Thirty-four

“Dr. Randall Donovan?” I asked, just to be sure she didn’t think Hank was a doctor.

“Yes. Wasn’t his death just awful? But between the two of us, he was kind of a jerk. You’d think he would have realized how proud I am of my store, but he made fun of the merchandise. I was a little bit offended. Who does that?” She chuckled. “But despite all that pompous superiority, I got the last laugh because he bought something!”

“Did he ask you to wrap it?”

“Nope.”

“He didn’t happen to mention who it was for?”

“Are you kidding? He couldn’t stop putting people down long enough to talk about anything else.”

Too bad. He could very well have bought it as a gift for his wife.

“Was anyone with him?” I asked.

She stopped and stared at me in alarm. “I see what you’re getting at. The person who killed him could have been with him.” Her gaze dropped to the items in her hands, which she slid into a bag. “No. I don’t think so. I can’t imagine who would have wanted to spend more than two minutes with the man. Don’t get me wrong. It’s never right to murder anyone. Not even if he was a total nincompoop. But he was so obnoxiously pretentious, I just about wanted to strangle him myself.”

I thanked her and left the store with Trixie. The scarf had not been on Randall when we’d found him. That meant he had left it wherever he was staying or he had already given it to someone as a gift. Or the killer had taken it with him. Where had Randall planned to stay? Maybe Dave knew. Not that that would help, since he wasn’t sharing much with me about the murders.

Just to stretch our legs and enjoy the weather, Trixie and I took the long way back. We rambled along the lakefront near Tequila Mockingbird. Their outdoor bar was open and the place was packed. We walked on a little bit to a bench where Trixie chased ducks into the water, yapping and running after them.

I sat and was pondering the situation when Macon plopped down and handed me a drink.

“It’s a watermelon lemonade slush. Reminds me of summer days in the deep South.”

“Thank you.”

“Any advances on the murder investigations?” he asked.

“If there have been, I don’t know about them.”

“I can’t imagine that you’re a serious suspect. Not with so many people despising Hank. It’s funny that those two were linked in death.”

“How so?” I asked.

“On the surface they appeared to be opposite ends of the spectrum. Hank was a lowlife at best and Randall was technically well educated and recognized as an authority of sorts. But the truth is that they had something in common. Neither one of them was what he appeared to be. They were both living a lie.”

“Hank pretended to be a doctor.”

“That’s one example. Hank was a chameleon. He was whatever you wanted him to be, as long as it gained him access to your purse strings.”

“You’re not saying Randall did that, too?”

“No, but he was equally deceptive. He made a name for himself arguing against love. Claimin’ it was a societal expectation. But he wasn’t completely stupid, and I have no doubt that he had some familiarity with the workings of the human brain. He denied the existence of love, yet was married. There you have it, my dear. Randall was every bit as much a fraud as Hank.”

I considered what he’d said.

He pointed toward a boat on the water. “Take Maddie Stevens out there on that boat, for instance. She’s pretending she doesn’t know how to sail. It’s a good thing she had me around to match her up. I expect they’ll have a bit of a falling-out when they discover that they’re both pretending to be someone they’re not. The irony is that their true identities are a good match.”

In the boat next to Maddie’s, a dog barked and jumped into the water. He swam straight toward us.

“Is that Cooper?” I asked.

“From the panic on John’s face, I’d say so.”

On the boat, John leaned over the side, yelling Cooper’s name. Laura was with him. I wondered if Ben knew about that.

I rushed to the water’s edge. Trixie continued to bark.

Cooper swam steadily toward us. “Come on, Cooper!” I called.

John had come about in the sailboat, but the wind wasn’t cooperating and he couldn’t get close to Cooper.

I waded into the lake with my arms outstretched. “Come on, boy! You can do it!”

At last he reached me. I escorted him to shore, where he shook water out of his fur and then proceeded to greet Trixie.

“I guess they were borin’ him,” said Macon.

I waved at John and yelled, “He’s okay! I’ll take him to the inn.”

Macon chuckled. “And Randall claimed there’s no such thing as love.”

“Did you know that John was accused of sexual misconduct with a student? And then she died two years later in a car accident?” I blurted.

“Really? I would imagine there’s more to that story than meets the eye.”

