Engaged in Murder (Perfect Proposals Mystery) (15 page)

Felicity finally fell asleep, leaving me to stare at the ceiling and listen to her breathing. I was still humming from the success of my first paying event.

I went over everything that had happened from start to finish. Gage had really come through with the movie props. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t had the sunken ship and the other things I’d rented.

My heart warmed at the memory of standing with Gage and watching the workmen together. I thought about what he said about breaking up with Emma and I realized that I was happy he’d broken up with her.

That thought made me sit up. What? I was happy Gage wasn’t dating Emma? No, no, I was happy he wasn’t dating anyone. I hugged my knees and remembered how good he smelled. How nice it was to share my ideas with him. How he’d been so interested in everything, while Bobby never cared about anything I did that didn’t have something to do with him. Even then Bobby just usually complained about everything anyway.

Gage, on the other hand, always complimented me . . . Wait! Was he attracted to me? Was that why he was so upset when I said I’d help him get back together with his girlfriend? I hit my forehead with my palm. “Stupid, stupid!”

Felicity mumbled something at my outburst and rolled onto her side, facing away from me. I fell back into the bed. What if Gage was attracted to me? What if we dated? The idea appealed, but then there was still Bobby. Poor Bobby, who didn’t understand that when I said we were over, we were over. I tested the thought instinctively like you worry a painful tooth. The memory of finding out about Bobby cheating on me with Cindy helped me see that I was truly over him. Even sad and sorry Bobby couldn’t generate enough pity to make me change my mind. I smiled to the darkness. I really, truly was free.

I flipped onto my stomach. Wait, would it be okay to date Gage with him and Bobby being friends? Ugh. I pulled the pillow over my head. I needed sleep. Surely the whole “Gage attracted to me” thing was only a crazy-can’t-sleep thought anyway . . . unless it wasn’t.

*   *   *

The next day the press had moved on to the next big news story. It would be weeks before Warren had his court date. That gave Warren and his lawyers plenty of time to figure out what to do next.

Felicity and I had said good-bye to Aunt Betty after we finished the breakfast dishes. Then I’d driven my sister over to Warren’s apartment.

“There are odd things going on at the airport,” Warren said as he poured us coffee. “I don’t like it.” He handed us thick mugs of the hot brew. Then pulled out a chair and sat down at his kitchen table with us.

Warren’s downtown loft was twice the size of a normal apartment. I remember Felicity telling me about it when they first started dating. She had said that Warren had gotten a great deal when the original owner had gone bankrupt. But if you looked very close, Warren’s furniture and accessories were all high-end. The kind of expensive antiques that could seem like flea market finds to the untrained eye. Even the mug in my hand matched white dishes I’d seen in a boutique on State Street.

“Things going on at the airport? What kind of things?” I asked. The coffee was good. Now that I knew the real Warren, I could see how he wore his wealth with an effortless comfort.

“I’ve been looking at the accounting books. There’s money missing. Whoever is taking it is good. Only a real accountant would notice.”

“Warren loves accounting.” Felicity glanced my way. “He’s a genius at it.”

Felicity only had eyes for Warren. I felt a bit embarrassed that I’d never felt that way about Bobby. Boy, was I a fool.

“Wow, that takes some guts to embezzle in the middle of a police investigation.” I tapped my fingers along the porcelain side of my cup.

“Whoever is doing this is good.” Warren reached out and took Felicity’s hand. “There have been small thefts here and there.”

“Like what?” I drew my eyebrows together.

“Things are missing out of luggage. Small but expensive things have disappeared from the hangars. I can’t tell if they are doing this in the middle of the investigation due to arrogance or if they are attempting to distract the police with these small incidents.”

“You should call Detective Murphy.” Felicity pressed her hands to his. “They need to know what’s going on.”

Warren frowned and shook his head. “I can’t. It would look as if I were attempting to influence the case. Besides, my lawyer says I’m not to talk to anyone without him or his partners present. It’s too easy for the prosecutor to twist my words.”

“I have to agree,” I said. “Listen, I’ve made a few connections at the airport. Let me see what I can find out.”

“I’d help you,” Warren said. “But I can’t be seen anywhere near the investigation.”

“Pepper will do it,” Felicity said. “Won’t you, Pepper?”

“I’ll do my best.” I patted Warren’s arm. “I know Detective Murphy has his own agenda but he seems to really care about finding the truth. If I can find a connection between these thefts and Randy’s murder, he’ll listen.”

“I hope so,” Warren said. “I hate having to rely on others to solve my problems.”

“But this is not a problem you created,” Felicity said.

“Plus we are practically family,” I added. “Family helps each other out. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Warren shook his head and smiled ruefully. “I am the luckiest man alive.”

*   *   *

I put on my best manners and went to see Detective Murphy. “Hi, Officer Truant,” I said as I approached the front desk.

Officer Truant squinted his blue eyes at me. “We had a lock installed on the door to the back,” he informed me. “You can’t get in unless I push the Open button.”

“Okay.” I placed the pink bakery box on the counter in front of him. “I came to apologize for my bad behavior.”

“What’s this?” He eyed the box suspiciously.

“It’s assorted treats from Deerfields Bakery—my way of apologizing.”

He opened the box with a great deal of caution. I guess I couldn’t blame him. I had been a little unreasonable the last time I was in the police station. It was definitely time to change tactics. His face lit up at the sight of the chocolate, chocolate peanut butter, and marshmallow bacon cupcakes.

Then I watched as his expression turned from amazement back to suspicion. “What do you want?”

Okay, so cops didn’t bribe as easily as Jimmy. I clasped my hands behind my back. “I would like to see Detective Murphy, please. I want to apologize to him as well.”

“You could have called.”

