In the Dead of Winter (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 5)

by Karen Chester

  “One hundred and ten,” Nick responded, by now looking a little tense. Next to him, Becky frowned and shook her head, but he ignored this.

  “One twenty,” came Frank’s swift counterbid. As Nick hesitated, the dentist stroked his chin, confidence oozing from him.

  “A hundred and fifty,” a new voice said from nearby.

  Emma gasped as she realized the bid had come from Rusty, leaning against the stage a few feet away from her. What on earth was he doing? Rusty looked a little worse for wear, his eyes bloodshot, his shirt hanging out from his pants. Had he been drinking something other than water?

  As the crowd buzzed, Becky jumped to her feet and hurried over to the singer.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed at Rusty, who grimaced but said nothing. Becky threw an imploring look at Emma. Emma lifted her shoulders, indicating her helplessness.

  “Goodness me!” Monica Benson shrilled. “Who would’ve thought a little old chocolate-eggnog pie could be so precious? Must be some pie. Any advance on one hundred and fifty dollars? Gentlemen?” She waved her gavel at Nick Stavros and Frank Lipperman.

  At the table Nick swiped a hand over his gleaming brow. The man was sweating, and no wonder. He’d thought he’d do his date a favor and buy her pie, but now he was facing stiff competition, and he didn’t want to wimp out. Frank Lipperman was tugging at his bow tie, a scowl darkening his sharp features.

  “Two hundred dollars!” Nick burst out, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

  Another excited murmur rippled through the hall. Everyone swiveled to look at Frank and then at Rusty. With a sardonic smile, Frank tipped his head at Nick, acknowledging defeat. Rusty’s shoulders sagged as he too gave up.

  “Two hundred dollars!” Monica Benson screeched into the microphone. “Going once, going twice, sold to Nick Stavros!” She banged her gavel and the crowd burst into applause.

  Face gleaming with perspiration, Nick bounded up to the stage to accept the box containing the pie. Leaving the stage, he turned to Becky, no doubt expecting her heartfelt gratitude, but instead Becky was looking at Rusty, her expression filled with concern. Nick’s triumphant smile vanished, and then as Rusty glowered at him, a fierce scowl transformed his usually genial face. The abrupt change took Emma by surprise. She was the only one who could see Nick’s naked emotion, and then, just as quickly, his fury disappeared, and the pleasant expression she was accustomed to returned.

  What had happened there? Was Nick just having a face-off with Rusty, or had she caught a glimpse of Nick’s true nature? But he was all smiles as he escorted Becky back to their table with the two hundred dollar pie. He had seen off his rivals, and now he had the girl and the pie. Or so it seemed.

  ***

  An hour later, the band was in full swing, the dance floor was heaving, and the hall was growing hot and stuffy. Having finished tallying up the money raised from the auction, Emma decided to step out of the hall for a short break and some fresh air. She had no sooner left the WAC when she spotted a burly figure standing in the shadows just beyond the lights shining over the entrance.

  The figure moved toward her, and her nerves jumped before she realized who it was.

  “Martinez,” she said. “You gave me a fright.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  As he moved into the lights she saw he was wearing a black windbreaker with the word ‘security’ written on it. “You’re working? I thought you were free tonight.”

  “Yeah, well, the guy who was supposed to be on security tonight fell ill and asked me to fill in.”

  “That’s too bad.” She remembered that she’d asked Martinez if he was attending the fundraiser and him asking if Becky was going.

  The cop lifted his bulky shoulders. “I don’t mind. I could do with the extra pay, and it’s easy work.”

  “You could’ve been in there.” She jerked a thumb in the direction of the party. “Enjoying yourself.”

  “Don’t know about that.” He scratched his thumbnail against his chin. “So, a two hundred dollar chocolate-eggnog pie, huh?”

  “So you heard about it?”

  “That’s all everyone who came out for a smoke was talking about. Nick Stavros outbid the dentist and the singer. I guess being a vet pays well. More than being a cop, anyways.”

