Mahjonged (An Alex Harris Mystery) (29 page)

“Tell me what you’ve been doing,” my sister said from across the table.

“I’ve been talking and Francis has been typing,” I began. “I think I got their personalities right. Looking at what I said for Connie, she’s very congenial when I’m not accusing her of something. I think it would take a lot to get her really riled. She has to put up with a lot at the health club dealing with so many people all day long. I can’t see her becoming so upset over something Penelope, a total stranger, said that would cause her to kill the woman.”

“Are we sure they never met?” Francis asked. “Did Penelope have a membership at the club?”

Now there was an interesting theory and one I had never pursued. “Well, I’m not sure. I don’t think so, but I plan to work out this evening, so I can ask then.” How had I forgotten to look into that? Geesh. I finished eating the first half of my sandwich and went back to the data. “Liz has a lot going for her but what happened to Mia’s father took its toll, especially with her marriage,” I mused. “The lawsuit ruined her marriage, and if she knew Penelope was one of the lawyers, it could have tipped her over the edge.” I shook my head. “Maybe if I can find her a job, she’ll be able to get her life back.”

“Maybe she’s still bitter and wanted to kill Mia once and for all hoping it would put an end to her guilt,” my sister said. “After all, we’ve never been able to establish Penelope was the intended victim.”

“Oh, I don’t agree. After I found those tiles on her mahjong rack I think she most certainly was the intended victim.”

“Her hand could have just been a coincidence,” my sister pressed.

I took a bite of my BLT and thought about it for another minute. “We have to go with Penelope being the right victim.”

“Why?”

“Because, Samantha, if she’s not then I need to start all over again and I don’t have time.”

“True,” Meme said. “We got about forty-eight hours at the most, probably a lot less, before John turns up and closes us down.” My grandmother made it sound like we were running a bookie operation. “Don’t go throwing out entirely different theories, kiddo. Your sister is rattled enough as it is.”

Sam nodded her agreement and picked up another sandwich.

I turned back to the computer screen. “Jean is pleasant but for whatever reason, I think she’s had some hurt in her life. I know she’s a widow, but I didn’t see any pictures of the husband around.”

“Then maybe she’s not a widow. Maybe divorced. Or maybe seeing pictures of him around brings up all the pain of his death,” Theresa said. “Liz is divorced and you didn’t see any pictures around her place.”

“If he died, she would have lots of pictures around,” Meme chimed in.

“Maybe it makes her sad to see them,” Sam echoed what Theresa had said.

I made a note in the background data for Jean that her marital status was a mystery and then moved on to Mia. “Now, Mia, for some reason I just didn’t get a good read on her. She’s young, pretty, has a good job, but I just didn’t feel a sense of what she’s really like.”

“She and Millie seem close, but at a distance if that makes any sense,” my sister said.

“True. She seems guarded but I can’t figure out if it’s because she’s intensely private or if she’s hiding something.”

“Well, her father dying and not having a mother with her for most of her life can do stuff to you,” Meme said, while munching on a pickle.

“Now, Bert,” I said as I licked mayonnaise off of my fingers, “I get the feeling he’s actually a laid back kind of guy, and not much bothers him. Probably why he didn’t seem to take people not showing up for work personally. It just goes with the construction business. I think I had him all wrong at the beginning. He’s the kind of guy who will eventually get the job done and doesn’t understand why others are so impatient.”

“Sounds like you’re taking him off your list completely,” Francis said.

I thought about this. I really did think Bert snuck into my house for exactly the reason he said—to see Connie. But then maybe seeing Penelope and knowing she planned to sue him got the better of the guy, plus maybe he was afraid she would tell Connie about the affair and he lashed out with my cake knife. But that meant he had to come downstairs, kill her, and then go back up without anyone seeing him. If the killer was one of the women at my party, they could just kill her and then blend right back into the scenery.

“Not entirely,” I said to Francis, “but he’s the long-shot because he would have been seen by someone coming and going.”

