Angela reacted to the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s untimely demise the same way she had after we’d first told her about his murder. Covering her face with her hands, she hung her head and ran out of the room.
This time we weren’t buying that act, though.
“I’m betting she thinks we’re going to leave like last time,” I said in his ear as we both looked down the hallway toward the room she’d run to.
“I bet, but those crocodile tears don’t have the same power the second time that they had the first,” he said with a confident grin.
We waited a good five minutes before she returned to the dining room, and the surprised look on her face said she hadn’t expected us to still be there after her performance. She stammered out, “Oh…I thought…I assumed you had left. I’m sorry…I just get so upset when I think about poor Marcus.”
Alex remained silent and studied her, so I took my opportunity to question her. “Yeah, about that. We just met your fiancé, Frank Mitchell, who by the way didn’t seem too broken up about poor Marcus’s death. I guess since you cheated on him with our victim that’s to be expected, though. Congratulations on your engagement. He’s a real prize.”
Angela’s eyes opened wide at hearing we found out about her and Frank Mitchell being together. “Engagement? What are you talking about?”
Shaking his head at her tired act, Alex said, “There’s no need to pretend, Miss Touring. We know all about your love triangle and how you and Frank are scheduled to marry in July, assuming you don’t break up before then.”
I watched as Alex explained the charade was over, but Angela didn’t seem to understand she didn’t have to pretend to be surprised anymore. In fact, if anything, she grew more confused than shocked as she listened to him.
“Frank and I aren’t engaged. I don’t know where you heard that from, but we’re the furthest thing from getting married in July or any other time, for that matter. We broke up months ago after he found out I was cheating on him with Marcus.”
Alex turned his head to look at me and raised his eyebrows. Her story intrigued him as much as it did me. “So if you two aren’t engaged, why is Frank telling his boss that’s the reason why he needs the overtime? We heard he had bills to pay and a house to afford for his fiancé, which his boss claimed was you.”
Unexpectedly, Angela burst out laughing. Shaking her head, she said, “Frank work overtime? Are you kidding? Frank hates work. He’s one of the laziest men I’ve ever met. He’s a seven to three-thirty guy every day he works. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never spent a minute more than he has to at that garage. Who fed you this nonsense?”
“Ralph Burns, his boss,” I offered as Alex began taking notes on Angela’s claims. “He raved about how much Frank wants to work and takes overtime anytime he can get it.”
Angela huffed a derisive snort and rolled her eyes. “He’s his brother. Of course, he’s going to say nice things about him when the police come calling.”
“Ralph is Frank’s brother?” I asked, remembering how similar they looked to each other even as I tried to wrap my brain around what Angela just said.
I saw Alex write boss and brother same? in his notes and look up to listen to Angela’s answer.
“Half-brother is more correct,” Angela explained. “Ralph was his father’s first child and Frank was the bastard he had with a woman he cheated on his wife with. Same father but different mothers. Still brothers, though, not that they are alike in more than a handful of ways.”
“Do they get along?” Alex asked.
Angela smiled. “Well enough for Ralph to lie to the cops about Frank. Trust me. There’s no way the man I knew would be caught dead working any more than he absolutely had to. It was one of the many things about Frank I grew to hate.”
Frank Mitchell’s surliness, the unkempt mess of a beard he wore on his face and wiped his hands on, and those disgusting fingernails certainly must have been in the top ten list of those things she hated. His violent temper could be added to that hit list too. In fact, I couldn’t think of one thing about Frank Mitchell that could appeal to any woman, much less someone like Angela Touring.
“What about how nasty he can be?” I asked, much to Alex’s surprise.
He furrowed his brow and gave me a sideways glance, but I didn’t regret asking the question. If anyone knew Frank Mitchell that way, I suspected it was the woman who had dated him and cheated on him. I had a feeling she’d seen every shade of nastiness from him in their time together.
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but Angela cut him off. “I know all about Frank’s meanness. He’s not a nice man when he’s angry. Trust me.”
