by Bobbi Holmes
“How do you know they argued?”
“I had to ask Steve a question, and it couldn’t wait. I hated to interrupt him, but I had no other choice. But when I got to the door, I could hear them shouting at each other in Steve’s office.”
“Did they say anything to you?”
“You mean when I heard them shouting?”
“Yes.”
“No. I don’t think they knew I heard them. I went back to my desk and tried to figure out the problem on my own. I wasn’t about to walk in on that.”
“How did Mr. Huxley seem when he came out of the office?”
“Actually, he seemed fine. Like nothing had happened. They both seemed perfectly calm. It was weird.”
“Had you ever heard them fight before.”
“No…but…”
“What?”
“I usually answer the phones at the bank. Not always. If I’m with a client and one of the tellers is free, they will. But over the last couple of months there’s been a few times when Steve told me that if Mr. Huxley called, to tell him he was in with customers—even when he wasn’t. I thought that was odd, since I knew they were friends.”
“But you only heard them argue that one time?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“You mentioned you liked Mrs. Klein. Did you see her often?”
“Just when she’d come into the bank, or we’d have some company get-together. She’s really nice. Everyone at the bank likes her. She’s nice to all of us.”
“Do you think she ever knew her husband hit on you?”
Susan groaned and scooted down in her chair, embarrassed. “I sure hope not. I would hate for her to think I ever did anything to encourage that. And I did nip it immediately.”
“Do you think Steve cheated on his wife…after he hit on you?”
Sitting back up straight in the chair, she pondered the question a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe they were just having problems back then, and I sent the wrong message. Who knows? I was new at the bank at the time, and maybe I was trying too hard to be friendly and fit in. Maybe he got the wrong impression.”
“So Steve didn’t have a reputation around the bank for fooling around on his wife?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. And I certainly never said anything to anyone. I was too embarrassed.”
“Did they seem like a happily married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Klein?”
Susan smiled. “Yeah, actually, they did. Which is one reason I wonder what was going on back then when I first started working at the bank. When that happened, I hadn’t met his wife yet, so I didn’t know what to expect. And when I finally met her, she was nothing like I imagined.”
“What do you mean?”
“They seemed so happy together. When we’d get together for bank functions, they’d often hold hands, stuff like that.”
“Did you ever get the feeling Mrs. Klein suspected her husband might be fooling around?”
“I don’t think he was. I mean, I know that one time he made a pass at me. But generally, Steve was always very professional. He did everything by the book at the bank. And they did seem happily married. I always got the feeling his wife adored him, and if he ever cheated on her, I really don’t think she ever knew. She acted like a woman who loved and trusted her husband.”
“But you said he hit on you when you first went to work there?”
“I never heard any of the other women at the bank complain about him. So maybe it was my fault. Maybe something was going on in his life back then, and I sent the wrong message.”
“Why does it bug the hell out of me that Susan Mitchell makes excuses for Steve?” Brian asked the chief after Susan left the station. “We know he was a player.”
“You think she was right? Did his wife have any idea he was seeing Carla?”
“I don’t know.”
“If I hadn’t talked to Steve about his affair with Carla after Jolene’s murder, I might start to wonder if maybe Carla was a midlife-crisis thing. His first affair.”
“If he hit on Susan when she first went to work for him five years ago, then it obviously wasn’t his first time,” Brian reminded him.
“I know it wasn’t. Not how Steve talked to me.”
“How wouldn’t his wife know her husband was a player? Don’t wives often turn a blind eye to their husband’s infidelity to make their marriage work? How wouldn’t you know?”
“When did you figure out your wife was cheating?”
Brian didn’t answer immediately. “Okay, you got me. I was clueless. I had absolutely no idea she’d been fooling around for over a year until she filed divorce papers.”
“So maybe we need to take a closer look at this Baron Huxley. We know he gave Steve the tamales, and we know he argued with him the day before Steve died. Why don’t you find out what they argued about.”
Brian stopped by Baron Huxley’s house on the way home Monday night. But Huxley’s car was not in the driveway, yet there was a new for sale sign in front of his house. He tried calling Huxley’s cellphone, but there was no answer, so he left a message for Huxley to call him.
Thirty-One
Lily paused at Danielle’s open bedroom door a moment, looking in, before making her presence known. She watched as Danielle stood at the dresser, looking into the mirror, weaving her hair into a neat fishtail braid.
“It always amazes me how you make that look so easy,” Lily said as she entered the room.
With both her hands holding onto strategic strands of hair, Danielle glanced to Lily and smiled, and then looked back in the mirror. “After doing it for so long, it’s almost second nature. I’ll confess, I’ve been considering getting my hair cut.”
Now standing next to Danielle, looking into the mirror with her, Lily frowned. “You wouldn’t. You have beautiful hair.”
“I would hope she wouldn’t,” Walt said when he suddenly appeared. He sat on the foot of the bed, watching the two young women.
