by Joyce Tremel
“It’s possible.” Candy looked over at her helper. “Think you can handle the store while I go get a cup of coffee?”
The girl told her she’d be fine, so we walked across the street to Jump, Jive & Java. We were greeted by the soothing voice of Frank Sinatra singing “I’ll Never Smile Again.”
Candy sighed. “That voice just makes me want to swoon.”
Kristie was at the counter. “Don’t you dare do that. My insurance rates are high enough.” She grinned. “The usual?”
“Extra whipped cream on mine,” I said.
“Late night with Jake?” Kristie asked. “Now, that man is definitely swoon-worthy.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I mean he definitely is, but I was with Jake and his parents. His mom made dinner.”
The coffee shop wasn’t busy, so after she prepared our drinks, Kristie joined us at our usual table under the movie poster of Casablanca. I brought her up to speed on what Candy and I had already discussed.
Kristie shook her head. “I kind of feel sorry for her. If she didn’t kill her husband, that is.”
I filled them in on some other things that I hadn’t talked to either of them about up until now, like Melody’s casino photos, and Cory’s and Randy’s brewpub license issues.
“If it’s true that Mobley had a hand in that somehow, he was even more of a creep than I thought,” Candy said.
“But is that enough motive for someone to kill him?” I asked. “I don’t think Cory did, but I’m not so sure about Randy. But with the way Melody and Dwayne acted yesterday, I’m leaning toward one—or both—of them. There’s definitely something going on there.”
Candy tapped her black-and-gold-polished fingernails on the table. “We need to get Melody alone somehow and talk to her.”
“Do you think she’ll be at the festival today?” Kristie asked.
“I don’t know. Dwayne might try to keep her away.”
“Kristie and I are both planning on coming down later,” Candy said. “We can keep an eye out for her. If she doesn’t show, we’ll think of another way.”
I brought up what Jake’s dad had told us last night. Candy and Kristie didn’t seem to think it was as far-fetched as Jake and I had. Candy offered to do a little research on Ronald Moore and his restaurant, Le Meilleur. If anyone could get the scoop, she could.
* * *
Just when I thought Vincent Falk was going to leave us alone, he proved me wrong. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of the brew house when Candy and I left the coffee shop.
“Is that who I think it is?” Candy asked.
“The one and only. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh, goody,” she said. “I can’t wait.” She sounded like she meant it.
We jaywalked across the street like any good Pittsburgher would do. I highly doubted Vince would lower himself to actually write a ticket. Besides, if cops in the city gave out citations for jaywalking, they’d never get anything else done. No one used crosswalks if it meant walking another ten feet. It was a hard habit to break.
I plastered a pleasant smile on my face. “Good morning, Detective.”
He gave the briefest of nods. “Miss O’Hara.”
Candy launched herself forward and grabbed his right hand. “Oh, another friend of our darling Max! How thrilling!” She pulled him into a hug. “Isn’t she the best?”
Poor Vince didn’t know what to do and I had a hard time keeping a straight face.
“Um, yeah,” he managed to mutter while attempting to extricate himself from Candy’s grasp.
She finally took pity on him, released him from the hug, but kept her hand on his arm. “You must be that nice detective that Max told me so much about. She just goes on and on about how diligent and thorough you are.” She squeezed his arm. “That killer doesn’t stand a chance with you on the case.”
I coughed to disguise the chortle that threatened to escape.
Vince’s face had turned as red as his tie. He worked his mouth, but nothing came out. I was sure he’d never run into anyone like Candy before. I decided I’d better rescue him before she had him cowering in a corner.
“What can I do for you, Detective?” I asked as I unlocked the door to the pub. Vince, with Candy still attached to his arm, followed me inside and I deactivated the alarm.
He regained his composure. At least as much as he could with Candy beside him. “I need to speak to you.”
“Have a seat.” I pointed to the nearest table. I didn’t offer to make coffee this time. I’d already had mine and if he hadn’t, he could go across the street.
The three of us pulled out chairs and Vince looked at Candy. “In private,” he said.
Candy waved a hand and plunked herself down in a chair. “Don’t pay any attention to me. Pretend I’m not even here.”
His gaze moved to me and I shrugged. “It’s best to indulge her,” I said. “She has a way of finding out everything that goes on anyway.” I took the seat across the table from Vince and made proper introductions. I could tell he wasn’t happy that he didn’t get his way. Candy, however, was loving every minute of this.
“You planned it this way, didn’t you?” he said.
“Planned what?”
“Having your friend here so we can’t talk in private.”
“You’re the one who came to see me, not the other way around,” I said. “I can’t help it if I’m with a friend when you show up unannounced. Maybe the next time you should call first.”
