Death of a Chocoholic (13 page)

As she rushed to the office after calling Sergio, Hayley realized that during all the commotion after the shooting, she had failed to nail down the identity of Cody's secret paramour. He certainly wasn't talking about his red-hot affair, despite Hayley's threats to expose the affair to his unbalanced other half. And he was probably reasonably confident, given what happened at the shore path, that Hayley would steer clear of his batty, gun-toting wife.

There was always e-mail.

At this point Kerry Donovan was completely convinced Hayley was the other woman, so it would be a challenge convincing her otherwise.

Hayley arrived at the
Island Times
over an hour late. She shed her coat and quietly made a beeline for her desk, but she wasn't fast enough.

Sal charged out from the back bull pen to the front office. He was so incensed that Hayley could almost see smoke coming out of his ears, like some Looney Tunes character who ate a burrito with too much hot sauce.

“Hayley, I told you to investigate Bessie Winthrop's death on your own time! So now you owe me an extra hour's work!” Sal bellowed.

“I'm only late because I've been working on a
huge
crime story for Bruce's column,” Hayley said.

“What huge crime story?”

“A local shooting.”

“What? Why didn't you say so?”

“You didn't give me a chance.”

“Who got shot?”

“Me. Well, as you can see, I didn't get shot. The gunman didn't have very good aim.”

“You? Why am I not surprised?”

“That's exactly what Sergio said. Why does everybody think I attract trouble?”

Sal opened his mouth to respond, but Hayley held a hand up, stopping him. “Don't answer that.”

“Any info on the shooter?”

Hayley nodded. “Cody Donovan's wife. Honestly, I don't think she was out to hurt us. I think she just wanted to scare us.”

“I was with Cody at the time.”

“I see.”

Hayley looked at Sal's face.

Smug.

Full of judgment.

“No, Sal. I am
not
fooling around with Cody Donovan!”

“Apparently, his wife seems to think so.”

“Well, she's wrong! There is
nothing
going on between us!”

“So what were you doing with him?”

Hayley took a deep breath. “I was questioning him for a story.”

“What story?”

Checkmate.

He would find out eventually.

“Bessie Winthrop's death.”

Sal folded his beefy arms and smiled. “You owe me an hour's work.”

“But, Sal—”

“Just because another crime just happened to occur while you were working on the Bessie story doesn't get you off the hook. Where's Mrs. Donovan now?”

“I'm assuming she's handcuffed and in the back of Sergio's cruiser. He was heading over to arrest her after I called him twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay, write it up. I want it posted online before the
Herald
scoops us. I'm sure they've already heard about it on the police scanner.”

Hayley fired up her desktop computer and began to type furiously as the door to the office swung open. A statuesque, elegant woman in her early fifties swept inside.

It was Eliza Richards.

The mayor of Bar Harbor.

“Hello, Hayley. You ready, Sal?”

Sal nodded, a goofy grin on his face.

His crush on her was painfully obvious.

“We're just doing a quick interview over b-breakfast,” Sal stammered.

“You don't have to explain anything to me, Sal. I'm not your wife,” Hayley said, smiling as she watched Sal squirm a little. It was as if he was afraid she could see the impure thoughts pulsing through his brain.

“I just don't want people talking about us,” Sal said, laughing, and then quickly stopping himself so he didn't sound like an idiot.

Too late.

“I'm sure you're in the clear, Sal,” Hayley said. “You look lovely today, Mayor Richards.”

“Why, thank you, Hayley,” the mayor giggled, touching her hair to make sure every strand was in its proper place.

Mayor Richards was indeed a classy broad, a fashion plate with an impeccable style that most women in town looked up to and admired.

Except for Liddy, who refused to be impressed, given the fact she saw herself as the number one clotheshorse in town. That was why she refused to vote for Mayor Richards.

Sal couldn't help himself. He had to explain everything in case this little midmorning confab was misconstrued and got back to his wife. “We're going to the coffee shop across the street. I want to ask the mayor some questions about her efforts to overhaul the town's parking spaces and make them diagonal so the streets can accommodate more vehicles, given the fact over a million tourists pour into town every summer!”

“Thank you for that detailed rundown of your agenda at the coffee shop, Sal,” Hayley said, teasing him.

“The old-school city council members are fighting it, of course,” the mayor said. “They want to veto any change! But change is good. I just need to get the public on my side, especially the ones with local businesses who depend on a lot of tourists showing up every year.”

Hayley noticed a little spittle glistening on the sides of Sal's mouth.

He was literally drooling.

Sal cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. “Well, we better be going.”

Hayley stood up from her desk, noticing a beautiful and bedazzling bracelet on the mayor's wrist. “Oh, that's gorgeous.”

“Isn't it?” the mayor cooed, glancing over to Sal, who nodded vigorously, like a bashful, horny teenage boy.

