A Masquerade of Muertos (Wisteria Tearoom Mysteries Book 5) (30 page)

“Can I show you something else?”

I felt the muscles between my shoulder blades tighten. “If you must,” I said, turning to face him.

“It’s not bad. It’s just a scrap of fabric. We found it at the scene.”

He produced another, smaller evidence bag and held it out to me. Inside was a small shred of black tulle.

“Could any of your guests have been wearing that?”

“Probably at least half of them,” I said.

“Yeah, I kind of figured. Thanks.”

“Plus, it was Halloween. Any black costume could have included this kind of fabric. There was a witch in the bar at Hidalgo Plaza.”

“You’re right.”

“I don’t suppose anyone there saw anything.”

“Not until after you and Dee arrived.”

“Hm. And you think the killer left this?”

He met my gaze as he held out his hand. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well,” I said, turning the bag around. “That lets out Kris and Dee, then. Neither of their costumes included tulle.”

“Tool?”

“Tulle. T-u-l-l-e.” I waved the bag. “That’s what this is. It’s a kind of fabric. Used in ballet costumes a lot.”

“How do you know Kris and Dee weren’t wearing it? Could’ve been underneath.”

“Tulle isn’t used for linings or undergarments. It would be too itchy. And I know about Dee’s costume because I helped her dress. There was no tulle in it.”

He took the bag back. “Did you help Kris dress?”

“No, but her gown was silk velvet, not tulle. And it wasn’t black. In fact, none of the party planners were wearing black. They were all dressed in the colors of the chambers.”

“There was a black chamber.”

“That was Gabriel’s. Kris’s was next door, the violet one. Do you need a copy of the map?”

“There’s a map?”

“Yes. Gabriel planned it all. It’s in my office.”

“I want to see it.” He met my gaze and added, “In a minute.”

“Thanks,” I said, and took another swallow of tea.

Tony looked at the tulle. “So I’m looking for a ballerina.”

“Not necessarily. There were some fairies at the party wearing black tulle. What you’re looking for is a torn costume. If you’re lucky, it wasn’t intended to look torn.”

“Let me guess. There were people wearing torn tulle at the party.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, though I don’t recall offhand.”

Tony nodded, looking depressed. “Another roadblock. I’ve got a lot of them on this case.”

“Can I help with any of them?”

“I doubt it.”

“Worth a try?”

He sighed, and sat on the sofa. “OK, here’s one. Nobody saw Gabriel leave the house.”

“Dee saw him go by the kitchen window.”

“Right. The hall was full of people, and none of them saw him. I figure he went out the front door right after Gwyneth fainted, when everyone was looking the other way.”

“So he went out the front, and along the side to the back. And Dee said he was running. Why?”

“Good question.”

I sat beside him and put my mug on the table.

“Maybe he saw Gwyneth faint, and got upset...” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. I’d expect him to go toward her, not away.”

“Even though she was with Roberto?”

“Yes. He was kind, despite the artist’s ego. So either he got an urgent message that made him leave, or...”

“He was chasing someone.”

“Which would mean someone else left the party before him.”

“Right. But nobody has fessed up to that.”

I met his gaze. “Somebody’s lying.”

He nodded. “Or Gabriel was killed by someone who wasn’t a party guest. But I think that’s not likely.”

“What happened to suicide?”

“We’re pretty sure it wasn’t.”

I leaned back, absorbing the fact that the killer had been a guest in my house. I didn’t want to believe it.

“Most murder victims are killed by someone they know,” Tony said.

“You think it was Kris.”

“I haven’t ruled her out.”

I bit my lip. I knew in my heart that she hadn’t killed Gabriel. Even when he danced with Gwyneth, she’d been calm. She’d forgiven him.

But they
had
disagreed about something that night. I’d overheard them talking, here upstairs. I rubbed my head, trying to remember.

I heard my phone, which I’d left on my desk, ring, dispelling the memory like a puff of smoke. I fetched it and came back out.

“It’s Gina,” I told Tony. “Please excuse me.”

He nodded, looking amused, and took out his own phone.

“Special delivery!” Gina said when I answered. “Come and let me in.”

