Murder Ink

by Lorraine Bartlett

  As she walked, she realized she had no easy fix for overcoming the pain Andy—and Erikka—had caused her. If she wanted to remain with Andy and foster their relationship, then Katie had to content herself with the fact that she would have to accept Erikka as a part of their lives . . . or, at least, as a part of Andy’s life. Was she okay with that?

  Seeing that she could make no progress with regard to her relationship status with Andy this morning, Katie turned her thoughts to Ken Fenton. Would Detective Schuler ever find the man’s killer? Without Ray having his ear to the ground as he usually did, Katie had no idea what was going on with the investigation. It seemed to her, however, that finding a suspect—other than Ray—was taking an awfully long time.

  After three circuits around the vast parking lot, Katie returned to the apartment to find that Andy was in the same position in which she’d left him. She studied his sleeping face for a moment. He was so good-looking. She resisted the urge to brush the hair off his forehead.

  He must’ve sensed her presence because his eyes fluttered open and he stifled a yawn. “Good morning, Sunshine.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Get back in here.”

  “I can’t. I have to shower. I’ve just returned from my walk and I’m all sweaty.”

  “I could use a shower.” He got out of bed, pulled Katie to him, and nuzzled her neck.

  “Will you wash my hair?” She might still be ticked off at him, but she loved the feel of his big, strong hands massaging her scalp.

  “Anything you want.”

  * * *

  —

  Katie was a teensy bit late arriving at Artisans Alley. She came in through the lobby hoping to find Rose at the cash desk, but it was Vance who stood there greeting the vendors as they filed in and milled around before attending to their assigned tasks.

  Katie went over to speak to him. “Isn’t Rose any better?”

  “Some, I think, but she’s still staying off her feet as much as possible.”

  “I really hope she’ll recover in time to participate in the walkathon.”

  “So do I,” Vance said. “Ida has already informed me that she’s too busy to help out at the registers today, but I can manage just fine.”

  “I need to work in my office for a little while this morning, but I’ll be around if you need me.”

  As she was walking toward her office, she noticed two burly men coming down the stairs with motorcycle saddlebags.

  Hmm . . . Hugh has already made two nice sales this morning. Good for him.

  She stopped in the vendors’ lounge for coffee and a doughnut from a box someone had left in the center of the table. After grabbing a couple of paper towels, she headed into her office and closed the door.

  Her first order of business was to call Harriet Long. She took a bracing swig of her coffee to give herself a shot of courage. Harriet was a sweetheart, but she was lonely, and she could keep you on the phone half the day.

  Fortunately for Katie, Harriet didn’t answer her phone that morning. She was either still asleep or already out. Even more fortunate for Katie, Harriet had an answering machine.

  “Hi, Harriet, it’s Katie Bonner from Artisans Alley. I’ve spoken with my business partner, Margo Bonner, and we definitely want to buy the Tealicious building. I’ve given Margo your number and she’ll be calling you later today about the details, but feel free to call me if you like.” Katie then left her number and ended the call. Hopefully, Margo and Harriet could hammer out all the particulars on their own. She grinned to herself at the thought of her easily exasperated former mother-in-law dealing with Harriet. C’est la vie!

  Before she had a chance to decide what to do next, Katie received a text from Roger with the contact information for John Healy, the contractor. Decision made. Katie called Healy. As she’d pretty much expected, her call went directly to voice mail. Again, she left her contact information, told Healy what she wanted and where she’d gotten his phone number, and said she’d like to speak with him at his earliest convenience.

  She leaned back in her chair and took a bite of the gooey, cream-filled doughnut, pleased that she was making such excellent progress this morning.

  Half an hour later, Katie was still ticking off her to-do list at breakneck speed when Vance called her from the registers.

  “I hate to do this to you,” he said, “but Janey just called and said that sparks shot out of one of the outlets at home. She’s terrified the house will catch fire.”

  “I would be, too! Did she call emergency services?”

  Vance chuckled. “As far as she’s concerned, that’s me. I don’t think it’s that big a deal. I’ll check it out, likely replace the outlet, and be back as quick as I can.”

  Katie couldn’t understand why he wasn’t more concerned, but she supposed he knew what he was doing. She hurried to the cash desk to take over. Her first customer had picked out a pretty earrings-and-necklace set from Rose’s booth.

  “I love the color of your nail polish,” Katie commented as the woman handed her a credit card.

  “I had them done at Envy Day Spa just an hour ago.”

  Katie remembered all the shiny bottles of nail polishes on display at the salon and thought again that she really could use a manicure. As she said good-bye to her customer, Katie resolved to see if anyone could work her in after Vance returned.

  In the hour that Katie manned the cash desk, she rang up two more motorcycle saddlebags. She wondered if there was some sort of biker convention in town or if there was a rally to raise money for some charity. If so, she hadn’t seen anything about it on the news.

  She opened one of the bags for inspection, finding it stuffed with the paper used to wrap more delicate items. Hugh must have scored a pile of it and was using it so that the bags would hold their shape. She’d have to speak to him about providing his own filler.

