Three-Day Weekends are Murder
Page 5
“Wait here, babe,” Paul told her at the curb. “I’ll get the car.”
She clutched her sweater tighter and thought about having hot tea when she got home. A hand grabbed her shoulder. She jumped and spun around.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the man said.
“Oh, it’s you, Francisco.” She laughed in nervous relief. “This place gets sort of creepy when the lights go out.” She noted the creases across his forehead and his sorrowful expression. “You look worried. Is something wrong?”
“I can’t stop thinking of the necklace. The police came and took a report, but they don’t believe me about the mistress. They think that I am loco.”
She smiled and took his hand. “I’m sure they don’t have that opinion of you, but they’re trained to see things from a logical point of view. I doubt they believe in ghosts. They assume thieves take the form of human bodies.”
He wrung his hands. “They will never recover the necklace if they don’t look beyond what they can see and touch.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone must communicate with Consuela. By reputation, she was a harsh woman, but a fair one. If she knows how much trouble she’s causing…” He looked over his shoulder as if someone might be listening. “If she knows I could lose my job…”
“You think she’d return the necklace,” Lea concluded.
“I’m sure she would. Maybe she took it because there’s something else she wants. If we ask her what it is, I’ll gladly give it to her.”
Lea didn’t want to hurt the curator’s feelings, but she couldn’t help smiling. As Paul pulled to the curb, she took a step forward and reached for the door. “Good luck, Francisco. I hope she listens to you.”
Francisco’s next words stopped her. “It’s not me who should speak to Consuela. I want you to do it.”
Lea’s mouth dropped. “You want me to talk to a dead woman?”
“She’ll listen to another woman. She no longer trusts men after Don Castillo took a mistress.”
Paul leaned over and pushed her door open. Flustered, Lea shook her head as she got in the car. “I don’t know what to tell you, Francisco.”
Attaching her seat belt, she glanced at Paul. He didn’t look happy. She poked her head out the window and whispered, “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll talk more.”
Paul drove onto the main road as the gates of the Adobe swung closed. “I hope I didn’t hear what I think I heard.”
“What’s that?” Lea asked innocently.
“I’d swear Francisco asked you to talk to a dead woman.”
She weighed her words. “Francisco has a voice in deciding who gets the job to promote the summer concerts. When you were getting our tickets, I suggested that the city offer a package deal for the Adobe this summer. A tour and a viewing of the famous necklace combined with a dinner concert. He was excited about the idea until he told me what happened to the jewel.”
“Finding the necklace won’t guarantee you’ll get the contract to do the marketing.”
“It can’t hurt.”
“But why did he ask you to talk to Consuela?” His tone was cutting. “Does he think you’re simpatico with ghosts?”
She matched his clipped tone and stared straight ahead. “Don’t be sarcastic. For you, everything is black and white. If you can’t see, touch, or taste something, it doesn’t exist. You need a logical reason to act.”
“So you admit you believe in ghosts?”
She took a moment to form her response. “I believe energy exists in forms other than human.”
“And people can talk to these nonhuman forms of energy?”
“Talk? Maybe not. Communicate? Yes.” Lea took a breath to calm herself. “The fact remains that Francisco has asked for help. I can’t say no.”
Paul’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He turned his head to look at his wife. “You could, you just aren’t going to.”
* * *
After several moments of strained silence, Lea told Paul about the message from her sister during the concert. “I tried to call her when the music stopped. There was no answer. She hasn’t called back.”
“Whatever she’s doing, it must be important to keep her from a chance to gab.”
From his reply, Lea knew Paul was still sulking. What they saw when they turned the corner wouldn’t help; Maddy’s car parked in front of their house.
“At this time of night,” Paul observed, “it can’t be good.”
He drove into the garage and Lea hurried into the house. Maddy was lying on the couch with the dogs at her feet and an empty shot glass on the table beside her.
Lea pet the dogs, put her bag away, and took off her sweater. “Did I forget to lock the door?” she asked her sister.
“I used my key,” Maddy said. She sat up and slipped her feet into her sandals. “I checked on Jon. He’s home from his friend’s house.”
Lea looked toward her son’s room. “Is he asleep?”
“He’s watching a creepy show on TV. I can’t imagine how he’ll sleep after seeing that.”
The dogs ran to greet Paul when he entered the room. His eyes moved from the jigger to Maddy. “Little late, even for you.”
Maddy walked to the kitchen and rinsed the glass. “When you hear why I needed that, you'll want to join me.”
Paul looked at Lea. “Like I said, this can’t be good.”
“Eric’s been arrested.” Maddy’s voice was shaky.
Paul scoffed. “Drunk driving again? What’s new? That guy always drank too much.”
“Not for drinking. For murder.”
Lea’s hand flew to her throat. “What!” she gasped.
“You’re right about a drink,” Paul said. He pulled a bottle from the cupboard and two shot glasses from the shelf.
While Lea and Paul sipped on their drinks, Maddy paced the room relating the events leading to Eric’s arrest. When she finished, she stood in front of her sister with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how, but we’ve got to help him.”
