Chapter 21
“You’re not going to make me wait until we get into the office tomorrow to tell me whose name was on that letter, are you?” I said as we headed to our cars.
“Nah, I’d be afraid you’d break into Roland’s condo.”
“I would, too. So, who is it?”
“Sebastian Talbot.”
“Sebastian? It’s got to be the same Sebastian as the one at Saveur de Evangeline. I mean, how many Sebastians do you know?”
“I hadn’t stopped to count them.”
“Seriously, Nate, it has to be him. But when I last talked with him, he never let on he was the least bit concerned about Saveur de Madeline. Unless he . . .”
“Yeah. Unless he never saw that letter. It was addressed to Roland but written to the both of them. Guess this Sebastian Talbot was more than one of Roland’s head chefs. He was a business partner and a soon to be disgruntled one if he’s thinking he’ll be able to open a new restaurant.”
“If he doesn’t know he’s lost the funding, then it doesn’t make him a suspect in Theodore Sizemore’s murder, does it? Sebastian Talbot is going to be in for the shock of his life when he finds out, though. Gosh, Nate, when do you suppose that will be?”
“Those kind of entrepreneurial dealings are usually quite complicated. Probably when he gets notified by a bank or maybe even the builder.”
“Or the cops. For my aunt’s sake, I hope it’s after the wedding.”
“For your aunt’s sake, I hope there is a wedding. I still haven’t been able to locate her fiancé. It’s not like he’s some poor groom who’s gotten a case of the jitters. Louis has probably figured out by now someone’s setting him up for Roland’s death, or worse yet, planning to make your future uncle the next victim.”
“Bite your tongue!”
Nate was right. Of all the places to stash a stolen motorcycle, how did it wind up in Louis’s garage? As if that wasn’t enough to keep me awake at night, I still had a nagging little thought in the back of my mind that maybe, just maybe, Louis was still married and this situation gave him the opportunity he needed to “jump ship.”
Nate waved his hand and paused. “Forget that letter for a second, will you? What do you make of those signatures on that last note? One hell of an IOU, I’d say.”
The signatures were one thing. The “legalese” was another, and Nate knew I was totally lost.
“What did the note mean about predeceasing?”
“Means if the lender should pass away, the debt would be held by another party. That’s pretty common.”
I gave him a nod. It was beginning to make sense. “So, killing off the lender doesn’t absolve the borrower from what he owes.”
“Hell no, or every payday loan company would be out of business. Did you read the language on that note carefully? If I was Louis Melinsky, I’d be lying low, too.”
“The motorcycle is bad enough. That IOU kind of cinches it, doesn’t it? My God, Nate, please don’t share that note with the police. Not yet.”
“I don’t intend to, and they haven’t looked. Hey, did you happen to notice the date on it?”
“No. All I saw were those zeros and my eyes glazed over.”
“I got a good look. It was dated recently. In the past month. Before those deaths. Not like the other IOUs. They go back for years.”
“Meaning?”
“This recent note isn’t a gambling debt, like the others. Listen, I’ve got to get going. I’m supposed to meet up with someone for dinner in a little while.”
“You have a date? You met a woman and have a date? That’s wonderful.”
“Before you go jumping up and down about my social life, I should have clarified. It’s not a dinner date and it’s not a woman. If you must know, it’s Herb Garrett, your mother’s neighbor.”
“What? You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Herb did some snooping about the Lexus. Wanted to share his findings with me, so he invited me out to join him and a few friends of his at a Mexican restaurant not far from here. He and his buddies call themselves the ‘Romeos.’”
“He actually has the chutzpah to use the word ‘Romeo’ to describe himself?”
“I should have clarified that, too. No, it stands for ‘Retired Old Men Eating Out.’”
“Oh brother. That’s right up there with my mother’s book club and, trust me, I can think of lots of acronyms to describe them.”
“See you in the morning, kiddo. You know, Phee, with some serious training, you’d make a decent detective and—”
“Sure. And with a bit of training, I could be the next chef extraordinaire, transforming hamburger into braised sirloin tips with caramelized onions. No thanks. I’ll leave the investigating up to you. The only reason I’m in the middle of this mess is because of Aunt Ina. Good thing my mother only has one sister.”
Nate let out a quick laugh and turned toward his car. I was halfway to my vehicle when my cell phone buzzed. My mother! She always seemed to call at the most inopportune times, like this one. I really wasn’t in the mood to hear about my aunt, the book club ladies, or the latest rumor circulating around Sun City West. Unfortunately, I got to hear about all three.