Danielle glanced over her shoulder to see where Walt had landed. “Morning, Walt.”
“Where is he?” Lily glanced around the room.
“He’s sitting on the end of the bed.”
“Hmmm…” Lily looked to the bed. “Do you always just barge in Danielle’s room like that?”
“He does. I have no privacy.” She sighed melodramatically. Putting the final touches on her braid, Danielle looked into the mirror. She could see her bed, but she couldn’t see Walt. It didn’t surprise her. Ghosts had no reflections.
“Do you think Antoine Paul’s sister left for Vancouver yet?” Lily asked Danielle a few minutes later when the two women walked into the hallway, Walt trailing behind them. They headed for the staircase.
“She told me she was going to leave this morning. Yesterday, when I first saw her, she was getting ready to check out.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that.” Lily held onto the railing as she started down the stairs.
“But I guess she felt emotionally drained after our talk yesterday and decided to spend another night and take off this morning.”
“Do you think it helped, talking to her?” Walt asked. “Did you learn anything that might put you in a better position to convince her brother’s spirit to move on?”
“I’m not sure.” Danielle paused a moment, her hand on the railing. She considered Walt’s question and then started walking again. “He didn’t sound like a horrible person. Not like someone who would strangle a woman in an alley. He took in his sister when their parents died, helped her get into college.”
“And she said he wasn’t violent?” Lily asked as she stepped onto the first-floor landing, followed by Danielle and then Walt. The three headed for the kitchen.
“He had a temper, but she said he was never violent, but he could get really sarcastic.”
“As I recall, he did call you ghost girl,” Walt reminded her.
“Considering everything that’s going on, I’m not even sure I should be worried about his spirit
anymore. Chris saw him just that once, and Heather hasn’t been bothered again. He mentioned something in front of Chris about wanting to get to me when I was away from Marlow House, but I’ve been all over town this last week and never saw him once. I would have figured he would have showed up at the Seahorse Motel, with his sister there.”
“Maybe he’s moved on.” Lily led the way into the kitchen.
Ian joined Lily and Danielle for breakfast that Tuesday morning. The three sat at the kitchen table while Walt lounged by the counter on the other side of the room, smoking a cigar. Initially he had been sitting at the table with them, but the glare Danielle flashed him after a lit cigar appeared in his hand made it very clear to him she did not want cigar smoke at the table while they were eating.
“I learned something interesting last night,” Ian said as he spread peach jam over his toasted English muffin.
“Yes? What’s that?” Danielle asked.
“You know that guy who wanted to take you to San Francisco for dinner?”
In response, Danielle groaned and then popped a piece of bacon in her mouth.
“You know how we talked about Hillary basing her murder scenes on real-life crimes?”
Danielle and Lily stopped eating for a moment and exchanged glances.
“Yeah, what about it?” Danielle asked.
“When you told me his name, I knew it sounded familiar. So I looked him up last night. His wife was the first victim. The woman who was murdered in Beautiful Rage, so to speak.”
Danielle glanced at Lily. Obviously, her housemate hadn’t shared that bit of information with her boyfriend. And we say Lily can’t keep anything to herself.
Lily flashed Danielle a grin while taking a sip of her coffee.
“You know he was a friend of Steve’s. He was at Beverly’s when Lily and I stopped over there on Sunday.”
“I remember you telling me that. You obviously made quite an impression on him.” Ian took a bite of toast.
“According to Chris, it was my money he was impressed with,” Danielle scoffed.
“Chris might be right,” Ian agreed.
“Hey!” Lily reached over and gave Ian’s forearm a light smack. “Why wouldn’t he be interested in Dani for herself?”
Ian blushed. “I didn’t mean that.”
About to take a bite of her English muffin, Danielle arched her brows and looked coolly at Ian. “I am so abused around here.”
Ian chuckled. “I’m sorry, Danielle. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It’s just that when I looked up the guy last night, I was a little curious. By some of the articles I came across and a few things I saw on social media, looks like a number of his past clients are pretty upset with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a serious cash-flow problem like Adam suggested.”
“Then he shouldn’t be going out and buying wine for three hundred bucks a pop.” Danielle took a bite out of her English muffin.
“He’s also the one who gave Steve the tamales. That’s supposedly what Steve ate the night he had the allergy episode and fell off the pier,” Lily told him.
Ian looked at Lily. “How do you know that?”
“Beverly told Danielle that when she dropped over here the other day.”
“I guess he and Steve were old friends. According to Beverly, they used to work together. But she seemed to think they weren’t as close as they used to be,” Danielle explained.
It wasn’t quite 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday when Beverly Klein opened her front door for Officer Brian Henderson. She hadn’t yet dressed for the day, but instead wore a floor-length terrycloth bathrobe, tied at the waist with a terrycloth belt. What she had underneath the robe, he had no idea. There were no pajama bottom cuffs peeking out below the robe’s hem. Her face was free of makeup, but her hair was damp, as if recently shampooed.
