“All the interest in her dried up pretty quick. I could never prove it, of course. And I couldn’t confront the mayor about it obviously.” He shook his head. “It was the first time I got my hands dirty after playing an honest game my whole life. And I got them dirty for no reason. Gwen’s network got the message and nobody would hire Alison.”
“I’m sorry.” She actually was. He had done this out of love for his daughter, even if it was dirty politics. That wasn’t right, but it also didn’t make him completely evil.
But more importantly to her, Gelder had just confirmed the rumors. She now knew that the mayor had pushed Gwen to first help Alison and later destroy her career before it took off.
It gave Gelder a lot of motive to kill Gwen. A whole lot.
But if that was the case, why would he share all of this with Marlene? She tried to hide her confusion as best she could while he looked at her. But thinking it through further, it didn’t make sense for Gelder to tell her all of this for exactly that reason: it would turn him into the prime suspect.
Unless this was an elaborate double bluff, and he was expecting her to think he would never share this information if he was guilty.
Or, unless he figured this information would eventually come out anyway. If that was the case, then it made sense for him to just spill the beans rather than look like he was trying to hide something.
Gelder shrugged. “It was my own damned fault. When you try to make a deal with the mayor, he’s the only one that ever wins. Now every time my Alison talks about Hollywood or New York and about how much she wishes it had worked out …” He fell silent and his eyes got watery. When he next spoke, it was with a broken voice. “It breaks my heart every time because I know it’s my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” Marlene said again. “But you did it out of love.”
“At least,” he said. “And at most.”
“The mayor was able to pull Gwen’s strings pretty easily,” Marlene said. “First in one direction, and then the other.”
He nodded. “It all happened very quickly.”
Marlene had the information she needed from Gelder. He was the perfect suspect, really. He was here all morning and Gwen had stopped in. Not too many other people were around. There were only two problems with her theory, though:
The first problem was: the security footage allegedly cleared Gelder as a suspect. But that was coming from Detective Bors, so she didn’t entirely trust that information. She had to see the tape for herself.
The second problem was: Gwen had been killed behind Marlene’s office. Gelder couldn’t have killed her here and then dragged her body across the street in full, plain view for all the world to see. How did he cross the street without her knowing and then follow her behind Marlene’s office without Gwen noticing? If he had murderous intentions, Gwen would have known and would have screamed bloody murder.
Marlene really needed to see the security footage. Maybe there was something wrong with it that would call it into question.
“What did Gwen say when she came into the store?” Marlene asked.
“She started to say how sorry she was.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t know what she knew about my arrangement with the mayor, either, so I just shut down and told her to get the hell out.”
Marlene thought about what to do next. She really wanted to see the security video and didn’t feel like waiting for Terrence Markison to get it to over to her.
“Do you mind if I look at the video you have from that day?”
It was the perfect question, because Gelder would only say no if he had something to hide. Right?
But Gelder just bobbed his head sideways. “Come on back.”
***
Gelder’s backroom was small and messy. After he cued up the video file on his computer, Marlene traded places with him and sat at his desk.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” Gelder said. “When you’re done, I want you to walk right out that back door.” He pointed. “You understand?”
She nodded.
Gelder went back to mind his register. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see the counter. She could only just make out the end cap of the nearest aisle, where a bunch of kites and paper planes and origami kits were hanging.
Marlene moved the cursor over the PLAY icon and tapped the mouse key. The video began to play. It was in black-and-white and grainy and there was sun glare making one corner of the shot into a blind spot. At the bottom right of the screen, the time was displayed.
Marlene jumped ahead to around the time Gwen had texted her she was going across the street for coffee. Sure enough, a minute later Gwen entered the store. Looking fabulous, as she always did. Gwen wore her big movie star glasses and a shirt that left nothing to the imagination and tight yoga pants that were suctioned to her thighs. Gwen stuck her head in tentatively—of course she would! She knew Gelder wouldn’t be happy to see her.
Gwen walked right by the coffee machine. Her text to Marlene about going across the street for a cup of joe was just a cover. Really, Gwen had gone across the street to talk to Tom Gelder. Of course!
Gwen stopped in front of the counter.
Marlene could just see the top and back of Gelder’s head from this angle. Gwen took her glasses off and gave him that smile all the boys would have killed to see back in high school. There was no sound on the footage, but Marlene watched as Gwen’s mouth began to open and close. She didn’t get very far in her apology, though.
Tom Gelder hammered the desk with a closed fist and then pointed at the door. Telling her to leave. It was such a violent reaction that Gwen jumped back by about a foot.
For a moment, she stood rooted to the spot. Her shoulders were frozen in a scared shrug. Gwen was a brave woman—you had to be courageous to be an actress of all things—so she probably wasn’t ready to just leave. She wanted to make things right with Tom. As right as they could be made. But Gelder thrust his finger toward the door again and that was it. Gwen nodded and said one more thing—it looked like I’m sorry—and started to leave.
