It's a Wonderful Knife (12 page)

“You were taking a picture of me. I want to know why.”

How could he see me? I thought that was a one-way window!

Wrong again, Trixie.

He kept flexing his hands into fists. Because he wore black leather gloves, it looked like he had on boxing mitts. I could smell cigarette smoke clinging to him and his clothes, and his teeth were yellow. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in a couple of days.

I swore, if he punched me and my temporary cap flew off . . .

“Look, Roger, I love the snow, and the sun was glinting off the snow just right, so I thought I'd take a picture,” I lied.

“There's no sun out there.”

“There was for a while.” More lies, and during the holiday season, too.

He swore under his breath. “Look, I don't want to get involved with another . . . I mean, I . . .”

He shook his head and turned with a squeak of his boots, and I let what he'd said sink in. Roger must've been involved with Liz! I wondered what he meant by “involved,” though. Romantically? Business-wise?

I guessed I'd have to find another way to get a picture of Mr. Congeniality and find out how involved he and Liz actually had been.

As I looked around for something to do—anything—I decided to take a little stroll down the hall to the ladies' room and eavesdrop at the parlor door. Why not see if I could hear what Ty was talking to the Robinsons about?

I was extra-careful to make sure that my crutches didn't make any noise, so slowly I went down the hall, stopping at the thick brown oak door.

I could hear Ty's deep voice. “I'm impounding Liz's
car. Someone from Clem's Garage will hook it and take it to the impound lot. They're apparently short of help, so I don't know when they'll move it. I'm going to be taking her computer with me when I leave. Now, what about yours, Darlene?”

“Oh, no! Liz never, ever used my computer.” She sounded stressed and a little too loud. “It only has my things on it, and I need it all.”

“Sorry, Darlene. I'll bring it back as soon as possible,” Ty said.

“But I have a church to run!” said Darlene.

“My dearest, don't you mean that
we
have a church to run?”

“Of course, Fritz,” she shouted, then lowered her voice. “Of course that's what I meant.”

The usually good-natured Darlene was showing another side of her personality, and I wondered what about Ty's taking her computer was making her so anxious.

“Pastor Fritz, what about your computer?” Ty asked.

“I don't own one.”

“Thank goodness for Liz when you had her! Right, Pastor?” Ty asked.

Pastor Fritz chuckled. “Exactly.”

“I'd also like to talk to Roger,” Ty said. “Is he around?”

“No. He's not,” Darlene said quickly. “He went to the hardware store for a few things he needed.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to yell that he was out front shoveling snow, but that would give away my spying.

I meant my accidental overhearing.

“I think that's all for now. Thank you for your time. See you tomorrow for auditions.”

Oops. I knew I needed to disappear. I made my way farther up the hall to the ladies' room, then turned when I heard the parlor door opening. That way, it would look like I was returning from the ladies' room.

“Hello, Trixie,” Pastor Fritz gushed over me, shaking my hand and then hugging me to him. “Here's my sweet volunteer!”

I didn't think anyone had ever called me
sweet
in my entire life.

Ty raised his eyebrows. I could tell he suspected I was eavesdropping.

Darlene shooed away Pastor Fritz. “Let her walk, Fritz. You'll knock her over.”

We all walked to the front of the building. I turned left and the Robinsons saw Ty out.

Missing in action was Mr. Congeniality as well as the church's van.

As I sat back down in my chair and waited for Darlene to return to give me something to do, I couldn't help wondering whether Darlene actually thought that Roger was at the hardware store or if she was lying to Ty for some reason.

If she was lying, what, if anything, did Roger know that Darlene didn't want Ty to know?

•   •   •

Just after Ty packed up the two corn silos, the Robinsons sent me packing, too. Ty volunteered to drop me off at the Big House.

“If you can stand being in the same car as me,” he said. “I might arrest you again.”

“Seems like I don't have a choice, since I'm being kicked to the curb by the Robinsons.”

But I was over Ty's arresting me. Well, maybe not.

The only one at the Big House was Antoinette Chloe. She was cleaning the kitchen, which looked like a flour factory explosion.

According to her, Aunt Stella, the Boca Babes, Ray, and Bob had left to set up the bridal shower for Louise McDowney.

“How did everything turn out?” I asked.

