by Diane Weiner
She hugged Ellie’s parents. “I’m so sorry for your loss. You know she was the sister I always wanted.”
Mrs. Rossi said, “She thought of you that way, too. She loved you, you know.”
“I loved her. I wish we’d stayed in closer contact recently. I didn’t even know she was engaged or anything.”
“Well, it happened so quickly—the relationship, the engagement, the breakup…all in the blink of an eye.”
Travis said, “I was Ellie’s neighbor. Didn’t know her well, but she always had a smile on her face whenever I saw her outside.”
The man Travis had identified as Ellie’s boss, the one from the cafeteria, came up to them. “Craig Danalchek. I’m so sorry for your loss. Ellie will be sorely missed. Such a hard worker, and great with the customers. Walked the fine line between persistent and pushy. She has some things at the office. No rush, whenever you’re ready to pick them up.”
Two co-workers came over, also offering condolences.
“I’m Camaya Campbell. Our cubicles were side by side. She used to bring banana bread to share with us. In the fall it was pumpkin bread.” Tears dripped from Camaya’s eyes. She pulled out a tissue. “I can’t do this. I need some air.”
“I’m going to see if she’s okay,” said Sara. She climbed up the stairs and into the church garden where Camaya was huddled on a metal bench.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I miss her so much. I should have been there for her.”
“What do you mean? You were her friend. I’m sure she knew that.”
“I knew something was wrong. She said nothing was wrong but I should have pried. I saw her slip out to take phone calls. She’d always taken calls right at her desk before. Instead of going to happy hour at Ralph’s she was always in a rush to get home. It wasn’t like her.”
“She must have been upset when the engagement broke off.”
“She was acting strange before that happened. I wish I’d done something.”
“I grew up with Ellie. She was one of the most stubborn people I’d ever met. If she didn’t want to talk, no amount of coaxing would change her mind.”
Sara heard a rustling coming from behind the shrubs. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes. It’s probably a stray cat. I’m going to head home now.”
After Camaya left, Sara heard the sound again. She got up and searched the garden. There. Preston Montague! He was wearing a hat and doing the turtle number but she recognized him. He ran toward the parking lot.
You’re not getting away this time. Travis came outside just in time.
“Quick, let’s get your car and follow that man.”
“What man?”
“Preston Montague. He just ran toward the parking lot.”
Travis wasted no time. They ran for his car.
“I can see him. Let’s go.”
Travis followed the Tesla. The paved road leading to the church turned into a gravel path.
“Where’s he going? There’s nothing but farmland down that road.”
“Stay on him.” Sara hung onto her seat as the road became bumpier and bumpier.
“I’m going to ruin my tires.” The gravel turned into a one-lane dirt path. “What are we going to do when we catch up to him? He may have a weapon.”
“If we see where he’s hiding, we can go back and tell the police. Phil thinks he’s left the country already.”
“Phil?”
“Detective Lambert. They’ve seen no sign of him. Of course, they were looking for a white BMW. I think he’s driving Dr. Peters’ car. A black Tesla.”
“Really? Look, he’s turning.” The dirt road became a grassy path. “He’s sure to see us if we go down there.”
“Park.”
“What?”
“Park behind that tree and we’ll go on foot.”
“Are you nuts? It’s freezing out and look at those shoes you’re wearing.”
“I can walk in these.” She looked down at the pumps that had been hurting her feet since she put them on. “I’ll be fine.”
Travis pulled the car behind the tree. “Come on.”
Sara slid before she got clear of the car. “I didn’t see that patch of ice. I’m fine.” She’d felt more secure balancing on her figure skates than she did in these heels.
Travis held her hand. “Look, There’s a hunting cabin. He’s going inside. We can turn around now.”
“Let’s see if we can peek in the window. See if he’s with anyone.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Then go back to the car and I’ll meet you back there when I’m done.” If it wasn’t so darn cold, she’d lose the shoes and go barefooted. Travis followed her.
When they got to the cabin, they ducked below one of the windows. Sara could hear Preston talking to someone. Was it in person, or on the phone? She peeked above the ledge.
Travis pulled her down and whispered, “What are you doing?”
“He’s talking to someone.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Trust me, he’s talking to someone.”
“Let’s not tip our hand. If he knows we found the cabin he’ll just hide somewhere else. Come on. Let’s go back. You can call Phil and tell him what we found.”
The touch of sarcasm made her warm inside. He’s jealous.
“You’re right.” She felt like her feet had sprouted a dozen blisters. Maybe going barefoot would be better after all. She took off her shoe.
“Are you crazy? You’ll get frostbite. Come on.” He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Put me down. I’m too heavy. You’ll rupture a disc or something.” His hair smelled like fresh linens. His shoulders were sturdy.
“It’s faster this way. The car isn’t far.”
His hands, which were wrapped around her thighs, moved to her derriere as he shifted her weight. His hands are so strong. Stop. You’re trying to escape a psycho killer and you’re thinking about how Travis’s hands feel?
When they got to the car, he put her right in the passenger seat and took her shoes out of his pocket. “You should burn these.”
“Done.”
