CHAPTER EIGHT
“You have my word on it, Eleni,” I told her.
“Whatever you tell us about Hope will not be traced back to you.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I know,” Eleni said after another deep breath. “But I have to reiterate how sensitive this information is. It might not be something you’ll want to share with the police, especially since Chief Louvain is involved.”
“I understand,” I said, although I didn’t fully. I was simply agreeing with her to fast-track the conversation. Eleni had certainly aroused my suspicions about Hope Louvain.
“Hope and Carly both have boys in middle school,” Eleni said quietly. “The boys have been in trouble numerous times for fighting after summer school, and I’m not sure how, but Carly had Hope’s son expelled from school for bullying.”
“Eleni?” we heard, then saw her clerk appear at the end of the row. “I’ll be leaving in about ten minutes. Should I start closing up?”
“Yes, Janine. Thank you.” Eleni waited until she was gone to say quietly, “After Hope’s son was expelled, she was so upset that she took a tire iron to the front windshield of Carly’s Mercedes—and Carly was in her car at the time.”
“Was she hurt?” I asked in surprise.
Eleni shook her head. “Fortunately, the windshield just cracked. This happened a week before Carly’s death.”
“Did Carly call the police?” Abby wanted to know.
“She sure did,” Eleni said, “but it seems the incident report never got filed. Hope’s husband made it go away. I only know what happened because I was in my dressing room when they fought about it.”
Hope Louvain was quickly moving up my list of suspects. I flashed back to what Fran had told us, then asked Eleni, “Do you remember whether Hope threatened Carly?”
“Yes. Something to the effect of ‘You’d better watch your back.’ But then, Hope likes to threaten people. It wasn’t anything new.”
“Did you tell Detective Walters about Hope’s threat?”
“Absolutely not,” Eleni said. “I shouldn’t even be telling you.”
“Doesn’t it seem a bit irresponsible to withhold that kind of information from the police?” Abby asked. “Especially when it could mean that someone innocent takes the rap?”
“The Louvains are not the kind of people you want as enemies,” Eleni said. “I’m not going to put my family in danger, or my husband’s career at risk. Hope is a violent woman, and Ed is like a pit bull when it comes to protecting his wife. He has more sway in this town than my husband does, so again, be careful when talking to them.”
“Are you saying she would retaliate?” I asked.
“What I’m saying is, if you’re looking for a suspect, you know where to start. With her husband there to back her up, I would imagine Hope had every reason to believe she could poison Carly and get away with it.”
Abby seemed to be skeptical. “You just said that accusations can be damning, yet here you are accusing Hope.”
“And you said it’s the guilty who refuse to help, so here I am, helping.”
Abby’s cell phone rang, so she stepped away to answer it. Eleni glanced at her watch and said to me, “It’s late, and I still have some things to do before I close up. I wish you luck in finding Carly’s killer. Just remember to leave me out of it.”
“I understand,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
When Abby joined us again, Eleni pulled the Arthur Miller book from the shelf and held it out. “Would you like this?” she asked Abby.
“No, thanks,” Abby said.
“I’d be happy to take it,” I said. “How much?”
“No charge,” Eleni said. “And tell your mother I said hello.”
* * *
Outside, the sidewalks were nearly deserted. I’d forgotten how dramatically business slowed down when the fair was in town. The sun was still hot and lingering in the summer sky, cooking the empty sidewalks. Normally, the shops would have their doors open with customers bustling in and out, but with the lack of tourism and abundance of heat, the shop doors were shut tight, and the hum of air-conditioning units buzzed loudly at every alleyway.
Abby squinted as we turned into the sun and said, “That was the audio tech on the phone. He said the flowers Carly received came from a florist shop called Back to the Fuchsia. Any idea where that is?”
“It’s on White Street,” I told her. “About two blocks south of here.”
Abby pulled her sunglasses from her purse, a pair of cute oval frames in white with yellow sides, and slid them up her nose. “Let’s head over there.”
