A Candidate For Murder (Old Maids of Mercer Island Mysteries Book 2)

by Lynn Bohart

  “What can I do for you, Julia? If it’s about my endorsement, you have it,” he declared openly. “I think you’d make a fine mayor.”

  I laughed. “No. It’s not about that. In fact,” I said, pausing. “I…uh…well, I’ve decided to drop out of the race.”

  “Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with a genuine look of disappointment.

  I sighed. “Yes. You probably heard about Trudy Bascom’s murder.”

  He grabbed a pencil and began tapping it nervously on the desk. “Yes. Tragic.”

  “You know the target was actually Dana Finkle?”

  He nodded. “The Chief of Police gave us a briefing. I’m not surprised by that. I didn’t really know Mrs. Bascom very well, but she seemed like a very gentle person. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to harm her.”

  “Not like Dana?” I added.

  He winced. “Let’s face it. You know better than anyone what she can be like. Last month at the City Council meeting she actually said that people with disabilities were forcing the rest of the general public to make too many changes that interfered with their freedoms. She knew perfectly well I was sitting right there.”

  “She has her moments,” I lamented. “But no one should try to kill her.”

  “No,” he said, rolling the pencil into his fist. “I suppose no one should do that.” He dropped his gaze to his desk and seemed lost in thought.

  “Anyway,” I said, bringing his attention back to me. “I’m here for another reason. Dana agreed to drop out of the mayoral race if I would.”

  He looked at me curiously. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I never really wanted to run for mayor. But I was convinced if I didn’t run that Dana would most certainly win. And I couldn’t stand for that.”

  I felt my temperature rise slightly at just the thought of her amphibian gaze contemplating me from behind the mayor’s desk, had she won.

  “I know what you mean,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’d already started looking for a new job. So, now what?” he asked. “I don’t remember anyone else filing.”

  I shifted in my seat. “No one else has filed that I’m aware of. That’s why I think you should do it.”

  He stared at me for a moment, his facial muscles frozen in place. He finally took a breath and said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I’m not,” I declared with certainty. “Tony, you’re the most competent city administrator we’ve ever had. You’re smart. You’re hard-working. You’re good with people. And you love this island. What more could we want?”

  “But I’m not a politician.”

  “Neither am I, and yet you and many others were willing to overlook that and endorse me.”

  He got up and moved awkwardly to stare out the window. “After the military, I thought I’d have my own company. My uncle owned a construction company, and I worked my way up through the trades when I was younger. I could hammer and plaster with the best of them. I thought since I’d worked in so many areas of construction, I’d come back after my service and build up my own crew over time.” He held out his left hand and glanced down at it. “But Afghanistan changed all of that,” he said, flexing the prosthetic fingers. “I had to have a lot of rehab as a result of my injuries, and I suffered from PTSD. I had to spend a lot of time in counseling. My chance was lost.” He turned to me. “So I went back to school and got a degree in business and came to work for the city. I’m happy with the job I have. But it’s not what I really planned to do. And I’m not sure I want to be mayor.”

  I stood up. “Just promise me you’ll think about it,” I said. “The filing deadline isn’t for a couple of weeks. And my guess is that once it becomes known that both Dana and I have dropped out, a long list of wannabes will quickly file. We need someone who knows what they’re doing, Tony. That’s you.” I gave him my warmest smile.

  He nodded. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  “Good. Now I’ve got to get going,” I said, standing up. “By the way, I hope we’ll see you at the reception for Jason Spears on Friday.”

  “Yes, I plan to be there. I’m not sure I believe in ghosts like you do, but it should be interesting. Is he going to read from his book?”

  “I think so. But they’re also bringing all of their equipment to do some ghost hunting. I just hope our ghosts cooperate,” I said with a smile.

