Grounds for Murder (20 page)

‘Amy?’ I just let it hang there.

‘I know people talk about us,’ Levitt said, ‘but Amy is my AA sponsor.’

So that would mean that Amy was a recovering alcoholic as well. She seemed terribly young to have been through all that, but Eric had friends who seemed well on the road to addiction in high school. Even younger. ‘The argument you had with LaRoche?’

Levitt cracked a grin. ‘The one before his speech or the one afterwards?’

‘Before,’ I said, with an answering smile. ‘George said . . . I mean, I’ve been told LaRoche seemed to be telling you to stay away from Amy. Didn’t he know she was your sponsor?’

‘No,’ Levitt said. ‘We are supposed to keep those things private.’

‘Of course. That would be the “anonymous” part, wouldn’t it?’

‘It would,’ Levitt conceded kindly. ‘But even beyond that, I didn’t think it was any of LaRoche’s business.’

‘But then what was LaRoche’s beef with you? As you say, what business of his was it, even if he did think you and Amy were having an affair?’

Levitt shifted uncomfortably. ‘Quite honestly, his reaction took me completely by surprise. I don’t know what was behind it.’

‘And now we never will know,’ I said, thinking that Amy might be the only one who did. I stuck my head around the pillar. ‘Looks like we’re safe. Penny and the father of the bride are gone.’

‘Again, Maggy,’ Levitt said, stepping out from behind the pillar, ‘please accept my apologies.’ He stuck out his hand.

I took it. ‘Apology accepted. Assuming you’re back at meetings.’

‘I am. That’s where Amy took me last night. I have to say, it wasn’t where I wanted to go. But it was where I needed to be.’

‘I’m glad,’ I said. I was thinking how simple – and profound – that was. If only we all were that clear about where that place was. I was about to turn away, when I stopped. ‘Levitt?’

He looked up.

‘If you didn’t tell LaRoche, why did you tell me?’

‘You, I like.’ He smiled and walked away.

I had found Levitt when I was avoiding Penny. Now I found Jerome as I was avoiding Pavlik. The sheriff was striding toward the exhibit hall looking self-important. And handsome. I hated that.

But whether he was handsome or not, I wasn’t ready to talk to him after last night. Maybe I was punishing him for tricking me. More likely, I was punishing me for being so gullible. I ducked into the snack bar where I found Jerome sitting at a table and eating French fries.

‘Fast food before ten?’ I commented, taking the seat across from him. The ‘mom’ gene dies hard.

Jerome held up a fry for my inspection. ‘A perfectly fried potato should be enjoyed at any time.’ He rotated the fry. ‘Look at it: an impudent little fry, golden brown, perfectly salted, served at its peak.’

‘No ketchup?’

He gasped. ‘Please. Would you put ketchup on lobster?’

‘Actually, I did once,’ I admitted. ‘A long time ago, before I knew it was supposed to taste like that.’ I waved my gastronomical shortcomings away. ‘Listen, I saw you last night, but didn’t get a chance to talk to you. Is everything all right?’

‘Sure.’ Jerome was applying himself to the fries. ‘Some night, huh?’

‘Yup.’

When I didn’t say more, Jerome sat back in his chair. ‘You’re wondering what I’m going to do with the tape.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘I am.’ I hooked a fry. ‘I know you’re a journalist and have a responsibility both to your profession and to Kate, but I’d really hate to see people embarrassed.’

Jerome grabbed back his fry. ‘Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?’

‘Is it working?’

He shook his head. ‘No more than ketchup does on lobster.’

‘Actually,’ I said, grabbing another fry. ‘That wasn’t half bad. Same principle as cocktail sauce on shrimp.’

‘I suppose.’ He was quiet for second, then: ‘Listen, I’m the one who accidentally blew the whistle on you. That’s why I was avoiding you last night.’

‘You were avoiding me?’ Nice of me to notice.

Jerome squirmed. ‘I figure we’re friends.’ He lowered his voice. ‘The last thing I meant to do was implicate you in a murder.’

Of course. Pavlik had known that I was in the competition room the night of LaRoche’s murder. It’s the only reason he would have bothered with his little deception about the nonexistent camera. Someone must have told him. If I’d given it any thought, I would have pegged Kate as the whistleblower, thinking she’d seen me head that direction from the bar.

Now I realized Jerome could have seen me, too. Poor kid – probably thought I was going to the slammer. Couldn’t blame him for thinking that, though. I’d been of the same mind.

