“I don’t think the citizens of Port Ariel want a human for a sheriff right now. They want a superhero.”
“Can you blame them? They’re scared.”
“You don’t seem scared, even after your visit to The Blue Lady.”
Natalie flushed. “Can we please forget that appalling lapse of good sense? I’m not usually such a fool. And for the record, I’m just as scared as everyone else.”
“And you’re also full of questions about the murders.”
“Maybe now isn’t the time for me to be asking questions.”
“Because I sound like I might blow into a million pieces? I won’t. I never do. And it might help me to talk about all of this. Actually I have a few questions of my own.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Quid pro quo? You trust my assessments even after our meeting at The Blue Lady?”
“No one shows perfect judgment all the time.” Nick smiled. “Not even me.”
“I’m glad you can be forgiving. Okay. What can I tell you?”
He leaned forward. “Did you know Warren Hunt was involved with Charlotte Bishop?”
She shook her head. “Lily can’t—couldn’t—stand him and I think she suspected affairs, but she never mentioned anyone in particular. Frankly I’m shocked to hear about him and Charlotte.”
“Why?”
“Warren was a nice-looking man, a professional, but Charlotte was beautiful and rich and fresh out of a marriage to a gorgeous television star. Warren Hunt seems a bit mundane for her.”
“I thought the same thing. About Warren being boring after what she’s used to, not about Paul Fiori being gorgeous.” She made a face at him. “So you have no idea how long they’ve been seeing each other?”
“Certainly not when Charlotte was in California. The affair must have started after she came back to Port Ariel just a few months ago.”
“Do you think Lily knew about it?”
“No. If she had, she would have told me.”
“You’re absolutely sure? Maybe she was being discreet.”
“Lily is not discreet, particularly around me,” Natalie said wryly. “Now it’s my turn. Were Warren and Charlotte murdered like Tamara?”
“Yes. Throats slashed. As of now it looks like the same or a similar weapon was used. A long-bladed razor. We found Warren in the living room or whatever they call it on a boat. He’d been murdered on deck, though. Charlotte was in the bedroom.” He paused. “On the wall was written in blood, ‘open tomb.’ ”
Natalie drew a sharp breath. “ ‘Their throat is an open tomb.’ The Biblical quotation the woman said on the phone and in the dance pavilion.”
“Do you know where in the Bible the quotation is from?”
“I’m not a Bible scholar, but she told me it was Romans. She even said the chapter, but I don’t remember. I was going to look it up at home, but I couldn’t find Dad’s Bible. I don’t know if he even has one. He’s never been particularly religious. Do you happen to have one?”
Nick rose from the table. In a moment he returned with a large, battered Bible. He handed it to Natalie. When she flipped it open, she saw a list of births and deaths recorded in various shades of faded ink. The last was for Meagan Marie Lincoln Meredith. She quickly riffled pages until she came to Romans. She began scanning pages and after only a couple of minutes she said, “Here it is!”
“That was quick.”
“It’s in chapter three, in italics, no less! Must be bad.”
“Read it to me. I’m so tired my eyes are blurry.”
Natalie read slowly and clearly:
“ ‘There is none righteous, no, not one;
There is none who understands;
There is none who seeks after God.
They have all gone out of the way;
They have together become unprofitable;
There is none who does good, no, not one.
Their throat is an open tomb;
With their tongues they have practiced deceit;
The poison of asps is under their lips;
Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness.
Their feet are swift to shed blood;
Destruction and misery are in their ways;
And the way of peace they have not known.
There is no fear of God before their eyes.’ ”
Nick sighed. “Well, that was cheerful.”
Natalie frowned. “The reference to their throats being open tombs is obvious because all the victims had their throats slashed. But what about ‘they have practiced deceit’? Warren and Charlotte were deceitful, but Tamara? She was probably the most honest person I’ve ever known.”
“It says none seek after God. That could mean none of the victims was religious.”
