by Sarah Fox
Maybe Melinda really was sorting through her father’s belongings at the time, and maybe she came across evidence that Ida had been blackmailing her father. That would explain why she was so upset. It could also explain why she didn’t want to reveal the reason for her outburst. Her father had passed away, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t want to protect his reputation, to keep his secret as just that, whatever the secret might be. Perhaps she even blamed Ida for her father’s death. He’d died of a heart attack, after all, and if the threats from Ida had caused him great stress, then the blackmail could have contributed to his death. Even if it hadn’t, Melinda might think it had.
As I tapped my pen against my notebook, Flapjack gave up on the junk mail flyer and hopped up onto the windowsill behind the kitchen sink, settling in to groom himself. I watched him while only half seeing him, still thinking about Melinda. While I liked my latest theory, I had no proof, and I wasn’t yet sure how to find some. I considered taking my ideas to the sheriff, but I quickly discarded that thought. I wanted to get some sort of confirmation of my theory first, and to do that the person I needed to talk to was Melinda.
I hurried down to the beach, but Melinda was no longer there, her spot now occupied by a mother with two little girls who were digging in the sand with small plastic shovels. Next, I drove to Sheryl Haynes’s house, hoping she’d be home. When I rang the doorbell, I heard footsteps approaching, and seconds later Sheryl opened the door. She seemed surprised when she saw me standing on her front porch.
“Mrs. Haynes, is Melinda here?”
“No,” she replied slowly, “she’s not.”
“Do you know where I can find her? I was hoping to speak to her about something.”
“About what, exactly?”
I couldn’t blame her for asking. It wasn’t as if Melinda and I were friends. But I had an explanation ready, and I hoped it would suffice. “The morning of Ida’s death. I wanted to check with her to see if she’d noticed anything unusual while she was at Ida’s front door.”
“I’m sure she would have mentioned it if she had.”
“I suppose so,” I said, disappointed that I hadn’t come up with a better false explanation for wanting to see her daughter.
“But if you still think you need to speak with her, she’s working a shift at the grocery store this afternoon.”
My disappointment vanished, and I smiled at Sheryl. “Thank you.”
As I drove off, I noticed that Sheryl was still watching me from her front door. It occurred to me then that my new theory cast almost as much suspicion over Sheryl as her daughter. If Melinda had stumbled across a blackmail note among her father’s belongings, there was a good chance that her mother knew about it. I’d suspected that Sheryl had lied about the reason for Melinda’s outburst on Ida’s porch. Perhaps after coaxing Melinda away from Ida’s house, she had managed to get the reason for her anger out of her. If she’d been as enraged by the blackmail as her daughter—or even more so—she could have slipped around the back and confronted Ida, hitting her over the head in the heat of the moment.
I remembered what Sheryl had said about hearing running footsteps. Had she lied about that to deflect suspicion from herself and her daughter? I also recalled the way she’d spoken to me through the fence as if she thought I was Ida. That could have been an act.
As I pulled into a parking space across the street from the town’s grocery store, I tried not to get too far ahead of myself. First, I had to find out if there was a chance my theory could be right. I could have confronted Sheryl with my suspicions, but I figured I was more likely to get a telling reaction out of Melinda.
I jogged across the street and entered the cool interior of the grocery store, the automatic doors shutting behind me with a whoosh. I headed straight for the checkout counters, and it only took a second to confirm that one of the two cashiers on duty was Melinda Haynes. Although I’d bought groceries earlier that day, I decided to make my approach seem more natural so I wouldn’t put Melinda on alert right from the start. I made a quick trip down one of the aisles and grabbed a box of orange pekoe tea and a bag of pretzels—my favorite munchies. Passing through the produce section on my way back toward the checkout counters, I picked up a bunch of bananas.
When I approached Melinda’s station, the only person ahead of me was in the midst of paying for his two bags of groceries. Melinda handed him his change, and the man grabbed his bags before heading for the door. When I set my items on the checkout counter, Melinda’s eyes flicked my way and recognition registered on her face.
