Assisted Murder (A Moose River Mystery Book 6)

by Jeff Shelby

  “I'm sorry to hear that,” I told her. “I really am.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She took a deep breath. “I need to let you get inside and I should be heading out. I'm sorry to have caused you any trouble.”

  “It's okay,” I told her. “Things happen.”

  She glanced back at the house, a frown settling on her face. “Yes. Yes, they do.”

  TWENTY FOUR

  “She was actually very nice,” I said.

  Jake had come out moments after Vivian drove off and told me we were heading home. Gloria was cooling off with the band.

  I hoped that wasn't some sort of euphemism for her doing something with Oscar.

  “Was she?” he said, as we walked. “Well, Gloria was pretty hot when we got inside.”

  “Hot how?”

  “Like I had to stay between her and the door because I was afraid she was going to charge back outside,” he said, shaking his head. “She is not fond of that Vivian woman.”

  “I think the feeling is mutual,” I told him. “And based on what she told me, I understand why.”

  He eyed me. “What exactly did she tell you?”

  I recounted her story. He winced when I got to the part about Gloria and Oscar in the van.

  “Dear god,” he said, a look of horror on his face. “Just how much sex are these people having?”

  “Apparently, a lot,” I told him. “And with a lot of people.”

  Jake wrinkled his nose. “Do you believe her?”

  I shrugged. “As much as I believe anyone wearing a wig and who I've witnessed in two separate brawls. She seemed sincere.”

  He chuckled and found my hand. Even though it was hot and humid and his hand was warm against mine, it still felt good. Solid. Comforting.

  “But I'm just gonna throw this out there,” I said.

  “Uh-oh. What?”

  I glanced up at him. His dark hair was a little mussed, and a fine line of stubble dotted his cheeks and chin. “What if your aunt did do it? What if she killed Agnes?”

  “Are you serious?” It was a sincere question, not a statement of indignation.

  “Here's my thinking,” I explained. “We don't know her very well, even by your own admission.”

  He didn’t say anything, just listened.

  “But what we've learned about her since we got here has been, at best, questionable. I mean, she's been great to us. Totally great. But she has a horrible temper.”

  “It runs in the family,” he pointed out with a wry smile.

  “Sure, but you don’t go running around jumping anyone who says a cross word to you. From what Vivian said, she definitely has legitimate reasons to be upset with your aunt. If it’s all true, I mean. And I got the feeling that Esther wasn't too pleased with her, either.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I don't know. Just the way Esther kept telling us to double-check things. Like Gloria was a flake or something.”

  “Being a flake is a lot different than being a killer.”

  “Agreed. All I'm saying is that Gloria doesn't seem to be all roses.” I squeezed his hand. “And the woman's body was found in her kitchen.”

  He sighed and made a grunting noise. “I guess. Well, look, I don't know. It's not like I'm gonna ask her if she did it. I mean, she's family. I feel like I have to give her the benefit of the doubt. I'm not saying she's a saint, but I think it's a reach to call her a murderer.” He glanced at me. “But if she is? Then she is and there's nothing we can do about it.”

  We turned into the cul-de-sac, the humidity finally having dissipated with the sun. The streetlights hummed and giant bugs buzzed in and out of the white luminescence.

  “What did Gloria say about Vivian?” I asked. “When you took her in the house?”

  “That she was out to get her,” Jake said. “That Vivian was jealous because she was the lead singer in the band and that she had friends. That all she had done for the last few months was show up at their shows and cause trouble.”

  I sighed. “Which is basically what Vivian accused her of.”

  “Basically, yeah,” he said. “She was just sort of ranting and raving. Oscar went and got her an iced tea and that finally chilled her out.”

  “Oscar probably had an ulterior motive,” I said.

  He laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Irv and Oscar,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t even…”

  “Don’t,” he warned. “Just don’t think about it. That’s how I’ve been coping. Mental block.”

  “I’m trying. I really am.”

  He stopped in the driveway. “You think we'll still be having sex when we're ninety?”

  “You just told me not to think about it.”

  “No,” he said. “I told you not to think about them. Do you think we’ll still be having sex at their age? We’ll both be wrinkly and creaky and tired.”

  “We already are.”

  It was his turn to squeeze my hand. “Speak for yourself.”

  “You’re the one who’s already lobbying for Sleepy Pool Time.”

  “Sleepy Beachy Time,” he corrected. “And I’ve been lobbying for that since I was twenty.”

  “Hmm,” I murmured. “Well, maybe you’ll be getting Sleepy Bed Time tonight instead of something else.”

  “What?” He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “No. Wait. I’m not tired. At all.”

  I turned the handle on the door. It was locked. I knocked and called out, “It’s us. Open up.”

  I glanced at Jake, who was still staring at me hopefully. “Let’s get these kids to bed so you can show me just how not tired you really are.”

  He planted a swift kiss on my lips just as the door opened. “Deal,” he whispered.

  TWENTY FIVE

  “This is probably the least amusing amusement park ever,” Will said.

