A Secondhand Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  Speaking of “incredibly stupid.” We all took the seats that we had occupied before, except Madeleine, who slid beneath the window so that she could peer over the sill every few seconds.

  “Go make some coffee.” I waved her away from the window.

  Madeleine looked at me with hurt in her eyes but stormed across the room and into the kitchen. I remembered the earlier episode with the iced tea just a little too late. By letting her roam free in my kitchen, I was just asking for more trouble, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her not to bother with the coffee.

  Alex turned his attention to Grandy. “Are you psychic? You said you felt something was wrong here?”

  She chuckled at first, and then erupted into rumbling laughter. “I wish I were. I had a dream about you, darling, but that was after I got the message from you on my cellphone.”

  “I left that days ago.”

  “We get lousy cell service when we’re out on the water. What’s up? Something to do with Jerry, right?”

  “Kind of.” I wanted to talk to Grandy about Valerie Sanders, but I didn’t want to have the conversation in front of the others, not even my best friend Madeleine, and certainly not Alex. “Madeleine. Come out here.”

  “I’m making coffee like you said.”

  “Never mind the coffee. I could use a pizza or some ribs. I’m starved. Maybe you and Alex could do a run to the Burnt Biscuit and get us all something.” I turned my attention to Grandy. “I’ll bet you’re hungry after your drive, right?”

  “They deliver. I’ll put in a call.” Madeleine grabbed the kitchen wall phone. “What does everyone want?”

  I gave up. “Grandy and I haven’t seen each other in months. We can catch up while you two do the hunting and gathering thing.”

  I thought that was pretty direct, but Madeleine persisted, trying to fill my shoes as a good hostess and oblivious to the request for privacy.

  “I’m sure you have a lot to say to each other, but you need food, Eve. Besides, they deliver. We can save gas …”

  Alex grabbed the receiver out of her hand and led her gently to the front door. “We’ll be back soon,” he said, waving.

  Madeline protested, “We don’t even know if they want ribs or pizza. With or without fries or slaw. Coke or Pepsi—”

  “We’ll get a little of everything.” Alex opened the door and nudged her through.

  I watched them drive off in Alex’s car. Frida’s head appeared over the top of the seat of her cruiser. She shot a look of disgust my way and shook her head, then disappeared once more below the level of the car window.

  With everyone gone, Grandy and I could talk girl stuff, but she surprised me.

  “I’ve got some news for you. Max and I have decided to downsize a bit.”

  “What’s wrong?” I was suddenly aware of my Grandy’s advancing years and worried that she and Max might be having health problems. “Are you and Max okay?”

  She laughed, but I saw worry in her eyes.

  “Oh, we’re fine. It’s the economy that’s the problem. We’ve been running charters out of Key West for over twenty years now. The dock fees are killing us. They go up every year and our boat keeps getting older, just like us. In order to pick up enough charters to pay our fees and make money, we’d have to re-equip the boat or get a new one. We’re just too damn old for that.” She sighed. “Besides, we don’t have that kind of money. To compete with the other charter companies, we would have to buy a much larger boat.”

  She shifted about on the couch and added, “Folks nowadays want to fish, yes, but they also want an upscale experience—Jacuzzi tub in their room, gourmet meals three times a day, fancy dining area, fully equipped bar. We can’t afford that.” She jumped up from the couch and walked over to the window.

  I steered her back toward the couch.

  “I thought having a clean place to sleep and tasty grub for a few days was all anybody could want on a fishing charter,” she said. “I always put together tuna salad sandwiches or burgers and sometimes we even cook the day’s catch or steaks out on the grill. Now they want a flat screen TV and cocktails delivered to them in the lounge. We don’t have a lounge and we’re not getting one, either.”

  She gave me a defiant look. “We can’t pay our docking fees any longer. We’re busted, honey.”

