Knock on Wood (24 page)

twenty-nine

I couldn't exactly ask
Justin what his relationship with Alice was, although I'd seen them together enough to have the impression it was professional and mostly cordial.

I realized I probably was just grasping at proverbial straws, trying to find something to point fingers away from Gemma.

And the mayor? Was I giving up on him simply because it would be terribly difficult to point fingers at him?

I didn't think so. Pointing at a cop wouldn't be much easier.

I needed some proof.

I left the library soon afterward. I decided that obtaining printouts or even just mailing links of the helpful articles to myself might cause questions about why I'd looked them up, so I decided not to, at least for now.

But what should I do next?

I pondered that on my way back to the Lucky Dog to get Pluckie. The sidewalks were nearly empty now, although I saw fairly large crowds in the Shamrock Steakhouse and the Black Cat Inn's restaurant across the street, and a lesser one as I passed the Apple-A-Day Café. The Beware-of-Bubbles Coffee Shop was closed at this hour.

The answer, of course, was obvious, but I fought it internally. That was partially because I knew I should heed Justin's warnings about staying safe.

But logically? The only way I could get the information I sought was to talk to Alice Numa.

Then I figured out how.

Was I being foolish? Sure. But it was about time that we got some answers around here.

I still wasn't actually certain how Alice was involved, if at all, but I had my suspicions and hoped to learn the truth tonight.

And hopefully stay alive doing it.

“We'll be fine, Pluckie,” I told my little dog as I stood behind the counter at the Lucky Dog. And crossed my fingers, just in case that kind of thing worked.

Pluckie was loose, and she came over and stood on her hind legs, her front paws on my thighs as if she wanted to comfort me.

I appreciated it, and her. And hoped I wasn't lying.

I looked out the front window and saw that the usual Destiny old-fashioned streetlights were on, the sidewalks were nearly empty, and there were no cars cruising Destiny Boulevard that I saw. Then my eyes opened wide.

Barely visible in the dim light, a black cat walked along the sidewalk, crossing right in front of the store.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I turned away, ready to call Alice and tell her we'd talk some other time. But that was when a knock sounded on the glass, startling me—and it shouldn't have.

She was here. I didn't believe in ill omens anyway.

I drew in my breath, then gathered all the strength I needed to greet the detective. With Pluckie right beside me, I walked forward and opened the front door.

I glanced out again. I didn't see the cat any longer. I knew that Gemma and Stuart had headed back to the B&B without me. I'd told Gemma hours ago that I was going to the library at closing time and she shouldn't wait.

I hadn't checked, but Martha was probably upstairs asleep, or at least in bed watching TV. Although she helped often during the day at the store and also attended some Destiny events as long as someone was helping her, she never came downstairs at night.

Pluckie and I were virtually alone here with Alice.

And the black cat outside.

“Hello, Ms. Chasen,” the detective said, striding in. It may have been off-hours for her, but she wore her typical pantsuit, in charcoal this evening. Also typically, she wore a scowl. “So what do you want to talk about tonight?”

I smiled grimly. “I'm sure you can guess.” I thought about how, more than a week ago now, a door to the shop had opened unexpectedly, which Justin had said could be a harbinger of an unwelcome guest. Well, I'd invited Alice, yet I couldn't say she was exactly welcome.

“Your buddy Gemma and how she murdered Lou Landorf?” Her return grin looked much too amused.

Holding back the negative retort that sprang to my lips, I said, “How about if we sit down?”

She agreed, and I led her through the shop and its rows and shelves of pet superstition paraphernalia, through the mesh drapery decorated with decorative dog bone shapes, and into the back storeroom. There, I waved her toward one of the chairs at the card table in the center.

She complied without saying a word. She merely stared at me as I joined her. Our hips met as I moved too closely around her to get to the other side of the table. “Sorry,” I said.

Pluckie sat at my feet, and I bent to pet her while assuring myself I could handle this.

