by Cat Chandler
“Does his girlfriend live in Henley Bay?” Nicki asked.
“Not in the Brewer part of it.” Lydia rolled her eyes when Matt frowned. “There’re three small towns around the bay, all of them about seven miles apart with their own inlets. Brewer, Massey and Edington. We’re in Brewer. My cradle-robbing ex’s girlfriend lives in Massey.”
Nicki made a mental note to pull up a map of the area off the internet. “And where did Robin live?”
“Here in Brewer. Our house, that is the one he got in the divorce, is right on the water, at the edge of town.”
Matt inclined his head toward the pictures on the mantel. “How old is your daughter, Mrs. Boral?”
A smile softened up the angular lines of Lydia’s face. “Tina is twenty-one. Just barely. Her birthday was a couple of weeks ago.”
“Were she and her dad close?” Matt asked.
Lydia shrugged. “Not particularly. She was fifteen when we got the divorce, and at least Robin always did the correct thing. You know, showing up at major events in Tina’s life, getting her a present for her birthday and Christmas, but he didn’t do much more than that.” She snorted out a laugh. “And Tina’s pretty typical for her age. She calls him whenever she needs extra money.”
When Lydia made a pointed glance at her watch, Nicki decided she’d better get to the big question. “Where were you when Robin was killed, Mrs. Boral?”
“Depends on when he was killed. Since Tina is her father’s closest relative, the police paid her a visit to inform her about Robin, and Tina only told me that he was murdered. Not when it happened. If it was yesterday morning, then I was home alone, sleeping until nine a.m. I was out late the night before with some friends.”
Matt gave Nicki a sideways glance before focusing his attention on the woman sitting across from him. “What about Tina?”
Lydia narrowed her eyes. “What about her? She was at school a good two hours from here. And she doesn’t have a car. She doesn’t need one to get around in the city.”
“What about the ferry?” Matt persisted. “Is there a ferry that runs from Seattle to Brewer?”
“No, there isn’t.” Lydia got to her feet. “I have an appointment.”
Nicki stood up as well, extending a hand across the coffee table. Lydia hesitated before taking it in her own, giving it a single quick shake before dropping it like a hot stone.
“I was wondering,” Nicki said as she slowly walked toward the front door. “Do you know about the bottle of wine Robin got from his father?”
Lydia looked genuinely surprised. “Wine? From the lieutenant? My former father-in-law wasn’t a drinker. He rarely kept beer in his refrigerator much less a bottle of wine.” She frowned for a moment. “I seem to remember he had a bottle that he was pretty proud of. He had it the whole time I was with Robin. I think he brought it out and passed it around to show everyone at a dinner party once but since he wasn’t going to open it, I didn’t pay much attention. I thought I heard him say something about getting it during the war, but it’s more likely it was a gift from his wife.” Lydia almost smiled as she opened the front door. “Now that woman liked fine wines. A trait she passed along to her son.”
The minute Nicki and Matt stepped out on the porch, Lydia shut the door behind them. They looked at each other and Nicki laughed when Matt crossed his eyes. Taking her hand in his, they walked together toward the car. Matt opened the door for her before going around and sliding into his seat behind the wheel. He looked over at her and grinned.
“Pleasant woman.”
“A real gem,” Nicki agreed solemnly. “How fast can you get us out of here?”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Nicki and Matt were enjoying a glass of wine, and the view, at the bar off the lobby of the St. Armand hotel. It was a picture-perfect day, with the sun adding a glittering top to the beautiful blue of the bay that was surrounded by the deep green of an army of trees. Numbering in the thousands, they marched up the hillsides and disappeared into the mysterious rain forest of the Olympic National Park.
Nicki absolutely loved the picture it made, all laid out in its bold colors. But in the distance, she could see the puffs of gray as the rain clouds made a steady path toward them. Rain and sun seemed to do a constant dance together in the Northwest, and especially around Seattle. As lush, green, and lovely as everything here was, Nicki still preferred the more reliable sun and heat in California. It certainly beat the New York winters, although she did feel the nostalgic tug of her childhood home when there wasn’t a flake of snow in sight on Christmas day.
