And a Puzzle to Die On (37 page)

“Having met the woman, I find that hard to buy. Because Stacy Daigue has the same hereditary characteristic as her brother. It’s impossible to imagine her committing an unselfish act. No, Stacy is just as ruthless and cunning as brother Darryl.

“She is also damn smart. Something is going on. She wants to know why. So she starts with the parole board. That leads her straight to you and the doc. Add in the fact the doctor is the source of Darryl’s current scapegoat, Ricky Gleason, and a nasty picture begins to
emerge. Stacy pokes into your past, and she’s much quicker than I to figure out who you really are. Of course, she’s about your age, was around back then, might have even known you. No matter. The fact is, she makes the connection and starts tailing you. Runs into Valerie Thompkins and the private eye. This is pay dirt and she knows it, particularly when the P.I. starts tailing me. When he knocks off, she puts a brick through my window just to see what I’ll do.

“What I do is show up in her diner. The very next day. Stacy nearly plotzes. How the hell did I get onto her so fast? She’s amused and relieved to find out I think she hired me. She denies it, of course. But when I leave, she tags along.

“Burnside the detective is on my tail too. But he’s not the swiftest tool in the drawer. He doesn’t spot Stacy, she spots him. So what happens? I lead him right to the police. What the hell is that about? Actually, it’s just my niece’s way of conning me to my surprise party. But the detective doesn’t know that, and neither does Stacy. When Harper and I head for the library the detective follows.

“Which is when the guy makes his fatal mistake. He doesn’t dare walk into the library right behind us. He goes around to the back door. Creeps up the stairs to the stacks.

“Stacy Daigue is right on his tail. She walks up behind Burnside, puts a razor to his throat, and asks him what he’s doing.”

Cora made a face. “I only met the guy once, but he struck me as the type who’d spill his guts. I imagine when it penetrated his thick skull that Stacy Daigue really did have a razor at his throat, he told her everything she wanted to know.

“Unluckily for Burnside, this did no good. As soon as Stacy’s got the goods, she slits his throat and drops him in my birthday cake.

“The only thing she didn’t get was the location of the videotape, or she would have stolen it when she knocked off Valerie. Destroying the tape, you see, would have ended your leverage with the warden. It was the only way to keep from killing you.”

“Killing
me
?”

“Yeah. I don’t think she wanted to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she knows who you are.” Cora sighed. “I do, too. I know from the porno video. Only two women had enough motive to set up the warden by appearing in that tape. If you were Cindy Tambourine, you could have wanted to free your boyfriend. If you were Gwendolyn Dryer, you could have wanted to get Darryl Daigue out of jail … and, once you did, to kill him.”

Ida Blaine gasped.

“Stacy knew you were Gwendolyn Dryer. She knew Darryl viciously murdered your sister.” Cora shrugged. “I could be wrong. It could be Stacy just wanted you to live in frustration the way her brother lives in captivity. After all, she did mean to thwart your efforts.”

“I see.”

“Yes, you do. It’s dawning on you now, isn’t it? But the realization’s there. The tapes are gone. Given the scrutiny this case has been under, there’s no way of ever getting Darryl Daigue paroled. No way you can finish the job.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ida asked softly.

“I feel for you. Despite what you planned. I want to
give you some advice: Let it go. You got lucky this time. You’re not involved. No one suspects you’re Gwendolyn Dryer. No one suspects a thing. You got off scot-free this time. Let it go.”

Ida Blaine said something unintelligible.

“What?”

“I can’t,” Ida said, louder.

“Yes, you can. You saw Darryl Daigue in court. You saw his face. He’s been beaten in jail.”

“So?”

“Darryl’s lawyer may not have been much good, but there’s one thing he did do. He got him released on bail. It was revoked when the trial started, but Darryl was out free after the murder.”

“I remember,” Ida said bitterly. “If I’d just done something then.”

“Cindy Tambourine didn’t testify at the trial. Even as a character witness. Much less an alibi witness. And girlfriends usually do.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I figure Darryl went over her testimony with Cindy, and didn’t like what he heard. So Cindy disappeared.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know damn well what I’m saying. There’s no record of Cindy Tambourine anywhere after the trial. She just vanished.”

Ida Blaine looked at Cora searchingly. “What are you getting at? You can prove Daigue killed Cindy? Try him again, get him the death penalty?”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t even prove she’s
dead
.”

“Then what’s your point?”

“Tambourine’s an unusual name. I checked the prison files, and guess what?”

