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by Kylie Logan


  Her jaw dropped. Her mouth opened and closed. “You can’t possibly know—” Gloria bit off the rest of what she was going to say.

  But that was enough to confirm my suspicion. “You did it so you could switch out the bone button on your tray for an ivory button, so you wouldn’t be disqualified. You couldn’t stand the thought that anyone would see a measle on your tray.”

  “Honestly!” This was Helen, so filled with outrage that her voice was shrill. “Cheating in a button contest. It’s unheard of!”

  “It’s not like I hurt anyone.” Gloria folded her beefy arms over her ample chest. Her chins wobbled. “If anyone found out I’d made such a stupid mistake… I couldn’t let that happen.” She was not an attractive woman, and the gaze she leveled at the people gathered in the Button Box was anything but friendly. “If any one of you opens your mouth and word of this gets out—”

  “What are you going to do, Gloria?” Langston demanded. “Kill all of us, just like you killed Brad Wyant?”

  “I never did.” Gloria leaped from her chair. She was nearly as tall as Langston and had at least a good sixty pounds on him, and I didn’t even like to think what would happen if things got to the smackdown stage. Good thing Kaz kept a level head and got up, gently putting a hand on Gloria’s arm and guiding her back to where she belonged.

  “Well, I certainly didn’t kill him.” Langston picked a piece of lint from his impeccable gray pants and flicked it away. “Though I will admit…” When he reached into the breast pocket of his houndstooth jacket, his lips were as puckered as if he’d just bit into a lemon. He brought out his checkbook. “I’ve got the receipt for the bank withdrawal here. I’ll admit it, Josie. I was one of the people who agreed to buy the Geronimo button.”

  I breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving. Finally, we were getting somewhere!

  Rather than let anyone know how relieved I was that my little scheme was working, I kept my voice even. “I thought so,” I said. “But then, that’s because I know how smart you are, Langston. You knew a good business deal when you saw one.”

  “That’s exactly what it was.” The look Langston threw around the circle wasn’t exactly condescending. After all, he depended on button collectors for his livelihood. It was more perceptive and just a little sympathetic. “I wasn’t as enamored of that button as the rest of you. But then, I don’t have buttons in my blood. When the man I thought was Thad Wyant contacted me and asked if I was interested, I said I was. I gave him my money, but I never got the button. He was supposed to show it at the banquet on Monday night, and he didn’t want anyone to be suspicious. We were going to meet on Tuesday morning, and he was going to turn the button over to me then.”

  “And you were going to sell it to the first person you found who would up the ante.”

  In response to my comment, Langston gave me one of his sleek smiles. “Like you said, Josie, it was business. I might have been angry at the man for ripping off my booth, but I wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of turning a pretty profit.” He sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “That doesn’t mean I killed him.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t.” Yeah, I was laying my cards on the table. At least some of them. When it comes to strategy, I’m not as hopeless as Stan thinks I am when he beats me at his monthly poker games. Maybe that’s why Stan sat up and gave me an eagle-eye look. “Langston wouldn’t have killed Brad on Monday,” I said, not so much for Stan’s benefit (because I was sure he’d already figured it out), but for that of the rest of my guests. “For him, it was all about business, and he wanted the button. Langston was the buyer Brad had listed as number two, and you heard what he said; he was supposed to meet Brad on Tuesday morning. He wouldn’t have killed Brad before he had the button.”

  “Can I get my money back now?” Langston asked. “Tonight?”

  I put him off with a smile. “We’ve got a couple more things to take care of first. Like how Jenny here had every reason in the world to hate Thad Wyant.”

  “Jenny?” Her eyes squinched for a better look at the woman sitting across the circle from her, Helen leaned forward. “You’re Beth Howell.”

  “She was registered for the conference as Beth Howell,” I explained. “Her real name is Jenny Tucker. She’s Donovan’s mother. Thad Wyant was Donovan’s father.”