  He walked me to the door of his office. As we emerged into the reception area, we were confronted with none other than Detectives Abrams and Franks getting off the elevator. I thought they were following me until I saw the look on David’s face as they entered the outer offices. Both he and Detective Abrams stared right past me and at Tony. Detective Abrams reached behind his back, extracted a pair of handcuffs and stepped forward.

  “Mr. Morales,” he said, “You’re under arrest for the murder of Trudy Bascom.”

  I’m sure he must have finished the whole Miranda warning as he clasped on the handcuffs, but all I heard was a buzzing sound. Everyone in the office stood like statues, staring at Tony with a mixture of fascination and horror. Poor Tony’s face had disintegrated from initial confusion to fear. I felt lightheaded enough that I had to reach out to steady myself by grabbing onto the nearest desk.

  “But…what do you mean?” I finally stammered. “He couldn’t have done it.”

  Detective Abrams gave me a stern look. “The evidence proves otherwise.”

  He took Tony by the arm and escorted him out the door. David followed, but I caught up to him.

  “David! What are you doing?”

  He turned to me with a look of apology. “The text to Dana came from his IP address, and we found the murder weapon in his garage. It’s a good arrest, Julia.”

  “But he didn’t do it!” I pleaded.

  “You don’t know that,” he said, inching closer to me. “Now stay out of this and let us do our job.”

  And with that, my new-found boyfriend was gone, along with the best mayoral candidate we had.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I slow-walked out of City Hall in a virtual daze. Even the incessant drizzle of rain that threatened to flatten my hair wasn’t enough to make me pop open my umbrella; I had too much on my mind. The man I had just nominated to be our next mayor had been arrested for Trudy Bascom’s murder.

  I made it to the car, got in, and sat there in stunned silence. Tony Morales had fought for his country, been injured, earned a Purple Heart, and come home a hero. Even though the military had taught him how to kill, I couldn’t imagine he could brutally murder someone. That took a different kind of person.

  I pulled out my cell phone and called Doe to relate the news, but she’d already heard it from her niece, Kayla, who worked in the mayor’s office.

  “They must’ve had a good reason for arresting him, Julia,” Doe said.

  “David said that it was someone from Tony’s IP address that hacked my email. They believe it’s Tony. I just can’t believe that,” I said. “Tony is my friend. Why would he willingly implicate me in a murder?”

  “To save himself,” Doe retorted. “That’s what murderers do.”

  “David also said they found the murder weapon in Tony’s garage.”

  “He didn’t say what it was?” Doe asked.

  “No. But, God, Tony just told me that he grew up in the construction trade and that he used to be good with a hammer.”

  “Well, I have other news about Tony,” Doe said.

  The doomsday tone of her voice forced my heart rate to speed up. “What is it?”

  “Kayla said she overheard an argument between the mayor and Tony last week. Something having to do with Trudy.”

  I exhaled. “Trudy?”

  “She didn’t hear much. But she said it sounded like the mayor was chewing Tony out for using Trudy to spy on Dana.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” I said. “Why in the world would he want to spy on Dana?”

  “Maybe for the same reason he’d want her
dead,” Doe said. “You may have to accept this, Julia.”

  I took a deep breath to calm myself. “I’m not giving in yet. Did you find out anything more about Cora Blankenship?”

  “Blair said that Cora’s assistant is in her yoga class. She’s going to try and pump her for information tomorrow.”

  “We have to find something. I don’t think it’s Tony; there’s just no reason. Although, come to think of it, Dana has openly challenged him multiple times at City Council meetings on everything from the city budget to certain contracts.”

  “You’re rambling, Julia,” Doe said.

  I sighed. “I know. I’m upset. Okay, well, I have to stop at the store, and then I’m going to head home. When is Rudy going to Vancouver?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” she replied.

  “Then let’s all get together at the Inn tomorrow night. I’ll make a big pot of minestrone soup.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’m going to do some checking on that Eloise Radle, just in case. I have some contacts downtown. Maybe I can find something out.”

