Dying for a Change (7 page)

“
Sharon is one of the partners in the land Stop N Shop wants to buy.” Nicole didn’t get to finish. Tom eagerly added his contribution. “She also manages the investment group, and is the broker representing both parties in the sale.” He gave a “so there” nod toward Ray.

“
You’re making a big thing out of nothing,” Ray said, disgust obvious in both voice and face. “The important thing is to get the deal done, not how you do it. And don’t forget, Hank had a financial interest in that store. He was one of the partners too, and was a cinch to get the contract to build the store. That didn’t stop him from voting.”

“
Yes it did.” Dottie’s voice was firmer than I’d ever heard it. “Hank was going to abstain, he told me so. He was trying to get some of the undecided people to be sensible, but he wasn’t going to vote. Hank was an honorable man.”

That wasn’t the way I’d heard it, but maybe Hank had separate standards for personal behavior and business. I took another look at Dottie. She stared defiantly at Ray, her mouth set, her hands clenched. Perhaps Aunt Mary and Pat Bennington had something. Dottie’s expression suggested her defense of Hank was something more than standing up for an “honorable man.”

“
Wouldn’t it be nice if some other people around here had that reputation,” Tom muttered. Nicole glanced up at him, then, a little nervously, back at Ray.

“
Now listen here,” Ray began, belligerence ripe in his voice, “if you’re calling me unethical, or saying I’m not honorable, you better have proof. Good proof.”

He moved toward Tom, who stood his ground.

Dottie gave a little moan.

Nicole a nervous laugh. “He never mentioned your name, Ray. Don’t be so touchy.”

Tom didn’t help matters. “If the shoe fits.”

“
Now, listen here.” This time Ray raising his clenched fist.

“
Hank didn’t think you were so darn ethical.” Tom clenched his own. “He said he’d have your license taken away. Could he have, Ray? Did that make you so upset you hit him over the head with a brick?”

“
Hey, you can’t get away with accusing me of murder. Hank didn’t have one shred of proof I ever did anything wrong.” Ray’s scowl turned into a sneer. “Besides, if we’re talking about murder, how about you? It was your little wife Hank was trying to hit on. Made you pretty mad, didn’t it, Tommy?”

I watched Tom’s face flush with rage. His glasses slipped down his nose, but instead of pushing them up again he pulled back his right arm and started toward Ray. I was sure he was going to let fly and we would be treated to an old-fashioned fistfight. Should I do something? What? One more thing real estate school hadn’t prepared me for.

The door opened. I could hear it, but my back was turned and I couldn’t see who it was. I could guess though. Tom’s hand dropped to his side and his face turned to chalk. Ray’s jutting chin dropped and an ingratiating smile started to form. Nicole still looked scared, Dottie looked relieved. Dan had arrived.

“
Hi,” was all he said. It had more affect that if he’d yelled through a bullhorn to clear the room.

“
Ah, Dan.” Ray tried hard to smile. “Good to see you. Ah…,”

“
Good to see you too, Ray.” Dan’s voice was mild. Deliberately mild. I could have told Ray that was a dangerous sign, but didn’t. Instead, I turned toward him and smiled. I got one back before he turned to the rest of the group. “What’s going on? You all look a little agitated.”

“
Nothing, nothing,” Ray said hurriedly. “We were, ah, talking about poor Hank. Such a tragedy.”

It was almost funny watching Ray try to look pious.

“
Are you making any progress finding out who did it?” Dottie’s voice was soft, and somehow sad.

“
We’re working on it. Don’t worry. This is one murderer who won’t get away.”

“
Oh? How can you be so sure?” Ray’s question was innocent, but he let the doubt in his voice show through.

Dan heard it. His expression didn’t change as he looked at him. He didn’t say a word until Ray started to squirm. “Through painstaking investigation, Ray. That’s how we solve all our cases.”

Ray flushed, at least he had that much sense, but he couldn’t quite put his needle away. “And who are you going to investigate?” He looked pointedly at Tom.

