Ripe for Murder Read online

  “Well, that’s something,” I said. “What about me?”

  He shook his head. “The span of your hands isn’t large enough either. Did you notice anything else in there before I found you with the body?”

  He made it sound like I’d rearranged the crime scene. “Just that the killer is probably left-handed.”

  “Of course,” he reached for a notepad. “Because the bruises line up with someone’s left hand.”

  “Or it’s someone equally strong with both hands. Someone used to manual labor. Or an athlete. Like a tennis player. I should mention that a couple of nights ago, Vance grabbed my arm in the bar. The power in his grip was astonishing.” I thought back. “Come to think of it, he used his left hand.”

  “There is the problem of getting into the spa without being seen,” Harding said.

  “Not really. This place is huge and the only staff actually walking around are Sandie and Suzette. The massage rooms are on the far side and can’t be seen from the lobby.”

  Harding flipped his notebook shut. “Interesting information about Vance. I’ll make sure to talk to him first.” He signaled one of the officers by the door, who nodded and then disappeared. “I’m quite confident this murder was done by a man.”

  Antonia slapped her palm on the desk. “Finally we’re getting somewhere.”

  He snorted. “Don’t get carried away. I just explained to you why Chantal is still very much my prime suspect in Tara’s murder. Just because I think the fight she had with Tara is weak as a motive, I still have a problem with her having the only known access to the body. If I come up with a stronger reason for Chantal to be Tara’s killer, we’re going to be having a very different conversation.”

  “So what happens next?” I asked.

  “As much as I dislike your involvement in this crime, you seem to be getting people to talk. I’m not convinced anyone threatened you on the bike path or at Berninni Winery, but it’s possible. If they warned you off, they’re nervous. And if you’ve made someone nervous, you’re on the right track.”

  “It seems reasonable that if we’re making progress and we’ve agreed to keep you informed, maybe you can share with us what you’ve learned,” Antonia said.

  He toyed with the pencil. “You still aren’t getting how this works. Your daughter is my main suspect. Anything you find out and share with me might prevent her from being charged with murder, but I won’t be telling you anything about the case. Not a thing.”

  Twenty-one

  “WHAT a horrible man.” Antonia stomped down the path beside me. “He refuses to give us any help, yet he practically admitted we’re getting to the truth faster than he is.”

  “And no doubt if we come up with anything, he’ll be ready to swoop in and take all the credit,” I said. “Not that it matters, as long as we prove Chantal isn’t the killer.” Although if I were being honest, I wouldn’t mind showing up Harding. Antonia clearly felt the same way.

  “His biggest fear is that we’ll get better results than he does. That ego of his is nearly as big as that paunch he’s sporting.”

  Uniformed police now walked the garden paths and several of the guests stopped to watch. Near the pool an officer led Vance in our direction, and his voice carried over the garden.

  “What’s this about anyway? I paid for a full hour’s session with the serving machine and I’ll expect the hotel to replace my time.” Vance wore tennis clothes and appeared flushed. When the officer didn’t respond, he continued. “If my racket gets stolen, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

  He looked up and spotted us. “You two. I might have known you’d be in the thick of it.”

  I gave him my version of Chantal’s little finger wave. It was growing on me. Sarcastic, but immune to criticism. I’m waving. It could almost be mistaken for being civil.

  “Penny?”

  Barb stood a few steps to my right. She wore a shapeless dress in silver, although it might have been blue a hundred washings ago. It fell below her knees, ending just above little white ankle socks. The sneakers on her feet were also white, or had been at one point.

  “I’ll see you later.” Antonia left the two of us.

  “Hi, Barb. What are you doing here?”

  She twisted her hands together. “I just wanted to find out if you knew anything more about Tara. I mean, I wondered if the police have any new leads that you know of.”

  “Nope. Not that Chief Harding is going to tell me. He’s a real treat to deal with. Taken quite a dislike to me.”

  Barb swiped her hair behind her ears. “He’s never been anyone’s favorite person. He keeps his job, though, so I guess he knows the right people. Men like him always do.”

  “It’s hard to say when he’ll name a suspect, especially now that there’s been another murder.”

  Barb’s hands froze and she squeezed them together. “Another murder? What time, I mean, when?”

  “Just a little while ago.”

  She started to sway a little.

  I stepped toward her. “Are you okay?”

  A tremble moved across her face. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Look, you need to sit down.” I gestured to a set of lawn chairs. “Have a seat in one of these.” She took the few necessary steps and collapsed.

  “Lunch finished up quite a while ago. I would have thought you’d be gone by now.” I looked around. “Is Seth still here or are you alone?”

  “Alone.” She gestured to the bike path. “I’ll walk home in a bit. Our house is on the edge of town. Just over a couple of miles on the path. Easy.”

