Angora Alibi (21 page)

Tyler listened carefully. Finally he nodded.

“Did Justin give you any idea where he got the stuff?” Cass said.

He looked down at the floor as he sorted through his thoughts. “It was . . . it just
didn’t seem important. He said it was easy, no need to worry about where. He said
something weird. He said the stuff was ‘organic.’ But the thing is, he got it, and
we bought it. But he did tell me. . . .”

The noise from the lower level settled down. On the roof the sound of returning gulls
mingled with conversations.

“Tell you what?” Cass asked.

“That it was over.”

“What was over?” Nell asked.

“The whole thing. Everything. He came by the bar when I was working that night—the
night before he died—and he told me that the pickup that night would be the last.
He was pretty dramatic about it, like I might be upset, but the only reason we even
played his game was that he made it so easy for us—he was like a salesman, giving
us a deal. But this was it, he said. The end of the road.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Finally Izzy asked, “Did he say why it was the last
time?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, he did. He said he had bigger fish to fry—and the fire was hot.”

T
h
e appearance of a waitress had given Tyler an out, but instead of disappearing, he
prudently suggested he leave them alone to enjoy their sandwiches, then excused himself.

They’d all laughed a little, just to ease his discomfort, and Birdie suggested he
go home and get some sleep; he looked exhausted.

“Do you believe him?” Izzy asked as he disappeared below.

“Which part?” Cass asked.

“That it was all over anyway, and Justin had bigger plans. What did he say? Bigger
fish to fry?”

“Maybe he was desperate to change the subject and move the emphasis from what was
happening at the beach to something that didn’t involve him,” Nell said. “We’d have
absolutely no way of knowing if it was true.”

“A possibility.” Birdie swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Do we believe him? Yes, we
need to start with that question. Was Tyler just protecting Tyler? Or was he telling
the truth?”

They all liked him, which made answering the question more difficult. And his grandmother
was a friend.

Finally Izzy answered her own question. “I do. I believe him. I think he was so scared
he wasn’t thinking clearly. Someone who would be that afraid of the four of us couldn’t
possibly kill anyone. Right?”

“Besides, what motive would he have?” Cass asked.

“That’s true—it’s hard to come up with one. But that’s only true if you believe him,”
Nell said. “If you don’t, if he’s lying about the friendly way he and Justin parted
company, about the last deal being fair and square, then there might be a motive.”

“What would it be?” Izzy asked.

“I think any time you’re dealing with money in this way, you’re at risk. Tyler was
taking money from the women, then dealing with Justin—he was right in the middle.
Maybe somehow Justin was cheating all of them—giving them something inferior, and
he had put Tyler right in the middle of it.”

“So he got back at him by murdering him?” Birdie said. “Why wouldn’t he simply find
Justin and demand the money back?”

That thought silenced everyone for a short while, though as they all knew, motives
for murder didn’t always lend themselves readily to reason.

Finally Nell said, “Perhaps he was concerned that Justin would threaten to tell everyone
what was going on. Ty couldn’t bear the thought of Esther knowing.” But it was a flimsy
motive, they all agreed.

The night had turned chilly and Izzy shivered, pulling her loose-knit hoodie tightly
around her. “He must be regretting the day he met Justin. I think Janie reached that
point, too.”

“We’re skirting the most interesting thing Tyler said,” Birdie took a sip of water
and continued. “He said
Justin had bigger fish to fry
.”

Nell nodded. She pushed the basket of calamari toward Izzy. “I agree. And I agree
with Izzy. I don’t think Ty made any of it up. It doesn’t make sense for him to do
that. And I can hear Justin saying those exact words.
He had bigger fish to fry
.”

“If he was beginning to make money somewhere else—
more
money—it would explain some things,” Birdie said. She picked up the pitcher Andy
had left on the table, and filled everyone’s glasses. “He’d been spending a lot of
money in the few days right before his death. Money, according to Janie, that he couldn’t
possibly have earned legitimately. A complete set of original stoneware, for example,
that cost him hundreds of dollars. And a hefty donation to a charity. From what Tyler
said, that wasn’t the kind of money that changed hands via the baby seat. Tens and
twenties, he said.”

“Jane said he paid for the pottery with one-hundred-dollar bills.”

“Don’t forget the motorcycle he showed up on the night before he died,” Nell said.
“You’re absolutely right, Birdie. He wasn’t getting that kind of money from the kids
on the beach—and we know now he didn’t get it from your necklace.”

