Paradise Can Be Murder

by Susan Bernhardt

  It was going on eight o’clock. A few of our neighbors came over to Neelam and Dinesh, wished them well and said their goodbyes.

  “Thanks so much for helping,” Neelam and Dinesh both said.

  When they started for the door, Neelam looked at the rest of us.

  “Right. We should get moving. We still have to get going on our new songs for tomorrow,” Phil said.

  “You girls can stay behind and talk about colors,” Mike said.

  Deirdre gave Mike a look of disdain. I did too.

  “We appreciate all of your help. I’ll be at practice in a little while,” Dinesh said.

  “Phil, John and I can give you and Mike a lift home,” Elizabeth said.

  It was obvious Elizabeth didn’t want to be involved in the positive energy talk either. And it was equally obvious she would have to take her green suit to the dry cleaners.

  “It’s too late to start practicing, and you guys must be starved. Why don’t we all go out to the new Chinese restaurant?” I said.

  “That’s a great idea,” Deirdre said. “I’m famished.”

  Neelam looked over at Dinesh with a questioning look. Dinesh, his voice somewhat shaky, said, “Thank you. I think we’ll pass on the food. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Neelam looked over at me, her eyes tearing up.

  When we were going towards the door, I turned around and saw Dinesh with his arms around Neelam. I could see he was trembling. They just stood there holding each other. I had never seen Dinesh like this.

  “Kay, let’s get going,” Phil called out from outside.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Friday, April 8

  I WOKE UP thinking about Will. It must have been hard for him to keep the secret about the baby from us. No wonder, when he called after we arrived home from the cruise, he asked if we had talked to Andy yet. My thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing.

  “Good morning, Mom. Is Dad around?”

  “Good morning, Uncle Will. You’re calling early.”

  “Oh, you talked to Andy. Isn’t it great? I’m going to be an uncle. How cool is that? Hey, is Dad still home or has he already left for school?”

  I looked at the clock. It was almost eight o’clock. “I was just thinking about you and you called.”

  “It works that way sometimes.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and see if he’s still home. Just one second.”

  I placed the phone on my bedside table and got out of bed. Putting my robe on, I turned the phone on speaker.

  “Will? Are you still there?” I said as I walked down the stairs.

  “I have something important to tell both of you.”

  “You sound so excited. I’m almost downstairs. I can hear him in the kitchen.” I bet I knew what he was excited about. My heart started racing.

  Phil was at the kitchen table drinking coffee. His guitar plans were sprawled out over the table. I whispered to Phil, “Will has something important to tell us.” I put the phone on top of the papers.

  “We’re both listening, Will,” I said.

  “Hello, Will. How are you doing? Anything wrong?”

  “Hi, Dad. No, everything is just great! I wanted to tell you both that I asked Frances to marry me last night. We’re getting married next summer.”

  Phil looked at me and immediately said, “Congratulations, Will! That’s great news.”

  I took Phil’s hand in mine. “How wonderful, Will! Do you mean in a few months?” I asked, thinking there wasn’t much time.

  “No. Next year. Maybe even in May.”

  I started tearing up. “I’m so happy for you. You know how much I like Frances. Is she there? I’d like to congratulate her as well.”

  Phil squeezed my hand.

  “She already left for work, but I’ll tell her you said congratulations. I’m so happy. We’re so happy. I tried calling you last night, but you weren’t home.”

  I didn’t want to ruin the moment telling Will we were helping Neelam and Dinesh clean out their firebombed store. He had on occasion jammed with Dinesh and enjoyed their company.

  “This is so exciting, Will,” I said. “Another wedding, a baby.”

  Phil stood up. I put my arms around his waist and hugged him.

  “I have to get to work. Don’t tell Andy. I’ll call him tonight. He’ll be my best man, of course.”

  “Our lips are sealed,” I said. “We love you, Will.”

  “Wow! So much is going on,” I said, when I ended the call. “Frances will make a wonderful daughter-in-law. I’m so happy for Will.”

  Phil started gathering his plans. “Now you’ll have two.”

  I smiled large. “I need to call Deirdre and Elizabeth and tell them about Will’s wedding.”

  “You mean his engagement.”

  “Right. Of course, that’s what I meant.” Same thing.

  “After I get home from school today, we’re going to set up at The Starlite. I’ll come home for a short time for dinner before the gig.”

  “Sounds good. We can have a quick bite to eat. I’ll stop at Gupta’s...”

  Phil narrowed his eyes.

  I shook my head. “I’ll have to come up with something for dinner. I sure miss going to Gupta’s New Delhi for takeout.”

  “I know.”

  “By the way, after we came home from the restaurant yesterday evening and you were over at Mike’s, I went to the police station to give them the piece of glass we found at the store. I asked if there was any new information regarding the arson.”

  Phil looked at his watch. “Sorry I was over there so late. I tried not to wake you when I came into the bedroom. What did Kirk say? I hope he’s going to check out the glass for fingerprints.”

  “I hope so too. He said he would. Anyway, they did get a tip. An old, dark pickup with writing on the side was seen less than a block away from Neelam’s store the night of the fire, before the firefighters arrived. Usually the streets are deserted in the shopping area of town that time of night. The person who made the tip said there was a big dent in the back fender of the truck.”