“So where are you going and why, if it isn’t because you and Frank Mitchell just broke up on Saturday, like Ralph told us?” Alex asked.
A terrified look crossed Angela’s face. “It’s not safe here for me. If Marcus was murdered, then it’s just a matter of time before Frank does the same to me.”
Her admission surprised Alex. “Are you saying you think Frank Mitchell killed Marcus Tyne? Why? You two broke up months ago. Why would he wait until now to get his revenge?”
“Who else would want to hurt Marcus? He was a gentle soul everyone loved. Well, everyone but Frank.”
“Has he threatened you?” I asked her, for the first time believing the possibility that she hadn’t been involved in killing Marcus with Frank.
Angela shook her head and frowned. “No, but that’s doesn’t matter. I know Frank. He’s a dangerous man.”
“We have no record of him ever threatening you before,” Alex said as he flipped through his notes to get to the information Craig had given him over the phone on our way to Millville Motors. “In fact, we have no record of him ever being charged with any violent crimes of any sort.”
I heard the suspicion in his voice loud and clear. He didn’t believe her story. She knew it too. But I believed her. That crying act had been just that, but the fear I saw in her eyes told me she was truly terrified of something or someone, and I had a strong feeling it was Frank Mitchell.
“He killed Marcus. I know it as sure as I know my name. He told me he would. When I broke up with him to go with Marcus, his exact words were, ‘Enjoy yourself while you can because he’s not long for this world, Angela.’ I knew what he meant.”
“It just seems odd that someone so easily angered could put off getting revenge on another man for months,” Alex said. “I didn’t get the sense that Frank Mitchell lived by the idea that revenge is a dish best served cold. What would have caused him to kill Marcus Tyne now? You two have been broken up for almost as long as he waited, if he in fact killed him.”
Angela sighed and sank down into one of the dining room chairs. Her shoulders sagged, and I sensed she was holding back tears. What had Alex said to deflate her like that?
“Miss Touring, if there’s something we should know, you need to tell us. Why would Frank Mitchell want to kill Marcus Tyne now instead of all those months ago when he threatened him?”
She sighed again. “That time when I called the police on Marcus? He didn’t do anything to me. That’s why I didn’t want to press charges when the officer came out to talk to me.”
“Okay. So why did you break up with him then if he didn’t attack you?” I asked as Alex and I waited to hear what could come next in this story.
Angela looked up at me and took a deep breath. She let it out in a rush and said, “Because it was Frank who hit me. I was afraid to tell the police who really did it, but my sister pressured me into calling you guys. I knew what would happen if I told them Frank gave me that black eye. He’d kill me. I was sure of it. So I lied and said Marcus was the one who did it.”
“And then he broke up with you because of it,” I said quietly, suddenly feeling sorry for Angela Touring.
“Yeah,” she admitted with a nod. “I apologized for days, but he couldn’t forgive me for lying to the police about him. I told him I didn’t have a choice,
but he wouldn’t hear it. And then when he and I broke up, I thought Frank had gotten his revenge, but that wasn’t enough for him. I should have known that. He was too angry when he found out about Marcus and me to just be satisfied with us breaking up.”
Alex took this all in and finally said, “If Frank did this to Marcus, you running away isn’t going to stop him if he wants to hurt you. Do you have family or friends who could stay with you? Your sister?”
Angela’s eyes flashed the terror she felt at his suggestion. “And put her in harm’s way? No way. If I stay in this house, I’m a sitting duck, along with anyone else who’s here with me. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt if Frank decides to look for me, so where am I supposed to go?”
A thought suddenly popped into my brain. “What about the Hotel Piermont? He won’t suspect you’ll be there, will he?”
“I’ve never been there, so no, I don’t think so.”
Alex didn’t look too sure about my idea, but I knew she’d be okay there, at least for a few days until we solved the case and hopefully had Frank Mitchell behind bars. “Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll give you a ride to the Hotel Piermont and you can stay there until it’s safe for you to come home.”