“Perfect. The appetizers turned out beautiful, and Bob certainly knows what he's doing with the roast. The Christmas cookies looked . . . well, Christmasy, and Juanita decorated the rum cakes with red and green maraschino cherries, dusted grapes, and whipped cream. You should have seen it. I took pictures.”

“Got any extra cookies?” Ty asked, bending over to pet Blondie, who had swooned at his feet, turning over on her back for him to rub her belly.

For heaven's sake, Blondie!

ACB crossed her arms. “I don't know if we have extra cookies. Are we speaking to you?”

Ty nodded, grinning. “Yes, you are.”

She looked at me for clarification, and I shrugged, deciding to continue the teasing. “Well, he's a
neighbor, and we've been friends a long time. He's also my best customer at the Silver Bullet. I guess we can feed and water him. We've done it forever. Why stop now?”

“It still goes against my better judgment.” ACB unstuck her eyelashes with an index finger. “Anyway, we have dozens and dozens of cookies left, Ty. The Boca Babes got carried away. Finally I had to unplug the mixers.” She laughed. “Both of you, sit down, and I'll get them. The coffee is fresh, too.”

“I wish I could do something to help you,” I said, collapsing into an oak chair at the table. It felt good to sit down after the exhausting walk from the car on a snowy sidewalk and up the slippery stairs.

Still, it was difficult for me to sit while someone waited on me, and I didn't realize I'd sighed until Ty called me on it.

“Hard day at work, Trixie?” Ty asked sarcastically.

“The two hours I was there? Yes, it was grueling.”

“Are you going back tomorrow?”

“Of course. I should be busy,” I said confidently, even though there weren't any computers there.

“I don't know about that. Pastor Fritz told me to let you know that you won't be needed.”

“He did?”

Ty helped ACB by bringing the coffee mugs to the table, and sat down opposite me. “Uh-huh. When we were loading the computers into my car.”

“Why didn't he tell me himself?”

He chuckled. “I think he's scared of you.”

“Very funny, Deputy Brisco.”

ACB set down a Christmas platter piled high with an extraordinary assortment of beautifully decorated cookies. Sitting down, she crossed her arms. “Tell me, Ty, how was
your
day?”

“Passable.”

“Did you make any headway on your investigation?” she asked.

“Not really.”

“Are you going to check further into Roger Southwick? I just have a bad feeling about that guy,” I said.

“Yes. I know your feelings about him. He isn't sociable, and that is a capital crime in your book.”

“He doesn't take off his boots either. He should have a working knowledge of winter etiquette, unless he's not from New York.” I baited Ty to see if he'd tell me if Roger was a native New Yorker.

“Doesn't take off his boots?” Ty snorted. “That's a hanging offense in Sandy Harbor!”

“It shows politeness, and Roger Southwick just isn't polite.”

“Yeah, but can you see him plunging a knife into Liz Fellows?” ACB asked.

I thought for a while, then nodded. “If she ticked him off enough. The man seems to have a short fuse.”

Ty looked thoughtful.

“I don't know if he seems to be the type to toss Liz's home. Is he?” I knew that Ty would have run a rap sheet by now.

“You know I can't tell you that,” he said.

“Did Roger and Liz have a relationship?” I asked.

“You know I can't tell you that either.”

“Are you going to search his residence?” I asked.

He took another cookie and studied it. “I have no reason to get a search warrant on anyone's residence at this time.”

That sounded like a press release.

“Ty, he was on the grounds shoveling when Darlene told you he was at the hardware store. It crossed my mind that she didn't want you talking to him.”

“Were you eavesdropping, Trixie?” Ty asked. “I don't remember you being present when this was discussed.”

“I must have been,” I mumbled, “or how else would I know this?”

“Just what I was wondering myself.” He raised both eyebrows.

Roger was going to be my next project. I was going to find out if he had a relationship with Liz or not.

First, I was going to find out where Roger Southwick lived and where he came from. He wasn't from Sandy Harbor.

I knew that there were at least three apartments located near where the Robinsons lived. They were built for visiting religious dignitaries or for people in need. I also knew that there was a separate door leading to this area off the back entrance.

I would've bet my recipe for rum cake that Roger lived in one of those apartments.

