by Wendy Byrne
By the time we arrived, a little more than an hour later, the sun had already started to set, and the ladies were in full chatter mode, strategizing and hypothesizing what might happen tonight. The scenarios ran the gamut from Cindy confessing to coming after us with one of the prop knives and everything in between. I'd settle for something a little less dramatic.
We were early for the performance, just as I had planned. Not only did I want to secure a good seat, I also wanted the opportunity to do a little snooping to see if we spotted any changes since the last time we'd been there.
While the ladies took the opportunity to refresh themselves with the complementary iced tea, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, which I used as cover for my expedition. The place might have been converted to this playhouse about twenty years ago, as much of the details were dated and worn. It looked like there was a dressing room on the left where I heard people rehearsing lines and chatting.
Nobody seemed to pay any attention to me as I meandered around the back. In fact, I was greeted with smiles and acknowledgements along the way. The boxes we'd spotted the other day were still stacked against the wall. But this time, I took notice of the moving company name on the boxes.
The box that Lori had been stuffed in had the same kind of markings—3MD Moving and Storage. My heart rate sped up as the possibilities of suspects narrowed considerably with the discovery.
Could this have been the location of the actual murder? While kind of morbid to consider, it made a whole lot of sense. And did I share this intel with Chaz? I probably should because he could get one of those lights that could see if any blood residue had been cleaned up.
As I mulled through the possibilities, I ran into the Qs who handed me a cup filled with iced tea. I filled them in on the box situation, causing all manner of excitement emanating from the Qs that I struggled to quell.
"Let's get to our seats, and we can discuss these developments later." Surprisingly, they went along with my suggestion.
The crowd inside seemed to be bigger than I would have anticipated given the population in the area. As morbid as it sounded, I figured part of the increased interest had to do with Lori's murder. Hanging around the Qs for a while now, I knew that death was a curiosity to a lot of people.
By the time the play started, I began to worry about combining a combustible Cindy with the curiosity of the Qs. No one would call the ladies predictable even on a good day. My plan was to be proactive wherever I could to keep things from heading south.
The play about blackmail and murder seemed fitting, considering the circumstances. Except that in The Gazebo, the story evolved into a case of mistaken identity. Somehow, I didn't think that would happen in the circumstances surrounding Lori's murder.
The lights flashed a couple of times, signaling the production was about to begin. A twinge of nervous energy had me fidgeting in my seat. Someone made an announcement about Lori's untimely death and asked for a moment of silence that lasted about ten seconds before chatting began. I guess it was the thought that counted.
Despite any preconceived notions I might have had, I found myself getting engrossed in Cindy's portrayal of Nell Nash. In terms of a theater production in a converted schoolhouse building in the middle of nowhere Iowa, it was pretty good. Cindy would never make it on Broadway, but not many people would. Interestingly enough, she had that red bandana scarf around her neck, further validating she was the same woman I'd seen at the funeral service for Lori.
I had to come up with a plausible reason to talk to her while still keeping the Qs out of the loop. They'd be disappointed they wouldn't be able to pepper her with questions, but I had to think about their safety first. Based on gossip and what I'd seen at the funeral, Cindy was unpredictable. I didn't want the Qs to get into the middle of something that would put them at risk.
While I calculated how to balance that tightrope, the actors finished. The crowd stood and applauded. A few moments later, the actors came out for an encore bow and mentioned more refreshments and sweets in the back.
Wahoo—my built-in distraction. That's all the Qs needed to hear. Sweets were their kryptonite.
"I'm going to try to talk to Cindy while they're serving the cake and coffee. I need you ladies to keep an eye out for anything unusual. While she's our suspect, that doesn't mean there aren't other people here who might be suspects as well. Make sure you're hyper-vigilant. You're my eyes and ears."
"In other words, you need us to butt out," Alice said with a chuckle. Although she saw through my BS, at least she wasn't offended. And neither were the others based on their smiles.
"She's hitting the snack table now, so I'm in the wind," I said before walking over as quickly as I could without causing a stir. I felt the gaze of the Qs glued to my back—like a grandmotherly force field of protection—as I headed that way. I cut in line so I could get right behind Cindy in order to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately, she was absorbed in a heated discussion with the male lead in the play, something to do with upstaging her. Another guy wearing a backwards baseball cap and jeans walked up and grumbled at her to simmer down. Surprisingly, she complied.
She was taller than me and also looked stronger and meaner up close than she had on stage. Somehow, I had to get her to warm up to me.
It was probably too much to expect her to confess. But maybe I could trip her up, especially if I started with a little fawning.
"You did a great job as Nell Nash," I murmured as I grabbed a piece of coffee cake. Flattery would be the path of least resistance.
"Do I know you?" Still in overdone makeup and wearing that red scarf around her neck and a fifties-style skirt, her paranoia-laced tone scared me a bit. While her expression said don't bother me, that didn't stop me from pursuing the information I needed. "You look familiar. Are you from Winterset?" I hesitated while I struggled with how to walk that balance between explaining my presence without giving up too much information. "I spotted the flyer, and it piqued my interest. I've always loved going to the theater." Which was completely factual. I'd seen Hamilton a half dozen times and would go back again if I were still living in Manhattan. That meant one less lie I needed to worry about. I tended to trip myself up when I started lying.