  Just as I expected, there was a collective gasp from those seated around me. “Jenny was outside the ballroom the night of the banquet because she was following the man she thought was Thad. She wanted him to admit that he was Donovan’s father. And Donovan…” I glanced his way. “When he saw his mother out in the lobby, he was curious. Then the next day, he heard the news about the murder, and put two and two together. He thought she actually might be the killer.”

  “Well, that explains it then, doesn’t it?” Helen slapped her hands on her thighs. “We know who did it, and we can be on our way. It’s a busy night, Josie. You know that. There are a lot of people to say good-bye to and a lot of plans that need to be made for next year. You know…” Helen sat up a little straighter. “I’ve been asked to chair the conference in Phoenix. I’m sorry, Josie, but the truth is the truth, and there are people here at the conference who are convinced I’m the only one who can handle a conference this size. You know, without so many…” She chose her words carefully. “Without so many mistakes being made.”

  “The mistakes, yeah, we’ll get to those. For now, though, I think it’s important to point out why I don’t think Jenny did it.”

  Jenny’s hands curled into tight little fists. “I didn’t. I wish I did. But I didn’t.”

  “Of course you didn’t. If he was going to pay you for all those years of missed child support, you needed Thad to be alive and kicking. Once you found out he was dead…”

  She hung her head. “I hoped there would be an estate. That Donovan could get part of it. Thad owed him, after all. He was Donovan’s father, and he owed him.”

  “That’s why you pretended to be part of the housekeeping staff and searched Brad’s room.” Of course, Jenny knew this, but I mentioned it for the benefit of everyone else. “What were you hoping to find?”

  Her shoulders were so slim that when she lifted them, it was barely noticeable. “DNA,” she said. “You know, so I could get it tested.” When she looked up at me, Jenny’s gray eyes sparkled. “I hit the jackpot. You know, those cardboard cards with the buttons on them.”

  “Yeah, the cards.” This had confused me from the moment we found the cards in Donovan’s suitcase. “If they were in Brad’s suite—”

  “Why didn’t the cops find them?” Jenny laughed. “Sometimes, the cops don’t know everything. Back when I first met Thad, back when things were going… you know, when they were going well for us… we were at a button conference, and we went back to his room one night. The first thing he did was go over to the air conditioner and start fussing with the carpet right under it. The day he checked in, see, he’d made a slit in it, and that’s where he kept his extra money. He told me it was something his mama always did when the family traveled together. Said it was one place nobody would ever look if they came to rob the room.”

  “Which explains how Brad knew the hiding place, too.” I nodded. “And that’s where—”

  “Where he hid those button cards. Sure.” Jenny laughed. “At first, I thought I could sell those buttons, but then I realized there was something even more valuable on one of those cards. A little spot of Thad’s blood.”

  “Only if you’d had it tested, you would have found out it wasn’t Thad after all,” I reminded her.

  Jenny frowned. “Son of a bitch cheated me, even after he was dead. Cheated my son out of everything that should be his.”

  “And if Jenny had killed Brad…” Like I said, Langston was smart. He’d already figured out exactly what I was going to mention next. “If she was after DNA and she killed him, she could have had all the blood she wanted. I mean, she could have soaked up some of his blood with one o
f those hand towels that must have been in the linen room where they found the body. She wouldn’t have needed to go through his room, looking for DNA.”

  “Exactly!” I acknowledged his shrewdness with a smile.

  “I still don’t see…” Helen made a move to stand up and head for the door.

  “About the mistakes, yeah.” Since I planted myself right in front of her, there was really no place she could go, and she plopped back in her seat.

  “Everything that went wrong at the conference—that’s what got me thinking. That is, after Donovan here showed me what he’d caught on camera the night of the banquet.”

  “Not the killer!” Chase shot up like a shot.

  “You don’t actually believe anything a man like that filmed.” Helen tsked.

  Gloria narrowed her eyes and sent a death look in Donovan’s direction.

