Ellen McKenzie 03-And Murder for Desser (24 page)

“Got you.”

A strong hand grabbed my wrist; my feet slipped, and I screamed. Larry’s face loomed over me, contorted in fury, while his other hand waved that awful knife.

“You can’t get away from me. Why did you try? You were probably laughing, too. Just like all the others. Just like my father, like Otto. You don’t think I can do this dinner, do you? Well, you’ll see. No. You won’t. For I have to kill you, don’t I?”

The knife was getting closer, but somehow I had managed to hold onto the door handle. If I could only—I did. I lunged backward, ripped my arm from Larry’s grasp, and propelled myself in a half circle and out the door. It partly closed behind me, but not enough to stop Larry. I heard him yell and knew he was right behind me.

Stockings are not good for running on decks. I slid over it toward the stairs and bolted down them, much too fast. I could hear him behind me, not yelling now, but breathing hard, and I didn’t have to look to know that the knife was slicing through the air. I wanted to scream, but was concentrating too hard on where to run, and how to keep my feet under me. I didn’t dare head for the side of the house that would take me back to my car, not without knowing if Larry could cut me off, so I sprinted toward the pool. If I could make it to the far side, I could at least see where I had to go next. Only it didn’t work out that way. My stockings refused to grip the deck and I found myself sliding into one of the lounges set beside the pool. Sudden pain swept up my leg, and I could feel myself falling, could see the pool deck rising to meet my face. I flung myself a little more to the left, and hit the water with a huge splash.

“Omph,” I think I said as I sank.

I must have swallowed half the pool before I managed to make it back to the surface. Coughing and gagging, trying to see through soggy hair, I started to tread water.

“Oh, Ellen. What a silly thing to do.”

I finally focused, and there was Larry, standing by the pool steps, smiling down at me. The knife was still there, as though it had grown into his hand, both hanging relaxed by his side.

“What are you going to do now? You can’t get out, you know. Not unless I let you. Shall I let you? I might. If you promise to be good. You can help me with Frank, and with the dinner, and you can wear that dress you had on at the winery. I liked that dress. But you mustn’t laugh at me. You won’t, will you?”

I had no idea what to do. I had never felt less like laughing, so that would be an easy promise, but the rest? Somehow I didn’t think Larry had any intention of letting me out of that pool, at least alive. But I couldn’t keep treading water forever, I was already getting tired, and I didn’t know when, or if, someone would get around to attempting a rescue.

“I’m not coming out. The water’s fine. Why don’t you come in?” If he did, maybe I’d have a chance to make the ladder by the diving board.

“You don’t want me to do that. I’m an excellent swimmer. I’m an excellent chef, too. And I have superb taste. I like really fine things. Don’t you think so? So why do people laugh at me?”

An excellent swimmer. Just my luck. I let myself drift toward the diving board anyway. If I could keep him talking, maybe I could get up those stairs before Larry could reach that side of the pool. “Nobody laughs at you. I’ve heard Frank say many times how talented you are.”

“He did?” His expression was eager, like a little kid getting praise for a good report card. “I didn’t know that. He should have told me.” Another lightning change of expression, but now his face was thundercloud dark. “No one ever tells me.”

“Sure they do.” I was getting closer. Another couple of feet and I would be able to grab the ladder. “Everyone knows how talented you are.”

“Otto didn’t. Neither did Carlton. They lied. Both of them. And they laughed at me.”

Keep him talking. Almost there. “How did Carlton lie?”

“He knew Otto never planned on making me a partner. He told me by lending Otto the money I would be half owner of this place. But they never put my name on any of the papers. I told you that. You said you’d help me, but you didn’t. I thought I could trust you.”

“I tried.” My legs were starting to feel like logs, dragging me down, and my arms were protesting the constant movement. I’d better get to that ladder pretty soon, or I’d end up on the bottom of the pool. “I talked to my broker, and he gave me the name of an attorney who specializes in these kinds of things. I’ll give it to you just as soon as I get out of here.” If I get out.

Larry didn’t act as if he’d heard me. He was moving slowly around the pool, following me as I drifted. He was almost at the diving board, now past it, almost to the ladder. “Otto said I was no chef, that I couldn’t cook my way out of a paper bag.” He stood on the side of the pool, watching me struggle. I had to get to the side, and soon, but Larry was waiting. My choices were not looking good.

