by Wendy Tyson
She thought too, about Harriet at the school. She couldn’t very well ask Harriet Mantra about it directly, but maybe Martine would know something. As head of PR, Martine would be involved with efforts to help the school, and she likely had Harriet’s itinerary. Megan sent Martine a text, asking if she could meet with her.
The truck’s windows were down, and Megan heard voices. She looked up in time to see Denver leaving Eloise’s house. She put her phone away while he got in the truck.
“How did things go?” Megan asked.
“Not well.”
“What do you mean?”
“The kid did what he did after Chase was killed. He retreated inward. Just stopped talking.”
“Did he look upset? Say anything?”
“Aunt Eloise told him. He stared at her, his eyes wide as dinner plates. When she finished, he just sat there. She asked him some questions and he didn’t—wouldn’t—respond. Not even to King.”
Megan put her head down on the steering wheel. When she sat up, she said, “This is too much for him, Denver. Think about it. He effectively lost both parents less than a year ago. Now he’s witnessed an atrocious act, and he’s just learned that a favorite adult has been victimized. Any kid would be traumatized. What are they going to do?”
“Eloise called Dr. Star. He’s going to see him.”
Dr. Star. The school. Lithium.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“I doubt Dr. Star is in on this, whatever ‘this’ is. Plus, it’s that or he goes back to the hospital. Aunt Eloise is afraid that will make things worse. The police will be searching the premises. We’ll know more after that.” He buckled his seatbelt and nodded toward the steering column. “I want to talk to Martine.”
“One step ahead of you. I already texted her. She said she’s busy and she’ll get back to me.”
“Just go to the inn.”
“She’s not there.” Megan told Denver how Martine moved to a room in Winsome.
“Winsome?” Denver frowned. “What hotel is in Winsome?”
“Until Washington Acres bed and breakfast is up and running, the boarding house is the only palatable option in town.”
“Let’s go there, then.”
“Martine will agree to talk with us—she likes me, and she wants you to like her. In the meantime, let’s head to the café to see if Alvaro or Clover remembers who was in on Friday. That way, we know which of the BOLD people to talk to.”
“That’s fine, Megs,” Denver said, “but I want to talk with Martine. She claims she was dating Chase. He never said anything, and she never mentioned it before. I’m waiting to hear back from Chase’s ex-wife. If anyone would know, Diana would.” He shrugged. “I can’t help but wonder what Martine is up to. She has a history of lying, but she seems to make some new revelation at every pass.”
“We’ll talk with her, Denver.” Megan started the truck. “I have some questions of my own.”
Denver’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. “Unknown caller. It’s Diana. Why don’t you pull over? You can listen in.”
They were still a few miles from Canal Street. Megan pulled into the parking lot of the local dry cleaners. She kept the motor running and the air conditioner on so they wouldn’t have to roll down the windows.
“Diana? Good to hear from you. I’m so sorry about Chase.”
“It was a blow, Denver. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” The voice on the other end was high-pitched and smooth, with an unexpected British accent. “Do they have a clue yet as to who killed him? Was it that poor boy?”
“I don’t think the police know, but that’s part of why I’m calling.”
“I’ve already talked to the police, Denver. I told them what I know, which is very little.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to bother ye, Diana. It’s just that there is a lot going on here and now my girlfriend’s grandmother was harmed. I was hoping maybe Chase told ye something that would prove useful.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Was Chase seeing anyone?”
Diana laughed. “Do you mean was he shagging someone, because you and I both know he was not the commitment sort.”
“Fine,” Denver looked at Megan and shrugged. “Was he sleeping with anyone?”
“No one he told me about. I know he was interested in seeing someone while he was in Pennsylvania. I told the police that.”
Denver looked uncomfortable when he said, “Was her name Martine?”
“His coworker?” Diana paused. “He didn’t mention her. Why?”
“She claims they were seeing one another.”
“They knew each other back in the day when Chase had stars in his eyes and empty pockets. I guess it’s possible something kindled between them, but I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“He never really liked her in that way. Even back then he said she was a bit mental, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Denver moved the phone to his other hand. “Too well.”
There was a pause. “You know, Chase was a leader in his own way. He attracted followers. I know he could be insensitive and obnoxious, but he had a good side. Martine was one of those people who was attracted to his spark. I really don’t think he reciprocated.”
“Do ye remember who he was going to see while he was here, Diana?”
“I only remember a first name, and only because he mentioned it in passing before he left. I don’t think he meant to, and he caught himself right off. Said he could kill two birds with one stone and visit Moira while he was there.”
“Moira?” Denver’s eyes asked Megan if the name seemed familiar. She shook her head no. “I don’t know a Moira.”
“Nor do I, which is why I figure it’s a new fling. Maybe someone he met online?” Diana laughed. “The beauty of being exes and friends was that I didn’t have to be bothered by his extracurriculars anymore.”
“Extracurricular” seemed such a sterilized word for something as hurtful as cheating. Denver seemed to think the same thing because he said, “Chase hurt you, Diana.”
