Flipped Out (9 page)

“I should call the office,” Nina said. Her hand
was
shaking when she reached for her cell phone. “Let them know we’ll have a delay.” She kept talking while she pushed buttons, just as much to herself as to us, I thought. “If this doesn’t get resolved quickly, we may have to abandon the project and go on to the next town. We’re supposed to start shooting in New Hampshire on Monday. Hey, Murray.”

She put the phone to her ear and turned away.

“Abandon the project?” Adam repeated, his expressive face a mask of horror. “We can’t do that!”

Wilson responded, “It’s not unprecedented. We’ve had to do it before, when the delays have been too extensive. I’m sorry for you two”—here he turned to me and included the absent Derek in the apology—“but I’m sure you understand.”

Did I? I mean, Tony was hardly even cold yet, and the crew was already talking about moving on to the next job? Of course, they hadn’t known him like we had—not that I’d known him all that well myself, or liked him a whole lot, if it came to that—but I’ll admit to being a little shocked that they were already making new plans.

But it would be rude to say so, so I didn’t.

“Of course,” I said. “You have to keep to a schedule. We’ll just finish the house on our own time if you have to leave. We’ll get paid whether we’re on TV or not.”

Or—would we? Tony had hired us, and the money for the project was supposed to come from Tony’s pocket. If Tony was dead, would we be able to go on?

But perhaps this wasn’t the right moment to dwell on that possibility. There were bigger issues going on, obviously.

“What did your boyfriend say happened?” Adam asked.

“You heard him, didn’t you?” My eyes flicked, involuntarily, to the open door to the house. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear the murmur of voices, too far away to be able to make out what Derek and Wayne were saying. “He said it looked like Tony had been stabbed with something. And that some of the tools might be missing.”

“A botched robbery?” Adam suggested, stopping just short of rubbing his hands together.

Wilson turned toward him. “What makes you say that?”

“Don’t you remember what what’s-his-name said yesterday? That houses under renovation are like magnets for thieves? Lots of tools and materials, no security.”

Wilson glanced at me. “Is that true?”

“As far as I know, it is. We’ve never had it happen to us, but it makes sense. And Derek’s been doing this job a lot longer than me; he’d know.”

“So do you think this was a robbery gone wrong?” Adam asked. “That Tommy saw someone break in, and maybe he stopped to talk to them, and they killed him?”

“Tony. His name was Tony.” I shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s possible. That’s for the police to figure out, I guess.”

“What are they doing in there?” Adam glanced at the open door.

“I’m sure they’re just looking at things. Derek should be able to give Wayne the preliminary time and cause of death. The ME in Portland will have to confirm it, but it’s something for Wayne to go on with. And they may be compiling a list of the tools that are missing. If any of them turn up in pawnshops or flea markets, the police may be able to track whoever pawned them. The tools won’t be hard to identify; Derek puts his initials on all his tools.”

The sound of a car coming up the street caused me to turn and look, and I felt my stomach drop when I recognized the cream-colored Mercedes. It pulled to the curb in front of Tony’s sports car, and after a second, Melissa got out and looked around.

“Shit,” Adam said, which seemed to sum up the situation admirably. “She won’t be happy.”

I shook my head. No, she wouldn’t be. She’d be shocked and distraught and miserable. Melissa had been just about as unlucky in love as I had; before I met Derek, that is. Her marriage hadn’t worked out, her relationship with Ray Stenham had gone down in flames, and now, just as she’d found Tony and gotten engaged again, her new fiancé was dead. It be enough to push anyone off the deep end. I didn’t like Melissa much, but I felt sorry for her at that moment.

“Hello, everyone!” Melissa bathed us all in her brilliant smile. As usual, she looked fabulous in yet another designer skirt and wedge sandals, with sparkly stones—sapphires?—in her ears. “Hi, Avery. What’s going on? What are the police doing here?”

