Fatal Feng Shui (20 page)

I had no response. “So you and Rebecca are still dating?”

He ignored my question and opened his van door. “Now that I know you’ve got this under control, I’d better get going to the Kahns’ house.”

“And I’m going to stop by Crestview Windows and get some prices on their bays.”

Sullivan drove off. I watched as a biker in a black leather jacket headed down the hill, his engine noisy. To my surprise, he pulled up right beside me. He cut his loud engine and asked, “Is Antonio Scollotti here?”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name. The owner of the house is home, though…Michael Young?”

“Nah, Antonio might be working here. Doing that feng shui stuff for the wife.”

Antonio?
“A man named Ang Chung used to do feng shui consultations here. Is that who you mean?”

“Yeah, that’s gotta be him.” He laughed and shook his head. “So he’s calling himself by a Chinese name now? Should’ve guessed as much. He’s one crazy dude.”

“How do you know Antonio, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“We were cell mates. At the Crestview County Jail. S’pose that freaks you out, though…talking to an ex-con and all.” He gave me a lopsided grin.

“No, my brother spent some time in jail.”

“Oh, yeah? He doin’ okay now?”

I shook my head. “He died recently.”

“Oh, hey, lady. Taylor Duncan was your brother?”

“Yes. Did you know him?”

“Antonio told me he was working here, too, as a carpenter. He was in the Crestview jail the same time we were.”

chapter 22

T
aylor and Ang—Antonio, rather—knew each other
from when they were in
jail
?”

He frowned. “Ain’t like we were all pals or nothing, but yeah.”

“Neither of them mentioned their having met before.”

“Jail ain’t like high school, lady. Not a lot of good times, you know?”

“Sure, but…” I was about to say that I was surprised Taylor hadn’t at least told me that Ang was working here under a false identity; Taylor must not have wanted to delve into any topic that would have prolonged our discussion about his jail time. In any case, the fact that Ang had a criminal past made Ang/Antonio all that stronger a suspect. “Have you checked to see if Antonio is in his office?”

“Yeah. He wasn’t there. Or in his pad.”

“What’s his home address?”

His expression turned icy. “Seems to have slipped my mind. Sorry.” He started up his noisy engine and took off.

Damn it! I hadn’t even learned the man’s name.

Later that day, I skipped lunch and took a client to the
Denver Design Center to look at area rugs and draperies. The spectacular silk items we’d selected would complete her master bedroom makeover in fabulous style. Sullivan called my cell phone just after I’d dropped her off at her home. “Our schedule’s gotten out of hand. Where are you right now?” he asked.

“Northeast Crestview,” I replied. “I just finished with the Smiths for today and was about to head to the office to meet with the reps from that tile company.”

“I’ll handle that solo. Can you swing over to Pate Hamlin’s instead, since you’re already in the general area?”

That was an odd request. “I guess so. Why? What does Pate want?”

“Dunno. Never talked to him. Rebecca arranged this. Said it’d just take ten minutes or so. I was supposed to be there five minutes ago, but I’m still clear across town. You’re fifteen minutes closer than I am.”

“Will do,” I said, grinning. Rebecca was going to be severely disappointed at having me show up in Sullivan’s place.

The drive took me ten minutes, which meant I was fifteen minutes late for Sullivan’s ten-minute consult. I rang Pate’s doorbell, then turned to gaze across the street. From this vantage point I could fully appreciate how much better Michael’s house was looking. The police cordoning was gone. The roof had been replaced, and the damage from the bulldozer had been repaired. Maybe its feng shui curse had, at long last, lifted. Just in time for him to put the property on the market.

The footfalls on the other side of the door sounded decidedly feminine—like stilettos. Rebecca Berringer answered. She had apparently spruced herself up for this appointment and was now dressed to the nines. Her face fell. The reaction made my smile all the wider.

With obvious reluctance, Rebecca opened the glass outer door for me. “Hi, Erin. Rumor has it that you’re nearly done across the street.”

“As rumors go, that’s not exactly A-list material, but yes, we’re making progress.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “So. Where’s Steve?”

“He’s still downtown. He got hung up at a client’s house.”

“
He’s
the one we wanted to talk to.”

“And yet
I’m
the one who’s here.”

“Well. This will be awkward, then. But quick. Could you please tell him that Pate is considering hiring him as my co-designer?” She grabbed the doorknob as though primed to shut the door in my face.

“You can’t be serious, Rebecca.”

“Oh, I am, Erin. Very serious.”

“But Pate isn’t even
keeping
this house, is he? Isn’t he going to raze it for BaseMart or his condo development?”

