by Maria Geraci
On the way to police headquarters, I practice what I’m going to say to convince Travis to let me see Archie Clements. This isn’t going to be easy to pull off. In fact, it’s going to be downright impossible, but I have to try. My thoughts wander to Betty Jean and the earring. Why did she lie about it belonging to her? I shrug it off. Knowing Betty Jean, it could be any number of goofy reasons.
Paco and I walk into the police station armed with muffins. They might be day-old muffins, but it’s still a potent bribe. “Hey, Cindy!” I place the bag on her desk. “Muffins for Whispering Bay’s finest and the world’s best receptionist.”
Paco looks at me as if to say, Isn’t that laying it on a bit thick?
He’s right, of course, but a little bit of flattery can’t hurt the cause.
“Hey, Lucy. Wow. Muffins two days in a row.” She eyes the bag. “Did you include some of those low-fat cranberry ones you brought me yesterday?”
“Hel-lo. Of course, I did.”
Paco barks to get her attention.
“And hello to you, Paco.” She opens a desk drawer to produce a treat. This time Paco doesn’t wait to be asked to perform. He immediately sits, then goes down. But he doesn’t stop there. He also does a series of rolls, then sits back up and raises his paw in the air.
What a sellout.
“Wow. You’ve really been working with him. Is it Woofio? Have you been learning his techniques?”
“Nope. He learned those on his own.”
She plays with him for a few minutes. “So, what brings you here? If you’ve come to see Travis, he’s not in. Zeke isn’t here either.” Her voice hitches with pride. “Rusty is in charge right now.”
Yes!
With both Travis and Zeke gone, this should be easier. Not a slam-dunk. But my odds of success have just improved dramatically. I make a sad face. “Shoot. I was hoping to surprise Travis. When will he be back?”
“I’m not sure. He left about an hour ago, but he didn’t say where he was going.”
Unfortunately, that gives me no information. He could be back in five minutes or five hours. I’ll have to work fast. “I hear Archie Clements is in custody.”
“What a scumbag, huh?” She waves me closer like she wants to tell me more. I’m happy to oblige her. “Do you know he swindled, like, ten people out of money? It’s people we know, too. Like Victor Marino and Shirley Dombrowski.”
Shirley Dombrowski? I had no idea she was writing a novel, let alone one of Jefferson Pike’s victims. Poor Shirley. The thought of her being swindled of what little money she has makes me angry.
“Luckily, Clements is cooperating,” says Cindy, “so it looks like everyone will get their money back.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I hear that Clements is going to take the fall for everything and the girl is going to get off scot-free. Do you think he’ll get much time?” I ask.
“Probably. But it’s not just the charges here he’s facing. The FBI is coming to question him for a bunch of other scams.”
“The girl, Anita Tremble, she came in The Bistro this morning. She seemed so sweet. It’s hard to believe someone like her could get involved with two con men like Archie Clements and Jefferson Pike.”
“I thought the same thing,” says Cindy. “I brought her some coffee when she was in the interrogation room, and she was just a boo-hooing up a storm. You can’t fake tears like hers. Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of crying at this station, and I can spot a fake a mile away. I hear the DA is going easy on her. I certainly hope she’s learned her lesson.”
Okay, I think I’ve set things up nicely. I just hope Cindy buys into my routine.
“You know, Cindy, I’m embarrassed to tell you this, but I was one of the people that Jefferson Pike and Archie Clements targeted for their scheme.”
“What? You’re kidding! But I thought they were targeting writers. Wait. Lucy, have you written a book? Let me guess. You wrote a cookbook. On muffins.”
“I wish.” If I could blush on command, I would, but I’m not so shameless as that, so I try my best to seem flustered. “I wrote a romance. A really steamy one.”
“Oh. Like Fifty Shades of Grey steamy?”
“I wish it was that tame. Mine is a lot steamier.”
Cindy giggles. “Lucy McGuffin! What would your—oh. That’s awkward.”
“Tell me about it. I had planned to publish it under a pen name. I gave it to Archie to read. He told me his name was Hoyt Daniels and he was an aspiring author like myself. I know it was foolish of me, but I was just so taken in by them.”
She nods. “Like I said, you weren’t the only one. How much money did you give them?”
“We never got that far. But, he has my manuscript, Cindy. With my real name on it! What if someone gets ahold of it? What if someone shows it to my brother? I would die of embarrassment.”
“Oh, hon. What are you going to do?”
“After I talked to Anita this morning, it gave me hope. If Archie is half the gentleman she says he is, maybe he’ll tell me what they did with my manuscript.”
“It’s worth a try,” says Cindy.
“You think so? The thing is, how do I talk to him? If the feds are coming to question him, chances are they’ll take him out of state. I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to my book.”
“You poor thing. That’s awful.” She hesitates. “I bet Rusty would let you talk to Archie.”
“Really?”
“Why not? If the two of us ask him nicely. Plus, you could always throw in some free muffins for him.”
“Just for the rest of his life!” I say.
Cindy smiles coyly. “Let me see what I can do.”