  I put my arms around her soft, sloping shoulders. I’d never seen my Grandy beaten by anything. This was a first. She was always the one who led the way out of any trouble—financial or otherwise. She had been my compass in all the storms of adolescence. She was the only one who had warned me that marrying Jerry would be a mistake. Everyone else had agreed with her, but none had the courage to say so to my face.

  “What will you do?” Any troubles I might be having seemed miniscule in comparison to the idea of Grandy without hope.

  She shook herself free of my embrace.

  “Now, let’s not get too maudlin here. We’ll manage.”

  “You could live with me.”

  “Have you lost your mind? We’re not land people. We like a boat under our feet. If I can’t feel the rock of the waves, I can’t get to sleep.”

  “So, what are your plans?”

  “We’re heading for the marina in Key Largo, where a vacancy recently came up. Got a deal there. We’ll only be doing day trips. Anyways, it’s a lot closer to you than Key West. You can come down for a weekend to visit.”

  She reached up, patted my cheek and smiled. There was still concern written on her beautiful, cherubic face, but I could tell that she was finished talking about her woes for the evening.

  “So, in your message you said that Valerie accused you of being a thief.”

  “Actually, she said that she never would have brought her items to our shop if she had known that I was married to Jerry. Then she put two and two together and realized that I was your granddaughter. That seemed to bother her just as much as my relationship with Jerry. She accused you of being a thief, saying that the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. I kind of popped her in the puss.”

  “I suppose you want to know what that remark was all about.” Grandy fixed me with her round blue eyes.

  “I didn’t believe her for a moment. But, now she’s dead, and I keep thinking that her comment might be relevant somehow. Alex thinks that whoever killed her was really after me.”

  “I can see how he might arrive at that conclusion, given the similarity in looks.”

  “How do you know that we looked alike?”

  “Oh, come now. Even as children, you looked alike, age-difference aside. Valerie’s nanny used to take her to the park in West Hartford, the same one I would take you to when the weather was nice. Your parents lived just a few blocks away.”

  “How did you know Valerie’s family?”

  “I worked for them when I was a young woman. I was one of their maids.”

  A quick smile created a tiny dimple, indicating a half-truth.

  “Valerie’s grandfather was my lover.”

  Chapter 13

  “Your lover?” I almost choked.

  Grandy thumped me on the back.

  “Surprised you, didn’t I?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  She had a story to tell. I was eager to listen, but before she got started I ran to the kitchen to fetch us both some water. Storytelling can be dry work if the tale is long, and it usually is in our family. When I returned, Grandy was fast asleep on the couch.

  “Grandy, Grandy.” I shook her, but she put her hand on my arm and pushed me away.

  “Later, Eve. I’m bone-tired. Wake me when the food arrives.”

  I slipped a lap robe over her and took my glass of water to the porch to await Alex and Madeleine’s return. Yawning, I lay down on the chaise lounge and watched the sun set across the street. The next thing I knew someone was shaking me awake.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Alex.

  “Where’s Madeleine?”

  “She had me drop her at Wal-Mart. Said some
thing about needing to buy cups. She told me she’d walk back when she was finished.”

  The land-line phone rang.

  “I have to get that before the noise wakes Grandy.”

  I got there too late. Grandy was already speaking into the receiver.

  “Where are you, dear?” She handed the phone over to me. “I think it’s Madeleine, and she sounds upset, but I can’t make out a thing she’s saying.”

  “I’ve been kidnapped!” Madeline shouted, but before she could explain, another voice came on.

  “This woman is crazy. I haven’t kidnapped her. I just wanted to know where you lived, that’s all. Jerry told me you were best friends with a little redheaded woman, and here I was at the store behind one. She mentioned your name to the cashier. I figured she had to be the gal. So I asked her polite-like if she was your friend. When she said yes, I offered her a ride to your place. When she saw my car, she went kind of crazy, took out her cell and punched in your number.”

