ILL-TIMED ENTANGLEMENTS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #2) (24 page)

Lindstrom looked surprised. “Elizabeth Franklin is a whiz on the computer?”

Realizing he thought Skip meant Aunt Betty, Liz raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “This Elizabeth Franklin,” she said with a grin.

Lindstrom frowned, struggling with an internal conflict between instinctive cop territorialism and the reality that his resources were spread way too thin. He only had seven investigators in the Violent Crime Unit he headed, including himself. Hell of a time for him to end up with two high profile cases, when two of his people were on vacation and three others were involved in an undercover operation.

The detective looked around the room, settling on Kate’s determined face. He wasn’t real sure he could make them leave it alone anyway, short of arresting them for obstruction of justice. And Franklin had a point. If he wasn’t going to let the man take his aunt to Maryland, where she would be safe, how could he insist they just sit around and wait for something to break in the case?

Lindstrom’s cell phone rang. He said a few cryptic “yeah’s” into it as he closed the distance to the door. “Just be careful,” he threw back over his shoulder at them as he left.

Rob walked over to lock the door behind him.

“I don’t know about square one,” Skip said. “But we do need to question our prime suspects regarding their association with Jeffrey Morgan, and with a few of them, we still need to pin down if they would indeed have access to chloroform.”

“I think we need to speed things up here,” Rose said. “Before somebody else gets killed. Could be the perp’s starting to enjoy his work. How about we split up? Skip, Mac and I, the
trained investigators
in the room.” She flashed a grin in Skip’s direction. “We each take some of the names of those who need to be questioned.”

“And Kate and I will pair up,” Rob said.

“Pooling your keen observational and analytical skills,” Mac said, grinning at him.

Rob faked a smile back. He turned to Skip. Working hard to make his voice sound sincere, he said, “Thanks for saving me from pushing Lindstrom too hard.”

“No problem.”

“Do you think it’s safe to leave Liz and Betty here by themselves?” Kate asked.

“With the new lock, I think I can handle guard duty during the day,” Liz said.

Rob leaned forward in his chair. Just in case his aunt wasn’t actually asleep in the next room, he kept his voice low. “I’m concerned that we may never find the killer now that residents are starting to move out. I’m going to talk to Lindstrom again and press him to let us take Aunt Betty back to Maryland.”

“What if he refuses to let her leave?” Liz asked.

“Don’t leave the area is really a request, even though it may be said as an order,” Skip pointed out. “The police don’t have the authority to force you to stay put, unless you’ve been arrested and are out on bail.”

“That’s my concern,” Rob said. “I don’t want to get Aunt Betty arrested, which is what I think would happen if we just packed her up and left.

“And I’m not one hundred percent sure the police don’t have the authority, in Pennsylvania, to order suspects to stay put. It tends to be a bit more of a law-and-order type state than Maryland, so they might just have such a statute on the books. I’ve got my staff researching that for me.”

“In the meantime,” Skip said grimly, “we keep looking for a killer. If we get lucky today, you won’t have to uproot Betty from her home.”

•   •   •

Unfortunately they weren’t able to begin their new round of interviews until the police and crime scene investigators were finally finished in the atrium, and allowed the building to return to relative normalcy.

Rob rang Dr. Baxter’s doorbell for the second time, hiding his impatience behind his court face in case she was checking him out through the peephole.

Kate leaned toward the door. “Thought I heard something. I’ll bet she’s in there, but doesn’t want to talk to us again.”

Rob nodded and hit the bell a third time, more to express his irritation than out of any expectation of a response.

As Rob and Kate walked out of the building to track down the next person on their list, they saw a moving van pulled up in front of Betty’s building next door. Beside it, a quite agitated Mrs. Carroll was trying to talk to an elderly man who was ignoring her completely. When she saw Rob and Kate she broke off her attempts and raced in their direction.

“You have to leave. I won’t have you continuing to bother my residents.” Her voice was slightly slurred and Rob thought he smelled alcohol on her breath.

“Mrs. Carroll, there was another murder this morning,” Kate said, exasperation in her voice. “People are moving out because they’re afraid they will be next. It has nothing to do with us.”