“I tried your home phone. There was no answer. So when you get my message, you can ignore it.”
Can I ignore this call, too?
“Your cousin Kirk called. He and Judy will be here next week. And let me tell you, he is more than a little put out that his future stepfather is nowhere to be found. Asked if I thought his mother was, well . . . you know . . . losing some cognitive functioning.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him his mother was as sharp as she’s ever been. Then he began to worry maybe Louis was going to scam her and steal all of her money.”
“Um . . . not likely, Mom. From what Nate and the police were able to figure out, Louis Melinsky is quite well-to-do.”
“Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk to you about. Shirley and Lucinda were here earlier today. Seems they both watched a TV reality show last night called Exes Who Sabotage Their Nexes. It’s all about ex-wives who sabotage their former husband’s wedding or marriage. You can’t imagine the kinds of things they do. Shirley said one woman tried to have her ex-husband declared incompetent so she could get power of attorney. And another one broke into the future wife’s house and ransacked it. But the worst one was the ex who put dead fish into the toilet bowl tanks at her former husband’s house. She still had a key. He never changed the locks. Are you listening to me? Because I’m about to say something important.”
Oh no! Not this. Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.
“Mom, I—”
“Shirley had a bad feeling about this. A bad feeling. Came over her when she was making that hat.”
“It was probably indigestion. You didn’t say anything to Aunt Ina, did you?”
“And have her grab the nearest piece of furniture and pretend to go into a swoon? No, of course not. But I did ask her about Louis’s ex-wives.”
“What did she say? Does she know anything about them?”
“Only what Louis told her, of course. Including the fact he never had children.”
“Uh-huh. Go on.”
“The first marriage was to a Candace something-or-other. Decided she didn’t want to be married to a musician. Ina said Candace got remarried to some executive from Microsoft and moved to Seattle. Then there was that Sasserman lady. What was her name? Oh yes, Edith. That marriage lasted a whole lot longer, until Edith decided she wanted to join some humanitarian group and go save starving children in godforsaken places.”
“That sounds pretty noble of her.”
“I suppose. If she doesn’t mind catching leprosy or some other plague. Anyway, last Louis heard, Edith was with Doctors Without Borders in Central America.”
“What about the third wife? You told me he was married three times.”
“All I know is the third wife is some sort of cabaret entertainer for the cruise lines. That’s probably how he met her. I think Ina mentioned the woman had been married once before.”
“Look, I seriously don’t think any of Louis’s ex-wives would want to sabotage his fourth marriage. Tell Shirley and Lucinda not to get carried away.”
“You can tell them yourself. The book club is getting together Saturday morning at Bagels ’n More. We’re selecting the lineup for next year.”
“I thought the book selection was handled by the library.”
“Not after last year’s nightmare. The women decided we’re much better off duking it out ourselves than leaving it up to some librarian.”
“Um . . . will Aunt Ina be there?”
“She wasn’t too definitive but, knowing her, I’d say yes. She won’t turn down an opportunity to be the center of attention. And that’s just what she’ll do. Take center stage and go on and on infinitum about the wedding.”
“Yeah . . . well . . . about that . . . I’ve got a million things to do already for that wedding, and if I show up, she’ll have yet another catastrophe that will inevitably land in my lap. So, no. You have a good time with the ladies and send my regards.”
“One more thing, Phee. I heard from Cindy Dolton. You remember Cindy from the dog park, with cute little Bundles? Well, she heard there’s a crazy person driving a Lexus who’s trying to run over joggers, bicyclists, and dog walkers.”
“I’ll be sure not to do any of those things next time I stop by your house.”
My head was swimming by the time I turned the key in the ignition. I could only imagine what I’d feel like had I accepted the breakfast invitation.
The next day at work flew by quickly, with a flurry of phone calls (mostly about our business) and a few new walk-in clients. Nate was in and out all day and, in Augusta’s words, “chasing leads like a dog after his own tail.” His dinner with the Romeos turned out to be more hype than help, but he did get one possibility regarding the angry grill Lexus, so I guessed the night wasn’t a total bust. By the time the weekend rolled around, I was exhausted and glad to have a couple of days to catch a breath. Good thing, too, because the following week was a regular roller coaster. It started with a simple phone call to La Petite Pâtisserie that left me chewing on my fingernails.