“Fascinating,” said Amy.
“Let’s start over,” said Heather. “This is Amy Givens, and I am Heather Shepherd. We’re private investigators working with the Hillside Police on a case.”
She showed him her identification card.
“What sort of case?” The concierge asked. “Nothing happened here, did it?”
“We need to ask you some questions about a guest,” Heather said.
The concierge looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about the guests like that,” he said. “They all expect some privacy here. And you’re private investigators? We don’t ask whether people are cheating on their spouses. We like to think we’re an upscale hotel. But it does happen.”
“This isn’t about spousal infidelity,” Heather said. “This is about a murder.”
“A murder?” he asked. “And you think a guest did it?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Heather said, trying to be patient.
“I don’t know if I should talk about the guests,” he said, still unsure.
“A young woman was murdered—“ Heather started.
Amy cut her off. “It’s fine. We won’t talk about the guests.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“We wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” Amy said. “We can just talk about cars. I love cars. How about you? I bet you get some nice ones here.”
“We do,” he said. “A lot of them are nice but are still run-of-the-mill. But every once in a while we get a real beauty.”
“Did you get one recently?”
The concierge nodded enthusiastically. “There was a yellow Porsche convertible that a guest brought. It is so cool. I’d look at it through the window here and imagine what it would be like to drive it.”
“So, you’d notice it when it was in the parking lot?” Amy asked.
Heather smiled at her friend. Amy had a way of getting a witness to reveal information without realizing it. Amy also loved fast cars and knew how to keep a conversation going about them. Heather was confident that they would be able to find out about Rudolph Rodney’s alibi.
“Of course,” he said. “You couldn’t miss a car as nice as that. Especially with that bright yellow color.”
“Were you working here the night before yesterday?”
“Yes. I’m working here all the time while I’m on school break. I’m trying to get as many hours as possible.”
“Did you notice that car there that night?” she asked, casually.
“Yes,” he said. “It drove in at about eight forty-five.”
Heather almost breathed a sigh of relief, but then had to suck it back in as the concierge continued, “Then it left around nine p.m. and didn’t return until around one o’clock in the morning. That’s when the desk closes down for the night.”
“It was gone between nine and one?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Did I help you crack your case?”
“You helped,” she said. “You just didn’t tell us what we wanted to hear.”
Heather and Amy left the hotel, feeling frustrated. Instead of establishing his alibi, they had unraveled it.
“He lied to us,” Heather said.
“It doesn’t necessarily mean that he killed her,” Amy said.
They drove over to the police station to tell Ryan what they had uncovered. Hoskins joined them.
“I knew he was guilty,” Hoskins said.
“It does look that way,” Ryan said.
“And I did my own police work and found something else out.”
“You asked the people who lived near the road that led to the outskirts of town if they noticed any unusual activity?” Ryan said. “Like I asked you too.”
“I did talk to them,” Hoskins said. “And someone did see something unusual.”
“What was it?” Amy asked.
“They saw a fancy yellow convertible heading to the outskirts of town. Just like Rudolph Rodney’s car,” he said triumphantly.
“So, he was seen heading in the direction of the victim,” Ryan said.
“You shouldn’t use such a flashy car if you’re going to kill somebody,” Hoskins said.
“I can’t believe it,” Heather said. “He did do.”
Chapter 10
Ryan had no choice but to arrest Rudolph Rodney for murder. Heather and Amy consoled themselves with some donuts in Heather’s living room. Dave was begging for scraps like a pro and was so cute he was succeeding. Cupcake was sitting with Lilly in her room as she alternated between working on a story and petting the kitten’s ears.
“Do we have any good news?” Heather asked. “How was Jamie’s thing that he got dressed up for?”
“He didn’t end up going,” Amy said. “So his probably-nothing is a definitely-nothing.”
“I wonder what it was,” Heather said.
“I know you’re looking for another mystery because this last one was so disappointing, but you don’t need to investigate Jamie. I’m sure if whatever-it-is happens, it’ll be a surprise for me that I like.”
“You’re probably right,” Heather said.
Dave barked, announcing that the only surprise he would like was another bit of donut. Heather relented but made sure it was a small piece. Too many donuts were making Dave’s puppy waistline grow.
Heather sighed. “I guess I should start making un-moving plans soon. Undo the changes that I started when I was leaving.”
“Does this mean I can’t force you to do the things I was planning for on my fun-time-friendship list?” Amy asked.
“We can still do best friend activities together,” she said. “They just don’t have to be squeezed in as tightly now.”
“We can go back to saying we’ll do that eventually,” Amy said with a laugh.
“Exactly,” said Heather.
“We’re still watching Beaches soon though,” said Amy.
Heather smiled. Joking with her best friend was taking some of the sting away from what happened. Her move was going to be a big change, but she had been very excited about it. However, it also hurt her that both she and Roadkill Rodney had been so wrong about Rudolph.
She was about to protest the movie viewing for some more fun banter when they were interrupted. There was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” Amy asked.
