Gary glanced down at the other end of the bar. “Say, there’s a bowl of pretzels down there. You want some pretzels?”
I frowned. “Not really.”
Gary slid off the stool and surreptitiously closed one eye in a wink. “Sure you do.” Before I could utter a word of protest, he’d ambled off. I watched as he pushed himself in between Mel and another man and reached for the small bowl of pretzels on the edge of the bar. He pulled it quickly toward him, just as Mel started to set down his mug. Bowl collided with mug and both tipped over, spilling pretzels across the bar and onto the floor, and frosty ale right onto Melvin Feller’s lap.
Mel jumped back, dropping his phone. Gary swooped down and caught it before it could hit the floor. The bartender came over with two towels. He handed one to Mel and started wiping up the spilled beer with the other. Gary leaned over and pressed the phone back into Mel’s hand, whispered something to him. The older man waved him off, slid the phone into his pocket, then whipped out his wallet and slammed a bill on the bar. He said something to Gary and then pulled on his jacket and weaved his way toward the exit. Gary watched him for a few minutes before he made his way back to me.
I eyed him as he slid back onto the stool. “That was no accident,” I said.
Gary’s eyes widened. “Shell! Are you saying I bumped into the guy on purpose? What sort of person do you think I am?”
“A klutzy one,” I responded, and Gary’s lips quirked slightly. I fisted my hand and put it on my hip. “So? Just what did that accomplish, besides getting beer splattered on your shirt?”
He chuckled. “Well, for one thing, I heard a bit of his conversation. He was explaining to whoever was on the other end the difference between a straight-edge and a serrated-edge knife.”
My eyes popped. “Oh my God! Are you sure?”
Gary tapped at his ear. “Mine might not be big, but they are in very good working order. I know what I heard. Perhaps your friend Knute’s assessment of him as suspect number one isn’t so far off the mark after all.” He whipped out his iPad. “My memory’s in excellent working order as well. I paid attention to the phone number on the screen when I rescued his phone. All we have to do is a reverse lookup, and we’ll know who he was talking to.”
I gave my former costar an appraising look. “Gary, I never realized how sneaky you were before!”
He shot me a boyish grin. “Stick with me, kid.” He pulled up the reverse lookup site and tapped the number in. A few minutes later he handed me the iPad. “We’re in luck. It’s not unlisted.”
I glanced at the name on the screen and stifled a gasp. The person Mel Feller had been talking to was Londra Lewis.
Seventeen
“That’s amazing,” I said, passing the iPad back to Gary. “Why on earth would he be talking to her about those types of knives?”
“Never mind that,” Gary said, slipping his iPad back into his pocket. “Why would he be talking about knives period?” He paused, frowned, pulled the iPad back out and started tapping at the screen.
Curious, I leaned closer. “What are you looking up now?”
“Tuareg knife. I heard him say that just before I spilled the drink on him.” Gary’s fingers flew across the tiny pad.
“It’s a short dagger kept in a sheath, usually attached to the forearm.” As Gary shot me a look I added, “I remember going to a shop with Aunt Tillie, and there was a huge collection of various knives on display.”
He passed me the iPad. On the screen was a photograph of a nasty-looking dagger with a crooked serrated blade. I glanced at it and a shudder ran through me.
“That’s it, all right.” I nodded. “Look at that blade. Could you imagine being stabbed with that?” I tapped the iPad against my chin. “Makes you wonder, though. Since when is he an expert on this type of dagger? And why would Londra Lewis ask him about it?”
“True. He has no connection to the museum, right?”
“He worked for Garrett Knute and Rita’s husband when they had the accounting firm, and the museum was one of their clients, but Rita said Garrett did their accounting exclusively.”
“Still, he would have known the people who worked there, right?”
“I’m not sure of the timeline of Mazie coming on board, but he probably would have known Londra.” I stifled a gasp. “Could they have planned to murder Amelia together?”
“Whoa, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Gary said. My cell rang just then, and I fished it out of my bag. It was a text from Olivia: Got some info from Gladys! When can we meet?