“As big and gaudy as the piece of jewelry was, it wasn’t worth the kind of money Justin
was spending.”

“Suppose the person supplying him was moving on to something else? Some activity that
was bringing in more money. It seems to go back again to the great unknown, the mysterious
person in Justin’s life. Someone he knew. Talked to. Met with.”

“Conspired with.”

Their minds immediately went to work dissecting the town, the neighborhood, the artists’
colony, searching for someone they’d seen Justin with, someone who might have facilitated
the whole awful mess . . . someone who might have killed him.

But every single person who came to mind was someone they knew. Janie. Tommy Porter.
Archie Brandley. Lily Virgilio. Dr. Seltzer. And now, rising like hot air to the top
of the pile, there was Tyler Gibson.

But targeting someone they might know—and even like—was a task that soon brought Izzy
to her feet. “It’s time for me to roll on home,” she said, patting her stomach. “Junior
and I can’t think anymore.”

As if on cue, Sam appeared in the doorway. “Came to claim my best girl,” he said.
“Ready, Iz?”

It was time to call it a night, everyone agreed. They stood and made their way single
file down the stairway into the mass of bodies below.

Ben and Danny were waiting at the bottom, heatedly discussing the missed fly ball
to left field, which they quickly tabled when the women appeared. Ben cleared a path
through the crowded bar and out to the sidewalk. The smell of fried fish and fries
diminished with each step.

“A long day?” Ben wrapped an arm around Nell’s shoulder.

She nodded and waved good-bye to the others. “They all seem long right now.”

“Long and muddled,” Ben agreed, turning the key in the ignition. “Murder has a nasty
way of doing that.”

He made a U-turn, then drove north on Harbor Road, his CRV operating on instinct and
heading toward Sandswept Lane. To home, to bed.

As they drove past McClucken’s Hardware Store, Ben slowed down. “Look over there,”
he said.

Nell looked. Sitting on a bench in front of the store was a lone figure. He was leaning
forward, his elbows on his knees, and his hands holding his head as if it would topple
to the ground without support. Tyler Gibson looked as if he had just lost his best
friend.

•   •   •

Ben and Nell slept soundly, and awoke to a day saturated in sunshine.

Perhaps it’s an omen, Birdie said, showing up at the Endicotts’ door for a cup of
coffee. She and Gabby had come over on their bikes, new ones that Birdie had ordered
off the Internet, she said proudly. “They call them city bikes.”

Gabby was in and out, gulping down the glass of orange juice Ben offered her. “Baby
shower planning,” she said. Lots to do. Jane and Willow needed her.

She was gone before Ben had filled three mugs with coffee.

“Now you see her, now you don’t,” Birdie said. “But such energy she leaves in her
wake.”

“You’re loving it, aren’t you?” Nell said. “Every minute of it.”

“I love her. And her spirit. Somehow that makes me see life a little differently.
Gabby doesn’t shy away from anything, whether it’s horrible or joyful. It’s all part
of life’s great tasty soup.”

Nell listened and kept her own thoughts private. Gabby’s spirit was energizing, that
was true, but Birdie wasn’t learning from Gabby. Gabby was absorbing her nonna’s spirit—a
fine tribute to the wise woman who had welcomed the young girl into her life. And
Birdie was simply seeing it reflected in a new, younger light.

Nell slid the cream across the island.

“I think we’re looking in all the wrong places,” Birdie said, moving on to the reason
she had stopped by—that and Ben’s scones, she said.

“We?” Ben took the scones out of the oven and slid them onto a plate. Fresh blueberries
oozed from a tiny slit in the side of a pastry.

Birdie reached over and scooped it up with her finger. “All right, Ben, have it your
way. The police, all of us. A big
we
. But I think this business with Ty and Justin and selling pot to a group of college
kids might be a distraction.”

“From what?” Ben asked, but Nell knew where Birdie was going. The same thoughts had
accompanied her early-morning shower.

“Well, that’s what we need to find out. But let’s start with the money. Justin had
a lot of money that last week or so, and from what Tyler said, it didn’t come from
him and his girlfriends. So whoever Justin was working with must have provided him
with a bigger, more lucrative opportunity. And one that must have allowed more chances
for him to mess it up. . . .”

“And get himself murdered.” Ben handed them each a fork and a plate with a flaky scone
and a dollop of Greek yogurt on top.

“Yes,” Birdie said. “Exactly. And from what we’re hearing lately, Horace Stevenson
didn’t always mind his own business. He and Red knew everything that went on down
at Paley’s Cove.”

