by V. M. Burns
“You mean, if they didn’t want their records exposed,” Dorothy said.
“Nowadays, employers run background checks on everyone.” Ruby Mae pulled her knitting out of her bag. “I know my daughter, Stephanie, has such a hard time with her cleaning company. You know, if you’re going to give people access to your home, you can’t be too careful.”
“That’s all I’ve got.” Nana Jo looked up. “Who wants to go next?”
Ruby Mae raised her hand. “I’ll go.” She put down her knitting. “My grandson Andrew talked to Maxwell Dubois. He couldn’t have killed Lydia Lighthouse.” She picked up her knitting. “Maxwell Dubois has an iron-tight alibi.”
“How iron tight?” I asked.
“He was in jail.” She knitted. “He claims he had a drug problem a few years ago but got cleaned up.”
“Probably when he was in jail the second time.” Dorothy looked from Ruby Mae to Nana Jo.
Ruby Mae shrugged. “I guess so. Anyway, he claims he was clean and minding his own business and then Lydia came demanding he basically do the ice sculpture for practically nothing or she would blackball him and make sure he never worked again.”
“How?” I asked.
“A lot of people don’t like hiring ex-cons,” Ruby Mae said.
“That seems to have been her modus operandi.” Nana Jo typed.
“I don’t know what that means, but if you mean that’s how she rolled, then you’d be right,” Ruby Mae said. “So, he got scared and fell off the wagon.”
“So, he got high?” Irma asked.
Ruby Mae nodded. “He got lit up. Went walking around River Bend butt naked.”
“If he was high, maybe he killed her in a drug-induced fit,” Dorothy said.
Ruby Mae shook her head. “Naw, I asked the same thing. He was picked up early Sunday night and spent the night in jail.” She finished the row she was knitting and updated the row counter on the end of her needle. “Apparently, his wife threatened to leave him if he didn’t get help, so he went to a clinic in Chicago. That’s why no one knew where he was.”
“I’m glad he got help. I guess we’re crossing him off the list of suspects?” Nana Jo looked around.
We all nodded.
“Okay, nice work, Ruby Mae. Now, who’s next?”
Dorothy raised her hand. “I may as well go. I went to Felicity Abrams’s florist shop, and it was closed. She has a note on the window that she’s going to be out of town due to a death in the family.” Dorothy frowned and slumped in her seat.
“It might not be true,” Nana Jo said encouragingly.
Dorothy shook her head. “It’s true. My sister had her number and called to ask if there was anything she could do.” Dorothy sighed. “Felicity’s cousin died and she went to Detroit for the funeral.”
“She left after Lydia was killed, so she could still be a suspect.” I tried to encourage her.
Dorothy shook her head. “Unfortunately, she was in her shop the entire night Lydia Lighthouse died. She already had a wedding and a Christmas party booked. She tried to back out of your mom’s wedding, but Lydia wouldn’t hear of it.”
“But that makes her even more of a suspect. Maybe she killed Lydia so she could get out of doing Grace and Harold’s wedding.” Dorothy turned to Nana Jo and me. “Sorry.”
I shrugged. “No apologies necessary.”
“I can’t imagine she would kill to avoid providing flowers for a wedding. However, I did talk to her assistant, Ian, and he swears they never left the shop.” Dorothy drank her coffee.
“If she has an assistant, why did she have to close her shop?” I asked.
“He’s a student at MISU and only works part-time,” Dorothy said.
“Great job, Dorothy.” Nana Jo looked encouragingly at her friend. “Thanks to you, we can eliminate Felicity as a suspect.”
We halted our conversation while our waitress came and took our orders.
“I’ll go next.” Irma coughed. “I had a date with Marty and—”
“Who the heck is Marty?”
Irma grinned. “Just a guy I met when we were at the casino last.”
Nana Jo shook her head. “I don’t know how you keep them all straight.”
