“We should at least call Coleman.” Tinkie drove like a bat out of hell, but it didn’t stop her from thinking.
“Let’s see what the situation is.” By having the law pull up with sirens wailing, we might put Kristine in danger if she wasn’t already.
“How are we going to handle this?” She pulled the Caddy into the motel parking lot and stopped.
Easing out of the car, I stood for a moment in the cold night. The lights of Kristine’s room burned dimly, and the curtains were drawn tight—either for purposes of murder or love. “I’m going to knock on the door,” I said. “I’ll act like I need to talk to her.”
“And me?” Tinkie’s look was dubious.
“If Gabriel is in there with Kristine, I want you to leave me here. Head straight to his room at The Gardens and use your charm on Gertrude Strom to get her to let you into his room. Then find whatever you can.”
“No.”
Tinkie was not normally so short-winded in her obstinacy. I took it as a signal that she was going to be truly difficult.
“This is the best plan.”
“It’s the most dangerous for you. What if he’s the killer, and he takes you and Kristine hostage?”
I smiled, even though my cheeks were freezing in the night. “I can handle it.”
Now Tinkie was doubly doubtful. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I’ll be fine. This is our perfect opportunity. Tinkie, time is running out. Gabriel, Graf, Bobbe, Kristine, and the elusive Robert Morgan are all suspects. But I’m the one who’s going to be left in Zinnia when all of them go back to their lives.”
“This isn’t safe.” Her chin jutted out, and she refused to look at me.
“If Gabriel’s in there, you can call Gordon and ask him to stop by on the pretext of looking for me. That way I can hitch a ride home with Gordon.”
“What, exactly, am I looking for in Gabriel’s room?” she asked.
“Anything that incriminates him for the murder of his sister.”
“Oh, that’s all.”
I could stand in the cold and argue with Tinkie, or I could put my intuitions to the test. Gabriel was preoccupied with Kristine, and Tinkie and I might never have another chance to search through his things.
Running across the parking lot to the motel door, I eased to the window. There was a tiny crack in the curtains, where I could just make out a body flung nude across the bed. A tangle of auburn hair hid Kristine’s face.
My heart started pounding double-time. I couldn’t see Gabriel. Was it possible he’d hurt Kristine? I shifted positions to try another angle of the room. Gabriel’s bare bottom came into view, and I inhaled sharply. Talk about a room with a view.
Tinkie was still waiting, the motor of the Cadillac sending up a white plume of exhaust in the cold. I waved her on. She hesitated, and I stood and used both arms to signal her to take off.
She eased out of the parking lot, and I knelt by the window again. Gabriel had joined Kristine on the bed. Her moans were those of pleasure, not pain.
They were inside all hot and bothered, and I was outside freezing my butt off. To top it all off, Giblet was somewhere in the room, softly howling what sounded vaguely like “Moon River.”
Something about this was very, very wrong! I took one more look and realized that I’d never seen a human body bend like that. Kristine looked like a circus performer and Gabriel was taking full advantage of her flexibility. I tore myself away.
For ten minutes I paced up and down in front of the door, trying to give them time to conclude their encounter before I knocked. At last, when my ears felt as if they might snap from my head, I raised my fist and brought it down on the door.
From inside came the sound of a feminine shriek and male curses. Giblet set up a racket barking. I didn’t care. I had to get inside before I turned to ice. I was taking a risk. If Gabriel was the killer, he could hurt Kristine if confronted. He could hurt me, too. As frozen as I was, I wasn’t in a position to perform any martial arts action.
The door flew open, and Kristine stood with a sheet wrapped around her. “Sarah Booth.” She looked into the darkness behind me as if she would be able to see the reason I’d knocked at her door. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” I tried to step past her, but she blocked me. Giblet came to the door to investigate, waiting for whatever cue his master gave.
“I need to talk.” I made another stab at entering, but she blocked me again.
“Now isn’t a good time.”
“Kristine, I need your help, and I need it now. Tonight. Right this minute.”
