by Lynn Bohart
“No,” I said. “Whoever this is can’t see you. If they recognize you and realize that you’re here, they’re liable to run.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Now what?”
“It’s time for Blair,” I said.
I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text to Blair. I told her to go in and sit at a table in the back of the restaurant, where a middle-aged woman was the waitress. She glanced over at me and nodded. She got out of the car and entered the building.
As I looked through my binoculars, I noticed that Rudy and Doe ignored Blair’s arrival, just as we’d discussed. Blair sashayed to the back of the restaurant and took a table in the corner. I could see a person go right over and place a glass of water in front of her and hand her a menu. Blair seemed to study the menu, and then handed it back. The individual crossed back to the counter to place the order. As the person turned back, Blair pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. A moment later, Blair forwarded the picture to me.
“Here, take a look at this,” I said to Dana.
I held out my phone. Dana lowered the binoculars and refocused her eyes before glancing down at the picture on my phone. A second later, she’d grabbed it from me to study the picture more closely.
“Oh my God! I know that woman.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Sonja Kyes. She was Mr. Peabody’s housekeeper. I can’t believe it. She’s the one who’s blackmailing me? That bitch!”
“But why would she blackmail you? I thought she was gone that day.”
But Dana hadn’t heard me. She threw open the car door, got out and rushed inside before I could stop her. I followed as fast as I could, coming in behind her. Blair looked up in surprise as Dana blew past tables in the middle of the room and marched up to the cash register.
The woman she’d ID’d as Sonja Kyes looked up in surprise. She was taller than Dana by a good three or four inches, skinny as a rail, with long, stringy black hair way overdue for a dye job. She was about to hand change to someone when she recognized Dana. Her eyes opened wide, and the coins in her hand clanged across the counter and onto the floor as she backed up a step.
“How dare you,” Dana screamed, advancing on her.
Sonja turned, ready to flee, but Dana was fast when she was mad. She circled around the end of the counter and caught Sonja from behind.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Dana yelled.
Sonja whirled around and shot out with her fist, catching Dana in the jaw. Dana flew sideways into the short order counter, knocking a plate of barbeque onto the floor. She quickly reached up and grabbed a second plate off the counter and flung it like a flying saucer straight at her opponent. Sonja ducked. The plate skimmed over the front counter, barely missing a young man sitting there. He whipped around to watch the plate slam against the far wall, splattering barbeque and French fries all over the wall, the floor and several patrons sitting close by.
People began to scatter.
Meanwhile, Dana and Sonja had come together like battering rams, slapping and clawing at each other. Then, suddenly, they had their hands around each other’s throats and were yanking each other back and forth.
I thought maybe I should try to stop them.
I came up behind Dana and reached around her shoulder to grab her wrist. Blair found a way around the other end of the corner and came up behind Sonja. There was a lot of pulling and pushing, grunting and groaning, but Blair and I finally got their hands loose.
I was pulling Dana back, when her right hand slipped out of mine and slapped Sonja hard across the face. Sonja yanked her right hand away from Blair and slapped Dana. Dana howled and pulled completely away from me.
She slammed into Sonja, knocking her backwards. Blair lost her grip and suddenly, the two women were slapping each other in a mean game of patty cakes. Hands and fingers flew as they each ducked to avoid a slap. I kept trying to grab Dana’s right hand, but got smacked in the process, making my eyes water.
Just as the cook came out yelling, Sonja reached out with her foot and pulled Dana’s leg out from under her. She and I both went down, but not before Dana grabbed for Sonja, taking her down with us. Before I knew it, Blair had been knocked backwards, and all four of us were on the floor behind the counter, arms and legs flailing.
I caught glimpses of the cook behind me in his barbeque-stained apron and his little white cap. His face was twisted in anger, as he gestured at us with a grease-covered spatula, shouting something that sounded like a mixture of Spanish and French.
Doe and Rudy arrived at either end of the space behind the counter, ready to engage, but clearly holding back. As I glanced up, four customers were craning their necks over the counter, watching us with bemused smiles and cell phones out, taking pictures.
That’s when the brief wail of a siren made everyone stop.
“Julia, it’s the police!” Rudy yelled.
Breathing heavily, we quickly disentangled. The floor was sticky, so it was difficult to get my feet underneath me. I was about to push off the floor, when a burly voice called out, “What’s going on here?”
Blair and I locked eyes. What were the chances?
Slowly, the four of us stood and turned sheepishly toward the voice, as the four bystanders with cell phones stepped aside.
“Well, well, well…this is our lucky day, wouldn’t you say, Roy?”
Just our luck. It was Officers Mosley and Hager again. Officer Hager had her hands on her hips and her mouth set into a grim smile. But her eyes weren’t laughing.
“Ladies, it’s nice to see you again. I see you brought some friends to the party this time. Care to explain?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The officers split us up and then called for backup. Another squad car arrived. They filled in the new officers on the situation and then cleared one half of the restaurant. They took over a couple of tables on the other side of the room and set up shop to interview everyone.
While one officer watched us, Officer Mosley and a second officer began with the witnesses, including the owner. Officer Hager began with Sonja, while we sat wiping barbeque sauce off our hands and faces, and Rudy sat back to read the local newspaper as if nothing was wrong.
