by B R Snow
“That was probably a mistake on your part,” Naylor said.
“I doubt it. You know, John, I’ve been thinking. Since I have all your photos, there really isn’t any reason for me to pay you anything. And if I don’t walk out of here with a full briefcase and the other half million I’ve already given you, my lawyer and I will be going through your computer then speaking with everyone else you’ve got compromising photos of. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to join me in a major class action lawsuit.”
“I see,” Naylor said.
“You certainly will, John,” she said.
“No, I don’t think so, Wilma,” Naylor said. “You won’t be going through my computer. Not that there’s anything incriminating on it.”
“What are you talking about?” Wilma said.
“My camera and computer were returned to me this afternoon,” Naylor said. “Imagine my surprise.”
“That’s impossible,” she said. “You’re bluffing.”
“The kid’s good,” I whispered.
“Will you please be quiet?” Bill whispered a bit too loudly.
“What was that?” Wilma said.
“What?” Naylor said.
“I heard something,” Wilma said, her voice sharp.
“Oh, I’ve got the TV on in the bedroom,” Naylor said. “Let me go turn it off.”
“Smooth,” I whispered.
The kid was good. Moments later, Naylor poked his head in the office.
“Would you people mind keeping it down in here?” he whispered.
“Sorry,” I said. “Actually, it was Bill’s fault.”
“Hey, don’t blame me,” Bill said.
“Just knock it off,” Shirley whispered. “Both of you.”
“Thank you,” Naylor said, nodding at Shirley before heading back to the living room.
“Thanks for throwing me under the bus,” Bill whispered.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Okay, the TV’s off,” Naylor said from the living room.
“It sounded familiar,” Wilma said. “What were you watching?”
“Just some bad cop show.”
“Funny,” I whispered.
“Yeah, the kid’s got a sense of humor,” Bill whispered.
“Shhh,” Shirley said.
“I asked you if you were blackmailing other people, John.”
“No, you’re the only one being blackmailed, Wilma,” Naylor said. “Nice tattoo by the way.”
“You’re such a pig.”
“Yeah, if you believe the rumors. That had to hurt, right?”
“Absolutely,” I whispered. “Big time.”
“Will you please shut it?” Shirley whispered through clenched teeth.
“Of course, it hurt,” Wilma said. “Big time.”
“Told ya,” I whispered.
“Where did you get your hands on another five hundred thousand that fast?” Naylor said.
“Victor gave it to me,” Wilma said. “Can you believe that? He’s such a generous man.”
“But you still feel the need to cheat on him?” Naylor said.
I listened closely and thought I heard the sound of Wilma sobbing.
“I made some mistakes,” Wilma said. “And as soon as this whole thing is over, I’m going to do everything I can to repair the damage I’ve done. I simply can’t afford to lose Victor. And I want all those photos destroyed and need your word that this is the last time you’ll be asking me for money.”
“I’m positive it will be,” Naylor said.
“Really?”
“There’s no doubt about it. Just as long as you don’t try to take another shot at killing me,” Naylor said. “I want all of this to be over.”
“A million bucks,” Wilma said, exhaling loudly. “That was an expensive affair.”
“Yeah, I hope he was worth it,” Naylor said. “So, you liked the dog photos?”
“Great transition,” I whispered.
“Yeah, it was,” Shirley whispered.
“I really did,” Wilma said. “It’s just a pity you don’t focus on that sort of work more often. You’d almost come across as a human being.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Naylor said, flatly. “I did the photo shoot the day Melinda died.”
I waited out another round of sobbing.
“It was supposed to be you,” Wilma said.
“I know it was,” Naylor said. “I was very lucky. Where did you get your hands on the poison?”
“I know a guy,” Wilma said.
“I imagine you know lots of guys,” Naylor said.
“That’s a cheap shot, Naylor.”
“Yes, it was,” he said. “You took the access card to my place from Melinda’s purse when she was at dinner with you and Victor, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You’d need an access card to get in and out without having to kick the door in,” Naylor said. “You took the key, made some excuse to leave for a while, then came over here and sprinkled the powder on my pillow. It was a brilliant plan.”
“But you didn’t come home that night, did you?”
“No, I stayed at my girlfriend’s place. So, the bed was untouched. Then after the photo shoot with the dogs was over, I headed out to run a few errands while Melinda took a nap. You must have been watching my place that morning and thought everyone had left.”
Wilma started sobbing louder.
“And you still had Melinda’s access card and had to get in here to take my equipment you couldn’t find the night before,” Naylor said. “But you saw her in the bedroom, didn’t you?”
Wilma’s crying was now interspersed with what sounded like soft howls.
“So, you panicked, put the access card back in her purse and grabbed my camera and computer, then got out of here as fast as you could. You left in such a hurry, you didn’t even bother to close the door all the way.”
“Ask her the question,” I whispered.
“What question?” Shirley whispered.
“How did you get past security?” Naylor said.
“That one,” I whispered.
