A Sporting Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “You know,” I said to Madeleine as we spent the evening sorting through the clothes I’d collected, “once David is back at the ranch, I think we should set up a day of shooting for our customers on the coast. I think the women would love it.”

  “What made you think of that?” asked Madeleine.

  “Marjorie said her friends like to come over here to take in the sights. That’s one they’ve not yet done.”

  “They might never get to do it if we can’t get David out from under these murder charges.” Madeleine sunk into a chair, a look of despair on her face.

  I was tempted to cheer her up by telling her what we knew about Mr. Warren, but I wasn’t sure how any of this would turn out, so I kept the information to myself.

  I dropped to my knees in front of her and grasped her hands. “You know this will be over and soon. Alex is working on it.”

  Her face brightened for a moment. “He’s discovered something? What? Tell me.”

  “Well, nothing for certain yet, but he’s working on it.”

  The sunny look on her face faded back into sadness. I missed her bright smile and the twinkle in her eyes. Would my friend never be happy again?

  “And Nappi’s going to the ranch on Sunday,” I reminded her.

  Madeleine got out of the chair, and with a resigned sigh, reached for one of the bags of consigned clothes. “I know. Now let’s get this stuff tagged and ready for Saturday. First we sell, then we take on Elvira Reed.”

  I didn’t like the angry look on Madeleine’s face. Did she have an agenda of her own to run with Elvira tomorrow, something she wasn’t sharing with me? Because Madeleine’s mood shifted in a flash to her usual outgoing and upbeat persona, I wondered if I’d just imagined her rage.

  “Are you thinking of doing something, uh, rash tomorrow at Elvira’s?” I asked.

  “What do you mean by that?” She didn’t look at me, but continued pulling clothes out of the bag and tossing them onto the table.

  “Madeleine, what are you planning?”

  “I don’t have to share it with you. You’re always scheming and concocting plans with your friends, and I get left out. And, when something important comes up, you don’t tell me. You hide it, like you think I can’t handle the truth or I should be protected from ugly stuff. Well, let me tell you, Eve Appel, I’m one tough cookie. I may be small, but I’m made of steel.” She stood up and flexed her arms. “See? Muscles.”

  It was such a humorous image. My Madeleine dressed in her usual feminine ruffles and flounces, looking as if she was competing for a body building contest.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted. “And my mind is sharp as steel too.”

  “I’m hurt that you think I think you’re a wimp,” I said. If she knew I’d been keeping things from her, it might be best to put her on the defensive, find out if someone had spilled the beans about Mr. Warren/Hunter.

  As suddenly as she had turned into Wolverine, she plunged back down into the couch, sheathed her claws, and once more became the Madeleine I knew.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Eve. I am kind of a wimp in ways, but you know how resilient I am. I learned how to drive the rig, didn’t I? And I know you’d never keep anything really important from me, anything that might have to do with David’s case. I guess I’m so mad at Elvira Reed I can’t think straight. I’m dead certain she was responsible for our shop burning down. Don’t you agree?”

  Well, perhaps it wasn’t Elvira’s well-manicured hand that lit the fire, but I still pictured Hunter’s arm tossing that Molotov cocktail into the Warren house last night. Elvira might have had help.

  I nodded. “Maybe you shouldn’t go to the grand opening. I’ve never seen you so angry before. You might—”

  “Trip over a mannequin into a counter full of jewelry which would plunge to the floor causing other customers to fall into one of the clothing rounds tipping it into the display windows breaking the glass which could let in the wind and rain soaking all of the silk dresses and fur coats ….” She paused to take a breath.

  “You do have a plan, ya little minx!” I giggled at the images Madeleine’s story evoked.

  “You know how clumsy I am. I can’t help myself.”

  Madeleine demonstrated her klutziness by beginning a pirouette which ended in her spinning off balance toward our one-armed mannequin. Before she could crash into it, a hand reached out and grabbed her. I hadn’t noticed Sammy enter the rig.