  “Actually, what Donovan showed me has nothing to do with Brad’s murder. Not directly, anyway. It has everything to do with what’s been going on at this conference to discredit me.”

  “You mean purposely?” Helen’s cheeks paled, then shot through with color. “No one would ever do a thing like that! We love you, Josie. You know that.”

  “I know there was only one person dressed in pink the Monday of the conference.” I gave Helen a level look. “It’s clear,” I said. “Or at least it was once I took a really good look. There you are, Helen, in the background of the shot Donovan took right before the opening ceremony. You’re unplugging the microphone, and my guess is you did it for the same reason you called and cancelled the salads and the milkshakes. The same reason you misplaced some of the nametags the night of the cruise. You wanted to go down in the history of the International Society of Antique and Vintage Button Collectors as the best conference chair ever. You wanted to be invited to head next year’s event. And you couldn’t do that, not if you didn’t make me look incompetent.”

  “Well, I never!” Indignant as all get-out, Helen got to her feet and headed for the door, and when Kaz made a move to stop her, I signaled him to back off. “After all I’ve done for this group,” Helen wailed. “After all I’ve done for you, Josie. To think that you’d think I was that kind of person!” She sniffled, pulled a lace-edged hankie from her purse, and touched it to her nose. “I’m leaving.”

  “Yes, of course. You’re free to go.” I made sure I stayed as calm as I was able. This was the big moment, and I didn’t want to give anything away. “You can all go now,” I said, glancing around the circle at my guests. “Only there’s one thing you need to know before you do. Brad Wyant was a creep who’d come to rip off as many people as he could, and he found four people to sell the phony Geronimo button to. Only what you don’t know…” I drew in a breath. “What you all need to know,” I told them, “was that one of those buttons was the real thing.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “IT DIDN’T WORK.” NEV AND I WERE BACK AT THE HOTEL, in that alcove with the soda and the ice machines, and I leaned my head against the wall. It was nearly two hours after we’d left the Button Box and nearly an hour and a half since we’d been standing in the alcove, and I wasn’t feeling any more upbeat about what happened back at the shop now than I was when my guests walked out. “We didn’t get anywhere. I accused Helen of the most awful things and—”

  “And we don’t know yet.” Remember how Nev told me about stakeouts? Well, that’s pretty much what we were up to. We were on a stakeout, right between the vendor room and that trash can where we’d found the Geronimo button a couple days earlier. Being a veteran of these sorts of cloak-and-dagger operations, Nev knew to keep his voice down. “Telling them one of the buttons was real is bound to bring out our perp,” he reminded me, the way he’d been reminding me since we got back to the hotel. “All we have to do is be patient.”

  “Yeah, but this is a stakeout, remember, and you’re going to get crabby.”

  Was that a smile that lit Nev’s eyes? It was kind of hard to tell since it was late and the hotel had agreed to help us out by turning down the lights in the corridor and in the little alcove where we were hiding. He stepped closer. “I said I get crabby on regular stakeouts,” he crooned. “I didn’t say anything about getting crabby when you’re around.”

  That actually wasn’t true, because, like I said, I’d seen him crabby a time or two. Then again, that was back when we didn’t know each other very well. These days… I thought about all we’d been through together, and I found myself smiling, too.

  I mirrored Nev and moved a step closer to him. “So when I’m around, you’re in a good mood?”

  “The best.” He put his hands on my arms and bent his head toward mine. “In fact, I’m hoping when we get this case wrapped up—”

  “Somebody’s coming!”

  We’d stationed Kaz out near the hotel registration desk to keep an eye on things, and didn’t it figure, he picked this exact moment to scoot by and warn us.

  My sigh and Nev’s overlapped.

  “Who is it?” Nev whispered.

  “Couldn’t tell.” Oh yeah, I felt the touch of Kaz’s gaze just at the place where Nev’s hands were on my arms, but when we heard the sound of footsteps from out in the hallway, he didn’t have the luxury of commenting. Just as we planned, he quickly and carefully opened a nearby service door and ducked into the stairwell there.

