by Reagan Davis
“Are you one of the people Paul had a disagreement with?” I ask, trying to be delicate.
He doesn’t seem phased by my question and continues tightening, or possibly loosening, I can’t tell the difference, the thing he’s either tightening or loosening, without losing his rhythm.
“Now, why would you ask me that, Megan?”
“The day Paul was killed, Kelly was in the store and mentioned that Paul wouldn’t let her hire The Wright Men For The Job anymore. He told her he didn’t trust you.”
He stops working and pops his head out from inside the dishwasher.
“If anyone isn’t trustworthy, it’s Paul.”
He places the tool he was using back in the toolbox and pulls out a different tool.
“Six weeks ago or so, Paul offered to pay me to burglarize Hairway To Heaven.”
He pauses and waits for me to respond. I’m taken aback and need a few seconds to catch up.
“Why would he want to steal from his wife’s business? What did he want you to steal? Shampoo and conditioner?” I ask, spinning my ring.
“Kelly’s been investing in new equipment this year, including two new computers, new styling tools, and other stuff that Paul said isn’t cheap. His plan was to keep Kelly away from the salon and apartment for a night and give me a list of what to take. I’d steal the items on the list and deliver them to a buyer he had lined up, collect the cash from the buyer, give half the cash to Paul and keep the other half for my trouble. He told me it wasn’t really stealing because everything is insured, so she’d be able to file an insurance claim and replace it all.”
Theft and insurance fraud. That’s a big deal, and a big thing to ask your local handyman to help you out with.
“What did you tell him when he asked you to do it?”
Ryan chuckles.
“I told him no way. But he didn’t like that answer, and told me if I didn’t do it, he’d tell everyone I’m a felon.”
I close the door to the kitchenette because in Harmony Lake, all the walls have ears.
“Are you a felon, Ryan?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
“Technically, yes,” he replies matter-of-factly. “Remember about five years ago when I moved to Ottawa to work for my Uncle’s construction company?”
I nod.
“Well, I wasn’t in a very good place back then, and I made some bad decisions. I found out some guys on the site were stealing copper wire, among other things, and reselling them. They offered to cut me in if I didn’t say anything, and I accepted. For the next few months, they kept stealing from worksites, and I kept pretending not to notice. Once a week one of the guys would buy me a coffee from the coffee truck, but it was an empty cup filled with cash. What I didn’t know was that one of them was an undercover cop who infiltrated the group to bring down the theft ring. I was charged along with everyone else. I copped a plea and spent three months in jail.”
“Wow, Ryan. I had no idea. How did Paul know? Did you tell him?”
“After I was released, I was on probation. Every other week for three years, I would drive into the city to visit my probation officer. Paul saw me go into the probation office a couple of times and snooped around. He was probably in the city visiting the casino.”
Ryan ducks back into the dishwasher and continues working.
Paul seems to have a habit of blackmailing people, first Adam, and now Ryan. Maybe that’s what he and Fred were arguing about in the car. Maybe Paul was blackmailing the Murphys, too. But how would he have known that Stephanie Murphy was the woman Adam was seeing? Could he have seen them together in the city, like he saw Ryan in the city visiting his probation officer?
“So how did you avoid being blackmailed? I mean, he didn’t tell anyone, right?”
He pops out of the dishwasher.
“Paul likes to gamble. It used to be a big problem for him, but he learned to control it after Kelly threatened to leave him if he didn’t stop. Lately, he hasn’t been able to keep it under control, and he’s had to borrow money to hide his gambling debt from Kelly. I told him I know about his gambling habit and debt and that I’d tell Kelly about it and about his plan to rob the salon. He hasn’t talked to me since, and it sounds like he lied to Kelly to make sure she wouldn’t talk to me either.”
“How do you know about Paul’s gambling debt?”
“I do a lot of work for Jay Singh. He’s a money lender who lives in Harmony Hills. We’ve become friends. He’s super smart, so when Paul tried to blackmail me, I asked Jay for advice. Jay told me that he loaned Paul money to pay off his gambling debt, and Paul was having trouble making the repayments. He told me to use that information to get away from Paul, and he also hoped it would put some pressure on Paul to get his payments up to date. And before you ask, I happened to be with Jay when Paul was murdered. He hired me to assemble one of those backyard play sets for his twins.”
Ryan’s head and shoulders disappear into the dishwasher, and I open the door to the kitchenette and return to the store.
Ryan finishes replacing the thingamajig and puts the dishwasher back together. He gives Connie an invoice, she pays him out of the till, and he leaves.
When we’re alone, I disclose to Connie what Ryan told me. I know I can trust her to keep Ryan’s past to herself. She doesn’t seem as shocked as I thought she’d be about Ryan’s criminal past, but she is just as shocked as I was about Paul’s scheme to burgle the salon.
This means there are other people, whose last name isn’t Martel, with a motive to kill Paul.
If Hairway To Heaven had been robbed, I’m pretty sure the whole town would know, so I assume Paul wasn’t able to pull it off. Maybe he tried to hire someone else to rob the salon, it didn’t work out, and they killed him. Or maybe the buyer he lined up for the equipment killed him when the equipment wasn’t delivered.