My drenched skirt wrapped around my legs, and I had a feeling a little more of me was meeting the eyes of onlookers than I cared to imagine. I thanked Macon, called the dogs, and hurried back to the inn.

Even though I ducked in through the registration entrance, there was no avoiding all the odd glances. Trixie and Cooper ran up the stairs faster than I could go.

I barged into the apartment. Huey greeted us at the door.

Ben ambled out of the bedroom, his hair damp as though he had just showered. He raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a revealing outfit.”

I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. “I have your T-shirt.”

“Good timing.” He removed it from the bag and held it up. “This is a different green.”

Uh-oh.

“I think I like it better. What else did you buy?” He peered in the bag.

“Just a scarf.” I took it out to show him. “Twinkletoes and Marmalade did a number on a similar one. I thought I’d better have it on hand when the owner of the other one realizes it’s missing.” I stashed the shredded one in the bag with it.

“Oh yeah. Paige has one like that.”

“Ben, I just saw John sailing with Laura.”

He scowled. “I guess I can’t be too critical of her. After all, I’m going out with Paige again. Did you steal Cooper from him?”

“Cooper decided he would rather run with Trixie than sail with John.”

“Dogs are weird,” Ben said.

On that note, I hurried to the shower. When I emerged from the bathroom, Huey, Cooper, and Trixie waited for me. They were so cute. It brightened my day that they had waited for me outside the bathroom door.

Only then did it dawn on me that Zelda’s cats were missing.

I pulled on jeans and a V-neck top. I couldn’t help thinking how cute the paw-print scarf would be with it. Tempting as it was to wear it, I knew I had to reserve the new one for the guest who had lost the tattered scarf. I dug in the closet for my white Keds and jean jacket. I found the shoes immediately, but there was no sign of the jacket. Maybe I had left it downstairs.

“Ben?” I called. “Have you seen Zelda’s cats?”

“They’re all in my room.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I am the cat whisperer.”

Sure he was. I couldn’t believe it. How could a person change so much that cats would suddenly be drawn to him?

We walked out together.

“Is Huey invited on your date tonight?” I asked.

“You bet. Paige really likes him.”

No sooner had we hit the lobby than Oma waved me down.

“Liebling, Macon is looking for you.” She turned and waved her hand. “Here she is!”

“Holly, darlin’, could you give me a hand outside, please?” asked Macon.

“Sure. What do you need?”

“This way, sweetheart.”

I followed Macon outside to a red-and-white checked cloth spread on the ground for a picnic. He handed me my apricot pashmina. I wanted to ask how he’d gotten it, but only managed to blurt, “What’s this?”

“I need some publicity photos, honey. Your sweet Oma volunteered you. And Zelda gave me your lovely pashmina.”

I was as good a sport as anyone, but publicity photos? Why hadn’t anyone told me about this? “I’m not dressed for anything like that.”

“You’re fine. They should look very casual.”

I capitulated. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just sit right down and pretend you’re havin’ a wonderful time.”

I hoped I didn’t need to tell him that I wasn’t a professional model. Surely he could see that. “Maybe I should brush my hair?”

“Sweetheart, you’re perfect just like that. Thank you so much for helpin’ me out.”

I was about to respond when I realized that he was talking to John. Where did he come from? Oh no! I smelled a big stinking Macon rat and jumped to my feet.

“Macon, thanks for the effort, but . . .” John leaned over and whispered something to Macon.

“I don’t care what he says, I have not been following him,” I protested.

I tugged Macon aside, and in the lowest whisper possible, I said, “I thought I told you that he may have murdered one of his students.”

Macon patted my arm. “You two are so perfectly suited for each other. Now, don’t embarrass me by making a fuss.” He waved toward the inn. “The photographer and nigh on to two dozen people are watchin’ you.”

I sat down. “Let’s get this over with.”

John joined me on the checkered cloth. “I haven’t had dinner. Was this your idea?”

“Obviously not. I thought I was done with you.”

Macon deposited Twinkletoes by my side. She pawed at a basket. Cooper and Trixie looked on with interest. They must have smelled something wonderful.

John held up bowls with their names on them. “I assume we know who these are for. Let’s see what’s in the basket.”

I peeked inside, which fascinated Twinkletoes and the dogs. “Looks like fried chicken.”

