There were so many other things, important things I should be doing instead hunting for books. Things I needed to do to prove my uncle was innocent. I needed to talk to Mrs. Podeski’s husband, Pavel. I wanted to corner Allan about the fight and find out what he was after in the house. I wanted to quietly go over everything with Nancy again too. But Bill had made a point that morning of insisting he’d help with the book research. And Nancy was making herself scarce even though I knew she was dying to ask me questions.
So Bill being around was both good and bad for all those reasons. I was happy to see him but ticked with him at the same time. It was like he knew I needed a distraction from the pressures I felt about Barney and, in his gentle, unassuming way, wanted to settle me down with some completely unrelated work. That made me think about my mother and how she had dived into staying busy when my dad disappeared. I was beginning to understand why she’d done that. Burying herself in work was like putting her trauma into a closet and locking it away for a while. Long enough at least to breathe again.
“So you want me to join all these groups?” he asked.
I nodded. “Log in and start asking people what they really think about the books on our list. Try to figure out which ones may appeal to people in Glacier.” I had taken the New York Times best sellers list and picked a number of possible selections for the store. I didn’t trust the status of some of those books but I had nowhere else to start. Bill, cautious as ever, hadn’t reminded me what I’d said before about best seller lists being bogus.
“I haven’t read any of these titles.”
“Look up some reviews,” I said with a little more frustration in my voice than I meant to convey.
“There’re twenty or more chat groups. It’ll take me most of the day.”
“Do you want to help or not?” I stood up and motioned for him to take my seat.
He flopped down with a frown and cracked his knuckles. “Being the boss doesn’t mean you can be bossy,” he said with childish inflection. Then he leaned in to read the screen, dismissing me!
“Sorry,” I replied, gently poking his shoulder with my fist. “If you aren’t feeling well, go home. And if you stay, just know I trust your judgement however you decide to do it.”
I left him tapping on the keyboard and moved into The Grind. The café only had two customers and Nancy was sitting with them, chatting.
“Got a sec?”
Nancy smiled at the two rancher types and joined me at the display counter. “So?” Her smile was sly. “He spent the night here?”
“In Barney’s room if you must know.”
“Did you two get a little rough in Barney’s room?” She tickled my side with a finger. “What happened to him?”
“He went to the Long Branch to ask some questions for me.”
Nancy’s eyes bulged.
“Allan,” I said.
Nancy shook her head.
“He found out that Mrs. Podeski may have been blackmailing Dr. Santos.”
Nancy’s lower jaw dropped. “You’re kidding! Over what?”
I shrugged.
“Maybe it has something to do with what she stole?”
“My thoughts exactly.” I reached out and held her hands. “I’ve got to talk to Allan and I’m going to try and find Pavel Podeski,” I whispered.
“You’ve got to tell the chief first,” Nancy whispered back.
“Bill doesn’t want me to tell the police about his fight. I don’t know why. Machismo or something.”
“You have to at least tell the chief about the blackmail thing.”
“And if he asks me how I found out?”
Nancy pulled her hands away from me. “Confidential source.” She smiled. “Tell him you asked around. He knows you’re being nosy. Tell him someone told you about the blackmail but they don’t want the police to know who it was.”
I thought about what she said and finally nodded. “You’re right,” I said, sighing. “At least it casts some doubt on Uncle Barney’s guilt.”
“But you have to do it fast.” Nancy leaned on the counter and crossed her arms. “Now don’t get upset. We both expected this.”
“What?”
“I was talking to Deputy Amos, this morning. You’ve seen him at the station. He’s the guy with the peach fuzz moustache. He came over early this morning to ask me on a date and he brought me—”
“Nancy!” I nearly shouted in exasperation.
“He told me Barney was going to be moved today.”
“Moved?”
“He’s been formerly charged with the murder. They’re taking him to the penitentiary in Eugene.”
I felt exposed, or at least I felt guilty. The chief was in the station alone. Peach Fuzz must have been manning a radar trap somewhere. McCaffrey got up from his desk with slow determination, like he wished he was somewhere else. I leaned on the counter, waiting.
“You missed him,” he said. His voice carried a note of honest sadness. “State troopers came about an hour ago.”
“So you did charge him.”
He nodded, flatly resting his hands on the counter. “Didn’t have any choice.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
He shrugged.
I felt like I was sinking into the linoleum. “I could have seen him. At least say goodbye.”
“I’m sure you’ll get a chance to see him in Eugene. The trial will be a ways off.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, Ms. Willoughby. It’s the way things get done.”
I had to fight back my tears. “I know,” I said softly. I clutched my handbag closed and forced myself to speak. “You wanted me to make a statement.”
The chief pulled the swinging half-door into the cubby of office desks behind the counter and waved me in without a word. As he typed out what I had to say about the babysitter, all I could think about was Dr. Santos being poisoned. “My dog was poisoned with the same stuff,” I finally said almost parenthetically. “Maybe it was the same person.”