“We?” Paul responded sharply. His head jerked from Maddy to his wife.
Lea’s response was immediate and firm. “No way! We’re leaving this one to the police. You’ve got a personal bias. You couldn’t possibly handle it with a clear head.”
“Don’t you see? That’s the problem with Tom handling the case. You should have seen his face when he found out who Eric is. I know that look. Eric was no better when he realized that Tom and I are in a relationship. Those two could have killed each other.”
“Speaking of killing—”Paul interjected.
Maddy turned on Paul so quickly that she stepped on one of the dogs. “Eric didn’t kill that woman!”
Startled from a deep sleep, Spirit whimpered. Maddy fell to one knee and stroked his paw. “Sorry, boy. Are you hurt?”
“I’m more worried about my wife getting hurt trying to help your ex,” Paul told her. He continued before Lea could comment. “I can’t believe you’re considering helping Eric after the way he treated you. What makes you think he’s telling the truth about what happened between him and that woman?”
“Lying about seeing another woman isn’t lying about killing a person. Don’t you think I’d know the difference?”
“Lying is lying.” Paul’s voice was at fever pitch. “Liars are liars.”
“Lower your voice,” Lea warned.
Paul stood face-to-face with his sister-in-law. “You’ve never been willing to admit you made a mistake marrying him.”
“And you’ve never accepted that Eric is not like his father,” Maddy yelled back.
Gracie barked, upset by the angry voices.
Lea jumped up and inserted herself between them. “That’s enough you two.” Her voice rang with enough authority to bring their bickering to an end. She walked Maddy to a chair before grabbing Paul’s hand and pulling him onto the sofa beside her. “Eric’s been accused of murder by your best friend. We’re all on a
n emotional roller coaster.”
“How could I not be!” Paul exhaled, his anger abating. “My wife is chasing ghosts and my sister-in-law is up to her neck in murder.”
Maddy turned to Lea, a surprised look on her face. “You’re chasing what?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Lea promised. “Go home, Mad. Everything will look different in the morning. We’ll figure out what to do then.” She pushed her sister toward the door and whispered, “I’ll call you later.”
* * *
After Maddy left, Paul took the dogs to the backyard. Lea locked the front door and rinsed the glasses. After wrapping herself in a sweater, she joined Paul on the patio. The earlier wind had scattered the clouds. The twinkling lights they had seen in the Adobe’s courtyard dwarfed in comparison to the spectacular display of stars above their heads.
Paul’s silence was palpable. Examining the red patch on the retriever’s back, Lea tested the waters. “Spirit’s hot spot appears to be better.”
“Hmmm,” Paul replied.
She hugged herself. “It feels warmer since the breeze died down, but if the wind whips up tomorrow at the beach, it will make for sandy picnic food.”
“Hmmm.”
Lea folded her arms and faced her husband. “Okay, Paul, let’s get it out in the open. Remember our rule, we never go to sleep angry.”
He didn’t hesitate to air his feelings. “You can’t encourage your sister to help Eric. It’s clearly a matter for the police. You two have no business being involved. You’ll only get in Tom’s way.”
“We were hardly in Tom’s way on his last several cases,” Lea reminded him. She kept her voice low to prevent the exchange from escalating into a heated argument. “It was our amateur snooping, as you like to call it, which led to solving those murders.”
Paul shook his head, unwilling to listen. “It makes no sense that Maddy wants to help the guy,” he muttered. “Why doesn’t she let him clean up his own mess?”
“Because he reached out in a time of crisis. He asked for her help.”
“Only because she’s the closest available person. Do you think he would have called her if this had happened closer to home?”
“Yes, I do. It’s the magnitude of the event, not the location, that caused him to turn to Maddy. People who live together have a connection deeper than superficial friendships. By seeing each other’s best and worst, they create a bond that’s rekindled in times of emergency.”
“I still think putting Eric and Maddy together in the same town, let alone the same room, is asking for trouble. With Tom in the mix, her involvement is more than ill-advised, it's combustible. She should walk away, the way Eric walked away with that other woman.”
Lea shook her head. “This has nothing to do with pay-backs. Maddy won’t be able to leave this alone.”
“Then maybe she’s kidding herself that she's over him.” He called the dogs. “Maybe she’s still in love with the jerk.”
“She’s over him in the way you’re talking about, but there will always be a certain connection. It’s different for women than for men. It’s in our genes; when someone we've loved is in trouble, we respond.”
“This is different, all right,” Paul griped.
Feeling a wet nose nudging his hand, he recognized Gracie’s intent to defuse an argument by begging attention. He leaned over to stroke the dog’s head and proceeded in an even tone. “You know I’m only concerned for your well being—and Maddy’s—but I’m talking about more than physical safety. Maddy’s gone through a lot the last several years. She's finding balance in her work and her relationship with Tom. I’d hate to see Eric disrupt that.”
“I know,” Lea agreed. “I appreciate your concern, but Maddy’s changed. She’s not living in Eric’s shadow any longer. Believe me; she can stand her ground with him now.”
Paul rubbed his neck and his shoulders relaxed. “And what about you?”
