Death at a Premium (20 page)

“Are you telling us that no one mentioned the murders or Josie or Island Contracting after you got to the police station?” Sam asked.

“Yup. They were just interested in my tickets once we got there.”

“Didn’t you think that was strange?” Mary Ann asked.

“Hell, I was just relieved that they weren’t going to arrest me. If they wanted to waste their time talking about a bunch of old tickets, who was I to complain?”

Josie looked at Sam. “What do you think?”

He shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in the minds of the island police? You know how it is.”

She did and she didn’t. But one thing she was sure of: They were wasting time. “Then we better get back to work. Those windows aren’t going to put themselves in.” She stood up and stretched her arms high above her head. “I’ll see you tonight, Sam?”

“I’ll pick you up at home.”

“How about at my office? I need to feed the kittens,” Josie suggested. “Around seven?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You guys get to work and I’ll walk Sam to his car,” Josie ordered.

She was the boss, they were her crew. In less than five minutes she and Sam were alone. “What do you really think?” she demanded, after a series of loud thumps convinced her that work was being done.

“That something fishy is going on here. The Rodneys are idiots, but they’re not complete idiots. They must have taken Leslie down to the station for a reason.”

“But what?” she asked.

“Damned if I know. Just how much do you know about Leslie Coyne?”

“Not much. He has some sort of health condition, but it doesn’t affect his work,” she added, realizing she was steering too close to a topic she didn’t want to introduce. “He’s an excellent electrician.”

“Women like him. You like him,” Sam interrupted.

She looked up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“He’s young. He’s good-looking. He spends most of each day with you.” Sam looked down at Josie. “I am a bit jealous. I don’t think I’d ever appreciated your dedication to hiring women who need to change their lives until Leslie appeared on the scene.”

Josie smiled. “I don’t think anyone has ever been jealous of another man because of me before.”

“Get used to it. I’m planning on being jealous of all the men in your life forever. Now, back to the subject at hand . . .”

“Why the Rodneys took Leslie down to the station and asked him about his past tickets,” Josie said.

“Yes.”

“Do you think it had something to do with his past? The jobs he had? The places he lived? The women he was involved with? That’s what they asked him about, right?”

“Right. And that’s the problem. The only way we’re going to know what they really were investigating is to look at all those things and figure out what might interest the police.”

“Like what?”

“Like did he date someone involved in criminal activities? Was he involved in something criminal in one of the places or on one of the jobs in his past? I think we can assume that the Rodneys knew what they were looking for.”

“But we don’t, do we?”

“Not unless Leslie has been more honest with you than I think he has,” Sam said.

Josie thought about that for a moment. “He hasn’t said anything to me, but maybe Vicki knows more about him than I do, and maybe I can get her to tell me what it is.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Sam frowned. “How do you know Leslie has a health problem?”

“Oh, you know, insurance forms,” Josie said, keeping her answer purposely vague.

Sam frowned, but he didn’t say anything more on the subject. “You said you want me to pick you up at the office?”

“Yes. We’re going to be working late and I want to check my answering machine before we go out tonight. Besides, I need to feed the kittens.”

Sam kissed her on the top of her head. “Only you would try to run a kitten adoption agency out of your office. Are you expecting an important call?”

“Backorders at the hardware store. You know how it is,” Josie lied.

“Just as long as they don’t take too long. I promised Basil we’d meet him at seven-thirty. We have a lot of decisions to make if we’re going to ask Basil to cater our reception.”

Josie tried to smile. She had a few decisions to make herself, and none of them had to do with their wedding. They were things she would rather keep to herself.

TWENTY-FOUR

IF FIVE PEOPLE are working to replace a small window, at least two of them are going to be in the way, so Josie was able to maneuver some time alone with Vicki—who, she discovered, was anxious to talk with her.

“Do you think the police are going to arrest Leslie?” Vicki asked as the two women began to rip layers of cracked and filthy linoleum off the floor of one of the third floor half-baths.

