I assembled a stack of paperwork and was able to work on that and pay bills between customers. When I’d sealed some envelopes, I discovered I was down to my last few stamps. There were no customers in either shop, so it was a good time to run the errand. I grabbed my coat and purse and stuck my head in the archway between our shops. “Hey, Pinky, I’ve got to run up to the post office. I’ll be back in a few.”
She was writing something on a notepad and gave me a quick look. “’Kay.”
The post office wasn’t far, but the temperature was in the low thirties, and I decided to drive instead of walk. On my way back I was about to turn left on the street that led to the back parking lot when I noticed a familiar car pulling up to the curb across from our shops. It looked like the same one I had followed to Plymouth, the one belonging to Bryan George. Instead of turning, I pulled over and parked not quite a block away. Will Dalton got out of the passenger side and headed across the street toward Brew Ha-Ha’s door. That could not be good. I had on a knitted cap and pulled it lower so my cheeks were partially covered. I got out of the car, crossed the street, and walked fast and furiously to my shop door.
I heard Will Dalton’s voice in Pinky’s shop and moved to the archway to listen. “I heard your employee bailed out of jail and went to talk to the Brooks Landing Police. They indicated there might not be enough evidence against Emaline Andersohn after all. Be assured I am not going to let this rest. The poisoned coffee came from here, and if the police dismiss the criminal charges, I will pursue civil action.”
I stepped into Brew Ha-Ha, ready to defend Pinky, but Will Dalton was already headed out the door. Pinky’s face was white, and her mouth was open as she watched him leave. Then she pointed and ran halfway to the door. “That’s him!”
“Who?”
“That guy standing by the Porsche. He’s the one who was in the shop the day Molly died, the one that asked about the blonde.”
“What?”
“He’s getting in his car now. And Will Dalton is getting in with him.”
“Dear Lord. Call Mark or Clint or any cop. I’m going to see where they’re going. We’ll talk about what Dalton said later.”
“Cami—”
I didn’t hear the rest of her words. I rushed out my shop door and was heading north on the sidewalk before Mr. George pulled onto the street. I prayed he didn’t spot me in his rearview mirror. And when he started driving away, I crossed the street as fast as my legs would carry me. I climbed in my car, glad I’d forgotten to turn the ignition off. It was warmed up and ready to go. Two cars fell in between the Porsche and mine, a good separation. Mr. George went south then turned west and drove to the golf course, the same one Clint and I had eaten at Saturday night. One of the cars had turned off, and with only the one between us, I held back a bit as George turned onto the golf course drive then into the main parking lot.
I drove straight to the back parking lot, thinking it was nothing less than serendipity or divine intervention that Clint and I had used the back entrance on Saturday. I wouldn’t have known it was there otherwise. My cell phone rang as I was turning off the ignition. I wrestled it out of my coat pocket and saw it was Pinky. “Cami, I left messages for both Clint and Mark.”
“Thanks, Pinky. When they call back, tell them I’m at the golf course restaurant. I followed the Porsche here. You know what? I’ll call them myself.” After we hung up, I phoned Clint, and when it went straight to voicemail, I told him where I was and why. Then I headed into the clubhouse. I crept up the steps until I could see into the bar area where a handful of people were eating. Will Dalton and Bryan George were not among them. There was a hostess at the top of the steps, and I willed myself to be casual when I said, “Hi, I’m looking for the two men that came in a minute ago.”
“Oh yes, I’ll show you to their table.”
“No, that’s okay. Just point me in the right direction.”
“All right, well, they requested to be in the small dining room to discuss some business. It’s normally not open for lunch.” It was the one Clint and I had eaten in, and unless they were sitting by the door, I figured I could slip in unseen.
“Sure, that makes sense. Thanks.” I turned and headed to the short hallway that led to the room. One of the glass double doors was closed, and the other was slightly ajar. I couldn’t see the men from there. I remembered the wait station area on the immediate right, went through the door, and quietly slipped into it. There were two open pass-through windows for the waiters to use.
