“That’s her. That’s Viveca.”
“What was it? A heart attack?” Always sounded almost bored.
“No. Poison in her champagne.”
A sharp intake of breath. “Do they know who did it?”
“Not yet. They’re looking at everyone who was there. The police will probably call you sometime to ask you some questions.”
“It would be just like the cops to try to pin it on me.”
“If you can prove you weren’t anywhere near Viveca’s glass, you shouldn’t have a problem.”
A pause where Rory imagined the wheels turning in the woman’s brain. “There was this woman who had a stupid camera plastered to her forehead. I think she was taking video or something. That can prove where I was.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Just tell the police that when they talk to you.”
“You know that Rory person, don’t you? I’ve seen you talking to her.”
Rory held her breath, sure this time that their scheme had been discovered.
“We both attended the painting convention,” Liz said in a very casual tone of voice as if she barely knew the person Always had asked about.
“Were you there when she read the post I put on the convention’s Facebook page? I bet she was pissed.”
“That was you? She actually said that to you?”
“Of course not. I just wanted to rile things up a bit.”
Rory stared down at the phone, not believing what she’d just heard. At least now she knew who the mysterious person was who’d posted the comment on the convention’s page.
The rest of the call was a mixture of idle chit-chat and the murmurs of indistinguishable voices. It ended with Liz whispering, “We’re coming out now. Brandy’s going to the car. Stay in yours. I’ll come find you.”
A tap on the window moments later, inches away from her head, caused Rory to jump. She looked up to discover Detective Green peering at her. He mimed rolling down the window.
As surreptitiously as possible, Rory set her cell down in the storage bin between the seats. She returned her seat to its upright position and pressed the button for the driver’s side window.
The detective leaned casually against the car and peered inside. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Nothing,” was Rory’s unimaginative answer.
“Open the passenger door for me,” he said in his most commanding voice.
Rory obediently unlocked the door. The detective climbed into the front seat and closed the door behind him. She shut her eyes for a moment and drank in the musky scent that wafted toward her. He hadn’t smelled this good earlier in the day. She wondered what the special occasion was.
The detective cleared his throat, bringing her back to her senses. He twisted around in the seat to face her. “You’ve been parked here for some time. So long someone called to complain.”
“Do you respond to all calls from nervous neighbors? I would have thought that was a uniformed officer’s job.”
“An officer did respond. You just didn’t see him. They’ve all been told if they get a call that involves your car to call me and let me deal with it.”
“They have?” Rory squeaked out.
“Now, would you care to explain why you’re parked here? You don’t live anywhere near here and neither do your parents.”
She didn’t bother to ask how he knew where her parents lived. He’d probably looked that up when he was investigating her a couple months ago. “I ran out of gas?” She didn’t really expect him to believe her, but she thought she would give it a try.
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
Rory was tempted to respond with “Will I?” but thought better of it. “I was on the phone, that’s all. Just wanted a quiet place to talk.” At least the phone part was true, she thought.
“So you left your house, drove all the way here to park on this street and make a call.” He raised an eyebrow.
“I was on the way home when I got a call, okay? You wouldn’t want me to talk and drive, would you? That would be against the law.” She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn’t ask why, since she was a programmer and familiar with electronic gadgets, she didn’t have a hands-free device.
He stared at her for what seemed like forever before his face relaxed. She was certain she’d convinced him she was telling the truth when a ball of energy sped across the street and poked her head in the driver’s side window.
“Did you get all that?” Liz said before noticing the man sitting beside Rory. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you had company.”
She started to back away when Detective Green said, “Ms. Dexter, why don’t you join us? I think we’re about due for a little chat.” The commanding tone in his voice and the stern expression on his face indicated he didn’t intend to take no for an answer.
Rory nodded at Liz and unlocked the back door. Liz settled down in the seat behind her friend.
The detective gave each of them a stern look. “Now, what have you two been up to this time?”
Chapter 29
After a grilling and several warnings, Detective Green let the two of them go. Liz promised to meet back at Rory’s place, then returned to her car and took Brandy home while Rory headed back to Seagull Lane.
Half an hour later, Liz settled down on the couch in the living room with a glass of water. “That was fun. Up until Dashing D chewed us out, that is.”
“I wasn’t happy to have him knocking on my window. Did you know he’s told everyone in the police department to call him if my car is involved in a police matter?”
“Ah, he cares.” Liz giggled from behind her water glass. “Did you get a whiff of his cologne? The man smells go-o-o-od. I don’t remember that from before. Maybe he was on a date with Mel when he got the call.”
Rory groaned inwardly. “As if she doesn’t have enough reason to dislike me. I hope he hasn’t told her about those newspaper articles. Mel and I are supposed to have dinner tomorrow night.”
Liz waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s get back to the meeting. Nothing really of interest happened except for that conversation I had with Always. She said Stella was filming at the event.”
