Chapter 43
The professor swept the towel off a bottle of champagne and Mr. DuBois hurried to my kitchen for glasses.
The sound of the champagne cork popping brought Veronica running down the stairs. “Was someone shot?”
We all laughed. In spite of all the murders, it was a celebratory, happy breakfast.
Afterward, I slid a lion’s mane onto Peaches and we struck out for Color Me Read on foot, surrounded by a posse.
Eric had to go to work but promised he would be close to the bookstore most of the day.
Zsazsa and Goldblum were waiting outside the bookstore, applauding as we walked up. It was like a party. The bookstore would be full of friends.
A local newspaper had run the story with Finley’s photo in the morning edition. That brought an avalanche of customers. For the most part, I didn’t worry about Finley. I had to admit, though, that when someone in a mask entered the store, my breath caught in my throat.
Hilda Rattenhorst dropped by in the afternoon. She entered with a flourish, wearing a deep purple dress and a black cape. “Florrie!” she cried. “I’m so relieved to see you well. I am truly sorry, my dear.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I assured her.
“But I do. I knew about the rug. I knew about the second body. But I wasn’t able to piece anything together to protect you.”
“I guess you can’t foresee everything,” I said cheerily.
She leaned toward me. “My phone has been ringing off the hook. Police are calling me. People are phoning to see if I can help them find someone. Other people want me to connect with their loved ones who have passed. It’s crazy! This afternoon, I’m being flown to New York City, all expenses paid, to be on a TV show tonight!”
“That’s exciting!”
“I’m so nervous that I’m a wreck!”
People had begun to cluster around her, peppering her with requests. She shuffled off to hold court in the parlor. Word spread quickly by social media, especially now that the police were on the trail of the prime suspect in the murder of the man in the rug.
While Hilda was there, her niece, Kaya, came to the store. “I read about what happened. I’m glad you’re okay. I wanted you to know that I’m going back to nursing school. I lost my path for a little while, but that’s what I was meant to do.”
“Any word on the Boyles’ missing son?” I asked.
“Not that I’ve heard. Of course, now that I don’t work there anymore, I don’t hear the scuttlebutt.” She smiled at me and joined Hilda’s admirers in the parlor.
I was astonished to see Cyril show up just as the professor ambled down the stairs.
“You look great!” I said to Cyril.
“I’m feeling like my old self again. Very foolish, of course. I should have known something wasn’t right with Finley.”
“He fooled a lot of people. But didn’t it worry you that he was coming to you for money? Why didn’t you tell Roxie? I would want to know information like that about my husband.”
His eyes met mine. “I was afraid of losing her. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy.”
“You’re everything to her, Cyril. There’s nothing you could do to lose Roxie. She might be upset initially—”
Cyril’s laugh sounded like a bark. “I thought you knew Roxie. In a contest between Finley and me, he would have won every time.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m just so grateful that you survived. I would never have forgiven myself for closing my eyes to Finley’s shortcomings. Though nothing like this ever crossed my mind.”
“Really? You didn’t call Ellis to investigate Finley?”
“No. I honestly did not. I gather Finley must have come to his attention in some way, but I had nothing to do with it.”
“Where’s your guard? Finley’s still out there, you know.”
“He’s watching the house. I’m not too worried. If Finley has any sense, he has left town. Besides, killing me won’t help him anymore. Roxie is at the lawyer’s office right now changing her will and filing for divorce.” He waved and leaped up the stairs as though he had never suffered a vicious attack.
During my lunch break, I walked over to the hospital to see Balthus. Roxie was in his room when I entered.
I was pleased to see him sitting up and lucid. “How do you feel?”
“A little rough, but I’m doing much better. They’re running some tests. I’m hoping to go home this afternoon.”
My breath caught in my throat. Not to that horrible apartment!
Roxie smiled at him. “He’s going to stay in my guest room until he’s back up on his feet. It’s small, but—”
“It’s a vast improvement,” said Balthus. “I could never stay in that other place again.”
I didn’t blame him one bit.
“You look pretty good, Florrie,” said Balthus.
“I didn’t swallow an overdose of Coumadin. We were both lucky that we didn’t inhale the gas for long.”
“Long enough,” said Balthus.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You were afraid of Finley all along.”