I glanced up at Gary, who was peering over my shoulder. He sighed. “I know that look. Text her we’ll be there in twenty.” He patted his stomach. “That Reuben’s gonna have to wait.”
• • •
The Niven School of Dance was located on the second floor of a low-slung stone building, not far from the park. The bottom floor was a large crafts store that displayed local artists’ work. The second floor was divided into three units: the dance studio, another that served as a pottery class, and one used for yoga and meditation. We pushed through the door marked Niven School of Dance and found ourselves in a large, mirrored room. Olivia was leaning against the ballet barre that stretched against one wall, doing some exercises. She stopped when she caught sight of us in the mirror and hurried over. “Wow, you got here pretty fast,” she exclaimed.
“We’re anxious to hear your info,” Gary said. He gave his stomach a significant pat. “So much so we skipped dinner.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Olivia protested. “It would have kept.”
Gary rolled his eyes. “Now you tell us.”
I gave him a quick poke in the ribs and turned to Olivia. “Pay him no mind. He gets cranky when his stomach isn’t full.”
Olivia laughed. “Don’t all men? But to tell the truth, I haven’t eaten myself yet. I could go for one of the Captain’s Club’s buffalo chicken salads. They make one that’s to die for.”
“Yeah?” Gary appeared interested. “How are their Reubens?”
“Good, but not as good as the Hairy Lemon’s.”
He shot me a look. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Olivia looked decidedly puzzled so I said quickly, “We were just at the Hairy Lemon, as a matter of fact. We were going to have dinner but we got a bit sidetracked.”
“Shell saw one of her suspects at the bar, so that ended our dinner plans,” Gary supplied. “The guy named Melvin Feller.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Mel was at the Hairy Lemon? Really?”
“Really,” I answered. “And you’ll never guess what Gary heard him talking about!” Without waiting for her to answer, I pushed my lips close to Olivia’s ear. “Knives!”
To my surprise, Olivia started to laugh. “Wow, that seems to be a hot topic of conversation around Fox Hollow. Wait until I tell you what Gladys heard. She said—”
“Ladies, ladies,” Gary interrupted us. “Maybe we could do this over a nice Reuben sandwich, or whatever your food of choice is at this Captain’s Club?” He turned to me and wagged his finger under my nose. “Just so we’re straight, young lady, we are eating first, and not sitting at the bar. No matter whose sister is bartending or who else might be there.”
Olivia grinned and I felt my cheeks grow warm. I floundered for a witty remark, but a stifled “Ha ha” was all I could manage.
Olivia walked over to a small table and snatched up a jacket and tote bag. She shrugged her arms into the jacket, then fished in the tote and pulled out her iPhone. “I’ll text Rita and Ron. Maybe they can join us, and we can all exchange notes.”
“Great idea,” I said, avoiding Gary’s gaze. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find the answer to who killed Amelia tonight.”
Gary rolled his eyes. “Only in the movies,” he muttered.
• • •
Rita was waiting for us in the foyer of the Captain’s Club. “Ron will be along shortly,” she assured us. “Marva’s got a class at the adult school
tonight, so he has to walk the dogs.”
Mollie, the hostess, was the same girl who’d been there on my one and only other visit to the restaurant. Tonight, she had on a brown maxi dress with a matching crochet shrug, and she’d teamed it with a chunky turquoise necklace and bracelet. Her lips glistened with a mocha-colored gloss, and they parted in a wide smile as we approached her podium and her eyes rested on Gary. “Welcome to the Captain’s Club. Table for four?”
“Five, actually. We’re expecting another gentleman shortly,” Olivia said.
“Hm.” She frowned at the sheet on the lectern in front of her, then glanced up and craned her neck at the wide dining area. “All the larger tables are filled right now, but one should open up shortly. Would you like to have a drink at the bar while you wait?”
I glanced quickly over at the bar. I didn’t see Josh, but I recognized Michelle behind the wide counter. She was serving a good-looking guy in a sweatshirt a beer, laughing at something he said.