She glanced over at Matt who smiled back at her. “Do you miss Kansas when you travel?”
“I’m usually not away long enough to miss it,” Matt said. “Why? Are you thinking of moving?”
“No.” Nicki shook her head. “I’ve grown used to seeing hills around me.”
Matt rolled his eyes at the usual joke about how flat Kansas was. “It’s not bad. Except for a few months in the winter.” He sat back and studied her for a moment. “Do you miss New York?”
“Sometimes,” Nicki conceded. “Mostly at Christmas. And on Mom’s birthday since I can’t visit her.” Nicki’s mom was buried in a cemetery just outside the city she’d loved so much.
“Have you heard from that cold-case detective lately?”
The gentle concern in Matt’s voice had Nicki’s eyes misting over. “No. I have it on my calendar to call him the week after the wedding.”
Matt nodded and his gaze drifted back to the entire wall of windows in the bar. “How about Washington as a compromise?”
Nicki managed a tiny smile when he looked back at her. “A compromise for what?”
“Between California and Kansas?” Matt grinned.
She glanced at the clouds that were rolling in from across the bay. “It’s a little wet here. But not a bad place.”
“Then I’ll add it to the list.”
“What list?”
He shrugged, but was saved from having to explain when Nicki’s phone rang. She looked at the screen before answering. “Hi, Amanda.” She was silent as Amanda chirped into her ear. “Okay. That is good news. I’ll pass it along to the bride and her mom and then see you tomorrow.”
Matt took a pretzel out of the bowl the waitress had set on the table. “I guess I won’t have to make a trip to Sea-Tac after all?”
“Nope.” Nicki smiled. “Amanda thinks she’s found another supplier. A little more expensive, but the St. Armand is going to cover the difference. She’ll know all the details tomorrow. And something has come up so she can’t meet with us until tomorrow either.”
“Okay. Since we have a few minutes, do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Of course not.” Nicki set her wine glass down and gave Matt her full attention. “Ask away.”
He nodded and drew in a deep breath. “Are you interested in Chief Thomas?”
Nicki blinked. She certainly hadn’t expected that. “Clay?”
Matt’s mouth turned down. “Yeah, Clay.”
“No. He’s too, well too…” Nicki broke off and frowned, searching for the right word.
“Too?” Matt prompted.
“Focused? Outdoorsy? Washington? I don’t know.” Nicki tapped a fingernail against the tabletop. “I wonder if he was ever in the military, like the special forces or something like that?” Nicki smiled at a suddenly much more relaxed-looking Matt. “I think he either needs someone just like him, or someone a lot more mellow than I am.” She leaned over and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have it from the highest source that he’s interested in the owner of the local diner.”
Grinning, Matt leaned over the table as well. “Oh yeah? Who’s your source, Miss Connors?”
“Sally, the barista at the coffee cart in the lobby.”
“Great source.” Matt grinned and straightened back up. “But if you find this place too outdoorsy, then I guess I’ll have to take it off the list.”
“Wha
t list?” Nicki asked again.
This time Matt was saved by his phone ringing.
“Hello?” He raised an eyebrow at Nicki. “Hi, Chief. What can I do for you?” He covered the bottom of his phone with and his large hand and mouthed “Thomas” at Nicki. “Yeah, she’s right here. Uh huh. Now? Sure.” Matt took a pen out of his pocket and turned his cocktail napkin over. “Give me an address.” He scribbled some indecipherable marks. “Okay. We’ll see you soon.”
Nicki shot him a questioning look. “What did the chief want?”
“For us to pay him a visit. And he said now would be good.”
She pushed back her chair and picked up her purse, waiting while Matt signed the bill since she knew it would be useless to argue with him. In some things, he was just an old-fashioned guy.