  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to steal anything,” the burly male customer complained.

  “Sorry. We’re told to look through bags.” He didn’t have to know that it was her rule.

  The man shrugged and handed her a wad of cash.

  As Katie rang up the sale, she thought about the quality of the workmanship Hugh imparted.

  She took out one of the large brown paper bags with handles that they used for large purchases and eased the saddlebags in. “Thanks for shopping at Artisans Alley.”

  The man’s grin sent a shiver up Katie’s spine. “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

  * * *

  —

  Once Vance had returned and pronounced his house in tip-top shape now that the sparking outlet had been replaced, Katie wandered over to Envy Day Spa and Salon. A nail tech named Tana, who was new to the business, had an opening and was able to take Katie. She encouraged Katie to choose her polish and Katie decided on a pale mauve. She sat down across the table from Tana.

  Even though the polish Katie had put on her nails two weeks ago was long gone, Tana cleaned her nails with polish remover.

  As Katie watched Tana work around her cuticles with a damp cotton ball, she asked, “Is there a motorcycle rally going on this weekend? I know it’s only Thursday, but I thought maybe some people were in town early.”

  Tana frowned slightly and moved on to the next finger. “Not that I know of. The Renaissance Festival in Sterling starts this weekend. I think that’ll be a blast. I’m trying to get my boyfriend to take me, but even if he doesn’t, I’m sure one or two of my girlfriends will be up for it. Do you enjoy RenFaires?”

  “I’ve never been to one.” Katie realized her question about motorcyclists had hit a brick wall with the young nail tech, but maybe she could see if Tana had heard anything interesting about Hugh McKinney. “But, you know what? I imagine Mr. McKinney—our new leather goods vendor—might have something suitable for a RenFaire.”

  “Yeah . . . I think I’ll
pass.”

  Although Tana went right on working nonchalantly, she now had Katie’s full attention.

  “Really?” Katie asked. “Why’s that?”

  “When I was a little girl, Mr. McKinney was our mail carrier. He was sorta strange. He’d spend way too much time in our neighborhood delivering the mail. My mom always said that if that man opened the mailboxes as often as he opened his mouth, he’d be the fastest mail carrier in New York.”

  They both laughed.

  “Of course, he wouldn’t be able to spend all his time visiting with people on his route if he carried the mail now,” Tana continued. “These days they use some kind of electronic devices to keep track of where the carriers are at all times. My cousin has a mail route in Greece, and he hates that electronic thingy. He won’t even take a lunch break before he’s finished with his route because he’s afraid he’ll either get in trouble or suffer a pay cut.”

  Which made Katie glad she’d never taken a civil service exam for that job.

  The women made innocuous chitchat for another ten minutes until Tana had finished with Katie’s nails. As Katie paid the woman, she lamented that she hadn’t learned as much as she would have liked about bikers—or Hugh McKinney. But at least she had pretty nails. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  * * *

  —

  Once Katie left the salon, she decided to have a chat with Hugh McKinney. As she approached his booth, she saw an overweight man and a petite woman, both in leathers, perusing the saddlebags on display in Hugh’s booth.

  When the man saw Katie approaching, he cleared his throat and said, “Well, we’re going to look around for a few minutes and think about it, and then we’ll be back.” He took the woman’s arm, nodded at Katie, and the couple walked away.

  “I’m so sorry,” Katie said to Hugh. “I hope I didn’t cost you a sale.”

  “You didn’t. If they’re really interested, they’ll be back.” He smiled. “Did that acupressure trick work on your headache yesterday?”

  “I believe it did. My headache went away soon after I tried it.” Truth be told, Katie didn’t know if the acupressure trick helped or if the pain reliever kicked in, but it didn’t matter. “I treated myself to a manicure earlier today, and Tana from Envy Day Spa said you used to be her family’s mail carrier.”

  “Well, how about that?” He grinned. “If she’s young, I probably delivered her letters to Santa Claus.”

  “She is pretty young,” Katie said. “She’s a good nail tech, though.”

  “Good for her.” He nodded. “I carried the mail for about fifteen years before I finally got a clerk’s job.”

  “Which position did you like better?”

  “Depended on the weather,” he said. “I loved delivering mail during the spring and fall when the temperatures were mild and the days were sunny. I preferred being a clerk when it was sweltering, storming, or freezing cold.”

  Katie put out her hand and gently ran her fingertips over the saddlebag Hugh had been showing the couple who’d walked away. “You do fantastic work.”

  “Thank you.” He promptly took the saddlebag and placed it under the table. “In case they do come back, I don’t want to have sold it to someone else.”

  “That’s a strong possibility today,” she said. “I’ve seen several of these come across the cash desk in the scant time I’ve spent there. Is there a motorcycle convention in town?”

  “No. I give a presentation to area motorcycle clubs once a month and—well, not to brag—but when the bikers see the quality of my work, they start pouring in to buy the bags the very next day.”

  “That’s an excellent marketing tactic,” Katie said. “Would you mind talking to our Merchants Association about using speaking engagements to promote one’s business sometime?”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Before they could make plans for Hugh to speak at the next Merchants Association meeting, Katie’s phone rang. She looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Hugh.

