A Toast to Murder

by Allyson K. Abbott

  “A proposal?” Duncan said with a curious smile. “Business or marriage?”

  “Business. The other guests were your boss, Mark Holland, and the chief district attorney, Anthony Dixon. They want to work with me.”

  “Interesting,” Duncan said. “I’ve had a couple of chats with Holland about you recently, and I knew he was curious about your abilities, but I had no idea he had talked with anyone else or come to any sort of decision regarding the matter.”

  “They’re offering to hire me on as a consultant.” I made finger quotes around the last word. “And they’ve said they’ll pay me, though we haven’t gotten as far as talking numbers yet. I gather they want me to assist with interrogating suspects and perhaps some of the crime-scene investigation.”

  I expected Duncan to be enthusiastic about this proposal, given that it was what he’d had in mind months ago, though more with me as his off-the-books personal assistant. But he looked uncertain and said, “Are you going to do it?”

  I shrugged, giving him an ambivalent nod. “I don’t see why not. It seems like an ideal situation. It’s a way for me to bring in some extra money, and I like being able to do something constructive with my synesthesia. Despite the darkness this crime stuff has brought into my life, I find the work rewarding and enriching. I’d like to find a way to continue doing it, and working against people like Holland and Dixon doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “You still seem a little hesitant.”

  I gave him a grudging smile. “There’s the rub of having to work with other people and being forced to do things their way,” I told him. “And, of course, I have mixed feelings about the publicity. Holland and Dixon want to advertise the fact that they’re working with me. In fact, they want to spin the Middleton thing in a way that suggests they were working with me on that case.”

  Duncan nodded solemnly. “They need a way to try to save face,” he said. “I warned you that might happen.”

  “I know, and to be honest, I don’t care if they take all the credit. I’m not looking for kudos or recognition. All I want to do is use my synesthesia for something good.”

  “What about the Capone Club? Did they come up in the discussion at all?”

  “They did. Holland and Dixon weren’t quite as eager to include them. But I told him we were a package deal. So we’ll see what they agree to. Before I involve the Capone Club to any great degree, I want to make sure that whoever is helping the letter writer isn’t a member. And the more I look at all of the things that have happened, and how much the letter writer knows, and perhaps more importantly, all of the things the letter writer has overlooked or ignored, the more convinced I am that there’s a connection to the Capone Club.”

  “Are you leaning toward any one person?”

  “No,” I said, frowning. “And that’s half the battle. I can’t imagine any of them betraying me in that way. Perhaps I’m too trusting or too naïve. I sincerely hope I’m wrong and that none of them are involved. But my gut is telling me someone has betrayed me and the rest of the group. It upsets me, but more than that, it makes me angry. Extremely angry. And when I find out who it is, they’re going to rue the day.”

  Duncan smiled and arched an eyebrow at me. “Whoa,” he said. “That’s a side of you I haven’t seen before.”

  I arched a brow right back at him. “And if you don’t want to see it directed at you, you better clean up some things,” I said in my best warning tone. “Before you and I can move on, I think you need to get this ex-fiancée crap straightened out. Even if she has nothing to do with the letter writer, she sounds like an obsessive nut job who clearly hasn’t gotten the message that you’re through with her. That sort of tenacity and focus can evolve into something dangerous, and I have enough stuff to worry about already. I don’t need some fatal attraction thing on the side. If you’re serious about being done with her, you need to make her go away for good. If you’re not, you need to tell me now.”

  Chapter 12

  Even though time alone with Duncan was a rarity, and something I typically looked forward to—not to mention something we hadn’t had much of lately—I didn’t feel like I could be all cozy and intimate with him after the conversation we just had. Fortunately, I didn’t have to have that discussion because Cora called me seconds after I had issued Duncan the ultimatum about cleaning up his act with Courtney.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said when I answered. “I hope my timing wasn’t off.”

  “You’re fine. Did you find something?”

  “I did. I have a number of connections between Whitney and Suzanne. It’s not surprising given that they both come from wealthy families, tend to socialize in the same circles, and indulge in the same types of activities. But I can’t connect Whitney to all of the package recipients who received scholarships, and I can’t find any connection between her and the lady from the spy shop or the guy from the art store.”

  “I guess that’s good news,” I said, though I also felt a twinge of disappointment. I was hoping for some answers and a clearer direction with regard to the letter writer. And while this news did provide some answers, there was a small part of me—a part I wasn’t proud of—that was hoping to discover something terrible about Whitney, something that would convince Billy to break up with her.

  “But I did find a connection between Whitney and the casino,” Cora added, revving my hopes back up. “It turns out her great-grandmother was Native American. And her firm represents the casino in legal matters. In fact, Whitney is their primary attorney. I checked her social media to see if I could alibi her for the time of Lewis’s death, but I couldn’t find anything.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “So we can’t rule out the possibility that she and Suzanne are working together.”

  “Not yet, anyway. Is Duncan there with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have me on speaker?”

  “No.”

  “Good. So it’s okay if I give you some information regarding Jimmy Patterson?”

