Cat Trick (23 page)

23

M
aggie’s bug was angled nose-in at the curb along the boardwalk, in front of the two
tents. There was no sign of her or Liam. Or Alex Scott.

“Stay here,” I told the cats. I got out of the truck, locked the door and headed for
the nearest tent, where I could see lights inside.

Larry Taylor had finished rigging the lighting, so the inside of the tent was as bright
as day. The booths were all in place, following an S-shaped curve. Maggie was about
a quarter of the way down the line, just past Sweet Things, which was Georgia’s booth.
Alex Scott was with her. There was no sign of Liam. This wasn’t how I’d wanted things
to go.

Maggie smiled when she saw me. “Hi,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, hoping I didn’t look as anxious as I felt. “I knew there was a lot to
get done tonight. I just came to see if you needed any help.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You’ve met Alex, haven’t you?”

“A couple of times, but not officially,” I said. I walked over to them and held out
my hand. “Hi, Alex. I’m Kathleen Paulson,” I said.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he said. He was wearing jeans, a dove gray shirt and
a dark blue jacket. He turned to Maggie. “Kathleen gave me directions at the library
and she suggested the little café down the street.” His gaze moved back to me and
he gave me a practiced smile. “The food was excellent, by the way. Thank you.”

He was handsome and charming, but I knew that was just the outside man. If you peeled
off the manners and the expensive clothes, underneath there was something dark and
slimy.

“You’re welcome,” I said. I glanced around the tent. “Where’s Liam?”

“There was something Marcus needed him to take care of,” Maggie said. “It couldn’t
wait, so I offered to meet Alex and show him around.”

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Alex wasn’t going to plant something to throw suspicion on
Georgia. Or maybe he hadn’t had a chance with Maggie right beside him. Maybe I could
walk around with the two of them and everything would be fine.

I took a few steps backward and gestured at the Sweet Things booth. “Maggie, who did
the sign for Sweet Things?” I asked. “It’s wonderful.”

It actually was. The artist had created a stylized line drawing of a cupcake with
a cherry on top, the bottom edge of the cupcake turning into the words “Sweet Things,”
written in pink script.

“Ruby did that,” Maggie said. “She did the signs we’re going to use outside and over
at the art show too.”

“Ruby is the artist with the rainbow-sherbet-colored hair, isn’t she?” Alex asked.
When he smiled, I noticed it didn’t go as far as his eyes.

“That’s right,” Mags said. The smile she gave Alex was much warmer. “Guess what? Alex
is going to take four dozen of Georgia’s cupcakes with him for a meeting tomorrow
morning in Minneapolis.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said.

I moved closer to the front of the kiosk, eyeing the pale varnished wood and the area
around it while I pretended to look at Ruby’s work.
You’re just being paranoid
, I told myself. Then I saw it: a tiny corner of cream-colored paper. It looked as
though a business card had been slipped in between a side support and the flat front
counter of the booth.

I swallowed, hoping no reaction showed on my face. All I had to do was keep an eye
on the booth and wait to hear from Marcus.

Maggie came to stand beside me. She pointed up at the sign. “See how Ruby has the
letters coming out of the line of the cupcake? For outside, she did an outline of
Wild Rose Bluff, which turns into the words ‘A Taste of Mayville Heights,’ and then
into a wild rose.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” I said.

I was about to suggest that she finish showing Alex around when suddenly she frowned
and leaned forward. “Wait a second. What’s that?” She was pointing at that little
corner of card stock. “I thought Burtis said all the booths had been cleaned.”

As an artist, Maggie was incredibly observant. This time I wished she hadn’t been.

“I think it’s just a bit of cardboard,” I said. “Burtis probably had cardboard and
plastic around all of these booths to keep them from getting banged up when they’re
not being used.”

Before I could say anything else, she leaned over, caught the edge of the card with
a nail—it was a business card—and pulled it free. She looked at me, giving her head
a little shake. “How the heck did that get there?” she said. She studied the heavy
off-white card stock. “I wonder who Victor Wyler is.”

