A Catered Mother's Day (7 page)

Chapter 13

“R
eally,” Clyde said when Sean called his friend to tell him the news.

“Yes, really,” Sean replied.

“I'll be over in a half hour.”

“Clyde, there's no rush,” Sean protested.

“Yeah, there is. Otherwise I'm going to have to go to my mother-in-law's, and since she doesn't like me and I don't like her,” Clyde told Sean, “this is perfect. The wife can't argue with my fighting crime and making Longely a safer place. Now everyone is happy, especially me.”

Twenty minutes later Clyde was at the door.

“Nice tie,” Sean said, managing not to laugh when Clyde came in.

Clyde looked down. The tie was bright blue with pink and yellow poppies splashed across it. “Jeez.” He took it off and jammed it in his jacket pocket. “I forgot I was wearing it. My mother-in-law's pick.”

“I guess she
really
doesn't like you,” Bernie observed.

“Hasn't for the last twenty years,” Clyde said, sitting down in his accustomed chair. He reached for one of the brownies Libby had put out on the table and poured himself a cup of sweet tea. “Your call came in the nick of time,” he said to Sean before biting into a brownie. He sighed with contentment. “Perfect,” he said, chewing slowly. “Not only does my mother-in-law have lousy taste in clothes, she can't cook worth a damn.” He looked at Libby. “I don't suppose you have any actual food around?”

She smiled and got up. “I think I can rustle something up.”

“Much obliged,” Clyde told her. “Tell me again what you told me on the phone,” he said to Sean as Libby went downstairs.

So Sean did.

Clyde's eyes widened as he listened. “I thought maybe you were kidding me,” he said, leaning forward.

“Nope. Libby's pretty sure,” Sean said.

Clyde leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his sweet tea. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Like Lucy?” Sean shook his head. “Considering that Libby and Bernie were there at the scene—no. I think I'd like to leave their names out of it if it's all the same to you.”

“Thanks a lot for leaving it to me.”

Sean grinned. “One of the many benefits of being off the force.”

“I'll figure something out,” Clyde said.

“I know you will,” Sean told his friend. “That's why I called you.”

Both men fell silent for a moment.

“Is Libby one hundred percent sure?” Clyde asked Sean, breaking the silence.

“No,” Sean said. “Not one hundred percent, but probably”—he paused for a moment—“eighty-five percent.”

Clyde ate another brownie. “So why didn't she recognize him at the motel?”

“I guess he's gained a lot of weight, right?” Sean said to Bernie.

“That's what Libby said,” Bernie told Clyde. “And boy was she right.”

“What did I say?” asked Libby. She'd just come upstairs with food for Clyde.

“That Manny had gained a lot of weight, which was why you didn't recognize him at first,” Sean repeated.

“He sure had.” Libby put the tray down and offered Clyde a platter consisting of kalamata olives, salami, roasted red peppers, cherry tomatoes, and homemade roasted artichoke hearts finished off with a sprinkle of Asiago cheese, plus a few slices of Italian bread.

“Perfect,” Clyde said as he dug in. “Raymond Manford Roget.” He shook his head as he ate a couple of olives. “I heard he was dead.”

Sean nodded. “That's what I said too.”

“Well, he is now. No doubt about that.” Bernie reached over and broke off a small bunch of green grapes. She put a couple in her mouth, then readjusted the pack of frozen peas on her ankle and sat back.

Libby sat down on the sofa. “The beard and the weight threw me off, but his eyes are the same and so is that little crease in his nose. I thought I recognized the face when I saw him on the bed, but I couldn't put a name to it. Then I saw the family headstone and it all came together.”

“Manny Roget.” Clyde repeated the name. His eyes got that faraway look they always got when he was remembering the past. “He certainly got himself in trouble. For years he was Mr. Upstanding Citizen, not even a parking ticket, and then boom!”

“If he did what they say he did,” Sean reached over and snagged a brownie. Sweets were definitely his downfall.

“Which was?” Bernie asked.

“Melinda Banks and Kitty Price accused him of imprisoning and raping them.”

Bernie wrinkled her nose. “Those names don't sound familiar.”

“They weren't here for that long. Thank heavens,” Sean said. “Something bad always seemed to happen when they were around. Anyway, the DA bought their story and Judge Munoz signed a warrant for Manny's arrest, at which point he got the hell out of Dodge. Basically, he disappeared off the grid.

“The interesting thing, though, was that rumor had it the whole thing was a setup and that the girls had gotten paid to testify because Manny was fooling around with this girl and the family didn't like it and this was the way they took care of the problem.”

“I never heard that,” Sean said.

“I did,” Clyde replied. “From a lot of different people. They said Manny had been warned off, but he didn't listen.”

“That's pretty extreme,” Libby said.

“If it's true,” Clyde replied. “I never pursued it.”

