The Marsh Madness (20 page)

“Cops? At Shelby’s?”

“Go figure. I learned some stuff about her, but first the cops. They are talking to everyone on the street. I moved to the next street and, from the pole, I could see quite a bit of action before I figured I’d better disappear.”

“Maybe they’ve figured out that she was involved with the killing.”

“Maybe. Whatever. I think it’s serious. Uh-oh. Too much heat in the area. Talk later.”

There was one place that no one would think to look for me. I stuck my hand in my deep-orange bag and felt around the smallest interior zipped pocket for the key. It fit the front and back doors to the residence of one person who wasn’t likely to be home anytime soon. Tyler Dekker.

*   *   *

MY HANDS SHOOK as I eased the Navigator out onto the street and headed for Tyler’s small, neat brick bungalow.

“So Walter,” I said, “at least we’ll look legit, you and me, going back to Tyler’s place.”

Walter cocked his head.

I assumed Tyler would not have told his neighbors he’d dumped his devoted girlfriend and her dog by text. “That’s us, Walter. We’ve been mistreated.”

I pulled the Navigator around the corner, and Walter and I sauntered, bush by bush, to the immaculate front entrance. Tyler was the neatest person I’d ever met.

We were greeted by Cobain, Tyler’s shaggy dog. Cobain was so excited he twirled and leapt and licked our faces. He may have accidentally left a small puddle in the entry before he and
Walter raced through every room of the house, yipping with joy. They crashed into the small plant table that Tyler kept near the window. I wiped up the puddle, righted the table and rescued the plant before Cobain ate it. That dog would eat anything. I’d do a bit more sweeping after I slept for twenty minutes. I was so fatigued I could have missed large clumps of earth.

“Glad you’re having fun, boys,” I said. “Try not to break the furniture.” I yawned widely but decided to check what was happening on the news before I hit the mattress. Maybe they’d called off whatever they were doing and Tyler would come home to get a bit of sleep. That would not be good.

Tyler likes the local country station. No comment. And he leaves the radio on loud for Cobain.

Police in Harrison Falls are not commenting about the cause of a death that took place last night. The body of a twenty-eight-year-old woman was found in a patch of woods on the outskirts of Harrison Falls early this morning. Police received an anonymous tip about the body, which was discovered off Durham Road. The victim’s name has not been released, pending notification of next of kin.

I sat there openmouthed.

Was that woman Shelby? Dead?

That would account for the police presence that Cherie had spotted in front of Shelby’s parents’ house. Durham Road was less than half a mile from Van Alst House. That explained what Vera was trying to convey. Detectives must have put two and two together and gone to Van Alst House. Now I assumed they were looking for me. Was there evidence that tied me to Shelby? I had chased her from the gallery, but no one knew it was me. Or did they?

Police are holding twenty-eight-year-old Lance DeWitt, an employee of the Harrison Falls Public Library, as a suspect in the case.

Oh no. Poor Lance. He’d done nothing but try to help me. Even if the truth came out, could things ever be the same for him in the job he loved?

Aside from making sure that Sammy actually delivered and found someone good to represent Lance, there wasn’t much I could do at that moment that wouldn’t make things worse.

Sometimes I look to the characters in the mysteries I’m reading for insights into the situations I’m dealing with. I’d found Lord Peter Wimsey very helpful, and Harriet Vane, as well. Archie Goodwin could walk the walk and talk the talk, but none of them were of any help to me. I was up to my ears in Chief Inspector Roderick Alleyn, and if he’d been real and walked into Tyler’s house at that moment, he’d have had no choice but to arrest me.

My head was spinning. The prospect of life in prison after a night of little sleep can do that to a person. “Come on, dogs,” I said. “Let’s hit the hay.”

Ping!
Another random text from Tiff came through.

I am on a floating boat to hell.

You and me both, sister. I didn’t bother replying. The cops would probably be able to locate me if I did. Instead, I let the idea of sleep set in. Cobain and Walter were more than delighted to leap onto Tyler’s immaculately made bed. I had a random thought about creases, but then darkness descended. Too bad it brought nightmares.

*   *   *

THE
SNICK
OF the lock turning woke me with a shock. Or maybe it was Cobain shooting off the bed with that massive leap. I sat up, and Walter snorted at me in irritation. He wasn’t finished napping.

