“I don’t know about that, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he decided to sue just to be nasty,” Tiara said, ever the pessimist.
“Ha! No worries, lass. I told your mama – we small business folk watch out for each other,” his grin felt somehow menacing. He went over to talk to Reggie and mother and daughter exchanged a disturbed look.
Saying their goodbyes and beating a hasty retreat, Marilyn and Tiara headed to the cottage for lunch.
“Did the way that Captain Bob talked creep you out a little bit?” Tiara asked tentatively.
“At first, yes, but it seems to me that he’s just a chivalrous guy from a different era who likes to rescue damsels in distress,” her mother smiled.
“Yeah, I guess I can see that,” she nodded. “I’m starving…what’s for lunch?” she asked, glad to change the subject.
Chapter 22
Marilyn sighed when she and Tiara turned the corner onto her street and saw Detective Bernard Cortland’s car parked in front of her house.
“Maybe he wants to take you to lunch?” Tiara suggested playfully, seeing her mother’s reaction.
“Definitely not,” she shook her head. “It seems that every time I see that man these days, he’s bringing me more bad news,” she frowned.
Her daughter stopped in her tracks. “You know what? I’ve had just about enough bad news for a while…I’m just going to head home if you don’t mind,” she looked at her mother, hoping for understanding.
“Of course, sweetie. Enjoy your day,” Marilyn hugged her. “And come over for dinner if you’re not busy,” she smiled at her beautiful girl.
“I might just take you up on that,” Tiara returned her smile and gave a jaunty wave as she turned for home.
Bernard got out of his car and leaned against it as she approached.
“What now?” she asked, emotionally exhausted all of the sudden.
“Wow…great to see you too,” he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Sorry, I just…” Marilyn began. He held up a hand to stop her.
“No, it’s okay, I get it,” the detective nodded. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure, why not,” she shrugged, knowing that she really didn’t have a choice. “But I need coffee, so you’ll have to be patient while I make it,” she decreed.
“Not a problem, I could use some myself,” he followed her, hands in his trouser pockets.
**
“So, what is it now?” Marilyn asked, after setting steaming mugs of coffee in front of them.
“Well, there are a couple of things…you might be interested to know that I was able to verify your husband’s account of what happened between him and Melvin Bland,” the detective said, taking out his notebook.
“Wait…Daniel was telling the truth about that?” she was astonished.
“Not only that, but after executing a search warrant, we found evidence that Melvin was indeed the one who tampered with your power lines and tried to break into your home,” he confirmed.
“Well, I guess he won’t be suing me now, even though he still has some deranged idea that I killed his mother,” she shook her head.
“Uh…about that…” Bernard pursed his lips.
“Oh geez, Detective. Please don’t tell me that you think I’m a suspect,” she sighed impatiently, dropping her head onto her hand.
“No, not at all. I know that you’re not a suspect, because we’ve jailed the perpetrator in that case.”
“You have? Oh my goodness…who was it?” she demanded.
“It was Melvin,” the detective tapped his pen on the notebook in front of him. “When we went looking for evidence related to your case, we found a brand new copy of her will that left everything to him. It had been signed and executed the day before her death. We also found the murder weapon, which answers one question, but opens the door to a whole host of others,” he admitted.
“Really? How?” Marilyn asked, leaning forward and sipping her coffee.
“Well, I had been laboring under the assumption that the murder of your ex-husband’s business partner was somehow related to the murder of Elizabeth Melman, simply because of the cause of death and the timing, but the weapon that was used on her was definitely different than the one used on Brad,” he explained.
“Oh my! Elizabeth Melman’s throat was cut?” Marilyn was horrified.
“Yes, but not even remotely in the same way as Brad’s. Her…incision was much smaller, more precise, and there were…markings which indicated a degree of serration in Brad’s…injury, that wasn’t present in hers,” he said, trying to be delicate.
“Eww…” Marilyn paled a bit, then her eyes flew open wide as she remembered something.