She pointed her finger toward me as her mouth twisted into a very unattractive grimace. "Your picture was in the paper. You found Lori's body."
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. "Yeah, poor thing. I understand she was also involved in community theater. Did you know her?" Nerves made it harder for me to school my expression and disguise my shadiness.
"You don't want to know what I think about that low down, no good, scum of a man stealer," she uttered through clenched teeth. "And if you're defending her, you need to have your own head—" She stopped talking and glanced at the door. I was afraid to turn around lest she stab me in the back when I looked away.
The intensity of her glare made me believe something bad was headed my way. The spidey-sense, as I called it, had me moving away from her, while I ached to stay put and probe a little more.
Somebody grasped my arm, and I drew it back. "There, there, Ms. Lewis. What are you so jumpy about? I'm not here to arrest you." The voice of Chaz Begay lit up every nerve in my body and not in a good way. I didn't have to turn around to know he was angry. Real angry, if I had to guess. "Although, maybe I should."
Whatever.
Despite self-preservation screaming at me to go hide in the nearest corner, I turned and gave him my scathing look that was a cross between bored and annoyed. "I'm sorry. Is there some kind of law against going to community theater in Iowa? That's the only reason the ladies and I are here." That last bit sounded a bit like overkill, but I'd roll with it.
"Riiiiight." He drew out the word and did a noncommittal nod. "I'm sure, coming from New York, you're itching for some really good drama and musicals and maybe some mystery, based on your curious choice."
Cindy tugged on her brother's arm. "What are you trying to say, Chaz
? That I suck?"
He huffed and pulled her into a hug. "Of course not. Why do you think I'm here in the first place? I came to see you."
"Then why are you so mad? I practically raised you," she said, hands placed on her hips.
He rolled his eyes. "You're ten years older than me, so let's keep it real here."
I had to admit I was enjoying the sibling drama, especially the part where it kept the heat off me for the time being. Maybe I should make a quick getaway while I could. I started to sidestep to do exactly that, but he grabbed onto my forearm.
He got so close to my cheek that I could smell a hint of peppermint mixed with coffee on his breath. "Do not interfere with this investigation. I don't want to hear you talked to somebody or did anything to mess with what I've been sworn to do, or I will charge you. You got that?"
Despite the gravelly tone to his voice, I refused to be intimidated. "Don't you think you should recuse yourself? Your sister is one of the suspects. That seems like it would be a slam dunk for a good defense attorney should you decide to prosecute Gus." Because of the daggers shooting from his eyes trying to intimidate me, I doubled down. "I'm not an attorney, but I could see that as cause to vacate any conviction in this case." That was as close to lawyer-speak as I could muster.
Based on the way his jaw flexed, I must have hit a nerve. He glanced around briefly before he moved in closer. "I'll deny I ever said this if it comes to that, but my sister has always been what you might call emotionally fragile. But that doesn't mean she killed Lori."
"How can you be objective if she's your sister?"
"Because I'm a professional, that's how."
"I don't dispute that, but you're human. You love your sister. If I had a sibling, I'm pretty sure I'd feel the same way. So I get that part. In this case, you can't see the forest for the trees. She's got you wrapped around her finger and knows it. I'm not sure if its guilt or just sibling stuff, but she's bamboozled you." I lowered my voice and whispered, "Right now she's looking at me like she wants to tear me up." And I wasn't kidding. There was the evil eye and then there was the temperament and body language to go along with it. "That's not normal."
"She spent her early life on the reservation living in a trailer with a leaky roof, no heat, and barely anything to eat. By the time I was born, my mother had remarried, and life was a lot easier. She has some anger issues, but she's not physically violent."
"I feel like you're trying to convince yourself, not me." I moved in closer. "Is it a coincidence there are boxes in the back with logo from the same moving company that Lori's body was found in?"
"You mean 3MD?" He smiled and shook his head. "They're the only moving company for a couple hundred miles. No doubt half the town has boxes with their name on them."
"Do you think Lori was killed here and loaded onto that truck?" As long as he was talking shop, I thought I should get as much information as I could. "Maybe you should use one of those black lights to see if you find any blood residue."
"Not that it's any of your business, but I already did that. There was blood residue, but it turned out to be from an accident during rehearsal. And, before you ask, it wasn't Lori's blood type anyway."
Before I could respond, Cindy called him. "Chaz, are you going to let this skinny broad harass me?"
At least she called me skinny.
"You had a great night tonight. Let's celebrate," he said.
Before he could skirt her away from me, she said. "Too bad you fell out of Clark Tower the other day." The smile on her face told me otherwise.
Before I knew it, she'd left, and the Qs came rushing over to get the scoop on what had happened between Chaz and me. After I filled them in, exhaustion set in with a vengeance. It had been a grueling couple of days.
"Ladies, I think we need to revisit this in the morning. For right now, she's number one on my top list of suspects."
* * *
After tossing and turning all night, I was surprised to hear a knock on my door around eight a.m. I couldn't imagine who it was at this early hour but got the answer seconds later.