  The accent was anything but Florida. It wasn’t blue-blood Connecticut, either. I was reminded of some of Jerry’s old poker buddies. The guys who were connected with the Family, with a capital “F.”

  I walked into my Florida room, out of earshot of Grandy and Alex.

  “Put Madeleine back on the phone.”

  “He’s the one in the black SUV who’s been surveying your place all day. I think he’s a gangster.” Her voice trembled with fear or excitement. I couldn’t tell which.

  “Calm down. He probably is a gangster, but I don’t think he means you any harm. If he did, I doubt he’d have let you call me. I guess we’ve got some unfinished business. I’ll talk to him. You just chill for a bit.” My voice shook with barely controlled terror as I said, “Mr. Napolitani, I believe?”

  I may have believed he didn’t mean harm to my friend, but me? He wanted that loan repaid. Now. No telling what he meant to do to get the money. If my little Miata was any indication, his methods weren’t subtle.

  “Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

  “I have company right now, and I can’t get away, so can this wait until another time?” I knew it couldn’t. Why had I chanced making him mad?

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “Why not? Is there a good place to eat around here, somewhere they serve Italian food?”

  “I’m afraid you’re stuck with steaks, catfish, pizza, or pork chops. I wouldn’t say the pizza is very Italian.”

  I gave him directions to the Burnt Biscuit and agreed to meet him there as soon as I could get away. I knew I had no choice, but I wasn’t going anywhere without backup. A rendezvous in a public place meant my friends could keep an eye out, and, if necessary, testify in court against him when he was tried for my murder.

  The first question that came to my mind was whether I should bring Alex in on this conversation. Probably not. Maybe I should have Frida wire me. The thought of Frida reminded me of her whereabouts, and made me wonder why hadn’t she intervened when she saw Napolitani and Madeleine together. She must have tracked the SUV to Wal-Mart …

  When Madeleine got back on the line, I asked her not to mention any of this to Grandy or Alex. I hadn’t decided how to handle the situation and I didn’t want to add to Grandy’s concern. As for Alex, well, I just got out of a relationship with a man who had proved unfaithful and unreliable and might have had a hand in arranging for my death. My need for another man was at an all-time low just now. I was a grown woman. A coward, maybe, but still an adult. I’d take care of myself.

  Dummy, he’s a crime boss, not an annoying neighbor.

  Madeleine entered the house several minutes later, looking rather pleased with herself and not at all rattled, despite her encounter.

  “He really was a gentleman,” she whispered to me as she began stacking new cups and saucers in my cupboard.

  “Are you all right, my dear?” asked Grandy from the other room.

  “Oh, sure. I was concerned about the color of the cups I just bought. I couldn’t remember Eve’s kitchen décor.” She winked at me, a movement Alex must have caught. He raised one eyebrow as if to ask me what was going on. I feigned ignorance.

  After our feast, where everyone but me had seemed to have an appetite, we all helped clear the table. Madeleine offered to make coffee, but I suggested perhaps Grandy would like to make an early night of it.

  “Oh, I’m fine. I had a little nap on the couch. I feel invigorated.”

  “Great then. I have an appointment after dinner. Maybe Alex and Madeleine can stay here and the three of you can play a couple of games of Pitch.”

  “I don’t think I know how to play Pitch,” said Madeleine.

  “What appointment?” Alex looked suspicious.

  My cell rang. I looked at my caller ID. Frida.

  “You’ll never guess who was driving that black SUV,” she said. “It was Babs Cassidy, the ex-wife of the guy who loaned you his truck. Seems she’s the jealous type.”

  “Frida.” Here was someone who could help me. “Oh good. I’m glad you found out about that and yes, I do remember our appointment tonight in fifteen minutes at the Biscuit. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

  “What are you talking about? We don’t have a meeting tonight.”

  “Sure, I understand. I’ve already eaten, but the Biscuit serves their Italian specialty tonight, you know, Napolitani spaghetti. You love it. I’ll just have a glass of Chianti or some other Italian wine while you eat. Ciao.” I flipped my phone shut.

