The Unkindest Cut (12 page)

‘‘He seemed like a man who stirred up strong feelings in people,’’ I said. ‘‘Particularly in women.’’

The ghost of a smile played across the deputy’s lips.

‘‘Frankly,’’ I continued, ‘‘I found him more than a bit obnoxious.’’

‘‘But you were signed up to have a lesson with him this morning.’’

I nodded. ‘‘Yes, I had signed up for one. Just because I found him annoying didn’t mean I couldn’t learn something about bridge from him. He was a celebrity in the bridge world, and I don’t imagine he achieved that without a very high level of skill at playing bridge.’’ I shrugged. ‘‘Besides, I was supposed to share the lesson with two other people, both men. I wouldn’t have been alone with him.’’ I didn’t want to tell this police officer that booking the lesson was mostly curiosity on my part.

Ainsworth stood in silence for a moment, staring past me at something or someone. I resisted the urge to turn and look.

‘‘I think that’s all for now,’’ he finally said to me. He stared at me a moment. ‘‘Unless there’s something else you’ve forgotten to tell me.’’

I shook my head. ‘‘No, that’s it.’’

‘‘Right.’’ He took my elbow and steered me toward the door of my suite. ‘‘I want to talk to Mrs. Trowbridge now. Would you mind if I interviewed her in your suite? Is there another room you and the other lady could go to while I talk to her?’’

I pushed open the door and walked into the living room. Marylou and Paula were sitting in silence on the sofa, while Ainsworth’s junior deputy stood to attention near the window. Sophie sat at the breakfast bar. ‘‘We can go into Marylou’s bedroom,’’ I said in a low voice.

‘‘Thank you,’’ Ainsworth said. He stepped past me. ‘‘Mrs. Trowbridge.’’

Paula looked up at him. ‘‘Yes?’’

‘‘I’d like to talk to you right now. I’m very sorry for your loss, and I know this is distressing for you, but it would really help me if I could ask you some questions.’’

‘‘Whatever,’’ Paula said in an offhand manner. Ainsworth might have just asked her whether she liked dogs. I stared at her for a moment, trying to read her. She really was the most peculiar woman.

‘‘Marylou, Sophie, let’s go into Marylou’s room,’’ I said, motioning for Marylou and Sophie to come with me. ‘‘The deputy needs to talk to Paula alone.’’

Sophie hopped off her stool and walked into Marylou’s bedroom. Marylou hesitated, but she followed Sophie. I shut the door behind us, then leaned against it. Marylou walked over to her bed and sagged down onto it. Sophie perched on the other side of the bed.

‘‘How is she taking it?’’ I asked. I heard the murmur of voices in the living room, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was no point in lingering by the door any longer, so I made myself comfortable in the overstuffed armchair near Marylou’s bed.

‘‘I think she’s still in shock,’’ Marylou said uncertainly. ‘‘Of course, we couldn’t really talk with that deputy watching over us, but I don’t think Paula would have said much even if she could.’’

‘‘You’re right,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘I kept watching her face, and I would swear that most of the time nobody was home. I’ve never seen such a blank expression on anybody’s face before. It’s like she just shut down.’’ She grimaced.

‘‘Maybe that’s the way she copes with things,’’ I commented. ‘‘Some people turn completely inward at times like this.’’

‘‘I guess you’re right,’’ Sophie said, ‘‘but she still gives me the willies.’’

‘‘What do you think, Marylou?’’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘‘I guess you’re right, Emma. Paula is prone to dramatizing herself, but she’s always been good at shutting out anything that she didn’t want to deal with. She’s good at denial.’’

‘‘I don’t think she can deny this,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘Someone murdered her husband.’’

‘‘Do you think she did it?’’ I asked, looking at Sophie and Marylou in turn.

Sophie spoke first. ‘‘She could have, I guess, but why would she? I mean, I know she wanted a divorce from the guy, but it’s not like divorces aren’t easy to get. This isn’t Victorian England, for Pete’s sake.’’

‘‘Unless he was worth a lot of money that she could inherit,’’ I said, thinking about it. ‘‘If she divorced him, she couldn’t get her hands on all of it.’’

Sophie and I waited for Marylou to say something. When she realized that both of us were staring at her, she spoke. ‘‘I just don’t know what to think. You think you know someone, and something like this happens. I don’t think Paula would kill anyone, or
could
kill anyone. But I just don’t know. I don’t think she would care about the money all that much. I think she just wanted to be free of him.’’ She frowned. ‘‘And like Sophie says, she could have divorced him. She
wanted
to divorce him, but he was resisting, for some reason.’’

