Frosted Shadow - A Toni Diamond Mystery

by Nancy Warren

  When he asked, “Tell me about Nicole.” Melody took out her linen handkerchief, looked at it and put it back into her bag. “Nicole was great. But she could be pretty hard on people.”

  “Go on.”

  “She really expected the best from all of us and if we didn’t reach our goals she took it kind of personal.” She swallowed. Touched her throat. “Is it okay if I have a glass of water?”

  “Of course.” Marciano started to rise but her husband was already out of his seat and headed for the jug of ice water and the glasses the hotel had set out. The room was silent but for the glugging of water and clattering of ice into the glass. He put the water in front of his wife. All his movements were quick and efficient, yet unobtrusive. He was the perfect type to be in the hospitality business, Toni thought, shaking her head when he silently offered her a glass of water before taking his seat once more.

  Melody sipped her water. Ice tinkled against glass. Everybody waited.

  Luke spoke. “You said that if you didn’t reach your goals, Ms. Freedman took that personally. What did you mean by that?”

  “She’d get mad at us. Make us feel like we were personally letting her down.

  “Sometimes she could say some harsh things, but I know it was because she wanted so much for all of us.”

  Toni kept her snort contained but it wasn’t easy. Nicole wasn’t one of those people who achieved sainthood the second they shuffled off this mortal coil. Toni didn’t wish her dead, but that woman had been nasty.

  “Some of the girls couldn’t handle it and they left.”

  “Would you be able to give us the names of the women who quit in the last year?”

  “Oh, but none of them would—I mean—sure. I’m sure I can find all the names and addresses. There aren’t that many.”

  The door to Longhorn B was closed, but Toni could still hear activity outside. She realized that it was the changeover time between conference sessions. No doubt the gossip mill was churning full force with the shocking news about Nicole. No doubt her name was being mentioned pretty frequently too. She wondered if the top brass in the company were considering canceling the remainder of the conference and hoped fiercely that they wouldn’t do that. It seemed important somehow for Nicole, and everything she had stood for, to continue.

  “Is there anything at all that might help us in our search for Nicole’s killer?”

  “Nicole’s killer. I can’t stand hearing those words. I keep wondering if there’s a serial killer in the hotel. What if I’m next? I was the only person who saw those threatening emails.”

  Toni glanced at Luke and their gazes connected. So the notes weren’t invented by Nicole.

  Melody’s voice was rising and starting to wobble. She drank water and Toni could see her hands shaking. She held one out and her husband clasped it in his.

  “I made Thomas stay on with me. He was supposed to go home this morning, but I made him promise he’ll stay with me until the end of convention. He thinks I should go home. But I have to stay. Nicole--”

  “You said she showed you some emails?”

  “We all have our own email addresses and websites at Lady Bianca. These messages seemed to be coming from head office. But they weren’t.”

  “What did the messages say?” Henderson asked in his quiet, calm way. Toni was so worked up by the news she could feel herself leaning forward in her chair wanting to shriek at Melody to hurry up and spill everything, but Henderson sounded exactly the same when asking about threatening notes as he had when he’d asked Melody to confirm her home address and contact numbers.

  “They said to stop stealing the lives and money of her consultants or she’d be sorry.”

  “What do you think the notes referred to?”

  “Well, it’s the same as what she and Toni were fighting about yesterday –” She gulped and turned a panicked face to Toni. “Sorry Toni.”

  “It’s okay.” And she’d have to live with that for the rest of her life. The last words she’d ever spoken to the soon-to-be-dead woman had been hurled in the heat of fury.

  “I think someone was really jealous of our success.” Her eyes glowed when she talked about Nicole and the team. “We were poised for such amazing success. I’m so grateful to Nicole for all she did for me.”

  “Any idea who was sending the notes?”

  “No. She got a techie friend of hers to try and trace them, but it was hopeless. He said the hacker knew what he was doing and had somehow copied the look of the emails we get from head office, but they couldn’t be traced.”

  “Maybe the police would have had better luck,” Luke said. “Did she save the messages?”

  “I’m not sure. I doubt it. She was big on positive thinking and removing anything negative from her life. She probably got rid of them. But you could check her computer.”

  “She didn’t print them out and keep a copy?”

  “I don’t know. She might have.”

  Toni opened her mouth and shut it again. She was dying to know why Nicole showed her the notes.

  “Why did Nicole show you the notes?” Luke asked and Toni felt like kissing him.

  “She wanted to know if I’d received any. And also to brainstorm on who might be sending them.” She took another sip of water. “I think she kind of wanted to share them, too, you know? They were kind of freaky.”

  “Freaky how?”

  “Sort of polite, but scary.”

  “And did anyone else get them to your knowledge?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “When were they sent? And how many were there?”

  “She didn’t tell me about them until a couple of months ago. She said she’d been getting these strange messages but she didn’t say how many. I know she’s had two or three more since then.”

  “When was the last one?”

  “A week ago. Right before we left for convention.

  “Was this message the same as the rest?”