If he owes money to Jay Singh, perhaps Jay Singh killed him. That wouldn’t be good for business though, since dead men don’t make debt repayments. But sometimes on TV, the loan shark kills the person who owes them money as a warning to the other people who owe them money.
Maybe Kelly found out about the robbery plot, the gambling, the debt, or all of the above, and it pushed her over the edge, and she killed him.
Maybe he was using the photos of Adam and Stephanie to blackmail the Murphys, and they killed him.
Or, maybe Ryan is lying. If he is lying, it’s an elaborate lie. There’s only one way to find out for sure.
“Since I’m not scheduled to work this afternoon, I’m going to visit Jay Singh.”
“That doesn’t sound very safe, my dear. What if he is the killer?”
“I promise I’ll only go if April comes with me.”
I make an X over my heart with my right hand to assure Connie that I mean it.
“We won’t go inside anywhere alone with him. At the very least, he might verify Ryan’s alibi and remove him from the list of suspects.”
Connie doesn’t say anything. Instead, she purses her lips and squints slightly. The look on her face makes it clear that she doesn’t like my plan but won’t try to stop me.
“I have a book club meeting tonight, and Archie is a member, so I’ll ask him if he remembers where Ryan was when Paul was murdered.”
“Thank you,” I say, and smile at her.
I pull out my phone and text April, asking her if she’s up for a road trip this afternoon. She is! We agree to meet after lunch and drive to Harmony Hills.
I get another text from Eric asking when we can meet. I decide to holdback my reply until after April and I visit Jay. Hopefully, then, I’ll be able to give him a lead on a suspect that isn’t Adam or me.
Chapter 12
I leave Knitorious and drop off the online orders at the post office on my way home for a quick lunch before April and I go to Jay Singh’s house. It’s still cloudy and humid, but the drizzle has stopped for now. I feel my curly hair expanding in the damp air and use the hair elastic on my wrist to pull it in
to a high ponytail while I walk.
Walking up to the house, it’s weird to see Adam’s car in the driveway in the middle of a weekday. Walking into the house, it’s even weirder to see him sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of a weekday. He’s working intently on his new laptop, and I don’t want to disturb him, so I walk into the kitchen without saying anything.
“Hey!” He says without looking up.
“Hey. How’s the new laptop?”
“I like it. I had to leave my old laptop with the firm when I resigned, it’s company property. Anyway, I need a laptop if I’m going to start my own practice in Harmony Lake.”
He looks at me and smiles.
“Oh, you aren’t looking to join another firm?”
I assumed he’d pursue a partnership elsewhere.
“No, it’s time for a change,” he replies. “I can’t work anywhere for thirty days because of the thirty day non-compete clause I have with the firm, but on the thirty-first day, I intend to hang out my shingle and open for business. There aren’t any lawyers in Harmony Lake right now, so it’s an underserved market. The closest lawyer is at least half an hour away in Harmony Hills, and I think his practice is limited to real estate law, if he’s still there. He might be retired now. I should look into that, actually.”
He picks up a pen and makes a note in the planner beside his laptop.
“How was your visit to the police station last night? I didn’t hear you come in, so you must’ve been there pretty late”
He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand, “It was fine. I answered all of Eric’s questions as honestly and as thoroughly as I could. He asked to keep my cell phone though, so I went out this morning and bought this.”
He holds up a shiny new cell phone in one hand and waves the other hand under it with a flourish that would make Vanna White proud.
“It’s two models newer than the one Eric kept. It’s really advanced, and it can interact with Oscar!”
Getting new technology is Adam’s happy place.
“I already texted Hannah, so she has my new number.”
“How did you explain that to her?”
She knows Paul was murdered, but I’m trying to avoid telling her that her parents are murder suspects.
“Relax,” he says, “I told her I left the firm to open my own practice in Harmony Lake and the laptop and the phone both belong to the firm, and I had to leave them there when I resigned. She’s fine with it.”
He taps on the screen of his new phone then puts it down on the table.
My phone dings; a text from a number I don’t recognize.
“I assume this is from you?” I ask.
“Yup, now you have my new number,” he nods.
I save his number to my phone and delete his old office and cell phone numbers.
“Adam.”
“Mm hmm.” He’s staring at his laptop screen again.
“Adam. Look at me.”
We make eye contact.
“Are you having an affair with Kelly Sinclair?”
His eyes open as wide as they can, and his eyebrows raise up as high as they can go without disappearing into his hairline.
“Of course not, Meg! Why would you even ask me that?”
“Then why have you been communicating with her and meeting her?”
“Did Kelly mention this to you?” He looks confused.
“No, Eric did. He asked me if I knew why you and Kelly were communicating and if I knew about you meeting with her. I told him I don’t know anything, because I don’t.”
He’s hesitant to respond, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully.
“It would be inappropriate for me to comment on any communication between myself and Kelly Sinclair.”
His lawyer voice. I’m no longer speaking to Adam my soon-to-be-ex-husband but to Adam the lawyer. I know this routine well.
“Is your relationship with Kelly protected by attorney-client privilege?” I ask.
