Geared for the Grave (A Cycle Path Mystery) (24 page)

“Like securing an inheritance?”

“That would work. Got somebody in mind?”

I
was out the door and heading for the police station before Mother was up and the first ferry of the day zoomed across the lake. I truly wanted to avoid Sutter because of the kiss, and I had no idea what to do about it, but I wanted to get Rudy out of jail more. Sutter and I needed to chat. I pulled an organic strawberry smoothie out of my bag and handed it to the desk clerk, Molly. “Is Sutter here?”

“Pissed and in his office.”

I pulled out a chocolate doughnut. One can only take so much healthy food.

Molly’s eyes brightened. “He got a call from the Detroit PD. Seems he was doing more than writing parking tickets back there, and some bad guys are looking for him.”

I headed down the hall, Molly yelling halfheartedly between smoothie slurps and doughnut chomps how I couldn’t go back there. It wasn’t that I liked Huffy all that much—actually, I didn’t like her at all—but she’d been messed over by a crappy guy and I’d been messed over by a crappy guy, so we belonged to the same crappy club and I felt bad for her. Plus I thought she was innocent. She was a mamma and her baby came first. She wouldn’t chance jail.

“Oh good, now you show up, my day’s complete,” Sutter said when I walked in. Huffy was sitting in a chair across from him.

“I don’t think she did it,” I said.

“Thank you, Sherlock Holmes, now you can leave.”

Sutter took my arm, hauling me toward the door as I said, “Can you really see Huffy here knocking off her kid’s grandma, even if it meant she’d get the man of her dreams, who’s actually turning out to be the man of her nightmares?”

“Kid?” Sutter stopped and looked to Huffy as she made the rounded belly sign over her stomach.

Sutter pointed to a plastic bag on his desk. “We found this gray curly wig and crutch in her apartment. She cut Bunny’s bike cable, then dressed up like Rudy to frame him.”

“Let me guess.” I held up my hands. “An anonymous tip put you onto the wig and crutch?”

“This is all Dwight,” Huffy said. “You gotta see that he planted those things to make it look like knocking off Bunny was all my idea and to frame Rudy for it. It’s him getting rid of me and the baby. He wants us out of his life so he can carouse and carry on like he always has. I say we neuter him.”

I was just about to tell Huffy to count me in when the captain barged into the room. “I did it. I’m guilty. I knocked off Bunny and framed Rudy. Sorry about Rudy, but I’m glad Bunny kicked the bucket.”

The captain held out his hands. “Put on the cuffs and let my daughter go. This is no place for the mother of my grandchild.”

A big, sappy smile slid over the captain’s face and he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a baby captain’s hat. “Got this on eBay for ten bucks and it’s just like mine. Cutest thing I ever saw. Draw up anything, Sutter, I’ll sign it. Which way to the cells?”

He turned to me. “By the way, that other bike Rudy ordered came in yesterday and I dropped it at the bike shop on my way here. The bikes you’ve painted look great. If you do one on the ferries, can you put me in? Maybe my hat?”

“You got it,” I said. “Congrats on the baby.”

“That’s it.” Sutter stood up. “I’ve heard that pregnancy makes people crazy; I just didn’t expect it to be contagious. Everybody get out. The Mackinaw Bridge walk starts in one hour and I’ve got to be there. I swear if any of you come near me, I’m throwing you in the lake.”

We all trooped down the hall as Irma came in the station, bandana over her nose and mouth, squirt gun in hand.

Nate asked, “Is there an outbreak of something besides insanity that I should know about, Mother?”

She waved her squirt gun. “It’s a jailbreak, dear.” She held up a basket. “I’m taking Rudy for a picnic. It’s beautiful outside and I’m sure it’s against the law on this particular island to keep someone in jail over a holiday.” She shot Nate, a stream of water splattering across his front. “I’m getting pretty good with this thing, so don’t give me any sass.”

Nate held up his hands. “This isn’t over. Somebody killed Bunny.”

Irma patted his cheek. “Of course they did, dear. But it’s not Rudy; we all know that.”

When I got back to the bike shop, Mother had left a note saying that she and Angelo were doing the bridge walk. In Chicago the only bridge Mother ever mentioned was her bridge club and walking was boring exercise on a machine.