  She shook her head. Picked up her now almost empty water glass. Put it down and shoved her hands over her eyes. “I should have made her go to the cops. I know I should have. The last note said, ‘A person like you doesn’t deserve to live.’”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Beauty is the bait, which, with delight, allures man to enlarge his kind. —Socrates

  That night, Toni did something she almost never did.

  She walked into a bar alone. She’d had a lousy day. Not even the lunch celebrating Lady Bianca’s birthday, complete with a video message from Lady B. herself had been enough to lift her spirits. There were too many empty spots at the lunch tables, too many reps abandoning the conference and those who stayed weren’t exactly on top form.

  Toni walked into the dimly-lit lobby lounge and headed straight for the dark gleaming wood of the bar itself with its neatly spaced line up of upholstered stools. She sat on the middle one and ordered a glass of white wine.

  She’d barely tasted her drink when a man took the stool beside her.

  She ignored him, until he called to the bartender, “Excuse me,” he said. “What would a recently accused murder suspect order to drink?”

  She turned to him. His face was sensitive and intelligent, his hair a mop of black curls that looked somehow Irish and poetic. He wore a brown corduroy jacket and a shirt that was open at the neck revealing dark chest hair. “Are you joking?”

  “No. I am a murder suspect. If you want me to move away, of course I’ll understand. I could sit in that dark corner over there.” He gestured to the farthest recesses.

  The bartender wasn’t interested in guessing what he should drink so he sighed and said, “Cognac.”

  “So, did you?” she asked. “Kill her?”

  “Kill Amy Neuman?” He shook his head and stared down at the dark wood. “No. She was a dear friend. I hurt her emotionally, but I’d never harm her. She loved me, you see.”

  Bad luck for Amy. This guy was exactly the sort of man who’d tell a woman in a ba
r about his conquests. What an ass.

  “I’m Joseph Mandeville,” he said. “My friends call me Joe.”

  “Right. The guy who wrote a book about committing the perfect murder.”

  “And then gets involved in one.”

  “I’m Toni Diamond. I’m an independent…” She was too tired for her usual spiel. “I sell make up.”

  He frowned into his glass. ”I hurt her-- And now she’s gone. I will always regret that she left this world harboring ill feelings toward me.”

  Oh, boy. Hardly an egotist at all. The poor woman was horribly murdered, and he was worrying about whether he’d be kept awake at night because of his less than gallant behavior.

  “Well, you write about murder, maybe you can also help solve them. An English teacher who reads mysteries and a woman who sells makeup both die. The only connection is that the first victim had a make over in the second victim’s room.”

  Joseph Mandeville shook his head at her in a chiding way. “You’ve jumped to conclusions, Toni. Remember, ‘When the probable has been excluded, the improbable remains.’”

  “Is that a quote?”

  “Yes. Sherlock Holmes.”

  She shook her head. “What is it with you people and Holmes?” She sipped her drink. “Probable, improbable. Everything’s starting to seem improbable. If not impossible. If it weren’t for the actual corpses, I wouldn’t believe there’d been two murders myself.”

  “Maybe there is no connection.”

  “You think the two murders could be coincidence? That’s what I thought, but the police are convinced they’re linked.”

  “Coincidences do happen. In spite of the old wives’ tale to the contrary, lightening does strike the same spot twice. It’s unusual, but statistically possible. Lightning has no memory of where it struck.” He paused to take another healthy sip of his drink. “The number of real life murders I have studied have led me to believe that anything can and does happen. It’s possible there is no connection.”

  “So, you didn’t know Nicole Freedman.” She paused, glancing sideways at him. “Did you?”

  “Lord, no.” He shuddered. “Those makeup women terrify me.” Then, realizing to whom he was speaking, he added, “Present company excepted, of course.”

  She smiled, feeling unaccountably better now she had someone to talk to who really understood what she was going through. “We’re not so bad once you get to know us.”

  “Especially one on one.” He turned his head just so and a lock of poetically Irish hair fell artistically across his brow. If her mom could see him coming on to Toni she’d say, ‘Well, ain't he just the tom-cat's kitten?’

  Even if she’d had any interest in this guy, all she had to do was remember what happened to the last woman he was intimate with and her interest was squashed.

  “They searched my room, you know. Went through my things.”

  She imagined unknown cops pawing through her stuff and was horrified. “How awful.” Then, because she always spoke when she should shut up said, “Did they find anything?”

  “No. But I’ve agreed to voluntarily hand over some correspondence. It’s obvious her husband killed her, and her love for me is the motive, so the letters are evidence. Amy had a lovely way with words. She wrote some passionate letters and cards as well as emails. I couldn’t bear to destroy them. Horrible to think of strangers reading them out of context.” He stared into his drink. Brooding. “I had led the police to believe we’d only just met here. Trying to be a gentleman in my own hopeless way.” Or protect himself from suspicion?

  “So you didn’t just meet?”

