Death Angel (33 page)

After the applause, Kate remained
seated, trying to sort out her thoughts about Garvey. She wondered if she had
been completely mistaken about him. Surrounded by the elegance of the room and
the beautifully dressed people, he appeared quite civilized. At this point she
didn’t know what to think. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she jumped
when someone placed a hand on her shoulder.

“So sorry, darling girl,” Christian
Mayerling said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Please don’t apologize, Chris,” she
said, standing up to kiss his cheek. “I was daydreaming.”

“Well, it’s a definite bonus finding you
here. You look quite lovely.”

Uncomfortable with the compliment, she
changed the subject. “I didn’t know you were involved with the Fine Arts
Council.”

“I’m not. Although occasionally I’ve
come out to one of their benefits.” He nodded toward the dais. “Lisa Garvey and
I are on the board of directors for the Kitchie Home for Boys. She convinced me
I ought to come to this. Now that I’ve had a chance to see you, I’m delighted
that I agreed.”

After chatting with her for a few
minutes, Chris gave her a final kiss, and wandered off. Kate took the opportunity
to check on some of the other guests. The Pickard politicians were out in full
force. Mayor Etzel and his wife were talking to Lisa Garvey. Joseph Garvey had
his back to her, speaking to another group. Kate recognized several people as
her eyes skimmed across the faces until suddenly she was staring at Carl
Leidecker.
 

His presence in such close proximity to
Garvey startled her. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. As the assistant
mayor, Garvey would obviously be acquainted with the chief of police.
 

Watching Carl, Kate doubted if she’d
ever seen him so relaxed. He was laughing at something Garvey had said, his
head thrown back and his eyes crinkled with amusement. He had a nice face when
he wasn’t frowning, she thought.
 

As if her gaze were some sort of magnet,
Carl looked up and she found herself staring into his dark eyes.

He acknowledged her glance with a slight
nod of the head but made no move toward her. His expression was unreadable. He
neither smiled nor frowned. She forced herself to look away.

Mike was easy to spot in a crowd. He was
leaning over the busty redhead in the black dress, his gestures expansive, and
his face alive with warmth.
 

Kate decided to walk around until he was
finished checking out all the available women. She eased her way through the
tables and out into the hall.
 

The air was cooler after the overcrowded
dining room. She headed for the water fountain against the wall. Leaning over,
she took several sips then stepped away from the fountain and collided with a
solid wall of flesh.
 

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to gasp out.

“Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to —”

“Why hello.” Kate stared into the
brick-red face of Ed Bushnell. “Sorry for plowing into you.”

“It was my fault. I’m so . . . so
clumsy,” he stammered.

His face was a mixture of confusion and
embarrassment. Kate was very conscious of his eyes fixed on her bosom. She
could feel the angel necklace rising and falling with each breath. She took a
step backward.

“In this case it was my fault, Ed. I
wasn’t looking where I was going.”
 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked.
His eyes were now raised to hers and he blinked owlishly at her.

“No. Please don’t worry. It was a nice
evening, wasn’t it?” She glanced around. “Is Agnes here, too?”

“Yes. She sent me to get the car.”

As if suddenly reminded of an urgent
mission, he whirled around and, without another word, made a dash for the main
entrance. Kate stared after him, wondering if she was the one who made him
nervous or if he was just a very odd man.

“Kate? Over here, dear.”

She turned at the sound of the voice
and, as if she had conjured up the woman, saw Agnes coming out of the dining
room beside Grace Peterman, Kate’s neighbor from across the street.
     
 

“Agnes. Grace. It’s nice to see you,”
she said, smiling at the two women.

“Glad to see you’re getting out
socially.” Grace spoke in her usual staccato fashion.

“Actually this is the first time. I
decided it was a good cause.”

“Everything going all right with you,
dear? Anything I can do?”

“No, Grace. I’m fine. Really I am,” Kate
said, unwilling to get into a discussion of her life. “I’ve been meaning to
call you. I was wondering if you’d share the recipe for that rhubarb coffee
cake you sent over.”

“She brought one for me when I had my
gallbladder out,” Agnes said. “It really is wonderful.”

“Pleased you liked it,” Grace said. “I’d
be delighted to give you the recipe.”

“Great,” Kate said, then turned to
Agnes. “I saw Ed a minute ago. I nearly ran him down at the drinking fountain.”

“Oh dear. I suggested he bring the car
around to the door, and he just up and raced off. I suppose we better get
outside or he’ll start to fuss. He’s such an impatient man.” Agnes shook her
head in exasperation.

Kate gave each of the women a hug and
they bustled out the doors to the main entrance. Despite her words about Ed
being impatient, Kate suspected it was Agnes who kept him in line. That might
explain why Ed had been in such a hurry to get away.

Maybe she was becoming paranoid, seeing
menace in everyone she met. All evening she’d had the sensation she was being
watched.
 

Ever since Jenny’s death, she had been
under scrutiny by friends, the press, the police, and by strangers. She’d
accepted that, even if she hadn’t gotten used to it. Tonight it was different.
It was as if the eyes watching her were unfriendly, even hostile. She shivered.

Returning to the dining room, she
spotted Mike up at the dais. He motioned to let her know he was coming. The
room was emptying out. She headed back to the table to pick up her purse.
 

A man stood beside her chair. He was
half turned away, but she could see that he had one hand inside her white silk
purse. She had just opened her mouth to speak when he raised his head and
stared across the table at her.

It was Joseph Garvey.