Although she didn’t seem pleased to see me, I smiled at her. “Hi, Melinda.”
She scowled and dragged the box of tea bags over the scanner.
“I’ve been thinking about the morning Ida died,” I said as I handed over my reusable grocery bag.
“Yeah?” she said without interest as she dumped my purchases into the bag.
“I was wondering if the reason you were so upset with Ida had anything to do with her blackmailing your father.”
Melinda froze. Her brown eyes widened for a second before narrowing into angry slits. “Who told you about that?” she asked in a low, menacing voice.
I ignored her question. “So she was blackmailing your father?”
“That’s none of your business!” Her voice had shot up in volume, and the neighboring cashier glanced our way, startled.
I handed over some money and Melinda grabbed it, digging viciously through the cash drawer for my change. She practically threw the coins at me.
“Does your mom know about the blackmail? Did you show her the note?”
Melinda lunged across the counter at me. I stumbled back into a shelf of gum and candy bars, barely escaping her hand as she tried to grab my arm.
She was seething now. “Get out of here and leave me alone!”
“Ms. Haynes!” a man’s voice boomed.
I edged farther away from Melinda, noticing Mr. Bell, the store’s manager, standing nearby.
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Bell directed the question at Melinda.
She glared at me. “Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “My office. Now.”
Melinda muttered swearwords under her breath as she stormed off.
“I’m so terribly sorry about that,” Mr. Bell said to me. “It was completely unacceptable.”
“I upset her,” I explained. “I was talking about her father. I should have realized that would be a sensitive subject.”
“Still, that’s no excuse for her outrageous behavior. Are you all right?”
I assured him that I was, and I declined his offer of a store voucher. As soon as I could, I hurried out of the store and shut myself in my car. When I gripped the steering wheel, I realized that my hands were trembling slightly. I’d expected Melinda to react emotionally if my theory was correct, but I hadn’t expected anything quite that extreme.
After taking a deep breath to calm myself, I pulled away from the curb and drove home. The fact that Ida had been blackmailing Mr. Haynes gave both Sheryl and Melinda a motive for killing her, and after my latest encounter with Melinda, I had no difficulty picturing her bashing Ida over the head with my antique lamp base.
Chapter 15
My encounter with Melinda Haynes remained on my mind the following morning as I set out for a jog through the residential part of town. I followed a gently curving, tree-lined street, passing charming Victorian houses and enjoying the smell of blooming flowers as I jogged by carefully tended gardens. Although I tried to lose myself in the fresh morning air and the steady rhythm of my footsteps, I couldn’t quite shake my thoughts free of Ida’s murder and the people I suspected might be involved.
I decided I should get in touch with Sheriff Georgeson to let him know that Ida had likely been blackmailing Mr. Haynes before his death. I didn’t know what other suspects the sheriff was looking into, and I wanted to make sure he knew about thi
s angle of the case.
When I reached the outskirts of the residential neighborhood, I looped around, following another shaded road toward the center of town. I slowed to a walk as I left the houses behind and entered the commercial district. Removing an elastic band from around my right wrist, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, wanting my damp curls off of my neck.
As I passed by an alley running behind a row of businesses, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I slowed my pace further when I realized that Deanna Paulson was standing behind a white stucco building, speaking with a dark-haired man. Stepping behind a smelly Dumpster so Deanna wouldn’t see me, I paused, my curiosity piqued by the expression of exasperation and furtiveness on her face.
“We weren’t careful enough,” Deanna said to the man, keeping her voice so low that I barely caught her words. “Mitch figured it out, and he wasn’t the only one.”
The man said something, but he was facing away from me and all I heard of his voice was a low rumble.
“No, we’re finished,” Deanna said, her words firm. “We all have our reputations to think about.”
The man’s voice rumbled indistinctly again. I peeked around the Dumpster and saw him reach out to touch Deanna’s face. She jerked away from his touch and stepped out of his reach.
