Gartborg didn’t take her eyes off Alf. “I’ll handle this, Emily. Mr. Chator, earlier this evening when Ivan got away and I was looking for him, I became curious about who was renting a particular gray sedan parked beside a nearby cabin. I called the rental company. It’s rented in your name.”
“So?” Alf asked.
“So, your name was also on the family tree that Ivan brought me, showing your connection to Zipporah Melwyn and to Nina Lapeer, who has told us she was previously known as Nina Seaster. The police have been wanting to talk to the driver of that car after reports of some dangerous driving. I called the local detective. He was already on his way. He’d received a message that Emily was in trouble here. I see that she was.”
“Thank you,” I managed.
Alf scoffed, “Emily has a wild imagination. I always drive carefully. I never tried to hit her.” Alf must have heard me suck in my breath. He quickly added, “Or anyone else. Ever. The sun was in my eyes one night and I might have hit a curb, but I didn’t crash into anyone. And then tonight, Emily invited me to have dinner with her, and after a few drinks, she decided that my acceptance was causing some sort of trouble for her. That’s utter nonsense. She’s not all that attract—” Ivan’s big sloppy tongue prevented him from finishing the word. He pushed Ivan’s face away, but the irrepressible big dog put those teacup-sized paws on Alf’s chest again. “Can’t you get this mutt off me?”
“I can,” Gartborg answered, “but I won’t until backup arrives.”
Rod offered, “I have more rope. I can hogtie him.”
Alf complained, “This mutt’s heavy.”
“He’s still a puppy.” Detective Gartborg scratched Ivan’s ears and told him what a very fine boy he was. I was beginning to change my mind about the detective. Maybe she was good enough for Brent, after all.
I hadn’t forgotten that Dep was in the tree above us, but I had been distracted. I heard noises above my head and then Dep landed with a thump on Alf’s chest, between Ivan’s front paws.
As if spring-loaded, Ivan leaped straight up into the air. When he hit the ground, he backed as far as his leash would let him and sniffed in Dep’s direction. Dep arched her back and puffed up her fur and her tail.
And, apparently, extended her claws.
“Ouch!” Alf yelled. “What is this, bring-your-pet-to-meet-the-top-executive day?”
“Could be.” Gartborg seemed to enjoy sarcasm even when it might be directed at her.
Kassandra removed her hands from her face and stared at us.
Still holding the end of his lasso, Rod moved protectively toward her.
A quavering male voice shouted, “There she is! She must have knocked that man down again. And now she has accomplices!”
Chapter 35
I heard the welcome sound of Misty’s voice. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here. You four people can go back to the parking lot. We’ll talk to you there.”
A woman shouted in a shrill voice, “I still say he started it. He was dragging her out of the restaurant!”
Three flashlights bobbed toward us. Four others headed back toward the lodge.
Brent reached us first, but Misty and Samantha weren’t far behind. None of them were out of breath.
Alf focused on Misty, the one wearing a police uniform. “Arrest these women. They attacked me and sicced their vicious pets on me.”
Gartborg said quietly to Brent, “He admitted to killing Zipporah Melwyn.”
Alf shouted, “Did not!”
I contributed, “I heard him, too. He said he didn’t mean to kill her.” I accented the word “her” the same way he had. “He also threatened that I was next.”
Kassandra found her voice. “I heard that, too.”
“So’d I,” Rod concurred.
Alf argued, “That’s not saying that I killed anyone.”
Gartborg handed Ivan’s leash to Samantha and turned to me. “Emily, I don’t think our friend here on the ground quite caught my name when you were introducing everyone.”
“Alphaeus Chator,” I said in a singsong voice, “meet Detective Gartborg of the Wisconsin Division of Criminal Investigation.”
Alf muttered, “I didn’t kill anyone. Or hurt anyone, either.”
Brent detached Dep’s claws from Alf’s shirt and handed her to me. She was still puffed up. I cuddled her. She wriggled, but I was not about to let her go in case she decided to climb more trees. Warily, Ivan stared up at the tree trunk where Dep had been as if wondering how many more cats might be about to fling themselves down on him.
