A Crusty Murder Page 10

  “I know. I’ll do it later. Thanks for staying. You didn’t have to, Aidan,” I said in acknowledgement of his helpfulness.

  “I know that,” Aidan said with a grin. “It seemed the right thing to do. You might get in touch with Seanmhair and tell her not to show up today.”

  I nodded and said, “I hadn’t thought of that.” I glanced at my watch. It was just after five. We’d been working for hours. “She doesn’t come in until seven, so I have time.”

  BettyJo returned with a bag of bagels and containers of cream cheese. Aidan carried cups of Earl Grey tea to BettyJo’s Tingly Tarots reading room.

  Subtle lighting gave the room a tranquil atmosphere, a perfect setting for the glowing globe in the center of the table. Its internal light made it appear as though a cloud swirled gently inside the orb. I shuddered and turned away from it. Why it gave me the willies, I couldn’t say. I’d never responded well to the crystal ball from the first time I’d set eyes on it. I supposed a psychiatrist would say I had a hidden memory attached to the thing. Frankly, I just didn’t like the spookiness of the globe’s appearance.

  “Could you get rid of that thing?” I asked BettyJo as I pointed to the object.

  She snickered, knowing full well I had an intense dislike of it. Lifting the globe from its perch, BettyJo clicked the button on the base to the off position. The light and cloudy swirl instantly disappeared. I breathed easier.

  “Your aversion to this is weird,” BettyJo remarked as she set it back in place.

  I shrugged. “It’s creepy. I know it’s a prop, but honestly, it’s spooky.” I munched a bagel and sipped some hot tea. My watch read nearly six. I put in a call to Seanmhair and told her the shop would be closed today.

  “Why?” Seanmhair wanted to know.

  I fiddled with my napkin, hesitating over how much to say. “There was an incident and the place now needs repairs and cleaning.”

  “Repairs? What kind of repairs? What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.

  “There was a break-in last night while I was out with Aidan. The cases were smashed and the kitchen was quite a mess.” I could hear her intake of breath and interrupted as she was about to start talking. “We’ve cleaned and organized the kitchen, but I still have the front room to deal with. Then I’ll check the equipment. I’d rather you stayed home or went out with your friends.”

  “And I’d rather come in and help. If you are sure you can handle it, I’ll stay out of the way,” Seanmhair said. “Can I call the insurance company for you? Mr. Whithers will want to know what’s happened.”

  “Splendid idea. You have his information, right?” I asked.

  Seanmhair said she did and would get on the phone to Mr. Whithers immediately. She begged me to stay in touch and hung up.

  We lingered over our tea, discussed the break-in, and then went back to work.

  As we returned to work, I asked BettyJo if she’d heard any noise throughout the evening while I was out. She shook her head.

  “After my clients left, I went out for a couple hours with Kristina,” BettyJo stated. “That was around nine. I didn’t get back until eleven or so.”

  Aidan and I hadn’t arrived long after her, then.

  I’d brought a large trash bin into the shop. BettyJo and I filled it with thick shards of counter glass. Aidan continually emptied it into the dumpster out back. It was arduous work. I thanked my stars I had two people who willingly gave their time to help me out. We’d gotten the room emptied and neatened when Detective Graham strode to the door and rattled the handle.

  Once inside, Graham studied the room with his usual intensity. “Sorry about this, Melina. You must be upset.”

  Aidan stood in the doorway, the trash bin in his hand. He left it on the floor and motioned BettyJo toward the other room. She went, albeit reluctantly. Her interest in what Graham had to say was plain by her eager expression.

  We watched them disappear through the swinging door. Graham said he’d brought the results from the crime scene technician. He hesitated.

  “Jack, are you going to tell me or let me wonder all day?”

  He smirked, withdrew a single sheet of paper from his pocket, and read it over.

  “There were too many smudged prints to make specific identification of everyone who’d been here. Although, Freddy found two sets of prints that were discernible and matched those in our database. A set belongs to one of your neighbors and the other to a person of interest.” He glanced at me, tipped his head to the side to see past mine, and then motioned for BettyJo and Aidan to join us.

