Chapter 17
Deena had just enough time to change clothes and eat a sandwich before heading off to the library for class.
The main part of the library was quiet and almost empty. A few people wandered the fiction stacks, and Nancy was helping an older man make copies. She could hear chatter coming from the reading room.
It looked like most of her fellow classmates were already there. She didn’t see Lydia or Betty. She took her same seat in the back.
It’s funny how people are such creatures of habit. As a teacher, she never had to assign seats in her class. Once a student sat somewhere they liked, that was their seat forever. Period. And you had better not try to sit there. Girls were the most protective. Seems like the same thing happened in church.
Max Dekker walked in a few minutes later, appearing understandably more haggard this week. His tie was slung over his shoulder and his jacket hung across his arm. He set his briefcase on the desk and opened it. As he peered inside, he straightened his tie and slipped on a blue version of the same jacket he had worn the week before.
He looked up and caught Deena staring at him. A smile crossed his face as he walked back to where she was sitting. “Mrs. Sharpe, may I have a word with you in private?”
All eyes followed them as they walked out of the back of the reading room. She swallowed hard, feeling like she’d just been hauled off to the principal’s office.
“I just wanted to thank you for attending my wife’s memorial on Saturday. Besides my realtor, you and your brother were the only local people there.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
“We haven’t made much of an effort to get involved in the town and haven’t made any friends here. That will change. I hope I may consider you my friend.”
“Of course.” Guilt seeped into her mind, knowing she was hiding her ulterior motive for attending the service. She hoped it didn’t show. It never hurt to be the teacher’s pet.
“Detective Guttman told me what all you did in helping to identify Joseph Ramos and clear your friend of the crime. I must admit that I had my doubts about his story.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe his glasses. “The last thing I would ever want is to see an innocent man convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.”
“I agree. Cliff is a really good guy. He could never do something as horrible as this.”
“Maybe I’ll get to meet him and apologize in person for his...inconvenience.”
Betty walked by carrying a plastic bag filled with cookies. Her face was flushed. “I’m just going to put these on the desk for you to take home,” she said to Max without stopping.
Had she changed her mind about the two-timing cheater or was this gesture akin to giving an apple to the teacher? Deena turned her attention back to Max. “I heard they were going to be making an arrest soon. Joseph Ramos, I assume.”
“That would be my guess, too, although I don’t know for sure. He is one seriously troubled man.” Max glanced at his watch. “Time to get started, I suppose.” He motioned toward the door and followed Deena inside.
She took her seat just as Betty was coming back to their table. Deena did a quick head count. Only one person was absent. “Where’s Lydia?” she whispered to Betty.
“After what happened the other day, she probably decided not to come back. I told you at least one person always drops out.”
Max Dekker sat on the stool at the podium, looking professorial and distinguished. She was surprised he hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Surely most people would expect him to say a word or two about his wife. “Last week we discussed characters. This week, we will be discussing plot.”
Deena opened her spiral to the page where she had listed the suspects in Alexis Dekker’s murder. She turned to a clean page.
“If you want to create a memorable, interesting plot, you really have to think outside the box. Surprise your readers,” he said. “Don’t make your villain too obvious.”
A woman in the second row of tables raised her hand and waved it around like Horshack in Welcome Back, Kotter. “Ooh, ooh. I have a good idea. I’m going to write a mystery where an exterminator is a serial killer, and the story is told from the point of view of a rat!”
“Hmm.” Max folded his arms across his chest. “That is definitely out-of-the-box thinking.” He suppressed a grin and glanced back at Deena.
She smiled as he continued. Were they actually becoming friends? Could she be friends with someone like him? She hated to be judgmental, but the man was kissing his ex-wife the day after his current wife’s murder. There had to be more to it. Maybe if she could get to know him better, he would give her the lowdown on the situation. Maybe he and his wife were separating. Maybe...
She tuned back in to the lecture.
“After you have come up with how the victim is killed, you need a list of suspects. Ask yourself, ‘Who might have had a motive to kill?’”
Deena turned back a page in her spiral and looked at the list she had made previously. The first name listed was Max’s. She drew a line through it. Even before today, she didn’t believe he was a killer. She had looked in his eyes at the memorial and had gotten a sense about him. He didn’t have an evil presence. She usually trusted her gut and was glad her instinct was right.
Next was Melissa. Besides Cliff, she was the last person to have seen Alexis alive. Sure, she might not have liked styling the woman’s hair, but that was no motive for killing her. Guttman was probably right. Melissa had left town for a while because she was upset. Maybe she had a personal issue. Either way, she was in the clear. Deena drew a line through her name, too.
Cliff. She scratched his name out with several heavy lines. How could she have even suspected him of such a dastardly deed? The last name on the list was Guttman’s. The dirty cop theory no longer made sense. It had been a longshot at best. She crossed out his name.
What about Harold Pratt, the man who had helped Cliff? Maybe he had a secret motive. If she were writing a book, he might be the perfect person to pin the murder on. But this was real life. He seemed like a nice guy who had stopped to do a good deed, and that’s all. Besides, he had taken the time to talk to the detective on Cliff’s behalf. She didn’t bother adding his name to the list.
