Gourdfellas (34 page)

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Authors: Maggie Bruce

BOOK: Gourdfellas
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“But why hide the gun in your house? Why not destroy it or take it somewhere far away? If he was smart enough to come up with this scheme, then surely he would have planned out how to get rid of the murder weapon?”
“Plans get interrupted.”
Everyone looked at Karen.
“What?” She swiveled the silver ring on her index finger. “A car was coming or something and he panicked and ran. Saw Lili’s house, saw that no one was home and hid the rifle. Isn’t that what happened?”
I nodded my confirmation.
“At least we had that part right.” Nora laughed. “And like we’ve been saying for a while, once that happened, he started to do as much as he could think of to make it look like Lili was the killer.”
“B.H. says Trent’s printer is the one that produced that note that was found in Wonderland Toy Town. And he put that address book under my stove the day before he planted the note, hoping the police would do another thorough search of the house. So yes, he was a man on a mission.”
Stretching her long legs, Elizabeth made elaborate yawning motions. “Oh dear, I didn’t come here to sit through this rerun. What about our so-called game? As I recall, this is poker night.”
This rerun, as she called it, had been playing in my mind for days. Hovanian’s visit the day after Trent was arrested had been full of interesting details about the case. But most of my mental replay centered around the sizzle of one electric kiss that stopped conversation for what felt like five minutes. I’d pulled away first and had sublimated all my confusion into questions about what would happen next.
Obligingly, B.H. had filled in many of the missing pieces, but no matter how I played it back, I couldn’t understand how Joseph Trent had managed to cross the line from healer to murderer. Even before he shot Marjorie, that was what the man had been doing. Deciding who should live, who didn’t deserve the chance that the drugs might produce a miracle, however temporary.
I was startled out of my reflections by a card sliding across the table toward me. Karen was dealing, Susan sitting out the hand. Everyone watched until I picked up my little packet. Then they picked up theirs, each doing the elaborate fan-and-shuffle that would help them play better . . . or fool the rest of us more completely.
Five card stud—what my brother would call real poker—brought out the serious actor in my friends. Which made it harder to read their faces. My strategy for the past several poker nights had been to ignore everyone else and concentrate on my own hand, and my face. Now I wanted to show them consternation. What should I do? Hold ’em or fold ’em?
King of diamonds, king of spades. I looked at two more cards. Queen of clubs, queen of spades. My heart banged wildly as I spread the final card.
King of hearts. A full house.
No question that I was holding ’em this time. But how to bet? Now that became the real dilemma. I didn’t want to scare the others out of the pot, which I’d surely do if I didn’t exchange any cards and also bet fifty cents. Enough to buy the book on African art that Berge had suggested might interest me—that was my goal for tonight.
“So, what did Seth say when you told him?” Nora smiled and everyone else looked up from their hands and focused on me.
“Told him?” I repeated, stalling for time. “Told him what?”
Wrong maneuver. Now I had everyone’s undivided attention.
“That he was no longer . . .” Melissa laughed and reached into the bowl for a handful of peanuts. “. . . on your list of suspects.”
Susan’s eyes flashed. “Or is it that he’s no longer on your list?”
“Wait!” Elizabeth held her hand up, palm out. Her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Don’t answer yet. I heard from our esteemed mayor that Tom Ford has some ideas about how to grow Walden Corners now that the referendum is over. The casino’s not happening but we still need to figure out how to keep the town going. Patronski says that Tom’s coming to town to share some ideas. Maybe get involved in a big way. And maybe, just maybe, there’s more to his return than a desire to sustain growth. Well, the growth of the town, anyway. He might be interested in cultivating other things. So, just how long is your list, Lili, my dear?”
My poker face failed me. Tom Ford, back in town? In the flesh? What kind of flesh he inhabited had been such a part of my mental meanderings for so long that the thought of finding out started an internal war. Our connection had been so odd that I’d let him become A Possibility, and now I was caught between conflicting desires. I yearned to know what he looked like. But while the reality might satisfy or it might disappoint, it would surely wipe out the tantalizing fantasies.
And then what would happen to the forward march of my attraction to Berge Hartounian Hovanian?
By the second round, Nora, Elizabeth, and Melissa had folded. Susan stood behind me, then moved to the same position behind Karen’s chair, her face revealing nothing.
“Well, let’s play poker here,” I said, donning my innocent smile. “I’m going to raise fifty cents.”
Karen nodded and frowned. “Showdown. But not until I raise you a quarter.”
Maybe she had a royal flush, but I wasn’t giving up now. We both pushed our chips to the nice little pile in the center of the table.
Win or lose, the idea that I had options was intriguing. I might not be in control of the outcome, but I certainly wouldn’t be bored. I was holding three kings, and that was bound to play out in some very interesting ways.

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