James nodded.
Darn it. So much for luck. “It seems like someone carefully planned Blade’s murder.”
“Why do you think that?” James asked.
“Because they left his body in Michelle’s car. They must have been watching her for an opportunity. Then they broke into her house and took her keys. Lured Blade to the car. Pretended to be her running.” I almost mentioned the shoes but managed to bite that statement back.
“Or Colonel Diaz did it and it was a crime of passion.”
“She didn’t,” I said.
“Someone killed Major Blade,” James said. “I don’t think it was Colonel Diaz. If that’s true it means a murderer is on the loose. Be careful.”
* * *
As I drove off base toward Gillganins I glanced at my clock. It was five thirty, but it seemed more like midnight. I thought about the runner James had seen on the security footage. Part of this area was wooded. But there were a smattering of apartment and office buildings. I might as well stop and see if I could find anything out, if these places had cameras that might have caught a picture of the runner. Chances were the police had already been by, but maybe I’d get lucky.
At the first office building the stony-faced security guard wouldn’t let me in or answer any questions. I made it into the second building and the security office, but the woman in charge escorted me right back out. I’m guessing someone was going to get a talking-to about letting me in, in the first place.
I drove across the street to an apartment complex. The management office didn’t face the road. But there were security cameras on the street side of the building. A woman who looked to be in her fifties greeted me from behind a desk when I walked in. She had a streak of purple running through her long graying hair. A door was open to an office behind her. I explained what I wanted and why. As I talked she kept glancing behind her toward the open office.
She tilted her head to the office and I stopped. A twentysomething man hustled out of the office. He straightened his tie and looked down his nose at me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was quite tall or he just enjoyed looking down on people. In this moment I wished I was taller than average or at least had on heels instead of flats.
“The police have been here and instructed us not to share any information we may or may not have regarding this case.” He looked at the woman I’d been speaking with. “You knew that and should have told her that immediately.”
“But I wasn’t sure what she wanted when she came in,” the woman protested.
“It became very apparent after the first couple of sentences.”
“But it isn’t polite to cut someone off when they are speaking.”
“We’ve had this discussion before,” the man said. “You need to step it up if you want to succeed here.”
Ugh, I hated bosses who reprimanded employees in front of other people. I’d like to tweak his nose and explain good management techniques.
I looked at the woman. “Thank you.” And good luck, I thought, glancing back at her boss as I left. I was unlocking the door to my Suburban when the woman called out. “Wait.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Excuse me,” she said when she walked over to me. “Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
“And I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“My boss is a jerk, but I live here. Working for him provides a salary and it reduces my rent.”
This area was expensive. I’d been lucky to find my apartment and so understood the need to find a cheap place to live. I smiled at her. “Hey, we all do what we have to.” I thought of my upcoming Cat-tastic Garage Sale.
“I’m Patty Sanchez.” She held out her hand and we shook. “I can’t show you the apartment complex security footage because the police took it. But I have my own security camera and it points toward the street.”
I introduced myself. “You need to give that to the police, too.” I hated saying that but felt obligated.
“I did. But it backs up to my computer, so I still have a copy. If you can wait fifteen minutes, I’ll get a break and I can show it to you.”
“Thanks. Sounds good.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later Patty led me to her apartment. It was on the first floor of the four-story building, and there was a break in the trees that allowed her a glimpse of the road. It wasn’t much but maybe it would provide some hint.
“Someone broke into my apartment a couple of months ago, so I got my own security camera. Plus one of those doorbells that have a motion detector so I can see who’s at the door.”
The apartment was small with few furnishings. There was a gas fireplace on one wall that probably made the place seem homier. We sat at the round dining room table. She powered up her computer, typed in a few things, and swiveled the laptop to me.
“Just hit play,” she said. “The picture quality isn’t great because it’s dark out. And with the porch light on it’s even worse.”
At first there were just the trees and a view of the empty road. A couple of cars went by. Then a runner appeared. I hit pause. Like James said, the person had a build similar to Michelle’s, but it was too blurry to tell who it was. I also couldn’t see the shoes clearly, either.
“You can speed it forward now,” the woman said.
I did and at the forty-five-minute mark the person ran back by, heading toward base.
“Is there any way to enhance this?” I asked.
The woman laughed. “I’m not the CIA, honey. But I can send you the clip. Maybe you know someone that can help out.”
Did I? It didn’t seem like anyone I knew had that great of computer skills. “I’m not sure I know anyone, but please send it anyway.”
The woman clicked a few more buttons and it swooshed away. She stood so I did, too.
“I have to get back to the office,” she said.
“Thank you so much for your help.” I dug around in my purse, found a business card, and handed it to her. “If you think of anything else, please let me know.”
“And if you hear of any decent office jobs, let me know.”
“I will.”
* * *
Even though it had been a long day, I didn’t want to go up to my empty apartment, so I walked over to my friend Carol Carson’s shop, Paint and Wine. Although I usually called it Paint and Whine because I was over there to cry on her shoulder often enough. She had a class going on when I arrived, but from the progress of their paintings and the number of empty wine bottles, it looked like it was almost over.
