Something's Knot Kosher

by Mary Marks

  “I’m sure he did. But I have to admit, I was more than a little annoyed. I felt, at the very least, I deserved an explanation.”

  The servers came back to our table with tiny shrimp in a salad, which I politely declined. Rainbow didn’t seem to notice. She chewed a bite and then said, “He just apologized and said, ‘This is a confidential bank matter.’ I immediately called Nancy into my office and told her to find out everything she could about Five Star Packaging. I was determined to discover why Russell was being so secretive.”

  Two thick steaks arrived on very hot plates, along with a selection of creamed spinach, cauliflower topped with melted Tillamook cheddar, steamed baby asparagus spears, garlic mashed potatoes, and baked yams dripping with a clear glaze. I helped myself to the asparagus and yams. Everything else contained dairy, and I avoided mixing meat and dairy together in the same meal.

  The knife cut through my filet mignon like butter, and I raised a bite to my lips. “What did you find out about Five Star?”

  Rainbow was already chewing a piece of meat. She washed it down with merlot and said, “The company didn’t exist before December of last year. Therefore, the whole story about doing well and needing to expand had to be pure fiction. At first I thought the bank was being scammed by an expert con artist. But I quickly dismissed the idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know Russell. He would never have approved a loan without vetting a company thoroughly. No way could a brand-new company without any assets get past Russell’s scrutiny. I realized that someone inside the bank must have made that loan, knowing Five Star was bogus. Someone inside the bank was working the con and pocketing the loan money. And this was why Russell couldn’t talk about it.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been quizzed by the FBI like the rest of us. Did you tell them about this?”

  She shook her head and took a large drink of wine.

  “Why not?”

  “It was Russell’s job to report embezzlement to the FBI, not mine.”

  I forked the last bite of meat into my mouth. “I don’t think the FBI knows, Rainbow. They’ve never questioned any of us about it.”

  She closed her eyes. “I feel responsible for Russell’s murder. I may have gotten him killed by bringing the scam out into the open. Either the embezzler killed him to keep from being exposed, or worse.” She paused for effect. “Russell himself could have been the embezzler.”

  I wasn’t convinced. “Really? If he was the thief, how could that get him killed?”

  She put her fork down. “We know he didn’t report the bad loan. What if he used those two weeks to cover his tracks and make it look like someone else was responsible? What if he had an accomplice? What if the accomplice knew he was about to be thrown under the bus and killed Russell?”

  More than ever I thought Agent Lancet should be told. She had the resources to get to the truth. “You have to tell the feds what you know.”

  “Not until I know whether Russell was involved.” She crossed her arms. “If it turns out he was the thief, the bank would have every right to then turn around and sue his estate for the missing money.”

  I finished her thought. “And Birdie would end up having to make restitution.”

  She nodded. “They’d take every penny from her.”

  I could see her point. Birdie would not only lose everything, she’d be publicly embarrassed. “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Talk to Nancy King. See if you can’t figure this thing out. If it turns out Russell had nothing to do with the theft, then I’ll go to the FBI with what I know.”

  Our dinner plates were replaced by dessert plates and the side dishes cleared to make way for a selection of rich desserts. I managed to find room for the steaming chocolate soufflé after I decided to overlook the meat-and-dairy-in-the-same-meal thing.

  “Tell me your secret,” I said. “How do you keep your figure and still eat like this?”

  She sipped espresso from a white demitasse. “I normally eat only the foods I advocate: fresh, organic, and vegan. But every once in a while, I get an overwhelming urge to just pig out.”

  I could relate. After such a huge meal, I felt rather porcine myself.

  The maître d’ came back to our table with a bottle of Courvoisier and two round snifters. He poured our drinks and stood nervously. “I hope you enjoyed the meal, Miss Prescott.”

  Rainbow swirled the brandy in the snifter, took a sip, and bestowed a reassuring smile. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a meal as much. Many, many thanks to you and my compliments to your talented chef.”

  A wave of relief passed over his face. “About my proposal?”