“
You, Ray.” I thought Ray was going to faint. “We have some questions to ask you, and I’m sure you’ll be only too glad to answer them. Won’t you?”

Ray gulped and nodded.

For the first time Dan turned toward Tom and Nicole, who seemed to be trying to fade into the background. “We’ll need to ask you some questions, too. And you, Dottie.”

“
What kind of questions?” She seemed the only one of the three capable of speech.

“
When you saw Hank last, what he said, that kind of thing. I’ll also need your fingerprints. None of you mind, do you?”

“
Fingerprints?” Tom said faintly.

“
Yes. That’s all right, isn’t it?” There was an edge to Dan’s voice that said it had better be.

“
Sure, sure. I just wondered why?”

“
That house is full of fingerprints. Workmen, mostly, but all of you went out to look at it a couple of days ago. Right?”

Ray, Nicole and Ray all looked at each other. Nicole nodded.

“
If your prints come up, we can use them for elimination.”

“
Elimination?” Nicole sounded a little hopeful.

“
Uh huh,” Dan replied. “Then I can count on all of you? Good. Give the station a call. They’ll set up appointments for you. Now, Ellie.” He turned to me. “It’s your turn. You won’t mind a little ink on your fingers, will you?”

“
Not a bit.” I made my voice determinedly cheerful. “I can hardly wait.”

Dan held the office door open for me, and we sailed out.

“
You didn’t need to spread it on quite that thick.” I could barely hear him as the door closed behind us.

“
Yeah? It sure sounded like someone needed to. What’s the matter with all of them?”

“
I don’t know, but it’s going to be interesting to find out.”

Dan started off down the sidewalk, me beside him.

“
Where’s your car?”

He stopped, looked down at me with a grin. “Oh, Ellie. You lived in Los Angeles too long. This is Santa Louisa. Here, we walk.”

Our office is downtown, directly across from a picture book park, complete with a fountain, bandstand and a much-loved original old brick Carnegie library, overflowing with books. Ours is the kind of town that invites walking, browsing, stopping, and chatting. I’d almost forgotten.

Dan and I started down one of the brick paths that wander through the park. Across the street, I could see the old Inn clearly through the leafless trees where it sits in majestic splendor. It’s a landmark in its own right. There’s been a rumor going around for years that Jesse James stayed there and that he had a secret tunnel made for a quick escape, but no one’s been able to prove it. All of the guest rooms open out onto the gardens complete with fishpond and water lilies. It’s the most popular place in town for wedding receptions, and half our brides have pictures of themselves wandering romantically with their grooms under the ancient oaks. Lots of things had changed in the twenty or more years I had been gone, but not this. I was momentarily transported back to childhood, with all the feeling of peace and security that went with that time. Unfortunately that didn’t last. We had reached the small police station.

A plump, motherly type woman was sitting behind the counter, looking all-wrong in her blue uniform. She belonged at one of Aunt Mary’s church sales, or leading a Girl Scout Troop, anywhere but here.

She bustled around from behind the counter, giving us both a toothy smile. “You the one needs her fingerprints taken? Come right over here, dear. Won’t take but a minute, then you can go in that other room and Sergeant Riker can take your statement. Don’t you worry none, dear. None of us bite. Do we, Chief?”

She laughed heartily. I heard Dan chuckle.

“
Take good care of her, Hazel. And wash her hands off good. I’m taking her to lunch later and I’d like her presentable.”

Hazel gave me a second look. “He’s taking you to lunch? Well, don’t that beat all.” She looked me up and down again, and nodded. I must have passed because she grinned, grabbed me by the hand and practically pulled me behind the counter. Dan disappeared through a door marked, appropriately, Chief of Police, and my thumb was already rolling in ink.

Sergeant Riker was the thin policeman from yesterday with the “Joe Friday” voice. Evidently I hadn’t made a good impression on him for he ignored my attempt to be friendly, skipped the formalities, and went right to the questions.