“What’s wrong?” Bernard asked, trying to interpret her expression.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, rising from the table as though in a daze. She went to the drawer in the kitchen where she had stashed both Daniel’s knife, and the manila envelope that he had left for Tiara. She explained to the detective how the knife had been found, and how she’d planned to turn it in, but had gotten sidetracked. Then she told him that Daniel had left the envelope for Tiara before disappearing.
“So, you neither opened the envelope, nor reported its or the knife’s existence to the police?” Bernard was incredulous. “Do you realize that if your ex-husband actually did murder his client, that withholding evidence like this makes you an accessory to the crime?”
The color drained from Marilyn’s face as she realized the implications of his words. “Would…is Tiara safe?” she asked numbly.
“If she gave you the envelope assuming that you’d be turning it in as potential evidence, then, yes, she’d have nothing to worry about,” he nodded gravely.
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “She tried to take the knife too, but I wouldn’t let her. She’s totally innocent. I am too, but I suppose that doesn’t matter now, does it?” her eyes filled with tears. After as hard as she’d fought to build and maintain her business, she stood to lose everything anyway…because of Daniel. It seemed that he was never done destroying her life.
“Let’s see what’s in the envelope before we jump to conclusions,” he cautioned, holding out his hand.
Chapter 23
Her hands shaking, Marilyn knew that there was no way that she’d be able to open the envelope safely, so she pushed it toward the detective, along with her mahogany handled letter opener. Bernard took the opener and slit open the top of the large envelope, shaking the contents carefully out onto the table top. There was a large collection of copies of contracts, news clippings and receipts that he began flipping through with great interest. Marilyn couldn’t stand the suspense and got up to refill their coffee, reaching into her breadbox for a loaf of vanilla iced lime poundcake, not because she was hungry, but because eating sweets was her reflex response to stress. She took comfort food to another whole level. She sliced a hearty chunk of cake for each of them, plated the slices, and brought them to the table.
“Unbelievable,” the detective shook his head, astounded.
“Yeah, I know…it’s a bad habit that I have. I crave sweets when I’m stressed, and…”
“No, I’m not talking about the cake,” Bernard interrupted. “I mean what’s here,” he gestured to the pile of papers on the table. “What was in the envelope…I never saw it coming, even though I should have,” he grimaced, figuratively kicking himself.
Marilyn sank down into her chair. “Why?” she asked, bracing herself. “What does it say?”
“Robert Jensen…the last person I’d have suspected,” Cortland mused.
“Robert Jensen? Why does that name sound familiar?” Marilyn wondered aloud.
“Because it’s your buddy, Captain Bob,” the detective dropped the bombshell.
She was speechless, her mouth hanging open in shock. “Now wait, are you trying to tell me that Daniel’s cockamamie story about Captain Bob being the killer is true?” she exclaimed.
“I
didn’t believe it any more than you did, but the evidence here pretty clearly shows that business associates with whom he doesn’t get along have a strange way of dying or disappearing. You gave me a heads up on this days ago, and I should have followed up on it then,” the muscles in the detective’s jaw twitched.
Marilyn put it together. “Daniel’s knife was found on Captain Bob’s boat, Brad’s body washed up on shore, which means that it had to have been taken out to sea at some point, and Daniel had no way to transport a body. But…what motive would Bob have had for killing Brad? He barely knew him, right?” she asked, confused.
“This.” Bernard gestured at the extensive history on the table in front of them. “Brad had enough dirt on Robert Jensen to put him away for good, and according to some emails that I found in here,” he shuffled through some clippings to find the emails. “Brad was blackmailing the captain, threatening to expose his shady past dealings if he didn’t practically give him the charter business,” he explained, scanning the series of emails.
Marilyn swallowed hard, past the lump in her throat, surprised at her reaction. “So, if Brad had these materials and was killed for them, and then Daniel had them…do you suppose that Daniel disappeared because…because…” she couldn’t go on.
