Written to Death, page 15
Valeria scowled at me. “I was at this slam poetry evening and he was one of the guys on stage. He came up to me after he read his stuff, said he wanted to buy me a drink and, you know, one thing led to another, and he asked me out. What’s so weird about that?”
“And was it your idea that Kevin should work here?”
She shrugged, suddenly looking uncertain. “No, it was his. He said it’d be dope if we worked together so I should put in a good word for him with my boss. And I totally agreed,” she added defensively.
“She totally did.” Kevin gave her a lazy smile and flicked her ponytail. “I needed a job, and I asked my girl for some help. Like that’s a crime.”
I smiled and continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Kevin was hanging out with Valeria yesterday afternoon when I stopped by to talk to David. He overheard me calling the Mystery Writer’s Guild to request the records of Hyde’s past workshops and realized I might be getting close to learning the truth. I heard someone sneaking up the stairs when I was in the basement. Like maybe someone had followed me down there to listen to my conversation. And then I remembered that when I left to meet Liam and his mother, Kevin was no longer in the café. Isn’t that right, Valeria?”
Valeria’s eyes darted to Kevin. She nodded slowly, unwillingly. “He left right before you did and he looked upset. I tried to ask him what’s up, but he just ran outta here.”
“He was in a hurry,” I explained. “He needed to get to Jeff’s car which he knew was parked down the block from the bakery. Because it was Kevin who tried to run me over yesterday. He’d heard Kathy saying that she still had Jeff’s car keys in her desk and it would’ve been easy for him to steal them while I was upstairs in the bathroom.” I glanced over at Kathy. “Am I right that you still haven’t returned the keys to Jeff?”
She shook her head, looking horrified. “I meant to but... I’m so sorry, Sandie.”
I nodded and continued, “Just as it was simple to steal the keys, it would’ve been easy to sneak into Hyde’s briefcase and add arsenic to his whiskey. Kevin planned on killing Hyde all along but when news of Crawford’s fall reached him, he saw an opportunity to confuse the investigation by making it look like it was more than an accident. He picked the lock on the inn’s service entrance and slipped the threat note under Hyde’s door during the night.”
“Come on! I had no reason to run you over...or kill Hyde,” Kevin spluttered.
“Yes, you did. Because of this.” I held up another piece of paper that had been faxed to us. “I don’t know if you knew of its existence, but I suspect you feared I would find out that you’d taken Hyde’s workshop before. You knew that, at the very least, it would establish your connection to the victim. But this piece of paper does much more than that. These are Hyde’s personal notes from the workshop you attended, and it gives you a very strong motive for killing him.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Despite the bravado, he sounded less sure of himself.
“Hyde wrote that your long-time girlfriend had also attended the workshop,” I told him. “He mentions that she was a looker. Actually, his exact words are that she’s ‘a real tasty little thing’. It’s all in here, all about how he stole a girl right from under the nose of the loser who took his class. He noticed her from day one, and that made you an obstacle to get out of the way. He seems to delight in describing how he ridiculed your writing, and made you look bad in front of the girl you loved. How he took every opportunity to present himself as the more advantageous match, and how he contrived to get her alone one evening. He goes into great detail about how he plied her with alcohol and then finally made his move.”
Kevin shook his head and swallowed hard. “That’s not true. I didn’t love her. I didn’t even like her that much. We were just fooling around, nothing serious. So, Hyde fooled around with her too. Who cares? There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
We were facing off now, just me and him in the room. Everyone else had faded from my awareness. As spectators, they weren’t even there, simply part of the décor. He was almost cornered, with no way out. And yet, as I readied myself to deliver the final blow, seeing the fear and pain in Kevin’s eyes, I hesitated. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity, I remembered why I had never wanted to become a real detective. Hunting people, making them face their worst fears, was this really who I was?
And then something flickered across Kevin’s face. Something primal, beyond fear or remorse. I saw it for just a fraction of a second, but it snapped reality back into place. The breath I didn’t know I was holding escaped my lungs in a gust.