I checked my watch. Delphi would be leaving for her dance lessons in less than an hour. “You’ll have to go without me,” I told Abby. “Why don’t we meet tomorrow morning to discuss our interviews and figure out our next steps?”
“Perfect,” Abby said. “I’ll see you then.”
* * *
I texted Case about meeting with Abby the next morning and headed back to Spencer’s. As I approached the building, I noticed through the windows that the lights inside were off. The only thing I could think was that my father had closed the store early due to lack of business, but when I tried the barn door, it opened smoothly.
“Hello?” I called into the empty, dark store. “Pops?”
The door closed quietly behind me. Long splinters of sunlight cast through the tall window at the front of the big barn, lighting up the outstretched arm of the statue of Athena, beckoning me deeper into the darkness. Past the statue, I called again into the expansive space. “Anyone home?”
I tried to convince myself to accept the simplest answer. Either the power had gone out or Dad had closed up early, but something in my gut was warning me otherwise. I walked toward the light shining in through the slender back door window, holding out my hands to keep myself from bumping into potted planters and backyard furniture. Luckily, I had been the one to stage the sales floor and by then could almost walk the store with my eyes closed.
Coming up to the back door, I could hear a soft, metallic pounding. I inched closer to hear my dad yell out in pain. At that, I burst through the double doors out onto the patio, ready for action, only to find my dad, Delphi, Nicholas, and Bob Maguire gathered next to the building staring at a big metal box nestled in the bushes.
“Son of a—” My dad jabbed his thumb into his mouth before finishing. He was kneeling next to the unit with a flushed face.
“What’s happening here?” I asked as Nicholas jumped up to give me a hug.
“Grandpa’s fixing the air conditioner,” my son said proudly.
“Not exactly,” Dad said, shaking out his sore thumb. “It’s a generator, Niko.”
Bob helped my dad to his feet, then knelt down in his place to take a look.
“A tree must have fallen on an electrical line,” my dad explained. “The power went off about ten minutes ago.”
“Bobby brought the generator from the shed, but it’s not working,” Delphi explained.
Bob flicked the switch on and off several times before the engine kicked over and the generator started rumbling. “There we go,” Bob said. “Just a little rusty is all.”
Oscar popped his head out from behind a row of boxwoods with his nose jabbing in all directions, clearly hoping this unlikely gathering would bring him his next meal. He disappeared when the generator came to a sputtering stop.
“We’re out of gas,” Dad said. “And unfortunately, I don’t remember refilling the gas cans the last time I used them.”
“We’d go get more, but we’re going to have to leave,” Delphi said, pulling Bob away from the group. “Our dance lessons start in ten minutes.”
“I guess I’ll go to the gas station,” Dad grumbled.
“I’ll get the gas,” I offered. “I need a refill anyway. Bob, before you go, have you had a chance to check the detective’s file about the poison?”
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “I know the lab results have come back, but I haven’t had a chance to sneak a peek.”
“That’s okay. I understand.”
“How did your lunch meeting with Walters go?” Bob asked.
“Unproductive,” I said. “He’s not going to cooperate with us.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Looks like you’re on your own.”
“No shock there,” I told him. “Maybe Walters’s replacement will be better.”
“Maybe you’re looking at him,” Bob said with a secretive smile.
“Are you serious?” Delphi asked.
“That’s good news,” I said.
“I’m up for the position, as are several others, including my former partner, Juan Gomez.”
That wasn’t good news. Gomez and I had butted heads on two different murder investigations. There was no love lost between us. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, Bob,” I said.
“Keep your fingers crossed that we don’t show up late,” Delphi told him, leading him away.
“Come on, Niko,” I said. “Grab the gas cans from the shed, and let’s go.”
On our way back from the gas station, Nicholas and I stopped for sandwiches. We returned with a sandwich for my dad, only to find him seated on the picnic table out back, feeding Oscar peanuts from his palm.