I watched Sonja for a moment, wondering what she must have been like in the days she worked for Mr. Peabody. She must have been pretty once. She had good bone structure and intelligent eyes. But the ever-dutiful housekeeper had aged badly. Her skin was puffy and mottled, as if she had been a heavy drinker. Probably in her late sixties, deep lines pulled her facial features into a haggard look, making me think she’d lived a hard, angry life. I thought Dana had probably been partly responsible for that.
Sonja immediately threw us under the bus, screaming loudly that Dana, Blair and I had all attacked her. Dana tried to break in at one point to straighten out her recounting of the incident, but was shushed by Officer Hager as she gestured for a young, skinny officer to move in closer to keep an eye on her.
Meanwhile, I felt along the upper part of my cheek-bone while I waited. It smarted just below my right eye, and I thought I might have a bruise where Dana had smacked me.
By the time Officer Hager got around to Dana, she was practically hyperventilating.
“That woman is a murderer,” Dana exclaimed loudly, pointing at Sonja as she marched over to the table.
Sonja jumped to her feet in defense. “I am not! I had nothing to do with that.”
Officer Hager turned to Sonja and pointed at the chair behind her. “Sit down and don’t move again.”
Officer Hager interviewed Dana for a good ten minutes, while Sonja sat and steamed. We could only hear snippets of Dana’s conversation, but she was overly animated while she talked, and I really did wonder what kind of tale she was weaving, even if she was being honest. At one point, she raised her voice and said, “I’m telling the truth. Just ask Julia.” And then she pointed at me.
Officer Hager turned to me. “We’ll be talking with Ms.
Applegate and Ms. Wentworth very soon,” she said. She turned back to Dana, spoke to her softly and then released her. Dana got up and walked rigidly back to her seat, all the time glowering at Sonja.
I was called over next, and since Officer Mosley had finished with the customers, he called for Blair.
“Dana is right, you know,” I said to Officer Hager when I sat down. “That woman was trying to blackmail her.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“I’ve seen the blackmail note. The Mercer Island police have it now. You can call Detective Abrams at the Mercer Island Police Department,” I said. “Dana gave him the blackmail note this morning.”
“I’ll do that. But let’s get back to the altercation…your second altercation, I might add,” she emphasized. “What happened?”
“To understand all of this, you have to hear it from the beginning.”
I explained about Trudy Bascom’s murder and the threat to Dana. Officer Hager politely listened and took notes, but finally interrupted.
“Ms. Applegate, what I’m trying to understand is why you and your friends are involved in this investigation in the first place. The Mercer Island police are perfectly capable of handling it. They do have trained detectives, you know. I doubt very much that they need your help.”
I ignored the affront. “Dana came to us on her own. She thought we might have resources the police wouldn’t.”
“Like what?” she said without trying to hide her cynicism.
I puffed up at this. “You may think we’re just a bunch of old busybodies, but I’ll have you know that the Mayor of Mercer Island actually bestowed honorary awards on us last year for helping with a murder investigation.”
“Very nice, I’m sure,” she said with a slight roll of her eyes. “But I doubt the police will appreciate your meddling. Now let’s keep going. How in the world did you settle on Ms. Kyes as your blackmailer? Mrs. Finkle said something about the smell of the blackmail note.”
“Yes. Our friend, Doe,” I said, nodding in her direction. “She recognized the smell of the barbeque sauce in here.” I flared my nostrils and glanced around. “I’m sure you can smell it. It’s quite distinctive. Almost overpowering, I’d say.”
“So you came over here, and Mrs. Finkle recognized Ms. Kyes?”
“That’s right. They have a history.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “You’d have to ask Dana. I’d only be repeating what she told us. But it sounds like Sonja really does have a reason to hate Dana enough to want some kind of revenge.”
“According to Mrs. Finkle, you and Ms. Wentworth were just trying to stop the fight. Is that right?”
“Yes. Dana did go after Sonja. I don’t think she meant to hurt her, but she was mad, and before we knew it, they were at each other’s throats. So Blair and I tried to intercede.” I reached up and fingered the goo in my hair. “Unfortunately, we weren’t very successful.”
Officer Hager sat back and closed her notebook. “All right. You can go back to your friends. I need to talk with Officer Mosley a moment.”
She got up and joined Officer Mosley, who had just finished with Blair. As Blair and I returned to our seats, Mosley and Hager huddled up to compare notes. They called the owner over at one point and then once again, Officer Mosley pulled out his cell phone. He had a brief conversation with someone, and then they both turned and came over to us.
“All right. We’ve confirmed much of what you’ve told us with the Mercer Island police. They’re on their way over and asked that you sit tight until they get here,” she said. “Especially you two,” she said, glancing at me and Dana. “The owner will be filing a complaint, and you’ll have to reimburse him for broken dishes and some lost revenue. We’ll be in touch on that. But we have a few more questions for Ms. Kyes,” she said, eyeing Sonja.
“What? She attacked me!” Sonja yelled, standing up and pointing at Dana again.
“There’s the little matter of a blackmail note,” Officer Hager said.