Josie put down her crowbar and sat back on her work boots, determined to be the one to ask questions. “Not unless he’s guilty of something other than not paying speeding tickets. And he isn’t, is he?”

Vicki’s crow bar crashed to the floor. “Of course he isn’t! You don’t know Leslie the way I do! He’s kind and sweet and nice and good and . . .”

“And honest?” Josie asked when Vicki’s list of Leslie’s virtues dwindled off.

“Of course he’s honest! He’s always been honest with me. In fact, he even told me that he was involved with someone else when we met. Not many men do that, do they?”

“I haven’t been involved with all that many men,” Josie admitted. “But, to tell the truth, I don’t think I’d want a man I was involved with to be involved with someone else—and telling me about it wouldn’t make it better. At least I don’t think it would. If you understand what I mean.”

“But it’s not like that. I love Leslie. I loved him the very moment I saw him. I didn’t care about the other woman when he told me about her. It was all over—or it was about to end—when we met, and I loved him immediately.”

Josie realized she wasn’t going to learn anything if Vicki thought she was being judgmental. “Of course. And it’s obvious that he cares deeply about you,” she said hesitantly. She actually had no idea how Leslie felt about Vicki, and he seemed to flirt with every woman he came in contact with. “How did you meet?” she asked.

“At the convention in Washington. I thought Nic would have told you that.”

“You met in DC? Right before you came here?”

“It was love at first sight,” Vicki explained earnestly.

“For both of you? I mean, how do you know what Leslie was feeling?”

“He told me that it was the same for him,” Vicki answered proudly. “He said he had never felt the way he felt about me before—you know, instantly in love.”

“Yeah, I think that’s probably sort of rare for anyone.” Josie was afraid she might sound a bit sarcastic.

If so, Vicki didn’t appear to realize it. “Oh, it is!” she gushed. “Our meeting was so lucky. I was going to come here alone. I’d already rented my apartment and everything. And Leslie was going to take a job somewhere in the South. If we hadn’t met when we did and fallen in love immediately, why, we could be living hundreds of miles apart. We might never, ever have run into each other.”

“So you two are living in an apartment you rented before you met Leslie,” Josie commented.

“Yes. Wasn’t that lucky? We came here when everyone else did, but we had a few days to drive around, walk on the beach, get to know the place. Leslie says he doesn’t really feel comfortable until he’s spent some time wandering around alone.”

“And you’re paying for the apartment?”

“I know how it sounds, but I don’t mind paying the rent myself—I was planning to anyway. And I know Leslie will pay me back when he gets on his feet again. That girl he was involved with when he met me sounds like a real witch—or a real bitch to tell the truth.”

“Why do you say that? What did she do?”

“She took everything he had. It was just awful!”

Josie repeated her last question. “But what did she do?”

Vicki ripped up a long chunk of linoleum before answering.

“She lied about being pregnant.”

“Leslie left a woman who was pregnant?”

“No! He would never do that. She told him she was pregnant and that she needed money for an abortion. Leslie was shocked—she had told him that she was taking birth control pills. And he offered to do the right thing and marry her. He didn’t love her at all, so it was really wonderful of him to offer, don’t you think?”

Josie was relieved that Vicki didn’t stop talking long enough to listen to what she thought.

“She insisted that he give her money for an abortion and then she didn’t have one.”

Josie’s own history didn’t allow her to ignore this one. “He left her pregnant?” she asked again.

“No! That’s just the point. She wasn’t pregnant. She just wanted the money. And you wouldn’t believe what she used the money he gave her for.”

“No, probably not.”

“Tattoos! She wanted to get tattoos! Do you believe that? Doesn’t she sound just awful?”

“She certainly doesn’t sound like a very nice person. Why do you think Leslie stayed with her?”

For the first time in the conversation, Vicki seemed uncertain of her answer. “I think that maybe he felt sorry for her. He did say that she was a pathological liar— almost unable to distinguish between the truth and fiction.”