If I could find the right opportunity, I might just find the key and check out Roger Southwick's apartment.

And I'd had a scathingly brilliant idea earlier. The Community Church needed a couple of laptops as a
donation, and I was going to donate them. That would get Darlene back on the project Liz started and give me an excuse to hang around and help.

I'd phone Ray when Ty wasn't around, give him my credit card, and tell him to get two laptops that were just like Liz's. Thank goodness I remembered to take down the make and other details before Ty had taken it away.

There was banging on the door, and Antoinette Chloe jumped up to answer it, still talking to Ty as she walked to the door.

“Oh my!” I heard her say. “Won't Trixie be surprised?”

“What? Who?”

There was a lot of shushing and whispering, and I was on the edge of my seat.

When they walked into my kitchen, I burst into tears.

It was Rose and Jack Matkowski.

My parents!

“M
om . . . Dad . . . what are you doing here?” I asked, giving and receiving hugs.

“We got a call that you needed some help,” Mom said. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“I'm okay. I wish I could do more, but luckily I have help. Aunt Stella is here with her friends from Boca, and my staff is doing double and triple duty. And the missing Bob has returned. He's been invaluable.”

“Fabulous! It'll be great to see Stella,” my dad said. Aunt Stella was his sister-in-law.

I was glad to see them but hated that they'd interrupted their retirement in Tucson. They were entrenched in the culture of the over-fifty-five crowd in Cactus Wheels, a motor home community: golf, pickle ball, rallies, potluck dinners, dances, and more.

They loved it there.

“Who called you?” I asked.

“Clyde,” Dad said. “We have an agreement that if anything happens to you, he will call me.”

“Oh? I hope he's not calling you a lot,” I said.

“Let me just say that you've been very busy!” He wagged his finger at me. “How about some introductions, Trix?”

“Where are my manners? I was just so excited to see you both!” I hadn't seen them since Uncle Porky's funeral about three years ago.

“You might remember Ty Brisco. He's a deputy sheriff here. He used to camp in cottage six with his father and grandfather and fish nonstop.”

They both shook hands. “I couldn't pick you out of a lineup, Ty. You've grown a bit!”

My mother reached up to hug him. “I remember you. You loved root beer and pepperoni.”

He laughed. “That was me.”

“And, Mom and Dad, you remember Antoinette Chloe Brownelli. She goes by the name of Brown now. Since I moved here, she's been a great friend.”

“I know your mom and dad. Sal, my ex, and I used to double-date with them all the time,” ACB said.

I'd forgotten that ACB and my parents were about the same age.

“I am sorry about Sal's incarceration,” Mom said.

ACB grunted. “Don't be. He tried to kill me.”

Thank goodness she hadn't mentioned that Sal had tried to kill me, too, or my folks would never leave my side, no matter what my age was.

My mom put her arm around Antoinette Chloe. “I heard about that. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay.” She sniffed. “But I'm getting along fine. Trixie and I have had many fun adventures together.”

“Too many,” Ty added sarcastically.

ACB gave him a pointed look that meant
not in front of her parents.
Then she turned to me. “I'll clear my
things out of the front bedroom and get the room ready for your parents.”

I'd never thought of that! With the Busy Boca Babes staying there and Aunt Stella, where was I going to put my parents?

“We won't hear of it!” Mom said. “We drove up in our motor home. We'll stay in that.”

Dad nodded. “Forty-five feet of bliss with all the conveniences of home on eight wheels. It's parked in the parking lot in front of the house. Is that all right, Trixie?”

I remembered another motor home parked out there not too long ago. I shuddered, but then dismissed the thought.

“Perfectly fine, Dad.”

“Great. Now what can we do to help you out?” he asked.

“Nothing right now. Aunt Stella and the Busy Boca Babes are at a bridal shower that I had scheduled. The only thing that needs to be done, and we can do it tomorrow night, would be fresh salads and an entrée for the ongoing Christmas pageant auditions at the Community Church.”

I looked at my mother. “It was already prepared once, but it went to another event.”

“Why? What do you mean?” Mom asked.

“I'll tell you over some tea and Christmas cookies,” I said. “If there are any left after Ty gets through.”

I put on a stern expression, but I actually loved it that he enjoyed coming over and eating. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and
Ty's stomach was flat. And when he ran without his shirt on, I could see rock-hard abs. And then there were the muscles in his arms, and when he . . .