  Nev and I backed away from each other and listened. A minute later, what we heard was the sound of somebody rattling through the nearest trash can. With a nod, Nev indicated it was time to move forward. We did—

  And found Chase Cadell with his head down in the trash.

  “Too late, Mr. Cadell,” Nev said, and when Chase flinched and stood up, Nev shone his flashlight in his face. “We found the button days ago. It’s been in the police evidence room ever since.”

  “Button?” Chase let go a nervous laugh. “I swear, I don’t have a clue what in the tarnation—”

  I leaned in close to him. “It was the real one,” I said.

  Chase’s face fell like a badly baked cake. “Goldarnit!” he moaned. “I had the real one? The real Geronimo button? And I tossed it? I mean—” It was too late to take back the confession, and Chase knew it.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You were either buyer number one, scheduled to meet Brad after the cruise on Sunday, or buyer number four. Did you meet him in the laundry room? Before the banquet?”

  “That might be true.” Chase’s gaze darted between me and Nev. “But that doesn’t mean I killed him. Why would I? I had the button. And I only got rid of it…” As if he could call back time and get his hands on the precious button again, Chase looked longingly at the trash can. “I got rid of it on account of I figured if you found it on me, you’d think it was evidence, that I killed Wyant.”

  “Which we do.” Nev flicked his flashlight off and on three times, a signal to the uniformed cop waiting nearby that he could come and escort Chase to the security office.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Chase said as he walked away. “I paid him, right enough. And I got that there button, and I’d put my hand to it and swear if it was here. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Maybe,” Nev conceded once Chase was gone. “Maybe not. Once we find the person who has the second button—”

  He didn’t finish, but then, that was because I poked him in the ribs with my elbow. “Shh,” I hissed. “Listen.”

  We did, and we heard the small sounds of shuffling from inside the vendor room. This time, Nev took the lead. Together, we walked to the closed door, and on the count of three, he pushed the door open, and I flicked on the lights.

  Was I surprised to see Helen digging through the poke box I’d found her at that afternoon?

  I wanted to be. Honest to gosh, I tried. Instead, all I could do was close in on her, my heart as heavy as my voice.

  “I was hoping it would be Gloria,” I said.

  “Gloria? Really?” She sparkled. But then, Helen always did. Too bad that smile of hers wavered aroun
d the edges. “I don’t know… I don’t know what you mean, dear.”

  “Sure you do. And it all comes back to what I said earlier, doesn’t it? You couldn’t stand to let anyone think you weren’t the best. You sabotaged everything you could so that folks would think I was a loser and you were the best conference chair ever. And you…” My voice clogged, and I coughed away the pain. “Gloria was buyer number three. She was supposed to meet Brad in the bar after the banquet, but by then, he was dead. You were buyer number one, the person who got the button from Brad on Sunday night. You’ve kept it hidden all this time, but when I announced this afternoon that the buttons were phony, you figured you could get rid of it. That’s why you were digging through the poke box, not to find a button, to lose one. Once I let the cat out of the bag that there was more than one phony button and that the buyers could get their money back, you figured people would start coming forward, and somehow, the cops would find out you were one of the suckers Brad preyed on. You couldn’t be found with a button that might make you look guilty, either of being taken in by Brad or of his murder.”

  Even as I said this, Nev put up a hand, a signal to the waiting crime-scene tech to come retrieve the poke box and take it away.

  “It was all about your reputation.” I should have been mad, but I couldn’t muster the energy. I studied the woman who I’d always looked up to as a friend and a mentor. “That’s why you had to make me look bad, and that’s why you killed Brad. You couldn’t let anyone know what he’d done to you.”

  Helen lifted her chin, but it says something about how she felt that she refused to meet my eyes. Instead, she glanced at Nev. “If I cooperate… ?”

  He didn’t say what would happen, he only gave her a nod as a way of telling her to keep talking.

 

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