by Sandra Balzo
Ugh. ‘You have to stop saying whatever comes into your head,’ I scolded. ‘People are going to think you mean it.’
‘So if I just think them, it’s OK?’
‘It’s … better.’ Or it would be, until my partner – without her mouth as a safety valve – exploded into a million pieces like the carafe this morning. ‘Or maybe just say them to me.’
‘Which I just did.’ She waved her hand. ‘Let’s move on.’
Scary thing was that Sarah often said the things I only thought. So maybe she was my safety valve, as well. ‘The possibility that Ginny was being sexually abused by William had occurred to me.’
‘So I overheard.’
‘What did you make of it?’
‘You mean his preening shirtless in front of teenage girls? Giving his stepdaughter a Lexus and sending her to an expensive school so he’d look good? The multiple affairs. I’d say he’s a casebook narcissist and now that he’s getting older, he – like Avis – is trying harder.’
She waited until I digested all that and then added, ‘So to speak.’
Double ugh. Blessedly a timer on a pot of coffee went off, signaling it had been sitting for twenty minutes and was past prime drinkability. I dumped the old coffee into the sink and, setting the carafe aside next to two other empties, pushed ‘brew’ for the pot I’d just set up.
‘I forgot to tell you,’ I said when I’d finished. ‘I got some interesting information from Ted at the christening. William’s former practice is under investigation for billing irregularities.’
Sarah had started to rinse out the pot I’d just emptied but stopped and half-turned. ‘That’s a fun new wrinkle. How could you “forget” that?’
‘I really haven’t had a lot of time to digest it, to be honest. Ted told me this at the christening and, when I got home, Lynne and Ginny were leaving for the sheriff’s department so I tagged along. Then Lynne was detained for questioning. Pavlik broke up with me. This morning—’
Sarah held up a soapy hand. ‘I’ll stipulate that you’ve been distracted. But something like this? Truly?’
She was right. I was off my game. ‘I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’
‘And you wonder why I eavesdrop. Is that why Ted was so hot? Swope didn’t tell him?’
I nodded. ‘But Clay Tartare did. That’s the reason Tartare followed him here.’
Sarah cocked her head. ‘Tartare wasn’t involved?’
‘He claims he had no idea what was going on. That William fired their office manager and then took off himself.’
‘Now there’s a motive for murder.’ A wrinkle formed between Sarah’s brows. ‘Is the office manager we’re talking about this Bethany slut? I thought she was fired for this nitrous stuff. Did I waste all that time hazing Lynne for nothing?’
‘Only if you call your own amusement “nothing.” But you bring up a good question. William told Lynne that Bethany had been fired for misusing the nitrous. If he’d fired her for cooking the books why wouldn’t he tell his wife?’
‘Or his partner.’ My own partner was fully engaged, pots forgotten. ‘So the delightful Doctor Swope was screwing the partner – in a business sense – in addition to Bethany in a more deeply personal one.’
‘That’s what I’m thinking.’ Though not in quite so colorful terms. ‘And when he got wind that somebody was on to them he let Bethany go and took off himself.’
‘And now Bethany is dead. My murder/suicide theory isn’t looking that far-fetched anymore, is it?’
‘It’s still a long stretch of time between the murder and the suicide. And we have no reason to believe Bethany Wheeler’s drowning wasn’t an accident.’
‘We have no reason to suspect it was. An accident, I mean.’ Sarah had turned to the sink and added over her shoulder, ‘Now there’s something you should look into.’
‘In Kentucky? There’s enough we don’t know right here in Wisconsin. For example, why did Ginny decide to stop by the office when by all accounts the lights were clearly off?’
‘Is that why you asked if she’d been in the desk? You really think she was robbing the place? Of what?’ Sarah put the carafe she’d been washing into the dish drainer and picked up another.
‘Prescription pads, maybe? I’d love to know what crime scene found—’ I stopped.
‘What?’
‘I was just thinking about when I asked Pavlik if Lynne’s fingerprints were found in William’s office.’
Sarah pulled a dry dish towel out of the drawer. ‘What did he say?’
