Murder on the First Day of Christmas (Chloe Carstairs Mysteries) (31 page)

    
In the light of day, with all surfaces gleaming and the air fragrant with enticing aromas of teriyaki sauce and jasmine rice, it was hard to believe an intruder had almost attacked us the night before. An intruder I had casually flirted with over drinks just a few nights before. I really had to hone my screening skills, if I was going to hit the dating scene again.

    
When we had filled our plates with stir-fry, Mom and I spilled the whole story, sparing them nothing. Nancy’s alleged affair with her Pilates trainer, among others. Robin’s quasi-confession to killing her first two husbands. Jack Lassiter’s relationship with Robin. Angela’s career aspirations and her dismay over Robin’s inheritance. Meagan Taylor’s presence in Birmingham without her father’s knowledge. Tony Trianos’s claim that Oscar Browley was fixing cases. And Saul’s proclivity for digging up dirt on people and then holding it against them, possibly even his buddy Oscar.

    
McGowan listened carefully, interrupting only twice to compliment the stir-fry.

    
When we had finished, McGowan shook his head. “Oscar fixing cases? I’m going to need a lot more than Tony Trianos’s assertion and Saul’s theories to believe that.” He accepted another glass of iced tea from Mom. His plate was so clean, running it through the dishwasher would be a formality.

    
“Speaking of Trianos.” He reached down and retrieved the briefcase he had at his feet. “Thought y’all might be interested in these.”

    
He handed a folder to Mom. Inside were grainy black-and-white photos of her outside Trianos’s restaurant standing next to a paisley sofa.

    
I gasped and looked closer. That was me in my paisley skirt! Or should I say Bridget’s new paisley skirt?

    
“The FBI has a surveillance van on Tony Trianos,” McGowan informed us.

    
Mom cut her eyes at me.

    
“Remember what I told you about Moriarty and the illegal gambling operation?” McGowan asked.

    
“Moriarty?” Mom looked blank.

    
“One-hand man,” I clarified.

    
“Yeah. Gambling might be the tie-in between Trianos, the severed hand and, by extension, Saul.”

    
I couldn’t hide my exasperation. “That’s what we’ve been saying from the beginning - Trianos.”

    
“Yeah, but you two haven’t been the only ones getting cozy with Trianos lately. Feds have plenty of shots of Angela hanging around him, too. Funny how it always comes back to her.”

    
“Hilarious.” I closed the folder on the incriminating (read: unflattering) photos.

    
Dad set down his tea glass. “What about the discs? Have you opened them yet?”

    
McGowan nodded. “Lot of the same stuff you guys just told me. Interviews with Sid the Shiv. Oscar fixing cases. Saul was doing his homework.”

    
“That’s it?” I couldn’t believe it. Considering all the trouble we were in for not turning over the discs, they should’ve at least told us something we didn’t know.

    
McGowan didn’t appreciate the irony either. “Nothing about anyone else connected to the case. Just interviews for a new book about Oscar.”

    
“Which means Oscar’s the only person who had a reason to steal the discs,” I said.

    
“But no one knew what those discs contained, so someone’s imagination could’ve gotten the best of them,” McGowan pointed out. “Oscar was the only one with a legitimate reason.”

    
Dad wasn’t buying the whole Oscar-fixing-cases story. “Then why didn’t Saul ask me about Oscar? Interview me for his book? I defended clients Oscar prosecuted and never saw any evidence of wrongdoing.”

    
“But would Saul know about those particular cases?” Mom asked, not talking directly to my father, but rather addressing remarks somewhere over his shoulder. Tensions were high, folks. Repeat: tensions were high.

    
“In Saul’s first book,
We, the Jury
, I defended one of the bank robbers he wrote about in that one. We dealt the case down, so my client didn’t go to trial. Because of his testimony, his partner got the death penalty, and you can bet the eyes of the world were upon Oscar when he prosecuted a capital case. There was absolutely nothing irregular about it.”

    
Dad got up and helped himself to another serving of stir-fry, offering to serve Max as well. Of course, he accepted.

    
“Not a lot of people knew this.” My father returned to his seat. “In fact, maybe not even Saul, but Shearer, the guy who actually killed the security guard, confessed right before he was executed. He even sent a note to the guy’s widow asking for her forgiveness. His confession didn’t make the book because it was such a sad footnote to such a hard case, and it was Oscar’s idea to keep the confession private out of respect for the widow.”

    
“What about the other cases Saul wrote about? The black widow cases for instance,” I asked, crunching on a snow pea. “According to
Lady Killers
, Oscar prosecuted one of the three women in that book, but he couldn’t make a case against Robin.”

    
“Under Saul’s theory, Oscar could’ve just conjured up a case if he had wanted to,” McGowan said. “Why let a little thing like lack of evidence stand in the way?”

    
Mom shook her head. “Trianos made it sound like Oscar only twisted little things. Cut corners here or there.”

    
“Again, not the most credible of sources, Tony Trianos,” Dad stated.

    
Mom bristled at his tone, “He’s never been convicted of a crime, dear, and he had nothing to gain by telling us what he did.”

    
“If he killed Oscar and Saul, he has everything to gain by throwing the investigation off track.” Dad didn’t back down.

    
“You don’t think he killed them, and you know it.” Mom refused to give up. “It isn’t his style.”

    
“Shouldn’t we be starting from the end here?” I suggested. “We know Robin and Jack are the killers, why can’t we just work backwards to prove it?”