“He said I was a danger in the kitchen, always knocking the pots over. He laughed at me, and said I had to get out with Jolene. But I had the last laugh. I—no, Ellen. You can’t do that.”

Damn. I was almost there, but as my hand reached out Larry dove in. He hadn’t lied. He was an excellent swimmer. He had me before I could grab the ladder and pushed me down, down. I swallowed more water, felt the chlorine burn my eyes, then managed to get to the surface, but not to get away. The knife was coming closer, and this time there would be no escape.

“You’re a traitor You tried to leave me; you laughed at me. I know you did. You—”

Kerplunk. A loud, hollow kerplunk. Larry stopped talking. His eyes rolled back, his jaw went slack, and he started to sink. His fingers opened, and the knife floated by me. I stared at it, unable to believe what was happening.

“Grab him before he goes under. For God’s sake, Ellen. Hurry up.”

I looked up, and there, kneeling on the diving board, a large cast iron frying pan held in both hands, was Aunt Mary!

“Grab him!” She pointed down at the rapidly sinking Larry and I finally came to. I reached for his hair, which was all I could see, and started to tug him toward the side.

“Help me. He’s heavy.”

“Keep his face up until I get off this blasted board. If I fall in, you’ll have two of us to rescue.”

I watched, fascinated, as she crawled backward, dragging her frying pan. What a shame I didn’t have a camera, I thought. I felt Larry struggle, and all thoughts of Aunt Mary’s behind, inching its way toward a safe haven, fled.

“Hurry up. He’s coming to, and I’ll never hold him.”

“Shove him a little higher,” she said. “There, I’ve got his collar. Once more, nope. Lost him. Shove harder.”

“I’m trying. He’s heavier than he looks.” Or waterlogged. I shoved again.

“Got him,” Aunt Mary said. “He’s on the deck. Oh, oh. He’s coming around.”

“Bang him on the head with that thing again.”

“Ellen McKenzie! I couldn’t.”

“You did once.”

“That was under extreme duress.” She watched Larry stir, then sputter and start to cough.

“There’ll be more duress if he gets that knife back. Watch him. I’m going after it.”

The last thing I wanted to do was get back in that pool. No! The last thing was to let Larry get his hands on the knife. So, I went back down the ladder, swam over to the knife, and got back out in time to see Larry on his hands and knees, Aunt Mary standing over him, the frying pan held over her head, ready for another frontal attack.

“You can put it down now. We’d kind of like to take him in alive.”

Dan. Finally! The deck was alive with police, with a couple of paramedics mixed in. Dan instructed them to look at Larry while he looked at me.

“Seems you two had yourself quite a time.”

“Why are you letting them treat Larry?” I got out between water-spewing coughs. “Frank’s lying in the kitchen, stabbed. He needs someone—something—he might be dead.”

“He’s on his way to an ambulance right now, and so is Jolene,” Dan said. “Let me have that knife.”

I hadn’t realized I was holding the damn thing, and gratefully handed it over to Dan, who immediately handed it off to someone else.

“This is evidence, so bag it,” he told the uniformed officer. “Not that it will do us much good. Ellie, are you all right?”

I had started to shake. Like Jolene. I couldn’t seem to stop. My teeth were chattering, I could see my hands turning blue, my clothes hung on me, wet and clammy, and I could feel my hair dripping down my collar. I felt like crying.

“Get me a blanket,” Dan said to someone, and the next thing I knew, I was wrapped in something warm, there was a towel around my head, and strong arms were holding them both in place. A soft kiss glanced across my cheek, so quickly I almost didn’t recognize it.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the car, and home to a hot bath.”

I was in the passenger seat, Aunt Mary behind the wheel. I felt the blanket being tucked more securely around me before someone closed the door. The heater was on, and blessed warmth blew on my soggy toes.

Dan was at Aunt Mary’s window, still giving instructions, but I tuned them out. The only words I wanted to remember were “hot bath,” maybe accompanied with “hot tea.”