I unbuttoned my coat, went down on my knees, and crept to the openings. The men were sitting next to each other at a table two rows away. It was angled so they could both see out the large south windows that overlooked the golf course. They had their backs to the wait station. Even though it was dark in the area, I stayed to the side of the opening so they wouldn’t see me if they happened to turn around. I remembered my cell phone, took it out, and turned it to silent.
Bryan George was talking, and the first thing I heard was, “. . . very smoothly.”
Will Dalton reached over and gave Bryan George a slap on the back. “That’s an understatement. It was nothing less than ingenious. Why I married Molly in the first place is beyond me.”
Oh my gosh. I lifted up my phone and found the video record icon. I set it on the counter by the opening, praying they didn’t notice. As it turned out, they were too preoccupied with their disgusting discussion.
“We all have a lapse in judgment when it comes to women at least once in our lives. So be careful with that hot little red-haired beauty you keep close at hand.”
“Tiffany’s a nice diversion and not a bad assistant. But I think it’s about time for her to move on.”
“That’s wise. Now that you’re a widower, she might start seeing wedding bells.”
“That won’t happen. Been there, done that.”
“Molly was a real fool to think she could divorce you. And you’re right about what you said earlier; she probably would have gotten half your money,” Bryan said.
“Molly played me for a fool, no question. First she wanted a baby, then when I made sure that didn’t happen, she wanted fertility treatments, and then she wanted to adopt. The last straw was when I stumbled across the bill from her divorce attorney,” Will said.
“She had no clue that she was the one who helped us pull together the perfect murder. When she told you that she and Emaline Andersohn were going to be working together, everything fell into place.”
They’d known Emmy was Emaline Andersohn before Molly died and had used the information for their wicked plans. Dear Lord.
Will chuckled then said, “It was the ideal setup, and Andersohn was the perfect dupe for the Podunk cops here. I did not expect her to bail out of jail, however.”
Bryan shook his head. “No. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out a way to seal her fate, make sure she’s convicted of the crime. She’s old so what does it matter? The two of us have a lot of living ahead of us.”
“I picked the right man when I picked you for the job, Bryan.”
“Offering me partner in the firm was the right incentive, Will.”
“And meanwhile, the cyanide is safely hidden until we need it as evidence against our prime suspect?” Will said.
“It’s in the lockbox of my trunk, at the ready.”
Will and Bryan were Molly’s killers. I had to call 911. My heart started pounding so loudly, I thought they’d hear it for sure. I had to get out of there while the getting was good. I reached for my phone, but my hand wasn’t working right and it slipped out. The noise was enough to alert the men.
“Someone here?” I heard Will say.
I plastered my back against the wall, hoping they wouldn’t see me as I slid my way to the exit door. But they beat me to it and blocked my path. The three of us were at a staring standoff for what seemed like an eternity when
Will finally said, “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Um, well, it’s lunchtime.” I dropped my phone in my coat pocket.
Bryan reached for my arm, but I turned and he missed. “What are you hiding?”
The look on my face must have given me away. “Hiding?”
“How long have you been here?” Bryan said.
“Not long.”
“You’re lying,” Will said.
I tried sidestepping away from him, but he was faster and grabbed hold of my arm. Then Bryan grabbed the other. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but we’ve got a solution for that, right, Bryan?”
Bryan lips twisted into a sneer. “Yes, we do. A solution at the ready.”
At the ready. His words burned into my brain. He was talking about the cyanide; they were planning to poison me. We were in a public place, and there was no way they could kidnap me without being seen or heard. I’d scream at the top of my lungs. As soon as I found my voice.
“Grab a napkin to gag her,” Will said and tightened his hold on me. It was now or never. I threw myself back against the glass door, prepared for the worst. It wasn’t latched, and it pushed open with enough force to bounce against the wall. When I fell, Will lost his balance and stumbled. The door caught him on the side of the head.
