Something's Knot Kosher (15 page)

Agent Tucker had emerged from somewhere in the background and deliberately placed himself in Denver's line of sight. Denver clamped his mouth shut and took a small step back from the grave. He bumped into Agent O'Neal, who'd materialized right behind him.

Phoebe continued unruffled. “Let us now help our friend on his journey to an eternal oneness with the universe.” Phoebe signaled the four men, who loosened the straps under the coffin and slowly lowered Russell Watson into the ground.

Jazz renewed his sobs.

Removing a little leather-bound book from a pocket, Phoebe read, “Spirits of the forest, spirits of the earth, sky, water, and fire—we commend this soul into your care. Guide him on his journey to the universe. Show him the way.”

She paused and turned the page. “And now I speak to the soul of Russell Watson. Hark! Depart not in regret, but sally forth with joy, safe in the knowledge all is as it should be.”

Drums boomed again as Phoebe bent down and opened the cardboard box. Several pigeons cooed inside. With an elaborate arm gesture, Phoebe commanded them to “Fly!” But the birds just sat.

“Fly!” she ordered them again. They still didn't move, so she lifted the box and turned it upside down. Six fat pigeons slid to the ground. Five of them waddled toward the tall grass, looking for food. The sixth rolled into the grave and landed on top of Russell's coffin. He lifted his tail feathers, deposited a runny white glob, and flew out of the hole.

Lucy's body, next to me, was shaking with silent laughter.

Phoebe scowled and swiveled her head as if she were looking for something. “That's not funny, Gus!”

Phoebe closed the slender book, put it in the pocket of her garment, and reached for a long-handled shovel. Thrusting it in the mound of dirt next to the grave, she scooped a small amount into the hole. It landed with a soft thud on top of the mahogany casket. She passed the shovel to Birdie who, with shaking hands, did the same. Jazz couldn't bring himself to bury his lover. He handed the shovel to Rainbow, who performed the task quickly and efficiently. Denver thrust the shovel deep into the dirt and poured a heaping amount of soil on top of his brother. Twice.

When everyone had had a turn with the shovel, Yoder made a short announcement. “Please join the family immediately following for a reception and tea at the Yamhill Country Inn on Evans Street.”

My stomach had been growling throughout the service. It was two in the afternoon and we hadn't eaten since breakfast. “Are you as hungry as I am, Lucy?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

“Did you see how angry Denver Watson is? We have to keep an eye on Birdie.”

“Don't worry, girlfriend.” Lucy tucked her arm through mine and walked me back to the Caddy. “We can multitask. Eat and worry at the same time.”

C
HAPTER
26

We parked in front of a charming, Victorian-era hotel, the Yamhill Country Inn. A wide porch, populated with white iron tables and wicker chairs, wrapped around the front and sides of the well-kept building. Stained-glass flowers and fruit adorned the windows along the façade.

“We had a lot of buildings just like this in Wyoming,” said Lucy as she pushed open the heavy oak door.

Antique Edwardian sofas and chairs upholstered in dark green velvet sat in the lobby. William Morris wallpaper featured a background of light green papyrus plants. Pairs of white cranes faced each other with outstretched wings and necks curved symmetrically, forming the shape of a heart.

Lucy's gaze slid around the room and she sighed. “This looks just like my granny's house in Gillette.”

The proprietor, a pleasant woman in a lace blouse, came out from behind an old mahogany bar-turned-reception desk and addressed Russell's brother. “Hello, Denver. We have your reception set up in the Rose Room.”

Denver removed his hat. “Much obliged, Ruthie.”

The woman escorted our group to a private parlor off to the side. “The servers will arrive shortly. Please make yourselves comfortable.”

Four round tables, each surrounded by six chairs, were covered in crisp white linen and set with bone china. Crystal vases of summer roses and forest ferns sat in the middle, completing the genteel ambiance. The other mourners began arriving in small groups, including the head forest fairy and her purple chorus. Agent Lancet stood quietly just inside the door. Tucker stationed himself in the lobby. O'Neal stayed on the porch with Arthur.