“I’m not expecting anybody,” Heather said.
They went to the door and discovered someone they were expecting even less than “anybody” standing there. Cicada Katie was looking nervous.
“If you’re still investigating that murder, can I talk to you?” she asked.
Heather invited her inside. “You’re welcome to talk to us,” she said. “But we’re pretty sure we’ve caught our killer.”
“And you think it’s Roadkill’s uncle?” Cicada Katie asked.
“We do,” said Heather. “But this doesn’t reflect on Roadkill Rodney. I wouldn’t second-guess your relationship with him over this. We know him to be a stand-up guy.”
“And he and his uncle just reconnected,” Amy added. “They weren’t close before a few weeks ago.”
“And you and Roadkill Rodney already seem like a great couple,” Heather added.
“It’s not that,” Cicada Katie. “I’m not second guessing him at all. It’s just that I think I might be Rudolph Rodney’s alibi. I think I’m the reason he’s not telling you where he was. To protect Roadkill.”
“Protect him?” Amy asked. “Did he have something to do with the murder?”
“No. It’s nothing like that. To protect his feelings,” Cicada Katie.
“His feelings?” Heather asked.
“But when I heard you talking about the cleaning supplies this afternoon, I knew things were being seen out of context. I had to come forward. Even if I lose Roadkill. Because I can’t have you thinking someone is a murderer when they’re not.”
“We’re very confused,” Amy said, echoing what she and her friend
were feeling.
“I’m sorry,” Cicada Katie said. “Let me try and explain. Roadkill Rodney and I didn’t meet by accident. We were set up by a matchmaker. But Roadkill doesn’t know. He would hate it if he knew. But his uncle was worried about him being alone and being sad after his last girlfriend died, so he visited Maxine Matchmaker. I don’t know why they met so late, but they did. I know that he and Maxine met up late the night of the murder, but that they were making plans to have Roadkill and I meet. She called me in the middle of the night and told me I had to go to the hardware store that morning, and that Rudolph would invent a reason for Roadkill to be there. I had been waiting so long for her to find a match for me… I didn’t hesitate.”
“But why would Rudolph keep this a secret?” Heather said. “Admitting to seeing a matchmaker is a lot better than being accused of murder.”
“Don’t you see?” Cicada Katie said, with tears in her eyes. “If Roadkill knew that this was orchestrated, he wouldn’t be interested in me anymore. He loves the idea that we just met by chance. Rudolph would rather see his nephew falling in love from a jail cell than to be free to see his nephew feel depressed and betrayed.”
“I don’t see why the set up would be a deal breaker,” Amy said. “You both like each other.”
“But he wouldn’t like being tricked. I wouldn’t like it either. I know that by telling you, Roadkill won’t want to see me again. But I had to do what I thought was right.”
“Thank you,” Heather said.
She had to admit that even after hearing Cicada Katie’s story, she was confused. Was Cicada Katie telling the truth, or was she trying to cover for her new love’s family? Then there was the bigger question: if Rudolph Rodney really didn’t kill the waitress, then who did?
Chapter 11
“Does this mean you’ve found the real killer?” Rudolph Rodney asked when he was brought into the interrogation room. “I’m glad. I don’t want to stay in that cell anymore. I can’t believe you actually arrested me. I suppose things have to go by the book. You couldn’t show favoritism. Is everything settled now?”
“Far from it,” Ryan said.
“There’s still a ton of evidence saying you’re the killer,” Amy said. “But a little tiny bit of evidence saying maybe not.”
“Why would you lie about your alibi?” Heather asked him.
Amy took out the tablet to take notes on their questioning. The three investigators looked at Rudolph Rodney. He had refused to bring in a lawyer because he was so sure that the error that the police made would be cleared up shortly. Heather wasn’t sure if this was really what he believed or if it was some sort of ploy. This case was making her question everyone’s motives.
“What do you mean?” Rudolph Rodney said, looking away. “I told you where I was. I was at my hotel.”
“The concierge remembered your car,” Heather said.
“And I don’t blame him,” Amy said. “It’s a gorgeous car.”
“He saw you leave and not return until one a.m.,” Heather said. “We were inclined to believe that you were murdering Mindy Montrose at that time. Until Cicada Katie came to talk to us.”
“She’s a great girl, isn’t she?” Rudolph asked. “A little rough around the edges, but just like my nephew is. They’ll be great together.”
“Do you want to change your story about your alibi now?” Heather asked.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Amy said. “Admitting to visiting a matchmaker is a lot better than being accused of murder.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rudolph Rodney said, slowly. “But I hesitate to tell you the whole story.”
“Because of your nephew?” Heather asked.
“That’s part of it,” Rudolph admitted. “I was afraid that if he found out that I had arranged for him to meet Cicada Katie with the help of a matchmaker, he would rebel against the match. They’ve only known each other a day or two, but already you can see how they belong together. That was all I wanted for him. To not stay sad and alone and be in mourning forever. I wanted him to be happy when it comes time for me to return to Key West in the near future.”