McCaffrey pulled the paper from his typewriter and offered a pen for my signature. “Read this and then sign if it’s exactly what you told me.” He waited as I read my story about Carol and confirmed it as correct. “Seems likely though, doesn’t it?” he said.
I pushed the signed sheet of paper back and waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I decided to take a chance. “Do you think Dr. Santos’s death has anything to do with Mrs. Podeski dying? I mean, do you think they’re connected somehow?”
He only smiled. “To be perfectly honest, I have no idea.”
“Do you have any new evidence? You’ve charged Barney and, even though I’m someone with no police experience, it seems to me your evidence is all circumstantial.”
His stare was long and silent. “Okay. I’ll tell you a few things but, if you ever tell anyone you heard it from me, I’ll deny it. Understand?”
I held my breath and nodded. “The CSI guys got lots of fingerprints at Utta’s. All of them who you’d expect, including Barney’s.”
“We know he went there. That doesn’t mean anything,” I answered defensively.
He nodded. “But it’s another stick in the stack proving Barney had been there. And then there’s the button.”
“The button?” I acted surprised. I knew that button had to have some significance, but what?
“She had a button clenched in her fist.”
I waited, holding my breath.
“Same kind as the others on Barney’s jacket. Now that doesn’t prove much. Those buttons are pretty common around here. Almost every guy around here has one of those plaid shirts. And there was no button missing on Barney’s when we arrested him.”
My smile signaled how grateful I was at that news, but then I frowned. “His lawyer doesn’t think that will help Barney’s case at all. He had time to sew on another if he’d lost one at Mrs. Podeski’s.”
The chief nodded. “He’s right. Barney could have sewed on a new one.”
I chortled at that. “
Barney has always been a messy dresser. I remember when I was a kid he wore the same shirt for what must have been weeks. He puts dirty socks back in his drawer with his clean ones, for heaven’s sake.”
The chief smiled. “Sounds like Barney.” He let out a soft laugh and patted his desk. “But the Assistant DA who has taken this case thinks the prints and the button are significant evidence anyway. Enough to raise questions as to Barney’s innocence.”
“Chief!” I protested in exasperation. “It’s all circumstantial!”
“Maybe. The CSI Boys took plaster casts of the tire tracks at Utta’s place. I have to admit there were lots of them in the yard, but some matched Barney’s car.”
“Of course they would. We know he went there.”
“They were fresh. That would say he’d been there very recently. That he went to Utta’s that night when he admits they argued. It’s another stick, Ms. Willoughby. Another stick.”
“Were his tracks the only recent ones?” I asked.
The chief shook his head. “No. There were two other sets. We’re still trying to track down who they belong to.”
I crossed my arms to watch the chief and began to feel settled for the first time in days. In reality this was all good news. Nothing pointed specifically at any surprising conclusion about Barney. Even I could tell their case against him was weak. “They’re probably local, right? You can tell what kind of vehicle made the tracks, right? Finding who made them can’t be rocket science can it?”
“You want me to check every car and truck in town? Is that what you want me to do?”
I unfolded my arms and rubbed his desk with one hand. “Just your other suspects?”
The chief frowned. “That would work if we had any.” He leaned forward to pat my hand but I pulled it away. “Ms. Willoughby,” he said softly, “I’ve told you about all the things that point to Barney’s guilt. All the sticks. We had to charge him and it’s up the court now. That assistant DA is eager. He thinks there’s enough to convict Barney and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.”
“Even though now you know Dr. Santos’s alibi doesn’t hold water? Were his car tracks there? He was looking for Utta, remember? Doesn’t that change things for Barney?”
“He has an alibi and what you said about Carol’s daughter babysitting shakes it. But his wife has confirmed that alibi. It’s ‘he said, she said’. I’ll have to find some proof. I’ll admit the fact Carol’s daughter says he was late puts his alibi in question, but it doesn’t prove anything other than the fact he was late. It’s new evidence all right, but not knowing where the doc was doesn’t clear Barney. There we none of the doc’s prints at the scene.” The chief gave me a weak smile. “I know you’re worried and want to believe Barney is innocent, but we still have the problem of the fight he admits to having with Utta, the fact he broke down after years being sober and got drunk that night, the scratches on his arm, and his DNA under her nails. It doesn’t look good for Barney and that’s the truth.”
I got up slowly and stared into his eyes. “Uncle Barney is innocent and I’m going to find out who did this even if you won’t.”
The chief rubbed his forehead. “You’re going to be a thorn to me until this is settled. I get that.” He paused. Evidently all this gave him a headache. “Maybe there’s a way we can work together.”
“How?”
“You’ve been asking a lot of people questions and they probably told you things they wouldn’t tell me. Probably things you don’t recognize as important. But that’s okay. I want you to continue doing that. I won’t get in your way or try to stop you, but when you hear something that has any relevance at all, come and tell me. I’ve gotten nowhere with Pavel or Allan. Maybe if you talk to them …”
“I was going to talk to them both today anyway,” I said, a little perturbed he thought he had to give me permission. I matched the stone-cold stare he was giving me with one of my own. “If I talk to somebody and they tell me something but they don’t want to get involved, what then? Will you force me to tell you who I was talking to?