Denver led Birdie to the table closest to the window and pulled out her chair. “You'll like the view, Twink.”

Jazz quickly claimed the seat on her other side. He seemed as determined as Lucy and I were to not leave Birdie alone with Denver Watson.

Rainbow, Lucy, and I arranged ourselves in the other three seats.

Lucy placed her napkin in her lap. “This place is gorgeous, hon. How'd you know about it?”

Birdie smiled at Russell's brother. “Actually, I didn't. Denny made these arrangements. Since he lives here, he knows just about everyone in town.”

Denver Watson reached over and gently clasped Birdie's hand in both of his. “Right now, there's only one person I want to know.”

Jazz shifted in his seat and twisted his mouth to the side.

Two servers came in the room bearing silver trays and passed around crystal flutes of bubbling champagne.

Rainbow stood. Something about the woman exuded control, and the room became silent. “I'd like to propose a toast to Russell Watson, our husband, brother, fiancé, cousin, and friend.”

Denver frowned and pushed his glass away.

Everyone else stood and responded, “To Russell.”

When we sat down again, Denver got up and walked to a corner of the room where a scuffed instrument case stood against the wall. He removed a well-used acoustic guitar, sat back down at our table, and announced, “I'd like to dedicate this song to Birdie.” He looked at her and the room fell silent. In a heartbreaking voice, he crooned words of love and longing from “Unchained Melody.”

Birdie covered her mouth with her hands, and tears streamed down her face. When he finished, her voice was nearly drowned out by the applause in the room, “You remembered.”

“How could I forget?”

I nudged Lucy's foot under the table, and whispered, “I don't like where this is going.”

She nodded and whispered back, “I think we're too late. Birdie and Denver are on a runaway train.”

The servers offered a parade of several savory and sweet finger foods. They also provided endless pots of tea.

Denver gestured for the server to fill our glasses. “You have to try our local Pinot Noir. We grow some of the best grapes in the world.”

I had to admit, the man was charming, regaling us with funny stories about the strange food concoctions Birdie and Rainbow sometimes prepared in the commune. “The weirdest one was the feta cheese tacos with dried figs wrapped in kale leaves. But they turned out to be everyone's favorite.”

Rainbow laughed. “They still are. Kale tacos are one of our biggest sellers.”

I thought about the hundreds of little taquerías in the barrios of LA. “You own a taco stand?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “A few of them.”

By the end of our meal, the volume had been turned up on the conversations and laughter filled the room. Several people came to our table for private conversations with Birdie and Denver. An older man with a long gray ponytail, wearing jeans and a tie-dyed Nehru jacket, walked over to Rainbow and kissed her on the cheek.

“Cody!” She brightened. “You haven't changed a bit.”

He ran the palm of his hand over his very receding hairline and laughed. “Neither have you. You're still the prettiest woman in the room.” He squatted down next to her chair and lightly stroked her arm. “I hear you found your pot of gold, sweet cheeks.”

As they reminisced, I turned my attention to Jazz, who clutched Zsa Zsa in his arms and looked miserable.

I pointed to the little Maltese. “She looks adorable, Jazz. I'm sure Russell would love what she's wearing.”

Jazz had changed her into party clothes on the way over from the cemetery. She wore a pink velvet dress with eyelet lace ruffles, a rhinestone collar, and a pink ribbon in her hair.

His lower lip trembled. “Thank you for noticing.” He pulled off a tiny piece of salmon from the top of a cracker and fed it to the dog on the tip of his finger.

When the servers began to clear the empty plates, Birdie announced to our table, “I've changed your hotel reservations. We were originally booked into the Comfort Inn, but I thought the four of you might have more fun staying here. This is a literary hotel. Each room is decorated in the style of a famous author, including a selection of their books for you to read. Martha, you're staying in the Faye Kellerman room. Lucy, you're in the Tony Hillerman.” She turned to Jazz and winked. “And you get the Truman Capote room.”

