Laina Turner - The Trixie Pristine Boxed Set Page 18

  “This isn’t going to be good news, is it?” Berklie interrupted.

  “Let him finish, Berklie,” Sophie told her.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s not good news,” he said patiently. “There was a car fire this morning, and we think it was set to scare Trixie, all three of you probably.”

  “What do you mean, Clive, set to scare us?” Sophie asked.

  “Upon initial investigation, it appears as if the car was rigged with some sort of device causing it to catch on fire, and we found a Hello Kitty backpack near the scene.”

  “You think Stephen did this?” Berklie exclaimed.

  “You’re kidding me!” Sophie said at the same time.

  They were both as shocked as I had been.

  “It looks that way.”

  “So you think we are in danger, then,” Berklie said in a matter of fact tone. “Was anyone hurt?”

  He nodded. “I’m afraid so on both accounts. You are all going to have to take extra safety precautions until we can find him.”

  Berklie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Someone was hurt because Stephen wants to get to us?”

  Clive nodded.

  “Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say,” said Berklie.

  “I’ll tell you what I told Trixie. None of this is your fault. You aren’t responsible for someone else’s actions. The best course of action is to stay calm. Be careful. Let me and my guys find him and put him in jail where he belongs.”

  “Do you think Stephen could be the one who poisoned Harvey? Maybe it was another way to scare us?” Sophie asked.

  “I don’t think the two incidents are related. It was likely just coincidental timing. In the meantime, I don’t want any of you to be at the store alone. I will have extra police patrols scheduled at the shop and at each of your homes. We already started working to put a tap on the shop phone, and we will do the same for all your cells and home phones.”

  “We can work the schedule so we aren’t at the store alone, but what about at home?” Berklie said. “All of us live alone or with kids.”

  “I know, Berklie. The extra patrol will be driving by your house frequently, and if Stephen tries anything, we will be there. I’m making a few calls today to try and get some more intel on him. I just need you three to be patient and watchful. Don’t take any chances. Call me or the station at any sign of trouble. Even if you think it could be your overactive imagination. You don’t want to take chances.”

  We nodded our agreement.

  “Listen, ladies, I need to head back to the station. Call me if you need me.”

  “Okay, Clive,” I said. “Thanks.”

  He left, and we all just sat there for a few minutes in silence. Sophie put her head on the table for a minute and then lifted it slowly.

  “I feel like I am dreaming. How is this happening?” Sophie said. “I thought this was supposed to be a quaint small town. Quiet, boring. How did this happen to us?”

  “We’re just lucky?” I said dryly. “We’ve never had things happen like this before.”

  “How can you joke about this?” Sophie asked.

  “It is what it is. Nothing we can do to change what has already happened,” Berklie said.

  “She’s right, Soph. We just have to make the best of it. You know when life hands you lemons…”

  “Okay, stop. I don’t need the trite clichés,” Sophie said in mock horror.

  “We should probably get to the shop and relieve Betty,” Berklie said.

  “You two go on. I want to run out to the Truedoe place and have a chat with Doris. Maybe we can clear up this other mystery. This problem will at least take my mind off our bigger problem.”

  “Are you sure you should go out there alone?” Sophie asked. “Just five minutes ago Clive said to stay together.”

  “He said to stay together at the shop. We can’t be joined at the hip.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Sophie.

  “I agree with her,” said Berklie. “I don’t think we should go off to strange places alone.”

  “Stop. I’m worried too, but I will be careful, and it will be fine. I won’t stay out there long, and then I will come right to the shop. I want to find out who killed Harvey.”

  “Fine, but call us when you get to Doris’s and when you leave.”

  “Okay, Berklie, I will.”

  As I was driving out to the Truedoe place, I tried to put all things Stephen out of my mind and focus on the matter at hand. Who the hell poisoned Harvey? How could an eighty-seven-year-old man be a target? I admit I was more than a little curious to talk to Doris, as this whole divorce and new girlfriend thing at their age just baffled me. Why, I wasn’t sure. I guess it just seemed so odd at that age. But then I wasn’t that age, so maybe I just didn’t have a clue as to what I was talking about.

