Book Club Killer (9 page)

Chapter 18

Java Jolt was packed to the rafters
when I walked in to meet Dora and Eve. I spotted them in the back, huddled
together at a small table near the display of packaged coffee beans. We were
getting together to devise menu plans for Rosemary’s family that we could then
split between the book club members. If everyone pitched in and prepared some
easy meals that could be frozen and reheated whenever Ed and the kids were
hungry, we’d be taking one small burden from their shoulders.

“You look cute!” Dora gave me a big
hug before I sank onto a chair. “I almost bought that same outfit last week.”

“Thanks, hon.” I glanced over at
the counter where a line snaked halfway toward the front door. “This place is
insane. How long have you two been here?”

Eve smirked. “Forever,” she said.
“And you’re late, Jana.”

“I’m sorry,” I said remorsefully.
“Sonja and I were at the police station talking to Detective Ford.”

Eve’s eyes flashed a dark scowl.
“You still trying to play Nancy Drew?”

I was stunned by her harsh comment.
“We’re trying to help in any way to find Rosemary’s killer.”

“Maybe it was Professor Plum in the
billiard room with a candlestick,” Eve murmured before reaching into her purse.

“Why are you being such a…” There
was no need to finish the thought; she knew what I meant. “I mean, aren’t you
curious about who murdered our friend?”

Eve opened a compact and began
studying her face in the small mirror. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say Rosemary
and I were friends,” she sighed. “More like acquaintances through the book
club.” She snapped the compact and dropped it into her purse. “Which, by the
way, I’m going to have to stop attending.”

Dora shot me a worried look. “Why?”
she asked, clutching Eve’s hand. “This is a time for all of us to band together
and support one another.”

Eve raised one eyebrow. “Isn’t that
what our therapists are for?” Her mouth formed an icy smile. “Or your Xanax
prescription?”

Dora was speechless. She frowned
and shook her head. I waited for a few seconds to see if she’d admonish Eve,
but she simply hunched over her cup and stared at the tepid coffee inside.

“Eve?” I kept my voice firm. “Can I
ask a question?”

“If you must,” Eve said.

“Why are you being so cold about
Rosemary?”

Eve smoothed a wrinkle from the
sleeve of her blouse. “It’s what Dr. Flagg would describe as shock,” she said.
“Yes, that’s it; I’m in shock at the untimely death of a member of your little
book club.”

I bristled at the reply. I wasn’t
close to Eve, but I’d never seen her being so frosty or detached. At our
monthly book club meetings, she’d engaged in lively banter and conversation
with the other girls. And the few times that I’d run into her around town,
she’d been cordial and friendly. I didn’t understand why she was suddenly being
so aloof and surly.

“Well, I hate to be a killjoy,” Eve
announced, reaching for her purse and jacket. “But I’ve got a facial in thirty
minutes on the other side of town. If you two decide what meals I can
contribute for Rosemary’s family, just text me and I’ll forward the details to
our chef. Julio will be glad to whip up something delicious for Ed and those
two brats that Rosemary used to drone on about.”

I bit the inside of my cheek,
trying to decide if I should let her have it or ignore the cruel insult. Before
I could settle on the right course of action, Dora grabbed Eve’s arm.

“What gives you the right to be
such a bitch!” she shrieked. “Our friend just died. And she was murdered! Now,
while we’re trying to discuss ways we can help her family, you suddenly drop
out of book club and start saying really mean things about Rosemary’s kids.
What is going on with you, Eve?”

“Don’t grab me like that!” Eve
snapped, tugging her arm away. “I agreed to meet you here today. And I’ll be
more than happy to have Julio help feed Rosemary’s family. But I’m not interested
in book club. Or anything else you’ve got to say!”

A few people at nearby tables were
now watching the outburst. An elderly woman sitting with two teenagers asked
Eve to keep it down, but there was no need. In a flash, Eve whirled on her
heel, hurried across the crowded coffee shop and disappeared out the door.

