Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 03 - Buyer's Remorse (2 page)

“Okay.” The first officer cut him off and turned toward Mitzy. “Why don’t you come with us and give us a statement.”

Alonzo squeezed Mitzy’s elbow as she stepped forward. “Yes, sir,” Mitzy said. She followed the officers into the kitchen and told them her story. 

“I see.” The officer who led the discussion shut his notebook and looked at his partner. “The medical examiner should be here in 15 minutes. He’s just closing up another case.” He pulled a card out of his pocket. “Take this and call me anytime. I don’t think we’ll have any more questions for you.”

Mitzy looked at the card. His name was Officer McConnell. “Thank you, sir. There was just one more thing.” Mitzy looked behind her, to where Alonzo stood in the hall. Alonzo nodded at her, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Don’t you think the woman looks like me? I mean, just from looking at her quickly we are about the same size and have the same hair. I just—I think I may have been the target.”

Officer McConnell frowned. “Do you think someone had a reason to kill you?”

“I’ve had two, sort of, run-ins with known Mafia this year. I, um, I helped put one man in jail, but last time these guys tried to kill me they got away.” Mitzy looked at Alonzo again. He looked at the floor.

“Someone tried to kill you?” Officer McConnell whipped his notebook open again.

“Yes, sir.
While I was in a scooter shop downtown, the guys that run it set it on fire.”

“You were in the Scooter-Niks fire?” McConnell asked. He set the pencil down.

“Yes,” Mitzy said.

He shut his notebook again. “Okay.” He looked toward the patio where the coat waved violently in the wind. “We have closed that case already.
Arson.
I think you can rest easy. Murder wasn’t the motive for that fire. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Yes, but—”

McConnell slipped his pencil and notebook back in his pocket. He turned away from Mitzy and walked to the sliding door.

“Yes, but,” Mitzy began again, “It wasn’t a case of the wrong place at the wrong time. I was an integral part of that investigation.”

McConnell’s shoulders stiffened. “If this is at all related, I’m sure we’ll find out, Ma’am, but the Scooter-Niks arson is closed and there is no reason to think it was an attempted murder.”

Alonzo stepped into the kitchen and stood by Mitzy. “Let it go, babe. I think he’s right. This is just an ugly coincidence.”

The second officer came back into the condo. “You can go now. We have what we need. We’ll be in contact.” He walked down the hallway. Mitzy heard him open a door and turn the water on.

“Come on, babe. We should get out of here.” Alonzo led Mitzy to the door by her elbow. “Let them do their work.”

“Of course,” Mitzy said, her head turned so she could keep an eye on the patio. “But Alonzo, I think someone wants to kill me.”

Mitzy followed Alonzo in her Miata. She had no interest in being without her car just because of a murder. She was shocked and horrified. The murder put her radar back on alert. With the sale of her condo, and a wedding date set, she had begun to relax again. She hated to think that her security came from knowing she’d be living with Alonzo soon, but on some subconscious level, she had been able to relax. Obviously, that had been a mistake.

She turned sharp at the light, trying to keep up with Alonzo. He drove fast, made wide turns, and hugged the line. She had to lay into her gas pedal to keep up with him. She sped down the highway in the dark of the late winter afternoon, with the rain now falling in sheets.
When would the killer realize she was still alive?
The thought dogged her.

She gritted her teeth as her wheels slid on the slick road. She tapped the brakes and slowed down. A breath of relief escaped her. She still had brakes, but for how much longer? When the killer learned the wrong blonde head had been smashed, what would they try next?
Bullets?
Brakes?
Poison?

Mitzy followed Alonzo into the parking lot of his go-to restaurant, Alessandra’s. He seemed to believe pasta could fix all of life’s ills. Mitzy doubted pasta would fix things this time, but she didn’t mind giving it a try.

Alonzo didn’t open her car door for her, but he did wait under the awning at the restaurant. “You need gnocchi,” he said.

“You’re right.” Mitzy led the way inside. “And garlic bread and coffee. I think we’re in time for the early bird special.”

“Perfect. Order two of everything.”

After they were seated and had ordered, Alonzo took both of her hands in his and looked very serious. “You have just finally begun to let your guard down. I don’t want you to let this screw you up.”

Mitzy looked at his worried face. His bushy black eyebrows were pulled together, a deep crevice between them. The hair at his temples had started to turn silver in the last year. He frowned, deep lines framing his mouth. He had been scruffing at his hair while he drove; it stood up all over his head. He pulled one hand away from hers and scratched his chin while she sat, saying nothing.

