Murder Is Where the Heart Is

by Maddie Cochere

  The sound of breaking glass sounded from downstairs. Pepper jumped. I put a finger to my lips to let her know to be quiet. We both stood in the bedroom doorway and strained to hear any other sounds.

  “What if the police catch us here?” she whispered. “We’ll be arrested for breaking and entering.”

  “We aren’t breaking and entering,” I whispered back. “We have Alan’s permission to be here.” I looked her over again and smiled. “But they might arrest you for fashion crimes.”

  She gave me a shove and promptly lost her balance in Bailey’s too-small heels. She let out a loud whoops, before crashing to the carpet.

  A door slammed downstairs. It sounded like it came from the back of the house. I took off running down the stairs and through the kitchen. The bottle of champagne that had been overturned on the island was now shattered on the tile floor.

  The noise wouldn’t have come from the sliding glass doors to the pool. I ran down a small hallway off the kitchen. It led to a utility room with a door that opened onto the side yard. I ran out and saw a man racing through the back yards of Alan’s neighbors. He was at least three houses down.

  I was already out of breath from running down the stairs and through the house. There was no way I was lumbering across the neighbor’s lawns. I didn’t have a prayer of catching up to him anyway.

  I climbed the stairs to the bedroom again, and although I was winded, I burst into laughter when I caught sight of Pepper.

  “I couldn’t get up, and you ran off so fast. Did you see who it was?”

  Somehow, she had righted herself, but the zipper of the slinky black dress she had poured herself into had separated in the area of her behind. Her big yellow granny panty butt stuck out through the gaping hole.”

  “Quit laughing and unzip me.”

  I didn’t quit laughing, but I grabbed the zipper and tugged. It didn’t budge. I tried to hold the teeth together as best I could and tugged again. The pull tab wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Sorry, Pepper. You’re wearing it home. Get your clothes and let’s get out of here.”

  I grabbed the leopard thong, furry handcuffs, and the bowtie and slipped them into my purse.

  “Wait a minute,” she said.

  I watched as she studied Bailey’s expertly displayed perfume collection on the top of the dresser.

  “Do you think Alan will miss it if I take the Chanel?”

  I smiled. “I’ll tell him you took the Chanel. I’m sure he won’t care.”

  “Tell him about the dress, and tell him I’m sorry I ruined it. And tell him I’m wearing some of Bailey’s jewelry.” She set several colorful eye shadows on top of her clothes before gathering them up. “Tell him about the makeup, too.” She gave me a big smile. “This was a good idea. I think we accomplished a lot today.”

  ~ ~ ~

  As Arnie would say, I rubbed out Brick Brack. Then I rubbed out Leslie and Doug Preston. Kate Fuller was already rubbed out.

  It felt good to erase the whiteboard. Arnie was right. I didn’t need to look into who killed Kate or who abducted Leslie. Now that Doug had a ransom note, it was only a matter of time before they found Leslie, and once they did that, they would likely have some clues as to who murdered Kate.

  It was time to start working anew.

  In the middle of the board, I wrote Bailey Ravens. She was focal point of the two murders.

  Bailey Ravens. It was a nice enough name, but I thought Jo Ravens had a nicer ring to it. If they divorced, would Bailey have gone back to her maiden name or kept Alan’s like I did?

  I don’t know what Mama and my never-to-be-spoken-of-long-lost-father had been thinking when they named me Jo. It wasn’t short for anything. I was just Jo. It was a cruel name to bestow upon a girl considering our last name was Frasier. The spelling might have been different, but that didn’t keep the guys in high school from calling me Smokin’ Jo when I was anything but smokin’. Mama insisted she wasn’t the one who came up with the name, but she apparently hadn’t worked very hard to talk my father out of it.

  Pepper fared better. Mama didn’t deny she had named Pepper after one of her favorite seventies television characters - Angie Dickinson in Police Woman. Mama thought her nickname of Pepper was fantastic and would make a good name for a child.

  But no one had it as bad as Hank. At school, he tried like crazy to keep his given name a secret. He was named after Grandpa Frasier’s favorite cartoon dog – Huckleberry Hound. He was called Huck at first, but Pepper couldn’t say his name clearly, and Mama had to apologize far too often for what people thought she was saying. He had the nickname of Hank before he was a year old.

  Suffice it to say, I had no intention of ever going back to Jo Frasier again.

  I circled Bailey’s name, drew a line straight across from it, and wrote Vicious Vic Cabrillo. I circled Vic’s name.

  A descending line from Bailey led to Alan’s name. From Alan’s, I drew a line to mine. After all, I had found the bodies and could soon become a suspect.

  A third line from Bailey led to Mike Shay, ex-wrestler, now art teacher. A last line from Bailey led to Gretchen Grayson. Vic had one line – over to Make Shay. So far, it was the only name connecting the two murder victims.

  In the lower left corner, I jotted down the items from the house – thong, handcuffs, bowtie. If they weren’t Alan’s, they might belong to the killer.

  There wasn’t any reason to note the man running from Alan’s house today. I had only seen the back of him in the distance. I couldn’t even make out his hair color.

