Paint the Town Dead

by Sybil Johnson

  Chapter 15

  “Rory, wait!” Brandy’s frantic voice echoed down the hallway.

  Rory stopped and took a deep breath, then turned around and waited for her friend to catch up. “What was that? She’s not even buried yet.”

  “It wasn’t Peter’s fault. I can explain.”

  “How could you? You were friends.”

  “We didn’t plan it! It just happened. You have to believe me.” Brandy pleaded for understanding with her eyes.

  “Couldn’t you wait? Or was this,” Rory waved her hand in the air, “thing going on under Jasmine’s nose?”

  “We would never! I need you to believe me.”

  Rory looked down the hallway where Peter had suddenly appeared and was silently watching them, then returned her attention to the woman standing before her. “Do you have feelings for each other?”

  Brandy looked uncomfortable under Rory’s steady gaze. “Neither of us have acted on them until now. And we wouldn’t have if Jasmine hadn’t...you know...”

  Rory wondered if Jasmine suspected that her best friend and husband were having an affair. Maybe that was what she’d wanted to talk to Rory about after class. “Did she know how you both felt?”

  Brandy gazed at the floor, considering the question, then looked up again. “I’m not sure.” In a more defiant tone, she said, “Don’t be so high and mighty. The way you look at that detective, you must understand.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If you don’t want to admit you’re attracted to him, that’s up to you. But I bet you’d kiss him too, if the opportunity arose, even though he has a girlfriend. At least I’m honest with myself.”

  Rory’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she searched for something to say. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She hurried out of the school as fast as she could, ignoring Brandy’s repeated pleas for understanding.

  As Rory walked back to the hotel, she called Liz’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Unsure what to say, she hung up without leaving a message.

  When she entered the Akaw’s lobby a short time later, a whirlwind in leopard print flannel pajamas rushed toward her. Her feet encased in matching slippers with leopard heads, Liz skidded to a halt in front of Rory. “What’s wrong?”

  For a moment, Rory wondered why her friend was wearing pjs, then remembered Liz was helping out at the evening’s pajama painting party where everyone wore pjs and worked on unfinished projects. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “You called, but didn’t leave a message. You never do that,” Liz said. “How was the dance contest? Did you see Peter and Brandy? Did they win?”

  “Came in second, but that’s not the problem.” Rory tried, but she couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  Liz gestured toward two empty chairs. At this late hour, the bar was busy, but the lobby area was empty except for a man reading a newspaper far enough away that they were in no danger of his overhearing them.

  Rory sat down on one chair while Liz shed her slippers and hopped onto another, crossing both legs under her.

  “Something happened,” Liz said. “Spill the beans.”

  “I caught them...together.”

  “Peter and Brandy?” Liz leaned forward in her chair. “Do you think it’s been going on long? The affair?”

  “I’m not sure affair is the right word. Brandy said it was the first time, that the kiss just happened.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  Rory considered the question. “I want to,” she said softly.

  They sat in silence for a few moments, each mulling over the conversation. Finally, Liz said in an apologetic voice, “You don’t think...I mean I know she’s your friend, but...Could she have been responsible for…?”

  Rory cocked her head in thought. The Peter and Brandy she knew years ago would never have betrayed Jasmine by having an affair, let alone plotting to kill her. But Rory had been out of touch with them, only seeing her friends half a dozen times in the year since she moved to Vista Beach. They hadn’t even told her about Jasmine’s suicide attempt. “They both could have taken some of her medicine out of the bottle when she had it at home. No one would have noticed. But they would have had to administer the medicine, somehow, and that means being in the hotel that day.”

  Liz frowned. “You said before that Hulbert saw Peter going into a ballroom. What about Brandy?”

  “We don’t know for sure he was in the hotel. Hulbert wasn’t positive it was him he saw, and I haven’t had a chance to ask Peter about it. Brandy said she didn’t see Jasmine that day.”

  “But was she in the hotel?”

  Rory shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” She pounded her fist on the arm of the chair. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

  A cock-a-doodle-doo interrupted their conversation. Rory glanced down at her cell, then turned it off.

  “Who was that?” Liz said.

  “Peter.”

  Liz uncrossed her legs, put her slippers back on and stood up. She pulled at Rory’s arms, trying to drag her out of the chair. “Come on, come to the party with me. You don’t have to paint, just hang around and have fun.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not in the mood. I think I’ll just go home.”

  “Okay, but you’re missing a good time. Call me if you want to talk.” Liz waved her phone in the air and skipped down the hallway toward the ballrooms.

  Feeling as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, Rory headed home.

  Chapter 16

  The sun had set over the city as Rory rounded the corner onto Seagull Lane. When she pulled into her driveway moments later, her front porch light winked on, reaching out into the darkness, welcoming her home. Looking forward to the healing powers of Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza and an episode or two of “The Big Bang Theory,” she parked in front of her detached garage and made her way around the side of the single-story stucco house toward the back door, a route she took every day. She frowned when she spied the pool of darkness where light should have been. As far as she remembered, the back porch light was working the previous evening.

