Second Chance at Life

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  ~Lou~

  After he and Davidson got back to the station, Lou hopped in his car and took off to talk to Dick Potter. Not surprisingly, the old man was surly. And unhelpful.

  Back at his desk, Lou followed up on the print taken from Cara Mia’s store after the burglary. Once again, he hit a dead end. A call to the lab confirmed they hadn’t had time to go through the Wentworths’ garbage.

  Since Lou hadn’t eaten lunch, he drove to Wendy’s and talked to two of the servers who’d been working that Monday night when Kathy Simmons had showed up. They didn’t remember much. He was starving, so he bought a salad, sat down, and ate his lunch slowly. Davidson’s harping about staying mentally sharp was starting to sink in.

  “He’s a smart guy,” said Showalter. “You know he’s right. You haven’t been your best. Of course, some of that is because you’ve gone and broken your heart.”

  Lou tried to ignore his old mentor’s omnipresent voice.

  Shortly after three o’clock, when the shifts changed, he struck gold. A young woman named Kiesha told him she’d overheard Darcy talking with Kathy.

  “They were always getting together during Darcy’s breaks,” said Kiesha. “I remember that night special because Kathy was wearing that funky raincoat of hers. The one that looked like newspapers? She could be so weird. They both were. But then, I’ve never worked with a lesbian before.”

  Lou felt his jaw drop. “Lesbian?”

  This put the roommates' relationship in a whole new light. Lou guided the conversation back to the line of questioning he'd planned to pursue. "The night that Kathy came in here, did either of the girls seem scared or nervous? I know they didn’t talk to each other for long.”

  “They were always happy to see each other. Those two were a couple of lovebirds, for sure. But that night? They were acting different. I can’t say how. But I saw Kathy hand something to Darcy. I remember ‘cause she pulled it out from under her coat. She told Darcy to take special care of it. Said it was precious. Darcy went and put it in her locker.”

  “Locker?”

  “Uh-huh. We got us these employee lockers so we can put away our purses and our street clothes. They’re in the back.”

  “That solves the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of the photo,” said Showalter. “No wonder Darcy kept repeating, ‘It isn’t here,’ because it wasn’t. She had it locked up at Wendy’s the whole time!”

  Thinking back on the time wasted searching the apartment, Lou was furious. If Darcy had been more forthcoming, they could have made more progress!

  Lou reported Keisha’s big reveal to his boss. “I started thinking what she said. Went back and checked on that tattoo that Kathy had. Sure enough it said, ‘Darcy+ Kathy4Ever.’ Must have been more than a roommate thing between them.”

  “Gives us a whole new set of motives,” said Davidson. “I’ve requested help from the folks in Miami in finding her.”

  “That’ll happen when pigs fly,” said Lou.

  Davidson chuckled. “Yes, they’ve got their hands full. My request won’t float to the top of their list. What did you learn from Dick Potter?”

  Lou shook his head. “Not much. Dick used to be a baseball umpire. He remembered that Josiah Wentworth sponsored several teams way back when. I guess the Senator never missed a game if he could help it. Always taking the boys out for ice cream and field trips. Other than that, I got nada.”

  “Doubtful that Dick is our poisoner,” said Davidson, taking the Hobe Sound exit.

  Lou nodded. “He said that if he wanted to kill Josiah Wentworth, he’d have snapped the man’s neck.”

  “That makes sense,” said Davidson. “I don’t know if you know this, but the Wentworths only recently moved to the island full time. George told me that they deleted their Maryland address, which means they must have sold that house. Get this: They dropped their membership to the club on the island.”

  “So money was tight,” said Lou.

  "Right. I'm thinking ice floes."

  "Ice floes?" Lou repeated.

  "Hasn't anyone ever told you that Eskimos put their elderly on ice floes and set them adrift to freeze to death?" Davidson smiled.

  "Really?"

  "Senilicide was practiced by the Eskimos, the Inuit, and the Yuit, but only in extreme conditions when an infirm person was such a drain on the tribe's resources that they had no choice."

  "You lost me. What does this have to do with the Wentworths?"

