by Vickie Fee
“Of course I’d love to see you at Mass, but I won’t press you on that. I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk about anything, or about nothing in particular. I’m a good listener.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you for listening to my grandmother’s ramblings, and for checking on me. And for offering to listen to my woes. I’ve actually been very lucky. Some of Uncle Leon’s friends have taken me under their wing, especially George and Trudy Mayfield.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Good people. George can be a little prickly, but everyone knows his bark is worse than his bite. And Trudy is a peach—and a good cook, which you’ve no doubt already discovered.”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh. “I’m a frequent guest at their supper table. You said Kendra had mentioned me. I didn’t know she attended St. Cecilia’s.”
“She comes to Mass on occasion, but she always helps us with set designs for our Christmas and Easter productions for the children’s choir. Sounds like the two of you have become fast friends. I’m glad. You seem to be keeping very good company, Halley. I’ll be sure to tell your grandmother the next time she calls.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call her off? I don’t want her to be a pest.”
“I’ll be mad at you if you tell your grandmother not to call me anymore. I enjoy our little chats.”
“You mean she’s called more than once?”
He just smiled.
“I’ll drop by for coffee again. And you know where to find me.”
I walked him to the door.
“Father Ben, there is one thing you could do for me. Please light a candle and ask that the police are able to track down whoever killed Vince Dalton very soon. And tell Grammy hello when you talk to her.”
“Will do.”
CHAPTER 16
I ran upstairs to eat lunch and give some thought to the best way to approach the conversation with Paula “police informant” Turpin. When I walked into the apartment, Eartha was meowing loudly. She had dragged her empty bowl into the middle of the kitchen and was clearly lodging a complaint.
“I’m coming. You know I’d have dinner waiting for you if I had any idea when you were going to show up.”
She turned her head away as if to show complete disinterest in what I had to say. She did, however, act interested when I filled her bowl. She ate while I topped off her water bowl.
I sat down in the recliner with pen and paper and the intention of making notes on what to say to Paula. A few minutes later the paper was still blank as I bit down on the pen cap.
Eartha finished her meal and walked slowly toward me. She licked her paw then stretched out near, but not touching, my feet.
“You’re welcome,” I said, reaching down and gently petting her.
After I’d made my way to the community center, I stood in the hall pretending to look at notices on the bulletin board as people, mostly women, streamed out of Trudy’s class. Through the crack in the door I could see Trudy talking to Paula, who was rolling up her orange yoga mat. When the room had emptied, except for the two of them, I stepped in and closed the door behind me. Paula’s healthy glow turned into nervously flushed cheeks.
“I’d better be going,” she said.
“Don’t rush off. I had an interesting conversation with Detective Stedman this morning. He somehow had the idea that Kendra and I had taken a certain item from Vince’s cottage. Any idea what gave him that notion?”
Paula looked to her yoga instructor.
“I’d like to hear the answer to that one, myself,” Trudy said.
“I didn’t tell him I thought you two took anything. I just told him I didn’t know who else could’ve had an opportunity, that’s all.”
“You had opportunity, Paula. In fact, if you did change the locks shortly after we left, and the detective said there was no sign of forced entry, that means you are the only one who had opportunity. What I don’t understand is why did you wait until then? You could have easily gone through Vince’s cottage and taken whatever you wanted before the cops came or just after they left. If you can help me to understand then I won’t suggest you as the best suspect to Detective Stedman when I see him again.”
After a flustered moment, Paula said, “Oh, okay. If it turns out to have any bearing on the investigation, I’ll hand the dang boot over to the cops.”
My eyes met Trudy’s briefly. The boot.
“I watched you two through the window with a little help from my binoculars. I know Kendra has worked in some museums, dealing with antiques and valuables. When she took so much interest in that old boot, I thought it might be worth something, like maybe I could sell it online.”
“Did you? Sell it, that is?”
“No. After I took it home I realized I had no idea what it was worth, or even how to describe it, so I showed it to Edgar Wentworth with the historical society. He knows a good bit about collectibles—and, well, he’s always had a little crush on me,” she said, blushing as she cast her eyes down.
I bit my lip and managed not to giggle. Trudy didn’t look amused.
“What did Edgar say?” I asked.
“He said he didn’t know. But he took a few pictures with his phone and said he’d check on it for me.”
Paula picked up her mat and tucked it under her arm.
“I hope you won’t tell the police, but do whatever you think is right,” she said. “I really do have to go now. I have guests arriving soon.”
After Paula had gone, I stared at the ceiling trying to sort things out in my head.
“What are you thinking?” Trudy asked.
“I’m thinking that Kendra had a conversation with Edgar yesterday, subtly probing the subject of whether anyone had recently inquired about the Jesse James gang’s exploits in and around Utopia Springs or about hidden treasure. He told her Vince had brought up the subject, but he neglected to mention the boot. What do you think?”
