“So, Charlie came back and told me where he had to go. Yesterday he had a guy come in with a prescription, and he couldn’t fill it that moment and wanted to check with the prescribing doctor, so he said he’d deliver it to him, though we’re officially closed today. He checked it out, the script is valid, so he delivered it to the guy out at the motel on the highway between here and Wolverhampton.”
“Okay. So—”
“So, the guy’s name is Terry Xylander, and he’s been booked there since Wednesday.”
“Oh, really? And he’s still there. So . . . Terry has been local, and has been following Brandi. It’s creepy that he followed us all the way to Grand Bend. Of course, Brandi makes it easy. Anyone could go into stalker mode and friend her on social media and she’d accept them.”
“Wait, there’s more,” Val said. “Charlie was talking to the motel cleaner. You know what Charlie is like, gab gab gab.”
Jaymie smiled and said yes. Charlie was a retired pharmacist who was in charge of the Emporium pharmacy before Val. She served an apprenticeship with him. He knew everyone and everything local, and whoever he didn’t know he got to know. Quickly. By asking copious questions of and about them.
“It turns out that Terry has a boat trailer parked at the motel. He had to get permission for an extra space, and he rented a spot at the Queensville Marina for a week for a Starcraft with an outboard motor. Said he’s been doing some fishing, but Charlie didn’t see any of the normal fishing gear.”
Jaymie’s heart sank. Terry had been furious in Grand Bend when he had accused Brandi of hooking up with a guy. He was jealous, and jealousy was a strong motive to kill Mario Horvat. With a boat to go anywhere, he could have been on the island following Brandi the night she was with Mario. He’d know who the guy was, what he looked like, and if he followed him home, he’d know where he lived. He could have been the person Jaymie heard skulking in the bushes, and he easily could have stolen the pie iron, using it to kill Mario and then leaving it there because . . . why? Maybe, if he knew about Kory’s penchant for theft, it was to implicate that young man, but that was a little overly complicated.
The simpler explanation was that he left the pie iron at the scene of the crime to implicate Brandi. Her heart thudded. It all went together too easily. Something occurred to her in that moment . . . Brandi on her cell phone the morning after the fire, looking scared. Did she know, then, that Terry was at the motel? Jaymie would bet she did. But what did that mean? She wasn’t thinking that Brandi had anything to do with the murder. At that point, as far as she knew, Brandi didn’t know Mario’s real name and who he was.
“Are you there, Jaymie?”
“I am,” she replied. She had strolled down the hall as they talked and came out to the lobby and stood, wondering what to do next. This was important news, news that the police must have. She explained what she had been thinking, that Terry’s motive was jealousy, but also to implicate her friend. “I have to talk to the police, don’t I?”
“We have to give them the opportunity to solve this, no matter who is impacted,” Val said.
“What about the LiveLoveLife app and the possibility of snooping on who someone knew or was meeting in real life?”
“I haven’t gotten ahold of Will yet, but soon.”
Jaymie saw, out of the corner of her eye, Gabriela, Logan, Fenix and Tiffany heading into the restaurant. “I have to go,” she murmured. “I’ll talk to you soon. Hopefully I’ll have more information.”
Jaymie waited until they were settled at a table and had ordered, then entered the restaurant. Good; they were at a table with four chairs. Fenix was in one of the high chairs, pulled up to the corner of the table between Gabriela and Logan. Jaymie entered, got a takeout coffee and turned, “seeing” them for the first time. “Oh my gosh, Gabriela, I’m happy to see you here,” she said, weaving between the tables toward theirs. As it was Sunday afternoon, people would have brunched at the big Sunday Brunch Buffet, which the inn was famous for, and were now cleared out. The restaurant was virtually empty. “You don’t mind if I sit here?” she said, taking a page out of Tiffany’s playbook, assuming she was welcome. “Great, thanks. Nice to see you all!”