  The next morning, we'd gotten up early and decided on another park day. We'd chosen Animal Kingdom, much to Grace's chagrin once again. It was the one we were most leery about because it seemed like a big zoo, and we knew we weren't going to eat at all of the fabulous restaurants that people raved about in the park. So the park was going to have to stand on its own merits and, so far, it was a little underwhelming.

  The line to Everest inched forward.

  “Like two good rides,” he said. He was on his phone, looking at the app with the ride wait times. “That's about it. And they don't even have churros here. That's just dumb.”

  The line inched forward again. It was, by far, the longest line we'd seen in three days at the parks and the fact that the park was not meeting expectations was making it seem even longer. We'd done the safari, which hadn't excited anyone except Sophie. We'd ridden the Dinosaur ride, which perked everyone up. Then we'd stood in line for a show that ended up being canceled at the last moment. We were hoping Expedition Everest – the one true coaster in the park – would save the day.

  “It's super hot,” Emily said, pink-faced. She leaned against the line barrier, as if she were too weak to physically support herself.

  “So hot,” Grace said, hanging next to her. “It's probably not this hot at Disney World.”

  “We are at Disney World,” Will said.

  “Magic Kingdom,” she corrected. “The one with the castle and all the cool rides.”

  “I like it here,” Sophie announced. She had a park map in her hand and was studying it intently. “The tree out front was cool, and we got to see Rafiki.”

  Emily shuddered. “I hate that monkey. He’s like the creepiest Disney character ever invented.”

  “No, Ursula is,” Grace argued. “She has the worst make-up. And she’s mean!”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Because she’s a villain. Don’t you know anything?” He hit a button on his phone and groaned. “Great, the wait time just increased. We’re now at twenty minutes.”

  A chorus of groans followed.

  “You know, we could just go home,” Jake suggested.

&nb
sp; “To the house?” Emily perked up. “I’d be cool with that. I totally need to work on my tan.”

  Jake shook his head. “No, to Minnesota.”

  A chorus of no's rained down on him.

  He smiled. “That's what I thought.”

  I nudged Emily, who was staring intently at her phone. She hadn’t reacted in any way to his announcement. “What are you doing?”

  She held up her index finger. “Hold on.”

  “Probably texting Andy,” Will offered. “Probably to tell him we just took two steps.”

  She didn't even acknowledge his barb, so I knew she was heavily involved in whatever she was doing.

  “Maybe we really should head back early,” Jake whispered in my ear. “If they aren't into this place, we can just go back and swim.”

  “But we paid a fortune for tickets,” I reminded him. “An amount I don’t want to know.”

  Jake tugged on the hem of his shirt in an apparent attempt to provide some relief for himself from the heat. “It’s fine. We were able to use some deal available through work. It saved us a little money.”

  “How much money?”

  “Enough that we can spend a half-day here and not feel like we’re losing out on anything.”

  I didn’t know if he was saying this just to appease me or because it was really true. “Let’s decide after this ride. There are still a few things to see here, right?”

  “One thing we definitely won’t see here are churros.” Will had been listening in, and was still bitter that his new favorite food wasn’t available.

  I glanced back at Emily. She was still glued to her phone, an expression of complete disgust on her face.

  “What are you doing?” I asked again.

  She didn’t answer. “What is that creepy old guy's last name?” she asked instead. “The one Will thinks killed the other old lady?”

  I frowned. “Finkleman,” I said. “I think. Why?”

  She held up the finger again and went back to scrolling and I swallowed an irritated sigh.

  “This is totally gross,” Emily whispered. “Totally. Gross.”

  “What is?” I asked.

  She finally looked up. “Okay, you know how Facebook is all stalkerish? Like, it knows everything you do and will totally bring up suggestions for you about things that have nothing to do with Facebook? Like, it will literally bring up people and things you are just thinking about?”

  I thought she might be exaggerating a little bit, but I did know that the Facebook algorithms had a way of making you feel like you were being watched and listened to at all times. “I think I know what you mean, yes.”

  “Cookies,” Will said in a bored voice. “They use cookies to track you.”

  Grace looked around. “Who has cookies? I want a cookie!”

  “Well, that creepy old dude showed up in my people you might know,” Emily said, ignoring her sister.

  “Irv Finkleman?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. And I always look at the profiles of anyone who shows up in my People I Might Know because I want to know if I know them or if I should friend them or block them or whatever.”

  “Plus, you are just a full-on Facebook stalker and stick your nose in everyone's business,” Will said.

  She glared at her brother. “So that guy showed up in my friends and I clicked on his profile.” She glanced at the younger girls and lowered her voice to a whisper. “And it's terrible.”

  My pulse quickened. “What is?”

  “His profile. It's like all...” She swallowed, her cheeks tinging pink. “Sex and stuff.”

  Will laughed. “No way.” He stabbed at his phone, presumably closing the app he was looking at so he could see with his own eyes.

  She held the phone out to me. “Look.”

  I turned to Jake. He was looking at the park map with Sophie and Grace, trying to keep them occupied and out of the conversation.

  “If you don't, I will,” he said.

  I took the phone from Emily.

  The top of his profile looked normal. A small square photo of his face and the terrible comb-over he always sported. His cover photo was a beautiful shot of a sunrise at the beach.

