Murder at Royale Court

by G. P. Gardner

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes. Yes.”

  Oh-my-god, the chorus chanted. His face was just inches away. I turned my head and he slid closer.

  “Self-defense,” he said again and again, almost sobbing.

  A voice boomed behind us. “Hands in the air! Stand up and move apart.”

  Someone was approaching from Skinny Alley, too. Suddenly, my arms were nearly ripped off my body, wrists tugged together and wrapped with zip ties.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Todd was saying, frantic and wide-eyed, as his hands were trussed up in similar fashion.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Wozniak said, his bright little rat eyes scrambling to watch me while a big cop manhandled him.

  “Catch her,” someone shouted.

  I don’t know who caught me, but it was a soft landing.

  I’ve never fainted in my life and didn’t then, but the rest of the evening was a bit of a jumble. I distinctly remember going up steep, shiny steps into a brightly lit ambulance, where I was checked over by medical people. I assured them I was fine but I couldn’t remember when Riley got there.

  Mary Montgomery stood over me at one point, blocking the light and agreeing that I was fine. She handed me my phone. “It was in the flowers. Just a little damp.”

  “I’ll drive,” I recall Todd volunteering, but Riley said I’d be going with him.

  “You bring her car.” He asked for my key fob and passed it to Todd.

  “Does he have a license?” I asked, but nobody was listening to me.

  Nita and Jim were waiting at my apartment with food, and Nita and Ann insisted I eat a few bites while Todd told them what had happened.

  Jim ate without being encouraged. “Have you still got that bread pudding?” He went to the kitchen.

  I took a long, hot shower that left me so limp I could barely stand. I was sitting on the side of the bed, telling Stephanie what had happened, when Riley took the phone and told her I was fine, just tired and a little confused. “She won’t be alone,” he promised her. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

  “Take the guest room,” I said, and plowed into bed.

  Hours later, I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I came out, Riley was waiting, wearing sweatpants and a black T-shirt but no shoes. He tucked me into bed again without disturbing Tinkerbelle and went back to the guest room. But I couldn’t get back to sleep. I thought about families—my daughter, and Riley’s sons—and relationships, about the difference between administrative positions and social work, with all its strict prohibitions, and about unexpected twists of fate and how abruptly lives could end. And finally, after tossing and turning and changing my mind half a dozen times, I slipped out of bed and went to the guest room, too.

  * * * *

  I awoke hearing conversation. It was almost seven and Ann and Riley were out on the porch, discussing breakfast. When I’d dressed, we went next door.

  Ann’s round table was full of food and surrounded by people who showered me with hugs and questions about everything that had happened. Ann bustled about, passing dishes and pouring coffee.

  I was starving. I ate while I told them what I remembered of Terry Wozniak’s confession, still putting details together as I talked.

  “He knew Devon Wheat was buying Royale Court and assumed Wheat was wealthy. So when Wheat told him about the Bugatti Royale, Wozniak insisted on getting in on the deal. Then Handleman came along and said it was all a scam, and Wozniak went back to Wheat to demand his money back.”

  “How did Wozniak know Royale Court was being sold?” Nita asked. “Even Ann didn’t know.”

  “From the Colony,” Usher guessed. “He spent a lot of time there, snooping.”

  Ann agreed. “Wozniak thinks he’s a real estate tycoon.”

  Nita’s eyes narrowed. “Vickie Wiltshire says he fed her a lot of tips.”

  “Not illegal,” Jim said, defending the pretty lady. “She got him some good buys in return.” He topped a big stack of Ann’s pancakes with whipped cream and berries.

  Usher wiped whipped cream from his fingers. “Wozniak asked me where Devon’s money came from. I told him I didn’t know he had any. I wonder if that broker will tell me how much is in the escrow account.”

  “I think we’ll find that some of it came from the Bugatti scam.” I was thinking of Travis’s investment. “It might go back where it came from.”

  “I can assure you of that,” Ann said. “Whatever’s in escrow goes right back. When Olivia gets here, we’ll start all over and decide if we want to sell.”

  “Just think—a worldwide fraud, right here in Fairhope.” Dolly sounded so proud.

  I hated to disappoint her. “But it didn’t necessarily originate here. Devon Wheat might’ve been conned himself.” I thought about Wozniak. “Self-defense. Wozniak said that several times.”

  Riley rested his arm across the back of my chair. “I guess Wheat couldn’t accept the idea he’d been scammed, and attacked the messenger.”

  Jim agreed. “When Wheat collapsed, probably with a crushed windpipe, Wozniak dragged him to the bathroom and went back to dig around in the office. I’ll bet he gave Wheat cash and thought it was still there. And when he went back to the bathroom…” He snapped his fingers. “Wheat was dead.”

  Nita covered her eyes.

  Riley looked at Ann. “I think Wozniak took that invitation from Wheat’s office and accidentally left it in your shop when he stopped to remove the camera.”

  “Where is the camera?” Usher asked.

  “Gone.” Jim was emphatic. “You can count on that.”

  “So Wozniak was the Thursday night prowler.” I turned to look at Riley. “Looking for the invitation Ann had already brought home.”

  Riley nodded. “And that’s why he missed most of the final lecture.”

  The group fell silent, thinking. After a minute, Riley squeezed my shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  Stephanie called and I went out to the porch to talk, telling her I was fine, just having breakfast with friends, and I’d talk with her later. But she started crying, saying they had to go to Boyd’s parents’ home for Thanksgiving. “We promised last year, Mom. Dad says he’ll meet us there and I want you, too.”