“Pops, you’re going to spoil him.”
“I think it’s a little late for that, Thenie. Do you know he took up residence in the garden shed?”
I gave my son a pointed look and said to my dad, “I thought you might have something to say about that. Niko and I will clean that up right now.”
“It’s okay,” Dad replied. “The shed’s a great little home for Oscar. We’ll just have to find a different spot to store the gas cans and pesticides.”
Nicholas hopped onto the bench next to his grandfather. “Can we install a doggie door, too? That way we don’t have to leave the shed door open all the time.”
“That’s a good idea, Niko,” my dad said.
“We can discuss that later,” I told them. “For now, we have to call an electrician.”
“Already did it,” Dad said. “We’re not the only building without power, so it might be a day or two before we get it fixed.”
“How are we going to operate the business without electricity?” I asked.
“That generator will run power to the office and the register and a few lights in the barn. That’s all we really need.”
“We need more than a few lights, Pops.”
“It doesn’t get dark until closing time anyway,” he said, handing the bag of food over to my son. He got up with a groan and made his way over to me. “I’ll just have to make sure we have plenty of gas to keep this thing running.”
Nicholas squeezed in between us. “Can we fix up Oscar’s shed now, Grandpa?”
I ruffled his hair, left the two to discuss the details, and took the gas cans over to the generator. After topping off the fuel, I flicked the switch, and the engine rumbled to life. Through the glass door window, I saw a string of lights inside the store light up.
I had just set the gas cans behind the shed at the back of our property when I heard my phone ringing in my pocket. It was Lila Talbot.
“Hello, partner,” she sang out happily. “I’m calling a meeting at the detective agency tonight. What time are you able to meet up?”
“You’re calling a meeting?” I asked hesitantly. “About what?”
“Just a general meeting,” she answered. “We need to keep each other in the loop. That’s what partners do.”
Which meant she was feeling left out of the loop. I tried to suppress my sigh, but Lila caught on anyway. “Don’t sound so put out. Case and Abby are already at the office, and I’m on my way. What time can you be there?”
* * *
After sending Nicholas home with my dad, I closed up the garden center as soon as I could. I shut down the computer for the night and stood from my desk, stretching and rubbing my stiff neck. Then I hoisted my purse over my shoulder and noticed it was heavier than normal. I set the purse on my desk, opened it, and pulled out the old copy of The Crucible that Eleni had given me. I thumbed through it, sneezed twice, and left the book for my dad. Maybe he would enjoy a good read. Minus the allergies.
I arrived back at the office to find Case and Abby sitting in Case’s office. And of course, there was our silent partner, Lila Talbot, dressed like a model in a light-blue summer sweater and slim navy slacks, her blond hair braided on each side and pinned at the back of her head with a crystal clip. She had pulled one of the reception chairs into the office and placed it next to Abby’s.
“Don’t worry about being late,” Lila said to me. “I know you’re busy at the garden center, so Case and Abby have already caught me up to speed. Abby was just starting to tell us about visiting the flower shop after your interview with Eleni.”
“I found out who bought the flowers,” Abby said. “Carly’s ex-husband, Donald Blackburn. I have the purchase order from the flower shop with his name on it.”
“I knew it,” Case said.
“Why would Carly’s ex-husband buy her flowers?” Lila asked.
“The logical answer is to get backstage,” Case said. “That would explain the man in the black cap and T-shirt leaving through the back exit. The Blackburn Casino employees wear a black baseball cap and black T-shirt.”
Lila pushed back a loose strand of blond hair. “If this Donald is bringing Carly flowers, then he must’ve wanted to get back together with her. My ex-husband would always buy me flowers after a fight.”
“If Donald had a reunion in mind,” I said, “it obviously didn’t work, because Carly threw the flowers in the trash.”
“Ouch,” Lila said. “That would hurt.”
