Bodice of Evidence (13 page)

“Perfect Proposals, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Pepper.” Detective Murphy's rumbly voice came through my phone speaker. I was at home looking through five or six rental ads that Mitzy, my Realtor, had sent me via an online portal. When the phone rang, I had answered it on speaker.

“Oh, hi, Detective Murphy,” I said, dragging my eyes from a quiet little bungalow in Des Plaines. “How are you? Has there been a break in the case?”

“No break, but . . .”

Oh boy, hesitation was never good. I picked up my phone, switched off the speaker, and sat back in my office chair. “Please tell me you didn't arrest someone I love.”

“No, no, the case is still being investigated, although we are close to figuring it out.”

“How close?” I asked, drawing my eyebrows together.

“There is a person of interest we are calling in first thing Monday morning.”

“Cool, anyone I know?”

“I doubt it.”

“Then what can I do for you, Detective?”

“I, um, told my daughter about you.”

“You did? Oh, that's sweet. Wait . . . what did you say about me?”

“I told her about your deadbeat boyfriend and how you recently told him to take a hike.”

“And?”

“And that you said you wish you had told him to leave years ago.”

“I see.” I pursed my lips and had a bad feeling this wasn't going the way he had hoped. “What did she say?”

“She said, good for you and she hopes you are happy.”

“I am happy.”

“That's what I said.”

“Oh, don't tell me you told her she should do the same thing!” I felt the horror rise up from my stomach.

“I may have mentioned something like that,” he admitted, and sounded so full of regret.

“Oh, Detective Murphy, I told you not to do that. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking it was a great conversation to have. You know, telling her how you reminded me of her and all.”

“While that's very flattering, I'm not so sure she'd appreciate you telling her that her boyfriend is as bad as Bobby.”

“I figured that out a bit too late.” He sighed. “Now what do I do?”

I ran my hands over my face and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “When did you talk to her?”

“This morning.”

I shook my head and my mouth became a single thin line. “I would give her a couple of days before I called again.”

“What do I say?”

“You apologize.” I heard him wince. “Then you send her flowers and you tell her that you understand that she is an adult and that you know you raised her to make the right choices for her. Then you tell her that you trust her to make those choices on her own and you will never suggest she isn't making good decisions again.”

“But she's my kid.”

“And she will be your kid for the rest of her life, but that doesn't mean you should be parenting her. Unless she asks for your honest opinion, and even then you need to be careful how you give it.”

“Are all girls this complicated?”

“Yes,” I said. “If your wife were here, she'd tell you the same thing.”

“That's what I was afraid of.” He blew out a breath. “Thanks, Pepper.”

“You're welcome. Now, as to the investigation, have you thought about Vidalia's brother, Vladimir?”

“What about him?”

“I walked in on Vidalia arguing with her brother over the phone. When I asked about it, she told me that he was upset because he was not given any part of the dress shop when his mother died. He only got cash and didn't think that was fair.”

“Family dispute, Pepper,” Detective Murphy said in full cop mode. “Besides, it happened after the murder.”

“Vidalia's husband, Anton, told me he was glad Vlad got nothing because Vlad is bad news.”

“Again, how does that help my investigation?”

“Check out his background. He could have killed his mother because he needed money and hoped to inherit half the shop. Or he could have a record and have gotten away with a few crimes in the past, thus emboldening him to steal things from the shop. When his mother caught him, he killed her.”

“Your imagination is far too vivid,” Detective Murphy said with a chuckle.

I pouted. “What if I'm right? I'm telling you there is something going on there.”

“I'll look into Vladimir's background just like I looked into Thad's.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did, Pepper.”

I waited a couple of heartbeats. “And you're not going to tell me what you found.”

“This is a police case, Pepper,” he said.

“I was thinking about that, too. Did you happen to
keep the coffee cups that Vidalia had in her hands? I'd like to see them.”

“Why?”

“They might contain a clue. I could talk to the barista at the coffee shop and find out who drank what. Or—even better—they might have lipstick or fingerprints on them.”

“First of all, there is no reason for you to talk to anyone about my case,” he chided me. “Secondly, we didn't keep them. There was no reason to do that. Vidalia came into the crime scene carrying them.”

“Right.”

“Besides, if we had and there was any evidence on them, I couldn't show them to you anyway. You understand that, right?”

“Sure.”

“Now, how are you doing? Is that guy . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Bobby?”

“Yes, is Bobby bothering you at all? I know you dated a long time.”

“We're good,” I said, and glanced at the bar across the street. “In fact, I've been looking for a new apartment. So if you know of anything cute and affordable, I'd be happy for the mention.”

He paused.

“What?”

“My mother has a small house in Park Ridge.”

“Okay, well, is she looking to rent a room or something?” I winced. “I'm really looking for an apartment.”

“See, that's the thing, Mom's ninety-four years old.”

“That's a nice thought, but I'm looking for a new place I can really make my own.”

“So, you're looking to buy.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “I guess I haven't figured that part out. I'm mostly looking to move away from The Naked Truth.”

“What?”

“It's the bar across the street that Bobby practically lives at. That bar is the reason I live here and it's sort of time for me to move on, you know?”

“I get it,” he said. “Well, good luck in your search.”

“Good luck with your daughter,” I said. “Send flowers.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that. Bye, Pepper.”

