The Begonia Bribe (10 page)

Jake approached and Cam looked to him. “There was a whiskey bottle in Telly Stevens’s office that was half oleander, according to the medical examiner. It was either murder or suicide, and nothing I’ve heard today leads me to believe the man had enough depth of feeling for suicide. So thank you for being so observant, Cam. We will have to go through the log of gifts, but chances are this bottle was sent anonymously.”

Lauren looked over at them in alarm. Cam tried to give a warning look, but Jake was done and seemed not to be paying attention. He had turned back to his pizza choices.

When the girls had finished, Rob drove them and their mom back to the Travelodge and Cam pounced on Jake.

“Please keep murder speculation to a minimum this week.”

“Cam, poison is usually murder. Besides, Rob’s been shadowing me on this anyway, so I know you will hear everything he does.”

“So, who are you looking at? At least nobody from my friend list, I hope.”

“I can’t talk to you about this.”

Cam looked at Annie, who shrugged. Cam suggested tequila, hoping to extend conversation and maybe loosen Jake’s tongue, but Annie suggested they go. She held out her hand and Jake took it, following Annie out the back door. It was some time before Cam heard the single set of footsteps on the stairs, which meant either Annie or Jake had decided to call it an early night.

It was probably for the best. In fact, Annie had probably saved Cam from alienating Jake permanently. Besides, they all had a big day the next day.

* * *

A
s she was finishing up dishes, she heard an unfamiliar pounding on her front door. People had fairly individualized knocks, but her most regular guests typically just let themselves in after a warning knock or two. This was someone who didn’t visit her regularly.

Cam dried her hands and made her way to the front door. A small window in the top of the door revealed a sandy head of hair. She stood on tiptoes far enough to recognize Benny’s eye and opened the door.

Benny burst in, followed more slowly by Dylan.

“Hi. Um . . . is there a problem?” Cam asked. “Is the vandal back?”

“No, this isn’t about the pageant . . . well, not exactly. It’s . . . well, Dylan here . . .”

Dylan wasn’t wearing his naughty smirk, and Cam thought he looked worried.

“It’s like this, Miz Harris,” Benny said, his words coming in spurts. “Remember how you solved the murder a couple months ago?”

“That wasn’t exactly . . .”

“Yes, it was! I know the killer tried to frame your friend, so you solved it.”

“Well, I guess . . .”

“The police are asking a lot of questions like Dylan did it. We wondered . . . well, I suggested . . . I thought maybe you could find out who did it, so Dylan doesn’t have to go to jail.”

“Benny, I’m not a detective. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“But you’re so smart! I know you could do it.”

Benny played this very well—complimenting smart people and playing a bit dim himself was something he’d perfected, but Cam knew it was mostly an act.

She almost told him off because his game irked her a little—at least the idea that he was still trying to play it with her. Then she saw Dylan. He was licking his lips like a man lost in the desert. His demeanor was very different from the cocky man he usually was.

“Sit.” She gestured toward the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Beer?”

“Beer’s good,” Benny said.

“Dylan?” Cam asked.

He nodded. He still hadn’t said anything.

She took them their beers and then opened a Diet Pepsi for herself and sat.

“What makes you think they’ll blame you?” Cam asked.

Dylan looked up, took a drink, and then straightened a little. Cam thought he didn’t really want to be there.

“I guess there’s the money. A will. It’s . . . I didn’t even know there was a will, but that producer woman let me have it when she realized who I was.”

“Let you have it, how?”

“I walked her inside her house—to make sure she was okay, like you said. I never put it all together. But inside there were old pictures—a local television award, stuff like that. And it was the show my mom had been on. Before she had me, she was a weather girl on a morning show and then she got fired when she got pregnant. I knew it was the show, so I said it to the woman—that Towers-whatever . . . and she got really mad. She threw things and told me to get out.

“Then the police came—when I called you. I went down to the station to answer questions, and they started asking me about how I knew I was in the will. I didn’t know anything until that first police officer said the dead guy was my father.”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. I called my mom after I got home, and I guess he bought her a little crappy house to shut her up—made her swear never to tell. It’s a lousy house, but . . . you know . . . when a house is paid for, she could make ends meet, even without her weather job. Neither of us ever thought there’d be anything else. And my stepdad was there awhile—then another guy she never married. Heck, I didn’t even know she knew who my father was. She never mentioned him. I thought she just worked and saved.”

“Well, you can’t be blamed if you didn’t even know,” Cam said.

“But they don’t believe me. I’ve run a half-dozen cons and scams—get-rich-quick schemes—at any given time. I’m an easy target, and I think that Towers woman wants it to look like me because then I don’t get any money.”

“Do you know how much?” Cam asked.