“Or maybe a reunion wasn’t what he had in mind,” Case said. “I did more research on Donald and Carly and learned that Carly had filed for full custody of their son, claiming verbal abuse. They had a court date set for the week after Carly’s death. And Abby told me about Carly’s will situation, so I’m going to say Donald definitely had a motive for murder.”
“Then we need to prove that Donald was at the fashion show,” Abby said.
“Doesn’t the purchase order count as proof?” Lila asked.
“It proves that Donald bought the flowers, but not that he delivered them personally.” Abby folded the purchase order into her purse. “I’ll show a photo of Donald to the hotel staff to see if anyone remembers seeing him.”
“Look up the Blackburn Casino’s website,” Case said. “His picture is listed under Staff.”
“Thanks,” Abby said, pulling out her phone.
Lila turned to me with a smile. “It sounds like you and Abby got a lot of information today. How close are we to nailing down the suspect?”
“Well,” I said, “the good news is that there were a number of people backstage before and during the show, giving us several persons of interest.”
“The bad news,” Abby said, putting away her phone, “is that both women we talked to placed Jillian backstage before the show, too, which means they would have reported that to the detective, giving him more ammunition against her.”
“Then we’ll have to double our efforts to find the killer,” Case said, tapping his pen on the desktop. “The info about Hope’s temper tantrum with the tire iron was very interesting. It says a lot about her character and how far she would go to get even.”
“And don’t forget about Ed Louvain’s cover-up of her crime,” Abby said. “It makes me wonder what else he would hide for her. So I say we list Hope Louvain as our top suspect.”
“And Fran Decker?” Case asked.
“I’m not putting her on my list,” Abby answered. “I usually get a strong gut feeling about someone, and she didn’t do it for me. She didn’t seem to know Carly very well.”
“I agree,” I said. “She had no motive.”
“Fran is a doll,” Lila said. “I’ve known her for years. She wouldn’t harm a fly. What about Eleni Sloan?”
“She’s on the list,” Abby said. “Eleni was the first model to arrive, and from what Fran told us, she would’ve had a window of opportunity to poison Carly’s water bottle. The problem is, she has no apparent motive.”
“Unless Hope’s gossip is true,” I said, “and Eleni lied to us.”
Lila leaned in. “Just so you know, I’ve heard the rumors that the mayor has been unfaithful. However, I, for one, don’t believe them.”
“You’ve heard rumors about Charles Sloan?” I asked.
“The Sloans and I run in the same circles,” she answered, “and I’ve always found Charles to be honest and sincere.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Case said.
Lila leaned back in her seat and huffed in indignation. “You don’t trust my judgment?”
“It’s not you I distrust. It’s politicians in general.”
“Then let’s put this rumor to the test,” Lila said. “If you want to know whether Charles is likely to be unfaithful, let me suggest something. I’ll go down to his campaign headquarters tomorrow morning to volunteer for his reelection campaign. He knows me. I can get close to him—you know, like, a little flirtation? Then we’ll see how he behaves.”
“Lila,” I said, “you could be playing with fire.”
“Sweetheart,” she said, “if anyone knows how to douse a flame, it’s Lila Talbot. Don’t you worry.”
I glanced at Case, but he said nothing. I couldn’t imagine how Lila’s little “flirtation” would help our investigation, but I knew her well enough to realize that once she set her mind on helping us, nothing would deter her. And maybe her plan would actually keep her out of our hair.
“Then go for it,” I told her.
“I would also suggest we talk to the mayor and his security guard,” Abby said. “They were both at the fashion show. They might have noticed something the women didn’t.”
“I’ll contact the mayor’s office and see what I can set up,” Case said. “In the meantime, we need to interview Hope Louvain. She’ll be working at the middle school tomorrow.”
Sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, Abby stood. “We should head over to the school when the kids get out and talk to her then. I like to catch people off guard. It gives them less time to think out their answers.”
“I’ll find out what time Hope is finished and let you both know,” Case said.