Telling Alf he was under arrest for the murder of Zipporah Melwyn, Gartborg flipped him over and handcuffed him. She rolled him onto his back again and called to Rod, “You can untie him now.”
Rod loosened his lasso and removed it from Alf’s ankles. Rod was deft and quick, but I sensed that he was a little reluctant to end his role in the capture of a murderer.
Misty and Brent helped Alf to his feet. “You’re coming with us, sir,” Misty said in even icier tones than she might have used for other murderers. Either Brent had told her, or she’d figured out that Alf was the driver who had aimed a rented car at Nina, Dep, and me.
Together, Misty and Brent marched Alf down the gravel road toward the parking lot. I asked Samantha, “Did Brent drive a cruiser here?” I knew that Misty probably hadn’t switched her own car for a cruiser at the scene of the collision.
“Yes, he did.”
I asked Gartborg, “Can they lock Alf inside it while I show you and Brent the white powder that spilled out of one of Alf’s shirtsleeves?”
With a low whistle of something like astonishment, she took Ivan’s leash from Samantha. “They sure can. Where’s this powder?”
“In the restaurant.”
Gartborg asked Samantha, “Do you mind coming along and hanging on to Ivan while I’m in the restaurant?”
“Not at all, especially if I can eat afterward. Emily, Misty said they were keeping the kitchen open for us.”
“They are. For some reason, you made a good impression on them.”
She pretended to swat at me.
With the help of Gartborg’s and Samantha’s flashlights, we started toward the lodge. I corralled Dep’s feet before she could scramble up onto my shoulders or head and make it almost impossible for me to keep her from charging off into the woods and climbing trees. “I hope they haven’t cleaned up the white powder while we were gone, but despite everything that happened to Alf this evening, he might still have some up his sleeve.” I imitated him telling Sweetheart about recycling his dirty shirts.
When Gartborg finished laughing, she commented, “He seemed to be wearing a lot of desserts.”
“That was my fault,” I admitted. “I knocked him down with a platter of them.”
Hearing Kassandra giggle, I looked over my shoulder. She and Rod were following us. Rod, who seemed prepared for nearly anything, had a flashlight.
Gartborg told them they could go back to their cabins and give her their statements later.
Kassandra offered, “I could hold the kitty while Emily goes into the restaurant.”
“I’ll help you, Kassandra,” Rod drawled. “I like kitties and dogs.”
I asked them, “How did you both happen to be at the resort where Samantha’s wedding preparations are going on and Alf Chator was staying?”
Kassandra answered first. “I didn’t know about the wedding or that it had anything to do with you, Emily. I arrived in Fallingbrook in July and have been staying here while I look for a place to rent. When I filled in my permanent addresses on job applications, I put my old address—that’s the one I gave you, Emily—or the pub’s address because, well, staying in a resort might have looked fishy. Mr. Chator wasn’t here until today. A nice retired couple was staying in that cottage. After I saw Mr. Chator here and recognized him as the man who’d been in Suds for Buds, I didn’t know what to do. I hid in my cabin. Then I saw you near his cabin, and that really scared m
e. I was afraid that you and he were part of a gang out to get Zippy and me.”
I suggested gently, “You could have called the police.”
Kassandra whispered, “I was too afraid.”
Gartborg said something like, “Oof,” but maybe the grunt was only a comment about the way Ivan was pulling. She added, “I wish you had called the police, Kassandra. I’m staying at the end of the cul-de-sac. And the only thing scary about me is my teenage boys and this monster that they were supposed to be looking after. Cool it, Ivan.”
He didn’t.
Rod corroborated that an older couple had been staying in the cabin between his and Kassandra’s until that day, and then Alf had moved in. “I’ve been here for a week, between rodeos. They have a stable, so I can keep Lucky nearby, look after him, and ride him.”
I asked Kassandra, “Why did you come to Fallingbrook? Were you following Zippy?”