  “So what are you still doing here? You’ve been on your feet all day.” I took in the thin wrists and the collarbones so prominent above the edge of her dress. “Want to grab some lunch?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t, really. We’re working at Berninni Winery tonight, and I, well, I just thought I’d get some fresh air.”

  I’ve seen a lot of good liars, myself included, and Barb wasn’t one of them. The thin shoulders hunched beneath the worn fabric as if prepared for a blow. I hated to be the one to deliver it, but I remembered the red marks around Kim’s neck.

  “Barb, when I said there was a second murder, you didn’t ask who. Why wouldn’t you want to know who was killed? Or maybe you knew already?”

  Barb pressed a hand to her cheek. “Of course not! I don’t know why I didn’t ask who was killed. I was just confused. You can’t possibly think I know something. You can’t possibly!”

  “No, but what was it you asked? Not who the victim was, but what time it happened. All you wanted to know was when the murder took place. Why would that be your only question?”

  “Stop it, Penny. I mean it.” She stood and jerked down the steps back to the hotel.

  I followed close behind. “Why are you up here alone, Barb? You say you wanted to get some fresh air, but you aren’t dressed for a walk. And why, when you hear someone is murdered, would your only question be what time it happened?”

  “I won’t talk about it.” She crossed her arms. “Stop asking me these questions.”

  “Where is he, Barb? Is that why your first concern is what time the murder happened? Because you don’t know where Seth is? Did he run off, and now you’re afraid he’s done something?”

  “Stop it! You can’t prove anything. I’m telling you I only came up here for some fresh air.”

  “Let’s see if you feel like sticking to that story after I describe the marks on Kim’s neck.”

  Barb stopped and tilted her head. “What did you say?”

  “That I’d still like to see you try and protect Seth if you saw the marks on Kim’s neck.”

  “Kim’s dead? The one from Chicago?”

  I nodded. “Killed in the spa. I found her.”

  The tension in Barb’s shoulders eased and they drop
ped. “Seth wouldn’t have any reason to kill her. He doesn’t even know her.”

  “Then why are you so worried? Where is he, Barb?”

  “I have no idea, but I can tell you he didn’t have anything to do with this.” She had some color back in her face, and she looked me straight in the eyes as she said it.

  “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. He didn’t kill Kim. Did he kill Tara?”

  She bit the side of her mouth and some of the color left her cheeks. “Don’t say that. He wouldn’t have hurt Tara. Why would he?” She tossed her hair, but the attempt fell short. “She was just part of his past. Part of both our pasts.”

  She started walking away. “I need to go now. I have to get ready for work soon.”

  I caught up to her. The strength she’d shown defending Seth seemed to have deserted her, and she moved with heavy steps. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, the nails bitten and red. Her breath caught, and she stifled a cry.

  I grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. “What is it? You need to talk to someone and maybe my being a stranger will help. Look at it this way. In another few days, you’ll never see me again.”

  She dug the heels of her palms into her reddened eyes. “It’s nothing, really. Nothing you can help with.”

  “Well, you seem confident he didn’t kill Kim. If he killed Tara, it’s better if you know now. You need to protect yourself. You don’t need him.”

  She shook her head slowly. “You don’t know anything about it. I do need him. I always have. I wish it wasn’t the case, but I’ve always known I can’t live without him.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Same thing.” She sagged. “He didn’t kill either one of them. I don’t have any proof. I just know he didn’t.”

  “Then what is it? Why do you seem so . . . ?”

  “Hopeless?” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m here looking for him.”

  “Right, I get that.”

  “No, Penny, you don’t. I’m looking for him. Here. At a hotel. A hotel that I’ve followed him to many times before. A hotel that’s a short walk from town, from our home. Whenever I can’t find him, I know he’s here. In this hotel. In one of these rooms. With someone else who, in another couple of days, he’ll never see again.”

  Twenty-two

  WITH that, Barb turned and walked down a side path. I let her go and found Antonia sitting on the bench Big Dave had occupied the day before. I took a seat.

  “What was that about?”

  “She’s convinced Seth had nothing to do with the murders.”

  “Well, of course that’s what she’s going to say,” Antonia gave a dismissive wave.

  “No, I really got the feeling she doesn’t think he’s a killer.”

  “So what’s she doing here?”

  “At first she said she was going for a walk. Then she said Seth might be here visiting a guest. A female guest.”

  “Then she’s here looking for him. How very sad.”

  “And it’s not the first time she’s done it.” I stood. “The fact that she doesn’t think Seth is capable doesn’t mean he isn’t. Let’s go back to my room. I want to show you something.”

  A short time later we stood on my balcony looking out over the resort. The sun was low, the sky a vivid turquoise streaked with bronze. Mustard plants and wild clover wove through the vines, the only sound the soft rustle of a light breeze through the trees.

  “Not a day for murder,” Antonia said. “Okay, what did you want me to see?”

