Board Stiff (An Elliott Lisbon Mystery) (10 page)

TEN

Buffalo Bill’s headquarters sat just at the edge of Summerton, a straight shot from Cabana Boulevard, which runs across the island, over the bridge, through Summerton, all the way to I-95. From there you can go north to Augusta, Maine or south down to Miami, Florida and all points in-between.

A giant animated cowboy sign flashed me as I pulled into the drive. “We MISS you Leo!” (flash) “Super Sale Saturday!” (flash) “Come On Down!” It’s exactly what Leo would’ve wanted.

The lot was about half-full, but not so many cars that I didn’t notice Ransom’s slick silver racer parked up front. I chose a spot at the end of a far aisle next to an abandoned haystack. It was only Thursday morning, so no bbq or ponies outside, just a lone cowboy wrangling loose carts.

I entered the store covertly and sidled up to a young clerk. A jittery kid. He needed to dial down to half-caff or his heart would give out before he hit the legal drinking age. He wore a brown vest over a blue gingham shirt tucked into blue jeans. The name on his sheriff’s star nametag spelled out Brandon in a font that resembled rope.

“Howdy, ma’am, lookin’ for a deal today?” he said with a timid smile.

“Hi, Brandon. I’m actually lookin’ for Cherry Avarone.”

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s on your shirt.”

“Oh. Sure. Well, Cherry’s not a salesgirl, ma’am. Maybe I can show you something?”

“I’m not here to buy anything. This is personal.”

“Oh.” He glanced around nervously. “We’re not supposed to have personal calls or visitors, ma’am.”

I glanced around, too. A row of checkout counters was set up like horse stalls with wide plank fencing and saddles to hold shopping bags. Wood aisle signs hung over rows of appliances, the text burned into the wood like branding. I didn’t see any managers, but I did spot Ransom talking to a salesman. I edged over two large steps, behind a checkout counter, blocking myself from Ransom’s view.

“Cherry won’t get into trouble. I’m a friend of Leo Hirschorn’s. Do you know where I can find her?”

He lowered his voice. “A detective from the police came in when we opened. He wanted her, too.”

“Thanks, Brandon, I’ll see if I can’t find her myself.”

I snuck to the back through the music department. Two dozen speakers poured out the same Carrie Underwood song. Some blockhead stole her happy and made her cry. Wants her future, but he can’t have it. I hear you, sister.

With one eye on Ransom, I made my way to a door marked Office. He was still tied up with Cowboy Bob, probably getting the pitch on a brand-new Frigidaire. I knocked softly on the door and turned the knob. “Hello, Cherry?”

“Yes?” a voice said from behind me.

I turned as a girl in her late twenties approached carrying a muffin and a coffee cup. She was the spitting image of Bebe (back in the day), but with big black hair and knockers the size of footballs. She wore her pants tight and her fingernails red.

“Hi, Cherry, I’m Elliott Lisbon, a friend of Leo’s from the Ballantyne.”

“Sure. He talked about the Foundation all the time.” Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, but also dressed in eyeliner and mascara. Someone both sad and optimistic.

“Hello, Red,” Ransom said. He blocked the office door with his body, his arms crossed over his chest. Years of training clearly kept his temper in check, but his eyes were so dark, they didn’t look blue.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

He put his hand on my arm. “Now you’re beginning to interfere.”

“What? A girl can’t buy a toaster? I ran into Cherry here, thought I should offer my condolences.” I turned to Cherry. “You doing okay? Maybe we should talk.”

Two large tears tracked down Cherry’s face. “Sure. I’m doing okay, I guess, but it’s hard.”

I pushed past Ransom and held open the office door. “It’ll be just us girls. Wouldn’t you like the detective to wait outside?”

Cherry nodded. I smiled at Ransom and slammed the door. Then twisted the lock in case he got frisky.

I followed Cherry down a short hall into a posh executive suite. The larger office on the left must have been Leo’s. A massive desk dominated the room with a cowhide rug on the floor and matching cowhide accessories sprinkled around the room: chandelier shades, switch plates, and a furry blanket over an iron and leather sofa.

