Death by Sudoku (8 page)

After that, the interrogators ignored Liza, even to the extent of arguing over the conduct of the case. “We’re wasting time here,” the female cop who’d taken Detective Howard’s place insisted. “There are other leads—”

“Not till Howard finishes the search down the slope,” Vasquez replied.

Liza’s empty stomach lurched at the thought of Jenny Robbins’s broken body lying somewhere far below the terrace.

At last Alvin returned, accompanied by a man Liza found vaguely familiar. “This is Josh Marsh, a driver for SB Taxi,” he announced, then asked the man, “Is your passenger from last night in here?”

Liza hadn’t remembered the driver’s face, but the nasal voice he used in his response was instantly recognizable. “Sure. It’s the lady over there.” He pointed at Liza.

“Do you recall when you picked her up?”

Marsh nodded. “I checked my logbook. It was 9:37, at a fancy place up in the mountains.”

“Was the lady alone when you picked her up?” Alvin asked.

“Nah. A girl opened the door, and a guy came out to wave good-bye while this lady got in my car.”

“Did you recognize the man?”

“Yeah, he was that hot-shi—” The driver glanced over at Liza. “That hotshot actor who used to be on the spy show. My wife is crazy about him. She was all over me this morning when I mentioned it, because I didn’t try to get his autograph.”

The only thing missing from Alvin’s self-satisfied smile was the Elmer Fudd “huh-huh-huh” laugh. “I believe this establishes that everyone in the house was alive and well when my client departed,” he said. “If you have nothing further . . . ?”

“Ms. Kelly, you can go,” Vasquez ground out through gritted teeth.

“But what about—?” Liza began.

Vasquez cut her off. “Go,” he said.

The female detective was more diplomatic. “We have your information and can get in touch with you if needed.”

“My client will make herself available,” Alvin promised.

“Right. Great.” Vasquez made shooing motions. Liza might make herself available, but he obviously wasn’t going to be sitting by the phone.

Alvin hadn’t just spent his time digging up a witness. He’d also gotten Liza a seat on a plane to Portland. “Pretty confident, weren’t you?” she said in his car around a mouthful of corn muffin.

“Reasonably assured.” The lawyer to the stars looked pained at the sight of crumbs on his upholstery, then turned apprehensive eyes to Liza. “You’ll tell Michelle I did my best for you?”

“Of course, Alvin,” she replied, a little mystified. “I promise.”

“Good, good.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and handed Liza her ticket. “I’m afraid you missed the direct flight. This is the next one out.”

A moment later, Liza realized she’d been the victim of a little legal maneuver. Alvin had extracted her promise before she looked at the tickets.

“Santa Barbara to Portland—by way of Phoenix, Arizona? You didn’t accidentally book me for Portland, Maine, did you?”

Unfortunately, Alvin hadn’t. So a journey that should have taken a couple of hours wound up costing Liza six hours and change—and that didn’t count the drive from Portland southwest to Maiden’s Bay.

Liza had tried to fill some of her plane time making notes on Will’s puzzle for her column. Remembering how she’d planned to do this with Derrick left her too heartsick—and tired—to go on. After barely a page of notes, she knocked off with a feeling of frustration. Some of the most basic techniques wouldn’t even work with this puzzle.
Wait a minute. I’ve got the nincompoop’s version—ahem, the entry round version—too
, she thought ruefully.

It had been full dark for almost an hour by the time Liza pulled up in front of her house. She’d gotten some sleep on the various planes, but came out of it disoriented, dehydrated, and just plain frazzled.

“Thank God I made it,” Liza muttered as she slipped her key into the front door lock. It was pulled out of her hand as the door suddenly swung open, revealing a large male figure silhouetted against the living-room lamplight.

Flinging her bag aside, Liza jumped back, bringing her arms up. What do to? Scream or run?

“Liza?” the figure said, stepping aside to pick up her carry-on. “Are you okay?”

Now standing in the light from the door, the menacing form became part of the normal world—or more precisely, ancient history. Kevin Shepard was the guy Liza had gone out with in high school.

“What are
you
doing here?” she asked in astonishment.