  “Sammy. And just in time too. I haven’t seen you since ….” Oh, oh. I’d been about to reveal Alex’s and my trip to the Reed ranch, something Madeleine didn’t need to know, especially after her outburst claiming I kept things from her.

  “I thought you might like to know that I spotted Mrs. Warren and her friend Moses hitchhiking on the road toward the casino. I picked them up and gave them a ride as far as the turnoff to Clewiston. They wanted me to tell you thanks for the place to stay but they felt safer getting out of town. I was surprised to see them. The story going around is that they died in that fire last night.”

  Madeleine’s earlier playful mood was gone. “Is there something you want to tell me, Eve?”

  No, I did not want to tell her anything, but I knew I had to. Perhaps more important than updating my dear friend was finding my house guest/escapees before they blew the story Frida and I had concocted to keep them safe.

  “Leave the clothes for now.” I grabbed Madeleine and pulled her out of the rig and into my car. I tossed the motor home’s keys to Sammy. “Turn off the lights and lock up, would you? Jerry should be by soon to keep an eye on things. I’ll explain later.”

  “Where are you off to?” Sammy asked.

  “I’ve got to get those hitchhikers off the road before someone sees them.”

  I stomped on the accelerator and threw gravel as we sped off.

  “You got your seatbelt fastened?” I asked Madeleine.

  She said nothing, crossed her arms over her chest and stared arrows of anger and disappointment at me.

  As I swerved to avoid a large turtle in the road, I explained about the identity of Hunter and the fire at the Warren house last night.

  “So you can see why it’s important to keep those two out of sight, for their own safety.”

  “I see that, but why did you think you should keep all this from me? I wasn’t the one threatening their well-being.”

  “Well, of course not. We just didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “Why not? It seems pretty obvious to me that Hunter is Warren and that he set up David to get back at him for shooting his son. Frida should be arresting him and letting David out.”

  “It’s not as simple as that. We don’t have any proof Hunter is the one who shot that hunting client of David’s.”

  “But you did see him set fire to the Warren house,” Madeleine said. “Why doesn’t Frida arrest him for that? His role in setting up David would come out when she questioned him.”

  I wished Madeleine’s view of justice was correct, but I suspected Hunter would simply ask for a lawyer and keep his mouth shut. We needed more people than Hunter in jail. I wanted to get Hunter, Reed, Elvira, and Sheriff Leopold in for questioning so that they could spill the beans on one another. They were somehow involved in two murders aimed at setting up David and his foreman for the crimes. I could see Hunter’s motive—to destroy David’s life as payment for his son’s death—but there was something else going on, something that involved kidnapping Sammy and then releasing him. Oh boy, my head hurt trying to figure this out. I shared with Madeleine my thoughts, at least the ones that made sense. She was quiet for a few minutes, then spoke.

  “So what’s our plan?”

  Okay, there was that plan thing again, as if I had one or should have. I’d need to come up with something. I usually had some kind of plan, even one that didn’t work. Today I had nothing. I was depending on Nappi’s visit to the ranch on Sunday to do something, I didn’t know quite what. Until Sunday, it was impo
rtant for Hunter to believe he was safe. To do that, I had to get Mrs. Warren and Moses Ermlich back where they belonged in the land of the recently deceased.

  “Isn’t that Frida’s car?” Madeleine pointed to a vehicle stopped alongside the road.

  The sun had gone down, making it difficult to identify the person outside the vehicle, but that person was a woman and she was talking to two others standing with her.

  I slammed on my brakes and pulled over behind them. Frida leaned toward the other two people, and her body language told me she was furious at them. I caught the tail end of her comments.

  “What the holy heck are you two doing here, out in the open? You’re supposed to be dead. Not only are you risking your lives, but you’re jeopardizing any chance we have of arresting Hunter for murder.”

  I joined in. “To say nothing of what you’re doing to Frida’s career. She stuck her neck out by covering up for you.”