“What was
that
?” I asked
Dora.

She fell back in her chair with a
stunned expression on her face. “I have
no
idea. She’s always been a
little chilly to me, but that was…” She giggled nervously. “That was truly
worthy of an Academy Award.”

“Do you think she’s joking then?”

Dora shook her head. “Not at all.
That was the shriek of a very sincere psychopath.”

The remark was out of character for
Dora. She was usually so soft-spoken and demure that I was momentarily rendered
speechless by her description of Eve.

“I’ve heard rumors around town,”
Dora said as I shifted closer. “And I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Rumors?” I whispered, glancing
over my shoulder to make sure no one could hear us. “About Eve?”

“And her husband,” Dora continued.
“She thinks he’s having an affair.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re
serious?”

Dora nodded. “A friend in my yoga
class told me. She overheard Eve talking to someone at the drug store. Eve was
convinced that her husband was sleeping with another woman.”

“Why would she think he’s
cheating?”

“She found a pink thong in his gym
bag,” Dora said.

“Did she ask him about it?”

“I don’t know. My friend didn’t
hear the whole conversation that Eve was having. But she heard enough to know
that Eve said she’d do whatever it took to put an end to the affair.”

I sat back and smiled. “I guess
it’s true what they say, right? You reap what you sow?”

“Meaning?” Dora asked, sipping her
coffee.

“Eve walks around with her nose
held so high it’s a wonder it doesn’t scrape the ceiling,” I said. “If you
don’t already know that she’s rich, she’s more than happy to boast and brag
about it.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Dora
said. “But I—”

My phone bleeped loudly in my
pocket. “Oh, sorry,” I said. “Do you mind if I check that?”

Dora shook her head. “I’m going to
the little girl’s room. I’ll be right back.”

While she made her way toward the
restrooms, I pulled out my phone. The call was from Detective Ford, so I
figured that I’d better take it.

“Have I called at a good time?” he
asked after I clicked onto the line.

“Yes, sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Well, I was following a few leads,
and I wanted to ask you about a member of the book club.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“Eve Walker,” he said.

My heart thudded in my chest. “She
was just here,” I said in a rush. “We were having coffee to talk about…” I
decided it wasn’t important to explain, so I switched gears. “Why are you
asking about Eve?” I continued. “What did you find out?”

“Well, after you mentioned Brock Truscott
and his wife, I made a few calls. I happen to know Brock Truscott’s lawyer, and
he confirmed what you told me about the divorce being pretty tricky.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” I said.
“What did the lawyer tell you?”

“He couldn’t get into any
specifics, of course. But he did say enough to paint a pretty bleak picture.”

“Okay, so how does that relate to
Eve?”

“Truscott’s lawyer said he’d also
met recently with another woman who was referred by Mrs. Truscott. The second
woman, who also seemed convinced that her husband was having an affair, was—”

“Eve?”

“Yes, Eve Walker. But she was so…”
He paused briefly and I saw Dora coming back toward the table. “Let’s just say
that her behavior during the initial meeting was so
unusual
, my friend
declined to take her case.”

“What do you mean ‘unusual’?”

Ford cleared his throat. “I’m not
comfortable getting into the specifics, Mrs. Sullivan. It’s secondhand
information, and it was very unflattering. I also don’t think it’s necessary to
get into the nitty-gritty at the moment. If my hunch plays out, I’m sure you’ll
hear all about it in court one day.”

My breath caught in my throat. The
detective was being cagey, but it seemed like he was trying to suggest that Eve
might be somehow involved in Rosemary’s murder. When I came right out and asked
him, he again deflected the question.

“I’m not trying to be evasive,” he
assured me. “I’m just trying to be careful.”

Dora sat down and waited while I
finished the call with Detective Ford. He asked me a few questions about Eve,
but I could only answer two or three. I explained that I’d only recently joined
the book club and she was a relatively new member as well. The most telling
question that he asked was the final one.