  Rainbow stood and extended her hand toward me. “I think my friend here has slightly overindulged herself tonight and needs to return to the hotel. May I call you in the morning? We can have our discussion then.”

  He made a little bow. “Of course! I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Rainbow shook his hand and thanked him again, and the two of us left McGinty’s.

  On the walk back to the Yamhill Country Inn, I said, “You know, Russell’s murder may not be connected to the embezzled funds. You saw how his brother, Denver, was so angry today at the funeral. He maintained Russell took something that didn’t belong to him, and Denver wanted it back.”

  Rainbow stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “And what do you think he wants?”

  “Birdie found over a quarter of a million in bearer bonds in their home safe. Some were issued as far back as the 1940s. I’m guessing they belonged to Russell’s parents. Denver could have hired Rene Levesque to kill Russell and take back the bonds from Birdie’s house.”

  Rainbow laughed. “Denver has enough money of his own. I can’t picture him killing his brother over a few bonds. Martha, I think Denver has already taken back the thing that Russell stole from him.”

  I sighed. Rainbow had just confirmed what I had already begun to suspect. “The ‘thing’ Denver wanted back was Birdie.”

  She smiled, slipped her arm through mine like an old friend, and continued walking. “You should have seen them in the old days. They were devoted to each other, and so much in love. But she was a wreck when they returned from India. Denver, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed. He wanted to hitch around the country and hop freight trains with nothing but his guitar, a backpack, and Birdie on his arm. He didn’t realize how traumatized she was from that horrific railway disaster they survived.”

  That confirmed what Birdie had already told Lucy and me. She had a breakdown and opted for the stability and security that Russell offered.

  Rainbow sighed. “I was sad to see her choose the path she did. But I also understood.”

  We walked the rest of the way in silence. Denver wasn’t entirely off the hook for Russell’s murder. The killer had mentioned a “payback” right before he shot Russell. Could Denver have sent the message he was taking Birdie back? On the other hand, if Rainbow was correct, the payback could have come from an embezzler who was about to be exposed.

  When we reached the hotel, Sandra Prescott pushed open the doors. “I’ll introduce you to Nancy King tomorrow at ten.”

  I returned to my room and took Arthur outside one last time before bed. Then I called Lucy, but she didn’t answer, so I left a message that I’d tell her all about McGinty’s in the morning. I opened the diary and studied the entries again. Were all the companies on the list fake? What about the peculiar dates of June and December? Did Russell uncover 4.5 million dollars in bogus loans, or was this a record of his own thefts?

  CHAPTER 29

  Saturday morning I got up at seven, threw on my stretch denim jeans and a T-shirt, and took Arthur for a walk. I needed the exercise after last night’s pig-out at McGinty’s. My body was still stiff and sore from the accident on Thursday, but the more I moved, the better I felt. After twenty minutes, we were on Third Street. “Hey, Arthur, let’s try to find the fabric store. It won’t be open yet, b
ut we can look in the window.”

  The dog wagged his tail and trotted happily beside me down the sidewalk.

  He stopped to pee on a lamppost in front of a shop displaying beautiful handmade jewelry. The sign on the window said:

  YAMHILL COUNTY ART ASSOCIATION

  FEATURING LOCAL ARTISTS

  I stepped closer to the window and admired the clever way the maker had fashioned hammered gold around bright blue turquoise stones to make a pair of earrings. As I peered through the glass into the interior of the shop, a bronze sculpture caught my eye. The bust of a long-haired woman looked remarkably like the young Birdie we saw in the photograph from Aquarius. I gasped when I read the tag next to it: “DENVER WATSON, 1980.”

  More and more I could see how Birdie and Denver were kindred souls. Both were creative in different ways: Birdie with her quilting, gardening, and cooking, and Denver with his music and sculpting.

  A voice spoke behind me. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  I whipped my head around. The wind lifted the long white hair around the face of a woman I didn’t recognize. She wore an ankle-length Madras skirt and a white peasant blouse. Around her neck hung a strand of tiny puka shells: love beads. Her face wore a blissful smile, and her eyes sparkled.

