ILL-TIMED ENTANGLEMENTS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #2) (15 page)

“Then what’s bothering you? Other than the obvious, that someone is trying to frame your aunt for murder.”

Rob didn’t answer her as he consulted the menu. The waitress arrived with Kate’s coffee and took their orders. The woman grabbed a cup from an empty table and poured coffee for Rob as well.

The waitress’s actions reminded him of why he was in such a foul mood. “What’s with you and Skip?” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Taken aback, Kate replied, “What do you mean?”

“What’s with the smiles and the shoulder squeezing?”

“We’re friends,” Kate said.

“Since when? At the point that I hired him…” Rob made a dramatic show of consulting the date and time on his watch. “Roughly eighty-four hours ago, he was just an acquaintance.”

“I’d say, roughly sixty hours ago.” She didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of her voice. When he just frowned at her without responding, she added, “Rob, what is your problem? This is the man that you hired last year to protect me.”

Rob busied himself doctoring his coffee with cream and sugar. “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally said.

“Rob, what part of ‘we’re friends’ don’t you understand?” she replied in a gentler voice. She was still irritated, but also touched by his concern.

“What do you know about this guy anyway?” Rob asked, changing tactics.

“What did you know about him when you hired him to guard me back then?” Kate countered.

“That’s different. I contacted an agency to hire some bodyguards. Not quite the same thing as becoming ‘friends’ with someone.” He made quotation marks in the air.

Kate sat back in her seat and stared at him.
You hypocrite!
she thought.

He hated it when they encountered the attitude in others that a man and a woman could not be
just
friends. And here he was assuming, based on one shoulder squeeze, that she and Skip were more than friends.

Deciding she would cut him some slack, considering his stress level at the moment, Kate tried to keep her tone calm. “Skip and I have been working very closely together for the past few days. And somewhere along the way, we became friends. He’s a nice guy.”

He rephrased his earlier question. “Okay, but other than some insights into his personality, what do you really know about him?”

The waitress chose that moment to bring their food.

“What do we know about anybody when we become friends?” she replied, once the waitress had moved on. “Something just resonates between you and a budding friendship is born. Sometimes it grows, as you get to know each other better, and sometimes it doesn’t.”

After a moment, Rob looked down at his untouched food and said again, more softly, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her voice now gentle, Kate said, “I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl. I get to choose my friends, and I can handle it if things don’t work out.”

“If things don’t work out? That sounds like more than friends to me.”

“Rob!” Kate stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Okay, Skip did ask me out. I told him it was too soon for me to date, and we have agreed to be friends.” Despite her best efforts, anger was creeping into her voice. “So yes, we are just friends, and that’s all we are going to be for the foreseeable future.”

Rob pressed his lips together in a grim line. But he decided to drop the issue, for now. He had called his administrative assistant the previous evening, to have her order a background check on Canfield from the online service the firm routinely used for such searches. He’d told Fran to put a rush on it. Hopefully, he’d hear back from her, before whatever was going on between Kate and Canfield went much further.

As Kate finally took a bite of her breakfast, she couldn’t help thinking that Rob had a point. She didn’t know much about Skip’s life, past or present. Any guy who looked that good had to be used to seducing women on a regular basis. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was interested in her, a woman of average attractiveness with all kinds of baggage, including unresolved grief and a seven-month-old child.

“Kate, I need your opinion on something,” Rob was saying.

She nodded, grateful for the change of subject.

“I’m debating whether or not I should insist on taking Aunt Betty back to Maryland with us, until this killer is caught. I’ve got two concerns. One is legal. Has Lindstrom said anything to her about not leaving the area?”

“Yes, he did say that at one point, and I thought it a little odd. Where did he think she was going to run off to?”

“Usually if a suspect packs up and leaves the jurisdiction where a crime is committed, that’s seen as a sign of guilt. But if I approach Lindstrom first and tell him I’m taking her to my house to keep her safe, that should take care of that issue.”

“Does that mean you want to scrap the idea of trying to find out who the killer is ourselves?”