“I knew where she planned to perform as a mime. I was desperate to get my paintings back, so I tried to meet her here, but I didn’t succeed. If only I had also seen her go into Nina’s loft, I might have recognized her and run across the street to talk to her, and she might still be alive, but I didn’t.”
And Alf would have found a different way to try to prevent Nina from ever inheriting from her folks, and he might have continued trying until he succeeded. I didn’t say it. I asked Kassandra, “Why did you leave the two jobs you had in Fallingbrook without giving notice?”
“Like I told you, I was afraid that the man I’d talked to in Suds for Buds was a murderer, and he might come back there and find me. Then, my last afternoon at The Craft Croft, I saw him looking through the window, and I was afraid he recognized me. But I wasn’t careful enough when I drove back here. I think he followed me, and then he moved in today, right next door to me. I’m . . . I’m glad you caught him.”
Gartborg said drily, “So am I.”
I agreed, and then asked Rod, “Will you be performing evenings this weekend? I have to work during the days.”
“Yep. Both Friday and Saturday nights.”
“I’m coming to cheer you on. Want to go with me, Kassandra? The Craft Croft closes at six on Saturdays.”
“That would be nice, but I’m not sure that Summer will take me back.”
“She will,” I stated, “after we explain.”
In the parking lot, the four seniors watched Misty and Brent put Alf into the back of an unmarked cruiser. The woman who had championed my cause, off and on, crowed to the other three, “See? I told you!”
Ivan apparently found all of this activity very exciting. In my arms, Dep lifted her head and stared toward the puppy. She was obviously scornful of his undignified and uncatlike behavior.
Misty stood beside the locked cruiser where she could prevent Alf from even thinking about trying to open doors that couldn’t be opened from the inside. She called to the four seniors, “Come give me your contact information. We’ll get your statements in the morning.” She removed her pen and notebook from pockets in her armored vest and asked Gartborg, “Would you like me to take Kassandra’s and Rod’s statements if you have other things you need to do?”
Gartborg nodded. “We do, but I’ve had dinner. I’ll come out as soon as we’re done inside, and then I’ll take over the interviews so you can eat.”
Misty smiled and thanked her.
Gartborg and Brent both made phone calls and asked someone to pick up a fugitive. In Gartborg’s case, the fugitive was Ivan. In Brent’s, the fugitive was Alf. Brent also asked for a team of crime scene investigators.
Kassandra and Rod didn’t need to hold my cat. Gartborg took Ivan’s leash while Samantha helped me put Dep into Samantha’s car. “It’s only for a little while,” I told Dep. The night air was soft and warm but not hot. Dep should be comfy.
Samantha, Kassandra, and Rod stayed outside with Ivan while Brent and Gartborg went with me to the restaurant.
The hostess was too short to see out the high window in the front door. She was holding the door ajar and peeking through the opening. She let us in. “We didn’t touch a thing,” she told me proudly. “Where’s Samantha?”
I pointed. “In the parking lot. You probably don’t recognize her in her EMT uniform. She’s the one hanging on to the dog.” Ivan was trying to pull Samantha into the restaurant, but Samantha was strong. Rod looked ready and eager to help her.
Gartborg and Brent showed the hostess their badges. Gartborg asked, “Mind if we have a look around?”
The hostess stepped back. “Of course not.” She shot me a perplexed look. “You mean all of that wasn’t some kind of bachelorette prank? Was that man really trying to drag you out of the restaurant?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry I made a mess, but I didn’t dare let him take me with him.”
“I should hope not! But then you went outside after he did, so it all seemed like part of the game.”
Brent studied my face. He did not look happy.
Chapter 36
I showed Brent and Detective Gartborg the black scuff marks and the spilled sugar. Brent seemed to understand that I had not purposely put myself in danger. He let me remove my cute little yellow purse from the table.
He taped off the area around where Alf and I had sat. He and Gartborg decided we could sit at a table on the other side of the restaurant, and then Gartborg went back to the parking lot to take Kassandra’s and Rod’s statements. The chef brought out delicacies for Brent, Misty, and Samantha.