I was about to tell him that the timeline had cleared me, when Jerome ducked, his head nearly on the table. ‘It’s the sheriff,’ he hissed. ‘And he’s coming this way.’

Sure, enough, Pavlik was enroute with a soft drink in his hand.

‘Maybe he’s just looking for a place to sit,’ Jerome whispered hopefully.

‘Doubt it,’ I said, looking around. Except for us, the place was deserted. Snack bars that serve hot dogs, hamburgers, fries and hot pretzels, aren’t exactly breakfast hot-spots. ‘But don’t worry, it will be all right.’ I patted his hand.

Jerome stood up abruptly. ‘You run, I’ll divert him.’

I stayed where I was. ‘Really, Jerome, it’s fine.’

‘Excuse me.’ The sheriff was in town. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to talk to you, Ms Thorsen.’ He looked pointedly at Jerome. ‘Alone.’

I thought Jerome’s eyes were going to bug out of his head. ‘All right, well, then. I guess I’ll go . . .um . . .see you later, Maggy.’ He ran out of the snack bar.

Pavlik watched him go. ‘Should we be worried about that kid?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘He just thinks you’re going to arrest me for murder.’

‘And you’re so sure I’m not?’ Pavlik grabbed a fry from the box Jerome had left. ‘Cold.’ He tossed it back.

‘I figure you would have arrested me already, if you were going to. And besides -’ my eyes narrowed – ‘your little trick last night got you all the information you wanted.’

Pavlik laughed, and his eyes went all blue and sparkly. ‘Sorry, but you’re so easy. I couldn’t help myself.’

Apparently not so easy that he did help himself. At least I was no ‘Slut in a cup’.

‘Sarah said something similar the last time she tortured me,’ I said. ‘Glad I can bring you both such pleasure.’

He took my hand and turned it over, rubbing his thumb gently across the palm. ‘I plan to bring you even more pleasure, as soon as we both have time.’

‘Whe . . .’ I squeaked and had to clear my throat. ‘When might that be?’

‘As soon as I close this case,’ he said, taking out the damn notepad. ‘So what do you have for me?’

‘What do I have for you?’ I repeated, with the proper pronoun changes. ‘Maybe it’s time you shared a little information with me.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said agreeably as he thumbed through his notes. ‘Let’s see. How about the fact that Levitt Fredericks has an alibi? A questionable one, maybe, but an alibi nonetheless.’

‘What is it?’ I asked. Yesterday I would have thrown Levitt to the dogs to save myself. In fact, I had done just that. Now I only wanted to save him.

‘Your barista, Amy. She says they were together.’

‘She’s not my barista,’ I protested. ‘And why do you say Levitt’s alibi is questionable? You think Amy is lying?’

Pavlik rubbed his chin, which had a fine bit of stubble on it. And a mighty fine bit of stubble it was. ‘Your bartender was right – they’re romantically involved. If she loves him, she could be lying to give him an alibi.’

‘He’s not my bartender,’ I automatically corrected. ‘And Amy wouldn’t do that.’

I was thinking furiously. Levitt hadn’t told the sheriff that Amy was his AA sponsor. Since he hadn’t chosen to share that information, I certainly couldn’t.

Or shouldn’t. And probably wouldn’t.

‘You didn’t even know that she and Fredericks were an item,’ Pavlik was saying. ‘How well do you really know her?’

Truth was, I didn’t know Amy very well at all. In fact, before Caron had targeted her as a barista acquisition, Amy and I were casual smile-and-wave kind of acquaintances, at most.

Still, Levitt had entrusted me with some very personal information, about both him and Amy. I couldn’t betray that trust, but I also couldn’t let Pavlik go off in the wrong direction.

In other words, I couldn’t just shut up.

‘Listen,’ I said, ‘I can’t tell you why, but I’m almost certain that Amy is telling the truth.’

Pavlik squinted. ‘And why am I supposed to take that as gospel?’

‘You’re supposed to believe in me. That’s what the cop slash love interest does.’

‘Is that what I am?’ Pavlik asked. ‘The cop slash love interest?’ That glint in his eye was back again.

‘You would be if we ever had a moment to spend together. A date, even,’ I said irritably. ‘But for now you just have to have faith in me.’

‘Even though you don’t have enough in me to tell me what you know?’ he shot back.

‘That’s not fair,’ I protested. ‘I would tell you if I could.’

Pavlik stood up and tossed his untouched drink cup into the trash bin nearby. ‘Now do you understand why I told you there was a camera in that back hallway?’

‘No,’ I said, standing up, too. ‘I don’t.’