  “Couldn’t they see what the writing said?”

  “I asked the same thing. It was too dark. The truck wasn’t under a street light.”

  “Strange they could see a dent, but not the writing. I suppose that’s something to go on, but not much. Anyone could have been parked there.”

  I stood up, walked over to the counter, and poured myself a cup of coffee. “Gupta’s store was firebombed right after two in the morning. The bars close at two o’clock.”

  “There could be a connection.”

  My eyes opened wide. “A big connection. Who else would be out at two in the morning? The pickup truck is all we have right now. There weren’t any surveillance cameras by the store.”

  “I bet Dinesh will have one installed if he stays,” Phil said. “I better get going.”

  “That would be a good idea. It seems like he is planning to stay, right? Try to feel him out about that at practice today.”

  * * * *

  “Can I come to the fundraiser, Kay? My dad said I could come if you’d be there. He’ll be tending bar.”

  I started peeling carrots for a salad. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think a bar is a good place for someone your age.”

  “Even if it’s for a good cause? Even if my dad said I could go if you watch me?”

  “Even if it is for a good cause, Janey. You’re already helping Neelam and Dinesh by organizing the bake sale at school during parent teacher conferences next week. A bar is not the place for a twelve-year-old girl.”

  Phil looked over at me raising his eyebrows. He had come home for dinner. He’d better not say anything about having Janey attend the fundraiser at The Starlite.

  I put the salad bowl on the table and opened my eyes wide trying to signal him that it wasn’t a good place for Janey to be. “Would you like to eat with us?”

  She made a pouting face. “No. And I’m almost thir
teen.”

  “It’s wonderful that the entire community is coming out for Neelam and Dinesh,” Phil said.

  I looked over at Phil and glared at him.

  Janey looked between the two of us. “I forgot to tell you, I’m giving a speech on Monday at school on tolerance? Kay, do you think you could help me with it over the weekend?”

  “Of course. I’d be happy to. What a timely topic with everything that is going on.”

  * * * *

  Phil and the band started playing around nine o’clock. The place was packed with every table filled. Some patrons were even standing. I was thrilled to see the turnout. There was a ten dollar admission that evening, probably the first time an admission was ever charged at The Starlite. The owners of the bar were donating half of the drink profits to the cause. That would raise a hefty sum to renovate Neelam and Dinesh’s store.

  I sat at a cocktail table with Neelam, Deirdre, Elizabeth, and John, and continued to look around to see if I noticed anything out of the ordinary. The Starlite Lounge was a retro experience. High-backed chairs encircled small cocktail tables. There were sofas scattered throughout the area. Chrome accents and a teal and orange color scheme rounded out the scene. People kept coming over to our table telling Neelam how sorry they were about the fire and giving their support. I think she was quite surprised and overwhelmed by all of the love showered on her.

  When Dinesh started playing a solo on his saxophone, I looked over towards the bar and noticed three men sitting there pointing toward the band, laughing, and making strange hand motions imitating the saxophone playing. I hoped that Dinesh and the other guys in the band weren’t noticing as well. The guys making the gestures were dressed in grubby clothes: faded flannel shirts and dirty blue jeans. They looked vaguely familiar. Earlier I had seen them coming in the back door, I’m sure to avoid paying the cover charge. I could have said something at the time, but they looked like they would contribute to the cause buying their drinks.

  After Dinesh’s solo ended, everyone clapped except these three clowns. I continued to watch them. When I saw someone vacate a seat next to one of them, I quickly excused myself and went over to the bar and sat on the empty stool, trying to hear what the men were saying.

  They were drinking heavily as I had suspected they would be. I found it hard to hear what was being said over the music.

  When the song ended, the guy sitting next to me with straggly, greasy hair turned and gave me the once over, then turned back to his buddies. Slurring his speech, he called out to Loren, “Gimme another beer.”

  Loren slammed a bottle of beer down hard on the counter, picked up their money, and walked away.

  The buffoon took a long gulp of his beer, then I heard him calling Dinesh, “a dumb curry muncher.”

  Another guy said, “The cow-kisser.”

  I flinched at their racist remarks, my lip curling up.

  The three of them laughed, and then the next song started.

  A rush of adrenaline tingled through my body. I took my cellphone out of my purse and as nonchalantly as possible, took several photos of them. I was able to get the two guys at the end of the bar and just the side profile of the one sitting next to me. When one of the guys looked towards me, I aimed my camera at the band. I’m sure he thought “groupie”. I instantly thought of Janey having done the same thing, taking photos of the woman who murdered Sybil on the cruise ship. I returned the phone to my purse.

  I stayed at the bar and kept my eye on these guys and my ears open until they left about an hour later. Loren, Janey’s dad, who was bartending, kicked them out, ordering them to leave. He must have overheard their talking as well. I suddenly remembered where I had seen them before. They were the guys who stole Deirdre’s parking space in front of the patisserie.