Cherry walked into the other office on the right, smaller, about half the size, but exactly the same, down to the iron sofa. It was much more comfortable than I thought it would be. But Cherry was no neatnik. Tchotchkes covered the table with more pens scattered around the top than in the pencil cup. She had salt and pepper shakers, a tiny horseshoe, a ceramic cowbell, and a square planter, all bright red against the black and white cowhide décor.

“Cherry, I am so sorry about Leo.”

“Thanks. He was a great boss, you know. Nice to everyone at the store, never too busy to talk.”

I smiled in agreement. “Leo was the same with the board, loved to talk.” I didn’t mention that half the board wanted to stuff his cowboy hat right down his throat so he’d shut up. Even if you could slip in a sentence or two, he’d interrupt and barrel right over you.

“He couldn’t wait for Monday’s meeting to get his seat renewed another year,” Cherry said and set her muffin on the glass-topped table between a jotter box and a stapler.

“How about here? Things going well at headquarters?”

She laughed, but the sound was sharp and bitter. “You’ve been talkin’ to Bebe. God, I hate her. She’s the only one who calls this a headquarters. Does this look like a freakin’ headquarters?” She waved her arms around the room in exasperation. “It’s an office. Leo left the headquarters in Hoboken, he runs the executive stuff outta here.”

“You must have a pretty good job to leave Hoboken behind.”

“Oh definitely. I’m Leo’s marketing assistant. I help with promotional ideas, advertising. I was a graphics major at the community college. I design all the posters and flyers.”

“I hear Leo wanted to film a commercial.”

Her eyes sparkled and she really smiled. “We’ve been workin’ on it for two months. We’re usin’ real actresses as models. We’re gonna do the commercial like that game show, The Price is Right. Show the appliances like prizes, real classy-like.” Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks again, leaving two fresh streaks of black mascara.

I handed her a tissue from the box on the table.

“Thanks,” she said and blew her nose. “It was gonna start shootin’ next month. Now what’ll we do?” She stared into Leo’s office across the hall. “He’s just gone. What am I going to do without Leo? Who would’ve done this?”

I was wondering the same thing. I leaned in conspiratorially, girl to girl. “How close were Leo and his family?”

“We’re more of a family than his crazy wife. I don’t know what he saw in her. Woman’s got one wheel loose and the other’s dragging.” Cherry blew out a long shaky sigh, then lifted herself up, shoulders back. She threw her crumpled tissue into a cowhide wastebasket. “They fought all the time. She spent money faster than he could make it. On stupid crap, too. Some nutty new hobby, redecorating the house. Again.”

“Any arguments in particular, especially recently?”

“This time it was some stupid cruise. Leo couldn’t go because of the commercial, so she said she’d go alone and take the cat. The cat! I thought, fine, go. Give Leo some peace.” She checked her face in a round lighted mirror on her desk and opened a clear makeup bag. It was stuffed with more products than a department store cosmetics counter.

“Bebe told me you were gay.”

Her hand froze midway through the bag search and she slowly looked over at me. “What?”

“I asked if she thought you and Leo were having a thing, and she said you played for the other team.”

Cherry squirted foundation onto a well-used makeup sponge, then swiped her cheeks, blending the new coat over the old. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but gay isn’t one of them.”

“Interesting, though, right? I mean, why would Leo tell her that? Unless you were having a thing.”

“No ‘thing.’ Bebe’s nuts, probably made the whole thing up.”

“So Leo wasn’t having a thing?”

She glanced at me. “Well, I don’t want to gossip, you know, with Leo being gone and all…”

“No, not gossip. We’re just talking, trying to figure this out.”

“Right. Well, Leo went on and on about some gorgeous looker. He tried to hide it, but you know Leo, can’t shut up to save his life.” Her eyes filled again. “Oh God. I didn’t mean that.”

I squeezed her hand. “I understand. Do you know who the looker is?”

“Some lady named Dee. A customer, maybe? I never met her and I don’t know if anything went on between them. Like I said, he tried to hide it.”

Maybe the hottie Leo swung around the dance floor. I made a mental note. I didn’t want to use a notepad and look like a reporter on an interview. 

“I met Travis yesterday. Seems like a good kid, pretty distraught over his father.”

