Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books!

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  “Yes, I do, especially since Kathy Simmons was claustrophobic.”

  "But I didn't do that to Kathy! I never touched a hair on her head! And you can't prove otherwise!" Green's face had turned a strange shade of green, and his voice had climbed two octaves.

  “I think a jury will find that hard to believe when they see the photos of Cara Mia Delgatto,” said Davidson. "We're looking at you for a double murder. Mrs. Wentworth tells us that you had ongoing access to her husband. Of course, the Senator recently died of poisoning. Considering what a local hero he is, that's going to go badly for you when we go to trial. Of course, we’ll be sure to point out that you stood to profit by his death. What with your upcoming book and all."

  "I never! Poison? You have to be kidding me! I admired him! I had no reason to want him dead! I didn’t set the publication date! She did!"

  "Hmm," said Davidson. "That's not the way Mrs. Wentworth tells it. She says that you worried that another author might release a book before yours. By killing the Senator, she says that you guaranteed yourself an exclusive."

  "She's lying! I knew he'd never give another interview. He barely made sense when he talked to me. She did most of the talking. Arranged all the interviews. Got the photos for me."

  "Speaking of which, why'd you go through so much trouble for a picture of the Senator? You know, of course, that I had a copy of that picture? I gave it to Mrs. Wentworth. Surely she told you as much."

  Adrian Green reminded Lou of a freshly caught fish flopping around on the sand. His mouth was open, gasping for air. He was struggling, flipping this way and that, but to no avail. "Jenny Beth never! She told me that I needed to make sure that Cara didn’t have a copy of the picture. I had to make sure it was destroyed or the publisher would sue me for misrepresentation, because I hadn't told them about Dozier."

  "Dozier," said Davidson.

  "Right."

  "Why don't you tell me about Dozier? I want to see if it matches what I've already heard."

  But before Adrian could launch into his story, there came a brisk knock on the door of the interview room.

  "Don't go anywhere," said Davidson as he and Lou both stepped out.

  "Sir? We just got a phone call from the Paynes Prairie Rest Area south of Gainesville," said Blaze. "Someone found Mrs. Simmons on the floor in the ladies' bathroom. She's been beaten up pretty badly. Her purse was stolen. They called us because she had Lou's business card in her pocket."

  98

  ~Cara~

  9:30 a.m. on Tuesday

  The Treasure Chest in Downtown Stuart, Florida

  “Oh, my stars!” Honora gasped when she saw my bruised and battered face. My nose had swollen twice its size. I could barely see out of one eye because of the eggplant purple puffiness. My lips were inflated like a starlet’s.

  “I’m making you a good strong cup of Earl Grey,” she said. “Dear me!” She fluttered around, getting me a piece of quiche for breakfast, filling a glass with water, and handing over a napkin. "Where is everyone?" she asked.

  MJ had phoned to say she was stopping by Walmart to buy more drinks for the refrigerator. We were constantly running out because Sid gulped Diet Cokes the way a marathon runner chugs water after a race. At Kiki's store, they kept track of what they drank and tossed money into a kitty, but I was paying my crew such a meager amount that I couldn't bear to dock them for the soft drinks, coffee, tea, and water.

  Sid was running late as usual.

  Skye was still in bed. Her tiff with Lou had left her mildly depressed. Instead of bouncing down the stairs bright and early, she tended to sleep longer, although she didn’t look rested when she joined us.

  Of course, Honora had to hear the whole story about my encounter with Adrian. She tsk-tsk-tsked over and over.

  “Thank goodness for that lost hat pin of yours,” I said. “Unfortunately, I can’t return it to you right now because it’s considered evidence.”

  She laughed. “Not to worry. You certainly put it to good use. We should bless the stars above that Jason arrived when he did. And I want to thank him in person for taking such good care of you. You do know that you could have called me, don’t you? I would have come and sat beside you at the hospital. At least I could have held your hand and offered sympathy."