“You weren’t just fooling around with her, Kevin. Here’s what Hyde wrote about what happened the next night. I’ll read it to you so you can hear it word for word: ‘Took her to a Spanish restaurant in Soho. The boyfriend stormed up to us at the table—we were having tapas and Sangria. He tried to punch me, the lunatic. I ducked out of the way, but he still grazed me. Lucky, he punches like he writes, or I’d be sporting a bruise now. Then the waiter and the busboy restrained the guy. It was so funny. He started crying and telling his girlfriend he was going to propose to her and... man, this part still has me in stitches. He said he wrote a book of poetry for her, and then started quoting from it while they threw him out. Here’s another kicker: he kept calling her ‘my sweet rosy-nosie’. What a pathetic mess. The guy had it coming. If I hadn’t stolen his girl, someone else would have.’”
Kevin’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter. He was chalk-white, but still holding on, still determined to fight this out. He shook his head. “It still doesn’t—”
“Rosy-nosie?” The voice came from Valeria and made him jump. He must’ve forgotten about her standing there.
I hadn’t. I’d been waiting for her reaction, almost certain it would come when she heard the last lines.
Big, red splotches had appeared on her cheeks. “That’s how you got me to go out with you. You read me a poem where you called me that name and you said it was about me. Now you telling me it was about some other girl?”
Kevin shook his head, looking terrified. “I... no!”
“And then you kept calling me Rosy-nosie. But it was her pet name first.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you were going to marry her!”
Kevin’s head swung from her to me, then to the two detectives standing near the entrance. His chest heaved, like a lid about to blow on a pot of boiling water. His sudden shriek pierced the café like a wounded animal lashing out one last time.
“I’m pathetic?” Mouth twisted in rage, he leveled a hateful stare at me. “He was the pathetic one. He got Lydia, the most beautiful woman in the world, and you know what he did? He dumped her after a month. He was nothing! Worthless! He deserved what he got...”
His voice died away just as suddenly, the realization of what was to come showing through in his stricken face. His mouth twitched as if he was about to cry.
He didn’t. Just hung his head and looked complacent as Ryan and Will took him away.
Chapter 21
Still Sunday, a couple of hours later
“It’s been quite a week,” Robin said as she hugged me good-bye. “I certainly feel I got my money’s worth in this workshop. Even if it didn’t exactly go as planned.”
We both laughed despite everything that had happened, and promised to keep in touch and to visit if and when we were in each other’s neck of the woods.
“And don’t get discouraged about getting the money for the bakery,” Robin added. “Everything could still work out for the best.”
I sighed. “Wish I could believe that. I just don’t know how that’s possible now.”
“You’ll see.” Robin nodded with conviction. “There’s always more than one solution to every problem. The one you’re aiming for might not even be the best one for you. I’ll keep sending you and your sister positive thoughts. I have a feeling this bakery isn’t done yet. Also,” she added in a whisper, “I did a special candlelight ritual in my hotel room last night. It will guarantee that your sister will save her bakery.”
I thanked her, grateful for the thought, but decided not to ask about the details of that ritual.
Robin turned to the others with a big smile on her face. “A reunion, that’s what we’ll have to do next. We can all get together for a weekend away. Maybe rent a cabin by the lake or a B&B or something.”
“Great idea!” Carlos said, hugging me and Robin at the same time. He had made up with his girlfriend the night before after convincing her to postpone the moving-in, with the stipulation that they’d keep some things at each other’s places. He had been beaming all morning.
“Maybe instead of a weekend it could be a whole week?” he added. “We could make it a writer’s retreat.”
“Or a writerly cross-country road trip. Jack Kerouac-style.”
We all turned to see Thomas Middleton stride into the café. His tall, thin frame blocked the doorway for a moment.
“Hey, man! They let you go!” Carlos gave him a high five. “Just in time for good-byes.”