Abigail sent me a text asking about my Labor Day celebration plans on the island and that she was thinking about visiting, making me think the girl was having a breakdown. I hadn’t even been sure she knew what a weekend was. That she said she wanted to visit nearly gave me a heart attack. To try and keep her in Chicago, I sent her an
All is terrific here
text and a picture of the bikes I had painted. Just when I thought I’d have her out of my life, she wasn’t? What was going on with Rudy’s daughter?

I opened the shop to get ready for the day. I rented out all my themed bikes before noon. I needed to sketch up more ideas and get painting. Maybe Rudy’s Rides could sponsor a bike parade next year and tie it in with the Lilac Festival. Great promo. Maybe I should tell Abigail that and she’d see I was on top of things and she’d stay the heck away?

I unboxed the folding bike that the captain had dropped off and screwed on the pedals and seat. Sutter was right about one thing—someone did knock off Bunny. The problem was I had no idea who, and Rudy was still suspect number one, with the cutters found in his kitchen.

Someone was playing me, and I was falling for it. Speed, maybe? He gave me that no-body spiel, but I wasn’t buying it. He hated Bunny, he had a lot to lose if she blabbed and he wanted Rudy’s Rides. Then again, Bourne had a lot to lose if Bunny blabbed, and disguise was his specialty. He could have easily dressed up like Rudy to do the deed.

Fiona dropped off anniversary strawberry cream cake from the Clarkstons’ party, along with the latest on her old boss, Peephole Perry, who had apparently peeped on the wrong person and was now on the lam. As long as he didn’t lam here, Fiona didn’t care what happened to the sleazebag. I draped two bike locks over the handlebars as a little present for Ed and his new purchases so the bikes wouldn’t get stolen when he and Helen the horrible took them out. I put a
Be back in thirty
sign on the front door and headed for the docks. I wrangled with the dock master again about making a delivery and not robbing everyone, then made my way to
Helen’s Heaven
. Boats? I took a steadying breath, willed myself not to lose my lunch, then lifted the bike on board. I started to leave, then spotted a bank of angry clouds off to the west. It probably wouldn’t rain till the evening, but I had no idea if Ed would visit his boat today or not, and I didn’t want to leave a new bike in the rain. I had on the same jeans from last night, so I pulled out my handy-dandy file and bobby pin and unlocked the cabin door. I was getting pretty good at this, even on a queasy stomach.

The inside of the boat was as pristine as the outside . . . if you liked boats. There was a spotless white sofa, cobalt blue club chairs, a white kitchen area and a coral dining area. Helen had expensive taste. I parked the bike in the kitchen, grabbed paper from the drawer to write Ed a note saying that I hoped he would enjoy the folding bike—and stopped dead. Right there next to the pens was a packet of cigars—cheap cigars, with one missing. Ed hated cigars. And there was a wig jammed in beside it. Maybe it was to tease Rudy? Except I’d never seen Ed tease Rudy. They were pals, but not joke-around kind of pals. They were buddies . . . or were they?

Barely breathing, my stomach rolling for more reasons than seasickness, I opened one, two then three closets and found a crutch leaning against the side, a crumpled white suit jacket hung next to it, a saw on the floor.

“Running off to Tahiti?” Sutter said, clambering down the steps as I came back into the main room. “The dock master called and said somebody was picking a lock on one of his boats and the last time she was here, she was covered in white paint and . . . Whoa, this time you’re green.”

I took Sutter’s hand and led him to the drawer with the wig and the cigars. “There’s a crutch and white wrinkled suit jacket in the bedroom. What is going on? Or maybe nothing’s going on and it’s me overreacting? We both know I do that sometimes, well, maybe a lot of the time, and you already found a wig and crutch at Huffy’s, except we know Huffy didn’t kill Bunny. But why would Ed frame Rudy for murder?”

The step creaked, and Ed and Helen were framed in the doorway, a gun in Ed’s hand. “Don’t do it,” he said to Nate as he reached for his own gun. “You might be faster than me, but I bet I can put a bullet in Chicago here before you get one off. Put your gun on the floor real easy and kick it over to me, and don’t dirty the carpet, we just had it cleaned. The dock master called and said someone was breaking into our boat and that you were here too. We figured you were up to no good.”