‘‘There are certainly other people who might have had reasons to want him dead,’’ I said.

‘‘No kidding,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘I can think of four right off the bat, and there are probably others that we know nothing about.’’

‘‘Who’s on your list?’’ I asked.

Sophie cocked her head, considering her response. ‘‘First, there’s his ex-wife. She’s a pretty cool customer, and I think she hated him. Then there’s his son, who didn’t seem to care much for him either. He might have stood to gain the most, at least where money’s concerned. Or maybe Avery threatened to cut him off completely.’’

‘‘From what we overheard,’’ I said, ‘‘it sounded like Avery wasn’t giving his son the financial support he needed.’’

Sophie nodded. ‘‘And his son could have been really angry about that. Get rid of Dad and then get his hands on Dad’s money.’’

‘‘That’s possible,’’ Marylou said.

‘‘Who else?’’ I asked Sophie. ‘‘You said four.’’ I was curious to know whether her four matched mine. They probably did.

‘‘There’s dear sweet Veronica, of course. There was obviously something going on between her and Avery, and ‘hell hath no fury’ and all that. She looked mad enough to kill last night, that’s for sure.’’ Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘‘I would like it to be her, just because she’s such a bitch.’’

I had to laugh at that, and Marylou reluctantly joined in.

‘‘Finally,’’ Sophie said, ‘‘there’s his manager. Avery had fired him, or at least, that’s what we overheard him say.’’

‘‘Yes, we did hear that,’’ I said, ‘‘and Avery claimed his agent had caused him some serious financial problems. Maybe the agent had been embezzling from him, and Avery was threatening to go to the police,’’ I said.

‘‘That would be another good answer,’’ Marylou said. Then she sighed heavily. ‘‘But I’m afraid you’re forgetting someone. There’s a fifth person who could be said to have a motive for killing Avery.’’

‘‘Basil Dumont,’’ Sophie and I said in unison after a moment’s pause.

Marylou nodded. ‘‘There was no love lost between Basil and Avery. We all saw that—very publicly—last night. Basil has always been pretty mild mannered, but maybe he finally snapped. Avery could have pushed him too far for once.’’

‘‘Good point,’’ I said. ‘‘So there are five people besides Paula with possible strong motives for getting rid of Avery Trowbridge.’’

Sophie and Marylou nodded.

‘‘The police have their work cut out for them,’’ I said. ‘‘Plus I think I may be on the list of suspects myself.’’

‘‘Why?’’ Sophie asked.

Quickly I explained about the card in Avery Trowbridge’s hand. I had told Ainsworth I wouldn’t tell anyone, but that didn’t include my two best friends.

‘‘So you think he could have been trying to leave a clue to the killer’s identity?’’ Marylou frowned. ‘‘What could the queen of diamonds mean? We know
you
didn’t kill him, Emma.’’

‘‘Maybe the killer put the card in his hand to confuse everyone,’’ Sophie suggested.

‘‘I don’t know,’’ I said, ‘‘but I hope they get it sorted out soon.’’

Sophie and Marylou exchanged looks, then faced me.

‘‘What?’’ I asked with a voice full of suspicion.

‘‘Don’t look at us like that,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘You know you want to figure this out just as much as we do.’’

‘‘Is that so?’’ I said, trying to sound haughty and slightly offended.

Sophie snorted. ‘‘Come off it, Emma. I know you too well.’’

‘‘Besides,’’ Marylou said, very earnestly, ‘‘I don’t want Paula to be accused of something she didn’t do. I can’t help feeling sorry for her, and she’s going to need my—our—support.’’

‘‘Okay,’’ I said. ‘‘I agree. We should keep our eyes and ears open. We might spot something that the sheriff’s department could miss, but we have to be careful, or Ainsworth really will think I have something to hide.’’

‘‘Of course,’’ Sophie and Marylou said in unison.

‘‘I’m not sure Deputy Ainsworth will be too happy if he finds out we’re going to be helping him.’’ I rolled my eyes, and Sophie laughed.

Before either Sophie or Marylou could respond to that, we were all startled by loud screams coming from the other room.

Chapter 13

‘‘What on earth?’’ Marylou said, rising from the bed. ‘‘That sounded like Paula.’’

I made it to the door first, and I flung it open as another scream erupted from somewhere. Sophie and Marylou crowded behind me into the doorway so that I was forced to take a step into the room. Then all three of us stopped, aghast, as we took in the scene before us.