“I told them I was visiting my friend on the eighth floor,” Wilma said, sniffling. “They’re used to seeing me around.”
“The little tramp,” Shirley whispered.
“Yeah,” I said. “I feel bad for Victor.”
“He’s lucky he found out now,” Bill whispered.
“I can’t believe I’m responsible for killing that wonderful girl,” Wilma said.
“Okay,” Naylor said, loudly. “I think I’m done here.”
“What are you talking about?” Wilma said.
“That’s our cue,” Bill said. “Let’s go.”
“One at a time going through the screens.”
“What?” Shirley said, glancing over her shoulder.
“Nothing,” I said, following her into the living room.
When Wilma saw us, her eyes grew wide, and she stood up and glanced back and forth at us.
“What’s going on?” she said.
“We’re just putting the final touches on a murder case,” Bill said, positioning himself between Wilma and the front door.
“You set me up?” Wilma said, glaring at Naylor. “Getting a million dollars out of me wasn’t enough?”
“Actually, Wilma,” I said. “John hasn’t tried to get one dollar out of you.”
“What are you talking about?” she said, pointing at the briefcase. “What do you think is in that case?”
“I know exactly what’s in the case,” I said. “It was my idea.”
“Your idea?” Wilma said, staring at me in disbelief.
“Yeah, somebody had to do it,” I said, frowning. “Since Melinda isn’t here to ask you for it.”
Wilma stared at me for a very long time. Then she looked around the room trying to find the right words.
“Melinda was the one blackmailing me?” Wilma said.
I slowly nodded my head.
“Why would she do something like that? I was one of her favorite people in the whole world.”
“Yes, I’m sure you were,” I said. “And then you broke her heart when she saw you with Jeremiah in his loft. I imagine she felt that you betrayed her almost as much as you did Victor.”
“She took the photos?” Wilma whispered.
“She did,” Naylor said. “Right from those windows over there.”
Stunned, Wilma slowly walked to the wall of windows and peered out through the blinds.
“I can’t believe it,” Wilma said. “I remember asking Jeremiah if we should close the curtains, but he laughed and asked me who on earth was going to be able to see us way up on the fourth floor. He’s such an idiot.”
Wilma stepped back from the windows and glanced around the loft.
“Okay,” Bill said. “Let’s do this.”
“Are you ready to go, Wilma?” Shirley said, reaching for a pair of handcuffs.
“Yes, I think I am,” Wilma whispered as her eyes darted around the loft. Then she made a beeline for the door that led out to the patio.
Shirley and Bill started after her and reached for their guns, but I held up a hand.
“No, it’s okay,” I said, just as the wind blew the door shut. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“Isn’t there a fire escape out there?” Bill said.
“No, it’s just one of those chain ladders,” Naylor said. “And it’s in a box. It would take her at least five minutes to set it up.” He grinned at me. “That sounds about right, doesn’t it, Suzy?”
“Shut it.”
I flipped the switch that raised the blinds. Then I turned on the patio light, and we saw Wilma already hugging herself and hopping up and down for warmth as the snow and wind swirled around her. I glanced across the street into Jennifer’s loft and saw Josie waving her phone. I grabbed my phone from my bag and called her.
“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going over there?”
“We’re having a great time,” Josie said. “But we didn’t get a chance to watch any of the action with the blinds closed.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “It couldn’t be helped.”
“Based on what I see on the patio, I’m gonna guess you guys got what you needed.”
“We did.”
“Are you coming over? Jennifer made an amazing antipasto. We’re having Italian for dinner.”
“Just as soon as I finish up here,” I said, putting my phone away and glancing out at the patio. I looked at Bill and Shirley. “Aren’t you guys going to go get her?”
“Nah, let’s give her a few minutes,” Bill said. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“Do you need us to stick around?” I said.
“No, you guys can leave,” Shirley said. “We’ll probably need to get statements from you, but that can wait.”
“You’ll make sure Victor gets his money back?” I said.
“We will,” Bill said, nodding.
“Okay, then I think I’ll get going,” I said, then glanced at Naylor. “You ready?”
“I am,” he said, grabbing his coat.
“You did good,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. “But you wouldn’t shut up.”
“That was Bill,” I said, grinning at the detective.
“Nice try,” Bill said. “Thanks for all your help. You guys did great.” Then he frowned when he saw the look on my face. “What’s the matter?”
I pressed my hand against my forehead, then gently squeezed my throat.
“I think I’m coming down with something.”
Epilogue
Not only did I come down with something, so did Josie and Chef Claire and Max. And we spent the next three days alternating between our bedrooms and his germ-infested living room in front of a roaring fire. When we weren’t flat on our backs, we were coughing and sneezing and complaining while we pounded cold medicine and sipped hot toddies and reviewed the dog photos trying to decide which ones we’d be using in Wags’ initial marketing campaign.
