A Taste of Death (Maggie Olenski Series) (20 page)

The phone rang. Since
Dyna was out of reach
and pin
ned down by the heavy feline
, Maggie picked it up.

"Hey, Maggie." Her brother Joe's hearty voice rolled out. "Your friend up there still need that lawyer?"

"What?" As soon as she said it Maggie remembered asking Joe to check on the lawyer Paul was getting for Elizabeth. It was hard to believe that was only two days ago with all that had happened.

"Judd Ambler. Remember? I thought it was important."

"It is. Or it was. It's beginning to look like she won't really need him."

"Well
,
that's good. Dave Schaeffer, the lawyer I worked for last summer, says Ambler's fine, but that he's into criminal law. I thought your friend was just being sued or something."

Maggie sat down, holding the phone. She watched Dyna slide Ali off her lap with some difficulty and onto one side of the wide chair cushion. Ali had clearly decided he preferred to remain prone and wasn't helping in the least now that Dyna wanted to stand up.

Maggie hesitated, then decided to come clean. "No, she wasn't being sued." Maggie crossed her legs and braced for what she knew would come. "She was under suspicion of murder."

"What!"

"It's Elizabeth Kerr." Maggie spoke rapidly. "Betsy Kerr. I knew her from Girl Scout camp back in sixth grade. Remember that year I went to Camp Kittiwake and I came home with...."

"No, I don't remember. You're friends with a woman who murdered someone?"

"Of course not. Elizabeth didn't murder anyone. And that's why she needed a good lawyer. I was simply making sure of that."

"And what else have you been making sure of?" Joe's tone had become stern. Although younger than Maggie by two years, he had the irritating tendency to occasionally treat her as the younger sibling.

"Only that justice is done."

"Maggie...."

"Never mind, Joe. I already know everything you're going to say. I am being careful, and I do have to do this."

"You went up there to write a book."

"I'm doing that too." Maggie's conscience tweaked her a
s she said that. She’
d hardly touched her notes lately. "Kind of," she added, recalling her intention of honesty.

Joe grunted and groused some more, and the call ended on an unsatisfactory note for both. Maggie had managed to pull a reluctant promise from him not to bother their parents with what she had told him. For now. She couldn't count on that for very long, she knew, if Joe decided he needed back-up pressure to bring her home. But surely this would all be resolved before too long. It had to.

As Maggie hung up the phone, she stared at it a moment, thinking, then turned dolefully toward her math papers.

"What's the matter?" Dyna asked

"Oh, Joe's giving me a hard time as usual. But he made me realize how little I've been getting done on the book. I had been toying with the idea of us taking a quick trip down to Atlantic City
, and I don't –
"

"Atlantic City? What for?"

"To look into Alexander's activities. Alexander did much of his gambling there. I thought perhaps talking to people who had some connection with him there might turn something up, or at least give us a bigger picture of him."

Dyna thought for a moment. "Yeah, Annette did say he was there a lot. Gosh, what if he had some kind of secret life going on, besides the gambling, I mean. You know, like, maybe he had a mistress stashed there, and her brother was in the mob. And the brother found out he's really married and came here and shot him." Dyna frowned. "Except, that wouldn't explain Jack Warwick's murder, would it?

"No, but maybe just learning where Alexander spent his time and with whom would turn up something useful."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Well, here's an idea. Why don
't you stay here, and I go
? That way you can work on your book, but still keep tabs on things here."

"Hmm, that's a thought."

"Sure." Dyna was revving up now. "I could call my friend Pam. Remember, I told you about going to her house-warming once and getting so lost on the drive home? Anyway, she's in the south Jersey area, not too far from Atlantic City. She said once that lots of her neighbors work there, at the casinos and such. I could start by talking to some of them. They might have good contacts."

Maggie smiled. "That sounds like it might work."

"Sure it will. I'll just call Pam and... Oh!" Dyna's face fell. "But you'd be here alone. Maybe that's not such a good idea."

"Now don't you start sounding like Joe," Maggie said, shaking her head. "I can take care of myself. I've been living on my own for what - three years now? - in Baltimore, and I've picked up a thing or two about personal safety. I'll be fine. But I just thought of something else - what about you
and John? Do you mind leaving
just as things were starting to, well, warm up?"

"Oh, John," Dyna smiled. "He won't have time to give me a passing thought for a while. I'll just put him on hold, and we can pick up where we left off when this is all over."

Dyna headed for the steps. "Well, if you're sure about staying here by yourself, I'll give Pam a call. I've got her number in my room somewhere." She patted Ali's head as she went by. "At least you'll have Ali for company. Wasn't it lucky we picked him up today?"

Maggie looked at the snoring feline, now stretched over the entire chair cushion and snoring noisily. She wasn't sure she would use the word 'lucky'. In fact, she had forgotten about Ali when she first considered going off with Dyna to Atlantic City. They certainly co
uldn't have taken him with them
and would have had to deal with arrangements for his care. Now it looked like responsibility for his care and feeding, as well as protecting most of the breakable objects of the cabin had fallen onto her. What 'luck'.

Maggie headed for her laptop, and skirted his chair widely on her way.

T
he cabin seemed unnaturally quiet to Maggie after Dyna left. Ali had immediately commandeered Dyna's bed and lay there in the jumble of its covers, blissfully asleep, leaving Maggie to fend for herself. She didn't mind in the least, but was glad of the distraction-free time to work at her computer.

As hard as she tried to concentrate on her book, though, she found her mind flitting back and forth between the mathematical problems in her notes and the very real problems surrounding her life in Cedar Hill. Never before had she had so much trouble concentrating on numbers. Only the threat of another call from her editor kept her plodding along.