“Not for another couple of years. And he wants to live in luxury in the meantime.”

“But…why would you suddenly need a partner? You can’t handle the work here?”

She ratcheted up her already haughty expression by arching an eyebrow. “That’s called success, my dear.”

It was all I could do to keep myself from slapping her silly.

“You see, Erin, I was discussing with my client the fact that my show is such a huge success that I’m forever finding myself needing to be in two places at the same time. All the public appearances and so forth. Sharing my workload is the perfect solution, and Steve is virtually the only designer I could entrust my clients with.”

She was wearing a lovely cream-colored linen suit. If only I had a cup of coffee that I could accidentally spill on her! “Too bad that he’s already got a business partner, Rebecca, so there’s no way he’d ever agree to such a thing.”

She chuckled. “When the price is right, all sorts of complicated business strategies suddenly become feasible.” She glanced behind her shoulder into Pate’s home. “Such as, for example, ‘Sullivan and Gilbert’ becoming ‘Sullivan and Berringer.’”

“Seriously? You think you can just buy me out?”

“Not necessarily. More likely, I’ll just buy Sullivan away from you. That way you’ll get to revert to your little ‘Designs by Gilbert’ business.”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky about that stupid notion if I were you, Rebecca. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than one client to make Steve and me dissolve our partnership!”

“We’ll see about that, Erin. Just pass along the message, if you will? Thanks, dear.” She shut Pate’s door.

Livid, I drove straight to the office. Sullivan was already there, wrapping up the meeting with the tile sales representative. He was gracious enough to recap some of the highlights of his presentation for me before leaving. I pretended to be fascinated.

“How’d things go at Pate’s?” Sullivan asked me afterward.

“He wasn’t there. Or if he was, Rebecca was playing bodyguard and never gave me access. She claims that she and Pate want to hire you to partner with her on finishing up his house.”

He chuckled. “What’s the punch line here, Gilbert? She thinks we’re suddenly going to become Sullivan, Gilbert, and Berringer?”

“No, just Sullivan and Berringer.”

“Come on, Gilbert. Be serious.”

I spread my arms. “Those are her words, not mine. She claims she’s such a red-hot commodity with her TV show and too-numerous-to-count clients she needs a helper, and that you’re the only one she trusts. Again, that’s a direct quote.”

“Maybe she’s just messing with your head…trying to tick you off. No way would she actually believe I’d go for it.”

“Which is what I told her.
She,
however, was confident you’d kowtow, once she threw enough money at you.”

“Huh.” He rocked on his heels. “So how much money are we talking about here?”

“Sullivan!” I swatted his arm.

“Hey. I’m a designer slut. What can I say?” He grinned from ear to ear.

Audrey was puttering around in the kitchen when I arrived
that evening. She told me that she too had only recently gotten home—that everyone had been putting in extra hours at the TV station. We threw together a quick dinner: spinach salad, French bread, and pasta with some leftover chicken. Delicious! We joked about how wonderful it was that we were both “Domestic Goddesses.” Then we carried our glasses of Chardonnay into the parlor and chatted about silly things like the latest reality shows on TV. The doorbell rang, and Audrey went to the door.

“Hello, Tracy,” Audrey said. “Would you like to come in?” I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was as surprised by a visit from Tracy Osgood as I was.

“Just for a moment, if I may. Thank you.”

Tracy entered, giving me a sheepish smile.

“Hi, Tracy,” I said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I just came to tell y’all how very sorry I am about Shannon’s death.”

“Thanks,” I replied, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no way she’d come here in person just to offer her condolences for the loss of Audrey’s co-chair and my difficult client.

“Frankly, I didn’t know Shannon all that well, but I certainly admired her and will miss her,” Audrey said. “Have a seat, Tracy.” She gestured at the Sheridan chair adjacent to her own favorite seat—a gold damask wing chair with a regal, thronelike appearance. “I assume you have other business with us.”

Tracy perched on the seat and gave a tight-lipped nod. She seemed as edgy as a mouse who’d stumbled into a cat’s den. “Yes, I do. I also wanted to apologize to y’all for not being up-front about Pate being my ex-husband.”

“Yes, you should have told us about that from the start.”

“Why
didn’t
you?” I asked.

“I was too embarrassed. Here y’all were trying to save the town’s integrity. Whereas I just wanted to force Pate to stick the store someplace else…so that our divorce settlement would be more lucrative for me.”

“Which is why you didn’t appear on the scene till the city of Crestview had already voted to ban BaseMart within city limits,” Audrey surmised.

“’Fraid so. I’m the typical NIMBY—not in my backyard.”