“I’ll be over later,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of questions I need to ask both of you. Like how you two thought you were going to flush out a murderer without getting killed yourselves. Of all the dumb stunts.”

“We saved Jolene,” Aunt Mary told him tartly. My chilled lips cracked a little. We had indeed. And we’d solved the murder, vindicated Sabrina, and we were still alive. Well, sort of.

“You did save Jolene. And, Mary, you did a little more than that. But then, I always knew you were handy with a frying pan.”

Chapter Thirty-three

The claw-foot bathtub had been a refuge and a solace many times during my growing-up years, but never as great as now. Hot water gradually warmed my body, and numbed my mind. I let the steam evaporate everything that had happened. I would soon have to face it all, but right now, it was time out. Finally, I could avoid it no longer. My skin was as wrinkled as an elephant’s, it had turned from blue to red, my tea mug was empty, and my living room was filling up.

Voices, lots of voices, rose up the staircase. One in particular got me out of the tub and into my best-fitting L.L. Bean chinos and my sky blue tee shirt. I ran a comb through my steam-curled hair, added lipstick, and descended the staircase.

“Oh, Ellen.” Sabrina threw herself at me, burying her face in my shoulder, letting tears stain the sleeve of my shirt. “Oh my God. He almost killed you, and it was all my fault. Can you ever forgive me?”

“How do you figure it was your fault?” I managed to say, trying vainly to push her away. Mark pulled at her arm, but she stayed stuck.

“I can’t believe it was Larry,” she said between sobs. “Poor Larry, I never dreamed it was him. And to think I let him—”

“Let him do what?” Aunt Mary said. “Sabrina, let Ellen go. She survived Larry’s knife, but she might not your guilt. Here, go sit down beside Mark. Have some wine.”

Free of Sabrina’s embrace, I looked around the room. Mark sat on one of my matching sofas; Aunt Mary was in the large reading chair. Sabrina perched on the arm of the sofa, as close to Mark as she could get. She wiped her eyes with a tissue, then picked up a full wineglass off the coffee table and took a sip. Mark reached over and patted her leg. She wiped away another tear and smiled down at him. Dan stood in the doorway of the living room, leaning against the jamb, also sipping, much to my surprise, a glass of white wine.

“Hi,” he said to me. “You look a little better than you did a while ago.”

“Thanks.” I looked at him, at the expression on his face, but couldn’t read it. Aunt Mary handed me a glass of wine, and I took it, then went to the other sofa and sat on one side. Lots of room for someone else, but no one sat beside me.

“Dan wanted to know why we went over to the bed and breakfast this afternoon,” Aunt Mary said. She sounded a little hesitant and kept giving Dan small glances.

“What did you tell him?” I asked, trying not to do the same.

“Nothing yet.”

“Maybe you’d like to tell me.” He didn’t sound mad, he sounded…how? Unhappy. That made two of us. I deliberately didn’t look at him, choosing instead to twirl the wine in my glass.

“Well, everything seemed to point to Sabrina, but we knew she was innocent, and we—I—thought we had to do something. So I started talking to people. I started with Lighthouse Winery.” I glanced over at Mark and Sabrina to see how they were taking this breach of family trust, but they seemed just fine with it. “Someone there told me about some kind of fight and lawsuit. I was afraid that made Sabrina seem even more guilty. So…”

“You found all that out and didn’t think to tell me?” Dan asked. He sounded weary.

“I—well—Oh, damn it. I wanted to, but was trying to think of some way to make it seem less like a motive.” I sounded weary, also.

“That’s a material fact.” His face was expressionless, but his grasp on his wineglass was a little too tight. “Not telling me could be construed as obstruction of justice. That, in case you didn’t think about it, is a crime.”

“Really, Dan,” Aunt Mary said. “She would have told you. Eventually. Besides, you already knew.”

Dan didn’t look at either of us. He shifted his weight and leaned his other shoulder against the wall. I knew that move. His back hurt. “Okay, I’ll let that go. For now. But what’s all this about the waiters?”

“I kept thinking someone besides Carlton had to have seen whoever went out on that deck. The most logical person would be one of the waiters. They were everywhere. It was Thomas, Mary Ellen Wilson’s son, who told me what I needed. It wasn’t who he saw, but who he didn’t.”