  “Take a look at the layout.” The gardens were to the far left, the pool directly below us, and the path to the spa was on our right. Beyond the garden were the woods and the walking path into town. The tennis courts flanked the path. Vineyards lay to the right. An officer walked past the garden, heading toward the spa. Jim walked next to him and said something. The officer shook his head and kept walking.

  “He doesn’t look like he knows anything yet. I hate to think what he’s about to go through,” Antonia said.

  “We know he’s been with Connor playing bocce ball. We should try to figure out where everyone else has been this afternoon.”

  “So we’re agreed you were supposed to be the victim instead of Kim.”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” The memory of Kim’s lifeless eyes made me shudder. “Barb said Seth wouldn’t have killed Kim because he didn’t know her. The same could be said about everyone here but her husband, and we know where Jim was at the time of the murder.”

  Antonia nodded. “You’ve been asking too many questions about Tara. Someone is willing to go to great lengths to stop you.”

  “The question is how did they get to the spa.” I gestured across the landscape. “Barb got here from the bike path. An easy walk from town, she said. Assuming she’s correct about Seth’s movements, he’s here as well.”

  Antonia frowned. “We only have Barb’s word for it that Seth is here at all.”

  “You didn’t see her face. I believe she followed him and he’s somewhere in the hotel.”

  “Okay, I’ll accept that, which brings us to Vance. Huh. Someone with strong hands, likely left-handed. I suppose it narrows things down a bit.”

  “You said in front of everyone at lunch that you were treating me to the massage. Vance could have easily said he was going to the tennis courts and then walked up to the spa.”

  “He’s got a great motive for killing Tara, after watching her fritter away his father’s money. If he had anything to do with her death, he’d certainly want you to quit asking questions. And if he’s already killed once . . .”

  “Then there’s Bill and Big Dave. Bill is here, at least he was after lunch, and Connor said Big Dave didn’t join them at bocce ball. He could be anywhere.”

  She threw up her hands. “Both of them certainly are big guys. Plenty strong enough. This is hopeless. They were all here.”

  The phone in the room rang and I grabbed it.

  “The police just came to get Jim. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?” Connor asked.

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Of course you do. I was being facetious.”

  “Meet me by the pool. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  I left Antonia in her room and joined Connor a few moments later. We sat at one of the patio tables, Connor not saying a word as I recounted finding Kim.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “Why would someone want Kim dead?”

  “I’m not sure Kim was supposed to die. I think maybe they were looking for me.”

  He paled a bit. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “The bike path. Last night in the caves. Maybe someone is desperate to shut me up. And at the spa today, we both had our heads wrapped in towels. We both wore the same robes. In the steam room it’s hard to see. Somebody could have made a terrible mistake.”

  He didn’t say anything. I waited. And waited.

  Finally I couldn’t take the silence. “Say something.”

  “It could have gone either way. It might have been you.”

  I heard his voice, but all I saw was Kim’s face. And her eyes. I would never forget her eyes. I got hot and everything started to spin.

  “Penny?” His voice sounded miles away.

  “I’ll be okay. Just give me a second.”

  “What are you talking about? You aren’t okay. You’re as white as a sheet.” He grabbed me by the arms, and we stood, walking into the lobby.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the bar. You need a drink.”

  “Good idea.” I folded onto a bar bench. “I’ll take a margarita.”

  “I was thinking of water.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  As we sat there, my head cleared and I grew accustomed to the dim light. In the back
of the bar I spotted Bill, alone at a round table in the far corner. On the table in front of him was a stack of folders. He took the bandanna from around his neck and wiped his forehead as he eyed the folders, his mouth tight.

  I nudged Connor. “He doesn’t look very happy.”

  Connor sighed. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Shush.”

  A waitress walked past and stopped at Bill’s table. She set a bottle and glass down and walked away.

  “Look at that,” I said.

  “But then there would be two of us staring at him.”

  “I’m not staring.” I forced myself to look away. “I’m wondering if he’s heard about Kim.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “Well, if I want to find out, no better time than right now.”

  “What’s your plan?” he said.

  “Talk to him. You’re right here. You can keep me out of trouble.”

  “Because I’ve been so successful at keeping you out of trouble on this trip so far.”

  I ignored him and moments later I stood at Bill’s table. He’d opened the top folder and missed my approach. When he finally saw me, he flinched and looked like he wanted to take flight.

  “Hi, there. Can I join you?”

  With a small nod he pulled out the chair next to him and gave me a bleak look. He didn’t seem in any shape to talk, but I pressed on. I was running out of time; Kim already had.

  “I suppose you know what’s happened to Kim.”

  He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he twisted the cap on the whiskey, broke the seal, and poured himself two fingers. Liquid courage. He threw back the drink and nodded his head.

  “Some of the hotel staff were talking about it. It’s awful. And such a terrible coincidence.” His color had improved and he rested his arm on the back of the adjacent chair.

  “What was?”

  “That both of these victims were in our party,” he said.

  “Really? You think it’s a coincidence?”