ILL-TIMED ENTANGLEMENTS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #2) (31 page)

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound… Like I said, I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”

They worked on their food for a few minutes, while Rob worked up his nerve to ask something else. “Uh, Kate, is it possible that you’re attracted to Skip mainly because his personality reminds you of Ed?”

She suppressed the urge to laugh.
Actually, my dear, he reminds me more of you.
Out loud, she said, “They’re both easy-going, but in somewhat different ways. I think the attraction is more about that kind of personality is a good complement to my own.”

“As in, one has to be easy-going to put up with you,” Rob teased.

“Exactly,” Kate acknowledged with a grin.

After another minute, Rob said, “Kate, let me ask a hypothetical question.” He paused to think through how he wanted to phrase it. “You both feel like this could be a serious thing between you, right?”

She nodded.

“Suppose you two do get together and get serious, is that going to be fair to Skip? If you, uh, aren’t able to be as close to him as you were to Ed?”

Kate looked into his eyes and her own turned shiny. “Rob, every time I think about that, I feel a stab of guilt, like I’m being disloyal to Eddie…” She looked down at her plate. “Because I think I
could
end up loving Skip as much as I loved him. And up until a few days ago, I wouldn’t have believed that could happen.” A couple tears broke loose and ran down her cheeks.

Rob had no clue what to say so he started to pull out his handkerchief, then realized she already had it.

She gave him a small smile and dug it out of her own pocket. As she swiped at her eyes, she said, “I’ve wondered if you would ever run out of handkerchiefs.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve learned to pack several extras when I’m going to be around you these days, but this trip even that precaution apparently wasn’t enough.” He smiled back at her, but he was still struggling to digest what she had just told him.

“Kate,” Rob finally said, taking her hand in his. “I still have some reservations about Skip. I do trust your judgement, but I don’t know him well enough myself to say that I trust him yet.”

“That’s fair enough.”

“But assuming he does turn out to be the totally great guy that you sense he is,” Rob continued in a gentle voice. “Then I think it’s a very good thing that you would be able to love him as much as you loved Ed. Any less than that would be less than either of you deserve.”

She smiled at him, as the waitress arrived with the check.

“This is on me,” Rob said. “I owe you for being such a jerk lately.”

For once, Kate did not protest.

•   •   •

At the motel, Rob watched as she unlocked the suite door. Then he gave her a hug and said goodnight. Kate went into the suite and he went through the outer door to his room.

She flipped the deadbolt on the door, then turned. Skip was sitting at the table pretending to watch television, the volume low to keep from disturbing Betty in the next room. He started to rise from his chair but Kate held up her hand. “Don’t stand up.”

He froze, then sank back into his seat. “Why not?”

“Because if you do, I will walk right into your arms,” she said.

He decided that ‘And that would be a problem, why?’ was not the best response. Instead he said, “That bad, huh?”

“No, actually it was good. Started out rough but ended good. It’s just… It’s been such a long intense day. My emotions are raw.” She walked toward the table.

He pretended to measure its diameter with an imaginary measuring tape. “Close enough,” he said softly, then tapped the table across from him. “Sit,” he gently ordered.

Kate sat in the chair across from him. Skip reached for her hand. She tried to pull away but he said, “Stop. There’s three and a half feet of wood between us. It’s okay. Just relax. Take a deep breath. The intense day is over.”

He gently massaged her hand with his long fingers as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she caught a hint of longing in his. She tried to pull her hand back but he hung onto it.

“Skip…”

“It’s okay, Kate. Just relax,” he said again. He stroked the backs of her fingers, then couldn’t resist lifting her hand to his lips and gently kissing her fingertips.

The zing of energy that shot up her arm made her eyes go wide. He gave her a lopsided grin. “Sorry. Guess that didn’t help with the relaxing part.” But he still held onto her hand.

He was an experienced lover. He knew that if he turned that hand over and kissed her palm, or better still the soft skin on the inside of her wrist, she would be his for the night. But as enticing as that thought was, he didn’t want her in his bed for just one night.

He wanted her in his life for the foreseeable future. He let go of her hand.

