by Angela Henry
I looked at the paper with the front-page headline blaring, Shop Owner Found Dead in Shop. May Have Surprised Vandal. My name was mentioned in the article. I shoved the paper back across the desk at her and changed the subject.
“Allegra has been cooperating. Why would you think she’s holding something back?” I suddenly felt uneasy. Had something else come up?
“Your sister stated in a television news interview last night that Vivianne DeArmond told her she had exciting news to announce to her fans. In all the interviews we’ve done with your sister, she never once mentioned this to us. Now, if she’s held that back from us, I’m wondering what else she hasn’t told us. That is, if what she said on the news is even the truth.”
I got up to leave. Not because Harmon had pissed me off, but because I was beginning to wonder if she could be right. I knew my sister wasn’t a murderer, but could she be lying about something?
“I can see I’m wasting my time, Detective. The person who murdered Vivianne is still out there, probably thinking they’ve gotten away with murder, while you look for ways to pin this on my sister. I guess this is my tax dollars at work,” I said and stalked off.
I called Allegra on my cell when I got to my car, but she wasn’t answering her phone. Then I called Carl at work and was told he was in a meeting. As I drove to the store to pick up groceries for the dinner I had to cook for Rollins that night, I drove past the Holiday Inn and saw Kurt Preston heading to his car. Impulsively, I pulled in the lot, parked and called out to Kurt. He acted like he didn’t hear me and started walking faster.
“Hey, Kurt,” I said, catching up to him as he unlocked the driver’s-side door.
“What do you want?” I noticed he had his Ninja Dude sunglasses on again.
“I’ve been thinking. Do you think it’s possible that Noelle, you know, that woman you don’t know, could have gotten desperate for cash to pay off a gambling debt and killed Vivianne herself to increase the value of her memorabilia? I think the police might be interested in Noelle’s little problem, don’t you think?” Harmon had dismissed the memorabilia angle but Kurt didn’t know that. I expected him to try and hit me, but he sagged against the car instead.
“How do you know about…She’s no murderer. She’s got a serious problem but she’s never hurt anyone to get money.” He took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. He was crying.
“Where is Noelle, Kurt?”
“I don’t know. She got her hands on that money Cabot gave us the other day and I haven’t seen her since. I think she may be off gambling someplace.”
“I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”
“She was doing really good for a long time. But she’s been under a lot of pressure at work. That whole mess with Hollywood Vibe and Ross Abbott is the reason we can’t go public with our relationship. Ross Abbott is my best friend.”
“My sister told me people think Noelle had something to do with her predecessor getting fired.” Kurt shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and looked off into the distance.
“She did have something to do with it, didn’t she?”
“No! Look, Noelle and I met in rehab. I fell in love with her. When we met she was just an assistant producer at Hollywood Vibe. I think she thought with my father being who he is that I could help her with her career. I’m just a has-been with a drug problem. My father and I don’t even like each other. One day when I was hanging at Ross’s crib, I got an idea of a way I could help Noelle get ahead at Hollywood Vibe. So we got one of Ross’s exes, who was sleeping with Hollywood Vibe’s executive producer, Bob McLean, to feed him that info about Ross being bald, short and not having any teeth. They took that story and ran with it. Then Ross sued and got a big settlement, Noelle’s boss was made a scapegoat and got fired, Noelle got her boss’s job, and I got Noelle. Everyone made out like a bandit, but—” he said, shaking his head.
“But the job turned out to be more than she could handle, and she relapsed and started gambling again?”
“Noelle is superambitious but that job of hers is really running her into the ground.”
“And you felt guilty about putting her in that position and sold Vivianne’s stuff to get money to help pay off Noelle’s debts.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t kill Vivianne. I’ve been taking stuff from her for years. When I was kid, my dad made me spend two weeks every summer with her. She never took me anywhere. We never did anything fun. She wouldn’t even give me any money to do stuff on my own. I started stealing stuff from her and selling it. Back then it wasn’t worth much except some pocket change. Now, her stuff’s worth a mint. Seems ole Vivi has built up quite the cult following over the years.”