‘That Lynne was William’s wife so of course she’d been in his office. And then he broke up with me.’
‘One too many stupid question?’
‘Maybe so.’ I chewed on that for a minute. ‘I didn’t know he’d set a limit.’
Sarah snapped me with the towel. ‘Lighten up. Your stupid questions often bag you information you haven’t even asked for. It’s your method.’
‘Thank you. But the reason I brought up Lynne being William’s wife is that the divorce and the billing fraud may be two separate motives for getting rid of William but they dovetail nicely.’
‘But motives for who? Lynne was the one divorcing the dead guy and Clay Tartare is the one he duped. Ohhhh …’
‘Exactly,’ I said, nodding. ‘Lynne and Clay are supposedly former lovers, but we just have Lynne’s word—’
‘That it’s so “former.”’ Sarah was warming to the theory. ‘So William gets old and trophy wife decides she’s made a mistake. She and the boyfriend kill hubby, netting them both the cost basis and each other.’
‘Maybe they even set William up for the billing fraud,’ I suggested. ‘Think about it: if Clay is vindicated he gets to keep his practice and any ill-gotten gains he may have pocketed.’
‘With no one alive to testify otherwise,’ Sarah said. ‘I like it. Feels like one of those movies where the jury is hung because there’s equal evidence against both suspects.’
‘Except there’s no evidence against either in this case.’
‘There has to be something,’ my partner persisted, leaning against the sink. ‘What did crime scene come up with?’
‘I don’t know. But since Pavlik’s not an option Ted is our next best bet. It’s his office, after all.’
‘I’ll let you beard that lion since you were married to it,’ Sarah said. ‘And what about Rita Pahlke? How does she figure in all this?’
It was a good question. ‘She may suffer from some kind of mental illness. Ted said she was babbling about everything from “alien abduction to billing fraud and drugs.”’
Sarah straightened up. ‘Meaning maybe the whack job isn’t so wacky. She knew what was going on.’
I chewed on my lip. ‘When neither Tartare or Lynne Swope supposedly did. But how could she?’
The bells out front jangled and Sarah looked past me out the service window.
‘Well, well, well,’ she said, lifting one eyebrow. ‘Here’s your chance to ask Alien Invasion yourself.’
TWENTY-SIX
‘Don’t get too close,’ Sarah said in my ear as she followed me to the service window. ‘Remember that Twilight Zone episode?’
Benevolent aliens arrive on earth, supposedly wanting to serve man. Turns out it’s for dinner. Yum.
I smiled and then tamped it down for our customer. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Oh,’ Rita Pahlke said, seeming startled by the sight of me. ‘You’re just, just … everywhere, aren’t you?’
‘Here more than anywhere,’ I said, wondering if the woman had lost it. Or more of it. ‘This is my coffeehouse, remember?’
Sarah came up behind me. ‘And the dental office where I hear you peed on the dead man belongs to Maggy’s ex-husband. That makes you practically family. Welcome.’
Pahlke frowned. ‘I didn’t exactly pee on him. It kind of ran downhill.’
‘Leading to the life lesson: don’t spit into the wind or pee upstream of a corpse,’ Sarah said
cheerily. ‘So what can I get you?’
‘A good cup of coffee, I hope. The hotel’s is awful.’ She set her bag on the counter and unfastened her coat.
I resisted the urge to inform her that the bottom of the average woman’s purse has more bacteria than a toilet seat. ‘So you’ll be staying with us in Brookhills for a while longer?’
Even to my own ears I sounded phony and a little arch. A lot arch.
‘Just until tomorrow,’ Pahlke said. ‘The sheriff said I could go then if I provided my contact information.’
Sarah took the pot I’d just brewed off the warmer. ‘Good-looking, isn’t he?’
My partner subscribed to the ‘rub a bruise and it’ll stop hurting faster’ school of tortured thought. Never mind that it was my bruise she was rubbing.
Rita Pahlke’s face was puzzled. ‘Each to their own, I suppose. But I prefer hair on men. I’m sure he’s very nice, though.’