At that point, the tape got a little scratchy. The screen flickered, like the camera had shut off for a second. Marlene was immediately suspicious. But Gwen was still walking out of the store, so no time had actually passed.
The footage remained a little fuzzy as Gwen pushed open the front door.
Marlene was about to rewind and watch again, but she saw Gwen do something strange. She stopped right outside the store. The camera angle was weird, kind of warping Gwen’s body and foreshortening her. She could see from Gwen’s knees to the bottom of her face.
Gwen had walked out of the store and was heading back across the street when she stopped suddenly and pivoted right.
For a moment, Gwen stood very still. Then her body began to move slightly. Her hands. Like she was talking.
But nobody else was in the frame.
She could have been talking to somebody out of view of the camera, of course. But Marlene didn’t think so. Gwen was having an animated conversation, it seemed. She wouldn’t do that with someone from afar, would she?
Gwen gesticulated a couple more times, then turned and walked quickly away.
She had been speaking with someone! But who?
Marlene watched a few more times but couldn’t make anything else of the video. But one thing she knew for certain:
Gwen hadn’t been talking to Artie Ryan.
Artie’s office was in the other direction. And—and—and—nobody else mentioned seeing Artie Ryan that morning. Mrs. Lee, or Andre, or George here would have said something when she stopped in that morning.
Meanwhile, Gelder had remained right where he was. Behind the counter, reading the newspaper. He didn’t get up, didn’t even look over his paper at Gwen while she stood right in front of his store.
The tape up until this point cleared Gelder. But she had to keep watching for a few more minutes to see if there was anything
else weird in the footage. It was really scratchy again and the screen jumped a couple times, but it didn’t look like any time had been missed.
“Time’s up,” Gelder said, scaring her.
She wanted to push him for more time, but thought better of it. Right now, Gelder saw her as an ally. Or, at least, he thought she was going after the mayor.
“Thanks, Tom.” She smiled. “I appreciate your letting me see this.”
Back outside, Marlene looked toward Artie’s office. It was dark and the lot was empty. Marlene looked at it sadly, wondering how he was holding up in jail. Bors had probably questioned him endlessly, at a time when Artie had just learned he had a son.
Marlene had an awful thought then. Maybe it wasn’t even Artie’s son.
Gwen O’Vear had been fairly promiscuous in high school, and according to Artie, he had broken up with her because she had cheated on him. Maybe the other guy was the father.
Lance.
Maybe Lance was the real father. Only a paternity test could prove that, of course.
Marlene walked across the street and went inside her office. She turned on the light and started up her computer. There were emails from a few clients waiting for her. Each one—literally each one—complained about some of the advice she’d offered. She had been life-coaching on the side for years, doing it for acquaintances or friends of acquaintances for free to build up her network. In that time, there had never been any issues. She was able to help everybody. They recommended her to their friends. Soon she was getting calls and emails from others. All referrals. It was what had convinced her to quit the job and pull all her money together to open her life-coaching business.
So what had gone wrong?
It was too much to think about all at once. The issues were overwhelming when considered at the same time.
“One thing at a time,” Marlene told herself.
And the first thing she had to do was clear Artie of Gwen’s murder. She had what she needed from Tom Gelder, but that was only half the story. She needed to be able to prove everything and she had to confront the mayor.
But how?
Her phone buzzed. Her heart sank like the Titanic when she saw the caller ID.
Andrew.
She’d completely forgotten about their appointment. They had planned to meet outside his office and talk for a half hour about how he could start life coaching on the side.
“Andrew, I’m so sorry about this morning!” she blurted out.
“Hey, Marlene. I was beginning to worry.”
He didn’t sound very worried. He sounded real ticked off.
“Artie was arrested last night and I’ve been running around this morning.”
“Oh.” His voice was flat. “Are you helping him with his defense?”
“Actually, yes. Anyway, Andrew, that is no excuse for missing a meeting. I’m real sorry.”
He sighed. It was the sigh of someone who’d been overlooked or forgotten many times in their life. It made Marlene feel awful.
“Andrew, this won’t happen again.” She figured the next few days would be swamped. “Can we circle back next week?”
His voice was neutral. “Marlene, if you don’t want to teach me life coaching, you can just say so.”
“That’s not it,” she said. “I’m just really busy right now. Artie needs my help. He didn’t kill Gwen O’Vear. He’s the last person in the world who would do such a thing.”
“Are you sure about that?” Andrew asked.
It was a weird question for him to ask. Marlene wanted to turn it around, but before she could, Andrew spoke again:
“Back in high school, he always walked around like he was above everybody else.”
Anger flared in Marlene. “You know, Andrew, I used to think that too. But I’ve gotten to really know him since he came back. He’s a good person.”
“He just laid on the charm, I’ll bet. He was good at that.”
