Grand Prize: Murder!

by Vivian Conroy

  Vicky smiled sweetly. “I intend to buy one as soon as I can afford it. Renovations and stock for the store have been my priority of course. Right now Marge was good enough to lend me hers.”

  She could just kick her mother for drawing attention to the car thing. Cash now certainly sensed something wrong. If Vicky and Marge were in it together…

  A waitress halted and took their order. Cash had already ordered for him and his deputy because their clam chowders arrived soon after. Cash said the deputy had to come in to eat it warm, but Claire said Mr. Pug needed a good walk and told Cash to stay seated. “It will be hot enough. We can wait till all our orders are here.” She then threw Vicky an obvious come on, hurry up look. Vicky could just scream. She should never have taken her mother! She meant well, but this was…

  “Did you get a fake Glen Cove Gazette this morning?” she asked.

  Cash shook his head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I guess it is nothing.” Vicky smiled. She was not going to repeat what it had said in front of Cash. Especially not the bit about them dating!

  “How is the town holding up?” Claire asked. “No calls to the station yet to report my daughter?”

  “Your daughter?” Cash seemed shocked. “Why would anybody want to report Vicky?”

  “Well, there seems to be some loudmouth reporter out for a score who is accusing Vicky of having planned the whole thing. Including the murder. As a publicity stunt.”

  “Nonsense,” Cash said. “Vicky is only losing customers in this situation. I blame this DuBree and his team. They created the muddle.”

  Claire nodded. “Right you are. And I wish we knew just a little bit more about the victim so we could prove it. I mean, why would a local person kill an unknown man? It makes no sense.”

  “I’m certain he was killed because he put his nose into other people’s business,” Cash said. He held Claire’s gaze and smiled. “That can be very dangerous.”

  Claire blinked. “The victim was a blackmailer?”

  Cash realized his irony was lost on the nice old lady and sighed. “We suppose he was. We found some papers among his things that pointed us in the right direction.”

  Vicky sat up straight now. “So there is actually proof of Bella’s involvement in an old crime?” That would make things worse, she supposed, not better.

  Claire shifted in her seat.

  Cash looked her over, reluctantly. He clearly wasn’t eager to share evidence discovered in the victim’s hotel room with one of the most talkative little old ladies in Glen Cove at his table.

  “Mom,” Vicky said, “why don’t you go see where the nice deputy is with the dogs, huh? Mr. Pug can be so fussy when he doesn’t know someone well.”

  Claire looked offended that she was being dismissed so soon, but then she did get up and smiled down at Cash. “Right you are. I will be right back.”

  Vicky eyed her mother’s back suspiciously. What was Claire up to now? It wasn’t like her to just leave when asked to.

  But she didn’t have much time to consider her mother’s intentions with the deputy outside. She leaned over to Cash. “So tell me about this paperwork you discovered. Why didn’t you mention it to me sooner?”

  Cash rolled his eyes. “Why would I?”

  “It could make all the difference for the case.”

  “So?” Cash seemed set on playing innocent.

  Vicky exhaled. “I’ve got something for you too. But it’s a two-way street.”

  Cash sighed. “You watch too many TV shows.”

  Vicky leaned over further. “So?”

  “It seems that in the past this guy was a guard at an art gallery. Bella Brookes went there when she was still unknown as a cozy author. At the time she was writing some of the darker crime books. She needed information about security in art galleries for her latest book and met up with the owner of said gallery so he could show her around and explain about his security system. Right after that meeting the art gallery was robbed. The guard believed that Bella lied about needing the information for a book. He thinks she had a look around to find out all she could about the system and then told everything to the thieves.”

  “That is his whole allegation?” Vicky sat up in disbelief. “That is hardly worth anything. He only thought, conjectured. I assume the police looked into it at the time and never found any connection?”

  “Well, Bella Brookes did go on a cruise shortly after. The guard thinks she used the money made with the information sale to pay for that trip. She was not exactly well-to-do at the time.”