“Would it matter?” Benny asked.

“I framed that wrong.” Cam thought for a minute about what she meant. “If the wife still gets the bulk of it and you just get a little, it might not be worth it for her to try to frame you—too risky, so she’s really just throwing the accusation and it can’t hurt. But if you will get what she perceives to be a lot—then she may do whatever she can to make it look like you, regardless of who it was.”

“Though if it’s
her
, she might want him to look guilty no matter what,” Benny said.

Cam snapped her head around to stare at Benny. “You think
she
did it?”

“Isn’t it always the wife when a rich guy bites it?”

Cam thought about Telly leering at Jessica Benchly and thought it wasn’t at all unlikely. She also thought, if things between Jessica and Clancy Huggins were at all serious, that
he
might have taken offense at Telly Stevens’s behavior.

“I can come up with at least a few suspects. I’ll ask some questions and hopefully we can throw enough doubt on you to make it stick.” She doubted it would come to that, but it seemed easy enough, even so.

“Thanks, Miz Harris,” Benny said, standing.

Dylan and Cam stood at the same time and found themselves in too little space. Cam could smell peat, the residue of aftershave, and a little sweat as she found herself staring at Dylan’s shoulder. He was well over six feet tall, though she hadn’t realized just how tall, since she hadn’t stood this close to him before. Usually when she was this close to a man, she looked at eyes or nose. Rob was a nose man. Right now she was looking at a chin. She backed up a step.

He took her hand and kissed it—a proper kiss, like an old-fashioned gentleman—not the earth-shifting wrist-lick she’d gotten the last time he made the gesture. She was glad for that. She didn’t think she could help Dylan if all she could think about was a quiver at the base of her spine.

C
am slept lightly. Her brain tossed around themes about the love triangles, quadrangles . . . was “quintangle” a word? There was no solid answer except Jessica Benchly looked like the centerpiece. Cam wondered if she could think of an excuse to talk to the woman, since she wasn’t officially a part of the pageant.

When Cam arrived at the Patrick Henry, she tried to keep her pace measured as she entered the pageant’s suite and then the large private office occupied by Evangeline.

“I have a question.”

Evangeline looked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and Cam thought she wasn’t the only one who’d slept poorly.

“Yes. When I blocked Barry on my cell, the crank calls stopped.”

“Oh! Well, that’s good.” Cam felt a little guilty for having let Evangeline’s problem fall off her priority list, but she plowed on. “I was actually going to ask whether you knew Jessica Benchly before Monday.”

“Well . . . ‘know’ has degrees. I’d met her. She was another former Miss Virginia, actually. She went further than I did—I think she was a national finalist. Probably she didn’t have as much of an attitude. I think she was four years ahead of me.”

Cam would never have said it. Evangeline looked great for the thirty-eight Cam thought she was, but she really never would have guessed that Jessica Benchly was another four years older. The woman looked perpetually twenty-five. Age, though, was not relevant to Cam’s set of questions.

“Is she dating Clancy Huggins? Or is that . . .”

“Oh, honey, I have no idea. I’ve seen them places together before—for years, actually—and they’re affectionate, but they’ve never called themselves a couple. Neither one is married.”

“And what about Telly Stevens’s feelings for her?”

“Just between us?”

“Of course.”

“Telly had a reputation for . . . sampling the merchandise . . . he sort of thought if a beautiful woman was on his show, she should . . . you know . . . show her appreciation . . .”

“Ick.”

“I know. Second-rate stars, though, were happy for the opportunity, and honestly, I’ve heard he was . . . now this is strictly rumor . . . skilled. He probably started the rumor himself. Anyway, the rumor is Jessica refused and then Telly, baffled, like the egomaniac he was, proceeded to follow her around because he didn’t believe she was serious about not wanting him. Cam, this is totally gossip—please only take it that way . . .”

Cam nodded. “Now, don’t shoot me. I have a guess on this, but I want your guess. If she turned down Telly, who was handsome, why say yes to Clancy?”

“I don’t know that she did. They may just be close friends. But the fact that I believe Clancy Huggins would take a friend on dates speaks volumes. Even if Telly is better looking, Clancy is so much more interesting, and . . . where it matters—for relationships, he’s loyal.”

Cam nodded again. Her thoughts hadn’t been so specific but were certainly along the same lines.

“Is Jessica going to be part of things later on this week?”

“I was surprised she wasn’t here Tuesday. She’s usually very supportive. In fact, it might have been because of that scene at the party.”

Cam’s brain, in full conspiracy mode, wondered if Jessica might have been avoiding the scene of the crime. Having Telly Stevens stalking her sounded like a motive. And having him stalk a bunch of other women, and apparently sleep with them, sounded like a motive for his wife. Cam made a mental note for the time being and left it at that.