“Taking care of the dog,” Kevin replied, a little shame-facedly. “I got a call from Mrs. Halvorsen, sounding as if she was at death’s door. As far as I could make out, her last wish was that I should take care of her neighbor’s dog. It’s only when I got here that I remembered . . . um, realized . . .”

Liza took the bag from his hand, shaking her head.
Sheesh! Everybody is taking advantage of me today!

Besides collecting illnesses and reading scripture, Mrs. H. had one other pastime—matchmaking. Maybe it tied in with that “be fruitful and multiply” line from the Bible.

Confronted with a much longer than expected trip, Liza had phoned her neighbor from the Santa Barbara airport. Mrs. H. had assured her that someone would be over to feed and walk Rusty.
I just didn’t expect my prom date
, Liza thought crossly.

She had to admit, though, that Kevin was looking well. For almost fifteen years, she’d only caught quick, distant glimpses of him during whirlwind visits back home.

Don’t say something stupid
, Liza warned herself as she opened her mouth.

She was saved as a furry, reddish thunderbolt came streaking out the door, a wagging tail at one end and a rattling leash dragging from the other.

“We were going for a walk,” Kevin explained.

Rusty gave a low
woof
of welcome when he saw Liza. But he brought the leash over to Kevin, who apparently had become his new best friend. That was a surprise. Rusty loved being with kids, but he wasn’t fond of larger men—probably the result of some unpleasant incident from his wandering days.

Not, Liza thought, that Kevin was
too
big. He’d been tall and rangy, the school’s second-string football star, when they went out together.
He’s filled out nicely in the years since
, she thought, looking on appreciatively as Kevin bent to put the leash on Rusty.

The reel almost flew out of Kevin’s hand when Rusty ran to the end of its full tether. Obviously, he’d been bursting to get out. Kevin laughed as Rusty trotted around, snuffling for a place to irrigate. “I’ve hooked full-grown salmon that didn’t make the reel spin like that.”

“Are you still in the guide business?” Liza asked. That had been Kevin’s ambition back when—a business that didn’t require college. He’d gone into the army while Liza went off to school, serving in Desert Storm—aka Iraq, Chapter One. Coming home, he’d tried to put his Special Forces training to use in the mountains and rivers. Liza had heard he’d also picked up a wife along the way.

“Not exactly,” Kevin replied. “I ended up reevaluating my life a couple years ago—after the divorce.” His voice got a bit flat. “Took a couple of courses, and I’m managing a place down in Killamook.”

“The preservation capital of the Northwest coast?” Liza said in shock. “I never thought you’d let a town council tell you what color you could paint your shutters.”

Kevin grinned. “The Killamook Inn is outside the town proper. We look properly rustic, and we kick in too much tax money for them to complain much.”

Liza nodded. She’d heard of the Killamook Inn, a resort sufficiently ritzy to consider using for some of Markson Associates’ clients.

Looking off into the darkness, Kevin added, “Of course, I always hear about your exciting life down in Hollywood. I understand you got married.”

“And I moved back here to think that over,” Liza told him.

He glanced over at her, but before he could say anything, a commotion broke out in the shrubbery where Rusty was nosing around. The dog began growling and barking.

“Is anybody out there?” Liza called, suddenly thinking of Hank Lovelorn—
Lonebaugh
, she quickly corrected herself. He had disappeared from the hotel after his humiliation at the tournament. In fact, she still had his handheld sudoku solver, having promised Will that she’d return it to Hank.

Maybe he’d come over to retrieve his doodad and had run out of nerve. Maybe he was debating whether his ego could take an embarrassing meeting right now. Maybe he’d heard about Derrick on the news and come over to talk.

Or maybe
, an unpleasant voice in the back of her head suggested,
he’s out there in the underbrush staring at you like a common, garden-variety stalker.

As Rusty kept barking, a figure emerged from the bushes—a large, shambling figure, built much more solidly than Hank. Liza made a little sound of surprise as she recognized Calvin Burke.

“Hey, Cal,” Kevin said, reeling in the leash as he and Liza walked out to stand by Rusty.

Liza glanced between the two men. Fifteen years ago, they’d often sat in Ma’s Café, enjoying a soda on the house. Cal was the big man on campus, fast as well as big, leading the football team to three regional championships. Scouts from colleges all over the West Coast had flocked to town, and Cal had gone off on a football scholarship, a stepping-stone to the NFL.

