Mayhem at the Orient Express (18 page)

“I didn’t know Peter Chan was here on the island,” he said, as if he were following
my train of thought as it veered from one track to the next. “I moved up here last
fall to get the building ready and get everything in line. He never showed up until
a couple months ago. When I saw who’d opened the restaurant across the street from
mine . . . well, I couldn’t have been more surprised.”

“That’s not what the cops will think. They’ll think you moved here to keep an eye
on Peter.”

“There’s not much I can do about that. They’re going to think what they’re going to
think. If they look at when I bought my building and when Chan opened his place . . .
well, I guess that would tell them I was here first.”

It was the only piece of good news I’d heard since I walked in, and a tiny one at
that, but I was ridiculously comforted by it. Just so I didn’t get carried away by
the euphoria, I needed to know more. “Peter must have seen you around. He didn’t know
you?”

Levi shook his head. “Back when Gram died, I was just a college kid, and of course,
my last name is different from hers. I knew he wouldn’t recognize me. Besides, just
from the times I saw Peter in court, I knew he was so full of himself, he never would
have even remembered Gram. I’m sure he put her out of his mind the moment she was
wheeled out of his restaurant by EMS.”

“You never forgave him.”

“Would you?”

My own grandmother is the doyen of lunching ladies in a small town along the Hudson
River, a patroness of the arts, and charming enough to talk the birds down from the
trees. That is, unless you cross her. Then she’s so terrifying, she can drop a grown
man at twenty paces with just one icy glare.

“I adore my grandmother,” I admitted.

I hadn’t realized I’d grabbed hold of the bars again until Levi’s hand closed over
mine. “Then you know how I feel.”

I might, if the touch of his hand didn’t have a crazy sort of effect on my brain that
made it impossible for me to think about anything but how warm his skin felt against
mine. The next second, I told myself to get a grip, slipped my fingers out from under
his, and clutched my hands in my lap.

“That’s why you told me you were busy last Monday night when you weren’t. That’s why
you said you didn’t see anything happening across the street. You wanted to stay as
far away from the investigation as you possibly could. So Hank wouldn’t find out that
you knew Peter.” Since he didn’t argue with me, I knew I was right. That also meant . . .

I was afraid I swallowed a little too hard and that it sounded a little too much like
relief when I said, “That’s why you were leaving the B and B. You weren’t leaving—”

“To get away from you?” For the first time since I’d arrived, Levi smiled. “First
you thought Kate and I had a thing going, then you figured I couldn’t wait to put
some distance between you and me. What I said the other day, Bea, about how I thought
you’d be a success at running the B and B, that was the truth. You’re a good businesswoman.
But I’ll tell you what, you’re a lousy judge of people.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, I only know that whatever it was, it wouldn’t
make its way past the sudden tightness in my throat.

Maybe Levi realized it, because he went right on. “Back at the B and B, there was
a little too much talk about Peter’s murder. A few too many questions. I thought if
I steered clear—”

“Did you see something the night of the murder?”

The question brought Levi up short, and again, I braced myself. I’d all but come out
and called him a liar, so if there was ever a
get the hell out of here
moment, this was probably it. I guess that’s why when he said, “I saw someone leave
the restaurant,” I replied with a intelligent and levelheaded, “Huh?”

“I saw someone leave the restaurant.”

“And you never bothered to mention that to the cops?” I was already out of my chair
before I realized this sounded way too confrontational, but by then, it was too late.
“If you saw the murderer—”

“I saw someone. And I couldn’t describe that someone if you paid me. It was snowing
hard, remember. And visibility was lousy, even from just across the street. At one
point in the evening, I looked over there and I saw Peter leave the building. He was
carrying a couple big shopping bags, like he was making a delivery. A few minutes
later, I saw him come back with what looked like the same shopping bags.”

“That’s odd.”

Apparently, Levi didn’t think so. But then, he was in the food service business, too.
He’d probably seen all sorts of variations on the same theme and he explained it away
with a, “It happens. You get to the place where you’re making a delivery and the person
doesn’t have the money to pay for it. Or they tell you you brought the wrong stuff.
Or—”

“Or someone wanted to get Peter out of the restaurant. Because that same someone wanted
to get into the apartment upstairs and get the jewelry.”