  I left city hall and headed toward the Albertson’s store downtown. At the last minute, I passed right by the store and decided to make a slight detour to SE 27th, where the Finkle Collection Agency was located next to Starbucks. Clay Finkle was just coming out to his car. I quickly pulled to the curb, honked my horn and rolled down my window.

  “Hi Clay!” I waved my hand. He turned toward me, squinting through his glasses. “It’s Julia. Do you have a minute?”

  He threw something onto the front seat of his Saab and closed the door. Clay was a finicky guy and hurried over, holding a notepad over his head. I couldn’t imagine why. His gray hair was cut so close it looked like a second skin, and he was wearing a rain coat.

  “Hello, Julia. What’s up?” he said, leaning over my window.

  His long nose protruded through the open window and his bottle-lens glasses made his brown eyes as big as saucers.

  “I was wondering how Dana is doing,” I lied, leaning away from him. I wondered if he even knew we were helping her with the investigation.

  “She’s nervous,” he said. “Who wouldn’t be? This is all a nightmare. And I have to go out of town soon, so I hope they find the son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Out of town, really? You’d leave her all alone?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” he said, his brown eyes blinking behind those bottle glasses. “I’m closing a deal at the end of the week for a new office up in Bellingham. I told her she could go with me, but she refused. She said she’d be a sitting duck up there, without any protection. I guess it will be okay. The police have added extra patrols around the house, and she’s going to have someone come stay with her.”

  “Well, you must have added security, too,” I said.

  He nodded, making his enormous eyes bob up and down. It gave me a headache.

  “Yes. We’re having the whole alarm system upgraded,” he said. “But Dana is stubborn, you know. I offered to hire a detective, but she won’t accept any help from me.”

  His face had flushed, and I wondered if he knew Dana was thinking of divorcing him. I contemplated broaching the subject, but decided against it.

  “Maybe you should get a gun,” I suggested, knowing full-well they already had one.

  “We had a gun,” he said. “Actually two of them.”

  “Had?”

  “Someone stole them. I reported it to the police this morning.” He sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, thanks for asking, Julia. I know you haven’t been the best of friends.”

  I smiled. “I suppose that’s an understatement. But I hope she stays safe.”

  I was about to say something about Tony’s arrest, but decided against that, too. The police would let them know soon enough. I waved goodbye as he ran back to the car.

  I pulled away from the curb and wound my way back to the store. I meandered up and down the aisles throwing a few things into my cart, my mind a million miles away. I ambled over to the produce section and stopped to study the lettuce. I have to admit that my eyes had glazed over somewhere between the iceberg and the romaine, until I heard Tony’s name mentioned. I snapped to attention and looked up. Two women were huddled up on the other side of the produce bin, their carts nose to nose.

  “I know why they arrested him,” a tall brunette said. “There’s some big secret about his wife.”

  “Really?” a short blond replied. “Like what? She’s so prim and proper.”

  “I don’t know,” the brunette replied, glancing around at me.

  I reached out past the lettuce and grabbed a tomato, pretending to study it for bruises. I was surprised the gossip tree on the island had operated so quickly and efficiently. But then I remembered that the town’s lead gossiper was Lizzy Forney, the receptionist at City Hall.

  “Trudy told me not too long ago that Dana had something spectacular on Tony Morales’ wife that could end his career,” the brunette said with a conspiratorial nod.

  “And now Trudy is dead,” the other woman said.

  She pressed her lips together in an ugly grimace, but the enthusiasm with which she spoke betrayed any compassion she felt for the dead woman.

  “Yes, but didn’t you know? Trudy was killed by mistake. Whoever killed Trudy meant to kill Dana.”

  The blond woman gasped, just as two children ran up screaming at each other over something. The conversation ended. The women said goodbye and took off in different directions.

  I looked down and frowned at the tomato in my hand. Someone had pressed two fingerprints into it. I put it back, and then I took a turn around the store to finish my shopping.

