by Tessa Kelly
“Are there any other suspects besides your dad?”
“I asked him if he could think of anyone else who might’ve had the motive to kill Sonny. He said he overheard some rough words between Sonny and Angela at the pub one night. That was about a month before the wedding.”
I put down my grilled cheese. Felisha and I both leaned in toward him.
"And?"
“Dad said Sonny’s exact words were, ‘Dave doesn’t know, does he?’ And Angela had this look on her face like she was about to hit him. She told him he better keep his mouth shut, or else.”
“Holy cow!” Felisha’s eyes widened. “She was threatening him?”
“Yeah.” Will nodded and finished his beer. “But that fight could’ve been about anything. It’s not enough to make her a real suspect.”
I felt a sudden twinge of guilt. Here we were, desperately trying to find a way to pin this murder on someone else other than Dad, forgetting that we were talking about real people. People with loved ones and troubles of their own. People, whose lives had been darkened by this sudden death. Angela was starting a new chapter with David. She’d seemed so happy at the wedding. And Kim, who’d just lost her father...
But, for them at least, there would be other beginnings. Their lives would go on, hopefully to better and happier things. Sonny would never have another beginning. He’d never even get to see his daughter graduate from college.
Someone had planned this thing. They’d stolen Dad’s gun, stood in front of Sonny, and pulled the trigger. And now, Dad was getting the blame.
No. It wasn’t we who were being callous. We were simply doing what we had to.
As if to underscore my point, Asimov chose that very moment to leap up onto the table. I quickly scooped him up and set him down in my lap, where he curled up and purred as I scratched him behind the ears.
If we were to save Dad from prison, we had to stay objective and consider anyone with a motive a suspect. Which brought me to my next question, “Will, when you were at the precinct, did you get any new information? Do Greene and Carver have any idea yet who stands to benefit from Sonny’s death? How much money did he have?”
“I don’t know the exact amount,” Will said. “With the two houses and some stocks, he was worth over five million. It’s going to be split up between Lauren, Angela, and Kim. The house he lived in goes to Lauren, along with some money. The restaurant building will be Kim’s, once she’s twenty-one, and Angela gets Sonny’s share in the restaurant.”
“But Kim’s not twenty-one yet,” Felisha said. “That means, Angela is going to be in charge of her stuff until she’s old enough.”
“There’s something else, too,” Will said. “Carver phoned Sonny’s lawyer, and he said Sonny called him a week after the wedding was announced. He wanted to change his will. It sounds like he was going to cut someone out, maybe.”
Felisha’s eyes lit up. “That’s motive, right? Is Angela our new suspect now?” Suddenly, she gave a loud sneeze, spraying all over the unfinished grilled cheeses. "Sorry." She pouted. “It’s definitely the cats, Sandie. My allergies are totally acting up!”
“You’re right.” I got up from the table, keeping Asimov at a safe distance from her. “This was a bad idea. I’ll keep them in my room tonight and take them back to the shop tomorrow morning.”
“Well...” Felisha looked conflicted. “We’ll see. Maybe I can take some allergy medicine or something.”
“Uh-ho.” Will suddenly grinned. “You’re not letting these cats go without a fight, huh? Dad’s gonna have to wrestle them from you when he gets back.”
I swallowed a lump, suddenly overcome by a desperate need for reassurance that all would be well.
“We will get him out,” I said. “Right, Will? It’ll be okay.”
He stopped smiling and met my eyes with a steady gaze. “I’m not gonna let him down, sis. Trust me.”
A rush of warmth swelled in my chest. Reaching over, I ruffled his crew cut. “It’s pretty late, little bro. Do you want to spend the night? You can sleep on the couch.”
He shrugged. “Nah, I gotta head home.”
“No, you should stay!” Felisha got up and edged around the table, keeping her distance from Asimov in my arms. “The couch pulls out. You’ll be totally comfortable.”
“No, guys. Come on.” Will drummed his fingers on the table, looking uncomfortable. “I can’t stay, I really should go.”