“What?” Dan pushed away from the doorjamb to stare at me. “Who didn’t Thomas see?”

“Larry. He was gone, out of the kitchen, for quite a little time. That’s why the main course was late getting out. The waiters were furious because he was supposed to be overseeing everything. Larry had already sent Otto away, telling him Frank wanted to see him on the deck. Not long after that, he left. Only he told me, over and over, that he had not left the kitchen at all.

“I remembered the catwalk and figured out how he did it. He sent Otto out on the deck, walked around the cellar on the catwalk, and went through the little door onto the platform the tank sits on. From there it was easy to go up the ladder onto the deck. I think they argued. Larry said Otto laughed at him, and we know the rest. He went back to the kitchen the same way. No one on the cellar floor would have seen him. He probably hid the bottle in the kitchen somewhere, retrieved it when he came back for his pots, and that’s when he took the other knife. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“As it turns out,” Dan said. “But why didn’t you come to me?”

That was the hard one. “I didn’t think I had enough evidence. It still could have been Jolene. So, I thought I’d ask Larry if Frank had indeed sent a message to Otto, and if so, when. That way, I’d get his side of the story, and he wouldn’t know I suspected him. Then I was going to come to you.” My sentence sort of faded away at the end. It had made so much sense when I had made Aunt Mary come with me. It made none now I was retelling it.

Dan sighed and walked over to the bookcase where Jake was lying on his regular perch, the third bookshelf up, draped nonchalantly over the works of Charles Dickens. Dan scratched him behind the ears. The cat purred.

“Jake,” he said. “You’re the only one in this bunch with a lick of sense. Including, for the first time in recorded history, Mrs. Mary McGill.”

He turned to face all of us. “First, I was pretty sure Sabrina hadn’t killed either Otto or Carlton. However, when you find someone standing over a corpse with a knife, you do usually have to ask a few questions.”

Sabrina gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. “Then why…?”

“Why what?” Dan asked. “I asked you questions, but I didn’t arrest you. That should have told you something. And when Catherine called me—oh yes, she called me—I told her, when I finally could get in a sentence, that I didn’t think you had done it.” He looked thoughtful. “That was an interesting conversation. Where was I? Oh yes. Sabrina, how tall are you?”

Sabrina and Mark looked at him as if he’d suddenly gone crazy. Aunt Mary and I looked at each other.

“Stab wounds,” she said. She either watched CSI or had been reading up on pathology.

“She’s about five foot two,” I said. “Wrong angle?”

“She’d have needed about another foot to be Carlton’s killer. Of course, Mark could have done it and let us suspect Sabrina. But somehow, I didn’t think so.” He said this rather hurriedly. Mark’s face had started to get stormy. “And then, we had another small lead.”

“What?” I asked, wondering what I had missed that Dan had found.

“Larry’s car was parked in back of Carlton’s office for at least a half hour before Sabrina arrived. We do ask about things like that, and it took almost no time to find someone who noticed it.”

It wasn’t something I’d missed. “Why didn’t you talk to the waiters?” I asked. “Thomas and those other kids had the missing piece all along.”

“We did, we did. We talked to them Saturday night, and the next day, and then several days later when we were putting everything together. No one mentioned the fact that Larry had left the kitchen. Unfortunately, I don’t know if that was asked. But I plan to find out.” His face looked grim. I felt sorry for whoever had failed to include that question. “However, we were beginning to take a good look at Larry. The car thing clinched it.”

“Then why didn’t you arrest him?”

“We were getting the warrant while you were swimming in the pool.” His voice and face were still expressionless.

“So, all my detective work was for nothing?” I felt cheated somehow. After all, I had discovered that Larry was our murderer and why.

“Except for the fact you almost got yourself killed, you helped a lot,” Dan said. He didn’t sound as if he were happy about his admission. But it made me feel better.

“How?” I asked.