I leave Paco with Cindy and follow Rusty down the hallway. He stealthily looks to the right, then to the left, motioning me to follow him. I feel like a ninja on a secret mission. “I hope this isn’t going to get you in trouble,” I say.
“Nah. I just want to make sure no one’s looking.”
“I promise, Rusty. Free lemon poppy seed muffins forever.”
“Aw, that’s okay, Lucy. Cindy told me what happened to you.” He clears his throat like he’s suddenly uncomfortable, and a wave of tenderness washes over me. Whatever happens, I can’t let Rusty or Cindy get in trouble over this.
He ushers me into the interrogation room, where Archie Clements sits at a table, eating one of my carrot cake muffins. He looks up in surprise. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Well, hello, Hoyt,” I say, using his alias.
He shrugs. “Sorry about that little ruse, my dear.”
“You have five minutes,” warns Rusty. “I’ll be watching you from the window. He’s not dangerous, but if he makes a move, this visit is over.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Rusty points two V-sign fingers between himself and Archie in the universal “I’m watching you” look, then closes the door.
“This is unexpected,” says Archie. “But I understand this excellent muffin is compliments of your café. Thank you. The food around here leaves a bit to be desired.”
“You’re welcome.” Because I’m curious, I ask. “Did you select that muffin yourself, or did Cindy just hand it to you?”
“I selected it myself. Very nice variety, by the way.”
You know the old saying you can always judge a book by its cover? I have another saying. You can always judge a person by their favorite muffin. Carrot cake muffins are loyal and trustworthy, two qualities I’m having trouble ascribing to Archie Clements right now. Still, it bodes well for our conversation.
He brushes the muffin crumbs from his hands. “What can I do for you, Lucy?”
“Anita Tremble came into my café this morning.”
“How is she?”
“Pretty good, considering. She says her lawyer tells her she’ll probably get off with just probation. Thanks to you. She says you told the police she was only minimally involved in the scam.”
&nbs
p; “It’s the truth.”
“If you say so.”
A muscle over his right eye twitches.
I look up at the clock above the door. I have four minutes left. “Anita says that you’re a stand-up guy. I’m hoping that’s true.”
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m the one who found Jefferson Pike’s body. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
He considers this. “It’s unusual, but as long as the answers don’t incriminate me, I don’t see why not.”
“Anita told me that Jefferson Pike told you he had a run-in with J.W. Quicksilver.”
“That’s true.”
“But before he let Quicksilver go to the police, he hit him over the head, tied him up and locked him in a closet.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see this for yourself? Did you see J.W. Quicksilver?”
“I wish I had. Then I could have identified him for the police. Unfortunately, I was too frazzled to think clearly at that point. All I could think of was getting Anita … was getting away before we were found out.”
He can’t identify Will! I blow out a slow, deep breath.
“You wanted to leave town right away?”
“Of course, I did. But then, I was always the more prudent one of us. But Jefferson? He liked to live on the edge. He said we had plenty of time to still do the book club sting, collect all the money, and get out of town before Quicksilver was discovered in the closet.”
“That must have made you mad.”
His eyes flash with anger. “If it wasn’t for Jefferson’s big ego, he’d still be alive, and I wouldn’t be sitting in jail.”
It’s exactly what Anita said. So far everything Archie has told me has been the truth, but I have to word this next question simply and clearly so that I get a correct readout.
“Did you kill Jefferson Pike?”
“Me? I don’t have a violent bone in my body. Besides, what would be my motive?”
“You said yourself you were the prudent one. That made him, what? The reckless one? You could have killed him over any number of things.”
“Except I just told you I wanted to leave town quietly to avoid trouble. Killing one’s partner has a way of making the police notice you.”
“So you didn’t kill Jefferson?”
“I already said I didn’t.”
Archie is telling the truth.
“But if you didn’t kill him, who did?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It had to be J.W. Quicksilver. He had motive. Jefferson said he was indignant when he confronted him about our scam. And he had opportunity. Sometime before the book club was scheduled to start, he escaped from his bindings. He must have confronted Jefferson at Betty Jean’s house, found him alone and, in a fury, killed him.”
“That’s a bit out there, isn’t it?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Rusty taps on the window and points to the clock. My time is almost up.
“Just one more question. I got to Betty Jean’s house around five thirty. That’s when I found Jefferson dead. Book club wasn’t supposed to start until seven. What was he doing there so early?”
Archie sits up straight. “Five thirty? That’s impossible. Anita and I got back to the beach house around four that afternoon. Once we knew we’d been compromised, we packed up and left the beach house immediately. That was around four fifteen. Jefferson and I argued because I wanted him to come with us, but he was supposed to meet with another potential mark at The Harbor House for drinks at five. He told us to go ahead; he’d meet the mark, then go on to Betty Jean’s house and catch up to us the next day.” He frowns. “I didn’t realize the time of death was … You have to be wrong about that. He wouldn’t have missed meeting up with a mark. The game was everything to Jefferson.”
“Maybe the mark didn’t show up? Or canceled? And Jefferson decided to go to Betty Jean’s early?”
“Perhaps.”
I can tell he’s disturbed by what I just told him, but I’m not sure why or what it means.