I rolled to my feet surprisingly fast and rushed toward the lobby yelling, “Call nine-one-one! It’s an emergency and we need the police!”
“We’re here.” Mark and Clint came running toward me. A number of people filled in behind them but stopped at the end of the short hallway. I pointed at the dining room where Will Dalton and Bryan George were standing. Will was rubbing his head and looking a little stunned. Bryan’s eyes were darting every which way.
“They did it. They killed Molly. I heard them talking about it and recorded them.” The words tumbled out.
“You little—” Will started. But before he finished, Mark grabbed him, turned him around, and handcuffed him.
Why Bryan George tried to push his way past us is beyond me, but Clint had him on the ground and his hands cuffed behind his back in seconds. Then he guided him to his feet. Bryan George and Will Dalton exchanged one last look.
Clint threw a glance at the growing crowd. “Show is over, folks. It’s time to get back to your own business.” When the people all turned and were walking away, he zeroed in on me. “Meet us at the station.”
There was a lump in my throat, and I nodded. After Clint and Mark left with their prisoners, I hurried down the steps and out the back way before anyone stopped me to ask questions. Safely in my car, I reached in my pocket for my phone, and my fingers touched a penny I’d dropped in there at some point. I needed a heads-up today, that was for sure. I sucked in a big breath then released it as I pulled the phone out. It was still recording. I stopped it, sat for another minute, then called Pinky with the news.
Pinky coughed then cleared her throat. “Cami, oh my gosh, Cami. Will Dalton is one evil man.”
“He is, and so is his friend. I have to go the police station, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”
“No worries here.”
“Give my folks a call if you need help; maybe they can come in for a while.”
“We’ll see. Cami, they are going to totally freak out about this.”
—
The police department receptionist directed me to wait in Clint’s office. The minutes ticked by slowly until Clint finally joined me. “You can relax, Camryn. I have calmed down and will not be giving you the same lecture I gave you yesterday, because I would obviously just be wasting my breath. That being said, I have to say thank you—for following your instincts and for your quick thinking, recording the conversation of those two hoodlums. Well done.” He held out his hand. “Can I have your phone, please?”
It was cradled in my hand. It seemed like the safest place to keep it. I gave it to Clint without saying a word.
“Did you listen to the recording?” Clint asked, and I shook my head. Hearing their conversation once was enough. “I’ll send it to the computer here and save it on a few flash drives for backup evidence. And I’ll need to put your phone in evidence.”
“Really? Is that necessary?”
“Until I hear differently from the county attorney. A smart lawyer might argue we altered the recording.”
It was a small sacrifice if it helped put Molly’s killers away. “All right.”
“Neither one of those men will talk, which I expected. They lawyered up, and it might take a while for the attorneys in their firm to track down the best of the best to defend them.”
“If the lawyers in their firm were smart, they would put as much distance as they possibly could between themselves and those animals.”
Clint nodded once, found the recording he needed, and finished his task.
15
Two days after Will Dalton and Bryan George had been locked up in the Buffalo County Jail, we got the news that the St. Paul Police had tracked down Troy Ryland at his girlfriend’s house. He was transported to Buffalo County, booked into jail, and would be appearing before a judge the next court day.
Pinky and I had decided to have a little impromptu gathering at Brew Ha-Ha when we closed up shop Saturday night. Erin offered to bring wine, and Pinky and I made food. We invited the people we felt needed to debrief with us. Irene Ryland, Emmy Andersohn and her friend Lester, my parents, Erin, Mark, and Clint.
“Why didn’t you invite Ramona Zimmer, Cami?” Erin said before the others got there. She waited for my reaction then added, “Kidding.”
Pinky frowned. “Erin.”
“Believe it or not, she called me this morning and apologized for breaking the snow globe and running off.” Pinky and Erin exchanged a look I couldn’t read. “What?” I said.
“Nothing,” Erin said.
I let it go. “Anyway, we talked for a while. I don’t think things are going that great for her and Peter. It wouldn’t surprise me if Peter takes off in search of greener pastures soon.” And maybe she was starting to realize I was not to blame after all.