  Emma squinted up at the beefy officer, wondering if he felt resentful toward Nick. It’s not the size of your pay packet that matters, she wanted to say to him. But that seemed presumptuous, and anyway she’d hate to give him false hope. From what she had observed, out of all Becky’s current admirers, Nick Stavros was the only one who stood a chance with her. In his presence Becky seemed so comfortable and happy. In fact, Becky seemed more than halfway to falling in love with him.

  But that news wouldn’t cheer up Martinez, and Emma was ambivalent about it too. Before tonight she would have welcomed her friend finding happiness, but after that glimpse of Nick’s fierce scowl, she wasn’t so sure about him. Not that it was her place to say anything.

  ***

  Later on, the crush on the dance floor became even thicker as the clock ticked toward twelve and the boisterous crowd counted down the seconds. When midnight struck, a huge cheer erupted and everyone celebrated. Emma exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone she knew, while wishing that Owen was with her. Next year, she thought. Next year would be different. She sent him a text message, read his reply, then clicked back into work mode, making sure that champagne was being served to everyone.

  Ninety minutes later, the fundraiser was over. The music had stopped, the band was packing up. Most of the partygoers had left, but a few still lingered, reluctant to call it a night. Meanwhile, the tables were stripped, the chairs stacked, and the cleaners were busy sweeping up the debris.

  Emma had helped the servers clear the tables and assisted the caterers in packing up their equipment. Now she was doing one of her final duties, checking for lost property. It never ceased to surprise her how many articles got misplaced during a party. Tonight she found an earring, a belt, a pair of silk stockings, and a hip flask of whiskey. She gathered everything and deposited them in the manager’s office. No doubt some people would be calling her in the next few days.

  She had just locked the door to the office when a muffled cry reached her ears. She spun around, her nerves on alert. The sound had come from the main hall. She rushed in. It was deserted except for someone lying at the foot of the stage, groaning and writhing.

  “Oh my God, Rusty!” She ran to his side and crouched down. Rusty was flat out on his belly, his arms and legs spread out. She touched his shoulder, hesitant to move him for fear of exacerbating any injuries. “Rusty? It’s me, Emma. Can you hear me?”

  With an almighty groan, Rusty rolled over and struggled up into a sitting position. He leaned his back against the stage, his chest heaving. He motioned with one hand at the stage behind him.

  “Someone…pushed me,” he spluttered.

  Emma glanced up at the darkened stage. It looked as deserted as the hall. In the time she had gone to the manager’s office, the cleaners and the last of the partygoers had all left, leaving Rusty here alone.

  Footsteps sounded, and someone hurried into the hall. She breathed in relief when she saw it was Abigail from the diner.

  “I heard someone yelling,” Abigail said as she approached. “Oh, what’s happened?”

  Behind her, more figures appeared. Martinez and Hazel marched up, and behind them Oscar drifted in, his eyes wide with alarm.

  As soon as Rusty caught sight of Martinez, he beckoned the cop closer. “Someone pushed me off the stage!” he said, his voice firmer. He pointed at a growing lump on his head. “You see that? He tried to kill me.”

  Martinez’s expression was calm but alert. “Who tried to kill you?”

  “That nincompoop vet, of course.” Color flooded Rusty’s face as he sat up straighter. “That Nick Stavros.”

  Martinez blinked. “You’re sure it was him? You got a good look at h
im?”

  Rusty swiped the back of his hand across his nose. “No, I didn’t get a good look. He snuck up behind me and pushed me in the back, but it had to be him. I’m sure of it.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Why do you think? I made him look like a goose in front of Becky until he coughed up two hundred dollars for her pie. You should’ve seen his face when he came to get the pie. He was spitting mad at me. Didn’t want to spend all that money on her, you see.”

  Martinez’s expression gave nothing away. “So you’re saying Nick Stavros pushed you off the stage because you forced him to spend two hundred dollars on a pie?”

  The deadpan way he said it made Rusty flush even deeper. “Yes! He’s crazy, I tell ya!”

  Standing tall over Rusty, Hazel made a sudden snort. “What a ridiculous story! You’re making it up. Anyone with half a brain can see you’re drunk. You simply fell off the stage, didn’t you?”

  “Stay out of this, lady!” Rusty barked.