“I’m wondering how often she used those binoculars of hers to peer into Vince’s window before she used them to spy on you and Kendra.”
I may have gasped just a little.
“And if she could see into his window, then maybe he could see into hers, too,” I posited.
“That’s a good point. We know Vince was a blackmailer. Maybe he was blackmailing his landlady for free rent?”
“That could explain why she felt entitled to help herself to his valuables,” I said.
Trudy gathered up extra yoga mats, flyers, a towel and a water bottle, and I helped her carry things out to her car. Walking behind my friend who’s about seventy years of age, I couldn’t help but notice her fit figure and perfect posture.
“Trudy, you look amazing. Could I trade you coffee lessons or free movies for some yoga classes?”
“You don’t have to trade me anything, but feel free to drop in on my classes anytime. Although, if you think you could show me how to make better coffee, George would be grateful.”
“You’re on. I’d better get back. Marco is coming by later to replenish my wine stock at the theater.”
“Ah, Marco is bene handsome and charming, no?” she said in a bad Italian accent.
“Trudy, I’m trying to build a business. I’m not looking for a man, capiche?
“Honey, someone as young and pretty as you doesn’t have to look for a man. He’ll find you.”
As she got into her car, she gave me a wink.
CHAPTER 17
I was dying to tell Kendra that Paula had taken the notorious boot from Vince’s place and shown it to Edgar, but it would have to wait. She had customers and I needed to get ready for a delivery. I walked briskly back to the theater. I wouldn’t admit it to Trudy or Kendra, but I was jumpy just knowing that Marco was coming by. I should’ve spent the time rearranging the bar area and stocking cups and glasses for tonight’s seven
o’clock show. Instead I ran upstairs, put on makeup, fiddled with my uncooperative hair, and put on a skirt. I almost never wore a skirt. It occurred to me I was primping for a forty-year-old man.
Pull yourself together, Halley.
I ran through a litany of justifications in my head. I need to make myself presentable before the show anyway. I’m not just the barista around here; I’m the owner. A higher standard for my appearance is in order.
I completed my mini makeover and made it down to the bar at about 3:20. I hurriedly moved some things around behind the counter. Through the front windows I spotted a truck with lettering on the side that said “Carvello’s Winery.” I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my skirt. I may have convinced myself earlier that I was primping for the customers, but I couldn’t deny the butterflies that were taking flight in my stomach when I saw Marco pushing a handcart loaded with a couple of cases of wine.
I went over and held the door open for him.
“Buongiorno, Halley.” He flashed a boyish smile and I may have blushed just a little.
“Hi, Marco. Come on through.” I led the way to the bar and he set the cases on the counter.
“This should be enough to get you through the weekend shows. But if the customers consume all this, give me a call and we’ll be happy to restock.”
“That would be a nice problem to have. But I’m more worried about no one showing up, you know, after what happened opening night.”
“I’m sorry an unexpected death intruded on your otherwise glorious opening. I read in the paper that the police may suspect foul play. Surely that can’t be true.”
“I’m afraid so. And I’m also afraid I’m a favorite suspect at this point.”
“That’s ridiculous, you didn’t even know the man.”
“The cops think otherwise. Turns out he’s the one who vandalized the theater ten days before we opened. If I’d known he was the one who had trashed the theater after all our hard work, I might have been tempted to kill him—but I didn’t. Kill him, that is.”
“Of course not,” he said.
“Well, Kendra and I are making some discreet inquiries. I hope to find something—anything that will make the police lose interest in me as a suspect.”
Marco stopped unpacking bottles, gently grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him.
“You be very careful, cara. If there is a killer at large, the last thing I want is for you to rattle his cage,” he said, looking into my eyes with tenderness.
I gulped and looked away.
“Don’t worry. I’m not the heroic type. In fact, I’m the chicken type. So nothing dangerous.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I wish I could stay for tonight’s show. I’ve never seen My Fair Lady on the big screen,” Marco said.
“I have once, but it’s been ages. I wish I could slip into the theater for the show, but I have to mind the store,” I said with an exaggerated sigh.
“It’s tough being the boss,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m booked up with obligations most of this weekend, but after I’ve dispensed with those and you’ve gotten through your Sunday matinee, would you come out to the vineyard for some wine and some of Maria’s canapés? Dad would love to see you—and I might even be able to arrange a little surprise. Say around seven Sunday evening?”
I hesitated. Butterflies in my stomach and daydreams were one thing. But this sounded like an actual date.
“Please, Halley. I promise to be a complete gentleman.”
That was both reassuring and slightly disappointing, but I accepted his invitation.
I rushed to get things ready for tonight’s show. I opened the doors at six and was a little worried when the first customer didn’t enter the lobby until about six fifteen. But by six thirty we had a decent crowd. I was hustling to serve coffee and wine, as well as selling tickets from behind the bar. And I was beginning to worry my projectionist wasn’t going to show up. I’d tried to call her a couple of times. But Delores walked briskly through the front door at about five to seven. She was supposed to arrive at six to sell tickets.