  Vicky shrugged. “It says so little. I figured he had much more. You must see that Bella had no motive to kill him.”

  “I haven’t found anyone else with a motive to kill him either.” Cash leaned on the table. “I do feel sorry for her. She refuses to call an attorney or anyone else. And nobody came to see her yesterday or today. Not even this PR guy DuBree. I think he doesn’t care she is in there. I offered to get her some things, and she only asked for a pad and pencil. Seems to have some idea for some book. I don’t understand how you can think about a book when you’re under such serious suspicions.”

  Vicky tilted her head. What was Bella up to with a pad and pencil? She said quickly, “Could I come and see her tonight? Like you said, it’s kind of sad she has no visitors at all.”

  Cash grunted. “Just don’t go telling her things.”

  “Of course not.” Vicky was relieved to see her mother at the door with the deputy and the dogs. Claire looked at her, and Vicky nodded lightly.

  Claire came up at once, calling out that she loved clam chowder. She slipped into the seat beside Vicky, kicking her under the table.

  Vicky suppressed a wince and glanced at her mother, who widened her eyes as if to say she had learned something important from the deputy.

  Just then their order came, and they all ate. Cash cast Vicky suspicious looks, probably because she had not given him anything in exchange for what he had given her, while Vicky tried to avoid Claire’s foot that kept kicking into hers under the table. If this lasted any longer, she’d have bruises.

  Fortunately the deputy seemed to be in a rush to finish lunch and get going. As Cash rose with him to go, Claire said innocently, “Good luck, Sheriff. I bet that with your past in the Cub Scouts you should be able to do better than most of the other participants.”

  Cash flushed tomato red.

  Vicky stared at him. “You are going on the scavenger hunt now? The coordinates business that was going to be provided by email this morning?”

  “That email came in around nine,” Cash said. “So I bet I am already late to start with it.”

  He nodded at Claire. “Enjoy the rest of your lunch.” And he rushed off, his deputy in tow.

  Claire looked at Vicky and laughed at her incredulous expression. “Men will always be boys. Give them a challenge, and they all want to win.”

  “Cash should be devoting all of his attention to the case,” Vicky groused. “Bella is in jail, abandoned by her own people, while the sheriff is looking for a fake suspect in some game to win a trip for two to London.”

  She dropped her spoon in the bowl. “I don’t really want this. And why were you kicking me all of the time?”

  “Our sheriff did do a great job this morning,” Claire said in a whisper. “The deputy was nice enough to tell me, I guess because he was a little excited about it, that they followed the trail of this Lisa Coombs to an airport where she left her car. She must have flown out of state. Under her own name, apparently, for they found no booking under Coombs.”

  Vicky held her gaze. “You make it sound like it’s good news, but I don’t see it yet. How can they ever figure out who she really was?”

  “Well, guess what? Cash secured some fingerprints off the car. He is running them through various databases to see if they’re on file. I bet that if this lady impersonated people before, she will be known.” Claire smiled triumphantly. “Don’t be too rough on ou
r new sheriff. He is trying.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Vicky picked up her spoon again. Suddenly her appetite was back.

  Lisa Coombs’ real identity might be the key to it all!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vicky felt very self-conscious when she went to the police station that night, as if the paparazzi would be waiting in the brush to snap a shot of her. It was nonsense of course, but still she had put on a sweater with a hood and pulled it over her head when she came in sight of the station. She didn’t even take the time to lock her bike, but ran in and stood at the desk panting.

  The deputy came over with a mega grin. “I’m still in the treasure hunt,” he said. “At least I think I am. Of course I could have been led to the wrong coordinates, but the location makes total sense in view of the murder victim’s occupation.”

  He leaned over and whispered, “The sheriff got a different result. So, one of us is wrong. I hope it will be him. I want to go to London.”

  “For Baker Street?”

  “Are you kidding me? For Wembley Stadium. I love football.”