  "What if the motive for Josiah Wentworth’s murder was senilicide? What if he was poisoned to death because he was a burden on the family resources? By all accounts, he was growing physically and mentally feeble. What if his wife decided she'd had enough? What if she missed the social whirl in DC? And she resented curtailing their activities here?"

  Lou nodded. "Why kill him now?"

  "Because he'd started to blab about his mistakes. Maybe Jenny Beth didn't want his reputation tarnished. The Senator had outlived his usefulness to her."

  "I keep thinking back to that photo," said Lou. “Did you see Mrs. Wentworth’s reaction to it? Her mood shifted.”

  "Right," agreed Davidson, “and she immediately wondered if it had come from Cara Mia's store."

  "I figured that was because they’d seen the photos at the VIP event," said Lou.

  "Except there weren’t any photos of people," said Davidson. “Remember? The burglar only took pictures with people in them. So the Wentworths couldn’t have seen a photo like that at The Treasure Chest.”

  "Right,” said Lou. “Do you believe Mrs. Wentworth doesn’t know anything about that photo? Where it was taken? Who the boys were?”

  "Not for a minute,” said Davidson.

  The Police Captain’s phone rang.

  “Cara!” said Davidson, with affection in his voice.

  "Some detective you are,” said Showalter. "Haven't you noticed how he looks at Cara Mia?"

  Lou had to admit that Showalter was right.

  When Davidson got off the phone, he was grinning from ear to ear. “That was Cara Mia Delgatto. She showed the picture to Dick, on the off-chance he might recognize someone since he’s a contemporary of Josiah Wentworth. She figured that one of those boys might even belong to a local family.”

  “Any luck?” Lou felt a zing of excitement.

  “Yes. One of the two boys in the picture was a baseball player named PeeWee Heckler. Died of his own hand after getting sent to Dozier. Buried up in Port St. Lucie. The other kid Dick didn't know. I wonder if Sid can help us find something linking Josiah Wentworth, Kathy Simmons, and PeeWee.”

  Lou mulled that over. “There’s one other person who might be able to tell us something, Kathy Simmons’ mother.”

  “That’s right,” said Davidson. “I want us both to go to the funeral on Monday. I bet Mrs. Simmons can tell us more about that picture.”

  CHAPTER 80

  ~Cara~

  Monday dawned bright and beautiful. Too lovely, actually, for a funeral. I took the glorious weather as a reminder to savor my life here in Paradise. I began by brewing a nice pot of coffee and warming up a scone for my breakfast.

  The calm was broken when Skye stomped downstairs. To my surprise, she actually growled at the cell phone she was holding in her hand.

  “I cannot believe the nerve of that man!”

  “Care to take it outside?” I asked. Jack was whimpering at the door. Luna flicked her tail with amusement. That cat was quite the diva. She watched Jack with an ill-disguised sense of superiority.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Skye followed us out into the bright sunshine. There was a gentle breeze off the water. I could smell the fragrant clusters of yellow blossoms in the Sweet Acacia trees. Sunlight turned Skye’s golden hair into an angelic halo, which seemed sort of funny considering sort of temper tantrum she was having.

  “Spill it, girlfriend,” I said, giving her a quick hug.

  "It’s Lou. I thought I'd get over him, but I can't. It's like a rock in my shoe. I've got t
his bruise in one place, so I adjust my gait. Then it moves to another spot and hurts all over again."

  "That bad?"

  "He emailed me five minutes ago asking what tonight's specials will be at Pumpernickel's. Just like always. He's pretending that nothing happened between us. But it did! I'm not letting him get away with it,” she said. With that, she launched into a blow-by-blow of Lou's sneaky questioning. Boy, was she ever wound up.

  Skye went on and on, giving vent to her anger. She barely stopped for air as Jack wandered down the alley, happily sniffing and peeing. She talked and talked and talked until finally she talked herself out. When she got to the part about dumping the glass of water in Lou's lap, I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not. The manager almost fired me on the spot. Fortunately with so many servers out sick, he couldn’t afford to.”