  “No. We had in fact enjoyed a passionate, physical relationship. I believe she misunderstood my intentions. I’m a man of the world, Toni. I travel a great deal and meet a number of interesting women.” He glanced up, let his gaze travel lower than her face. “Such as yourself. But it’s not in my nature to settle, or to tie myself to one woman. She misunderstood. Had already started divorce proceedings.”

  “She left her husband for you?” Poor, poor Amy.

  “No. She left her husband because the marriage was over. I was a convenient excuse and I like to think I helped her get over the rough emotional ground.”

  “I’m guessing she didn’t see it that way?”

  “You’d make a good detective, Toni,” he said with a slight smile. “No, she did not. She was angry and upset and the nights we’d planned together here never happened.” He shook his head. “She was never in my room, which was at least helpful in keeping me from being arrested for her murder.”

  “Are the police making you stay in the area?”

  “No. After the mystery readers conference ends tomorrow, I’m free to leave.” He took another sip of his drink. “I intend to stay however. It’s not every day that a true crime writer is on the scene for a double murder. And implicated in one of them.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your next book.” And she had a feeling more strangers would end up reading poor Amy’s impassioned letters.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t ask for this to happen, but I’d be a fool not to take advantage.”

  “But what about Amy’s—“

  “Damn. My least favorite cop just walked in.” He drained the drink. He rose, gave her a practiced come to bed look. “I have a copy of my book upstairs if you’d like to see what I mean about coincidence?”

  Smooth as a greased pig. “Thanks. But I’ve had all the excitement I can stand for one day.”

  He took the brush off in good humor. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Toni. I’m in Room 1213 if you change your mind.” He held out his hand and she shook it.

  From the other direction, Luke was approaching. He gave Joseph the barest hint of a curt nod before taking the seat on the other side of Toni.

  He didn’t waste time on greetings. “How do you know Mandeville?”

  “I don’t. He was hitting on me.”

  “Huh.”

  “I see the hand cream’s working for you.”

  He shook his head at her. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because your hands don’t have dirt under the nails. And the skin’s smoother.”

  “Maybe I didn’t work on my truck last night.”

  And maybe she’d had a full night’s sleep. “Why can’t you just admit that our products are great?”

  “Because I know you. You’ll try and sell me a pedicure set for men.”

  He looked as tired as she felt. “We don’t sell pedicure sets for men, silly.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. “But there’s a Moisturizer for Him that would –”

  “No!”

  She shrugged. One day he’d learn to love his skin. Maybe not today, but one day. “Joseph Mandeville said something interesting just now.”

  “I doubt it.”

  She ignored the sarcasm. “He quoted Holmes, saying that ‘When the probable has been excluded, the improbable remains.’”

  “Yeah? I got a quote for you. ‘Everybody lies.’ Especially Mandeville.”

  She felt as though she’d been smacked. It was at that moment that she began to see a glimmer of possibility in the darkness of puzzlement.

  “Everybody lies.” She leaned forward toward Luke. “If we stop believing everything that can’t be proven, then it all looks different, doesn’t it?”

  He looked at her as though she hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. Which was true. “What exactly are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about things we’ve been assuming that could be completely the opposite.”

  He scooped peanuts out of the communal bowl on the counter in front of him and popped one in his mouth. “You got something you want to share with the rest of the class? We can use all the fresh ideas you’ve got.”

  “Hmm? Oh, no. I was thinking about business. My business, I mean, not yours. Sorry.”

  The bartender came by. “What can I get you?”

  He ordered a beer, motioned to her drink wit
h his brows raised but she shook her head. His badge gleamed on his belt as he turned.

  He acknowledged the beer with nod, took a drink, all the while keeping his gaze on her. “I can see the gears turning.”

  “If you stop believing everything that can’t be proven, things can start to look different.”

  “You got any specific things in mind?”

  “You can’t prove there’s a connection between Amy Neuman and Nicole Freedman. It’s improbable that the murders have nothing to do with each other, but not impossible. And there are some things I’m going to check on. Lady Bianca stuff.”

  He didn’t look entirely convinced but neither did he look as though he were going to push her, which was just as well. The notion that had smacked her was still vague and she wasn’t anywhere near sure that she was right.

  “Any luck finding those threatening emails?”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. He was as tired as she was, she thought. “Nothing on her laptop here. Henderson’s driven to her home to see if there’s anything there.”

  “Henderson drove all that way?”

  “He’s meeting some tech guys there, but we wanted someone from our department on scene to check out Nicole’s home.”

  “Isn’t it awfully far?”

  “About a four hour drive.”

  “Huh. I never knew Nicole and I lived so close together.”

  “All those tea parties you missed.”

  Since she couldn’t possibly explain that she was going to miss Nicole in a strange way, she didn’t bother answering.

  “What did you think of the emails as Melody described them?”

  “The word creepy springs to mind.”

  He shifted on his seat to get a better view of her face. “The wording.”

  “We’re assuming Melody remembers that one email word for word?”

  “Seemed like she was repeating something she’d memorized, yeah.”

  He sipped his beer and glanced over the room, as a reflex action she bet, who was here? Where might potential trouble start? She wondered if he ever truly relaxed.