I laughed and crossed my heart. But it was interesting that he’d called Blade charming. “Was there anything specific that happened that would make him file an IG complaint?”
“It didn’t take long for Colonel Diaz to find out what Blade was saying about the women troops. She shut him down, publicly in front of the whole squadron. Told him his behavior was unacceptable and made him apologize. To the group not just the individuals.”
“When did all of this happen?” I asked.
“About six months ago. Blade went along with it. Gave the most insincere apology I’d ever heard. But I watched him when he sat back down. The man wasn’t happy. He had it in for her.”
“Did she know?”
“She’s not stupid.”
“Do you think Michelle could have killed him?” I wanted to make sure Rooney was as loyal as Michelle thought. That she had at least some people in her squadron who had her back.
“Was she capable? Yes. Would she do it? Maybe in self-defense, but otherwise she’d use the chain of command.”
“Thanks for meeting with me.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
“Sarah.”
He just grinned at me. I’d never be Sarah to him. But that wasn’t my biggest worry. Michelle knew the chain of command, in this case the colonel above her, wasn’t going to support her. If her commander didn’t have her back, who would? Rooney wasn’t convinced that Blade had filed the complaint. Maybe I needed to focus on the other men who were with Blade at the bar that night, too.
* * *
I pulled up in front of the ranch house where Luke lived at 2:30. It had green siding and a large picture window where the old woman he rented from often sat. Luke lived in the basement apartment. A large maple flamed orange in the front yard. The afternoon was warm. The blue sky dazzled. I could see the tall white spire of a church pointing upward in the distance. Its bells chimed on the hour. Fall in New England was hard to beat. I had brought the leftover roast beef sandwich with me. I waved toward the picture window as I walked to a side entrance and knocked. Luke yelled, “Come in.”
I stepped into the small foyer. There was a plain white door to the left that led to the owner’s apartment, but I trotted down the steps into Luke’s living room. It was paneled in knotty pine wood, had old avocado shag carpeting and tiny windows that let little light in.
Luke came out of the kitchen. I held up a bag with the roast beef sandwich from DiNapoli’s.
“Hey, Luke, do you want—” I stopped abruptly when Michelle walked out of Luke’s bedroom, buttoning up the jacket of her uniform.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Oh boy. I remembered what Michelle said about not minding sleeping on Luke’s couch if he offered it. But from the looks on their rosy faces, I was pretty sure that wasn’t where she was sleeping. I couldn’t have popped over at a worse time. “You two aren’t seeing each other, are you?” I asked.
Luke looked to Michelle. Always the gentleman.
“Sort of,” Michelle said, smiling over at Luke.
“This is a terrible idea,” I said. “He’s a reporter. You’re a suspect. He”—I jabbed a finger at Luke—“thinks you’re a source.” Under different circumstances I might not feel this way. I wouldn’t feel this way. Under different circumstances I’d be happy for them.
I flung myself down on a low-slung couch with a nubby fabric. It looked like it had been here as long as the house had, which was probably sometime in the fifties. I set the bag with the sandwich on the floor along with my purse.
Luke walked over and stood by Michelle. “She’s not a source.”
“Then what do you two talk about?” I asked.
They grinned at each other.
“We haven’t done all that much talking,” Michelle said.
“Oh, ick.” I grabbed a throw pillow, one I’d bought at a garage sale to try to cheer Luke’s apartment up, and held it over my face. Why had I come by now? This was not something you wanted to hear about your younger brother.
Luke pried the throw pillow out of my hands and swatted my arm with it. “Grow up,” he said.
“I have to get back to work,” Michelle said. She picked up her purse and the hat for her uniform off a scratched-up old end table. “I’ll call you when I’m done. See you later, Sarah.”
I waved my hand.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Luke said to Michelle.
He hummed as he trotted back down the stairs. Hummed. Luke wasn’t a hummer. At least he hadn’t been growing up. It’s not that I didn’t want him to be happy or Michelle for that matter. It just seemed like their timing was lousy.
“Luke, Michelle is a murder suspect. Bristow thinks she had an accomplice. Who better than an overprotective boyfriend to kill Blade? This seems dangerous for both of you.”
Luke sat by me and picked up my hand, holding it between his. “No one knows.”
“I know. Your nosy landlady probably knows. How did this happen?”
“I called her after you and I had dinner at DiNapoli’s. She was lonely. I’m lonely. I invited her over for a beer, and we hit it off.”
“You’re lonely?” I had no idea. Maybe I hadn’t been spending enough time with him.
“It’s been a long time since I’d stayed in one place long enough to even have a relationship. One that lasted longer than a week or two.” He let go of my hand.
After Luke had finished his enlistment with the Marines, he’d had a tough time. Done things he shouldn’t have. Ones that he regretted and made amends for. We were still getting to know each other again. From the time I’d married CJ and moved away from Pacific Grove twenty years ago to last spring, Luke and I had only talked on the phone twice. They hadn’t been pleasant conversations. There were still remnants of the hurt he’d caused our family with his disappearing act that lingered even though I had tried to wish them away.