Jazz rolled his eyes. “I get it. The gay guy gets the gay author. Well, for your information, I happen to be a huge fan of Nicholas Sparks. So, which room did you choose for yourself, Birdie?”

She looked down and blushed. “Actually, I won't be staying here. Denver has invited me to be a guest at his ranch.”

The hairs stood on the back of my neck. How could I persuade her to stay with us where she'd be safe? “I thought it would be fun to take a run at that great fabric store tomorrow. And what about Rainbow? She's flown all this way to see you. Don't you want to spend some time with her?”

Birdie held up her hand. “I know what I'm doing, Martha dear. I'll see you in a couple of days. If you need me, you can call my cell phone.”

My mind raced for a way to keep her with the three of us. I also wanted to ask her about the diary but didn't want to alert Denver of its existence. I stood and walked over to her chair. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

I guided her out into the lobby. “What about the diary, Birdie? The key to Russell's murder is in that book, and you're the only one who can decipher it.”

She smiled and pulled the diary out of a pocket in her vintage blue dress with the yellow flowers. Inside the book was a folded piece of paper. “I was going to give this to you before I left. I haven't had time to decode the entries. But you won't have any problem. The substitution code is on that paper. All you need to do is plug in the right letters.”

Lucy was right. Birdie and Denver were on an express train, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“What about Feather, Denver's wife? Won't she be unhappy when he brings you home?”

Birdie waved her hand dismissively. “Feather got bored and left him and the boy decades ago. Denver raised Ethan on his own from the time he was six.”

“What about Ethan? What will he think?”

Birdie's face softened. “Ethan was killed in Afghanistan. Denver is all alone.”

Loneliness and grief. That was the hook that Denver was using to catch the tenderhearted Birdie and reel her in. That and the passionate love they once shared. Denver Watson had pushed all of her buttons. It was hopeless to try to make her stay with us.

“You'll call if you change your mind or things don't work out at the ranch?”

My old friend lightly squeezed my hand. “Be happy for me, dear. This is my last chance.”

I hugged her tightly. “You deserve so much happiness, Birdie. I promise I'll try to stop worrying.”

We walked back into the Rose Room.

Birdie put her hand through Denver Watson's arm and looked at Jazz, Lucy, Rainbow, and me. “I'll be in touch.”

Then the two old lovers turned and walked out of the hotel.

After Birdie left, Rainbow lowered her voice and said, “You seem worried. Don't be. Denver didn't kill Russell, if that's what's bothering you.”

I bit my lip. “How can you be so sure?”

“That's what we need to discuss.” She looked at her watch. “It's four-thirty now. I want to freshen up and take a short nap. Let's meet in the lobby for drinks at seven.”

“What about Lucy and Jazz?” I asked.

Rainbow shook her head once. “Best if you come alone for now.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Here. For some reason Birdie booked me into the J.K. Rowling room. I hope it's not filled with stuffed owls.” She flashed a smile. “See you at seven.” Then she turned and grabbed the hand of the man in the ponytail and tie-dyed Nehru jacket and headed toward Hogwarts.

C
HAPTER
27

I waited for everyone to leave the Rose Room before I approached Kay Lancet, still standing at the door. “You just let Birdie go off with Russell's brother? Why didn't you stop her?”

“On what grounds? I don't have the authority to do that. Don't worry. We still have eyes on her. I sent Tucker to surveil them.”

“You must be hungry,” I said. “You stood by the door all throughout the meal.”

“We ate in the car on the way over, plus I snuck quite a few of those tiny egg rolls and a couple petit fours.” She looked down and brushed chocolate crumbs from her chest.

I tried again. “Let me buy you a drink. I want to know what you discovered about Tanya's kung fu instructor.”