“We’re done, Rex. My decision is final.”
I ducked quickly out of sight and broke into a jog. When I reached the next corner, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Deanna emerging from the alley, walking briskly, her mouth set in a thin line. Once I turned onto Main Street, I slowed to a walk again, checking the sign above the front of the white stucco building as I considered what I’d just witnessed.
Deanna and the dark-haired man had been standing near the back door of Dr. Rex Orman’s dental clinic. And considering that she’d called him by name, I had no doubt that the man with her was the dentist himself. I didn’t think I was jumping too far to conclude that Deanna and Dr. Orman were having an affair, one that Deanna had now brought to an end.
I glanced over my shoulder, in case Deanna was coming around the corner. I didn’t want her to see me lingering outside the dental clinic. She was nowhere in sight, but her son was. Gavin pushed his way out of the door of a small café and stormed down the street in my direction, a frown on his face. For a split second I worried he’d somehow seen me eavesdropping and was coming to confront me, but as he drew closer I realized he wasn’t looking at me. I wasn’t even sure if he was aware of my presence. He seemed caught up in his own world.
“Gavin,” I said as he almost strode past me.
He stopped short and focused on me for the first time. “Oh, hi…Marley.” His frown disappeared, but I got the sense he’d forced it away.
“Is that a good café?” I nodded at the small restaurant he’d just left.
He glanced back down the street. “I was just there visiting a friend who works in the kitchen, but yeah, it’s good.” He pushed his hair off of his forehead. “Sorry, I’ve got to be somewhere.” This time his smile seemed more genuine. “See you around.”
“ ’Bye.”
I watched him continue on down the street, wondering if he’d seen his mother with Dr. Orman from the kitchen of the café. That could explain his unhappy mood. Something else could too though, so I decided not to read too much into it.
Gavin now out of sight, I continued on my own way, taking my time as I walked along Wildwood Road toward home. Thinking back to the conversation I’d overheard between Deanna and her husband, I wondered if the affair was what she’d said she was sorry about. I also wondered if the Paulsons—or at least Deanna—had fallen victim to Ida’s blackmailing scheme. Taking the two conversations together, I thought there was a good chance that was the case.
When I reached home, I headed for the shower, still thinking as I massaged shampoo into my hair. If Ida was blackmailing a whole host of people, then every single one of her victims had a motive for wanting her dead. I’d identified three likely victims in addition to Chloe, but I had no idea how many more were out there, and there was always a chance that the killer was someone not on my list of suspects, someone I didn’t even know about.
With that frustrating thought still circling about in my head, I dressed and called the sheriff. When I got his voicemail, I left him a brief message, telling him that I believed Ida had been blackmailing Mr. Haynes as well as Kirk Jarvis, and possibly Deanna Paulson as well. I felt a twinge of guilt when I didn’t mention Chloe, but I kept my promise to her.
I couldn’t help but feel aggravated about the fact that I was no closer to identifying Ida’s killer. Even though I knew that the sheriff didn’t consider me a true suspect, my name hadn’t yet been officially cleared and Chloe could still end up under suspicion if anyone found out she was one of Ida’s blackmail victims. Aside from that, I didn’t like the thought of Ida’s killer on the loose. I might not have liked the woman, but she deserved justice, and the people of Wildwood Cove—myself included—wouldn’t be able to rest easy until the murderer was caught and locked away.
To have any hope of helping to make that happen, I needed more information. I needed to figure out which of my suspects belonged at the top of the list and which could be struck off it. At the moment, Melinda Haynes had the dubious honor of prime suspect in my mind, but there were still several other people to consider.
Kirk Jarvis was one of those people. If the rumors about his criminal activities were true, then perhaps it wasn’t such a stretch to think he was capable of taking violent action to eliminate his blackmailer. From my brief encounter with him, I knew he certainly wasn’t the jolliest of fellows. That didn’t make him a murderer, but I strongly suspected that he wouldn’t take kindly to threats from anyone.