  “I never knew you had such a temper.”

  “Here’s the thing. If he’d said upfront that he needed some information and that he respected our friendship, I could have handled that. It was the sneaky way he went about it that ticked me off. He's just using me. If he wanted to be my boyfriend, he could have asked a long time ago. But now I know. He doesn’t care. Not really. I'm nothing to him. Less than nothing. His actions prove I'm a source. A confidential informant. Not a girlfriend."

  “I thought of you two as a couple.”

  “No. Not by a long shot,” she said. After a quick hesitation, she added, “You know that I spent time in jail, right?”

  “I heard something about it. I figured you’d tell me when you chose to.”

  “See? It’s a trust factor. That’s one of the reasons I am so loyal to you. You’ve trusted me from the beginning. You’ve never pushed. Here's the scoop: I took the fall for my first husband. I thought my life was ruined, but time behind bars gave me a chance to think about my future. Lou knows it did. When I was in jail, he visited me several times a week. I will always appreciate what he did. But back then, it was a one-up and one-down sort of relationship. It’s different now. I don’t want to feel like I owe him anything.”

  “You don’t. You paid your debt to society.”

  “He still sees me as a criminal.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “No way! That man adores you.”

  Jack pawed Skye’s shin. She lifted him up for a cuddle.

  “If he likes me so much, why hasn't he ever asked me out on a proper date? He meets me at the deli and walks me home. That’s it. We did go to that one holiday party at Ollie Anderson’s house, but you’d have never known we were there as a couple. I mean, some people figured it out, but it wasn’t like he seemed attached to me.”

  “I have a hunch that Lou’s scared to put himself out there,” I said. “Could be that he’s unsure about how to move forward.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship with a woman who’s served time. After all, he’s a cop. I’d probably be a big stumbling block to his career.”

  A part of me wanted to correct her, but what did I know? Not enough.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe Lou did view a relationship with Skye as a potential liability.

  If so, I didn’t want to encourage her. Skye’s blue eyes swam with tears that she flicked away with the back of her hand.

  My heart went out to her.

  CHAPTER 81

  By the time Skye, Jack, and I finished our walk, MJ and Honora had shown up for work. Sid strolled in twenty minutes late and immediately commandeered my computer. That bugged me. I’d gotten all wrapped up painting the sewing machine stands. I still hadn’t had the chance to do any research on Dozier—and I had plans to get to that today. Sid had already gotten comfortable in my big office chair. His fingers raced across my keyboard.

  No matter how frustrating it was not having computer access, I couldn't fuss at Sid. Not really. He had been doing a terrific job. After the store closed on Sunday, I had checked our online shopping cart. We'd moved a lot of merchandise. Much more than I’d have ever predicted we would sell through our website!

  “Cara! Come see!” Sid hollered from my office.

  I got behind the monitor and stared at the figures. Overnight, without any effort on my part, we’d sold nearly a thousand dollars of goods.

  Honora joined us. She was ecstatic as she realized how many of her tiny beach scenes would be going to new homes. MJ got a lead on a potential buyer for a Highwaymen painting, plus a message from someone who had one to sell. EveLynn's merchandise had been very popular, too. The last of Skye's sea heart necklaces had been bought and paid for.

  All in all, a wonderful result—and to think it happened while we were sleeping!

  Shortly after lunch, Poppy called. “I’m going through those papers on my desk,” he said. “The one in my spare bedroom. Haven’t found the key to the safe deposit box yet, but I’ll keep looking.”

  His industry took a load off my shoulders, especially when he added, “Don’t worry about getting Tommy through college. We’ll figure it out somehow. I’ve got money socked away just for situations like this.”

  I thanked him profusely and went back to trying to find products to plug holes in our online price points.

  Promptly at 3:30, Jason walked through the front door. I introduced him to Honora and Sid. Jack wriggled with joy, and Luna wound her way through Jason’s legs.

  "Are you ready?" he asked me. He was wearing a black jacket, gray slacks, and a starched white shirt.

  “Why?” I smiled at him. “Don’t I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

  “Uh,” he hesitated.