“That dock master knows we’re all out here,” Sutter said in a low, even voice, like someone who’d had a gun pointed at him before.

Helen smirked. “Four of us go out for a little sail and two come back. Everyone knows how you and this girl here are always at each other. A little shoving match and you just happened to fall overboard and we couldn’t save you.”

“Hold on,” I said in a high, shrill voice, like someone who’d never had a gun pointed at her. “This is crazy. Why frame Rudy for Bunny’s death?” I turned to Ed. “He’s your best friend.” My eyes shot wide open, my stomach doing a double flip. “And you’re going to make this boat move?” I felt light-headed and gagged and stumbled against the wall, knocking off a row of family pictures of
Helen’s Heaven
, the good times.

Nate grabbed my arm. “Take a deep breath.”

I stared at the floor, trying not to lose my lunch. My head cleared, and I picked up one of the pictures. “I . . . I know this guy from Chicago. He runs an ad agency—one of Abigail’s competitors. In fact, he and Abigail are both pitching to a client next week. That’s why she sent me here and she didn’t come and . . . and . . .”

“And this has nothing to do with Bunny or Rudy,” Nate said. “This is about money and business, isn’t it, Ed?”

Ed scowled. “This is about family. Ed Junior needs this next contract—
we
need it—and the only way for that to happen is to get Abigail out of Chicago. All of our money is tied up in the agency and Junior is running it into the ground. No one pitches a project like Abigail. She worked for me—I taught her all she knows.”

“And she’s kicking Junior’s butt,” I said, starting to put it all together. “You’re the one who cut Rudy’s step when you were acting like you were doing repairs. You wanted him to break his leg, thinking that would get Abigail here.”

“And instead, you showed up with paint cans,” Ed hissed.

“So you upped the stakes and killed Bunny and pinned it on Rudy,” Sutter said. “For sure that would get his daughter to come.”

“That nosy Bunny saw Ed cutting the step and started to blackmail him,” Helen added. “We had to put an end to that, and framing Rudy for the murder knowing Mira and her telescope would see the whole thing was a perfect fit. Even if Rudy is Ed’s friend, it couldn’t be helped. Bunny would be gone and Abigail would come to the island, and by all rights it should have worked,” Helen fumed. “Whoever heard of putting a body on ice for a week? It’s indecent. And then Chicago here bonded with Rudy and started hunting for the murderer. You’re not very good, you know.”

“Couldn’t be too bad,” I said. “You pushed me in the lake to get rid of me.” I drew in a sharp breath. “That was supposed to be Mother.”

“We figured her sharing space with Bunny might dampen your enthusiasm a bit.”

I jumped up, ready to commit murder of my own, and Sutter pulled me down. “Easy, girl.” He gave me a hard look. “I sure could use some of your fried green beans about now.”

“We’re dying, and you’re thinking food? Men! And did you have to mention fried?” I burped.

“Fried green beans that I steal from you all the time by . . .” Sutter jabbed me in the ribs.

By distracting me and getting my attention on something else,
I finished to myself.

“Shut up, you two.” Helen turned to Ed. “We’ll tie them up and get going before that dock master comes over here to see what’s going on.”

“I’m going to be sick.” I stood up, leaning over the white couch. “Those blueberries for breakfast didn’t sit too well.” I gagged.

“Blueberries?” Helen shrieked. “For God’s sake, move.”

I hunched my shoulders, gagged and didn’t budge. Helen rushed for me, Sutter dove for Ed, pinning him against the wall, and I tackled Helen to the floor. I picked up a framed picture of Ed Junior, the happy years, and whacked her over the head. “That’s for Mother,” I yelled at Helen. Then I whacked her again.

Sutter snagged me by the back of my shirt, bringing me beside him, gun in hand. “Well done, Evie Bloomfield.”

“I wasn’t kidding about the blueberries.” I headed for the steps, then turned back. “Say it. After all this time, I gotta hear it.”

I got a half smile from Sutter. “Rudy didn’t kill Bunny.”

And that made me smile. “So, are you staying around here or leaving?”