Sonja’s jaw dropped open a notch. “I…uh…don’t know what you…”
“Please step over here,” Officer Hager said, gesturing for Sonja to return to the interview table.
Sonja turned to Dana. “This is all your fault. You killed Mr. Peabody. Took my inheritance. And now someone is trying to kill you. You deserve it.” She almost spit out this last part and then cast a hateful glance at all of us, before slumping her way back across the room.
At least now the police would question her on the real issue. Meanwhile, we were allowed to close ranks. I got up to use the restroom, where I attempted to make myself look presentable in case it was David who was making the trip over to Renton. As I was using a damp paper towel to wipe dirt and barbeque sauce from along my jawline, Blair, Rudy and Doe all opened the door and crowded in with me.
“Where’s Dana?” I asked in surprise.
“We told her she had to stay there,” Rudy said. “Are you okay?”
I threw the towel away, ran my fingers through my hair and then turned away from the mirror to face my friends.
“Let’s face it, we’re going to get a tongue-lashing,” I replied. “This couldn’t have turned out more wrong. Detective Abrams and David were prepared to trap Sonja in the act, and now they can’t.”
“They can compare fingerprints from the note,” Rudy said hopefully.
“Yes, but each one of us also handled that note. So who knows if they’ll be able to find a viable print?” I sighed. “We may have really screwed this up.”
“Along with your romance,” Blair said, leaning against the sink. “We’re really sorry, Julia.”
I looked at my friends. Blair and I both looked like we’d been mugged by a four-year old with gooey fingers, while Doe and Rudy just looked defeated.
“Maybe we’re carrying this murder investigation stuff too far,” Doe said. “We should have just told Dana no from the beginning.”
“Yeah,” Rudy agreed. “Let’s face it. Once they’d caught Sonja in the act, Dana could have ID’d her. We jumped the gun.” We all shifted our gaze to her. “Sorry, no jokes about Dana and guns this time,” she said, her hands up in a defensive gesture.
“What do you want to do, Julia? My gut says we ought to get out of here. Technically, they can’t hold us.”
I sighed. “Yes, but it’s not as if the Mercer Island police don’t know where we live. I say we wait and take our medicine. And then, frankly, I’m going home to take a shower.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Fortunately, it was only Detective Abrams who came to Renton. I couldn’t help but wonder why David hadn’t accompanied him. Had he just given up on me? Did I embarrass him that much?
Abrams sat us down on the far side of the room, his broad shoulders hunched as he clasped his hands together on the table. “Okay,” he began slowly. It was clear he was making a vain attempt at hiding his irritation. “How did we get here?”
“It was Doe’s nose,” Blair blurted out.
He glanced up at her and then over at Doe, who lifted those graceful brows. “I suppose you didn’t notice,” she said.
“Notice what?” Detective Abrams said.
“The smell of barbeque sauce on the note,” she replied. “It comes from this restaurant.”
He shot her a look of total skepticism. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Don’t you smell it?” Blair asked.
His blue eyes roamed briefly around the room, as if the smell would be plastered on the walls. But I saw his nose twitch, so I knew he was taking a whiff.
“And?” he encouraged us to continue.
“And she was here,” Rudy replied. “Just like we figured.”
“Sonja Kyes,” Dana added. He shifted his attention to Dana, who withered under his gaze.
“And just who is Sonja Kyes?” he asked.
“She was the housekeeper at Mr. Peabody’s,” she replied.
“Keep going,” Detective
Abrams said.
Dana looked at all of us, and I felt the other shoe was about ready to drop.
“She…uh…came home that day…the day Mr. Peabody died. She came home just as he was choking on his lunch.”
Detective Abrams’ eyes narrowed. “Let me guess? And she watched you watch him die?”
She lowered her head. “Yes. She was too late to help. But then she found out he had also taken her out of the will. She was originally supposed to get it all. She’d been his employee long before I came to work there.”
Detective Abrams sat back. “So let me get this straight. She witnessed you doing nothing to save the old man, and then suffered a second blow when you knocked her out of the will? Do I have that right?”
Dana merely nodded.
“And now you think that she’s blackmailing you?”
“Yes,” Dana said.
“But none of you actually know if she had anything to do with Trudy Bascom’s death?” he asked, looking around the table at us.
“No,” we all murmured.
He shook his head and stood up. “Okay. We’re in the process of fingerprinting the note. Hopefully, that will tell us if she is, in fact, the blackmailer. According to the Renton police, you’ll owe the restaurant owner some money to replace items here. You also may face some complaints from some of the people who got caught in the crossfire. But for now, go home and let us take it from here. And I do mean let us take it from here,” he said forcefully. “Think you can do that? Because I could book you for obstruction.”
He stood up, towering over us. This magnified the demeaning look he cast about the group. I felt like I was in elementary school and had just been called to the principal’s office, where my father was now lecturing me before taking me home. But there were a lot of relieved confirmations from the group as each of us grabbed purses and made ready to leave.
As we stood up, Detective Abrams placed his hands on his hips and leveled a severe look at each one of us. “And this time it’s an order. Because next time, I’ll let them put you in jail.”