Balthus paled and sank back against his pillow. He whispered, “I still am.”
Roxie motioned to me to follow her out of the room. “I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But I do. I was so blind when it came to Finley. He’s a psychopath and I believed everything he said.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. He fooled a lot of people. At least he took you home and didn’t leave you there to die with Balthus and me.”
“That doesn’t make up for anything. Ugh.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “I slept in the same bed with that man and I don’t even know who he is!”
She was going to have a hard time working through this.
“I was so misguided. I was angry with all the wrong people. With you and my dad, especially. I should have realized that you would never let me down. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to forgive.” I gave her a big hug and left, stopping by a café to buy a take-out sandwich for lunch.
I had my back to the street when someone came up beside me and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“Rebecca Porter!”
“Call me Becky.” She tilted her head a little and looked me in the eyes. “I read about what happened to you and I feel just awful.”
“Were you having an affair with Finley?” I asked.
“You thought I had a thing for him? That’s a hoot! I guess it’s not surprising. A lot of women chase him.” She shook her head. “I’m his sister.”
Initially, I didn’t believe her. But as I took in her features, I realized that she had the same chin and sharp nose I had drawn on Finley. Her eyes were different from his, though. “But you were following him. Stalking him.”
She raised one eyebrow but nodded in agreement. “I guess you could say that.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t you hug him and say hi?”
She snorted. “I haven’t hugged Tommy in ten years, probably more. Most of the time we don’t know where he is. Now and again, my mom or I get a call from someone Tommy has swindled.”
“What?”
“We try to ignore those calls. We live in dread of them. And then for a period of years, no one called. We began to wonder if he had died, but I happened to see a picture in a magazine that was clearly Tommy.”
“The travel magazine with the photo of him outside a restaurant.”
“Exactly. I called a private investigator in Washington—”
“Ellis Willoughby the Fourth.”
“Right. He told me Tommy was going by the name Finley Brimble. I flew out here and hung around Georgetown, hoping to see Tommy. The next thing I knew, I couldn’t reach Ellis, and then it was all over the newspapers that his body had been found. Mom and I were afraid of the worst, but Tommy is a con artist, not a killer. And with a private investigator, it could be any of his clients who murdered him.”
“But you’re afraid of Tommy,” I said.
“I am. In a normal situation, I would have been invited to the wedding. I would have met Roxie, who seems really nice. But that would have blown his cover. I had to be careful. I didn’t know how he would respond to my presence here.”
“You went to dinner with him,” I pointed out.
“And was promptly told to leave town. I lied and said I was here on business. My mom and I own a store and we travel occasionally on buying trips.”
“Is your dad alive?”
Becky took a deep breath. “We don’t know. My mom says Tommy got his dishonest ways from our dad. But I’m not so sure that can be passed down genetically. We kids were better off when Dad left. He drank the grocery money and couldn’t hold a job. We tiptoed around, trying not to set off his anger. Still, I Google him sometimes. Porter’s a pretty common name. But I figure he’ll pop up if he died or did something that landed him in jail.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“Don’t be. Mom and I have a good life now. Deep down, though, we’re always waiting for the next phone call about a disaster Tommy has caused for someone.”
I looked at the huge window in the front of the shop. “You know he’s out there. They didn’t catch him.”
“My best guess is that he’s already on a train or a flight, planning his next evil game.”
I had to get back to the store. “They’re blocking off our street for a Halloween party tonight. I hope you’ll come. I’m sure Roxie will be there. You two have a lot to talk about.”
Becky smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
When I walked into Color Me Read, Hilda had left. Goldblum, Veronica, and Jacquie were chatting at the checkout desk.
“I’m glad to catch you all together,” I said. “No matter whether we believe in ghosts or not, I think we can all agree that Harry cannot move himself.”
I saw some smirks and grins. “Okay, which one of you was moving him?”
Jacquie confessed, “I was trying to spook Maxwell. It drives me crazy that he’s so adamant that ghosts can’t exist. So when I saw Harry in his office, I would move him.”
Goldblum guffawed. “I was moving Harry for the same reason!”
Veronica avoided my eyes. “I might have moved him a few times to spook Bob.”
We all laughed. No harm done. It was all in good Halloween fun.