“Which could be what got him killed.”

“Of course there’s a big unknown here. Two, actually,” Birdie admitted. She cut into
the scone and smiled her thanks to Ben. “You do make good scones—definitely not one
of the unknowns.”

“The two unknowns, then,” Ben said, helping himself to the last scone.

“Number one,
what
is this more lucrative project that lured away our friend Justin? We know it wasn’t
the necklace. And it wasn’t the pot, at least not what was being sold to the kids
on the beach.”

“Which brings us back to the question we always come back to,” Nell finished.

“
Who
,” Birdie said, finishing her scone and putting the plate in the sink.

“Who,” Nell repeated.

“Yes. Who. Now ponder that, my friends, while I take me and my bike down to Gus McClucken’s
to find out what this dive shop is that seems to feature quite prominently in all
this. It’s time we got a little proactive, don’t you think?”

And with that, as was Birdie’s way, she was gone, out the front door with Nell’s “good-bye”
hanging in the air behind her.

A habit, Nell realized with a smile, that young Gabby was mastering quite nicely,
too.

N
ell invi
ted herself to go with Izzy to the Virgilio Clinic later that Wednesday.

She knew Izzy wouldn’t mind; she liked the company, especially when Sam wasn’t available.
And Nell loved the chance to listen to Lily talk about the baby, to watch Izzy’s face
glow. And of course she’d go to the ends of the earth to hear the baby’s heartbeat,
a miraculous moment that seemed to put the entire universe back on its proper orbit—at
least for those few precious seconds.

But today Nell had another reason, although she couldn’t even put it into words. Justin’s
connection to the clinic had been playing at the edges of her mind, as if it were
somehow an important part of this puzzle that would lead them to his killer. It was
Birdie who started her on this track, and perhaps Tyler Gibson—their contention that
maybe they were looking in all the wrong places to find the person who killed Justin
Dorsey. Maybe their concentration on his activity at Paley’s Cove was as transitory
as the sand that was washed away by the tide.

Working for Dr. Lily was the only job Justin hadn’t completely messed up, Janie had
said—even though there were other staff members who hadn’t been completely happy with
him. It seemed an odd job for him to enjoy: not a bustling restaurant where he’d see
friends and meet people, or working down at the docks or on one of the many fishing
boats looking for summer help—things you’d think a young man would enjoy. But a
women’s clinic
of all places. What had engaged him so there?

Jerry Thompson had told Ben they had completely ruled out these murders being random
events. There was no vagrant theory or psychopath theory, not an accidental encounter.
It was purposeful—the mechanical failure on Justin’s regulator and the drug in Horace’s
whiskey. Intentional. Purposeful.

The words had sounded ugly when Ben repeated them. Someone wanted Justin dead. Someone
wanted Horace dead. And it was probably, circumstances told them, the same person.
Justin
did
something. Horace
knew
something. It was a theory that made sense, but left big yawning gaps searching for
answers.

Maybe looking around a place where Justin worked, Nell thought, trying to follow in
his footsteps and mine his thoughts, figuring out what made him tick—maybe those things
would give them a hint of what he had done to get himself murdered.

•   •   •

Izzy picked up Nell in midafternoon and, before she got in the car, announced that
they had an extra companion. Words were hardly necessary, though. Before Nell reached
the car door, a long golden snout in the open back window broke into a canine grin.
Izzy quickly assured her that Red would wait in the car when they got to the medical
office. He had attached himself to Izzy’s Volkswagen—and riding in the backseat with
the window partly open and his nose sticking out was a magnificent treat that Izzy
simply couldn’t deny him.

“You’re spoiling him,” Nell said as they walked into the clinic.

Izzy glanced back at the car. Red was seated comfortably in the backseat, the window
open a crack. “Yes,” she said happily. “I’m getting in practice. Dogs and babies should
be spoiled. I expect you to do your share, too.”

Nell had every intention of doing her share. She followed Izzy through the door.

Janie was on the phone, her back to them, when they walked into the reception area.
But her words were distinct and audible in the empty waiting room.

“I know how difficult this is,” she said. Each word was professional—but softened
with compassion. “Yes, stay on the couch, take it easy—and call us back in an hour
if there isn’t a change, or sooner if you need to.” She listened, nodded as if the
caller could feel her assurance, and then told the unseen person that everything would
be all right.

Nell listened to the tone in her voice, remembering back to a wintery night when Birdie
had slipped and fallen on Harbor Road. Janie had appeared, her voice filled with that
same compassion and caring.

