Nightshade on Elm Street: A Flower Shop Mystery (30 page)

“What a gorgeous machine,” he said, running his hand over the supple leather seat.

“Ever wanted to get one?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Still do.”

“Hey, come to check out my new girlfriend?” Jake asked, swaggering around the side of the cottage, beer bottle in hand.

“Nice machine,” Marco said, studying Jake’s expression.

“Ever ride one?” Jake asked.

“You bet,” Marco said.

“Want to take it out for a spin?” Jake asked, dangling a key ring.

“Maybe another time,” Marco said. “Got a few minutes to talk to us?”

“If this is about Lily,” Jake said, taking a wide-legged stance and folding his arms, “then no, thanks. I’ve already talked to the cops.”

“Then you know they’ve ruled Lily’s death a homicide,” Marco said.

“Yeah, I know that,” Jake said, thrusting his chin forward. “I also know you’re talking to me now because you think I had something to do with it.”

“Not necessarily,” Marco said. “We’re gathering as much information as possible so we can find out who’s responsible.”

“But, see, finding out who’s responsible is what the cops are for.” Jake threw one leg over the motorcycle seat and started the engine. “See you around.”

Obviously, Jake felt he’d been cleared. He didn’t understand how slowly detectives worked.

“What’s your hurry?” Marco called.

“I’ll tell you what my hurry is. You’re here to get me to say things that make me look guilty, and I’m telling you, I didn’t have nothing to do with Lily’s death.”

“Then who do you think killed her?” Marco asked.

“That’s the other thing about having cops working on the case. I don’t have to think about it. But if you want something to chew on, how about the Burches? Orabell’s a wack job, and Halston has secrets. And here’s something else—both of them are liars. There. Chew on that info for a while.”

“What kind of secrets?” Marco asked over the engine noise.

“I’ve said all I’m going to.”

Jake revved the engine, but before he could leave, I called, “I understand you took out insurance policies on both yourself and Lily just a few weeks ago.”

“You’re trying really hard to make me out as the bad guy, aren’t you?” After giving me a spiteful glance, Jake took off with a roar, kicking up a cloud of sand.

Marco watched him ride away. “Interesting that he’s trying to put us onto the Burches’ trail, yet he doesn’t seem to have any qualms about staying with them.”

“He also doesn’t act at all aggrieved about his wife’s death,” I said, “yet Jillian told me originally that Jake was devoted to Lily.”

“It could be that Jake was simply devoted to Lily’s money and how to hold on to it.”

“Which he was managing to do until Pryce broke up with Melissa and rocked the boat,” I said, continuing the thought. “Then it’s possible Jake sensed that Lily might leave him for Pryce, so he killed her, cashed in on her life insurance, and is just waiting for the probate court to give him Lily’s assets.”

“It’s a solid motive. It’d be helpful to know whose idea it was to take out those life insurance policies. I’ll
do some digging into that and see what I can find out.” Marco put his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s take a walk out to the Osbornes’ pier. I want to see what it looks like at night.”

We walked hand in hand from the Burches’ house to the beach and then proceeded west to reach the Osborne pier. We stepped onto the wooden dock and walked to the end, a distance of about thirty feet, where we saw Pryce’s motorboat moored. Turning around, we gazed uphill toward the Osborne cottage, where we could see lights on inside.

“Lily could have been out here without anyone inside the cottage noticing her,” Marco said. “Let’s test it by calling Pryce.”

I took out my cell phone, scrolled to Pryce’s name, pushed
dial
, and handed the phone to Marco. “Here you go. You talk to him.” Because I surely didn’t want to. The sound of Pryce’s voice still sent a chill up my spine.

“Pryce,” Marco said moments later, “Marco here. Look out at your pier and tell me what you see.”

We watched as Pryce moved up to the sliding glass doors and cupped his hands around his eyes. Then he put his phone against his ear. “It looks like someone might be standing on the pier.”

“Wave at him,” Marco said to me.

We both waved our arms over our heads. “What do you see now, Pryce?”

“Movement. Two people. Hands in the air. Is that you?”

“Yes, Abby and me. I’m putting you on speakerphone now. We wanted to find out how well you can see activity on your dock after the sun goes down. Can you make out our faces?”