We found a small bar next to the dining room on the other side of the lobby, ordered our drinks, and sat at a table for two. Lancet held a frosty mug of a local brew she ordered for the name alone—Vlad the Imp Aler. I sipped another cup of tea.

The agent swallowed a long draft of Vlad and wiped the foam from her upper lip with a cocktail napkin. “Hmm. Tastes almost like lemons. It's different. I'll say that much.”

She took another swig and watched me fidget impatiently with my cup. “Okay, I won't keep you guessing any longer. He's got a sheet. Nick Evans is his real name, but he's used aliases before: Nick Henderson, Andy Freeman, and Rocky Freeman. He started in his teens boosting cars and graduated to fraud and grand larceny. Now he's found a pathway to legal extortion. Tanya isn't his first.”

“His first what?”

“Evans seduces vulnerable women and persuades them to leave their husbands. He takes them to Hawaii to ‘start a new life' then contacts the husbands and offers to return them for a fee.”

“What if the husband doesn't want her back?”

“Evans is smart. He only targets women with young children. Even if the husband doesn't want the wife, he usually wants his kids. And he'll send money to get them back. Strictly speaking, it's not kidnapping and it's not extortion.”

“So what can we do?”

“Already done,” said Lancet. “I asked one of the guys in the Honolulu office to go talk to Evans and Tanya together. He made sure she knew about the other six women he'd seduced with the same con.” Lancet chuckled. “I understand there was a lot of screaming and packing of suitcases.”

“So I can tell Lucy?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“What a relief. I don't know how to thank you, Kay. You've helped the Mondello family avert disaster. You maybe even saved a marriage.”

She looked at me sideways and brought the mug to her lips again. “Don't know about the marriage thing. These situations rarely end well. After all, the woman wasn't kidnapped. There must be a reason she did a bunk.”

I smiled at her use of British slang. “You're right. Once you stop being able to trust someone, a relationship can never be the same.”

She peered at me over the rim of the beer mug. “Are we talking about Arlo here?”

“He's just one among many. Was he unfaithful to you, too?”

She laughed. “Only after I cheated on him first.”

I studied the woman sitting before me. Why had she strayed outside her marriage? Did her behavior give Beavers permission to become a cheater? I decided I didn't want to know. After all, I wasn't ever going to become involved with Arlo Beavers again.

“What about Li'l Ape Man?” I changed the subject. “Have you caught him yet?”

Lancet finished her beer. “The good news is you can stop worrying about him. The bad news is he's not in custody. Immediately after he ran you off the road, he drove to Eugene, hired a private jet, and flew to Canada. From there he changed planes and flew to Stockholm. The Justice Department wants to extradite him for stalking and attempted murder, but we're looking at a long process before he ever sees the inside of a U.S. courtroom.”

Since the FBI agent was so forthcoming with information, I continued to probe. “What do you know about Sandra Prescott, aka Rainbow?”

“What makes you think . . .”

“Come on, Kay. I know you're too good a cop not to vet everyone.”

Lancet shrugged. “She's on her way to becoming a billionaire.”

My mouth fell open. “Are we talking about the same woman? The former hippie who owns a couple of taco joints?”

“Yup. You want to know more? You'll have to ask her yourself.” Lancet stood and stretched. “Thanks for the beer. You need to retrieve your dog from O'Neal so we can go back to the office.”

Arthur was lying on the front porch next to Agent O'Neal's chair. When the shepherd saw me, he trotted over, wagging his tail. I thanked O'Neal for watching him, and walked back inside. The clock behind the reception desk read five o'clock, dinnertime for pooches. I asked for the key to my room and assured the lady in lace that Arthur was well trained and completely housebroken.

