Vicky frowned. “Well, you did say word about the murder was getting around. If ‘Lisa’ knew she was hiding something, she might just have gotten scared she would be implicated, just because she had lied about her identity. She might have run to be on the safe side. It does not prove she was involved in the murder. We’d have to know her reasons for impersonating somebody first.”
Cash sighed. “Well, let’s hope we find her and can ask her. Until then we have to deal with the facts that we do have.” He looked down at Bella. “You sure you won’t give us anything on the man you fought with?”
Bella shook her head. “Why don’t you pursue the victim? Find out more about who he was and what he wanted. Huh? You are barking up the wrong tree, Sheriff, and are too pigheaded to admit it.”
Vicky saw a wave of blood rise in Cash’s face. He spat, “By insulting me, you’re not making it any better for yourself.”
Bella rose slowly so she could face him on the same level. “You’re tall, Sheriff, and rather sturdy, but you don’t intimidate me. Even if you struck me in the face, I would not give you the name of that man. So drop it.”
Cash was even redder now. “We do not beat our prisoners here!” he yelled.
Turning to Vicky, he added, “Get that woman out of here before I burst a vessel!”
Vicky hastily took Bella’s arm and shepherded her out of the interrogation room into the corridor. “Cash is the sheriff,” she hissed, “and an old friend of mine. Do you really have to antagonize him that way? He has to prove your innocence!”
“I am innocent, Vicky.” Bella held her gaze earnestly. “I know that. Even if nobody in the whole world would believe me, I always know myself. That’s enough.”
And with her head held high she walked to the block with holding cells.
Chapter Ten
“In other words, she behaved like a toddler!” Marge exclaimed as she heard the story. “Why didn’t she try just a little bit harder to convince Cash she had nothing to do with it? He is bound to hate her now and look for ways to keep her in custody.”
“I think Cash will be fair, but Bella’s behavior didn’t help, no.” Vicky sighed. “I don’t understand either. She acts like she doesn’t care.”
Marge tilted her head. “Does she think it’s a great publicity stunt for her latest book? Can the whole thing be a PR game?”
“I don’t think so. It would be a big risk to take.”
“But why doesn’t she just name the guy she fought with? She is suspected of murder! I’d tell them anything, no matter how personal, to acquit myself.” Marge nodded emphatically. “Sorry, but my freedom would be worth everything.”
“Yes, but you’re an ordinary person; she is a celebrity. What if she is worried her fight with the man concerned will be publicized and can be hurtful to other people involved? Suppose it was a married man and people will go assume an affair? The tabloids can turn anything into a big drama. Maybe Bella has already experienced that firsthand and doesn’t want to go through it again. She might believe in the old adage that the less said, the better.”
Marge sighed. “I forgot about that. She must be terrified what the press will do to her. They can be cruel. And I don’t think she has many real friends, not in that scene.”
“I doubt she has any at all. We have to help her to show her we care.”
Marge nodded. She was about to say something, when the store door opened and a woman came in. She had short spiky blonde hair and a tanned face with full red lips. Her trim figure was clad in a denim jacket and red cargo pants. She wore sandals with beaded ribbons. A big red bag dangled from her shoulder. “Hi,” she greeted, pulling off her shades. “Is this the store where the author is doing book signings? The one who is accused of murder? I asked across the road at the uh…place where they sell both hamburgers and live bait?”
She grimaced. “What a combination. But then we are in the middle of nowhere of course.”
She looked around, wrinkling her nose. “You call that British? Soap is more French, right? I was in Marseille once to report on the deplorable conditions workers have to labor under. I do hope you know where your products are coming from and that no child labor was involved?”
Vicky blinked.
“Excuse me,” Marge said, studying the woman as if she was a venomous insect about to strike, “but who are you?”
“Grace Dinks.” The woman extended a hand. “You might have seen me on TV. Or don’t you people have cable out here?”
