The Burnt Orange Sunrise (32 page)

“All made up,” said Hannah, effectively slamming the door shut on whatever it was that the two of them had together.

“Hannah, I hope you won’t give up on your dream to make a film about Ada,” Mitch said. “You’ve got so much talent, and she’s such a great subject.”

“She’s also
dead,”
Hannah pointed out. “I needed on-camera face time with her, Mitch. She was the last of her generation. Her contemporaries are all dead and buried. With her gone, I have no one to put on film. Where’s my documentary?”

“Who says it has to be a documentary?”

Hannah widened her eyes at him. “I should write her life story as a bio-pic, is that what you’re saying?”

“Why not? She led one hell of a life, and it’s a great part for the right actress.”

“It’s an
Oscar
part, are you kidding me?” Hannah said excitedly. “Nicole Kidman could play the hell out of her, or Cate Blanchett or, God,
Streep.
There’s Ada young, Ada old. There’s triumph, tragedy … Wow, Mitch, you’ve really given me something to think about on my long drive west. Thanks.”

“No problem. And if all else fails, you’d make a great nurse.”

“Not a chance. I hate hospitals.”

“I’m staying right here,” Spence announced emphatically. “Not
here
as in Astrid’s Castle,” he explained, on their blank stares. “Here in New York.”

“What about your promotion to the Coast?” Hannah asked him.

“I’m turning it down.”

“Spence, what are you talking about?” she demanded. “That job is everything you’ve been working toward for years. You’re about to become a heavy hitter. What are you, crazy?”

“No, totally sane,” Spence said, grinning at her. “It just so happens my priorities have come into acute focus over the past twenty-four hours, and Panorama Studios isn’t one of them. But, listen, I’ll put in a good word for you before my name turns to total poop. If you decide to pitch them that idea about Ada, I mean.”

“That would be awfully nice of you, Spence,” she said gratefully.

“No problem. Friends help friends out.”

Mitch went back over to the pool table and broke, thinking about how bizarre this all seemed—Hannah and Spence sitting there chatting about their futures as if nothing unusual had just happened. As if no one had been murdered. As if no one’s future plans actually consisted of life in prison without chance of parole. Because somebody in this castle, in this very room, was a killer.

But who?

Mitch sank the nine ball with his break and went to work on the table as Teddy sat there at the bar, sipping his Scotch, lost in his thoughts.

Aaron was caught up in some thoughts of his own. “Spence, what were you and Des talking about upstairs?”

“Personal things.”

“What sort of personal things?”

“The sort that are none of your damned business,” Spence said to him abruptly. “That’s what makes them personal.”

Jase turned away from the window to look at Spence curiously. Actually, they were all looking at Spence curiously. Except for Isabella, who had fallen asleep.

“Spence, it so happens that this
is
my business,” Aaron informed him loftily. “It’s my family that’s dying here. It’s my castle.”

“Well,
I’m
not yours,” Spence shot back. “So shut the hell up before I take a swing at you, you pompous boob.”

“I’ve got twenty bucks on the blond guy,” Teddy jumped in eagerly.

“Teddy, you are not helping,” Carly chided him. “And neither are you, Acky. Calm down, and kindly lose your new lord-of-the-manor act before I take a swing at you myself.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Aaron immediately backed down, chastened. “I apologize, Spence. I’m merely upset. I want to know what’s going on.”

“We all do, kiddo,” Teddy said.

“Nobody knows,” Carly said, swallowing. “Except for the person who did this, that is.”

“A condition which I find completely unacceptable,” Aaron said.

“It’s strictly a temporary condition,” Mitch assured him, dropping the eleven ball in a corner pocket. He still hadn’t yielded the shot to Aaron yet. If nothing else, this was turning into a very profitable winter storm. “Des will get to the bottom of this soon enough.”

“You sound awfully confident,” Aaron said.

“I am. I believe in her.”

“How
will Des get to the bottom of this?” Teddy wondered.

“By being smarter than the average bear, that’s how,” Mitch replied. “She’ll lick this. And her reinforcements from the Major Crime Squad will be landing here before you know it. If they have to, they’ll analyze every single hair and fiber of clothing in Ada’s room until they find what they need. Which they will. Whoever did this can’t go anywhere. So just try to relax. Let the professionals handle it.”

“Mitch is totally right,” Spence said. “And speaking for myself, I am totally starved. I may have to eat my shoe if Jory doesn’t get in here soon with those sandwiches.”