“Do you think it’s possible that
Eve joined the book club to gain access to Rosemary?”

I blinked in surprise. “Are you
saying what I think you’re saying?” I asked breathlessly. “That Eve joined the group
so she could meet Rosemary and do harm to her?”

“Well, I’m working on a couple of
different theories here,” Ford answered. “For the time being, that’s one
possibility that I plan to look into.”

“I’m a little confused,” I said.
“What could Eve possibly have against…” The distinct elements swirled in my
mind until blending into one shocking thought. “Eve thought Rosemary was having
an affair with her husband?” I whispered. “Is that what you suspect?”

“Look, I’m sorry that I can’t say
more at the moment,” Ford answered. “But my preliminary inquiries turned up
some really curious possibilities. If you can sit tight for a while longer, I’m
going to dig a little deeper.”

Again, his cautious response made
me think that he was now turning his attention toward Eve in the investigation.
After a few more questions about her demeanor during the book club sessions,
Ford announced that he was heading out to interview Eve about the case. He
promised to call if he needed more information about anything, and asked me to
be in touch if I learned anything that I thought might be helpful.

“Who was that?” asked Dora when I
got off the phone.

“Detective Ford.”

“What did you mean about Eve and
Rosemary? I mean, you asked him if he thought Eve joined to—what? Get close to
Rosemary or something?”

“Well, he asked me about Eve,” I
said.

“What did he want to know?” Dora’s
voice crackled with curiosity. “Does he think she’s involved?”

I shrugged. “Not in so many words.
But my instincts are telling me that he’s leaning in that direction.”

“What about that other guy’s wife
you mentioned?”

“Brock Truscott?”

She nodded. “Yes, didn’t you say
he’s going through a messy divorce and there was a chance his wife could be
behind the poisoned spinach dip?”

“Right,” I said. “Detective Ford’s
looking into that angle as well as the possibility that Eve is involved
somehow.”

Dora’s mouth fell open. “I just
can’t…” She shook her head. “Do
you
think she could hurt Rosemary?”

“I think anybody’s capable of
anything,” I said. “Especially if they feel threatened in some way.”

Dora smirked. “But Rosemary’s so
sweet and kind. How could she possibly hurt Eve?”

“I don’t know, but Detective Ford
said he’s going to dig deeper.”

“Well, he’d better be quick about
it,” Dora said. “Eve’s leaving for Europe tomorrow.”

The bombshell made me do a double
take. “She’s
what
?”

“Leaving for Europe,” Dora
repeated. “Something about fashion shows and a getaway with her best friend
from college.”

“Must be nice,” I said. “If I want
to get away from it all, the fanciest thing I can do is book a mani-pedi.”

Dora smiled faintly. “I’m right
there with you! I can’t say I know Eve all that well, but I’ve always been a
little jealous of her wealth, their big house and everything else. I know they
say money can’t buy you happiness, but it sure couldn’t hurt!”

Chapter 19

Later that afternoon, I was
starting to prepare dinner when my phone chattered in my purse. I quickly left
the romaine leaves in the sink, dried my hands and got to the call just in
time.

“Jana!” a high-pitched voice said.
“It’s Sonja! My brother just left to meet whoever he did the delivery for on
Saturday.”

“Did he tell you that?” I asked.

She explained that she’d deduced it
from a call she overheard and a comment he made as he left her house. “I think
we should follow him,” she said quickly. “I’m already in the car. I can pick
you up in five minutes.”

“Did you call Detective Ford?”

“Yes, but it went right to his
voicemail.”

“And you left a message?”

“No, I didn’t want to risk it,” she
said. “If Warren’s meeting this person now, there’s a chance it would be too
late if we wait for the detective.”

“Where’s the meeting?” I asked.

“At Rusty Red’s,” Sonja answered.