Cobain galloped.

“Hey, boy.” My blood ran cold when I heard Tyler’s voice.
Goldilocks must have felt it too when she was grilled about the porridge, chairs and beds.

“What you been doin’, Cobain? Looks like you tried to trash the place. I’m sorry I haven’t been home much, but I’ve been up against it. Big problems. I don’t even want to tell you what they are, because I know you won’t side with me.”

I assumed the thumping noise was Cobain’s tail.

There was no way I could escape through the small window in the bedroom. Ducking into the hallway would have been even riskier. La Casa Dekker was tiny.

Without a thing to lose, I rolled off the bed and took Walter with me. There wasn’t much headroom under Tyler’s bed, but if I’d been looking for an upside, it would have been that Tyler Dekker was an immaculate housekeeper and there wasn’t a single dust bunny to scare up a sneeze.

“Bear with me, boy,” he said, plunking himself on the bed.

Walter was making his snuffling noises. He’s very fond of Tyler Dekker, not having fully grasped what a total traitor and jerk he’d turned into.

Lucky for us fugitive felons, Cobain was making quite a racket whining and barking. It was enough to drown out Walter’s snuffling and my pounding heart.

Of course, Cobain was trying to tell Tyler that we were under the bed, but, smart as he was, Smiley didn’t speak dog as well as I did.

“Be a good guy and settle down, boy. I’ve got a call to make.”

Cobain did not settle, but we did. Turned out Smiley was checking in with Castellano. She had news for him.

He said, “So the girl has been identified as Shelby Church? . . . For sure? . . . Oh. The parents . . . Right. That’s that, then . . . I did follow up on that tip as you requested, and it seems that Shelby Church was last seen at an art installation thing in Grandville, last night. According to a witness, the artist whose work was on display, Poppy Lockwood-Jones, the victim was accosted by a weirdly attractive blond woman
who chased her out the fire exit. No one saw much after that because the alarms went off and that caused some chaos. Martinis were spilt and some caviar was lost. There were quite a few critical remarks about the blonde’s outfit . . . No, ma’am, I’m not trying to be funny. I’m reporting back.

“We confirmed that the librarian, Lance DeWitt, was also there, asking about Shelby. He left before she did. That’s right. Shelby was spotted running from the gallery and jumping into a Lexus SUV and leaving the scene. Lance DeWitt and the blonde were seen pursuing the Lexus in a BMW . . . No one got a plate from either vehicle. They were both muddy, apparently.

“Yes, we were able to collect CCTV footage from the area.

“It appears that the same BMW, with DeWitt and the blonde, was seen in the vicinity of Shelby Church’s parents’ house at 41 Belleville Crescent in Grandville at around eleven last night. We’re canvassing door-to-door in the neighborhood, and we’ve learned that the BMW was joined by a Lincoln Navigator driven by a burly redheaded man in his fifties.

“At seven this morning, I went by with a photo of Michael Kelly, and at least one witness is certain it was him. Sorry? . . . No, it was definitely not Kevin Kelly, ma’am. I had pictures of both of them. Then the librarian and the large guy left with the Beamer and the blonde drove away in the Navigator. She may have had a small dog with her. The neighbors notice things like that, but they didn’t get any license plate numbers.

“The Navigator was observed by an avid birdwatcher living on the next street over. It was parked there all night. There is no reliable description of the woman in it. But several robins were seen, and there was talk of an early scarlet tanager.

“Sorry, ma’am, I do know this is a serious business . . . Yes, I realize that you are taking a chance on me as an
investigator . . . No, I won’t screw up. So to continue, we’re not sure how Michael Kelly was involved with Shelby, but he seemed to be aiding DeWitt and the blonde. As far as the timing goes, they had left Belleview Crescent in plenty of time to have killed Shelby Church. But if you don’t mind me saying so, ma’am, I find it hard to believe that either of—Sorry, ma’am . . . Right, I’ll keep an open mind.

“Both Michael Kelly and Lance DeWitt are in custody. Kelly’s asked for his lawyer. We’re letting them cool their heels.

“I’ll be back at the station in a half hour. Yes, ma’am. I do realize this is a murder case.