“Stephanie was telling me about Vivianne having an affair with Harriet’s husband. Do you know if Harriet knew about it?”
“If she didn’t, she sure as hell knows now.” Kurt laughed.
“You told her?” I asked, trying hard to contain my excitement.
“Dad dragged me here for that recognition program in order to help him butter Vivianne up so she’d take that part in The Wiz. I went to her house to ask if she’d loan me some money. She told me no as usual and we got into an argument. Then Harriet jumps in it and starts calling me a horrible son and saying how I should have a job. I just snapped. I told her she shouldn’t be taking up for a woman who fucked her husband.”
“What did she say?”
“Vivianne just stood there with her mouth hanging open. Harriet called me a filthy liar and told me to get out and never come back. I left.”
I wondered what Harmon would say about that. I tried calling her but she was out, of course.
I pulled into the grocery store parking lot and was about to get out of my car when someone pounded on my driver’s-side window. I almost wet my pants. It was Lynette’s mother, Justine, and she didn’t look happy.
“Hey, Ms. Martin. What’s wrong?” I asked cautiously. But I knew by the way she was eyeing me, like she was trying to figure out where it would hurt the most if she hit me, that she’d found out about Lynette.
“Well, let’s see, Kendra. My daughter is supposed to be getting married in three days and she’s up and run away. You and Greg didn’t even bother to tell me. I’m her mother. I would have liked to have known. We have people arriving from out of town on Friday, not to mention the rehearsal dinner, the caterer, photographer and the DJ to deal with. We’ve got a deposit on the reception hall that’s nonrefundable. I have no idea what to do. No one’s heard from her. Why the devil wasn’t I told about this!” She tossed her long, manelike weave over her shoulder. The harsh morning sunlight was not doing Justine any favors. I could see wrinkles fanning out from the corners of her eyes and her foundation was caked in the creases of her neck.
“I’m so sorry, Justine. Greg and I thought she’d be back by now,” I offered weakly.
“Y’all thought wrong. I knew that silly gal was going to mess this up. I kept telling her ass she wouldn’t be able to hold on to a good man like Greg.”
Lord forgive me. I just couldn’t hold my tongue. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you tell her that? She’s under enough stress over this wedding. Why would you put more pressure on her by saying things like that? Sounds like you don’t want her marriage to work out. No wonder she ran off.” I though Justine’s head might start spinning around.
“Now, hold up. Who are you talking to like that? I know you’re not trying to jump bad with me, young lady. Not you of all people,” she said, shaking a ring-laden finger at me. What in the world was she talking about?
“Me of all people? Is that supposed mean something to me?” I said, jumping out of the seat and slamming my car door behind me. Justine took a step back on her too-small high-heeled mules.
“It should. You’re the last person who should be talking. The whole town knows about what you’ve been up to. Running around on that nice lawyer. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Ashamed of what?”
�
�You were seen, Kendra. You and Morris Rollins were seen coming out of the Heritage Arms together. Everyone knows. It’s all over town.”
“We were looking for Lynette!” I screamed.
“How dare you drag my daughter into your dirt, you little liar.” She turned on her heel and started to tip across the parking lot into the store then stopped and turned to yell at me. “And if you hear from Lynette, tell her if she’s not back by Friday morning I’m canceling that wedding of hers, and she can get the hell out of my house since I’m causing her so much stress.”
I was aware that people were staring at me and whispering. I got in my car and got the hell out of Dodge.
I was tempted to go home and hide but thought better of it. After all, I hadn’t done a damned thing with Morris Rollins. I was going to kill Lynette when I finally caught up with her. I knew Mama was ready to kill me, since she was firmly plugged into the Willow gossip network and had probably caught wind of the rumor. I decided to steer clear of her. Thank goodness, Carl, although he spent a lot of his time in Willow, actually lived in Columbus and was pretty oblivious to town gossip. I wondered what people would say if they knew I was having dinner with Rollins that night. I wondered what Carl would say. Would he even care?