  “But Maimie,” Moses gestured toward Mrs. Warren, “received a call on her cell from Hunter. He knows we’re still alive.”

  Chapter 23

  It felt as if everything we’d found out the last few days and all the work Alex, Frida, and I had accomplished in tracking down Hunter’s identity had just blown up around us.

  “You answered the call or did it go to voicemail?” asked Frida.

  Maimie Warren shook her head. “I didn’t answer it because I didn’t recognize the number. He left a message saying, ‘I know you’re still alive.’ ”

  “He was bluffing, trying to smoke you out if you had survived the fire.” Frida delivered this assessment with cop-like certainty.

  My heart, which I was certain had stopped when Mrs. Warren told us about the call, began to beat once more.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Frida said. “It’s really too dark for anyone driving by to recognize us, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “What if it wasn’t a bluff?” asked Moses.

  “Trust me. It was. Now, back you go to Eve’s place.” Frida shoved them toward my car.

  “I’ll give you a ride home, Madeleine, since there’s more room in my car. Call me when you get them tucked in again, Eve.” Frida’s voice sounded reassuring, and Maimie and Moses needed encouragement, but when I looked into her face, I could tell she wasn’t so convinced that Hunter was bluffing.

  “Are you heading back down south to see customers tomorrow?” asked Alex.

  It was later that night, and I’d resettled Maimie and Moses into the guest bedroom and warned them to stay put. Alex and I were savoring some alone time on the couch.

  I leaned into him. “I think we have everything we need for the upcoming rodeo. I’m going with Madeleine back over to Stuart.”

  “How about a touch more wine?” He held up the bottle of pinot noir we’d been sampling.

  “No. I’ve got to get up early and meet Madeleine at the motor home. We still have clothes to inventory and tag before we head out. And—oh damn—I forgot Frida wanted me to call her tonight. I’m not certain she really believes Hunter was bluffing with that call to Maimie.”

  “How could he know they didn’t make it out of the house alive?” asked Alex. “Frida worries too much. I mean, it’s what makes her a good cop, but she needs to chill a little, be more like you.”

  “How so?”

  “You plan all sorts of stuff, but most of your plans don’t work out. Then you just punt.”

  I smiled. “And that’s what makes me a good amateur sleuth, right?”

  “No. That’s what makes you so aggravating to be around.”

  I pulled back my arm as if to give Alex a playful punch, but he was too quick for me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, then kissed me. Wow, I loved that guy’s mouth. I forgot all about calling Frida, and we once again turned off the phones. It was one of the best nights we’d had in some time.

  I felt so alive and happy the next morning—funny how a good man does that to a woman like me—that I let Madeleine drive over to the Stuart market. She did a fair job, taking out only one mailbox on the way. We pulled over, and I left a note on the box giving the owners our names and a number where we could be reached.

  When we got back into our shop on wheels, Madeleine gestured toward the driver’s seat. “I suppose you want to drive now.”

  “Nope. Accidents happen to a rig this big on this narrow road.”

  She gave me a puzzled look, settled into the driver’s seat, and pulled back onto the road.

  “You’re in a good mood today. What’s up?”

  “You should be too. I’ve got the feeling that today we’ll get a break in David’s case. If not, there’s always the afternoon hassling Elvira Reed at her opening to look forward to.”

  We smiled at each other and both joined in singing “It’s gonna be a great day.”

  I interrupted the song only once to warn Madeleine of another mailbox that seemed about to “step into the road.” She swerved around it and missed the bridge abutment on the other side by a good three inches. Yes sir. It was indeed a great day.

  After a long day of brisk sales, we buttoned up the rig and prepared to visit Elvira’s. The problem was, as I saw it, what were we going to wear? I’d been too distracted by running around trying to pin down Hunter’s identity, keeping Maimie and Moses out of sight, and romping around my bedroom with Alex to give the matter any thought. Madeleine dismissed my concerns, deciding she didn’t feel the need to dress up for her competitor’s launch party, but I wanted to make Elvira’s heart skip a beat with envy at the sight of my class and style and stop altogether with the realization I could outdo her personally as well as in business. So what outfit said all that?

