4 Decoupage Can Be Deadly (24 page)

Two hours later Marie Luscy returned my call as I rooted through plastic tubs of fabric in the closet that housed models and my supplies. “I can spare you a few minutes during my coffee break,” she said. “That’s all. It’s unbelievably chaotic up here today.”

“Does that mean you won’t be able to do any computer searches for me?”

“Definitely not today.”

Marie sounded harried. Or nervous. Maybe both. Something was going on, and I doubted I’d find out what by trekking upstairs. I heard too many voices in the background. The hushed quiet of Gruenwald’s inner sanctum was anything but hushed at the moment. “Why don’t you come down here for coffee?” I suggested.

“Good idea. I need a break from this place. I’ll see you in ten.”

With Tino close behind, I headed for the break room to brew a fresh pot of coffee and wait for Marie.

The two previous times I’d met Marie Luscy, she’d given off a consummate executive assistant vibe—capable and businesslike, able to handle anything thrown at her without ever a hair out of place. Not this morning. Marie arrived with her blouse untucked and a leg-length run in her left stocking.

She plopped into one of the molded plastic chairs, let loose a huge sigh, then asked, “Got anything stronger than coffee?”

Tino and I both gaped at her. She of all people should know Trimedia’s strict policy against alcohol in the workplace. “What’s going on?” I finally asked after shutting the break room door.

“Mr. Gruenwald announced this morning that we’re moving back into the city. Today.”

“Why?” I asked.

“With Philomena gone and
Bling!
folding, he has no reason to be here.”

Not that he ever did since Philomena rarely showed up at
Bling!
and when she did, she never stayed long.

“Anyway,” continued Marie, “we’re vacating the corn field for a view of the greener pastures of Central Park. I’ve got the entire janitorial staff packing up his office.”

She turned to Tino. “Did you know about this? Because I would have appreciated a bit of warning.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about it,” he said.

“He expects you to load up his car with cartons, then drive him back into Manhattan.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“And leave Mrs. P.?”

“Apparently Anastasia’s safety comes second to carton and CEO delivery.”

“So nice to know where I stand in the pecking order of Trimedia,” I said.

“What did you want to discuss?” she asked me.

I told her and Tino about my
Bear Essentials
light bulb moment. “I really don’t pay any attention to what goes on at the other magazines. Were there any threats made by members of the laid-off staff? Anyone with a grudge? Because that would explain the killer bringing Philomena’s body back here and knowing about the security cameras.”

“No more than the usual,” she said. “There are always a few angry people making threats after a layoff. People are scared. They’ve had their paychecks and security yanked out from under them. They lash out, say things they’ll never act on.”

“Except when some do,” said Tino. “Look at all the workplace shootings that have involved former employees.”

“Anything’s possible,” said Marie. “I don’t have time today, but if I get a chance tomorrow, I’ll email you the personnel files of all those who were laid off.” She stood, coffee in hand. “I’d better get back upstairs.”

She paused at the door. “For what it’s worth, though, I don’t think the police are eyeing Mr. Gruenwald as a suspect any longer. You could probably stop investigating.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Mr. Gruenwald said the police corroborated his alibi for the night Philomena was killed. They no longer suspect him.”

“He could have hired someone to kill her,” said Tino.

“Nothing like having your boss’s back,” I said.
 

“Hey,” he once again held up his hands in that defensive gesture. “I don’t think he had anything to do with her murder. I’m just saying that’s the way cops think. After all, Mr. G.’s loaded. Rich guys don’t get their hands dirty; they hire out their dirty work.”

“So why don’t the police think Gruenwald hired himself a hit man?” I asked Marie.

“According to Mr. G., they have another suspect who looks good for the murder.”

“He told me he was worried they might suspect Mrs. Gruenwald,” I said.

“Why would he say that?” asked Tino.

“A woman scorned is a woman capable of doing anything,” I said. “She might have hired someone to kill Philomena.”

“What about the divorce?” asked Marie. “Why have Philomena killed if she was divorcing Mr. Gruenwald?”

“The divorce filing may have been a ruse to avoid being considered a suspect. Even Mr. Gruenwald suggested the police might think so.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Tino. “When did he say that?”

“When he asked me to investigate.”

Tino turned to Marie. “Did the cops tell Mr. G. anything about this other suspect?”

“He asked, but they refused to say.”

“There’s another possibility,” I said. “They could just be saying he’s no longer a person of interest so that he lets his guard down.”

“She’s right,” said Tino. “Cops lie all the time to trip up suspects.”

“How do you know that?” asked Marie.

He offered us a sheepish grin. “TV cop shows.”

“Which are so accurate when it comes to factual information,” I said. “I suppose you also believe medical examiners run around in four inch designer stilettos and DNA results arrive before the last commercial break.”

He added a shrug to go along with his sheepish grin.

“Mr. Gruenwald paid me to find Philomena’s killer,” I said. “That’s what I’ll continue to do unless the cops find him first or Mr. Gruenwald tells me to stop looking.”

“That’s very honorable of you,” said Tino. “Just make sure you don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Is that a threat?” His eyes had narrowed, and his face took on a menacing hardness that turned the coffee in my stomach to acid.

“Consider it a warning,” he said in dead seriousness. “I’m paid to protect you, and I can’t be by your side twenty-four/seven. You get yourself killed, I lose my job.”

And once again Anastasia Pollack is shown where she stands in the universe.
I inhaled a shaky breath. “Nice to know you care, Tino.”