I headed to Perkins and had a big breakfast of pancakes, sausage and eggs and finally read the issue of the Springfield News-Sun that Harmon had waved under my nose at the station that morning.
SHOP OWNER FOUND DEAD IN HIS SHOP.
MAY HAVE SURPRISED VANDAL.
Forty-eight-year-old Donald Cabot, owner and proprietor of Cabot’s Cave, a store specializing in movie memorabilia and collectibles, located downtown in the marketplace, was found dead in his shop Tuesday evening. Officers were called to the scene by Kendra Clayton of Willow after she arrived at the shop for an appointment with Donald Cabot and found Cabot’s body on the floor. Police theorize that Cabot may have surprised vandals in the process of wrecking his shop. Cause of death is not immediately known and, though the autopsy results are not expected until tomorrow, Cabot’s mother, Viola Cabot, has told police that her son suffered from a serious heart condition.
I couldn’t believe it. Not one mention about the masked man that chased me or about Kurt Preston being present at the scene. Did they think I’d just made the whole thing up? I also didn’t think the store had been broken into by vandals. I only saw one person—the masked man—who must have been looking for something. But what? I slammed the paper down on the table, knocking over my orange juice in the process and splashing it on my white shirt. I tried to mop up the spill, only succeeding in making a sticky mess. I’d have to go home and change.
I pulled in front of my apartment at the same time as Allegra, who was carrying a McDonald’s bag. She was wearing a white denim pantsuit, trimmed in gold studs, and gold sandals. The girl even dressed to the nines to go get a Big Mac. Unbelievable.
“Mama just called me looking for you. She wants you to call her. She sounded pissed off about something. Did you puke on yourself?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at my stained shirt as we climbed the steps to my front door.
I mumbled a terse, “No.” I was relieved I’d left my cell phone at home. I wasn’t looking forward to talking to Mama. I wondered if it was about Rollins or if Justine Martin had called and blabbed about our argument in the parking lot. Either way, the call would have to wait.
I started to unlock the door, but it was already unlocked and ajar, which didn’t fully register until Allegra pushed past and walked in ahead of me. I followed, ran smack into her and started to angrily shove her out of my way, when I saw what had stopped her in her tracks. My apartment was a wreck. It looked like a bomb had gone off. There were clothes everywhere, even hanging off my ceiling fan. Allegra dropped her bag.
“What the hell!” I yelled. I kicked my way through the pile of clothes on the floor to the center of the room and ran around the apartment. Allegra was rooted to the spot. My bedroom was a mess, as well. The closet door was wide open and clothes and boxes had been pulled out. The kitchen had a few cabinets opened and some plastic containers were scattered on the counters. The bathroom was untouched. As far as I could tell, nothing had been taken. At least, nothing of mine.
I walked back into the living room to find my sister silently picking up her designer duds from the floor. Her Louis Vuitton suitcases, which she never fully unpacked since she was constantly running back and forth between my place and Mama’s, had been emptied and lay in front of the couch. I noticed every single flap and pocket had been unzipped and unsnapped. Allegra remained strangely silent.
“Are you missing anything?” I asked absently as I searched the mess for my phone. I figured her silence was due to the theft of one of her precious high-end possessions. She remained silent, avoiding eye contact. Then it hit me, and I whirled around to face her.
“It’s you, isn’t it? Whoever broke in here was looking for something you had! Answer me, Allie!” I screamed when she still wouldn’t say anything.
She sighed, threw down the shoe she been clutching and sat down in my rocker. “All right! Yes! Are you happy?”
“What do you have that someone would break in here to get?”
“Had, Kendra. Whoever broke in took it. It was a check. It was in my suitcase,” she said sullenly.