    
“I’ve warned you about jumping to conclusions. We don’t know anything for sure,” McGowan spoke up. “Jack’s sticking to his story that he was acting on an anonymous tip and entered the house only when he saw signs of a break-in. Also, there’s nothing to tie Robin to anything. That girl’s slick. Believe it.”

    
“Please. She and Jack had the most to lose, or they wouldn’t have tried to break in here,” I argued. “Why make things harder than they have to be?”

    
“Who sent you the discs in the first place?” McGowan asked.

    
“My money is on Trianos,” I announced.

    
Three sets of eyes turned to me in disbelief.

    
“He did seem interested in helping us, but of course, Mom was shamelessly flirting with him at the time. That’s another story, though.” I moved my ankles before they could be kicked under the table. “And he has a way of getting his hands on things. Maybe Angela or Tony had the discs all along. Whatever. But we know Jack and Robin were the most afraid of being incriminated by them.”

    
“So much for that,” Dad said. “Saul didn’t have anything on the discs to incriminate Robin or Jack. Something we all could’ve learned sooner if you two hadn’t hidden evidence.”

    
“Alex, we know, okay?” Mom said. “We know.”

    
“I’m not sure you do. You were careless, and things became dangerous - again.”

    
“The thing you have to learn about men, dear.” Mom spoke as if there weren’t any in the room. “Is that when they do something dangerous, they’re being brave. When we do the same thing, it’s foolish.”

    
“Dead is dead, that’s my thinking.” Dad glared at me as if I was the one who had spoken.

    
“No one is dead.” Mom’s tone reflected her exasperation. “Stop blowing this out of proportion. You just don’t like my using my feminine wiles on anyone but you.”

    
“Feminine wiles?” My father actually sputtered. “Is that what you were doing? Oh, forgive me, I thought you were chatting up gangsters with our daughter in tow. Hiding evidence. Obstructing justice.”

    
Dad really is a good lawyer. If I had been on the jury, I’d have voted to convict. Daughter in tow, indeed. What had my mother been thinking?

    
“And you.” He turned on me. “Are you out of your mind? Do you not have the sense God gave a peanut?”

    
My mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound issued forth.

    
“People, what’s done is done,” interrupted McGowan, which was lucky for Dad because I’m sure my comeback would have been blistering. “We need to focus on what we do know and hope it helps us fill in the blanks. Now, who wants to start?”

    
Of course, Mom did. “So we’re thinking Robin was afraid Saul had evidence against her, and Jack was stealing the discs to protect her. But could Jack have a motive of his own? Jack told Chloe there was nothing in Oscar’s Santa sack for him. Is that true?”

    
“No…” McGowan was obviously trying to recall. “He got something insignificant, but weird. An apple. A big ripe Red Delicious apple.”

    
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, and for a moment, my parents were united in their disapproval. Whatever.

    
McGowan shrugged. “There were other food gifts. Chocolates. Mixed nuts. Maybe it was nothing.”

    
“One big shiny apple, though, has to mean something.” Mom looked my way.

    
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away?” I suggested. “Maybe some connection to Gavin Beaumont?”

    
“Who’s a gynecologist,” Dad pointed out. “What connection could he have to Jack?”

    
“Maybe it’s the apple in the Garden. Adam and Eve.” Mom said. “Jack should resist the temptation that Robin represents.”

    
“I like that.” I got up to clear the plates.

    
McGowan rolled his eyes. “Hokey.”

    
“Well, you come up with something.” Mom held his gaze.

    
“I did. It’s an apple. Big deal. Tasty treat, nothing more. Alex?”

    
“I don’t attach much significance to it either.”

    
Mom and I looked at each other. Clueless, these guys.

    
“We haven’t even talked about the hand.” I shifted our focus. “Jack Lassiter is in law enforcement. He could get a hand if he wanted to.”

    
“Bullshit,” McGowan declared. “You can’t just sign one out of the evidence room. That hand’s got everyone stumped, so to speak.”

    
“It’s gotta mean something.”

    
McGowan’s look said he didn’t appreciate my stating the obvious, as he pushed away from the table. “So that’s all you ladies got? ‘Cause we don’t want any more surprises. No more discs? No more secrets?”

    
We shook our heads, both wishing he hadn’t mentioned the discs again.

    
McGowan recognized our crushed expressions and took pity. “You’ve done some good work.” He tossed us a bone. “You got a lot closer to Trianos than we ever could.”

    
“Feminine wiles,” Dad reminded him.

    
“Pretty powerful stuff,” McGowan replied.

    
“Tell me about it.” Dad’s voice was just a tiny bit softer.

    
I knew he wouldn’t be able to stay mad at Mom for long, and I suspected he, too, was secretly impressed by our resourcefulness. Maybe not by our methods, but by our results. Jack Lassiter had broken into our house, and even if we didn’t know how or why he had killed Oscar and Saul, we had helped catch him.

    
After a few more minutes of fruitless speculation and another warning from McGowan to mind our own business from now on, Dad said he had to get to the office, and the two men stood to go.

    
When my father touched my arm, I yelped, “Help! Police!”

    
McGowan kept walking.

    
“We’re not through talking about this,” Dad said.

    
“I know.”

    
My mother remained quiet.

    
McGowan thanked Mom for lunch.

    
“We’ll let you know if we learn anything else,” I couldn’t resist saying. “While we’re minding our own business, I mean.”

    
McGowan gave me an oddly speculative look, shook Dad’s hand and started down the front steps. Weird.