Blue and white striped wallpaper greeted us in the Faye Kellerman room. Two posters hung on the wall. One showed a Jerusalem skyline. The second pictured a dark-haired girl harvesting oranges on a kibbutz. A sky blue matelassé spread covered a dark, four-poster bed and a silver Hanukkah menorah sat on a shelf next to a dozen books in Kellerman's mystery series. I guessed this was someone's idea of how a room with a Jewish theme should look—blue and white like the Israeli flag. Shabbat would begin at sundown, and the hotel would never allow me to light candles. Too big a fire hazard. I'd just have to be satisfied with hanging out in a blue and white room with “Jewish” posters.

I fed Arthur a cup of kibble and a cube of cheese I'd saved from high tea. Then I sat in an overstuffed reading chair and dialed Lucy's cell phone. I couldn't wait to tell her the good news about the kung fu instructor.

“You asked Agent Lancet to investigate Nick Evans? So that's what happened. I just got a text from Ray Junior saying he's bringing Tanya and the kids back home. Thanks for doing that.”

“Thank Kay Lancet. She did all the work.”

Lucy's voice sounded lighter already. “In spite of high tea this afternoon, I know I'll be hungry again in a couple of hours. Jazz and I are going to check out the dining room later. Do you want to join us for a late supper?”

“Sorry, but you'll have to do without me. Rainbow said she wanted to talk alone. Something about Russell.”

“Why can't I come?” Lucy sounded hurt.

“I have no idea. After all, we only met a few hours ago. Don't worry. I'll fill you in afterward.”

“Well, call me as soon as you get back to your room.”

We ended our conversation, and I checked my watch. I had an hour and a half before my meeting with Rainbow downstairs. I'd use the time to check out the diary entries. I unfolded the paper with Birdie's notes, grabbed a pencil, and began to decode the letters in the diary. I started with the first column, which consisted of all letters. Then I moved to the second column of mixed letters and numbers. The third column consisted of all numbers. When I had finished I studied what Russell had recorded.

The first column listed names of various companies, and none of them seemed to be related to any of the others.

The dates in the second column showed a curious pattern. The entries were made in either June or December going back to 2006. All but the most recent item had two dates exactly a year apart. For example, the oldest entry, Davis Plumbing, recorded the period of June 16, 2006 to June 22, 2007. But Five Star Packaging, displayed only one date, December 17, 2011. I guessed it was because a year hadn't yet passed.

The third column displayed the same three-digit number of 500 starting in 2006. Did that number represent a dollar amount from some kind of financial transaction? If so, it probably was a multiple of thousands, and 500 would be banker shorthand for $500,000.

Arthur walked over, rested his chin on my knee, and stared at me until he had my attention.

I reluctantly looked up from the diary. “What?”

The dog's ears swiveled forward, and he tilted his head.

I knew that beseeching look. “Okay, I'll get your leash.” Two minutes later I stood in the parking lot holding one end of his tether while the shepherd anointed a rhododendron bush.

When we returned to the room, my phone rang.

“I'm calling for my update.” Beavers.

“The funeral was . . . different. We all came back to the hotel for high tea. Birdie's fine. Arthur's fine. I'm still sore from the accident yesterday, but I'll live.” I paused for effect. “And I had a nice conversation with your ex-wife.”

Silence.

“Arlo? Are you still there?”

“So Kay told you? What else did she say?”

“Nothing I didn't already know—that you're a hell of a good cop.”

He cleared his throat. “So have you thought about joining me on a trip to the Rez?”

“I haven't changed my mind, Arlo. You and I together in that way would be a very bad idea. I'm happy just being your friend. Can't we keep it that way? Casual?”

“I don't know if I can do
casual
.”

I also had my doubts. Arlo Beavers was a serious and intense guy. Gray areas made him nervous. Simple friendship might be too hard for him to handle. “Well, I'd sure hate to lose you as a friend,” I said. “Not to mention Arthur.”

We said an awkward good-bye, and I looked at my watch. It read five minutes before seven. Time to discover why Rainbow felt responsible for Russell's murder.