* * *

T
he day had a fair bit of structure to it, and Cam had taken care of her tasks, so she decided she would answer some of the emails and put out some fires related to her regular job. She went home so as not to be distracted by other things and ended up on the phone for a couple hours straight.

She felt a sense of accomplishment when she was finished, and she walked back to the Patrick Henry feeling a little lighter.

* * *

“T
hat friend of yours, Barry’s wife, has called you a half-dozen times in the last half hour. She sounds frantic,” Evangeline shouted from her office as soon as Cam entered the suite.

“Oh, thank you. My ringer was off, and I guess I forgot to turn it on again.”

Cam went into one of the other offices and closed the door to return Mindy’s call.

“Mindy? What’s up?”

Mindy began shrieking and Cam could barely understand her.

“Calm down, Mindy. What happened?”

Mindy couldn’t get the words out, but she did manage to convey her room number, so Cam sprinted out. The Travelodge was several blocks away, but Cam was used to walking and could do so quickly. Fifteen minutes later, she knocked on Mindy’s door.

The room was a disaster, torn top to bottom. Cam felt sure Mindy had had a break-in, but Mindy explained that she’d done it.

“Why?”

Mindy sniffed and took out a large makeup bag. She unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag and tossed it to Cam. Inside were a few wilted plants. Cam frowned and held it up, looking at the dejected flowers, petals browning from lack of air.

“Why are you traveling with oleander?”

“I’m not! I think it’s a message. I didn’t even know what kind of flower it was.”

“You didn’t bring this?”

Mindy shook her head. “Why would I? And if somebody put
this
in here, somebody could have come in and ruined Lauren’s dress!”

“When did you find this?”

“About an hour ago, after I dropped the girls off, I was planning what I’d wear tonight and one of my lipsticks was missing, so I opened that side pocket.”

“How often do you normally open it?” Cam asked, though she could tell the flowers weren’t months old. If she were guessing, she’d say a day or two, depending on how much oxygen they’d been exposed to.

“Almost never.” Mindy said. “It squashes things.”

“Mindy, we need to call the police.”

“I think someone is just scaring us—they know Lauren is a favorite—someone who stays here, maybe.”

Cam swallowed, unsure what to do. The lab thought oleander had been used to poison Telly Stevens, and somebody must want it to look like Mindy did it. Cam didn’t think Mindy had put the two together. She might not even know oleander was poisonous.

“Mindy, is there anyone who’d want you to look guilty of murder?”

“What? No.”

“No one?”

“Murder?” She paused awhile, frowning. “Barry, maybe. He’d get the girls, but . . . I wouldn’t think he’d be that awful . . . or do that to their mother . . .”

“I have to call Jake.”

Mindy sank to the ground. She looked frail and helpless and Cam felt bad, but she was sure if Mindy was being framed, someone else was also calling the police to report her.

Cam hit the number already saved on speed dial. “Jake?”

“How do I know I’m going to regret this?” he said.

Cam ignored his jab. “My friend Mindy, you remember Mindy?”

He sighed loudly.

“. . . had something put in her hotel room,” Cam continued. “She thought it was a fellow contestant being awful—just spooking her—and called me. I recognized it as something more serious, so I’m calling you.”

“They aren’t there yet?” Jake asked.

“Who’s not?”

Pounding on the door answered her.

“I guess they are now. I can count on you to prove we called before they came?”

He made a series of noises, but Cam took them for grudging agreement. She noted the time on her phone and then opened the door.

“You.” It was the female deputy who had been there when Telly’s body had been found. She looked confused.

“Yes. Mindy called me because she thought another contestant was trying to scare her by putting something in her room. I just called and told Jake, because it looks
to me
like somebody is trying to frame her for murder.”

The deputy glared. She was followed in by the greenest rookie Cam had ever seen. He still had acne and she was pretty sure he only needed to shave once a week.

“We had a tip something might be here,” the deputy said.

“I’m sure that something is that.” Cam pointed at the freezer bag on the bed.

“Did either of you touch that?”

“We both did. Mindy got it from her makeup bag and showed it to me before I had the full story. She didn’t know it was evidence, and neither did I, until I saw what it was.”

“And what makes you think it’s evidence now?”

“Because I know oleander is poisonous and I think Telly Stevens was poisoned.”

“It’s suspicious that you know so much.”

“And don’t you think it’s suspicious that you got a call about something that was hiding in a pocket of Mindy’s makeup bag? Who would know that besides Mindy, unless somebody put it there other than her? My knowledge happens to come from a degree in horticulture. Besides, any plant grower knows oleander is poisonous. It is one of those they warn parents about—to watch their kids.”