Pavlik had hair. Dark, thick, tousled – hair that just begged for you to run your fingers through it. ‘I think you’re talking about Detective Taylor not Sheriff Pavlik. And he’s not.’
‘Not what?’ She was digging through her bag for money.
Nice, I’d meant, but I didn’t pursue it. ‘The sheriff did tell me that you’ve been very helpful.’
‘I just answered his questions – or the detective’s, I guess – as best I could.’
‘Had you been at the building very long before we saw you Friday morning?’
‘Less than two hours. I waited around until the restaurant opened at seven, which was irritating. Sunrise was six-forty.’
‘So?’ Sarah asked, sliding the to-go cup across the counter to our customer.
‘So it doesn’t do any good to picket, does it? If no one can see you?’
Made sense. In a crazy kind of way. ‘You had breakfast at seven—’
‘Oh, no – I just picked up a large coffee to bring along. By the time I saw you I’d drunk the whole awful cup. I swear they’d reheated the coffee left over from the night before in the microwave.’ She went to the condiment cart to tip cream into her cup.
‘Why aren’t you out there today?’ I asked.
Pahlke was perusing books on the shelves next to the condiment cart. ‘With Doctor Swope dead there’s really nothing to be gained.’
‘Gained how?’ Maybe William hadn’t merely laughed, as Lynne had put it, at Pahlke’s extortion demands.
‘Yeah, exactly what is your deal?’ Sarah had elbowed me aside and was leaning on the counter with a ‘you can trust me’ expression. Either she wanted Pahlke to confide in her or buy a used car.
‘My deal?’ Rita repeated, slipping a book back onto the shelf. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m asking,’ Sarah pressed, ‘what did you have on Swope?’
‘Shouldn’t you ask what they have on us?’ Pahlke’s eyes were wide.
I glanced uneasily at my partner and then back. ‘By “they” you mean …’
‘The man, of course.’ Pahlke still hadn’t blinked.
‘Better than little green men,’ Sarah said out of the corner of her mouth before raising her voice to address our visitor. ‘You think Swope was in cahoots with the government somehow?’
‘Can you possibly be that naïve?’ Pahlke asked incredulously. ‘Just search “government conspiracy” and “dentist.” You’ll find it all.’
And anything else you might want. ‘But why William Swope in particular?’
The woman’s eyes shifted. ‘I hang around. I hear things. See things.’
‘Like what?’ Sarah asked.
Pahlke didn’t answer.
‘For what it’s worth,’ I said, ‘William Swope is being investigated.’
‘Drugs.’ She said it like it was yesterday’s news.
Assuming Pahlke been the source of the anonymous tip, apparently nobody had told her that it hadn’t panned out. At least not in the way she’d expected. ‘You saw the … deal?’
‘Uh huh.’ She dug a fifty-dollar bill out of her purse. ‘Guy in a suit stopped him on his way into the building. Handed him an envelope.’
I frowned as I put her change on the counter. ‘Did Doctor Swope give him anything in return?’
‘I couldn’t tell from where I was, but he turned and went right into the building without opening the envelope. I’ve seen enough deals going down to see the signs, believe me.’
Oddly enough, I did.
TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Rita Pahlke may be a lunatic,’ I said to Sarah as the door closed behind the woman. ‘But she’s an observant one.’
‘Who looks like a street person but pays for coffee with a fifty-dollar bill,’ Sarah said. ‘How does that work?’
‘And, according to Pavlik, she’s staying at the Morrison. That’s not cheap.’
‘You’ve got a connection there. Maybe you can charm Stephen Slattery into letting you search her room.’
Rachel’s brother, Stephen, was managing the Morrison’s transition to a Slattery Hotel.
‘Now that Pavlik’s a non-starter,’ Sarah continued, ‘you might want to re-establish relations with him.’
‘There never were any relations. A dinner, that’s all.’ Though it was true Stephen Slattery was a good-looking guy with meltingly chocolate-brown eyes. And seemingly a decent human being, despite his uppity parents and jailbird sister. Which meant, ‘He’s not going to let me into a guest’s room.’
Not that my partner was listening. ‘Check and see if Clay Tartare is at the Morrison, too. Maybe you can get a two-fer.’