She sat down and brightly observed the faces around the table, which, apart from Fenix, who was chewing on Cheerios, were a study in varied aspects of unwelcome. They did not look happy; it was either they were not happy to see her or they were not happy being together. To get past the awkwardness she felt butting in, she focused on the child. “Oh my gosh, this little munchkin!” she said, jumping up and circling the table to crouch down by Fenix, who was a cherubic darling with blonde hair and chubby cheeks. “Sweetie, you are growing so fast!” She looked around at the adult faces above her. “At my wedding she was just a baby; she’s growing like a bad weed. That’s what my Grandma Leighton used to say about me. Growing like a bad weed.”
She took her seat again as the waiter brought the food and left them to it. She examined Logan, a nice average-looking guy, then switched her gaze to Tiffany. The resemblance was plain now that she saw the siblings together. Their features were similar, and both were sandy-haired and rigidly proper about their clothing and grooming. Logan’s hair was perfectly coiffed, and his tailored short-sleeve shirt wrinkle-free, as were his chino pants.
“It’s nice to see you again, Logan,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since my wedding.”
He nodded. “How is your husband?”
“Jakob is great. He and my daughter are in Poland right now on a family visit. My stepdaughter’s mother was Polish.”
He nodded but had clearly lost interest in what she had to say as he cut up some chicken for his daughter. She told him she didn’t want chicken, she wanted a hot dog instead. He said no, she was going to eat the chicken.
“You’re such a good father,” Jaymie said, watching him.
He smiled, the first genuine expression she had seen on his pale face. He watched his daughter spoon macaroni and cheese into her mouth. “It’s easy when you’ve got the world’s best daughter,” he said, wiping her hands with a cloth.
“Tiffany, I’m curious,” Jaymie said finally, turning to Logan’s sister, who was silently eating a club sandwich and checking her cell phone. “You hinted while you were my guest about something happening at Logan and Gabriela’s house that forced you and Logan to come here and stay at the Queensville Inn. What was that?”
Gabriela’s breathing was shallow, her gaze pleading. “It’s something minor,” she said, answering for her sister-in-law. “A little problem that they could have solved easily without upsetting me.”
“You call the house almost blowing up something minor?” Tiffany said, glaring at her sister-in-law.
Jaymie was genuinely shocked. “What do you mean? Gabriela, what happened?”
“You hate me, Tiff . . . you always have, and I don’t know why,” Gabriela sobbed. “I never did anything to you!” There were fat tears in her eyes.
Fenix stared at her mother, one little fist holding the spoon of mac and cheese, alarmed by her mom’s tears. She whimpered. “Mommy, you okay?” she asked.
Distracted, Gabriela patted her little girl’s cheek. “I’m fine, honey. I’m good. You eat up your yummy lunch.” She turned to Jaymie. “You saw how worried I was about Logan, right?” she murmured, leaning toward her. “I wondered why he hadn’t texted me? Apparently there was some problem with the gas in the house. I left, and . . . and there was some problem, the pilot lights were all out. The house could’ve blown up. If Logan’s mom hadn’t come to drop Fenix off, I don’t know what would have happened.”
Logan, stroking his daughter’s silky hair, said, “Fenix saved my life.” He turned to look at Jaymie and his stiffness faltered. “My dad has heart troubles. Mom and Dad were taking care of Fenix while Gabriela was gone because I had to work. But Dad had some problems. Mom brought Fenix back to our place so I could look after her while she took Dad to the hospital. She found me still
sleeping and smelled gas. She called 911 and got me out.”
“But nothing happened, Lo!” Gabriela said. “Nothing!”
“But it could have. The whole damn house could have blown to smithereens. They were lucky,” Tiffany said, her voice harsh, her gaze full of loathing.
“What are you two saying?” Jaymie asked, frowning, looking back and forth between the siblings. “That Gabriela did something deliberate to the house? To the gas?”
“You tell me how every pilot light in the whole house—gas stove, furnace, water heater—were all out. Every single one of them,” Tiffany said, tapping the table with a sharp fingernail, making a clicking noise. “They had to call the fire department. It could have been tragic.”
Jaymie didn’t know what to think or what to believe. Of the three, Gabriela was the only one she knew, and the friend she had known for more than fifteen years would never have done that. And something was wrong with what they were saying. “But . . .” She squinted and shook her head. “Okay, I know a thing or two about gas appliances and furnaces. Gabriela, modern appliances have a device that shuts off the gas if the pilot light goes out.”