  “We’ll talk later,” I promised and finally got away. No way was she talking me into a family holiday with Travis. But before I got back to the table, who should call but Travis himself. I went out again.

  “You okay?”

  I told him the important points and ended with money. “I just heard Wheat has some funds in an escrow account. Maybe you can get your money back.”

  He sputtered. “I don’t give a damn about that, Cleo. Stephanie says Wozniak killed Devon Wheat and tried to choke you!”

  “Stephanie is a drama queen. It was Todd who choked me.” I smiled, realizing how that sounded. “Wozniak just grabbed my arm and took my phone. But I got it back and I’m fine. Really. Just having breakfast with friends.”

  “That’s good.” He sounded confused. “Really good. So…who’s got this escrow account?”

  He was so predictable. I promised to find out, and prepared to click off.

  “Another thing—where’s Handleman? Still there?”

  “He’s leaving today, I think.”

  “You’re at Julwin’s? With that sweet little server?”

  We were nowhere near Julwin’s, but I gave his imagination free rein. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”

  “Do something else for me. Ask Handleman if he’s interested in a quick trip to Alsace in April. Tell him to call me.”

  “What? You’re still thinking there’s a car? Travis, that’s crazy.”

  He laughed but sounded embarrassed. “Can’t hurt to find out. Just give him my number.”

  I turned my phone off. When I got back inside, Riley stood and held my cha
ir. What a sweet man I’d miraculously found. The song started up in my head, reminding me of my recent encounter in the guest room. My cheeks felt a little warm. I caught Nita’s gaze from across the table and smiled at her.

  I went to the office a little later, talked with everyone there and, between visitors, began getting my work organized and back on track.

  Handleman came to say good-bye and we sat in the lobby to have coffee.

  “Wikipedia says there’s a seventh Royale,” I said.

  He smiled and shook his head. “A replica. Not twenty years old. I know a guy who worked on it.”

  “Travis wants you to go with him to Alsace in April. He said you should call him.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, we talked already. I’m looking into it. Vickie Wiltshire found a furnished apartment for February. That’s usually our coldest month at home.”

  “Ha! Vickie Wiltshire has an apartment any month you want to come. She’ll give up her own place if necessary.”

  We walked back to Patti’s desk and Handleman returned his key.

  “How’d you like the guest suite?” she asked. Within seconds she was telling him about how she’d like to redecorate it. She even knew the ideal apartment for him. “It faces east, so there’s morning sun and you can use the screened porch in the evening. Unlike Cleo.”

  Handleman was rapt. There were five little turtles on the driftwood.

  When Stewart stopped at my office later, I asked him, “Do you know anything about Patti’s turtles?”

  He grinned slowly. “That girl’s crazy about turtles. And my pond’s full of them.”

  I rolled my eyes and wondered.

  Riley met us for lunch in the dining room and said he wanted me to meet someone at five. “Can we come to your apartment?”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Just let it be a surprise,” he said. “Can I borrow your door key?”

  And it was a surprise. Riley and Michael Bonderant were waiting when I got home. Bonderant was the decorator who’d done Nita’s apartment.

  As we shook hands, I told him, “I love what you did for the Bergens.”

  Bonderant was looking around my apartment and sniffing. “But you obviously hate color. Gray and white and black, everywhere! Even your lingerie.”

  “You looked at my lingerie?”

  He smirked. “Do you have a favorite color?”

  “Anything but red. Or yellow. I wear a lot of beige and white in the summer.”

  “Of course you do. Now, what’s your favorite piece in the Bergen apartment?”

  “I like a lot of things. The lighting, the painting in the dining room, the tree with twinkle lights. But my favorite thing is that thick rug angled across the living room.” I rotated my hands, indicating the angle.

  Bonderant smiled like it was a trap. “And what color is that rug?”

  I shrugged. “Sort of red but it works there, with all the mahogany and green.”

  He smirked and looked around a little more, measured the hanger space in my closet, and left.

  “What a snob,” I said.

  Riley pulled me into a hug. “Be kind. He’s got a tough job.”

  “Decorating is a tough job?”

  “He’s going to do something with Todd’s house. See if he can make you like it.”

  I pulled away. “Todd’s house? You’re the one who’s buying it?” I pictured the dark living room, recalled the musty smell, and shook my head. “No wonder Vickie didn’t want you advising Todd. You could’ve talked him into anything.”

  “We’re going to need a bigger place, Cleo. And for your information, I accepted the listing price without negotiating. You don’t need to worry about my ethics. Now, on another topic, what would you think about Thanksgiving in Savannah?”

  “Savannah?” I perked up. Now that was my idea of a nice surprise. “I love Savannah. We could go to the Johnny Mercer House.” I hesitated. “But it’s a long drive from here.”

  “Yes.” He sighed and smiled. As if distance were the main attraction.

  Ebook Exclusive: ANN SLUMP’S FAIRHOPE SCARF

  Sts = stitches

  K = Knit

  P = Purl

  YO = Yarn Over

  P2 tog = Purl 2 sts together

  Needles two sizes larger than usual for the yarn.

  DIRECTIONS: Cast on 39 sts.

  Knit 5 rows for the bottom edge.

  ROW 1:*K4, (YO, K1) 5 times, then YO again, K4*

  Repeat from the * to end of row.

  ROW 2:Purl across. (57 sts)

  ROW 3:*P2 tog 3 times, then P7, P2 tog 3 times*

  Repeat from the * to end of row.

  ROW 4:Knit across. (39 sts)

  ROW 5:Knit across.

  ROW 6:Purl across.

  Repeat Rows 1 - 6 until the scarf is as long as you want.

  Knit 5 rows for the top edge.

  Bind off loosely.