  Cash popped out of his office, a sandwich in his hand. “Hi. Come on in.” He looked cheerful, and Vicky just bet he was sure he had found the right coordinates.

  Cash waved her into his office, but Vicky said she was here for Bella.

  Cash sighed, his expression filling with worry. “You have to get something out of her that can help us clear her.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Vicky was brought to the cell and locked in with Bella.

  Bella smiled at her wearily. She looked much the same, but still her brightness had faded as if all the gray stone around her had rubbed off on her. She lifted the pad and pencil. “I was drawing up a list of suspects. Not for a mystery of my own, but for the murder of that guard.”

  See. Vicky had known Bella was up to something. Who could better solve a real-life murder than someone who was used to thinking up such scenarios?

  Vicky sat down beside her. “Are you OK? Have you had lunch? Dinner?”

  “Oh, yes, the sheriff is a food lover himself, so he got me some nice stuff from the diner. I think the food in here is better than what I beep up for myself in the microwave. Look, when I was in college I lived in a room that was smaller than this. I never had any money, so I lived on water and bread. It can’t get any worse than it was back then.”

  Vicky’s stomach knotted. Bella admitted herself that she had been in need of money. But at the same time she had suddenly had enough to go on a cruise. The art theft, the gallery…

  Was there some dubious connection? Some criminal behavior on Bella’s part?

  Vicky cleared her throat. “Do you remember when you were still writing darker crime and you visited an art gallery to find out about security?”

  Bella nodded. “Yes, that was a hoot. The gallery was robbed shortly after, and I was accused of having sold off my insider knowledge to a gang. Like you suddenly know an art gang. I had never even drunk beer when under age. I was very decent. Upset that they accused me of it.”

  Vicky held her gaze. “You went on a cruise shortly after. How did you pay for that?”

  Bella sat up, her eyes turning dark with disappointment. “The sheriff sent you in here to question me. Different face, same purpose. Sorry, but I think you should leave.”

  “Bella, you don’t understand. You are suspected of murder. This will not just go away. You need people to help you out. To find the evidence to clear you.”

  Bella blinked. “What does the past have to do with that? You’re not looking for evidence to clear me but to accuse me. To find motive for the murder.”

  “OK.” Vicky lifted placating hands. “Let’s try it differently. Do you know whether Paul DuBree had problems before with people accusing him of dishonesty with his book tour gadgets? Some rumor popped up that there is something artificial about the website used. Could it be more than a rumor?”

  “Hmmm. Paul is always being accused of something. Foremost of being a heartless bastard. And he is.” Bella sounded bitter. “But I don’t think he ever got in real trouble. He is too smart for that.”

  “Suppose the victim had something on him and threatened to expose it. Would Paul have killed him?”

  “I don’t think so. Paul has a legal department that fights all of his battles. He need not do anything himself. He also abhors violence. At least that is what he says.” She smiled ruefully as if she knew better.

  “How long have you known Paul?”

  Bella sat motionless. “For a long time. Even before he or I were well-known.”

  “So you met again as your careers progressed and worked together, but you were really old friends?”

  “What of it?”

  “I’m just trying to establish whether he would harm you. I can’t understand what he is about. Look at you. Locked up and he doesn’t even send a lawyer. Do you think he could have planted the fake Lisa Coombs on you for some reason?”

  “No. Never. He would not take the chances of employing someone with a hidden agenda.”

  That made sense. But if the woman Paul had been kissing in the conservatory had really been ‘Lisa’, there seemed to be more between them than they had admitted to.

  Vicky thought for a moment. “What did Sydney Haverton show you when you disappeared upstairs for a long time?”

  “Oh, some art his sister collects. Nothing special.”

  The answer came too quickly, too casually.

  Vicky couldn’t quite make out what the look in Bella’s eyes betrayed. “Did you discuss anything with Sydney? Like that you were under threat or…” Had he acted the gallant hero, maybe under the influence of too much drink, and clubbed the guard?