Alex shrugged. “Probably the last person who rented the tent and the booths.” He looked
around. “Maggie, I think everything is fine. I appreciate you coming to let me look
things over, but you have a lot to do. I’m just going to go. Tell Liam I’ll see him
tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Maggie asked.

He nodded. “It looks fantastic. I need to head back to Minneapolis anyway. I have
that meeting in the morning. I should be here before lunch tomorrow, though.”

He’d ordered four dozen of Georgia’s cupcakes to take to that meeting. Was he going
to plant something at her house, too? I couldn’t take the chance.

“Victor Wyler is Georgia’s father-in-law,” I said. “Former father-in-law, actually.”

Maggie looked from the card to me. “He is?”

“She probably just dropped it, then,” Alex said, pulling his keys from the pocket
of his jacket.

In a moment, he was going to be past me and I wouldn’t be able to stop him from leaving.
I pressed my hand against my leg, hoping he wouldn’t see the tiny tremble in my fingers.

“She didn’t drop it,” I said. “You put it there.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know anyone by the name of—what was it? Wyler?” He didn’t
seem the least bit uncomfortable. He gave Maggie that polite, practiced smile. “I’ll
see you tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to do the big melodramatic moment, like we were playing a game of Clue—the
killer was Mr. Scott in the tent with the curtain—but I couldn’t think of any other
way to keep him from going. And suddenly it seemed like a very bad idea to let him
leave.

“Did you plan on killing Mike from the beginning?” I asked. “Or were you hoping somehow
that you could convince him to just go away quietly?”

“Excuse me?” Alex said. He had just the right amount of incredulous anger in his expression.

Maggie’s eyes shifted between the two of us. “Kathleen, what’s going on?” she asked.
I noticed she had carefully slipped the business card into the pocket of her jeans.

I took a step close to Alex, effectively blocking his way. I wondered if he could
hear my heart pounding in my chest. “Mike was ruining your business, wasn’t he? Oh,
you were making money, but not in the way you wanted to.”

“My business isn’t any of your business,” he said.

“I wondered why on earth you’d ever agreed to that juicy contract in the first place,”
I said. “But you had to, didn’t you? That’s the problem when you make a deal with
the devil. He gets to dictate the terms.”

He switched his keys from one hand to the other. “I don’t mean to offend you, Ms.
Paulson,” he said. “But I think you need some professional help.”

“Your brother wrote the bar exam for you.”

His hand tightened around the ring of keys. If I hadn’t been watching for the movement,
I would have missed it.

He gave me a cool smile. “Clearly, research is one of your strengths. You obviously
know I didn’t pass the bar on my first try—or my second—but I did pass eventually.
Myself.”

I kept going as though he hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know how Mike figured it out, or
what he had for proof, but you paid him off and you thought that would be the end
of things. And then Mike needed a job. He blackmailed you.” I wrapped my hand around
the cell phone in my pocket, wishing Marcus would call, or even better, show up.

“Mike Glazer was my friend as well as my partner,” Alex said. “And there was nothing
to blackmail me about. I’m offended that you’d even suggest he’d do something like
that.” His voice was just a little bit less controlled.

Maggie touched my arm. “Are you serious?” she said. “You think he killed Mike?”

“He did kill Mike,” I said. I didn’t look at her. I kept my eyes on Alex. “I’m guessing
you didn’t set out to make Georgia Tepper the fall guy,” I continued. “I think that
was just a happy little coincidence of Georgia being in the wrong place at the wrong
time.”

He shook his head and moved to push past me. I stepped in front of him. “Somewhere
there’s going to be a receipt for that airbrush makeup kit you bought,” I said with
a confidence I didn’t feel. “The police are going to figure out that there isn’t a
single photo of you and your brother together at that benefit. And they will find
Mike Glazer’s briefcase. They might have to search every garbage can and Dumpster
between Mayville Heights and Minneapolis, but they will find it.”

Just like that, the charming businessman was gone, his face all tight, angry lines.
He grabbed my upper arm, fingers digging painfully into the skin. “Stop talking!”
he said in a rough-edged voice.

Maggie sucked in a breath.

I swallowed and bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t give away how much he was
hurting me. “What did he do?” I asked, working to keep any shakiness out of my voice.
“I know you didn’t plan to hurt him.”

