by Maria Geraci
I look at Archie’s picture again. Just like his professor disguise, he pulls off the mild-mannered businessman well. “What would be his motive for killing Pike?”
“What’s everyone’s motive? Money. We figure that over the years, the two of them have hustled at least ten million off their victims.”
Ten million dollars. Holy wow.
“But that makes no sense. If Jefferson Pike and Archie Clements had ten million dollars stashed away, why come here and pull a small-time publishing scam? What they got here was peanuts compared to ten million.”
“Exactly. This sting was unusual for them. For one thing, the potential money to be made was low, and the publishing angle is something they’ve never done before. They were on their way to Key West and then eventually the Cayman Islands when they stopped here in Whispering Bay. They could have argued about the operation or the money. Or any other number of things.”
“I’m still confused. Why do you want my opinion again?”
“Because I want to offer him a deal. A highly reduced sentence in exchange for the location of that ten million dollars. The restitution to his victims will go a long way to softening a federal judge. But he’s not getting a cushy deal if he’s a murderer.”
I hesitate a moment before saying, “As a matter of fact, I already asked him if he killed Jefferson Pike.”
She looks at Travis, then back at me. “Did you? I won’t ask why you’re interested because frankly, I don’t care. You can play Nancy Drew all you want, and as long as it benefits me, I’ll cheer you on from the sidelines. Jefferson Pike’s murder, while messy, is a local matter. The cops here can handle it. Unless, like I said, Archie Clements is the killer. Then that interferes with my case, and it does become my business.” She leans forward. “So, what did he say? I want to know your take on it. Did he kill Jefferson Pike?”
“He says he didn’t. And I believe him.”
She nods crisply. “Good. Frankly, I would have been surprised if he’d done it. Not his style at all.”
“So, that’s it. You’re going to take my word on it?”
“Right now, the evidence doesn’t support Archie killing Jefferson Pike,” says Travis.
“If the local police aren’t going to charge Archie with Jefferson’s murder, then that’s good enough for me. All that concerns me is clearing this real estate scam off my desk.”
“You really think that Archie will tell you where the money is in exchange for a reduced sentence? Because something tells me he’s the type that wouldn’t mind spending a decade or so in prison if it means coming out to ten million. He’s not young, but he’s not ancient either.”
She pulls another file out of her tote and tosses it across the desk. “Meet Archie Clements’s daughter.”
I open the file to find a single sheet. At the top is a picture of a young woman with mousy brown hair and frightened-looking eyes. “Anita Tremble is Archie’s daughter?”
Boy, did I get that relationship wrong.
“Archie didn’t know Anita existed until about six months ago. That’s when the mother got in touch with Archie and told him he had a daughter. The girl had been going through a rough patch, and Archie wanted to help her. We’re not sure exactly how she got involved in the con, but it’s enough to give us the leverage we need against Archie. So far, the charges against her are minimal, but if Archie doesn’t cough up the location of that money, then we’re prepared to hit Anita with enough charges to keep her in prison for a good five to seven years.”
“And you think he cares about her enough to give up the money?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
This one’s a no-brainer. “Yes, he’s very protective of her. I think he’ll tell you where the money is if it helps her.”
Billings sits back in the chair, looking satisfied. “Excellent. Your intel is going to help me put the squeeze on this guy.” She collects her files and puts them back in her tote. “You know, Lucy, you should think about applying to the Bureau. With your skills, you’d make an excellent interrogator. If you can pass the tests, I’ll try to make sure you and Fontaine go through basic training together.”
“What?” I flip around in my seat to face Travis. “You’re joining the FBI?”
He glares at Agent Billings before saying, “I’m thinking about it.”
“Oh. I thought … Never mind.” It makes sense now. Travis and Patricia Billings aren’t involved. She’s recruiting him for the FBI.
If Travis joins the FBI, then that means he’ll be leaving Whispering Bay. Which means he can’t seriously want to date me. Which means I’m off the hook. I don’t have to worry about hurting his feelings when I tell him that I’ve chosen Will. This is great news.
Only, for some reason, it doesn’t feel great. My chest feels tight. I think I know how the Grinch felt when his heart suddenly grew three sizes too big. Except my heart was already regular size, so this doesn’t feel good at all.
I can’t believe it, but I think I’m going to miss the big lug.
“Don’t think too long about that offer,” Agent Billings says to him. “Opportunities like this don’t come around often.” She puts her tote over her shoulder. “Thanks again, Lucy. Looks like I owe you twice now.” She walks out the door and calls for Rusty to take her to see Archie Clements.
“The FBI, huh?” I say to Travis.
“Sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like that. I told her I was thinking about it. Doesn’t mean I’m going to take it.”
“Well, you should. It sounds like a great opportunity. You don’t want to be stuck here in Whispering Bay for the rest of your life, do you?”
He goes to say something, then shakes his head instead. But it feels like it might have been the most important thing that anyone’s ever said to me.
“What were you going to say?” I hold my breath waiting for his answer.
“I was going to say how lucky you are that your little scheme to visit Archie Clements didn’t blow up in your face.”
