by Lynn Bohart
“How did you find out about the break-in?” Detective Abrams asked suspiciously.
Roger paused and then glanced at me. “A police officer stopped by earlier this morning to talk to me. And then Julia called.”
“We need to talk with your son,” Detective Abrams said.
Roger nodded. “Um, okay,” he said. “Sure. He’s over at the Cranberrys’ house, by Island Crest Park. Do you want me to call him?”
He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. Detective Abrams put up his hand to stop him.
“No. That’s okay. We’ll drive over. You finish here and get Ms. Applegate’s system up and running.”
“Of course,” he said. “Yes, I’ll do that.”
He glanced at me, glanced at Detective Abrams and then turned awkwardly to return down the hallway.
“Why don’t we go into the dining room?” I said, spying the Brewsters hovering in the background. I led the men into the dining room.
“So what’s going on, Julia?” David asked.
“Why don’t we all sit down,” I offered.
I sat at the head of the long dining room table, and David sat to my left.
“We think that Ahab might have been stolen by whoever killed Trudy,” I said.
The men exchanged curious glances.
“What makes you think that?” Detective Abrams asked with his sharp blue eyes narrowed with skepticism.
“I don’t know if you remember, but at the Christmas Eve party, he squawked, ‘I want to kill Dana Finkle.’ Dana accused me of teaching that to him, but I didn’t. Not that I’d never thought of locking her in a tower with a big red hourglass, just like Dorothy,” I said.
“Julia!” Rudy said.
“Sorry,” I said, snapping out of my Wizard of Oz reverie.
“So you think Ahab overheard someone say that they wanted to kill Mrs. Finkle?” Detective Abrams said, hiding a smile.
He sat back, his broad shoulders stretching the confines of his shirt. I snuck a glance at Blair, who was openly staring.
“You’ve said often enough that you don’t believe in coincidences,” Rudy said.
“True,” he agreed.
“I mean, c’mon,” Doe began. “Otherwise, why would someone break into the Inn just to steal a bird?”
“We wondered the same thing,” David said. He turned to me. “So what about the beer bottle?”
“I saw a light outside last night…out there,” I said, pointing out the window toward the trees. “And Goldie – she’s the one who had the shotgun – she says she saw someone light up a cigarette while waiting in the trees. Anyway, we went out to see if we could find anything he might have left behind.”
“And look what we found!” Blair exclaimed, producing the baggie with the cigarette butt.
Detective Abrams reached out and took it from Blair. The two men shared a knowing look.
“What?” I said.
“You realize we couldn’t use this in a court of law,” David said.
“Why not?”
“Because there was no chain of custody established,” Detective Abrams said. “There’s no way to guarantee where this came from or that you didn’t somehow compromise the evidence.”
“Or plant it,” Rudy said with a disappointed sigh.
Detective Abrams shrugged. “Right. But it still might be helpful. Where did you find these?”
“There’s a flat rock out in those trees,” I said. “Maybe halfway through.”
“A place that’s hidden from view, but that just happens to have a perfect view of the Inn,” Rudy added.
“We think whoever it was sat there and waited until most of the lights went out in the Inn,” I said.
“We also found this in a small parking lot on the other side of Goldie’s home,” Rudy said, producing the second bottle. “The path from the parking lot leads directly to the beach in front of her home and then picks up again, running through the grove of trees to the Inn. We think he parked there.”
She placed the bag on the table and slid it across to Detective Abrams. He picked it up and just stared at it, before sneaking a second glance at David.
“What?” I said again. “C’mon, you guys know something you’re not saying.”
Finally Detective Abrams sighed. “We found a bottle just like this hidden behind a bush at the library yesterday morning. We really had no way of knowing who left it there. But it’s the same brand.”
“Wow,” Blair whispered. “We really did find evidence.”
“But that also means that Ahab really was stolen because of Trudy’s murder,” Doe said.
“That’s why I said what you found might still be helpful,” Detective Abrams said. “This is a very rare beer. In fact, there’s only a couple of places in Seattle that sell it. You didn’t happen to get a look at the guy who attacked you last night, did you?”
“No,” I said with a sigh. It was too dark, and he was behind me most of the time. I got a whiff of his cologne though. And Minnie bit him in the face.”
“That could be good,” David said. “Do you know what the cologne was?” David asked.
“No, but a kid that just checked out today was wearing it.”
I told them about Mr. Dalton. David took notes, but they weren’t encouraging that Mr. Dalton was our suspect. After all, his face was unblemished. In other words, no bite marks from an angry Dachshund.
“So the odds are high that the same person left the bottles behind, don’t you think?” Rudy surmised. Detective Abrams nodded. “We didn’t touch the bottles,” she said. “You might still be able to get fingerprints off them. We picked them up with the baggies. But they’re fresh.”
David nodded. “We think the one we found at the library was too. But that one was pretty badly compromised because of the storm that night. These,” he said, nodding toward the two on the table, “might give us more information.”
Blair grinned. “So, we did good?”