  Her offer was so sweet and so genuine that a lump formed in my throat. I had trouble swallowing it down, even with a hearty slug of tea. My mother had been a wonderful woman, but she hadn't been much for nurturing. It had never occurred to me that someone would be willing to come and hold my hand! I was so lucky that my friends had conspired to bring Honora onboard.

  "That's really sweet," I said, "and I'll remember your offer, but I hope it will never happen again. I was well taken care of. Jason was very kind. Of course any man who orders Chinese for me is A-Okay in my book."

  "Maybe it's time to put Cooper Rivers behind you. Jason certainly seems like a wonderful young man. So does Police Captain Davidson for that matter. Two entirely different personalities, but alike in that they are both strong and intelligent."

  “Maybe," I said, slowly. I was trying not to move my mouth much as I spoke. "But the truth is, I'm not sure that I’m ready to move forward, Honora. My track record with men is abysmal. And I’m not into playing games.”

  “We all play games, Cara dear. Some of us are naturals and some of us have to work at it. EveLynn is a prime example of a person with no game-playing skills. What are manners but an elaborate game that we've agreed to play?”

  She patted my arm and said, “I tend to get a bit windy, now and again. I think you need to take a couple of those pain pills. Then let's go look at the spa items. I have some ideas about how to rearrange them.”

  Her suggestions were terrific. Rather than just sell the spa items individually, she proposed that we combine them into gift baskets. EveLynn had sewn a couple prototypes of fabric baskets for us. They were shaped like pillowcases, but with stiffer sides. To make them work, you rolled down the open end until it was the height you desired. Then you put a covered sheet of sturdy cardstock in the bottom as a stabilizing floor. The spa products could be piled into the containers.

  "These will sell like hotcakes," I said, as I stood back to admire how fabulous the gift sets looked. "I'll email EveLynn and ask her to make more. Thank you both for the good work."

  A loud thunk at the back of the store told us that Sid had arrived.

  "I really need to speak to him about letting that bike of his clang against the building," I said. "Maybe I should get him a bike rack."

  Honora giggled. "Do you think he'd use it? Boys that age love to make noise."

  Sid came walking onto the sales floor. He took one look at me and let out a yelp. "Holy guacamole! What happened to you? Cara, have you taken up kickboxing?"

  99

  ~Cara~

  MJ was distracted when she walked in a little later. She was fishing around in her purse, and I was putting coffee mugs in the dishwasher, so she didn’t see my face until she was almost right next to me. When I turned, she jumped back in shock.

  “Good grief! Are you all right? What on earth happened?” Her mouth fell open, and she lost her grip on her handbag. Lipsticks, bottles of perfume, and jewelry went tumbling all over the floor.

  "I was attacked by Adrian Green." I explained about my ill-fated coffee date with the man. "Can you believe it? I actually thought he was cute at first. Imagine what might have happened over a sit-down dinner.”

  She shook her head. “What a pity. I’m such a sucker for English accents.”

  “Yeah, well, I think I should officially cancel my dating career. Although I have to say, Jason Robbins was wonderful to me."

  I filled her in on the details.

  "See?" she said. "You’ve got to kiss a lot of ugly toads, before you find your handsome prince. That said, I don't call taking you out for a dinky cup of coffee like Adrian did a real date. I’m glad that creep is behind bars now.”

  “Me, too.”
>
  “You need to keep ice on that face and stay away from customers. You might scare them off. I can cover some of the bruising with makeup, but I can’t do anything about the swelling. Or the bloodshot eyes. Or that big bandage over your nose.”

  “I'm not going to let you touch me because it hurts too much,” I said. “If I can't wait on customers, what am I going to do with myself to be productive?”

  While MJ listened, I explained that Sid was working in my office, putting the finishing touches on our new point-of-purchase inventory system. Honora had brought in a new selection of Valentine's Day miniatures. Skye had promised to make more bracelets, festooned with heart-shaped dog tags, an idea she got from studying Luna's tags. The wrought iron stands I'd painted needed yet another coat, but first they had to dry. We were back to doing what we do best, turning trash into treasure.