“Besides I didn’t meet her until—”
I cut Luke off. “The night Blade died. That makes it look even worse. Or the police will think you’re lying about that, too.” It sickened me to think of all the ways this could cause trouble for the two of them.
“It’s going to be okay,” Luke said.
It was obvious I wasn’t going to talk any sense into him. I’d have to try Michelle. “Just proceed with caution. Please,” I said.
“Does that mean we have your blessing?” Luke asked with a grin.
I whacked him with the throw pillow.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now what are you doing here anyway?”
“I came to see if you had any updates on the SuiteSwapz burglaries.” I’d been so surprised to see Michelle I almost forgot why I was here.
“Let me get my laptop. Do you want anything to drink?” Luke asked.
“Just some water. I’ll get it.”
“Grab me one, too.”
A few moments later we settled back on the couch.
“What’s in the bag?” Luke asked.
“Are you hungry? I have a roast beef sandwich from DiNapoli’s.”
“Of course I’m hungry.”
I laughed. When Luke was in high school, he could have a snack, eat a meal, and have another snack. I’d envied it back then and I still did now. I went to his even-smaller-than-mine kitchen and put half of the sandwich on a plate and the quarter I hadn’t eaten on another one. I’d brought a bag of chips, took it to the living room, and set it all between us. “I need to find you a coffee table.”
“That would be great,” Luke said. Then he dug into his sandwich.
In between bites he fiddled with his laptop. “I had better luck than I thought I would separating the solved cases from the ones that weren’t,” Luke said.
“My smart little brother.”
“Naw, another reporter I know had been tracking SuiteSwapz robberies and had already done a boatload of research.”
“Smart enough to find out someone had already done the work.” I patted his knee. Luke fired up his la
ptop and brought up a map of the United States. “Take a look at this and tell me what you see.”
Luke turned the computer to me. I studied the map while we ate. “The red dots are unsolved?”
Luke nodded. “And if you click on the red dot, you’ll see the year the burglary occurred.”
I clicked away for a few minutes. “Holy crap.”
“You saw what I did?” Luke asked, leaning forward.
“The biggest clusters are around towns with Air Force bases, not vacation spots like I thought the first time I looked at this. And they happened in clumps of consecutive years. So the same person could be stationed at different bases over the span of their career.”
“Exactly what I thought.”
“So the Greens or Youngs or whoever they actually are might be stationed at Fitch.” I couldn’t believe it. “Someone else must know.”
“Not if the Greens are as clever as they seem to be. They’ve been doing this for almost ten years.”
“I need to tell Pellner about this,” I said. “Will you forward that to me?”
“I kind of hate helping the police,” Luke said.
“Oh, stop being a reporter for just a few minutes. Why can’t you all just get along?” I shook my head. “Besides, you’ll be helping me.”
“In that case, here you go.”
My phone bing ed with the arrival of the file.
We finished our sandwiches in silence. Luke cleaned up.
“I hate to make you leave, but I have to get going. Let me know if you need anything.”
What I needed was answers.
* * *
When I got home, I sent Pellner the map Luke had forwarded to me with a brief explanation of what was going on and our thought process. Then I sent a similar message to Special Agent Bristow. Normally, the OSI wouldn’t deal with a simple burglary, but this looked like a multistate event. Maybe carried out by one person or persons who’d moved multiple times. However, I’d also realized it could be a group of people doing the same thing across the country. I also mentioned to Bristow that he might try to see if the Greens/Youngs were in the military. I wished I had a better picture of them to send him.
I needed to go to Gillganins but didn’t think driving over there and trying to give someone the third degree would work. I had to assume the police had questioned them and told them not to talk to anyone. I’d have to be wilier than that. I checked their events calendar and grimaced. Then I shot off a text to Stella asking her if she wanted to go to karaoke tonight. She’d probably be suspicious because she knew that karaoke wasn’t my favorite thing.
Seconds later the phone rang. Stella.
“Why do you want to go to karaoke?” Stella asked.
“To sing?”
Stella snorted. “Yeah, right. Does this have something to do with the dead guy in your friend’s car or your arrest?”
Darn it all. “Hey, I realize that Awesome probably warned you off this, but I need to talk to the bartenders. I figured a few drinks and some good tips might soften them up. But I totally get that you don’t want to go.”
“Who said I didn’t want to go? Of course I’m in. I just wanted advance warning of what I was getting myself into.” I heard something thud in the background. “I’ve got to run,” Stella said. “I think some of the backdrops for Phantom set just fell over. That’s great.”
“It’s great that the backdrop fell over? Or great that you’re going to see me?”
“Both. But if the backdrop fell over things are starting to go wrong. Which is good. See you tonight.”
She hung up before I had a chance to say anything. I smiled at the phone. It had been a lucky day when I found this apartment and Stella. My phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.
“Sarah, this is Becky Cane. Do you have a minute?”
Becky’s voice was brisk as always. “Sure. What’s up?” Becky and I didn’t talk that often. In fact it had been several months. Becky sniffed and then cleared her throat.