  I scrolled down.

  I immediately started seeing pictures of scantily clad women. Pictures of women in bikinis and lingerie that he had shared from other sites. They were all at least forty years his junior, and while none were inappropriate – they were just modeling shots – it still felt weird seeing them on his page. I sort of took Irv to be a bit of a perv, especially considering his penchant for over-sharing about his sex life, but his public declaration of it was a little surprising.

  “Scroll down,” Emily said. “That's not even what I'm talking about.”

  “Oh my god!” Will said and burst out laughing. “This is awesome!”

  Jake leaned in and I scrolled further through the feed.

  And saw posts directly to his wall from Agnes Clutterbuck.

  They were dated from a couple months back. The posts actually weren't sent directly to him. She had just tagged his name in them, so they'd showed up on his page.

  And the posts were not kind.

  “If any of my lady friends out there are contacted by Irv Finkleman, run fast! He thinks he's a ladies’ man, but he's a child! With a child-size you-know-what!”

  “Irv Finkleman thinks he's some kind of gigolo. Hard to be a gigolo when you can't RISE TO THE OCCASION, if you know what I mean!”

  “Sex with Irv Finkleman is like using the self-check at the grocery store: very fast and no personal touch!”

  I stared in disbelief. There were at least ten more just like those.

  “The grocery one is funny,” Jake said, chuckling.

  “I know, right?” Will said.

  “Why didn't he delete those?” Emily asked, horrified. “You can delete those. Or hide them. Why didn't he do that?”

  “Probably because he doesn't know how,” Will said. “His entire profile is public. He probably has no clue. Old people should not use Facebook. I always say that to you, Mom.”

  “I am not old.”

  “Delete what?” Sophie asked, the park map now forgotten.

  Grace tried to grab for the phone in my hand. “Let me see!”

  I held it higher and herded them all forward as the line moved again.

  I handed the phone back to Emily. “Thank you for ruining my day.” I smiled at the girls. “Let’s play I Spy. Sophie, find something for us to guess.”

  This was enough to distract both younger girls, much to my relief.

  “Disgusting, right?” Emily said, tapping away at the screen again.

  It wasn't just disgusting. It was disturbing. And enlightening.

  I had to wonder what would compel Agnes to post those types of statuses and tag Irv in them. People too often failed to use discretion when they put stuff on social media out of anger, but her posts seemed really over the top. That type of behavior certainly seemed to confirm that Gloria was right about Agnes being a horrible person whom no one liked.

  But it also meant something else.

  “Those were terrible,” Jake whispered in my ear. “Unbelievable.”

  I nodded.

  “What?” he asked. “I can tell. You're thinking something.”

  The line surged again and we were almost to the entrance point for the coaster. “If I posted stuff like that about you, how would you feel?” I asked Jake.

  “You would never post things like that about me.” He grinned. “I'm amazing in bed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Focus. Let’s just pretend you aren't a legend in your own mind,” I said. “What if I had done that? How would you have reacted?”

  He didn’t wait a beat. “I would've deleted them. Immediately.”

  “I mean before you deleted. When you first read them.”

  “I’m ready,” Sophie said.

  I stared at her blankly.

  “For I Spy.”

  I nodded. “Oh, rig
ht. Hang on a second, sweetie.” I glanced back at Jake.

  He was still thinking. “I would have been embarrassed,” he finally said. “And then really, really pissed.”

  I nodded. “Exactly. Super pissed.”

  He was quiet.

  “I don't know what happened between them,” I explained. “But we have some of the details. They were intimate. They had a bad break-up, according to both Gloria and Irv, a break-up that was so bad that Agnes apparently threw a hammer at his head. And then she posted this kind of stuff publicly, for everyone to see. When he read those, he had to have been furious with her. Like, unbelievably mad.”

  He blinked and then nodded. “Yeah. Crazy mad.”

  I raised my eyebrows and lowered my voice. “Maybe even mad enough to kill her.”

  He thought for a moment, then made a face like he wasn't sure he believed that. “I don't know. It seems like a lot to go from being angry about something someone said about you to actually killing her.”

  Sophie was waiting for me to start. “I spy something red,” she said.

  I looked around, seeing several things, but I didn’t make a guess yet. My mind was still on Irv and Agnes.

  I knew what Jake was saying. It was a long way to go from being mad at someone to killing them. But up until that point, we hadn't really seen anyone other than Gloria who might've had reason to hurt Agnes.

  Looking at those posts on Irv Finkleman's wall and connecting the dots I knew about made me think about things a little differently.

  Because I was pretty sure that we finally had another suspect.

  TWENTY SIX

  We left the park shortly after riding Everest, which everyone agreed was the best part of Animal Kingdom, and headed back to the house. All four kids headed outside, the younger three to swim and Emily to sit poolside, and Jake disappeared for a little bit to attend to some work emails before joining them in the water. I swam for a little bit before getting out to make dinner. The kids had lobbied for pizza again, but I had groceries to use so opted to make burgers instead.

  “Can we swim again?” Grace asked. She’d polished off her burger and was mopping up the ketchup on her plate with a few last fries.