Once the valet had retrieved Matt’s car, they made the twenty-minute trip to Massey, the largest of the three towns along the shores of Henley Bay. The police station was closer to the far edge of the town, and a lot larger than Nicki had expected. When they walked up to the long counter in a fairly spacious waiting room, the officer behind the desk looked up and smiled at them. “Can I help you?”
“We have an appointment,” Nicki said.
“With the ISD or the local police?”
“Um, local police. Chief Thomas? We’re Nicki Connors and Matt Dillon.”
The friendly officer kept his smile and picked up a phone extension. He nodded his head at some chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll let Clay know you’re here.”
As they walked away, Matt leaned over and whispered in Nicki’s ear. “Investigative Services Division. The ISD. They’re the law enforcement for the National Park Service.”
“Oh.” Nicki had never heard of the ISD, but then she’d never even set foot in a national park. Unless you counted Ellis Island where the Statue of Liberty kept vigil over the waterway into New York City. So far, she hadn’t even made it to Yosemite, which was less than a day’s drive from where she lived in Soldoff. Central Park in NYC was the only park with trees and walking paths that she was remotely familiar with.
Chief Thomas appeared in the open doorway behind the desk officer and gestured for them to follow him. Nicki and Matt skirted around the counter and chased the chief’s long-legged stride down a busy hallway. Or at least Nicki did. Matt had no trouble keeping pace with Clay Thomas.
The chief stopped at a door halfway down the hall and stepped aside to allow Nicki and Matt to go into the office first. Taking a seat in one of the three available chairs situated in front of a typical metal desk, Nicki looked around. There were several diplomas as well as commendations hanging on the wall. One bestowed a master’s degree in Criminal Justice on Clayton Thomas. It was from Florida State University.
That’s a long way from here, Nicki mused as she continued to scan the wall. When she was done, she realized there was complete silence in the room. Matt was staring at her with a decided sparkle in his eyes, while Clay was leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled together as he waited patiently for her to finish.
Nicki smiled at the chief. “Impressive.”
He looked over at Matt. “Is she always this curious?”
“Afraid so.”
The police chief with the Hollywood good looks grinned at Matt. “You have your hands full.”
“I don’t mind.”
“She’s right here and can hear every word,” Nicki declared. She gave Matt an exasperated look, shaking her head when he only shrugged in return, before switching that same exasperated look to the chief.
“You called us, so what can we do for you?” She paused for a moment. “And why do you have Matt’s cell number?”
“I called Chief Turnlow to get it. Along with yours and several others.” He consulted a sheet of paper lying on his desk. “An Alex, Ty, Jenna, and Maxie.” He looked up and smiled. “Did I miss anyone?”
Nicki crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think so. Why did you ask Chief Turnlow for our cell numbers?”
“Just making sure I have the contact numbers for everyone who might jump into my case. Your police chief said that you’re all like a little cooking club, with a side job of solving murders.”
Yep. Very thorough and definitely military training somewhere. Nicki sighed. “Okay.”
“I wanted to hear how your interview with Lydia Boral went, since I’ll be talking to her tomorrow morning. And to bring you up to speed on a few things I’ve come across.”
Unfolding her arms, Nicki relented and returned the chief’s smile. She certainly didn’t mind a little sharing.
“Well first, Chief…”
“Clay, Nicki. Call me Clay. I’m not big on titles.”
“All right,” Nicki said, starting again. “First, Clay, you interview people, I just talk to them. And there’s no doubt that Lydia was definitely antagonistic toward Robin.”
“Who wasn’t she antagonistic about?” Matt cut in.
“Very true,” Nicki agreed. “She didn’t seem to care much for Paul or someone named Mink, who apparently lives here in Massey and was Robin’s girlfriend.” Nicki sighed. “And who Lydia claims has an I.Q. of about twenty.”
“Michelle Fusion,” Clay supplied. “She shortened it to Mink because she liked how it sounds. And her I.Q isn’t as low as Lydia said.” Clay paused and rubbed a hand across his chin. “But pretty close, to be honest.”
“Anyway,” Nicki went on. “Lydia has been ducking you because she wanted to get hold of her lawyer first. Who I assume will be present when you interview her tomorrow.”
