Godfrey listened without as much as a sigh or cough as I told him about my arrangement with Belinda. “Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to Bradley,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I plan to tell him. Once Belinda finds the evidence. And I’m positive she will.”
“You should know me by now. I’m not about to blab anything to anyone. But I know you. Your conscience won’t leave you alone until you let Bradley in on your plan. Aargh. I have to admit, you may be on the right track. Blackmail and murder often go hand in hand.”
“At least my sister and Jason will be happy I’m staying longer.”
“They won’t be the only ones. You can add me to the list.”
I wasn’t sure how to take his comment. That’s what happens when you kiss someone out of nowhere like I impulsively did with Godfrey a while back. Now I have to live with it. I muttered something pleasant and inconsequential and told him I’d let him know what Belinda finds out. Then, I changed into form-fitting jeans and a striking V-neck top before hustling off to meet Bradley at Tim Hortons.
Belinda was right. I was Lucifer in wedges.
• • •
The second I opened the door to the Tim Hortons on Hamilton Street, I inhaled a combination of seasonal scents that somehow worked: cinnamon coffee, creamed soups, and donuts. Bradley was seated by the window and gave me a huge smile the second I approached the small two-person table.
“Great timing. I ordered your favorite hot latte. I figured you’d be freezing. Grab a seat and I’ll get it.”
I took off my jacket and threw it over the back of the chair. When Bradley returned with the latte and placed it in front of me, he tilted his head. “You look pretty snazzy for a fast-food meal. Might as well spit it out. What nefarious plan did you come up with?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Like Saran Wrap.”
“Let me begin by saying it’s not illegal.” At least I don’t think it’s illegal.
“Oh, brother. I haven’t heard it and already I’m worried.”
“Relax. Take a sip of your coffee before we put in our orders.”
It was hard to read Bradley’s expressions between his coffee drinking and my need to go full speed ahead with the explanation. I backtracked to my conversation with Ronny and went on to detail my subsequent chat with John. Then, on to the jugular—the undeniable possibility of blackmail and my deal with Belinda.
Bradley rubbed his right temple and gulped the remainder of his coffee. “You’re right. It’s not exactly illegal in the pure sense of the word, but it sure crosses every ethical boundary. Not that bankers don’t do that all the time, but they do it at the request of their customers.”
“That’s what Belinda said.”
“Tell me”—Bradley reached across the table and held my wrist—“how’d you convince her to take that chance?”
“By extending her sublet an extra three months.”
“I don’t know who’s more diabolical—you or Donovan.”
“Hey, I’m one of the good guys. And you should be overjoyed I’m staying here longer.”
“I’m overjoyed, all right, but I’m stunned. Have you thought of what you’d do next if Belinda does manage to find out if money had been funneled in? You can’t tell those deputies or it will cost your tenant her job. And her reputation.”
“I suppose it would depend on where Donovan’s payoff money originated. I could always nag Grizzly Gary and make him think looking into bank accounts was his idea. I’ve done that sort of thing before.”
“Norrie, you’ve done that exact thing in the past. And by the way, you really should let Don and Theo in on your plan when we see them tomorrow. Stephanie and her husband, too.”
“Absolutely. And for all we know, they might have a better idea of what to do if Belinda uncovers the truth. I’m glad Don and Theo decided on tomorrow night for the potluck. Perfect timing. I’ll pick up one of Wegmans entrées and a dozen mini-rolls.”
“Speaking of food, I’m starving. What are you up for? I’ll go place the order.”
• • •
The next day I was a veritable jack-in-the-box as I waited for Belinda to call. Every time I heard the winery phone ring—and believe me, it rang a lot—I jumped. By midmorning, Lizzie was most likely sick of me asking her if anyone called for me. I finally broke down and told her I was expecting to hear from someone about information regarding Donovan. I left it at that.
Six and a half hours went by and no call from Belinda. Either she hadn’t had any luck, or she had been escorted out of the bank, possessions and all, by security. Then, at twenty of five, I got a text from her: $ in. Will call U 2 nite.
Money in! Money in! She found something. The annoying tic in my eye came back with a vengeance and it was accompanied by one on my upper lip. I raced to the restroom and leaned into the mirror. Not discernible to the naked eye. Still, I knew the stress had taken its toll. Once back at my desk, I texted Bradley: She found deposits. XOXO
• • •
“Belinda Kuentz may call me any second,” I announced to Don and Theo when Bradley and I arrived at their place a little past seven.
Don looked at Theo. “Do we know her?”
“It’s Norrie’s tenant.”
“Oh, okay.”
I handed Don the carefully wrapped entrée from Wegmans and walked toward their living room. “I’ve been dying to tell you this all day but wanted to wait until Stephanie and Derek got here.”
“Stephanie’s running late. Can’t you tell us and repeat it for them?”
“I’ll wait until you stash the food in the kitchen. I don’t want you to miss a single word.”
Don shot Bradley a look and he shrugged. “Better brace yourselves.”
With the food safely out of reach from Isolde, and all of us seated in the living room, I spewed out the blackmail theory, my conversation with Ronny, and the reason I’d be gracing Seneca Lake with my presence for an additional few months.
“If you don’t hear from that woman in the next hour,” Theo said, “you better make sure she wasn’t arrested. And by the way, the bank account search was a pretty good move on your part. Not exactly principled, but effective.”
“See?” I glanced at Bradley. “Theo thinks it was effective.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t effective, I said it wasn’t ethical, and Theo said the same thing.”
Don pointed to a cheese and cracker platter on their coffee table. “Forget about who said what, it’s like watching an old Abbott and Costello movie.”
Just then, their bell rang and the Ipswiches came inside. Each of them toting a pie.
“You’ve got to hear this,” I could hear Don tell them, “Norrie’s taken the sleuthing to a whole new level. And by the way, I’d stick to credit unions when it comes to banking.”
Everybody spoke at once as they tried to tell Stephanie and Derek what I’d done. As more and more details unfolded, the couple looked my way with an occasional “Is that true, Norrie?” or “You didn’t really ask her to do that, did you?”
I topped a cracker with salami and reached for the mustard knife. “It’s not as if the sheriffs’ offices could get a subpoena. Evidence and all that. I had to use the resources I had.”
Stephanie perused the cheese platter before selecting a slice of cheddar with an olive. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do next if those bank accounts point to blackmail payoffs?”
Just then, Don stood as if the place was on fire. “Good grief. We’ve been so busy with Norrie’s news I forgot to ask what everyone wants to drink. Wine, soda, coffee, tea, you name it.”
Wine was the overall winner and Theo immediately got up and walked to the kitchen, followed by Don. Our dinner, a potpourri of dishes ranging from Don’s fettucine with mushrooms to Wegmans’ braised beef and broccoli, was topped off with strawberry rhubarb and apple pies, baked by Stephanie’s mother-in-law and part-time babysitter. Derek mentioned she had also baked sugar cookies for the boys. A bribe for good behavior, no doubt.
With full stomachs, we lingered over coffee and did what we set out to do—bandy our theories around. I was now convinced someone at LaVerna Vineyards was responsible for Donovan’s death, although the Botox seemed an odd weapon of choice. Like a game of Clue, we named our suspects, announced their murder weapons, and proceeded to support our theories. Then Belinda called and everything changed.