“Not at all. Perhaps if the moon were out. At any rate, I wouldn’t have been standing at the door watching the pier. And I was in bed well before midnight.”

“How about Jake?” Marco asked.

“He was up late,” Pryce replied. “When I went to my room, he was watching a movie on TV. I don’t know what time he finally retired.”

“That takes care of Jake’s alibi,” Marco said. “He was using you as his witness.”

“There’s no way I’ll verify his whereabouts,” Pryce said. “Do you need me to come outside?”

“Not at this time,” Marco said. “Thanks for your help.”

Next we turned our attention to the Burches’ cottage, which stood a good distance off and way up on a sandy hill. Their pier was a distance of about the length of a football field from where we stood, and we could just make out their dinghy bobbing in the water up against the dock.

“Marco, it looks like someone’s in their boat,” I said quietly, pointing.

As we watched, a figure rose, tied a rope to one of the posts, and jumped up onto the dock.

“It looks like Halston,” Marco said in a low voice. “Let’s go see what he’s up to.”

We walked along the sandy shore until we were about fifty feet from the Burches’ pier; then Marco called out, “Hello! Halston, is that you?”

The figure turned in our direction. “It’s me. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“Marco Salvare,” my handsome prince said as we got closer, “and Abby Knight.”

We could see Halston’s inquisitive expression change into one of alarm. “What are you doing out here at this time of night? Has something else happened?”

“We’re still investigating Lily’s death,” Marco answered. “How about you?”

He strolled up the pier toward us, wearing a fishing
hat with lures stuck in the band, a short-sleeved blue cambric button-down shirt, khakis, and brown canvas boat shoes. Behind him, I saw a shiny metal box the size of a fishing tackle box left on the dock. Halston had not placed it there when he’d climbed out of the boat.

“Just came in. Been out fishing. No luck catching anything worthwhile, however.” He stepped off the end of the pier onto the sand. “Ended up tossing everything back.” He smiled. “Anything I can do to help?”

“We wanted to see what the view was like from the Osbornes’ pier,” Marco said.

“Doubt you can see anything after dark without the moon up,” Halston said. “From my windows, I can see my pier only if I use night binoculars.”

“Did you hear anything unusual between eight and midnight Tuesday night?” Marco asked.

“’Fraid I wouldn’t be of help with my hearing, and Orabell didn’t mention hearing anything unusual.”

“What time did you go to bed that night?” Marco asked.

“Ah! You’re looking for alibis. Mine is simple. I went to bed at ten, as always when there isn’t a party going on. Orabell’s bedtime is identical to mine. We had to provide them to the detectives who came to call. Haven’t seen the fellows since, so I assume we’re in the clear.”

With our police force, it was wise never to assume.

“Do you sleep in the same bedroom as your wife?” Marco asked.

“’Fraid I have a snoring problem that keeps my wife up, so no, we don’t—and I see where you’re going with this. We can’t swear to each other’s whereabouts if we’re not in the same room. Detectives didn’t have a problem with it, but if need be, Orabell can vouch that I was sound asleep all night because she gave me one of her sleeping pills.”

“Do you take her pills regularly?” I asked.

“Not at all. Just too much on my mind right now.”

“What kind of things?” I asked.

“Ah! I see where you’re going with that, too. ‘What’s on his mind that keeps him awake at night?’ you’re saying. And I’ll tell you it’s what keeps most everybody up. Money concerns. Don’t want that to get around, however. Wouldn’t look good for a broker to be having money woes, would it? So let me assure you that my clients are in good hands. That’s not an issue at all. Wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their investments.”

I hated to interrupt his stream of consciousness, but Halston was wending away from the topic, which was alibis. “Did Orabell take a sleeping pill Tuesday night?” I asked.

“Said she did,” Halston replied, then added, “Didn’t mean that the way it sounded. No reason to doubt her. Of course she did.”

“Does Orabell know about your money problems?” Marco asked.

“Good heavens, no. She wouldn’t be able to take the stress. Fragile woman, you see. Believes I can pluck money from the proverbial money tree, too.”

“Doesn’t that cause more money problems?” Marco asked.

Halston smiled. “You’ve got a lot to learn about women, son. Don’t see what this has to do with what you’re working on, however, which is what happened to Lil.”