“Andrew, I really don’t—”
He cut her off. “I’m sorry, Marlene. I’m just in a bad mood because I didn’t hear from you. It felt like you had stood me up. In the professional sense. People have been looking right through me my whole life. It’s very frustrating.”
His words ripped her heart out. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I really am. And I would like to help you. It’s just the next few days are going to be very busy for me. Can we meet next week?”
He didn’t answer.
“Andrew, please. Let me make this up to you.”
His voice brightened. “I appreciate that, Marlene. Can we do Wednesday or Thursday?”
As they made their new arrangements, the entrance to her building opened and in stepped Mal A. Gant.
“Andrew, it was nice talking to you. I’ll see you next week.”
Twenty-Five
Mayor Mal A. Gant was darkly handsome and in his early fifties but did not show his age at all. He had been the football star while attending MedBoro High all those years ago and had kept himself in good shape ever since. He had massive shoulders that filled her doorway and an easy, winning smile that oozed charm.
He had dark hair that had just begun to grey at the temples and brown, piercing eyes and was clean shaven. His suit looked expensive and was expertly tailored. His shoes were polished to a fine sheen and even his big, big hands looked manicured.
“Marlene Ambrosia,” he said, with that sly grin that must have charmed a lot of women—and a lot of voters.
“Come in,” she said, trying to act calm. “I’ve been expecting you, of course.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Oh?”
Not really, but she wanted him to think like she had planned for this meeting. “Please. Have a seat.”
She pointed to the chair across from her desk. Mayor Gant walked through the waiting area and stepped into her office. Before he closed the door behind him, she looked past his broad shoulders and saw the man’s retinue outside. There were two official-looking sedans with tinted windows parked in front of her office, while the mayor’s son stood just outside the entrance and watched the street, like he was a Secret Service agent.
The mayor closed the door with a thud. He looked around her office, still on his feet. “Nice place you got here. The old ice cream parlor.”
“Thank you.” She waited for him to sit.
Gant looked down at her for a moment longer. She locked eyes with him and did not look away, as uncomfortable as it was. Gant was not going to intimidate her.
“I’m sorry.” He suddenly flashed another of those charming smiles. “Is this a good time? I know you’re trying to run a business.”
Trying. He’d used the word so casually, but still she knew it had been as carefully placed as a land mine.
“You came at the perfect time, actually,” Marlene said. “I’ll be really busy later. And for the rest of the week.”
“Oh?” he asked, hoping to draw her out.
She nodded. “I’ve got a lot to do.”
Finally, the mayor sat across from her. He barely fit in the regular-sized chair. Folding his hands in his lap, Gant studied her again.
“What did you want to discuss?” Marlene asked.
“Your future.”
She batted down the rising panic. How was she ever going to confront this man about Gwen? He was so smooth and had the power of his office and all his political allies behind him.
Marlene didn’t know if she could do it.
“My future?” she asked, nonchalantly.
He nodded. “My friends all say the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“That I’m their best friend. And you know what? I believe them. I’m good to my friends. Very good.”
“How about your enemies?”
“Oh.” He chuckled and shook his head, like he felt sorry for them. “You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side.”
“I think I already have.”
He held up one of those big palms. “Now hold on there, Marlene. Your fath
er and I had a disagreement a long time ago but that was between me and him. I don’t believe the sins of the father should pass on and all that.”
This was news to her, but she hid her surprise and kept silent.
“Like I said, that was between me and him. You and me? We don’t know each other. And I want you to know something. I’m a loyal man. I respect loyalty. It’s a fine trait, arguably the most important. That’s why I’d be willing to overlook certain actions that are done out of loyalty to other people.”
“How noble of you.”
His smile vanished. “But as the mayor, it’s my job to make sure justice is served. Do you take my meaning?”
“Why don’t you spell it out for me?” she said, giving him an ironic smile.
His eyes narrowed. “The police have the right man. As much as it pains me to say this, Artie Ryan killed Gwen O’Vear. I will not abide anyone interfering with a police investigation or the prosecution of this heinous crime. Justice must be served.”
“He killed her because she gave up their son for adoption?” Marlene challenged. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh, but it does. Imagine what he must have felt. Betrayal. Shame. Responsibility. His son must be twelve or thirteen years old now. All that emotion swirling through a man like Artie Ryan at the same time—it was too much to handle. It would be too much to handle for most people. Artie isn’t Superman.”
“How did you know Gwen had given their son up for adoption?” Marlene asked.
“She and I were close. She confided in me.”
Marlene nodded. That was the whole thing right there. The most important piece. But how could she prove it?
“Why would Gwen confide in you?”
The mayor smiled. “We were friends. Good friends. I helped her.”
Yeah, right. The mayor was the last person you would confide in, because he would use your secrets against you in the future. Gwen would have known that.
“You helped her,” Marlene said. “And Gwen helped you.”
“That’s what friends do,” the mayor said. “They help each other.”
The Once and Future Scream Queen: Marlene Ambrosia Mysteries Page 18