“Yes and no,” Rob said. “I’d still have Skip and Rose look into it, but the rest of us could get back to our own lives. It wasn’t easy clearing my schedule for the rest of this week, especially since other things had gotten backed up while I was working the custody case.”

Kate was surprised that her second emotion, after joy at the thought of going home to Edie, was a twinge of regret that she would no longer be in Skip’s company on a regular basis. Actually it was more than a twinge.

“My other concern, what I wanted your opinion on, is Aunt Betty’s mental state,” Rob said. “She seems to be holding up so far, but would it be better to get her away from all this? Or would being uprooted from her home and her friends indefinitely be more stressful for her?”

Kate thought for a minute, determinedly shoving aside her own longing for her baby to assess it from Betty’s standpoint. “It’s a tough call,” she finally said. “Being a murder suspect and not feeling safe has certainly got to be pretty stressful. As to the uprooted issue, she’s already experiencing that by having to stay in a motel, but that probably feels temporary to her. I don’t know how moving in with you and Liz, for an indefinite length of time, might affect her…”

Kate suddenly realized what they were doing. “Hey, we’re sitting here acting like it’s our decision to make. It’s up to her to decide what she wants to do.”

“Well, yeah, I would ask her. But I wanted your opinion first, so I’d know whether I should push it or not.”

“Wait, on second thought, you can’t ask her. She’s already feeling guilty because we’re here, putting our lives on hold, to help her. She’ll say yes to going with you, whether that’s what she wants to do or not.” Kate suddenly had a mental image of the elderly woman sitting forlornly in the Franklins’ family room, staring at the walls. Betty was in good health, but at her age mind-set had a lot to do with physical well-being. Feeling uprooted and depressed could send her into a downward spiral.

After Kate had shared those thoughts with him, Rob asked, “So what do you advise?”

“Let’s give it another day or two and see how things go.”

“Hopefully this mess won’t drag on any longer than that,” Rob said.

Kate was a bit worried by the discouragement in his voice. He was a take-charge, make-things-happen kind of guy. But in this situation, all they could do was keep talking to people and hope they unearthed some nugget that would turn into a fresh lead in the case.

Kate reached over and patted Rob’s hand. “Something’s gotta break loose soon,” she said, with more confidence than she felt.

•   •   •

When they returned to the motel, the others were all up. They had managed to get a suite, with a second adjoining bedroom for Rob and Liz. Mac and Rose were several rooms down from them. The group squeezed around the table in the suite’s living room to eat the Denny’s carry-out Rob and Kate had brought back.

Rob sat down in the easy chair next to the sofa where Kate was sitting. “This place is costing a bundle,” he said.

“I don’t mind the expense,” Betty said, “but I do dislike the idea of being driven out of my home.” Rob and Kate exchanged a look.

Liz patted Betty’s arm. “We understand, but it isn’t safe for you to be there, not after what happened yesterday.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Rose said. “Might speed things up. How about we lure the killer into trying again? I’m close to Betty’s size. I could dress in her clothes and a wig. Rob escorts me home, then makes a big deal about leaving. We sneak Mac into the apartment and we wait for the perp to show up.”

“Sneak Skip or Rob in as well,” Mac added. “So we’ve got somebody in each room. No matter what door or window he comes through, we’re covered.”

“Is this guy, or gal, likely to try again?” Liz asked.

“Maybe,” Skip said. “He grabbed the note back so it wouldn’t be obvious that it was a staged suicide. He may not realize he left the rag and vial there, might think he dropped them somewhere outside in his haste to get away. Or he might write a new note that accounts for the earlier botched attempt.”

“Like I tried to stage an attempt on my life the first time but now remorse has overcome me and I really am committing suicide,” Betty said.

Kate had a horrible thought. “It’s also possible that setting up your death as a remorseful suicide was just a side benefit for the killer.” She looked around at the others. “Betty might be next on his list, for some other reason.”

“You’re trap idea’s worth a try, Rose,” Rob said, looking grim. “What else needs to be done? Have all the interviews been completed?”