  “Birdie!” My mouth fell open.

  Her delighted laughter told me she had meant to astonish me. “Hello, Martha dear.”

  “You look wonderful. Ten years younger. No, fifteen years.” I gave her a hug. “I don’t even have to ask you if you’re happy.”

  Her laughter tinkled again in the morning air.

  I looked up and down the street. “Where’s Denver?”

  She pointed to a Dodge pickup that had pulled to the curb across the street. “His kitchen lacks baking supplies, so we’re on our way to the market. When I saw you and Arthur, I asked him to stop so I could say hello.”

  I looked at the truck and waved. The man in the cowboy hat smiled and waved back. We hugged one last time, then she limped across the street with her arthritic knees. Denver hopped out of the truck and helped her into the cab. I waved again as Birdie and her lover drove off. I wanted to be happy for them. I didn’t want to believe he had killed his brother. Because if he had, Birdie’s heart would surely break.

  I returned to the hotel, where I spotted Jazz walking Zsa Zsa outside. He wore a long-sleeved green print shirt tucked into yellow cargo shorts. The Maltese wore a matching green dress and bow in her hair. Even her leash was green. When she saw Arthur, she yipped loudly and ran toward him, broadcasting a rapid hello with her tail.

  “You’re up bright and early.” I smiled.

  Jazz yawned. “Yesterday was très émotionnel. After Lucy and I had supper last night, I went straight to bed. Where’d you go?”

  “Down the street to McGinty’s Steak House with Rainbow.” I paused for a beat and then asked, “You know, Jazz, I couldn’t help but notice yesterday you seemed particularly unhappy about Denver Watson. Is there something you haven’t told us?”

  The tall man looked at the ground and rearranged the dirt with the toe of his white canvas espadrille. “It’s just that Rusty didn’t trust him. He told me years ago Denver had threatened to out him.”

  “I can certainly see how that would cause a lot of hard feelings between brothers,” I said.

  Jazz rolled his eyes. “Denver was pissed at Rusty for taking Birdie away and threatened to retaliate. Rusty was terrified his colleagues would discover he was gay. His career would’ve been over, and Denver knew it.”

  Russell was right. In the early days, he would’ve been a pariah if his sexual preferences were known. Especially in the corporate world. Living under the constant threat of exposure must have been excruciating.

  “But Denver never said anything, did he?”

  Jazz shook his head. “But he inflicted mental torture with his threat. I hate him for making Rusty suffer.”

  “What about the big argument when their mother died? Do you know what that was all about?”

  “Family! It was all about money. Denver cheated Rusty out of his inheritance.”

  I thought about Denver’s guitar and the beautiful bronze bust in the window of the Yamhill County Art Association. “He doesn’t seem the type to be preoccupied with money.”

  “Does anyone? As the oldest brother, Rusty was supposed to get the ranch. But Denver wanted it.”

  “Couldn’t they have split it? Each own half?”

  Jazz drew a line across his throat with his finger. “Denver said since Rusty didn’t have kids, the ranch should go to his son, Ethan.”

  I thought about the bearer bonds dating from 1943. “But Russell did get something from the estate, right?”

  Jazz nodded. “He settled for some bonds, but they weren’t worth half as much as the property.”

  “So Russell just let him have the property?”

  Anger twisted his mouth. “Rusty was afraid that if he didn’t agree, Denver would make good on his threat to expose him.”

  I pressed him further. “It was pretty clear yesterday that you disapprove of Birdie’s relationship with Denver.”

  A storm flashed in his eyes. “Don’t you? I mean, it’s been decades since they were together. What does she really know about him now? And what does he want with her, anyway?” He crossed his arms. “Birdie’s way too nice. I’d hate to see her hurt.”

  I agreed. After more than forty years of leading a quiet, sheltered life, Birdie was on her own again, and vulnerable. On the other hand, if she and Denver truly loved each other, who were we to stand in their way? Didn’t she say this was her last chance?