“Would you like a bottle of water?” I asked Alice next, delaying the inevitable.

“No thanks. And I can't stay all night.”

I didn't want her to. And in fact, there was good reason to get this party started. I needed to get it over with.

“Okay,” I finally said, my voice low and my eyes on hers, then down again toward Pluckie, who looked at me uncertainly and wagged her tail. “Here's what's been on my mind, and I wasn't sure who to talk to about it.” I paused, then said, “You might know that I've become friends with Chief Halbertson.”

“Just friends?” Alice's tone was scornful.

“Pretty much. I won't go into detail, but although I sometimes feel attracted to him I won't let it go any further.”

“Because of the guy whose death got you to come here?”

She knew about Warren walking under a ladder. Thanks to circumstances a while back, everyone who lived here probably did.

“That's right.” It wasn't entirely true, but I wasn't about to admit that. “Anyway, you probably also know I've been trying to figure out what really happened to Lou Landorf.”

“Right. Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong. Again.” She shifted back in her chair and started to look bored.

I figured I'd better kick it up a notch. I needed her full attention for what I was going to say.

“Some people might think that, but what I'm trying to do is protect my friend Gemma. I know she didn't kill Lou.”

“Right. You know that.” She shook her head disdainfully.

“Yes, I do. Especially now … because my snooping has given me suspicions of something else. Someone else.”

“Let me guess. Frank Shoreston. He's on everyone's list.” She again leaned toward me. “But I've talked to him probably more than anyone else after the director's murder. Yes, he's got a lot of resentment toward your friend Gemma and maybe thinks he can exact some revenge by keeping her in our radar. But what he's said makes a lot of sense.”

“Maybe. I assume it's because Gemma and Lou were arguing about how to run the Broken Mirror Bookstore. That argument would also work to indict Stuart Chanick or the owners, Nancy Tarzal or the Brownlings. Or all of them together. Or even Mayor Bevin since Lou and he argued a lot. But that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then what, Ms. Chasen, are you talking about?”

I bit my lower lip. “Not what, actually. Who.”

“Then—”

“Police Chief Halbertson,” I cut in.

That stopped her. Her deep brown eyes opened wide. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?” she demanded.

I hesitated. “I'm not completely sure. I guess … well, you know Justin better than I. Could he have been … upset when Lou started pushing harder to get answers about how that poor tourist died here a few weeks ago?”

“Lou wasn't only taking that out on Justin,” Alice reminded me. That was true. I'd heard him berate her too.

“I know. But, well, once again you know more than I do. I can tell you what I heard, though. A couple of years ago, Lou supposedly pushed Mayor Bevin to bring in someone from out of town to become police chief, stuck his neck out a bit when he insisted that Justin be hired. Employing someone who didn't absolutely believe in superstitions for an important job like that might have been bad luck for Destiny, but Lou ignored those warnings. Maybe he came to regret it and was angry and accusatory and all that.”

Alice looked a lot more interested now. “Then you think Justin's a good candidate for having murdered Lou Landorf?”

Murdered was a strong word, but it fit—although Justin didn't. Not in my genuine estimation, at least.

I knew that at least a few people had considered him a potential suspect in Tarzal's murder, but that had made even less sense than this situation.

I crossed my fingers under the card table, not only for luck but because I was lying. I hoped.

“Yes. I've been thinking about it a lot and believe Justin's a good candidate for having been the killer.”

Alice made a noise deep in her throat. “Interesting possibility.”

“I'm sure you've considered it,” I said, although I doubted it. Unless she had been thinking about a way to frame Justin for it if anyone suggested her as a likely suspect.

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged.

“If so, maybe he's been giving hints or pointing you and Detective Choye toward Gemma, maybe even planting ideas or evidence to frame her.”

She didn't say anything but appeared to be considering my idea.

“The thing is,” I continued. “Well, like I said, you know Justin a lot better than I do. And for a lot longer. You met him before, when he came to town for the job, maybe even earlier, when he interviewed. What did you think of him then?”