I winced. “I really needed to do it in person.” I tilted my head. “But I understand if he doesn’t want to see me.”

Office Truant took the box and put it on the counter beside him. “I’ll call him.”

“Thank you.” I purposely stepped away from the desk. There were a few chairs in the foyer. I sat down in the farthest one. The only way to prove I had changed was to act as if I truly had. Which meant I could not hover over Officer Truant or stand next to the door as if I’d push through at the first opportunity.

I listened as he spoke low. I couldn’t tell if what he said was good or bad. Turning my face away from him, I noted how few cars were parked in front of the building. I couldn’t imagine they got many visitors here. I glanced back at Officer Truant. His bald head and broad facial features exuded confidence and safety. These men and women dealt with a lot of people in distress. I’m not certain I had appreciated that. Like most people, I took the presence of the police for granted.

Right now, I was happy to know that there were good officers of the law between me and the bad guy.

“You’re lucky, Ms. Pomeroy,” he said as he hung up. I stood and stepped back up to the desk. “He’ll see you.” The door buzzed. “Go on back.”

“Thank you!” I hurried through the door before he changed his mind.

Detective Murphy sat at his desk doing paperwork. Today he wore a white dress shirt, and a blue and red striped tie. I noted the plain gold band on his finger and for the first time wondered how long he’d been a widower and if he ever took the band off. He must have really loved his wife. I bet they were a great family. I know he’d mentioned how I reminded him of his daughter. I assumed that was a compliment.

“Thanks for seeing me,” I said as I approached. Standing, I waited for him to offer me a seat.

“Truant tells me you want to apologize.”

I clutched my purse. “I do. May I sit?”

He waved his hand toward the plastic chair next to his desk. I sat and waited for him to look at me. It was disconcerting that he hadn’t even looked up since I came into the room.

While I waited, I became aware of my surroundings. There was plenty of activity. The large open room was divided into several cubicles with more than one person per cube. Phones rang. Someone argued in a loud voice while someone else laughed across the room. There was the sound of fax machines and printers. It smelled manly, of stale coffee, aftershave, and hard work—both mental and physical.

There was a row of plastic chairs up against the far wall. Two young boys with baggy pants and oversized shirts leaned back in their chairs looking defiant.

“All right, I’m listening.” Detective Murphy put down his pen.

“I’m sorry I stormed in here the other day and yelled at you. I realize you are a busy man with years of experience and I’m only a self-employed event planner. You know far more than I do about investigating murders and the proper procedures of the law.”

He studied me for a moment. “And?”

Oh, good lord, he sounded like my father. Thank goodness I had a lifetime of experience at making a proper apology. “I will do my utmost best not to ever do that again.”

“Good.”

“But I am a redhead and sometimes my emotions get the best of me.”

“I know.” He lowered his chin and looked at me over his reading glasses. “That’s why I had them install the lock on the door.”

The heat of a blush pushed up from my chest straight into my cheeks. “Okay. I guess I deserve that. As long as we understand each other, we’re good.”

“We do.” He nodded and sat back. “Is that all, Pepper?”

I tilted my head. “Um, no. I spoke to Warren this morning. He says that there have been thefts at the airport lately.”

“I’m aware of the thefts.” He nodded.

“He also said he’s pretty sure there’s been money missing in the accounting books since Randy’s murder.”

That got Detective Murphy’s attention. “How much?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Warren didn’t want to say until he dug deeper. He did say that whoever is doing it is good at hiding it. It might be a while until he can track it down.”

“I’ve got a forensic accounting staff member,” he said. “I’ll send them to Mr. Evans if he’s really interested in looking into it.”

“Thank you, I’ll let him know. Do you have a card for this person so Warren can tell his attorney?”

“Yeah.” Detective Murphy reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a card. “If he really thinks this is going to help his case, I’d suggest he doesn’t drag his feet.”

“Thanks.” I took the card. “Again, I’m sorry about my past outburst. You see, Warren is the one who suggested I start my Perfect Proposal business. He’s been so kind to help me with my business plan and he’s offered to be a silent partner.” I raised my hand to stop Detective Murphy from speaking. “Before you say anything, I need you to know that I believe Warren is doing it out of kindness and good business sense. I see the way he treats Felicity. He loves her. I simply can’t believe someone this kind and caring would murder someone. I don’t know what proof you have—”

“And I can’t share.”

“I understand. I’m simply letting you know that I realize my feelings may have colored my perception of the issues in this case.” I stood. “I’ll try to be more objective in the future.”

Detective Murphy studied me a moment. “I believe you will.”

“Have you interviewed everyone who was at the hangar that day? I know you were waiting on a few people who went on vacation.”

“Everyone has been interviewed, Pepper, and they all have alibis. That’s why we arrested Warren.”

“What about the evidence on my tape?” I asked. “Did you check into that?”

Murphy rested his elbows on his desk—his eyebrows pulled together slightly, his mouth flat. “I watched the video, and frankly I didn’t see anything suspicious. And—” He interrupted me as I took a breath to argue. “No laws were broken. Besides, the flight attendant’s alibi is tight. Pepper, it doesn’t make any sense to spend limited resources pursuing imagined possibilities.”

He sat back and his chair creaked. “We have a golden rule in police work. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s most likely a duck. Do you get my drift?”

“Yes.” I swallowed. “Is it okay if I spend my limited resources pursuing possibilities both real and imagined?”

“Let me give you two pieces of advice. One, never ever break the law. It doesn’t do anything but make you a criminal. That means breaking and entering and anything else that you know is wrong.”

“Okay.” I had to work to relax my fingers. I’d clutched my hands together until my knuckles were white.

“Two, let me know the minute you discover anything criminal in nature. Do you understand? Don’t be a hero. If you see a crime, call 911. Deal?”