“And she killed him,” Warren said quietly.
Was the entire room suddenly silent or was our table cloaked in a special cylinder of stillness?
I took a long drink of my Coke. “Did you tell Trent your suspicions?”
“Of course we did,” Warren said.
“What did he say to that?” I knew the answer already.
Maggie spread her hands, palms-up. “Nothing. He just nodded and kept asking questions.”
“It’s what he does,” I said. “It’s a cop thing.” That was true, but an ugly little voice inside my head suggested Trent didn’t want to think that Kathleen killed somebody, that he still harbored feelings for her. I needed to give that ugly little voice some chocolate and shut it up.
“Adam’s doing the same thing he did when he was little. He’s looking the other way and letting her get away with lying,” Maggie said.
Warren frowned. “Letting her get away with murder.”
Told you so, told you so, told you so.
Maggie leaned forward. “Will you talk to him? Will you convince him to consider her as a suspect?”
“I tried. He keeps taking up for her, making excuses for her.”
That’s because he still—
I coughed in an effort to drown out the sound of that obnoxious voice. Shut up!
Warren sighed. “After what she did to him, you’d think he’d want to prove her guilty.”
“That probably makes him bend over backward not to judge her, to be fair.” I dared that annoying voice to contradict me and say he still had feelings for her. You keep mouthing off, I warned it, and I’ll make you drink Pepsi. Diet Pepsi.
That shut it up.
“Yes, that’s probably the way Adam sees this situation. He’s always given Kathy the benefit of the doubt no matter what she did. I just never thought…” Maggie’s voice trailed off, not finishing the thought. Never thought she’d kill him.
Warren reached across the table and patted his wife’s hand. She blinked back tears.
“I’m working to find evidence against her,” I blurted.
They both looked at me.
“You are? Are you an investigator or something?” Maggie’s gaze traveled around the room and back. “I thought you…this place…”
“Yeah, I make chocolate. I’m not an investigator. But I have a friend who…” I hesitated. I couldn’t tell an outright lie, especially after hearing her disdain for Kathleen’s lying. “My friend does things like tracking down killers.” That was true. “He assists law enforcement sometimes.” They didn’t ask for his help or for mine, but we gave it to them anyway.
“Is he some kind of a special agent?” Maggie asked.
I thought about that one. “Very special.”
“Can we talk to him?” Warren asked.
“I’ll contact him and see if I can set up something.”
Maggie squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”
Warren scrawled a phone number on a napkin. “Just let us know when.”
I accepted the napkin. “Your son left a key under his plate. A small key. Do you have any idea what it might go to?”
Both shook their heads.
“Jeff had one of those key rings with so many keys, it made his pocket sag,” Maggie said. “He had keys to his house, our house, his offices in both cities…I have no idea what all the keys went to. Do you think it’s important?”
“Maybe.” Oh, good grief! I was starting to sound like Trent. “Did he ever mention hiding something from Kathleen?”
“Jeff was a very open person,” Maggie said. “He’s never hidden things. When he was little and it was his turn to hide the Easter eggs, he always left them in plain sight.”
Had the key slipped from his wallet accidentally after all?
Even if that was true, he’d had the key in his wallet, not on his key ring. It guarded something important. The intruder in black thought so.
“If you think of anything he wanted to hide, let me know.”
They nodded.
“Did your son know Trent and I were dating?”
“Oh, yes. He went online to find out how Adam was doing. A couple of months ago he said Adam was dating a wonderful girl who operated a restaurant in the space where Percy’s Bar and Grill used to be.”
“He knew who I was when he came in here.”
“Of course.”
He left the key for me, girlfriend of the cop he knew was one hundred ten percent honest.
That key was important.
The Gablers left after promising to let me know if they remembered anything else or if they came across anything with a new lock on it. In turn, I promised them I would set up an appointment with my “special agent” friend.
They were the last customers in the place so I locked the door behind them.
Paula and I divided the leftover desserts and began cleanup. While I lifted chairs onto table tops and she mopped behind me, I told her what I’d learned from the Gablers.
“That proves it,” I summarized. “Kathleen murdered her husband. Trent refuses to see it because he’s still taking care of her.”
Paula paused and leaned on her mop. “You don’t have any proof. All you have are theories. And I find it hard to believe Trent would fail to do his duty no matter what. Much as he cares for you, if you committed a crime, he’d come after you. Besides, you said Lawson’s taken the lead. He has no stake in Kathleen’s guilt or innocence. You and the Gablers hate her so you want her to be guilty.”
I grabbed a chair, turned it over, and set it on the table. Okay, I slammed it on the table. Harder than I intended. Wood on wood. Noisy. I tried to think of a sarcastic remark to refute what she said, something that would tell her exactly what I thought of her disloyalty.
It was hard to come up with an appropriate response when she could be right.
We worked in silence, finishing the outer area and moving to the kitchen.
I closed the dishwasher door on the last load of dishes, and Paula pulled her car keys from her purse. We were ready to leave.
Someone pounded on the back door and shouted my name.
I recognized that shout.