Ida Blaine’s eyes widened. “No …”

“Yes. Just admitted. Criminal assault. Kenneth Tambourine. Notorious low-life. Two-time loser, and general all-around scum. Dropped out of Bakerhaven High shortly after the Darryl Daigue trial. Been getting into mischief ever since. This is Kenneth’s first incarceration at Brandon State Penitentiary. So far no one’s made the connection between him and Darryl Daigue. Not the real connection. They just figured Darryl sold him bad drugs.”

“You mean Tambourine’s the one who beat Daigue up?”

“Among others. Kenneth just made better work of it. The way I understand it, Kenny could have killed Darryl. Instead he beat him bad.” Cora shrugged. “I guess he didn’t want to kill him—yet. Not when he’ll have so many more opportunities to beat Darryl within an inch of his life. Tambourine’s serving five-to-ten.”

“I hope Kenneth Tambourine never gets out!”

“Well, I got some good news for you in that regard.”

“What’s that?”

Cora smiled. “You’re on the parole board.”

Ida Blaine’s smile was probably the first genuine one she’d smiled in twenty years. “Damned if I’m not!”

Sherry Carter and Aaron Grant came out the screen door as Ida Blaine drove off. Buddy pelted across the lawn and leaped into Cora’s arms. She hefted the tiny dog, which immediately began licking her face.

“Cut it out, Buddy.”

“What’s her story?” Aaron asked Cora, gesturing at Ida.

“She just wanted to make sure the videotapes are suppressed.”

“And that’s all?” Sherry said.

“Are you kidding?” Cora said. “You
begged
me to ditch that nude reel of
you
.”

“What nude reel of you?”

“She’s kidding, Aaron. Can’t you tell when Cora’s kidding?”

“It’s in the middle of
Sleepless in Seattle
,” Cora said. “Unfortunately, it got returned to the video store.”

“Arf!”
Buddy said.

Cora put him down. He bounded around the yard in a large, crazy circle and leaped back in her arms again.

“What are you going to do with him?” Aaron asked.

“Why? You want him?”

“Are you kidding? I can’t take a dog. Besides, he seems to like you.”

“We have a no-dog policy,” Cora said. “We’ll have to find him a home.”

“ASPCA?”

“I don’t know. I hear if they can’t place them, they put them to sleep.”

“They’d place him.”

“He’s an old dog. People want puppies.”

“Actually,” Sherry said, eyeing her aunt, “the no-dog policy was for large dogs. Dobermans. Rottweilers. It hardly applies.”

Cora looked at her in surprise. “Really?”

Sherry smiled. “Happy birthday, Cora.”

“You hear that, Buddy?” Cora said. “You’re reprieved!”

Buddy responded to the news by slobbering all over Cora’s cheeks.

Cora chuckled. “You know something? This is turning out to be the best birthday I ever had!”

He couldn’t believe it! She hadn’t answered his letter. True, he hadn’t left a return address, but there were so many other ways. And a clever woman could find them. And she was not just a clever woman, she was a brilliant woman. When it came to delving, investigating, figuring things out
.

So why hadn’t she?

The thought that tortured him was, What if she had? What if she’d devised some clever means of communication that he was too slow to grasp? What if she had already answered him in one way or
another? What if her answer was waiting for him right now?

But what kind of answer could it be? An ad in the Personals column? What Personals column? And what newspaper? How would he know?

No, there was only one way she could communicate. Only one way he expected her to. Only one way that made sense
.

After all, she had a nationally syndicated crossword-puzzle column. And how simple it would be to slip a word or phrase into the puzzle. Meaningless to everyone else, but a wink and a nod to him. And wouldn’t that be delicious. To have a secret. Their secret. In plain view, on display, for everyone to see. If only they had the perspicacity to glean the hidden meaning. To crack the secret cypher
.

Each morning he snatched up the paper, flipped to the Entertainment section, and solved the puzzle, always in under five minutes. For the next half hour he would study what he’d done, searching for a clue
.

Which never came
.

It infuriated him. Was it possible she hadn’t gotten the letter? He had written care of the paper, not having her address. It was only a local paper, but still, they would forward it, wouldn’t they? And the breakfast cereal company. He had written her care of that too. She was the spokesperson for the company. Surely they would send her mail
.

If not, he would have to get her home address. He
hated to do it. It would make him seem like an obsessed fan. Like that nutcase who kept showing up at David Letterman’s
.

And it wasn’t that way with him. It wasn’t that way at all. He was her confederate, her peer, her equal. Theirs was a true meeting of the minds
.

If only he could arrange the introduction
.

Should he nudge the breakfast cereal company?

Perhaps
.

Or maybe it was time for a special delivery
.