Sam came over and stood behind me still eating a Reuben sandwich. I didn’t want any of the dressing to drip on my sweater so I stood up and let her take my seat.

She pressed a few keys with one hand and looked at the screen. “We have a lot of talent in our little town. Connie is an actress, Liz does photography and Jean paints. Maybe I should take up painting. I could paint.” My sister couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler, but then painting didn’t seem to use a lot of straight lines. “So now that you have all this information, does anything jump out at you?” she asked looking up at me.

“Not so far.” I caught a glimpse of Francis looking dejected at not being more help. “But don’t worry. With all this information and the ability to look at it from a lot of different angles, I promise I’ll have everything figured out by time John gets home.” I gave Francis a smile and she brightened considerably. Now all I had to do was make good on my promise. Me and my big mouth.

I wasn’t in the mood to exercise but I really did need to find out if Penelope used the gym. If she did, I would have to take a better look at Connie. The only reason I could think of for her killing the woman was Bert. Knowing she planned to sue him and with all the other complaints filed against the guy, Connie may have felt the need to protect her man and of course if she knew about the little fling he had with Penelope, she could certainly spring to the top of my list.

Patricia Hernandez, the club manager, stood behind the front desk when I arrived. I quickly looked around for Connie, but didn’t see her. I had supplied a few office temps for the club whenever they had promotional specials going on and I had a working relationship with Patricia, if not a personal one.

“Haven’t seen you in a few days, Alex,” Patricia said as she handed me a towel. “Of course, Connie told me what happened at your house so I guess you’ve had other things on your mind.”

Luck was on my side. Not only was the usually abrupt and impatient Patricia not so harried today, but she also seemed to be in a chatty mood. “Yes, it’s been very hard on my entire family with my nephew getting hit by a car as well.”

“Oh, my, I forgot. Connie told me about that. How is the little guy doing?” Patricia’s expression softened.

Nothing like talking about a child being in an accident to bring out the caring side of people.

“He’s much better, thank you.” I leaned on the counter. “Say, did you know the woman who got killed at my house by any chance? I seem to remember someone saying she was a member here but I never saw her.”

“What was her last name? Something with an R, right?”

“Yes. Radamaker. Penelope Radamaker.”

Patricia shook her head. “No. No Radamakers. As a matter of fact, no Penelopes or Pennies either.”

It didn’t surprise me Patricia knew there were no Penelopes on her roster. I thanked her and headed toward the lockers. As long as I was here I might as well try to exercise my BLT away.

I was just about to leave when Connie came in and walked right up to me. “Bert told me you figured out he had an affair with Penelope.”

“So you knew?” I asked, trying to figure out if this made Connie more or less of a suspect.

“I do now. I didn’t know the night of your party or I may have stabbed the woman myself. Forget I said that. Look, Bert confessed to me because he wants us to have a fresh start. And if you think he killed Penelope over their affair, you’re wrong. Bert’s had flings before. He’s a hunk. Women can’t resist him. But he’s learned his lesson and we really want to make a go of our marriage. So…”

“So what?” I asked, looking at Connie.

“So do you still suspect him? Do you suspect
me
?” Connie asked looking horrified. “Neither one of us had anything to do with her death. You have to believe me.”

I looked into Connie’s pleading eyes and smiled. “I do believe you. I don’t think you or Bert killed her.”

I left Connie looking relieved and drove over to Judith’s house. I really did believe Connie and I just hoped Judith could convince me once and for all she didn’t kill Penelope either. Something kept creeping into my subconscious and I really didn’t think it had anything to do with Judith.

“Hi, Alex. I had a feeling you would be back.”

“You did?”

“I know how you solved those other murders and you won’t let it go until you uncover every stone. Besides, Millie let it slip you suspected me.”

“Well, not really,” I began a bit embarrassed, “but she did say you had a crush on the doctor.”

“Oh, Alex. I’ve been working there forever and when I started, Millie was little. Yes, she did hear me gushing about him all the time, but it was with relief I finally found a good job working for a good man, more than the fact I liked him. Which, I do, by the way, but not like that. He’s been very good to me all these years.”