  “What meeting?” Alex’s nosiness was beginning to irritate me.

  “Um, Frida is helping put together a neighborhood watch program. I’m one of the organizers. Gotta run.”

  Alex followed me to my rental car. “Are you sure you’re okay going out, after the day you’ve had?”

  “I’m good. Besides, I forgot to tell Frida where I think the murder weapon came from, and it wasn’t my store.”

  “Where’d it come from?”

  “I think the knife that killed Valerie came from her house. If Frida can get a search warrant, she might find that one is missing from the Sanders’ kitchen.”

  “Why do you think someone in the Sanders family was responsible for Valerie’s murder?”

  “I don’t like the family. They give me the creeps. I didn’t much care for Valerie, but there was something desperate about the woman. She was flawed enough to make me believe that she might be human under all that snobbery. The rest of them make me want to take a shower.”

  Alex seemed to consider my words for a minute.

  “It’s an interesting lead, but if you’re right, whoever came into the shop today and took the knife from the back has already thought it through and is trying to cover up their tracks.”

  “We’re too late, huh?”

  “Yeah, I bet that knife has found its way into the Sanders’ kitchen already.” He sounded more certain about my Sanders lead than I had expected.

  “I wonder who might have put the knife there. Damn. We lost all that time at the hospital getting me bandaged up and extracting Madeleine from her mess.” I opened my car door. “Well, bye for now. Got to save the neighborhood from criminals.”

  Alex came closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat emanating from his body. He reached out and turned me around to face him. Could he read the lies in my face? He lifted my bandaged hand to his lips and kissed it. I giggled.

  “You be careful, crime fighter.”

  I slid into the seat. He closed the door and rapped on the car’s hood as I started the engine. Breathing a sigh of relief, I drove off to meet my crime boss.

  Frida was sitting in her unmarked police car, which she had parked toward the rear of the Biscuit’s lot. She rolled down her window as I approached. “What in the hell is going on?”

  I explained that I was meeting Nappi Napolitani and that I wanted her there for protection. “I think he’s going to threaten me with something unpleasant if I don’t pay back the loan to Jerry. App
arently he’s trying to tie up loose ends before Jerry marries his daughter.”

  “Did he threaten you over the phone?”

  “No.”

  “Madeleine?”

  “He just offered her a ride, but I think he’s responsible for blowing up my car.”

  “You think, but you have no proof. Besides, the bomb was a real amateur job. I can’t see a crime boss hiring someone so inept to do the job, can you?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Look, I’ll try to get a table close to yours so that I can listen in on the conversation.”

  “There’s another thing.” I told her my suspicions about the knife.

  She shook her head after I suggested that she get a search warrant.

  “I can’t see any judge granting that request on such flimsy information. Cannot do. Sorry. We’d need a lot more to get into that house.”

  “Hey, that knife belongs to the consignment shop. If it’s in the Sanders’ kitchen, it’s stolen property.”

  “No, no, no. What if the knife is in the house? What does that prove?”

  “The murderer put it there so there’d be a full set of knives. So you wouldn’t think the knife came from the Sanders’ set. So the murder weapon wouldn’t be traced to the their household, implicating someone there—a family member.”

  My logic was impeccable.

  “Eve, all the members of that household—Sanders, his stepson, Valerie’s daughter, and her husband—are already implicated, don’t you know that?”

  “This is additional implication.”

  “No.”

  “Okay, but could I have another look at the knife that killed Valerie?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll know when I see it.”

  Frida scrutinized my face as if to find an answer she could believe. She waited a moment, then nodded her agreement.

  “Tomorrow morning. Stop by my office before you open the shop. You only get to look at it.”

  Fine. I’d find another way to examine the second knife, the one I was certain had found its way back into the Sanders’ kitchen.