Levi’s brows dipped low over his eyes. “You think—”

“It’s a possibility. More than a possibility. Someone wanted him gone, but maybe he
didn’t stay gone long enough. Then when he came back—”

“I didn’t see anyone walk in there while Chan was gone, but then, I really did have
a couple customers.” The steady way he looked at me when he said this dared me to
challenge him. “Then, a while later, I was behind the bar and I happened to notice
someone walking out. Like I said,” he added before I could jump in with the same ol’
questions, “I couldn’t tell who it was. I couldn’t say if it was a man or a woman.
All I saw was a figure. Bundled. You know, like the person was wearing a heavy coat.
And one of those colorful knit hats. You know, the kind with the earflaps. That person
walked out of the restaurant right before you and your friends arrived.”

I plunked back in the chair. “You saw the murderer?”

“I saw someone.” Levi emphasized that last word.

“And you didn’t bother mentioning this to the cops?”

Was my voice really that sharp and accusatory? Apparently, because Levi shot me a
look that said he wasn’t wounded, just disappointed. “As a matter of fact, I told
Hank about it last night,” he said.

“But before that—”

“What difference would it have made?” His question bounced off the institutional gray
walls. “I couldn’t describe the person, so that wasn’t going to help. And it’s not
like the cops needed to know there had been a murderer in the restaurant. They already
knew that because they had Chan’s body. So maybe I should have said something. I just
didn’t want to get too close to the situation.”

“It’s a little late for that now. Now you’re plenty close.”

“Yeah.” He sat back down on the little bunk, his head in his hands.

Close, huh?

It may have been what we were talking about, but right about then, I’d never felt
further from anyone in all my life.

18

“W
ell, if you ask me, he couldn’t have done it.” Chandra’s chin jutted at a stubborn
angle. “That Levi is far too cute to be a murderer.”

I’d been looking over the bills I was making out for my guests, and I glanced up at
her over the rims of my glasses. “I’m thinking the court isn’t going to take that
into consideration.”

“But he is cute. You do finally admit that?” Kate sidled by. With all the excitement
at dinner the night before, we hadn’t had a chance to clean up, and slowly, the props
were being returned to their owners. Well, except for Levi’s bedroll. That had been
confiscated by the police.

Kate put a wineglass in the dishwasher and a matchbook that we’d never had a chance
to use as a clue back up in the cupboard where it belonged. For now, Luella was up
in Suite #6 taking care of little Isabelle while Meg went home to check on the house
and pick up some pediatric fever reducer.

“Cute has nothing to do with any of this,” I reminded Kate and Chandra. “The facts
do. And the facts—”

“Is he gone?” Amanda peeked around the kitchen door and, seeing that the coast was
clear, walked into the room. “Ted isn’t around, is he? I thought I heard him go out.”

“You can’t hide from him forever.” She looked so relieved, I’m pretty sure she didn’t
care about this, and I guess that’s why I took pity on Amanda and told her, “Ted said
he’d be gone at least a couple of hours.”

Amanda’s bottom lip puckered. “I just don’t know what I’m going to say to him when
I see him. How I’m going to explain.”

“Well, explain is something you’re going to have to do.” Hank strode into the room
just in time to join in the conversation. “The fact that your ex-husband forged your
name on the lease papers for the restaurant, that’s something you’re going to have
to discuss with the county prosecutor over on the mainland. It may be relevant to
our murder case.”

She didn’t look enthusiastic about it, but Amanda nodded. Right before she stuck her
head in the refrigerator to root around for something to eat.

“That’s the whole thing, isn’t it?” I asked everyone, and no one in particular. “What’s
relevant, what isn’t. It’s all so confusing. All these little bits and pieces, and
none of them seem to lead anywhere.”

“Or they lead somewhere you don’t want to go,” Hank suggested.

Did everyone on the island think I had some burning love for Levi Kozlov? It was ridiculous.
I hardly knew him, and what I did know, I wasn’t even sure I liked. Apparently, I
was going to have to take out an ad in the local newspaper, disavowing myself of the
man—and the crazy tingling sensations he conjured up as if by magic.