That was before he blew out a knee. Under NCAA rules, he wasn’t supposed to lose his scholarship but the athletic department could reduce his aid. And when tuition went up . . . well, that was the end of Cal and college. When Liza came back to her hometown, she found the football hero she’d remembered had become a not-so-proficient handyman, smelling of beer during the day and often falling-down drunk by the end of the night.

This was a bit early, though.

“Ma’s cat got out,” Calvin said, brushing himself off. “I thought I heard her in there.” He looked down and started brushing ineffectually at his pants leg with a tattered piece of tissue.

“Oh God! Rusty didn’t—” Liza rushed up with a bigger wad of tissue. Calvin winced as she pressed it against the damp spot. “The bad leg,” he muttered. “Y’know how people always say you get used to things with age? They fricking lie.”

He gave Kevin the ghost of a smile. “Good to see you again, guy. You and Liza—just like old times, huh?” Wrapping a bit of threadbare dignity around himself, he limped off—somewhat undercutting the effect by pinching at his trouser leg and shaking it.

Rusty had calmed down after Liza and Kevin had joined him. Now he shook himself, making his dog tags rattle, and led them off again.

Maiden’s Bay was not a big town for nightlife. People put in a day’s work and usually spent a couple hours in front of the tube before turning in to get ready for the next day. Definitely Dullsville in the eyes of people from—or aspiring to—a happening town like L.A. Or was it? As she walked with Kevin and Rusty down the quiet streets, Liza found herself enjoying an expatriate’s appreciation of her old hometown—the weathered cedar houses, many of them surrounded by beds of azaleas so thick, the silvery wood structures seemed to be floating on clouds.

“Memorial Day is coming up,” Kevin mentioned as they passed the little traffic circle around the monument to the World War II dead. “I have to order a wreath.”

“I thought the parade was over in Killamook,” Liza said.

“Yeah, they’re turning the place into a small-town theme park to pack the tourists in,” Kevin grumbled. “Every marching band and fire department in the county is expected to turn out. But I get together with a couple of local buddies from the VFW and do a quiet ceremony here.” He glanced at her. “After all, this is still my hometown.”

The business district was already shuttered as they passed through, but Rusty led them across the highway and into the industrial area by the shore, determined to investigate the various interesting smells coming from the harbor. Kevin allowed him to unreel the leash onto the docks from the landward end of the block-long boardwalk.

“I hate seeing Cal like that,” Kevin said quietly. “I guess you missed most of it, being away in school and then going off to Japan.”

“When Dad died, Mom wanted me to go over there and see her side of the family,” Liza said. “It was kind of a shock when Mom passed away and I came back up here. You know, everyone calls him Calvin now.”

“I know,” Kevin said. “I was away in the army when it all happened. Maybe if I had been here, Cal wouldn’t have had such a crash landing.”

He turned guilty eyes to Liza. “It’s one of the reasons I don’t come in to Maiden’s Bay much anymore.” He paused. “That, and hearing that you’d come back to town. It’s not all that far to Killamook, and the town council hasn’t yet legislated the small-town grapevine out of existence.”

“It is very traditional,” Liza murmured. Rusty had finished sniffing around and began leading them home.

“Anyway, when Mrs. H. called, I drove over,” Kevin said. “She was a friend of my grandmother’s, you know. I just never thought—and now, I guess I’m glad it happened. I don’t think I’d have had the nerve to come poking around otherwise.”

Soon, they were back in front of the house. Liza got out her keys again, and Kevin handed her the leash. She was just about to invite him in for coffee when the phone inside began to ring.

Liza handed back the leash. “Would you mind holding on for a minute?” After being buzzed twice by Michelle on the trip home—and not accepting the calls—Liza had finally turned off her cell phone.
Guess now I’ll have to face the music
, she thought.

Hurrying inside, she crossed the little living room to the kitchen, where she caught the phone on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end wasn’t female, though. “Are you all right? It’s Michael.”

Liza stared at the phone, caught by surprise. At her hesitation, the voice went from worried to acid. “You remember—the guy you married?”