I answered Brent’s questions. He confirmed that Nina would be released and that her loft was still a crime scene.
I handed him my house key. “I want to stay here at the resort, but tell her she’s welcome to go back to my place.”
Gartborg came back inside and told us she’d sent forensics investigators to check out Birch cabin before they investigated the restaurant. Gartborg questioned the restaurant staff.
White-suited investigators came into the restaurant. After conferring with them, Brent and Gartborg headed off to police headquarters to question Alf Chator. I hoped that Brent had gotten enough to eat.
Misty and Samantha finished their meal, and we trooped outside. Rod, Kassandra, and Ivan had all left the parking lot.
Samantha drove Dep and me to Birch cabin while Misty followed in her car. Hugging Dep on the cabin’s porch, I shined my phone’s light on the window I’d left slightly open. Despite all his cursing and rattling, Alf hadn’t managed to open it farther. There was a hole in the screen.
Misty commented, “Alphaeus Chator made a habit of punching holes in screens. I think you solved the case, Emily.”
“With help from Kassandra Pyerson, Rodeo Rod, Ivan the puppy, and Dep. And of course, Brent and Detective Gartborg. She mentioned her kids. Do you know if she’s married, Misty?”
“She’s a single mom. She has twin sixteen-year-old boys that she raised alone. I don’t know if their father ever helped or if she’s divorced, widowed, or never married.”
I had to admit, “She’s a lot nicer than I thought at first.”
“She’s okay,” Misty agreed, “but not for Brent.”
I asked her, “What are the boys like?”
“I’ve met them only once, but they seemed genuinely nice and mature for their age. I hear they win all sorts of prizes in school, in both sports and academics. And they’re obviously responsible enough for her to let them stay alone in the resort and look after the dog while she’s working.”
In other words, although the twins might have had problems preventing their dog from escaping, they were kids that Brent would undoubtedly enjoy being around. With Detective Gartborg, they could be a ready-made family for Brent, complete with a loveable if slightly bumptious dog.
I carried Dep inside and set her down near her carrier. She jumped onto what seemed to be her favorite perch in the cabin, the arm of the love seat. All she would be able to see in the window at the moment would be her own reflection. Maybe Samantha and Misty felt the same way I
did about the possibility of anyone outside peering in at us. We pulled the curtains across the windows. I made certain that the one with the broken screen was again firmly closed and locked.
The cabin did not appear to have been disturbed except for fingerprint powder on the window frame that Alf touched while trying to open the window.
“Why did he do that?” Samantha asked. “Was he trying to get inside?”
Misty’s answer was terse. “He was probably planning to hide in here and ambush Emily. He must have reasoned that she’d return here.”
“How did he know which cabin?” I asked.
“Your car. Plus, he followed you to the restaurant tonight.”
“He wasn’t on the road behind me. I kept checking.”
“He was walking between the cabins and the beach and keeping track of you.”
Samantha asked, “How do you know all of this already?”
“Brent got it out of Alf when we were escorting him to the parking lot.”
I commented, “Alf didn’t seem particularly willing to admit to his crimes.”
Misty gave us an impish smile. “Alf made it sound like he was following you because he was worried about you alone in the woods.”
I shuddered. “Ugh. Let’s forget about him.” I picked up the note propped against the jar of flowers and waved it at them. “How was the collision?”
Misty shrugged. “Not as bad as it could have been. A couple of people will be in the hospital for a while.”
Samantha added, “I wasn’t needed. Other EMTs took care of nearly everything, including transporting the injured people to the hospital.”
Misty glanced toward the fridge. “Let’s forget all that, too. I don’t know about Samantha, but now that both of us are no longer on duty or even on call, I want to get out of this uniform and start on the wine.”
Chapter 37
At the rehearsal the next afternoon, Hooligan and Samantha practiced everything except reciting their actual vows. I listened carefully. The minister didn’t say Hooligan’s and Samantha’s full names.
Beyond a Reasonable Donut Page 26