The chief took a deep breath and sat back down. “Not telling me would be impeding this case. There’re laws against that Ms. Willoughby.”
“Well, that’s it then. You know some people won’t talk to you so you want me to be your little spy.” I screwed up my courage. “I’m willing to work with you but only because I want to prove Barney is innocent. We both know in this town the minute anyone thinks I broke my promise and told a secret they’ll clam up.”
The chief nodded. “You’re right. Okay. If you learn something in confidence, I’ll let you keep it that way.” He held out a hand but I didn’t shake it.
“We have a deal?” I asked.
“It’s a deal.”
“Then there’s something else,” I said. “I learned an interesting bit of news about Mrs. Podeski yesterday.”
The chief squinted.
“You said we had a deal.”
“We do,” he replied. “Go on.”
“This person told me he knew Mrs. Podeski was blackmailing the dentist. I don’t know what she was blackmailing him about, just that she was and had been doing it for a while.”
The chief started scribbling on his notepad. “This person knew her well?”
“Well enough.” I left the fact nobody besides Barney seemed to know Mrs. Podeski well hanging between us.
“No idea what the blackmail was about?”
I shook my head. “But it’s some new information, right? A new clue? Maybe Pavel or Allan knows what she was doing.”
The chief’s smile was sarcastic. “I don’t think Pavel knows squat. He never was the brightest bulb and besides, the two of them barely talked to each other. When they did it was usually to argue, though far as I know, he never raised a hand to her. He hasn’t been in here once asking about the case like you have either. I think he’s happy she’s dead. Allan is another story entirely.”
The chief rolled his chair across the wooden floor to an aged filing cabinet in the corner of the room. He flipped through files in the second drawer until he found the folder he wanted, pulled it out, and dropped it on his desk. “Allan has been in and out of trouble for years. Every time I thought I’d caught him on something I could charge him for, the people he’d harmed or stole from always came to me and dropped the charges. Got so I thought he was covered with Teflon. Nothing seemed to stick to that pest.”
“Maybe Mrs. Podeski had something to do with that,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“Just a hunch. No one I talked to seemed to like Mrs. Podeski very much, but, by the same token, none of them seemed to hate her all that much either. At least not enough to hurt her. Maybe all the people that Allan got in trouble with had reasons not to press charges.”
“More blackmail, you mean?”
I shrugged. “It seems to me that if you clean a person’s house, there’s a good chance you’ll find a few secrets, that’s all. She cleaned lots of houses but none of them for very long.” I got up, adjusted my jacket, and left the chief to think about what I’d said. I still hadn’t told him about the white Jeep I’d seen at the dentist’s office because I’d decided to keep that little secret to myself a while longer.
14
I started walking again. It was an awesome day, with a slight breeze stirring the aspen leaves into shivers of light, and the mountains basking. It’s still beautiful here. If only I could relax and enjoy it, feel like I did when I was a kid: happy and carefree. Not frantic with anxiety.
Reaching the Lee Hotel, I went inside to find Pavel and Allan, but neither of them was there. The clerk told me that Pavel had taken to spending most of his time in the Long Branch, so I went down the street and found him sitting by himself at the bar.
“Mr. Podeski?” I asked, lightly tapping his shoulder as I slid onto the bar stool next to him. “My name is Melanie Willoughby. I’m Barney’s niece.”
Pavel’s hand clenched into a fist but
he didn’t look at me.
“I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
Pavel turned. His mouth was creased with a deep-set frown. I made a point of obviously looking down at his fist and frowned at him as well. That seemed to make him relax. He slowly held the same hand out to me. “Pavel,” he said politely. He was wearing a plaid shirt and I noticed the cuffs were rolled up and unbuttoned. He had a blue tattoo running from his right wrist up his arm. A flower stem? A coiled snake? I took his hand and squeezed it gently.
“My condolences, Pavel. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
As I said it, the bartender arrived. I ordered a soda water and then turned back to him. “I have a few questions I really need to get answers to, Pavel.”
He nodded slowly.
“I think the police have made a big mistake,” I began. “From everything I’ve learned about my uncle and your wife …” I paused and cleared my throat. “Pavel, did you know they loved each other?”
He shook his head.
“You had no idea?”
“Utta was good at keeping secrets,” he said, focusing on something straight ahead. “I knew nothing about it.”
What a sad life you must have had! “People are saying my uncle used to visit her when you were away and that they saw each other on Baking Day. That it had been going on for a long time.”
Pavel snorted. “Everyone’s telling me that now.” He shook his head. “She went her own way,” he said softly.
“But you stayed with her anyway,” I said.
Pavel sipped. “For Allan’s sake. Then she took him out of school. We never saw things the same way after that and he grew up to be a piss-ant like her.” He shook his head ruefully. “I shoulda made changes … I had …”He stopped talking and looked away. “I shoulda.”
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