“I’ve seen the footage. Stella didn’t film everything,” Rory said. “As far as I remember, Always wasn’t anywhere near the signing table or Viveca’s glass. But we couldn’t tell where the glass originally came from. What reason would the protesters have for going after me, anyway?”
“You’re the one who wanted to investigate them.”
“I know, I know.”
“You think you were the target. Maybe Viveca was the real target after all.”
“But it was in the glass someone gave me.” Rory pointed a finger at her own chest. “We’re not getting anywhere on Viveca’s death. How about going back to Jasmine’s?”
“Has Miss Snoop posted anything interesting on VBC? I haven’t checked in a while.”
“Let’s take a look.” The two of them gathered around the computer. Rory brought up the blog on the screen, and they read Veronica’s account of the aborted meet and greet.
In a matter-of-fact reporting style, Veronica described the event and the chaos that had erupted when the guest of honor collapsed. For once, the woman didn’t try to embellish. Just a brief description of the efforts to save Viveca followed by a few quotes from some of the shocked attendees.
“Pretty subdued for Veronica,” Liz said. “Can I see some of the earlier posts? I haven’t had a chance to read the blog lately.”
The two switched places. Liz read through the last few entries while Rory looked over her friend’s shoulder. When Liz came to the photos that had been posted, she pointed to one. “This candid shot of Hulbert and Jasmine isn’t bad. That’s the hotel restaurant, right? I recognize that statue. I wonder when it was taken.”
“I thought it was nice too. I printed it out and gave a copy to Hulbert. It was taken the day she die
d, probably right after she left the gift shop. You can see the soda in her hand.”
Liz peered at the screen. “That’s not a soda bottle.”
“It’s not? What is it, then?”
“Don’t know. Probably something she picked up on the trade show floor.” Liz yawned. “It’s past my bedtime. Vacation’s over. I have to get back to work tomorrow.”
Liz left and, after spending half an hour more on the computer, Rory headed to bed.
As soon as Rory settled down to work the next morning, she found an alert from her bank in her inbox, telling her that Nixie’s check had bounced. When her call to the convention organizer went straight to voicemail, she put off dealing with the problem until later that afternoon.
Rory worked through lunch, then headed to downtown Vista Beach to run errands before picking up Stella for the short drive to LAX. As she passed Oscar Carlton’s office, she saw Hulbert exiting the building. Suspecting he’d hired the PI to look into Viveca’s death, she added talk to Hulbert to her to-do list, wanting to make sure he knew the police now believed his wife wasn’t the killer’s intended target.
After parking on a street near the hotel, Rory walked around town, going in and out of stores, occasionally returning to her car to stash her purchases in the trunk. Her final trip was to the pharmacy where she picked up the test coasters she’d vowed to buy the previous day.
On her way back to her car, she took a favorite shortcut between two apartment buildings. Halfway down the passageway, a homeless man leaned against a wall, his eyes closed, apparently sleeping. In front of him was a hat and a hand-lettered sign that read: Homeless veteran. Spare change welcome.
Rory was bending down to put a handful of change in the hat when the man’s hand closed around her right arm in a viselike grip. She stared into his eyes and gasped when she realized she was looking at Oscar Carlton in disguise. She pulled away, trying to wrest her arm from his grasp, but he held on tight and drew her closer. Soon her face was close enough to his that she could see every pore and individual hair on the man’s face.
“I have a video of you. I could call the police and show it to them.”
She swatted his arm with the paper bag she held in her left hand, but he merely laughed at her feeble attempts to free herself. She looked around for something she could use to break his hold on her, but all she saw was a discarded ping pong ball and a flyer for a local bar. When she opened her mouth to scream, his fingers dug into her arm.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“That hurts. What do you want from me?”
“Good. You’re going to pay for every dime you lost me with that Blalock fellow. And you’re going to stop investigating those deaths.”
“The police already know everything I’ve done,” Rory said, doing her best to make the words sound convincing.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Why do you care about what I’ve been investigating?” she said. “That has nothing to do with you.”
“I don’t like anyone invading my turf, and you’re costing me money.” He released her arm and pushed her away. “Now go, and remember what I said. I’ll be in touch.”
Without looking back, Rory ran down the passageway onto the nearby street.
Once she was sure the PI wasn’t following her, she stopped and leaned against a wall to catch her breath. She debated with herself whether or not to report the incident to Detective Green, but decided not to when she realized that would mean explaining about their search of Oscar’s office. Even though Candy had let them in the door, they must have broken a number of laws during their little adventure. She wasn’t the only one involved. She didn’t want to see Liz go to jail.
Rory glanced at the time on her cell phone. She had just enough time to check with Nixie and ask about the bounced check before she needed to leave for the airport. She shoved the disturbing encounter to the back of her mind and headed toward the Akaw.
As soon as Rory passed through the automatic doors, Mel walked up to her and said, “What’s going on? I thought we were becoming friends.”
Rory’s heart sank at the hurt look on the other woman’s face. “We are.”