Everyone else seconded Carlos’s sentiment and congratulated Thomas on having spent time in the slammer.
“Now you’ve had a real-life experience of the place for your future novels,” Janet said, looking envious.
Thomas grinned at her from his height. “Completely agree with that assessment. Pretty nifty stuff, if you ask me. I feel I finally joined the ranks of the hard-boiled jailbirds like Malcolm Braly, Joan Henry, Edward Bunker. Can’t wait to tackle my next novel. It’s going to be gritty!”
Behind the counter, Felisha and Josh both turned away, trying to hide their grins. Felisha’s shaking shoulders made it look like she was trying hard not to burst into laughter. I couldn’t blame her. We had to be the most eccentric bunch to ever grace the bakery.
They didn’t have much time for laughing, though. There was plenty of work to be done to get the place ready for customers again. To boot, Valeria had stormed out in tears after Kevin’s arrest which left Felisha and Josh to man the counter while Kathy and Tyrone got busy with the baking in the back room. I caught them both throwing me furtive glances, impatient for my help, while the students and I said our good-byes and exchanged phone numbers and promises to see each other again.
“Lucky you. You’ve got no doubts about being published,” Janet told Naveen with a sulky twist to her mouth. “Your book is already a bestseller.”
“Only it’s under another man’s name,” Naveen reminded her with a sardonic smile.
“I think that can be straightened out,” I said. “Once the truth comes out the publisher will have to make it right. And since your book has sold so well, I’m sure they’ll be interested in seeing what else you’re writing.”
“Like I said, lucky,” Janet mumbled.
“You’ll get there,” Carlos assured her. “Look how many awesome ideas you got this week. Just keep writing.”
She shrugged and hunched her shoulders as if the world with all its demands and expectations was pressing in on her. I had a sneaking suspicion she wished to disappear into another Tupperware bowl of soggy salad.
“So how about that future get-together?” Thomas asked, smiling at no one in particular and somehow making it seem as if he was looking at each and every one of us. “I wasn’t kidding about taking a road trip, you know.”
David Brown nodded. “We’ll definitely have to arrange something soon. Perhaps, you all could come down to North Carolina. I know of a beautiful lodge we could rent for a week in Smoky Mountains National Park.”
Naveen scratched his temple thoughtfully. “It would be better if we met up in Canada. Then I might be able to get away for a weekend.”
“At least you can go,” Lindy said, looking sulkily toward the street where a middle-aged couple waited with apparent impatience in a parked rental car. “My parents said I’m not allowed to go anywhere by myself again until I’m twenty-one.”
“What about me? I’ll be all the way in Ireland,” Shannon said, laughing. Then she gave Lindy a warm hug. “We’ll think of something, won’t we? Perhaps, you’ll all come visit me in Europe? I’m sure Robert wouldn’t mind if we had the retreat at our chateau. Provence may not be an NYC jail cell, but what it lacks in grit it more than makes up for in excellent wine and cheese.”
Her suggestion was met with the most enthusiasm. Even Naveen looked interested and said that maybe he’d try to convince his wife and kids to take a family vacation in France.
As they started filing out, my phone pinged with a text message. It was Dad.
“Hey, kiddo. Missed me? I’m on my way back, be there tomorrow afternoon. Expect you all for dinner. Got a big announcement to make.”
MONDAY NIGHT
The dining table under the old apple tree was awash in the ambient glow of lanterns and tiki torches and had all but disappeared under roasts, seafood, pasta and casseroles, some of which still sizzled in their pans.
At Dad’s request, Kathy let Felisha and Josh leave work early to get everything ready for dinner that night. The two of them had spent the better part of the afternoon frying, baking, sautéing and whatever else people did when they were good at cooking. The result was that a simple family dinner had somehow turned into a feast. Everyone agreed they’d gone a little overboard, but no one complained.
I cleaned a bowl of the superb clam chowder and hesitated over a choice of shrimp scampi or the creamy chicken parmesan with mushrooms—both my favorites—then decided to take some of each. I deserved it, after all.