Marge positively boiled with anger. “We do have cable, but we try to watch good programs. I’m sure that we can spend our time better than by watching whatever slice-m-and-dice-m show you do.”
Grace blinked a moment. A slow smile spread round her lips. “You give me too much credit. I don’t have my own show. Yet.”
Something in her tone suggested that was about to change. Vicky took a deep breath. “But you are a reporter of some kind.”
“Yes. And I’m here to report on the Bella Brookes murder trial.”
“I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself,” Marge said. “There isn’t going to be any trial. Because Bella Brookes didn’t kill anybody.”
“Oh? Were you there? Did you see the murder? Can you finger the killer? I bet you can’t. So you can’t be sure she did not do it.”
Grace looked around again. “This is so fake. I can see you have never been to England before. You watch one BBC costume drama and you think England is embroidered pillows and china with Wills and Kate on it.” She grimaced. “But it’s so much more. The beautiful authentic unspoiled countryside and the—”
“I lived in the UK for ten years,” Vicky said icily. “I was a reporter myself and I have made countless travel programs about that unspoiled countryside you are raving about.”
Grace seemed taken aback for a moment. Then she smiled again. “Touché. I guess I was a little too mean. But this town is so…sweet it’s disgusting. Good that something disastrous happened to shake it up.”
“We had a murder just a few weeks ago,” Marge said, and Grace jumped at it. “Also committed by Bella Brookes?”
“Definitely not. The sheriff caught the culprit. As he will do now and it won’t be Bella.”
“Best friends already, huh?” Grace smiled a shrewd little smile. “Well, let me tell you something about Bella Brookes. She is friends with nobody. She is tough as nails; she chews people out and leaves them behind. She is evil, and I will prove it. I have been following her for some time now. I heard the stories from people who worked for her. She treats them like dirt. ‘Bring me water, not ordinary water, mineral water, and with a straw or my makeup will be ruined.’ She is stuck-up, higher than any spoiled pop star who wants blue-coated candy in her dressing room. It’s great she is accused of murder now and will be stripped naked. I will be enjoying every second of it.”
And Grace Dinks walked out, banging the store’s door shut so hard the bell almost came off the wall.
Vicky released her breath slowly. “That woman is poisonous!”
“She must have some personal mission against Bella,” Marge said. “How else can she be here right after Bella’s arrest and knowing so much? A little too coincidental if you ask me. What if she went to the party and killed that man, to frame Bella?”
“We could find out if she was in town earlier. If she was on Lilian’s guest list. If anybody saw her. She has a look that you can’t miss.” Vicky thought for a moment. “If she is somebody in TV land, Michael will know her. I’m stopping by the Gazette right now to ask him if he does.”
Marge nodded and said she couldn’t wait to hear more about her.
Vicky left the store and walked in the direction of the Gazette’s offices. It was busy all around her. Owners of bookstores and thrift stores from the region manned the One-Mile Book Market stalls, and the crowd shuffling past the offerings consisted of book collectors and book enthusiasts, both from Glen Cove and other towns in the area.
Locals had also pu
t stalls on their driveway offering their own books or book-related items such as cotton book bags with quotes and mottos on them and handcrafted wooden bookends in the shapes of dogs, elephants or owls.
Vicky bought a pair of dog bookends for her mother to take out to her that night. Claire had remained a bit detached yesterday, even over the chocolate fondue, upset that Vicky didn’t want to refrain from sleuthing. A cute gift might help to smooth things over.
Tourists walked or cycled past all stalls at leisure, browsing items, rejoicing over rare finds or an item still missing from their collection. The excitement on their faces soothed Vicky’s aggravated mood. Grace Dinks might think she could swoop in and take Bella’s reputation apart, but Bella had friends in this town to protect her.
At the Gazette’s offices Vicky went in through the invitingly open door under the lintel with the engraved 1908. The Gazette had been around for over a century and was still going strong, thanks to Michael’s energetic input. When he had taken over the paper it had been about dead. Now more people were reading it than ever.
