Sheila was waiting for me when I arrived home, pacing around my driveway with Cecil in tow. Since she was wearing boots and breeches, I realized she had recently finished riding. To her credit, she had kept busy by feeding Zeke and frolicking with my dogs. I was officially in her debt and glad to be so.
“Finally,” she said. “I thought you’d never come home. I cut short my ride because I had to see you.” This behavior was odd for Sheila who typically was one very cool customer. It was obvious that she had some big news to share.
“Come on in and have a drink,” I said. “You’ve got me very curious.” Sheila and the entire menagerie save for Zeke followed me into the living room.
“Perri, you won’t believe this,” she said. “Ellis had his security guys do some sleuthing and guess what they found? Our little community is a nest of crime and corruption! A virtual den of iniquity.”
That bombshell required an explanation. Sheila yawned, stretched out her long legs on my couch and spilled her secrets. “Okay. This one will blow your mind. Ken Reedy didn’t retire from practicing law. He was disbarred! Actually, he surrendered his law license but it’s the same thing. Can you believe it?”
I bowed my head. “I just found out. He didn’t try to hide anything.”
She nodded. “Yep. He admitted it, lost his license and got a suspended sentence.”
I refused to condemn Ken’s actions, not after seeing how Pip had suffered. He insisted on bearing the pain even though as a veterinarian, he had access to plenty of alternatives. Had he asked me, I would have done anything to help him.
“What else?” I asked, dreading the answer. Everyone, even a potential murderer deserved a zone of privacy. It felt sordid to pry into their secrets.
“Jacqueline Parks—you know that woman who screwed around with Pruett. Babette’s pal.”
“Yes?”
“She has a conviction for shoplifting. Can you believe it? She swiped a box of condoms from the CVS. Now that’s just nasty!”
I took a perverse pleasure in picturing Pruett using purloined condoms. Served him right. “Don’t they usually hush up that kind of stuff, especially in a wealthy community?”
Sheila winked. “Right. But apparently, this was not her first offense. Mrs. Parks clipped a bunch of things from Walmart and Sam’s Club too. So lowbrow! She probably got a sick thrill from slumming.”
“Anyone else?” Babette’s entire committee was apparently mired in corruption and vulnerable to a shark like Ethel.
“This won’t surprise you one bit. You met Charlotte Westly and that Neanderthal she married, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Charlotte apparently frequents most of the hot sheet motels in the area and has the receipts to prove it. I think she’s some kind of nympho.”
At least that wasn’t illegal. Ill-advised, sleazy, and grounds for divorce, but not illegal unless her partners were underage. I studied Sheila’s expression for a clue and decided that she looked guilty as hell.
“Okay. Out with it.”
“At least one of her ‘friends’ was a kid from Hamilton Arms and he was eighteen. The school hushed it up and he was of legal age, so the cops let it slide. I understand that Charlotte settled big time with the kid’s family though.”
Either the alcohol or the insights into my neighbors made me feel queasy. I prayed that Sheila had finished describing things.
“You mean her husband found out and didn’t divorce her?” Most men would have dumped a straying spouse, especially if her offense went public.
Once again Sheila hesitated, as if for dramatic effect. “You got that right. Ellis would dump me like a hot potato. Charlotte was cagey though. She let it be known that if he divorced her, she would spread the word that hubby had performance issues! Think what that would do to his power in the boardroom! No man wants that.”
Sheila turned away and busied herself with hugging Cecil. She didn’t fool me for a second. That ruse meant that she had something even more unpleasant to share.
“Okay. What aren’t you saying?” I gave her my flat-eyed, military stare.
She waited and heaved a big sigh. “Carleton’s name came up. He and Charlotte apparently were an item. Jacqueline too. A scandal just might mean the end of his cozy little berth at Hamilton Arms. That’s why Bascomb keeps his beady little eyes on Babette. He thinks she had motive, means and opportunity. For a cop that’s the trifecta.”