  “You may as well come in here,” Jack called. “You’ll only continue to listen at the door, anyway.” Jack chuckled and murmured, “They were peering through the round glass window in the door. Not too obvious.”

  My trusty workers stumbled through the door and took a stance on either side of me. Aidan asked, “What are the findings?”

  His eyes narrowed. Jack took in Aidan’s every detail in one glance. He looked at BettyJo, smiled and dipped his head, then told them both what the report contained.

  “You have to be kidding, our neighbor? Which one? And who is the other person?” BettyJo asked.

  A sudden burst of a siren sounded outside. Jack turned toward the front windows of the shop and waved the driver on. The police cruiser glided by. Jack’s attention turned to us. He said, “I’m not at liberty to say. One person we’re interested in is about to be taken to the station for questioning. We’re looking for the second person now. Any suspicious people been around in the last day or two?”

  Like bobble dolls, the three of us shook our heads. I gave BettyJo a sideways look. When I glanced at Jack, he’d caught my reaction and stood staring, waiting for me to own up. To what? I hadn’t any idea.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You know what,” Jack answered.

  “No, I don’t,” I answered innocently.

  “Melina, just tell me. There’s something I should know, so own up, right now.” Jack hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and waited with a cool and calculating attitude.

  “The bunch of us gathered the other night and decided we’d watch out for one another. Nothing more,” I admitted.

  “That’s not all, but we’ll get back to that in a minute,” Jack remarked. “Was every shop owner there? Did anyone act peculiar, at all?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I can remember. It was an exchange of information, nothing more. George Carly said he’d begun to develop a relationship with Mrs. Peterson. That was the only strange thing I got from the meeting. What did you think, BettyJo?” I asked her.

  “The same. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that anyone would ever want a relationship of any kind with Mrs. P., let alone a romantic one.” BettyJo’s nose wrinkled in distaste, Jack nearly smiled, and Aidan rolled his eyes.

  His head down, Jack murmured, “I see.” Then he added, “Let’s talk about what you’ve left out.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I haven’t anything else to tell you,” I insisted. Never would I let this cop know I’d seen Aidan hanging about in the dark after he’d walked me home from the pub. I knew in my gut Aidan was a good man.

  “I think you’ll find somebody has been lurking in the rear lot after dark,” Aidan stated. “Melina and I went out for a drink one evening. When we returned, I saw a man sneak across the backyard. He was of medium height and slight in build. He wore one of those jackets, ah, I think you refer to them as hoodies?”

  All the while Aidan spoke, Graham had listened closely, as though committing to memory every speck of information Aidan shared.

  “How long have you been in America, Mr. Sinclair?” Graham demanded. “And what is your business here?”

  “Surely, you’ve already checked on that. I own a brewery in Scotland. My plan is to distribute beer, here in the States. While in town, I decided to take classes from the lass,” Aidan tipped his head toward me, “and we’ve become friends.”
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  Graham looked thoughtful. “You took her classes for what reason?”

  “I was bored in the evenings, and Melina’s class was recommended by an associate.”

  “Who would that associate be?” Graham wanted to know.

  “Franklin Seever, he’s a local banker,” Aidan answered.

  I heard BettyJo gasp. She rounded Aidan and punched him in the arm. “You didn’t tell me you knew my father. Have you been spying on me and reporting back to him?”

  Aidan rubbed his arm and put his hands up to ward off another such attack. “Lass, I didn’t even know your last name was Seever. How could I have known Franklin was your father? I’m surprised you’d think I’d do such a thing.”

  “I’ll be double checking your story, Mr. Sinclair,” Graham promised. “You’re sure the person in the lot that night was a man?”

  “Aye, I think it was a man. Women don’t run that way.”

  His eyebrows hiked, Graham asked, “What way do women run?”