“Because Robert killed him?” the detective finished her sentence for her while she tried to compose herself, feeling foolish at crying over the possible demise of her ex-husband. “I don’t know. It certainly seems possible, and I intend to find that out,” he promised, determined. “I need to take this with me…and you’ll be safer without it hanging around,” he assured her.
“Do you think Daniel knew that he might be putting Tiara in danger by giving it to her?” Marilyn asked softly, sniffling.
The detective bit back his instinctive response. “Hard to say,” he took a breath, then wanting to lessen the blow, graciously added, “maybe he knew that his daughter was a young woman of profound integrity whom he could trust to do the right thing.”
She nodded, staring down at her untouched piece of poundcake. “Yeah, I’m sure that was it,” she said numbly. “Now, what Captain Bob said about Elizabeth Melman’s death makes sense. He didn’t really attach a great significance to the lives of people whom he didn’t like, so death really wasn’t a big deal to him,” she murmured, remembering the uncomfortable moment when he’d seemed to be happy about the old woman’s demise.
Bernard gave her a questioning look and she told him what had happened at her appointment with the contractor, when Bob had popped in for a visit.
“So…now what?” Marilyn asked.
“Now…you and Tiara need to stick together and try to relax in the most publicly visible place possible…a crowded restaurant, a souvenir stand, a shopping mall, something like that, and I’m going to go pay a visit to Mr. Jensen at the marina,” he replied, telling rather than asking.
“How will I know when it’s safe to come home?” she asked, suddenly frightened that a ruthless killer might be stalking her and her daughter.
“I’ll let you know. You can always go to the police station if you feel uncomfortable in public,” he advised. “Go pick up your daughter – I’ll contact you as soon as I know something.”
Marilyn nodded, throwing away the cake, turning off the coffee pot and quickly stashing the cups and plates in the dishwasher before grabbing her keys. As she forced herself to do the speed limit while driving to Tiara’s apartment, the dam of emotion that she’d been so successfully holding back, suddenly and dramatically burst, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She wept for the love that she’d once had for a carefree young man who turned into a troubled adult. She wept because her daughter had grown up without the consistent love of a responsible father. She wept for the death of a crotchety old woman, who was killed by her own family for the love of money, and she wept because in all of this…she felt utterly alone.
Chapter 24
Swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, trying desperately to pull herself together before she had to get out of the car to fetch Tiara, Marilyn strongly advised herself to just quit with the pity party and be an adult, but the genie of emotion had been loosed from its bottle and was hard to stuff back in. Getting out of the car, she had a vague premonition of doom that she chalked up to the extreme emotions that she had experienced of late. Knocking on the door, the feeling of unease grew stronger, and she put a hand to her forehead to see if she had a fever or something.
“Hi Mom!” Tiara answered the door with a smile. “You’ll never guess who’s here,” she swung the door open wide so that her mother could enter, and Marilyn stopped dead in her tracks. Captain Robert “Bob” Jensen was sitting at her daughter’s kitchen table, calmly sipping a soda.
“Hey there, pie lady,” he called out, raising a hand in welcome.
“Captain Bob,” she replied, trying to summon every ounce of willpower within her to keep her voice from shaking. Quite obviously, Tiara had no idea that she was having an afternoon snack with a killer, and tipping her off to the fact that something was wrong could put both of them in mortal danger. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” she asked, hoping that he hadn’t detected the slight tremor in her voice.
“Mom, are you okay?” Tiara asked, before he could answer.
“I…I haven’t had anything to eat yet today…and, I think I might be coming down with something,” she said faintly, putting a hand to her thundering heart.
“Well, then, come sit down lass,” the captain gestured to a chair across from him as Marilyn tried to read his eyes.
“Thanks,” she tried to smile as she sat down across from the murderer.
“Captain Bob came out to see if I’d heard from Dad,” Tiara said, giving her mother a meaningful look.