Inside a phone rang, and someone rattled away on a keyboard. In a corner was a small replica of one of the old printing presses that had been used in the past.
Michael stood in the back, studying a map of Glen Cove County on the wall. He turned as her footfalls came up to him. “Vicky! Have you heard the latest? Bella Brookes is at the police station, apparently a suspect in a murder case, and her assistant Lisa Coombs is on the run. She was last seen filling up her car at a gas station, here.”
He pinpointed a spot on the map, about fifty miles north of Glen Cove. “I guess she will be heading for some airport and dump the car there, take a flight. But with that APB out on her, she could also try and cross the state line and then find a plane out to someplace.”
He spun to Vicky, a look of concentration on his face. “Why do you think she is running anyway? Is she the killer? Or just scared to be involved in something shady? She struck me as extremely timid when I talked to her at the party Friday night.”
“No way. She was not Lisa Coombs. It was all an act.” Vicky filled him in on what she had discovered this morning.
Michael whistled. “I have to hire you as investigative reporter. You’d do great.” He looked her over. “So you knew about the death at the party before the rest of us did?”
Vicky felt a flush come up. “Lilian told me but she asked me to keep it to myself.”
Michael scanned her expression as if he wanted more of an explanation.
Vicky said quickly, “And you don’t need me to report for you. I think there is already someone in town who intends to do a first-class job. Grace Dinks?”
Michael froze. “Grace is in town?”
“Yes.” Vicky studied his expression. “Do you know her?”
“Do I know her?! I had to work with her once, when I was doing a story in Mexico. That insane woman almost got us all killed by provoking an argument with a drug gang’s leader. The guy was that tall…” Michael pointed up to the ceiling. “And covered in tattoos of skulls and bones. I would never even have asked him for directions, but Grace went over and asked him how he felt about kids taking drugs. She is desperate for a scoop. Would get herself and her team killed to get one.”
He thought a moment. “No, let me rephrase that. She would get her team killed. She herself always has a way of escaping the trouble. That time in Mexico she ran, and the gang leader caught me and almost broke my arm convincing me we’d better never come back. Grace Dinks…”
He shook his head. “Better avoid her. Foremost, never ever antagonize her. She is crazy enough to come after you with her sharpened pencil. And she always gets exposure. Somehow.”
Vicky sighed. “Too late for that. She was in my store just now, falling all over herself to find out about Bella and accusing me of being a fake who knew nothing about the UK. I told her the truth about her attitude, and she stormed off. I guess we will never be friends now, huh?”
Michael had to laugh. He shook his head, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed that he did appreciate her refusal to back down in front of someone so aggressive.
“Ran to the newspaper to complain?” a voice said sweetly from the door.
They both turned to it jerkily.
Grace Dinks stood there, with a suggestive smile. “Why, Michael Danning. Long time ago since I saw you dangling in the arms of that giant gang leader. Always trying to play hero, huh, defend the poor helpless female? But I had already walked away and he could have killed you.”
She shook her head, tutting. “You haven’t changed much. Only you now choose different women to play hero to. Easier to please, I bet. Me: you could never convince.”
The way she moved her body as she spoke made Vicky livid. But she tried to maintain a neutral expression. This woman got her kicks off provoking other people. The trick was not to give her what she wanted.
“Call me when you know more,” Vicky said to Michael and walked up to Grace, intending to pass her and go out.
But Grace stepped in her way and eyed her. “You’re very quick to defend Bella Brookes. I wonder why. Making a fat profit off her arrival here, huh. The book tour, the scavenger hunt. But I happen to know it is a scam. That it was made to be dishonest and exclude people who have the right answers to artificially decrease the number of participants.”
Sweat broke out between Vicky’s shoulder blades. If such a wild allegation went public, they’d have a riot on their hands. People who had first enjoyed the hunt would then clamor for her head.