Josie was busy trying to wedge her paint scraper beneath a particularly well-glued section of flooring, so she didn’t reply for a minute.

“It’s not that I haven’t wondered if maybe Leslie was taking advantage of her—living in her home and all— but he told me that he felt he had to take care of her, that she shouldn’t be living alone. He thought it might not be safe for her to be on her own, considering her psychological problems.”

“But when he met you?”

“He fell in love and knew he had to be with me. And he decided he shouldn’t sacrifice his life for that other girl. He saw someone on television—one of those shows that has a therapist helping people—and that man, a real qualified doctor, said it wasn’t healthy to give up your dreams for another person. So he came here to the island with me.”

“It’s lucky you two met each other when you did,” Josie said, meaning—but not saying—that it had certainly been lucky for Leslie.

“Oh, it is. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met him. I’m so happy now!”

“I just hope the island police don’t do something stupid,” Josie said.

“They can’t really believe that Leslie would do anything illegal . . .”

“Other than speeding and not paying his tickets.”

“Yes, but that’s not the same as murder!”

“No, of course not.” Josie paused before continuing. “Do you have any idea why the police are so interested in Leslie’s past? Where he worked and lived and all that?”

“I trust Leslie.”

“Yes, of course. I can’t imagine being romantically involved with anyone I didn’t trust, but the truth is I don’t know everything that happened in Sam’s past.”

“No, I don’t know much about Leslie’s past either,” Vicki admitted. “But I haven’t known Leslie as long as you’ve known Sam.”

“Were you surprised by Leslie’s driving record? All those speeding tickets.” Josie turned away and worked with her back to Vicki.

“Yeah, I was. You don’t think it affects my driving record in any way, do you? My parents gave me my car when I graduated from the local community college and they still pay my insurance. I sure wouldn’t want them to have to pay higher premiums.”

“Is it your car that Leslie is driving?”

“Yes. His car . . . well, I’m not exactly sure what happened to it, but I think the woman he was involved with has it for some reason or other.”

“So . . .” Josie began slowly.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that Leslie is taking advantage of me. But it’s not true. He loves me. It just doesn’t always look like that . . . I mean, I don’t want people to misunderstand.”

“I don’t doubt that he loves you,” Josie lied. “But I know better than almost anyone else on the island how incompetent the Rodneys and the police department are. And I don’t understand why Leslie was hauled down to the police department and asked all those questions. And I do need to know—not because I distrust Leslie, but because I need to protect my company and this job. We can’t do this job without Leslie, and believe me, the Rodneys can make things very difficult for all of us if they decide to.”

“You think that Leslie was questioned for a reason. I mean, you think the police know something about him that might involve some sort of illegal activity. Right?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“Leslie would never break the law, except for speeding.”

“But what if someone he knows—or knew—did something illegal and the police are interested in that? Leslie might not even know about it. But he might have told you about that person or something happening that seemed unusual at the time . . . or something like that.”

Vicki put down her tools, wiped sweat off her forehead, and straightened her shoulders. “Leslie is always involved with a woman. No matter where he lives or where he works, he always has a girlfriend. That I do know. I don’t know who all of them are, of course. I mean, we’ve talked about our past—like you do—but sometimes he leaves out details, like where he was living when he was dating the woman who worked as an exotic dancer. Maybe Vegas? I know he worked there for a while. Or even when he dated the women. I get confused, but I would remember if he had told me about anything illegal. He didn’t even mention those tickets.” She smiled. “He probably wanted to protect me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me too much,” Josie said, although she was convinced that the only person Leslie was really interested in protecting was himself.

TWENTY-FIVE

THE CREW WORKED hard, and by six-thirty everyone was tired and hungry. Nic was getting into her purple truck when Josie caught up with her outside of the Bride’s Secret Bed and Breakfast. “Do you have a few minutes?” she asked.

“Sure. Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“Ah . . . yeah, could you take me to my office?”