by Lynn Bohart
That sparked a few smiles around the table.
“No one is accusing anyone of anything at this point,” Doe said carefully. “But we need to at least eliminate people.”
“I hate to say it,” Blair said quietly. “But I heard something about Mr. Mulford today while I was at the senior center. Apparently, he used to audit the collection agency Dana’s husband owns. Something happened between them and Clay fired him.”
“But Mr. Mulford probably loses business all the time,” I said defensively. “If he killed all the people who left him for another CPA firm, he’d be a serial killer.”
April reached over and placed her hand gently over mine. “Calm down, Julia. We’re on your side. And Mr. Mulford’s. And Tony’s. Let’s just get everything down so we know what we’re looking at.”
I exhaled loudly. “It’s just so hard to go through this again. We’re talking about people we know and care about.”
“Speaking about people we know,” Doe said. “What about the caterer? She does business all over the island, and she’s probably done business for Dana.”
“Yes, but I was with her the entire time she was here,” I said. “And during the Christmas party she was in the kitchen the whole time. She had staff who stocked the tables in the breakfast room.”
“Maybe it was one of her staff,” Blair said.
“But how? She had two people with her, and I never saw them together. They were always working independently of each other. It would have had to have either been a heated discussion between two people right in front of Ahab’s cage, or someone talking on their cell phone.”
“That would make sense,” Blair said. She turned to me. “Do you remember ever seeing anybody standing in the breakfast room talking on their cell phone?”
“Guests, maybe. They’re on their cell phones all the time, making plans for the day. So we’re back to Dana,” I lamented. “We need to know more about her.” I turned to Rudy. “I guess it’s your turn. What did you find out in Vancouver?”
She took a sip of wine and smiled rather wickedly. “Dana had quite the reputation in Vancouver,” she said. “My sources down there remember her well. That’s where she apparently acquired her fondness for lawsuits. And remember those photographs of the naked boys?”
“Whoa!” April demanded. “What naked boys?”
So much had happened over the last couple of days I had forgotten to tell her about that. “We found some photographs of young naked boys,” I said.
“I think I got that part,” she said. “Where? And what do they have to do with Dana Finkle?”
“Well, we kind of found them in her trash,” I said. “After she demanded that I help her, I said we’d need to know everything about her. She backed off so quickly, she nearly left skid marks on the kitchen floor.”
“She said she was in the middle of a project at home and had to finish it first and would call us the next day. We figured it had something to do with trash pickup the next day,” Rudy said.
“And we were right,” Doe said. “We picked up her trash and found the pictures.”
“Again, what pictures?” April exclaimed.
“Wait a minute,” I said.
I got up and ran to my apartment and got the folder with the pictures. I came back and handed it to April. First, she shuffled through the pictures of the boys fully dressed and then the ones we’d taped together of the naked boys. The expression on her face deteriorated quickly until she began to look ill.
“Oh, my,” she said as she exhaled. “And you found these in Dana’s trash?”
“Yep. In fact, we saw her bring the bag out of her house and drop it at the street,” I said.
“She had cut the photos up and put them in two different bags. We pieced them together.” I pointed to the picture with the reflection in the mirror. “We don’t know who this guy is in the background, though.”
“But I think I do,” Rudy spoke up, holding up her wine glass. “That’s what I was about to tell you. I’m pretty sure that’s Dana’s ex-husband, Vince Fragel.”
“She went from being a Fragel to being a Finkle?” Blair quipped.
“Yes,” Rudy replied, frowning at Blair. “He was a banker. He made a lot of money, and they owned a big home overlooking the Columbia River. After a few years, they decided to start fostering children.”
“So those are foster kids?” Doe asked with alarm.
“I think so,” Rudy replied. “And they only fostered boys – a bunch of them over a period of about five or six years. But then rumors began.”
“Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Doe said, turning away.
“Sorry,” Rudy said to her. “But it has to be said. Apparently good old Vince liked little boys more than he liked Dana.”
“Well, that’s understandable,” Blair sniped.
“Blair!” Doe said.
“Sorry. That was tacky,” she said with an apologetic gesture.
“Was anything ever proven? Did he go to jail?” Doe asked.
Rudy pushed her empty bowl forward and placed her elbows on the table. “No. He was accused, though. I guess he was just a little too friendly and rumors began. Apparently the police even questioned him. But there wasn’t enough evidence, because none of the boys would admit to the abuse.”
“But if Dana had these pictures,” April said, gesturing to the folder. “Then she had to know about it.”
“Right. The pictures would have been the proof the police needed,” Rudy said. “That’s what’s so strange about this.”
“So she protected him. You don’t think she was in on it, do you?” Doe said with distaste.
Everyone squirmed a little in their seats.
“God, I hope not,” I said. “Even though I can’t stand the woman and think she’s capable of most anything, I’d really hate to think she’s capable of that.”
“The rumors never included Dana,” Rudy reported. “But that’s not all. One boy killed himself while in their care. Right after that, Vince disappeared.”
“You mean as in – never found?” I asked.