“She should be back by now,” Jase said fretfully. “What’s taking her so long?”

“She’s talking to Des,” Mitch reminded him. “She’s okay, Jase.”

“What if she’s not?” Jase had started pacing around the taproom, scratching furiously at his beard.

“As long as she’s with Des, she’ll be perfectly safe,” Mitch said.

“No, she won’t!” Jase moaned. He was over by the fireplace now, wringing his hands, breathing heavily.

And they were all studying him in guarded silence.

“Why not, Jase?” Mitch asked.

Jase didn’t answer. Just paced in anxious silence, scratching at his beard so hard it was almost as if he wanted to tear it from his face.

“Jase, is there something you want to tell us?” Mitch pressed him gently. “Do you know something?”

“She
knows.” He was over behind the bar now. “Des knows.”

“Knows what, Jase? What does Des know?”

“That… that…” Jase let out a strangled sob, then lunged suddenly for something that was stashed under the bar.

It was a handgun.

And he was pointing it at them, his eyes bright and wild.

“Oh, I don’t believe this,” Carly groaned.

“Y-You just shut up!” he stammered, aiming the gun right at her. “I know all about w-what you think of me. And you can just shut up. I… I run things now!”

“Sure, you do, Jase.” Mitch could feel his heart begin to race. And his mouth was very dry. “Just take it easy. We’re all friends here.”

“Bullshit!” Jase cried out. “We are
not
friends!”

“Is that thing loaded?” Aaron inquired. “Do we know for an actual fact that it’s loaded?”

“It sure is,” Teddy said. “No point in keeping it there if it’s not.”

Mitch frowned at Teddy. “You knew it was there?”

“Les bought it last year after he was held up in here by a pair of drunken louts from Rhode Island. It’s a Smith and Wesson, I believe he said. A thirty-eight.”

“You
knew
it was there?” Mitch repeated in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s no use, Mitch,” Teddy replied with a vague wave of his hand. “I’m no good at the responsibility thing.”

“And
that’s
supposed to make it okay?” Aaron roared at him. “The fact that you’re a nitwit?”

“Why are you yelling at
me?”
Teddy protested.
“He’s
the one with the gun.”

“God, shut up, shut up, shut up!” Jase screamed at them. “All of you just… shut… up!”

They went silent, all eyes on the emotionally fragile young caretaker who was standing there behind the bar with the loaded thirty-eight.

“What’s going on, Jase?” Mitch asked him, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I’m the boss of you now, that’s what,” Jase said toughly as he edged his way out from behind the bar, waving the gun at them as if it were something alive, something he could barely restrain. “And I’m tired of being pushed around.”

“Nobody’s pushing you, man,” Spence said. “Just chill out and put down the gun.”

“He’s right, Jase,” Mitch agreed. “Let’s not lose our cool here.”

“I’m not
losing
anything,” Jase argued. “Mitch, put your hands behind your head right now. Go on, do it.”

Mitch obliged him, making no sudden moves. He did not want to stampede him into firing that gun.

“Now take me to Jory,” Jase ordered him. “Jory needs me.”

“I can definitely do that, Jase,” Mitch said. “But are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do? Because once we walk out of this room together, there’s no going back.”

“Hell, yeah, I’m sure.” Jase gave him a hard shove toward the taproom doorway, jabbing him in the back with the nose of the thirty-eight. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Let’s go.”

“W
WHAT
DIGOXIN
?”
JORY GAZED
across the kitchen table at Des, mystified. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that a colleague of mine just hooked up by cell phone with Tom Maynard, our friendly home-town pharmacist.”

“Sure, I know Tom,” Jory said easily. “I went through school with his oldest girl, Tabitha. She got married last summer to Casey Earle. Casey’s major dull, but his dad owns Tri-County Paving so who cares, right?” She paused, shaking her head at Des. “What about Tom?”

“He confirmed that Norma recently needed an extra refill of her digoxin prescription. It seems Norma somehow misplaced a nearly full bottle. She searched the castle from top to bottom but couldn’t find it anywhere, she told him. Since Norma’s health insurer would only cover one refill per month, the extra one had to come out of her own pocket. So she was real mad at herself. That’s why Tom remembered it—because Norma was so mad at herself.”

Jory let out a soft laugh. “I’ll bet she was. Norma hated wasting so much as a nickel. Why are you telling me this, Des?”