The urgency in my voice did the trick. She stepped back to reveal Gabriel struggling into his clothes. What I’d interrupted wasn’t exactly a hostage situation, but it didn’t matter. I had to keep Gabriel occupied while Tinkie did her job.
“I apologize,” I said. I kicked the door closed behind me as I stepped into the room. I couldn’t drag my gaze from Gabriel’s naked torso. For an architect, he had a build. His stomach rippled with muscles, and when he turned to get his shirt, his back was a work of art. He was one of the most handsome potential killers I’d ever seen.
“What do you want, Sarah Booth?” Kristine brought me back to reality. I had to fabricate an excuse for being there, and I had to do it quickly.
Chapter 18
“I saw you leaving with Gabriel, and I had to come and check on you.” I stepped past Kristine, my gaze on Gabriel. “This man has a criminal record.”
Gabriel stopped with his fingers on the buttons of his shirt. “I begin to see why Renata despised you.”
“Really, Sarah Booth. That’s absurd.” Kristine shifted from one bare foot to the other.
“I’m not making this up.” I stood with the door at my back. The tension in the room was thick. Even Giblet was eyeing me with suspicion. “The only way Renata’s real killer will ever be found involves the truth. All of it. And I’m here to make sure Gabriel tells you about his past.” I’d thrown the gauntlet down, but Gabriel didn’t seem too interested in picking it up. He looked at Kristine and sighed.
“I might not have a spotless past, but at least I’ve never been charged with murder.” He finished buttoning his shirt. “Say what you’ve come to say, Sarah Booth. Then leave. Kristine and I have ... things to talk about.”
“Is it true, Gabriel?” Kristine looked queasy.
He nodded. “It’s true.”
I thought Kristine was going to say something sharp, but she lifted her chin. “Tell me. Please. I know it can’t be bad. You’re so kind and gentle. Just tell me the truth.”
Gabriel sat on the edge of the bed. “I was going to tell you, but things happened so quickly between us. I saw your love for Giblet, the way that you throw yourself into things with all of your heart. Renata spoke of you—always in a negative way—but I feel I know your heart.”
“Cut to the chase and tell her about the drugs.” I sounded heartless and mean, but everyone involved in this case had danced around the truth more than once. Gabriel was going to tell Kristine about his past, or I would tell her.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “When I was in my early twenties, I hung around with a wealthy pack of LA kids. We got caught doing cocaine. I pled to a lesser charge, did the minimum time, and went into drug rehab and counseling.” He gave a sour look. “It was a long time ago. I was a kid. I changed my life because I saw where I was headed. I see that Ms. Delaney is grasping at straws if she thinks some foolishness from my past is going to paint me as a criminal.”
Either he was telling the truth or he had a lot of his sister’s talent for acting. “I just wanted to be sure Kristine knew exactly who she was climbing into bed with. Literally.”
Gabriel smiled and shook his head. “I have to hand it to you, Sarah Booth. You’ve got a set of brass ones, coming into a hotel room to throw my past in my face.”
This wasn’t the reaction I’d anticipated. Without Gabriel to react against,
I had nothing more to say. Yet I had to figure a way to keep him occupied. “Are you okay with this, Kristine?”
“Whatever Gabriel did in his past, he’s a good man now. I don’t want to hear anything more. It would be best if you left, Sarah Booth.”
“I don’t have a ride.” I shrugged. “Tinkie dropped me off because she said I was acting a fool.”
“Tinkie is correct, but I’ll take you home.” Gabriel pulled car keys from his pocket. “In fact, I insist on giving you a ride home. I think my sister unjustly accused you, Sarah Booth. And me, too. I feel I should do my best to make it up to you.” He turned to Kristine. “I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”
I plunked into a chair. “I’m not going anywhere. I have a few more questions.”
“Is this really necessary?” Kristine asked, wrapping the sheet more tightly. “We’d like to be alone, Sarah Booth.” She went to Gabriel and sat beside him. “He proves to me again and again that no matter what mistakes he made in his past, he’s the man I want in my life right now. And Giblet likes him, too.”
