A Hole In One

by Judy Penz Sheluk

“Did you tell him they were arguing?”

  “No, but he figured it out.” Tears trickled down Arabella’s face. “Oh god, Emily. What if I’m the reason Levon’s in custody?”

  “You can’t blame yourself. The police were bound to find out sooner or later. Lount’s Landing is a small town. There had to be others who saw them together.”

  And those people were the ones who would come forward with more “information” after they read Kerri’s article in the paper.

  Arabella put the cookies away. No amount of shortbread was going to fix this mess.

  Emily brought a copy of Inside the Landing into the shop the next morning. Arabella wanted to thank her, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the front page: MURDER IN MIAKODA FALLS. Arabella felt a tug somewhere deep inside her stomach and leaned over to read the story.

  The body of a man was found discovered on the third hole of the Miakoda Falls Golf & Country Club during a golf tournament for the children’s charity, Kids Come First. The man died from a single gunshot wound to the chest.

  Additional details of the death are being withheld at this time, pending notification of next of kin.

  However, an exclusive anonymous Inside the Landing source has confirmed that the dead man was Marc Larroquette, the estranged father of Levon Larroquette, owner of Larroquette’s Antiques Pickers & Appraisers.

  “Kerri St. Amour at her finest,” Emily said. “She’s the queen of rumor and innuendo. Interesting, though, about the next-of-kin. I just assumed Levon was his only living relative.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did too.” Arabella wondered if Levon knew about the next-of-kin. She turned her attention back to the article.

  The group playing in the charity tournament that discovered the body included Luke Surmanski, owner of Luke’s Lakeside Marina, Hudson Tanaka, author of the Medieval Knight mystery series, and Arabella Carpenter and Emily Garland, co-owners of the Glass Dolphin antiques shop.

  Arabella’s green eyes filled with rage. “Did she have to name us?”

  “Classic Kerri Say-no-more,” Emily said. “Read on.”

  Arabella did. On page three there was a photo that looked like a police artist’s sketch, with the caption “Have You Seen This Man?” Arabella studied it briefly, trying to reconcile the drawing with the man she’d seen with Levon. It was a decent likeness, given that the model had been a corpse.

  Police suspect that the dead man arrived in Lount’s Landing within the past week to ten days. Any person who has seen this man, contact Detective Sheridan Merryfield at 555- 853-5763 to arrange a confidential interview.

  “I suppose it could have been worse,” Arabella said.

  Emily bit her lip. “Actually, it is.”

  11

  Arabella stared at Emily. “What do you mean? How can things be worse than what Kerri is insinuating in the paper?”

  “Check online,” Emily said. “There’s a new local blog. The posts are written by ‘Truth Seeker,’ but I’m positive Kerri is behind it.”

  “How can you be positive if they’re using a pseudonym?”

  “It’s called Outside the Landing.”

  Truth Seeker. Outside the Landing. Arabella wanted to mock the absurdity of it all, but she knew this was no laughing matter. Real lives and hard-earned reputations were at stake. “Catchy.”

  “Not as catchy as what she’s writing on her blog. The headline reads ‘Who is the Miakoda Murderer?’ and the blogger has plenty of factoids to share.”

  Arabella groaned. “Let me read it. I don’t want to be the only one in the Landing to be out of the loop.”

  Emily pushed her tablet toward Arabella. “Here you go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The first thing Arabella noticed was the picture of Levon. The photo was about five years old, taken at a charity auction where Levon had been the auctioneer. They had still been together, barely hanging on to what they had, but trying to get past the stuff that was breaking them up. He looked good, no gray in his shaggy brown hair, the indigo blue eyes clear and guilt-free. She felt a tug somewhere deep inside her stomach and braced herself for the worst.

  This blogger has learned folks have been FAST AND FURIOUS in contacting the Miakoda Falls Police Department after Inside the Landing’s recent report on the murder of Marc Larroquette. While the police are keeping details under wraps, a little bird told this blogger that Levon and Marc Larroquette were ARGUING in the park before the MURDER.

  A prominent local realtor, who has asked to remain anonymous, has confirmed that she was working with Mr. Larroquette at the time of his death. Could they have been arguing about Marc’s decision to BUY A HOME in Lount’s Landing?

  The prominent local realtor had to be Poppy Spencer, Arabella thought. Had Levon known that his father had been house hunting? If so, how many other things was he hiding? She kept reading.

  The realtor went on to say that the senior Larroquette’s second wife, Alice, had had been killed four years ago in an automobile accident in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. The couple had been legally separated at the time of the crash.

  “Marc was haunted by Alice’s untimely death and hoped to reconnect with his son,” the realtor CONFIDED to Outside the Landing.

  Did that decision cost Marc his LIFE? Follow this blog for the LATEST scoop.

  Arabella resisted the urge to throw the tablet across the room. That action wouldn’t solve anything. But what action would?

  Any way you sliced it, Levon was in for a world of hurt.

  Arabella had been waiting for Levon to call. Ironically, when her phone rang later that evening, she wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. She was glad, however, that she was away from the shop and at home. As much as she loved Emily, she didn’t feel like sharing every conversation with her.