I was pretty sure he didn’t believe that I hadn’t planned anything of the sort, but he didn’t pursue it. “I came to tell you that we tested all your water bottles and none of them showed any trace of poison.”
I could have told him that. “It’s too bad you wasted your time with that instead of going after the real killer.”
Candy butted in. “It wasn’t a waste. The good detective was just using the process of elimination. Now he knows for sure that you and Jake had nothing to do with the murder.”
“I know nothing of the kind,” Vince sputtered.
He should have stopped with nothing.
“Just because those bottles were clean doesn’t mean you didn’t slip the victim a poisoned one.” He glared at me. “And I want you to keep away from Mobley’s widow. I received a voice mail that you were harassing her yesterday.”
“What? Who told you that?”
“He didn’t leave his name.”
Figures. “I didn’t harass her. For the record, she came looking for me. If you want to talk harassment, maybe you should talk to her brother. He really gave her a hard time when he found out she was talking to me.”
“What do you mean by that?” Vince said. “Melody Mobley doesn’t have a brother.”
It was so hard not to smile or gloat. Or both. It was obvious he hadn’t read any of my dad’s reports. But why read when you already think you know everything? “Of course she does.”
Vince sat up straighter in his chair. “If she had a brother, I would certainly know about it. I’ve talked to her extensively.”
“Did you ever ask her what her maiden name was during any of your conversations?”
“No, I didn’t. I asked questions that were pertinent to the investigation.”
More than anything, I wanted to tell him that Dwayne was her brother, but I stopped myself. He’d only deny it and tell me I was making it all up. I’d let him figure it out for himself. “Interesting,” I said. “You may want to ask her about it the next time.”
He scowled at me. “Don’t tell me what to do. I know my job. You’re trying to throw me off track here by bringing up something that has nothing to do with the investigation.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I came to tell you to leave the widow alone. If I find out you so much as sneeze in her direction, I’ll cite you for harassment. Y
ou and your boyfriend aren’t off the hook yet. Not by a long shot.”
“Charming,” Candy said drily after he was gone.
“Isn’t he?” I finally let loose the smile I’d been holding back. “Your performance was award-worthy. The look on his face when you hugged him was priceless. Well worth all the aggravation he’s caused me.”
Candy pushed herself up from the table. “Maybe he’ll call first the next time.” She gave me an evil grin. “And if he does, be sure to let me know. The poor boy may need another hug.”
I laughed. “You can count on it.”
* * *
I’m sorry I missed it,” Jake said when I told him about it later. We were setting up at the festival once again. “The first time I met Candy is etched in my memory. It’s not something you forget easily.”
“
When I’d introduced her to Jake, I thought she was going to faint. She didn’t hold it against him that he’d played hockey for the New York Rangers and not the Penguins. He was still a hometown boy and that’s all that mattered. Although I’m sure she would have been even more ecstatic if he’d worn the black and gold. “Hopefully Vince won’t forget it, either,” I said.
We were pros at setting up by now, although it helped that we’d left the tent and table here overnight. Everything was still a little damp, but it was bright and sunny, so it wouldn’t be long before it was all dry. It was ten thirty and the gates—rope in this case—were to open at eleven. There was already a long line of people waiting to get in, which meant a busy day. Mike planned to come at four with a few more kegs and relieve us so we could get some dinner. Jake and I would spell each other during the afternoon if needed.
Despite the warning from Vince Falk to leave Melody alone, I hoped she would be here today. I was sure that Dwayne was the one who’d told him I’d been harassing her. He didn’t want her talking to me and that made me more curious than ever.
Dwayne showed up at only ten minutes to eleven, and he was alone. I wasn’t going to let that deter me. “I think I’m going to see if Dwayne needs any help,” I said.
“Aren’t you supposed to leave him alone?” Jake asked.
“Not Dwayne. His sister. Besides, when have I ever let anything like that stop me?”
Jake laughed and shook his head. “I’m not bailing you out if you get arrested.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“But only because I think you’d look really cute in those red scrubs they’d make you wear in the county jail.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said. “Remind me again why I like you.”
“I’ll make a list.”
I rolled my eyes and headed for Dwayne’s booth.
He was bending over tapping a keg when I reached him. He straightened. “What do you want?”
“I thought you might need some help.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need any help.” He went back to the keg.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” He rolled the keg aside. “Why are you really here?”
“I wanted to see if your sister was okay. I don’t think she was feeling all that well yesterday.”
Dwayne crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s really none of your business. And for the record, there’s nothing wrong with her.”
“She didn’t seem like herself to me.” I didn’t want to come right out and say she was as drunk as a skunk. He had to know that. “She was a little confused.”
“I told you there was nothing wrong with her. She just had a little too much to drink.” He rolled another keg into place.
It was more than a little too much. “Is that why you were so mad at her?” I asked.