But there was another suspect. She added Joseph Ramos to her list. Max’s voice buzzed in one side of her brain as he talked about means, motive, and opportunity. What about Ramos? She knew that Guttman would check his whereabouts for the time of the murder. That would be crucial to the case. He had already been accused of stalking Max Dekker. If he were in town, Ramos would certainly have a motive since he obviously blamed Max for the death of his wife. Even if that blame were misplaced, it would have been real to him.
Since Max had taken out a restraining order against Ramos, he was obviously a threat. That reminded her of something Dan said. Alexis had driven Max’s car to the salon that evening. Had Ramos intended to kill Max instead? Or did he want to kill Max’s wife so the writer would suffer just as he had? No wonder Max had described the man as troubled.
It was possible Ramos only showed up after he heard about Alexis’s murder, but if that was the case, it left the big question still unanswered. Who killed Alexis Dekker? Was there another suspect out there? One who hadn’t yet shown his—or her—true colors?
A noise in the back of the room made Deena glance over her shoulder. The reading room door opened and in walked Linus Guttman with three uniformed policemen at his heels. They walked straight up to the podium. “Maxwell Dekker, you are under arrest for the murder of Alexis Dekker.”
One officer put his hand on Max’s arm while the other clapped on the handcuffs. Silence fell over the room. The third officer pulled on latex gloves and began putting Max’s belongings back in his briefcase. He picked up the case and led Max toward the exit.
Guttman continued. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you do not have an attorney...”
IT WAS LIKE DÉJÀ VU, only this time Betty wasn’t the first to speak.
“Who do you suppose we call to get our money back for this class?” It was the exterminator-plot lady.
Several people around her shook their heads.
“I’ll call and see what I can find out,” Betty said. Her voice shook more this time. “Before you leave, please take some cookies from the office. I bought enough for everyone.” She stood next to the wall and wrung her hands as everyone filed out. “Deena, wait up.”
When everyone else had left, she walked over to the table to pick up her notepad. “Did you know this was going to happen?”
“No. Why would you think I’d have known?”
“Because you’ve been...involved...investigating...something like that.”
Deena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Good ol’ Maycroft grapevine at play again. “I’m just as surprised as you are. In fact, I thought they were going to arrest a different suspect. Someone who had a beef about one of Max’s books.”
“His books? What’s that about?”
Deena considered telling her about Joseph Ramos, but if she did, she would be as big a gossip as the rest of the leaves on the grapevine. Besides, it wasn’t like she and Betty were good friends, as she once believed. “I bet there’s going to be a story all about it in tomorrow’s newspaper. You can read all about it then.” She put her satchel on her shoulder and headed toward the door.
“Let me walk you out at least.”
“It’s actually still a little light out. I’ll be fine.”
“No bother. I feel a little responsible for you being in this mess since I talked you into taking the class in the first place.”
Deena couldn’t muster the energy to argue with Betty. She seemed so anxious to make amends. But the wind had just been totally knocked out of Deena’s sails. Could she have really been so wrong in her estimation of Max Dekker? Could her gut instinct have failed her so badly? Her head was pounding and spinning at the same time.
They walked around to the back of the lot where Deena had parked. It was dusk, but the front lights in the parking lot had come on and the Fitzhugh Library glowed like a football stadium on a Friday night.
Deena didn’t want to tell Betty about Cliff and how she probably would have gotten involved in spite of taking the class. Still, she wouldn’t have fallen for those puppy dog eyes of Max Dekker if she hadn’t taken the class. “You’re right. I would have been elbow deep in batter instead of blood.”
Betty frowned.
“Sorry. The teacher in me went for the alliteration.” She used the button on her key fob to unlock the car door.
Betty sniffed the air. “Do you smell something?” She looked like one of those drug-sniffing dogs inspecting the school lockers. She walked around to the other side of the car and bent down. “There’s something pooling under your car.”
Deena bent down and saw a puddle shining on the pavement. She pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight feature. “Holy moly. What is that?”
“Pop your hood and we’ll look.” Betty moved to the front of the car.
“I don’t know how. I’ll just drive home and let Gary take a look at it.”
Betty tilted her head. “Maybe you should sign up for a car maintenance class instead of cooking. There should be a handle to pull on the left side down near the floorboard.”
Deena used her flashlight and pulled on a handle she had never noticed before.
The hood clicked, and Betty raised it up.
Deena walked to the front to shine the light around for Betty. “What are we looking for?”
Betty leaned in closer. “It looks like your brake line is leaking.”
DEENA CLUTCHED THE edge of the car to steady herself. What on earth was going on? Had someone cut her brake line? Who would do this?
Her first instinct was to call Gary. Instead, she dialed 9-1-1.
By this time, a small crowd who had mingled in the parking lot after class had gathered around. Between bites of cookies, they mumbled their speculations about what might have happened.
