A Candidate For Murder (Old Maids of Mercer Island Mysteries Book 2) (4 page)

His greeting lacked all the warmth of our date just twelve hours before.

“Go ahead, make my day!” a voice called out from the breakfast room.

Everyone turned to where Captain Ahab, our African gray parrot, was dancing around in his cage. I had purchased Ahab from an estate sale on a whim, not knowing that he came with an extensive vocabulary and a propensity to quote lines from old movies. The detectives ignored his remark.

“Julia, something’s come up,” David said, glancing at the front desk. Crystal, my manager, was working there. He glanced over at Mr. Mulford, who was bent over his work in the breakfast room. “Perhaps we could speak with you alone.”

“By alone, you mean with Doe and Rudy?” I said, gesturing to my friends.

David glanced at the two women and turned to Detective Abrams, who nodded.

“Let’s go into the dining room,” I said, pointing down the hallway.

Mr. Mulford glanced up as we passed by, but went right back to work.

Fortunately, most of our guests were out for the day. Only a young couple was in residence, and they were camped out in the library looking through some of my old books. I slid the door closed and the five of us huddled up next to the dining room table.

“You guys are making me nervous,” I said. “Whose body did you find at the library last night?”

“Body?” Doe exclaimed, her dark eyes flaring.

Detective Abrams’ hooded blue eyes shifted quickly in David’s direction. I wondered if David had told him about our date the night before.

“Do you know Trudy Bascom?” Detective Abrams asked me.

“Not really. I know who she is. She’s Dana Finkle’s campaign assistant. Why?”

“She was found dead last night outside the library,” he said.

“Oh, my God,” I said with a gasp. “How awful. What happened?”

“She was struck in the head, Julia,” David said quietly. “A patrol officer found her when he was checking on the library. He noticed a car in the parking lot.”

“Dear God,” I muttered. “And no one saw anything?”

“No. But we think the patrol officer got there only moments after the killer fled.”

“That parking lot is pretty open,” Rudy said. “He didn’t see anyone running away?”

David shook his head. “No. Remember there was a storm last night. But the blood…well, everything looked fresh. And her body was still warm.”

David glanced at Detective Abrams and then pulled a piece of paper from his inside pocket. His guilty expression had my ears buzzing.

“What?” I said, glancing at the paper.

He handed it to me. “It’s a search warrant. We need to confiscate any computers or electronic devices you have.”

“Why?” Rudy demanded. “What would Julia have to do with Trudy Bascom’s death?”

David leveled his gaze on Rudy. “We just spoke to Dana Finkle, and she said that she and Trudy were at someone’s home last night collecting a campaign contribution.” He turned toward me. “Just before 10:00, Dana received a message from you on her cell phone, asking her to meet you at the library at 10:30. Mrs. Finkle was busy, and so she sent Trudy instead.”

I’m sure my eyes were as round as billiard balls by this time. “But I didn’t send Dana a message. Why would I? I hate the woman.”

David flinched. “Julia, be careful what you say.”

“But I was with
you
,” I declared.

David shifted his weight again. “I know, Julia. We’ve already discussed that,” he said, indicating Detective Abrams. “But we have to follow the lead about the message.”

“Are you here to arrest her?” Doe said. “Because I doubt an email or text message is much evidence.”

“No. Of course not. But it appears that if Julia didn’t send the message, someone is trying to make it look like she did. That’s why we need to take a look at your computers,” he said, turning an apologetic gaze my way. “Along with your cell phone.”

The normally dominant Detective Abrams was unusually quiet. I glanced at him. “So, whoever sent that email meant to kill Dana? Not Trudy.”

“We believe so,” he replied. “And, of course, given the nature of your relationship, Mrs. Finkle is blaming you.”

The fact that someone wanted Dana Finkle dead wasn’t a surprise. Most everyone on the island hated her. Neither was it news that I might now be suspected of murder. Been there – done that.

But I had spent the last several years silently wishing someone would get rid of her. Not necessarily kill her. But having her disappear would have been nice. Now I wasn’t so sure. This didn’t have the feel of good news.

I took a deep breath and twisted my neck to look into Detective Franks’ very handsome, but right now, very serious face. “I’m happy to have you take whatever you want,” I said with a stiff lip. “But I didn’t send her an email, a text message, or any other type of communication. Let’s just get this over with. You guys can stay here,” I said to Doe and Rudy. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I turned on my heel and led them into the breakfast room again. Mr. Mulford looked up.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to finish up later, Mr. Mulford,” I said with a slight toss of my head. “These gentlemen will be taking my computers. I’ll give you a call tomorrow to schedule another time. Meanwhile,” I said, pointing to the paperwork already lying on the table. “Why don’t you take everything else with you?”