“Did
you
know oleander was poison?” the deputy asked Mindy.

“By name I’d heard that, but I didn’t know this was oleander until Cam told me. I don’t . . . well . . . I haven’t gardened since I was in high school, other than a few geraniums in a window box. We have . . . had . . . a gardener.”

“Had?”

“My husband and I are separated. I can’t afford a gardener without him. I had to let him go.”

The deputy seemed to be enjoying this a little too much.

“Shouldn’t you be searching for break-in clues or something?” Cam said.

“Did they do all this when they supposedly put this here?”

Cam squinted at her name tag: Quinn.

“Officer Quinn,” Cam said more patiently than she felt. “Yesterday somebody sabotaged Mindy’s daughter’s dress. Today she found evidence someone has been in her room. She freaked a little and looked for any sign of who it was. You can’t blame her.”

“Maybe
you
can’t.”

“You can’t just ignore that we tried to report this before you got here.”

“No. That was clever of you.”

“Clever? If this
were
hers and related to the
murder
, don’t you think she would have gotten rid of it?
That
would have been clever. Not letting anyone know it was here? Common sense. This reeks of framing.”

“Maybe
you
would have gotten rid of it. I hope you don’t turn to a life of crime, as you’d be harder to catch.”

Cam couldn’t believe this.

“Mrs. Blankenship, we need to take you in for questioning,” the green rookie said.

“But . . . my girls . . .”

“Their father will have to get them,” Officer Quinn huffed.

Cam frowned. Some fathers weren’t even in town yet. Some were never coming.

“He doesn’t . . . he isn’t . . .” Mindy looked up at Cam with a very sad face.

“Do you have a lawyer, Mindy? I can call and have him meet you there about the girls,” Cam said. “I won’t let them alone until this is sorted out.”

Mindy wrote down a name and gave it to Cam. She then left with the police officers.

Cam put together the girls’ bags and set them by the door. She found the spare key card and put it in her purse. She didn’t want Lauren and Lizzie too traumatized, so whatever happened she would retrieve their things for them once she had a car to do it with.

* * *

A
fter the harrowing experience, the walk back to Elmwood Park in the July sun seemed to take a lot of effort. She not only felt overheated but drained when she reached the Arts Commission building. She hoped at least part of the rehearsals were happening. The bright, cut zinnias that had filled buckets at the farmer’s market had cheered her, but here, even the hardy shrubs looked tired. They really needed a good long soak and a break from the heat. It was just too hot, for people or plants, to be outside.

Michelle, with the help of two of the teens, was leading the fitness routine. It was easy to spot the girls who’d had years of dance—probably two-thirds of the contestants. What Cam didn’t spot, however, was either Lauren or Lizzie. She waited until the group reached a stopping point before she asked Michelle.

“Nell has the rest of the girls as well as Ashley and the adult volunteers. They are over at the library working on their gardening projects.”

“Ah! Thank you!”

Cam hated to leave the air-conditioned building, so she stepped into the hallway and called Evangeline before heading back outside.

“It’s Cam,” she said when Evangeline picked up. “They just took Mindy to the police station. Evangeline, would Barry frame Mindy for murder?”

“What?”

“She called me because somebody planted oleander in her room. That’s not how she put it—she just found it, but that’s what it was. Then whoever it was called the police. Fortunately, Mindy had called me first and I called Jake, so we have a credible witness it didn’t belong there. But Barry seems the most likely person to want to frame Mindy.”

The silence at the other end of the phone seemed too long, then Evangeline said, “I wouldn’t think so. He’s smart, and that’s a wily plan. But he’s also selfish.”

“Meaning?”

“Well, I can see him wanting custody financially, or to stick it to his wife, but he isn’t going to want the kids every hour of every day. It would cramp his womanizing ways. Kids sometimes help—make him look sympathetic. But I can’t see him putting his built-in child care in jail. Plus, I’d like to believe the Barry I once knew really loves his kids.”

“That’s harsh. Other than that last point, I mean.”

“I know, honey. I’m just trying to think like I think he would.”

“And it’s pretty convincing, but who else would want to frame her?”

“Who else looks guilty?”

Cam was annoyed when her mind went to Dylan. He’d been near enough to the argument to have easily overheard. He might know Mindy was an easy scapegoat. Cam didn’t want to think about him that way. It would be really lousy to frame another innocent person, just to get out from under the spotlight. She would need to talk to him and see what he thought.

In the meantime, she needed to check on Mindy’s girls, and she wanted to brainstorm with someone she trusted. Her experience with friends being blamed for murder suggested if she didn’t do some investigating on her own, the wrong person might be blamed. She also felt like she owed Mindy and would like to be free of the debt.