They were painting what looked like the Old North Bridge in Concord. Some of the paintings were amazing and others looked like the owners had spent more time drinking than painting. That was the fun thing about these classes. There wasn’t any pressure. Carol gave me the once-over as she walked toward me.
“Why don’t you go in the back and pour yourself a glass of wine?” Carol asked. “I’ll be done in a half hour or so.” Carol was tall and even taller with her high-heeled boots on, slender, and her clothes never seemed to have a drop of paint on them. Even when she worked with little kids.
Carol’s store was divided into thirds. The biggest space was the art studio where she taught groups of people to paint. It was full of tables, stools, and small easels. The back third was where Carol painted and stored supplies. I admired her current piece. An almost finished seascape with a Victorian house topped by a widow’s walk. It might be a commissioned piece. She did those sometimes.
I rummaged through her wine and found an open bottle of Mélange from Paradise Springs, a winery in Virginia, according to the label on the bottle. After pouring myself a glass, I settled on a fainting couch and pulled up the news on my phone. There was no new news on the murder of Major Blade. Or if there was no one was sharing it. I refused to Google my own name. If there were stories about my arrest, I didn’t want to read them when I was alone.
I sent
the tape of the person running—I refused to believe it was Michelle—to Luke. Maybe one of his reporter friends would know someone who could work some magic on it and make a face appear. One that wasn’t Michelle’s. As I waited, I put together a plan for tomorrow morning. I was running a yard sale at ten. But it was all set up and ready to go except for pulling a couple of tables out of the garage and putting up a few signs. That would give me a couple of hours to go to garage sales on my own first.
People who threw garage sales usually enjoyed going to them, too. I still had the one slightly fuzzy picture of the Greens. Maybe if I showed the picture around, someone would recognize them. Maybe the garage sale I had run for the Greens wasn’t the first time they’d sold stolen goods. It was a long shot, but my only other clue was the dry-cleaning ticket from their former apartment. And it wasn’t much of a clue at all.
When Carol’s class finished at seven, I helped her clean up. As we worked, she filled me in on her kids, twin boys and a daughter, and her husband, Brad, who worked at the Veterans Administration hospital nearby. I’d met Carol almost twenty years ago around the time I’d met CJ. Brad had been active duty, too, and we’d all been friends ever since. Four years ago both CJ and Brad were stationed here. Carol and Brad liked the area so much when he retired from the military they stayed here.
After all the supplies were put away and tables were free of paint, we went to her back room and poured more wine. Thankfully, I was walking instead of driving. Carol filled a plate with cheese and crackers.
“How are you?” Carol asked after I wolfed down a few crackers.
“Other than hungry?” I brushed some crumbs off my shirt into my hand and carried them over to the trash.
“Sit and tell me what’s going on,” Carol said.
I filled her in on finding Major Blade’s body. “Did you know him?”
Carol took a big swallow of her wine. “He’s a complete creep. We were at a dining out once and he hit on me. I’ve avoided him ever since.”
A dining out was big formal dinner and dance. They were held a few times a year. The military members wore their mess dress, formal uniform, and the civilians wore gowns and tuxes. “I’m sorry. Does Brad know?”
Carol looked down for a moment. “I never told him. He would have killed him.”
We both stared at each other.
“Maybe we have a motive. Major Blade may have messed with the wrong woman,” I said. “Have you ever heard anything else about him?”
“No, but he was one of those guys every woman I know tried to avoid being alone with.”
I’d have to go on base and see what else I could find out. I hadn’t volunteered at the thrift shop for a while. It was actually a pretty good source of gossip now that I couldn’t be a member of the Spouses’ Club and didn’t live on base. We sat quietly sipping our wine for a few minutes.
“With anyone else I’d think that was the only thing bothering them. But with you I get the feeling there’s something else,” Carol said.
I sat on my hands, which suddenly felt cold. “I was arrested.”
“What?” Carol jumped up, came over to sit by me, and put her arms around me. “What happened?”
I sobbed it all out on her shoulder. Frankly, I’m not sure she caught what had happened because my voice was so shaky. I finally quieted. Then I used her bathroom to clean my face up.
“They let me out on my own recognizance,” I said when I came back out.
“Seth must be all over this,” Carol said.
“He can’t be.” I held up a hand when Carol started to protest. “He had to recuse himself. It only makes sense.” Her reaction wasn’t any better than Angelo’s. I put my head in my hands for a minute. “This could mess up his chance of getting reelected.”
“If that’s all he cares about, he’s not worth anything anyway.”
“He came over as soon as he found out. And told me I was more important than the campaign when I was worrying about it in front of him.” Carol had only met Seth a few times and didn’t have a good feel for what he was like yet. Brad and CJ were good friends, and while I wished things were different for now, the four of us hanging out would be awkward. It was just too soon—for all of us.