That’s not what he was going to say, but I’ll give him a pass.
“If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?” he asks.
“It depends on the question.”
He raises a brow at me.
“Hey, I’m being honest here.”
“I’m going to go one step further than Billings. In your truth or dare session with Clements, did you ask him who did kill Jefferson Pike?”
Oh no. I swallow hard. “Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
“He doesn’t know who killed him. He wasn’t there, so it’s not like he’s a witness or anything.”
“But he has an idea?”
“Yes,” I squeak.
“And?” he prompts impatiently.
Once again, I’m faced with a conundrum. I could lie to Travis. I could tell him anything and he wouldn’t know if I was telling the truth or not, but something here isn’t right. My stomach curls into a knot. Just like before, I can’t lie to him. It’s … physically impossible. What’s going on here?
“Archie thinks that the real J.W. Quicksilver is the killer. But that doesn’t mean he’s right. It’s just what he thinks. Which means it could be anyone. How many people did they swindle in Whispering Bay? Ten? And that’s just here. What about all those other people they swindled in all those other scams? It sounds to me like there’s a lot of people who had a motive to kill Pike.”
“True. That’s why I’m not ruling anyone out. At this point in the investigation, all of Pike’s victims, including J.W. Quicksilver, are suspect, and I’m bringing them all in for questioning.”
“But you don’t know J.W. Quicksilver’s real identity, so how are you going to find him to bring him in?”
“I don’t know his identity yet. But I will. And soon.”
“How? He’s like the world’s most reclusive author.”
“Simple. I called his publisher in New York and explained the situation. I told them I needed J.W.
Quicksilver’s real name and address in connection with a murder investigation.”
“And they just gave it to you?”
“No, but I got a friendly judge involved, and he issued an order at noon today. Quicksilver’s publishing company has twenty-four hours to cough up his name or be held in contempt of court.” He grins. “I figure if J.W. Quicksilver is still in the area, I’ll have him in my jail for questioning by lunchtime tomorrow.”
Chapter Fifteen
“This is bad,” I tell Will. In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve managed to nearly pace a hole in his living-room rug, with Paco following in my tracks. “Really bad.”
Will, who up to now has been listening silently while I’ve filled him in on what’s happening down at the police station, pushes his glasses up his nose. “Then there’s nothing left to do but go to the police.”
“What did your editor say when he called?”
When I got to Will’s house, he was on a conference call with both his editor and his agent. “He said it was my decision if I wanted to come out. That the publishing house would be happy to fight the court order.”
I stop pacing. “They’re going to go to bat for you? That’s awesome.”
“It’s not as noble as you think. My agent is nearly giddy at the thought of all the publicity this is going to create.”
“Publicity? I don’t get it.”
“What do you think is going to happen when the publishing house refuses to give the cops my identity? Word will get out in the press that the reclusive J.W. Quicksilver is connected to a publishing scam and a murder. It’ll be all over social media in five minutes. I’ll go viral for a couple of days, my book sales will skyrocket, and everyone will make a nice fat profit. Then a week later when the buzz dies, the publishing company will give their lawyers the go-ahead to stop fighting the court order. They’ll give me up, and two months from now when someone Googles my name, the first thing they’ll see is that I was a suspect in a murder investigation. Sales will still be good, but my name—my real name—will be mud forever.”
I sit down, stunned. “But you’re innocent.”
“No one will care about that, Lucy. All anyone sees is the headlines. The click bait. The real story will be buried at the bottom of the page. No one bothers to read to the end anymore.”
A blast of anger shoots through me. “We’re not going to let that happen.”
“How are we going to stop it?”
“Travis says the publishing company has until twelve tomorrow to give up your name. All we have to do is find the killer in the next … ” I look at my watch. “Nineteen hours and forty-three minutes.”
“Oh, sure. That gives us plenty of time.”
“Don’t be such a negative Nelly. Didn’t you ever pull an all-nighter in college? Besides, you’re forgetting. You have a secret weapon. Me. I’m on your side.”
Paco barks as if to say, Me too!
Will shakes his head, then chuckles wearily. “Okay, Lucy. I know better than to try to fight you on this. Where do we start?”
The three of us get in my car and head over to Victor Marino’s house. Since he’s one of the two victims whose identities I’m aware of, it’s the logical place to begin. Plus, Victor knows I know he’s been scammed, so we can cut right to the chase.
Victor lives in a quiet neighborhood, just a few blocks from Betty Jean’s. He answers the door on the first ring, takes one look at us, and ushers us inside. “I’m honored. Come in, come in!” He practically trips over himself in his glee.
If I thought for one moment all this was for me, I’d be flattered. But I know exactly which of the three of us Victor is so giddy to see. And it’s not Will either.
“I never thought I’d have the honor of hosting Cornelius in my home. Please, take a seat anywhere,” he says to Paco.
Paco looks at his choices. A nice little leather sofa or two recliners. He hops up on the sofa, circles around four times, then hunkers down with a grin on his face. I sit next to my dog, and Will takes one of the recliners.
