The Longest Yard Sale (6 page)

“You'd do that for me?”

“Of course. We'll start with your client list.”

“You think it's one of my clients?”

“It's a possibility. We'll start with people who came in on Saturday. We can question the ones who aren't familiar to us.”

“When can we start?” Carol asked.

“When they let you reopen.”

“Did you hear any more about Terry McQueen? Who he is or why he was in my store? Assuming we have the name right,” Carol said. “What did CJ say?”

“CJ hasn't called me back,” I said. “I found out a Terry McQueen worked on base.”

“I wonder if he knew Brad,” Carol said it more to herself than me.

“I'm not sure where he worked.” But that was something for me to find out. “Laura told me that Terry and Bubbles had started a financial planning company together, and some people weren't very happy about that.”

“Who is Bubbles?”

“Dave Jackson. An old friend of mine. Do you know him? He's in the air force, too. Do you have any money invested with him?”

“I don't know him. All our extra money is invested in the shop right now.” Carol shook her head. “I'd better get home.” Carol hugged me as she left. At least she'd quit crying, and her shoulders weren't slumped as she trotted down the steps. She didn't seem to know she might be a suspect in the murder. Maybe that was for the best. I realized I'd do whatever it took to clear her name.

CHAPTER 8

I washed the wineglasses and plates and put them away. I wrapped up the last piece of pizza in aluminum foil and stuck it in the fridge. After tossing the pizza box in the recycling bin, I set the chairs back at opposite sides of the table. Carol had been so worried about her problems that she hadn't grilled me about Seth. It was only 8:30, but it felt much later. As I cleaned, I thought about my promise to help question Carol's clients whom neither of us knew. What had I been thinking? There were probably lots of people on the list. Knocking on their doors and asking them if they'd swiped a painting didn't seem practical.

Another knock on my door interrupted my thought process. I usually didn't have more than one person stop by my apartment in a given week, and that person was usually Stella. Maybe Carol had decided to come back and grill me about Seth, after all. I opened the door to one very tired-looking CJ. I hoped the apartment didn't still smell like Seth.

CJ trudged by me and over to the couch. He flopped onto it, making no attempt to kiss me in the process. I was grateful since only an hour ago I'd been kissing Seth. I may need to rethink trying to date more than one guy at a time. I'd done it in high school, but the older, wiser me understood the consequences, especially when one of the guys was CJ, although we weren't really dating. I blew out a huge breath.

“What was that for?” CJ asked.

Trust him to notice the breath. “I guess I'm surprised to see you.”

“You left me multiple messages. I thought you might have information for me.”

“Carol's a suspect,” I said.

CJ narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that? Have you been talking to one of my guys? The ones who all promised they wouldn't discuss this case even with their own families?”

Rats. I couldn't very well tell him Seth had been over. And sadly, his reaction confirmed my fears. “You know your guys don't like me, so why would they talk to me?”

“Then how?”

“I was over at DiNapoli's.” I had a pizza box in the recycling bin that would corroborate my story. “It's just the gossip in town. Toss the newcomer under the bus.” Even though Carol's business had been open three years, in an area where people traced their families to the Mayflower if not the Vikings, Carol was a newcomer. Just as I was.

“You sounded more certain. You made a statement instead of asking a question.”

And that is why CJ was such a good cop. Sometimes I wondered if he was wasting his talents being a chief of police instead of a detective. “I was married to you, a cop, for twenty years. There was a dead body in Carol's store. I assumed she was a suspect. I guess I was hoping you'd deny it. And don't give me any of that ‘I can't confirm or deny' crap.”

CJ managed a grin.

I continued, “Beyond the fact the dead guy was in her store, I bet her fingerprints are all over that frame because she bought it at Ellington's yard sale.”

“Hanging around with cops might lead you to think you know more about investigating than you do.”

“I never said I knew anything about investigating.”

“It also might lead you to conclusions that may or may not be true.”

“There's a piece of pizza left if you want it.” Feeding CJ a piece of Seth's pizza seemed awkward, but he looked like he could use some food.

“Only one?”

Arrgh. “Carol was over.” Another verifiable statement as long as the subject of pizza didn't come up. I suspected that, if it did, Carol would cover for me and then grill me about what was going on.

I went into the kitchen and heated the pizza in the microwave. I rustled up a salad. CJ wasn't a big fan of salad, but he needed more to eat than one piece of pizza. “Do you want a Sam Adams Summer Brew?” I asked. I had one six-pack left. Octoberfest was the seasonal beer, but I liked the Summer Brew better.

“Sure.”

I poured the beer into one of the special Sam Adams glasses I'd bought at the brewery. According to them, it was the perfect beer-drinking glass because of the shape, the thickness, and the laser etching on the bottom. I put it all on a tray and placed it on the trunk in front of CJ.

“Bianca. Your favorite,” CJ said.