  The exterior lights of her neighbor’s house cast shadows on her property, but still gave off enough light for her to see the ground in front of her. She picked her way across the lawn toward the back door. As soon as she set foot on the patio, a figure separated itself from a plastic lawn chair that sat on the concrete slab and someone called out her name.

  Rory gave a small scream, suppressing it when she recognized the voice. “Peter? What are you doing here?”

  “I tried your cell, but you didn’t pick up. We need to talk.”

  She felt for the lock in the darkness, inserted the key and opened the door. “I’m tired. Call me tomorrow.”

  He grabbed Rory’s arm. “Please, I won’t keep you long.”

  She pulled away. This conversation belonged in the privacy of her home, not out here where the neighbors could hear every word. “Okay, fine. You can come inside, but only for a few minutes.”

  “That’s all I need.”

  Rory turned on the inside light and led the way into the kitchen. She gestured toward the table. “Have a seat.”

  Peter sat down on one side while Rory took a seat across from him.

  Normally, Rory would ask a guest if they wanted something to drink, but tonight she wasn’t feeling very hospitable. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Okay, talk.”

  Peter sat back in his chair and played with the wedding ring on his finger, twisting it around and around, then pulling it on and off. Finally, he looked directly into her eyes and said, “Brandy and I are not having an affair. That kiss you saw was a one time thing. We got...caught up in the moment.”

  “But you have feelings for each other. Brandy said so.”

  Peter looked out the window at the side yard and the darkness beyond
. “It’s not easy being married to a person with narcolepsy. There are things I had to give up. She wouldn’t go to a play or ballet with me because she usually fell asleep. We rarely went out to dinner or to a party.”

  “It didn’t have to be that way, did it?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not, but that’s the way it turned out.” He paused as if choosing his words carefully. “Brandy’s different. I can do all those things with her. It’s such a relief to spend time with her. No drama. No worries.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I want you to understand. What you think matters to me, to us. We’ve all known each other a long time. We don’t want to lose that friendship.”

  Rory studied his face, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. Lord help her, but she had to wonder if his earnest expression was only a facade, and he was merely saying these things to cover up his involvement in his wife’s death. “Are you going to get together now that Jasmine’s gone?”

  “I don’t know. Would it bother you if we did?”

  “You should at least wait until her killer’s found.”

  “She overdosed. That’s what the police said,” Peter said. “Unless you know something I don’t?”

  “I can’t believe she’d take her medicine in the middle of the day. She was too careful about following doctor’s orders. And from everything I read and what the ER doctor told me, she would have had to take it not long before she returned to class. What happened to your believing it wasn’t an accident? That she couldn’t have overdosed?”

  “I changed my mind. That detective convinced me there’s nothing suspicious about her death. You’ve barely seen her in the last few months. How can you be so sure it wasn’t one?”

  “I just am. Where were you when Jasmine died?”

  “So now I killed my wife, did I? You know me better than that.”

  “Do I? I’m not so sure anymore. Someone saw you going into the Zuma ballroom during the alarm, dressed in coveralls.”

  “What? Who told you that? I was nowhere near the hotel. I was at work. Why would I be wearing coveralls? I’m an accountant, not a janitor.”

  “So you haven’t taken a second job?”

  “There’s no need. We’re doing fine.”

  “You say you were working. I thought you had the week off?”

  “I was called in to talk to a client at the last minute.” Peter threw up his hands. “Why am I even justifying myself to you?”

  “Someone killed your wife. Her medicine wasn’t in her purse and, like I said, she had to have taken it a short time before she collapsed.”

  “So she went up to her room before she returned to class,” he said, echoing Detective Green’s thoughts. “Check the hotel security footage.”

  “There isn’t any security footage. No cameras on the guest room floors.”

  “So you can’t say she didn’t go up there.”

  “Who had keys to her room?”

  “The one I gave you was the one Jaz had in her purse. I know she requested another one, but I don’t know who she gave it to.”

  “Could it have been Brandy?”

  “Now you’re accusing her?” Peter stood up. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Wait, before you go. I heard you’re under investigation at work. What’s going on?”

  “What are you talking about?” He stared at her in disbelief.

  “Rumor has it—”

  “Rumors. You of all people should know rumors don’t equal truth. Look at everything you went through in the last few months.”

  After Peter left the way he came in and she locked the door behind him, Rory sat at the table and buried her head in her hands. She didn’t know whether to trust him or not. He could have killed Jasmine with or without Brandy’s help. She wondered if he’d merely been playing the part of the concerned spouse when he asked Rory to talk to the police.

  Whatever the truth was, she’d lost her appetite. She got up from the table and headed straight to bed.