I gave Hank a level look just so he’d know he was barking up the wrong romantic tree.
“I’m not ducking the truth,” I told him. “I’m just saying—”

“That Levi’s too cute to be a murderer,” Chandra piped in.

I sighed. “That all the pieces just don’t line up. Levi says he never knew anyone
named Chuck Anderson. So if Chuck really did steal the bracelet and hide it in the
apartment, how could Levi have known it was there?”

“Well . . .” Hank scratched his chin. “Maybe Levi’s not telling the truth. Or maybe
he has some other connection. I asked him about it, of course, and he denied it, just
like he denied knowing Chuck. But I’m thinking that maybe Levi knew a guy by the name
of Wally Rowe.”

Her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open, Amanda whirled away from the fridge and
promptly dropped what she’d gathered into her arms. A glass jar of pickles hit the
ceramic tile and shattered. A plastic jar of mayo rolled my way. A package of American
cheese hit the floor with a
thwack
.

“Wally?” Amanda’s breaths came hard and fast. “How do you . . . What do you know about
Wally?”

After the initial moment of shock, we all sprang into action. Kate picked up shards
of glass. Chandra got paper towels and sopped up pickles and brine. The mayo jar wheeled
to a stop at my feet and I grabbed it.

Hank . . .

His head cocked, Hank eyed Amanda just long enough to make her nervous, and once he
was sure he had, he stooped, picked up the cheese, and set it on the nearest counter.

“What do you know about Wally Rowe?”

Hank echoed Amanda’s question, and that was all it took. Her expression dissolved
from surprise to
oh boy, I stepped in that one
, and, hoping to hide it, she stared at her shoes.

Silent, his expression blank, Hank crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Long
enough for Chandra and Kate to finish the cleanup. Longer. Until the atmosphere around
us felt as it were a rubber band being pulled tight. Tighter.

It snapped when Amanda said, “Wally . . . Wally used to work for Peter. At the restaurant
Peter owned in Toledo. The place he ran last year.”

“Really?” Thinking this over, Hank narrowed his eyes. “Well, a few years ago, Wally
lived up here, and when he did, he was a known associate of a guy named Chuck Anderson.”

I listened to all this along with the
kerchunk
of the pieces falling into place inside my head. “That means if Wally knew Chuck
and Wally knew that Chuck stole that jewelry, Wally might have said something to Peter,
right? And if he mentioned it to Peter—” I sucked in a breath as the fog lifted.

Her already pale face suddenly ashen, Amanda burst into tears and her voice bumped
over the story. “One night back at the restaurant, I was helping to clean up, and
Wally and Peter were having a couple drinks. I heard Wally . . . I heard him tell
Peter that he knew about buried treasure. It sounded crazy.” Amanda’s laugh was filled
with nervousness, not amusement. “I mean, really, who talks about stuff like that,
right? And later, I asked Peter about it, and Peter, he told me I was nuts, that I’d
heard Wally all wrong. I knew he was lying. But then, that was something Peter was
really good at.”

I slapped a hand against the table. “Then I was right. About the apartment!” I sat
back and, yes, I looked right at Kate. There’s no time like a murder investigation
for a little one-upsmanship. “Peter wasn’t remodeling. He was searching. He was tearing
apart the apartment to find the jewelry. But if Wally knew it was there—”

Amanda shook her head. “He knew there was jewelry. He didn’t know where it was.”

She didn’t need us to ask what I was sure both Hank and I were about to ask; Amanda
went right on. “If he knew where to find the jewelry, Wally would have come for it.
And if Peter knew where it was . . . I’ll tell you what, he wouldn’t have wasted a
single minute, the low-down, no-good scumbag. He would have been up here on the island
and in that apartment in a heartbeat.”

“But he waited.” This really wasn’t as big a mystery as it seemed, and after I had
another moment to consider it, I knew why. “Wally knew the jewelry was hidden, but
not where, and he told Peter the story. Like you said, Peter would never let something
like that alone. So he did some digging. It couldn’t have been any big stretch for
Peter to find out Wally used to live up here. Or that Wally knew Chuck.”

Hank confirmed this. “That was mentioned in the local papers because once, we charged
Chuck and Wally as accomplices in a robbery.” His face twisted. “Had to drop the charges
when we couldn’t get enough evidence.”