I blinked ferociously while trying to process everything. All four suspects were also members of Babette’s committee and on or near the premises the day of Ethel’s murder. Add Jakes to the list and you had a quintet of potential killers. Everybody had plausible motives although my first reaction was to exclude Ken Reedy and Babette. Carleton was far more likely to strike back than his ex-wife if his livelihood was imperiled. He was so egotistical that I could easily envision the little creep bashing in Ethel’s brains if she taunted him. As for Ken and Babette, they were good people, gentle souls at heart who loved animals and abhorred violence. That counted for something, didn’t it? A devilish voice within me sneered that even good people could be driven to violence.
Sheila jumped up and brushed off her slacks. “Talk about a quagmire. Even if Ethel deserved it, most of these things were simply no big deal. Certainly not worth a stretch in the big house or Virginia’s version of the needle.”
I thought back to the murder scene, bloody and savage but somehow impromptu. Ethel’s murder was unplanned; I was positive of that. The fire extinguisher was a weapon of convenience, one of sheer chance. There was passion involved but not premeditation. Maybe Ethel upped the ante or taunted her victim. If the killer went berserk, that would explain the ferocity of the attack. According to Bascomb, she was struck on the back of the head, probably while preparing to don that stupid horse costume.
“Babette doesn’t know this, I assume?”
Sheila shook her head.
It felt like the ultimate betrayal, keeping vital information from a friend. If only I could bounce my theories off someone. I winced knowing that Pruett was the one I needed but would never contact. Even for Babette.
“Look, hon, I have to make tracks. Ellis has tickets to some charity thing or another tonight and he expects me to dazzle the donors.” Sheila preened and did a half pirouette. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll see Pruett there. Monique Allaire is co-sponsor of the shindig. Promised to snap some photos too.”
My smile was weaker than day old tea. “Good luck. Knock ’em dead.”
On second thought, considering our current dilemma my choice of words was unfortunate.
* * * *
Good thing I wasn’t a drinker. Even in the throes of Pip’s final illness when escape was tempting, I kept my mind clear and my body alcohol free, more from indifference than virtue. I gave myself a quick pep talk designed to ease angst and elevate my spirits. No pun intended. After all, bringing that gift made a little girl happy. I had no ulterior motive. The encounter with Monique was a minor blip in my romantic saga not a tragedy.
Keep telling yourself that Perri. Maybe you’ll believe it.
I spent the rest of the evening in my workshop, filling orders and poring over my accounts. Before long, Poe and Keats nuzzled me, and I saw to my surprise that it was nearly ten o’clock. Bedtime for a working stiff like me.
When my cell rang, I answered without checking caller ID, confident that Babette had yet another detail to discuss. His voice, deep, dark, and dreamy, jolted me out of my stupor.
“Sorry I missed you today,” Pruett said. “You really hit a home run with my daughter. Couldn’t get her to take off that thing without bribing her. Chaps—who knew?”
“I’m glad.” I didn’t trust myself to say much more. Anything else would have betrayed the depth of my anguish. Chasing men was something I simply did not do.
Pruett hesitated. “Are you mad at me or something, Perri?”
My legs felt weak and I quickly eased down on the sofa. Might as well clear the air right away. “This is so embarrassing. I’m sorry about today. I wasn’t stalking you at home or checking up on you. I thought Alma would be there to take the gift.”
He laughed, a hearty, masculine sound. I expected to hear voices and other party noises in the background but there was total silence.
“Aren’t you at that fundraiser? Sheila said …”
“Are you kidding? I’m babysitting. Those things bore the pants off me, so I avoid them like the plague.”
I spared a brief thought for Pruett without his pants then forged ahead with the conversation. “Oh. Just so you know.” For some reason, I was close to tears.
“You are welcome at my place anytime, Ms. Morgan, even without a gift.” He was laughing again. “Hey, I know it’s late but how about having a drink? I can scoop up Ella and be at your place in twenty minutes.”