Skip shook his head. “We’ve narrowed the list down a good bit, but there’s quite a few people we still haven’t caught up with. And I’m thinking we should talk to the folks in Betty’s building again. Ask them if they saw anybody outside her door yesterday afternoon, or running away outside the building. Check out their alibis for that time frame if possible. And Kate and I definitely need to take another crack at Mrs. Forsythe.”

“Lindstrom was going to do that last night,” Rob said, with a slight edge to his voice.

“True, but she might be more forthcoming with us than with a police officer,” Kate said. “Skip can mention that he saw her out front right after Betty’s assailant got away, and ask if she saw anybody running by. See what her reaction is.”

Rob frowned. “Maybe we should mix up the interviewing pairs. See if that shakes things up any.”

Kate noticed that Liz was giving him a curious look. “Skip and I have already talked to her,” Kate said, keeping her voice calm. “She’s more likely to be comfortable with us.”

“Once we get the trap set back at Betty’s place,” Mac said, “I can slip out and talk to the folks in the building.”

“You two caught up with Carla Baxter yesterday afternoon, right?” Kate said. “What did she have to say about her conversation with Frieda?”

“At first she claimed that Frieda did say Betty might be guilty, but when I pushed a bit she backpedaled,” Rose said. “I think what really happened was that Baxter said it, Frieda stood up for her friend and then Baxter insisted where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and assumed she’d convinced Frieda because she’d gotten the last word.”

“Reminded me of a sergeant I once had,” Mac growled. “Believed if he was the last one talkin’, he’d won the argument.”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Those were the words Frieda quoted her as saying,” Kate told them.

“There was something about her that felt off,” Rose added. “She was giving off strange vibes.”

“I didn’t sense nothin’ weird,” Mac said.

Rose thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t know what it was, but I was picking up on something.”

“It’s a good idea to trust one’s instincts, until you have further information at least,” Kate said. “More often than not there’s something to them. Usually something we’ve sensed on a subliminal level that didn’t quite register consciously.”

“Sounds like Ms. Baxter deserves another interview,” Skip said. “She may be pushing the idea that Betty’s guilty because she’s actually the killer.”

“Talked to old man Morris too,” Mac said.

Kate was impressed. “How’d you get him to let you in?”

“Told him we weren’t goin’ away. Just kept knockin’ and ringin’ the bell. Old fart finally surrendered. Once we got him talkin’, couldn’t get him to shut up.”

“He’s lonely. Misses his wife,” Rose said.

“Then why’d he keep bitchin’ ’bout her. Called her an old bat. Kept complainin’ ’bout how she cluttered up the place. Little tables and knickknacks everywhere. Looked like one of them froo-froo gift shops.”

The corners of Rose’s mouth twitched as she hid a smile at Mac’s editorial on the man’s apartment. “Was pretty crowded in there,” she conceded.

“His wife’s been dead for months. If he really hated the clutter, he would’ve long since cleaned it out,” Kate said. “I agree with Rose. He’s still grieving for her. What did he say about Doris flirting with him?”

“Dismissed it. Called her a crabby bitch.”

Betty scowled at his second use of the B word. “Sorry, Betty,” Mac said.

“Morris said he wouldn’t give Doris the time a day. Claimed he hardly knew the other lady, outside a seeing her at the writers’ club.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?” Kate asked.

Rose shook her head slightly. “Hard to tell with crotchety old men.” She tilted her head slightly in Mac’s direction and cocked an eyebrow. Rose had very expressive eyebrows.

Kate stifled a snicker.

“Know someone’s lying when the emotions are off,” Rose said. “With them, always the same emotion. Grouchy.”

“What’s your best guess?” Kate said.

Rose thought for a moment, then shook her head again. “Really can’t say. He did seem a little off. But could be just ’cause he was trying to hide his feelings about his wife.”

Kate nodded. “Damn! Oops, sorry, Betty. I meant to ask Lindstrom about… where the second weapon may have come from.”

“Uh, I made a point of doing a visual scan of Frieda’s kitchen when I was in her apartment. There was an empty slot in the knife block on her counter,” Skip said. When Betty paled, he added gently, “It looked like she was killed in her sleep. She never knew what happened.”

“So it was another case of using whatever weapon was convenient,” Kate said.