“I was hoping I could ask you a few questions,” Brian asked, still standing on the front porch.
Beverly opened the door wider and welcomed him in.
After she showed him to the living room, he said, “If you’d feel more comfortable slipping into something else, I can just wait down here.”
Beverly let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid this is all I’ve the energy to put on today.” She plopped down on a chair facing him. “Although I suppose I should be flattered anyone might consider me in terrycloth even remotely racy.”
“Oh…I didn’t mean—” Brian blushed.
Beverly cut him off, waving her hand dismissively. “I was just teasing. Thank you for making that offer, but frankly, I don’t really care who knows I haven’t gotten dressed yet. Hell, considering everything, I may never get dressed again.”
“I’m sorry to have to bother you, under the circumstances, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions.”
“I understand. Would you like me to get you a cup of coffee first? Some tea? Water?”
Brian smiled. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
Leaning back in her chair, she folded her hands on her lap and looked at Brian. “Well then, what did you want to ask me?”
“Have you seen Baron Huxley in the last couple days?”
“Baron?” She shook her head. “No, why?”
“We’ve been trying to contact him. There are a few more questions we’d like to ask him. But he wasn’t at his house, and he hasn’t been answering his cellphone.”
“Perhaps he went back to Vancouver. Baron doesn’t live here, you know.”
“I understand. But we found his car this morning in the pier parking lot. The cook at Pier Café said he noticed it parked there last night when he got off work. But there is no sign of Mr. Huxley.”
She frowned. “That’s odd.”
“I noticed the for sale sign in his front yard—”
“For sale sign? What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Huxley put his Frederickport house up for sale.”
“Really? He never mentioned anything to me about that when he stopped over here the other day.”
“I dropped by Frederickport Vacation Properties and spoke to Adam Nichols—that’s who’s listing the property—and according to Adam, Mr. Huxley should still be in town. He told Adam he’d talk to him before he left for Vancouver.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to tell you. But then, Baron was more my husband’s friend—and my acquaintance. We never really did anything socially—not since his wife was killed.”
“If you hear from him, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me.”
“Certainly.” Beverly smiled. “Was that it?”
“No. As I said, there are still a number of unanswered questions.”
“Like why Steve had crabmeat in his body?”
Brian nodded.
“I’ve been asking myself that same question over and over again. I can’t come up with any logical reason for Steve eating crab. He just would never do that.”
“The only other explanation—your husband ate something that had crab in it, and he didn’t know. Did your husband have any enemies?”
“Enemies?” Beverly frowned. “Are you saying someone intentionally gave my husband something with crab in it? Without his knowledge?”
“We’re looking into all possibilities. Did he have any enemies?”
“Absolutely not. Not everyone loved Steve, but I don’t believe anyone hated him. Certainly not enough to kill him.”
“Do you know if your husband had any sort of problem with Mr. Huxley?”
“Baron? You’re asking because Baron’s the one who gave Steve those tamales, aren’t you?”
“Do you know of any problems they may have had? Did your husband mention anything to you about Mr. Huxley?” Brian already knew Beverly had confided in Danielle about problems between Steve and Huxley. He wondered what Beverly would tell him.
Beverly sat silently in the chair a few moments, considering the question. “To be honest, Steve and Baron have had issues off and on for as long as I’ve known them. But I never really knew t
he details, and they always seemed to work out whatever problems they had.”
“Do you know what kind of problems?”
“A difference of opinion in how to conduct business. Steve took his job very seriously, and while he didn’t make a habit of discussing his work in depth with me—he often told me it would just bore me—he did suggest a few times over the years that Baron wasn’t especially ethical. I suspect that’s why he cut ties with him.”
“Cut ties with him? I thought they were friends.”
“I meant professionally. Years ago they started a business together, and not long after Baron’s wife died, Steve and Baron dissolved their partnership.”
“But they remained friends?”
“Yes. It was better when they separated their business and personal lives. After Baron bought his beach house here, they’d often go fishing together. I think they enjoyed each other, as long as they didn’t have to work together.”
“Do you know if they’ve had any recent disagreements? A falling out?”
“Certainly you don’t believe Baron did something to those tamales, do you?”
“You don’t believe Baron Huxley is capable of something like that?”
Beverly considered the question a moment. Finally, she said, “To be honest, I really don’t know Baron that well. I have no idea what he might be capable of.”
“Do you know if he and Steve had any recent issues?”
“Actually, they did. About a week before Steve’s death, I walked into the bedroom and Steve was on the phone with Baron. They were obviously in a heated argument.”
“Do you know what about?”
She shook her head. “No. As soon as I realized Steve was on the phone—and in the middle of an argument—I turned around and left the room and closed the door behind me.”
“How did you know he was talking to Huxley?”
“When he came out of the bedroom after he finished the call, I asked him who he was talking to; he said Baron. I asked him what was going on, and he just said you don’t want to know.”
“And you didn’t press him?”