“Bye.” I hung up and looked out the window. A group of young guys headed into the bar at two in the afternoon. It might be nice to move into a neighborhood without a bar on the corner. That said, did I want to take on a roommate my aunt Betty's age? I wonder how she would react when I wanted to bring Gage home with me.

The idea made me laugh. If I were to move in with Detective Murphy's ninety-four-year-old mom, I might as well put an “Unavailable” sign on my forehead and get some cats . . . a whole lot of cats.

*   *   *

The next day I stopped by the dress shop to pay the next portion of the bill for my bridesmaid dress. The dresses were custom sewn and not cheap. Thankfully Vidalia had
a payment plan that split the cost into four parts. I didn't have Mom's great negotiation skills behind my purchase, but then she wasn't buying my dress.

Luckily the parking lot was emptier and I was able to find a space quickly. I didn't mind walking my payment in because it gave me an excuse to ask Vidalia how the case was going and if she remembered anything more about the day her mother died.

I pulled the door open and discovered a new man at the front desk. He had the same strong Eastern European features as Vidalia and her husband, Anton. “Hello,” I said as I stepped up to the desk. The sleuth in me was aware that the door did not slam behind me like it did the first time. I assumed that meant that Vidalia still had the back door secure.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The man had darker hair than Vidalia but his eyes were very similar. He was slight of build and wore a pale pink dress shirt with a deeper pink tie with tiny white polka dots. He stood when I entered.

“I'm Pepper Pomeroy.” I stuck out my hand. He shook it firmly.

“Ah, are you the Ms. Pepper who discovered my mother's body and then brought in her family to save our family's bridal business?”

The heat of a blush rushed up my cheeks. “I'm not sure I'd say that I saved your family's business. Your sister is very good at what she does.”

“Of course she is.” He waved the thought away. “Please sit. I am Vladimir Svetkovska.”

I took the chair next to the front desk. “Nice to meet you, Vladimir.” He was much younger than I had thought. My guess would be he was ten years younger than Anton and about four years younger than Vidalia.

“Certainly,” he said. “What makes an important person such as yourself come into the shop?”

“I'm here to make a partial payment. Vidalia set me up on credit for my maid of honor gown.”

“I see,” he said. “One moment and I will bring up your account on the computer.”

“I'm surprised to see you here,” I said.

“You are? Why? This is my family's business.”

“Yes, of course, but Vidalia told me you were unhappy with your mother's will. I mean, I know Eva left the shop to your sister and yet here you are.” I paused a moment. Okay, so my question was a bit nosey but I had to know. “Look, I know it's none of my business, but since you are here, I assume Vidalia is fixing the oversight and giving you your half of the shop. I mean, she seems like she would do the right thing for you.”

Vladimir's face turned a sudden deep purple red and his eyes narrowed. There was a tic in his jaw and I sat back to put some space between us. “No.” Vlad said. “Anton would never let her do anything like that. I am here as a temporary assistant. Even then I doubt he will let her keep me here for long.”

“Wow, sorry,” I murmured to soothe his visible anger. “I had no idea or I would not have brought it up.”

“My sister and her husband are greedy. They think
because I have had a few unsuccessful attempts at starting my own business that I am no good. This is madness. New start-ups fail all the time. This is not my fault. First the location was terrible. Then the bankers they don't allow me time to get momentum going. They do not give me extra money to put out enough advertising.” He took a deep breath. “Then my partner skimmed from the top. His wife would come in and take money right out of the drawer, and when I told him that she needed to stop, he would do nothing about it. None of this is my fault.”

He turned to the computer and tapped on the keys. “It is ridiculous that my sister does not understand this. She has our mother's business. She had never dealt with a start-up.” He looked at me. “You payment is two hundred and fifty dollars.”

I pulled out my checkbook and filled out a check as he continued with his rant.

“I could make her and Anton millionaires. But they do not offer me as much as a nickel for my next idea. So here I am working for peanuts as a temporary assistant at a shop that is rightfully half mine.”

Ripping off the check, I said, “Perhaps they only wish to motivate you. You could do it without them and show them how wrong they are. Can you imagine how good you'll feel when they see that you're a huge success?”

He took my check and logged it into the computer and printed off my receipt. “No, they wish to keep me from my success. They have refused to be my reference, and worse, they have refused to cosign my next loan.”

“It is because you have already lost Vidalia a lot of money,” Theresa said as she came around the corner. “And you are lazy. Everyone knows this. I heard Vidalia's friends tell her not to even think about loaning you money. Even here, I have to do your job as well as mine.” She gathered up some cups from the waiting area and placed them on a tray. “You know you must never allow dishes to remain in this area.”

“I was getting to it.”

Theresa snorted. “I'm sure you were.” She walked out with her back straight and her nose in the air. I found her such an odd girl. She never even acknowledged me in the room.

“It was nice to meet you, Vladimir,” I said as I picked up my receipt and stood. “I wish you luck on your next venture.”

“I don't need luck. I will make a lot of money and show them all,” he shouted over his shoulder so that Theresa would hear him in the back room. Then he turned to me. “Would you wish to invest with me?”

I smiled awkwardly. “No, I've got a new business and am cash poor. It's why I'm making payments on my dress. I'm sure you understand.”

“I do and I'm certain no one calls you lazy.”