“But you’re making things worse by reminding people.” Her voice rose on an hysterical note. “If you don’t leave, I’ll find a way to make you.” Mrs. Carroll turned and stomped away.

Kate exchanged a look with Rob, and they turned back toward Betty’s building.

They both jumped a little. A slender man was standing right behind them. He took off his Phillies cap to reveal an egg-shaped, totally bald head that was a slightly lighter shade of red than his ruddy face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said. “I’m Paul Johnson. Live over there.” He gestured with his hat toward the building they had just exited.

“I heard you folks were looking into the murders. I’d like to help if I can. Jeff Morgan was a friend of mine.” He returned his baseball cap to his head. “Would you like to go inside? Get out of the heat.”

He led the way, ushering them into his apartment. It was beautifully decorated with rich mahogany furniture and wing-backed chairs. The artwork on the walls looked like originals.

Johnson noticed Kate admiring the furnishings. “My partner was an antiques dealer. He passed away three years ago.”

Paul Johnson apparently
was
out of the closet.

After a few minutes of chit-chat about antiques, Kate let Rob take the lead while she observed. As the interview progressed, she had a growing sense of unease. Something about this man was nagging at her.

Again, Jeff was described as a kind, gentle man. Whenever Rob paused for breath, Johnson asked questions about the progress of the investigation, which Rob expertly dodged.

When he seemed to be running out of questions that might elicit more information, Kate asked, “Mr. Johnson, is there much of a gay community here at The Villages?”

After a slight pause, Johnson said, “No. My partner and I were the only openly gay people here.”

“Was Jeff gay?” Kate asked gently.

Johnson let out a small chuckle as he shook his head. “No, what brought us together as friends was loneliness, not shared sexual orientation. Jeff was a widower. He reached out to me when Tim died. He was the only one who did, really. Nobody was rude or anything, and most folks offered their condolences when they saw me. But Jeff made a point of befriending me.”

“Do you know if anyone else in the community is gay?” Kate asked.

“If they are, they’re still in the closet. Why do you ask?”

Kate shrugged. “No particular reason. Just exploring all angles.”

“Is there some reason to think the murderer is gay?” Johnson asked.

No, but one of the suspects might be, and might be worried about being outed.”

“Who is that?”

Kate was not about to give this man any concrete information. “I’d rather not say.”

Johnson chuckled. “I’m hardly going to hold being gay against someone, Mrs. Huntington.”

“Still, it’s really just speculation on our part, so I’m not comfortable naming names.”

Rob quickly thanked the man for his time, and they made their exit.

Once outside on the sidewalk, Rob asked, “So what’d you think of that?”

“I think that for someone who claimed to be his friend, Mr. Johnson did not know Jeff Morgan very well.”

Rob nodded his agreement. “That was my take. But the guy sure was nosey about the investigation.”

Walking through the atrium of Betty’s building, Kate was thinking this might be a good time to have that talk with Rob. She was bracing herself to suggest that they sit down when Rob said, “Kate, I owe you an…”

Both of their good intentions were thwarted when they spotted Detective Lindstrom heading their way.

Rob waved him over. “If you have a minute, Detective, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

The three of them sat down at the wrought iron table. “We have a rather untenable situation here,” Rob began. “The residents are starting to move out and the killer could have been among them…”

“I’ve told everyone that if they leave the area, they have to give me a way to contact them,” Lindstrom interrupted.

“Yes, but you’ve told my aunt that she
can’t
leave the area,” Rob continued in his best negotiating voice. “Since there have been attempts on her life, we can’t leave her here by herself. The investigation could drag on for quite awhile, and we all have jobs and other commitments we need to get back to.”

“And it is possible, Sandy,” Kate added gently. “That the killer is someone none of us has thought to suspect yet, and they’ve moved out and lied to you about where they were going.”

“Which means, heaven forbid, this case may never be solved,” Rob said. “Maryland and Pennsylvania have a reciprocity agreement…”

“Mr. Franklin,” Lindstrom interrupted again. “I understand your concerns but I can’t let your aunt leave the state.”