  “No, I hardly know him. And how do you know about the threats?”

  Vicky realized she had the unwelcome task of explaining to Bella about her car. She explained as briefly as she could that the garage was not sure if the brake line had busted because of lack of maintenance.

  “Or if somebody tried to cut it,” Bella said. She was pale, and her arms filled with gooseflesh. “With the way I drive, at high speed, failure of the brakes could be lethal.”

  Vicky took her hand and squeezed it. “Who is after you? Do you know?”

  “No, honestly. I have no enemies. Or I like to think I don’t.” Bella sighed. “Are the papers very rude about me? Are they saying I deserve this?”

  “There is one reporter making a big fuss. One Grace Dinks.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “She should be the last person to turn up here.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Bella clutched the notepad she had scribbled on. “She contacted me in the UK and asked if she could report on my book tour, exclusively. She had these wild plans about doing a live blog and all these social media things. I wasn’t too crazy about it and told her so. Then she got vicious, told me I was old news and would soon fall off the bestseller lists like yesterday’s brown leaves. I hung up on her. Last thing I heard of her she was traveling to some camp in Canada to do an item on survival. I thought she was better off there.”

  Vicky nodded thoughtfully. “Well, right after she came back from Canada, she came here and found the spoils waiting for her. She is reporting on your murder case, her way. Like she is some independent news source. Irritating but hopefully not too harmful.”

  Bella nodded. “Let Paul release a statement that your store had nothing to do with it. With the book signing, the contents of the scavenger hunt, any of it. I don’t want you to suffer.”

  “I don’t think Paul is ready to do that just yet.” Vicky checked her watch. Time was flying, and Bella was not giving her much. “Is there anything you can tell me that may be interesting, relevant for your case? How about the guard taking photos of you, before the party? Did you know that? Notice him?”

  Bella frowned. “Before the party? I might have seen a man with a camera. But hey, this is a tourist town. How could I know he was snapping me? What for
?”

  “I think he remembered that he knew you from the art gallery and he believed he could make money off the old story. It gives you an excellent motive for the murder—and nobody else.”

  Bella sat thinking.

  There were footfalls and the rattle of keys. Cash was coming already.

  Vicky grabbed Bella’s arm. “Anything? Give me something to help you with.”

  Bella tore the list off her pad and handed it to Vicky. “Take this. I have nothing more to say.”

  Vicky glanced down the list. Instead of names it just said: possible suspects: the old flame, the ex-husband, the disinherited child, the illegal gambler, the stealing butler, the pregnant model, the …

  She looked up at Bella. “This gives me nothing. At all.”

  Cash was behind her opening the cell door. “Time to go, Vicky. You can come back tomorrow if you like. Keep her company some more.”

  Vicky clutched the sheet with the seemingly meaningless list.

  Cash looked at it. “What’s that?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Something my publisher needs. For my book.” Bella looked defiant. “Vicky offered to call it in for me. I do have to think about my deadlines.”

  Cash grunted. “Deadlines might not be very relevant anymore if you get charged.” He shook his head and let Vicky out.

  She stared back at Bella through the bars. She was still certain Bella was shielding someone.

  But who?

  And why?

  “There must be something in this list,” Marge said in a tone of concentration. “A hidden clue. The disinherited child. Did the guard have children? Ex… Was his ex-wife at the party in disguise and did she kill him? The illegal gambler… What on earth can that mean? I didn’t even see people play cards there. Oh, maybe it means that the guard was a gambler and he needed money desperately?”

  Vicky shook her head. “Those are all wild guesses that don’t really help. We are running out of time. I bet Grace Dinks is spreading a new fake front page tomorrow morning. I wonder what will be on it.”

  Marge exhaled slowly. “Does she know about Lisa Coombs’ car being found and fingerprints lifted off it? That would be a nice headline. Could spook somebody.”