“Would you like to watch some TV for awhile, or just go to bed?” He tilted his head toward the door of the room she was sharing with Betty, so she would know there was no innuendo intended.

“Bed, I think.” Kate got up and walked toward the bedroom.

At the door, an impish part of her took over. Turning, she fluttered her eyelashes. In her fake Valley girl accent, she said, “I’m going into the Barbie dream house now. Goodnight, Ken.” She blew him a kiss.

Skip’s soft chuckle followed her into the bedroom.

O
ver yet another room service breakfast on Saturday morning, the group conferred about the day’s tasks.

“Nothing popped in my research on the Murphys or Petersons,” Liz said. “They’ve apparently led very mundane lives.”

Fishing their slip out of her pocket, Kate said, “We don’t really have a lot on the Petersons at this point, but we probably should find out in they knew Jeff Morgan, and explore the chloroform issue.”

“We’ll take ’em,” Mac growled. Rose nodded.

“I still need to catch up with the Murphys, with the same questions,” Rob said.

Kate brought up something she had been mulling over since the day before. “I think
I
need to talk to Baxter, by myself.”

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Kate,” Skip said. “You and I can talk to her together.”

“Baxter doesn’t like men. She wouldn’t even answer her door yesterday for Rob, even though I’m pretty sure she was home. She’ll be much more likely to be open with me if I’m alone. I’m a lot younger and stronger than her and I’ve had self-defense training. I’ll be okay, Skip.”

“What if she pulls a gun or knife on you?”

“The killer has used whatever weapon has been handy so far. There’s no reason to believe he or she is armed. I’ll be on my guard.” Kate was figuring that this was the one thing she could do for the investigation that the others couldn’t readily do. If she could get Baxter to open up and glean something useful from her, or at least eliminate her as a suspect, then Kate could go home knowing she had done her part.

Skip debated whether or not to push it. The reality that he wouldn’t convince her, just piss her off, won out over his fear. He clenched his fists and swallowed hard at the thought of anything happening to her.

“We should probably have another go at Jill Winthrop as well,” Kate was saying. “Rob, maybe you and I can talk to her after I see Baxter and you track down the Murphys.”

Rob nodded.

“I want to talk to the director again, if she’s in today, and sober,” Skip said. “But I’m thinking I should tackle Morris first, just in case Mrs. Carroll orders me off the property when I try to talk to her.”

“Do we really think Carroll’s that strong a suspect at this point?” Kate asked, leaving unsaid the fact that she was passed out cold when a car tried to run Rob down.

“She didn’t deny that she went to see Doris to talk her out of the lawsuit. And she definitely didn’t like the woman. Felt she was a troublemaker,” Skip said. “She’s got no motive that we know of to harm Frieda or Jeff, but it’s possible she killed Doris and then someone else used that as a cover to kill the others.”

“Or they found out that she’d killed Doris,” Liz said. “It’s very likely that Frieda learned something she wasn’t supposed to know, while she was gossiping with folks about Doris’s murder.”

Kate pulled out her cell. “Let me see if Lindstrom will tell me more about what’s in Jeff’s autopsy report.” She got his voicemail and left a message.

“While you’ve got your phone out, Kate, let me get his number from you.” Kate handed Rob her phone and he scrolled through her contacts list.

“Hey, it’s under L, not S for
Saaanndy
,” he teased.

Skip shot him a dirty look that Rob didn’t see. But Kate did. She rolled her eyes at Liz.
Do convents take widows with small children?
she wondered.

As Rob scribbled Lindstrom’s number on the back of one of his own cards, he was thinking about Kate talking to Baxter on her own. He also knew that there was little point in arguing with the woman once she’d made up her mind. But something else had occurred to him.

“Folks, we’ve gotten a little too used to knocking on doors and talking to innocent-looking old people. Keep in mind that we’re looking for a killer here, so everybody be careful!” He had included them all in the admonition, but he was looking directly at Kate when he said it. She nodded, acknowledging that the message had been received.