She hung up and turned around, slipping a smile back into place.

Izzy glanced at the phone. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“It will be. Sometimes things don’t work out the way we plan,” she said. “And when
that happens, well, there’s a reason. But it’s difficult just the same—more for some
people than for others. I think this patient will be fine. I’m not so sure about the
father, though.”

Then she changed the subject and her smile grew warmer. “Seeing you two is always
a good thing. It brightens my day.”

“If you need another day brightener, Red is out in the car. If you get a second, he’d
love to see you and lick your hand.”

Janie laughed. “I love Red. He’s amazing, Iz. If you ever need a dog sitter, please
call on me and Purl. In fact, I found the coolest plaid dog bed at a garage sale.
I’m going to wash it and keep it in the apartment for Red’s visits.”

Janie seemed in better shape than the day before, Nell thought, although she admitted
to Izzy earlier that she had had nightmares about baby carriers. But the nurse’s smile
was back, and her voice more confident. A few light lines appeared about her eyes,
ones that spoke to life’s trials. Ones Janie had earned.

They walked through the reception area to the inner offices. Nell paused inside the
door and glanced into the library and records room where she’d seen Justin so diligently
filing that day, humming, happy. As if he had the world at his fingertips. She half
expected to see his head bobbing to the music pumping through his headphones. How
long ago was that? Time was difficult to mark these days. Tuesdays, Saturdays, Thursdays—they
all merged together in a blur. Instead of the days being neatly marked by the weekend,
they were marked by murders, something that turned the calendar into a jumbled maze.

“Is this where Justin worked most of the time?” she asked.

Janie nodded. “Yes and no. There are computers in all the offices and the examining
room around the clinic, and he was great at fixing them. So he kind of wandered around
everywhere, I guess you’d say, much to Dr. Seltzer’s annoyance.”

“He didn’t like Justin much, did he?”

Janie lowered her voice and turned her back to the long hallway leading to the examining
rooms. “No, he hated him. Especially the last month or so. I tried to keep them apart
because even the sight of Justin seemed to upset him.”

“Did Justin feel the same way about him?”

“No. Justin said the doc was ‘a great dude’—his words, not mine.” She covered a sad
laugh and whispered as they walked into the examining room, “Calling Dr. Seltzer a
‘dude’ never seemed quite right—but it was so Justin.”

“Do you know what Dr. Seltzer’s main complaint about Justin was?”

“Where should I start? Mostly he thought Justin nosed into things that were none of
his business. He complained to Dr. Lily about it all the time. He said she was too
trusting, and the way Justin nosed into things was way out of line. He swore he saw
Justin listening outside his office one day when he was talking to a patient, but
Dr. Lily told him Justin was just waiting to get in to fix a computer—and that was
the truth.

“Then the next day he came up with the idea that Justin wasn’t just fixing computers,
he might have been reading personal files, too. Dr. Lily made sure everyone used pass
codes on patient records after that.”

“I know he was upset with Justin that day we were here—and you were, too,” Nell said.

Janie thought back to that day. The same day Justin had unwisely washed Izzy’s windows—or
tried to. The same day he was messing around in the filing room. She nodded at the
recollection. “I was furious with him that day. The thing Dr. Seltzer hated the most
was when Justin would sneak out to smoke. First he’d done it out in the parking lot,
but Dr. Lily said it looked bad for the clinic. Then he discovered the steps to the
widow’s walk and he’d go up there to smoke. The widow’s walk was strictly off-limits
to all of us. Dangerous, even, Dr. Lily said. Not just the smoking itself, but the
railing up there was weak and could break—and no one ever went up there. Until Justin,
of course. And to make it worse, Dr. Seltzer’s apartment is on the second floor, so
Justin had to sneak past the apartment back door to get up there. But somehow he managed
to do it, until Dr. Lily caught him coming down the stairs one day. She was angry
and I think came close to firing him.

“So he promised he wouldn’t do it again, but I know he went up there anyway. It was
that awful smoking habit he had. I hated it. That day you were here was one of those
times I caught him doing it. The door to the stairway was ajar and I could smell the
cigarette smoke on his shirt, so I knew he’d been up there. It was the straw that
broke the camel’s back.”

“Those things don’t seem so awful,” Izzy said, slipping up onto the examining table.
“I mean, for Dr. Seltzer to dislike him as much as he does.”

“No, I guess not. Except it wasn’t Justin’s place to say what the rules were. He just
worked here,” Janie said sadly. She slipped Izzy’s file into the holder on the door,
ushered them into the room, and said she’d be back later.

