by Bobbi Holmes
“I don’t imagine you two have heard yet,” Danielle said as she sat down.
“What?” Lily asked.
“Darlene Gusarov is dead.”
“Seriously?” Ian asked.
“If Adam Nichols is to be believed. I was having lunch at the diner with Marie when he stopped by. He heard it on his scanner. She fell at Pilgrim’s Point.”
“What happened?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know the details. But from what Adam could pick up, sounded like someone hit her over the head then shoved her off the cliff. I haven’t turned the radio on yet, so I don’t know if the news has picked it up.”
“Wow…dead…Darlene…” Lily glanced to the kitchen window. She knew why the blinds were closed.
“And there is something else too,” Danielle stood up and shut the door leading to the hallway. When she returned to the table, she told them what Marie had said about Bobby Wayne.
“I’m a little curious too,” Ian said. “Are you serious about following him when he goes down to the cemetery?”
“Yeah. Considering everything that’s happened, I’d like to know if he’s in someway connected with the family.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ian said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone.”
“You think Will is dangerous?” Danielle asked, glancing from Ian to Walt.
“He’s been staying here almost a week,” Lily said. “I really like him.”
“I do too,” Ian said. “But it wouldn’t hurt us to proceed with caution.”
“I’m not planning on letting him see me, and if we both go, it’ll be more difficult to stay out of sight. I’ll be okay.” What Danielle didn’t want was Ian by her side should spirits from the cemetery start vying for her attention.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“I can explain Chief.” Brian sat at the table in the interrogation room. He had never been on this side of the interview before.
“Your fingerprints were on the murder weapon,” the chief said as he sat down at the table.
“You think I would just leave it there if I’d used it to kill Darlene? I told you, it was sitting on her purse. I thought Darlene had put it there, to weigh it down so it wouldn’t blow away.”
“You’re telling me, you thought she just set her purse on the side of the road and left it, with a paperweight to keep it safe?”
“No.” Brian combed his fingers through his hair. “That’s not what I meant. Everything happened so fast. When I saw her car, the purse and she wasn’t there—I got worried. I checked to make sure it was her purse. I didn’t even notice the blood. The killer must have left it.”
“Explain again why you were there?”
“Darlene asked me to meet her.”
“You said she called you. What did she say exactly? Why did she want you to meet her there?”
“I don’t know.” Brian shook his head.
“You said you talked to her on the phone. She must have said something.”
Brian looked up into the chief’s eyes. “It wasn’t exactly a phone call.”
“What was it, a carrier pigeon?”
“It was a text message.”
MacDonald extended his hand, waiting for Brian to hand him his phone. With a reluctant sigh, Brian handed over the phone. Quietly MacDonald read the text messages. When he finished he looked up and stared at Brian, as if seeing a stranger.
“I can explain Chief. It isn’t as bad as it seems.”
“Go ahead.” MacDonald set the cellphone on the table.
“Darlene and I had an affair. It was brief. Ended over a year ago.”
“She said you almost broke her arm?”
“She was exaggerating. I grabbed her wrist. It was at Pearl Cove. I was there having a drink, she came in to have dinner. I went over to her table, and we got into an argument. I swear, I never got violent with Darlene.”
“What were you arguing about?”
“She wanted me to make sure Boatman went to jail for killing Stoddard. But after Smith attacked Joe and Boatman, I knew Danielle hadn’t killed him. And I started wondering…if maybe it was Darlene all along. I wanted to know if she’d sent a hitman after one of my best friends. And by what Joe found in Darlene’s rental, it looks like I was right.”
“Were you still in love with her?”
“No.” Brian shifted nervously in his seat.
“Are you sure?”
“Okay, I had some unresolved feelings for her. But we weren’t seeing each other, and I didn’t kill her. I just wanted to know what she had to say.”
“Why did she accuse you of getting violent?”
“I don’t know. But ask Carla, she saw the entire thing. She’ll tell you it was no big deal.”
“Carla?”
“Carla, the waitress from Pier Café. She’s working part time at Pearl Cove as a hostess. She was there last night. I noticed she kept looking over at us.”
“Did you see anyone else there?”
“I wasn’t really looking. I was pretty focused on Darlene—wondering if she was behind Smith.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I was going to. Honest. But first, I wanted to be sure. You have to understand, I really didn’t want to go public about my affair with Darlene. But I would have. She kept begging me not to say anything to anyone about it.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve read Stoddard’s will. Darlene could have lost everything if you came forward about the affair. Stoddard had a provision in the will stipulating she’d be disinherited if she was ever unfaithful during their marriage. Had you made the affair public knowledge, it would have complicated things for her, since the will just went into probate.”
“She never told me.”
“I’m going to put you on paid leave.”
“Why?” Brian sat up straighter in the chair.
“This is an ongoing investigation, and right now you are the lead suspect.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Brian said dully.
* * *
Carla sat across the table from Chief MacDonald in the interrogation room.
“I can’t believe she’s dead; I saw her just last night,” she said.