  On the way home, my brain was a-buzz with a myriad of thoughts. Dana Finkle apparently had something on Tony’s wife. That was just like her. She would dig up dirt and use it against people, especially in her lawsuits. If Tony had tried to kill her, maybe that was the reason why. It would have to be something pretty spectacular to actually threaten his career; after all, politicians kept their jobs these days after being accused for all sorts of crimes. Perhaps that was also why Tony was asking Trudy to spy on Dana.

  Oh dear, I thought. This was getting complicated. Tony had a reason to want Dana dead. Clay had a reason to want her dead. Eloise Radle had a reason. And so did half a dozen others who Dana had sued. Including me.

  By the time I returned to the Inn, I was exhausted and longed for a nap. Then I saw Blair’s car in the driveway. She was in the breakfast room waiting for me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her.

  “I just talked to Mr. Billings, and he told me something very interesting,” she said with a knowing smile.

  “Your husband has a first name, you know,” I said. “What do you call him at home?”

  She smiled. “Honey.”

  I sighed. “Well, follow me to the apartment so I can put this stuff away.”

  We traipsed down the hallway and into my small apartment kitchen. While I put away my few groceries, she continued.

  “You know Mr. Billings takes all his cars to Emory’s Auto Shop in Bellevue. Well, he was in there this morning and came back talking about one of the guys who looks like he’s had his face rearranged. I guess he has a bandage across his nose, and his face is scratched up pretty badly.”

  “Really? How tall is he?”

  Blair shrugged. “I have no idea. Does that make a difference? I thought you didn’t get a look at the guy who attacked you.”

  “I didn’t. But I’ve been thinking a lot about him. I kept bumping up against his chin, as if I fit right underneath it. And I remember his arms around me. They were thick and heavy. It was like being hugged by a bear.” I put a carton of milk away as I said this last part.

  “You want to go take a look?” Blair asked. Her pretty blue eyes were alight with youthful enthusiasm.

  Blair’s love for adventure was one of the things I liked best about her. On the other hand, she had a tendency to throw caution to the wind, and t
hat made me nervous.

  “Sure,” I replied with just a slight hesitation. “But what’s our excuse?”

  Blair smiled, put a hand on her hip and gave me one of her, ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ looks.

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s a business filled with men. What was I thinking?”

  She smiled appreciatively. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  I always hesitated getting in a car with Blair. She’d once been married to a racecar driver. While I imagine that she taught him how things moved in the bedroom, he taught her the finer points about how cars moved on the road. It was enough to make my stomach turn.

  “Let me check in quickly with April, and I’m all yours,” I said.

  April was in the bakery with her hands wrist deep in bread dough.

  “David called,” she said when I popped in. “I don’t know what it was about, but he wanted you to call him.”

  I frowned. “I just saw him at City Hall. He arrested Tony Morales.”

  April stopped kneading the dough. “What for?”

  I related the story about Tony’s arrest. “But I’m having a hard time believing it,” I said. “If someone could hack my emails, what’s to stop someone from doing the same thing to Tony?”

  “Nothing,” April said with a shrug. “This sounds like it’s going to get more complicated before it’s over, though.”

  I pulled my phone from my purse, clicked the button and frowned. “My phone is dead. I guess that’s why David called you. I’ll call him back later. Besides, I don’t want him asking questions right now.”

  April’s eyebrows arched. “What do you mean? Stealing Dana’s trash wasn’t enough?”

  I shifted my weight awkwardly. “Blair and I are just taking a little trip to Bellevue.”

  April pulled in her chin. “You know,” she said. “You’ve just barely healed from a car accident. And as I recall, Blair was driving then, too. Tell her to take it easy.”

  The memory of the night Blair and I were fleeing killers as they chased us in a Hummer was never far from my mind. I’d had several nightmares about it, especially the moment we’d gotten sideswiped by a bunch of kids out joy-riding. That had put us both in the hospital.