  “Have you read the article in Inside the Landing?” Levon asked, without preamble. “Hello to you as well, and yes, I read it.”

  “What about the blog? Outside the Landing?”

  “Read that one, too. Emily and I think Truth Seeker and Kerri St. Amour are one and the same.”

  “No argument here.”

  Arabella paused, wondering how to phrase her next question. She decided to approach it head on. “Did you know your dad was looking at houses?”

  “Don’t call him my dad. That’s a title reserved for men who actually stick around to parent their kids.”

  “Fine. Your father then. I wondered if you knew your father was looking at houses?”

  There was a long silence. So long that Arabella checked her phone to see if the call had been dropped. It hadn’t.

  “Levon? Did you know—”

  There was an audible sigh and then, “Yes. I knew. He actually thought I’d be happy to hear the news. He hired Poppy Spencer. I told him buying here was a poor decision, although maybe not quite that politely. He was adamant. I considered asking Poppy not to represent him, but what good would that do? He’d only find another agent. I stopped at begging him to reconsider his plan, although I’m ashamed to admit the thought crossed my mind. But you know me. I don’t beg, even when I know I’m losing someone I love.”

  It was a not-so-subtle dig at Arabella leaving him when she suspected him of cheating on her. To this day, Levon insisted it was all a big misunderstanding, and while she wanted to be convinced of his innocence, the thought that he’d strayed hurt too much. Even so, she had to do what she could to prove Levon was innocent.

  “Maybe there were others that Marc wronged and wanted to make right.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Do you have any idea who they might be?”

  “No.”

  Was there a slight hesitation before the ‘no?’ Arabella thought there had been, but she couldn’t be sure, and she knew pushing him would get her nowhere.

  She wondered where Marc Larroquette had planned to relocate from and why, but Levon often had a three-question policy. Ask too many questions and he’d just stop answering. It was one of his m
ore annoying habits.

  She thought hard before formulating her next question. What was more important, the “why” or the “where from?” In the end, the “why” won. She’d get Emily to search out the “where from” if Levon didn’t offer the information.

  “Why did your father want to move to Lount’s Landing?”

  Levon laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. “He gave me some malarkey about facing yesterday so he could save someone tomorrow. I told him I didn’t need saving.”

  “Is that what you argued about?”

  “Among other things.”

  Leave her out of it, Levon had said. “What other things?” she asked.

  “He wanted to take the blame for my mother’s suicide. I informed him he was twenty-four years too late, that I’d been blaming him since the day she died, and I’d go on blaming him until—”

  “Until?”

  “Until the day he died.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. Not exactly a conversation I want to relay to Merryfield.”

  “I think it would be better for you to tell him. If he finds out from someone else, it will look worse for you. He’s already caught you in one lie.”

  “Not telling isn’t the same as lying.”

  And there you have it, Arabella thought. The truth, according to Levon.

  12

  Apparently murder is good for the newspaper business. Inside the Landing had gone from a weekly publication to a daily—at least for the time being—and Arabella had been lucky to get one of the last copies at Cozy Corner Convenience. It was obvious Kerri had no new details, but that didn’t stop her from rehashing and sensationalizing what she did know.

  The headline, “Shotgun Fired At Start of Golf Tournament,” was followed by an explanation of what a shotgun tournament was, along with the information that event organizer Gilly Germaine had fired a real shotgun instead of a starter’s pistol. The article went on to say that Levon Larroquette had been acting as the Course Marshal, giving him full access to the course before and during the tournament.

  “She’s a piece of work,” Arabella said, tossing the paper in the blue bin.

  “She is that,” Emily said. “She’s turned a solid small-town newspaper into a tabloid. The upside is she’s probably burned Gilly as a source by mentioning the shotgun.”

  “Small mercies. With friends like Gilly in his corner, Levon doesn’t need enemies.”

  A new blog entry was posted on Outside the Landing less than two hours later, embellishing the few facts Kerri had reported in the paper.

  WHERE WAS LEVON LARROQUETTE?

  On the day of the Miakoda Falls Golf & Country Club’s tournament for Kids Come First, Levon Larroquette, the estranged son of murdered man Marc Larroquette, was acting as Course Marshal. For those readers unfamiliar with the term, a Marshal rides the course to ensure pace of play. Larroquette’s EXACT LOCATION on the course at the time of the murder is unknown, as the golfers in the tournament waited in the parking lot by the clubhouse before the tournament’s start. However, tournament organizer Gilly Germaine confirmed that Levon had been charged with ensuring all was “in order” on the course before the gun announcing the start of the tournament went off.

  The question this blogger has to ask is: Which gun, Gilly? WHICH GUN?

  The next day’s newspaper had fresh news: “Son Blamed Murdered Father For Mother’s Suicide.” The report included details of a “private conversation in the park between father and son,” as well as a request for anyone with additional information to contact the police.

  “Where did Kerri get that information?” Arabella asked Emily as she tried to reach Levon. There

  had been no answer on Levon’s cell, and despite leaving several messages for him, no return call. Her last attempt had been met with a “voice mailbox full for this user” message.