There was silence for a long moment, and a shifty glance between Tiffany and Logan.
“Wait, what? Is that true?” Gabriela asked, her eyes wide.
Jaymie nodded. “There shouldn’t have been any gas in the house, at least not enough to smell. As soon as a pilot light goes out, in thirty seconds a valve shuts off the gas.” It was like a revelation to her friend, Jaymie could tell; her face cleared, and then she got angry. Jaymie remembered what Brandi’s friend had said when texted, that there was no commotion in the neighborhood or at the Offerman home. “And I happen to know that there were no fire engines at your house, no emergency vehicles of any kind.”
“Liars!” Gabriela set her food aside and said, her chin up. “You were blaming me for doing something I didn’t do, and even if I did, wouldn’t have hurt you!”
Logan, his expression stony, said, “Are you saying you’d prefer if I had died? Did you, or did you not, blow out the pilot lights?”
Gabriela’s face twisted and tears began streaming down her face. “You’re so mean, Lo! Tiffany has gotten to you. You know she hates me, she hates that I took you away from her, her precious baby brother. It’s sick, what she’s doing, and I can’t believe you’re letting her!”
Tiffany and Logan exchanged a look. Gabriela hadn’t exactly answered, Jaymie realized, but that could have been emotion, not evasion.
“Sit down, Gabriela, you’re making a scene,” her husband said, his voice tense.
It was true; people seated nearby were staring.
“Is that what you care about? Making a scene?” She stopped, though, as more people entered and stared at her with curiosity.
“Gabriela, I care about you,” Logan said, his voice filled with tension. “I want what’s best for us.”
Jaymie, watching him, heard the agony in his voice. He was deeply troubled, and gripped Fenix’s spoon in his hand so tight his knuckles were white. The little girl was alarmed, ready to cry any moment.
“Why should I believe you when you follow me here and accuse me of something so awful? Hey, maybe Tiffany did it,” she hissed. “If it happened at all! Maybe darling Tiffany blew all the goldarned pilot lights out!” She took a deep shuddering breath, her eyes flooded with tears. “I need some fresh air,” she sobbed. She stormed out.
“What actually happened?” Jaymie asked, looking from one sibling to the other.
“What we said. You don’t have to believe us,” Tiffany said coolly. “We know you’ll side with your friend. But it’s true.”
“But it can’t have been dangerous,” Jaymie insisted. “Modern technology wouldn’t have allowed it.” Again, she looked at each of them. She waited, then said, “There was no gas in your home. Come on, admit it.”
“Does it matter? Would you have preferred it if the house had blown up or if Logan had suffocated?” Tiffany asked. “It’s enough that she tried to kill him.”
Jaymie shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. She was genuinely worried when she couldn’t get ahold of her husband.” Gabriela was her friend, and friends stick by each other. “And I know for a fact that you’re lying about calling the fire department. There were no emergency crews at your house.”
The two exchanged looks. Tiffany shook her head as Logan was about to say something. He closed his mouth and stonily looked off into the distance.
Their behavior made her uneasy and she was getting angry. “Tiffany, I think you should come out to the island and get all your stuff,” she said, her tone stiff. “You’re not welcome back in the cottage.”
She walked away to find Gabriela but her friend was gone. Jaymie was left wondering, what was that about? Had she actually tried to kill her husband? It seemed unlikely, and those two siblings were lying about at least some parts of their story. It was confusing. She did suspect that Gabriela was cheating on her husband, but even so, why would she kill Mario, if he was her lover? It seemed more likely that Logan and/or Tiffany killed Mario.
Maybe. Possibly. Or maybe it was Terry, who she now knew had been around at the right time and had a boat, thus giving him the ability to kill Mario in the middle of the night and get back to his motel room with no one the wiser. Jaymie sighed and returned to the inn and headed for Mrs. Stubbs’s room.
Her friend was throwing a doggie toy for Hoppy to retrieve, which he did only after shaking the stuffing out of it. “Where did you get that?” Jaymie asked.
“Dee knows that you often bring Hoppy here to visit, so she bought me a doggie toy to play with him,” Mrs. Stubbs said.