“There are a lot of blonde women in the world,” he said. “This is just a coincidence.”

“But what was she doing in the condo?” Mitzy took a bite of her garlic bread.

“Let the police find out.”

“Of course.
But who was she? Why did she go to my condo at all, much less get killed there? And how did she get in?”

“Could she have been one of the repair people?
Or one of the cleaners?”

“Maybe.
But then, how long has she been out there? All of your guys were done a week ago. The cleaners and I haven’t been there in three days. She wasn’t working with us. And if she was on your team you would have recognized her.” Mitzy bit into a soft potato dumpling. She had to take a drink of water to swallow it. “She couldn’t have been there to work. There’s just no way.”

“Was she another Realtor? Maybe she went there to see the house?”

“It hasn’t been listed since I took the offer.”

“Was she the other Realtor?
The buyer’s rep?”

“No, my friend Tina represented the buyer, you know, the gal who lives in Canby? Her son plays football for
Portland
State
? That wasn’t Tina.”

Alonzo shrugged and ate some more bread.

“It must have been the buyer!” Mitzy said, sitting up. “I haven’t met her yet, but I know she’s a younger woman. And who else would want to go in? Maybe she went there with Tina just to see it and Tina left her to lock up? I’d better make a call.” She pulled her phone out of her purse.

“Put that back,” Alonzo said, jumping a little.

“What?
My phone?”

“Yes! Don’t call a Realtor and tell her that her client is dead.
Especially when we don’t know who the dead woman really is!”

“Who else could it be?”

“I don’t know.
A neighbor?
A vagrant?
A burglar?”

“She wasn’t my neighbor. Her clothes were way too nice to be a vagrant, and who would burgle an empty condo?”

“Burgle?”

“Yes. What could a burglar get in an empty condo?”

“What if she broke into another condo and fell onto your porch and hit her head?”

“Mine is the penthouse. She’d have to fall from the sky.”

“What if she…what if she didn’t know it was empty?”

“Could be.
But how did she hit her own head that hard and fall over face forward?”

The server came and refilled their waters. Mitzy wondered what he made of their conversation.

“You’ll just have to watch the news like everyone else to find out what happened.” Alonzo twirled a fork load of spaghetti.

Mitzy tried another bite of her gnocchi, but again the food clung to her throat. She took a deep drink from her lemon water. “I wonder what Detective Backman would make of this.”

“Your purse is ringing.” Alonzo was stretched across the sofa in the living room of his little house.
 

Mitzy dug her phone out of the depths of her bag. She looked at the caller ID and frowned. “They can leave a message.” She set her phone on top of her bag but kept tapping it.

“Take the call. I don’t mind,” Alonzo said.

After the early dinner at Alessandra’s, he and Mitzy had gone straight back to his house.

She couldn’t deny it, she felt safer with her man than she felt all alone, housesitting for her parents. She flushed with shame that at thirty-one she didn’t want to be alone. But then, it had been a murder. There was no shame in wanting to be with someone else after finding a corpse.

“No, not right now.
It wasn’t urgent.”

“You get calls that aren’t urgent?”

“Every now and again.”
Mitzy kept tapping the phone. She gazed out the window into the dusky night.

“Sit down. Relax.
Pray or something.”

“Pray or something?”

“You know what I mean. You are very tense.” Alonzo sat up on his elbows. “I don’t do this well. Sorry. This body thing was a big deal. So…pray about it. Or you could pray with me.” Alonzo’s shoulders rose visibly.

Mitzy watched his discomfort grow. She shook her head.

“I won’t make you do that right now.” She sat down on the edge of the sofa at his feet.
“Praying out loud with other people gets easier with practice though.
You’ll like it once you get used to it.”

Alonzo pulled himself all the way up, and pulled Mitzy into his arms. “Let’s try it now,” he said in a quiet voice.

Mitzy sighed. She wanted to pray with him and to be overwhelmed by a sense of God’s protection and love in a trying time, but she felt awkward praying with Alonzo. He was just such a baby Christian. “Why don’t you just hold me a while and we can sort of…” she trailed off.

“No,” Alonzo said in a firmer voice. “I need to man up someday. Let me pray for you.” He closed his eyes and cleared his throat, “Dear Lord…” he stopped and held Mitzy in silence for a moment.