  “Like I said before, she’s the queen of rumor and innuendo,” Emily said. “Maybe she’s just making stuff up. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “She isn’t making stuff up.”

  Emily raised her eyebrows. “What haven’t you been telling me?”

  Arabella filled her in on her last conversation with Levon. It had only been thirty-six hours ago, but it seemed like weeks had passed.

  “We know it wasn’t you who called Kerri. I wonder who it could have been?”

  “Who knows? And really, does it matter? Either way, it looks bad for Levon.”

  “I have to agree with you there.”

  “I asked Levon if there were others.”

  “Others?”

  “Marc wanted to make amends with Levon. Maybe there were others he might have wronged?”

  “Good point. What did Levon say?”

  “That he didn’t know.” Arabella bit her lip. “I wish I believed him. But he hesitated when I asked.

  Only for a fraction of a second, but I heard the pause.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “I need you to find out where Marc Larroquette was living before he decided to pull up roots and move here.” Arabella caught Emily’s look. “I know the police probably know that already, but they’re not about to call and tell me, are they?”

  “You have a point.”

  “Maybe knowing where Marc was living will lead us to the mysterious others. And maybe one of the mysterious others will be the one who murdered Marc Larroquette.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Emily said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Humor me, okay?”

  “Consider yourself humored. What about you? What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve got the Pottageville purchases to sort out. If I keep busy enough, I just might stay sane until Levon calls me back.” No sooner had she spoken the words than her phone rang. She glanced at the call display. Levon. She answered, her emotions alternating between fear and fury.

  “I think the police suspect me of murdering him,” Levon said without preamble. Arabella hated the resignation in his voice.

  “Kerri’s just trying to sell papers and make a name for herself.”

  “I’m pretty sure this is more serious than her desire to make a name for herself. I’ve been asked to come into the Miakoda Falls police station to answer a few questions.”

  “Do you have a lawyer?”

  “I have the guy who handled my real estate transactions and wrote my will. I don’t think he’s equipped to represent a murderer.”

  “You’re not a murderer.”

  “Let’s hope you get selected in my jury trial.”

  “You identified the body. There’s no crime in that.”

  “I also lied at the scene. Merryfield informs me that lying can be viewed as obstruction of justice. I could go to jail for that while the police build a case against me.” Levon’s voice cracked. “I hated my father, but I didn’t kill him. You have to believe me.”

  “I believe you,” Arabella said. But did she?

  Yes, she did. Levon was far from perfect, but he wasn’t violent and he wasn’t a killer. No matter how hard, or passionately they had fought, there had never been a hint of violence.

  “You’re being ridiculous. Did Merryfield say you needed a lawyer?”

  “No, but he did suggest it might be best to have one present during questioning. I don’t know any criminal lawyers. I wondered if you might know one from your days of working at McLelland Insurance.”

  “The only lawyers we dealt with worked in insurance fraud. It’s the wrong specialty.”

  “Gilly might be able to help.”

  “Then by all means call her.”

  “I’m not ready to talk to her. Not yet. Not after what she told Kerri St. Amour.”

  “If it helps, I’ll call her for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Arabella went through her contacts as soon as Levon hung up. She found the entry for Gilly Germaine and dialed. One ring, two rings, three—

  “Arabella?”

  “Levon asked me to call you.”

/>   “Why wouldn’t he just call me himself?” Her tone was a mix between cross and curious, snooty and sincere.

  Because Levon doesn’t trust you, Gilly, and probably for good reason. Because in spite of their past—or maybe because of it—Arabella and Levon were always going to be one another’s first call, whether Gilly wanted to acknowledge it or not.

  Maybe that’s what Aaron meant when he’d told her he couldn’t be number two if there was no chance of becoming number one.

  “The police want to question Levon about the murder of his father.”

  “We were all questioned in the clubhouse.”

  “He’s been asked to go to the Miakoda Falls Police Station for more formal questioning. He thought with your connections you might be able to recommend a good criminal defense lawyer.”

  There was a long silence. “Yet he called you instead of me.”

  “There were other things to discuss.”

  “I see.” Her tone positively icy now.

  Arabella was losing patience. “Do you know someone, or not? Because if you don’t, I have other calls to make.”

  “Let me get back to you with an answer one way or another. I promise to do so within the next two hours.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  The phone rang again just as Emily wandered into the shop. Arabella gave a quick wave of acknowledgment before answering.

  “What do you have for me?”

  Emily tilted her head, raised her eyebrows, and gave Arabella a “who is it” look.

  Arabella ignored her.

  “The name of the lawyer is Isla Kempenfelt,” Gilly said. “She comes highly recommended. She’s young, ambitious, and willing to do whatever it takes to win. Even better, she’s willing to take on Levon’s case pro bono, should he actually get charged with anything. She’s expecting your call.”

  Arabella was already Googling Isla Kempenfelt on her tablet. A photo showed a fine-boned woman with delicate features, wheat-blonde hair, and eyes the color of milk chocolate. Her office was in Marketville, the largest town in Cedar County, located thirty minutes south of Lount’s Landing.