“Do you know who this potential mark was?”
“Jefferson didn’t give me a name. At that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted Anita and I to get as far away as possible. We would have made it too, if it wasn’t for a faulty taillight.”
Rusty taps again on the window, this time more impatiently. I nod, indicating that I’m done.
Archie puts a finger up in the air. “Before you go, may I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“The night of the book signing at The Harbor House. You said you’d written a romance novel. Was that true?”
I could lie to him, but what would be the point? “No.”
He chuckles to himself. “It appears I’m not the only one who gave a good performance that night.”
“Guess not.”
As productive as this conversation has been, I’m now back to square one, because everything Archie has just told me is the truth.
He isn’t the killer.
14
I walk out into the hallway and run smack into Travis and FBI Agent Patricia Billings.
Uh-oh.
“Well, if it isn’t Lucy McGuffin,” says Agent Billings. “Funny running into you at police headquarters.” It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen her, so it’s too soon to hope that she’s changed. She’s still starchy. Still steely-eyed. Still too astute. You’d think she’d cut me some slack considering that the last time I saw her I saved her bacon from a mob hit.
“You know me. I brought muffins to the station. Our police work so hard. We have to keep them motivated.” I pump my fist in the air for emphasis.
Travis doesn’t buy it. “Did you just come out of the interrogation room?”
“What?” I ask, playing innocent. “Is it around here somewhere?”
“Excuse us a moment,” he says to Billings. He takes me by the elbow and leads me into Zeke Grant’s office, then closes the door shut.
“Should we be in Zeke’s office without him?” I ask.
“Don’t think for a minute that either Billings or I buy that lost lamb routine of yours. What are you really doing here?”
“Talk about ingrates. Next time I’ll bring my muffins to the fire department.”
“Lucy.”
That one simple word does me in. I can’t lie to Travis. I just can’t.
“Okay, you got me. I talked to Archie Clements. But don’t get mad at Rusty. I totally tricked him into helping me.”
Travis looks like he’s mentally counting to ten. “You tricked him?” he says in an eerily calm voice. “Why am I not surprised by this? I’d ask what you think you’re doing, but I already know. How many times do I have to tell you to leave the police work to the actual police?”
There’s a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, Agent Billings walks inside. “I want to know what you two are talking about. Unless … ” She looks at Travis the way I look at a new muffin recipe I’m thinking of trying out. “Am I interrupting something personal?”
My female instincts kick into high gear. “Yes,” I say.
“No,” Travis says, at the same time.
“Which one is it?” she asks.
None of your business. “Are you going to take Archie Clements back to Virginia with you?” I ask.
“That’s the plan. Why are you interested in Clements?”
“Lucy just spoke to him,” says Travis.
Billings snaps to attention. “Really?” She takes the chair behind Zeke’s desk and motions for me to sit down as well. “I want to hear all about it.”
I cautiously take a seat across from her. “Why should I tell you anything?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Because I’m a special agent with the FBI and it’s your civic duty to aid me in any way I see fit. I’ll be honest, in my ten years at the Bureau, I’ve never met anyone more intuitive than you. Do you know how long my tea
m and I were after El Tigre?” she says, referring to the code name for an assassin sent to kill a mob witness here in Whispering Bay. “In just a few days you were able to sniff out that sociopath. I never asked you how you did it. But I’m asking you now. How did you do it?”
Like I’m really going to tell her that I’m a human lie detector and that my dog is a ghost whisperer. “Just dumb luck, I guess. Plus, Paco helped out.” It’s the truth. Sort of.
“You mean your dog? I saw him out front with the receptionist. He was rolling around on the ground. I hardly think that chihuahua is a canine Sherlock Holmes.”
You’d be surprised.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
She pulls a file out of her tote and hands it to me. A photo of a younger Archie wearing glasses and dressed in a business suit is stapled to the top of a rap sheet. “Archie Clements and Jefferson Pike ran a real estate swindle on the Eastern seaboard. They were good. Good enough to elude us for years. Archie has never been violent, and now his partner is dead. So what happened here in Whispering Bay to change all that up?”
“You think Archie killed Jefferson?”
“That’s what I want you to ask him. I have a feeling that you might be able to tell us if he’s lying about that.” She stares at me like she can see right through me. It’s probably some kind of FBI mind trick, but it works. I’m not the only one in the room who’s intuitive. Agent Billings’s feelings are right on.
I look at Archie’s picture again. Just like his professor disguise, he pulls off the mild-mannered businessman well. “What would be his motive for killing Pike?”
“What’s everyone’s motive? Money. We figure that over the years, the two of them have hustled at least ten million off their victims.”
Ten million dollars. Holy wow.
“But that makes no sense. If Jefferson Pike and Archie Clements had ten million dollars stashed away, why come here and pull a small-time publishing scam? What they got here was peanuts compared to ten million.”
“Exactly. This sting was unusual for them. For one thing, the potential money to be made was low, and the publishing angle is something they’ve never done before. They were on their way to Key West and then eventually the Cayman Islands when they stopped here in Whispering Bay. They could have argued about the operation or the money. Or any other number of things.”