  My heart skipped a beat, and it took a great deal of restraint not to look over at Duncan. I held the cell phone a little closer to my ear to make sure Duncan wouldn’t be able to overhear. “Go ahead,” I said. Then, for good measure, I got up from my seat and hobbled over to the coffeepot to put some extra distance between me and Duncan. I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder, and went about pouring myself another cup of coffee.

  “I don’t have any way to verify where Jimmy was during specific times, for the most part, without giving away the fact that I’m looking into it. However, I did find an interesting connection between him and Suzanne Collier.”

  “Yes?” I said, trying to sound bored and uninterested.

  “He works for the family part-time during his off hours doing security.”

  “Really?” I felt a frisson of excitement and apprehension.

  “Yes, indeed. The Colliers own several other businesses besides the art store and the restaurant that we know about. One of those businesses involves a fleet of ships, and the Colliers own several warehouses on the lakeshore. They use their own security guards on site, and Jimmy Patterson is one of them.”

  “That’s interesting,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Okay, I get that you can’t discuss this much with Duncan there, correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m betting you’re thinking the same thing I am: that it’s not a huge leap from working for the Colliers as a security guard to doing some of Suzanne Collier’s dirty work.”

  “Exactly.” Cora had an amazing ability to anticipate or perhaps read my thoughts. “It’s an interesting angle,” I said into the phone. “We can discuss it some more later.”

  “Gotcha. You let me know when and where, and if there’s anything else you want me to do along these lines.”

  “I will. Thanks, Cora.” I disconnected the call and returned to the table, smiling at Duncan.

  “What’s Cora
up to now?” he asked.

  “She’s been digging a little deeper into some of the members of the Capone Club,” I told him. “I have her looking for links to Suzanne that might point a finger at someone or anything that might rule them out.”

  “And what did she come up with?” Duncan asked. He was eyeing me closely, and I felt uncomfortable beneath his stare. I thought fast, trying to come up with a feasible lie to tell him. And then, for whatever reason, I decided to tell him the truth. Part of my new no-holds-barred, taking-control-of-my-own-life philosophy, I guess.

  “She discovered that Whitney’s firm—in fact, Whitney herself—represents the casino in legal matters. She also discovered that Jimmy works for the Collier family doing security work on his off hours. Did you know that?”

  Duncan frowned at me, a doubtful expression on his face. “Where is Cora getting this information?”

  I told him what Cora had told me, and as I spoke, I watched him. I could tell he didn’t want to believe what I was saying, but in the end I saw resignation set in. “I’ve hinted around at the idea of Jimmy being involved with the letter writer,” I told him. “I know he doesn’t like me, and I know he doesn’t like you working with me. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense, including the fact that you, specifically, were mentioned in the letters.”

  Duncan shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Just because Jimmy is a little hesitant about what you do and is moonlighting for the Colliers doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”

  I cocked my head to the side and gave him a sympathetic look. “I know you don’t want to consider the idea, but how well do you really know Jimmy? You’ve only been here in Milwaukee for what, eight months? Have you been working with Jimmy the entire time?”

  “I have.”

  “And did you know he was moonlighting?”

  Duncan shook his head. “But that’s not surprising,” he said. “The brass frowns upon us doing extra work like that. And since I’m new, Jimmy might not have felt comfortable telling me yet.”

  “Is Jimmy aware of any of this stuff you’ve done regarding the letter writer? Does he know that you’re still seeing me?”

  Duncan shook his head.

  “He’s your partner. He’s the person who’s supposed to have your back in a crisis. He’s the person your life might depend upon. So why haven’t you told him?”

  “For one thing, you asked me not to. And while I trust Jimmy for the most part, your point that he and I haven’t known one another very long is a valid one. Besides, I’m one of those people who feels more comfortable keeping things to myself.”

  “Are those the only reasons you haven’t told him?”

  His frown deepened. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m suggesting that perhaps your gut is telling you there’s a possibility Jimmy might not be one hundred percent trustworthy.”

  Duncan shook his head, but it was a tentative shake, as if he wasn’t thoroughly convinced. “I do think he’s trustworthy,” he said, but despite the words, he sounded a little tentative. “I’m just a private person.”

  “You mean like keeping from me the fact that your ex-fiancée has been hounding you to come back to her ever since you broke up?” The words came out in a tone that was snide and snippy. It wasn’t what I intended, but my frustration with Duncan’s inability to consider the possibility of Jimmy’s involvement angered me.

  “We’re back to that now?” Duncan said in a weary tone of voice.

  I stared at him, feeling my frustration build. “Yes,” I snapped. “We’re back to that, the fact that you’ve been hiding something relatively important from me ever since we met, and the fact that you refuse to open your mind to the possibility that your partner may not be what he seems.”

  “I didn’t hide anything from you,” Duncan said, his mouth tight. “I merely didn’t mention something I felt was irrelevant, an annoyance I assumed would go away.”

  “Well, it didn’t go away, did it?”

  “I believe it has now,” Duncan said.

  “You believe it has, but you’re not sure, are you?”