“Where did Pate get the information for his No Big Boxes file?” I asked.

She looked at me with shocked, wounded eyes, as though I’d slapped her. “I have no earthly idea, Erin. I don’t know what he had in that file, let alone how he got his information. I had nothing to do with it.”

“But you obviously knew he
had
such a file.”

“Yes. Because Pate called me when he first realized someone had broken into his desk. He thought
I’d
stolen it. But do you mean to tell me you think
I
was spying on y’all? That I was
pretending
to be against BaseMart, just to infiltrate your campaign?”

I shrugged. “The documents from Pate’s office apparently turned up in Shannon’s file cabinet. And were doctored to make it look as though she’d been stealing from the organization.”

“I swear to y’all, I had nothing to do with any of that. Those books were a bit…disorganized when I got them from Shannon, but all the money was there and properly accounted for. And I can’t imagine why anyone would go to the trouble of fiddling with the books.”

Audrey explained: “To throw a monkey wrench into No Big Boxes, and to make it look like somebody believed that Shannon was stealing from the campaign coffers and therefore killed her.”

“The only person I can imagine framing somebody for her murder like that is Pate himself. Erin, I know he’s been asking you out. And, believe you me, that man can charm the socks off a kitty cat. But he’s so competitive that he loses his head. He’d sell his mama’s house right out from under her to get ahead.”

Was this an accurate assessment? Or merely a bitter divorcée talking?

Perhaps sensing my skepticism, Tracy frowned and stood. “There’s one other thing. I only found out the other day that the carpenter that got killed was your brother?”

“Yes. Taylor Duncan was my half brother.”

“As my rotten luck would have it, that Saturday was the one other time this entire month that I’ve been over to see Pate. Right around lunchtime? And…I saw him leaving Shannon’s house.”

I tensed. “Did you ask him about it?”

“He claimed that he was over there to talk to her and her husband, but that nobody answered the door.”

“That’s possible.”

“Except I saw him
shutting
the door. And…wiping his fingerprints off the knob.”

Audrey and I exchanged glances. That was probably when Pate had gone over to the house to swap out their building supplies, as he’d already admitted doing. But, even if so, why would he take the precaution of removing his fingerprints? “You suspect Pate killed Taylor?” I asked Tracy.

“I hope I’m wrong. I really do.”

“What did the police say when you told them?”

“They thanked me for the information.” She offered Audrey a wan smile and a quick apology “for barging in on you,” and abruptly turned to leave.

She’d raised my suspicions, and I said, “I’ll walk you to your car,” and followed her without giving her a chance to decline. “So, you told the police you’d seen Pate wiping off the doorknob, Tracy?” I pressed.

“Well, no, not exactly.”

“He might have wiped away the killer’s fingerprints,” I exclaimed. “Did you tell Pate you saw him?”

She shook her head. “He has a bad temper.”

“
I’ll
tell the police, then, Tracy,” I cried. “Somebody has to! You can’t conceal evidence like this!”

“Fine. But I’ll deny every word of this to the police when they ask me about it!”

“So why did you tell
me
? Why tell anyone?”

She pursed her lips and used her electronic key lock to open a forest-green Subaru Outback. “I wanted you to know exactly what you were dealing with, Erin. Pate’s attracted to you. But he’s also still steaming over how effective your speech to the town council was. If he realizes he isn’t going to get to first base with you, he’ll do a one-eighty. He’s going to destroy your business, and then he’s going to destroy your life. And, Erin, he has the money and power to do it. There’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

“If that’s true, what good does your warning do for me? I might as well give up and run.”

“Exactly, Erin.”

She continued to hold my gaze with an earnest expression. It all struck me as so absurd, I had to laugh. She was just trying to make me leave town! The woman might simply be one of those I-don’t-want-him-but-you-can’t-have-him types. “Once again, Tracy, thanks for stopping by.”

“I’m dead serious, Erin. It’s time for you to cover your losses and wave the white flag. Now. Before it’s too late.”

She drove away without saying good-bye. I mulled over the situation as I returned to the house. I explained to Audrey that I needed to make a couple of phone calls and went to my room. I dialed my friend Linda and reached her at the police station.

We chatted for a minute, then I asked, “Could I please treat you like my own private police officer for a few minutes and run some things by you?”

“What kind of things?”

“Oh, suspicious behavior and fishy timing from some people involved with both my brother and Shannon.”

She sighed. “In other words, you want me to be your go-between with O’Reilly.”

“That’s the blunt way of putting it. Though I can throw in ‘please’ a half-dozen times.”