I ignored that. ‘Lynne said William didn’t take Rita’s demand for money to keep quiet seriously.’
‘Think she’s lying?’
‘God knows,’ I said. ‘Or maybe William lied to Lynne. Either way, Rita seems to have money to flash around.’
‘Though if it is hush money from Swope she has to be bummed. Not only was the goose laying the golden egg about to be busted but so was his neck.’ She let her head flop unnaturally to one side.
My partner did have a knack for painting the picture.
The door jangled, saving me.
Amy was a full fifteen minutes early for her three p.m. shift, bless the goody-goody.
‘I’ll handle things out front,’ Sarah said with a significant look toward Amy’s back as she disappeared down the hall. ‘You grill the barista about wifey’s whereabouts.’
So many suspects, so little time. I shifted gears and obeyed, stopping to snag a bottle of water from the refrigerator on the way to the office.
‘Do you have a second?’ I asked as she hung her jacket on a hook.
‘Of course. What’s up?’
‘I’m just wondering about Friday night.’
‘The night of the book club meeting.’ Amy tilted her head, sending the multiple hoops on her ear tinkling. ‘Helping the sheriff?’
‘I wish.’ I sat down at the desk and gestured that she should take the side chair. ‘Pavlik and I are taking a break.’
Amy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Maggy, I’m so sorry.’
‘So you just assume that he dumped me?’ I asked. ‘Maybe I decided to end it. Maybe he was getting too serious.’
‘But why would you do that? You’re crazy about him.’
And totally transparent, apparently. ‘Yeah, OK – he dumped me. Says I’m making him look bad in front of his deputies.’
Amy sat back. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘No, I meant that it’s terrible that he cares more about what they think than he does about you.’
‘It’s important that he maintains their respect.’ Why did I continue to argue Pavlik’s case? Against myself?
But Amy was too busy empathizing to argue back. ‘I’m just so, so sorry. The sheriff is a smart man, though, and he’ll realize what he’s lost soon enough.’
Who goes looking for a pain in the butt they’ve misplaced? ‘Thank you.’
‘You
were asking about the book club?’ Amy reminded me.
‘Yes, thanks. I was wondering what time Lynne Swope left that night.’
The barista rested one elbow on the desk. ‘Lynne killed her husband?’
I’d been trying to twist the stubborn cap off the water and stopped. ‘Why do you say “killed”?’
‘I thought you knew. The medical examiner ruled out suicide. I just got a news alert on my phone.’
See, Maggy? With a news app who needs Pavlik? ‘Did the report say anything more? Like what the findings were based on?’
‘Something about a head wound. Blunt force, I think.’ As she spoke, Amy took the water from me and twisted off the cap before handing it back.
I took it, thinking. The head wound would be the blow I’d seen to William’s forehead. Both Pavlik and Sarah suggested it could have been caused by him hitting the ground. The ME apparently thought otherwise. ‘Lynne’s daughter Ginny asked me to try to help. Given Pavlik has cut me loose, though, I’m not sure how much I can do.’
‘But you’re great at this stuff, Maggy. You don’t need Pavlik.’
Maybe not, but I sure wanted him. ‘Do you remember what time Lynne left the meeting? From what I’ve been able to piece together, William was dead by nine forty-five.’
As I said it, I realized the sheriff didn’t have that information. And wouldn’t, unless Ginny decided to speak up. So I was one up on the sheriff’s department on that, at least.
‘About nine-fifteen, maybe? Lynne was one of the first to leave, and I cleaned up and was out of there myself by nine-thirty.’
‘Do you remember if her car had gone? It’s a white Toyota.’
Amy wrinkled her brow. ‘I can’t say for sure. I didn’t notice it in the lot but she probably walked over, don’t you think?’
I hadn’t thought about it at all but it made sense that Lynne had left the Toyota wherever she parked it for work. Meaning that after the meeting she could have gone up to her office or just sat in the car for a while, waiting for a reply from her text to Ginny.
The financial planner hadn’t mentioned doing either, but that was par for the course with the Swope women, with whom I seemed to be on a ‘need to know’ basis.