“How well did you know Darlene Gusarov?” the chief asked.
“I really didn’t know her. Oh, I knew who she was. She came into the café sometimes.”
“Tell me about last night. How did Mrs. Gusarov seem?”
“She seemed fine when she came in. She was meeting Mr. Christiansen and some other man for dinner. I took her to her table. I remember she ordered a couple martinis before Mr. Christiansen arrived.”
“So nothing unusual happened?”
“Unusual? Well…” Carla lowered her voice and glanced over at the two-way mirror. “Officer Henderson was there.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to whisper. Officer Henderson isn’t here; he’s gone home.”
“Well,” Carla said in a clearer voice. “He was in the bar, having a drink when she came in. He went over to her table, I assumed to say hello. But then they got in this argument.”
“Argument? Do you know what about?”
“No. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could tell Mrs. Gusarov was embarrassed, she wanted him to leave.”
“How could you tell that?”
“By the way she kept looking around. Like she was worried people were staring.”
“Were people staring?”
“Well…no…there really weren’t many people in the restaurant yet.”
“What happened?”
“At one point he grabbed her. That’s when it really got heated.”
“Did you ever consider going to her table?”
“Go to her table, why would I do that?” Carla frowned.
“Well, if one of your customers is being bothered by another customer, don’t you think it’s your job to do something?”
“But he’s a police officer! I figured it wasn’t any of my business.”
“Okay, after he grabbed her, then what?”
“She pulled away from him, rubbed her wrist like it really hurt. Gave him a dirty look. A few minutes later Mr. Christiansen and the other man arrived and by the time they got to the table, Officer Henderson had left.”
“You said it wasn’t very busy last night. Do you remember who was there during Darlene and Officer Henderson’s argument?”
“No…not really…” Carla considered the question a moment. “But everyone paid by credit card. Does that help?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. About an hour after Mrs. Gusarov’s party left I remember ringing up a customer’s ticket and thinking it was the first cash sale of the evening.”
“I’d like to get a list of the customers who were there last night, during the time Mrs. Gusarov was at the restaurant.”
* * *
“Thank you for coming in,” MacDonald greeted Chuck Christiansen, shaking his hand.
“I can’t believe she’s gone. I just had dinner with her last night.” Chuck sighed wearily. He followed MacDonald down the hall to the interrogation room.
“I hope you don’t mind if we talk in here,” MacDonald said, opening the door for Chuck. “It’s more private.”
“This is fine,” Chuck said, walking into the room. He took a seat at the table. MacDonald sat across from him, a notepad in hand.
“You mentioned you had dinner with her last night?” MacDonald asked.
“Yes. Bart Haston and I.”
“Bart Haston?”
“He manages the Western Division,” Chuck explained.
“So was this a business dinner?”
“Yes. We’ve been trying to get Darlene up to speed on what’s going on with the company. She was never involved when Stoddard was alive.” Chuck took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. “I can’t believe she’s gone. What happened exactly? They told me she fell from Pilgrim’s Point. How did that even happen?”
“We’re not sure exactly. The coroner hasn’t finished his report yet, and we’re still processing the crime scene.”
“Crime scene? I thought it was an accident?”
“It’s an open investigation. We’ll be able to tell you more later. But for now, could you please tell me how Mrs. Gusarov was last night. Did she seem concerned about anything?”
“She was rather upset about her run in with Brian Henderson.”
“Run in? What do you mean?”
“Before we arrived at the restaurant Henderson approached her table. According to Darlene he had too much to drink, got a little forward.”
“Forward?”
“Apparently, he felt Darlene was ready to start dating. And he wanted to be her first date.”
“Are you suggesting he made a pass at Mrs. Gusarov?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just telling you what Darlene told us when we arrived at the table. She was upset, claimed Henderson got forward with her—even grabbed her. I offered to come down here, talk to you about it. After all, he is one of your officers.”
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t want to get Henderson in trouble. Insisted he simply had too much to drink. But she seemed genuinely afraid of him.”
“What was her and Stoddard’s relationship like?” the chief asked.
“Stoddard? I’m not sure what that has to do with what happened last night.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Well,” Chuck shifted in his seat. “They’re both dead now. I feel strange talking about them.”
“Yes, they are both dead. Under more than questionable circumstances.”
“They had their problems. All married people do.”
“Do you think Darlene was happy in her marriage?”
“I don’t know…” Chuck stammered.
“You suggesting they weren’t happy?”
“I know Darlene was furious over the Lily Miller situation. She blamed Stoddard for the legal problems, insisted she didn’t know it wasn’t Isabella. But honestly, I can’t believe she didn’t know. Stoddard confided in Darlene.”
“Do you think she was angry enough to kill him?”
“I hate to say this, especially with Darlene dead now, but when I heard he’d been murdered my first thought was that Darlene had done it. Then I heard Stoddard supposedly told Henderson it was Danielle Boatman…but now…” Chuck shook his head.
“Now what?”