When the afternoon shadows began to darken the room, Maggie got up to stretch, thinking she might heat up a quick dinner and then get back to work. She was poking through the meager pickings of the refrigerator when the phone rang.

"Maggie?" a lilting female voice asked. "This is Leslie Warwick. I'm so lonely here I could die. Will you and Dyna do me the greatest favor and come have dinner with me? It's Mrs. Hanson's day off, but there's so much left over from last night's party we could have ourselves a banquet."

Maggie thought rapidly. Dyna, she knew, considered Leslie a prime suspect and would tell Maggie in an instant not to go. She could almost hear Dyna's voice: "She poisoned her husband, as well as her cat. Go there alone, and she'll poison you too. Don't do it!"

However, Maggie, though she had certainly once considered Leslie a possibility in Jack's death, was now far less certain of that than Dyna. Leslie may have had a good motive to get rid of Jack, but why poison him? A good divorce lawyer could surely have arranged a settlement that would take care of her for life. Why put herself at risk for life in prison or worse? And if Leslie had suddenly become enraged enough to override good sense, poison would not have been the method of choice. Something fast, like a gun, was the weapon one used in the he
at of passion. Poison took time
and a cool hand.

"Dyna's gone off for a couple days," Maggie said, "but I'd love to come."

"Wonderful. Come as you are," Leslie instructed. "And soon."

Maggie smiled as she hung up. She had a good supper to look forward to and an interesting evening ahead. Who knew what conversation with Leslie would turn up? Maggie fairly bounded up the stairs to get herself ready.

With her jacket on, though, having grabbed her keys from the counter where she usually left them and ready to go out the door, Maggie remembered Ali. With a sigh, she turned back. She added dry cat food to his bowl, checked his water, then thought of her papers laid out on the oak table. Leave them like that and there was a high possibility of finding them scattered to all corners of the room when she returned. Trying hard not to mutter about the 'luck' of having this extra trouble, Maggie devised some cat-proofing using a few of the heavier books from the nearby shelf to cover and weigh the papers down. She took one more look around, decided to leave one of the lamps lit, and, finally, left.

<><><>

Leslie's home looked none-the-worse for wear to Maggie after last night's big party
, as the not-so-grieving widow led her back to the kitchen.
Maggie imagined a team of house cleaners whisking away all traces of the festivities. Probably the same team had prepared the rooms beforehand as well, she mused, polishing and rearranging furniture. Then Dan Morgan had shown up with the food, cooked and ready to serve. All Leslie had to do, she guessed, was make herself beautiful, and she probably had some help with that too. Must be nice, Maggie thought. Except for what it may have cost Leslie to attain this kind of life style. Sometimes the good life came with a very high price tag.

Leslie stopped in front of the
over-sized refrigerator
and pulled the door
open wide.

"See how much there is! And we even sent scads of it over to the homeless shelter in Chesterton. Those people will be eatin' like kings tonight." She started pulling out plastic containers, and Maggie pitched in, lining them up on the large kitchen table.

"Let's just open everything up," Leslie suggested, "and pick and choose whatever we want onto our plates. If something looks like it should be warmed up, the microwave is over there."

"This is great," Maggie said. "I really didn't get to try as much as I would have liked last night. Too busy talking, I guess." Or too busy snooping.

"I ate like a pig. After tonight, I'm going to tell Mrs. Hanson to take most of this away. My figure will be ruined." Leslie pulled a three-quarters full bottle of wine from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and squinted at the label. "Let's see. Chablis? Or do you like red?"

"White's good." Maggie licked her fingers after putting one of Dan's salmon roe and cream cheese pastries on her plate. She looked up and saw Leslie pouring wine into only one glass, which she then held out to Maggie. She filled a glass with ice water for herself. Maggie made no comment, but remembered how Dan had steered Leslie away from alcohol during the party. It seemed to be having a lasting effect.

Leslie looked more relaxed tonight than Maggie had ever seen her. Of course last night, as hostess, she had been keyed up. But the other times, both before and after Jack'
s death, Leslie had shown signs of
a tension that seemed of long duration. Like someone with a chronic pain who has learned to live with it. Leslie's pain, whatever its source, seemed relieved, at least for now.

When both their plates were fully loaded, Leslie directed Maggie to a small sitting area, divided from the kitchen by a built-in planter. The combination breakfast nook/family room had a stone-faced fireplace. Leslie aimed a remote control at the hearth and flames leaped up in an instant.

"There, that makes it all nice and cozy," she said. She sat on the love seat and tucked her feet up under her.

Maggie set her wineglass on a small end table and sat across from Leslie in the only other chair, angled slightly tow
ard the fireplace. "That's nice,” she said, nodding toward the remote.
“
W
ish we had one of those.”
There's a fireplace at the cabin, but the kind that actually burns wood and needs kindling and matches and such, so we haven't gotten around to using it yet." She took a sip of wine, then studied her plate, deciding where to begin.

"We could pop in a movie if you like," Leslie said. "There's boxes of them, maybe even some I've never seen."

"No, that's all right. I'd rather just talk."

"Okie-doke. You know, I just realized I hardly know anything about you. Why don't you tell me all about yourself."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Not that much to tell." She took a bite of honey-sweet, melt-in-your-mouth ham and gave Leslie a condensed version of her life growing up
in Baltimore with Joe and her
parents
, pitching in at the bakery and going to school
.

Leslie had been smiling as she listened, but Maggie caught a glimpse of wistfulness in her eyes.
"You're lucky," Leslie said. "I bet you've got grandparents, and aunts and uncles and all that too."