The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery) (27 page)

“This is foolishness. I want a lawyer.”

“It won’t be me,” Jenkins said, picking up his glass of Lagavulin again. “I’m glad Miss Van Alst changed her beneficiaries from Muriel to her cats.”

Muriel shrieked and her black garments swirled. Her eyes bulged.

Lovely.

I continued, “You agreed to Muriel’s need for an alibi and came here to make sure Vera was dead while Muriel was still in plain view at the hospital.”

Jenkins put down his single malt with a thump. “I’m having trouble following.”

“Let me bring you up to speed,” Vera said, leaning forward again. “Many years ago, Muriel tricked me into believing I killed someone.”

Muriel’s eyes glittered. “You did! You ruined my life.”

“Not at all. Because I was foolish enough to believe you, I provided you with an alibi for the death of your stepfather. I had no reason to harm him.”

I interjected, “But you had a million reasons, Muriel. And you had your friend Frankie, even then.”

She paled and swayed. “You can’t prove it. I never said anything like that to you, Vera. I never did.”

Mr. Murphy got to his feet. “I imagine this is why I am here.”

“It is,” I said. “We need to hear what you know about this.”

“It was so many years ago. I did overhear Muriel bullying Vera outside the schoolyard, insisting she’d been drunk and stoned and something horrible had happened. I didn’t hear what the horrible thing was. It never occurred to me it was something so serious. Vera kept denying it. She said she never did drugs. But eventually she broke down and agreed that it must have happened the way Muriel said. I didn’t know what it meant at the time. It was a very disturbing scene, but it wasn’t in the school. I had no authority. I didn’t know what to make of it or what to do about it. There was never a word about either girl in the media. Shortly after, Vera left for college and Muriel departed right after her mother died. That conversation has troubled me ever since and, in my mind, it’s as clear as the day it happened. I truly regret not speaking to Vera about it. Perhaps I could have helped.”

Vera shrugged. “I wouldn’t have told you. She had me believing it in the end. It’s always weighed heavily on me. I won’t forgive her for that.”

“You? You won’t forgive me? You stole everything from me! My father, my life. This house should have been mine, and everything in it. You should have been living in poverty alone.”

“Ah, yes, the poverty that only a million dollars and the price of a house can alleviate. I am the true Van Alst, Muriel. You are a fraud, a criminal and an interloper.”

No one expected it. In a swirl of black clothing, Muriel lunged and grabbed Vera by the throat.

Chairs were knocked over. The bar cart went flying. The smell of alcohol filled the room. I raced to Vera’s side and caught someone’s elbow in the head. Kev landed on his backside. Cherie grabbed the laptop. I believe Jenkins hid under his chair while Mr. Murphy and Jasmine pressed themselves again the wall. A cat launched through the air, followed by a human scream. Uncle Mick would need to make a twenty-dollar deposit in the swear jar. Eddie wailed and pulled at Muriel’s fingers. Vera’s eyes bugged out of her head. Was she turning blue?

Somewhere a dog howled.

Detective Jones drew his weapon and pointed it at Muriel. “You’ve just bought me a world of trouble and I’ll shoot you if you don’t let go.” I believed him and Muriel must have too, although he had to repeat it. Her fingers loosened. Vera slumped into her chair. Eddie wept. No one saw Lainie making for the door in the fracas.

But once again, Officer Melski was in the right time at the right place.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, as he snapped handcuffs on Lainie a minute later on Jones’s instructions. A passing Siamese took a swipe at her legs.

“You missed the best part,” I said to Melski.

“Glad I got here,” he said with a tired grin. “I did promise Dekker I’d keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t want to tell him I failed in that.”

Uncle Mick said, “Shame about that bottle of Jameson.”

*   *   *

THE DOOR OF
my garret creaked open; the air inside was cold and a little stale, but I didn’t care. I was back in my own little cabbage-rose-wallpapered heaven. Muriel and Lainie were locked up. Jones was in hot water. The witnesses to the first will had turned out to be two innocent servers from Lainie’s café, just doing a favor for a customer. The poor kids would be out of a job now that the Hudson Café would be shuttered.