“Why are you doing this, Grace?” Michael’s voice was calm, even, almost weary. “Still haven’t got that big break, have you? First you traveled the world risking your team’s lives for it and now you have come to tear a nice little town apart. But you will never get it this way. You think the story has to be dynamite. But it’s the way you sell it. And you just don’t have what it takes to sell it right. You prey on pain, and people sense that. They don’t like you and therefore they will not like your stories. No matter what they’re about.”
Grace’s eyes flashed. “I prey on pain, maybe, but people do like that. They want blood just as much as they did in the old days in the arena. I offer them slaughter and they gobble it up. Slaughter of names, reputations, businesses, marriages. I don’t care what I have to break in this town if I can get at the truth.”
“Truth?” Michael laughed. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
Grace inched back, her face reddening. “Just wait and see.”
She turned and walked off, her sandals slapping the floorboards with angry beats.
Vicky fought the panic washing over her. This woman was ruthless. She didn’t like Michael or Bella Brookes and she had just said she’d do anything to get a story. She would really not care who suffered from it, in Glen Cove or beyond.
They’d better find something to use against her.
Chapter Eleven
When Marge heard how Grace Dinks had behaved at the Gazette’s offices, she paled. “It sounds like she really is trouble. I mean, if she goes around saying the scavenger hunt is somehow manipulated and the outcome unfair, we will have to deal with a lot of upset people. The store’s reputation could get damaged beyond repair. Especially if people start talking online.
“Fortunately, I already asked Ms. Tennings to come over here and mind the store for us. Then you and I are going to see Lilian Rowland and find out if Grace Dinks was at her party. We also have to check hotels in the neighborhood and ask people who might have seen her. At the same time we can check what the guard did in town before he went to the party. Maybe he asked questions and people remember that?”
Vicky nodded. “Fine with me.” Marge’s energetic approach gave her some hope they could stop the runaway train called Grace Dinks. “Say, do you have any idea how the scavenger hunt is coming along?”
“Well, on Saturday people got the scenario and had to choose leads to take them to a possible suspect. I guess
that those who chose the right suspect will move on, but I’m not sure what they are planning for today. There will be a new announcement at the community center around five.”
“Great,” Vicky said, “that leaves us time for some information gathering, and then we can go see Paul DuBree and find out how much he knew about the fake Lisa Coombs. And what he thinks of Grace Dinks’ appearance in town. I wonder if her gripe is with Bella or with DuBree. I got the impression from her attitude to Michael that she is a man-eater. Maybe DuBree rejected her once, and she never forgave him? Maybe she is here to prove his campaigns to promote books are crooked and to ruin him financially?”
Marge sighed. “Possibly. But I’m more interested in the fake Lisa Coombs. Remember how she thought up the cozy author as a suspect in the scavenger hunt? I bet you that the cozy author is the culprit. Just like in real life. Maybe the fake Lisa Coombs killed the guard to let suspicion fall on Bella. Maybe she took the job with her to hurt her. She could also have tampered with her car.”
“Yes.” Vicky perked up at the mention of this. “We should ask DuBree why he wanted to know if the car was tampered with. Did he know Bella was being threatened and did he know by whom?”
“Was he in league with the fake Lisa Coombs? You did see the two of them kissing.”
Vicky nodded. “That takes on a whole new meaning now that we know ‘Lisa’ was no college undergraduate.”
The door opened, and Ms. Tennings walked in. Her expression was worried. “I’m so sorry that Bella Brookes got arrested on suspicion of having killed that guard. I guess that will be the end of the scavenger hunt too?”
Vicky shook her head. “Bella is not formally charged with anything yet. She is just being questioned because a witness reported something about her fighting with a man at the party where the guard was killed. It doesn’t mean much. I guess her team will be eager to push on and hope she will be released soon and the hunt can go on as planned. They have to create good press to counteract the bad surrounding this murder business.”
Grand Prize: Murder! Page 11