“To finish up, I was able to use the warrant to get the information you wanted from the library. We did turn up extensive searches for”—and here he paused a bit—“Jordan Bingham on the Kauffmans and their country home, Summerlea. We turned up evidence of a search on Shelby Church, and also we found a digital image of a group at the Country Club and Spa. Shelby is in that. The librarian has labeled her and made connections with other people in the photo. You’ll be interested to note that Chadwick Kauffman is also in the photo. Also labeled . . . Yes, ma’am. I brought it all in. It’s on your desk.”

I could hear Castellano squawking on the phone. Some phones make you sound like a deranged chicken when you’re on speaker.

“Ma’am? There could be a way to explain that. And there’s something I wanted to mention. You remember that Jordan Bingham and Vera Van Alst insisted that the people they met at Summerlea were not Chadwick Kauffman and his assistant, Lisa? . . . Yeah, I know that Kevin Kelly is in the wind and we ‘like’ him for the killing of Kauffman, but if you’ll hear me out, please. The dead woman, Shelby Church, fits the description of the woman they described at Summerlea . . . No, I’m not saying they killed her. I’m suggesting they would have wanted to talk to her. They would
need her alive. Alive, she could confirm that they didn’t kill Chadwick. Dead, she’s—”

Another nail in our coffin, I thought. How’s that for a tired cliché? It had been a night of clichés, right down to hiding under a bed with someone sitting on top of it, like something out of
I Love Lucy
. Really, it might have been funny if I hadn’t been so close to getting arrested for something I hadn’t done.

“N
O, MA’AM.” TYLER’S voice rose. “No. I don’t think the blonde was Jordan Bingham. Jordan has beaut— . . . long dark hair to her shoulders . . .Yes, I have heard of wigs . . . Someone recognized her? Was she caught on camera? . . . A tip? Just to clarify, was it an anonymous tip? . . . It was. I was wondering who is calling in these anonymous tips. What are they getting out of it? . . . No. No, ma’am, I’m not taking Jordan’s side . . . We aren’t together anymore . . . Yes, I did have some understanding that her uncles were, um, somewhat unorthodox, but, I checked, and Michael and Lucky Kelly have never been arrested, although we’ve been interested in them more than once. The word is that they don’t run any operations in our area. It’s all down South. Anyway, for your information, Jordan and I broke up. I haven’t had any contact with her at all . . . No, ma’am. I haven’t spoken to her except when I was on duty at Van Alst House . . . Yes, I’m sure. I have seen her from a distance, but that’s it. If you’re worried about it, you can always move me off the case. There’s always lots to d— . . . No, ma’am,
I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job. I’m fine with whatever you— . . . Right. I understand that my opinion is of no importance at all . . . Yes, ma’am. You can believe me. I have not been in contact with her.

“Where am I? Well, um, I’m at home, getting changed. A couple of angry older women were waiting outside the station, and they took me by surprise and one of them threw coffee at me.

“Seems they were protesting outside the station in support of the librarian and they recognized me.

“They claimed that they didn’t throw the coffee. It spilled.

“The woman who actually
did
throw the coffee says that she’s eighty-two years old and her hands shake and try to arrest her and watch the sh—

“Seems like extortion to me too, but the crowd backed her up. I decided we have better things to do than lock up a crowd of senior citizens when we don’t have much chance of a conviction and we’re in the middle of a murder investigation.

“Well, she was standing on a step and I walked past her. She could have tripped, although I know she didn’t.

“I’ll be back at the station shortly. Thought I’d use my lunch to get respectable.”

The rest of the conversation was all on her end. Chicken squawks that meant nothing.

In the end, Tyler said, “Yes, ma’am. We’ll get them.”

And that was the end of that.

I listened as Tyler padded off toward the bathroom. As soon as I heard him turn on the shower, I slipped out from under the bed with a very good plan to race along the hallway and out the back door off the kitchen. I wanted to check his cell to see who else he might have been talking to besides Castellano, but I figured I’d better get out of there.

I picked up Walter and began to tiptoe out. Tyler’s cell phone rang on the side table. He always turned on the ring and raised the volume when he was out of the room. In that tiny bathroom there was nowhere to put a phone.

Why had I forgotten that?

I heard Tyler thundering toward the room. Too late to get back under the bed. I hugged the wall in the faint hope that he wouldn’t notice a woman and an extra dog standing there, trapped.

“Hello?” Tyler clutched the oversized blue-and-white-striped bath sheet around himself as he fumbled with the phone. “Yeah, Stoddard, I’ll be there as soon as I get cleaned up, and yes, I’ll be wearing plain clothes. And no, they won’t be coffee-colored.”

He clicked the phone closed and turned. I held my breath. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. But that would have been too good to be true.

Walter yipped happily. He’d been missing his friend, Smiley. Cobain barked in agreement.

I wiggled the fingers of my free hand to say “hey” and sidled closer to the door.

Tyler’s blue eyes popped. His familiar blush rose, this time from his chest to the roots of his hair. I should add the hair had a nice lather of shampoo on it.

“Wha—?”

“Good to see you too,” I said.

“I just assured my commanding officer that we’re not in touch.”

“Well, that’s a fact. You said that you hadn’t spoken to me, and it was true at the time.”

“It’s not true anymore.”

“But it was true then.”

“Really, Jordan? Do you think that would matter to Castellano? We can’t be together.”

“I didn’t want to be together. I needed somewhere to sleep and I didn’t think you’d be goofing off from work to take a shower. I still had my key and—Do you really think I murdered that woman?”

He blinked. “Well, of course not.”

“And what about Chadwick Kauffman? Look me in the eye and tell me you think I did that.”

He swallowed.

I had the advantage over him, being fully dressed and with a lot to lose. Plus I’d learned from the expression on his face that he didn’t believe I’d killed Chadwick. I also knew that he was going to pursue that case under orders.

He said, “When this is over, we can—”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Jordan—”

I felt a buzz of emotions. Fear of getting arrested didn’t even make the list. How could he? How could he suggest that we would ever even talk again?

“Never. Not in my lifetime. I don’t ever want to see you again. I am only hiding out here because I had no choice. And I had the key.”

“I realize that, but since we’re face-to-face, let me explain—” By now, Tyler was flushed from his hairline to his feet. Usually I find his blushing endearing, but not this time.

I sputtered, “Explain? Explain? What’s to explain? I can’t believe you said that. You broke up with me by text. You didn’t have the courage to do it to my face. And that was after I forgave you for everything that happened last fall. Now this? No explanation possible except that you are a colossal jerk.”

“I’m not. I mean, I may be a jerk, but that’s not why. I had to.”

“Stop wasting my time. I’m out of here.”

“I had no choice. They were watching you.”

“What?”

“They were watching you.”

“Who was watching me?”

“The police. Us. We were.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We got a tip about you.”

“A tip about me? From who?”

“Anonymous.”

“Oh great. So some anonymous crackpot calls in a tip about me and you accept it without question and break—”

“Not me. I didn’t believe it. But Castellano and Stoddard were informed about it.”

“Informed?”

“The information about the tip came down from one of the higher-ups. I don’t know who passed it on. But Castellano and Stoddard were told to keep an eye. And then when Chadwick Kauffman was found murdered and the circumstances were similar to the tip—”

“What?” I knew I had to stop shouting “what?” but every step of this conversation made me want to bellow it. I also knew I was hyperventilating.

“Sit on the bed,” Tyler said. “Put your head down between your knees. I’ll find a paper bag for you to blow into.”

“Oh no,” I rasped, “don’t you leave this room so you can call for backup.”

“I don’t need backup for you, Jordan. I’m trying to tell you what’s going on and you’re freaking out.”

“Who wouldn’t freak out? Are you telling me that the tip came in before the murder?”

He nodded. “The tip specified the three of you—Vera, Kevin and you—were planning a theft of books and other valuables. It didn’t specify Summerlea.”

“But that means—” I had a bit of trouble with my breathing.

Tyler said, “Please, Jordan, sit down. Get it under control and we’ll talk.”

“It means that whoever sent that tip planned it.”

“Yes.”

“They planned the killing too.”

“I believe so.”

“That explains why Vera was told to bring Kev and me to Summerlea. They set it all up. And they planned to implicate us.”

“That’s what it means. I’m sure of it.”

“But why?”

“That’s the part we don’t know.”

“We? You and Castellano and Stoddard?”

“You and I are we. And
we
don’t know
why
.”

“Did they try to trace the tip or find out about the tipster?”

“Of course. They’re very good investigators. Especially Castellano. She’s going places. She’ll be chief here or somewhere else before too long.”