“Oh?” Marilyn gulped at the iced ginger-ale that her daughter had set in front of her, welcoming the distraction.
“Your ex owed me money. You don’t suppose he’d skip town without paying, do ya?” Bob inquired casually.
“I have no idea,” Marilyn shrugged. “I haven’t known Daniels habits for several years now,” she said truthfully.
“I’m thinking perhaps he left a check for me in the packet of papers that he passed on to your lovely daughter,” he leaned forward, his eyes drilling into hers.
Marilyn swallowed, the sides of her throat sticking together and making a tiny clicking sound as she searched frantically for a response. She had hoped that Tiara hadn’t mentioned the packet. “Well…I certainly hope not,” she said finally, smiling a tight rictus of a smile. “Because that packet went up in flames in my fireplace this morning,” she shrugged. “I’d be happy to write you a check for the balance due on his account if you’d like.”
“Mom! You didn’t!” Tiara gasped, astonished. Captain Bob slowly raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of his soda, the condensation from the outside of the glass running past his fingers and down his arm.
“I want no part of whatever excuse Daniel intended to give for his deplorable behavior,” she said, staring her daughter down, hoping that she’d catch on. Marilyn never referred to Tiara’s father by his first name when she spoke to her daughter.
“I can’t believe you did that,” the young woman shook her head, still not getting it. “He gave that to me for a reason, and now we’ll never know what was in there,” she accused, perfectly pointing out what her mother wanted the murderer to hear. If she could convince him that the two of them knew nothing about him, perhaps he’d go on his way, and they’d live to tell the tale.
“She didn’t,” Bob stated flatly, glaring at Marilyn.
“What?” Tiara was confused, and looked from her mother to the captain and back again, as she held the man’s gaze without wavering.
“Your mama may be many things – a good cook, a successful business woman, and darn pretty…but she can’t lie to save her life, apparently,” he said, his tone turning sinister.
Tiara’s eyes grew wide, realizing that somet
hing was wrong. “What…what do you mean?” she asked, sounding younger than her twenty-two years.
Robert Jensen ignored her and zeroed in on Marilyn, who was still valiantly trying to maintain a calm façade. “You opened it, didn’t you, lass? You saw everything that they were going to use to blackmail me out of my business, didn’t you?” he leaned closer. So close that Marilyn could smell the sea salt in his clothing and the sweat patches that darkened his shirt under the arms.
“Didn’t you???” he yelled in her face, making her flinch, but still, she remained silent. “Oh, that’s how you want to play it?” he mocked her. “You need to be roughed up before you’ll talk? Well, we can take care of that, lass,” he raised his hand to strike her, and, ever the tough girl, Tiara grabbed his arm.
“No!” she screamed. “Don’t you touch my mother!” she had both hands clamped around his wrist and he tried to shake her off.
“Tiara, stop!” her mother screamed. “Get away, please!” she pleaded. “He’ll kill you too,” she shouted as her daughter struggled to maintain her grip while the older man wrestled with her.
Marilyn saw the moment that her remark hit home and Tiara realized what was going on. Her face paled for a brief moment, then self-preservation skills kicked in and she fought like a hellcat, scratching, slapping and kicking. Seeing that her daughter was not going to relent, she quickly grabbed the first thing that she could find, a ceramic Elvis lamp, and smashed it into the side of Captain Bob’s head. When he reached up, howling in pain, Tiara seized the moment, jumping onto his back and kicking his knees until they buckled, spilling him onto the floor with her on top of him. Wasting no time, the young woman employed every tactic she’d learned in her college self-defense courses, and soon had Robert Jensen’s hands pushed up between his shoulder blades, with both of her knees in his back. Marilyn sat on his legs so that he couldn’t kick his way out, and started to dial 911 when a fierce pounding sounded at the door, followed by the welcome deep voice of Bernard Cortland.
A Deadly Slice of Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 6 Page 8