Clay nodded. “Thanks for the warning.”
“She’s concerned because she thinks you might be looking at her as the prime suspect. First because she’s the ex-wife, and second because of the will.”
The police chief sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Robin’s will? I assumed his daughter would inherit everything, so it hasn’t been high on my list.”
“Lydia thinks her daughter, Tina, should inherit everything, but she didn’t know if Robin had changed his will to say that after their divorce.”
“So in the last will she knows about, Robin left everything to Lydia?”
“That’s right.” Nicki sent her hair sliding across her shoulders when she nodded. “Except for the business. That’s excluded from the will. Lydia owns part of it, but only because she gave up her interest in the house after the divorce.”
The chief put his forearms on the desk and leaned forward. “Who gets the business?”
“Paul Franklin or Brad Ashton, depending on the wording in the will. Lydia couldn’t remember.”
“But not the daughter?”
Nicki shrugged. “It depends on whether or not Robin made a new will after the divorce.”
“So I need to put getting a look at that will at the top of my ‘to-do’ list.” Clay glanced over at Matt when the editor let out a low chuckle. “What?”
He inclined his head at Nicki. “She keeps one of those too. Usually on the murder board that’s in her office.”
Clay looked over at Nicki, his mouth half opened. “A murder board? You have a murder board in your office? I mean a board that lists the suspects, evidence, motives, that kind of thing?”
“Yep,” Matt said as Nicki turned a bright shade of red. “Exactly that kind of thing.”
“Well. Isn’t that interesting?”
Clay narrowed his eyes and continued to study Nicki until she began to feel like a bug in a glass jar.
“You said you had something to share?” she asked politely, pressing her elbow into Matt’s side to get him to stay quiet.
The chief slid a piece of paper across his desk. “That’s for you. A list of the employees at Robin’s Catering, and the shifts they work, in case you’d like to drop in on a few. There’re four of them, and they’re all what they call a sous chef. Except for one. Andrew. He’s the head cook.”
“Chef,” Nicki said as she picked up the list. “He’s the head chef and if t
he others are sous chefs, they’re underneath him.” She frowned at one name on the list. “Andrew Benson? I went to school with an Andrew Benson.”
“Grade school, high school, or college?” Clay asked.
“Cooking school?” Matt guessed, his gaze on Nicki’s face, smiling when she nodded.
“You went to cooking school?” Now the chief’s mouth dropped wide open. “So on top of being a writer and the solver of murders, you’re also really a chef?”
“Which is why I write about food,” Nicki said reasonably. “And wine.”
“And she cooks for us. Which is a definite perk of this little club,” Matt said, earning him another elbow in his side.
“I’d ask to join, but we have some pretty good cooks around Henley Bay. Maybe not chef quality, but definitely worth trying out.”
Giving into the little devil on her shoulder prodding her on, Nicki’s mouth turned up into a wide smile. “I love local diners. Good food, and lots of great gossip.”
She kept her smile, enjoying the streak of red creeping across Clay’s perfect features. Hah! Nice to know she wasn’t the only one who could be embarrassed. She decided she just might have to drop in at the Sunny Side Up eatery that Sally had mentioned, and get a look at the woman who could make Clay Thomas blush.
Next to her, Matt cleared his throat. “Is there anyone in particular on that list we should talk to?”
“The baking assistant,” Clay promptly said. “She’s the only one Robin worked with on a daily basis, and just about the only person at the company he was nice to.” Clay shrugged. “The motive here could be as simple as an argument that got out of hand. Robin Boral didn’t seem to get along well with others. And if anyone can tell you about that missing bottle of wine you’re so interested in, she can.”
“No, he didn’t get along well with anyone. At least I haven’t met anyone who liked him yet, except maybe for Paul.” Nicki folded the list and tucked it away in her purse, taking out her cell phone when it beeped for an incoming text. She looked over at Matt and held the screen out for him to see before smiling at the chief. “I’m sorry. But we need to go.”