“As in never found,” Rudy confirmed. “No one ever saw him again. Eventually, Dana had him declared legally dead and moved up here. Which at least tells us where some of her money comes from.”
“Because she gained legal control of his assets,” April said.
“Right,” Rudy confirmed.
I had picked up the photo of the boy on all fours, with the man in the background reflected in the mirror. His face was obscured by the camera he was holding, but the frames of his glasses poked out one side.
“Uh, oh,” I said, staring at the picture. I looked up at my fellow sleuths. “I don’t think he’s dead, legally or otherwise.”
“What do you mean?” Rudy said.
I put the photo on the table. “I think he might be very much alive and ready to make trouble right here in River City,” I said, quoting a line from the Music Man.
“What do you mean, Julia?” April asked.
“Look at his hands,” I said.
I explained what Crystal had told me about the man who had stopped by the Inn the day before, asking about Dana. Then I pointed to the picture.
“Wow,” Blair said. “His hands are huge.”
“And he has the tattoo of an eagle,” I added.
“Wow is right,” Doe agreed. “We need to tell Dana.”
“And the police,” April said. She glanced at me. “Dear God, here we go again.”
“But wait,” Rudy said. “Do we really think the husband has resurfaced and is the one who tried to kill Dana? Why would he do that?”
“Maybe for the money,” April speculated.
“Or revenge,” Blair said. “If she had these pictures, she must’ve known about the abuse, but she got off scot-free and with all his money, while he’s been running from the law all of this time.”
“I think it’s time you brought in the police,” April said to me. “They’ll need to know abou
t all of this.”
I looked at her as if she had just asked me to swallow a spider. “But then we’ll have to tell them how we found the pictures.”
She lowered her chin and looked at me over her glasses. “What did you expect when you decided to steal Dana’s trash, Julia?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I excused myself and called David to report what we knew. The moment I admitted to how we had obtained the pictures, I heard a deep sigh on the other end of the phone, but no verbal reprimand – at least not yet. He said he would send out a patrol officer to pick up the photos. And then, he added, “It’s time to stop now, Julia. You need to leave this to us.”
“But if we hadn’t stolen Dana’s trash, you never would have found out about these boys,” I argued.
“You don’t know that. In fact, Detective Abrams is down in Vancouver right now researching Dana’s background. I’m sure he’ll find out about the accusations.”
“But now we have proof!”
“Which you’ve completely compromised.”
I swallowed. “I…well…”
“Leave it to us, Julia. Please. Now, I have to go.”
We hung up, and I returned to the kitchen feeling defeated all over again. Just as I was coming through the swinging door, my phone rang and I answered it.
“Julia, it’s Dana.”
Heaven knows I didn’t need her to identify who she was. I would recognize that croak anywhere.
“Yes,” I said with irritation.
“You can come over. I’m ready to talk.”
I glanced up at the girls with a less-than-enthusiastic expression. “Actually, Dana, we’ve been told to back off the case.”
“But you promised. I dropped out of the campaign!”
I returned to my seat at the table, while four pairs of questioning eyes watched me. “Why do we have to come there? Why don’t you come over here?”
“You have people coming and going there all the time. I’d feel more comfortable here.”
“You realize I won’t be coming alone.”
“I understand,” she said.
I sighed loudly. “Okay, we’re just finishing dinner. We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.” I hung up and rolled my eyes.
“What’s up?” Rudy asked.
“She wants us to go over to her house. She says she’s ready to talk.”
“What about the police?” Rudy asked. “Did I hear you say they want us to cease and desist?”
“Yes. David was quite clear on that.”
“Then why are we going over to Dana’s?” Doe asked.
I hesitated before replying. “Because Dana insisted, I suppose.”
Doe and Rudy shared a cautious look. “Are you sure you want to do this, Julia?”
“We did make a promise. Let’s hear what she has to say. Then we can decide.”
Doe began gathering up the photos and sliding them into the folder. “How are you going to approach these?”
She handed me the folder. I handed it to April. “David is sending over a patrol officer for these. Can you handle that?” She nodded reluctantly and took the envelope. I turned to the others. “I say we play it coy in the beginning. Let’s not let on that we raided her trash.”
I gave Blair a warning look. She raised her perfectly penciled eyebrows in response.
“I agree,” Rudy said. “But if she brings up anything related to her husband and the boys they fostered, technically it’s fair game.”
“What do you mean?” Blair said. “I thought Julia just said we couldn’t talk about anything we learned from her trash.”
Rudy gave her a sly smile. “But I learned most of the same information from my trip to Vancouver.”
“Good point,” Doe said.
April pushed back her chair and took her soup bowl and utensils to the sink. “Well, I’m happy to bow out of this one. I have lemon bars to make for tomorrow, and the thought of another conversation with Dana might just curdle more than my stomach. I’ll bring the ingredients over here, so I’ll be here when the police arrive,” she said.
April left, and we did the dishes and put food away. Twenty-five minutes later, we were pulling into Dana’s driveway in Doe’s big Mercedes.