“Is this yours?” He closed the purse
with a sharp snap of the clasp. “I was just looking for some ID.”
 

Despite his nonchalant words, it was
obvious he was embarrassed to be caught rummaging inside her purse.
 

“I saw you earlier with Mike,” Garvey
said, his eyes narrowing as he stared across the table that separated them. “I
feel as if I should know you, but I can’t place the connection.”

Kate turned her head, spotting Mike
working his way across the room.

“Speaking of Mike, here he comes,” she
said, ignoring his comment.
 

When Garvey made no attempt to give her
the purse, she moved around the table and extended her hand. He stepped close
to her, his eyes holding hers as he placed the purse in the palm of her hand.

“I’m sorry you have to leave before I’ve
had a chance to talk to you.”

Kate shivered at the invitation in his
words. She was short of breath and could feel perspiration beading her upper
lip. Her suspicions returned in a flood and she shuddered, nearly dropping her
purse in her agitation. She fumbled with it, and Garvey’s hand shot out toward
her. Not wanting him to touch her, she jerked away.

“Steady, Kate.” Mike’s voice penetrated
her panic. “Sorry to tear this lovely lady away, Joseph, but I’ve got early
rounds tomorrow.”

Kate let Mike take charge, nodding as he
steered her toward the door then led her outside, and seated her on the stone
wall that edged the parking lot. She sucked in the warm evening air. The rapid
beat of her heart faded.

“Are you all right?” he asked.
 

“I got a little lightheaded.”

“Tension probably. After obsessing about
Garvey, there you were talking to him.” He shrugged. “No wonder you were
hyperventilating.”

“He frightens me, Mike.”

“Don’t dwell on it. It’s been a long
evening and you’ve got to be tired. How about I get you home?”

Driving home she felt unsettled. She
didn’t know if it was her running into Garvey or just the unfamiliarity of
being out without Richard. She unclasped her purse, but Mike had his keys in
his hand. He unlocked the door, and followed her out to the kitchen.

“Want a drink?” she asked.

“No thanks. I’ve got to be up early.
I’ve got a golf game.”
 

She rolled her eyes and he
chuckled.
 

“Well, it was a nice evening,” she said.
“I hope my behavior didn’t embarrass you. Honestly, Mike, I couldn’t help
myself. I had just decided that my suspicions of Garvey were groundless, when
he got too close to me. Suddenly I got this creepy feeling, and it threw me
into a tailspin.”

Opening her purse, she reached inside to
return the house key to the key rack. The small silk bag was full of odds and
ends. She couldn’t find the key. In exasperation she turned the bag over and
poured everything out on the countertop.
 

Lying between the house key and her
lipstick was a piece of candy. Printed on the distinctive plaid cellophane
wrapper was a single word.
 

ButterSkots.

Twenty-three

B
utter
S
kots
!
 

Kate reached for the brightly wrapped
piece of candy. Even before she touched it, she could smell the overly sweet
butterscotch aroma. She tightened her fingers and the hard round disk pressed
against the palm of her hand. So much had happened that made her question her
own sanity. She needed the tactile sense to be sure she wasn’t imagining the
whole thing.

“What is it, Kate?”

Sensing something wrong, Mike crossed to
her side. Without a word, she held out her hand, opening her fingers so that he
could see the tartan-plaid logo of the candy.

“Good God! Where did you get that?”

“It was in my purse. Someone put it
there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure.”
 

Her lips were stiff, barely able to form
the words. With a shudder of distaste, she dropped the candy back on the
counter.

“When I was getting dressed tonight, I
took the purse out of the closet. There was some loose change inside and I
shook it out before I put anything inside.”

“Can you remember what you did with it
at the dinner?”

“Not really. I had it at the table. I
didn’t take it to the ladies room because I can remember muttering that I
didn’t have my lipstick.”

“So anyone at the dinner could have put
the candy inside,” Mike said. “Only a moment’s work. A simple clasp to open.”

The word clasp triggered the picture in
Kate’s mind. She stopped her pacing and faced Mike.

“Joseph Garvey did it.”

She could see by the wary expression on
Mike’s face he doubted her.

“It’s not just my obsession with Garvey.
I didn’t realize it until now, but I actually saw him do it. When we were
getting ready to leave, I went back to the table to get my purse. Garvey was
holding it. His hand was inside. I literally caught him in the act. He said he
was looking for ID.”

“That doesn’t mean he put it there.”

“Who else,” she snapped. “I’m not
hallucinating, for God’s sake. I talked to him for a minute or two. In fact,
that was why I was upset. Both his conversation and his behavior were strange.”

“How do you mean?”
 

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s hard
to explain. It was just a feeling I got. All I know is that I was uncomfortable
talking to him and had a panicky need to get away. Luckily you arrived and got
me out of there.”

“God, what a mess!” Mike smacked his
hand on the top of the counter, making Kate jump. “I think I’ll take that drink
you offered earlier. Do you want one?”
 

At her nod, he moved to the liquor
cabinet, and Kate got out ice and orange juice. In silence, Mike made her a
screwdriver and then poured vodka into a glass and added ice. He took several
healthy swallows before speaking.

“I know you’ve been saying all along
that something was wrong with Garvey, and I didn’t believe you. I’ve been going
on the assumption that you were reaching for straws. The ButterSkots makes a
difference. If Garvey put the candy in your purse, it looks like he might
—”
 

Mike stopped, almost as if he couldn’t
bring himself to complete the sentence. The words hung in the air between
them.