After explaining her emergency, she called Gary. She could hear Hurley barking in the background and assured him that the police were on their way. He had a million questions, but she just told him to come get her and she would give him the details then.
Betty had joined the onlookers. They stood off to the side almost as if they were afraid to get too close in fear of catching some deadly virus. Deena wasn’t sure what to do. She stood by the car. Obviously, she didn’t want to get in, just in case the police wanted to dust it for fingerprints. Did they still do that, or was that just something they did on TV?
The squeal of sirens cut through the night air and was a welcome relief. Two squad cars pulled up, and three officers emerged. Deena recognized one as Cassidy Nelson.
“Officer—I mean, Sergeant Nelson. Thanks for coming.”
“When I heard your name, I decided to come myself.” She pulled out her notepad. “So tell me what happened here.”
“I was in the library for class—a writing class—with Max Dekker.”
Sergeant Nelson raised an eyebrow.
“When I came out to my car, my friend Betty smelled something.” Deena looked around for Betty who was standing at the back of the crowd. “I opened the hood, and Betty said my brake line had been cut. After what happened to Alexis Dekker...”
“I understand.” She walked over to where one of the officers was looking under the hood with a flashlight.
Deena spotted Gary’s red Mercedes pulling into the parking lot. He parked and jumped out of the car. He looked over at the officers and said, “Here we go again.”
“Except this time, I’m the victim.” The words made her quiver.
Sergeant Nelson walked over to get a statement from Betty. Another officer asked if anyone in the crowd had seen anything suspicious. The third officer snapped pictures of the car and the engine.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Gary said, wrapping her up in a bear hug. “If Betty hadn’t seen that...”
“I know.” As she looked over Gary’s shoulder, something caught her eye. A white Ford sedan was parked next to the back of the building. Her mouth dropped open, and she stepped back out of Gary’s grasp. She started toward the car. Was someone in it? Was someone watching her?
“Deena?” Gary called out.
As she got closer, she could tell the car was empty. She turned around to answer him, and there, on the next row of the lot, was another white Ford sedan—also unoccupied.
Gary caught up with her. “What is it, hon?”
She felt her mouth move but her voice seemed to come from a distance. “Those cars. Someone has been following me. A white Ford.”
Gary led her back toward the police cars. “Officer Nelson.”
“Sergeant,” Deena corrected him.
“I’m going to take her inside to sit down,” Gary said.
“I’ll be right in,” Sergeant Nelson said. “Get her some water.”
Inside, the library was, well, as quiet as a library. She let Gary lead her to the first table they came to.
Nancy rushed up. “What’s going on outside, Deena? I saw the police cars. Did someone try to mug you?”
“Can you get her a glass of water?” Gary asked, his face pale with worry.
Nancy nodded and headed toward the office.
He sat next to Deena. “Why didn’t you tell me someone had been following you?” There was an edge to his voice.
“I didn’t know if I was just imagining it. Now I think it was true.”
“Did you see the car? Get the license number?”
“No. It was a white Ford sedan. There are two in the parking lot.”
Nancy returned with a cup of water and two of Betty’s cookies. “Here.” She set them on the table in front of Deena.
Gary gave Nancy a quick synopsis of the incident.
Deena tried to regain her senses, and her fear sub
sided. She clenched her teeth and breathed faster. “As soon as I find out who did this, I’m gonna strangle them!”
Gary and Nancy both stared at her, wide-eyed expressions on their faces.
She turned to Nancy. “Do you know anyone around here who drives a white Ford sedan?”
“Sure,” Nancy said. “Betty does.”
“WE’RE GOING TO HAVE to impound your car,” Sergeant Nelson said to Deena. “We’ll see if we can get any evidence off of it. I have a truck on the way to pick it up.” She turned to Nancy. “The library is closed, as of now. Will you make sure no one comes in besides my officers?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nancy said and headed for guard duty by the front entrance.
The sergeant pulled a chair up next to Deena. “I need to ask you some more questions.”
“First, I need to tell you something.” Deena sucked in a calming breath and let it out slowly. “For the last week, I’ve had the sense that someone was following me. I kept seeing the same white Ford sedan. First at the police station and then on the street several times. I never saw the driver.”
“That’s a pretty common vehicle around here. Did you get a license number?”
“No. But just now, I saw there were two of them parked out back. Apparently one belongs to Betty Donaldson, but I don’t know who owns the other.”
“Hmm. Let me get an officer on it. Hopefully, the cars are still out there.” She hurried outside.
“What do you think?” Deena asked, watching her husband’s face. The laugh lines seemed deeper than she remembered.
“Well, obviously it wasn’t Betty. She just...she just saved your life.”
Deena rubbed her face with both hands. “That’s right. If she hadn’t seen that puddle...”
“The police can track down the driver of the other car—and every white Ford sedan in Maycroft, if that’s what it takes.”
Betty came flying in through the back door of the library. “Deena, I’m so glad you are okay.”
Cozy Suburbs Mystery Box Set Page 61