Another thing to be grateful for and feel uncomfortable about. CJ would have been shocked if I'd brought out a slice of meat lovers pizza. It's probably the last on my list of kinds of pizza I'd order. Not that I wouldn't eat one if someone else ordered. I turned on the Red Sox game but hit mute in case CJ wanted to talk about the case. I flipped through a magazine while he ate. It felt comfortable, not that different than any night we'd spent together during our marriage.

When CJ finished, he carried the tray into the kitchen and rinsed everything off, leaving the dishes in the sink. I heard Stella singing in her apartment. Stella was a former opera singer and a voice teacher at Berklee College of Music in Boston. She also taught private lessons in her apartment. I listened and realized she was singing an aria from
Pagliacci
, an opera that ends with the husband killing his cheating wife and her lover. She'd taught me a thing or two about opera since I'd moved in.

CJ came back into the living room, and I turned up the volume on the TV.

“Does her singing bother you?” he asked.

“Not usually.” Tonight might be the exception, though. “How's the investigation going?” Sometimes CJ talked cases over with me.

“Slowly.”

But I guessed he wasn't going to talk this one over with me. I couldn't blame him. He didn't know where we stood anymore. I was still surprised he even stopped by. We watched as the Yankees tied the game at the top of the ninth. The Red Sox left two men on base, sending it into extra innings. I got CJ another beer, then sat back down. “Carol swears she doesn't know McQueen.”

CJ jerked up. “Where'd you hear that name?”

“I overheard it after you left Carol's shop this morning. Am I right that Terry McQueen is the victim?”

CJ stared at the TV, but I don't think he saw the game. A relief pitcher struck all three Yankees out.

CJ finally looked over at me. “The next of kin were notified this afternoon, so I guess it doesn't matter that you know. His wife identified the body. It will probably be on the news tonight and in the paper tomorrow morning.”

I couldn't imagine how sad Terry's wife must be. “Is there an official cause of death?”

“No.”

“Unofficial?” I asked. “Was he strangled?”

“Where'd you hear that?” CJ almost shot out of his seat.

“I didn't hear it. I deduced it from looking at the scene.”

“I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse,” CJ said as he sank back onto the couch.

“I heard he was in business with Bubbles. Have you talked to him?”

CJ hesitated. “He's really shaken up. But doesn't think it has anything to do with the business. We're looking at other angles, too.”

That was almost the exact wording Seth had used. I was going to ask about the other angles, but a bat cracked loudly from the TV. The Red Sox's new, young phenom hit a home run with the bases loaded and won the game.

CJ finished his beer. “That new hotshot DA brought the staties here.”

Seth. As prosecutor, he would turn the case over to the state troopers. “Isn't that typical?” I asked.

“Yes. But it doesn't mean I like it or that I'm going to sit back and not do anything.”

My hand shook a little as I turned the TV off. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Since the apartment next door was empty, I assumed it was someone coming here. I opened the door. Bubbles stood there, with Stella behind him. His usually cheerful face looked pale and set. He held a white piece of paper in his hand.

“Look what I found on my windshield.”

CHAPTER 9

CJ took the piece of paper as Bubbles and Stella came in. We all huddled around it. “You're next” was written in sprawling letters. I looked at CJ. His eyes narrowed as he studied the note. Who would threaten Bubbles? He had to be terrified, considering his partner was dead.

“When did you find this?” CJ asked.

Bubbles clutched Stella's hand. Her wide-open green eyes looked at me, asking a question I didn't understand.

“Just now. I said good-bye to Stella, went out to my truck, and found this tucked under my windshield wiper. I figured it was just some flyer until I read it.”

“Let's take a look at your truck,” CJ said to Bubbles.

Stella and I followed the two men down the stairs and out to the truck. The night was cool; stars popped in the sky. There wasn't much traffic on Great Road. No one lurked in the dark shadows cast by the church.

“Did you see anyone near your truck?”

“Not at all. I saw your SUV parked out here, so I came up.”

CJ had driven his official police vehicle over instead of his personal car, meaning he was going back to work after he left here. Which made me wonder why the heck he'd come over. Even though the truck sat under the streetlight, CJ grabbed a gigantic flashlight from the car and used it as he moved around the truck. I followed him. I couldn't see anything different than when it had been parked out front yesterday.

“How long were you at Stella's?” CJ asked as we went back up to my apartment.

“A couple of hours.”

“What were you doing? Did you hear anything?”

Bubbles and Stella looked at each other. Stella turned a shade of bright red usually only seen in dyed carnations. Bubbles's face relaxed momentarily into a grin.

“I didn't hear anything, except for Stella's amazing voice,” Bubbles said. “She's getting ready for a faculty recital.”

He sounded proud. They must really like each other.

“Do you recognize the handwriting?” I asked. CJ shot me an “I'll ask the questions” look, but I knew this was an important question. The paper was plain white copy paper, eight and a half by eleven, pristine and probably untraceable because it was sold in reams everywhere.

