A Rendezvous to Die For (33 page)

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Authors: Betty McMahon

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When he scuffled with me in
the coffee shop that night and then found out Eric may have been
blackmailing him in return for writing favorable review of his
proposed building project.”


Which turned out to be true.
How did you find out?”


Intuition,” I said. I wasn’t
going to admit to any law breaking by either Jack or me, not to
anyone. Ever.

Marty chuckled. “You thought
Strothers trashed your studio, too, didn’t you?”


Shows how we can leap to easy
conclusions, when we’re experiencing stress. Now we know it was
Virgil. I had told him about having Rendezvous photos when I saw him
at Jack’s cutting class for young riders. He wanted to see if they
incriminated him, I suppose.”


Well, it’s all water under
the bridge now.” Marty started to rise from the couch and perched
on the edge of a cushion. “Everything came down to that one article
you copied at the library. Think of it. And all because you wanted to
talk with Kathleen’s father about buying her horse. Amazing. You
tracked her down, found the article about her accident, saw that Eric
Hartfield had driven the car, and that Randy and Jim and I were
involved in the same incident. You’re one smart cookie, Cassandra.
Your intuition—or whatever you want to call it—saved a few more
lives. Thank you.” He leaned toward me and planted a kiss on my
cheek.

I glanced at Anna and Nick. Both
were thoroughly involved in the story, both content to simply listen.

Marty arched his eyebrows and
shook a finger at them. “The parking-lot photo unhinged Virgil.
That’s not to say he wasn’t already unhinged. With Strothers
closing in on him, he escalated his scheme, vacated the apartment,
set up a meeting with him in Madison, and after doing his damage
there, returned to get me. He was set on cleaning up all the loose
ends. Anything and anyone connected to Kathleen. He was paying board
for her horse and keeping up the rent on her apartment.”


How did you find out about
that?” I asked, and then kicked myself for opening up that topic.


His landlady called the police
when Virgil canceled the lease after someone broke in one night. He
asked her to clean it out for him and put the place up for lease. She
thought she’d better report it. The police checked it out and put
two and two together,
after
he was incarcerated.”

Anna swept cracker crumbs from
the table. “I heard on the news they found an airline ticket in the
vehicle Virgil was driving. He was planning to leave for France from
the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. No return ticket.”


Yep,”
Marty said, “And they found scratches on his SUV, left in the
garage in Wisconsin, that are likely to prove he’s the one who
tried to push Cassandra into the ditch that day in the storm. I can’t
imagine Virgil was that kind of man. The poor soul lost all
perspective after the tragic death of his daughter. His mind was
affected. I know what that’s like.”

I noticed Marty’s sadness, as
he thought of his own behavior after finding his son and wife
missing, and changed the subject. “Shaw said he’d found a hair at
the scene of Eric’s murder and insinuated it was mine. I wonder if
he really found one, or if it was a ploy to get me to help him solve
the mystery.”

Anna spoke through pinched lips.
“That man would say and do anything to elevate his importance and
career. There was no hair. I don’t believe him.”


Has anyone heard from Jack?”
Marty asked. “I expected him to be here tonight.”


He’s in Minneapolis for
another interview,” I said. “He’s our most famous citizen now.”
Two hours later, we had finished a dinner of pork loin and au gratin
potatoes. We were all talked out. Marty said his goodbyes and Nick
walked me to my Jeep.


Your place or mine?” he
asked, taking my hand.


Yours,” I said. “Last one
there buys breakfast in the morning.”

THE END

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