“Yes, of course,” he murmured. His eyes darted back and forth between the two detectives. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I nodded and left him to finish up, while I took the two men to the reception desk. Crystal kept her head down, but glanced up with her eyes as we approached. I use a small office tucked behind the desk and under the staircase and gestured towards it.

“You can take my laptop in there. But please be careful. We take all of our registrations on it, and I have several new guests checking in this weekend.”

“Mrs. Applegate,” Detective Abrams started to say. He glanced at Crystal. “We’re just doing our job, you know.”

For all of his youthful machismo, Detective Abrams often seemed timid in my presence.  I wondered if it was because he and my daughter, Angela, were dating, and he felt he had to tread lightly. It couldn’t be my size. After all, I only came up to his chest.

“I understand that, Detective,” I replied. “Remember that I’ve been through all of this before. I just want it over so that I can get back to work. Crystal, can you help Detective Franks unplug everything? You can come with me,” I said to Detective Abrams.

Crystal sidestepped past us into the office, her eyes veiled with apprehension. I turned and started towards my apartment at the far end of the Inn. A familiar voice rang out again behind us.

“Norman, what do you think you’re doing? Don’t touch me! Don’t!” Ahab squawked.

I stopped and turned. Ahab was bobbing back and forth nervously on his perch. I glanced up at Detective Abrams, who was only a few steps behind me.

“You make him nervous,” I said. “He thinks you’re Norman Bates. Stop channeling your inner Alfred Hitchcock and don’t look so intimidating.”

The detective rolled his eyes before following me down the hallway. I used my key to open the door and led him to my personal office. I pointed to my desktop computer.

“While you get that one, I’ll get my other laptop,” I said. “It’s on the table.”

“Wait,” he said. “Technically, I can’t let you do that alone. If you’ll just wait right there, I’ll get this one and then go with you.”

“You don’t trust me? After all we’ve been through?”

“It’s not that. It’s protocol. Please. Just stay there.”

He disappeared into my study, while I remained in the hallway humming to myself. A moment later, he flew back into the hallway, his blue eyes ablaze with alarm.

“Who did that?” he demanded, glaring at me.

I stood still and stared at him. “Did what?”

Detective Franks appeared at the apartment door with the office laptop in his hands. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Someone pinched me,” Detective Abrams said, glancing around as if he thought I had hidden someone in the apartment.

I sighed. “You know the Inn is haunted, don’t you?” They both looked at me with blank stares. “Seriously, it’s haunted,” I said. “That was probably Chloe. She likes to follow me around and play games.” They continued to stare. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said, turning for the kitchen table. “We have ghosts. Get over it. Now, here’s my laptop,” I said, grabbing it and coming back to hand it to Detective Abrams. “And here’s my cell phone.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “Now, I’m going back to the dining room to work on my campaign. Close the door behind you when you leave.”

I rejoined Doe and Rudy in the dining room and slumped into a chair. But it wasn’t until I heard the front door bell jingle and the big SUV’s engine start that I relaxed.

“God help me, Dana Finkle will be the death of me one way or the other,” I said with a frustrated exhale.

“Why? What’s going on now?”

I turned to find the fourth member of our book club, Blair Wentworth, standing in the doorway. She was married to an import car dealer and usually drove up in one of her husband’s sports cars, so I was surprised I hadn’t heard her roar into the parking lot.

“What were Mutt and Jeff doing here?” she asked, referring to the detectives. “Sorry, Julia,” she quickly added, acknowledging my feelings for Detective Franks.

I sighed and stood up. “I need either caffeine or alcohol first. Anyone care to join me?”

I strode past Blair, whose inquisitive, sky blue eyes glanced at Doe and Rudy. The three of them followed me towards the kitchen.

As Blair passed Mr. Mulford, she murmured, “Good morning, Mr. Mulford. You’re looking quite festive with that plaid scarf around your neck.”

Mr. Mulford had just put on his coat and almost tripped over the table leg as he turned to acknowledge Blair. His face flushed, and he nodded three times, like a hen pecking for food.

“Th…thank you, Mrs.…Mrs. Wentworth,” he stuttered. “You’re looking…quite…quite…”

Blair flashed him a brilliant smile and stripped off her coat, exposing a deep blue cashmere sweater, stretched tightly over her breasts. “Oh, Mr. Mulford, I know what you mean,” she said shyly. “Thank you ever so much.”

The poor man’s eyes practically teared-up because he was staring so hard at her chest. At sixty-two, Blair was the youngest of our group. While we all tried to keep fit, Blair actually worked at it. And what she couldn’t accomplish on her own, she paid someone else to accomplish for her. The result was a body that looked like it belonged to an eighteen-year old, or close to it. She knew it and flaunted it whenever possible.