Felisha and I exchanged a scrunched-eyebrow look. What was going on here? I narrowed my eyes at my brother. “Will, you don’t think we have cooties, do you?”
He laughed. “Okay. If you’ve got to know... it’s because you don’t have any Pringles.”
It was the last thing I expected to hear. “What?”
“I’ve got to have XTRA Screamin’ Dill Pickle Pringles for breakfast,” he said slowly. “If I don’t, I can’t go on duty. Okay?”
Felisha continued to look puzzled as she stared at him, but I suddenly snorted. “Wait. You think, if you don’t eat Pringles for breakfast, something bad will happen at work?”
“Something like that. Yeah.” He stared down at the table, not meeting my gaze.
“Huh. I thought only sports players had these kinds of superstitions,” I said.
He shrugged. “Cops do, too. And there’s more at stake with what we do.”
Like losing your life, instead of a silly game. A shiver ran down my spine, filling me with regret for having laughed at my brother. Sometimes, I forgot how hard Will’s job really was. Having to face danger on a daily basis, little rituals like Pringles for breakfast had to be a survival mechanism and helped him to face the day. How was it that I didn’t know about this until now? I’d thought I knew my brother so well. Maybe I’d been away from my family for too long...
“But... why Pringles?” I asked.
He kept his voice monotone, the way he did when trying to keep a lid on his emotions. “I was out of corn flakes one morning. All I had was a can of XTRA Screamin’ Dill Pickle Pringles, so I had ‘em for breakfast. There was a shootout that day, my very first one. I didn’t get hurt, so...”
“So now you have them every morning, as a good luck charm,” I said.
He nodded. “I guess you understand.”
“I do.” My fingers closed around the green pendant at my neck. After all, wearing a lucky Irish marble was really no different from Will’s chips-for-breakfast idea, if it made him feel more in control on his job.
As Will got up, Felisha and I followed him out into the hallway.
“I’ll get some of that flavor next time you come over,” I promised, glancing at Felisha. A fierce opponent of MSG, she never let me have store-bought chips in the house.
This time, though, she reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
Once the door closed behind Will, I picked up the carrier with Hemingway and took him and Asimov into my room.
My thoughts returned to Angela. Could she have been the one behind Sonny’s murder? If so, would the police be able to prove it? I’d read somewhere that, while almost forty percent of all murders in the United States went unsolved, each year nearly ten thousand people got wrongfully convicted of serious crimes.
No doubt, the police would do their best to bring Sonny’s killer to justice. But, with Dad on the line, I couldn’t sit back and wait and hope for a happy resolution. I needed to do something. I was a civilian and personally acquainted with the people involved. It was possible they might see me as less of a threat than a police detective, and open up where otherwise they would keep their mouths shut.
But where would I start? I glanced at Marlowe scratching himself at my feet.
“You know you’re named after a brilliant detective, right? Help me. What do I do?”
Marlowe turned his brown head and stared at me out of his sad, liquid eyes. He stood up and put his head on my knee with a low whine.
As I reached to rub him behind the ears, I smiled.
I had an idea.
<
br /> Chapter 5
I stifled a yawn and took a gulp of coffee from my portable mug as Marlowe dragged me down the street. He'd woken me up at five thirty by standing up at my bedside with his front paws on the comforter and the leash in his teeth. It was so not my definition of an ideal morning.
Most days, I liked to take a leisurely shower and enjoy a cup of coffee or two, water and prune my rapidly growing herb garden, and only then choose my outfit and head out the door. Not today. I had to forget about all that as I flew around the place like a tornado, barely remembering to pour cat food into Hemingway and Asimov’s bowl, while Marlowe whined and scratched at the door.
Now he was pulling on the leash with enviable energy and a zest for life, and eagerly sniffed everything in his path. As if he hadn’t stayed awake half the night with the rest of us.
“Marlowe, slow down,” I chided. “Why can’t you be a night owl like me?”