  As she answered the call, she strode toward Chad’s Pad, the small room where she stored her late husband’s art.

  “Ms. Bonner, this is Bill Parsons. I’m Ray Davenport’s attorney. He asked me to give you a call.”

  Katie felt a chill run throughout her body. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Davenport has just been arrested for the murder of Kenneth Fenton.”

  For a moment, Katie’s legs felt weak, but then she put a hand against the wall and straightened. “You’ve . . . you’ve g-got to be k-kidding me. They . . . he . . . there . . . how?”

  “Apparently, new evidence was found at the crime scene,” Parsons said. “I’m not at liberty to say anything more at this time, and I need to get back to my client. He’s being interviewed in a few minutes. However, Mr. Davenport was adamant that you go talk to his daughters.”

  “Me? But I . . . I—”

  “In fact, he’s asked that you stay with them until he’s released.”

  “And when will that be?” Katie asked.

  “Mr. Davenport’s arraignment has been set for tomorrow morning.”

  Katie blew out a breath. That was a pretty tall order, considering the three Davenport girls liked Katie as much as a plate of uncooked liver. But Ray was her friend and she would do what a friend does in such situations: suck it up.

  “Thanks, Mr. Parsons. I’ll do my best. Where will the arraignment take place?”

  Parsons gave her the address in Rochester. “I’ll see you there tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be there,” Katie promised. Wild horses couldn’t keep her away.

  Nineteen

  Katie pressed the “End Call” icon and managed to still her trembling hands long enough to call Vance.

  “Hey, Katie! What’s up?”

  “Could you please come upstairs to Chad’s Pad? Tell Ida you need her to take over, and then just walk away. Don’t give her time to argue.”

  “What—?” He stopped before forming the sentence. “Be right there.”

  Katie knew Vance would realize that if she was barking orders like a drill sergeant, something was very wrong.

  Katie was sitting on the uncomfortable, narrow bed where Chad sometimes slept when Vance came into Chad’s. He stepped in quietly. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “It’s Ray. He’s been arrested for Ken Fenton’s murder.”

  “But that’s ridiculous!”

  “I wish it was, but I got a call from Ray’s attorney. Apparently, he wants me to break the news to his daughters.”

  “Geeze,” Vance said, and ran his hand over his whiskered chin. “How did this happen? What made the deputies decide to make an arrest now?”

  “Mr. Parsons, Ray’s attorney, said the Sheriff’s Office found new evidence at the crime scene.”

  Vance gave a guttural growl. “I was afraid something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect this.”

  “What do you mean?” Katie asked.

  “Ray told me that someone broke into Wood U the other night.”

  “Nobody mentioned that to me.” Not that it was any of her personal business, she supposed. But if someone was breaking into shops in Victoria Square, it was important for the head of the Merchants Association—and its members—to know. “Did Ray report the break-in to the Sheriff’s Office?”

  “He did,” Vance said. “But since it didn’t appear that anything was taken, the police wrote it up as vandalism.”

  “Vandalism?”

  “Yeah, the door had been jimmied.”

  “Hmm.” Katie frowned. “Maybe someone planned to break in but was scared off.”

  “I thought that at first, too. But now that new evidence has suddenly shown up at the crime scene—evidence that was signifi
cant enough to result in Ray’s arrest—I have to wonder if the thief didn’t get exactly what he came for.”

  * * *

  —

  After securing Vance’s vow of secrecy, Katie went straight to Ray’s house. She stepped onto the porch, took a deep breath, and rang the bell.

  Sasha answered the door. “Dad’s not here.”

  Before the girl could close the door in her face, Katie said, “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

  Her face draining of color, Sasha stepped back to allow Katie entrance. “What is it? Where’s Dad?”

  As Sasha’s eyes filled, Katie put a hand on her arm. “He’s fine. Your dad is fine, Sasha. But he wanted me to come and stay with you and your sisters until he gets here.”

  Shaking her head as tears rolled down her cheeks, Sasha yelled, “Where’s my dad?”

  Sadie and Sophie hurried into the room. Sophie put her arms around Sasha and shot Katie a questioning glare.

  “Your dad is fine,” Katie said. “If we could all sit down, I’ll explain everything.”

  Sadie led them into the living room where she, Sophie, and Sasha sat on the sofa. Katie perched on the armchair.

  Katie cleared her throat. “A few minutes ago, I got a call from Bill Parsons, your dad’s attorney.”

  A trio of gasps issued from the couch.

  “Your dad has been arrested for the murder of Ken Fenton.”

  The three girls started talking at once.

  “This is your fault!”

  “Why are you the one telling us this?”

  “Dad absolutely cannot be in jail!”

  Katie held up her hands. “Mr. Parsons said your dad wanted me to stay with the three of you until he can get home.”

  “I’m an adult,” Sophie said, straightening her spine and drawing herself up to make herself as tall as possible. “We’ll be fine with me here watching after my sisters. That is, after we go to the jail and check on Dad.”