“But what if he finds me there?” Angela asked, still uncertain merely hiding out at the local hotel would be enough to keep her safe.
“He won’t. You just said it yourself. You’ve never been there, and there’d be no reason for you to stay at a hotel just a short ways away from your house. You’ll leave your car here, and for all he’ll know, you could be enjoying a few days in D.C. or halfway around the world. As long as he can’t find you here, you’ll be good.”
My reasoning seemed to convince her, even if it didn’t have the same effect on my partner, and she picked up her bags to leave. “Okay, but please tell me you’re going to get him on Marcus’s murder. He didn’t deserve an ending like that.”
I grabbed one of the large suitcases and headed toward the door. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him. He’s not going to get away with poisoning two men.”
From behind me, I heard Angela say, “Two men? Frank killed two people?”
Before I could answer her, Alex said, “No, just one. The other man lived.”
“Oh,” she said sadly. “I’d hate to know two people suffered because of Frank’s rage.”
We got her and her luggage settled into the back seat of the police cruiser, and closing the car door, Alex leaned over the roof and gave me a look that said he still wasn’t sure this was a good idea.
“I don’t think this is exactly what Derek intended when he told us about Frank, Poppy. The Sunset Ridge Police Department isn’t in the habit of putting up people at the Hotel Piermont for protection. Who’s going to pay for this?”
The thought of who’d pay for her stay had never crossed my mind. “I don’t know. Why couldn’t the department pay for it? I’d say it’s worth it to keep a citizen safe from someone who’s going to hurt her. Won’t her help in convicting him be worth a few nights at the Piermont?”
Alex’s skeptical look told me my argument hadn’t convinced him. “That’s assuming he’s the killer. I’m not entirely sure he is. All we have is her claim that he wanted Marcus Tyne dead. That doesn’t explain why Gerald Engels ended up getting poisoned.”
He wasn’t wrong. Those were valid points, even if I didn’t want to think about them because they didn’t fit into the theory of the case I’d constructed in my mind.
“But what about his brother lying to us about when he worked on Monday?” I asked, desperately trying to grasp at something to bolster my point.
Shrugging, he appeared unconvinced. “Brothers lie for one another, Poppy. Maybe he didn’t want to see Frank get into trouble for something else we don’t know about. Maybe he didn’t want to lose what looked to be his only mechanic. There could be dozens of reasons why he lied to us that have nothing to do with this case.”
Disappointed, I sighed at how easily he’d poked holes in my theory. “Then why did you say that stuff about not letting them know about the antifreeze part of this case before? I thought you were thinking Frank Mitchell had means and motive, and with his brother’s lie, he had opportunity if he wasn’t at work all day on Monday.”
“I’m not saying he didn’t. I’m just saying it’s not a slam dunk like you seem to think. The issue with Gerald Engels doesn’t fit, among other things. Where during that day or night did Frank find Marcus to slip him the antifreeze, and then when did Frank run into our second victim on Tuesday before we went to see Gerald at his house? It doesn’t work if this is just a revenge murder because some guy resented some other guy for stealing his girlfriend. Forget about how long we’re supposed to believe a hothead like Frank Mitchell waited to get that revenge.”
I frowned, disappointed in myself for not even coming close with my theory this time. I didn’t mind being wrong, but I’d missed so many points in my rush to believe that nasty man could be guilty.
“So what are we going to do with her?” I asked, looking down toward where she sat in the back seat.
“We’ll have to take her to the Hotel Piermont. I don’t see what else we can do. I just wouldn’t bet on Derek approving that expense, though. It might have to come out of your pocket, Poppy.”
That didn’t bother me. I believed Angela’s fear of her ex-boyfriend and sympathized with her about it. If Jared was a violent man who terrified me, I’d want someone like me to help if I believed at any moment he could show up to kill me.
“I’m okay with that, Alex. It’s the neighborly thing to do, so I’m fine with it.”
