clapped her hands, and Hurley jumped into her lap. She could feel the thumping of her heart against his body as she clutched him to her chest.
“This is a lovely room,” Lonnie noted as though he had dropped by for a cup of tea.
“They’re looking for you,” Deena s
aid. “The police.” That’s when she noticed the wine bottle in Lonnie’s hand. It had been hidden at first behind his trench coat.
“That’s not surprising. I knew it was just a matter of time.” He uncorked the bottle and took a swig.
“Here to give me a wine tasting lesson?” She hoped her light tone would keep him calm.
“No, although you could definitely use it.” Several drops of blood dripped from a small gash on his hand.
“You’re bleeding. Let me get a bandage.”
“I’ll be fine. That little bit of blood will be nothing compared to...” He sank into the chair by the window, the one Gary always sat in when he came home to find Deena working.
She searched her brain for the location of her cell phone. She had left it in her handbag on the entry table when she came home. Maybe she could send a message on her computer. She glanced at the Word document on her screen. She tried keeping it casual. “Gary will be home soon.”
“It’ll take him a while to get here. Those auditors mean business.” He took another drink. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red. He’d been drinking a long time.
Maybe Deena could use Hurley as cover and reach for the desk phone without him noticing. If he was this drunk, his reactions might be slowed. She lifted her hand slowly just as Hurley jumped to the floor.
“I can see you’re nervous. Don’t be. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“No? Then do you mind if I make a call?”
That’s when he pulled out a gun. “It’s too late for that.” He looked down at the pistol. “I bet you’re wondering if this is the gun I used to shoot Drew.”
She steadied her breath, hoping to buy some time. “It’s not. The police have that one. It was left at the scene.”
“Very good. It belonged to Drew. Although that stupid cop didn’t even know that when he staged everything to look like a suicide. Imagine my surprise when I found out they’d closed the case. I was off the hook.” There was the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “But then you wrote that article questioning the investigation and opened up the whole can of worms.” He balanced the gun on one leg while he finished off the wine.
Stay Sharpe Box Set Page 30