“Now I have to wonder. Were Henderson and Darlene in this together? I read about Sargent Morelli seeing Danielle Boatman at the time of the murder. She couldn’t have killed Stoddard. Henderson must have lied about what Stoddard said. Which means they had to be in this together; after all, Darlene was there too when he supposedly accused Boatman.”
“You’re saying Officer Henderson and Darlene conspired to kill Stoddard?”
“How can I not wonder that? Maybe she planned to pay him off. Maybe it was something more personal between them. All I know is they had a fight last night, and today Darlene is dead.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ian didn’t insist on accompanying Danielle to the cemetery, providing she agree to send him regular text messages to let him know everything was okay. When Danielle arrived at the cemetery she parked by the chapel. There were more cars in that area and she felt Will would be less likely to notice the red Ford Flex there, as he had parked around the corner.
After locking her car, she stood in the parking lot a moment, mustering her courage. It wasn’t Will who made her apprehensive, but the spirits lingering nearby.
Before leaving home, Danielle had changed into denims, a gray T-shirt, and dark gray hoodie. The late afternoon sea breeze cooled the air. Standing by her car, she pulled the hood of her jacket up over the back of her head, covering her braid. She had left her purse under the driver’s seat, and tucked her car keys and cellphone into the hoodie’s pocket along with her hands.
Making her way to the walkway leading to Karen and Isabella’s gravesite, Danielle watched for Will. If necessary, she would duck behind a tree; there were plenty in this section of the cemetery.
Passing a number of grave markers, Danielle rounded a corner and almost stumbled over an elderly woman who knelt by a grave. Coming to an abrupt stop, Danielle looked down.
The woman turned her head and smiled up at Danielle. “You again. I was hoping you’d stop by.” It was Chief MacDonald’s grandmother. The woman had died a year earlier.
“Hello Kathy,” Danielle greeted. “By any chance, did a man wearing a cowboy hat pass by this way?”
“Why yes. He was carrying some lovely flowers. Roses. Red roses. I love when they bring flowers.” Kathy stood up and pointed in the direction of the Strickland graves. “He took them down there. When he came back, he didn’t have the flowers anymore.”
“So he’s already been there,” Danielle said under her breath. “Where did he go when he came back?”
“Down there.” Kathy pointed in the direction of the walkway leading to the side street, where Will had parked his car.
“That was quick. He didn’t stay long,” Danielle said more to herself than Kathy.
“I see you didn’t bring flowers.” Kathy sounded disappointed.
“No, but I will next time, I promise.”
“How is my grandson?”
“He’s doing well. I understand he’s seeing a lovely woman who his boys like.”
“I was rather hoping he was seeing you.”
“Me?”
Kathy shrugged and knelt back down by the grave and began brushing imaginary leaves from the marker. “Perhaps later when the other one doesn’t work out.” Kathy disappeared.
Danielle smiled and shook her head before hurrying down the walkway toward the Strickland graves. At least now, she didn’t have to worry about running into Will, since he had already made his visit. If she found flowers on Isab
ella and Karen’s graves, she would have her answer.
Danielle stopped a moment and pulled her cellphone from her pocket to send a quick text message to Ian: No worries. Will has already left.
Slipping her cellphone back in her hoodie pocket, she headed down the path leading toward Isabella and Karen’s gravesites. Off in the distance she spied a couple going in the opposite direction. Aside from the two people, the cemetery seemed deserted. She wondered who belonged to all the cars parked by the chapel. Perhaps they were attending a funeral, yet she thought it seemed rather late in the day for a service.
She came to Stoddard’s grave first. His marker hadn’t yet been set. Next to his site was an empty plot, which she assumed was intended for Darlene someday. Who would have thought that day would be so soon?
Danielle wasn’t surprised that Stoddard or Darlene weren’t lurking around. She knew Stoddard was busy haunting the grounds of Marlow House, while Darlene probably wouldn’t show up at the cemetery until her funeral—or maybe not at all. As far as Danielle knew, Stoddard’s murdered wife may have already moved on.
Walking past Stoddard’s grave and then his parents, Danielle came to the gravesites of Isabella and Karen.
“Oh my,” Danielle gasped when she spied the red roses on Isabella’s grave. For some reason she expected to be wrong—expected to learn that Will Wayne was not Bobby Wayne. But he was. Kneeling down to Isabella’s grave, her fingertips brushed gently over the red buds. She noticed Isabella’s marker had been set. It wasn’t here the last time she had been at the cemetery.
Glancing at Karen’s grave, she noticed there were no flowers. Frowning, Danielle wondered why Will hadn’t divided the roses between the two graves. There were no wilted and dying blossoms scattered about, which either meant this was the first time Will brought flowers, or someone from the cemetery’s landscape crew had already removed them.
She couldn’t feel Isabella’s presence and had never felt Karen’s. Both women had probably moved on to their next destination, wherever that might be. She thought briefly of Kathy MacDonald and wondered why she remained at the cemetery. Perhaps Kathy was waiting until her grandson remarried.