But I didn't notice.

Ty stood. “That's my cue to leave. I have a lot of things to do. Nice to meet you both.” He shook hands with my father and gave my mother a kiss on the cheek. “See you both later.”

My mother watched him go, and I just knew what she was thinking. “He's a nice young man, Trixie. Is he available? I didn't see a ring.”

Of course my mother would notice that.

I shook my head. I was still shell-shocked from my divorce from Deputy Doug of the Philly sheriff's department.

“We're just friends,” I said.

My mother looked at ACB for verification, but she was busy slathering on Entrenched in Scarlet, a new lipstick that she'd wanted me to try, but it was way too . . . scarlet.

“They're just good friends,” she said as she wiped some lipstick off her teeth. “But sometimes I think that Ty wants to be more.”

Since when did she think that?

Was it true? My heart did a little flip in my chest, or maybe it was just too much coffee.

But ACB's statement was like waving a checkered flag at Indy. My mother was off and running.

“Isn't that nice?” Mom said, practically singing the words. “A new relationship would be good for you, Trixie.”

“Antoinette Chloe,” I said to change the subject. “Can I bother you to put on another pot of coffee for my parents?” I turned to them. “Would you like something to eat? I could order from the diner and have Ray bring it over. I need to talk to him anyway.”

“Sounds lovely. I've been dying for Juanita's meat loaf,” Mom said.

“So have I,” Dad added. “For three years.”

“Consider it done.” I reached for my cell phone. “How about you, Antoinette Chloe?”

“Just a chef salad with Thousand Island dressing and crumbly blue on top. Oh, and have them add ham and chicken to the salad. No, have them put the ham and chicken into a long roll with the dressing and lettuce, tomato, and onions. And skip the salad.”

That was ACB.

I phoned in the order, I added the same sandwich for myself, and asked that Ray bring it over.

A half hour later, after we got into the Christmas cookies, there was a knocking on the back door. As expected, it was Ray with our order.

I introduced him to my parents, and they shook hands.

“Ray, can you join us for a while?” I asked.

“I can't, boss. The Silver Bullet is packed. Some snowmobile club is there—about fifty of them. Juanita and Bob said that I should stay at the diner and help there, and that I wasn't needed at the shower, since the Babes were on it.”

That was a good decision. I would have done the
same thing. It made me feel more relaxed that my diner was functioning perfectly fine without me.

“Okay, Ray. Here's the deal,” I said, handing him one of my credit cards. “Buy two laptops for me, as soon as you can. I'm donating them to the church. And here's what I'd like.” I handed him a sheet of paper with Liz's make and model number on it. “Tomorrow, if you could. Oh, and get two flash drives. And, Ray, you'll be on the clock.”

“Don't worry about that,” he said. “I can probably drive over to Oswego tonight and get them. It depends on how busy the diner gets.”

He was such a good kid, and he worked like a rented mule. I was so glad that I'd given him a chance to prove himself.

During the next three hours, we all ate, talked, and laughed. It was so good to see my parents again.

“Have you heard anything from John or Sue?”

“They both called not too long ago. They're really busy,” my father said. “But they're both happy doing what they do.”

My sister and brother were in the Red Cross and moved around from place to place as needed. We always joked that they followed the disasters, but what they did was serious business.

Sue was a nurse by trade, but now was an administrator and coordinator of nursing for them. John was a doctor.

And I was a diner owner . . . or would be after I paid Aunt Stella in full.

Sometimes I had the feeling that I was a major
underachiever. What was I doing to save the world like Sue and John were?

Well, I was going to save my little corner of it by finding out who killed Liz.

It was going to be difficult to do the things I needed to with my parents there because I wanted to visit with them, but I did have a job at the church and was in charge of the pageant.

They just had to keep themselves occupied. Or else they'd have to audition for the pageant, too.

If I was going to be Tiny Tim, my parents could be Mr. and Mrs. Cratchit.

Yes!

•   •   •

An hour later, there was an impromptu party at the Big House when Aunt Stella returned with the Babes and Bob. Clyde and Max stopped over as well, bringing hot pizza and wings. Ray came over with the two laptops and the new flash drives and stayed for some pizza and wings. Then Bob left to cook and Juanita arrived after her shift.