“Are you asking if I can stand my ground with Eric?”
“No, I’m talking about the ghost. Will you be able to stand your ground with an apparition?”
Lea laughed, relieved to see Paul smile. She sat cross-legged on the ground and wrapped her arms around the Border collie. “I don’t know. What do you think, girl, want to go ghost-busting with me?”
Gracie wagged her tail and licked Lea’s face.
Paul kneeled and embraced them both. “This dog is always ready for an adventure.”
* * *
“I’ll turn out the lights. You check on Jon,” Lea told her husband. As soon as he went up the stairs, she called Maddy. “How are you doing? Feel better?”
“I was almost asleep. What took you so long?”
“That wasn’t an easy sell. You know how Paul feels about Eric.”
“I don’t blame him. I don’t like the guy much either.”
Lea giggled. “I convinced Paul that personal feelings won't affect your judgment. I told him the responsibility you feel to help Eric is normal for people who were married once. So…”
“So what?”
“Is that all it is?”
There was a momentary silence on the line before Maddy responded. “What are you asking me?”
“Are you sure of your motives? Do you really believe in his innocence or—?”
“Or what?” Maddy’s voice sounded tired and angry.
“Maybe you want to show him up, prove he never gave you enough credit for smarts. Getting him out of jail gives you the upper hand for once. How does it feel, his needing you more than you need him?”
“That’s cold.” Maddy’s voice was bitter. “You think I’m still carrying a grudge, or worse, a torch for Eric?”
“You tell me.”
“I shouldn’t have to. You know me better than that.”
The pain in her sister’s voice moved Lea. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Mad. You’ve put all that behind you.” She wanted to make her sister feel better. “I understand why you think you should help. I agree with you that Eric’s not capable of murder. The police should drop the charges. We’ll find a way to make that happen.”
Maddy’s voice brightened. “I’m taking time off work to go to the police station. What’s our first move?”
“I was planning to go to the Adobe in the morning but since you’ve gotten us into something of a more urgent nature, I’ll put that off until Sunday.”
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with ghosts and goblins, would it?” Maddy asked.
“I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Call me as soon as you’re finished at police headquarters and I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Remember what we learned from Dad’s homicide cases?” Lea’s gray cells churned. “We need to know the why to determine the who. By finding out about the woman Eric was with, we'll figure out why she was murdered.”
“But the police will track down her identification from her fingerprints,” Maddy argued. “They’ll interview people who knew her as part of their investigation. What more can we do?”
“You’re right, but they’re looking for facts. They’ll interview people using a list of scripted questions. We’re looking for less obvious answers, and we get to color outside the lines.”
“I get it. We know questions to ask that men have no clue about.”
“Exactly.” Lea paused, listening for footsteps on the stairs. “We’ll start with the bartender. Do you remember his name?”
“Not the one who would have seen the woman Eric was with. I left before the shift change. I remember because I heard the cocktail waitress tell Eric she needed to close out her tab with him. When I walked out, there was a different guy tending bar.”
“But did you talk to the first bartender, the one who was there when you arrived?”
“Yeah. The place was crowded. I described Eric and asked the barkeep if he’d seen him. He pointed to the patio. ‘Two guys at the center table, one of them keeps hustling the cocktail waitress,�
� he said. ‘Sounds like my ex all right,’ I told him.”
“Good,” Lea said. “He’ll remember you. It’s the early shift bartender I want to talk to. The other one will give us the same story he gave the police last night. Besides, we can’t talk to him until after six.”
“Hey, I know the manager,” Maddy said. “We can hit him up for information. He won't want the police around, but he might be willing to talk to us.”
"Anything he could tell us about the victim would help," Lea agreed. “Assuming Eric didn’t kill her—”
“Assuming?”
“Let me rephrase. Knowing that Eric didn’t do it means the killer’s still out there. Finding out why he killed is the first step to finding out who he is.”
Chapter Eight
Maddy finished reading a pamphlet on ‘Safeguarding Your House’ a third time. She rifled through a stack of outdated magazines and watched the minute hand of the wall clock crawl to the next digit. A police station was not a good place to be kept waiting.
Tom usually appeared instantly when she stopped by, happy to see her. Today was different. Today she was here in an official capacity.
She was thinking about leaving when he finally appeared. She began to complain before noting the look on his face. Knowing better than to poke an angry bear, she snapped her mouth shut.
“It’s about time,” he grumbled.
She denied herself the satisfaction of pointing out that she had arrived on time.
“Officer Fisher has transcribed her notes from the interview at the crime scene. Read the statement carefully before you sign it. Let us know if you’ve thought of anything since last night—”
“I’ve thought of a lot since last night—”
“—that we should add to your statement.”
She tried to keep apace as he led the way to the inner sanctum. Instead of Tom’s office, they stopped at an interrogation room. He tapped on the door twice. “Pat’s waiting for you. She’ll let me know when you’re finished.” He turned and walked away.
The door opened and Pat pointed to a chair in the stark, brightly lit room. “Sit down, Maddy. Let’s get started.”