Marlowe wagged his tail without looking at me and only pulled harder on the leash.
The dog park was twelve blocks away. On reaching it, I set my charge free and he trotted off across the grassy lawn toward a tall black poodle. A profusion of sniffing and tail wagging ensued that quickly evolved into a spirited chase with lots of barking and playful biting.
A few feet away, a blue-eyed husky sat on his haunches next to his owner and watched the two friends attentively. He looked like he hadn’t made up his mind whether to approach them and introduce himself. The husky’s owner didn’t suffer from the same indecision. Liam waved and strode over to me across the grass.
“Hey, gorgeous! Haven’t seen you here before.”
I smiled. “Dad told me Marlowe likes this dog park. Someone had to walk him after what happened last night.”
Liam’s expression turned sympathetic. “Your dad and Marlowe come here pretty often. But there’s another dog park just three blocks from you, in case you can’t make it here.”
“That’s good to know. Will make my life easier until Dad comes home. Thanks, Liam.”
Of course, I knew all about the other dog park. Coming here was strategic since there was a better chance of running into Liam. He was the reason Marlowe and I had made the long trek this morning, instead of going to one of the closest dog parks. I figured it was a good pretext to catch Luce della Vita’s bartender outside of work.
I glanced over at Liam’s husky still watching Marlowe from the sidelines. “So I take it our dogs aren’t friends?”
He shrugged. “They are. Julep is just bashful. He takes his time before approaching other dogs. He’s been that way since he was a puppy. I got him at the pound, and the vet thinks he was traumatized by something that happened there.”
“Wait. Julep?” I narrowed my eyes at Liam’s orange t-shirt with a picture of a martini with olives on his chest. “As in, a Mint Julep? A bartender naming his dog after a drink. How original.”
Liam cocked his head at me. “How do you know it doesn't have another meaning? You're into literature, right? A Mint Julep could be a reference to The Great Gatsby.”
“Is it?”
“Well... no.” He scratched his ear. “But someone with a dog named Marlowe shouldn’t be rolling her eyes. A literati naming her dog after a literary character. Doesn’t get more original than that.”
“Hey!” I laughed. “I had nothing to do with naming Marlowe. That one's on Dad. Mom wanted to name him Basket, after Gertrude Stein's Poodle, but Dad won the coin toss. I have to admit, though, I think the name Marlowe suits him.”
We paused and watched as out on the lawn, Marlowe succeeded in catching his tall friend and made an unsuccessful attempt to bite his ear.
“Anyway,” I said. “I guess I’m stuck being the dog walker until this whole horrible mess with Dad gets sorted out.”
“I’m sorry,” Liam said. “Still can’t believe what happened last night. For the record, I don’t think your Dad killed Sonny over a book.”
“Thank you.” I gave him a grateful smile. “I just hope the police come to the same conclusion. If only they would find the real murderer. I mean, who could be capable of doing something like that?”
I decided not to mention Angela as a possible new suspect. When hunting for information, it was better to pretend to know less and let the other person reveal his cards.
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know who’s capable of it, but if I were the police, I’d double-check where Kim was at the time of the murder.”
“Kim? Why would you say that?”
The thought of Sonny’s daughter having anything to do with the murder hadn’t even occurred to me. Had I been taken in by Kim's apparent closeness with Sonny? It would be an unforgivable gullibility for a sleuth. If I were to help solve this murder, I’d have to be more vigilant in the future and not be dazzled by appearances.
“I know Kim was all chummy with him at the wedding,” Liam said. “But things weren’t always so great. I heard her screaming bloody murder at Sonny just a few days ago.”
“Where? At the restaurant?”
“Yeah, in the cellar. It was like a week ago. I went down there to get a bottle of wine for a customer, and I heard her and Sonny having an argument. I felt weird barging in on them, so I left. Had to tell the customer we were out of that vintage. Lost the bar a couple hundred that night. I mean, people who have family problems should take that stuff home and not air it out in the place of business. Yeah?”