The signora, the cats, Uncle Kev and I were officially reinstalled in Van Alst House. Vera was home from the hospital. Her throat was badly bruised and she had broken blood vessels in her eyes, but she was alive and relieved to get her life back. Eddie was a happy man.

I let my bags slide off my shoulders to the floor. Kev had already brought my boxes up; they were stacked neatly in a corner and the Lucite coffee table was back in its place. Good Cat and Bad Cat wove in and out of my legs before making themselves at home on the bed. The signora had made it up for me with crisp linens and a puffy duvet. We were home. I was so lucky, but why did I still feel so sad?

My iPhone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Lance:

Poke.

Poke??? I haven’t seen you or heard from you in a week, you missed me getting fired, run over and solving a 40 year old murder and now all you have to say is POKE!???

The phone buzzed again. This time it was Tiff.
Poke poke

I’ll poke you, lady, with a sharp stick
, I thought. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. The cats tilted their heads in curiosity. Bad Cat extended his claws in anticipation.

Tiff and Lance and a humongous bouquet of stargazer lilies filled my doorway. I had meant to give them some attitude, but instead, my stiff upper lip turned into a trembling lower one.

“Where have you been? I got run over.” I stiffened my spine before a wave of tears washed over me. I was still, after all, a Kelly. We know how to pull ourselves together even when we don’t feel like it.

Lance and Tiff rushed forward. I think Lance may have been welling up; Tiff had streaks of tears on her cheeks. I was soon smiling from being wrapped in love, hugs and the delicious smell of my favorite flowers.

“Where were you?” My squeak trailed off. I was herded to the sitting area.

Lance’s eyes definitely had tears in them. His handsome face was twisted in guilt. “I’m a horrible liar.”

This was true. Tiff patted him on the back. Not a romantic gesture by any means. “He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. And that’s my fault.” She sat beside me. “Please, don’t freak out with what we’re going to tell you.”

“I’m making no such promise.”

Tiff said, “I’ve been really tired lately. Not merely tired, but exhausted.”

“Tell me about it. Try getting smucked by a truck.”

“But I also had a bit of a swollen gland in my neck. My doctors . . .” She continued but I heard nothing after that. My mind raced like WebMD as I ran possible causes through my database of human afflictions. I knew what she must have been afraid of: the same kind of cancer that killed her mother when we were in school. My hands started shaking.

“The same day, you said you’d lost your job. I heard that just as I got a cancellation to get in early. I knew that Lance would never be able to lie to you and I didn’t want you to be worried. I asked him to come with me. I made him leave his phone when we went to Syracuse for the tests.” My chest tightened. Panic spread goose bumps across my skin. I was so wrapped up in my reaction to her illness, I hadn’t even heard the rest of what she was saying.

“Jordan, it’s fine! I’m fine, really. They think it was anemia and maybe a mild case of hypothyroidism.” In order to avoid a waterfall, I grabbed Lance and Tiff in a hug/double nelson.

Tiff said, “So you understand why I didn’t want to tell you by text or by phone until we knew what was going on?”

“I do, of course. You must have been sick about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I feel bad you had to worry about me and worry about my reaction. I shouldn’t have been such a delicate flower.”

Obviously, I wouldn’t have been a very strong support during this time for Tiff. All that overthinking had led me to believe Tiff and Lance had ditched me for some magically splendid love affair in rainbow land or, at least, inconsiderately browsing in the outlet mall. But they were actually drinking stale coffee in a waiting room in Syracuse. “I thought you went off to ride unicorns without me.” I knew I had a goofy grin. “Now it all makes sense.”

Tiff and Lance exchanged glances. “Okay, Jordan, maybe you need a lie-down?” Tiff angled me toward the pillows. Lance said, “Is hallucinating unicorns a sign of a head injury?”

Tiff said, “Something must explain it.” Lance arranged my flowers in the vase he’d brought along. I saw him wiping his eyes.

After a lot of catching up, they left. I never once mentioned during our emotional gathering that I had pretty much learned to stand on my own feet without them. It seemed wrong to bring it up, and after all I’d had Kev and Cherie.

I climbed into bed still filled with relief. Good Cat took up residence on my belly. And I finally let myself fall into a deep sleep and joined them on the unicorn ride. Or maybe I dreamed that.