“Do you think it was true?” Bernie asked.

Clyde thought for a minute. “Knowing the two girls, I wouldn't be surprised if it was.”

“This is news to me,” Libby declared.

“You were at Buffalo State,” Sean answered.

“And where was I?” Bernie demanded.

“In Oakland.”

“I guess Mom didn't keep us up on
all
the local news,” Libby said as she leaned over and snagged herself a hazelnut macaroon. It was one of the last ones left.
They really were a lot of trouble to make, but boy were they worth it
, Libby thought. And no matter what anyone said about chocolate and raspberry being the best combination, in her mind you couldn't beat hazelnut and chocolate or chocolate and coffee. She could live on these forever.

Sean laughed. “Not on the news she didn't deem fit to pass on.”

“When I knew Manny he was such a . . .”

“Dork,” Bernie said, finishing Libby's sentence for her.

“I can't picture him doing something like that. I mean the Manny I knew was afraid to keep a library book out late, afraid he would get into trouble.” Libby separated both sides of the macaroon and licked the filling, after which she ate the meringues. It was like eating an Oreo, only better. “What?” she said to Bernie, who was staring at her.

“Nothing,” Bernie said. “I've just never seen anyone do that, is all.”

“Makes it last longer,” Libby explained as she wiped her fingers on a napkin.

“I wonder what made him come back here,” Bernie mused. “I sure as hell wouldn't.”

“This place didn't hold good memories for him for certain,” Sean agreed.

Clyde ate a piece of salami. “I wonder where he was staying.”

“Most of his family is gone,” Sean noted. “They've either moved away or are in the ground.”

“There's old Miss Randall,” Libby said. “Wasn't she his second or third cousin? Something like that.”

“You should go talk to her,” Clyde said to Libby. “See if she knows anything.”

“Thanks a lot,” Bernie said. “Why don't you?” To say Old Lady Randall wasn't grouchy was a little like saying cows don't moo.

Clyde finished off his sweet tea and poured himself another glass. “Because I don't have to.” He raised a hand to keep Bernie from interrupting. “This isn't my case. She wouldn't talk to me anyway. She's never forgiven me for giving her a parking ticket in front of Elwood's General Store.”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Why'd you give her a ticket?”

“Because she was parked smack dab in the middle of the street. Her driving skills have always left a lot to be desired,” Clyde explained in a massive understatement.

“Makes sense,” Libby said. “So what are you going to do while we talk to her?”

Clyde smiled. “Stay here and eat lunch. Talk with your dad about our fishing trip. Show him the fishing pole and tackle box I'm lending him.”

“I didn't know you fished,” Libby said.

Clyde smiled. “It's been a while, but I figured it's time to get back to the ocean before I get too old to hook a big one,” he replied absentmindedly as he contemplated making himself a sandwich.

Chapter 14

D
espite Clyde's suggestion, Libby and Bernie didn't go visit Old Lady Randall immediately. Instead, they decided to go back to the motel first and look for the watch Libby had seen before Bruce Hadley had grabbed her and scared her half to death.

“We should have done this earlier,” Bernie noted as they pulled into the Riverview Motel parking lot. In the daylight, the place looked even shabbier than it did at night, the tattered yellow crime scene tape adding another depressing note to the cracked asphalt, peeling paint, and sagging roof.

“With what time?” Libby demanded. She parked next to the woods. With Bernie's ankle still in rough shape, Libby was the one who was doing most of the driving. “I think I know where I saw it,” she added, turning off Mathilda and getting out of the van.

“I hope it's still there,” Bernie said.

“It will be,” Libby said with more confidence than she felt.

She walked to the place she thought she'd seen the watch and looked around. All she saw was scrub grass, weeds, cigarette butts, a used condom, and a couple of empty cans of Bud. She squatted down and looked more carefully. If the watch was there, she wasn't seeing it. It should be though. Libby was pretty sure this was the spot. She was almost positive she'd been facing the fourth motel room down from the end when Bruce had grabbed her. Which meant either she was mistaken or someone had taken it. Maybe she was wrong about where she'd been standing. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more unsure she became. She felt as if everything from that night was in little fragments and she couldn't put the pieces together.

“The police could have taken it,” Bernie suggested when she limped up to her.

“Possibly,” Libby said. That was the obvious explanation.

“Probably,” Bernie said.

Libby closed her eyes and tried to run the events of that evening through her head again, and again she failed. Everything had been so confusing. She'd seen the watch; she'd been going toward it when all hell had broken loose. There had been the lights, and people yelling, and Bruce grabbing her, and Ellen yelling at him to leave her alone.

Now that she thought about it, she didn't think that anyone else had noticed the watch. They'd been too busy screaming at her. In fact, she was pretty positive they hadn't. So if they hadn't picked it up, that meant the watch should still be here. Unless Bernie was right and the forensics guys had swept the place for evidence, which they clearly hadn't done, because if they had there wouldn't be trash lying around. Of course, she
could
be in the wrong spot.

Libby had just opened her eyes and was doing one last visual sweep of the ground in front of her before she moved on to another area when she sensed someone behind her. So did Bernie. The sisters whirled around at the same time.

A man was standing in back of them. “Do you mind if I ask what you ladies are doing here?” he said.

“Not at all,” Bernie answered.

She put the guy at somewhere between twenty-six and thirty. He was definitely good looking, Bernie would give him that, even if he was a little too preppy for her taste. He looked to be average weight and height. He had regular features, short dark brown hair and hazel eyes, and was neatly dressed in a white polo shirt, a pair of khakis, and a pair of Docksiders sans socks.

Libby was a little less polite. “I'm looking for something, if you must know.”

“Indeed, I must.” The man waggled his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

Libby couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

“And what would that be?” the man continued.

“A watch. I'm looking for a watch,” Libby answered. “Now it's your turn.”

“To what?” the man asked.

“To introduce yourself.”

He made a deep bow. “I am the Joker.”

Bernie couldn't help smiling. “Funny you don't look like him.” She took a step forward. “Seriously, who are you?”

The man grinned. “Who are you?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question?” Bernie asked.

The man's grin grew wider. “Do you?”

Bernie laughed. “Okay. You win. I'm Bernie Simmons.” She gestured to Libby. “And this is my sister, Libby. Now it's your turn.”

“Not a problem.” He gave a small bow. “My name is Cole Webster and I'm in charge of this place. At least for the moment.”

“Where's Isaac?” Libby asked.

Cole smiled. “Where do you think?”

“Fishing,” Bernie promptly answered.

Cole grinned. “The lady wins the prize.”

“How long is he gone for?” Bernie asked.

“A while. He and Mina are somewhere out in Alaska. Some small town, somewhere. Mina had a heart attack recently.”

Bernie put her hand to her mouth. “Oh no.”

“It's nothing serious. Just a minor one. But they decided to take a break. They're even talking about catching a cruise from Anchorage down the inland passage.”

Bernie raised an eyebrow. “A cruise? I can't picture either of them doing that. They never sit still.”

“I know.” Cole suppressed a yawn. “Sorry about that, but I haven't gotten much sleep recently. I guess it's a case of ‘gather ye rosebuds while ye may,' and all that stuff. I'm Mina's cousin,” Cole said by way of explanation.

“You don't look like her,” Bernie observed.

“Distant cousin,” Cole explained. “My parents moved to Seattle years ago and I'm back East trying to reconnect with everyone. I was visiting Mina and Isaac when Mina had her attack, and it just so happened that an opportunity for a good trip came up and I convinced them to take it.”

“That was nice of you,” Libby said.

Cole swatted at a bee buzzing by. “No. It's nice
for
me. This is total self-interest. Isaac and Mina are the ones doing me the favor. I'm between jobs and this is perfect.”

Now the bee was buzzing around Libby's face. “What do you do?” she asked, taking a step back.

Cole grinned. Bernie noticed that his teeth were perfect. “I'm embarrassed to say.”

“Try me,” Bernie said.

Cole kicked at a pebble and sent it flying into the woods. “It's just such a cliché.”

Bernie and Libby waited.

“Okay. Fine,” Cole said, looking them in the eye. “I used to be a bond trader, but I got laid off, so now I'm trying to write a novel about my experiences on the floor.”

“How's it coming?” Bernie asked.

“Slowly. Very slowly.” Cole waved his arm around in a gesture that encompassed the Riverview and the nearby woods. “This is ideal for me. Lots of free time. Nowhere to go. No more excuses. But I'm really glad about one thing. I'm glad I was here for that . . . thing . . . that happened. I would hate for Isaac to have to deal with that.”

“Have you told him?” Libby asked.

Cole shook his head. “Communication is hard where he is, and I figured if I told him he'd insist on coming back, and there's really no need to do that. Do you think I'm wrong?”

Bernie shook her head. “No. I don't.”

“Good.” Cole rubbed his hands together. “So what can I do for you two ladies?”

“We're looking for a watch,” Libby said, and she explained why they were.

He pointed to his wrist. “Is this it?”

Libby studied it. “Maybe. I can't be sure.”

“Because I dropped it the other day when I was picking up the trash.” Cole gestured toward the woods with his hand. “But look if you want.”

Libby demurred. She felt slightly foolish. “That was probably it.”

Cole scratched his chin. “That was really quite something.”

“It was awful,” Bernie said.

“So you saw him?” Cole asked.

“Unfortunately. Ellen called me when she found him.”

Cole took a deep breath and let it out. “She seemed like such a nice lady too. I never would have thought she would have done something like that.”

Bernie corrected him. “She is a nice lady and she didn't do that.”