The smile didn’t waver; I guess maybe she was just expecting me to say that Wayne or his deputy, Brandon Thomas, had stopped by to say hello and meet the television crew.

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling a little guilty about my dislike for her when I knew—and she didn’t—that her fiancé had just met an untimely end. “There’s been an accident.”

“An accident?” She looked at us all standing there on the porch looking at her, and her smile slowly died. She turned back to me. “Derek?”

As if I’d be standing here, as relatively composed as I was, if something had happened to Derek. I shook my head. “He’s fine. It’s not Derek. It’s Tony.”

“Tony?” Her voice was strange. Not surprised at all, almost calm. It was probably denial. Or shock.

“I’m sorry.” I moved to take her arm. “Here. Sit down on the steps.”

But she shook me off. “I want to see him.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—”

“I didn’t ask for your permission, Avery!” She pushed past me and into the house.

“Melissa, wait!” I ran after her.

Derek and Wayne were in the kitchen, Wayne crouched next to Tony’s body while Derek leaned against the kitchen cabinets, arms folded across his chest. When Melissa burst through the door, he made an abortive movement toward us, perhaps trying to forestall her, before he stopped.

She came to a halt just inside the door, as if she’d run into an invisible wall, and let out a gasp of horror. She even lifted a hand—the one with the ring—to her throat, as if she couldn’t breathe. The diamond caught the sunlight coming through the kitchen window and cast it in prisms against the wall.

Not that I could blame Melissa for her dramatic reaction. It was a pretty gruesome sight, even for someone who didn’t particularly like Tony. He was stretched out on the floor, with his head near the door to the utility room and his feet near the door to the dining room. His olive skin had taken on a grayish cast. It also looked like Derek and Wayne must have turned him over to get a better look at his injuries. There was a huge pool of dark blood on the floor next to him, and the entire front of his white shirt was red. It looked as if he’d been stabbed at least a half-dozen times.

“Melissa.” When Derek touched her shoulder, she turned blindly into his arms and buried her head in his shoulder. After a second’s hesitation, he put an arm around her waist and used the other hand to pat her back and shoulder.

I turned to Wayne. “Sorry. She pushed past me before I could stop her.”

He shrugged. “She would have insisted on seeing him anyway, whether we’d been outside when she arrived or not.”

Derek was already guiding Melissa out of the kitchen and toward the front door, and now Wayne nodded to me. “We need to go. I don’t want anyone else to wander in and contaminate the crime scene before Brandon gets here and starts doing the forensic dance.”

“Have you called him?”

“He’s on his way. So is the van from Portland.”

The medical examiner’s van to carry Tony’s body to the morgue.

“Any idea what he was stabbed with?” I hadn’t seen a knife anywhere in the kitchen. I hadn’t seen anything else, for that matter. None of the tools we’d used yesterday.

Wayne shook his head. “We’ll know more when Dr. Lawrence has done her examination. For right now, we’re thinking it might be a screwdriver. Derek says there’s one missing.”

Surely not the battery-powered one, the one I’d used all afternoon yesterday? My stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought, and I fought back a wave of nausea. The smell in the house wasn’t helping: The fresh tang of paint stripper and the sweet smell of sanded wood were now mixed with the metallic scent of blood.

“Let me ask you a question, Avery,” Wayne said, with a cautious look at Derek and Melissa, who were just passing through the front door onto the porch. He grabbed my arm and held me back. “Derek said you weren’t expecting Tony this morning. That the two of you were surprised to see his car parked out front.”

I nodded.

“What about Melissa? Did you know she was coming?”

I glanced up at him, surprised. “You don’t think Melissa killed him, do you?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Wayne said, in blatant disregard of the truth. Of course he was thinking something, and it wasn’t difficult to guess what. “When someone dies an unnatural death, we always have to look at the significant other.”

“Yes, but . . . they’ve only been dating a few months.” How significant could the relationship be in such a short amount of time? Although she
had
been wearing an engagement ring....