He puts his right hand in front of his chest palm toward the floor and turns his wrist. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated because you have a personal, intimate relationship with her?”
C’mon Adam, give me a clue.
“No! Absolutely not! Stephanie is the only personal relationship I've had, and it was a huge mistake on so many levels. I’ve regretted it every day since it started. This summer, by the way. Long after you and I called it quits.”
Not that long, but whatever.
“Kelly’s not a client. She hasn’t paid me for legal services, and I haven’t represented her. Technically, we spoke as friends. I didn’t even let her pay for my coffee, so I’m not violating attorney-client privilege if I tell you.”
I take the seat across from him at the kitchen table, and he closes his laptop.
“Kelly texted me a couple of months ago and wanted to meet for coffee, but not here, in Harmony Lake, and not near my office. We met at a coffee shop in the city where she told me that once upon a time, Paul had a gambling problem and racked up significant debt. The gambling and the financial strain almost ended their marriage, but he got help for his gambling, they decided to stay together, and over time they paid off the debt. Now that they’re back on their financial feet and the business is doing well, Kelly was worried about what could happen if Paul gambled again. About her potential liability for any gambling debts he might incur. She wanted advice on Paul-proofing the business and the building. We talked about various hypothetical options and scenarios for about an hour. After that, she never contacted me again, but Paul did. A few days after Kelly and I met, Paul began texting me, demanding to know why I met with Kelly. He accused me of having an affair with her or trying to.”
“What did you tell him? And did you let Kelly know that Paul was contacting you?”
“I denied it.” He shrugs. “I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about. When he kept texting after that, I ignored his texts. He phoned and left a couple of voicemail messages, but I never returned his calls. I saved the messages, they’re on the phone the police kept. In one of the messages, he said he knows Kelly and I have been talking because he saw the text messages when he went through her phone, and he knows we met because he saw the entry in the calendar on her phone. I never told Kelly about it. She wasn’t my client, and I didn’t want to have any more involvement with Paul than I already had.”
“Wow. It’s starting to sound like Paul wasn’t just bossy and controlling in his role as a town councilor, but in his role as husband, too.” I get up to get a glass of water and process what Adam just told me.
“Meg, I didn’t kill Paul.”
“I know.”
“Have you given a statement yet?”
I’m not sure if Adam the lawyer is asking or Adam the soon-to-be-ex-husband.
“Kind of, I guess. I answered questions that night, again yesterday morning at the store, and yesterday evening when Eric came to see you. He’s been texting me and asking if we can meet today, so he can ask me more questions. Surely, he’s running out of things to ask me by now.”
“You should have a lawyer present when he questions you. Let me give you a number…” He opens his laptop and starts tapping on the keyboard.
“I don’t need a lawyer, Adam, it’s fine. I haven’t done anything wrong and I have nothing to hide. I’d rather tell him everything I know and do whatever I can to help find the killer, so I can stop suspecting everyone I know of being a murderer, and we can get on with our lives.”
Did Paul make a habit of spying on Kelly? Why didn’t he trust her? If she knew he was violating her privacy and checking up on her, would that make her angry enough to kill him?
Based on the conversation she had with Adam, it sounds like she knew, or at least suspected, that Paul was gambling again.
Chapter 13
Thanks to living in the age of technology, a quick web search helped me find Jay Singh’s address in Harmony Hills and the GPS in April’s car is
helping us get there. It’s raining, and we’re on the highway almost halfway between Harmony Lake and Harmony Hills. Harmony Lake is on the south side of the Harmony Hills Mountains, nestled snugly between the mountains and the lake. Harmony Hills is located on the north side of the Harmony Hills Mountains and is a suburb of the city located farther north. Harmony Hills is larger than Harmony Lake and doesn’t have the same geographic restrictions, so it has a larger population and more amenities. Most residents of Harmony Lake find themselves making regular trips to Harmony Hills to visit the hospital, big box stores, various professionals, movie theatres, and everything else Harmony Hills has that our tiny town doesn’t. The quickest route to get from Harmony Lake to Harmony hills is a twenty to thirty-minute drive along the highway just outside town that runs past, or technically through the mountains.
April and I agree that it feels pushy showing up at a stranger’s home unannounced, but I’m hoping the element of surprise will work to our advantage; he might not agree to speak to us if he has time to think about it, and his reactions will be more candid than they would be if he had time to prepare for our visit.
The Singh home is a two-storey, two-car garage, detached, red-brick house, located in a newer subdivision with several speed bumps and no shortage of DRIVE SLOWLY: CHILDREN AT PLAY signs posted above the many NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCH signs. The front lawn and garden are meticulously maintained, and the top of the driveway is littered with two tiny, training-wheeled bikes, hula hoops, a small basketball net, and remnants of chalk drawings that have been almost completely washed away by the rain.
We pull up outside the house. It’s not raining right now, but everything is wet. A thirtyish year-old man wearing cargo shorts, a t-shirt and rain boots is jumping in puddles on the sidewalk with two small children. Both are wearing identical bright green raincoats with frog eyes on the hoods and yellow rubber boots with toes painted like duck bills and eyes on the tops of the feet. They’re freakin’ adorable!