“I think that’s the best thing that could happen,” Pinky said.
The rest of our guests arrived in the next few minutes, and we hashed and rehashed the events of the past week and a half. Erin and Mark opened the bottles and poured wine for everyone. When we all had a glass in our hands, I lifted mine up. “Here’s to Molly, who left us too soon, and to the police who put the bad guys behind bars.” The tinkling sound of glasses filled the room.
“And here’s to our brave friend, Cami, who—” Pinky started.
I waved my hand and smiled. “I don’t think the police officers here want to get into all that again.”
A few people snickered, and even Clint smiled.
“No, I think we should toast you, Cami. You believed me when not everyone else did.” Emmy raised her glass.
Irene did the same. “Yes, and you showed you cared by doing something about it. Now my Molly can rest in peace.” Clint had spoken with the county attorney who’d assured him the case against Irene Ryland was very weak, and they were dropping the charges. There was no physical proof Molly had been responsible for her stepfather’s death. What Irene relayed to the police—what her daughter had told her she’d done—was considered “hearsay” evidence, and not admissible in court.
I had tears in my eyes as we clinked our glasses again.
Irene raised her hand. “Oh, and I have a proper service set for Molly next Tuesday evening, and you are all invited.”
I took Irene’s hand in mine and nodded.
Pinky disappeared then returned with her hands behind her back. Erin moved in next to her, and they stood in front of me with smiles on their faces. “What’s going on?” I said.
Pinky brought her arms back around, and in her right hand
was a snow globe. She held it up for everyone to see then handed it to me. The figure of Marilyn Monroe was standing in the center. “Ta-da! Here you go. Erin made it for you, and I helped by sneaking the figure off your counter this afternoon.”
I hadn’t noticed it was missing. “Pinky, Erin, I love it.”
“And that’s what gave us the idea to put Marilyn back in a snow globe. We knew how much you admired the original one,” Erin said.
I shook the globe and watched the snow settle around Marilyn Monroe’s feet. “I am really impressed—it looks professional.”
Erin shrugged. “I had fun learning how to make them last month at the class you and Pinky held here.”
“And you’re good at making them, too,” Pinky said.
Mom and Dad moved in closer. “If we have any more mishaps and break a snow globe, it looks like Erin is the one to call,” Dad said.
I gave Erin and Pinky each a warm hug. “Thank you.” I passed the snow globe around so everyone could take a closer look. Emmy held it the longest, and I imagined she was working through the unpleasant memory of Ramona Zimmer breaking the original one.
“Excuse me a minute.” I walked into Curio Finds carrying the snow globe and my wineglass. The light was on in the bathroom, but for once I didn’t care. I held up my glass and whispered, “I’m sorry if I was ever unkind to you, Molly. We’ll miss you.” As I took a sip, the bathroom light went off. I took one last drink, shut the bathroom door, set my new snow globe on the checkout counter, and rejoined my family and friends in Brew Ha-Ha.
QUICK AND EASY SNOW GLOBES
SUPPLIES
A clean jar: baby food, jelly, pint, or any size
Waterproof glue
Distilled water
Glycerin, for thickening
Glitter
Small figures, depending on your scene: animals, characters, vehicles, toys, trees, etc.
Pick the jar size to fit your scene. Using waterproof glue, such as Gorilla, attach your figure to the inside of the dry jar lid. Fill the jar with distilled water to the neck of the jar. Add 1-2 tablespoons of glycerin. A larger jar will require more. The more glycerin you add, the thicker the water will get, and the slower the glitter will settle. But too much may cause the glitter to float. Add the amount of glitter to your liking. Larger pieces of glitter will have a different effect than very fine glitter. Attach the lid to the jar. Add or pour off water as needed. If you use a baby food or other jar without a tight seal, put a bead of glue around the edge of the lid before attaching. Then screw on the lid, give your globe a shake, and enjoy.
The Iced Princess Page 25