Once she had Mr. Mulford’s undivided attention, she whirled around and waltzed through the kitchen door, which I was holding open for her.

“Perfect example of why I nicknamed you ‘Catnip,’” I said, letting the door swing shut behind her. “You do that on purpose. He might have a weak heart, you know.”

She smiled demurely. “Ah, men will be men at
any
age,” she said proudly, throwing her coat and purse over a hook on the wall. “Now, c’mon, you guys. Don’t keep me in the dark. What’s going on?”

“You may wish you didn’t know,” Rudy said.

“Someone tried to kill Dana Finkle,” I said, going to the refrigerator.

I pulled out a bottle of Diet Pepsi, my caffeine of choice, and then grabbed a large glass out of a cupboard.

“So?” Blair quipped, going for a glass of her own. “Too bad they didn’t succeed.”

I stopped and gave Blair a warning look. “No, Blair. Whoever it was succeeded in killing Trudy Bascom instead.”

Blair stopped with her glass halfway out of the cupboard. “You’ve got to be kidding. Wasn’t that her campaign assistant?” She threw a fearful glance in the direction of Rudy and Doe, who merely nodded to confirm the information. Blair put her glass back, went to the cupboard in the corner and grabbed a wine glass. “Alcohol it is.”

“And what’s more,” Doe said. “They think Julia had something to do with it.”

“What? Why?” Blair asked, turning to me.

I took my glass of Pepsi to the table. Blair crossed to the refrigerator and found an open bottle of white wine. She brought it to the table and poured herself a glass.

“Anyone else?” she said.

“Too early for me,” Rudy said.

The main kitchen at the Inn, though large and functional, often made me feel as if someone had just hugged me, it was that cozy. Distressed white cabinetry framed the room, while a marble-topped center island provided a gathering place in the middle. A butcher-block farmhouse table sat in front of a bank of cottage windows that overlooked the back deck and lake beyond. At the far end of the kitchen was the original arched fireplace we’d filled with artificial flowers. Above that were wooden letters that read, “Let’s Eat.”

Rudy sat down at the table with her back to the window, while Doe went to a cupboard and pulled out a mug. She proceeded to make herself tea. The girls knew the kitchen almost as well as I did, and knew they were welcome to anything I had.

“Someone tried to lure Dana to the library last night by sending her a message from Julia’s email account,” Rudy said.

“Really? Can they do that?” Blair asked.

“Hacking people’s emails is very common,” Rudy replied. “By the way, I suspect they’ll figure that out pretty quickly, Julia.”

“I know,” I said.

I sat with my Pepsi gazing out at the lake. There were puffy gray clouds hanging over the water, with patches of blue sky peeking through. A light breeze flapped the green awning that extended out past the back door. No one was on the lake. It was too cold. But I was thinking of Martha and Ellen, and now Trudy.

“You know, everyone expects to start losing people they know as they get older, but not like this. What happened to cancer, heart disease, or just old age?”

As I stared out the window, a familiar figure crossed in front of it. My business partner, April, came through the back door, dressed in a heavy sweater, turtleneck and loose-fitting jeans. She took one look at me and said, “You’re looking pensive.”

She was carrying a bakery box and still wore her apron. While I handled the antique side of the business, April was our cook and first-class baker. She had her braided hair pulled back in a clip, and wore a little flour on her chin for good measure, which stood out in stark contrast to her ebony skin. She crossed to the counter and pushed the bakery box up against the backsplash.

“Bad news?” she asked, turning toward me. “You’re all looking pretty grim.”

“Did you know Trudy Bascom? The woman who agreed to be Dana’s campaign assistant?” I asked her.

“No. Why?”

“She’s dead. Murdered.”

April glanced from me, to Rudy, to Doe and then to Blair. Blair just held up her glass of wine in a fake toast.

“What happened?” she asked.

I explained what little we knew about the case, while the big grandfather clock by the front door chimed the half hour.

“So, here we go again,” April said, leaning back against the marble-topped island.

“Yep,” Rudy chirped. “The boys just left with every computer Julia has.”

“That had to be awkward,” April said.

“To say the least,” I replied. “So much for dating a police officer.” I took a long drink of Pepsi.

“That’s right. We never even got to hear how it went last night,” Doe said. “How was the date?”

I swallowed, shrugged and sat back in the chair. “Fine, if you consider going from a 007-type, action-packed movie, to a pile-up in the main dining room at the Mercerwood Shore Club, to a dead body at the library as fodder for a romantic date.”

“Pile-up at the Mercerwood Shore Club?” Rudy asked, creasing her brows. “You didn’t trip while you were dancing down the yellow brick road, I hope.”

I glanced at her. Rudy didn’t like it when I found ways to interject my favorite movie into otherwise boring situations, so I was surprised that she had done it herself.