“
Why were you at the house at four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon? Why did you go upstairs? Did you touch anything?”

I’d tried to answer factually and unemotionally, but now I blurted out, “Like what?”

“
Well,” Riker lost his detached attitude and looked a little flustered, “like the closet door, or…”

“
Are you trying to ask me if I touched the body?” I asked, incredulous.

“
Well,” Riker paused before he took the plunge. “Yes. Did you?”

Hank, lying in that closet, appeared before me and I shuddered. “No.” I said. If he wanted more, he was going to have to ask. He didn’t.

Finally, we were through. Riker presented me with a copy of my statement. I read it, signed, and walked back out to the tiny reception room. Hazel sat on a stool, reading a book. She hastily pulled it into her lap, but not before I caught a glimpse of the cover. A hero with bared chest, a heroine with heaving bosoms. Maybe I needed to rethink the Girl Scout part.

I knocked on the closed door of Dan’s office, heard a muffled “come in”, so I did. Dan was on the phone. He waved me to one of the two chairs in front of his desk while he continued to scribble notes on a legal pad. I thought only lawyers and real estate agents used them. Maybe not.

The chairs were 1960’s modern and covered in brown vinyl. I chose the one without a crack in the seat and looked around. A reasonably good-sized room but crammed with stuff. Open shelves on one wall overflowed with manuals, boxes, folders, a computer terminal, fax, and a radio of some kind making soft static noises. The opposite wall was filled with files cabinets, more files piled on top of them. The wall behind Dan held a window, one that looked out on the back side of the park, and on his desk, in a silver frame, was a picture of a pretty young woman with long black hair and deep brown eyes holding a boy about three. The boy was a darker version of his father.

Dan saw me look at the picture, and his eyes lingered on it also. He didn’t say anything however, only hung up the phone and smiled at me.

“
All done?” He glanced down at my hands. I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go eat.”

Hazel looked up from her book as we passed through. “Have fun.” That devilish grin must have come from something she read in the book she kept trying to hide. It couldn’t have been meant for us.

Dan steered me away from the park, down past the old clock tower.

“
Where are we going?”

“
To the Yum Yum.” .

“
Oh, no.” I stopped in my tracks. “Not that place.”

“
Why not?” Dan looked down at me, startled. “Don’t you like it?”

“
I’ve never been there, but I’ve been by it/ it reeks ‘cute’. All those wooden ducks with bows, plastic plants and gingham curtains. I’ll bet there’s nothing on the menu but herbal tea and anemic sandwiches with adorable names.”

Dan started to laugh. “Are you in for a surprise. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the door.

The smell when we entered was one step this side of heaven. We edged our way between crowded tables to the only empty one, way in the back. There was nothing anemic about the portions on the plates in front of the people we passed. Dan was obviously a regular for the waitress, a small, wiry type with overly permed blond hair and an energetic manner, came loping over to greet us before we were all the way seated.

“
Soup’s tomato bisque, muffins are cornbread or pumpkin. Special’s meatloaf with mashed potatoes. You havin’ that?”

Dan sighed. “Just soup, Ruthie. Cornbread muffins.”

“
You havin the same?” she asked me, filling both our coffee cups. “Say, you’re Ellen McKenzie, aren’t you? The one who found Hank in that house. Terrible thing, just terrible. Be right back with your soup.”

She rushed off without bothering for an answer.

“
I think you’ll like the soup.” Dan’s voice was mild, a smile hiding behind his mustache.

“
Humm.” I looked around. “I hope so. It didn’t seem I had much choice. How did she know who I am?”

“
Small town,” was the cryptic reply.

“
I know it’s a small town,” I said a little tartly. “I grew up here, remember?”

“
I remember.”

I looked at him for a second, started to say something. I decided to stick to the present. “Dan, listen.” I leaned over the table toward him, away from the loud hum of conversation. “When you came in the office, Tom and Ray were fighting.”