  “I’m sure from my end, and that’s all that should matter. I think you’re overreacting to the situation, maybe because you’re a little jealous?”

  I glared at him, feeling my anger rise. As my ire increased, I saw red—literally. Everything in my field of vision was tinted with the color. “Overreacting?” I said in a tone of disbelief. “Yes, I’m feeling a little insecure about our relationship since you didn’t tell me that the woman you loved enough to marry if she hadn’t stood you up at the altar is now, and apparently has been, desperate to resume your relationship. If you honestly can’t understand why that upsets me, then I think maybe we need to take some time apart.”

  “I thought we were spending quite a bit of time apart as it was,” Duncan grumbled. “Perhaps that’s the problem. You and I haven’t seen much of one another lately, and you’ve been spending lots of time with Mal. If you want to get rid of me so you can date him, just say so.”

  “Aargh!” I clenched my fists, squeezed my eyes closed, and made an effort to quell the anger about to burst out of me. The red deepened and swirled, like an angry, spinning pool of blood. My skin prickled. I took a deep, bracing breath, blew it out slowly, and focused on centering myself. Once the redness and the prickly sensation had subsided, and I knew I was fully in control, I opened my eyes, looking directly at Duncan. “I’ve been honest with you about Mal right from the start,” I said in a low, even voice. “That’s more than I can say for how you’ve treated me with regard to Courtney. I’m not interested in dumping you so I can see Mal, but I do think it would be wise if we spent some time apart.”

  “I think you’re right,” Duncan said with a sigh. He pushed himself up from the table and walked out of the kitchen.

  I grabbed my crutches, hoisted myself out of my seat, and followed him. I watched as he donned his coat and hat. Under normal circumstances, he might’ve been able to storm out of my apartment. But there was the issue of keeping his visits secret and the need to disarm the alarm on the back-alley door. These required me to accompany him downstairs and facilitate his departure. So much for high drama.

  He stood at the top of the stairs, his hands in his pockets, and said nothing. There was no need to speak at this point. I hobbled over to the top of the stairs and slowly made my way down. Once I reached the landing at the base of the stairs, I opened the door and stepped out into the back hallway of the bar. It was empty, and I looked back at Duncan.

  “Hold on while I go and turn off the alarm. I’ll come back and knock on the door when it’s safe.”

  Duncan nodded but said nothing.

  I crutched my way into my office, relieved to see that Cora was no longer there, turned off the alarm, and then retraced my steps. A couple of women exited from the bathroom down the hall just as I reached the apartment door. They didn’t look my way, and as soon as they disappeared around the corner into the main area of the bar, I gave a quick rap on the door. I backed up just in time to keep the door from hitting me and then held it as Duncan stepped out into the hallway and pushed open the back-alley door. For a moment, he hesitated, and I expected him to turn around and say something. But he didn’t. In a flash, he was gone.

  Chapter 13

  I headed back into my office, turned the door alarm back on, and then settled on the couch to gather my thoughts. I certainly hadn’t anticipated my time with Duncan going the way it had, and I wondered if the relationship was doomed. It seemed that no matter what we did, or how hard we tried, there were always obstacles in the way. Maybe the Fates were trying to tell me something.

  The more I thought, the angrier I got. Not just about Duncan, but about this damned letter writer. I was determined to put an end to it one way or another. And slowly, my plan for doing so began to gel.

  After brooding for a while, I got up and made my way out to the main area of the bar. Business was hopping, the tables filled with p
atrons who were still enjoying the holiday spirit with some holiday spirits. Billy was behind the bar, and Teddy Bear was back there with him.

  “How are things going?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Going great,” Teddy answered, and Billy nodded his agreement.

  “I have an idea I’d like to run by you guys, see what you think,” I said. “Instead of staying open all night on New Year’s Eve this year, I’m thinking of closing the bar down around ten and hosting a private party. It would be for employees and a guest, if you like, plus a few select people from our customer base, you know, people like Cora and the Signoriello brothers.”

  “You mean the Capone Club,” Billy said archly.

  “Well, yes, I suppose I do,” I admitted. “But not just them. I want to open it up to family members, too. All drinks will be on the house, and the food too. I could hire someone from the outside to do the bartending and cooking. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea!” Billy said.

  “Would you attend? And would Whitney deign to come to something like that?”

  “She’d have no choice,” Billy said with more confidence than I think he felt. “Lord knows, I’ve had to dress up and go to enough dinners and events at her request. I think it’s about time she returned the favor. Besides, she owes me one.” He winked at me and didn’t elaborate. “But what about all the lost revenue? Can you afford to do that, Mack?”

  “I’ll survive.” I probably shouldn’t forgo the income from the only day during the year that Wisconsin bars are allowed to stay open all night long, and with the new elevator improvements, my savings account was going to take a significant hit. But I would survive it, and it was something I felt strongly I needed to do. Not only because I owed it to my staff, but because I had something else in mind for that night. Besides, I had the extra income I’d be bringing in with my consulting work with Holland and Dixon.

  I looked over at Teddy with raised eyebrows. “What do you think, Teddy? Would you stay? And would you bring someone?”