“I noticed that,” Wayne nodded when I said so. “New development?”

“The first time I saw it was Sunday night.” At the Tavern, with the champagne. It sounded like a game of Clue. “And I did see them both a few times last week, while we were getting everything ready for the flip. She wasn’t wearing it then.”

“So fairly recent. Don’t know whether that’ll make the situation worse or easier for her.” He gestured for me to precede him out of the house. Outside on the porch, he raised his voice to address everyone. “If I could have your attention, please?”

I moved away while everyone else turned to face Wayne. Wilson had put down the camera and was taking his turn to comfort Nina, who still looked distraught. Ted watched them, his jaw tight. Adam, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to chat up Fae. She looked as if she really wanted him to leave her alone, but she was too polite, or perhaps just too young and afraid, to tell him to bug off. Once in a while, she’d shoot a glance at Wilson, as if looking for rescue, but he was busy and didn’t notice. All conversation stopped at the sound of Wayne’s voice; the only thing we could hear was Melissa snuffling into Derek’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have to inform you that Tony Micelli is dead,” Wayne said formally. “Because of the circumstances, we’ll be treating the death as suspicious, and as a result, we’ll have to talk to everyone associated with the victim, as well as everyone associated with the crime scene. That means all of you.”

He let his gaze run over the crowd, and by now, his eyes had lost all that brown softness and were cold and hard.

“Surely you don’t think one of us . . .” Adam blustered.

Wayne focused on him. “I’m not thinking anything, Mr. Ramsey. Not yet, anyway. But you were all here this morning, and you all met Tony Micelli yesterday, and you all knew where the key to the front door was hidden. . . .”

Derek must have told him those things while the two of them were inside the house together.

“But Ivory said there were tools missing. . . .” Adam protested, with a glance at me.

“Avery”—Wayne glanced at me, too, with an amused twitch of his lip he couldn’t quite suppress—“is correct. However, the fact that the key was used suggests that someone who knew where it was hidden opened the door.”

A babble of protest greeted this pronouncement, as everyone wanted to express their shock, outrage, and innocence, all at the same time. Wayne held up a hand. “Save it for later. You’ll have a chance to tell me your side of the story.”

He thought for a second. “What might be best is if I take you back to the bed and breakfast. You can wait in your rooms while I talk to each of you individually. It’ll be more comfortable than cooling your heels at the police station. I’ll call Kate and let her know what’s going on.” He reached for his phone.

“What about us?” Derek asked when Wayne had delivered the news and Kate was prepared to play prison matron for the next few hours. “Avery and me? And Melissa?” He had his arm around her still, and she looked pale and shocked, her eyes unfocused. Her makeup was still perfect, though, so I guess all the sobbing must have been dry. Either that, or she used the most amazingly waterproof makeup the world has ever seen.

Wayne hesitated, looking at her. “I’ll have to talk to all of you, especially Melissa. In your professional opinion, is she up for an interview?”

“My professional opinion isn’t worth squat,” Derek retorted, “since I haven’t practiced medicine for six years. But in my opinion, she’s in shock and probably won’t be coherent until she’s had some time to rest.”

“Does she need to go to the hospital?”

“It might not be a bad idea to take her to see dad. Get a second opinion from someone whose medical license is actually current.”

“Why don’t you two do that,” Wayne said. “I’ll stay here until Brandon arrives, and then I’ll leave him to do the evidence gathering while I go back to the B and B with the crew.”

“Sure.” I was a little unsure as to why he was sharing his plan as if we were working together, but maybe it was his way of telling the crew, without actually telling them, what would be going down.

“C’mon, Melissa,” Derek said, helping her down the steps. “We’re gonna go see Dad.”

“My car . . .” Melissa stumbled when her foot hit the ground. Lurching sideways, she probably would have fallen if Derek hadn’t had a good grip on her.

“It’ll be safe here. The most important thing right now is to take care of you.”

“Keep me updated,” Wayne told me. I nodded, running after them.

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