Diana sighed into the phone. “I know, Daniel. I wanted him to be faithful to the vision of who we were. Diana and Charles, artist and scientist, together forever. He wasn’t wired that way. Wanted the next young, attractive adventure.” Diana’s voice became softer. “And how are you, Denver? Chase told me you have a new love in your life.”
Denver glanced at Megan. “Aye, I do. She’s pretty remarkable.”
“A lawyer-turned-farmer. Well, with everything you went through with that bloody wench Lilian, I hope you find happiness. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Diana. If ye think of anything else, call me. Like Moira’s last name. That would be a help.”
“Right after I call the police, I’ll ring you. But he never mentioned a last name, so unless I trip over it somehow, I’m afraid that won’t happen.”
Denver hung up, and Megan started the truck. “What did you make of that?” she asked him.
“We have a name, at least. Moira.”
Megan said, “And it seems unlikely Martine was sleeping with Chase.”
Denver didn’t respond right away. When he did, she heard the bitterness back in his voice. “Why say it if it wasn’t true? Because you want to mislead the police?”
Megan had another idea. “Maybe she was in love with Chase. Maybe she’d been in love with him for a while.”
“So she just made things up?”
Megan turned onto Fledgling Avenue. She remembered what Martine had said about a girl living on dreams. “She built a fantasy world, like she did back when she called herself your girlfriend to Lilian. She wished it to be true.” Megan glanced at Denver. “We all create fantasies in our head, Denver. Most of us know what’s real and what’s not. Perhaps Mart
ine prefers her fantasies to the pain of real life.”
Twenty-Seven
It was between the lunch and dinner, so the crowd at the café was thin. Clover was handling a few orders at the register in the store portion of the business, and Alvaro and Emily were in the kitchen. Clay and Emily had postponed their trip over worries about Bibi, and Megan was thankful for the extra help. Sunday afternoons were often Bibi’s favorite time to cook. She liked to see the townspeople after church services, and though she’d never admit it, she enjoyed hearing the local gossip. Her absence was felt, and Alvaro immediately gave Megan an uncharacteristic arm squeeze.
“Sit. I have something for you to try.”
Megan and Denver took a seat at the counter. The only other patron in the café was a thirty-ish woman on her laptop. She was sipping a coffee, a half-eaten slice of strawberry rhubarb pie in front of her.
“Don’t try to take that pie,” Emily said. “She griped at me twice.”
Megan smiled. “How’s Grace?” Grace was Emily’s toddler, and another of Bibi’s favorite people.
“She’s great. I was going to bring her to see your grandmother. Think that’s okay?”
“I think Bonnie will love seeing Grace but will scold you for bringing a child to a hospital,” Denver said. “Germs and all. I’d wait until she’s home.”
Megan agreed. “And then I’d plan to stay the whole day, because she will not want that child to leave.”
Alvaro returned with two steaming plates of food and a small bowl of honey. Megan saw tamales and rice and pinto beans and a small salad, plus a warm sopapilla. The food looked and smelled heavenly.
“Mexican comfort food. I know this is a hard time. I know you’re upset…well, you eat. There’s a surprise in there.”
Alvaro returned to the kitchen and Megan raised her eyebrows at Emily. “I think that was almost a proclamation of love.”
“Best you’re going to get. He’s been snapping at me all day because I don’t chop like Bonnie or grate like Bonnie or roll dough like Bonnie. Clearly he misses your grandmother.” Her eyes darkened. “How is she?”
“She’s better, thank you.” Megan willed herself to convey something other than the dread she was feeling. “I have a feeling she’ll be home by Tuesday. Maybe earlier if she continues to drive the staff crazy.”
Emily smiled. “Enjoy your meal.”
“When you’re done with that customer,” Megan nodded her head toward the pie lady, “Can we talk to you? We have a few questions about the day Bibi got sick.”
“Of course, but I thought she’d had a mini-stroke. At least that’s what the folks around here are saying. Was it something else?”
Megan and Denver exchanged a glance. “You’ll have to trust us on this one,” Megan said. “Just a few questions.”
With a knife and fork, Megan moved the corn husks surrounding the tamale and cut into the dish’s soft center. She took a bite. Immediately, she tasted the creamy sweetness of corn, the bite of poblano peppers, and the earthiness of zucchini.
Megan smiled, her first real smile of the day. “Alvaro made vegan tamales. I challenged him to do it, and he did it. And they are phenomenal.”
Denver was dipping his sopapilla into the honey. “These are amazing too.”
When Alvaro returned, Megan complimented the chef. “I have a plate of food for Bonnie,” he said, ignoring the praise. “Tell her Emily is even worse in the kitchen than she is. I would welcome her so-so skills back here anytime.”
Denver laughed. “We’ll tell her.”
“Alvaro, the day Bibi got sick, she was here twice, in the morning to meet Eloise Kent and in the afternoon when they stayed for a late lunch. Do you remember?”
Alvaro nodded. “It was a crowded day. All those people from that company. Tourists. And the Winsome people who never cook for themselves.”
“Do you recall seeing anything out of the ordinary? Anyone who made you suspicious?”
