Flat White

by Sandra Balzo

  I frowned. ‘But Christy saw him being dropped off by a car. Why would that be? The Morrison is maybe five blocks away.’

  ‘Oh, people do that all the time,’ Caron said, waving her hand. ‘They just automatically call a cab or punch up a ride-share, not realizing how small Brookhills is.’

  ‘And it was snowing,’ Sarah reminded me.

  ‘That’s right.’ Caron was nodding. ‘I made that walk in the snow yesterday. It wasn’t fun.’

  ‘Did you see Margraves before you left?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I didn’t meet him at all. But apparently, he was nice enough. Left a housekeeping tip in the room. Which goes to show you can never tell.’

  ‘Because Margraves was cheating on his spouse?’ I asked. ‘I seem to recall you had a bout of that yourself.’

  Why was it I couldn’t help but point out the other side of the argument, whatever that argument might be?

  Caron’s freckled nose pinked up. ‘That was a long time ago, Maggy. And Bernie forgave me.’

  Much like I had forgiven Ted. But I had divorced him first. Bernie and Caron had stayed together, and I was glad they had. I loved them both.

  So I shut up about it. ‘Margraves flew in on Monday then, which makes sense given the conditions on Tuesday. How many nights did he book?’

  ‘Two. Though the room wasn’t slept in last night, obviously.’ She frowned. ‘Think I should refund it on his credit card?’

  ‘Why?’ Sarah asked. ‘It’s not like he’s going to know one way or the other.’

  ‘No, but his wife might appreciate it. She’s expected in tonight.’

  ‘And staying at the Morrison, too?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Did Christy know?’

  Sarah pulled a chair over. ‘That Margraves was married? No.’

  ‘She’s devastated,’ I told Caron. ‘For more reasons than one. Does the wife – Helena – know Barry had a room there?’

  ‘I don’t know. She booked her stay on the Internet.’

  ‘You should probably tell her when she checks in,’ I said. ‘She may want to take his things back.’

  ‘Or burn them,’ Sarah suggested as a train whistle blasted, signally it was pulling into the station. ‘Have you thought about what she’ll find?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Caron asked.

  ‘The guy packed for an affair. He’d have … things.’ She wiggled her eyebrows.

  ‘You mean like candles? Massage oil? Edible underwear?’

  ‘At best. At worst—’

  I held up a hand. Even the ‘best’ seemed incongruous when paired with Christy. ‘The thing is, Helena doesn’t know about Christy. According to Pavlik, it’s not in their purview to speculate on what – or who – Margraves was doing here.’

  ‘Nice turn of phrase,’ Sarah said approvingly.

  ‘Thanks. Just one of those things I’d normally repress and leave for you to say.’

  Sarah dipped her head. ‘It would have been an honor.’

  ‘But that’s the thing,’ Caron said, motioning us closer as the chatter of people alighting from the train reached us. ‘I checked the room this morning. There is nothing in it. No suitcase, no nothing.’

  I frowned. ‘He certainly didn’t have a suitcase with him yesterday. Are you sure he didn’t leave it with the bellman?’

  She nodded. ‘Positive. The room was slept in Monday night and housekeeping made it up the next morning. Towels were hung up and sheets were not changed because it was a two-night booking. We’re eco-friendly, you know.’

  I knew.

  ‘Like I said,’ Caron continued, ‘the bed was still made from Tuesday night, since he was—’

  ‘Dead,’ Sarah supplied. ‘But then what happened to his luggage?’

  ‘I wonder.’ I stood up to serve the incoming commuters. ‘And I’m also starting to wonder what else we don’t know about the dead guy, himself.’

  ‘Dramatic cliffhanger,’ was Sarah’s assessment after Caron left to run her husband Bernie home. ‘“What else we don’t know about the dead guy, himself.” Dun, dun dunnnn!’

  ‘I know.’ I was wiping tables after the unusual noontime rush. People had actually wanted to buy lunch. Go figure. ‘I like to give Caron a little something. Make her miss me.’

  ‘She does seem to want in on this one.’

  ‘This one what?’

  ‘Your investigation of whatever this is.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You miss her?’

  ‘Of course I do. Caron is all the things you’re not.’