I met her at the back door. She looked smart in a red coat over a floral dress, crowned with a red pillbox hat with a little net veil. Her cheeks were rosy from the chill and she had a large paper carry-out bag in one hand.

“Sweetie,” she said, folding me into a perfumed, one-armed hug. I closed my eyes, enjoying the comfort, wordlessly grateful.

She released me, took one look at the state of the hallway, and said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Tony put his phone away as we reached the upper hall. “Hi, Tony,” Gina said as she opened her bag. “Good thing I brought extras! You want pepperoni and mushroom, veggie feta, or green chile sausage?”

“Oh, no thanks,” said Tony, patting his stomach. “Big breakfast.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, then turned to me.

“Pepperoni, please,” I said. “And thanks for bringing them.”

“So
you
did
not
have a big breakfast.” She flashed a grin at Tony. “I’m practicing to be Sherlock Holmes.”

“Nice outfit,” he countered. “Do you always dress up to buy take-out?”

“I came straight from church,” she said, and there the subject died.

Gina was not the most devout person I knew, but she was arguably the most faithful church-goer. She went every week, often in the company of her
nonna.
I took credit for getting her to wear hats. At first she protested that it was old fashioned, but once she started wearing them she loved the attention they got.

She looked at the sitting area, where the sugar skulls took up half the table. “Hm.”

“Let’s eat in my suite,” I said. “I can make coffee.”

“Bless you, darling.”

Tony followed us in and joined us at the small dining table. I started my seldom-used coffee-maker while Gina shed her coat and dug out plates and silverware. The smell of garlic and spices had set my stomach growling; I dug into my calzone without ceremony.

“Radio had a story about a Halloween hanging,” Gina said, looking at Tony as she opened a container of marinara. “That your case?”

Tony grimaced. “Probably.”

“Can we not talk about it over lunch?” I said.

“Sorry. What would you like to talk about? Not the holiday ads, I assume.”

“No.”

Gina looked from me to Tony and back again. “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?” she said.

“I’m not sure,” I said, glancing at Tony. “Usually I get together with Nat, but she might have other plans this year.”

“Well, you’re always welcome at our dinner. You too, Tony. It’s a big, Italian family meal with lots of wine and antipasto and cannoli along with the turkey and all that.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, “but we have our own family meal.”

“Where do you have yours?” I asked Gina. “Not at your apartment.”

“Mama’s place. She’s got a table that seats twenty. We all dress up. I know you can manage that,” she said, grinning.

Gina kept up a flow of chatter about her family and holiday meals while we ate. Not feeling chatty myself, I was grateful. Tony watched and listened and drank coffee.

When I’d finished my calzone, Gina produced a container of cannoli. “Chocolate chip or raspberry almond?”

“Oh, gosh,” I said, looking at Tony. “Want to split one?”

Shrug, nod. I chose the chocolate chip, figuring he’d like it better than the raspberry. Gina took a raspberry and snuck about a third of it onto my plate. I smiled my thanks.

“Well, I’ve got to run, darlings,” she said when the sweets were gone. She bustled around putting lids back on containers. “Now, let’s see if this’ll all fit in your fridge.”

I started to get up, but Tony jumped up faster and took my plate away. Our gazes met and I smiled my thanks. He smiled back, with a look in his eyes that made my pulse accelerate, then turned to the kitchenette.

“This is so you don’t have to worry about dinner,” Gina said, rearranging the contents of my mini-fridge. “But if you want something different, just call and I’ll take you out.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, you take care of yourself! Go out for a walk or something. Don’t spend the whole day in here. Tony, you make sure she gets out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Gina put on her coat and gave me another big hug. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you too. Thanks.”

I saw her out, and realized on my way back up the stairs that I felt better. Tony was waiting for me in the hall.

“Can I see that map now?” he asked. “And can you stand to look at the badge again? I have a question about it.”

“OK.”

We went back in my office, and I returned to my desk. My badge had fallen on the floor, so I picked it up.

“Can I see that?” Tony asked.

I handed it to him and he examined it, then looked at the one in the evidence bag. “What are the circles?”

“Circles?”

“On the map. Some of the numbers are circled.”

“Oh, Gabriel did that. I asked him to recommend other artists to look at.”

“Did he do it for anyone else?”

“Yeah, Dale, and Margo, I think. And that’s just who I saw.”