“I don’t know about Warren and Charlotte, but Tamara was a devout Catholic. ‘Destruction and misery are in their ways,’ ‘There is none who does good.’ You could apply those lines to Warren and Charlotte, but not Tamara. Nick, nothing in this quotation fits Tam.”
“I guess finding the motive for these killings so easily was too much to hope for.”
“Maybe these are motiveless murders.”
“I’ve always thought the phrase ‘motiveless murder’ was stupid,” Nick said. “No murder is without motive, not even the murders committed by serial killers. They have motives, although often those motives don’t make sense to the average person.”
Natalie was quiet for a moment. “But you don’t believe this is the work of a serial killer.”
“No, I don’t,” Nick said slowly. “I’m not even convinced the three murders were committed by the same person.”
“But you said they were all killed the same way.”
“Yes, but Charlotte and Warren were killed with more savagery. They each have multiple stab wounds besides those to the throat. Tamara didn’t.”
“So you think there might be two killers?”
“Maybe.” He paused. “I have another question for you to answer. Lily and her father didn’t like Warren.”
“That’s not a question.”
“No.” He paused. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Warren’s alibi for the night of Tamara’s death didn’t check out. He claimed to be at a bar having a drink with a woman. She corroborated his story, but I thought she seemed nervous. She sounded as if she’d practiced her story. She also made the mistake of volunteering too much information. One detail she mentioned was the name of the bar. I checked. The owner had died and they were closed the night Warren was supposed to have been there. That’s why I was trying to find him this morning.”
Natalie’s face froze. “You think he might have killed Tamara?”
“Considering his affair with Charlotte and the lack of an alibi, yes.”
“But how does that explain his murder?” Natalie’s lips parted as realization dawned. “You think Warren might have murdered Tamara, Lily and Oliver suspected, so one of them murdered him?” She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. I’ve known Lily most of my life. She’s not as gentle as Tamara was, but she could never deliberately hurt anyone.”
“And Oliver?”
“No. I mean, he wouldn’t murder someone. He just couldn’t . . .”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound as sure of yourself as you did about Lily.”
“I don’t know him as well. Well, I really don’t know him at all. He’s rather cold and formal. I don’t believe I’ve ever had a real conversation with him even though I was a friend of his daughters.”
“And those daughters probably sounded a lot alike. Especially on the phone.”
“You’re back to the anonymous call I got after finding Tamara’s body. Nick, Lily was at her father’s when I got that call. I told you I tried to reach the number of the caller but I was blocked. I’ve called Lily at Oliver’s, though. My father’s number is not blocked from Oliver’s phone.”
“He might have more than one phone line, Natalie. Many people do now with fax machines an
d the Internet.”
“Lily would not make a call like that or hang around The Blue Lady dance pavilion trying to scare me. What would be the purpose?”
“Maybe as soon as her sister was murdered, she knew who did it and she planned revenge. She thinks you know her so well she might give something away, so she’s trying to frighten you into going back to Columbus.”
“That’s really stretching things. Besides, what about the person on the phone saying ‘their throat is an open tomb’ and ‘open tomb’ being written on the wall of the Charlotte just like in the note that was left with Tam’s body? It’s the same person using the same phrase.”
“Is it? Lily saw that note and she knows you saw it. By the time you got the anonymous call, I’d had time to tell her and Oliver I thought it had been left by the murderer. By repeating the phrase, she could be covering her tracks by making you come to the conclusion you just did—that the same person who left the note on Tamara also called you, hid in The Blue Lady, and killed Warren and Charlotte.”
Natalie stared at him as she absorbed his speculation and realized it did make a kind of sense. But she wouldn’t accept it. “Nick, this all must seem perfectly plausible to you, but it’s just absurd if you know Lily. She isn’t capable of murder.”
“Profound grief and shock can make you capable of things you never imagined.”
“Not murder. Not Lily.”
“If you did think Lily might have murdered Warren and Charlotte, would you tell me?”