“Can’t get away from bars tonight, can we?” grumbled Gary in my ear.
I noticed a group of stools at the far end of the bar and motioned toward them. “The bar will be fine,” I said.
Gary reached into his pocket and I saw him press a bill into Mollie’s hand. “Be sure and call us the minute you get a table,” I heard him say right before his stomach let out a loud rumble.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he growled, when we were all settled on stools. Rita positioned herself so that she had a good view of the front entrance, to signal Ron when he arrived.
“Oh, that girl was so taken by your charm she didn’t even notice,” I said with a brisk wave of my hand. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she actually rushes someone along with their food just so we can sit down.”
Gary chuckled and plucked the drink menu up. Michelle came toward us with a smile. “Good evening. What can I get y’all?”
Gary flipped the menu back on the counter and trained a dazzling smile on Michelle. “Vodka with a twist.” He cut me a side glance. “Since I only had a couple of sips from my other one tonight.”
“White wine spritzer for me,” Olivia sang out.
Rita nodded. “Make that two.”
Michelle looked at me. “And for you?”
I really wanted another Hairy Lemon—the little I’d had had been very tasty—but since that wasn’t an option at this bar I decided to just go with the flow. “I’ll have a spritzer too.” I leaned forward and said in a low tone, “Do you know if your brother’s on duty tonight?”
Michelle’s smooth brow furrowed a bit. “Josh? I believe so. Why?”
I leaned back on the stool. “No particular reason. If you should hear from him, could you ask him to please call Shell McMillan?”
Michelle’s eyes widened a bit. “You’re Shell? The girl from the park?” She let out a low chuckle. “I heard you had a run-in with Rocco.”
I laughed. “Sure did. He’s a sweet dog, though.”
“Yep, he’s just a big sloppy bundle of doggy love. Most people get frightened by the pit bull face but you’ll never find a gentler animal.” She cocked her head to one side. “Sue mentioned you visited her shop.”
“I did. It’s very quaint. She has some nice things in there.”
“Yeah, she does. Sue said you’re going to reopen Urban Tails.” Without waiting for an answer she went on, “I know a lot of folks can’t wait. Your aunt gave lots of them personal service with their pets’ needs. They miss that. Sue too. Tillie always kept a stash of Rocco’s favorite liver and bacon treats on hand.”
“I’m hopeful to continue the tradition. Eventually. And I’ll make it a point to order those treats for Rocco.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad about that. Sue too.” Michelle’s eyes twinkled. “She also said you bought that bust of Poe for the store. She’s been trying to unload that for, like, forever.”
“I’m surprised no one else snatched it up. It’s a beautiful piece of sculpture. She said she got it from an art school?”
“Yeah, cool, right? There were three of ’em, in that set, if I’m not mistaken. Shakespeare and someone else, Lincoln maybe? They sold like that.” She snapped her fingers in the air.
“It’s exceptional workmanship.”
“Sure, is, except for—oh, sorry.” Michelle frowned as two older gentlemen signaled to her from the opposite end of the bar. “Two of my regulars. I’ll take care of them and then be right back with your drinks.”
Gary eyed me as Michelle moved off. “Getting in good with the siblings, eh?” he said.
I cut him an eye roll and turned to Olivia and Rita. “Shall we start comparing notes?”
Olivia nodded. “Might as well. Who wants to go first?”
I raised my hand. “I will,” I said. I filled them in on my earlier meeting with Mazie and Londra, and then our encounter with Melvin Feller. When I’d finished, Rita let out a low whistle.
“Wow, that is something. I didn’t realize they’d even found the murder weapon yet.”
“They haven’t,” Olivia cut in. She gave a brief recounting of what she and Gary had overheard Quentin Watson say. “I talked to Gladys Ficke. They have not found the murder weapon yet, but from the shape of the wounds, they’ve narrowed down the type of blade they think might have been used. And top of this list is—”
“A Tuareg knife,” I finished. “Did she mention how her boss acquired that information?”