  “I ran into Birdie on my walk this morning. She looks happier than I’ve ever seen her. Almost transformed.”

  Jazz just grunted. We settled the dogs back in my room to keep each other company and joined Lucy in the dining room for an eight o’clock breakfast. How was it, that so soon after that huge meal last night I was actually looking forward to eating again?

  After the server left with our orders, my orange-haired friend favored us with a warm grin. Her mood had vastly improved since she learned Tanya and the kids were coming home. “I talked to Ray Junior last night. He blames himself for what happened. He said he paid too much attention to the business and not enough to his family. He wants to try to mend his marriage and get closer to his kids. They’re staying in Hawaii for the next two weeks. Junior rented a house in Kailua.”

  “That’s great news, Lucy. I’m so happy things are working out. I ran into Birdie this morning on my walk. You wouldn’t believe how happy she is. Maybe life is finally working out for her, too.”

  “Not everything is working out,” Jazz said. “We still don’t know who’s behind Rusty’s murder.”

  A busboy stopped briefly at our table and filled our coffee cups.

  Golden hoops swung in Lucy’s ears as she leaned forward. “I’ve been puzzled about something. An unknown person hired an assassin to get rid of Russell. Then that same person got rid of the assassin and stuffed him in Russell’s coffin. How could he pull that off?”

  Good question. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Let’s think this through. We know Levesque’s body was added after the viewing on Monday night and before we left LA on Tuesday morning. The killer either broke into the mortuary in the middle of the night or was let in by someone who works there. Then he, or they, opened the coffin and removed the Baltimore Album quilt to make room for the new body.”

  Jazz raised his eyebrows. “That pretty quilt is gone? Does Birdie know?”

  I shook my head. “Lucy and I didn’t want to upset her. Anyway, I believe the unknown mastermind killed Levesque because he didn’t want to leave any witnesses behind. I think he stashed the corpse without any help because he didn’t want witnesses to Levesque’s murder, either.”

  The server brought our orders. A bowl of fruit for me, an omelet for Lucy, and waffles for Jazz.

  Jazz reached for a bottle of dark purple syrup. �
��Well, he’d have to be really strong to carry a dead body into the mortuary all by himself and place it in the coffin.”

  “Who has the muscle to do that?” Lucy asked.

  I fished out a fresh marionberry from my bowl. “Who’s on our list of suspects with a motive to kill? Jazz, what about Francisco Conejo, your angry neighbor?”

  “Cisco?” Jazz briefly waved his hand. “He’s a short little Cuban drama queen. No way could he lift a body. He pitched a royal fit when he lost his house, but I never believed he would actually try to hurt anyone.”

  “What about Li’l Ape Man?” Lucy asked.

  Jazz put his fork down and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “He’s a huge Swede. He could easily throw a corpse over his shoulder, with those muscles of his. I should know.” He blushed. “I measured his body several times during his custom fittings. He could’ve killed Rusty as payback for not being allowed to have his way with me.”

  I still wasn’t ready to rule out Denver. Although he’d slipped from the top of my list. “Remember, Russell’s brother said he wanted something back that Russell had taken from him? It’s obvious what that was. He wanted Birdie. It’s possible Denver had Russell killed as payback for stealing Birdie away and to clear the way for him to move in and take her back.”

  “And it looks like he’s succeeded.” Jazz clenched his jaw.

  “Why now?” asked Lucy. “Why not ten years ago? Or twenty?”

  What was it Birdie told me yesterday about Denver’s son? “Ethan Watson was killed in Afghanistan. Denver’s in his seventies and has no family left. Maybe he wanted to spend whatever time he had left with the woman he loved.”

  “Makes sense,” said Lucy. “Denver lives on a ranch, right? I come from a long line of ranchers in Wyoming. They’re as tough as nails from hard work, like tossing around hundred-pound bales of hay all day long. Even into their seventies. Judging from the looks of Russell’s brother, he could easily lug a corpse.”