“Aw, that’s sweet.” She made a cup of tea for them both and sat down in one of the chairs by the open sliding glass door. She told her friend what she had heard among Gabriela, Logan and Tiffany, and all that she conjectured, including Brandi, Terry, and her suspicions regarding that toxic relationship.
The woman nodded. “That makes sense of something I heard among them yesterday evening. DeeDee took me for a walk last evening. We went past the playground in the park, and I saw your friend with her husband and sister-in-law watching their little girl play. I told Dee to wheel me close by and turn up my hearing aids. I don’t do it often, but sometimes I can turn them up and hear better than people with normal hearing. Then I sent her to get me an ice cream.” She smiled, a sly look. “Dee can always be distracted by ice cream. And children. The two together . . . I’m lucky she remembered I was there at all. The adults sat together, but looked tense. Your friend complained that she was being trapped.”
“Trapped. That’s worrisome,” Jaymie said. “I want to believe Gabriela, that she didn’t do anything, and that Logan and Tiffany are lying about her blowing out the pilot lights in their house.”
“You want to believe her, but you’re not sure if you should?”
Jaymie nodded. “Did you hear anything else?”
“No, unfortunately, just bickering and sniping. You know, I had a thought: if you want to find anything out about this Terry fellow and his boat, perhaps check with the marina staff. Maybe they saw or heard something.”
“Good idea. I’d better get going,” Jaymie said. She leaned down and kissed Mrs. Stubbs’s check. “Thanks for looking after my doggo for me.”
She left through the sliding doors. Gabriela sat on the curb by the parking lot, her head in her hands. Jaymie sat down next to her, and Hoppy pushed his nose up against her hand.
She looked up, wiping away her tears, leaving a smear of mascara along her cheek. “I don’t know what to do, Jaymie.” She sounded frightened, as anyone would who was being trapped by loved ones.
“What happened at the house? I thought everything was good between you and Logan.”
“It was . . . once.” She scuffed her sandals in the grit gathered by a curbstone on the parking lot pavement. “You don’t know what it’s like, having your husband’s family hate you. Tiffany has
been trying from day one to undermine me. And now she’s concocted this weird conspiracy theory that I tried to kill Logan by blowing out the pilot lights. I mean, how dumb do they think I am?”
“You did once believe that a water heater was something in the tap,” Jaymie said, smiling.
Gabriela managed a weak smile and sniffed. “This is all Tiffany. It’s her trying to pit Logan against me and make me out to be the bad guy so they can get Fenix away from me.”
“So Logan and Tiffany together are lying, or did Tiffany do something to the pilot lights and tell Logan it was you?”
She shrugged helplessly. “I wish I knew. I don’t know where to turn.”
Jaymie thought of an old movie her grandma loved, Gaslight. It was about a woman slowly being driven mad by her husband, who wanted to get rid of her. He made her think she was imagining things until she questioned her own sanity. Was that what Logan and Tiffany were doing, setting Gabriela up for some reason? The thought chilled Jaymie to the bone. She had to find the answers.
She put her arm over Gabriela’s shoulders and hugged her friend. “I’ve told Tiffany she isn’t welcome out at the cottage, and to come and retrieve her stuff.” She watched her friend, wishing she could climb into her brain and find the truth. It wasn’t that she doubted Gabriela, it was just . . . she sighed. She doubted her, she admitted to herself. It was dumb, maybe, because the most likely solution to the murder mystery was that Kory had killed Mario in a fit of drunken anger. The second most likely solution was that Terry, jealous of his wife’s involvement with Mario, had killed the guy and tried to pin the blame on his ex. “Come back with me now. You can’t stay with Logan. Is Fenix okay with him?”
Gabriela nodded through tears. “He’s such a great dad. He loves her. He’d do anything for her.”
Anything? What did that mean, and how far would he go to keep his daughter, if he and his wife were headed toward a split?
Jaymie had a lot to do first. She left Gabriela with Val, at the Emporium. Charlie was coming back to retrieve Maxie, so Val had to wait for him before she could lock up, and then she would take Gabriela back to her place, where Jaymie could meet them. Val took Hoppy, too.
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