  At the top of the board, I wrote the word motive. There were two words to supply – infidelity and divorce.

  I studied all of the information.

  There was only one conclusion to make. Alan was a murderer.

  Chapter Ten

  Manhood. I had seen more manhood in the last two days than I had seen in the last several years. If I was a blusher, my face would have been beet red from all the manhood before me now. Instead, I was doing a lot of staring.

  Pepper giggled like a schoolgirl. I took a page out of Hank’s playbook and jabbed my elbow into her side.

  Jackie walked around the room like she owned the place. I expected her to take out her pen and notebook and start doing interviews.

  We had walked in on Mike Shay’s class in progress. The students were definitely learning to draw nudes right now. The class of twelve women each had their own nude male to draw. The models ranged from good looking to downright frightening, and from toned and gorgeous to fat and layered. None were self-conscious. One was aroused. Pepper giggled again.

  “If you don’t stop that within the next five seconds, you’re going to have to wait in the car,” I whispered to her.

  She had no intention of leaving the legal display of nudity. Her laughter dried up in a hurry.

  Mike finished making a pass around the room to look at the drawings in progress and offer advice. Jackie wasn’t far behind him and was expressing her admiration for the likenesses being drawn. I heard her refer to specific body parts as well as details regarding moles, pimples, and excessive amounts of hair. She was braver than I was for sure. I held my ground near the doorway.

  Mike approached me with what looked like a sympathetic smile.

  “You must be Jo Ravens. My girl said you called and would be by this afternoon. I recognized you right away from Bailey’s description.”

  Why would Bailey have told Mike about me? Did his smile reflect his sympathy for my appearance or for the murder of his friends? I didn’t ask.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pepper making her way around the room to look more closely at the models and the artwork. I didn’t even attempt to explain Jackie or Pepper to him.

  I held out my business card and said, “I assume the police have already talked with you, but Bailey’s husband asked me to look into her murder. I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me.”

  “Sure, but I don’t think there’s anythi
ng I can tell you that would be of any help. I didn’t have anything to help the police with their investigation either.”

  I didn’t waste any time getting right to my main question. “Did you know Bailey and Vic were sleeping together?”

  He flinched at the question. “I heard he was modeling for her at the time of the murder. The police didn’t say anything about them sleeping together.”

  “The police might not know. I want to know if you knew.”

  He lowered his voice and said, “I knew. Vic modeled for classes every now and then. When he saw her here about a month ago, he asked for an introduction. Whatever they did after that was their business, but Vic wasn’t very discreet, so I knew what was going on”

  “Were they serious?”

  He smiled at that. “Vic? Serious? Vic wasn’t serious about any woman. He was a player through and through. I figured Bailey knew what she was getting into. I never asked her about him.”

  “Did Bailey ever mention Alan?”

  “We had dinner every now and then. Alan was on the road a lot, so it was easy for her to grab a bite to eat after an evening class. So, yeah, she talked about him.”

  “Did you know she wanted a divorce?”

  “She mentioned it a few times.”

  Something else was going on here. Mike’s countenance changed, and I was now picking up a jealousy vibe from him. I asked very directly, “Did you ever sleep with Bailey?”

  The look on his face let me know I was on the right track. He didn’t try to deny it.

  “Off and on. Sometimes she was lonely, and sometimes I wanted to help her not be lonely. It worked out for both of us.”

  A new theory was forming in my head.

  “Do you have any idea who would have wanted to murder them?” I asked.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Nobody other than her husband. Officer Collins said Alan came home, caught them naked by the pool, and shot them. Seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

  I nodded and looked around the room. The girls were still scrutinizing artwork.

  “Why do you have so many models? I thought there was always one for a class, and everyone drew the same model.”

  He smiled. “I used to have one, maybe two, students at a time. When I started providing a nude model for each student, my business increased so much, I had to start a waiting list.”

  Smart man. I signaled to Jackie that I was ready to leave.

  Jackie grabbed Pepper’s arm as she passed her by. Pepper was excited as we made our way outside.

  “Now that’s a hobby I could get into. How much do you think it costs to take classes?”

  Jackie pulled a small flyer out of her purse. “I picked this up on our way in. It’s eight hundred dollars for the full course, or sixty five each if you pick your classes a la carte.”

  “So I can pay sixty five dollars a few times and learn to draw nudes?”

  I couldn’t believe Pepper was considering the classes at all. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been hanging around Mama too much. Buck would have a fit if he knew you were in a room full of naked men while he was out of town.”

  She laughed. “I know. I’m not really serious, but it would be fun.”

  But I thought she was serious, and if Jackie or I had encouraged her, she would have turned around and signed up for drawing nudes in a heartbeat.

  “Let me see that,” I said to Jackie and held my hand out for the flyer.

  I looked it over and saw the studio was closed on Sundays and Mondays. The murders occurred on Monday. Mike Shay just became my prime suspect.

  I told the girls to wait, and I walked back into the studio. Mike was still standing near the door.

  “I’m kind of new at this investigator thing,” I told him. “I forgot to ask you the most important question. Where were you on Monday at two forty-five in the afternoon?”