“So that’s it!” I rubbed my hands together. “Peter did some research. He found out
Wally and Chuck were connected, and of course, once he knew that, he would have known
Chuck ran the bait and tackle. And that he lived upstairs. I’d bet anything that’s
why Peter came to the island, and why he opened the Orient Express.”

Amanda’s voice was sour. “Well, that would certainly explain it. Peter always thought
of himself as some big city restaurateur. When I heard he came up here, I thought
it was fishy. Then I remembered the story about the jewelry.”

I made sure I caught Amanda’s eye before I said, “So that’s why you showed up here,
too.”

She hung her head. “To look for the jewelry. Okay, I admit it. Once I heard Peter
was here, I figured out what he was up to. I thought maybe I’d come have a look. Then
when I found out how that no-good lowlife signed my name to the lease . . . well,
it just made me madder than ever. I wanted to scare him. But I’m telling you . . .”
She looked up at Hank, her eyes pleading. “I didn’t kill Peter.”

“But you did go out the night of the murder.” Oh yes, I said this as if it were common
knowledge, but it surprised Amanda, all right. Just in case she was going to deny
what I knew to be true, I reminded her, “That night when you came down for tea, you
were wearing your boots. They left a wet spot on the carpet.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she insisted, even though she knew it did, and caved
instantly. “All right, I did go out. I was going to leave another note for Peter.
I thought maybe I’d sneak into the kitchen while he was up front with a customer.
I figured that would really scare him, you know, walking back into the kitchen and
realizing somebody had been there, somebody who didn’t like him. I waited across the
street in front of that empty store, the one that’s for lease, and I watched for a
while. I didn’t see Peter behind the counter so I figured he was in the kitchen, and
so I waited some more. I never did see Peter, but I saw . . .”

She glanced up at Hank, then looked away again, unsure of how he’d take this piece
of news that she’d never bothered to share with the police. “I saw somebody leave.
Somebody big, all bundled up in a coat. And wearing one of those bright knit hats.
You know, the kind with the earflaps.”

It was exactly what Levi told had me, and what I knew he’d told Hank when he was questioned
at the station.

Hank and I exchanged glances. We didn’t have to say a word because we both knew what
the other was thinking: Amanda couldn’t have known what Levi told us. It looked like
Amanda was telling the truth.

“The person you saw . . .” I stared at her in an effort to get her to concentrate.
“Could it have been Ted?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It could have been. Maybe. I guess. But . . . I dunno.” She
gave up with a frustrated sigh.

“And when you went back the other day to try and break into the restaurant, you were
there to look for the jewelry?” Amanda didn’t really need to confirm; I knew it was
true even before I asked, and she nodded in response.

“And Wally?” Hank asked. “Could he be the one who showed up here last week? The guy
you saw walking out of the restaurant that night?” He didn’t add
and who killed Peter while he was at it
, but Amanda dismissed the idea instantly, anyway.

“Wally’s dead,” she said. “He has been for nearly a year. One night when he was leaving
the restaurant, he stepped out in front of a bus.”

“So Peter thought he was the only one who knew the secret.” I thought this over. “Which
means he probably wouldn’t have shared it with anyone. That still doesn’t explain
how Levi ended up with the bracelet.”

“Or what happened to the other stuff Chuck Anderson swiped.” Hank shook his head.
“I’ve had my guys go over that apartment with the fine-tooth comb. If the rest of
that jewelry was ever there, it sure isn’t there now. And it’s not in Levi’s things,
or back at his bar. Believe me, we know. We looked there, too.”

“So maybe Levi was telling the truth when he said he had no idea how the bracelet
ended up in his bedroll.” This was nothing more than a simple statement of fact, so
it shouldn’t have earned me three pointed looks from three different directions.

“What?” I threw my hands in the air. “I’m just trying to look at this thing from as
many angles as possible.”

“Uh-huh.” Kate nodded.

“You bet.” Chandra grinned.

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, I want in on it.” Luella
sailed into the room with Mariah’s sable coat over one arm. “Whether it’s murder or
our hunky bartender friend, I really don’t care. Anything’s better than cleaning up
after a sick little girl.”

“Actually . . .” Kate couldn’t keep a straight face. “We were talking about Bea and
Levi.”