  Martinez made an irritated sound as he turned to Hazel. “Ma’am, do you mind?”

  With an indignant sniff, Hazel spun on her sensible heel and strode out.

  “You believe me, don’t you, Emma?” Rusty appealed to Emma. “You got here first. Didn’t you see Nick running away?”

  Emma shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, I didn’t see anyone, and apart from you the hall was empty as far as I could tell.”

  Martinez spoke. “I’ll go outside and see if I can spot Nick Stavros. I’ll be right back.” He walked out, not looking particularly rushed.

  Oscar helped Rusty to his feet and guided him to a chair.

  “Thanks, man.” Rusty sighed, swaying slightly.

  Emma peered at him more closely. His eyes were glassy, and there was a definite whiff of alcohol coming off him. During the latter part of the party she’d been too busy to pay him much attention, but clearly Rusty had been sipping something other than water.

  “Do you want a lift to the hospital?” Emma asked, examining the lump on his head.

  “Nah. Can’t stand hospitals.”

  At that moment Becky came into the hall and hurried over to Rusty. “Oh, Rusty, I just heard what happened. You poor thing!” she exclaimed, bending over him.

  Rusty pulled himself upright, a feeble grin stretching his lips. “I’m fine, really. I thought you’d left already.”

  “No,” Becky said, still frowning. “I stopped to talk to some people, and then Martinez told me what happened.”

  “Where’s the vet?” The smile had faded from Rusty’s lips.

  “Nick? He said he needed the bathroom. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Rusty pushed himself to his feet. “I should probably get going.”

  “But what about that lump on your head? How are you getting home?”

  “The band will drop me off. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I can’t help worrying. Sometimes you’re so accident prone, Rusty.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Rusty was already edging toward the door, his eagerness to leave apparent.

  “Well, okay, then.” Becky still looked doubtful. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, look forward to it. Bye for now.” He slipped out of the hall, leaving Becky to turn back to Emma, Abigail, and Oscar.

  “Well,” Becky said, the frown lingering on her brow. “That was odd.”

  “He’s a nutbag,” Abigail pronounced succinctly.

  “Abigail!” Becky protested. “Rusty is my friend.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” the waitress continued, unrepentant. “But I have to say you’ve got a lot of hinky men friends. You should tell them all to get lost. No, you should. One way or another, they’re all unhealthy for you. Even that Martinez. He might be a cop, but he’s still weird around you. There’re all trouble.”

  A short, shocked silence ensued. Becky stared at the young woman as if she didn’t know her at all.

  Emma cleared her throat. “Abigail, if you’ve finished in the kitchen, you can go home now. You too, Oscar.”

  Oscar, who hadn’t said a word, tugged at Abigail’s arm. “Come on,” he muttered. As the two began to walk away, he said to her, “You shouldn’t have said that. You stepped over the line. You better watch your tongue if you want to keep your job.”

  At that, the young woman’s face fell, and she suddenly looked afraid and dejected as she trailed after the tall cook out of the hall.

  Becky rubbed her eyes tiredly. “What am I to do with her?”

  “Don’t worry about her yet. Let Oscar talk some sense into her first.”

  Becky sighed. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should tell all my ‘hinky men friends’ to stay away. Sometimes they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Emma and Becky walked out of the hall, Nick Stavros came bounding up, his face slightly flushed.

  “Sorry I took so long in the bathroom,” he said. Then he paused as he registered Becky’s somber expression. “Gee, I didn’t mean to make you wait. You must be mad with me.”

  “No, of course not.” Becky smiled, but it was clearly an effort. “It’s just that Rusty took a tumble from the stage.”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard. But he’s not hurt, is he?”

  “I don’t think so. He said he’s fine, and he’s already left with the band.”

  “I’m glad he’s okay.” Nick darted a look at Emma before tentatively looping his arm through Becky’s. “Why don’t I take you home?”

  Becky hesitated before turning to Emma. “What about you, Emma? Want us to stay with you until you leave?”

  “No, that’s fine. I won’t be more than five minutes, and Martinez is still around somewhere. You go on home now.”