“A check?” I cleared a space on my couch and sat down.
“Yeah. When I walked into Vivianne’s dressing room and tripped over her purse, I picked the purse up, and something fell out of it. It was a check. Then I found Vivianne’s body and the fire alarm went off. I dropped the purse and I ran. When I got outside I realized I still had the check with me. I wasn’t about to go put it back. I was too scared to tell the police. I knew they’d think I stole it.” She had good reason to be scared. I’d inadvertently walked off with something from a crime scene once and Harmon had threatened to arrest me.
“What was the check for?”
“It was a check for five thousand dollars from a Diamond Publishing Company in Columbus for an advance against royalties for a book Vivianne had written.”
“Do you think this was the exciting news Vivianne had for her fans?” I asked. Allegra just shrugged.
“Any idea what kind of book she wrote?”
“No. But the check referred to the title—The Onyx Man.” Allegra jumped out of the rocker and started pacing nervously. “What if the police find out about that stupid check? They’ll arrest me for sure. I don’t want to go to jail,” she wailed.
“Calm down, Allie, I won’t say anything.” I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing but figured since the check was now gone, there was no real reason to tell the police. And if I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d actually start believing it.
“Not even Carl, Kendra. You can’t tell him, either. Promise me you won’t. He was really mad about me not telling him about touching Vivianne’s purse. If he finds out about the check, he’ll freak.”
“I promise not to tell Carl. You didn’t tell anyone else about the check, did you?”
“Just Noelle. She got all excited and wanted me to hand it over but I wouldn’t. She probably wants to get an exclusive story out of it for herself for Hollywood Vibe.”
Noelle. Of course! She had to be the one who broke in here to steal the check. She must have been the one on Mama’s back porch that night. Allie had been staying with Mama that night and had all her stuff with her. Noelle must have taken the check to try and cash it to cover her gambling debts. She must really be getting desperate. Allegra had mentioned that she thought Noelle had resorted to stealing to feed her habit. I didn’t let Allegra in on my little theory. Instead, I called the police, who came and took a brief statement and suggested I get my locks changed, and Allegra and I cleaned up my apartment.
CHAPTER 10
A couple of hours later, Allegra left for Mama’s, but not before I made her promise to say she hadn’t seen me and didn’t know where I was. I got on the phone to information and got the nu
mber for Diamond Publishing Company in Columbus. As I dialed, I wondered how I was going to get them to tell me what I wanted to know.
“Diamond Publishing. This is Alison. How may I help you?” said the cheerful voice on the other end on the line.
“This is Harriet Randall, Vivianne DeArmond’s assistant,” I said in my haughtiest voice. “In light of her recent death, I need information regarding Ms. DeArmond’s book.” When I heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“Please hold, Ms. Randall, while I put you through to our editor.” I heard ringing which was promptly answered by another irritated female voice.
“Ms. Randall, this is Margo Diamond. I told you when you called yesterday that I couldn’t give you any information about Ms. DeArmond’s book over the phone. When you can provide legal documentation proving that you are the executor of Ms. DeArmond’s estate, then I will gladly provide you with the information. Until then, I’m sorry, but our hands are tied.”
I said a quick, “Thank you,” and hung up.
Someone had already called about Vivianne’s book. Was it really Harriet or was it Noelle? Why would Noelle call about the book? If, as I suspected, she was the one who stole the check, then why bother about the book? Unless Allegra was right and she was trying to get info about the book for some kind of story for Hollywood Vibe. For that matter, knowing how ambitious Allegra is, she could have been the one who called. But if it was actually Harriet who called then that could mean she didn’t know what Vivianne’s book was about. That could also be the reason Vivianne hadn’t told her assistant about her interview with Allegra. She didn’t want Harriet to know about the book. I couldn’t help but wonder what in the world The Onyx Man was about. And was there something in that book that Harriet Randall would have killed Vivianne over? I decided to find out.