“It’s a gift.” She smiled. “Anyway, Marty and I went to the Four Feathers.” She leaned close and whispered, “He’s a whale.” She nodded. “He gets free food and drinks. He even gets to stay for free in the penthouse suite.” She sat up straight and proud. “It’s huge and there’s even a butler and chef who prepares all of the food,” she gloated.
“Sounds like a cheap date if he took you to the casino where he gets everything for free.” Nana Jo rolled her eyes.
I kicked her under the table. “That sounds really nice.”
Nana Jo rolled her eyes. “That’s great. Now, what did you find out from Marty that is relevant to Lydia Lighthouse’s murder?”
“Well, I didn’t find anything out from Marty. Not anything I can share anyway.” She smiled coyly. “But, Marty likes to gamble in the high-stakes room. So, I was in there sitting beside him.” She leaned close and fluttered her eyelashes. “He says I bring him luck.”
“If you don’t get on with it, so help me God, I’ll—”
I kicked her again.
She glared at me. “And if you don’t stop kicking me, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your bottom.”
Unfortunately, Frank chose just that moment to stop by the table. He heard Nana Jo’s comment and immediately turned around and walked away.
“Smart man.” Nana Jo turned to Irma. “Now, get on with it.”
Irma straightened her back and held her head high. “When we went in the high-stakes room, Oscar Robertson was there. So, I asked one of the servers about him. He said Oscar has been at the casino practically every night and he’s been losing a lot. I specifically asked about the night Lydia Lighthouse was murdered, and he checked the tab and he was definitely at the casino all night.”
“Looks like Harold’s brother might have a problem,” Nana Jo said. “I don’t think any of us ever seriously considered him a suspect, but it’ll be good to wipe him off the list.”
Frank whispered in my ear. “Can I see you a minute please?”
“Excuse me.” I got up and followed him to the back.
When he turned to face me, he looked so serious, I got worried. “What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath. “I had a friend track Lydia Lighthouse’s bank deposits and Margaret’s withdrawals.” He unfolded a sheet of paper and handed it to me. “Whenever Margaret withdrew large amounts of money, Lydia made large deposits within a day of the exact amount of Margaret’s withdrawal.”
“That proves she was paying Lydia blackmail. She must be the killer.”
He held up both hands. “Hold on. It might prove Margaret was paying blackmail, but it doesn’t prove she’s a murderer.”
“You’re right. I can’t jump to conclusions.” I smiled. “Anything else?”
He nodded. “My friend said the deposits go back for years.”
“Thank you.” I folded the paper and smiled, but the smile froze on my face at the look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed. “I had another friend do some checking on Lexi and Angelo. I thought it was odd that she speaks Italian so well.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why? You speak Italian.”
“I speak a lot of languages.” He took a deep breath. “Their father was Enrico Gelano, a physicist, and their mother, Maria Gelano, was a chemist. They died in a car accident.”
“I know that. Lexi told me.”
“What she may not have known was that her parents were only here on temporary visas to work with scientists at Cornell. Her family in Italy was expecting them to return to Italy.”
I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. “Family?”
He nodded. “Grandparents and cousins.”
“Why didn’t they ever try to find them?”
He gra
bbed my shoulders. “Apparently, they have been looking for them. They’ve been working with the embassy. The big problem was they thought they were in New York. No one knew they were in Chicago.”
“Why didn’t Lexi remember about her family? Angelo would have been too young to remember, but she should have remembered grandparents and other relatives.”
He shook his head. “My friend thought it could have been trauma from the accident, but, whatever the reason, they’ll have to be told. They’ve been going crazy hoping for word of some kind.” He looked intently into my eyes. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“I know you’ve gotten attached.”
I nodded. “I’ll be okay. I knew I couldn’t keep them forever, but I didn’t know you’d find their family so quickly.”
He pulled me close and hugged me.
I buried my head in his chest and cried. After a while, I forced myself to stop and pushed away from him.
He handed me a tissue.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s a good thing, right? They don’t have to go back to the Hoopers. They’ll be with their family.”