“So sorry I’m late,” Delores said, waving as she walked by and went straight up to the projection room. No gold lamé evening gown tonight, but she was wearing a hat as well as a pencil skirt and high heels.
Champagne was again popular during intermission, and I held my breath as Delores started the second half of the film, keeping my fingers crossed that no one would have to leave the theater on a gurney tonight. I heaved a sigh of relief after everyone had gone and I locked the doors behind them just after eleven.
Instead of finishing up with cleaning behind the bar, I rushed upstairs, kicked off my shoes and collapsed into the recliner, ready to put my feet up for a bit. I called Kendra and told her what Paula had told Trudy and me after yoga class today.
“I think we should go have a little chat with Edgar. He’s clearly holding out on me. And he’s cheating on Trudy.”
“Hey, any flirtation between Edgar and Trudy is purely harmless fun,” I said.
“Still, she’d feel foolish if she realized he pulls that act with just about everyone. Plus, I’m sure he wasn’t telling me the whole story when I met him for coffee. I knew he was acting dodgy. That scoundrel. I think we should confront him. Maybe we can go over first thing in the morning.”
“Right. Wait. I have to go over in the morning to pick up scones for the coffee bar anyway. You can go with me. That will give us the perfect opportunity to have a little chat with him.”
After my call to Kendra, I wanted to go to bed. It had been a full day. But I had to get the coffee bar and the bathrooms cleaned before I could open for business in the morning. Cleaning the auditorium would have to wait until after morning coffee service.
First thing Friday morning I dressed and hurried downstairs to vacuum the lobby—the one necessary cleaning chore I had failed to accomplish before calling it a night. I felt my cell phone buzz and switched off the vacuum. It was Edgar, calling to tell me not to come by Tudor House to collect the scones for the coffee bar this morning. He said he’d deliver them personally.
“I’ll be there at a quarter of eight. That way I can have you all to myself for a few minutes before customers distract you.”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.” Since it was a phone call, he couldn’t see me roll my eyes. I called Kendra to let her know Edgar would be coming to the theater to deliver the scones.
“Oh, good. It’s always convenient when your quarry comes to you. We can ambush him without interference.”
I was a bit taken back by Kendra’s glee at getting the drop on Edgar. He had clearly stirred the ire of my normally congenial friend.
True to his word, Edgar arrived just before eight, delivering a variety of scones, along with jams and clotted cream.
“Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful face,” he said with an adoring gaze. I was worried he might burst into a Rodgers and Hammerstein song from Oklahoma.
As I pulled the espresso shot he’d ordered, Kendra walked in from the hallway.
“Good morning, Edgar,” she said in a sing-song voice.
For a moment I thought he was going to choke on his coffee, but he quickly pulled himself together.
“Oh, my, I’m starting my day with two of the loveliest ladies in Utopia Springs. Be still my heart.”
Kendra walked up to the corner of the bar and shot our prey a withering glare.
“Edgar, I’m so disappointed with you.”
“My dear Kendra, it grieves me to hear you say so. What have I done?” he said, trying to look innocent.
“We know you’re checking into the boot from Vince’s cottage. And I know,” she said moving her face closer to his, “that you haven’t been telling me the truth about the true nature of your conversations with Vince Dalton.”
A panicked look
crossed Edgar’s face briefly, but long enough for me to see real fear in his eyes. That gave me an idea.
“Edgar, Vince was blackmailing you, wasn’t he? What was he holding over your head?” I asked.
Kendra gave me a quick nod before pressing Edgar further. “I’m sure the police would like to know all about Vince’s blackmail against you. Of course, if you weren’t involved in anything shady then you really don’t have anything to fear. We’re just trying to help the cops look in the right direction for suspects, since they’ve been mistakenly looking in Halley’s direction. I’m sure you want to help Halley out. Why don’t you just tell us the truth?”
“The truth is Vince had somehow come into possession of the boot, which I’m sure is a complete fake, by the way. And he also had an authentically period-looking map that suggested Jesse James had hidden some loot in a cavern near one of the original springs here in town. I don’t for a minute believe that’s true, but I have an acquaintance who has done a series of cable TV shows about treasure hunters. I wanted to arrange for him to look at Vince’s boot, map, and anything else he had that might entice said acquaintance to shoot a treasure hunting episode in Utopia Springs.”
“I thought you said you don’t believe the map or boot are authentic.” I said.
“Perhaps,” Edgar said with a gleam in his eyes, “but they could lead to treasure in the form of increased tourism, which would benefit all of us—including you two. And I would naturally be willing to give the scouts and production crew a special rate to stay at the Tudor House Inn for the duration.”
“Naturally,” Kendra said. “Go on.”
“Well, Vince got quite angry when he found out what my plans were. He was afraid if word got out, other treasure hunters would swoop in and steal the buried treasure away from him. The man was delusional.”