  "How are the spa supplies selling?" MJ asked.

  "You’ve got to see EveLynn's fabric baskets. They're cuteness personified. I’ll show you." We walked onto the sales floor. Honora looked up from talking to a customer and waved.

  "They are going to fly out of here. What a good idea!" said MJ. “I love them!”

  As I adjusted a jar of lotion, I remembered how rough and red LaTisha’s hands had been. I’d promised her a jar of this miraculous cream.

  “Since I can't do much around here, I think I’ll go for a drive,” I said, tucking a jar into my pocket.

  “Good lord above! What happened to you?” asked Skye, who'd wandered downstairs.

  I repeated what I'd told MJ. "Thank goodness for Honora's stray hat pin."

  “I think MJ's right. You shouldn't be waiting on customers. Not looking like that," said Skye. "Fortunately, I have the day off. I was planning to work here at the store, so if you need me to take over for you, I can. Why don't you go upstairs and lie down. It might do you good."

  100

  ~Lou~

  8 a.m. on Tuesday

  Lou’s Trailer at Sunny Daze Mobile Home Park

  Lou slept through his alarm, waking up confused and hazy. He'd been that tired. In fact, he'd fallen asleep in all his clothes, only to take off his jacket during the night and toss it to the floor. His tie had wrapped around his neck, and he’d drooled on it. Coffee helped make him human, but what really jolted him into consciousness was the work ahead.

  "You need to have another go at Adrian Green," said Showalter. "An overnight in the jail may have loosened his tongue."

  "Maybe," said Lou. "Fingers crossed that Jenny Beth Wentworth didn't find him a good lawyer."

  Adrian insisted that he be allowed another phone call so he could retain a lawyer. Lou had no choice but to agree. To deny the man the request could be considered the same as not allowing him the right to counsel—and that could cause the case against Adrian Green to be thrown out of court. But what Adrian didn’t know was that the city had spent a quarter of a million dollars on a nifty device called the Stingray. It allowed Lou to listen in while Adrian begged Jenny Beth Wentworth to come to his aid.

  "Like that's really going to happen," Showalter had said. "I wonder when he’s going to realize that she’s hung him out to dry."

  "We'll see what the day brings," said Lou, as he wiped the last of his shaving cream off his face. The minty fragrance of the Barbasol always seemed to lift his spirits.

  He was pulling into the police station parking lot when Davidson called his cell phone. "We've got something. Where are you?"

  “I’m entering the building now,” said Lou.

  As it turned out, Fernandez had done a terrific job when his crew searched the Senator's home. They'd even lifted prints from a glass in Phillip Coslow's apartment over the garage. Late last night, after Lou had headed home, Fernandez had sent the prints to Davidson. The police captain had turned it all over to their fingerprint specialist, who'd worked late trying to get a match.

  "Guess who broke into Cara Mia Delgatto's store and left his prints on the wall behind her toilet?" asked the Police Captain with a huge grin.

  "Our Man Friday, Phillip Coslow," said Lou, comparing the two sets of prints. Then it hit Lou. "Remember when Mrs. Wentworth asked him to grab that chair for her? Shouldn't have been any trouble for a big guy like Coslow, but he winced. I bet he's suffering from the gash he got diving through the front window of The Treasure Chest."

  "I'll get a uniform to bring him in for questioning," said Davidson. "You go to work on Adrian Green. I have a hunch that he'll be feeling more cooperative this morning."

  A night in the pokey had a tendency to loosen a suspect’s tongue.

  But Adrian didn’t seem cooperative. At least not at first. Instead, he acted sulky. Lou could see the man was hurting. The ER doc had packed his nose with gauze. His face was a study in shades of red and purple, a testimony to how hard Jason Robbins had slammed him into the wall. His hand had been carefully wrapped, like a mummy’s. His stylish glasses were taped together at the bridge.

  "Let's go over the timeline you gave me again," said Lou gently. What Adrian needed was a “friend.” A confessor. Okay, fine, Lou could play that part. “Start with what happened when Kathy Simmons came in to file her story. Then what?"