Ainsworth had his hands full with a struggling Veronica Hinkelmeier, who was trying, without success, to free herself from the deputy. The other deputy, whose name I blanked on for the moment, was similarly occupied with Paula.

‘‘Be still!’’

Ainsworth’s deep voice rumbled through the room, and both Paula and Veronica ceased struggling for a moment.

‘‘She started it,’’ Veronica said. ‘‘Just look at my face. It’s probably bleeding.’’ Her chest heaved with exertion as she made another attempt to loosen herself from the deputy’s iron grip. ‘‘I’m going to sue you for assault.’’

‘‘You can’t sue me if you’re locked up for murdering my husband.’’ Paula was yelling, but she stood still.

Veronica’s face was turned away from us, but from what she had said, Paula must have struck her. Marylou, Sophie, and I continued to watch. I didn’t think the deputies had seen us yet; they were so focused on holding on to the two combatants.

‘‘Now, just calm down,’’ Ainsworth said. He experimented with easing up his grip on Veronica, but she immediately started to pull away from him. ‘‘If I have to, I’ll handcuff you. Do you understand me?’’

Veronica nodded. I could tell by the set of her shoulders she was still furious, but evidently she had begun to cool down a bit. Ainsworth let go of her, and she stood still. He stepped away from her, only a pace or two, and she remained where she was.

‘‘The same goes for you, Mrs. Trowbridge,’’ he said. ‘‘Will you sit back down on the couch?’’

Paula nodded. She was calm again, and her face had taken on that blank look we had seen earlier. The deputy let go of her, and she sank down on the couch.

‘‘Just look at my face,’’ Veronica said. She had been examining herself in the mirror over the minibar. ‘‘Look at this.’’

She had turned where we could see her, and I winced. I heard Sophie and Marylou both mutter something. There were four streaks of red on her cheek. Paula must have raked Veronica’s face with her fingernails.

Behind me, I felt Marylou move away. I knew her well enough to understand that she was getting ready to administer some first aid to Veronica. I was surprised the deputy hadn’t done something about that, but evidently he had other things on his mind.

‘‘Mrs. Trowbridge,’’ Ainsworth said in a calm, reasonable tone. ‘‘Would you like to explain to me why you attacked this woman?’’

‘‘Veronica Hinkelmeier.’’ Veronica introduced herself. ‘‘I’m the customer-service manager for the hotel.’’

Ainsworth nodded. When Paula didn’t speak, he said, ‘‘Why did you attack Ms. Hinkelmeier?’’

For a moment, I thought Paula was catatonic and incapable of responding. Then she turned her face to look up at the deputy. For a moment, she appeared to be a tragically bereaved widow. ‘‘Because she killed my husband.’’

Veronica hissed, and Ainsworth hastily put himself between the two women.

‘‘She’s out of her mind,’’ Veronica said. ‘‘Why would I kill the man?’’

I didn’t think she sounded at all convincing. It didn’t even sound like she believed what she was saying. Paula just looked at her with contempt.

‘‘You were sleeping with him, and he dumped you,’’ Paula said. She might have been talking about the weather; she was so calm now. ‘‘You thought he would marry you once he and I got a divorce, but I’ve heard about how he treated you last night. He humiliated you, and you killed him.’’

‘‘What happened last night?’’ Ainsworth said.

‘‘Just what I said,’’ Paula replied. ‘‘She made advances, in public, to my husband, and he rejected her right in front of everyone.’’ Her mouth twisted in a malicious grin.

‘‘Did you witness this?’’ Ainsworth asked her.

Paula shook her head. ‘‘No, but I sure heard about it.’’

‘‘Who told you?’’

Paula laughed. ‘‘Avery’s first wife, Lorraine. She saw the whole thing. We had a good laugh about it. Neither one of us could believe how ridiculously this woman was behaving.’’

Marylou pushed past me, and I saw she was carrying a box of antiseptic hand towels and a tube of some kind of ointment. While Paula was speaking, Veronica stood stock-still, her face composed in a rigid mask. When Marylou approached her, she pushed her away.

‘‘Do I have to stand here and listen to this crazy woman go on like this?’’

Ainsworth turned to Veronica. ‘‘Is that what happened last night, Ms. Hinkelmeier?’’

‘’Avery and I had a public argument, that’s true,’’ Veronica said, the color rising in her face. ‘‘But I wasn’t sleeping with him, I don’t care what she says. I don’t sleep with married men.’’

Paula snorted with laughter. ‘‘You don’t sleep with anybody besides married men, from what I hear.’’