“Yes, but that was three phone calls: one to my cell, one to yours and then one to the desk. Plus a bunch of texts. She’s worried that if her labor escalates quickly she won’t have time for three phone calls.” Dan tapped his fingers against the doorjamb.
“Things like that only happen on television,” I protested. “Labor lasts hours.” I’d been reading up. I really wanted to be ready. I really wanted to support my sister.
“I’ll make sure to tell her you said that,” Dan said with a smirk.
“No!” If he did that, Haley might actually scorch the eyebrows right off my face using only the red-hot heat of her rage.
“What’s it worth to you?” he asked.
I knew that tone of voice. He wasn’t teasing. There was a deal to be struck. “What do you want?”
“Lunch for me next time you bring it for Frenchie over there.” He pointed at Antoine.
Antoine shot him a look, but didn’t respond. Most likely because his mouth was full of quiche.
“Deal.” Easy-peasy. “So what’s the deal with Derek?”
Dan blew out a breath. “He’s a piece of work. Near as I can tell, he’s been scamming clients of the hotel since the day he started. There’s a lot of digging to be done.”
“What about Melanie? Do you think he could have . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud. Was Derek a murderer?
Dan leaned against the corridor wall. “I don’t think so, Rebecca. He seems more enamored of Melanie than angry with her. He was impressed with how quickly she turned his scam around to pull him into hers. Something about balls of brass.”
“But you’ll look into it. You’ll make sure, right? Because it seems like he’s just as viable a suspect as Antoine.”
Dan straightened and his eyes narrowed. “I’m looking into it now, Rebecca. I know how to do my job.” He started down the hallway and turned. “Don’t forget about my lunch, okay?”
I nodded and went back to the front desk. I called Haley back as soon as I retrieved my cell phone from Vera.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“At the jail with Antoine. I was dropping off some food.”
It felt like I could hear the steam escaping from her ears into the cell phone. It was a high-pitched sound and it was painful. “You were taking food to Antoine? That’s why you didn’t get my texts?”
“They make you leave your cell phone at the desk when you go in. It’s a rule.” Haley loved rules. Usually if I said something was a rule, she’d accept that and not argue about it at all.
“You were taking food to Antoine?”
I felt as if we’d already established that point, but apparently not. “Yes. He can’t eat the jail food.”
“No, Rebecca. He can eat the jail food. He chooses not to eat the jail food.” I could hear her anger build in her voice.
I knew she was right. To a point. “You don’t understand. Food is like his religion. It’s like asking him to worship at the altar of an inferior god.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Have you really thought through how crazy you’re being? You are potentially going to not be there for a sweet little boy who adores you and counts on you and not be there for the sister who tries to support you in all things and not be there for the man who has been your best friend since you were in grade school because your ex-husband—ex-husband, not even current husband—doesn’t like the food in the jail where he’s being held on suspicion of murder.”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .”
“Stop joking around! This is serious. At least it’s serious to me.” Her voice cracked a little.
“I’m sorry, Leelee. It’s serious to me, too. It all is. I swear I will be here for you and Evan and Dan when the Peanut comes. I swear it.”
“You can swear all you want. I want some cold, hard proof. Drop this business about Antoine. He has a lawyer. Let her deal with him.”
I sighed. She didn’t understand how pathetic Antoine looked shrinking to nothing in that hideous orange jumpsuit. “I hear you.”
“Good. Now pick up a gallon of milk on your way home, please.”
“Will do.” That’s what the texts had been about? Milk? I was afraid my head was going to explode before that baby popped out of my sister.
I went out the side entrance again, hoping to avoid the crowds out front. Either someone had gotten wise or I simply wasn’t as slick as I thought, because before I could take more than a step or two, I heard someone yell, “Hey, that’s Rebecca!”
Suddenly, Yolanda Barnett was jogging around the corner to me. “Rebecca, have there been any developments in Antoine’s case? Was last night’s arrest at the hotel related to the murder of Melanie Fitzgerald? What were you bringing into the prison? Was it for Antoine?”
I started to open my mouth to answer, but before anything came out, one of the Belanger Bunnies was shouting, “Are you trying to poison him, Rebecca? Isn’t it enough that you broke his heart? Must you break his spirit and body, too?”
Yolanda turned to me, wide-eyed. “Has Antoine been poisoned?”
“Of course not,” I said. “He just doesn’t like bologna. Or Miracle Whip.”
“Someone poisoned the Miracle Whip?” she asked.
“No. No poison. No poison anywhere.” This was going wrong spectacularly fast.
“You’re the poison,” the Belanger Bunny said, shaking her sign at me. “You are.”
That was it. I needed to get out of there. I pushed through the mob with both Yolanda and the Bunny following me.
“Rebecca, how is Antoine? Is he keeping his spirits up?” Rick Day (hot chocolate and a coconut breakfast bar) yelled after me.
“That’s it! Run! That’s what you do best, isn’t it, Rebecca?” the Bunny yelled.
Another reporter, Dwayne Hall from the Toledo Times (black coffee, two sugars, pumpkin-spice breakfast bar) stepped into my way with a microphone. “Is there a reason that you’re bringing food in to Antoine? Is he concerned someone might poison him?”