  Emma waved goodbye and watched the couple leave the building. Becky, she noticed, was holding Nick’s arm and appeared to enjoy the closeness. In fact, Becky had had a great night with him. Emma couldn’t remember when last she’d seen her friend so happy in a man’s company.

  Emma walked back into the now deserted hall and gave it a final check. She mounted the stage and made sure that none of the band’s equipment had been forgotten. As she stood on the platform, she thought about Rusty’s fall and his assertion that Nick had pushed him. Glancing at the stage wing to the left, she noticed a side door. She walked over and opened it. The door gave access to a narrow corridor. To the right the corridor led to the main lobby of the WAC, to the left there were signs pointing to dressing rooms and the men’s bathroom.

  Hmm. The bathroom, which Nick had visited for a rather long time. It was quite feasible that Nick could have snuck onto the stage through the side door, then waited in the wings until Rusty was on the edge of the stage before rushing forward and pushing him. Then he could have escaped through the same door and hidden in the bathroom until the commotion was over.

  Emma shook her head at that bizarre scenario. She just couldn’t picture Nick doing something like that, even if he had given Rusty that dirty scowl during the party. Anyway, Rusty hadn’t seen who had pushed him; he’d only guessed it was Nick. Anyone could have used the side door to the stage, done the deed, and escaped unseen. That person could even have rushed back in as Rusty cried for help, pretending they’d been outside the hall the whole time.

  She shut and locked the side door, then descended the stage and left the hall, switching the lights off and locking the doors after her. In the main lobby she bumped into Martinez.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting his chin in greeting. “Everyone’s gone, and all the doors are locked. We can go now.”

  “Did you talk to Nick Stavros about Rusty’s fall?” Emma asked, her mind still plagued by the incident.

  “Yeah, but he was in the bathroom the whole time.” Martinez hitched his thumbs in his belt. “Personally, I think that Rusty was high on something and made the whole story up.”

  “High on something?”

  “You know these musicians. They like a bit of weed now and then
. He’s lucky I didn’t search him. I’m betting he was hiding a doobie somewhere.”

  Emma frowned. “I didn’t notice anything like that. And why would he pretend that someone had pushed him?”

  Martinez lifted his broad shoulders. “I dunno. Maybe he thought he could get Becky’s sympathy and draw her attention away from that vet guy.”

  She blew out a breath. Her brain was befuddled with too many questions, and her toes were beginning to ache after so many hours on her feet. All she wanted was to get home and go to sleep.

  “Well, I guess we’ll never find out the truth. At least he wasn’t injured too badly. Let’s go home, huh? I just have to pick up something from the office, and then we can leave.”

  In the manager’s office she grabbed the metal box that held the cash from the raffle that had been held, and walked with Martinez out of the building, locking its doors after them.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Martinez said.

  Emma hugged her winter coat closer to her as they walked across the deserted parking lot, grateful for the burly cop’s presence.

  “Do you think she likes him?” Martinez said as they reached Emma’s little white hatchback.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, pulling out her car keys.

  “I mean, he wears nice clothes and I guess he makes a decent living, but he’s kinda green, don’t you think? And he spends his days poking at cats and dogs. What kind of job is that? He’s on the puny side, too. I don’t know what she sees in him.”

  Ah, he was talking about Nick. “I’m sorry,” Emma said. “I don’t know what to say to you, Martinez.”

  “Nothing to say, I guess.” He gloomily motioned at her to get into the car. “Sometimes a man’s got to make the tough decisions.” He waited until she was safely in, then walked away, a strapping figure in the gloominess.

  She gazed after him, puzzled and a little uneasy. As she drove home, she tried to analyze her sense of disquiet. Too many unsettling things had happened in the past week. The gruesome death of Kieran O’Reilly. The tragic death of Wayne Goddard. Her near miss with that speeding white van. And tonight, Rusty falling from the stage. Coincidences happened, but so many in one week? But maybe she was over-thinking things. After becoming embroiled in the solving of several murders this year, maybe she was jumping at shadows, seeing something sinister when there was nothing. Maybe she just needed a good night’s sleep and in the morning the situation would seem different. She hoped so.