The dog gave action to her words and leapt to the bed. He snuggled down beside Gabriel.
I felt like the worst kind of heel, but I had to give Tinkie time. “Gabriel, what did you know about Robert Morgan, the pharmacist?”
Kristine touched his arm and looked into his eyes. “If you know something, Gabriel, tell her. This isn’t the best timing I’ve ever seen, but we have to help her, if we can.”
Gabriel gave a long sigh. “Robert Morgan was another of my sister’s weird admirers. She spoke about him like he was a servant. He ran errands for her, made sure she had her antiaging creams, prescriptions for her migraines, and super vitamins. In return, she badgered people into giving him bit roles in Broadway productions. He was always around, always underfoot.” He shrugged. “Renata collected people like that. They told her what she wanted to hear.”
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that your sister was poisoned and Morgan is a pharmacist?” Was it just me or was everyone overlooking the obvious?
“He was a friend. He pandered to her ego, but he had no reason to kill her.” Gabriel rose and paced the room, his face a mask of determination. “Robert Morgan wouldn’t have hurt my sister. In some strange way, I think he loved her.”
“Who would have access to poison more easily than a pharmacist?” I asked the question quietly.
Gabriel whirled to confront me. “She told me you were trying to hurt her. Why should I suspect her friend when she suspected you?”
It was the question that I had to answer—not just to Gabriel but to everyone. “I don’t know why Renata told you that. I never threatened her. I had no reason to hurt her.”
“Except for a shot at Hollywood and a career as an actress.”
I steadied myself. “You don’t really believe I hurt Renata. You’ve said you don’t believe it.” I held his gaze and saw something dark in his eyes. “Who do you suspect, Gabriel?”
A tense silence stretched between us until Giblet leaped into Gabriel’s lap, demanding his attention. He scooped the dog into his arms.
I pressed on. “When the police searched your sister’s hotel room and dressing room, none of her medications were found. Do you know what happened to them?”
“I have no idea.” His hands stroked the dog, but his gaze was focused on me. “Renata may have thrown them out. She was prone to tantrums, you know.”
The knock that came on the door made all three of us jump, and Giblet begin to bark like a maniac. When Kristine opened the door, Gordon stood there.
“Sarah Booth, the sheriff is looking for you. He has some questions,” he said.
“I was just leaving.” I stepped through the door and started toward the patrol car. “You two have a nice evening,” I said.
Gordon got behind the wheel, and I noticed the smile on his face.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You’re a regular Darth Vader of love, Sarah Booth. All those two wanted was a motel room and some privacy. Tinkie said you might be in danger.” He laughed. “In danger of killing Cupid.”
I hadn’t realized the depth of Gordon’s humor. “That’s very funny,” I said sarcastically.
He eased out of the parking lot. “Where to, Darth? Maybe we should go up to Opal Lake and roust some kids parking. With you on the job we might prevent half a dozen unwanted pregnancies.”
Gordon was having way too much fun at my expense. “Just take me to Harold’s, please.”
“You got it.”
Ten minutes later I got out of the patrol car. Gordon refused my invitation to come in, even though the party was still in full swing. In all likelihood, I hadn’t been missed. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Where is Tinkie?” Gordon’s gaze swept the parking lot for her vehicle.
“She’s running an errand.”
“Somehow, I don’t like the sound of that.”
Because I wasn’t going to tell him anything else, I slammed the door and ran up the steps. I needed to thank Harold for the party and catch a ride to rendezvous with Tinkie. Just as I was about to hit the front door, my cell phone rang.
“Sarah Booth!” Tinkie’s voice held excitement.
“Did you find something?”
“Renata’s will. But Graf already told you Gabriel inherits everything. It’s a big estate, and the will is dated this past December.”
“I just don’t see Gabriel killing his sister.” I hated to eliminate him as a suspect, but it felt all wrong. The problem with all of my suspects was that none of them seemed capable of killing.
