Wound Up In Murder (16 page)

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Authors: Betty Hechtman

BOOK: Wound Up In Murder
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19

“Sammy's needs come first,” I said as I pulled my car into one of the angled parking spots on Grand Street in downtown Cadbury. Lucinda had instructed me not to park close to the Blue Door so she wouldn't be tempted to drop in. We just had to go down the block to reach The Butterfly Bed-and-Breakfast. While Lucinda didn't go into the restaurant, we hadn't considered that her husband might look out. We had barely started walking toward the bed-and-breakfast when Tag came running across the street and caught up with us.

With his practically obsessive-compulsive nature, you wouldn't expect him to be a romantic, but he certainly was as far as Lucinda was concerned. He greeted her with such gusto you'd think she'd been gone for months instead of one night.

“Why'd you park on the other side of the street? There's a spot almost in front of the Blue Door.” He looped his arm in hers. Lucinda seemed uncomfortable as she broke the
news that she wasn't there to come to the restaurant. “I'm helping Casey with something,” she said. Was there any chance he would leave it at that?

Tag wanted to know not only what she was helping me with, but the exact details. Lucinda tried to dance around the truth, but he kept prodding. Finally she threw me a helpless look. I had not wanted anyone else to know that I knew where Sammy was and, even more important, to divulge his actual location. It put them in an awkward position where they might have to lie. It would be even worse if they told the truth. Tag, with all his knife straightening and things having to be just so, didn't seem like a good candidate for keeping the secret. But it seemed that I wouldn't have the chance to get Sammy's stuff unless Tag knew what was going on.

“It's okay,” I said to Lucinda. I turned to Tag. “I need to get something out of Sammy's room, and Lucinda is going to act as a distraction.”

I quickly added that I had Sammy's permission and the key to the room so it was all perfectly legal.

“Then you should be able to just go in there and get his things. I don't see why you should have to sneak in,” Tag said. “If you don't want to do it, I will.”

“You don't understand.” I looked to Lucinda for assistance in dealing with him.

“Honey, Casey is worried about having to answer questions about Sammy. It's easier this way.”

“Oh,” Tag said. “Is that because the police are looking for him?” A breeze came through and ruffled Tag's thick hair. Without even thinking, he took out a comb and straightened the flyaway strands. He seemed to think things over for a moment, and I was betting that he was going to insist that Lucinda not get involved, but he surprised me. “I think they're wrong. I know Dr. Glickner's character and he's not a killer.”

I so wanted to say “duh,” but I contained myself and let Tag continue. “I'm surprised to be saying this, but I don't want any details, and I hope you haven't given too many to Lucinda. I'd like to help. I'm sure you realize two people would make a better distraction than one.”

Lucinda was so pleased, she squeezed his hand and hugged him. “I knew living with me would change you. You're finally loosening up.”

Or maybe not. In the next breath Tag wanted to know exactly how they were going to distract the owners of the Butterfly Bed-and-Breakfast.

“I thought I'd just go in there and ask about their business,” Lucinda said. Tag didn't think that would do. I just wanted them to hurry up. Finally they agreed to talk to them about somehow working together. They discussed it and practically made up a script.

We walked the rest of the way to the imposing structure on the corner. The plan was they would go in first and I would stay outside where I could see in the window. Lucinda was going to wave her hand behind her when the coast was clear.

They'd barely gotten in there when Lucinda did the hand wave.

I went up the stairs quickly. No need to unlock the outer door at this hour. I was in the entrance hall in a flash. There was a different vibe in the place at this time of day. A housekeeper went up the stairs carrying linens while some guests came down. I veered to the left and the hall that led to Sammy's room, glad that I knew which door was his.

As soon as I was in the room, I let out a sigh of relief and took a moment to look around. The room was large and had soft green wallpaper. It was arranged so there was a seating area separated from the bed. His magic props were in a small metal trunk that was open. Sammy had been living
there long enough to have added a few personal touches, but it was hardly homey.

I reminded myself I was there on a mission and unfolded the large brown trash bag I'd brought to put his things in. I quickly went to the dresser and closet and grabbed several sets of clothes and underwear. His underwear drawer was a lot neater than mine.

I collected his shaving stuff and lastly the pajamas he'd requested. I was a little surprised to find they were black silk. That was something new.

I quickly packed everything into the bag I'd brought. I didn't trust walking out with it, so I opened the window and tossed it outside into the side garden and hoped no one was walking by. Then I locked up and began to retrace my steps toward the front door, but of course there was a problem. I heard voices coming from the living room. A woman was saying she wanted to check something in the kitchen, which meant she would be crossing my path.

She came out of the parlor and I made a snap decision. Instead of trying to elude her, I walked toward her as if it was my intention all along. She looked puzzled when she saw me, but I didn't wait for her to say something and spoke first. Thankfully I had never come there with Sammy so there was a chance she didn't know the connection.

“I'm looking for the Thornkills,” I said. “They own the Blue Door restaurant. Are they here?” The frantic sound to my voice was genuine and the woman perceived there was some kind of problem. She didn't take the time to question who I was, but instead led me into the parlor.

“There you are,” I said with feigned relief. “You have to come right away. The cook burned himself.”

“Burned himself! How did he do it?” Tag asked. Lucinda's eyes were rolling. I was pretty sure she was thinking what I
was, that Tag had forgotten they were there to divert the people's attention and believed what I said was real. This was the problem with including him in anything. What is that saying—wherever you go, you take yourself with. He started to ask more questions, but Lucinda used her arm like a hook and dragged him toward the door with me close behind.