Around midnight, the party broke up.

My parents left for their cozy motor home, Clyde, Max, and Juanita went home, and everyone from Boca went upstairs to their bedrooms.

Just ACB and I were left. She was wiping off the counter, and I was sitting as I wiped off the table.

I whispered to ACB, “I think I'm going to break into Roger Southwick's apartment. I'm pretty sure he's living above the church, where the Robinsons are living.”

“How? When?” ACB asked with a gleam in her eye. She was ready to help, but it probably would be better if I did it myself.

“Preferably when the three of them aren't around, if there's ever a time like that. And I hope to find a set of keys somewhere that would let me open the door to the upstairs. From what I can figure out, keys are kept in the top drawer of Darlene's desk. Hopefully they're labeled.”

“Liz was so organized. I'll bet they're labeled,” ACB said.

ACB handed me my crutches. “Liz's flash drive would be the thing to look for. Oh, and remember she was working on something called ‘Buff'? Well, in her personal phone book are phone numbers all with the Buffalo area code.
Buff
has to mean
Buffalo
.” I pulled out a copy of Liz's phone book from my purse. “Next to the first one, she wrote in ‘B.N.'”

“Let's call some of the numbers and see if we can figure it out,” ACB said.

“Just what I was thinking.” I punched in the first set of numbers.

“Hello,
Buffalo News
. How can I help you?”

“I'm sorry. I have the wrong number,” I said, then turned to ACB. “It's
Buffalo News
.”

“The next one is labeled ‘BVS-CH,'” ACB said. “I don't have a clue.”

I dialed and apologized for calling the wrong number again. “It's the Bureau of Vital Statistics in the courthouse.”

The next was the Erie County Department of Corrections, Buffalo, New York.

“I wonder who or what Liz was checking into,” I said.

The next was the New York State Parole Department.

My first guess was Roger. Just because he'd acted suspiciously. Maybe he acted suspiciously toward Liz, too, and she'd decided to check him out. But Roger had let it slip that he had some kind of relationship with Liz. Maybe it was a negative one. I could see that.

“This is really good, Trixie. We at least know that Liz was snooping around Buffalo. Remember how Ty said that we're not law enforcement professionals?” ACB asked.

“Yes, I do. And it bothered me. Just because we don't have a degree in it, we can't figure things out?”

“Someday he'll discover that we
are
professionals.” She laughed. “Now let's figure out a plan for breaking into Roger's apartment like the pros we are.”

•   •   •

“Didn't Ty Brisco tell you that we wouldn't need you today?” Pastor Fritz asked on Sunday, before services. He'd been trying to get rid of me since I'd started volunteering.

I was about to lie to a pastor again. I surely was going to hell.

“Gee, no. . . . I don't remember. . . . But I'm here now and my ride left, so I can help all day if you need me. I'll answer the phone while you, Darlene, and Roger are in church. Right?” I'd found out during the week
that Roger passed the collection basket, so he'd be occupied while ACB and I did our snooping.

“No. That isn't necessary. We have an answering machine, and—”

“Pastor Fritz, it's no trouble at all. Really. People love it when they get a real person. Don't worry about a thing. I am happy to help. I really am.”

“But—”

“I just love this room. It's so cheery and bright. Will Roger be passing the basket today?”

“Roger?”

“Roger the maintenance man.”

He looked at me like I had two heads. “He usually does, I guess.”

“Fine. Then I won't look for him.”

“Look for him? Why would you look for him?”

“You know, give him things to do,” I said, babbling. “I can always find things to do around the point. I certainly can find things to do around here.”

“But it's a Sunday.”

“Of course! He has the day off.” I picked up a pen and notebook. “I'll make a list for him for tomorrow.”

“He'll love that,” Pastor Fritz said, shaking his head. “Trixie, see if you can get a ride home early. There is really nothing to do here. If you can't, I'll drive you home after services.”

“Okay, Pastor Fritz, but take your time. I have a lot of things to do. I bought these laptops for the office, and I'm going to set them up.”

“That's very generous of you. Thank you so very much.”

“You know what they say about computers: Can't live with them; can't live without them,” I said. “And you're welcome, very much.”