  “They have a girlie run, not that of a sprinter. This was a runner, maybe even a marathoner. You get my gist?” Aidan’s accent grew heavier as his patience thinned. I’d never heard his words so contorted before. Sprinter sounded like sprainter, while run became roon.

  I smiled, laid a hand on his arm, and turned to Jack. “I saw Aidan from my hallway window as I went to my apartment. I knew he wasn’t a lurker, but couldn’t figure out why he was there. Now we know, and that’s the end of it. The other shop owners have seen somebody out back a couple of times, so ask them about it. Maybe you’ll get a lead.”

  With a nod, Jack said he’d be in touch and asked me how long I’d be closed for business.

  “I’m not sure. It depends on the insurance company,” I answered. “At least two weeks, maybe more. Thank God the front and rear windows weren’t damaged.”

  We watched Graham leave. Instead of driving away in his car, he hurried up the sidewalk. I peered after him, mashing my face against the window. The police cruiser sat parked between George Carly’s and Helena Bentwood’s shops. I beckoned BettyJo and Aidan to follow me along the rear deck of the building.

  “What are you about now, lass?” Aidan demanded. “We have a lot of work to do yet.”

  I turned and whispered, “I know, but I want to see who they arrest. We can listen at each shop. Then we’ll have an idea of who they’re interested in.”

  We’d reached Helena’s shop. I pressed my ear to the back door. When I didn’t hear anything, I knocked. Helena didn’t answer. I tried the handle, but the door was locked. We moved on to George’s. No luck there, either. By the time we reached Kristina’s shop, sounds of commotion and breaking glass filtered through the window.

  I reached for the door, but found Aidan had barred my entry.

  “You’ll not get involved, Melina. Stay out of it,” Aidan ordered. “Please.”

  He’d said please. Okay, I could live with that. Instead of barging in on Kristina’s arrest, I backed away and headed toward Mack & Mutt’s. The interior door was open, the screen door closed, but unlocked.

  “Can we come in?” I asked when Carl Mack came to the door.

  “You’d better. There’s a cop in the dining room, and another just arrested Kristina. What the hell’s going on, Mel?”

  We stood in a tight cluster. Their kitchen was smaller than mine, which meant we were surrounded by huge wall ovens and countertops laden with deep rectangular pans filled with various toppings for pizzas and sandwiches.

  Carl wiped his fingers on his apron and put his hands on his hips. “Tell me.”

  “My shop was broken into,” I said. “The damage is astounding. Detective Graham is looking for information on the creeper who’s been hanging about. The techie who fingerprinted my place found prints from a fellow renter, and someone they call a person of interest.”

  “You weren’t hurt, were you?” Carl asked in return.

  I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t there when it happened. BettyJo was out with Kristina, so I don’t know why she’s being questioned.”

  Carl peered over my shoulder at BettyJo, his face troubled. “You were with Kristina?”

  I turned toward BettyJo and watched her look everywhere but at us. “BettyJo? Did you lie?”

  “She sure did,” Carl answered. “She was in the clutches of someone she’s had a crush on. Weren’t you?” He chuckled.

  “Okay, okay.” BettyJo threw her hands up and admitted she’d been out with somebody other than Kristina.

  “I didn’t want anyone to know.” BettyJo looked at each of us. “I’ve been seeing Martin Mason.”

  Fish-like, I gasped for air. Aidan pushed my chin up with his index finger to close my gaping maw.

  “When did this come about?” I demanded.

  “After we met at the shelter. I went back and we got to talking, and, well, uh . . .”

  “Wow, you could have shared, you know. I share with you,” I remarked.

  “Don’t get all jumpy, Melina. It’s no big deal,” she answered shortly.

  “Tell me this wasn’t about your mother. Tell me,” I moaned at the look on her face.

  “I’m not admitting to anything. Martin is a nice man and we have a lot in common. That’s all I’m saying.” BettyJo turned to Carl and demanded he tell her how he found out about Martin.

  “I happen to know his wife,” Carl confessed. “She brings their three kids in for pizza occasionally. When I saw you and Martin at the Charles Street Diner, I wondered what was going on. You two aren’t serious are you?”