  ‘That I’m not, huh?’ Sarah’s lips tightened. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Hopelessly naïve, for one thing,’ I said. ‘You look on the dark side, so you don’t shock as easily.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘That’s OK. Variety is good.’ I set down my cleaning cloth and picked up my phone to check the notifications. ‘No answer from Pavlik.’

  ‘What did you ask him?’

  ‘If Kelly Anthony talked to the ride-share driver. I’m not sure she would have, given they think it was an accident or negligence on Harold’s part.’

  ‘Which you don’t agree with.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘I just have a feeling there’s more to it. Where is his suitcase, for one thing?’

  ‘In the car?’

  ‘Maybe. It’s not at the hotel and he sure didn’t have it with him when he crossed the road.’

  ‘Maybe he left it on Christy’s porch? I mean, he was coming to see her.’

  ‘But Christy seemed a little affronted when Kelly Anthony asked if Barry was staying at her place.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean he didn’t have that intention.’

  I considered that. ‘I suppose. But she would have told us if she found his suitcase or duffel or whatever.’

  Sarah’s head tick-tocked side to side. ‘Probably. She doesn’t keep much to herself.’

  ‘But,’ I said, remembering, ‘Christy couldn’t have seen it until she and Rebecca went back to her house after the accident. We haven’t spoken to Christy since then.’

  ‘We have spoken to Rebecca, though,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘She didn’t say anything.’

  ‘And I watched them go into the house. Christy stopped for the mail, but I didn’t see her react to a suitcase or something unexpected on the porch. I should text and ask.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Sarah said. ‘Probably best to have her come here.’

  I groaned. ‘I am not going to ask Christy to come to the shop so you can disappear out the back.’

  ‘Oh, Maggy.’ Sarah took the rag from me. ‘You do know I can escape out the back door anytime I want. I don’t have to wait for relief.’

  ‘But you will, because you’re a good person.’

  ‘I’m not, you know.’ She was heading for the back.

  ‘I know. But don’t leave me this way.’

  Sarah stopped. ‘Thelma Houston. Disco. I’m surprised you didn’t sing it.’

  ‘I thought that might be too much.’

  ‘You’d be right.’ She threw the cleaning cloth in the dirty towel pile. ‘Are you ever going to take these home to wash?’

  ‘Tonight,’ I promised, digging my phone out of my apron pocket. ‘I’m going to call Kelly and ask her about the rideshare. And maybe text Christy about the suitcase.’

  ‘You’re really going to ask the bereaved other woman whether she has the dead guy’s suitcase?’

  ‘You’re right,’ I said, looking up from my phone. ‘That would be insensitive.’

  I punched up ‘recent calls’. ‘I’ll text Rebecca instead.’

  But nobody texted me back.

  ‘Sometimes I feel like my texts are disappearing into a black hole,’ I told Pavlik when he got home. ‘And don’t even get me started about emails.’

  ‘What—’

  ‘Or, God forbid, an actual phone call.’ I pulled the cork out of a Pinot Noir. ‘I don’t even bother leaving a voicemail for Eric. He never listens to them. Jus
t calls me back when he sees a “missed call” from me and feels like it. I’m his mother. What if I were dead?’

  ‘You wouldn’t answer?’ Pavlik set two glasses on the table.

  ‘Yes, but at least I’d have an excuse for behaving like everybody else does,’ I said. ‘Case in point: Kelly Anthony didn’t call me back today.’

  ‘That’s not Deputy Anthony’s job,’ Pavlik said, reaching for the glass of Pinot I had just poured for him.

  ‘You told her not to,’ I accused him, withholding the Pinot.

  ‘Yes.’ He took it anyway. ‘I’d prefer you ask me what you want to know instead of calling my deputies.’

  ‘That’s not very efficient,’ I said, leaning back against the kitchen counter. ‘You have more important things to do.’

  He grinned and pulled out a kitchen chair to sink into. ‘Those important things are now done. Ask away.’

  Obviously, Pavlik didn’t think my pumping his deputies for information was a good look. And he was probably right.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I sat down across from him. ‘It’s just that Caron stopped by today.’

  ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen her and Bernie. How are they doing?’

  ‘Just fine.’ I allowed the detour, knowing I would bring us right back on the main track. ‘They bought the Hotel Morrison, you know.’