“Go away, Rick!” I shouted back.
“You blabbed to Robin!”
Oops.
“Go away,” I repeated. Neither an admission nor a denial.
“My secretary called to warn me that she’s sitting in my office right now, waiting to attack me, and I have an appointment with a very important client!”
“And I don’t care.”
“It’s your fault I can’t have a business meeting in my office, so you need to let me use your place for my meeting.”
I laughed. “No.”
“If you don’t let me in, I’ll tell the cops you knew all about the drugs in that chocolate and agreed to let us deliver it here.”
“Go ahead.” I knew I shouldn’t engage him in conversation, but I was curious about how the sting thing had gone down. This was my only chance. The cops would never tell me. They’re totally into that secrecy thing. “You’re still alive so I guess that means the drug deal went okay. Is Clayton alive too?”
“Of course he is.” He lowered his voice and I leaned closer to the door. “The deal was a snap. That cop thing your boyfriend does, it’s not so special. You should have seen me today. I had those big bad drug dealers eating out of my hand. There were two of them, and they came on all angry and threatening. One said they’d put guards on the restaurant and your house so you couldn’t take their bag away, and the one on your house didn’t come back. You should have heard that jerk Morton freak out. I had this thing in my ear so he could talk to me, and he almost broke my ear drum. He told me to act innocent, tell the guy I didn’t know anything about it.”
“Hard for you to act innocent, right?”
“I didn’t get to be a top salesman by backing down when somebody brings up a problem. I took the offensive. I got right up in that guy’s face and stabbed my finger into his
chest. ‘You put a guard on my ex-wife’s house? Why did you do that? She doesn’t know anything about all this. I ought to punch you.’ Then I stepped back. ‘So you put a guard on her house and now you’ve lost him. What are you accusing her of? I haven’t even seen your guard, but I can promise you, he’s not her type.’ I threw the package on the ground in front of the guy and turned around to leave. Of course he called me back. Oldest trick in the book, and he fell for it.”
I leaned against the door, speechless. Drug dealers, dangerous men, and Rick saw it all as a deal. I was impressed and aghast.
“I think somebody’s knocking on the front door,” Paula whispered.
The front door’s glass, so the sound wasn’t loud. Nevertheless, I could hear it. My interior walls are thin.
“I’ll go check.” Paula went out front.
Rick’s cell phone rang. “Hi.–Yeah, I’m almost there.–Just hang tight.–Bye.” A moment of silence. “Lindsay, babe, my client’s here. This is your fault. You need to make it right. Open the door.”
Paula came back to the kitchen. “It’s Kathleen!”
“Kathleen?” I repeated. “Your client is Kathleen?”
“She’s moving back here. Going to open her own beauty supply company. I’m helping her find a place. I know you don’t like her, but this is business. We’d be meeting in my office if you hadn’t messed up that plan.”
Kathleen had come to me. I could eavesdrop and hear what she told Rick. Of course he’d brag about outsmarting the drug dealers, and maybe she’d brag about having her husband killed.
I yanked open the door and tried to look apologetic rather than triumphant. “Rick, I’m so sorry I ruined your plans. Of course you can have your business meeting here. Come on in. Paula’s going to let Kathleen in the front door.”
“I am?” Paula asked.
“Of course you are.”
Rick smiled and walked inside.
Sucker.
Chapter Thirteen
I led Rick into the main area of the restaurant.
Kathleen stood just inside the front door looking gorgeous, haughty, and distrustful. Her gaze settled on me. “I didn’t know she was going to be here.”
I bared my teeth in a combination smile and threat. “She owns this place. Have a seat at the counter—” I swept my arm toward the designated area— “and I’ll bring you Cokes and cookies. We already poured out the leftover coffee, but I could make some fresh.” It wouldn’t be drinkable, but I didn’t care.
Both of them looked at me with suspicion. Neither moved.
Maybe I was overdoing the hospitality routine.
I forced the corners of my mouth down and tried to look less like I was gloating. “I know you don’t want to be here, and I don’t want you here. But it’s my fault you have to be. The least I can do is make you comfortable.”
Paula came up behind me. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Paula has to leave to pick up her son, but I have things I can do in the back room to get ready for tomorrow. Feel free to take as long as you need for your meeting. You’ll have complete privacy. This place was once a tavern owned by the Mafia.” Rick’s eyes widened. He’d brokered the deal on the place. “Before the people we bought it from,” I added. “And right behind those swinging doors to the kitchen is a soundproof, bulletproof pocket door.”
Yes, it was a lie. Not about the pocket door. It existed as a way to completely close off the rooms. We’d never used the door. It was flimsy and far from soundproof or bulletproof. However, lying to Rick or Kathleen didn’t count as a real lie since they did it so often. A reciprocal lie balanced out the universe.
Rick was the first to cave. He squeezed my arm briefly. “Thank you for being so gracious about this.” He moved to the counter and motioned Kathleen to join him.
She crossed the room, her gaze never leaving mine. I sent all my brain power to her stiletto heels, willing one of them to trip on the smooth tile. It didn’t happen. I should have eaten more chocolate to increase my brain power.