“More like guilt from treating his dad like trash. Leo wanted him to work here, earn his own spending money instead of mooching off his old man. Travis wouldn’t step foot in this place. Called it Barfalo Bill’s. This place pays for his private school and his car and his weekends with friends. What a little shit.”

“A little shit, indeed. Says he had big plans that night. Though I guess I did, too. How about you? You’re young and single, bet you outdid us both.”

“Hardly. Home alone, where else?” Her shoulders sagged and her voice dropped. “I didn’t even know he was dead until Monday. No one even called me. I heard it from the receptionist when I came to work.”

I tried to remember my conversation with Bebe, anything else I could ask Cherry since she was being so chatty. I was beginning to think a notebook on my lap might be helpful. “Who’s Joseph? Bebe said he moved down here from New Jersey, too.”

“Well, sure, Joseph is Leo’s partner. They started it together.” Cherry applied a rosy powder to her cheeks with the precision of an artist. “You know, you should try wearing makeup. A little color would brighten you right up.” She tilted my chin and brushed blusher on my cheeks. I tried not to make a face. I didn’t want to protest and break her rhythm.

“How well did Leo and Joseph get along?”

“Like best friends. Loved each other like brothers. They were talking about opening a new store, a second one here in Summerton, near the river.” She leaned in close to study my face. She zeroed in on my eyebrows. “Ever think of plucking those? I gotta waxer. I could bring it in, shape ’em right up.”

I touched one of my brows. I liked my thick eyebrows, and I wanted to keep them that way. “Thanks, Cherry, but I’m good.”

She took the rest of me in: my wavy hair, my simple cotton shirt, my full set of plain nails.

“Why no color?”

“I like them natural. Low maintenance.”

She arched one of her thin brows. “Well, sure, but at least slap on a coat a clear. You could catch a man easier if you put in a little effort.”

“I’m not looking to catch a man.”

She laughed. “We all are. Besides, I saw you lookin’ at that hot detective. You’d be competition if you gave it half an effort.”

I blushed. “Okay, then. I think that’s it for now. Be careful with the hot detective. He’s a handful.”

“So am I.”

That she was. I let myself out and quietly tiptoed through the household appliance section. I scanned the store for Ransom; he had to be lurking somewhere. He probably grabbed Joseph while I sequestered Cherry, now I wanted to switch.

I crept around a pyramid of food processor boxes. It chops, dices, slices, purees, and shreds. Who needs all that?

I picked up Ransom’s scent in the home theatre department. Literally. I followed the strong trail of sandalwood and ginger, keeping my head low. He stood with his back to me, making notes and speaking to a beefy guy with thinning curly hair and oval glasses. If I squinted, he looked like Leo, only taller.

Inch by inch, I tiptoed closer. A dozen TVs played six different shows, but all on mute, so I heard the low rumble of their conversation. I peeked over a row of small flat panels. They stood about ten feet away. I could almost read Joseph’s name tag. He wore the same uniform as the sales clerk only his vest was real suede and his hat real felt.

“…cousins. Me and Leo grew up on the same block. My ma’s devastated.”

“So you were close, then?”

“Best friends since we were kids, like brothers.”

“You have a nice store. Looks kind of slow, though. Not too many cars in the lot.”

“It’s only Thursday. We get a full boat on the weekends. Things’ve been good, real steady.” He spoke with his hands and he never quite made eye contact with Ransom, his gaze constantly roaming the store floor. The consummate salesman, always looking to trade up.

I ducked down lower before he could spot me. I caught a glimpse of Brandon, the sales clerk, across the theatre room. Also eavesdropping. I stayed crouched, but peered around the shelf to get a better look.

Brandon fiddled with a DVD player, but his head was definitely tilted toward Ransom and Joseph.

“…you two were partners. What happens now that Leo’s gone?” Ransom said.

“Excuse me, do you need help with something?” A salesman asked me.

I jumped back six inches and almost screamed, but covered it with a coughing fit. “Just browsing,” I whispered to the same Cowboy Bob Ransom spoke with earlier. “Sore throat, been sick, can’t talk much. Flu maybe.”