Natalie glanced down at her hands. They were slim with long fingers and short, unpainted nails. The creamy pearl in her ring seemed to glow. Tamara had always loved the ring.
Natalie lifted her gaze to Nick’s. “If I thought someone had committed cold-blooded, premeditated murder—even Lily in revenge for Tamara—I would tell you. I’d have to. I couldn’t let someone so dangerous walk around free.”
Nick nodded. “Good. You know the people involved in this case. I’d like to believe I can count on you for information.”
“That makes me uncomfortable. These people are my friends.”
“One of them could be a murderer. Maybe not Lily. Maybe it’s Oliver, and Lily is just lending her voice to the project.”
“That’s almost as bad.” Natalie’s face set stubbornly. “No, stumbling on information is one thing, but I won’t be a spy.”
“I don’t want you to be a spy,” Nick said earnestly. “I don’t want you to divulge anything about these people’s private lives that doesn’t directly pertain to the murders. I wouldn’t ask for any information of you, but I need help.”
“You? The big-city detective?”
“Please don’t plaster that local stereotype on me. The people in this town elected me sheriff, then they seemed to resent me because I come from New York City. I don’t understand it.”
“They elected you because they thought you had more knowledge and experience than anyone else running for the position. At the same time, a lot of them are intimidated by that expertise. And some, like Max Bishop, are simply used to calling the shots with guys like Purdue. I don’t think that man made a move without first clearing it with Bishop.”
“I know all about Purdue. I also know that some people think I run too tight a ship. And I admit to being a hard-ass lately. But Natalie, this department was a mess. I had to pull things back in line, institute some order.” He sighed. “However, just because I was on the N.Y.P.D. doesn’t mean I’m omniscient. I know investigative techniques, and I’m good at my job if I do say so myself, but I’m not a damned psychic.” He leaned forward. “We have had three brutal, bizarre murders in less than three days. I’m afraid we’ll have more. That’s why I need all the information I can get. Can’t you see that without getting up your hackles because you think I’m persecuting your friends?”
She twisted her ring, catching her lower lip between her teeth as she studied the salt and pepper shakers on the table. “You’re right,” she said reluctantly. “I know these people better than you do and I can’t deny there’s a connection among the killings. In that case maybe I can help in some small way.” She raised her dark gaze. “So I’ll keep my eyes and ears open but only for the sake of justice.” She grinned. “God I sound sanctimonious!”
“Only to you.”
“I doubt that.” She frowned. “I’m having some trouble with guilt, but as long as I’ve agreed to offer information, I guess there is one other person I should mention. Alison Cosgrove. She’s Viveca Cosgrove’s daughter. Viveca has been seeing Oliver Peyton for a couple of years. Alison is twenty-one or -two and she’s deeply disturbed. She’s been under psychiatric care for years. Lately she’d been seeing Warren professionally, but Lily thought Alison had a fixation on him.”
“Do you believe she’s right?”
“Lily is pretty perceptive and I trust her judgment. If she thinks Alison had a thing for Warren, I’m sure she did. Anyway, earlier this evening I was speculating about all of this and . . .”
She looked troubled. “Go on,” Nick urged.
“Well, you’re the professional. I don’t want to sound silly. But I wondered if Alison could have killed Tamara because she thought Tamara stood between her and Warren. Then she could have found out that Warren wasn’t interested in her but in Charlotte. Maybe she followed him and saw them meet on the boat.” Nick stared at her and she felt color coming to her cheeks. “It sounds outlandish—”
“It sounds perfectly reasonable, particularly if this Alison is as disturbed as you say. Why isn’t she in a hospital?”
“She’s been in and out of them ever since she was five. She’s also been heavily medicated until recently.”
“Why not now?”
“Because Warren was a psychologist, not an M.D. He can’t write prescriptions.”
“Then why was Alison seeing him?”
“Lily said Alison insisted on being treated by Warren.”
