Dying for a Change (17 page)

“
A gun? A little something you forgot to mention?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he studied Tom. “Maybe you’d like to give me a look.”

“
He has a permit.” Nicole’s chin went up and she stood a little straighter.

“
I’m sure he does.” Dan’s expression didn’t get any friendlier “I’d still like a look. And while we’re getting it, why don’t you tell me where you were last night between, oh, let’s say, nine and ten.”

“
He was home with me. All night.” Even I could tell she was lying.

“
Oh, but...” It was the first thing Sharon had said. She clamped her mouth shut like she was sorry she’d let that much escape.

“
But what, Sharon?” Dan looked over at her and it was obvious he expected an answer.

She flushed a little, glanced at Tom, and quickly looked away. “I thought I saw Tom going into the AM PM about nine thirty. Maybe I was wrong.”

“
Was she?” Dan looked Tom, who shook his head.

“
No, she’s right. I ran out for milk, but I wasn’t gone long. And I’d hardly have stopped off to shop if I’d just come from shooting Dottie, now would I?”

“
Sounds like a great alibi to me,” Ray said nastily.

Dan glared at him and Ray backed up a step. “I don’t know what you might do,” Dan said, “but I’d like to see that gun. Let’s go.”

He gestured toward the office door. Tom, Nicole still crunched against his side, headed out onto the street, all of us close behind.

Tom opened the unlocked door of his Jeep Cherokee, slid in, snapped up the lid of the center storage box, and fumbled around inside. The fumbling became more frantic. He looked up at Dan and said numbly, “It’s not here.”

“
Look in the glove box.” Nicole’s voice was shrill, on the edge of panic.

Tom pulled everything out of both places, dumping it all on the seats. No gun. He sat on the edge of the seat, disbelief written all over his face. “It’s gone, the gun is gone,” he kept repeating. “It’s gone.”

Dan had bent over, watching Tom’s frantic search. Now he straightened up and tapped the distraught Tom on the shoulder. “I think we need to continue this conversation at the station.

Nicole made a small mewing sound. Tom said faintly, “Am I under arrest?”

“
You’ll know it when you are.” Dan reached over and took him by the arm. “Right now, we’re going to talk. Come on.”

Sharon and I were left standing on the sidewalk, looking helplessly after their retreating backs. I looked around for Ray, wondering why he hadn’t come out to the car to watch the futile search.

The front door opened and Ray came out, carrying his briefcase and examining his watch.

“
I have a listing appointment.” Self-righteousness oozed from every syllable as he brushed past us.

“
How did you know Tom had a gun?” I inserted myself in front of him as he tried to go around me.

He paused and gave me one of his best condescending looks. “He told me” He sidestepped, clicked the remote that unlocked his Lincoln, climbed in, and roared away.

I felt like throwing rocks at him. My suspicion that he might be our murderer deepened, or maybe I just kept hoping. I turned to Sharon, expecting her to feel as angry as I did, but instead she looked crushed, like old parchment ready to crumble if touched.

“
Oh, are you all right?”

“
No.” Even her voice seemed ready to crumble. “I’m going inside, have a huge cup of coffee, and not answer the phone. At least for a few minutes.”

I followed her through the door, watched her collapse into the chair behind her desk, poured us both very full cups of vile smelling coffee, and let myself down into the chair opposite her.

“
What do you think?” Sharon’s hand trembled a little on the handle of her cup, which she hadn’t even tried to lift.

“
Do I think Tom killed Dottie? Or Hank?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t. Do I think Dan has a case against him? It’s beginning to look like it.”

“
So you think Tom is innocent?” She finally sipped from her coffee cup. It must have done her some good, awful as it was, for color was returning to her face.

“
I know it looks bad. He and Hank fought, Tom admits being on Morning Glory Lane about the time Hank was killed, his fingerprints are on the closet door, you saw him out last night about the time Dottie was killed, but, even if he lost his temper and hit Hank, he’d never shoot Dottie in the back.”