“Because I’m almost positive that’s how Norma was killed—by an overdose of digoxin dissolved in her late-night cocoa. And because, according to Tom, Norma requested this extra refill a full two weeks ago, Jory. That lets out all of the folks who came here for Ada’s tribute. Whoever drugged Norma is someone who is here all of the time. Either you or Les, in other words. It had to be one of you, since I don’t peg Jase as any master schemer.”

Jory said nothing to this. Just sat there, her pink hands folded before her on the table. At her right elbow was the cutting board with the hunks of ham and cheese on it.

“It took me a good long while to arrive at you, if that’s any consolation.” Des studied her from across the table. Jory Hearn did not look at all like a bad girl. She was pretty in a wholesome sort of way, hardworking, capable, agreeable. The truth seemed almost impossible to believe. But Des did believe it. “Mostly, I couldn’t figure your motive,” she went on. “I kept thinking Aaron and Hannah must have cooked up the whole thing. He’s the one with the huge financial upside. She’s the one whose mom is a nurse. That girl knows her first aid—I figured her for the digoxin idea. It all played. Until Les got himself murdered, that is. Then my attention shifted to him and Teddy. Teddy’s strapped for money, as was Les, and Norma had provided for both of them in her will. Being her executor, Les knew all about that. I started thinking that maybe he and Teddy murdered her together, then had themselves a falling-out over Ada. Teddy did appear to have the best opportunity for killing Les. He was downstairs playing the piano when Les and Mitch were out in the woodshed. The rest of you were locked up tight, or so I thought. And Teddy did mention to me that he’d once given Norma a tape of himself playing “More Than You Know.” What if he’d slipped that tape of his into the battery-powered sound system in the dining hall and cranked it up good and loud? I’d be sitting there in the upstairs hallway thinking he was in the Sunset Lounge, playing, when he was actually outside murdering Les. It was plausible. Of course, once I found out about the trapdoors, I realized it could have been any of you. And now that we’ve spoken to Tom Maynard, everyone else is off the hook. Like I said, they weren’t here two weeks ago when you stole Norma’s pills. And that’s where you blew it, girl.”

Jory remained stubbornly silent. She wasn’t giving an inch.

So Des kept going. “I’m figuring you pretty much had to play it the way you did. You couldn’t sneak a few capsules out of the bottle, here and there, because Norma would come up short at the end of the month and notice it. You had to make it look as if she’d misplaced an entire bottle. Also, in fairness to you, you had no way of knowing at the time that you’d need to cover your tracks by killing Ada. The old lady wrecked your whole scheme, didn’t she? You
would have gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for her. I certainly bought that Norma died of natural causes. Her doctor would have verified that she had a serious heart condition. The medical examiner would have likely forgone the autopsy. It was all working for you, Jory. Until you went and killed Ada. That meant we had to take a fresh hard look at Norma. That also meant Les had to die because …” Des paused, shoving her heavy horn-rimmed glasses up her nose. “Actually, this part I still don’t get. Was Les going to pin it all on you, is that it?”

Jory lowered her eyes, gazing down at her hands folded there on the table. Slowly, her gaze inched over toward the cutting board at her elbow. And to the carving knife that lay there. It was very long and very sharp.

Des watched Jory’s eyes carefully. Also her hands. Her own hands were stuffed in the pockets of her coat. “The time for kidding ourselves is long past, Jory. Les is dead, you’re alive. That puts it all on you. So start talking. I repeat: Whose idea was it to put the digoxin in the cocoa—was it Les or was it you?”

“Des, I don’t know what you mean,” she responded finally, her hands edging fractionally closer to that knife. “Really, I don’t.”

“Sure you do.” Des shifted her SIG out of her pocket and into her lap. “But you’ve got to get off this story about Spence Sibley being the great love of your life. It’s sweet, but it’s also complete crap. You
did
rock his world last night. That part’s real. But the rest of it is straight out of a Harlequin Romance. You don’t feel any love for Spence, and we both know it. So show me some respect, Jory. I don’t think you’re a bad person. But something bad has happened here, and you were involved. You can’t get away with it. That’s not going to happen. So get out in front while you have the chance. Work with me. Trust me. If you do, I can help you. If you don’t, I can’t. And, by the way, you should know that my weapon is pointed right at you underneath this table. Move any closer to that carving knife and you’re dead.”