As soon as we were outside, I started to reassure him that I'd just made up the whole thing about the cook. To my surprise, the worried look left his face and he laughed.

“I know,” he said. “I was just pretending. I think I did pretty well.”

I let out a big sigh of relief. “You definitely fooled me.”

Tag seemed immensely pleased with himself. “Who says I can't be spontaneous?”

Reluctantly he went back to the restaurant alone, but before he went in, he looked at me and smiled. “You know, I could be part of your investigations, too.”

“That man is bonkers for you,” I said, and Lucinda's face lit up in a happy smile.

“You're right, he is. Isn't that nice.” She was smiling brightly and then her expression faded. “No matter what he just said, having him along was a definite challenge. I know our plan was to talk to the proprietors about doing something jointly during the Monarch Butterfly Parade week. And we are actually going to work something out between us, but most of the time they were talking about Sammy.”

I must have looked worried because she instantly reassured me that they loved Sammy and had no doubt about his innocence. “But Lieutenant Borgnine has been by the inn a number of times. He asked a lot of questions about when they'd last seen him. He even did a number on them about having relatives coming in from out of town and maybe they would stay there. Could he have a look at the
accommodations and then conveniently suggested the room Sammy's renting.”

“Did they show the room to him?” I asked.

“No, but he threw around that he'd be getting a warrant soon.” She let out a sigh. “It's lucky that Tag didn't know anything because I'm afraid he would have said too much. By the way, the proprietors think he should turn himself in. But that's because they think once he talks to the cops, the cops will just believe that he didn't do it because he's such a nice guy.”

“If only that was true. Sammy can't even defend himself since he doesn't remember what happened after he started on the martinis.”

Lucinda looked at my hands. “Speaking of Sammy, where's his stuff?”

My eyes flew skyward as I ran back toward the B and B. The bag had landed on a gardenia bush, and as I retrieved it, some of the fragrant white petals fluttered to the ground. We put it in the back of my car and we moved on to our next order of business.

“Hey,” Maggie said in greeting when Lucinda and I walked into the Coffee Shop. She was just finishing up making an espresso drink and handed it to the customer. Then she turned all her attention to us. She pointed at the empty basket with a sign reading
CASEY'S MUFFIN
s above it. “We've branded you. People come in asking for your muffins now. Anytime you want to double the order, I'm willing,” she said.

The top, made out of red bandannas, was Maggie's red item of the day. She wore the bright color to keep herself cheerful, but it cheered everyone who saw her as well. The warmth of her personality had something to do with it, too. She honestly seemed to love her customers. “The usual?” she said, going to get a couple of cups. We both nodded and she started building our coffee drinks.

“I heard what happened at Vista Del Mar. It can't be true that Dr. Glickner is the main suspect?” She looked over her shoulder from the espresso machine. I didn't say anything, but I guess my expression did.

“Lieutenant Borgnine is totally focused on Sammy. Kevin St. John is on the Sammy-is-guilty bandwagon, too. Of course, he's blaming it all on me.” Maggie finished with the drinks and carried them to a table. We sat down together.

“Actually I thought you might be able to help.” Maggie's eyes lit up.

“Glad to be of assistance. Kevin can be difficult,” she said and I realized she thought I wanted help with the manager.

“He's such a weird guy. I don't really know anything about him. Does he have a wife, a girlfriend, a boyfriend?” I took a sip of the drink. As usual, it was perfect. “I suppose you know all about him.”

“You have to cut him some slack. I'm sure you've realized by now that Vista Del Mar is his life. He had a very messy family situation. His mother was sixteen when he was born. It raised a lot of eyebrows around here. No one seemed to know who his father was. Kevin's mother took off a couple of years later and never looked back, leaving her mother to care for him.” Maggie stopped and gave her head a little shake. “She was young and beautiful and hated the title of grandmother. She seemed to go through husbands. The first one was kind of a mystery and I think I'm not the only one who doesn't know if he was real or imaginary, though the second one created quite a stir. It didn't mean anything to me because I don't know the difference between a basketball and a soccer ball. They're all just round to me. But he was an announcer for the San Francisco Giants. He was long gone when Muriel took over Kevin's care.”

“Who's Muriel?” I asked, confused by the family saga.

“Sorry,” Maggie said. “That's Kevin's grandmother, the one who brought him up. From the time he was a kid, Kevin loved Vista Del Mar. He started working there as desk clerk when he was in high school. That place is his whole world. I'm sure that's why he acts so strange to you.”

I didn't mean to, but I suddenly felt sympathetic to the moonfaced manager. If the hotel and conference center meant that much to him, it was no wonder he wanted to control everything.

“Thanks for the Kevin story, but I'd really like some info on something else. Really someone else,” I said. Maggie checked the front of the store for any customers that might have just come in and, seeing none, turned back to us.

“Fire away, though I don't really know everything that goes on here.”

“I just found out the woman who died was from Cadbury originally. I thought you might know something about her.”

“What's her name?” Maggie asked.

“I don't have her maiden name, but her married name was Diana Rathman.”

The computer in Maggie's brain began to whir and her eyes darted around as she mentally scrolled through her mind. “How old?” Maggie asked.

“I think she was somewhere in her fifties?”

Maggie seemed to have come to something. Her eyes stopped darting. “There's only one Diana I can think of. This is almost too coincidental to be true.” She looked directly at me and Lucinda. “Remember I said Kevin was brought up by his grandmother. She had a daughter with her second husband. I'm sure her name was Diana.”

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