A brief smiled flashed across Detective Abram’s handsome face. “Yeah, you did good.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “We also found a note caught in the bushes up at the library. We can’t be sure it has anything to do with Ms. Bascom’s murder, though.”
“What did it say?” I asked him.
He paused before saying, “Ain’t karma a bitch?”
“That’s weird,” Blair said.
“That doesn’t ring a bell to any of you?” he asked.
We all shook our heads.
“Well, now we need to figure out who might have made that comment about Mrs. Finkle in front of Ahab. Think back,” he said to me. “Who was at the Inn that night that might actually want to kill her?”
I shook my head. “I’ve already done that.”
“Besides, everyone at that party probably wanted to kill her,” Blair said.
He sighed and leaned back again. “It’s true. She isn’t well-liked. We’ve been researching her background on the island, and she’s sued half the people who live here.”
“Including me,” I said with a smirk.
“But has she actually hurt anyone?” Rudy asked. “I mean to the point that someone would want that kind of revenge?”
David shook his head. “No, not that we can find. Most of her lawsuits are pretty frivolous. She’s been successful in extracting some money from a few people, but more often than not, the suits are dropped. But we’re still interviewing people. And we’re looking into her background.”
At the mention of her background, I flinched. I snuck a glance at Rudy, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. We weren’t going to admit to the trash run.
“She’s actually more irritating and exasperating than anything,” Doe said. “Not worth going to prison over.”
Detective Abrams pushed his chair back and stood up. “We’ll see what the bottles show us,” he said. “Meanwhile, keep thinking about who might have made that comment in front of Ahab.”
They both stopped at the d
oor to the hallway.
“And next time something happens, call us,” David said firmly. “The patrol guys don’t know the difference between a routine break-in and what might be connected to a murder case.”
“Okay, but I hope there won’t be a next time,” I said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Shortly after the detectives left, Roger reappeared.
“The keypad is up and running,” he said. “But you really should equip your upstairs windows with alarms, Julia. After what happened, I’ll give you the labor for free. What d’you say? I could schedule it early next week.”
I nodded. “Let me talk to my bookkeeper. I probably should have done it all right from the beginning. I’ll give you a call.”
“Well, again, I’m so sorry about Ahab. Everything is still under warranty, so there’s no charge, but…well, it doesn’t make up for your loss.”
I caught a tear forming and reached up to swipe it away. “Thanks.”
He reached out a long, gangly arm and placed a hand on my shoulder. “If you only knew how badly I feel, Julia. Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Roger gave me a weak smile and left. I turned to the girls who were waiting impatiently in the breakfast room.
“C’mon, Julia,” Rudy said. “Let’s get going. I’m booked this afternoon.”
We each grabbed our beverage of choice and headed for the garage, which sat between the Inn and the guest house. As we came around the corner, we encountered Jose´. He had the garage door open and was staring through the van’s open back doors.
“Um, I can explain,” I said, coming up behind him.
He turned dark eyes my way, his handsome features twisted into amused curiosity. “You told me to pick up a bachelor’s chest from the early 1900s today, but it looks like you cleaned up trash along the highway instead,” he said with a smile.
We had formed a half circle around him, all staring at the mess of bulging garbage bags and dirty plastic bags in the back of the van.
“Very funny,” I replied. “But there’s a reason all of that mess is in there.”
“And I’m sure we’re waiting to hear it,” a voice cut in from the back.
We all turned to find April standing behind us, wrapped up in a faux fur-lined coat. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she had a muffler around her neck. Instead of a pleasant smile though, she had a look of restrained patience on her face.
“When you said last night that you hoped I wouldn’t need the van today, I assumed you meant that you had a pickup or a delivery. But apparently, you’ve joined Doe in the business of picking up other people’s garbage.”
“No, just Dana Finkle’s,” Blair blurted.
Rudy shot Blair a look of reproach as April’s eyes expanded with recognition.
“Ah, I see,” she said, stepping forward to stare at the jumble of cardboard boxes, empty paper bags and trash that littered the back of the van. “Let me guess. You think you’re going to find something in there that will help you solve Trudy’s murder.”
“We need to know more about Dana,” I said. “And why someone might want to kill her.”
“And you think you’re going to learn that from her trash.” April’s dark eyes glinted with skepticism.
Blair was standing closest to the back of the van, and she reached out a manicured fingernail to poke the label on a flattened shipping box. “Well, who knows, maybe we’ll find the receipt for a bunch of sex toys in there.”
“And that would be important because…” April let her sentence draw out.
“More likely we’ll find an empty tube of Preparation H,” Doe said cynically.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, we’ll be done here in about an hour. Then you can go pick up that chest,” I said to Jose´.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter to me. I have plenty to do.” He ambled away, and I turned to April. “By the way, we went out and searched the beach area like you suggested, and we found a couple of empty bottles from a rare kind of beer in the trees. The detectives were here and said they found one just like it at the library.”
Her eyes fluttered momentarily. “So whoever took Ahab really might be the guy who killed Trudy.”
I nodded. “It looks that way. We still need to figure out who it was that said they’d like to kill Dana in front of Ahab, though. Can you think back on that night? Try to remember if you saw anyone hanging around his cage?”