“Then why did you have those newspaper articles? The ones about that crash I was in years ago.”
“He showed them to you?”
“Not exactly, but he should have. Out of the blue, Martin starts asking me about my accident, wants to know the details. I was puzzled at first, then I saw the articles on his desk. Had to drag it out of him, but he finally told me he’d gotten them from you. I couldn’t believe it. I tell you about my accident, in confidence, and you immediately go off and investigate?”
“I’m sorry I’ve upset you. Really, I am. It was a coincidence. I was investigating Viveca’s death and started looking into her background. I found those articles on that accident she was in. I had absolutely no idea it was the one you told me about.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe. Why do you care about that accident anyway? It was a long time ago. What could it possibly have to do with Viveca’s death?”
“I don’t know, but both Jasmine and Viveca were in it and now they’re both dead.”
“Wait, do you think I killed them? I didn’t even know Viveca was the other driver until Liz showed me that old book with her maiden name on it. At the convention, I only knew her as Viveca Forster. I didn’t know her maiden name was Campbell.”
“Viveca’s not a very common name.”
“I didn’t do it, okay? My spot in the strokework class was nowhere near Jasmine’s. And I can produce half a dozen witnesses that’ll verify where I was during the alarm.” Mel took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to spend any more time with you right now. I don’t think dinner tonight is a good idea.”
“If that’s what you want...Later?”
“I don’t know.” Mel looked at Rory sadly, then headed toward the front entrance.
Rory stared after Mel, feeling as if she’d lost a friendship before it had a chance to begin. Before going to find Nixie, she went into the restroom to collect herself. She sat on a toilet in a stall and put her head in her hands. A week that had started out so fun had turned into a nightmare. She’d lost an old friend and a potential new one. Plus she was no closer to figuring out who had killed Jasmine and her aunt. And now a PI was threatening her as well.
After she composed herself, she exited the bathroom and found Stella in the lobby waiting for her.
“I need a minute. I’ll be right back,” she said to the woman.
“No problem. I’m early anyway.” Stella sat down on a chair next to her luggage while Rory walked down the hallway to the Manhattan ballroom. She found the convention organizer outside the room, packing up the pictures, painted pieces, and cards from the impromptu tribute to Jasmine.
As soon as she spotted Rory, Nixie handed her the heart-shaped necklace Rory had placed on the display. “Here, you should take this.”
“How did you know it was mine?”
“Your name’s on the back.”
Rory turned the necklace over and read the tiny lettering she’d never noticed before: To Rory, J. With a lump in her throat, she put on the necklace. “What are you going to do with the rest of it?”
“Give it to Peter. He should decide what to do with it.” Nixie put the last tribute item into the box and carried it into the office. She started sorting through the papers on the desk, neatly placing them in a briefcase. “Did you want to talk to me about something?”
“It’s about that check you gave me. It bounced.”
Nixie paused with a yellow folder in her hand, but didn’t look up from her packing. “Did it? I’m sorry about that. I’ll have to go through the bank account again. I promise I’ll pay you as soon as I have the money.”
As Rory watched the folder disappear into the briefcase, something niggled at her brain. She replayed the last week in her mind and came up with the answer. “Wait. That yellow folder. It’s Jas
mine’s, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be putting it into the box you’re giving to Peter?”
Nixie froze in the midst of packing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rory thought back to her search of the office and the accounting report she’d seen in the yellow folder. She’d only glanced at the columns of figures, not bothering to read the words on the page. At the time, she figured the report had something to do with the convention, but now she wondered. “I saw that same folder in Jasmine’s hand. She was putting it into her roller bag. It’s proof you embezzled, isn’t it?” With a start, Rory realized that was probably what Jasmine had wanted to talk to her about after class, only she’d never gotten the chance.
“You’ve got quite the imagination. All this investigating you’ve been doing has got you seeing crime everywhere.” The convention organizer shoved the last piece of paper in the briefcase and zipped it shut. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to start taking all this to the car.”
“I know that folder belonged to Jasmine.”
“She’s not the only one with a yellow folder.”
“She’s the only with a folder with her handwriting on it. I bet if I compared what’s written on the tab with a sample of her handwriting, they’d be the same.”
Nixie’s face paled. “I know what you’re thinking. She gave me the file. So, you see, I had no reason to harm her.”
Rory’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You’re going to let that poor woman serve time for something you did?”
Nixie placed her briefcase on top of a box, picked them both up, and brushed past Rory. “Tell your mother everything’s set for pick up tomorrow.” Without looking back, she headed down the hallway.
Rory shook her head and walked back to the lobby where Stella was waiting for her. “Sorry about that. Ready?”
Stella nodded. As she bent down to pick up a large tote bag, its contents tumbled out. A half dozen bottles of blue-label varnish lay among the clothes and painting supplies the woman had packed.
“That varnish is bad. Hulbert told me about it when I was working the booth.”
Paint the Town Dead Page 22