  Madeleine, Maimie, and Moses sat in the living room as I scoured my closet for the perfect ensemble. After rejecting most of what hung there, I threw myself onto the bed in despair.

  “I need to be inspired.” I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the Scotch, poured several fingers in a glass and tossed it down in one gulp. I waited for it to take effect. Aside from that warm feeling that comes with a good Scotch dancing in your stomach, nothing happened. Madeleine picked up the remote and began channel surfing.

  “How long do you think this will take?” she asked.

  I poured myself another finger of Scotch and held up the bottle with a questioning look on my face. “Have one?”

  Everyone shook their heads. Madeleine chose a cooking show “I wish you’d hurry. I had no lunch and my stomach’s growling. Elvira’s invitation said there would be food. If I don’t eat something soon, my blood sugar level will plunge and I’ll black out.”

  Black out?

  “Madeleine, you’re a genius.” I ran back to my bedroom.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this genius is going to raid your cupboards and refrigerator.”

  I heard the television go off and the sound of cupboard doors opening.

  “Don’t you have anything to eat in this house?” she asked.

  “Never mind that. I’m ready.” I walked back into the living room wearing the world’s tightest knit sheath in basic black. I paired it with five-inch-high black leather pumps. My only jewelry was a pair of silver earrings that hung to my shoulders. I repunked my hair so that it stood up in spikes almost as high as my shoes.

  “Ta da!” I said.

  Maimie and Moses’ mouths dropped open in astonishment, but Madeleine eyes twinkled with delight.

  “You nailed it, Eve,” she said.

  “You want to reconsider your dress?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding? This lets me off the hook. Who’s going to notice me? Who’s going to notice anyone but you? I could walk in stark naked and no one would take their eyes off you.” Madeleine clapped her hands in delight.

  “Naked, huh? Why didn’t I think of that? Maybe—”

  Madeleine grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door. “I said you nailed it. Don’t spoil it now.”

  “Wait a minute. I forgot something.�
�� I ran back into my bedroom to grab the amulet off the dresser, then stopped. “Never mind. It doesn’t go with this outfit anyway.”

  The late afternoon was perfect for having the top down on my convertible, and mussing up my hairdo only gave it more wow. Madeleine’s red curls blew away from her face, baring her big eyes and pouty red lips. Two glam gals made more enticing by the warm evening wind. We sailed into the parking lot in front of Elvira’s store in fine style. Madeleine was right. All eyes, even Elvira’s, shifted to me as we entered the store.

  “Where did you get a dress like that?” asked one patron.

  I slid a business card out of my purse and handed it to her without a word. Other women gathered round, and Madeleine and I talked up our unique shop on wheels, giving out most of our cards and promising the women discounts on items to wear to the upcoming rodeo. I temporarily lost track of Elvira, then out of the corner of my eye watched her emerge from the backroom, seething with rage, eyes bulging, cheek twitching, and teeth grinding. She plunged into the crowd around me and waved her arms to get everyone’s attention. In a loud voice, she announced a discount of ten percent for the next ten minutes, a feeble attempt to woo the crowd back to her merchandise.

  “Stay longer and we’ll have a twenty percent markdown coming up.” She gestured toward a table set up with snacks and champagne. “Help yourselves.”

  The woman looked desperate. We had Elvira on the run, in her own store, at her own grand opening. I should have felt guilty. I thought about it for a minute, but swept the idea from my mind. She deserved whatever she got.

  A few of the women wandered over to the food and drink table, but most of them remained near Madeleine and me. To my surprise, Madeleine did have something up her sleeve. I shouldn’t have worried she would cause a scene or try something aggressive with Elvira. Not our Madeleine. It wasn’t her style. Instead she extracted papers from her purse and began distributing them among the customers.

  “What are these?” I asked her. She gave me a flyer, and I read it: