Bad Reputation, A (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

I also didn't know if I was pregnant, so Monday morning, while Jerry was downstairs making breakfast, I called the doctor's office and made an appointment.

“We can see you this morning,” the secretary said. “How about eleven-thirty?”

I was surprised until I remembered this was Celosia, not Parkland, and getting a doctor's appointment was not as difficult. “That sounds fine, thank you.” I hung up. Good, I thought. That's it. No more putting this off. Find out today and deal with it. Then my phone rang. It was Billie.

“Madeline, you lucky thing. There's a Baubles and Beads party today on Burberry Lane in Ash Grove. Let's go.”

“Perfect,” I said. “What time?”

“It's at noon. It's a luncheon party type thing. Does that work for you?”

Noon. Well, of course it would be at noon today. “Yes, that works. See you there.” Hmm, so much for putting things off. I called and cancelled the doctor's appointment, feeling a little sense of relief at postponing the baby news once again.

Jerry had eggs over easy and bacon arranged artistically on one of our best plates, which he handed to me.

I sat down and took a napkin from the holder. “Getting an early start on the weekend?”

“You know, I'm really excited about it. Thanks for mentioning it to Deely.”

“You need to share your talent with the world.”

He fixed his plate and sat down. “Are we continuing the letter hunt today?”

“Maybe for a little while this morning. Billie called to let me know about a jewelry show at noon.”

“Are you going in disguise?”

“I may wait until things are going and then slip in unannounced. I want to see Bea in action.”

After breakfast, we drove into town and resumed our letter search, but once again the mind-numbing amount of paper defeated us. Around ten-thirty, I took Jerry home and arrived at Billie's a little early so we could visit.

She met me at the door. Her whole outfit glittered from her rhinestone headband to her bedazzled shoes. “I'm so excited to be part of your sting operation. How are we going to play this?”

“We aren't going to con anyone, Billie. I just need a look at Bea.”

“You can see her any time you want in Celosia, can't you?”

“Yes, but I have reason to believe this is a different Bea.” We sat down in her living room, and I explained what I'd learned so far. “Jerry and I saw her jewelry collection, but no one else in town has any idea she makes such fabulous creations. I want to know why.”

“So do you want me to pretend to be a buyer from New York, or maybe a Hollywood producer who wants to do a story on her and her humble beginnings?”

“No, I'm going to ask her.”

“That's no fun.”

“You can pretend to be someone else if you like. That's what Bea is doing.”

***

It was indeed a different Bea, a very different Bea, the classy refined version, all in black, with severe makeup and her hair slicked back. The jewelry had been amazing in her dark upstairs room. Here in the host's living room on a long table covered with black velvet it was a dazzling fireworks display of shapes and colors. I recognized the yellow spikes and the frosty chunks of glass, the red pendant Jerry had admired, and the green and coral bracelet. Among the other pieces were silver necklaces as elaborate as spider webs, bronze pieces studded with turquoise, and pearls caught in little silver baskets and strung on long silver chains.

Bea saw me and stiffened. “What are you doing here?”

“A friend invited me. These are wonderful, Bea. I didn't know you made jewelry.”

“Thank you. And I'll thank you not to say anything to anyone in Celosia.”

“Why not? There are some necklaces here that could be framed and hung in the gallery.”

“Certainly not! This is a business, nothing more. I have my own separate artwork, as you well know.”

So she was truly blind to her jewelry's artistic worth. “I won't say anything, but I'm curious why you don't want people to know. It's gorgeous stuff. Don't you think they'll like it?”

“Of course they'll like it. But I'm not ready to show it to them.”

This seemed odd, but maybe she was planning a big jewelry show to impress everyone. Another woman called her away, so I wandered the room, admiring the jewelry and catching bits and pieces of conversation. Most of the women were trying on the necklaces and bracelets and checking themselves out in the little mirrors Bea had provided. I heard a lot of “That looks fabulous on you,” and “You have to buy that.” Then one woman asked, “Bea, when are you going to open a store in Parkland? You'd have no end of customers.”

“I'm looking for the right place,” she said.

“Didn't you check with Olympia Mall?”

“The rent there is too high. I'm happy with my house parties right now.”

It was indeed a party. The hostess had a wonderful array of little sandwiches, fruit pizzas, and tiny cupcakes of all flavors. Billie filled her plate. “Isn't this great? Dinner and a show. I'm getting that coral bracelet, I don't care how much it is.”

“The green one? That is spectacular.”

We took our food to one side of the room where chairs had been set up along the wall. Billie balanced her plate in her lap. “What are you going to buy? I saw you eying that red and silver pendant.”

“It's gorgeous, but I'm here on a mission.”

“Learn anything mysterious?”

“I'm really surprised by Bea's appearance. You should see her in Celosia. She looks like a little old farm woman who's been working in the fields all day.”

Billie indicated her sequined top with its display of bedazzled butterflies and flowers. “Some people prefer to be casual at home. Not me, as you can tell.”

“Yes, but this is a drastic difference, almost as if she's two different people: cranky garden gnome and sophisticated socialite.”

“Maybe she thinks people wouldn't take her seriously as a jewelry designer if she showed up in her overalls and boots.”

“I'm not so sure. When I was more involved with my art, I met a lot of artists who dressed oddly, but their work was so creative and amazing, no one cared what they looked like.”

I watched as Bea talked with the other women, showing them how some of the pieces should be worn, and helping with clasps. Occasionally, she shot me a suspicious look, which I returned calmly. I didn't mind keeping her secret, but I was determined to find out why it was so important.

“I meant to ask you if the police ever caught that Perkins woman,” Billie said.

“I think she got away. But she won't bother you again.”

“She'd better not. Can you imagine having that much nerve? How did Jerry know her?”

“An old friend from Con School.”

“Does he have a lot of those?”

“More than I like. This one in particular wanted him back for more reasons than just to play tricks together.”

“Uh, oh.”

“Jerry didn't see that, of course.”

Billie's laugh made everyone in the room pause for a moment. “Of course! It took him years to figure out he was in love with you.” She lowered her voice. “This Perkins woman isn't going to be a pest about it, is she?”

“You'll never believe how I finally got her to back off.”

“You told her you'd beat her to death with your tiara?”

“I told her I was pregnant.”

Billie almost dropped her plate. “Are you?”

“If I could ever get this case solved, I'm going to find out.”

“Are you excited?”

I'd forgotten that I hadn't seen Billie in a while, and she didn't know all the particulars. “When I was married to Bill, that's all he talked about. I began to realize that was the only reason he'd married me. He wanted a lot of children so he could brag about his masculinity. You can imagine how that turned me off. And there were other reasons the marriage didn't work.”

“But Jerry wants children?”

“Yes, but he doesn't push me. Well, he does, sort of, but in a light-hearted way, and I've come around to the idea. He wouldn't be like Bill, leaving me to take care of everything. He'd really be involved every step of the way. You should see him with the neighborhood kids.”

“Well, good luck, Madeline. You must call me the second you know.”

The jewelry party was still going strong, and the hostess indicated that everyone could stay as long as they liked, but Billie and I left around two. She'd spent all her money, and I wanted to get home.

I thought about stopping by the doctor's to see if they could work me in, but changed my mind. It was as I'd told Billie. I needed to solve this case first.

Chapter Twenty-two

Jerry met me on the porch, offering a bowl full of pretzels. I waved it away. “Thanks, but I'm full of party food.”

“Was Bea happy to see you?”

“Not at all.” I sat down in one of rocking chairs, and Jerry perched on the porch railing. “I should have taken a picture of her. You would be amazed. She looked extremely wealthy and put together. I'll bet she sold over a thousand dollars' worth of her jewelry, and the party wasn't over yet.”

Jerry ate a pretzel and tossed another over the rail to a waiting squirrel. “Any clue as to why she keeps her stuff hidden away?”

“I'm sworn to secrecy. She told me she wasn't ready to show her jewelry to people here. I kind of sympathize. I don't like showing my artwork until I'm satisfied with it. How was your day?”

“I've been on the phone with Deely. I think he's as excited as I am. I called Fred, too, to see if he had a car we could afford. He said to check with Reliant Motors in town. You want to go car shopping?”

“We really ought to find that letter.”

“I know. I'm trying to put off digging through all that paper.”

“It's a pain, but if it will reveal any sort of clue, then I'm willing to shovel through the rest of it.”

The squirrel bravely poked its head over the edge of the porch. Jerry gave it another pretzel. “Have you noticed we're always rooting through heaps of stuff? We hunted all through Tori's attic for that key Nathan needed for his inheritance.”

“The glamorous life of a private eye.” I pushed myself out of the chair. “Let's do it.”

***

As we pulled open yet another file drawer and tackled yet another stack, Jerry amused himself by singing selections from
Oklahoma
interspersed with bits of
The
Ballad
of
Baby
Doe
. Baby Doe made me think of Flora. Once the mystery was solved, she'd be on her way to Palm Beach. Maybe Wendall had left enough money so she wouldn't have to play any more marriage games. Maybe she set this whole thing up so she could live in Palm Beach. Or maybe Pamela was fooling us. Maybe she'd been Big Mike's girlfriend long enough to learn a few tricks. But neither one of these scenarios really worked.

I pulled a piece of paper from the next stack, looked at it, blinked, and looked again. The letterhead read: Daniel Richards and Co. Finally! “Jerry, I think this is it.”

He came over to read the letter with me. The letter was addressed to Pamela Finch and stated that she was permitted to make whatever changes necessary to Building 2619, also known as the Flair For Fashion Dress Shop. It was signed by Daniel Richards, witnessed, and notarized.

“Okay,” Jerry said. “Pamela can fix her shop. Drinks all around.”

“Wait a minute.” The next piece of paper was torn, many of the words faded and difficult to read, but I could see Daniel Richards and Co. at the top, along with a name that jumped out. “Jerry, this is addressed to ‘Dear Mrs. Ricter.'”

“Can you tell what it says?”

I brought the letter over to better light provided by the desk lamp. “Something about purchasing a building. ‘Regret to inform you that another buyer,' then something about other property available. That's Bea's name, though, and the number 2604. What would you like to bet Building 2604 is the gallery?”

“Bea wanted to buy it?”

“And Wendall beat her to it.”

“Hello, motive.”

I took out my cell phone and found Richards' number. “Daniel Junior was going to look through his records for me. Maybe he can double check this.”

“Sorry to have taken so long,” Richards said when I reached him, “but I had to search through several of our lists. Our records show a Mrs. Bea Ricter put in an offer on the building, but Wendall Clarke got his offer in first.”

“Building 2604, the former Arrow Insurance building?”

“Yes.”

“Would your father have sent her a letter informing her of this?”

“I'm sure he did. I have a copy right here.”

And I had Bea's copy. I had one more loose end to tie up. “Mr. Richards, do your records show that Pamela Finch put in a bid for Building 2604?”

“No, she did not.”

“Thanks.” I hung up. “Pamela's in the clear, but Bea wanted the building, all right, and I'll bet you anything she wanted it for a jewelry store.”

“But didn't you find out she didn't want to sell her stuff in Celosia?”

“I heard her tell someone at the party that the rent at the Olympia Mall was too high. I'm guessing that rent anywhere in Parkland wasn't going to suit her, but here in Celosia, she could have a large building of her own, a big flashy jewelry store, the kind of gesture that thumbs her nose at the entire town. Only Wendall bought it first.”

“What's her letter doing in with all of Pamela's papers?”

“Pamela told me there might be some Art Guild paperwork in all this. Bea used to be secretary for the Art Guild and sent all the papers to Pamela. I'll bet that letter got mixed in with the Art Guild files.”

“What now?”

I folded Bea's letter into my pocket. “We'll give Pamela the letter she's been looking for and just keep quiet about Bea's. I want to see what Bea says about it.”

***

Pamela was so thrilled we had found her letter, I was forgiven for suspecting her of murder. Jerry and I drove to Bea's house. The dark blue Honda wasn't in the drive, but just to make sure, we got out and went to her door. She wasn't home.

Jerry got a good look at Bea's front yard. “Are these the famous bricks? She's got enough to bean everyone in town.”

“Yes, I'm pretty sure there's one missing from around that bush.” I took a closer look. “In fact, there are a couple missing. I wonder what she's planning to smash now?”

“You can ask her. She'll be at rehearsal tonight. We're blocking ‘The Farmer and the Cowman,' and Aunt Eller has a part in that song.”

I frowned. “What I can't figure is where she was hiding Wednesday night. Pamela was in the gallery office, Larissa was in the main gallery. Where was Bea?”

“In the ceiling, listening through the air conditioner vent?”

“That's where you would be, but I seriously doubt she could climb up into the vent. Let's have a look in the gallery.”

***

The police had put a lock on the gallery's back door, but Jerry was able to undo it. The minute we walked in, I knew what I'd overlooked. “Jerry, I forgot about the children's room.”

“There's a children's room?”

“Yes, Bea asked Wendall about it, and he assured her there was a special room in the back for the kids.”

We walked down a short hallway to a small room complete with work tables and child-sized chairs and easels. There was also a large empty closet for supplies. “This is it. This is where she could've been hiding. She would've known Larissa destroyed her artwork. She would've been furious with her, maybe even angry enough to frame Larissa for murder.”

“How did Bea know Wendall was coming to the gallery that night?” Jerry asked.

“Pamela was here, too. She saw Larissa smash Bea's pictures and called Wendall to tell him. Bea could've overheard her.”

“Pamela, Larissa, Bea—the whole town was here.” Jerry shut the closet door. “Did you ever hear Bea confront Wendall about buying the building? I mean, she had to know he was the other buyer. Everyone knew.”

I thought of all the times I'd heard Bea talking with Wendall and recalled there had been an altercation at his reception. “At the reception she said, ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.' At the time, I assumed she was referring to his marriage to Flora. And Wendall said, ‘No hard feelings.'”

“No hard feelings, I got your building, makes sense.”

“Bea said something about how Wendall was going to be sorry. I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, but she may have decided the only way to get the building was to get him out of the way.”

“Didn't she want her work in the gallery?”

“I think she wanted the building more. After all, if she had the building, she could display her artwork along with the jewelry.”