“
Hum.” Sharon sat up a little straighter, absently readjusted the heavy gold necklace she wore over an ivory silk sweater. “If not Tom, who?” She watched me carefully, as if sure I had the answer.

“
I don’t know.” I sighed. “I’d love it to be someone we never heard of, but that’s not possible. Benjamin? Only I can’t think why he’d kill Dottie.” I hesitated before I rushed on. “Ray seems possible.”

“
Ray?” Sharon had been about to take another swallow but set her cup back down on her desk instead. Probably it was an excuse not to drink the awful stuff. “Why Ray?”

“
He seems the most logical,” I was surprised she hadn’t already thought this through. “Hank evidently had some kind of evidence that might get Ray’s license removed. Dottie must have known what that was, and where to find it. Both Hank and Dottie are dead. It’s impossible not to think of Ray.’

“
I see what you mean.” Sharon spoke slowly, as if trying to work it all out. “Only, Tom has the gun.”

“
Not anymore. It’s gone.” I was following a new thought trail. “I’ll bet the police tear Tom and Nicole’s place apart looking for it, but it won’t be there.”

“
What are you saying, Ellen? That someone took Tom’s gun?” She picked up the cup, looked in it, grimaced, and set it back down.

“
It’s possible.” I warmed to my subject as I spoke. “Tom never locks his car. Anybody who knew it was there could have taken it. You--me--anybody. Ray certainly knew about it.” Another thought struck me. “Did Benjamin know about the gun?”

“
I’ve no idea.” Sharon dismissed Benjamin and went on with her own thoughts. “Do you know who Dottie suspected of killing Hank?”

“
No. She never said anything. But she left a message for me to come over to her place last night. She said she had something she wanted to talk about. I did, and that’s when I found her.”

“
She wanted to talk to you? About what?” Sharon looked a little apprehensive, as well she might. One of her agents was practically under arrest for murder, another certainly should be under suspicion, her secretary was dead, as well as her best client. I wouldn’t be apprehensive; I’d be darn near crazy.

“
She didn’t say, but it may have had something to do with that list she left for Hank.”

“
We already talked about the list. What was there for her to say?”

“
This was a different list. It had all the old partners names, then beside some of them, new names. I guess the new partners. Paul Cameron, I remember that one. Is he a new partner?”

“
Yes,” Sharon said slowly, “but I don’t understand. What would Dottie want with that?”

“
I’ve no idea, but the list was in an envelope addressed to Hank. Evidently he wanted it for something.”

“
I can’t imagine what.” Sharon put her hand up to her head and rubbed her temple. She looked around her office, at the stacked files, the pile of message slips, the silent phone. “My head is splitting, and when that blasted phone rings, it won’t be about real estate. It’s going to be either the press or curious clients. I can’t take either right now.” She stood up, pushed several of the files into her briefcase and closed it. “I’m going home and take several aspirin, but no more coffee.” She looked at her still half filled cup and shuddered. “You can stay here if you want. Ray will be back soon. He’ll help you if something comes up you can’t handle. Or put the phones on answering service, whatever you want.”

She left me staring after her, wondering what I should do. The thought of being alone with Ray gave me the creeps, but I somehow felt guilty leaving the office. Besides, where would I go? I started to rub my own temples, wondering if headaches were catching and if Tylenol could cure depression.

The front door opened. I could hear it but couldn’t see who it was from my chair in Sharon’s small office. What if it was Ray? How could I get by without him doing--what? Fear, unreasonable fear, held me rigid. I strained to hear, wondering if I should make a dive for the phone.

“
Is anyone here?”

The voice sounded familiar and very female. I stood up and took a tentative step out into the office. Pat Bennington stared down at Dottie’s empty desk.

“
Oh, Ellen,” she gasped. “You scared me. It’s so quiet in here.”

“
You scared me too.” I found I had to blink back tears. “I’m turning into a nervous wreck.”

“
It’s true then?” Pat spoke softly, her gaze returning once more to the desk. “Someone shot Dottie Fielding in the back last night?”