On the way back, she called the police. Detective Lambert wasn’t in. The receptionist said he’d gone to a funeral. Duh. She’d forgotten she’d seen him in the back of the church.
“Tell her you want to speak to an officer if he’s not there.”
How would she explain why she and Travis followed Preston to a hunting cabin? “I’ll try his cell.”
“Why do you have his cell number?”
She turned away from him. “Phil, I tried the station but you weren’t there. Look, we stumbled on something really important. Preston Montague is hiding out in a hunting cabin on the outskirts of town. I’ll text you the directions.”
Chapter 14
When she got home, she went to her room, changed into comfy sweats, and pulled out her oboe. I’m almost afraid to try.
She soaked a reed and dug music out of her suitcase. If I recover, this will be the first piece I play with the Philharmonic. Brahms 4th Symphony. One of her all-time favorites, with beautiful but exposed oboe solos. Here goes.
She crowed on the reed, causing Panther to dart from the room, then warmed up on the opening bars of the Mozart Concerto. The reed’s not great, but my hands are working just fine. I miss playing so much. If I can’t return to my job, I’m not sure what I’ll do with my life.
She played a while, scraped the reed, then played some more. Just when she was beginning to feel optimistic, the fingers on her left hand froze in an unnatural position. Tears fell down her cheeks. She pulled apart the oboe, threw the reed against the wall, and buried her head in her pillow. When her pity session had run its course, she thought about the events earlier in the day.
Did Phil catch up to Preston Montague? Maybe by now he’d confessed and the case is closed. And he sounded so sincere the day he sn
uck into the house and pinned me. It won’t bring Ellie back, but at least Ellie’s parents will learn why he killed their daughter. She’d see Phil in a few hours. Should she call, or wait? She dug in her purse for her lucky penny. Heads I call, tails I wait. Tails. She got in the shower, leaving her phone on the bed.
Between the shower and when Phil picked her up promptly at 6:00, she fussed with her hair and tried on three different outfits. I almost forgot. She swabbed out her oboe and tucked the pieces back in their case just before the doorbell rang.
Phil wore a tan crewneck sweater and dark jeans. His hair was neatly combed to the side, held in place with a touch of gel. She got a whiff of citrus cologne when he helped her into her coat. He’s neat, clean, smart, well-dressed…why don’t I feel butterflies around him?
“You look nice,” said Phil. “Red’s a good color on you.” He handed her the tattered scarf.
“Thanks. You too. I’m dying to know. Did you catch Preston Montague?”
“No. We found the cabin but there was no sign of him.”
“He had to have left some clue behind. That proves he hasn’t left town.”
“Or hadn’t yet. I wish you hadn’t followed him. It tipped him off and gave him a chance to escape.”
“Seriously? We were doing you a favor. Besides, he didn’t see us. Maybe he’ll come back later. You should post an undercover patrol car out there.”
“Thanks for the advice. Want me to tell you how to play that instrument of yours?”
She rolled her eyes like a passive aggressive teen.
Phil pulled into the parking lot of La Pergola. It had a reputation supported by restaurant reviews for being the best Italian food in the county. Sara salivated like one of Pavlov’s dogs when she smelled the garlic bread the moment she stepped inside the restaurant.
The dining area was nearly at capacity. Sara and Phil followed the hostess to a linen-covered table with a robust, glowing candle in the center. She was glad she’d packed a second dress at the last second and didn’t have to wear the black one she’d worn to the funeral. She’d accessorized with a colorful statement necklace and diamond earrings that hung like filigree ropes and she could see them sparkle out of the corner of her eye as they caught the candlelight.
Phil ordered a bottle of wine. “What are you in the mood for?”
Sara read through the menu. It’d been a while since she’d eaten here. “I think I’ll try the gnocchi.” No-key, or no-chee? She could never remember which was correct so she mumbled over it. I’ve never eaten Italian food that could hold a candle to Mom’s.
“That sounds good.”
“Did you check for prints? What about tire marks?”
Phil closed his menu. “Like I said, the cabin was abandoned. Looked like no one had been there in quite some time.”
“Are you sure you got the right place? And did you check out Dr. Jailyn Peters? I hear she was the jealous type.”
“I’m sure. And Dr. Peters has an alibi for the night of the murder. She was volunteering at the clinic across town. Now, can we find something more pleasant than murder suspects to talk about? How’s your grandfather’s party coming along?”
She’d almost forgotten about it. “I’m ordering the cake tomorrow and I have to check on the hall. Mom and I are going decoration shopping.” She wished Scott could be there instead of in the middle of a desert on the other side of the globe.
“Sounds like fun.”
“You should come. The more the merrier.”
“I’ll probably be working, but if not, I’ll stop by.”
“Mom makes way too much food and she loves to show off her cooking. That gene must skip generations.”
“I’ll check my schedule. Thanks. How’s the family business going?”
“It’s getting hard for my dad to keep up. Grandpa isn’t able to help much anymore. He’s talking about selling the business, which I know would destroy him.”
“Can’t he hire help?”
“It’s not so easy. If you know a skilled oboe maker who will work for peanuts, send him on over.”