“Okay,” I said. “Come pick me up.
I’ll text Ben and let him know dinner will be late. Then I’m going to call
Ford. He should know what’s happening.”

Sonja agreed, blurted a few more
things about her jittery nerves and then hung up. I put away the dinner things
that I’d been working on before grabbing my purse. I was locking the front door
when I heard a horn bleating from the end of our driveway.

“I’m
so
glad you were home,”
Sonja gushed. “I would’ve gone alone anyway, but it’s much easier doing it
together.”

“Exactly,” I said, trying to keep
the mood light. “If there’s a hail of bullets, maybe one of us will survive.”

Sonja hit the brakes and the car
jerked to a stop. “Are you kidding me right now?” Her eyes bulged and her face
was bright red. “Do you really think that could happen?”

I reached over and patted her arm.
“Calm down. I was making a joke.”

“A really
bad
one!” she
yelped. “I’m already a nervous wreck thinking that my brother might be involved
in a murder plot. I don’t need anything else to worry about.”

During the rest of the drive to
Rusty Red’s, I kept quiet. Sonja leaned forward on the seat, gripping the wheel
tightly. Every few seconds, an fretful sigh escaped her lips.

“Okay,” she whispered as we turned
the corner toward the strip club. “There’s my brother’s car.”

“I didn’t think he had one,” I
said.

Sonja glanced over and frowned. “He
bought it last night,” she said, indicating an old sedan with a cracked
windshield and dented hood. “Four hundred bucks for a piece of crap.”

“And there’s an Escalade,” I said.

Sonja squinted as she turned into
the parking lot. “Yep. A shiny black Cadillac. Just like the one that Eve
drives.”

“
What
?”

“Didn’t you know?” asked Sonja.

“I always see her in a two-seater
BMW,” I said. “A bright red convertible.”

Sonja nodded. “She drives that,
too. I think she’s got two other cars besides the BMW and the Escalade.” She
slowed the car and parked at the opposite end of the lot from her brother’s car
and the gleaming black SUV.

“Now what?” I asked.

“We go inside,” Sonja said, turning
off the engine and grabbing her purse.

“And then?”

“We find out who my brother’s
talking to,” she said. “If he was telling me the truth, it’s the same person
that paid him to deliver the poisoned dip to your house. And that would mean
that it’s the person responsible for killing Rosemary.”

She climbed out of the car, closed
the door and waited for me to join her on the cracked asphalt.

“Let’s go!” she called. “Why are
you moving so slowly?”

“I just don’t know if we should,” I
cautioned. “If what you just said is true, they’re not going to be thrilled to
see us.”

“Well, it’s a free country,” Sonja
said. “Maybe we were just thirsty and wanted to have a drink.”

I narrowed my gaze and smiled.
“Really? Do we look like regulars at Rusty Red’s to you?”

She huffed and turned on her heel.
“Well, I’m going in,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to join me
or you can wait out here. I want to get to the bottom of what my brother’s up
to and see if I can stop him before he digs an even deeper hole for himself.”

I hurried across the parking lot to
catch up. Sonja swung open the door, glanced back at me and waited until I was
beside her.

“Here goes nothing,” she said under
her breath.

We stepped into the dim bar as a
Bon Jovi song began blaring from the speakers. The place was fairly busy;
groups of men lounging around tables, a few scattered singles at the bar, and
one slim girl on stage bumping and grinding to “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

“She can’t dance,” Sonja muttered.
“But at least she’s pretty.”

I smiled at the offhand remark and
followed her to the bar.

“What can I get you ladies to
drink?” asked the bartender. He was tall and lanky with buzzed red hair, scruff
along his chin and a gold hoop through both earlobes.

“Do you know Warren Davis?” Sonja
demanded.

The bartender chuckled. “That a new
drink all you housewives heard about on TV?”

I clenched my teeth and resisted
the urge to say something sharp. “It’s her brother,” I announced. “His car’s
parked outside.”

