Steeled for Murder (28 page)

“Stay out of trouble,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay out of Detective Belkins’ way.”

“I’ll try, sir.” I didn’t need to be told that twice.

Chapter 16

I had plenty of time to stop by the library. I needed something I could immerse myself in without having to think. Nothing too heavy. Mandy was at the desk, but she was busy with other people. Gustavus leaned against the wall next to the magazine racks. I wondered how much time he spent at the library. Not really my concern. It was a public place, and it was warm.

I went into the stacks and found a few promising books. I didn’t have to be as careful about the time or when they would be due; the new schedule would let me make it to the library almost whenever I felt like it. I could afford to start a book and decide I didn’t want to finish it.

I brought my selections up to check out. Mandy smiled at me. I smiled back.

She took the books and glanced around behind her. Leaning over the counter and keeping her voice low, she said, “I want to talk to you. Is that okay?”

I was surprised. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

She shook her head. “Not now. I get out for lunch soon. Can you wait?”

“I guess.”

“Meet me on the front steps in ten minutes.” She put the books in a plastic bag and handed it to me. Then she turned to the paperwork on the desk.

Mystified, I went outside to wait for her.

A few minutes later, Mandy came down the front steps. She was wearing a long, stylish coat and warm boots. She had leather gloves and a big purse with some kind of abstract design on it. A scarf of something that looked like cashmere to my unschooled eyes was wrapped around her neck. She wasn’t particularly pretty, but the expression “well turned out” sprang to mind.

Gustavus followed her out the door. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. I reflected that everybody but me had cell phones these days. Even homeless bums who had nothing better to do than hang out in the library.

As Mandy came up to me, she took my arm. In my work boots and hooded jacket, I was very conscious of the contrast in our appearances. If she noticed, she didn’t mention it.

I caught a whiff of expensive perfume. I’d taken a shower, so maybe I smelled okay despite having worked up a nervous sweat during Montgomery’s questioning.

“It’s my lunch hour,” Mandy said. “Let’s get something to eat.” She started off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction from McDonald’s and the diner.

“Okay. But—” I started to say, halting.

“My treat.”

We went to a trendy little café next to the courthouse. The menu was posted on a board out front. Without any prices. Through the window, I could see tiny round tables and ferns hanging from the ceiling. Mandy opened the door and threaded her way past vacant tables to the last in a row of booths along the wall in the back.

In my bulky jacket, I felt like I took up too much room. I followed her slim form to the booth and slid into the seat opposite her.

A waitress came up. She had spiky hair and long, purple fingernails.

“I don’t know—” I started to say.

“We’ll have two of the soup and sandwich specials,” Mandy told her. “I’ll have unsweetened iced tea. What would you like to drink?” She turned toward me.

“Coffee?” I said. I glanced around, wondering what the special would be. Another copy of the menu was written on a whiteboard on the wall. A choice of cream of squash or watercress soup. Cream of squash sounded bad enough. What the hell was watercress? With feta cheese and arugula on coarse-ground, seven grain bread. I had to assume that was something edible.

“Which soup would you like?” the waitress asked. “The cream of squash is especially filling in this weather.”

“We’ll take that.”

Mandy was paying, she got to choose, I reminded myself. I was hungry. For sure I’d eaten far worse than whatever they were going to serve up here. “Filling in this weather” sounded promising, even if it was squash.

The waitress nodded and hurried away.

“I’d like your opinion on something.” Mandy’s gaunt hands fiddled with the large pendant hanging from a woven silver chain encircling her neck.

“My opinion?” I couldn’t imagine what good she thought that would be.

She shifted uncomfortably. “You know who my husband is?” she asked.

“Sterling Radman. Plant manager at Quality Steel. My boss a couple of levels removed.” My turn to be uncomfortable as reality sunk in. What in heaven’s name was I doing sitting across from Sterling Radman’s wife in a ritzy restaurant, right in the middle of the county building complex? A stone’s throw from the police station and the parole office and the local lockup.

I was far more at home in those places than this fancy café.

Mandy nodded. “We’ve been married for three years now. We met shortly after he moved here to take over operations at Quality Steel.”

I started to say he must have been a good catch but realized just in time how offensive that would sound.

She seemed to have read my mind anyhow.

“Yeah. I was getting a little old. Most of the girls around here marry their high school sweethearts. While I was away at college, mine moved to San Francisco and met the love of his life. Another man.”

“Just as well,” I said. “Would have made for a disastrous marriage.” Why was she telling me this? None of my business.

“I suppose you’re right. But it hurt.” Mandy blinked rapidly.

“I imagine it did.”
Don’t cry on me,
I thought.
I’m no good at that.

“My parents were killed in a traffic accident when I was twenty,” she continued. “Brakes failed on an overloaded mine truck when they were coming back from my grandmother’s funeral in West Virginia. I’m an only child. No family left. I’d driven separately so I could go right back to college. Sometimes I wish I’d been in the car with them.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Her eyes glistened. “I got a big settlement from the mining company. And of course I inherited the house and everything. So I came back and went to work in the library.”

“At least you didn’t have money problems,” I said awkwardly.

She gave me a withering look. “That has been the least of my worries.”

Never been the least of my worries. But I could see where I must have sounded heartless.

The waitress placed lunch on the table. “Two cream of squash soups with grilled panini.”

I inhaled the steam rising off the soup. Wonderful aroma. I spooned some into my mouth. Smooth and rich and creamy. It might be squash, but I’d never tasted anything so good.