  I pulled into the driveway to see a few cars. I assumed maybe friends and family comforting Doris. I hadn’t really thought about that. I didn’t want to intrude on her grieving time. What had I been thinking? It was completely inappropriate of me to come out here now. I started my car back up and put it in reverse when someone came out on the front porch and yelled.

  “Who’s out there?”

  I put my vehicle back in park and rolled down my window. I wasn’t sure who it was who had just yelled at me, and feeling ten kinds of foolish, I yelled back, “It’s Trixie Pristine. I was going to stop in and chat with Doris, but I see she has company, and I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Just come on in. Doris loves company. Come on, now!” the lady said waving toward the house.

  I shut the engine off again and grabbed my purse, wondering what I was getting myself into. This surely was going to be interesting. I walked into the house to find five women, including Doris, sitting around a big table in the kitchen drinking coffee. The remnants of a coffee cake and other pastries were evident by the dirty plates stacked up by the sink. It almost had a party-like atmosphere. Not exactly what I was expecting. I recognized Doris sitting at the far end of the table but wasn’t sure if she would remember who I was. It had been a long time since we’d met. I had been in high school and looked much different than I did today. I said hi to the women as I walked around the table to Doris.

  “Hi, Doris. My name is Trixie Pristine. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at one of your big summer picnics years ago when I was just a kid.”

  She looked me over shrewdly, as only a person of her age could without being called out as rude. “I remember. You came with your parents, John and Liza.”

  I was surprised she remembered. “Yes, I did. I am sorry to barge in here like this, I know the timing isn’t great, but I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes about Harvey.”

  She cackled. “What do you want to know about that old goat?”

  I looked around wondering if I should ask her if she wanted to talk some place more private, and she must have sensed what I was going to ask.

  “Whatever you have to say you can say in front of these gals. I’m too old to have secrets. And have a seat. You’re hovering is making me nervous. Barbara, get this girl a cup of coffee.”

  A white-haired lady in a bright print muumuu, who I was assuming was Barbara, got up and grabbed a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, and sat it down in front of me. One of the other ladies at the end of the table slid the creamer pitcher and bowl of sugar down toward me. Once I doctored up my coffee, I looked back up to Doris who was watching me expectantly, as were all of her friends. I felt a little put on the spot.

  “As you probably know, Harvey was murdered at my shop,” I started out.

  Doris nodded her head yes, while her friends surrounding her murmured their how awfuls and that’s too bads.

  “Because of that, and because the poisoned cupcake came from my friend Avery’s place, I would like to find out who did this. I know it was neither myself nor Avery, and to get the suspicion off us, well, off Avery mostly, I was hoping maybe you had an idea of wh
o might have done this?”

  “I already told this to Clive, and it’s no secret that there was no love lost between Harvey and me, the scalawag. Forty-plus years of chasing skirts I put up with from him, and this was the last straw. But I didn’t kill him. That would have been too good for that bastard. I was divorcing him so I could enjoy watching him suffer, once he realized his girlfriend wouldn’t like him so much when she had to cook and clean for him and wash his drawers, all while watching me enjoy his money.”

  “Do you know his girlfriend?”

  Doris snorted. “You mean the current one? That floozy’s name is Shree Pointer. You might know her. She works at Drake’s. What she saw in that old man I don’t know. She could have got younger and better. Guess she can now.” Doris and her friends laughed.

  I did know Shree Pointer. She had worked at Drake’s bar for as long as I had been old enough to go in there and probably before that.

  ”I know I may seem cold and callous to you, honey, but when you get to be my age you’re lucky every day you wake up. That’s why I finally had enough of Harvey’s shenanigans. I decided I was getting too old to let the world pass me by, and out there somewhere is a man that will treat me right.”

  While I agreed with her in theory, and admired her spirit, I sat there thinking I surely hoped to not be still looking for Mr. Right in forty more years. If I was, I surely wouldn’t have the energy to keep looking. I would stop and just get a cat or something.