The guy sneered. “Lots of cars are parked
outside.”

I caught a flash of blonde hair out
of the corner of my eye. When I turned to get a better look, I saw a svelte
woman dressed in a Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress. I’d never paid more than a
hundred dollars for an outfit, but I read enough fashion magazines to recognize
the designer sheath. I’d also never met Brock Truscott’s wife, but something in
my gut told me I was looking at her. I kept my eyes on the flouncing curves of
her body as she paraded along the side of the room toward a booth in the
corner. The seatbacks were high enough that I couldn’t see who else was sitting
there, but the willowy vixen smiled at someone as she sat down.

“C’mon,” I said, grabbing Sonja’s
arm. “I think I just found your brother.”

Although she wasn’t quite finished
glaring at the bartender, Sonja followed me across the bar. When we approached
a table surrounded by men wearing grease-stained coveralls, one of the guys
whistled and said something rude. Sonja was so fired up that she stopped and
turned, but I nudged her away from the testosterone zone and kept walking.

When we got close to the booth, I
stopped and leaned close to her. “It’s that one over there,” I whispered,
pointing at the last table. “I think Brock’s wife just sat down. And if my
theory is right, your brother will be there, too.”

As we edged closer and the
occupants of the booth came into view, I realized that our theory was only
partially correct. In addition to Sonja’s brother and the blonde I suspected to
be Brock’s wife, the booth contained a third individual who was clearly unhappy
to see us. It was Eve Walker, leering at Sonja and me like we had three heads and
hooves instead of feet.

“What are you doing here?” Warren
asked his sister.

Sonja narrowed her gaze. “I could
ask you the same thing,” she snipped before twirling her eyes toward Eve. “And
you
!”
she continued. “You of all people—involved in the murder of someone who trusted
you as a friend.”

Eve casually raised her martini
glass and took a demure sip. “Ah, poor, pitiful Rosemary,” she said. “I have no
idea how you think that I’m responsible for such a terrible thing.”

The blonde in the DVF dress scoffed.
“Eve? Who are these women?”

“Two losers,” answered Eve.
“They’re part of that silly little book club that I told you about.”

The other woman glanced at me.
“What do you want?” she asked. “Can’t you see this is a private conversation?”

Sonja stepped toward the booth.
“And can’t you see that we don’t care?” she demanded. “I’m here to get my
brother before you two bitches get him into any more trouble!”

Eve snickered. “Now, now, Sonja,”
she said in a high-pitched voice that was laced with disdain. “Why don’t you go
and have the bartender make you a cocktail? Seems like your nerves are a bit
frayed, darling.”

Sonja inched closer. “And why don’t
you go to hell? We know that one of you hired my brother to deliver the
poisoned dip that killed Rosemary.”

Brock Truscott’s wife burst out
with a loud laugh. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever—”

“Zip it!” I said, joining Sonja
beside the table. “We’ve talked to enough sources to know that someone driving
a black Cadillac SUV met my brother on Saturday before he came to my house with
the tainted spinach dip.”

Eve hoisted her martini. “Well,
congratulations!” she hissed. “Look who’s being our very own Nancy Drew.” She
took more of the drink and then put the glass on the table. “Whatever gibberish
you’re spouting, none of it can be proved. It’s all conjecture and nonsense.”

“Warren!” Sonja called. “Get up and
come with me!”

He shrugged. “Thanks, sis. But I’m
comfortable right where I am.”

Sonja heaved a sigh. “Come on, Warren,”
she pleaded. “Can’t you see what’s going on here?”

He glanced at Brock Truscott’s wife
and Eve Walker. “Yep,” he said. “I’m having a drink with two very lovely
ladies.”

“With two murderers!” I said
sharply.

“There’s that word again,” Brock’s
wife said. “You throw it around rather haphazardly, don’t you?”