On the second day, after my fever broke, I was finally able to make my way to the living room around noon. I sat down near the fire and grimaced when Chloe hopped up on my lap. She stretched out and stared up at me with an expectant look on her face.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a phlegmy chuckle. “Mama will be just fine.” I rubbed her head and blew my nose then sat back in the chair exhausted.
“This is all your fault,” Josie said for about the hundredth time.
“You don’t know that,” I said, blowing my nose again. “Chef Claire was the one who went skiing three days in a row. She might have caught something.”
“Don’t blame me,” Chef Claire said, tossing back a long swig of cold medicine straight from the bottle. “You were the one hanging out with cops who had the flu.”
“Not to mention she also climbed down that ladder naked,” Josie said. “That’s a great way to catch a cold.”
“The housekeeping uniform was just billowing in the wind,” I snapped, then sneezed. “I wasn’t naked.”
“Maybe not,” Josie said, with an evil grin. “But that’s the way I’m going to be telling the story.” She tried to laugh, then her head began to sway back and forth, and it looked like she was about to throw up. “I need to go back to bed.”
“Good idea,” Chef Claire said, draping a blanket over her shoulders and grabbing the bottle of cold medicine as she headed toward her room with a small wave.
I sat there by myself for a few minutes then decided bed was still the preferred option. I climbed in next to the sleeping Max. I turned my head and flipped onto my side and studied him until my eyes began to close. Just before I drifted off, I came to the conclusion that one’s ability to lie next to a sweat-drenched snorer and be completely content was most definitely a sign of true love.
On the third day, we were back to about eighty percent and ready to make the drive home. We packed amid the bouncing and yapping of four excited dogs, then walked down the driveway rolling our bags behind us. The sun was out, and the snow left behind by the massive early-winter storm was starting to melt. I unlocked my SUV, and Max organized the bags in the back of the vehicle. Then he closed the back hatch and gave me a long hug and a kiss.
“I’ll see you Wednesday afternoon,” he said.
“I need to warn you that we’re going to put you to work,” Chef Claire said. “We’ll be feeding a couple hundred people at the restaurant.”
“You can help wash dishes,” I said.
“I can do that,” he said, then knelt down to pet all four dogs who were anxious to get on the road. “And I’ll see you guys in a couple of days.”
“Okay, Goofballs, let’s go,” Josie said, clapping her hands once.
All four dogs hopped into the car, and Captain and Chloe climbed over the backseat next to the suitcases and spent a few minutes selecting their spots. Chef Claire got in the back, and Al and Dente sat down on either side of her.
“Crowded back there?” Max said, glancing through the back window and laughing.
“It’s cozy,” Chef Claire said, draping her arms over both Goldens.
“Drive safe,” Max said, leaning in through the driver side window. “And call me when you get home.”
“Will do,” I said, giving him a final kiss. “Thanks for everything. And I promise the next time I visit there won’t be any dead bodies.
Josie snorted and pulled out a fresh bag of bite-sized.
I waved goodbye and drove down the driveway out onto the bare street and headed for the highway that would take us home.
Home.
I was more than ready.
About a half-hour later, my phone buzzed, and I placed it in its dashboard holder and put it on speaker.
“This is Suzy,” I said, moving into the slow lane.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Victor,” I said, surprised. “I’ve been me
aning to give you a call, but we all got sick.”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said. “Bill and Shirley told me.”
“What’s up?”
“You’ll never guess what the cops just found,” Victor said.
“A nine-millimeter and some spare change in the seat cushions of their couch?”
“Yeah, good one,” he said. “They found the first five hundred thousand that Wilma paid Melinda.”
“Really? Where was it?”
“It was under the mattress,” Victor said.
“She put it under her bed?” I said, frowning as I remembered the condition of her apartment and the sketchy neighborhood it was located in.
“No, it was under our bed. Bill and Shirley were here taking a look around. My housekeeper asked them to help her flip the mattress, and there it was.”
“That makes no sense,” I said, glancing over at Josie.
“But it’s one heck of an early Christmas present,” Josie said.
“Oh, hi, Josie,” Victor said. “How are you doing?”
“Finally able to sit up and take nourishment,” she said, sniffling.
“Thanks for the warning,” he deadpanned.
“Funny,” Josie said, reaching for a bite-sized.
“Melinda felt guilty and gave the money back?” I said.
“It looks that way,” Victor said. “But none of it makes any sense.”
“What are you going to do with it?” I said.
“I’m sure most of it will end up going for bail and to Wilma’s lawyers,” he said, rattling his ice cubes.
“Have you talked to her?”
“No, she’s convinced that I was the one who set her up with the cops. Which is partly true, right?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I said, shrugging. “The two of you are officially done?”
“We are.”
“I’m sorry, Victor.”
“Don’t be,” he said, rattling his ice again.
“Victor,” I said, annoyed. “Please don’t do that.”
“Sorry.”
“Say, why don’t you drive down and spend Thanksgiving with us?”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I might just do that.”
“We’re going to have two seatings at the restaurant. The second one is going to start around four. You should come. We’ll put you to work.”