“Sure.” I nodded. Anything to keep him talking. “Did you hear what they were fighting about?”
“Just a few words.” He ran a hand through his longish hair. “Like I said, I didn't want to eavesdrop. But I guess she was unhappy with Sonny over something, and I think it had to do with money. She kept screaming he was a control freak, that he couldn’t do it to her, and that she wouldn’t let him. And he told her it was his money and he damn well could do whatever he thought was necessary.”
I frowned. “Sounds serious. Wish I knew what it was all about.” Maybe Will could find out, though. I made a mental note to tell him about it before going to work.
Work!
I looked at the time. “Oh, no. Liam, I have to run, I’m sorry. Kathy’s expecting me at the Bakery in less than an hour.”
Out on the lawn, Marlowe and the black poodle hadn't tired of chasing each other yet and actually looked like they were just warming up. As Liam predicted, Julep had joined in and was being as rowdy as the other two. It was a pity having to cut their fun short, but if I didn’t hurry I’d be hearing about it from Kathy. Or worse, from Jeff. And I still needed to make a phone call.
“Marlowe!” I patted my leg, hoping it wouldn’t take too much work to tear my dog away from the fun. To my relief, Marlowe stopped abruptly in mid-chase and obediently trotted over, though he looked none too excited about having to leave.
“Sorry, pal.” I put the leash on him again. “Some of us do have to work for a living.” Then I straightened and smiled at Liam. “I guess we’ll be off now. Thanks for the chat, and for the company.”
“Right on.” He suddenly put an arm on the small of my back and kissed me on the cheek. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
I hid my surprise behind a bright smile. Not that the attention of a good looking bartender who liked dogs and had a sense of humor was completely unwelcome. Until today, the extent of my interactions with Liam had mostly been limited to exchanging ‘hello’s’ and other small pleasantries. This was a first, and it didn’t seem like mere friendly sympathy. At least, I thought it didn’t. I may have been good at analyzing complex literary themes, but when it came to dating and picking up cues from men, I wasn’t exactly a genius.
But at the moment, it didn't matter whether Liam was flirting with me. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that Sonny and his daughter had had a heated argument about money a week before his death.
The sun was beginning to heat the sidewalks as Marlowe and I hurried home. I got my phone out of my pocket and dialed my brother
. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, sis. Is this urgent?” He sounded brusque.
“Sorry. Did I get you at a bad time?”
“No.” Will exhaled loudly. “I just got mauled by a puma.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What?”
“I just left Angela’s house.”
“Oh. You went to talk to her about what Dad said last night?”
“Yeah.”
That sure explained his grumpiness.
“Can’t imagine it being a pleasant conversation.”
“They never are.” He cleared his throat. “But it’s fine. I'll live.”
I lowered my voice. “Can you tell me what she said?”
“Sure. It’s not confidential. I’m officially off the case, remember? Anyone I talk to about this is strictly on a personal basis.”
“Good. So, what happened? What did you find out?”
“Angela says she spent a night at Sonny’s house about a month ago,” Will said. “David was out of town, and Lauren was visiting her parents. Angela was drunk, but she claims nothing happened with her and Sonny. Says she told David, and he was cool with it.”
“Really.” I raised a meaningful eyebrow at Marlowe, and he gave a low huff as though agreeing with my skepticism.
“I know.” Will chuckled, but his laugh sounded strained. I frowned.
“There was something else, wasn’t there?”
It took him a moment to answer. “She said I had some nerve questioning her when the police already have their killer,” he said.
“What?” My voice rang out shrill, startling Marlowe.
“Don't take it personally,” Will reminded me. “This is a murder investigation. People are going to get scared and super defensive. Besides, it's Angela. You know how she is.”
That was true. I'd seen Angela angry before and could easily picture her yelling at my brother. Her eyes must've been popping out of their orbits.
“What else did she say?” I asked, laboring to sound calm.