“Tonight?” With no makeup, Pip’s ratty old robe and dog themed pajamas, I was scarcely a fashion plate. Truth be told, I was an early to bed, early to rise kind of gal and always had been. Suddenly I got a brainstorm. “We could Skype if you want. Sheila found out a bunch of things that I could run by you. Some of them are pretty wild.”
He waited before answering, just long enough to make me sweat. “I guess so, but nothing beats having my arms around you. You’re in my head big time, lady. I don’t mind telling you.”
I gulped, thinking of the glamorous woman at his house and her comely predecessors. Pruett was a practiced lover. A casual affair was de rigueur for him but not for me. Disposable partners were the preserve of cynical society fixtures prowling the cocktail circuit, but I was a country mouse. I shrugged off the drama and returned to the impersonal business of death. “Use your imagination. Come on. Let’s get started.”
Skype had some advantages over direct contact. We spent an uninterrupted hour discussing suspects, communicating in modern mode about murder, society’s oldest taboo. Pruett listened carefully as I cited their names and the evidence against them. He bit his lip and scribbled notes on what looked like a legal pad.
“Quite a list,” he said, “but my money’s still on Jakes. The guy is a nut and we know what kind of temper he has. Ethel might have taunted him, and he just lost it.”
“What about Ken?” I held my breath, hoping that Pruett would understand as I did what a decent man Reedy truly was.
“I don’t know him, but I sympathize with his actions. Besides, his secret was out in the open, so the cops would already know about it. He really had nothing to hide unless he didn’t want his friends to know.”
The others were not so lucky. Both women relied on their social status and perceived reputation for fulfilment. Would they kill to conceal relatively minor offenses? Jacqueline was a tall, powerful woman who could probably overwhelm Ethel with no problem. Charlotte was no Amazon but if her rage was fueled by passion she could surprise her victim.
Pruett must have read my mind. “Jacqui Parks plays a mean game of tennis,” he said. “Check out the muscles in her forearms sometime. Formidable.”
“I’ll take your word for that.”
Pruett sipped his wine and wisely confined his comments to our suspect list. “We need to at least consider Babette too. Just for the sake of form.”
I had already rehearsed the pros and cons of that argument. True, Babette had motive and means but why choose a time when she was hosting a group and might be discovered? She could easily have faked a robbery or lured Ethel to another spot. Plus, she had no illusions about Carleton and I doubted that she cared about his liaisons.
Based on his body language, my arguments fell flat with Pruett. He set his jaw and folded his arms. “Anything else?” he asked. “I know Babette is your friend but when it comes to emotion you just can’t predict anything. Hamlet said love leads to desperate undertakings. You gotta admit that nothing is more desperate than murder.”
I shrugged it off. “Who am I to dispute the Bard? Just think. Ken, Jacqui, Jakes and Charlotte all had their cars in the driveway and the cops searched them. Wouldn’t some forensic evidence have been there? Afterwards, they cordoned off the area. Sheila was late and almost didn’t get in.”
Pruett hesitated. “Maybe someone hiked or ran in from the highway.”
I shook my head. “Doubtful. It’s five miles from the road and the timeframe’s too narrow. Babette was only gone a short time. I suppose a bicycle might work though.”
Either way, the murderer was bold, someone who was willing to risk everything to silence Ethel. I considered the five likely suspects and decided I just didn’t know enough about their characters to make a judgement.
“We may learn something at that meeting of Babette’s tomorrow.” Pruett grinned. “What if I drop by your place tomorrow before the meeting and give you a wakeup call? I promise to bring sustenance.”
“What’s on the menu?” I asked. “Stale bagels just won’t cut it. I have a big appetite.”
Pruett was a master of snark. “Trust me. I can satisfy your needs. All of them.”
“Not scared of my dogs anymore?” My insouciance surprised even me.
“Nope. We’ve reached détente. Wait and see.”
“Sounds like a plan.”