I kept my eyes on her while she
smiled at Eve and Warren. They sat mutely, with faint smiles of smug
satisfaction on both of their faces. After a few awkward seconds, Sonja called
again for her brother to leave.

“Nope,” he said. “Why don’t you and
your little rat terrier skedaddle?”

Eve Walker chuckled. “Rat terrier?”
She flashed a wide smile at me. “Did he just insult you, Jana?”

I felt the fury boiling in my
chest. I wanted to reach out, grab one of the drinks and splash it in her face.
Instead, I took a step back and pulled out my phone.

“Who are calling now?” Brock Truscott’s
wife said. “Reinforcements from the dog pound?”

A corrosive laugh followed her
remark as Warren and Eve joined in the juvenile humor. I started to dial
Detective Ford’s number when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and
nearly dropped my phone when I saw him standing a few feet behind us.

“W-w-what are you doing here?” I
stammered.

He came closer with a confident
tilt of his chin. “I was stopping by to ask a few questions,” he said
discretely. “And then I saw you and Sonja talking to…” He turned to the trio in
the booth. “Well, I recognize you, Mrs. Walker,” he said, nodding at Eve. “But
I’m afraid that I haven’t met your friends.” He paused again briefly before
addressing Brock Truscott’s wife. “I’m Detective Max Ford,” he continued. “And
you are…”

The slinky blonde pressed her lips
into a phony smile. “Not interested in meeting any strangers this afternoon,”
she said coldly.

“That’s a pretty long name,” Ford
said confidently. “How do they fit all of that on your driver’s license?”

When Truscott’s wife realized he
wasn’t easily swayed or intimidated, she gave Ford her name. “Will you leave
now?” she added. “Or do you plan on being a pest all day?”

An easy smile appeared on Ford’s
face. “Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Grace Truscott.”

“I can’t say that I agree with
that,” Brock’s wife muttered.

While she glared daggers at him, Ford
glanced at Sonja’s brother. “And you, sir?”

Warren gulped nervously. “I’m her
brother,” he answered with a quick nod at Sonja. “Name’s Warren Davis.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Davis,” Ford
said. “I actually had you on my list for later in the day.”

Warren smirked. “What list?”

“People I’d like to talk to,”
answered the detective. “You see, I’m investigating an incident that took place
on Saturday afternoon. You were mentioned as a person of interest, so I—”

“The only thing he’s interested in
is laziness,” Eve snapped. “That’s what we’re all doing here—trying to get this
lump of lard to actually follow through on his promises.”

Ford’s grin vanished. “What did he
promise you?”

“It’s nothing really,” Eve said.
“At least, it’s nothing that a detective would care to know.”

“Try me,” said Ford. “I’m
interested in lots of different things.”

The tone of the conversation was
making me uncomfortable. Just watching Ford banter with the three reluctant
subjects in the booth made me feel uneasy. When I glanced over at Sonja, I
could tell from the way she was nibbling on her lower lip that she felt equally
on edge.

“Can I ask you a question,
detective?” Eve said.

Ford nodded. “Absolutely, ma’am.
What is it?”

“Do you have a point?” Eve smiled
at Sonja and me. “Or is all of this just to impress these two idiots?”

In a flash, I no longer felt jumpy.
I was suddenly very calm and composed as Ford’s body language shifted from
relaxed and even-tempered to commanding and powerful. His shoulders looked
broader, he seemed taller than before and the look in eyes blended precision
with authority.

Waiting for Ford to respond, it
felt like time had slowed to a crawl. As I glanced around the room, I saw two
uniformed officers standing near the bar. While the other patrons in Rusty
Red’s didn’t seem very curious about the strange confrontation between Detective
Ford and the three occupants of the booth, the two cops were watching intently.

“You know what, Mrs. Walker?” Ford
said finally. “I actually
do
have a point.”

Eve fluttered her eyelashes. “Do
tell,” she purred.

“I’d like to invite the three of
you to the station so we can talk in a more private setting,” Ford said.