Bernie decided that her tone must have been fiercer than she thought, because Cole took a step back, put up his hands, and said, “Whoa. I hope if I get into trouble one day I have a friend like you.”

“You registered her that night?” Libby asked.

“Well, yeah.” Cole gave her an are-you-kidding-me? look. “Of course I did. I'm the only one around at night. I do registrations, maintenance, the whole deal. The only thing I don't do is clean the rooms—not that there are that many to clean these days. Lucky that I pay Maria on a per room basis.” He shook his head. “She already told me she's not cleaning up the dead guy's room when they release it—not that I blame her.”

Bernie leaned against a birch tree to take the weight off her foot. “So what did Ellen say when she registered?”

Cole shook his head. “Nothing really. She said she wanted a cabin on the end. She said she was doing something to surprise her husband.”

“That's one way of putting it,” Libby said dryly.

“If you say so,” Cole replied.

Obviously Cole hadn't heard about the ransom note yet
, Libby thought.

“She paid in cash,” Cole continued. “I gave her the key, then I went in the back to take a nap. I was up late the night before writing,” Cole explained. “Next thing I know, the cops are knocking on my door, telling me to stay put and not go out. That they have a possible kidnap situation going on. I don't mind telling you they practically scared the bejesus out of me.”

“I can imagine,” Libby said.

“Then, when I found out that there was a dead guy and the dead guy was Mano . . .” Cole bit his lip and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Boy, talk about truth being stranger than fiction. I couldn't have written that. No one would believe it. They'd say it was too much of a coincidence.”

“Mano?” Libby said.

“Yeah. The dead guy. That's what he told me his name was. I figured it was short for Manolo, even though he didn't look Spanish. But these days you never know.”

“You met him?” Bernie asked, confused.

“Yeah. He used to come by sometimes, maybe once or twice a week. We'd sit, have a couple of beers, play some chess.” Cole looked at the girls. “You two look odd. Did I say something wrong?”

“This guy was big, had a full beard, an earring?” Bernie asked.

“That's him. Why? What's going on?”

“I'm just surprised is all,” Libby said, a puzzled expression on her face. “The dead guy's name was Manny, Manny Roget.”

“Maybe,” Cole said, “but that's not how he introduced himself to me when he came by to see Isaac.”

“Did he give you his last name?” Bernie asked.

Cole shrugged. “Nope. Of course, I didn't ask either. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. It didn't occur to me to.”

“What did he want to see Isaac for?” Libby asked.

“Well, Mano told me he wanted to apologize to Isaac for all the trouble he caused back in the day. Said he'd finally worked up the courage to talk to him, but when he came by, Isaac was at the ER with Mina and I was holding down the fort. I told him I'd relay the message, which I did.”

“What did Isaac say?” Bernie asked.

Cole ran his hand through his hair. “Not much really. I think he was too worried about Mina to process what I was telling him. Mano came back a couple of days later, but Isaac was taking Mina to the hospital for some tests so he missed him again. Anyway, he and I got to talking and it turned out that we both liked to play chess, so we got in the habit of playing once or twice a week.” Cole paused for a moment before continuing. “I mean, he seemed like a nice guy. In a way I had to admire him.”

“How so?” Bernie asked.

“He bottomed out, and then he pulled himself together.”

“Bottomed out?” Libby asked.

“He told me he had some drug problems and then he was on some heavy head medicine. It was something I could relate to. The drug part, that is. After I lost my job, I kinda went off the deep end for a while. Course not as bad as Mano. I never tried meth, thank heavens. But the point is he straightened himself out. Next thing on his agenda was losing all the weight he had gained. He was embarrassed by that. He told me he used to be really skinny.”

“He was,” Libby said.

“But,” Cole continued, “I guess if you're addicted to something it's better to be addicted to junk food than some of the other stuff that's out there.” Cole patted his belly. “Fortunately, I've never had a problem in that direction. Live healthy, live long, I say.”

“Do you know how long Manny has been back in Longely?” Bernie asked.

Cole scratched his ear. “Not really. Maybe nine months. Maybe a year. Maybe less. Obviously, I'm not really sure.” He glanced down at his watch. “Oops. How time flies when you're having fun. Gotta go, ladies, the plumber is going to be here any minute and I have to talk to him about the leaky toilet in unit seventeen, but come back and visit whenever you want to.” He grinned. “I can always use the company.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” Libby noted as she and Bernie walked back to the van. “Good looking too.”

“Too clean cut for my taste,” Bernie commented, painfully climbing back into the van. She wished her ankle would heal already. “I'm not a big fan of preppy.”

“No kidding,” Libby rejoined.

The two sisters spent the rest of the drive over to Miss Randall's house dissecting what Cole had told them. When they arrived, they weren't any closer to knowing anything relevant than they had been before they spoke to him.