He backed away faster than a bunny from a fox hole.

I coughed again, then peeked over the aisle. I’d missed Joseph’s answer to the who-inherits-Buffalo-Bill’s question. Shit. That was a good one.

Ransom wrote another note while Joseph watched a couple in their forties lurking near a particularly large TV. She carried an oversized designer handbag; he wore tailored golf slacks and a country club shirt. Enough money to one up the Joneses, or at least try to.

Brandon moved closer and was now so tilted, I feared he might topple.

I stepped to the very edge of the aisle, but Cowboy Bob was watching me. I pretended to sneeze, then studied the row of TVs on the shelf in front of me. A nice flat-panel caught my eye. Twenty inches wide with a side load DVD player. It had 16:10 aspect ratio (whatever that is) and sale sticker for only $299. Floor model and the last one left. I did love TV. I’m the only one I know with two TiVos.

A movement just above my sightline caught my eye. Ransom walking away, toward the office in back. By his stride, I bet he’d pound on the door and demand entry. Cherry would love that.

I checked the home theatre department, but Joseph was gone. Cowboy Bob had wrangled the yuppie couple and Brandon was standing alone two aisles over. I waved at him. “Can you help me?”

He glanced at me nervously, then joined me. “I don’t know anything.”

“Is Joseph still working?”

“No. He just left. Real fast,” he said and looked over his shoulder. “I don’t want anyone to see me talking to you.”

I smiled a real charmer. “I’m just wondering about this TV on special. Can you tell me about it?”

“Um, sure.” He nodded, but still had a mild twitch. “This really is a great TV.”

“It looks like it. Does the floor model come with a box? And maybe just one quick question about Joseph? Did you hear him speaking with the detective?”

He looked around for the third time. “Well, Mr. Hirschorn, Leo Hirschorn, not Joseph Hirschorn, was good to me. Gave me a shot at sales, so I feel like I owe him.” He lowered his voice. “I overheard what Mr. Hirschorn, Joseph, said to the detective. He was lying. It doesn’t have a box, but you get the manuals.”

“Lying about what? What’s this aspect stuff mean?”

He picked up the remote and clicked on the screen. He flipped the channel over to The Price is Right. “Mr. Hirschorn, Leo, watched this every day. See the clear picture? It’s HD compatible. Aspect ratio is the width.” He clicked through the settings and the picture zoomed in and out. “Mr. Hirschorn, Joseph, and Mr. Hirschorn, Leo, fought a lot. They did not get along.”

“Let’s call them Leo and Joseph, just for now. Do you know why they argued?

“The new store, I think. It was really bad the day before Mr.—Leo died. Joseph threatened him.”

“Are you sure? Does anyone else know about this?”

Brandon clicked off the set. We both noticed Cowboy Bob at the same time. He had stepped closer to us in an effort to give his yuppie couple space while they huddled in decision mode.

“I’ll take it, Brandon,” I said. Time to upgrade the TV in my bedroom. It was so old, it still had a tube in it.

“Really?”

I nodded and he unplugged it. He handed me a Ziploc with the manuals and the remote, then carried the set over to checkout.

“I’ll take it to your car for you,” he said.

He carefully covered the TV in plastic bubble wrap while I paid. I wondered if I could charge it back to the Foundation. The price of information was $299, plus tax.

I took my plastic bag of manuals and Brandon followed me out the door. Ransom’s car was gone. “Did you tell the police about their argument?”

“Me? No. No one asked and that detective didn’t look very friendly.” He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice to a whisper. “What you asked before? A lot of people heard them fighting.”

“Even Cherry Avarone?”

“Sure, she was in there with them. And ma’am, it got ugly.”

He gently placed my new TV in the back seat, and I thanked him.

I climbed in and drove out of the lot. So Cherry and Joseph were lying about this whole best friends, like brothers routine. And Cherry didn’t offer up an alibi either.

It was interesting, but sad, too. Before this week, I only knew the one side of Leo. The big mouth that grated on everyone’s nerves. Over the last two days I met the other side, the people who loved him and now mourned him. To them, Leo was a husband, father, friend, boss. Of course, that also gave them more motives for murder.