“I never know what little piece of information will help me solve the case,” Marco said.

“Is it true Lily catered eight parties for you this summer?” I asked.

Halston’s smile froze in place. “That sounds about
right. Suppose Orabell gave you that information. She’d know better than I. She’s my social director.”

“That must have caused some of your money concerns,” I said. “By Orabell’s estimation, catering those parties would have set you back about sixty-four thousand dollars.”

“What’s your point?” Halston said, his polite veneer cracking just a little.

I was working on a theory, but didn’t want him to know yet. “Besides your wife’s Piaget, has anything else gone missing from her collection?”

“Seems like a few things.” He scratched his ear. “A pair of earrings, from my recollection.”

“I believe I also heard that her Tiffany watch—timepiece—was gone, as well,” I said. “Did they turn up missing after a party, too?”

“I’d forgotten about the Tiff—ah! I see where…You think it’s possible Lily has stolen before. As I told you a few days ago, Lily is—was—a professional, but now that you mention it, her being a thief would be sad if it were true.”

“Do you think it’s possible, then, that Lily took both watches and the earrings,” I asked, “or is it possible Orabell misplaces her things?”

Halston stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and jingled coins. “I wish I could say one way or the other, but I don’t even have dates that would pinpoint when the items went missing.”

“Would Orabell know?” I asked.

“Best you don’t bring it up. She tends to come undone when talking about missing possessions. Poor thing grew up as poor as a church mouse.”

“How undone do you mean?” I asked. “Undone enough to behave irrationally?”

“Now look here,” Halston said sternly. “I see where
you’re going with this and I resent it. My wife has her quirks, but she is no murderer.”

“I didn’t mention anything about the murder,” I said.

“You were heading that direction,” Halston snapped, giving me a scowl. “I believe I’ve said enough. Good evening to you both.”

He lifted his fishing hat, then strode up the sand to the stairs that led to his deck. When he was out of sight, I motioned for Marco to follow me, then walked to the metal box at the end of the pier.

“See this tackle box?” I said to Marco. “Wouldn’t you think Halston would’ve had it with him if he were fishing?”

Marco crouched down to look at the box, then swung around to study the dinghy. “His fishing rod is in the boat. Maybe he decided he didn’t need the entire tackle box.”

“I don’t know, Marco. My dad liked to fish, and when he went out onto the lake, he always had his tackle box with him. It’s like carrying a first aid kit. There’s something in it for every situation.”

“Think about it, Sunshine. What would he have been doing out on the water that he couldn’t tell us? If he just went for a boat ride, why not say so?”

“It’s just a gut feeling that he’s up to something. Maybe it’s because Jake planted the idea in my head that Halston has secrets. And here’s another thing I noticed, Marco. Not once did Halston ask us to speak up, and I purposely talked quieter than normal to test him. I’m beginning to think that there’s nothing wrong with his hearing.”

“What would it serve to pretend to be hard of hearing?”

“For one thing, he could pretend not to hear Orabell.” Yikes. I’d almost put air quotes around
pretend
. I was hanging around Jillian too much.

“And for another thing?” Marco prompted.

“I had just the one. But here’s something else I’ve been pondering. What if Halston is covering up for Orabell?”

“If he’s covering for her, his protests are definitely on the weak side. I noticed before that he will seem to defend her, but he doesn’t do a very good job of it.”

“Okay, then, let’s switch it around. What if his weak defense is intentional? What if he’s actually the killer and he’s trying to make his wife look crazy so the police will suspect her? If she’s in prison for murder, she can’t charge up their credit cards.”

“It’s plausible, but there’s something about that theory that doesn’t sit well with me. I think Jake is our strongest suspect right now.”

“Then what’s our next step?”

“Besides getting the insurance information, we’re going to have to do some surveillance on him.”

“After the bridal shower.”

A movement behind Marco, way up high on the hill, caught my attention. I put my hands on his arms and said quietly, “Someone is watching us from Halston’s deck.”

Marco responded by pulling me into his arms for a long kiss.

“I’ll have to remember that line,” I said breathlessly afterward.

“Do you still see anyone?”

I shifted my gaze back up the hill. “No.”