“I haven’t had that in years!” John handed me a plate before helping himself to a chicken thigh. He bit into it, swallowed and said, “Mmm. Macon knows his stuff. This tastes homemade.”

Just to get his goat, I said, “I cooked it.”

He choked and grabbed his throat with one hand.

“Now, how’s that going to look in the pictures?”

He blinked. “You’re joking? That’s not funny.”

“Look, neither one of us wants to be here. Macon clearly set us up. So let’s just sit out here and be civil while you eat and then we never have to have anything to do with each other again.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be glad when you quit lurking in my trees.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I haven’t been doing that?”

“I’ve seen you at my house,” John insisted.

“Maybe there’s someone who looks like me. Maybe I have a doppelgänger,” I said sarcastically. “But it wasn’t me!”

“Oh, right.”

“The trees?” In my head, I could hear Aunt Birdie telling me I looked a mess. “John, where are you staying?”

His head fell forward like he couldn’t believe I had asked such a stupid question, then he raised it to look at me. “Do you never give up?”

“Is it a bungalow? Next to the house where Hank was murdered?”

John laughed cynically. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“You’re the one who looked at me with binoculars.”

“And that’s how I knew it was you.”

“Ahh. That explains a lot. Zelda lives next door to you. I wasn’t sneaking around your house. I was creeping around Zelda’s house.”

“I’m sure she’s very happy about that.” He clearly didn’t believe me.

“You’re afraid of me!” I laughed. “Cooper likes me.” I said in my defense.

“He’s also fond of rolling in cow pies.”

“That’s a nice comparison!” I pretended to be appalled.

John couldn’t help smiling.

I sipped my wine, and while John ate potato salad, I launched into the tale of Zelda and Hank and how it was that I might have appeared to be sneaking around John’s backyard, even though I was really in Zelda’s backyard.

“You brought Trixie with you to lure Hank away?” he asked.

“Of course not. I left her in my apartment, but Ben must have stopped in and let her out. How did you know about that?”

“She’s the one who gave you away. She came to my door.”

“She caught up to me at Hot Hog.”

“That’s a peculiar story, complete with weird getup, but I have learned that life can be strange, so I’m willing to buy it. I suppose you have equally bizarre explanations for the other times?”

“Other times?”

“When I met Laura at Café Chat and when we were at Hair of the Dog. You can’t tell me you just happened to be there.”

“Actually, I can. When you were at Café Chat, I was picking up medicine for Gustav at Heal! And when you saw me at Hair of the Dog, I was walking back from WAG where I went to talk with Paige about Sky. This is a small town. Just because you’ve been hiding in your house writing for a few weeks and you haven’t met me before doesn’t mean you’ll never see me again.”

“Not if you keep coming to my house to spy on me.”

“If you mean when you saw me with the binoculars, that’s very easy to explain. Some idiot told Officer Dave that I was in Zelda’s yard when Hank was murdered, and now I’m a suspect. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

He focused on the potato salad. He didn’t look like he thought it was absurd at all.

“No!” The word blew out of my mouth. “It was you,” I uttered as I began to put the pieces together. “That’s why you’re afraid of me? You’re the one who thinks I killed Hank?”

Trixie nudged my hand in sympathy and received a bit of soft chicken breast without the fried part as thanks. Here I was, being nice to John. “I can’t believe this. What would posses you to imagine such a crazy thing?”

“Why did you sneak back to the scene of the crime?”

I nearly blew up. “I was trying to figure out who could have reported seeing me there in the middle of the night! But now it all makes perfect sense. You know what? I think Cooper and Trixie, and Twinkletoes, and, oh my, especially Macon, were completely wrong about the two of us. You clearly have some kind of problem with women, given what happened at Douthier University and now this. I’m sorry. We—”

“How did you know about Douthier?”

“Laura mentioned something about it, so Zelda looked it up.”

John had stopped eating. “I’m a little shocked to hear this attitude from you. Of all people, I thought you would understand.”

“Me? Why?”

“You were fired from a job.”

“That was entirely different. There were extenuating circumstances. My boss was doing something illegal, and I caught him at it.”

“Then you should understand that there might be explanations and unusual situations when other people lose their jobs.”

I ran my wineglass over my forehead, appreciating the coolness of the condensation on my hot head. “Okay. I’m listening. What excuse is there for sleeping with a student?”