“So he could have done it all weekend.”

I nodded. “Kris will know. She was with him in the booth.”

He handed my badge back to me. I shouldn’t have felt relieved, but I did. I slipped it into my desk drawer, and while I was in there I pulled out my file for the party and extracted Gabriel’s map of the chambers. I held it out it to Tony, who stared at it.

“Who else saw this?”

“Gabriel handed out copies at the planning meeting.”

“Could I keep this one?” he said.

“May I scan it first?”

He gave it back. I fed it to my all-in-one printer, saved the file, then gave him the original. He gazed dejectedly at it.

“So Gabriel was here, and Kris was here,” he said, pointing to the map.

“Right.”

“Who were in these two?”

“Roberto in the orange, and Gwyneth in the white.”

Tony grabbed a pen from my desk and wrote in the names. “But they were both at the back of the house when Gabriel left.”

“Yes. They’d been outside, and had just come in the back door, and then she fainted.”

He tilted his head, looking at the map. “I wonder if that was an act. They could have been cooperating with the killer.”

“I really doubt it. I saw her collapse. It looked real, and Roberto was truly upset.”

Tony sighed. “OK. Who was in these other chambers?”

“Cherie in blue, Margo in green, and Dale in purple.”

He filled in the names, then frowned. “Why is there both purple and violet?”

“Got me. Ask Poe.”

He shot me a glance.

“Sorry. The answer is nobody knows. Poe never explained the color choices.”

“So...any one of the three on the south side could have seen Gabriel leave. But they all denied it.”

“It was after ten, so they weren’t necessarily in their chambers. Gabriel said they could move around after the first hour. And in fact...” I frowned, chasing the memories. “I saw Cherie right before Gwyneth and Roberto came in.”

“Saw her where?”

“In the dining parlor. She was getting a glass of absinthe.”

“Who else did you see?”

I closed my eyes, thinking back. “I’d just gone around to check the fireplaces. There wasn’t anyone in the blue, green, and purple chambers.”

“All the ones on the south side of the house.”

“Right. I saw Kris in her chamber, then I checked the fire, then I saw Gabriel in his. Oh!”

Opening my eyes, I saw Tony watching me, waiting. He had his notes spread open on his knee and a pen in one hand.

“Gabriel said something, but when I glanced into his chamber I didn’t see anybody but him,” I said. “It was odd.”

“Talking to himself?”

“I don’t think so. It was something like, ‘What do you want?’ and I assumed he was on the phone.”

“Couldn’t have been. We found his phone with his street clothes.” Tony made another note. “Maybe it was Kris. Her chamber was right next door. She could have stepped into his.”

I frowned. “She would have had to pass me, or go the long way around.”

Tony shrugged. “Feasible.”

“But I would have seen her when I looked in!”

“Her dress was violet, right? Pretty dark in that black chamber.”

“She had on a silver crown, and silver trim on the dress, and her mask was silver,” I said, trying not to sound angry. “You saw how those red lights lit up the silver paint on Dee’s costume.”

Tony sighed and looked back at his notes. “What about Cherie? She was next door, in the dining room. Was there silver on her outfit?”

“No. It was all blue.” I frowned. “And I’m not sure exactly when she came into the dining parlor.”

“So she’s a possibility. Gwyneth and Roberto were at the back door, so it wasn’t either of them. That leaves Dale and Margo. Crap,” he said as his phone rang.

He folded the map and stuffed it in his pocket, then walked out into the hall. That pleased me; he wouldn’t have bothered a few months ago. Maybe I was actually influencing him a little.

I glanced at the clock on my computer: after one. Kris hadn’t called me back. I picked up my phone and sent her a text.

You OK? Need anything?

No.

I grimaced, but was glad to see that she was alive, at least. Alive, and in pain, and ready to take it out on the world.

Call if you want to talk.

She didn’t respond. I was about to get up when the desk phone rang, making me jump.

“We’re closed,” I said to it as it continued to ring. Specters of news reporters rose in my imagination, then the voicemail kicked in.

“Hi, Ellen, it’s Dale. I was wondering if—”

I grabbed the handset. “Hello?”

“Oh. Hi. Um, is it OK if we come pick up the absinthe fountain?”