“You guys eat like this often?” Tray asked as he reached for a helping of Beef Bourguignon.
“You joking?” Will grinned at him. Dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans, he looked well-rested and at least ten years younger. My baby brother again, not the police detective with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“If I ate like this every day,” he said, “you think I’d be able to chase the bad guys down the dark alleys? I’d have a heart attack.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you breaking your diet of all those nutritious chips,” Felisha said as she fed Tyrone a forkful of Cajun crab cakes she’d made especially for him. Tyrone smacked his lips and nodded for more.
“Guys, save room for dessert!” Kathy exclaimed, laughing. “Tray brought his famous tiramisu and Tammy made a peach cobbler.”
“And we’ve got all the ingredients for mint juleps,” Tammy added, nodding behind her at the mint growing in my vegetable patch.
I smiled at her. “Thanks for taking care of my plants this whole crazy week. You did a great job there.”
I wasn’t lying. A cat sitter Tammy Morrow wasn’t, but plants did seem to thrive in her care, looking larger and greener and healthier than they had all summer. Or maybe it was her renditions of Bon Jovi that did the trick. Okay. I might even try it myself once she was gone. I could belt out a decent “It’s My Life” on a good day—if no one was listening.
It was good to know the investigation was finally over and behind us, even if that relief came with a wrinkle.
The thought of the bakery’s imminent sale was a mood dampener, though we were determined not to let it spoil the evening.
Most of all, everyone was dying to hear Dad’s big announcement. It had been hours since his return, but we were still in the dark about the reason for his strange absence.
Finally, he decided he’d kept us in suspense long enough. Rising from the table, he held up his brandy for our attention.
“Kids, friends, pets,” he paused to stroke Marlowe sitting next to his chair. “As you all know I was away in Los Angeles this past week, and I feel I owe you an explanation for why I up and left so abruptly.”
Everyone nodded. An explanation was indeed in order.
He smiled. “You see, I got a letter from the Friends of Raymond Chandler Society I belong to. It informed me that in honor of the anniversary of Chandler’s birth, they were organizing a momentous event: a scavenger hunt around the city and all the important landmarks that appear in his books.”
I couldn’t help laughing. A scavenger hunt through Raymond Chandler landmarks. What else could’ve made Dad fly all the way across the country on a moment’s notice?
“What was the prize?” I asked.
“The prize was the best part. And here it is.” Beaming brighter than the sun, he opened an old briefcase which he’d stashed next to his chair and produced a worn, dog-eared paperback; he held it by the edges with infinite care, like he would a butterfly’s wing.
The Big Sleep, first edition. The one title that had been missing from his collection and had eluded him for so long. The book that nearly cost Dad his freedom and set me on the path of solving my first real-life murder. The book that launched my career as an author.
Forgetting all the worry he’d caused us, I got up and gave him a tight hug. “Congratulations, Dad. Now you finally have the whole set.”
He nodded, still grinning. “I can honestly say I can die happy now. No, no. Don’t worry,” He laughed at our alarmed looks. “I’m not going anywhere yet. At least... not that far.”
Kathy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“That’s what I’m about to tell you.”
“So, the scavenger hunt wasn’t the announcement?” Felisha asked.
“No. The scavenger hunt is why I was away this past week. The announcement is coming in a moment.”
Reverently, he put The Big Sleep back in his briefcase and raised his brandy again. “Here goes; I’ve decided to move back to Kentucky.”
He took a dramatic pause, waiting for gasps and exclamations that didn’t come. We simply sat and stared at him.
He shrugged. “Anyway. I’m moving in with our cousin Edna. You must’ve noticed I’ve been going down there more often lately. I’ve realized I’m tired of the city, even of the quiet little borough we live in. I want to live in the country again. Fresh air, the quiet, walking barefoot in the grass and all that. And Edna’s getting on in years so she needs a helping hand around the farm now that her husband’s gone.”