“Solving the Chadwick Kauffman case will make her get there faster.”

“You got that right.”

“Let’s not get sidetracked. Did they find out anything?”

“They didn’t confide fully in me, as I was still your boyfriend at the time. That’s why I—”

“Move on from that.”

“As far as I can figure, they’ve worked it out that it came from someone at the Country Club and Spa.”

“But I didn’t even know anyone there before—” I stopped myself from saying “before I dressed up as the auditor and swanned in and stole the photo.” After all, Tyler didn’t know about that escapade, even though I thought he may have spotted me. And I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure I could trust him. I didn’t plan on handing over details that might add to charges against me. “It doesn’t make sense. Someone was clearly setting us up to take the fall for their crime. Wouldn’t they have to check that out?”

“Castellano and Stoddard are convinced that one of you did it. They don’t care about the motive of the tipster.”

“They didn’t find the phone-in tip odd? Before the fact?”

He shrugged and blushed a much deeper shade of red.

“They think it’s a falling-out among, um, criminals.”

“Criminals?”

“Sorry. That’s what they believe.”

“But, I’m . . . I’m not a criminal.”

“I know that.”

“I’ve always gone straight. I don’t break the law.” I didn’t
give a minute’s thought to any incidents with lock picks and trespassing or impersonation. They were always with good cause.”

“I know you’ve been framed. I knew that you were being set up as soon as that tip came in.”

“Did you talk to them about it?”

“Jordan. You’re a very intelligent woman. I was seriously involved with you. Do you think they would have trusted me?”

“Oh. No. But then I don’t trust you either.”

“Well, you have to. I broke up with you in a dramatic and—”

“Cruel—”

“Not cruel. It was crass, and I know it seemed uncaring, but I needed them to think that we were done and it didn’t matter all that much to me, but you were furious.”

“Couldn’t you have stood up for me?”

“Not if I wanted to stay in the loop in the investigation.”

I snorted.

He said, “I miss that snort. I’ve already let you know about the tip. The tip could be useful ammunition for your lawyer. I figure you have Sammy Vincovic.”

“Yes.” I couldn’t let on that I knew he’d arranged that. I’d tricked that information out of Sammy, in a surprisingly unguarded moment. Sammy would be very unhappy, and we all like a happy lawyer in a capital case.

“Well, he’s the best, isn’t he? He’ll work that angle, and if it turns out they didn’t investigate when they should have, he’ll take them apart on the stand. I mean, if it comes to trial.”

I gulped.

He reached out and squeezed my hand. “He’ll dig around to find out who the tip might have come from and to find someone else who’ll be a credible suspect but wasn’t investigated. That will count. Believe me, I wanted to let you know what was really happening.”

I gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Uh, things are bad now. Really bad, and, by the way, you kept me in the dark.”

“I just told you about the tip! To be fair—”

“I don’t care about being fair. You let me down in the worst way.”

“I admit it. I thought it would help to work the case, and I was sure I could let you know why I broke it off, but I couldn’t reach you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time I need to speak to you, Castellano or Stoddard is around. They have taps on your phone.”

“I have a burner.”

“But I don’t know the number.”

True. I hadn’t given it to him. He was on the other side.

“And anyway, I think they’re tracking my calls too. The best thing was not to contact you, to pick up more facts and to make sure that nothing really bad happened to you.”

“Bad like being suspected of murder? Like being treated as the lowest type of criminal?”

“Jordan. This is how I can help you.”

“You only care about your job. That’s what it is.”

“If that was all, do you think I would have fallen in love with a member of Kelly family? Well-known—”

“Local entrepreneurs.” Did he say “in love with”? I wasn’t sure I believed it. And if I did believe it, then this was one really unromantic situation in which to unfurl that declaration.

“Whatever. They are what they are, but they’re not your responsibility.”

“I’m responsible for keeping them safe,” I said, Kev’s silly and much-loved face flashing in my brain.

“Maybe, but
you
are not responsible for any of the things they do.”

“They’re my family.”

“Sure, they make their choices and you are loyal. I get that.”

“Too bad it’s a stumbling block, career-wise.”

“I can find a way to live with that. But right now, I need my colleagues, especially Castellano and Stoddard, to think
that I’ve washed my hands of you. And I need you to know that I trust you and I believe in you.”