  He smiled. “I was over in Patterson buying supplies for the studio. Greely’s Art House. Art Greely will vouch for me.”

  I thanked him for his time and left. I would give Art Greely a call later.

  I didn’t share my suspicions with Jackie and Pepper. Jackie was engaged in a rapid-fire text exchange with someone on her phone. Pepper was still agog over the men in the studio.

  “I have to run,” Jackie said. “There’s an accident on Valley between a car and a semi. They can’t find Doug, so I have to go. Can you guys get a ride home?”

  “No problem,” I told her. “I’ll give Alan a call and have him come get us.”

  She rushed off. I dialed Alan’s cell phone number. It rang several times, but he didn’t pick up, and it didn’t go to voice mail. I tried again. Still no answer.

  He hadn’t said anything about leaving the house. I tried calling my red phone.

  “Two women and a writer. Is your spouse cheating on you? Is your cat being held for ransom? Do you need someone to kill your mother-in-law? These broads are on your case today. What can we do for you?”

  I was momentarily speechless. Not only was I astounded that he had answered my red phone, but what came out of his mouth made me want to run home and strangle him.

  “Hello?” he asked.

  “What in the world are you doing?” I yelled.

  “Nothing. I have your mother on my cell phone. We’ve been catching up.”

  I was absolutely going to kill him. “You are no longer part of my family, Alan. I don’t want you catching up with Mama. And don’t you dare answer my red phone again. You’ll scare all of my business away.”

  “Stop being so dramatic,” he said. “Mama loves me. She always has. And you need to answer your business phone with something catchy. I already booked two new gigs for you, so what’s the problem?”

  I sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing with him. “Get off the phone with Mama and come pick Pepper and me up at Mike Shay’s. Jackie had to run after a story, and we’re stranded down here.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he said cheerfully.

  In light of everything that had happened this week, his cheerfulness continued to irritate me. It didn’t help that Pepper laughed when I told her how he had answered the phone.

  We sat on a city bench to wait for him.

  “Did you talk to Glenn yet about Alan staying at your house?”

  “No, but I will when I see him tonight at Mama’s. Is she cooking or are you taking the food?”

  “Mama’s cooking. I think she’s making lasagna.”

  Lasagna sounded good. I was looking forward to having a break from both Alan and the murders. After I had finished working on the whiteboard last evening and had gone downstairs to sit with him, he had talked my ear off about his success since our divorce. Food-grade plastic bags were of no interest to me, and I couldn’t help yawning several times while he attempted to fill me on two years’ worth of clients.

  My thoughts of lasagna and Alan’s narcissism were interrupted by a man walking a Scottish Terrier across the street. The dog was refusing to obey and fighting the leash.

  I jumped up and ran toward the man while calling out, “Angus. Angus McFeely.”

  The man looked at me like I was a crazy woman. The dog wagged his tail. I was sure he recognized his name.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but this dog has been reported as stolen. You’re going to have to wait here while I call an officer.”

  The man grabbed the dog up in his arms and said indignantly, “I beg your pardon. This dog is not stolen. I’ve owned this dog for seven years.”

  “He responded to his name when I called him, and he was fighting your leash. Those are not signs of a dog belonging to you.”

  “You insult me by calling my Bitsy a he, and she was fighting because this is the first time she has been on a leash.” He held the dog up so I could see between its hind legs. There was no dog manhood. “You go right ahead and call the police,” he said. “I’ll report you for harassment.”

  I extended my apologies and scurried back across the street. Pepper was laughing so hard at
my blunder, she was crying. I ignored her.

  “I wanted to talk with Gretchen Grayson today. I probably won’t have time now.”

  She stopped laughing and made a face. “Why would you want to talk with her? She was a horrible person in school.”

  “She was Bailey’s best friend. I’m hoping she can shed some light on some of the men she was seeing. She might know who wanted to kill Bailey.”

  Pepper nodded her head. “I want to go with you when you talk to her. I want to see what she looks like seventeen years later.

  “Don’t hold your breath. If she was a friend of Bailey’s, you can bet she still looks like a million bucks.”

  We spent the next several minutes reminiscing about high school until Alan showed up. You would have thought he and Pepper had been best friends their entire lives the way they carried on when they saw each other. They chatted up a storm on the way home. I sulked in the back seat. Everything about my world right now was off-kilter.

  Alan dropped Pepper at the bottom of her drive. He swung around the cul-de-sac and pulled across the bottom of my drive. He looked at me in the rear view mirror and said, “I have some things to do. I’ll see you tonight.”

  I was relieved he wasn’t coming in.

  I dashed upstairs and took a shower before getting ready for dinner. I wanted to change into something nice, since I would be seeing Glenn at Mama’s.

  Before I left, I popped into the murder room and added my new theory to the board. Mike Shay was jealous of Bailey’s relationship with Vicious Vic. In a jealous rage, he killed both of them.

  I stood back from the board and studied the information again. There was a new word to add for motive – jealousy.

  Arnie wouldn’t be happy that I didn’t have any real evidence to support my accusations against Mike, but I didn’t care. I felt better now that I believed once again that Alan wasn’t responsible for the murders.

  ~ ~ ~