“His name is Paco now, remember?” I say to Victor.
He nods eagerly. “Whatever you say. Do you think he’s thirsty? Is he hungry? I have steak.”
At the word “steak,” Paco’s ears perk up.
“I don’t give Paco steak. Or any other human food either. The vet says it’s bad for him.” This is a lie because I give Paco human food all the time. Just not steak.
Victor looks horrified. “I would never do anything to endanger this sweet little dog.” He sits on the other side of Paco. “Am I permitted to pet him? Or will it interfere with his aura?”
Oh, for the love of … “Yes, you can pet him. But we’re not here because of anything ghost-related. We need your help with something. It’s about the Jefferson Pike murder.”
“That man,” he seethes. “The way he strutted into town pretending to be J.W. Quicksilver, swindling poor, innocent people out of their hard-earned money. And it wasn’t just the money. He gave them false hope. He made us all believe we’d be published by a fancy company. The man should be shot.”
“Actually, he was stabbed.”
Victor reddens. “Yes, of course, he was. And now I hear that the real J.W. Quicksilver is here in town and that he’s the prime suspect. Who would have thought? It’s like something out of one of his novels.”
“That’s fake news,” I say. “J.W. Quicksilver is most certainly not the murderer, and we need your help to clear his name. You’re a big fan of his. Don’t you want to help him out?”
“Yes, of course I do.” Victor’s eyes widen. “Lucy, are you telling me that you’ve been in contact with the real J.W.? What’s he like? Do you think he’d be interested in reading my novel?”
Will and I exchange glances. “Lucy isn’t at liberty to reveal Quicksilver’s identity,” says Will. “Right now, the man is fighting for his life and his reputation.”
Victor collects himself. “Of course. But what can I do to help?”
“You can give us the names of the other scam victims,” I say.
“How would I know their names?”
“Because Archie Clements offered me a deal. If I gave him the names of other aspiring authors who might be interested in their publishing venture, then I wouldn’t have to give them as much money to get in. I’m assuming he offered that little discount to everyone.”
Victor looks taken aback. “Lucy, you wrote a book too?”
“No, I just pretended. It was a trick.” At the perplexed look on his face, I wave my hand in the air. “It’s a long story. So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to help J.W. Quicksilver or not?”
He mulls this over a bit, then glances down at Paco, who’s looking up at him like he’s waiting for the answer as well. “What’s in it for me?” Victor asks finally.
This was not the answer I was expecting. Victor has always been so sweet. So …
Oh no. I don’t like the way he’s looking at Paco.
“What’s in it for you is the good feeling you’ll get when you help bring the real killer to justice.”
“Why don’t you get the names from the police?” Before I can answer, he says, “I’ll tell you why. Because they won’t give it to you, will they? No, they won’t. Travis Fontaine wants to solve this murder on his own.” He continues petting Paco. “I’m not saying that I have the names. And I’m not saying that I don’t. But let’s say that I did have the names. The people on that list aren’t going to be happy that I gave them up. Not if you’re going to go around snooping in their business and accusing them of murder.”
“How about we get right down to it? What do you want?
“You know what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted. The chance to see Cornelius in action.”
Paco wags his tail.
“You see?” Victor says stubbornly. “He wants it too.”
Will catches my eye again. This time he points to his watch. I know. I know. We’re running out of time. Ack. I can’t beli
eve I’m going to do this.
“Okay, you win. I’ll let you and the Sunshine Ghost Society have Paco for one séance.”
Victor claps his hands in glee. “Oh, Lucy! Thank you!”
“But,” I add sternly, “it has to be under the conditions I lay down. I’ll want a veterinary professional to be present to monitor the whole thing. Paco can’t be hurt or compromised in any way.”
“Of course, of course. Whatever you say!” He gets up from the couch. “I’ll go find a pen and paper and make out that list. Wait till Phoebe and the rest of the society hear of this,” he chortles.
“I can’t believe I just sold out my own dog in exchange for this … list,” I say in disgust on the way back to my car.
Victor’s list only had four names, including himself. Which was kind of tricky if you ask me. We’ve just visited the last person on the list. All of whom turned out to be a huge bust. Including Phoebe Van Cleave, who’s writing a book about a female ghost detective who lives in a small Florida town. Will and I were forced to listen to the synopsis for her story before she’d answer any of our questions.
“Is everyone in this town writing a thinly veiled novel about themselves?” I ask.
“Looks like it.” Will leans back in the car seat and closes his eyes. “So, what do we do now?”
“There have to be more victims. I just don’t know how to find out who they are.”
He nods in resignation. Poor Will. He could lose everything he’s worked so hard for all these years. Any residual anger I had about his not telling me he was J.W. Quicksilver flew out the window a long time ago.
The air in the car reeks of gloom and doom. I wish I could make him laugh.
“We could always storm police headquarters, hold Rusty hostage, and demand Travis tell us the names of the other victims. And if he still refuses, we can sic Paco on him.”
Will smiles while still keeping his eyes closed. “Sounds like a plan.”