In her heart Mitzy supplied her own request, “Dear, dear, Lord, don’t let me get killed.”

Alonzo began again, “Dear, dear Lord. This woman is your daughter and I love her. Please….” he paused, “please carry this burden for her.” He sighed. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Mitzy said. She didn’t give Alonzo enough credit. New in his faith, Alonzo had been able to pare down his request to its core without worrying about form or convention. It felt good to be held up before God in that way. But she repeated her own
request as well, “Please, please
dear Lord,” her heart cried out, “don’t let me get murdered.”

Her cell phone rang again.

“Are you sure that’s not urgent?” Alonzo asked. He leaned closer to her and caressed her neck with his cheek.

She picked the phone up again. “I can’t see why it would be.”

Alonzo inhaled deeply and pulled his nuzzling self away from Mitzy. “Go in the office and answer it. I don’t mind. It’s probably your other boyfriend.”

Mitzy scrunched up her mouth. She stood up, the phone still ringing, and went into the hall. “Yes?” She said with a frown.

“Hi yourself,” Ben said. Her old tech guru and graphics guy had quit working for her after the little matter of his kidnapping earlier in the year.

“Is this urgent?”

“A little.”

“Make it quick.”

“Oh, you’re with Alonzo, aren’t you?”

“We’ve had a rough evening. I could tell you all about it but I’m not in the mood. You can read about it in the paper tomorrow.”

“That’s not fair,
Is
it a business thing?
A city thing?
Who are you fighting now?”

“Why did you call?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me to read it in the paper. Give up the goods.”

“Ben. You called. Tell me why or I’m hanging up.”

“Mitzy, be a sport.”

“Does Jenny know you are calling me?”

“Not fair.”

“Who wants to be fair? You called. You didn’t text, you didn’t email. You called. If it is that important, spit it out.”

“Your server is down.” Ben said.

“So?”

“So, it may be down for a while. Anyone searching for homes in
Portland
will not be able to get to your website. I’m sorry. It can’t be helped. But you needed to know.”

“Yes. I guess I did. I sort of needed to know. Since it can’t be helped, I guess I didn’t actually need to know,” Mitzy said. “You made a risky choice calling.”

“Hey, I’m your webmaster. I had to call. I just do what I gotta do.”

“You’re the one who feels the need to be my secret webmaster. I’m perfectly happy to let the world know that you still work for me.”

“But Mitzy…Jenny—you know how she feels.”

“She still blames me.
Like your kidnapping could have been my fault.”
Mitzy tried to keep her voice down. Her face felt hot. She tried to keep her hands still but it was difficult. She felt the weight of death on her shoulders, and her insides twisted with fear and shame. Where did her fault lie in this? She was scared like a victim, but riddled with guilt like she had done something wrong. She used two hands to hold the phone to her ear, just to keep it still.

“While the scooter Mafia had me tied up.
I missed our wedding cake testing. It might not be a big deal to you, but that mattered to my wife.”

“That was not my fault.” Her voice quavered.

“Jenny just doesn’t agree. And she kind of has a point. I haven’t been assaulted or kidnapped since I quit working for you. But listen, don’t cry about it. I’ll try and take care of your internet issues. And if you don’t want me to call I won’t call anymore, okay?”

“I do want you to call! And I want you to work from the desk in my office! Quit making all of your problems my fault.” Mitzy’s voice rose
She
wanted to punch him for blaming his stupid secret-webmaster-plan on her.

“I can’t do that. Trouble follows you Mitzy. That’s all Jenny knows.”

The image of the dead woman on the patio overwhelmed Mitzy. She leaned against the wall and tried to take a deep breath. “Don’t call again until you’ve fixed this.”

“Fine.
As soon as the server is back up, I’ll call.”

Mitzy swallowed a wave of nausea. “No. Don’t call again until you are ready to work for me. I’ll fix my own computer.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll be watching the paper tomorrow to see what trouble you’re in now. I’ll text when the server is back up, See you.”

Mitzy ended the call.

“Boyfriend doing well?”
Alonzo said when she came back.

She faked a stiff laugh.
“As well as ever.”
She sat down next to him and watched as her knees shook. She pressed her palms onto them.

Alonzo sat up and placed his warm hand on top of hers. “That sounded like a bad phone call. What’s wrong?”