“She came up with a big fat zero on that,” sighed Olivia. “No one quite knows where Quentin gets his info from, but he’s something like ninety-nine percent accurate.”
“He’s got to have bugs planted all over town,” Rita agreed. “Either that or the guy’s psychic.”
I shot her a wry grin. “Psycho sounds more accurate, actually. And how did you make out, Rita?”
“Well, Garrett seemed very surprised to see me, and even more so when I sat down at his table and started chatting.” She laughed. “We really haven’t spoken all that much since he and Frank dissolved the business, so I just used that as an excuse and segued into Amelia’s murder. He wasn’t all that broken up about it.”
Olivia let out a snort. “Did you think he would be?”
“Heck, no. I tried to get the conversation around to Mel Feller. That took some doing. Finally, I said that I’d seen Mel at the service for Amelia, and I was a bit surprised, since they hadn’t known each other.” She paused. “He just stared me right in the eyes and said, ‘Oh, yeah? Shows how much you know, Rita.’ So then I said, ‘Well, it’s not like he ever did any accounting for her,’ and he said that Mel had, one time when he and Frank were both out, but he put an end to it fast—all he needed was Amelia complaining! Then I mentioned the museum board fiasco and he just snorted and says, ‘You don’t think that she’d ever let him on the board? Not after—’ And then the waitress came over and asked if we wanted anything else, and he looked at his watch and said he had to get going. Picked up the check and left.”
“Oh, too bad,” I cried. “So now we know Mel did do some accounting for Amelia. I wonder if that was for her personally, or for the museum?”
Rita shook her head. “He didn’t say. I can ask Frank, though.”
“I’m more interested in his last comment,” cut in Olivia. “It sounds as if there might have been more to his being rejected from the museum board than just his reputation for gambling.”
“Hey, did I miss anything?”
We all turned as Ron joined our group. We’d been so engrossed in swapping stories that we hadn’t seen him come in. He slid onto the empty stool next to Olivia. “Sounds like you’re talking about Feller.”
“Yep. Garrett intimated to Rita there might be more to that museum board story than meets the eye.”
“Well, sure there was,” Ron said. “You mean you two never heard the rumors?”
Everyone leaned toward Ron. “What rumors?” demanded Olivia. “About Mel and Amelia?”
“No. Mel and Londra.”
I had to grab Olivia’s arm to keep her from falling out of her chair. “You’re kidding. When did those start?”
He waved his hand carelessly. “Oh, awhile back. There was talk of Mel being involved with someone at the museum, and folks spotted him and Londra meeting in out-of-the-way places. No way would Amelia condone something like that, particularly with Londra being in Mazie’s pocket. She figured that Mazie could get to Mel through Londra and there would go her advantage, so—she made damn sure Andy McHardy got in.”
Gary leaned forward. “Do we know why she was so anxious to get McHardy in?”
Ron stretched his long legs out underneath the bar. “Well, Andy’s father had a gardening business and he was pretty sweet on Amelia. I think he even dated her for a while after his wife passed. I guess Amelia always considered Andy family, and I imagine he felt the same way.”
“Ah, so loyalty was behind it.” Gary shook his head. “I think that might eliminate him, then, although one never knows for sure.”
“Oh, I doubt Andy did it,” agreed Olivia. “He got disgusted with her high-handed manner, but deep down he actually cared about her. And Simone didn’t give her much thought one way or the other.”
“We still need more clarification from Garrett, and we need to find out what she had on Larry,” I said.
“Larry’s another odd one to figure out,” Ron said. “As far as I know, he never had any dealings with Amelia save for after he got on the board. Why he always votes for her is a real mystery.”
“Which we should solve, if we expect to find out who did kill Amelia,” I said. I glanced at Ron. “How did you make out with the mayor?”
He chuckled. “I managed to engage one of the admins in a brief conversation when I dropped off the arrangement. She said that Selena’s a handful, but basically a good kid. Now Kyle is another story. Supposedly his mom pulled him out of that fancy school because he has a learning disability. She felt he’d be better off with tutors.”
The Time for Murder Is Meow Page 16