“You know the price of a room at the Hotel Piermont?” he asked with a teasing look.
He just couldn’t forget that I’d been there once. “Not that again. Let it go, Alex.”
“I’ll let you explain it to Derek then.”
“I’ll just tell him the truth. We couldn’t let her leave town, and she wasn’t going to stay here. What other choice was there?”
Alex rolled his eyes and smiled. “At least you didn’t suggest she could stay with you. I guess there’s that.”
I chuckled at his teasing. “After all this time, you’re finally getting the hang of this small town thing, aren’t you?”
Chapter Thirteen
First thing the next morning, I called the Hotel Piermont and spoke to Angela Touring to make sure she hadn’t had any unexpected visitors during the night. Happier than either time I’d spoken to her before, she actually laughed at my mention of the reputation of the hotel and joked her friends would think she was turning over a new wild leaf if they knew where she’d stayed last night.
Satisfied our best witness remained safe and sound, I told her I’d stop by later that day with some magazines to help her combat the boredom while she stayed hidden away. She seemed to appreciate my efforts at being neighborly and thanked me over and over. All in all, my Friday began pretty auspiciously.
I felt pretty good, so I got dressed to go to The Eagle for a few hours. Although Howard would be nowhere to be found, I’d be able to tell him I had, indeed, spent some time working in my office on those articles I had due to him by midweek.
Grabbing my purse, I headed for the door as my phone began to ring. I dug it out to see it was Alex and barely answered it before it sent the call to voicemail. The Grounds hadn’t reopened yet, and our everyday morning meeting wouldn’t happen, so I assumed he wanted to call to talk to me about the case.
It wouldn’t be the same without the coffee, but today would be the last day we had to suffer.
“Hey, you!” I said with a smile, happy to hear his voice. “I’m already missing our table at the back of The Grounds.”
“Hi, Poppy,” Alex said in a low voice far too serious for what I’d just said.
Instantly, I knew something was wrong. “What’s happened?” I asked as my heart slammed against my chest.
“I just heard from Donny. He got the results back from the health
department’s tests.”
Hearing those words made my mouth dry up. Swallowing hard, I said, “Oh. Is it good or bad news?”
“The health department found no evidence of Ethylene glycol in any of the alcohol at the bar but they found trace amounts on a single glass at McGuire’s.”
Each word felt like a nail in my father’s coffin. My breath caught in my chest by the time he finished speaking, and my mind whirled with what would happen next.
I grabbed onto the edge of the kitchen table and lowered myself onto a chair as I began to shake. “So what does that mean?”
Somewhere in my brain, I knew exactly what it meant, but because this case involved my father, I didn’t seem to be able to accept it.
“I don’t have a choice. I have to bring him in for questioning.”
“What? It’s just a trace found on a single glass. Is that enough to make him a suspect?” I asked, my world spinning out of control around me.
“Poppy, I have to do my job. I just wanted to let you know first. I hope you understand.”
I did and I didn’t. I knew his job as the officer on this case meant he had to follow every lead he found, and the health department saying antifreeze existed on even one glass from McGuire’s made my father a genuine suspect.
But this was my father. Alex knew him well enough to know he could never do anything like poison someone. There had to be some mistake, some reasonable explanation for why that trace of antifreeze had been found anywhere at the bar.
“Are you there, Poppy? Are you okay?” I heard Alex ask as I thought through all the possibilities to show my father couldn’t have done this terrible thing.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I have to go, Alex. I understand.”
I didn’t know if he said anything after that because I pressed END on my phone and tossed it into my purse before racing out the front door to head to my father’s. I couldn’t bear the idea of him being alone when Alex came to take him in for questioning. He needed me to stand by him now.
My feet couldn’t move fast enough, and with each stride, I tried to remind myself he’d need me to be calm. By the time I’d run the three blocks, my lungs ached from running and my legs felt like jelly, but none of that mattered. I needed to be by his side so he wasn’t alone in this.
Happy Hour Page 12