“It might not be that near a future,” Ryan said. “You have been arrested for a woman’s murder.”
“You thought that if you told us your real alibi and that you were setting up a match for your nephew, it would ruin his chance at love?” Heather prompted. “You could have told us it was in confidence. We want to put the killer in jail. We don’t put matchmakers in jail.”
“Unless it was a really bad date,” Amy joked.
“Roadkill’s feelings were only part of the matter,” Rudolph said. “Did you speak to Maxine yet?”
“Not yet,” Ryan said. “But I will be visiting her this afternoon.”
“I might as well tell you it all now,” Rudolph said. “And then she can back my story up. You might be wondering why I visited her so late that night.”
“Actually, yes,” said Heather. “After nine o’clock at night seems rather late for a business meeting.”
She neglected to say that the timing of the meeting was one reason why she considered the possibility that Cicada Katie was lying. It was still possible that this new alibi was just a cover that a loving nephew and his new girlfriend concocted to save the accused.
“I didn’t see Maxine Matchmaker until close to eleven,” Rudolph said.
Heather was about to ask a question, but Amy jumped in front of her and asked, “Is that her real name?”
“I think it’s her business name,” Rudolph said. “But after the luck I was having, I wasn’t sure of anything.”
“Where were you between nine p.m. and eleven?” Heather asked.
“This is so embarrassing,” Rudolph said.
“If it will clear your name of murder, it’s worth telling us,” said Ryan. “And if we can really clear you, any information you can give might help us catch the real killer.”
“It’s just so hard to admit to my new business associates,” Rudolph Rodney said. “I might have been able to tell a cop I didn’t know. But I didn’t want you to question my judgment when you were trusting me as an investor.”
“I promise that whatever you tell us won’t be worse than my thinking you are a murderer,” Heather said.
Rudolph Rodney took a deep breath. “I was trying to make a match for Roadkill Rodney before I left Hillside. I wanted to meet a matchmaker in person instead of online, so I could make sure that they really understood who my nephew is. He does go by the name Roadkill, after all. I didn’t want him to be misunderstood.”
“So, you made an appointment to meet Maxine Matchmaker?” Ryan asked.
“I looked up all the matchmakers I could. I wanted to find the best, but there wasn’t a lot of information available. I made an appointment with her one afternoon later in the week,” Rudolph said. “And I made an appointment with a woman named Diamond the night of the murder. She wanted to meet at night, which I thought was strange, but I assumed it was because she was so busy with other clients and this must mean she was successful. I thought Diamond was a pseudonym but thought it was related to wedding rings and marriage. However, it turned out that it was just a false name because… Well, because the woman was… A lady of the night.”
“A lady of the night?” Amy asked, trying hard to conceal her laughter. She wasn’t sure what she found funnier: that Rudolph Rodney had made this mistake while trying to hire a matchmaker, or that he called her a “lady of the night” as a euphemism.
“Once I realized that she wasn’t a matchmaker but just wanted to be paid for… well, you know what. Well, then I left right away.”
“Was this on the outskirts of town?” Heather asked, thinking this might explain why the witness Hoskins interview saw the yellow convertible.
“Yes,” Rudolph said. “I probably should have realized when she wanted to meet in a remote location that this was a different sort of business than I was looking for. At the time, I thought it was to r
espect a client’s privacy.”
“It still sorta is,” Amy said. “Just different clients.”
“I was so embarrassed that I called Maxine Matchmaker right away to cancel my appointment with her. I didn’t want this sort of thing to happen again. I expected to leave her a phone message. However, she picked up and insisted that we meet right away. She knew I was upset. She didn’t want me to give up on finding Roadkill a match because of a silly setback,” Rudolph said.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Heather asked.
“I couldn’t tell you,” Rudolph said. “If it had been a cop I didn’t know, I might have been able to. But I didn’t want to admit my embarrassing mistake to my new business partners. I didn’t want you to think I was naïve or wasn’t a good judge of situations.”
“I guess I can understand,” Heather said. “But please, don’t hold anything back in a murder investigation again.”
“Do you think I’ll be involved in more of them?” Rudolph Rodney asked.
“Working with Heather?” Amy muttered. “Yes, indeed.”
Then Ryan said, “You’re still involved with this one. We’ll try and corroborate your alibi, but there is still strong physical evidence that ties you to the murder site.”
“I don’t know how to explain that,” Rudolph said. “I’ve just admitted where I really was that night. And I’ve never been to that young waitress’s house before. I never saw her outside of that restaurant.”
“Then that’s a good place to start,” Heather said. “I think we should ask some questions at Hannah’s Home Cooking.”
“Good,” Amy said. “I could use some home cooking.”
“And I could use some answers,” said Heather.
Chapter 12
Hannah of Hannah’s Home Cooking was a large woman who greeted them with a handshake covered in flour. Heather couldn’t begrudge her that. When she was in the kitchen of Donut Delights, she could end up covered in icing and sprinkles herself.
Peach Cobler Murder Page 4