“I…” Mitzy looked into Alonzo’s deep black eyes. She should tell him about Ben. She knew saying it out loud would put Ben’s secret into perspective. She needed perspective. She closed her eyes for a moment, to disengage from Alonzo. She could break her promise to Ben and tell Alonzo about his work, but that wouldn’t make what Ben said any easier to swallow. Trouble followed her and the murder was her fault whether or not Ben was her webmaster.

She opened her eyes again but looked away from Alonzo. “I’m having computer problems. I kind of…blew it out of proportion because of …because of the murder.”

He lifted his hand off her knee.
“Fine.
Don’t tell me. But don’t forget that I’m the one who is here for you. Not whoever that was on the phone.”

She looked at him again, but he wasn’t making eye contact. “I just can’t say more. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” He turned his head slowly and met her eye. The hard look he wore a moment earlier softened. “Business is business. It’s fine. But you are a wreck. You can’t be alone tonight. Your parents aren’t back yet, are they?”

“No. It will still be a few months.”

“You can’t stay at their place alone tonight.”

“It’s better than going back to my old condo.” Mitzy tried the fake laugh again.

Alonzo coughed. “Would you feel better if you stayed here?”

“We’ve had this talk already,” she said.

“Yeah.
Okay. But I’d hate to take you back to their place tonight.” Alonzo scratched his head. “Can I take you to The Miramontes? You wouldn’t be alone at least.”

Mitzy’s shaking knees went still. She felt her shoulders relax a fraction. “That is a very good idea,” she said. “I think you may just be my hero.” She leaned in and kissed his prickly cheek. She knew she should tell him about her phone call. He could solve her problem with Ben and Jenny if she’d let him. Her heart beat a little faster. She should just get it off her chest. The cell phone sitting on her bag let out a little low battery bleep. She looked at it and sighed. She couldn’t tell. Not until Jenny stopped hating her.

But sleeping at the inn was a brilliant idea. “I’ll have plenty of company at the inn and if anything suspicious happens Carmella has to report it to the feds. It’s kind of like having a bodyguard.” She forced a lopsided grin.

Alonzo frowned a little and shook his head, “It’s okay to be unhappy right now,” he said.

She bit her bottom lip. “It’s better to try and be—” 

“No. It’s not better,” Alonzo said.
 

Carmella, Mitzy’s future sister-in-law, greeted them from the reception desk when they arrived. They walked up the curved staircase together to a second floor bedroom. Mitzy dumped her suitcase on the bed and Alonzo sat in a wingback chair by the door. Carmella stood by the dresser, folding washcloths and setting them in their basket. Mitzy filled Carmella in on the murder.

“But how did she get on your deck?” Carmella asked.

“I don’t know. I hope I hear from Detective Backman soon so I can find out what is going on,” Mitzy said.

“You and Backman still talking?”
Carmella asked.

“Honestly? No. I haven’t heard from her since the fall. But the case hasn’t been closed, has it? I mean, you still have to call her if anything fishy happens here at the inn?”

“Yeah, but if our inn was any good as Mafia bait you wouldn’t want to stay here. You know as well as I do that we haven’t even had a whisper of intrigue since that guy from the city council threw you in his car. It’s been good business, sure.
But no Mafia sightings.”

“Why don’t you stay next door at Carmella’s place instead? You don’t need to be here.” Alonzo picked at his fingernails with his key.

“They don’t need me in their little house. I am fine here. Carmella is right; it’s been dead, as far as crime goes. And the night staff will be here, the other guests will be here—I don’t have anything to worry about.” Mitzy lay back on the bed. She had everything to worry about but at least she wasn’t alone.

“I’ll be here until almost
midnight
, anyway,” Carmella said. “I have a meeting with the night staff. And then I’ll be back at seven tomorrow. You won’t even know I left.”

“That’s pretty good.” He looked at his sister and nodded. But his face remained tense. His jaw flexed and he narrowed his eyes.
“The room next door empty?”
Alonzo asked.

Carmella smiled. “It is.”

“Let me have it. I think Mitzy is crazy, sure. But if I’m wrong I’ll never forgive myself.”

Relief swept over Mitzy. Staying at The Miramontes had sounded like a brilliant idea while they discussed it from the comfort of Alonzo’s living room, but this place had been the site of some of her scarier adventures, being held at knifepoint and tied up in the basement on two of the more horrifying occasions.

“Would you really stay here too? We could pull out that little TV in the armoire and watch cable together and forget about the murder for a while. I’d really like that.”

“I’ll book you in, Al,” Carmella said.