Dana and Clay had bought a home owned at one time by a Microsoft executive. It was a rather ugly, split-level mishmash of glass, steel, and plaster, garishly painted a bright, taxicab yellow. It fit Dana’s personality perfectly.
She answered the door dressed in electric blue slacks, a blue and black sweater with a bold geometric design splashed across the front, with a contrasting blazing orange scarf tied around her thick neck. My eyes momentarily blurred.
We followed her into the living room. Doe and I sat on the sleek leather sofa, while Blair perched primly on the piano bench. Rudy took a straight-backed chair near the fireplace, while Dana plopped into a leather wingback chair next to the window.
“I should have assumed you’d all be together when I called,” she said with a stiff lip.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” I said. “We were talking about you.”
Her eyes flared. “I should have known. You all…”
I held up a hand. “Hold on, Dana. You’re the one who asked for our help. So why wouldn’t we get together to talk about your case?”
She seemed to relax. “I guess you’re right.”
“Okay, enough chitchat. Let’s hear it,” Blair blurted.
Dana shot her a glaring look and then inhaled and held her breath. Blair drew her Botoxed lips into a sweet smile. “You can’t hold your breath forever,” she said.
Dana released her breath and allowed her shoulders to relax. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Doe said.
“I’ve already been interviewed by the police, you know,” she said.
Her stubbornness forced me to let out a frustrated sigh. “Dana, you said you wanted our help. So, do you or don’t you?”
She paused and glanced at each of us. Her hands were clasped into a tight ball in her lap, and moisture glistened on her upper lip.
“Yes, I do,” she finally said. “I know the police are doing everything they can, but…you guys have ways of finding out information in town that they don’t. I think I’ll need that.”
I glanced up at the girls thinking, if she only knew.
“Okay, let’s start with what you told the police?” I asked.
“I told them about all my lawsuits.”
“Jeeze, how many are there?” Blair exclaimed.
Dana hesitated before responding. “Six.”
“You have six open lawsuits?” Rudy asked, leaning forward.
Dana shrugged. “Yes. There’s the suit I filed against Julia, of course.”
She had filed a lawsuit against me a few months earlier because I had tripped in front of Starbucks and spilled hot chai tea all across her broad back. She accused me of doing it on purpose.
“Who else?” I said with a clenched jaw.
She shifted her eyes in my direction. “I have a suit filed against Swedish Hospital because they botched a small procedure they performed on Clay.”
“What was the procedure?” Blair asked.
“None of your business,” Dana said with a snap of her head in Blair’s direction.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “What else?”
She sighed as if this was a big waste of time. “I also have a suit against Kentucky Fried Chicken in Kirkland. I found a fingernail in my mashed potatoes last May.”
“Ewwww,” Blair whined.
Rudy shot Blair a glance of reprimand. “Go on,” she said to Dana.
“A year ago I bought a blouse from Nordstrom’s in Bellevue Square,” Dana said. “And the first time I put it on I got a deep scratch from a pin that was left in one of the seams.”
“Well, that wasn’t their fault,” Doe said. “They didn’t make the blouse.”
“But they sold it to me,” Dana retorted with a raised chin.
/> “And they have deep pockets,” Rudy added. “Keep going. That’s four. What are the other two?”
“The last ones are a suit against a remodeling company for a mistake they made on my kitchen counter, and one against Emory Auto Shop for putting a hole in my radiator.”
There were several gasps around the table, which had Dana looking back and forth at us with curiosity. “What?” she asked.
I hesitated before responding, because I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her. “Dana, do you know a man named Al Dente?”
She crinkled up her forehead. “Is that a cooking joke?”
“No,” I replied. “He works at Emory Auto Shop.”
She shrugged. “No. I’ve never heard of him. Why?”
“Two days ago, he broke into the Inn and stole Ahab.” Her eyes widened, but she kept silent, so I continued. “Yesterday, Blair found out he worked at Emory’s. We went to check him out and then followed him to his apartment…where we found Ahab.”
Dana let out an exasperated sigh. “What does that stupid bird have to do with me?”
I glanced at Rudy, who nodded at me to continue. “We believe Ahab was stolen because of what he said the night of the Christmas Eve party. Don’t you remember? You and I were standing in front of his cage, and he squawked, ‘I want to kill Dana Finkle?’”
“Yes, of course I remember that insult. You taught it to him,” she said with an angry edge to her voice.
“No. I didn’t. That’s the point. He heard it from someone else.” I stopped talking and watched as the gravity of that statement took hold.
“Oh my God! You mean someone at the party?”
“Actually, we think it was someone earlier in the week. Someone who was standing close to the cage, perhaps talking on the phone to someone else,” Doe responded.
“But how will you ever figure out who it was?” she asked.
“That’s one of the things we were discussing when you called,” I said.
She shifted in her seat. “So, have they arrested this…Al Dente?”
My shoulders slumped. “Um…no. He got away.”
“Great,” she said with a sharp look. “But do you think he’s the guy who tried to kill me?”
“You mean the guy who mistakenly killed Trudy,” Rudy admonished her.