“That’s not all.” Tinkie’s voice held a secret.
“What?”
“There’s a letter from Renata. It basically says that she’s retiring from show biz after this play. She says she’s going to live in Tahiti. Alone.”
“But she was going to Hollywood with Graf.”
“Not according to this letter.”
“Well, grab it and get out of there.”
“Don’t you think Gabriel will miss it?”
“Not for the rest of the night. Photocopy it and put it back. Gabriel is busy with Kristine.” A mental image of the couple flashed into my head. I was still amazed at his body. “I think you’ll have plenty of time. I’m back at Harold’s.”
As I flipped my cell phone shut, it occurred to me that Renata had told a different story about her intentions to everyone she spoke with. She’d set the stage perfectly for a vanishing act, not a murder.
All of the guests were gone, and I sat in the parlor with Harold sipping a glass of champagne. Tinkie was coming to retrieve me, and while I waited, I took the time to talk to Harold.
“What will you do, Sarah Booth?” He saluted me with the champagne flute.
“About the murder charge, Coleman’s tumor-producing wife, or Hollywood?” I sipped the bubbly letting the sparkles dance across my tongue. I generally preferred Jack, but there was nothing like champagne for a celebration.
“All of the above?”
“I don’t know.” It was such a relief to admit that to someone. Tinkie didn’t want to hear it. Neither did Cece or Millie. They expected me to come up with ideas and solutions, plans and strategies. With Harold, I could tell the truth. “Someone set me up, and they did such a good job that I can’t figure out who’s behind it.”
“Who stood to gain?”
“All of us, one way or another.” I ran through my suspect list and the things they gained by Renata’s death.
“Has Coleman indicated when he’ll release the theatrical troupe to go back to New York?”
I shook my head. “Soon, though. There’s no reason for him to hold them longer.”
“Except that one of them likely killed Renata.”
“There’s no evidence to that effect. I’m the one that all the circumstantial evidence points to. I bought the lipstick, for which there’s no record, cyanide was found in my trunk, Nancy at the feed store heard me ask ab
out poisons, though it wasn’t me.” I was digging my grave with my words.
“The key word is circumstantial,” Harold pointed out.
“I’m the best suspect. If I were sheriff, I’d arrest me.” That still didn’t let Coleman off the hook. The problem with Coleman was that I couldn’t figure out what to feel about him. He’d charged me with murder and treated me like a criminal, yet I’d been making out with him only an hour before.
Harold’s eyebrows arched. “So you’ve forgiven Coleman?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel about him.”
“He has a job to do, Sarah Booth.”
“And he has a wife. Connie is alive and getting well, apparently.”
“That’s a tough nut,” Harold said. He refilled my champagne glass. “Concentrate on proving your innocence. Let Coleman handle his messy marital status.”
“Good advice.” I drained the glass and stood. The alcohol hit me hard and I staggered a little. Harold steadied me as he walked me to the front door.
“A bit of cool air will revive you.”
Cool didn’t do the night justice. It was downright cold, but it did snap me out of my stupor. “Tinkie will be here soon.”
“Here’s a bit of cheerful news. In your absence, Cece managed to spill a glass of motor oil on Booter. She left in a huff.” He was smiling.
“Motor oil? Where’d Cece get that?”
“Out of my garage, I presume. She said something to me about Booter’s pistons being stuck on bitch so she felt it was her duty to ‘lube her up.’ I didn’t realize what she intended until it was too late.”
My smile was tired. “Cece is incomparable.” “Booter was talking to Graf earlier. They were deep into a discussion for about ten minutes in the backyard. I overheard their voices, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.”
I suddenly remembered the night at Harold’s when I’d eavesdropped on Hamilton Garrett V. It seemed like a lifetime ago. So many things had changed. “Maybe Graf has a thing for Booter. She has money, and that’s bound to be attractive to Graf.”
Ham Bones Page 17