Bubbles took the paper back from CJ. We all stared at it again. Bubbles shook his head. “I don't. Do any of you?”

I reached for it, but CJ snatched it from me. “Who else has touched this, Bubbles?”

“Just me. And Stella.”

“Hold it up to the light and see if it has any special watermarks,” I said.

CJ did, but there weren't any watermarks on it that would differentiate it from millions of other pieces of computer paper.

“Let's take it down to the station. I'll get an official statement,” CJ said to Bubbles. He headed to the door. “Thanks for the pizza,” CJ called as he hurried out. Again no attempt to kiss me. I still didn't know what to make of that.

Bubbles brushed a quick kiss across Stella's lips and rested his forehead against hers for a few seconds before leaving.

 

 

Stella turned to me. “Have any wine? Or should I run down and get my scotch?”

“I have wine.” I wasn't a big fan of scotch. “Cabernet okay?”

We settled on the sofa with our glasses, tapping them in a silent cheers.

“What do you think about that note?” Stella asked.

Maybe because I'd been married to a cop she thought I had some kind of special investigative skills, which couldn't be further from the truth. “A piece of plain white paper that's available everywhere isn't going to help narrow a search for who wrote on it. The writing looked unremarkable. Maybe they'll get some prints from it.”

Stella brightened a bit at that thought.

“They might need a set of prints from you,” I told her.

“If they use any national database, I'm sure mine will pop up.” Stella had some troubles in her youth.

“Bubbles must have been terrified,” I said.

“I've never seen him look like that. We haven't known each other that long, but his face was drained of color. And his gorgeous brown eyes just looked blank, like he was shell-shocked. I've always heard that term, but that was the first time I'd ever seen someone actually look it. We were both relieved CJ was here.”

“Did you hear that he was in business with the guy who was murdered at Carol's shop?”

“He called me earlier today and told me. I asked him to come over so he wouldn't be alone.”

“You wanted to distract him?”

A smiled flashed across Stella's face. “Yes. But then this happened. It scares me that someone tracked him to my house.”

“CJ will have realized that. I'm sure we'll have increased patrols.” I hoped so. I hadn't thought yet about the killer coming by here. I shook my head. “I can't believe what's happened over the last few days. A murder. Threatening notes. And Carol's painting disappearing.”

“What happened to Carol's painting?” Stella asked.

I was surprised it wasn't on the town grapevine. I filled her in. “Please don't mention it to anyone. She's already started another copy.” I picked up my wine. “So you're singing an aria from
Pagliacci
for a recital?”

“Nedda's. Maria Callas made it famous in the midfifties. I find love triangles fascinating, don't you?”

I drank some wine, feeling heat creep up my face. I hoped Stella thought the color was from the wine and not my embarrassment.

“Who was that hottie I saw trotting down the steps from your apartment?”

Rats, I'd finally been caught. “Insurance salesman. Did he stop by your place? He had some good rates on term policies. Never buy a whole life policy. They're a rip off. Too expensive. Most people stop paying for them before they have full coverage.” Stop babbling, I told myself.

“I thought we were way beyond lying to each other at this stage of our friendship. And, trust me, I recognize Massachusetts's most eligible bachelor when I see him.”

“It's a long story.” And maybe one I needed to quit hiding.

“I'm all ears,” Stella said.

I filled her in on our relationship.

“You like him,” Stella said.

“I do. But what if he's just that rebound guy you always hear about?”

“He must be more than that to put up with your shenanigans.”

“Did Bubbles see him?” Not that Bubbles would know who Seth was, but he might tell CJ he saw someone leaving my apartment. I didn't want CJ to know I was dating Seth, but I wouldn't lie about it, either.

“No. I was taking out the recycling. Dave was inside. Seth looked awfully happy.”

“Not for any reason you might be thinking.” I sat up. “What about McQueen? Could he be in a love triangle? His wife or a pissed-off girlfriend?” One who liked to paint, maybe? “Had you met him?”

“I've known Terry for years. He grew up here, although he's a bit older than me. I think my Aunt Gennie knew him pretty well.”

“When's the last time you saw him?” I asked.

“Dave and I ran into him at the Colonial Inn when we were having lunch a couple of weeks ago.”

“And?”

“And what? I'm starting to feel like I'm being interrogated.”

“I'm sorry. It's just . . . I saw him dead this morning. I'm trying to understand why.”

“I'm guessing you're worried your friend Carol is going to be in trouble since Terry was in her store.”

“Yes. I'll shut up.”

“It's okay. Everyone needs a friend she can count on in a crisis.”

“What was Terry like?”

“Polite. He asked how Aunt Gennie was doing. He knew she was getting ready to retire. We only talked for a few minutes.”

“Have you met his wife?”

“No. She's not from around here. Why?”

“Maybe she had something to do with his murder.” Maybe that was one of the other angles CJ and Seth had referred to.