Rob opened his mouth to protest the absurdity of that stance but Kate put a restraining hand on his arm. “Sandy,” she said to the detective, “we’re not just concerned about Betty being attacked again, but also about her stress level. And you don’t really have any concrete evidence against her.”

Lindstrom gave her a hard look as she lifted her hand from Rob’s arm to swipe an errant curl out of her face.

“Depends on your definition of concrete,” he said in a sharp voice. “There are a few too many coincidences here. First, Mrs. Franklin happened to have a major dispute with Doris Blackwell the day before she’s murdered. Second, her hair and fingerprints are in Blackwell’s apartment.”

The detective was ticking off the points on his fingers. “Third, she used a similar scene to the Blackwell murder in her latest novel. Fourth, Frieda McIntosh was gossiping about that
coincidence
the day before she was murdered. Fifth, Mrs. Franklin happens to have Mrs. McIntosh’s missing necklace in her possession.”

“But there are logical explanations for those things, Sandy,” Kate said in a conciliatory tone. This man’s shift in attitude had her worried. The other day he had practically admitted that he didn’t believe Betty was capable of murder.

“And my aunt has absolutely no motive for harming Jeff Morgan
and
she has a solid alibi for when he was killed,” Rob was saying.

Lindstrom brusquely asked, “What are the sleeping arrangements at the motel?”

“We have a suite with a second adjoining bedroom,” Kate said. “Rob and Liz are in that room, Betty and I are sharing the bedroom of the suite and Skip Canfield is sleeping in the living room, between us and the door. There’s no way Betty could have left the other night without waking us up. Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t drive anymore.”

“We do have cabs in Lancaster,” Lindstrom said.

“There’s no way she could have gotten out of the suite,” Kate repeated. “Not without waking Skip up. I know for a fact that he’s a very light sleeper.” Too late, she realized that was perhaps the wrong thing to say, as two sets of eyes glared at her.

“And how
exactly
do you know that, Kate?” Lindstrom asked.

Kate sighed. “Sandy, my husband did not die of natural causes. He was murdered.” The detective’s face registered shock. “And for several weeks after his murder, the killer was stalking Rob and me. Skip was hired by Rob as my bodyguard.

“That’s how we all first met him,” she quickly added, remembering that she had introduced Skip to the detective as a family friend.

“I personally witnessed him come up out of a sound sleep with gun in hand. He was in the recliner in your family room, Rob… When he heard my father
whispering
across the room. Ask Liz. She was there, too.”

Rob looked at Kate. She acknowledged the apology in his eyes with a small smile.

Lindstrom watched the nonverbal exchange, then said in a clipped voice, “I’ll still need to talk to Canfield myself. Have him call me.”

At that moment, Rob’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me, Detective,” he said and answered the call.

“Where are you?” Liz frantically asked.

Rob jumped up. “I’ll be right back,” he said, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice. He took several long strides away from the table.

Lindstrom turned to Kate. “Exactly what is your relationship with Franklin, Kate?”

Kate bristled, but she caught herself before she blurted out that her relationships were none of his business. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Rob and Liz were my
husband’s
and my closest friends, and they still are my closest friends. I would not have survived losing him without their support.”

Lindstrom’s angry expression collapsed into chagrin. “I’m sorry, Kate. I was out of line.”

Kate decided to press her advantage, while Rob was out of earshot. “Sandy, you can’t possibly believe that Betty Franklin could wrestle with a man and pitch him over that railing. And what about the person who broke into her apartment the other night, while she was back at the motel with us?”

Lindstrom shook his head, his look once again apologetic. “I told you, Kate, I have to explore every angle. I truly wish I could let Mrs. Franklin go with you, but you can’t imagine the pressure I’m getting from above. The press is turning ugly on us, the mayor is calling the…”

Rob was suddenly at Kate’s side, grasping her upper arm and practically yanking her out of her seat. “We’ve gotta go. We’ll have Canfield call you, Detective.”

He race-walked her across the atrium. “What’s the matter?” Kate hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.