“Besides Merry Chance and her constant need for eggs? She must have the highest cholesterol in all of the world.” He shook his head. “Just crowded that day, that’s all I remember.”
When Emily returned, they asked her the same question. “I waited on Bonnie and Dr. Kent. Bonnie ordered soup, and Dr. Kent had the salad special. The boy, he asked for a plain sandwich, and Alvaro made him grilled cheese. I remember that. It was a normal day, nothing weird or out of the ordinary. My tips were good that day, better than usual.”
“Who was here from BOLD?” Denver asked. “Do you remember?”
Emily gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know them by name, so I couldn’t say.”
“What if I showed you their pictures? Would that help?”
“Maybe.”
Denver pulled out his phone and started sorting through photographs. He showed Emily a photo from dinner the night before the hike began, when Megan first met his college friends. Clover had joined them by now, and she looked over Denver’s shoulder at the photo.
“That person was here for lunch.” Emily pointed to Xavier. “He was sitting with her,” she pointed to Barbara, “and her.” She pointed to Martine. “I remember because the skinny one left before lunch was finished.”
Denver glanced up at her. “You mean Martine?”
“Yes. They seemed to be in deep discussion much of the lunch. She had spreadsheets and files out on the table. The man was pointing and doing most of the talking. Every once in a while, I’d hear his voice above the fray.”
“Did they interact with Bibi or her table at all?”
“I saw them throw a few nasty glances toward Dillon. But to be honest, they all were.”
“When you say ‘they,’ who do you mean?”
“All of them, I guess. Especially the woman.”
“Her?” he pointed to Martine.
“The other one.”
“Barbara.” Denver glanced at Megan. “Makes sense. She was not only Chase’s friend but his boss.” To Emily, he said, “What about the man, Xavier? Did he seem bothered by Dillon?”
“Not that I witnessed.”
It was Clover who spoke up: “I heard him say some pretty harsh things. He asked why the kid was still free and suggested that he be in a mental hospital for life.”
“But again,” Emily said, “it seemed liked everyone was reacting to Dillon’s presence. Most were just less overt about it.”
“How about the morning shift? Bibi got there before ten to meet Eloise and Dillon. Did you see her with anyone then?”
“I wasn’t here,” Emily said.
“I was, but I don’t remember seeing Bibi with anyone.” Clover leaned closer to the photo.
“Did you see this man there earlier in the day?” Denver pointed to Jatin.
Jatin’s face was obscured by the table center piece. “I can’t really see his features,” Clover said. “I remember seeing her.” She pointed to Martine. “And her.” She pointed to Barbara.
“Let me see if I can find a better picture.” Denver flipped through photos on his phone. He paused at one point, flipped forward and backward. “Hmm,” he said. “Look at this, Megs.”
Megan took the phone from him. On the screen was a shot of Chase. He was standing by the pond at Lyle State Park. He wore khaki cargo shorts and a red “STAFF” t-shirt. A red hat sat on his head, shielding his eyes. He was grinning and making a peace sign to the camera. It was a selfie, but Chase must have extended his arm to capture his whole upper torso.
“That was sent to you the day Chase was killed, right?” Megan leaned closer. “He sent this to you while you were kayaking.”
“He did, and I must have downloaded it to my phone. Look closer, Megs.”
She studied the photo. It only took her a second to see what he meant. A shadow was visible behind Chase. Megan could make out an arm and somet
hing else.
Something like a knife?
“Have you shown that to Bobby?”
“No. I forgot I even had it.”
“Look.” Megan pointed to the arm. “Chase seems oblivious to their presence.”
“Oblivious,” Clover said. “Or relaxed about it.”
“He doesn’t seem stressed, that’s for sure.” Denver looked up. “Are you saying this is or isn’t the killer, Megs? Because frankly you can’t see much about the person from this slice of shadow.”
“I’m saying that either the killer snuck up on him with the knife in hand, which implies forethought and malice—not impulsive anger—or the killer was standing with him beforehand. Someone Chase knew. Someone he wasn’t the least bit worried would use that knife.”
“Not like a troubled teen,” Emily said. “Even a fool would know better than to give a group of troubled teens knives.”
Denver wasn’t so quick to concede. “I see a happy Chase standing by the water. I see what looks like a shadow of a person standing behind him. I see what could be a knife in that person’s hand. But that’s a lot of ‘coulds,’ Megs. It could just as easily be a trick of the light. Or a teenage boy standing behind him, ready to swing.”
Megan said, “That would suggest premeditated murder.”
Their eyes met. “And poisoning a woman with lithium would suggest the same.”
“I just got a chill,” Clover said. “And not the good kind.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Megan said. “We need to get this photo to Bobby. The police have more puzzle pieces than we do. Maybe it will mean something to them.”
King took the photo and Denver’s statement about how it came into his possession. They were at the Winsome police station, in a small, dank room at the end of a small, dank hallway. Night was quickly closing in, and the police chief looked tired and sounded cross. He seemed less excited about the photo’s importance than Megan had, but he conceded that it could mean that an angry outburst in the course of an argument with Dillon was less likely.