  Although I was wearing a simple black dress, I'd added a large scarf around my neck. It was silk printed in brilliant colors and outlined in black. When I removed the scarf and added a simple gold necklace, the outfit looked much more somber.

  "You ladies never cease to amaze me. A total transformation," he said, approvingly.

  “We’re leaving. Going to Kathy Simmons’ funeral,” I reminded my co-workers.

  I’d tacked up another copy of the Josiah Wentworth photo up on our newly repositioned bulletin board. As I’d hoped, it reminded me to tuck a nice copy of the picture into my purse. But first I slipped it into a protective padded envelope. I wanted it to be pristine for Kathy’s mother.

  “Stay out as long as you want, kids,” said MJ, as she watched me.

  That brought a blush to my face. “This isn’t a date, MJ.”

  “So? You can still enjoy the time away from the store, can’t you? Kathy wouldn't mind. Besides, she's already gone,” she said. “This isn’t for her. You’re showing kindness to her mother.”

  “We’ll be fine, Cara. Really we will," said Honora. "I can lock up the store for you."

  “Right, well. I have my phone with me, but it’ll be on vibrate.”

  "Cara?" Sid held out a large manila envelope. "Would you give this to Police Captain Davidson? We’ve been emailing back and forth. He plans to be there at the funeral, and he's expecting this folder. By the way, I'm keeping track of the time I’m spending working for the Stuart PD. He asked me to turn my hours in. I’ve got a copy for you, too."

  "Good work, Sid.” It would be nice to be reimbursed. I folded the envelope into my purse.

  Jason and I stepped out into a glorious Florida winter day. The temperature was perfect, the sky was a lovely cornflower blue, and the palm tree fronds rustled with a pleasing murmur.

  “Over here.” He took my elbow and steered me to my dream car, a sleek black Porsche. As Jason held the door, I climbed in and admired the beautiful leather upholstery. The engine sounded exactly like Luna’s purring. Although Jason drove at the posted speeds, I could still feel the raw power of the car, and I loved every minute of it.

  Rolling down the window, I let the wind blow my hair. When we crossed the long bridge at the north end of Stuart, I stared out into the water. I could not fathom eternity, but I guessed it must be like the ocean, going on and on and on.

  “Is it awful
for me to enjoy this?” I wondered out loud. “A young girl is dead, I'm going to her funeral, and I’m loving every minute of this drive.”

  Jason took my hand and squeezed it briefly before letting go to change gears. “I saw a lot of death while I was in the service, so I’ve had the chance to ask myself that very question. No, I don’t think it’s awful for us to enjoy ourselves. In fact, I think it’s a tribute to those who have passed on. What’s the point of being alive if we can’t enjoy what this world has to offer?”

  CHAPTER 82

  Penny and Whistler’s Funeral Home, Stuart, Florida

  My throat tightened as Jason turned into the parking lot of the funeral home.

  I faced him and said, “I think I should warn you. This is the first funeral I’ve attended since my father died six months after my mother passed.”

  “Have you changed your mind about going?”

  “No, I’m warning you that I might get emotional.” I felt the hitch in my voice, the prelude to tears. To keep myself calm, I opened my purse, pulled out a tube of lipstick and applied it. My mother always said that lipstick gave her courage. On a day like today, I could agree with her. I fumbled a little putting it back in my bag.

  “I brought a clean handkerchief,” Jason said, reaching into a pocket and showing me a white linen square.

  “I came prepared, too,” I said, as I waved a purse-size package of tissues.

  “That ought to hold us, don’t you think? If not, you can use the sleeve of my shirt. I washed and ironed it myself.”

  Hand in hand, we walked inside the building. Signs directed us to the service for Katherine Simmons. The "chapel" was actually just a room. Five people were already there.

  In the front row, next to a white coffin, sat a woman all alone. She was wearing a brown knit shirt and tan slacks. I guessed that she was Kathy's mother. Across the aisle, a few rows back, three people huddled together. Their professional clothing suggested that they were from the Shoreline News. Behind them sat Adrian Green, the back of his head recognizable by his haircut.