He touched my forehead gently, almost sadly. ‘You have all this information running around in your head, but you try to filter it. You know all these people – their comings and goings, their secrets. And you want to protect them.’

‘Just the good ones,’ I said softly.

‘Problem is, we don’t know which ones are the good guys, and which ones are the bad. I can help you figure that out, if you’ll trust me.’ He cupped my chin.

I was already teary-eyed and I started to feel that crushing heaviness that takes your breath away. ‘But if I tell you things in the wrong way, if I use the wrong words –’ I was having trouble getting any words out now – ‘you could arrest someone who is innocent.’

I wasn’t explaining this very well. I tried again. ‘It’s like in the doctor’s office. You say you have an earache and, before you finish talking, the doctor is writing out a prescription for an ear infection. He stops listening when he hears what he wants to hear.’

‘You’re saying I jump to conclusions?’ His eyes were stormy now.

‘No, no.’ I tried to take his hand, but he still held the notepad in it. ‘You play the percentages, Pavlik. And I understand that you have to.’

‘The percentage bets are usually right,’ he pointed out. ‘That’s why they’re percentage bets.’

‘I know that,’ I said. ‘And ninety-five percent of the time it is an ear infection. I just don’t want to be responsible for giving you the wrong information – the information that makes you stop listening.

‘I say affair, you suspect one person. Illegitimate child, another. Money troubles, another. It’s so easy to make judgments when you’re on the outside looking in. Things are not that simple. Life is just not that simple.’

Now I shut my mouth.

Too late. A vein was pulsing in Pavlik’s forehead. He started to say something and then stopped. He started to walk away and stopped that, too.

He turned back.

‘So, who’s the illegitimate kid?’

Chapter Twenty-one

OK, so I caved. Shoot me.

I told Pavlik everything.

Well, almost everything. The one thing I didn’t tell him was that Levitt and Amy were recovering – or in Levitt’s case, semi-recovering – alcoholics. I felt that Levitt had told me in confidence, and I wouldn’t break that. Not even for Pavlik.

But given that Davy was the only kid in the cast of characters, it hadn’t taken Pavlik a nanosecond to deduce he was the illegitimate one. Once that particular bean was spilled, I figured the more information I could give Pavlik the better. I’d haul in all the trees, and let him decide if they constituted a forest.

For the record, Pavlik didn’t quite buy the blue eye/brown eye thing. And the lactose intolerant part he just laughed at.

‘I don’t think gassy is one of the markers on a paternity test,’ he said.

‘I think you’re taking lactose intolerance a little too lightly, Sheriff,’ I said. ‘It can be debilitating.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

I ignored that. ‘Also, LaRoche was cross-eyed, which can be inherited. Davy is not.’

‘I think it depends on the cause,’ Pavlik said.

Details, details. ‘Well, eyes and intestinal disturbances aside, I’m willing to bet you’ll see the resemblance if you look for it.’

We were standing in the corner of the Grand Foyer nearest the door to the exhibit hall. I was hoping that Janalee would come in with Davy.

And stand next to Antonio.

And a little psychedelic lighting, like in my dream, couldn’t hurt either.

‘Even if you’re right,’ Pavlik was saying, ‘maybe LaRoche was shooting blanks, and he and Janalee used a sperm donor.’

‘Possible,’ I admitted. ‘But don’t you want to know for sure? If Antonio and Janalee had an affair, it opens a lot of possibilities.’

‘For the sake of argument,’ Pavlik said, leaning back against the wall, ‘if they had an affair and if Davy is Antonio’s baby, don’t you think LaRoche would have noticed the kid didn’t look like him?’

‘Please. LaRoche was so supremely self-centered, the only time he noticed Davy was when he played with his soldiers.’

As I spoke, I saw Sarah leave the exhibit hall at a full run. She went out the front revolving door, leaving it spinning in her wake.

‘Should I ask what “his soldiers” are?’ Pavlik said. ‘I think it might be indictable.’

I laughed, wondering what was up with Sarah’s abrupt departure. ‘LaRoche is . . . was a military buff. He has toy soldiers all over his office.’

Pavlik might have found my lactose intolerance theory lacking, but now he looked fascinated. ‘Toy soldiers? The lead ones? Those things are great.’

‘They looked like metal of some kind,’ I said hesitantly. I hadn’t touched the ones in LaRoche’s office, so I couldn’t be sure. ‘But why would they make a toy out of lead?’

‘These aren’t for kids.’ Pavlik looked astonished at the thought. Toys? For children?

‘Some are antiques,’ he continued, ‘and others are made as new collectibles.’