“So, she's mad at Wendall for stealing away her building, and she's mad at Larissa for ripping up her pictures, so she kills Wendall and hopes to pin the murder on Larissa because everyone in town knows how much Larissa hates Wendall. Pretty slick. But exactly how did she do it?”

“With any luck, that's what I'm going to find out tonight.”

***

“The Farmer and the Cowman” song included just about the entire cast. Everyone assembled on stage to go through the song before Evan blocked the scene. I sat in the orchestra pit with Jerry and two musicians who had decided to play for the rehearsal. Technically, the other members of the orchestra didn't have to be there until a week or two before the show opened, but sometimes they liked to get a head start. I recognized the drummer from
The
Music Man
, and the clarinet player was a woman from the garden club.

Evan called for attention. “I'd like everyone to sing the song twice, and then I'll show you your places. We'll work the dance later.”

While the actors were singing, I looked for Bea. I didn't have the best angle from the pit, so I stood up in one corner. There she was, singing along as if she hadn't a care in the world. Maybe she didn't. After the singing and the blocking, Evan told everyone to take a short break while he worked with the dancers. Bea headed for the side door.

“Be right back,” I told Jerry and hurried out of the pit.

I almost missed her. Bea had already gotten into her Honda and zoomed out of the theater parking lot. I hopped into the Mazda and followed her. To my surprise, she headed toward the gallery. She parked in the back parking lot. I went around the block and parked on the street. Then I cautiously made my way to the gallery's back door. It was open. I went inside and slipped into the children's room. I could hear Bea in the main gallery. She was talking on her cell phone.

“I'm at the gallery. Yes, I'll meet you here. Around back. It's unlocked.”

I stepped behind the door as she came down the hall. I could see her waiting by the door. She turned off her phone and took something out of her purse. Not a piece of wood, but another brick.

Someone was going to get a nasty surprise.

I looked around the room for a weapon. One of the little easels was my best choice. I folded it and waited. I didn't have to wait long. From the back windows I could see Larissa coming up to the back door. I knew Bea planned to barrel out and hit her with the brick. Before Larissa had her hand on the door, I stepped out into the hall behind Bea, swung the easel like a baseball bat, and clipped her in the knees. She yowled and fell. The brick landed with a clunk. At the same time, Larissa opened the door and jumped back, startled.

“Bea! What happened? What's going on?”

Bea started up, but I pointed the easel like a sword. “Stay right there.”

Larissa took in the scene, confused. “Madeline what is all this? Bea told me to come. She said she knew who had killed Wendall.”

“She knows who killed Wendall because she did, and she planned to do the same to you.”

Bea growled and attempted to get up. “You're crazy!”

I poked her in the chest with the easel to keep her on the floor. “Then explain the brick.”

She tried to push the easel aside. “What do you want?”

“I think it's more a case of what you want. Let's start with Building 2604.”

“What do you know about that?”

“I know you wanted it. I know you put in an offer, and Wendall Clarke beat you to it. I know you were here Wednesday night when Larissa destroyed your pictures. You overheard Pamela call Wendall, so all you had to do was wait for him here. You took him by surprise, and when he was down, you hit him on the head.”

Larissa stared at her. “My God, Bea! I never knew you hated Wendall so much.”

Bea transferred her angry glare to Larissa. “Not as much as I hated you. How dare you destroy my pictures? You know nothing about art, nothing!”

Oh, there was so much more to it than that, I thought, as Larissa sputtered for a reply. “Larissa,” I said, “Bea didn't hate Wendall. She loved him, didn't you, Bea? Wasn't he your first real love in high school? When you married someone else and then found out you were pregnant, you really hoped it was Wendall's child, didn't you? That's what you really wanted.”

Bea could hardly contain herself. “Ferris is his son!”

“As much as you want that to be true, I don't think it is. And when Wendall refused to acknowledge Ferris and then bought the building out from under you, you felt doubly betrayed.”

Her voice shook with emotion. “Well, of course I did!”

Larissa looked as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Wendall betrayed me, too, Bea, but I never would've killed him. You're insane.”

“Oh, listen to you, Miss High and Mighty Captain of the soccer team! I was just as good as you were!”

I'd heard enough of this. “No more high school! Larissa, do me a favor and call the police.”

***

I expected Bea to put up a fight, but she stayed seated on the floor, scowling, until Chief Brenner and another officer arrived. I told the chief what I'd found out. Bea didn't say anything until the officer hauled her up. Then she said, “I want my lawyer.”

Larissa watched as Bea was escorted out and into a squad car. “She was going to kill me. That's why she said to come alone.”

“I think she planned to knock you over, just like she did Wendall, hit you with the brick, and then hurry back to the theater. The whole cast is there tonight. It would be easy to slip back in and have everyone think she was there the whole time.”