“You always seem so sensible, and I need your advice.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised. “Okay.” I drew the word okay out so long I almost sounded Southern. And I definitely sounded hesitant.
“People are spreading terrible rumors about me. They are saying that I let Erin Imhoff do all of the work on the charity auction, kicked her off the committee, and then took credit for everything. It’s just not true.”
I didn’t want to get in the middle of this. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I also didn’t want her to know I’d already heard the story.
“What happened is Erin said she’d take charge and then she completely dropped the ball. I knew she had some family issues, but if she’d just come to me we would have worked around it. Instead she did nothing and I had to scramble like I’ve never scrambled before to save the event.”
“That’s not good.” I hoped that was neutral enough.
“I kept her name in the program as a committee member. Made sure she knew she was still welcome. But she somehow blamed me.”
I couldn’t decide if this was a load of bologna or if she was telling the truth. That just didn’t sound like Erin unless she’d become completely depressed. I didn’t want what I’d heard at the thrift shop to color my opinion too much. “I’m so sorry to hear this.” And I was in more ways than Becky could possibly know.
“What do you think I should do?” Becky asked.
“Stand up for yourself.” If Becky was telling the truth, it was good advice. And if not?
It couldn’t hurt to air things out.
“It’s just that everyone loves Erin so much. She’s sweet and warm.” Becky’s voice cracked. It sounded like she was ready to cry. “I realize I come off as aloof. But it’s born of shyness that I’ve tried to overcome. I’d rather stay home and read than go to all the functions I have to. I do my best.”
Wow, that was a shocker to me. Maybe I’d rushed to judgment with Becky, too. It was true that a lot was expected of a military spouse, especially when their partner was in a leadership position. “Maybe you should let people see that vulnerable side of you once in a while. And maybe you should try to talk to Erin.”
“Do you think I should?” Becky asked.
I wasn’t sure which suggestion she was responding to. Maybe both. “Yes. It wouldn’t hurt.” While I had her on the phone I wanted to ask her what she’d heard about Major Blade.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Becky said. “How have you been? I know you’ve had a lot to deal with this past couple of years.”
Way more than I was willing to share. “I’m doing good. Thanks.” I paused. “Did you know Major Blade?” I might as well just say it.
“I knew of him. But of course since his murder, everyone knows who he was.”
“I’ve heard widely varying things about him.” Not quite true, but maybe that would make Becky speak more freely.
“Like I said, I didn’t know him well. But you know who did? Erin Imhoff and her husband. I wouldn’t say this to anyone but you, but there were some stories going around about the three of them.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I shrugged it off because I wanted to hear what she might reveal. “What kind of stories?”
“Sexual improprieties.”
Whoa. That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear, and I had a hard time believing it.
“Really?”
“Yes. But I think it’s nonsense. They were all good friends. That’s all it was. People just like to blow things out of proportion around here when they’re bored.”
“That’s certainly true.”
“Thanks for listening to me. I have to run. Another committee meeting to attend.”
It was nice of Becky to defend Erin after all that had gone on between them. But part of me wondered about Becky’s sincerity. Maybe I needed to arrange to talk to Erin. Since she knew Major Blade, and I hoped not in the biblical sense, maybe Erin would know something that would help Michel
le.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I checked in on my online garage sale business. Things had been running smoothly. But I’d had a worrisome thought. What if someone was using my site to move stolen goods? If they’d set me up in person, why not online, where anonymity was even easier? People had to know someone to join the group, but some people were careless in their recommendations. I had another administrator, and we usually were good at spotting fake accounts. It wouldn’t hurt to do a run-through now, though.
An hour later my eyes hurt from staring at the screen, but I was fairly certain all the members were actual people and not spammers. The stolen goods thing was much harder to figure out. As far as I could tell, things looked legitimate. I checked my email, found the list of cat organizations from Kitty, and sent emails to them about the upcoming Cat-tastic Garage Sale.
After that was done, I tilted my head back against the sofa and closed my eyes for a minute, which turned into a couple of hours. After my nap I did some cleaning and fixed a quick fluffernutter sandwich. The sandwich was perfect for soaking up the alcohol I’d drink later this evening. It also gave me enough of a lift to shower and get ready to go to Gillganins.
* * *
Stella and I took seats at the bar. Almost exactly where Major Blade had stood the other night. If only these barstools could talk. But the two bartenders who’d been working the other night were here, so maybe my plan would work. Peppy Irish jig music played through speakers. The bar was a large rectangle with seating on all four sides. Most of the barstools were already full even though it was only eight thirty. I looked over the crowd hoping I wouldn’t recognize anyone. It would be terrible to find that the police were celebrating a promotion or retirement here. Or if the base police were here for the same reason. I had an agenda tonight and didn’t need any distractions. So far the coast seemed actually clear.
“How was your play practice this afternoon?” I asked Stella.
“Terrible.” She signaled to the bartender.
“That’s great,” I said.
“It is, isn’t it?” Stella said.
“How can I help you ladies?” the bartender asked. He had a pouf of hair that stood three inches high. His smile seemed practiced, like someone who’d been in the hospitality industry a long time.
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