“Maybe he’ll enjoy being retired. My father and his new wife spend their days in Utah on the ski slopes or riding horses.”
“We don’t have that kind of money. If he retires, they’ll barely make ends meet.”
The waiter set the food on the table. “More wine?”
Phil lifted his glass. “Yes, thanks.” He reached across the table and gently took Sara’s hands. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I’m really attracted to you. I’m hoping we can get to know each other better.”
Sara gently pulled her hands away. “I just got out of a bad relationship, and I have a job waiting back in San Francisco. Let’s take it a step at a time and see where things go.” She hoped she’d have her job waiting. So far, the exercises Travis had recommended seemed to help, but nowhere near enough to eradicate the problem. She remembered her frustrating practice session earlier today.
“Here’s to seeing how things go.” He raised his glass. “I got out of a bad relationship not too long ago also. I’ve dated a little, but nothing serious. You get to that age where you want to put down roots, have a family. You know what I mean?”
“I do. I feel that way myself at times. With my symphony schedule and having to keep up my playing, I didn’t think about it so much. Now that I have time on my hands, I can picture myself as a mother.”
“I’m at the point where I’d like nothing more than to come home at the end of the day and eat dinner with a wife and a couple of kids. And a dog or two. Do you like dogs?”
“I’m more of a cat person. I can’t have pets in my place.”
“Do you like living in San Francisco?”
“Yeah. There’s always something going on, and the weather is pleasant, other than some rain.”
“So you don’t miss the snowy, gray winters?”
“A little snow now and then would be nice—as long as I didn’t have to drive to work in it. What I do miss is the sense of familiarity here––having people around that you’ve known your whole life. I don’t even know my neighbors back home. Then again, with my schedule, I have to spend a lot of time alone practicing and making reeds. I don’t have time to get to meet people outside of my orchestra colleagues.” And that turned out well. It was awful being in the same room as Brandon and the violinist he was still dating.
“Have you ever considered moving back and helping with the family business?”
Unfortunately, she had been considering it. It might not be a choice. “I’d miss playing in the symphony. It’s who I am. Do you think you’d be happy doing something other than law enforcement?”
“No. Well, maybe.” He took a bite of food. “When I retire, I’m going to breed standard Poodles.”
“Those cute little puff balls? My aunt had one.”
He took out his phone. “Not the little toy poodles, the big ones. See?”
“They’re—cute.” What else could she say? Raising dogs wasn’t on her bucket list and the oversized poodles just looked wrong. Then again, it must be nice to have a passion outside of work, like he did. She watched the hostess seat a couple next to the window.
“Are you ready for dessert?”
She was about to utter a rude excuse me, then realized he meant it literally.
“They have Italian cheesecake. And cappuccino.”
“Sure.” She looked toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that Jailyn Peters? And the head of Medivision, Ellie’s boss.”
Phil turned to look. “Yeah, that’s her. And the man she’s with is Craig Danalchek. We interviewed both of them.”
This was the second time she’d seen them talking together. He looked different, dressed in corduroys rather than a suit and tie. “And they’re dating?”
He turned around again. “It doesn’t look romantic to me. They’re probably talking business. He runs the medical device company; she uses artificial joints and such.”
They ordered
a cheesecake to share. Sara watched Jailyn Peters head towards the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.”
When she neared the rest room, she heard Jailyn whispering on her phone. “I’ll come by tonight. Stay put and stop panicking. Nothing’s changed.”
She ducked past her into a stall. I’ll bet she’s talking to Preston Montague. Stay put? He must have gone back to the cabin.
When she got back to the table, Phil had divided the slice of cake into two identical halves. “I waited but it wasn’t easy.”
“Looks delicious.” She took a bite.
Phil leaned over. “You have a little bit of…” He pointed to his outer lip.
She patted with her napkin. “Better?”
“No, let me.” He dabbed gently at the corner of her mouth. “There.”
She watched Jailyn Peters and Ellie’s boss, Craig Danalchek, leave the restaurant. If that was a date, it mustn’t have gone well. They were in and out in record time and looks like she didn’t even finish her dinner.
Phil pushed back from the table. “I’m stuffed. Maybe a little walk in the night air? Or we can go back to my place for a drink.”
“I had a lovely time but I’m beat. Maybe next time.”
“Let’s get you home.”
The whole ride back, Sara was nervous Phil would try to kiss her goodnight, but he simply walked her to her door and told her he’d had a great time. She locked the door and set the alarm. As soon as she heard his car pull away, she went to work.
If Jailyn is heading to the cabin, this may be the only chance of nailing her. She called Travis. No answer. Where is he? Surely he hasn’t gone to bed yet, and he doesn’t work nights. She put her coat back on and walked across to his place. The porch light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. She knocked. Maybe he’s gone to bed. When she didn’t get a response, she retreated back to Ellie’s.
Should I go it alone? This can’t wait. She called Travis one more time and left a message. She took out the penny in her pocket and gave it a flip. Heads. I’m going. I hope I can find this place in the dark. She threw on sweats and stuck her lucky penny in the pocket of her jacket. Shaking but determined, she headed to the cabin. What choice did she have?