“It is a good thing.”
I sniffed and forced a smile. “Thank you for finding their family.”
He hugged me again and then walked away.
I took a moment to collect myself before heading back to the table. Our waitress had brought our food and I tried to hide the fact I’d been crying by diving into my food, even though eating was the last thing on my mind. I should have known better than to think I could hide anything from my hawk-eyed grandmother.
“Sam, are you okay?” Nana Jo asked.
“I’m fine.” I hurriedly took a bite of my BLT minus the T.
Irma pulled off her six-inch hooker-heel shoe and held it up. “If he hurt you, we can kick his a—”
“Irma!”
She burst into a coughing fit, took a look around, and then pulled a flask from her purse and took a swig. “Sorry.”
It took me a few seconds before it dawned on me they blamed Frank for my red puffy eyes and general distress. “Oh, no. He’s fine. He just told me some news . . . it’s good news, really.”
“Well, if this is how you react to good news, I don’t want to see how you look after bad news.” Nana Jo glared. “Now, either you tell me what’s wrong or I’m going to take my peacemaker out and turn him from a tenor to a soprano.”
“It’s not Frank’s fault. Honestly, he just found Lexi and Angelo’s family, and it made me sad to think about them leaving.”
“I thought their parents are dead,” Nana Jo said.
“They are, but they have grandparents and cousins and other family who love them and care about them. They’ve been looking for them and working with the embassy.”
“If they were working with the government, that’s probably what took so long,” Ruby Mae said. “Red tape.”
Everyone nodded.
Nana Jo patted my hand. “I understand now.” She took a napkin and wiped her eyes. “I’ve gotten attached to them too.”
Frank came by the table. “Is everything okay?” He looked worried.
Nana Jo stood and gave him a hug.
He looked surprised but accepted the situation. I didn’t have the heart to tell him how close he came to disaster just a few seconds earlier.
I shared the details about Margaret’s bank withdrawals coinciding with Lydia’s deposits.
“Well, that explains why she recommended Lydia for the wedding,” Nana Jo said.
“Who’s left?” Ruby Mae asked.
Nana Jo made a few swipes on her iPad. “Margaret, Rudy Blakemore, and April.”
“Are you seriously considering April as a suspect?” Dorothy asked. “She seems like such a . . .”
“A mouse?” Nana Jo asked.
Dorothy nodded.
“I hadn’t really considered her. She seems so meek and . . . mousy, but maybe she didn’t like how Lydia treated her like a drudge.”
“Or maybe she didn’t like the way Lydia hit on her boyfriend,” Nana Jo said. “I’d have drop-kicked anyone who did that to Freddie.”
“What do you mean?”
Nana Jo looked up from her iPad. “Surely you saw how Lydia was flirting with Rudy and how she kept brushing up against him and stroking his arm.”
Frank had once again chosen the wrong time to bring a fresh pitcher of water to our table. As he straightened up, Nana Jo proceeded to stroke his arm and leaned against his body.
I didn’t think anything could make Frank Patterson blush, but Nana Jo managed to do the impossible.
He looked like a frightened rabbit. “What’s going on?”
I burst out laughing, but Nana Jo wasn’t done. As he turned to leave, she swatted his butt like a football player after a big play.
Frank stopped, turned, and faced Nana Jo. “The least you could have done was buy me lunch first.”
We laughed, along with the other waitstaff and some of the patrons.
When the laughter died down, we planned our next meeting.
I stopped at the bar to say goodbye before I left.
“I don’t know what was going on, but tell me your grandmother wasn’t really hitting on me,” Frank said.
I laughed. “She was demonstrating an important point in our investigation.
He nodded. “I was just checking.”
On the short walk back to the bookstore, Nana Jo and I agreed to delay telling Lexi and Angelo about their family for a bit until Frank was absolutely positive about the details. I’d hate to raise their hopes and have it turn into nothing. His friend was going to contact the appropriate embassies. It might take time to get passports and arrange passage. I wanted to ask if they could stay until after the holidays, but I didn’t want to be selfish. After all, the family had been looking for them and must be out of their minds. Instead, I hoped that bureaucratic red tape would buy me the extra time.