  Rory woke up early the next morning, changed the bulb in the back porch light, and drove to the convention without eating breakfast. When she couldn’t find Nixie in the office, she headed to the El Porto ballroom. Rory scanned the dozen tables set up around the room, spotting Liz at a table by herself.

  Rory sat down and pinched a piece off the blueberry muffin her friend was eating.

  Liz reached over and touched Rory’s hand. “How are you this morning? Did you get a good night’s rest?”

  “Peter came to see me last night.”

  “He did? What did he say?”

  “He was trying to convince me he and Brandy weren’t having an affair.”

  “Did he? Convince you, that is?”

  “I’m not sure my opinion matters. I asked him about other keys to Jasmine’s hotel room. He thought she’d given one to someone, but he didn’t know who.”

  “Might not make all that much difference. Veronica didn’t have any problem getting in the room without a key.”

  “That’s true.”

  When Stella approached the table moments later, Rory invited her to join them.

  “How’s everything going, Stella?” Rory nodded toward the camera the woman had placed on the table. “How’s your project going? Are you getting a lot of interesting footage?”

  “It’s turning out better than I expected. I don’t record everything, of course. I’m just doing a sampling of events. So far I’ve filmed two classes and did a tour of the hotel. I’ll edit it down before I show it to the chapter. Do you want to see some of it?”

  “Sure, I’d like that.” Rory expected Stella to pick up the camera but, instead, the woman took out her cell and pressed its screen a few times. “The camera comes with this great app,” she said. “I transferred the footage I’ve taken so far to my phone so I can share it. Here, take a look at this.” She showed the two other women the list of short video clips she’d downloaded to her smartphone.

  Rory checked out each one, fast-forwarding through most of the clips, occasionally stopping at an item of interest. Whenever she spotted Jasmine, Rory stopped the video and replayed it from the beginning. In one, Ian and a man she didn’t recognize were arguing in the side courtyard. Jasmine entered the frame, concealing herself behind a plant as the two men talked. As the unknown man was leaving through the side gate, he spotted Jasmine and briefly spoke with her before heading toward the exit, alerting the hotel manager to the woman’s presence. Ian confronted her. They talked for several minutes, the camera panning to the inside of the hotel in the middle of their conversation.

  Rory showed the footage to Stella and Liz. “Do either of you recognize the man talking with Ian?”

  The two of them looked at the clip, but neither one had ever seen him before.

  “Stella, do you know anything about this? Do you know when it was taken?” Rory asked.

  A few taps on the screen and the woman had the answer. “Let’s see. The time on the file says five-twenty p.m. Looks like it was taken Tuesday. I was taking video of the hotel then. I stopped to talk to one of the staff. I didn’t realize I’d left the camera on.”

  That would explain the sudden change in the clip, Rory thought. She cast her mind back to the day and time indicated. That was forty minutes before the opening of the trade show floor for the early shopping opportunity. Rory remembered seeing Jasmine working at the VivEco booth that evening. They’d both been so busy, the two of them only had a chance to talk once or twice. She hadn’t thought anything was wrong at the time, but now that she thought about it, her friend had seemed a bit uneasy.

  “Can I have a copy of this video?” she said to Stella after they watched the footage of Ian and the unknown man a half dozen times without coming to any conclusions.

  The woman nodded her head. “Sure. I’ll email it to you. Just give me your address.”

  Once she had the video clip on her own cell phone, Rory said goodbye to the two women and headed into the lob
by in search of Ian Blalock, hoping to discover what he and Jasmine had been talking about the day before she died.

  Chapter 17

  Rory found Ian in the lobby, speaking with a guest. She waited until the hotel manager finished his conversation before approaching him.

  He frowned when he saw her. “Just the person I wanted to see. I didn’t appreciate the comment you made about the Akaw on Facebook.”

  “I didn’t say that to anyone. I don’t hold the hotel responsible for my friend’s death at all. I took the comment down as soon as I saw it.”

  Ian nodded, seeming to accept her apology.

  Rory took a deep breath and plunged in. “Speaking of Jasmine, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

  A quizzical look on his face, Ian nodded his agreement.

  “Would you mind looking at some footage I have? I’m tracing Jasmine’s movements in the days before she died. Her husband, Peter, hadn’t seen her much during that period and, well, he wants to know as much as possible. You can imagine how distraught he is. I told him I’d help out.”

  In a soft voice, the hotel manager said, “It’s hard to lose a spouse, especially in such an...ugly way. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  On her smartphone, Rory played the footage Stella had sent her showing Ian arguing with the unknown man and his talk with Jasmine afterwards.

  As he watched, his face darkened. After they viewed the entire video, Ian stared off into space for a moment, then looked at Rory and said, “What do you want to know?” There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

  “What did you talk with Jasmine about?”

  “I don’t remember. I have conversations with dozens of people every day. She was probably asking where something was in the hotel. Or maybe it had something to do with the convention. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important or unusual enough to stick in my mind.”