  After they left, I followed them out to the back parking lot. Leaning against the back of the building in the shadows, I looked at their vehicle as they drove away. It was a pickup truck with writing on the side. I wasn’t able to make out the writing. When they squealed the tires around the corner and sped away going west out-of-town, I noticed a large dent in the left back fender of the truck.

  I went back into the bar and asked Loren if he had ever seen them before.

  “Oh yeah. They’re a rough bunch. They come here every evening after work.”

  “Do you know where they work?”

  “At Pete Rudd’s. Pete’s been hiring a lot of hands, with all of the additional ginseng farms he now has. Thanks to you, I’ve heard.” He smiled.

  My eyebrows shot up involuntarily. “Did they ever mention about Gupta’s or their store?”

  “Those bunch of losers are always talking in a derogatory manner about different races. Sometimes it’s Guptas, sometimes it’s others. I had enough of it tonight. They weren’t going to talk about Dinesh when he’s the reason for this fundraiser.”

  “Right.”

  Loren took a drink order.

  Turning around, I looked for Pete Rudd. He was over at a table with Marissa. I went over and showed Pete the photos. He instantly came up with their names and said he hired them about a month ago. He didn’t act as if he liked the men much. “I may be letting them go soon.”

  I wrote their names down. “Are you sure these are the guys?”

  “Yes. Those are definitely them.”

  Marissa asked to look at the photos. “Pete, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your new hires. They are quite offensive. They’ve been at the patisserie a couple of times always making a disparaging remark about something.”

  I looked at my watch. Midnight. I’d take the photos to Kirk in the morning. Perhaps like murderers who show up at funerals, I thought arsonists might show up at fundraisers.

  Rejoining our table, I sat back and enjoyed the show with Neelam and Deirdre, Elizabeth and John.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saturday, April 9

  “I’VE BEEN WAITING for you, Kay,” Chief Kirk said when I entered his office.

  I opened my eyes wide and gestured towards the chair. “May I?”

  He nodded and with that I sat down.

  Two stained coffee cups sat at one side of his desk. I looked at the empty plate sitting on top of files in front of Kirk. There were the usual crumbs on it. “What do you mean, you were waiting for me? Were there fingerprints on the glass?”

  “No. We didn’t get a report back on that yet. I received a call from your friend Thom Harris.”

  “You mean FBI Special Agent Thom Harris? I didn’t think he’d contact you already. I just talked to him before I came over this morning.”

  “He did and he’s concerned about you. He said I should tell you to keep out of this. I told him I would relay the message even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good.”

  I looked up at the ceiling. “He’s always been protective of me. We go a long way back. We dated in college.”

  “Interesting.”

  He looked about as interested as if I told him I was making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Actually, thinking back on his eating habits, he probably would be more interested in that.

  “He said you have photos of the men at the bar who drove the pickup truck seen near the crime scene.”

  “I do. I printed them out this morning. That’s why I came over.” Didn’t Thom believe I was going to turn the photos over? “I don’t know if it was the same pickup truck that they drove away in, but I bet it was. It did have the aforementioned dent and sign on the side.”

  Kirk wiped sweat from his forehead. “As you know this is a small town.”

  And the population is getting smaller every year with my help, sending people to prison. “The smallest I’ve ever lived in.”

  “We don’t have the equipment for facial recognition.”

  I took the photos out of my purse and handed them to Kirk.

  Kirk took the photos then reached for his reading glasses. He looked at each photo, then put them down on his desk. “These men look familiar. I
’m sure I’ve seen these guy around town. The FBI has facial recognition software to compare with photos in their database. As long as I was just talking with FBI Special Agent Harris, I’ll send these over to him right away. Thank you, Kay.”

  Thom didn’t mention that I had their names? I handed him a sheet of paper with their names on. “You won’t need to. Pete Rudd gave me their names. They’ve been working on his farm for the past month.”

  Kirk put the sheet of paper down and opened the file drawer on the side of his desk. He took out a package of shortbread cookies and proceeded to open it. “I’ll do a background check then.”

  “Good. They may have prior records. Please keep me informed of any results.”

  He didn’t reply to my request, and put several cookies on his plate. After rolling up the cookie package, he put it back in his file cabinet, then started looking through a file on his desk.

  Was that it? His way of dismissing me? “Well, I guess that’s it.”

  Kirk continued looking through his files. He opened one file that I could read since it was upside down. Then he looked up. “Thank you, Kay. You’ll be the first to know.” He went back to his upside down file.

  Fat chance of that.

  He glanced up at me again with eyes that said, ‘Leave.’ Then he looked towards the door.

  I stood up to leave.

  He reached for a cookie, then turned the file around.

  I smiled when he looked up again.

  * * * *

  When I arrived back home, Phil announced that they had made just over $8,000 at the benefit.

  “Wow! I can’t believe it. At The Starlite? I know there are a lot of heavy drinkers in town, but someone must have written out a big fat check to have made that much.”

  “Pete Rudd was quite generous and I was told a number of people paid double, even triple the admission price.”

  I told Phil about the men at the bar that I had taken photos of. It was so late last night by the time I got home, I went straight to bed. I heard Phil come in about an hour later. He always took time to unwind before going to bed and was still asleep when I left for the police station this morning.