I worked in the store during the afternoon to give my mind something else to focus on. Thinking about Lexi and Angelo made me sad. Mentally, I knew they would have to leave someday, but I felt sad realizing how very close that day was.
When the store closed, I went upstairs. Emma, Jillian, Dawson, and Zaq took Lexi and Angelo ice skating. Which meant I had a quiet house all to myself. I walked around for several moments, trying to remember what things were like before there were crayons and books laying all over the place. Snickers and Oreo were also getting a lot more attention as one of Angelo’s favorite activities was chasing them around the back courtyard in the snow. I looked at my two poodles, who were lying in their dog beds fast asleep. I was at a loss for how to occupy my time and decided a trip to the British countryside might help me collect my thoughts.
Victor entered the library, where Percy Waddington was walking around admiring the art.
Percy turned when the door closed. “Oh, Victor. You startled me.”
“Sorry. Admiring the art?”
Percy laughed. “Force of habit.”
The men sat down and smoked in silence for several moments.
“How’s your arm?”
Percy Waddington held up his bandaged arm and flexed it several times. “Seems to be healing well.” He smiled. “But, I won’t be taking the court at Wimbledon anytime soon.”
Victor smiled at the joke. “I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Certainly.” Percy looked at Victor.
“How well did you know Philippe Claiborne?”
Percy smoked. “Not very well. We’d met at a few house parties, but certainly not well enough to want to stick a knife in his back and strangle him.” He chuckled. “However, I do have a bit of a confession.”
“A confession?”
Percy chuckled. “Don’t look so frightened. I knew it was bound to come out sooner or later. It’s just that, well, things haven’t been going so well at the shop.” He leaned forward. “In fact, things have been rather dire, actually.”
“I�
��m very sorry to hear it.”
“I wasn’t exactly invited, you see. I ran into Major Davies and learned about the wedding and thought I’d just . . . well, you know, slip in with the others and bunk here for a bit while I get back on my feet.”
“I see.” Victor looked relieved. “I don’t suppose anyone will care. What’s one more person.”
“Thanks.” Percy smiled, and the two men smoked in silence.
Lord William and Major Davies sat in the library and enjoyed a glass of whiskey.
“Glad you could make it, old chap. Been a long time.” Lord William raised his glass to his friend and took a sip.
“Ah, yes. Certainly.” The major tossed back the drink quickly.
Lord William quickly refilled the major’s glass. “Haven’t seen you around the club.” He stared at the major to gage his reaction.
“Darned shame that.” Major Davies was a large man, who had once been muscular and attractive to the ladies. Now the muscles had gone to fat. His hair, once thick and curly, was wispy and patchy.
Lord William refilled the major’s glass and replaced the top on the decanter.
“Had to drop out. Darned embarrassing that.” He glanced at the decanter on the sideboard and sighed. He sipped rather than gulped his drink.
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” Heat rose to Lord William’s face. Personal questions were always difficult for the kindly duke, but Daphne’s happiness was at stake, so he did his duty.
Major Davies paused and stared at the amber liquid in his glass for a long time before he spoke. “Bad financial investments. I met that cocky event-planning fellow, Claiborne, when my goddaughter got married several years ago. Seemed a good enough chap. Always at the right parties, invited to the best homes for weekends, you understand.”
He turned to glance at Lord William, whose neck heated again. Whether due to guilt for inviting Philippe Claiborne to his home and exposing him to friends or for guilt over delving into private matters, he rose and placed the decanter on the table close to his friend’s chair.
Major Davies smiled and gulped the remaining amber liquid from his glass. He then picked up the decanter and refilled his glass. He took a sip and sighed. “Well, he asked me to put in a word for him at the club and recommended some investments.” The major shook his head. “Diamond mines in South Africa.”