“I didn’t,” he said. He swiped his free hand over the back of his neck. The veneer
of the polished businessman had all peeled away.

“What happened?”

“He had some kind of crisis of conscience.” He exhaled loudly. “He said he wanted
to be a man of integrity.” Alex laughed, and the sound was harsh against the soft
wall of the tent. “He didn’t know a damn thing about integrity.”

So something Wren had said to Mike had gotten through to him. I didn’t say that, though.
“So tell that to the police,” I said. “Everyone in town knows the kind of person Mike
Glazer was.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. He pulled on my arm, twisting it up behind my back at
an unnatural angle.

I clenched my teeth. It felt as though my shoulder were going to come right out of
its socket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur of black-and-white fur as a
yowling Hercules seemed to come from nowhere to land in a crouch on the counter of
the Sweet Things booth. His fur was on end and his ears were flat against his head.

Alex swore. “Where the hell did that thing come from?” he said. The cat was enough
of a distraction that I managed to wrench my arm free.

He raised his hand and a voice behind us said, “Don’t do that, Mr. Scott.”

Marcus.

Alex hesitated, and without warning, Maggie’s hand shot out and locked on to his arm
at the elbow. She smiled, but there was no warmth in her expression. “It would be
a good idea to listen to Detective Gordon,” she said. “I could break your arm if I
have to. I don’t want to, but I can.” Hercules shook himself and straightened up,
watching Maggie intently.

Marcus walked over to us. “You can let go,” he said to Mags.

She nodded and released Alex’s arm, wiping her hand on her jeans.

Marcus looked at me. “You all right?” he asked.

I nodded. “He killed Mike Glazer,” I said.

Marcus nodded. “I know.”

He knew? How did he know?

After that, things seemed to happen in a blur of activity. Alex Scott was taken away
in a police car, more police officers arrived and we were herded out onto the walkway.

“Are you all right?” Maggie asked. She touched my shoulder and I winced. “Okay, obviously
you’re not.”

“No, I’m all right,” I said. I had my good arm wrapped around Hercules. It had gotten
colder now that the sun was down, but holding the little black-and-white cat was like
having a portable heater. Maggie was already pulling out her cell phone. “What are
you doing?” I said.

“Calling Roma.” She shrugged. “I know you won’t go to the emergency room, and since
you’re stubborn as a mule, it seems appropriate to get her to take a look at that
shoulder.”

I made a face at her, and she gave me a smile as she put the phone to her ear and
took a couple of steps away from me. Roma had first aid training, so it wasn’t really
that outlandish an idea to call her.

Hercules put a paw gently on my shoulder. “I’m okay,” I said. He narrowed his eyes
at me. “I am, really.”

I stroked his fur with one finger. “You were supposed to stay in the truck.” He looked
all around as though he had suddenly lost the ability to hear me. I bent down and
kissed the top of his furry head. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Maggie closed her phone and walked back to me. “Roma is going to meet us at your house
in a little while.” She gestured at Hercules. “How did he end up here?”

“They like to ride in the truck. I didn’t see him jump out when I got out.” She frowned,
but I figured it was more believable than “He walked through the closed truck door
because that happens to be his superpower.”

Maggie looked over at the tent. “Why did Alex kill Mike?”

“He couldn’t pass the bar exam. Christopher, on the other hand, aced it the first
time. They were identical twins. I think eventually they came up with the idea that
Christopher would take Alex’s place.”

“And somehow Mike found out.”

I nodded. “It looks that way.” Herc twisted in my arm so he could look over my shoulder.

“And he was blackmailing them.”

“And taking kickbacks from some of the businesses they dealt with.”

“Do you think Mike did have a change of heart?”

“I do. I think Wren’s words got to him.”

Maggie pushed a stray curl off her forehead. She glanced over at the sidewalk. Liam
was there, talking to a police officer. She pointed in his direction. “I’m just going
to go talk to Liam for a minute, and then I’m going to find Marcus and see if we can
leave.”

“Okay,” I said. She headed for the sidewalk, and at the same time Marcus came out
of the tent. He stared at me for a long moment and then walked across the grass to
me.