“No. Nothing like that.  There was just a little accident at the restaurant as I got up to go to the ladies’ room.”

Everyone relaxed with a collective, “Ahhh.”

Before I could take umbrage with their reactions, Rudy said. “I take it the date was cut short?”

“You could say that,” I replied. “David got called to the crime scene. And now I’m back under suspicion. I can’t catch a break. Somehow I don’t think it’s going to look good on his personnel record if David is dating someone who keeps getting implicated in murder investigations.”

Doe chuckled. “He’s a big boy.”

“Yeah, but Julia hasn’t had a chance yet to find out
how
big,” Blair said wistfully.

“Blair!” Rudy snapped.

“What I
meant
,” Doe said, shooting Blair a severe look, “was that I think he can handle himself.” She suddenly pointed an accusing finger at Blair. “And don’t even think about making a joke out of that.”

Blair’s eyes glimmered, but she merely took a sip of wine.

“Besides,” Doe continued, “they’ll clear you very quickly, Julia.”

“Well, I refuse to be intimidated this time. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it…even though God knows I’ve thought of killing Dana many times myself.”

April pushed off the counter and turned for the sink. “Don’t let them hear
you
say that.”

“Are you kidding me? Everyone knows I hate her. And don’t forget the little
moment
we had at the Christmas Eve party. Don’t you remember when Dana and I were standing in front of Ahab’s cage, and he shouted out, ‘
I’d like to kill Dana Finkle?
’”

Dana had actually come uninvited to our annual Christmas Eve party, saying that she was there at the request of Mayor Frum, whom she thought would endorse her campaign. When Ahab squawked the threat, she had openly accused me of teaching him how to say it. I hadn’t. But Dana never let facts get in the way of what she believed.

“Let’s face it,” I said. “If the police try to find motive when they’re solving a murder related to Dana Finkle, I’m looking good for it. I just wish I knew who was trying to set me up.”

I glanced over at April, who was putting chocolate chip cookies into an airtight container. She was my best friend and one of the most beautiful women I knew. She had rich, dark skin, big expressive eyes, and hair she liked to wear in corn rows, accented with colorful beads.

She also happened to have a finely tuned sixth sense. She often answered the phone before it rang, told me there was someone at the door before anyone knocked, and sensed the moment someone passed over.

I eyed her now, wondering what she might know. She seemed to recognize the pause floating in the air and turned. We were all staring at her expectantly.

“No,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know anything, but maybe you’ve heard from your mother, Julia.”

She turned back to the counter, but her comment about my mother got everyone’s attention. That would be because my mother was also dead. Since the St. Claire Inn was haunted, and my mother had died there, I had always thought I might see her ghost at some point. But I have to admit that even I was shocked when she contacted me back in December by calling me on her cell phone. It was unnerving to say the least.

“No. I haven’t heard from my mother,” I said. “Maybe she’s finally made it all the way to the other side.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” April said. “By the way, how’s the campaign coming?” she asked, closing up the Tupperware canister.

I shrugged. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blair said. “No one wants Dana to be mayor, anyway.”

“Yes, but now Dana will look sympathetic,” Doe said, bobbing her tea bag in the hot water. “After all, someone just tried to kill her.”

“Maybe she’ll drop out,” Rudy said with a conspiratorial roll of her eyes.

“Maybe someone’s trying to get
me
to drop out, and that’s why they tried to frame me,” I said.

“Oh my!” Blair exclaimed. “Maybe Dana set this whole thing up.”

“Oh, pshaw,” April said with a swish of her hand. “This isn’t a campaign for President of the United States. It’s only mayor of a little town in Washington State. No one could actually believe that Julia
or
Dana would commit murder in order to win.”

“Maybe not, although I’m not sure I’d put it past Dana. And now, she’ll find a way to milk this for everything she can,” I said.

“Who in the world would actually care enough to
kill
Dana Finkle anyway?” April said, coming back to the table with a plate of cookies.

“Everyone!” the four of us said together.

We all looked at each other in surprise and then burst into laughter.

“Okay, it’s not really funny,” I said, trying to straighten out my smile. “Seriously,” I said with a cough. “Trudy was killed by mistake. That’s not a laughing matter.”

That short-circuited the mirth, and the room grew silent.

“Well, I have zucchini bread in the oven, so let me know if you need me for anything,” April said. She put a hand on my shoulder. “And don’t worry, this will all calm down shortly.”

A moment later, she left for the converted old horse barn out back, which we’d turned into a retail bakery and warehouse for our antiques. Rudy reached out and grabbed a cookie, just as we heard the sound of a bell tingling. It was the front door to the Inn opening and closing.

“I wonder who that could be,” I said.

”I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little dog, too!” Ahab squawked loudly from the other room.