A third reporter, Viola Kays from WZYN (coffee with skim milk, but lots of it, and chocolate-chip breakfast bar) shouted a question at me, and then another Bunny joined the first one to chant.
I turned left and then right, but couldn’t see a way past the crowd. I felt like I couldn’t get a full breath into my lungs and my heart pounded. Soon all I could hear was my blood pounding in my ears, and my vision started to blur a bit at the edges. For a second I thought I might faint.
Then a strong arm circled my waist. “Easy there.”
Garrett. Garrett was there with his arm around my waist. He stuck his arm out in front of him like a football player blocking a rusher and marched me away from the building saying, “No comment. No comment,” over and over again.
When we finally made it through the throng, I was so relieved I thought I might cry. They kept following us, though. Then suddenly a barrage of ringtones went off at once. I glanced over my shoulder. All the Bunnies were pulling their cell phones out of their pockets and purses. Then they turned back toward the jail like a school of fish all moving at once.
“What’s happening?” Viola asked one of them.
“An alert. Something’s happening back at the jail,” she said.
Rick Day asked, “Do you know what?”
“No. But we’re heading back there,” another Bunny said.
The press also turned back, some of them running.
I had no idea what the scoop was and at the moment, I didn’t care. “Where did you come from?” I asked Garrett.
“I was going to the courthouse when I heard the commotion.” He turned to face me on the sidewalk.
“And you came over to see what was happening?” We started down the sidewalk to put more distance between us and the mob, even if their attention had turned elsewhere. T
hey were fickle.
He shrugged. “It occurred to me that it might be related to Antoine and therefore to you. You guys are pretty much the only commotion-worthy thing happening in town.”
“I wish we were a little less commotion-worthy.”
“Do you?” he asked.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I stopped walking.
“It means that your involvement at this point is pretty much voluntary.” He took my elbow and urged me on.
“We’ve been over this. I can’t let him be convicted of something I’m convinced he didn’t do.”
“Which is why you found him a lawyer.”
“Do we have to fight?”
Before he could answer, Lucy jogged up to us. “Rebecca, I was hoping to find you. What’s going on? Are they going to let Antoine go?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But that Derek person had our equipment and Melanie’s jewelry. Obviously she caught him stealing and he killed her to keep her quiet,” Lucy said. “Right?”
“It’s still not certain what happened, Lucy. Dan’s looking into it, but he didn’t seem to think Derek would have gone that far.”
“But now there’s another suspect. They can’t charge two people at once. They have to let Antoine go,” Lucy said.
I shook my head. “Derek hasn’t been charged with the murder. He’s been charged with theft.”
Lucy’s face crumpled. “They have to let Antoine go. They just have to.” She launched herself at me and began to sob against my shoulder.
Garrett rolled his eyes at me and indicated with a nod of his head that he was leaving. I didn’t blame him.
Lucy finally stopped crying and looked up at me. “Could you give me a ride back to the hotel?”
* * *
I’d managed to limp back to POPS with a weeping Lucy attached to me like a limpet on a rock. When I told him where I was going, Dario shook his head. “First you make him lunch. Now you’re acting as a chauffeur for his crew. Girl, you got no boundaries whatsoever when it comes to that man.”
“I have tons of boundaries. At least, I used to. I used to have a pretty big chunk of the contiguous United States as a boundary.”
“That’s distance. It’s a totally different thing,” he said.
I didn’t know how to argue that, so I took my dog and got into the Jeep with Lucy. She had calmed down a little. Before I started the car, my phone beeped with a text. It was from an unknown number and said only: You’re Welcome.
I frowned at it, wondering what it meant.
“Who’s that?” Lucy asked.
“No idea.” I put the phone back in my jacket pocket and started the car.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lucy moaned as we made our way to the Grand Lake Inn.
“About what?” There were so many possibilities. I wasn’t sure which she was talking about.
“About Antoine. I know he didn’t do it.” She pounded on the dashboard with her fists. Sprocket sat up in the backseat and whined.
I reached back and patted him to reassure him. Loud noises don’t agree with him since the whole gunshot-in-the-lighthouse affair. “I don’t think he did, either,” I said, turning onto Chestnut Street.
“If they’re not going to arrest Derek for it, what should we do next?” she asked as we pulled up to the hotel.
“Dan is investigating, Lucy. I think we let him do his job.” He may have settled on Antoine as a suspect a little too fast, but I could see that he was considering other possibilities.
“That lawyer lady said that Dan had a thing against Antoine.” She turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Because of you.”
“Antoine may not be Dan’s favorite person, but he still wouldn’t want an innocent man to be convicted.”
“If you say so.” Lucy got out of the car and slammed the door. Sprocket yipped and hunkered down in the backseat.
I watched as Lucy went into the lobby of the hotel, and patted my poor skittish dog. As I was about to put the Jeep in gear, I saw movement in the bushes over on the edge of the circular driveway. I waited and then saw more movement. Then I saw a woman walking out of the bushes and onto the sidewalk. The same woman I’d seen in the coffee shop the morning Melanie died. The same woman who’d been crying at the antique shop. The same woman who had been lurking outside my shop and outside the lighthouse when the crew was filming. I called Dan.