  “I have no clue who killed him, honey. I wish I did.”

  I sat there for a second, sipping my coffee. “Did he have any enemies?”

  “Besides me? Not that I knew of. He usually just hung around with Arnie Stillman and Don Lupet. If he wasn’t with them, he was with Shree or whomever before her, or here putzing around with something out in the barn.”

  I finished my coffee and pushed my chair back to get up. “Thanks, Doris. I knew it was a long shot, and I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No bother, come out any time. I like visitors.”

  I walked out of her house pretty certain she hadn’t killed Harvey and surprised he was dating Shree. Drake’s was on the way to Read-Wine so I thought I would stop by and see if she was in yet. It wouldn’t take long.

  Pulling into the parking lot of Drake’s, I saw a couple cars and was hopeful one might be Shree’s. Walking in, I took a second to let my eyes adjust to the dimness and then saw Shree behind the counter stocking the beer cooler. She had to be pushing sixty and was still wearing tight jeans, a low cut halter-top and four-inch heels. And I admit, she had quite a figure. I walked up to the bar and sat on a stool and waited for her to notice I was there. It only took a second, and she walked over.

  “What can I get ya, darling?”

  “You’re Shree Pointer, right? I’m Trixie Pristine. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

  She looked at me suspiciously, rightfully so, since I was sure she didn’t have a clue as to who I was.

  “You’re the owner of that new bookstore in town? The one where Harvey was killed and that other lady a few months back,” she said, snapping the piece of gum she had in her mouth.

  Or maybe she did know who I was. Not sure I was happy my claim to fame was dead bodies at my store. “Yep, that’s me.”

  “What do you want? Should I even be talking to you? You might have killed my Harvey.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she looked at me.

  “I promise you I didn’t kill your Harvey, but that is why I’m here. I wanted to ask if you had any thoughts as to who might have killed him or who his enemies were.” I also wanted to comment that she didn’t look all that broken up about it. Actually, no more than Doris had. Kind of odd, I thought. Harvey must not have been the type of guy to attract weepy females.

  “Just that bitch of a wife, Doris!” she said vehemently. “She was all that was standing in the way of Harvey being happy with me.”

  “But they were getting a divorce. How was she standing in your way?”

  “She wasn’t going to make it easy for him to leave. She was greedy and wanted his money and was jealous he had me.”

  “Is there anyone else who might have wanted him dead besides Doris? Maybe an ex-girlfriend?”

  “Before me he dated Dawn Baker, but she’s with Don Lupet now, so I don’t think she would have done anything to Harvey. Why are you being so nosey anyway?”

  “Since he was killed at my place, I want to know who did this. It doesn’t make my business look good.”

  “True,” she said thoughtfully. “Two dead people in less than a year. Wow, your place could be considered hazardous to your health. We’ve never had a death here.” She laughed. I didn’t.

  I pulled a business card out of my purse and set it on the counter in front of her. “In case you think of anything else.”

  She took it, stuffed it in her cleavage, and turned back to stocking the beer cooler without another word. I walked out thinking how different she was from Doris, and if this was the kind of woman Harvey liked no wonder they didn’t have a lasting marriage. But why did they wait until eighty-seven was still the question in my head.

  I got to work about ten minutes later and the place was empty. “Please tell me it hasn’t been like this all day?” I asked Berklie, who was behind the counter rearranging the coffee mugs.

  “Nah. It hasn’t been super busy, but just a little off from the norm. We are just having that mid-morning lull. You didn’t call when you left Doris’s,” she said in an accusing tone.

  “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Plus, I swung by Drake’s after leaving Doris’s house on the way here. Speaking of safety, where’s Sophie?”

  “She just ran to the bank to make the deposit. You stopped at Drake’s? You starting mid-morning drinking now?”

  “No. I wanted to talk to Harvey’s girlfriend, Shree Pointer. She works there.”

  “The bottle blonde who has been there since we were twenty-one?” she asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  “And she was dating Harvey? Really?”