“I’m heading upstairs to see what’s going on with Mr. G.,” said Tino. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

“I’m off to the closet in search of fake fur for Teddy the Lepre-Bunny-Bear. Unless the killer overheard this conversation and is lurking behind a plastic tub of fabric, you have nothing to worry about.”

I didn’t mention that I’d previously confronted a killer in that same closet. What Tino didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.

Before heading down the hall, though, another thought occurred to me. I sat back down at my computer and fired off a quick email to Marie.

NINETEEN

Shortly before the end of the day Tino, pushing a hand truck loaded with heavy-duty document storage boxes, appeared at the entrance to my cubicle. “I’ll walk you down to your car if you’re ready to leave,” he said.

I powered down my computer and grabbed my purse. “I didn’t realize you were still here. I thought Mr. Gruenwald wanted you to bring him into the city earlier.”

“Already did. This is my second trip.”

“Why are you playing moving man?”

“Most of the contents of his office are going by truck. This is stuff of a more delicate nature he didn’t want to trust to movers.”

I supposed that meant the various framed items and expensive awards that had lined the shelves of Gruenwald’s ebony bookcases.

I headed down the hall, Tino at my side. “Did Mr. Gruenwald mention anything about the investigation?” I asked once we were alone in the elevator.

“I told him your latest theory. He thought you might be onto something.”

“Don’t you think the detectives would have looked into former employees who might have a grudge against the company? I’m probably several steps behind them.”

“Or you might uncover something they overlooked. You found the embezzlement, didn’t you?”

“Which turned out to have nothing to do with the murder,” I reminded him.

“Still, no one else in the company realized what was going on until you looked at those files.”

I tilted my head to eye him. “You mean until I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong?”

Tino blushed. “I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. I like you, Mrs. P. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

“I don’t want to see anything bad happen to me, either, Tino. Thanks for caring.”

Tino had parked next to my car. I waited while he popped the Lincoln’s trunk and carefully began loading the cartons. As he stooped to hoist the last one off the hand truck, something small and sparkly on the trunk lining caught my attention. I reached in, scooped it off the carpet, and slipped it into my skirt pocket before Tino turned around.

“Are you and Tessa dating?” I asked after he slammed the trunk shut.

His brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Who’s Tessa?”

“Our fashion editor.”

“Why do you ask?”

“She’s made a few comments.”

“About the two of us going out?”

“No, about having the hots for you.”

Tino’s face broke out in a wide grin. “Jealous, Mrs. P.?”

“You’re a little young for me, Tino.”

“Not the cougar type, huh?”

“Definitely not. And I see you’re avoiding answering my question. Should I read something into that?”

He shook his head in denial. “Nothing to read. I’m not even sure who she is, but if she’s got the hots for me, I hope you’ll introduce me to her.”

“Deal.” I headed for my car. Tino waited until I pulled out of my parking space before he slipped behind the wheel of the Lincoln.

When traffic on Rt. 287 slowed to its usual rush hour dead stop, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the item I’d pilfered from the trunk of the Lincoln. Just as I suspected, it was a small crystal, the same kind used in Vajazzling, the same kind Cloris and I had noticed wedged into the sole of Tino’s shoe. I reached for my phone and called Cloris.

“Are you suggesting Tino killed Philomena?” she asked after I filled her in on the events of the day.

Was I?
“He’s not dating Tessa,” I said. “He didn’t even know who she is.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not dating someone else with a sparkly hoo-ha. But even if he were, how would a Vajazzling crystal get into the trunk of the Lincoln?”

“You mean unless it fell off a dead body? It was only one crystal, though, and the interior of the trunk showed no evidence of having recently transported a body. No stains on the carpet. No odors. Besides, wouldn’t the police have searched the car if they suspected Gruenwald of killing Philomena?”

“Maybe they don’t have enough evidence for a search warrant yet. And Tino could have cleaned up the trunk after he dumped the body.”

“I don’t know. The trunk didn’t look recently cleaned; it just looked like the interior of a typical trunk belonging to someone who doesn’t cart around all sorts of kid paraphernalia and groceries.”

“Not particularly dirty but not pristine?”

“Exactly. Plus, even if Tino did clean the trunk, the police would still have ways to find evidence you couldn’t see with a naked eye.”

“If we can believe what we see on cop shows.”

“Maybe the crystal was wedged in the plush of Gruenwald’s carpet and stuck to one of the cartons Tino transported earlier in the day.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of something.”

“Maybe I am.” I didn’t want to think of Tino as a killer. Or even a transporter of dead bodies. I’d come to like the guy. “What if Gruenwald killed Philomena and tasked Tino with cleaning up the mess?”

“You think Tino would do that for Gruenwald?”

“Who knows how far his loyalty goes?” Or what he’d be willing to do for the right price. Tino had made that comment about rich people paying others to do their dirty work. Was he referring to his own relationship with Gruenwald?

“But if Gruenwald killed Philomena, why would he pay you to find her killer?”

“Maybe he paid me to keep me from finding her killer.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“What if Tino was assigned not to protect and help me but to keep me from learning the truth? Gruenwald thinks I’ve got this incredible Sherlocking ability. Hiring me might have been his answer to keeping tabs on me, making sure I didn’t go off on my own to ferret out the truth.”

“Okay,” said Cloris. “Let’s assume you’re right. Whether Gruenwald killed Philomena or paid Tino to do his dirty work, why would Tino dump the body back at Trimedia?”