“I’m glad to hear that. But I bet behind the scenes he’s doing everything he can.”
That made me feel a little bit better. I hoped Carol was right. “In the morning I’m going to hit some garage sales and see if anyone else has run into the Greens.”
“You have a picture of them?”
I nodded.
“Let me see it.”
I took out my phone and swiped through until I found the one picture I had of them. The photo I’d shown to Officer Jones. I took a minute to edit the photo, cropping around their faces as closely as possible. The photo was still pretty blurry. Darn it. I handed the phone to Carol. “Recognize them?”
She studied the photo. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s not a great shot.”
“Yeah. I don’t usually have photos of my clients.” I stood. “Thanks for listening.”
“Why don’t I go with you to the sales in the morning? The kids need new clothes. They always need new clothes.”
“That would be great. I’ll pick you up at six thirty,” I said.
“Ugh. Okay. Six thirty it is.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I met Luke at eight for a late dinner at DiNapoli’s. All that watching Angelo toss pizza dough around at lunch had given me a craving, so I’d convinced Luke to come here. A large white pizza with artichokes, kalamata olives, and red peppers sat between us along with a pitcher of Sam Adams beer. I lifted a piece to put on my plate. Steam puffed off it and strings of cheese tried to keep it attached to the mother ship. But I won in the end.
Luke took a piece. “I don’t think the DiNapolis like me.”
Inwardly, I smiled. They were so loyal to me. I tried to keep it hidden from Luke. “New Englanders are reserved. Suspicious of newcomers. Top that with what happened last spring and they are afraid you’ll hurt me again.” I sprinkled some hot peppers on my pizza. “You’ll win them over. It just might take some time.”
“You are lucky to have such loyal friends.”
“I am. I’m also lucky you moved here. It’s nice to have family close by.” We’d grown up in Pacific Grove, California, the town next to Monterey. Our parents and the rest of our family still lived out there. We munched our pizza for a while.
“How’s Michelle?” Luke asked.
I didn’t know quite what to say. I didn’t want to tell him about the muddy shoes or Michelle’s own concerns about what happened last night. I guess it boiled down to I didn’t quite trust when I was talking to my brother and when I was talking to a reporter.
“Reporter or brother?” I asked.
“Brother. Guy that got in the middle of a murder when helping out his sister and her friend.”
“I’m sorry about that. I should have ordered a car.”
“I’m teasing. I was glad to be there with you.”
“Glad?”
“It gave me a chance to be the overprotective younger brother for once.”
“In that case I’m glad you were there, too.” I rubbed my temples.
“Any thoughts on who killed the guy?” Luke asked.
I filled him in on what Carol had just told me. “What about the men with him the night at the bar? Major Blade was with a colonel, a captain, and two butter bars. They all were drinking a lot. Maybe something happened after we left. I need to get their names from Michelle.” Maybe I should go back to Gillganins and talk to the bartenders. They could have seen something.
“Is there any chance Michelle did it?” Luke asked.
“No. Why are you even asking that?” Luke didn’t even know about the shoes or video of the Michelle-like person running by.
“Just playing devil’s advocate.”
“Don’t. It makes you sound like a reporter not a brother. The good news is she hasn’t been arrested
. Did you get the footage from the security camera I sent you?”
“I did. I gave it to a guy, who knows a guy who supposedly is going to take a look at it.”
“Thank you. It means a lot that you would take the time to do this for me.”
“Who said this was for you? Have you seen your friend Michelle?” Luke asked with a jaunty grin.
I made a face at him. One of the many of the repertoire of faces I’d used on him when we were growing up. This one, part disgust and part disapproval. “Leave her alone. She’s vulnerable right now. Not to mention she’d probably eat you up and spit you out.”
Luke grinned again.
“Stop it,” I warned.
Luke nodded. “What about you? Any word on your situation?”
“Nothing. Yet,” I said. My appetite went away, and I stared down at my piece of pizza.
Luke reached over and covered my hand for a moment. “I didn’t mean to upset you. But I brought some research with me. Maybe between us we can figure something out.”
“What kind of research?”
“I looked into things that had been stolen from SuiteSwapz. But let’s eat this great pizza first.” Luke glanced over to where Angelo was frowning at us from the kitchen. “He’s going to think I’m being mean to you if you don’t eat. Then I’ll never get on his good side.”
I laughed. “Okay. I want them to like you, too. CJ used to worry they were going to spit in his food.”
Luke glanced at the pizza.
I laughed again. “Don’t worry. It’s safe. You’re with me.”
We ate as much as we could. When there were only two pieces left, Luke reached into his backpack and pulled out his laptop. I went around the table and sat beside him. After a few keystrokes he brought up a map of New England. It had little red dots in about fifteen different locations.
“This is all the SuiteSwapzs that have been robbed from the past two years.”
“It’s not that many. And they seemed to be scattered around randomly.” I didn’t add “so not very helpful.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“But?” I asked.
Let's Fake a Deal Page 8