  I held my hands up. “I know, I know. It seems strange, but she confirmed it.” Though she was madder at Doris for standing in the way of true love than she seemed broken up over Harvey’s death. She didn’t really seem upset at all.

  Berklie shuddered. “That’s just weird. It goes to show you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

  “Tell me about it. The older I get, the more I realize everyone has a dysfunction of some kind.”

  “Did you learn anything useful besides the dysfunction of relationships?”

  “I learned Harvey and Doris were completely different, that Doris was glad to be rid of him, and that he’d had a girlfriend with several other girlfriends before her. Did I learn anything useful in regards to who killed Harvey? Not a thing, just a lot of gossip. Neither Doris nor Shree could think of anyone who would want to harm him. Maybe I’m just wasting my time, and it was a random thing. Someone who just gets their kicks out of poisoning people.” I sighed.

  Berklie looked at me strangely. “That’s a weird attitude to have. Not to mention scary. I don’t want to think there is just an overabundance of crazies out there. I want someone to have wanted to kill Harvey so we don’t have to fear for our safety every time we want to eat a cupcake.”

  “I know.” I sighed again. “I think I’m just tired and frustrated. I’m a librarian, not a detective.”

  “Frustrated about what?” Sophie asked as she entered the store behind me.

  I jumped, a little, startled. “Wow, you sure snuck up on me. I didn’t even hear you walk up.”

  “You were focused on talking to Berklie. I gather your morning wasn’t as successful as you wanted it to be?”

  “No. I should probably just focus on the matter at hand, and that’s the business of running Read-Wine.”

  “Speaking of running things, since Avery’s place is closed right now and people are still willing to eat thin
gs from us, we need to make a stop at the bakery and pick up some more goodies for later today and tomorrow morning. We are almost out,” Berklie said, motioning to the display case, which was mostly empty, to my surprise. “People haven’t stopped eating our food, so that should tell us something.”

  “It tells us people want sweets so bad they are willing to risk death,” I said wryly.

  “Shows what’s important to people. I’ll stay here. You two run over, and Berklie, get Trixie one of those fritters she likes to cheer her up,” Sophie said, waving us away.

  “That’s a great idea. Come with me, Trix.”

  “We’re not supposed to be here alone, remember? Clive just told us this a few hours ago, and we are already ignoring him for the second time,” said Trixie. “Why am I the only one who seems concerned?”

  “You’ll be gone a half hour. I’ll be fine. Now go. I’ll hold my cell dialed to 911 and be ready to press send at a moment’s notice.”

  Berklie went to the back room to get her coat. I had never taken mine off so we walked out the door and down the block to the bakery. I felt guilty going against Clive’s request for us to stick together, but I didn’t want to live in fear either. If Stephen was out there watching, we needed to show him we weren’t going to be afraid or intimidated.

  Chapter 7

  Hurry, Berklie. It’s starting to rain,” I said as we rounded the corner and only had a few more steps to go. I only had a lightweight jacket on, which would easily soak through with a few drops.

  “Wait a minute,” she said, stopping in her tracks. She was looking out to the parking lot that served all the area businesses in this building complex.

  “What?” I said, following her gaze, trying to see what she was looking at.

  “Isn’t that George Parker? Over there by the black Sequoia?”

  I scanned the lot. “Oh, I see him now. Normally I like black cars, but I think I prefer the Sequoia in that mother-of-pearl color. I saw one the other day at the grocery store and—”

  “Who cares about the color of the damn car? Who is that he’s talking to?”

  “Why do we care who George is talking to?” George Parker was our mayor and had been the last twenty years. He had been under investigation more than once for misappropriation of city funds but always managed to be absolved of any wrongdoing. Having strong ties to the city council in the way of his family sure didn’t hurt any. Small town politics meant everyone was connected and had each other’s back. Something I wasn’t so sure of. He just was one of those people where it always seemed like everything coming out of his mouth had a political purpose. He was always looking for an angle. Berklie hated him. George had once screwed her and Tom over on a real estate deal, and she made no bones that she thought he was a slimy politician who only cared about himself and got away with things because people were afraid of him.