  BettyJo shook her head and made a zip-your-lips motion. She clamped her lips tightly together. I hid my curiosity over her actions, knowing full well BettyJo would never date a married man. There was more to the story than she’d say in front of the others, and I knew she’d undoubtedly share with me later.

  Detective Graham was busy questioning Bill Mutton. I sneaked toward the side of the shop and watched as the other officer ushered Kristina Papien across the sidewalk and into the backseat of his cruiser. Incredulous over her arrest, I stepped back and made for the rear door, uttering a brief goodbye to Carl as I scooted out along with my two workers.

  Chapter 15

  “Explain yourself, lass,” Aidan demanded when we’d returned to my shop. “Why would the police want to question Kristina?”

  I opened my mouth to answer him when BettyJo interjected with, “Before you nag me, I wasn’t seeing Martin for romantic reasons. You were right, I wanted information on the woman we spoke to concerning my mother.” She shrugged. “It was a dead end. As for Kristina, she and Cindy are in cahoots. The cards say there’s trouble here, that two are making plans, and that we’re in jeopardy.”

  I gazed at her, wide-eyed and speechless. Aidan had no such problem. He guffawed, snorted, and then asked, “You can’t be serious? Tarot is a lot of keech.”

  Keech? What the hell was keech? I gave him a high-browed glance.

  Aidan smirked and mumbled,” Sorry, I meant excrement.”

  My snicker met his words, though I didn’t discount BettyJo’s ability to read cards and get them right more often than not. Her tarot abilities were well-known. Her clientele ranged from upper class to working class and even the occasional high school clutch of girls.

  “How did Cindy enter the mix?” I wondered aloud.

  “She came to have her cards read last night. She’s been a customer for a while now. I didn’t mention it, because we’ve been so overwhelmed with this mess today. I saw her worries, her machinations, and when she mentioned Kristina, it all added up.” BettyJo rubbed her brows with her fingertips and heaved a huge sigh.

  “Don’t be angry, either of you,” she pleaded. “I didn’t think for a minute that you’d end up in this position. There’s no sound reasoning as to why you were selected as the victim of such viciousness.” BettyJo thought for a moment. Her face lit up like the lights on Providence’s skyline. “We were both incriminated, don’t you see? Your bread was stuffed in M
rs. P.’s mouth, but she was left in my shop. Then, I found Sondra dead with her mouth filled with muffin. This is crazy.” She slapped her forehead.

  “Aye, it is, but there’s sense to it all the same,” Aidan acknowledged. “Could this Sondra woman have known more than she should have? That may have been the reason she was killed. Adding the food meant that you’d be suspected, Melina, but not necessarily that you, BettyJo, would find her dead. That would have been trickier.”

  Tapping her lips with her forefinger, BettyJo remained silent while we stared at her. When I thought I’d burst with curiosity, she blurted, “I’d been at Kristina’s that morning. She mentioned Sondra’s sale and recommended I take a look.” BettyJo growled and then said, “That bitch even offered to go with me, but said she couldn’t leave the shop unattended. What a set up.”

  “What did Kristina and Cindy have to gain by all this?” I wondered aloud.

  “That’s what we need to figure out,” BettyJo said with a note of finality. “How we haven’t been arrested for these crimes must surely be due to the fact that Graham has a personal interest in you, Melina.”

  Aidan snorted, then regained his composure.

  I gave him a long look. Was he jealous, or did he think he was the only person who would, or could, find me attractive? “And what was that for?” I snapped at him.

  He raised a hand and said, “Graham may be interested in you, who wouldn’t be? I’ll wager his interest has more to do with cultivating your friendship so he can establish the two of you killed those women. Men like him put job first, above all else.”

  He was right, that’s how I’d heard cops lived their lives. They may have spouses and families, but the job always took precedence, always.

  I agreed with a nod and said, “That’s true. Good point, Aidan.” I said it in a way that let him know all was forgiven.