She eased onto a stool beside Rick.
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll get those cookies and be out of your way.”
I took Paula’s arm and urged her toward the kitchen.
For somebody so small, she’s quite difficult to urge.
As soon as we were in the kitchen she dragged me over to the far corner of the room. “What are you thinking, letting those people use this place for a meeting?” she whispered.
I lifted a finger to my lips. I didn’t want those people to realize how easy it was to hear from the other room. “Go pick up Zack. I’ve got this.”
“No way am I leaving you alone with those two.”
“Hah. You should be worried about leaving those two alone with me. Look, I’m just going to listen to what they have to say, then we’ll all leave.”
“As soon as I get Zach, I’m coming back.”
A burst of laughter exploded from the front area.
“Really? You want to expose your three year old son to those people?”
Paula drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment as if trying to shut out the circumstances around her. “I didn’t lock the front door because I thought she’d be going right back out through it.”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want them to escape.”
“Be careful. Those two are nothing but trouble.”
I lifted her purse and her bag of leftover goodies from the counter. “Go! Zach’s waiting. The babysitter may kick him out and he’ll wander the streets looking for you until he’s an old man because you didn’t have him chipped like I did Henry.”
She left reluctantly.
I grabbed my bag of desserts and headed back to those two.
They were cozy, heads close together, laughing. They looked up when I entered. Rick wore his salesman-of-the-year expression and Kathleen wore her hooker-of-the-year expression.
“All righty,” I said. “I have chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and a couple pieces of Chocolate Caramel Peanut Butter Cake.”
Kathleen turned up her perky little nose. Another creation of the plastic surgeon? “No, thank you.”
“None for me,” Rick said. “I could go for a glass of water, though.”
“You bet. Sure you don’t want a Coke? How about you, Kathleen?”
“Nothing for me.”
I gave Rick a glass of water. “When you’re ready to leave, open the swinging doors and bang on the interior door really loud because I won’t be able to hear you unless you make a loud noise because it’s totally soundproof.”
I pushed through the swinging doors and peeked back at them. They were already cozy again, heads together, laughing.
My ex was flirting with Trent’s ex. That was some serious Jerry Springer type stuff.
I slid the pocket door closed and pressed my ear to it. I could still hear them as if the door was made of paper.
Just to be sure I didn’t miss anything, I grabbed a glass and climbed onto the counter between the kitchen and the outer room. Most of the wall was covered with cabinets, but an area over the sink was clear. I leaned into that space.
It was not a comfortable position, and when my cell phone started to ring, I almost fell in my effort to yank it out of my pocket and answer before the people in the other room realized that if they could hear my cell phone, I might be able to hear them.
It was Trent. Only time I haven’t been happy to hear from him. “Hello.”
“Why are you whispering?”
I leaned around a cabinet and faced away from the wall. “Frog in my throat.” Amphibian in my throat, snakes in the other room.
“Want to go to dinner with Gary tonight at Capelli’s about seven?”
“Sure. Bye.” I set my phone on vibrate and returned my attention to eavesdropping.
I needn’t have rushed my call with Trent. Before long I was sore and bored.
Rick told his story of the morning’s events, emb
ellishing even more than when he told me the story earlier.
Yawn.
Kathleen didn’t reciprocate with her own story of misdeeds. Instead she told him what a brave man he was.
Gag.
Finally Rick brought up the subject of business.
I wasn’t surprised when she rambled aimlessly about what type structure she needed. She had no business plan. Had she just set up this meeting with Rick to flirt with him?
“I’ll get a little money from my husband’s insurance policies,” she said (a little?), “but not enough to live on. I need to invest in some kind of business.”
“If you’re interested in purchasing real estate strictly as an investment, I can help you with that. There are several different directions we could go, all of them profitable.”
“That might be a good choice. I don’t have a lot of job skills. My husband didn’t want me to work. He was abusive and didn’t want me out in the world, meeting other people, telling them what he did to me, letting them see my bruises.”
“I’m so sorry.” Rick’s words of sympathy dripped with the insincere tones of a con man.
“It does something to a woman’s soul to be hit by a man.”
She was bragging again, claiming to have a soul.
“I can’t imagine why a man would ever hit a woman.”
He sounded so sanctimonious, I wanted to climb off the counter, charge into the other room, and confront him.
Cheat, steal, lie, berate, and demean a woman, that was okay. Everything was fine as long as he didn’t hit her.
But I was on a mission and we were headed in the right direction. Kathleen was talking about her husband.
Super salesman Rick brought the subject back to investing in real estate. Damn him and his greedy little heart.
A bell jingled.
I had forgotten to lock the front door. Was Kathleen escaping before I got anything usable from her?
I started to climb down.
“What are you doing here?” Kathleen from the other room. Obviously she hadn’t escaped. Someone had entered. Someone she knew. Someone she didn’t want to see, judging by the panic in her voice.
Deadly Chocolate Addiction (Death by Chocolate Book 6) Page 12