At The Villages, they had no sooner let themselves into Betty’s apartment then Lindstrom was ringing the doorbell. When Rob opened the door, the detective asked, “May I come in?” He had a search warrant in his pocket but was hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. He didn’t want to push Franklin. If the man pushed back, it might force his hand.

“Sure,” Rob said, wondering why the detective had specifically asked permission.

His question was answered when Lindstrom walked over to the window at the far end of the living room. Sitting in front of it was a stand holding an array of house plants. “Looks like you have quite a green thumb, Mrs. Franklin,” he said conversationally, but his handkerchief was in his hand.

He used it to pick up a small box from one of the shelves of the plant stand. After examining it for a moment, the detective pulled out an evidence bag. He turned to Rob, who was still standing near the door. As he dropped the box into the bag, he said, “I’m afraid I have to take this.” His tone was almost apologetic.

“What’s this about, Detective?” Rob asked.

Lindstrom waved them toward the seats in the living room. “Still don’t have the tox report back, but it looks like Morgan was poisoned with nitrates… which are the most common ingredients in fertilizers, including plant food for house plants.”

Rob sighed. “I can think of quite a few people around here who not only would have ready access to fertilizers or plant food, but would probably know it was toxic. And I repeat, Aunt Betty has a solid alibi and no motive for killing Morgan.”

“Alibis for Morgan’s murder will be a bit difficult to pin down, I’m afraid. Traces of nitrates were found in quite a few empty beer bottles in Morgan’s recycle bin.
None
of them had any fingerprints on them, except Morgan’s.”

Lindstrom gave them a moment to digest the significance of that. Those bottles would have been handled by quite a few people, between the brewery and Morgan’s apartment. They should have been covered with prints.

“That beer could have been given to Morgan at any time,” the detective continued.

Kate was struggling to capture a vague thought that was floating around in the back of her mind. But the more she tried to chase it, the more it teasingly eluded her.

“I repeat…” Rob started to say.

“As to motive,” Lindstrom said as he held up his hand to stop him. “We’re thinking we may have two murderers here. That someone had a motive to kill Morgan, and figured this was a real convenient time to do that.”

“Johnson,” Skip said.

“Who?”

“Paul Johnson. He approached us yesterday with an offer to help,” Kate said. “Claimed he was a friend of Morgan’s but didn’t really seem to know him all that well. And he tried to pump us for information about the investigation.”

Lindstrom took out his notepad.

“He’s in the next building over, Detective,” Betty said. “Apartment 130.”

Liz had been tapping away on her laptop. “An overdose of nitrates causes oxygen deprivation,” she said. “It can lead to dizziness or even convulsions, before you go into a coma and die. Detective, did the medical examiner say whether or not Jeff had to be dead before he went over that railing?”

Lindstrom glanced at Betty. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “There was enough bleeding that the M.E. couldn’t be sure. He could’ve died immediately before the fall, or during it.”

“So Jeff’s killer doesn’t have to be particularly strong,” Betty said. “He or she could have given Jeff the beer at any time, and when the poor man drank it and realized something was wrong, he came out of his apartment, maybe trying to get someone to help him.”

“And either had a convulsion or passed out just as he got to the railing,” Liz said.

Rob was waiting for Lindstrom to jump on the fact that the killer didn’t have to be strong to come back around to accusing his aunt. But the detective didn’t go there. Instead he nodded at Liz.

“It’s unlikely that Morgan died elsewhere and the killer carried or dragged him to the railing,” he said. “His heart would’ve been stopped long enough that his wounds from the fall wouldn’t have bled.”

Liz was still tapping away. “Detective, it’s also possible he committed suicide,” she said, without looking up from the computer on her lap.

“Drinkin’ fertilizer’d be a weird way to kill yerself,” Mac growled.

“True, but nitrates are
prescribed
for angina,” Liz said. “The body can apparently handle small amounts. Hoarding your heart medicine and taking an overdose would not be so strange.”

“Do you know if Jeff had chest pains, Aunt Betty?” Rob asked.

“Not that I know of… But I just thought of something. Jeff tended to be quite fastidious. He would always carry his own plastic knife and fork to the cafeteria. And he had a little bottle of hand sanitizer with him at all times.”