  Adrian lifted his upper lip in an exaggerated sneer and turned his chair to face the wall. The mute protest spoke volumes. Cooperation was not a priority.

  Lou needed to shift the dynamics.

  "Mr. Green, if you don't talk to me, I'm going to assume that you're responsible for two murders. We have circumstantial evidence that you were the last person to see Kathy Simmons alive. Your co-workers have told us that you often stole her work and took credit for it. The two of you didn’t get along. She had a photo that you wanted so badly you were willing to attack Cara Mia Delgatto to get it. We're searching your bags right now, and your desk at work. I have a hunch we'll find Ambien, the sleeping pill discovered in Kathy's bloodstream."

  Lou paused.

  “As you can see, all that gives a poor impression of you,” he added. “Now what do you say we work together here? I don’t really think you’re our killer. But I think you know who is.”

  Green blinked repeatedly. His eyes had turned teary.

  Lou continued, in a tone so gentle that it nearly sounded kind. "Tell me what happened so I can help you. You've said Kathy was fine when you left her. Was it an accident?"

  That’s when Adrian Green cracked.

  101

  ~Lou~

  "Kathy found out that I was working on a biography of the Senator," said Adrian, slurping his coffee and munching a McDonald's hash brown that Lou'd sent a uniform out to buy. "Could I have more coffee? Two creams, two sugars?"

  "In a minute," said Lou. “We’ll get that for you.”

  Lou was wearing an earpiece so that Davidson could coach him through the interview while the Police Captain watched the interview from another room.

  "She’d been reading the publishing trade blogs. Somehow she came across gossip that said that someone had signed a contract to write Josiah’s biography. The article mentioned that the author was local. Kathy made it her business to apply for jobs at all the area media. She poked around and asked questions. Eventually, someone told her that I was writing the book about Josiah Wentworth. That’s why she took the job with the Shoreline News. She was even willing to work for a pittance! Just to have access to me! Oh, she looked innocent enough but she was actually very devious. I caught her in my office looking over my research. She had picked the lock! Instead of being embarrassed, she laughed and told me that the Senator wasn't the man I thought he was. She said she had proof."

  "What did she mean by that? What was it that she knew, but you didn’t?"

  Adrian sighed and rubbed his forehead with his unwrapped hand. "I’ve worked this out over time, but I didn’t know it when I began the project! I swear it!”

  “You didn’t know what?” pressed Lou.

  “I didn’t know what sort of man he was! Jenny Beth Wentworth would have you think her husba
nd was a saint. That's her plan. She wants to put the Senator on a pedestal in the worst way. Purely and simply, the man was a pedophile. A child molester. Dozier was his hunting ground. Jenny Beth served as his procurer. He had unlimited access to the school because he managed to get on a committee looking into allegations of misconduct. What a laugh! That was like paying a fox to take inventory of your chicken house! In return for good reports about the administration, they agreed to let him take a boy or two off campus as his special… friends."

  "What exactly do you mean?” asked Lou.

  "What do you think?" asked Green with an overtone of disgust.

  A knock on the door signaled more coffee for Green. Lou asked for a bottle of water. What he really wanted was a bottle of Johnny Walker Whiskey.

  This was one of those times when he hated his job. He hated what he learned about the depths of human depravity. He waited for the water, gulped it down, and reminded himself that he had to tread carefully if he was to put Jenny Beth Wentworth behind bars.

  “I’m sure you didn’t know about the Senator’s sickness,” said Lou, smoothly. “But I’m confused. Why did that photo matter so much? The one that Kathy Simmons was so bound and determined to own? We know that Jenny Beth sent Phillip Coslow to break into The Treasure Chest and steal it. We have evidence that Coslow broke into Kathy and Darcy’s apartment. We know that Coslow attacked Mrs. Simmons at that rest station in an attempt to get the picture from her. You drew a knife on Cara Mia to get access to her hard drive and the photo. Why all the fuss? The Senator’s visits to Dozier weren’t secrets, were they?”