Dr. Lily’s exam was brief and efficient, and then the three of them took turns listening
through the stethoscope to the heartbeats, the quick and exhilarating thumps indicating,
in Nell’s mind, that baby Perry was a happy baby, eager to meet his mom and dad.

Nell rubbed her goose bumps into submission.

“It won’t be long now, Izzy,” Lily said. “You’ve started to dilate, so it could be
any day. But you just never know about babies. They have minds of their own and can
surprise you—it could be a couple weeks. Some like to stay in there a little longer,
where it’s warm and safe.”

Nell and Izzy looked at each other, reading each other’s thoughts.

Yes, above all, this baby would be kept warm and safe.

The bark that snaked around the corner of the examining room wasn’t loud, but definitely
distinct. The flurry of fur that followed nearly knocked Nell onto the chair. But
it was Izzy whom Red wanted, and Izzy he found.

“Sorry,” Sam said, shamefaced, as he trailed Red into the room. “I had a little extra
time and knew Izzy was here, so I stopped in to hear my baby’s report. Izzy isn’t
always detailed enough for me.” He leaned over Red and kissed Izzy on the top of her
head. “Janie was saying hello to Red through the car window and suggested we bring
him in for a drink—”

“It was hot in the car,” Janie said, reappearing in the doorway. “He needed some hydration.
Dogs are eighty percent water, you know.”

Lily was down on one knee, scratching the dog behind his ears. “He’s a sweet dog.
Horace loved him so. Sweet dog. Sweet man.”

“It’s interesting that in life Horace appeared to be almost a recluse. But in death
we’re finding he had a wide array of friends,” Nell said. “Everyone seems to have
known him.”

Lily laughed. “I love Paley’s Cove. My—Dr. Seltzer and I walk there often. And Horace
was always welcoming, though I do think he considered that sandy stretch his property.
We were a little worried about his eyesight and brought him drops sometimes, even
suggesting surgery. But he’d have none of it. He said he got along fine. And then
he’d prove it by naming a bush or even the kind of sunscreen someone running by was
wearing. He didn’t miss much.”

Nell laughed. “He’ll be missed.”

“Agreed.” The male voice came from the doorway. Martin Seltzer stood there, slightly
stooped but with a smile on his face, his eyes on Red. He was rewarded immediately
by a short bark as Red moved across the room to his side, waiting for a pat.

Nell watched the interaction with a mixture of pleasure and surprise. Red clearly
was fond of both Lily and Martin. She wondered how many other friends he’d made during
his years of walking the beach at Paley’s Cove. His presence seemed to bring life
to Martin Seltzer.

“Goldens are great,” the older doctor said. “Best pets in the world. We had one years
ago.” He looked over at Lily, then back to the dog. “They love you no matter what,
right, Red?”

His eyes were on the dog and his voice was slightly muffled, as if speaking to himself
and the dog, no one else.

Lily watched him with an unusual expression on her face. Then she cleared her throat
and said briskly, “All right, now, back to work, everyone. We’ve a baby to check.”

Martin disappeared and Janie urged Red to follow her down the hall to her office.

Lily closed the door and looked at Sam, somehow knowing that he was the one who would
be peppering her with questions.

Nell sat back in a corner, listening to Sam’s litany of questions and Lily’s patient
responses as she attempted to satisfy the new father’s insatiable quest for information
about all things baby. Sam had embraced the role fully, and was fast becoming an expert
on coaching, breathing techniques, and relaxation methods. Her thoughts turned to
the phone call they’d overheard, a husband who apparently wouldn’t have that experience,
at least not now, not as planned. She presumed it was a miscarriage Janie was dealing
with. A difficult event—but not the end of dreams. She and Ben were certainly testimony
to that.

It wasn’t until Janie rapped on the door and pushed it open that they realized they’d
been there for nearly half an hour.

“Is Red in here?” she asked.

“No,” Izzy said, slipping on her shoes. “He’s not with you?”

“He was sleeping in my office. I left to pick up some things from the dispensary,
and when I came back, he was gone. But no worries, he’s here someplace.” Janie forced
a calmness into her voice. “No one would let him outside, so we know he’s safe.”

She headed down the hall, nearly colliding with Martin, who listened to the concern,
then joined in the search. Several patients, in the office for quick weigh-ins or
to pick up medicine or vitamins, offered reports of hearing Red in one hall or another,
and someone saw a waving golden tail disappearing around a corner. But Red seemed
to have disappeared.