Since I knew I wouldn’t be able to truly rest until I’d solved the puzzle of Ida’s murder, I decided to pay another visit to Kirk. I needed to know if he had an alibi for the morning of Ida’s death, or if he’d had an opportunity to kill her as well as a motive. I doubted that he’d be thrilled to have me show up at his shop to question him though, and the thought of doing so made me more than a little nervous, especially with my last encounter with Melinda still fresh in my mind.
I walked into town, but before reaching the junk shop, I paused outside the door to the law office where Lisa worked. Through the window, I could see her sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer. Deciding I wasn’t in a hurry to confront Kirk, I opted to pay my friend a visit.
“Hi, Marley,” Lisa said with a smile when she looked up and saw me. “What brings you here? Do you want an appointment with Mr. Ogilvie?”
Mr. Ogilvie had been my cousin Jimmy’s lawyer, and I’d met with him on several occasions since Jimmy’s death.
“No, I was just on my way by and wanted to say hi.”
Lisa glanced at the clock. “Are you busy? Because I could take an early lunch break if you want to get something to eat and hang out for a bit.”
“That sounds great,” I said.
“Okay, perfect. Give me two minutes.”
I waited in the reception area as Lisa typed another couple of lines and then disappeared into one of the inner offices to speak with her boss. When she emerged a moment later, she grabbed her purse and we were on our way. We decided to order our lunch from the fish-and-chips shop near the marina. Once we had our orders in hand, we settled on a bench that looked out over the water.
Tourists of all ages passed by us, some heading for the marina, others going in the opposite direction, toward the center of town. Seagulls circled overhead, crying out now and then, and the air smelled deliciously salty. Lisa and I dug into our meals of deep-fried cod and coleslaw. As we ate, we talked about her brother Carlos, who was undergoing treatment for drug addiction. I was glad to hear that so far he was sticking with the treatment program, something he’d failed to do in the past. I knew Lisa worried about him a lot, and it was nice to hear some hope in her voice when she spoke about him.
As we finished
off our meals, Lisa asked about the state of the murder investigation. I filled her in on what little I knew about the official one, and then I told her what I’d learned through my own efforts, without mentioning Chloe.
“I need to find out if Kirk Jarvis has an alibi,” I said to wrap up.
“How are you going to do that?”
“Either by talking to him or talking to the guy who works in his store.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? From what you’ve told me, he probably won’t like anyone poking their nose into his business.”
“I know. That has crossed my mind, but I’m not sure how else to move forward.”
Lisa finished off her last bite of fish, swallowing before speaking. “Take Ivan with you.”
“Ivan?” I hadn’t expected that suggestion.
“What better bodyguard could you have? He’s tall, muscular, and scary.”
“Ivan’s not scary.” I caught Lisa’s skeptical expression. “Okay, he can be a little scary.”
“No one will dare hurt you when you’ve got him to back you up.”
“True.” While she was right about that, I wasn’t too sure about asking him for that kind of help, mostly because I didn’t think he’d be impressed by the fact that I was conducting my own investigation.
“Promise me you won’t go see Kirk by yourself. Seriously, Marley, I really don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“I can’t argue with you there, so yes, I promise.”
Satisfied with my response, Lisa headed back to work. She walked toward Main Street while I perched on the top of a wooden fence, watching boats come and go as I’d done so many times during summers spent in Wildwood Cove.
With the hot sun warming my skin, I closed my eyes, taking a few minutes to simply enjoy the summer weather, the sounds of children laughing and seagulls calling, and the gentle, salty breeze. In time the heat of the day and my full stomach combined to make me drowsy, and I had to force myself to hop down from the fence and get moving. I didn’t know how Ivan would react if I asked him to accompany me on my trip to see Kirk, but there was only one way to find out. I knew which street Ivan lived on, but I couldn’t remember the house number, so I set a path for The Flip Side, where I had his address on file.