Except for Smiley, all was right with my world.

T
HE
F
OOD
D
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was practically unrecognizable. Festive paper turkeys decorated the place. Who doesn’t love turkeys and pumpkins and pilgrim hats? Phyllis managed to look rather rakish in hers. Not sure what the original pilgrims would have thought.

The pumpkin spice candles gave the place a warm glow. Phyllis’s team of retired teachers were kept busy setting tables, seating families and serving. I saw Mr. Murphy from a distance. He didn’t acknowledge me. I suppose I wasn’t his favorite person. Jasmine did dance by, bringing little bone-shaped packages for people to take home to their dogs.

The long tables were done up with yellow tablecloths and orange napkins. It was all the best the Dollar Daze had to offer. Lance had put his considerable decorating talents to work, with Tiff as the able assistant.

The aroma of turkey and stuffing was intoxicating. Even more intoxicating was the sight of my nearest and dearest, all working hard to get back in good grace.

It was hard to believe how many families and individuals were here for this special dinner. I was glad to be able to help them and sorry that they needed the help.

Vera Van Alst, generally the most hated woman in Harrison Falls, got some strange looks as she worked her wheelchair in between the long tables, offering hot rolls.

“You’ve never had anything like these,” she said with authority. I knew that was true because the signora had made a gazillion of them and they were simply the best. Their fragrance was wonderful, even with all the competing aromas.

“And you may never again, so hurry up,” Vera added to anyone who was slow on the uptake.

The signora danced behind her bearing an enormous soup tureen filled with ravioli simmering in homemade broth. Eddie followed reverently with a dish with freshly grated Parmesan. All right, so this wasn’t a Thanksgiving tradition in Harrison Falls, but who knew what the future held.

To my surprise, Dwight Jenkins was also volunteering. I spotted him with Tom and Mindy and they all waved. They were restocking the dessert table with plated pumpkin pies, cakes and other goodies. I guessed that Tom and Mindy’s kids had canceled again, but I hoped this event brought them some joy.

In the kitchen, Uncle Mick was inspecting the turkeys. I had left strict instructions that he wasn’t in charge of turkey doneness. The Kellys favor birds cooked to the texture of jerky. Luckily, Karen was there and able to exercise a bit of influence over Lucky, who in turn could get Mick to step away before complete desiccation set in.

Officer Melski had brought his family’s traditional sweet potato dish, complete with nicely toasted marshmallows. More surprising was a cameo appearance by Detective Jack Jones, in casual clothing, although I was pretty sure that charcoal pullover was cashmere. He made a donation under Phyllis’s eye and sauntered over to me. He nodded, reached out and shook my hand. “No hard feelings?”

“None. You made it right in the end.” I didn’t mention that it must have been a blow to him to learn that the lovely Lainie was a murderer. I never got details, but I figured she’d put certain ideas into his head about Muriel and Vera and me. At least he was man enough to admit he’d been had.

Tiff, bearing Brussels sprouts, created an impact. She would touch a shoulder, an arm, or pat a hand. She radiated happiness.

Lance was serving potatoes. Most of the women in the room fixed their hair as soon as they spotted him approaching. He is even more magnetic than Uncle Kev and far less catastrophic.

That reminded me, where was Uncle Kev? He’d said something vague about adding some pizzazz to the party. Cherie was blond again and also showing lots of pizzazz and cleavage. She was the sexiest pilgrim I’d ever seen. Would he dress as a pilgrim too?

I thought the dinner had already had plenty of pizzazz.

My phone buzzed and I put down my platter and checked. Everyone was there, after all.

Smiley.

Home tomorrow. Love U . . .

Love U?
Love
me
?

What just happened?

And wait, tomorrow?

Maybe I’d get my unicorns and rainbows after all. Although they’d better come with a good explanation. I had a feeling that explanation would be coming too. After all, Smiley had made sure that Officer Melski kept an eye on me.

Even I had to admit that things were just about perfect. Of course, that was before Uncle Kev arrived and most ceremoniously opened a crate releasing a gang of angry and confused wild turkeys. Pizzazz? Not so much.

Eventually, the screaming subsided and there was general rejoicing.

Everyone gave thanks.