  ‘Yes.’ Pavlik took a sip and waited.

  ‘Caron said Barry Margraves stayed there Monday night.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I cocked my head. ‘You knew that, too?’

  ‘I’m not surprised. It’s the logical place to stay in Brookhills.’

  Actually, it was the only place to stay in Brookhills. Most people visiting flew into Milwaukee and were likely to stay at one of the hotels downtown, like the luxe Slattery Arms, owned by my ex’s in-laws, or an airport hotel.

  ‘Margraves booked two nights,’ I told him.

  ‘Monday and Tuesday?’

  ‘Yes.’ I leaned forward. ‘Though the room went unused Tuesday night, obviously.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘Helena Margraves is booked for tonight – oh, I assume she made it in?’

  ‘To identify her husband’s body? Yes. And she confirmed it is Barry Margraves, before you ask.’

  ‘I had no doubt.’ I leaned forward, my fingers playing with the stem of the wine glass. ‘Thing is, when Caron told me Helena was staying, I suggested that she could take her husband’s belongings home.’

  ‘She will have gotten his personal effects after identifying his body.’

  ‘What was on him, yes. But I was talking about what he left in his room.’

  ‘Oh, good thought.’ Pavlik had been swirling his wine and now set it down. ‘What did you have for dinner?’

  ‘Toast.’ Bread was pretty much all we had in the house, which explained why the dogs were not hovering. The two of them would be eating better than the two of us until I got to the store for human food tomorrow. ‘Want some?’

  ‘Got peanut butter?’

  ‘Of course.’ I stood up. ‘Chunky or creamy?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’

  Good thing, because when I opened the chunky, it was nearly gone. As was the creamy, but between the two, I patched together enough to feed my man.

  ‘I’ll get some more tomorrow,’ I told him as I put the plate in front of him and sat down again.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘And maybe some other protein. And vegetables.’

  ‘You got it.’ I picked up my wine. ‘But back to Margraves’ hotel room. Caron told me it was empty.’

  ‘We’ve already established that he’s dead.’ Pavlik crunched into his toast with peanut butter all the way to the edges just as he likes it. Can’t say I’m not a good fiancée.

  ‘But she said the room was totally empty. No luggage, no toiletries. Which is why I called Kelly. I thought she might have contacted the taxi or ride-share and knew if he’d left his luggage in the car somehow. Or maybe dropped it off at the airport.’

  Now I seemed to have piqued Pavlik’s interest. ‘That is odd. Unless he didn’t have luggage.’

  That had not occurred to me. I sat back. ‘I suppose that’s possible. But why?’

  Pavlik shrugged. ‘Quick trip in and out?’

  ‘But he booked the hotel for two nights.’

  ‘Caron is sure of that? And that he didn’t leave bags with the bell clerk?’

  ‘She says so,’ I said, gnawing at my thumbnail as I thought. ‘Maybe I’ll stop by and see her at the hotel tomorrow. Just to confirm.’

  ‘Helena Margraves is flying out tomorrow. Better go early if you hope to catch a glimpse.’

  He knew me too well. ‘I am kind of curious.’

  ‘Probably late thirties. Nice, normal woman.’

  Normal was one-up on Christy. ‘You didn’t answer about whether Kelly contacted Barry Margraves’ driver.’

  ‘I don’t know the answer.’ He held up his plate. ‘Scare up enough peanut butter for a second slice and I’ll ask Kelly tomorrow?’

  ‘Deal.’

  The heel of the bread loaf was toasting, and I was using a rubber scraper to clean out the peanut butter jars when my phone rang.

  ‘Maggy!’

  ‘Christy?’ I popped up the toast. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I am, but I’m staying with Rebecca tonight.’

  ‘And there’s something wrong with her?’

  ‘No, no, no,’ Christy said irritably. ‘Is the sheriff there?’

  ‘Pavlik?’ I shrugged and put her on speaker phone as Pavlik waved me off. ‘He’s in the bathroom. It may be a while.’

  Pavlik rolled his eyes, but I knew he was grateful.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ I said.

  ‘I told you I’m staying with Rebecca. We finished up a jigsaw puzzle and I went back to my house to get my sheets and pack—’

  ‘You brought your own sheets?’