“Sure. By the way, I just heard on the news that Dana has formally dropped out of the mayoral race. She had a short press conference downtown. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, nodding to the back of the van. “Don’t catch any diseases.” She left us with a wave of her hand as she disappeared around the corner of the garage.
“Dana doesn’t have any diseases, does she?” Blair asked.
Rudy sighed. “No, Blair. She just has a diseased mind. C’mon, let’s get started. I have a fast-pitch meeting this afternoon.”
“Let me get some big plastic bags,” I said.
I ran over to a workbench and pulled out a box of leaf bags. I handed bags to everyone and immediately shook mine open.
“Here. Why don’t we shove all the torn up boxes into this one?”
As the girls began to pick through the trash and toss cardboard into my bag, my mind wandered back to Dana and the campaign.
“So, she actually did it,” I said.
“What?” Rudy asked.
“Dropped out of the race. I wasn’t sure she would. I think she wanted to be mayor more than anything,” I said.
“Because it would give her what she doesn’t have,” Doe said. “Power.”
“Exactly,” I replied.
We worked silently for a moment, and then Doe addressed Rudy. “You think your new knee will handle fast-pitch this year?”
“I hope so,” Rudy said as she separated out a bunch of paper goods and stuffed them into a second bag. “I miss it. And I can’t keep up my skills if I don’t play.”
“Are you going to try out for pitcher again?” Blair asked.
“Not sure,” Rudy replied. “My shoulder has been acting up. I’ve been getting some PT to loosen it up.”
Doe was folding up a box to fit into the bag. “The whole team is over 50, isn’t it? You guys should be taking it easy.”
“That’s why it’s called senior fast pitch,” Rudy said with a sneer. “Instead of an 80 mile an hour pitch, I can only do 60 now. But I can still heat up the catcher’s glove,” she said with a seductive wink.
“Is Colin Peters still your catcher?” Blair asked, referring to the retired athletic coach from one of the high schools. Rudy nodded. “Well, I’d like to warm up more than his catcher’s mitt,” Blair said as she tossed something into the bag.
“Blair,” Doe scolded her.
“Hey,” she replied with a lift to her eyebrows. “Rudy enjoys her game with soft balls, and I enjoy mine.”
Rudy let out a belly laugh. “Well no surprise there.”
“Okay, c’mon, let’s take this stuff over here,” I said.
We dragged the bags to the front of the garage, where we had a large table set up to sort through boxes we sometimes picked up at storage facility sales. I pulled out some folding chairs, closed the garage door and turned on a space heater, while we all sat down and began to sort through the bags.
“Okay, why don’t we divide this stuff up?” I suggested. “Let’s collect receipts here,” I said, indicating a spot in the middle of the table. “And letters and invoices over there,” I said, gesturing to my left.
“Here’s a box for things we don’t know what to do with,” Rudy said, lifting up a box and placing it at the end of the table.
“Okay, ready, set, go,” I said.
We spent the next fifteen minutes quickly sorting and organizing what was in the trash bags. Anything that was obviously junk was thrown into a garbage can I dragged over from the
back of the garage.
“Hey, this is interesting,” Blair exclaimed. “It’s a letter from an attorney warning Dana to cease and desist.” Blair looked up and handed the letter to Rudy, who skimmed it quickly.
“It’s regarding someone named Eloise Radle,” Rudy said. “That’s not a name I recognize.”
“Me neither,” I said. “What else does it say?”
Rudy studied the letter. “It says that if Dana doesn’t stop harassing his client about her back porch light, the attorney will get a court order to force her to back off.”
“The back porch light?” I said, shaking my head. “What in the world is she complaining about?”
Rudy looked up from the paper in her hands. “Apparently this woman lives next door to Dana and has a spotlight in her backyard that shines into Dana’s kitchen.”
“Her kitchen?” I said. “Where she’s probably never trying to sleep. God, sometimes I think Dana is just a ridiculous woman. Where’s the attorney located?”
Rudy glanced back at the sheet of paper. “Seattle.”
“I think we ought to set that one aside and check into it,” Doe said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems awfully petty to me.”
“But not to this woman,” Rudy said, setting the letter on the table. “After all, she hired an attorney. We shouldn’t judge at this point. Just gather information.”
Several more minutes went by. I finally found something that raised my eyebrows.
“Hey, how about this?” I said, waving a receipt in my hands. “Dana bought a gun.”
“You’re kidding!” Doe said. “When?”
“Um…two months ago,” I replied. I glanced around at everyone. “I don’t think I like the thought of Dana Finkle with a gun.”
“That’s cuz you’re always in her cross hairs,” Rudy said.
“Very funny,” I said with a grimace. I glanced at Doe, wondering if she’d told Blair or Rudy about her own recent purchase. But she seemed oblivious to the reference.
Blair snickered and then said. “Up until now, Dana has only taken pot shots at people with her mouth. A loaded gun in the hands of a woman like that puts a whole new meaning on the phrase, ‘pistol packing mama.’”