Mandy nibbled at her sandwich. “When Sterling arrived in town, he joined the country club. My family has always belonged, so of course I was a member.”

Of course. I looked at the sandwich. Green, plant-looking stuff peeked out from under the flat grilled bread. I took a bite. Sure enough, some kind of tangy cheese. The green stuff must be arugula. It was actually quite tasty.

“I met him there. He was so nice. Swept me off my feet. We got married almost right away.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale.” I stirred my soup.

“Doesn’t it?” Mandy wiped her mouth with the napkin. “Did you know that all the original fairy tales had bad endings? A few people told me I was being too hasty. They were right.”

“Not a good marriage?” I asked.

“I don’t think he loves me.” A tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. “He’s never home. Sometimes I think he might be using drugs. He never lets me in on how he spends money, even though most of it’s mine. And lately, he’s been being mean to me.”

I remembered the bruises on her neck. “Does he hurt you?”

She nodded. Her hand strayed to her neck. “Sometimes.”

“File for divorce.”

“I’ve thought about it. But he had me sign over power of attorney.”

I looked up at her in alarm. “You shouldn’t have done that. You need to talk to a lawyer. Get that rescinded. Right away.”

“He always knows what I’m doing. It’s like he’s psychic or something.”

“How can that be if he’s always off doing his own thing?”

Mandy looked around furtively. “I run into Gustavus all over. I think Sterling’s paying him to spy on me.”

“That’s no way to live.” Even I knew that. And Gustavus had seen us leave together.

“You’re right.” She sighed. “He’s trying to get a mortgage on the house.”

“On the house you inherited from your parents?”

Mandy nodded.

“I don’t know that much about marriage law or real estate law, but you have to get a lawyer. Now.”

She ignored that and went on. “I found some things. In the back of his closet.”

“What kinds of things?” I envisioned drug paraphernalia. Or love letters from another woman. Or pornography.

“Cash. Lots of it.”

“Lot of people keep their money in cash these days,” I said. Not me, of course. “Hard to trust investments or anything right now.”

She gave me a withering look. “But they put it in insured money market accounts. Or at least safe deposit boxes. Not bundles of cash in the closet.”

Couldn’t tell that by me. “Lot of people are worried about banks failing.”

“I found other things, too.”

“What else?” Cash—even a lot of cash—didn’t seem to be something to really worry about.

She looked down at the table. “Passports. In other names. Drivers licenses. Birth certificates.”

I thought about Reggie’s new identification. “Did you know the people in the pictures?”

“Not in some of them. But some had Sterling’s picture.”

“With another name?”

“With two other names.” She wiped her eyes with her napkin.

Worrisome. “What do you think he plans to do with them?”

“Take off and leave me. After he gets the mortgage on the house. And drains all the other accounts.”

“You really do need to talk to a lawyer. Now. You got a cell phone? Make an appointment with the lawyer who handled your parents’ will.”

Tears were rolling down her cheeks in earnest now. “I’ll think about it. But first, I wanted to ask you if you would do something for me.”

My soup was gone. Mandy wasn’t touching hers. What a waste. “Don’t see what I can do to help you,” I said.

Mandy lowered her head and looked at the table. “I want you to kill him for me.”

I sat in shock. “Kill him?” I whispered.

“Yes.” Her face went fierce. “If you don’t want to do it yourself, find me someone who will. I can pay. I can pay a lot. A hundred thousand dollars. Is that enough?”

“Mandy, that’s not something I can do.” The coffee in my cup had cooled. “That’s not something you should ask anybody to do.”

She seemed to be pretty good at ignoring things she didn’t want to know about. She didn’t pay any attention whatsoever to what I said. “You’re a murderer, aren’t you? I’d think it’d get easier after the first time. And we could set it up so no one suspected you.”

“They’ll suspect me, all right.” I stared at the tabletop. “But you know, I never really killed anybody. I’m not about to start now.”

“You were convicted of murder, weren’t you? There must have been something behind that.” Her voice was fierce. “I can get more money if that’s not enough.”

“Mandy. There have to be other ways to deal with your problems. We’d both go to prison. For years. Maybe for the rest of our lives.”

“It’d be worth taking the chance.” Her voice was rising. Her hands were clenched white in front of her.

“No, it wouldn’t be. I know what I’m talking about. And this is not the time or the place to be talking about this.” I slid out of the booth and reached for my wallet. Had to get out of here fast, even if it took most of my money.

Mandy opened her purse and put a twenty-dollar bill on the table. She thought a second and added a ten to it. “Ought to take care of it. And the tip.” She slid out of her seat.

Standing, she adjusted her well-tailored coat and fluffed her scarf around her neck.

I grabbed the plastic bag with the library books and shoved my wallet back into my pocket.

I glanced at the booth adjacent to the one we had occupied. It had been vacant when we’d sat down.

It wasn’t vacant now. A slender black lady with an elegant upswept hairdo sat sipping a glass of iced tea.

I glanced across the table at her companion.

Montgomery.

My mind froze. How much had he overheard?

His eyes met mine. He winked and gave me a thumbs up. He mouthed something at me. It looked like “Gotcha.”

I walked Mandy back to the library.

“Just think about my proposal,” she said. “A hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. Get back to me.”

“There’s not enough money in the world,” I said.

“Everybody’s got their price. Let me know what yours is.”