“
Yes.” I felt the return of the sorrow that had engulfed me earlier that morning. “I found her.”

“
Dear God, Ellen. How horrible.”

Pat’s sympathy was not good for my control. Blinking wasn’t going to keep those tears in check much longer.

“
Who could have done such a thing?” she went on. “Dottie was so — well, she was hardly — Dottie was sweet.”

“
She was,” I agreed, sniffing a little, “but she must have known something about someone.”

Pat examined my face, reached into her pocket and handed me a slightly rumpled tissue. “You look like you need some caffeine therapy. Let’s go to the Yum Yum and get some coffee. You can tell me everything there.”

I already had caffeine surging through every vein, but a good dose of practical, sympathetic Pat was what I needed to take the edge off my jitters.

“
Let me call the service and lock up.” I reached for my keys. Too late. The phone rang.

“
Aren’t you going to answer?” Pat asked me as I stared down at it in dismay. I sighed and picked it up. It was a Mr. Leon Marburger from Stop N Shop, wanting Sharon.

“
I talked with her a couple of weeks ago, telling her I’d be in town for a meeting. I’ll be available tomorrow and would like to see some of the homes she told me about. Would it be possible to make an appointment? I realize our arrangement was somewhat vague, but I really would like to get an idea —you know?”

I didn’t know, but wasn’t about to tell him that. Instead, I made a tentative appointment for the morning, said I’d have Sharon confirm as soon as possible, scribbled a note for Ray, grabbed Pat and fled.

Ruthie loped over the minute she spotted us, perennial coffee pot in hand. Barely acknowledging Pat, she was all over me.

“
Oh, Ellen. We’ve all just heard. What a time you’ve had! I can’t believe what’s goin’ on in this town, and here you are, caught slap dab in the middle.” She waved the pot in our faces. “And Dottie Fielding, of all people. Who’d want to hurt poor Dottie?” There was no answer to that question. Pat and I sat down at an empty table without even trying to provide one. I couldn’t believe Ruthie. I’d met her one time and here she was acting like we were sisters or something. I thought for a moment she was going to hug me, so I kept a close eye on that bobbing pot. Luckily, she used it to fill our cups, then, promising to be right back, trotted off to tend to the needs of other pre-lunch customers.

The buzz of conversation seemed to have fallen off while we were seating ourselves but picked back up. I glanced around. The stares I’d felt seemed to fade away. I looked back at Pat who was sipping her coffee.

“
Yes, they’re all talking about you.” She didn’t try to hide a smile. “After all, Ellen, you can’t be gone for years, return a jaded divorcee, find two dead bodies, get romantically linked with the police chief, and not get talked about. Not in this town anyway.”

Jaded? Me? What romance?

“
What are you talking about?” I was alarmed and a more than a little irritated. “Even in this town women must get divorced, especially if they’re landed with a philandering egotist like Dr. Brian McKenzie. And I’ll happily let anyone who wishes find the next dead body.”

Pat grimaced. “Let’s hope there’s not another one to find. Besides, it’s your romantic link to Dan Dunham that’s making headline news.”

“
What romantic link?” I was getting more indignant by the minute. “Dan and I grew up next door to each other, we were best friends. We’re still friends, nothing more.” I looked around the small room, ready to stare down anyone who looked my way.

“
Small town, Ellen. You can’t stop gossip, especially in this case. Nothing this gruesome has ever happened that I can remember, and everyone has a theory. The only thing they all agree on is you’re right in the middle. Some have you in grave danger because you know something, others think you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a few hint darkly that finding two dead bodies is too much of a coincidence.” Pat smiled broadly at the horrified expression on my face before she went on. “No matter which of the above theories people subscribe to, most have you and Dan half way down the church aisle. I’ve even heard a rumor regarding a reception menu.”

“
You are kidding.” I choked down a mouthful of coffee before I could get words out. “Aren’t you?” I felt like someone had opened a valve and all my wind had rushed out. “People actually think I may be the murderer? Or that Dan and I might--not seriously.”