“What is that? Some kind of flower?” Hayley asked, pointing to the center of the bracelet.

“It's a gold poppy bangle. A one of a kind. Made specially for me by a jeweler in France I met while on holiday there a few years ago.”

“It's very unique.”

And yet very familiar.

Hayley was sure she had seen it before.

And then it hit her.

Like a ton of bricks.

Gold poppy bangle.

Hayley let go of the mayor's hand and casually came around her desk and reached into her bag, which was hanging on the coatrack by its strap. She covertly pulled out the photos she had printed off Bessie's phone and studied them for a moment.

The mysterious, unseen woman in bed with Cody was wearing the exact same bracelet.

She glanced over at the bracelet the mayor was wearing.

Gold poppy bangle.

Polished band of sterling silver.

One of a kind.

The other woman Cody was sleeping with was the mayor of Bar Harbor.

Sal came up behind Hayley, reaching for his winter jacket and bumped into Hayley. She fell forward, grabbing the coatrack to steady herself, and dropped the pictures. They scattered across the floor.

Most of them faceup.

Hayley pounced on them and frantically began scooping them up, but she just wasn't fast enough.

The mayor stared at the photos.

Her face frozen.

There was no mistaking what they were.

And who was in them.

Sal was too busy struggling into his coat to notice.

Mayor Richards calmly turned to Sal as Hayley stuffed the photos back inside her bag. “Do you mind if I meet you at the coffee shop? I have some business to take care of first.”

“Sure. I'll order you an English breakfast tea with honey. I know how you like that with your poppy seed lemon muffin,” Sal said, winking at the mayor as he shuffled out the door.

The second the door shut, the mayor swung around to face Hayley. “Please, Hayley, I'm begging you. Please don't tell anyone. I'm up for reelection in November.”

“I'm not out to create a scandal. I just—”

“I don't know where you got those, but, trust me, it was a brief affair. Nothing consequential. A mindless fling. One I regret with all my heart. It's over, and I promise I will never stray again.”

“That's nice, but I'm not interested in exposing—”

“My husband is a good man. He loves me. Our thirtieth wedding anniversary is around the corner. If he were ever to find out—”

“Mayor Richards, you have to believe, I don't plan on saying anything to anyone. If you are up front and honest with me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I be?”

“Well, you are sneaking around behind your husband's back. And then there is the fact that you are a politician.”

Mayor Richards grimaced.

“I have to ask. Did you have anything to do with Bessie Winthrop's death?”

“Bessie? I thought she died of a heart attack. Isn't that what the papers said?”

“Yes, but I happen to think there is more to the story, and you're smack in the middle of it.”

“I barely knew Bessie. Why would I do anything to harm her? Good Lord, Hayley, I went to Brown. I did time in the Peace Corps. I support our troops. How can you even insinuate I would do anything so insidious? How could anyone think that?”

The mayor was speaking passionately, but her eyes were telling a different story.

She was scared.

Worried.

Purposefully vague.

“Because Bessie was the one who took these pictures,” Hayley said. “And I get the feeling you're not being forthright with me about barely knowing her.”

“It's true. I knew her name, but we hardly spoke,” the mayor said, eyes downcast, “until Cody told me she was blackmailing him. I was shocked. I had no idea she had been following us around. But it didn't matter that Cody was sleeping with the mayor of Bar Harbor. She was only interested in him approving her bank loan. I begged Cody to give her anything she wanted, but he was resistant. So I went to her house to offer her money for her business if she gave her assurances that my name would never be dragged into a scandal.”

“So you were going to bribe her into keeping quiet about the affair?”

“When you put it that way, it sounds so unseemly. But I suppose you're right.”

“Did Bessie agree?”

“I never had the chance to make my offer. When I pulled up in front of her house, she was on the front lawn talking to someone else.”

“Who is it she was talking to?”

“I forget his name, but he didn't look happy. He was shouting at her. It was getting very heated. I don't know what happened after that, because I was afraid they would see me, so I drove away.”

“So you know the man?”

“Yes. The vet. I can't remember his name. I don't keep pets.”

“Dr. Winston?”

“No. I know Dr. Winston. He's been around for years. We served on the school board together. No, it was the new one—the one who replaced Dr. Winston.”

“Dr. Palmer?”

“Yes, that's the one. It was him. Dr. Palmer.”

“Oh, Hayley, I'm so sorry. I was really hoping it would work out with him, “ Liddy said, sipping her piping-hot Baileys Irish Cream and coffee.

“It was pretty much over at the Hayseed Ball,” Hayley said.

“So the cute doctor is a brutal killer. Gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming,” Mona said, chugging her beer.

The three of them were sitting side by side on stools at Drinks Like A Fish. Hayley met her two besties for cocktails after she got off work, which was an hour later than usual, since she had to put in that extra time for being late.