“I see her, Dan. I see the mystery woman.”
“Where?” he asked.
“Outside the hotel. I was dropping off Lucy. The woman was hiding in the bushes in front of the hotel.” How sinister was that? He had to pay attention now.
He yawned. “Does anyone else see her this time?”
“Sprocket does. Don’t you, boy?” I asked him, patting him on the head.
He yipped. I put the Jeep in gear and started creeping down the driveway to keep the woman in view.
“Sprocket can’t testify,” Dan said.
The woman glanced over her shoulder and picked up her pace. “Damn it. I think she’s seen me.” I went a little faster. She broke into a run, but instead of staying on the sidewalk, she took off into the fields.
“Rebecca. Don’t engage,” Dan said.
I put the Jeep in park, dropped my phone, and took off after her, not even bothering to shut the car door. “Wait!” I called. “I just want to talk to you.”
She picked up her pace.
I don’t run. Ever. Well, maybe if I’m late for a plane, but that’s about it. Antoine runs. Garrett runs. Even Dan puts in the occasional miles. I do not. I don’t get it. Right then, however, I wished I’d at least jogged a few steps now and then. My breath came in gasps and the woman was increasing the distance between us. My legs felt leaden. There was no way I was going to catch her before she hit the wooded edge of the field. If she made it in there, I’d never find her. She could hide behind a tree, under a bush, almost anywhere. Then something shot past me. A furry apricot bullet intent on one thing, his prey, and for once it wasn’t some toddler’s toy. Sprocket caught up with the woman and leapt, knocking into her back. The woman sprawled to the ground.
I caught up with them. Sprocket stood over her, panting.
“Get him off,” she said. “Please. Don’t hurt me.”
I didn’t point out that he wasn’t even growling and had never bit anyone. He had, after all, just tackled her. It was good sense on her part to be afraid. I grabbed his collar and extended a hand down to her to help her up. By the time we’d made it back to where I’d left my car, Dan had already arrived.
Ten
The woman’s name was Marisela Santos. I knew that because that was the name of the complainant on the assault charge that Dan handed me after making sure that Ms. Santos did not need medical attention.
“I can’t believe you’re giving me the complaint!” I stared at the official form Dan had put in my hands. “She’s the one who’s lurking. You should be taking her down to the station and questioning her.”
He crouched down to scratch Sprocket behind the ears. “I can’t believe I’m giving you a complaint, either. I should be arresting you. I should be taking you in handcuffs down to the jail and scheduling an arraignment. The only reason I’m not is I’m pretty sure your sister might leave me if I arrested you right now.” He glared at me. “Or possibly stab me in my sleep. One or the other. Maybe both.”
“What?” I squawked. “I am not the one at fault here.”
“Really? Because as near as I can tell you chased down a woman who claims not to know who you are and knocked her flat to the ground,” he said.
“She ran from me and it was actually Sprocket who knocked her down,” I protested, shrinking back a little.
“Running from you is not grounds for assault. You’re lucky she doesn’t want Sprocket impounded. If he’d bitten her, I wouldn�
�t have a choice.”
“Dan, she’s involved somehow in this case.” I kicked at the ground with my toe. “She’s been lurking all over town! Why is she here?”
“Again, lurking is not grounds for assault. It’s not your business to find out why she’s here or anything else.” He turned to walk back to his car. He called over his shoulder, “Go home, Rebecca.”
* * *
I went to POPS instead. I considered taking a selfie and texting it to Dan with a caption reading, “You’re not the boss of me,” but thought I might be pushing my luck.
Faith and her two daughters were at the store having a post-soccer-practice hot chocolate when Sprocket and I got there.
“You look sweaty, Rebecca,” Ella said.
“Be nice,” Faith said, wiping her daughter’s chocolate-milk mustache off her.
“She’s right. I am sweaty. I ran.” I collapsed down in a chair at their table.
“How far?” While Faith wiped Ella’s face, Jeannette began poking her finger into her mug of hot chocolate and then licking her finger.
“I’d say at least twenty-five yards or so.” It might have been farther, but I didn’t want to brag.
“Were you being chased?” Faith looked up, a smile on her face.
“No. I was doing the chasing. Luckily Sprocket is better at chasing than me.” Or maybe not since I was now facing an assault charge.
Faith set her mug down. “Who on earth were you chasing?”
“Remember that woman? The one you thought was shoplifting in the store? I keep seeing her everywhere. She’s always skulking or lurking around here. I wanted to know who she was and why.” And now I’d completely blown getting to talk to her at all. Way to keep my eyes on the prize.
“Oh, that.” Faith caught Jeannette’s hand and wiped hot chocolate off it. Her smile faded. “Don’t play with your drink.”
“I’m just trying to sink the marshmallows.” Jeannette pouted.
“What do you mean, oh, that?” I went behind the counter to get more marshmallows for Jeannette to play Battleship with.
“I didn’t really tell you the whole story the other day.” Faith took a sip of her own hot chocolate.
Pop Goes the Murder Page 15