“Honestly? I thought there were others who were more qualified.”

Like you
, I thought. “Did you tell Mayor Bevin or P. A. Director Lou that?”

“Oh, yeah.” No hesitation there.

I hesitated now, since I was considering getting into an area that could turn into a dangerous quagmire if I weren't cautious. “I gather they didn't believe you, or at least didn't agree. Which is a shame. I had the impression, from the time he returned to town from his mission to attract tourists, that Lou and you were … good friends.” I was making some assumptions here and expected her to deny it. But I did recall some glances she'd leveled on the public affairs director.

She looked at me, and I shook a little inside, unsure what would happen next. “You could say that,” she finally responded, no inflection in her voice at all.

“So … well, how angry were you when he started berating not only Justin but you, too, for not finalizing the investigation into that tourist's death, blaming you for it?”

Okay. I'd done it. Said what was really on my mind, not just tiptoeing around the possibility of Justin being a viable suspect but making my real suspicions more apparent. Would she realize it right away? Or would she just consider it part of the conversation?

She was too smart for that. Her dark eyes flashed, and she stood immediately behind the table. The abrupt movement caused Pluckie to bark. I noticed again Alice's substantial build. At least I didn't believe she had a gun hidden beneath her suit jacket, unless it was well hidden. That was the reason I'd “accidentally” gotten too close to her before and bumped hips, but hadn't felt anything. She wasn't wearing her utility belt.

“Are you accusing me now, Ms. Chasen? Is that your plan—to point fingers at anyone and everyone to try to get eyes off your buddy Gemma?”

“Not just anyone,” I responded softly, touching Pluckie to comfort her—and to try to keep her near me and as safe as possible. “Only you.”

I froze, watching her reaction. She didn't laugh. She didn't yell. She just looked at me.

“Who have you told about your ridiculous suspicions?” she
demanded.

Only one person, actually, and I wondered if Justin, who'd acted as my hero before, might be on his way here to ensure that I got out of this situation all right.

Because, as soon as Alice had arrived, I'd prepared for my conversation with her by pushing the button on the phone in my pocket to call him and let him listen in.

What I'd have liked at that moment would be to hear him come through the door at the front of the store, which I hadn't locked behind Alice. Better yet, right here, from the alley and through the door into the storeroom where I sat.

I heard neither.

Had I assumed too much? Had my phone even worked?

Maybe it didn't matter. Alice might be mad at me, but she hadn't admitted anything.

She did take a step toward me, though, and I recalled her pending question. “I haven't told anyone,” I lied, again hiding my crossed fingers. Although, unfortunately, I might not be lying. I couldn't confirm whether Justin had heard anything.

“That's good.” Alice's hard tone matched the livid expression on her face. “You know, I'd considered carrying a weapon here tonight, even though I'm officially off-duty. Too bad I didn't. On the other hand, I suspect I'm a bit better than you at hand-to-hand combat. And if I start fearing for my life because you come at me with a box cutter or something else—I'm sure I'll find something with a sharp point in this room that I can use once you're unconscious—then I can ‘defend' myself.”

Pluckie was barking again now, obviously sensing the tension in the room. I couldn't bend to quiet her and certainly couldn't pick her up.

“Don't you know it's bad luck to find a knife?” I asked, hating how my voice squeaked. “I read that in
The Destiny of Superstitions
.”

“Oh, I won't just find it. I'll consider it a gift from you.”

“I think that's bad luck, too,” I said. Justin, where are you? But of course I couldn't count on him.

Yes, I'd been foolish, but not entirely so. It just so happened that I did have a weapon of sorts.

The phone I hoped was blurting all to Justin was in one of my jeans pockets. A strong mesh leash I'd wound into a tight coil—one that had decorative representations of horseshoes stamped onto it—was in my other pocket. I reached in and grasped it.

That was when Alice launched herself toward me, hands outstretched as if she was about to grab me.