“Mayor Richards just saw them talking,” Hayley said. “Maybe he was making a house call. Bessie had something like seventeen cats.”

“Don't try putting a positive spin on it. He killed her,” Mona said, slamming her Coors Light down on the bar and waving at Michelle, the bartender, to fetch her another.

“You don't know that,” Hayley said.

“Mona's right. It's always the handsome, flawless, square-jawed, heroic-looking romantic interest whom no one suspects. You gotta have the twist ending!” Liddy cried.

“So, what should I do?”

“I have an idea,” Liddy said, spinning around on her stool to face her friends.

“I never like it when Liddy has one of her big ideas,” Mona replied, groaning.

“Too bad, Mona. Because it involves you and that scruffy, ungroomed mutt of yours, Bagpipes.”

“Bagley. His name is Bagley, and he's not a mutt. He's a komondor,” Mona retorted.

“Who cares? That Hungarian shepherd dog with the chronic flea problem, which is the chief reason, by the way, I never step foot inside your house,” Liddy said. “Well, that and the fact you have a bazillion kids and there is bound to be head lice.”

“Get to the point, Liddy.”

“I say we swing by Mona's house and pick up her dog, and then show up at Dr. Palmer's office to see if he has a cream or a spray or something he can prescribe to alleviate poor Bagpipes' itchiness.”

“Bagley,” Mona said through gritted teeth.

“Hayley already has used Leroy and Blueberry as decoys,” Liddy said, ignoring her. “If they show up again, it's bound to arouse suspicion. We'll have to use Bagpipes. Just keep him away from me. God knows what else is living underneath that mangy coat of fur.”

“Bagley!” Mona shrieked. “And it's an awful idea!”

“No, it just might work,” Hayley said, her mind racing.

“Two against one,” Mona groused. “It's always two against one.”

Within twenty minutes Mona was carrying Bagley underneath her arm, depositing the dog on top of the reception desk at Dr. Palmer's clinic. Hayley and Liddy hung back by the door to the waiting area as Mona slowly explained why her dog needed to be examined.

Marla Heasley, Dr. Palmer's perky assistant, scratched Bagley's head. “Fleas, huh? Well, the doctor is out right now, and I'm not sure when he will be back.”

“As you can see, the poor thing is very distressed from all the itching and scratching,” Mona said.

Bagley licked Marla's face, panting, smiling, jowls flapping.

“I think he's handling the discomfort just fine,” Marla said, not the least bit suspicious, “but let me take him in the back until the doctor returns. In the meantime you can fill out some paperwork. Come with me, Bagley.”

Marla led Bagley out through a door into another room in the back of the clinic. The happy dog trotted loyally behind her, tail wagging.

“Why doesn't he obey
me
like that?” Mona asked, perusing the papers.

“What is it with her and animals? They all seem to love her. Frankly, I don't see it,” Hayley said, annoyed.

“If she comes back, Mona, give us a signal,” Liddy said, pretending she was in a John le Carré novel.

“Like what? Smoke signals?”

Liddy sighed. “Just text me from your phone, okay?”

“Liddy, I'm not so sure this is a good idea . . . ,” Hayley said.

Liddy grabbed Hayley by the hand and dragged her into Dr. Palmer's office, which was to the right of the reception area in the opposite direction from where Marla escorted Bagley.

They looked around before setting their sights on the desktop computer with a large, flat-screen monitor.

Liddy sat down and began clicking on all the files.

“Liddy, I have a bad feeling about this—”

“Would you relax? We're not going to get caught. Now where should I start first?”

“Marla keeps a detailed calendar of all the doctor's appointments. Maybe we can see if he met Bessie more than just that one time.”

Liddy nodded and opened the calendar program. She scrolled down the days, the weeks, the months.

“Look at all the times he went to the gym. At least we've solved ‘The Mystery of the Six-Pack Abs,'” Liddy said, impressed.

Hayley pulled the keyboard away from Liddy and typed Bessie into the search engine of the calendar program.

“He met with Bessie on three occasions. And look at what he typed in the notes column from the meeting. ‘Last warning.' What was he warning her about?”

“Beats me. But Mr. Perfect is hiding something. I can feel it,” Liddy said.

Hayley heard a buzzing sound. “What's that?”

“What?”

Another buzzing sound.

“Don't you hear that?”

“Oh, it's just my phone,” Liddy said. “We're in the middle of a spy operation here. Whoever it is, I can call that person back.”

“But didn't you tell Mona to text you if something was wrong?”

Liddy gulped, suddenly realizing that, and grabbed the phone out of her pocket.

She read the text.

“What does it say?”

“He's back.”

“Dr. Palmer?”

Liddy nodded.

“We have to get out of here before he comes in and finds us.”

“Too late,” Liddy mouthed to Hayley.

Hayley pivoted to see Dr. Palmer standing in the doorway.

He did not look happy to see them.