  ‘And pillow. I can’t believe you’re surprised at that.’

  I wasn’t. Not really. ‘Go on.’

  ‘I went to get my tennis bracelet because I forgot to put it on this morning and you’ll never believe it. It’s gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ I raised my eyebrows at Pavlik. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure.’ Then, presumably to Rebecca: ‘I told you someone was skulking around the house last night.’

  ‘I don’t think they got in then,’ Rebecca said, getting on the line. ‘But the lock on Christy’s back door has been forced.’

  Pavlik picked up my phone. ‘Christy, have you called the police?’

  ‘Yes, I called you,’ Christy said, seeming surprised. ‘Are you still in the bathroom?’

  ‘No.’ Pavlik scowled at me. ‘We’ll be there in ten.’

  ‘Wash your hands,’ I heard Christy say as I went to end the call.

  By the time we got to Christy’s, the squad that Pavlik had called en route was already parked in front. Kelly Anthony was standing on the porch with Christy and Rebecca.

  ‘A diamond tennis bracelet,’ she said, writing it down. ‘Anything else?’

  I mounted the steps in time to see Christy’s face redden in the porch light. ‘Yes, umm, a manila envelope.’

  ‘Containing …’ Anthony led her.

  ‘Containing … I’m not sure. I didn’t open it.’

  Kelly Anthony glanced at me and then back at Christy. ‘Was this the envelope we saw you retrieve from your mailbox yesterday after Mr Margraves was killed?’

  It was Rebecca who nodded. ‘It had Margraves’ return address. She didn’t open it.’

  ‘I couldn’t.’ Christy faltered, steadying herself by grasping the porch rail. ‘Just seeing his handwriting on the envelope, knowing he’d licked the flap himself. I … I just wanted to preserve it. I’d promised him we would open it together.’

  That was all well and good, but: ‘You said he was sending a diamond. Didn’t you want to see it?’

  ‘What for?’ Ch
risty was sniffling. ‘The promise it represented is gone. Everything is gone. Ruined.’

  I wasn’t sure if that was because Barry Margraves was married or dead. Or both. But it reminded me. ‘Did you see anything else here on the porch yesterday?’

  Her hand tightened on the railing. ‘Like what?’

  I glanced over at Pavlik and he nodded. ‘A bag maybe? A suitcase or duffel Barry might have left before he crossed the street to the shop.’

  ‘No.’ Christy’s forehead was wrinkled. ‘I told you he wouldn’t arrive expecting to stay at my house. He wasn’t like that.’

  Or married, she had believed. The truth was, Christy didn’t know anything about Barry Margraves. Not that I said that.

  ‘Back to the missing envelope,’ Anthony took up. ‘Not knowing what was in it, we can’t very well put a value on it. Was the bracelet, at least, insured?’

  ‘Insured?’ Christy ran her hand over her wrist like the bracelet was still there. ‘I’d only had it for a few days.’ Her voice broke.

  ‘Rebecca, you said a door was forced. Can you show us?’ Pavlik asked.

  She ushered Pavlik around to the back, the rest of us trailing. ‘Here.’

  Pavlik inspected the splintered wood of the back door. The lock was the type built into the doorknob. A tab you twist before closing the door to lock it. ‘You believe this happened last night?’

  ‘No.’ Christy shook her head positively. ‘The door was fine when I locked up to go to Rebecca’s this morning. But I am certain somebody was lurking last night. I think we must have scared away the thief and they came back after we’d left.’

  ‘You think they were watching you then?’ Anthony asked. She was keeping her voice even but seemed skeptical.

  ‘Could be,’ Christy said, nodding this time.

  ‘We were up practically all night with the vacuum going and the lights blazing,’ Rebecca said. ‘I can’t imagine anybody deciding to break in. I think Christy’s right that whoever it was came back after we’d gone to my place.’

  ‘Which was when?’ Anthony asked.

  ‘This morning after I got the drinks from Uncommon Grounds,’ Rebecca said. ‘When was that, Maggy?’

  ‘Maybe nine thirty,’ I guessed.

  ‘That sounds right,’ Rebecca, said. ‘Christy was taking a shower when I returned.’

  Christy shuddered. ‘I could have been stabbed in the shower. Like Janet Leigh in Psycho.’