Nick leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “Well, I’ll be damned. You just put a whole new spin on this case.”
“I feel like I just committed slander.”
“You merely presented a theory in a confidential context. You stated nothing as fact and I’m certainly not going to descend on Alison Cosgrove, although I’ll be watching her. Do you think she’s capable of imitating Tamara’s voice?”
“I’m not sure. Alison’s voice is higher and more childish than Tam’s, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t alter it. She’d certainly heard Tam’s voice enough. Lily’s, too. They weren’t that different.” She sighed. “Now I’ve just implicated two people.”
“You didn’t implicate anyone.” Nick gave Natalie a long, direct look. “I know you’re not a gossip. You only told me anything because you thought you should. That makes you invaluable to me.”
That’s not all you are to me, Nick almost said, but of course he couldn’t. He wasn’t even sure he meant it. He was exhausted and in need of some reassurance. She was beautiful and kind and smart. But he hardly knew her. Use your head, Nick, he reminded himself. Keep it light.
“One other thing,” he said quickly. “Mrs. Bishop said that before Charlotte left the house last night, she was waylaid by a young slender man with dark blond hair. Does that sound like anyone you know?”
Natalie shrugged. “It could be a lot of people. No one immediately springs to mind.”
“How about the guy that was in Lily Peyton’s shop yesterday morning?”
“Now that you mention it. He said his name is Jeff Lindstrom.”
“What does he do?”
“I have no idea. He said he’s here on vacation.”
“Staying where?”
“I don’t know. He was headed for Trudy’s Diner for breakfast, though. Maybe he struck up a conversation with someone there.”
Nick smiled. “Dr. St. John, you are a gold mine of information.”
“Only one of my many fine qualities.” Natalie stood abruptly. “I should be going now. My father i
s under the impression that I’m fifteen and he’ll probably be calling to check on me, which would be too embarrassing to endure.”
“A concerned father is always a concerned father.”
“So he keeps telling me. But I hope when Paige is an adult, you give her a little more leeway than my father does me.”
“I’ll try, but I’ll probably be a complete pain.”
She laughed. “Tell Paige I had a wonderful time with her.”
“I will and thanks for staying.”
“I suppose I’ll see you at the funeral. I’ve read that police come to funerals of murder victims to see if the killer might turn up to get a big thrill out of the whole thing.”
“The only problem is that if they’re getting a thrill, they usually don’t look like it. Natalie, I’d rather Lily didn’t know the real reason why I’m coming to the funeral.”
“I won’t have to tell her—she’ll already know. She won’t come up to talk to you about the case, either. She’ll stay out of the way.” She frowned. “Alison is another matter.”
“She’s attending?”
“Viveca says she wants to and Alison gets what she wants. She might sit like a stone and behave herself. Or she might make a scene and have to be taken away. Or she might play Lois Lane and come up to interview you.”
“Oh, God,” Nick moaned. “I vote for the stone.”
“Don’t count on it.”
He trailed behind her to the front door. He wanted to say something clever, but the only thing he managed was, “Sure you can make it home after all that milk?”
“I think so. It didn’t have nutmeg in it, remember?”
“Nutmeg. I’ll have to try it.” Well, you’ve certainly impressed her with your witty repartee, he thought gloomily. As she strode to her car, though, one more comment burst from his mouth. “Do you really think Paul Fiori is gorgeous?”
She turned, her silky hair swinging over one shoulder, and winked at him. “Absolutely irresistible.”
He shook his head. “I knew it. Too much milk.”
III
“Tell me again what they looked like. Warren and Charlotte, I mean. No, wait a minute. I wanna see this.”
Ted Hysell sighed and glanced back at the television. Eddie Salvatore leaned across the table, his brown eyes smoldering in his chiseled face. “So you don’t know nothin’ about this murder that went down today, I got that right, Ice Pick?”
Don’t Close Your Eyes Page 17