“It never happened.”

He had my attention.

“She was in one of my classes. Kind of an average student, actually—I barely noticed her. One day she told the dean of students that we were having an affair and that I had threatened to flunk her if she mentioned it to anyone. Only it wasn’t true. Not a single word of it.”

“Were you able to disprove her allegations?”

“How? You can’t prove a negative. Let me tell you, it was an eye-opener for me. When something like that happens, you find out who your true friends are. People who I thought were pals drew away and wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn’t get another teaching job, of course. Her lie changed my entire life. Not to mention that I had been up for tenure.” John snorted. “That was out of the question!”

He sounded convincing. Still, I had some doubts. “Why would she do that?”

John shrugged. “To this day I don’t understand it. My parents thought it was some kind of misguided plea for attention. A couple of my friends thought the girl was angry because she had a crush on me and I was too stupid to notice. In the end, I was exonerated. But it was too late. All people remember is the allegation. They don’t care that it never happened.”

“Did you pay her off?”

John nearly snorted his wine. “Who gave you that idea?”

“A student.”

“Really? No, I had my attorney’s fees to pay. Trust me when I say there were no funds for paying anyone off.”

I didn’t want to come right out and accuse him of killing her. “I guess you know that she died.”

He looked at me with such an open expression of shock that I thought it was the first he had heard of her death.

“A car accident,” I said.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Truly sorry. She ruined my life, but she was way too young to die.”

“I’m surprised no one told you.”

“I haven’t been in touch with many of them. A few friends and students from those days have found me on Facebook, which is kind of cool.”

“How about Laura?” I asked.

“I hadn’t seen her since I left Douthier. Funny, I thought I had reached the point where all that was behind me. Ten years later and it’s still raising its ugly head. Remember when I went back to Macon to be matched to someone else? When he pegged me to Maddie Stevens, I nearly flipped out. Maddie is probably a very nice person, but she has to be at least sixteen years younger than me. I realized that night that those allegations have permanently changed me. There is no way I am ever going to be interested in anyone substantially younger than me. Ever. The minute I saw her, I knew there wasn’t a chance.”

“I guess Macon is right.”

“Not about me and Maddie!” John said.

“He may have done that intentionally. I’ve noticed that Macon likes to play games to get people together like he’s doing to us right now. I don’t see a photographer, do you?”

“Nope. But how would it help to set me up with Maddie?”

“To send both of you scurrying back to your original matches.”

“I get it. The wrong person makes the right person seem all that much better. What a sneaky guy. It might have worked if you hadn’t been an ax murderer.”

“You’re going to have a tough time writing thrillers if you don’t know the difference between an ax and a hoe.”

John tried to suppress a grin.

Was he beginning to change his mind about me? “Macon can’t know all our histories. I meant his assertion that we know within minutes or mere seconds whether a relationship is possible was correct.” I ate a bite of creamy potato salad—nicely tangy, with pickles. “Hey, wait a minute. You did the same thing to me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You told Dave you saw me when Hank was killed. But I was not there. Just like I jumped to conclusions about the allegations of sexual misconduct on your part, you somehow jumped to the conclusion that I was a murderer.”

John set his plate down. Holding up his left hand, he ticked items off on his fingers as he recited them. “One, you were sneaking around my yard in the dark in a disguise when you claim you were trying to distract Hank. Two, Trixie’s arrival confirmed that you were there. Three, I saw you lurking in my backyard around three in the morning. Four, I caught you with my binoculars when you returned in the morning and hid among the trees. And five, you spied on Ben, thus setting a precedent for that kind of behavior.”

I had just taken another bite of the potato salad and choked. “Ben? Why? Why would he say something like that?”

“I guess you did it to him, too.”

“Never! How could I? That’s not even physically possible. He lives in a condo on the fifth floor. He doesn’t even have a balcony. Does he think I have a pole that extends five stories in the air with a camera attached to it?”

“That’s odd. It does sound implausible.”

“And why would you think, and worse, tell Dave, that I was in your backyard at three in the morning when that couldn’t possibly have been the case?”

“You were wearing the same jacket you had on the night before. I saw you there.”

He was so stubborn. “That wasn’t me. You saw the murderer!”