“Well, maybe you felt protective of him…”

“And killed Penelope so she would leave him alone? Doctor Katz can take care of himself. And besides, Penelope stopped coming to the office quite a while ago. She was finally doing much better. Look, Alex,” Judith said resting her hand on my arm. “I didn’t kill her and you know that. And I understand you had to ask so no hard feelings.”

I left Judith feeling much better and a while later I sat at my parents’ kitchen table. I would miss this. Coming home every night to the smells of something freshly made, not having any household chores to do, just a carefree life. I wondered if I could talk John into moving in with us.

My mother came into the kitchen. “Alex, your father and I are going out tonight. It’s date night.”

“Date night? I didn’t know you two did date night.”

“You don’t know everything about us,” my mother said.

She was right, and the truth was I didn’t want to know everything, especially I didn’t want to know what they did on date night.

“There’s a plate for you in the microwave. My homemade meatloaf and those thin roasted potatoes you like so much. A salad is in the refrigerator and ice cream in the freezer.”

Yep. John definitely needed to move in here with me.

My dad called from the living room and my mother grabbed her purse and left, giving me a quick kiss on top of my head before she did.

After I consumed everything on the plate and got another helping out of the refrigerator and finished it as well, I took out the flash drive with the spreadsheet Francis created and took it into my father’s study.

I sat there with just the glow of the computer screen illuminating the room. I clicked on the spreadsheet and opened it up and then scrolled down the page slowly reading everything Francis had typed so neatly. Something kept tugging at my thoughts and I scrolled back up the page and began slowly going through each row of information hoping whatever it was in my subconscious would make itself known. I scanned all the data for another half hour and then decided to reward myself for my efforts with some chocolate ice cream.

I took the bowl containing more whipped cream than ice cream back into the study and sat there eating and staring at the monitor. Now that I had eliminated Connie, Bert, and Judith off my list I could concentrate more on the information at hand and the remaining suspects. I heard a noise and looked out the window. A car slowly drove down the street, its brake lights glowing as it passed in front of the house. It was dark out and I couldn’t see the driver but then it sped up and moved from view. Cars braking in front of the house gave me the creeps. I didn’t think I’d ever forget the sound of the car as it hit Henry. Sweet little Henry. My sister had just picked him up when I got home and he looked so cute hopping to the minivan, his new coloring book firmly held in his teeth.

I leaned back in the chair and resumed my ice cream eating. Something caught my eye and I moved the mouse around bringing the two cells of data along side each other. I slowly put the bowl down on the desk and just stared at what was right in front of me the entire time. And all of a sudden I knew who killed Penelope. I just didn’t know why.

It’s truly amazing how something can be right in front of you almost from the beginning and you don’t see it. I would make a terrible witness. And now that I saw the one thing, a few others started to fall into place. Just like a puzzle.

I probably should have left a note for my parents, but with luck I would be back before they got home from date night. I probably should have put the bowl in the dishwasher as well, but in my rush, I left it sitting on the counter. At least I rinsed it.

I drove way too fast for Indian Cove, but I felt pumped up. I’m sure the chocolate contributed to my heightened state plus adrenaline raced through my system at an alarming speed.

I mentally gave myself another head slap. I could understand my not seeing it all this time, but today when I narrated incessantly for Francis, I should have caught the similarity. But I wasn’t looking for this. I just never suspected, but it had to be someone, didn’t it?

I pulled up in front of the little cottage. Lights blazed from the inside and I sat there wondering if this was such a good idea and then I got out and walked up the path to the front door. I took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. Then I rang the bell. The porch light flicked on and the door opened.

“Alex? What are you doing here? Oh my, is Henry all right?”

I looked at the concern in her eyes and I remembered how she sat at my grandmother’s table coloring with Henry and instantly realized I had nothing to fear from this woman who had killed another. “Yes, Jean, he’s fine.”