“I wasn’t mad,” he answered. “I was upset she was so unreliable.”
“Because she left your booth unattended?”
He stopped what he was doing. “Well, wouldn’t you be? I gave her a simple task and she couldn’t even do that right.”
“Maybe you should cut her some slack. She did just lose her husband. She probably has other things on her mind.”
“That’s beside the point.”
I didn’t think it was possible to dislike him any more than I already did. “No, Dwayne. That’s exactly the point.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Go away and leave us alone.”
“Dwayne—”
“Go away!”
I took the hint.
“I take it he didn’t want any help,” Jake said when I got back.
I shook my head. “Not only that, he just about bit my head off when I asked about Melody.”
“That shouldn’t surprise you.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t. Not really.”
Jake put an arm around me and pulled me close. “You can’t fix everyone’s problems, Max.”
I leaned into him. “I know.” I would have liked to stay in his arms for the rest of the day, but the first group of festivalgoers descended upon us. We spent the next couple of hours serving and discussing our selections with craft beer enthusiasts. There was a lull around two o’clock. Jake took a short break and as soon as he returned, I took mine.
Dwayne was alone and he ignored me when I waved to him. Dave, on the other hand, hollered a hello when I passed, and his wife and son, who were helping him out, waved enthusiastically. I continued down the aisle and spotted Phoebe Atwell sitting on a bench concentrating on her phone screen.
“Hi, Phoebe,” I said. “All by yourself today? Where are your cohorts?”
She looked up from her phone. “Oh, they’re probably around somewhere. Looks like it’s going to be a busy day.”
“It’s been that way so far.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m looking forward to the burger competition final tomorrow.”
A flash of turquoise and blond hair caught my eye, so I quickly told Phoebe good-bye and hurried to catch Melody. She was headed in the opposite direction of Dwayne’s booth and I suspected he didn’t know she was here. Once again I wondered why she had wanted to talk to me yesterday. And why Dwayne had been so angry at her. Well, I was going to find out.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Melody!” I called. I half expected her to run away, but she stopped and turned around just outside the large tent that had been set up as the prep area for the burger competition. The tent was empty today except for a few festivalgoers who were taking advantage of the shade it provided.
“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she said. She was dressed better than she’d been yesterday, wearing modest white Bermuda shorts and a turquoise tank top. Her hair and makeup were perfect. If she was hungover, it didn’t show.
“Then why are you?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like being told what to do.”
I noticed a makeshift bench fashioned out of two-by-fours on top of cinder blocks and suggested we sit.
Melody inspected the bench and brushed off an invisible something or other before she took a seat. “What can I do for you?” she asked, sounding as formal as if she were interviewing me for a job.
“I appreciate you talking to me,” I said.
“I really shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Who told you not to?”
She stared at her white sandals.
“Was it your brother?” Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t have to answer the question. That was all the confirmation I needed. “Why doesn’t Dwayne want you to talk to me?”
She sighed. “I’m so tired. Tired of the charade. Tired of all the lies.”
Was she about to confess to killing her husband? “I’m a good listener,” I said. “If you don’t want to talk here, we can go somewhere else.” I’d have to let Jake know and call someone to cover for me, but I could work it out.
Melody sh
ook her head. “I don’t need to go anywhere. And I don’t care anymore if Dwayne sees me.” There was a flash of anger in her eyes. “He’s been trying to run my life for far too long. I wanted to see you yesterday, but it didn’t work out that way.”
I had to tread carefully here. “Because you’d been drinking?”
“Partly.” She blushed again. “I thought I’d only had two drinks, but I guess it was more than that. They hit me all of a sudden. I never had that happen before. And then Dwayne dragged me away. I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s all right.” There was no way she’d had only two drinks. Even if she’d downed them all at once, she wouldn’t have been falling-down drunk and not have remembered why she wanted to see me. A terrible thought came to me. What if there was more than alcohol in her drinks? There were drugs that would enhance the effects of alcohol. If Dwayne had dropped something in Melody’s drink to keep her from talking to me, he was more despicable than I’d ever imagined.
“It’s such a relief to get to talk about this,” she said.
I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “You really haven’t told me anything yet.”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“Why don’t you begin with how you met your husband?”
“I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I did care for Reggie.”
She was right. It was definitely hard to believe.
“I met him at the North Shore Casino a little over a year ago. I was a hostess there at the time. A lot of the tips I got were in the form of chips, so I played some of the games once in a while.”
That explained the photos she had posted online.
“Anyway, Reggie was a regular at the blackjack table.” She smiled. “He could be quite the charmer when he put his mind to it.”
His ex-wife Linda had said the same thing. It was probably better that I didn’t mention that to Melody—especially after the incident at the funeral home.