“The bottle and the knife.” This was costing Dan something. I hoped I didn’t end up paying for it as well. “After Sabrina called us about the bottle, we started asking her about who had access to the cartons. You were way ahead of us there. You and the Boy Scouts. And I hadn’t connected the knife to the winery, but you pointed us in the right direction there, too. By that time, we were pretty sure Larry was our boy, but we weren’t sure why. Motive does matter, especially to a jury. We were digging away at his relationship with Otto when we got that nine one one call from Mary. Between what she told us and what Larry is spilling, we have more than enough to go for murder one. Only, he’ll probably spend the rest of his life in a mental hospital.” He looked around at all of us. “So, Mary, next time you and Ellen think you’ve solved a murder, how about coming to me first. And, Sabrina, next time you find a corpse, if the cops don’t arrest you right away, believe that they have other possibilities they’re considering.”

“She does have a tendency to get carried away,” Mark started. He let the last of his sentence fade as the full blast of Sabrina’s gaze rested on him. She wasn’t her mother’s daughter for nothing.

“As for you,” Dan went on, looking for the first time directly at me, “you knew someone was a murderer. Didn’t it occur to you that one murder could lead to another? That the next victim could be you? Why didn’t you talk to me before you went off tilting at windmills?”

“Talking isn’t something we’ve done a lot of lately.” I wondered if those words sounded as mournful to Dan as they did to me.

The front door opened with a bang. There stood Frank, his left arm in a sling, his face pale. He stood for a moment, leaning his right arm against the doorjamb, beaming at all of us.

“I’m here and I’m alive,” he announced.

And milking the moment for all it’s worth, I thought uncharitably. The man’s timing was uncanny. Why did he arrive now? Just when Dan was going to say something? Maybe something I wanted to hear? A vision of Frank getting us out of the kitchen, of Frank lying on the floor, bleeding, immediately came to mind and smote me with guilt.

“Frank,” I exclaimed with the others. We all scrambled to our feet, but Mark got to his father first.

“Here, Dad, sit here.” He guided Frank to the sofa where he and Sabrina had been sitting, grabbed a clean wineglass, filled it, and handed it to his father.

“My goodness, Frank,” Aunt Mary said, starting to bustle around. That didn’t last long. Frank reached out his good hand and pulled her down beside him. He winced and let out a little gasp.

“Oh my God, Frank,” Aunt Mary exclaimed. “Why did they let you out of the hospital?”

“I’m sore but fine, Mary, just fine. I didn’t even need a transfusion.”

“That’s good news,” said Sabrina. She looked at her father-in-law with her usual distaste, but it seemed mixed with compassion. Or something. “How about Jolene? Where is she?”

“Jolene has moved to the Santa Louisa Inn. They have hot tubs, and last I heard Jolene was planning on climbing in one.” He readjusted himself and let his good arm slide behind Aunt Mary. She didn’t move away.

“I’ll bet she takes a full glass of wine with her,” laughed Mark.

“How about the whole bottle,” Sabrina said. This time, the look of distaste wasn’t tempered with anything.

Frank looked at her with extreme sadness. “I wish I didn’t think you were right. You know, Jolene and I used to be—friends. Years ago. She’s—gone downhill. I gave her the name of a place she could go where she could get some help, but she laughed.” He squeezed Aunt Mary again and smiled down at her. “Well, I tried.”

So that was what was going on at the Yum Yum. My, my. Frank did indeed have hidden depths.

Dan had left the bookcases, and Jake and I had settled into the big chair that Aunt Mary had forsaken for her place beside Frank. I looked directly at him and asked, “What happens to Larry now?”

I hoped he’d realize I wanted to know because Larry had almost killed me, because I knew Larry was sick. Only this wasn’t about Larry and what I had done right or what I had done wrong in connection with him, and Dan and I both knew it.

“Larry’s been transported to the county jail. They have lockdown facilities for violent prisoners and our Larry qualifies, big time.” I might not have been in the room. He addressed his remarks to everyone else.

“Poor Larry,” I said.

“Poor Larry!” Sabrina exclaimed. “He killed two people and was going to let me take the blame!”

“I know, but Otto and Carlton not only cheated him, they laughed at him. He’d had too much of that in his life, and they were his straw.”

“Straw?” Frank asked.

“As in camel,” Aunt Mary explained. “How do you know about all that?” she asked me.

“He said so. Right before he started chasing me up the stairs.”

“Why did he push Jolene in the freezer?” Sabrina asked. “She didn’t know anything, did she?”