"It's Nate. We need to talk."
Crap. Those four words always spelled trouble for me.
I opened the door and plastered a fake smile on my face. Would it be too much to ask that he brought me some coffee along with his no doubt bad news? Who am I kidding? I'd be lucky if he didn't arrest me.
He did give me a cup of coffee when he entered, and I resisted kissing him. Barely. Maybe this visit wasn't as bad as I thought. Then again, maybe it was worse than I thought if he felt the need to bribe me first.
I took the cup and sucked in the brew. Based on the look on his face, he was buttering me up. "I know what you're going to say, so spit it out, Nate."
He nodded. "I got a call this morning from—"
"Detective Begay." I felt compelled to say it before he did. "Right?"
"You admit you shouldn't have done it?" His eyebrows rose as he looked at me and gave me the patented cop stare.
"I didn't do anything except go to a play. It's not my fault Chaz's sister is a bit of a looney toon. The play was—"
He held up his hands. "Leave it. Do not interfere with police business either here or in Winterset. Chaz does not play. He will put you in jail if you try another stunt like that." He drew in a deep breath, and I prepared for the worst. "They've issued a warrant for Gus's arrest. He hasn't reported to his parole officer, and he's gone underground."
I nodded, feeling the gravity of Gus's predicament to my very soul. To think that I was the only one who believed in him made me feel both sad and foolish simultaneously. It was nice to know the Qs had my back in this, but was I leading them down a path that only led to disappointment?
"Duly noted." As he walked to the door, I said, "Did you get any hits on Joseph's stay in Iowa City?"
"Nope, not one."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I promised Nate I wouldn't look into Lori's murder," I announced as I walked into Viola's house about an hour after he'd left. Yes, I felt like a sellout, but he guilt-ed me into complying. I wasn't all that sure how long I'd last but was willing to give the safe route a try at least for a little while.
"You do know there's an arrest warrant out for Gus right now, and he's in the wind," Viola said.
I swallowed back the guilt. I hated to give up on Gus, but maybe Nate was right. He wouldn't have run if he weren't guilty. And why wasn't he responding to my voicemails or texts? The likelihood that he didn't disappear voluntarily became more of a possibility from my perspective.
"Nate mentioned something about that." While I had doubts, part of me couldn't back down completely. Since moving to Iowa, I'd become a new woman. I just needed a little breathing space from Chaz for the time being. And also some time to process what I'd learned so far. Cleaning the mystery palate seemed the way to go right now.
"I was thinking about going to Iowa City to try to find Joseph. He couldn't have walked or taken a bus all the way there from the accident site, so theoretically he might not have been in the car when the man was hit. I know that Nate checked the hotels, but I feel responsible for kicking him out the other night. And I guess I should be the tiniest bit worried about him."
"It's obvious Joseph's in some trouble. He might need our help. Besides, we'll need something to occupy our time since we're not supposed to help Gus," Ramona said.
"We owe it to our legacy to offer our services to get him out of this pickle," Dolly said.
I figured six months of sleuthing didn't constitute a legacy but would roll with it. No doubt I was trading one kind of crazy for another, but that worked for me. Besides, I was the tiniest bit worried about Joseph. Blood in the car and a mysterious man who ended up dead didn't bode well for him.
I managed to take a giant bite of the gooey goodness offered to me. The burst of sugary cinnamon taste made my mouth water.
I deserved a little comfort food after the last couple of days. And that was my story, and I was stic
king to it.
"Did you bring your nunchucks? We don't leave home without them anymore. It looks like things are heating up around town. We need to be prepared," Alice said.
"We can't figure out how to use them but were going to watch some YouTube videos once you got here," Ramona added. "But now we won't have time."
Most times, I could make them see the error of their ways, but I'd be the first to admit it could be a major chore as well. They were thirsty for excitement. As Jessica Fletcher wannabes, they saw mystery and intrigue around every corner, despite their average eighty years of age. But as I'd learned shortly after meeting them, don't buy into stereotypes.
"First you need to fill us in on what happened and where we should start our investigation."
After I gave them specifics as to everything I knew about Joseph and his visit, Dolly asked, "Where could he be hiding out?"
"He came to my place alone, so I have no idea who this dead guy is or if Nate has figured that out either. I'm not sure who beat the guy up or why, unless it had something to do with the noises I heard the night Joseph came by my place."
"Do you think Joseph beat him up?"
I shook my head. "He's not the type to get violent. But I do wonder if he's been kidnapped." I'd thought a lot about it, and it seemed to be the only explanation. If that weren't true, I couldn't fathom what else was going on.
"Maybe we should call Jefferson and Mason and let them know we're headed their way. They might have some ideas on where somebody might hide out if they landed in Iowa City," Ramona suggested
"He could be dead," Alice said.
I shook my head. "I think he's laying low. He's always been a bit of a chicken." Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Even jerks like him should live if for no other reason than I could see him get slammed by Karma at some point. "I tried calling his cell a couple of times, but he didn't answer."
"Maybe we should go talk to that psychic artist if we're going to Iowa City. She was a hoot at the gallery opening and might be able to give us a lead on Joseph," Alice said.