Abby stretched and tried to suppress a big yawn. “I’m going to head back to the hotel and see if any of the employees remember seeing Donald. Then I’m going to get some sleep.”
“I’m going to take off, too,” Lila said, rising. “I have a busy day tomorrow. First thing in the morning I’m going down to the mayor’s headquarters, then after lunch it’s my spa day.” She wiggled her fingers. “Time to have these babies polished.”
We waited for the two to leave, then Case walked me to the door, pulling me in close for a kiss. He leaned back to gaze at me. “Good work today.”
“Thank you.”
“Why don’t you come back to the Pamé for a nightcap?”
I slipped my hands around his neck and leaned into him, very aware of the solidness of his chest, of his pulse beneath my fingertips. “I wish I could, but I want to spend some time with Nicholas, and I need some sleep, too. It’s been a long day.”
“I forgot to tell you,” he said, holding me closely against him, “we got a new case today.”
I leaned back to look at him. “We did?”
He smiled and pulled me in for another kiss. “The case of the missing love life.”
“I’m sorry,” I said between kisses. “We can solve only one case at a time.”
“I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s take Niko to the fair tomorrow. That way we can get in some quality time with him earlier in the evening, and then later you can spend some time with me.”
I shuddered.
Case gave me an exasperated look. “That’s comforting.”
“No, it’s not you.” I heaved a sigh. “You know one of the reasons why I was happy to leave Chicago? Because of the crowds. The endless crowds of people everywhere. That’s what the fair reminds me of.”
“But you promised Niko.”
“I know I did.”
“You can make it through one night,” he told me. “I’ll be with you the whole time. And it’ll make Niko very happy, which will also make you happy.”
I sighed again and leaned into Case, realizing there was no escape. “Okay. One night. For Nicholas. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic.” He kissed me again. “And don’t forget to write your blog tonight, Goddess.”
IT’S ALL GREEK TO ME
Blog by Goddess Anon
Finding Your Happiness
We all want to be happy, and we also want to be successful, but can we be both?
I came across this list on a website and found it interesting enough to prompt a little self-evaluating. Read the list and let me know how you measure up.
Traits of happy, successful people:
1. They don’t hold grudges.
2. They think outside the box.
3. They have a supportive tribe, thereby not wasting time with negative or toxic people.
4. They don’t care about what other people think.
5. They don’t people-please.
6. Fear doesn’t hold them back. They’re ready to take risks.
7. Passion is what drives them. They authentically believe in what they’re doing.
8. They live by their core values in both their professional and personal lives.
9. They finish what they start.
I think I’ve got a handle on most of them, and I’m especially strong on #2, #3, and #8, but there are a few areas that need work. How about you?
This is Goddess Anon bidding you Antio Sas.
Wednesday
The next morning, Nicholas and I arrived at the Parthenon to find my sisters Selene and Maia making lists, with my mom looking over their shoulders. We stopped at the pass-through window to say hi to my grandparents and put in our orders, then joined my family at the booth, where they were discussing Goddess Anon’s latest entry.
Sad to say, I had been so tired after reading Niko a bedtime story that I really hadn’t put much thought into my blog. To my surprise, no one seemed to notice.
“I’m really strong on numbers one, four, and five,” Maia said.
“For me,” Selene said, “it’s five, six, seven, and eight.”
Mama clucked her tongue. “Neither one of you mentioned number three—‘they have a supportive tribe.’ What do you call our family if not a tribe?”
“What’s the tribe up to?” I asked, sliding into the booth opposite my sisters. Nicholas scooted in beside me.
“Hello, my Niko,” my mom said, kissing him on the cheek. “Ti kanis?” How are you?
“Poly kala,” Nicholas said, trying his best to imitate a Greek accent. Very well.
“Did you read Goddess Anon’s blog?” Selene asked.
“I haven’t had time,” I said.
“Read it,” Maia said. “It’ll make you think.”
My mother made a show of looking around the diner. “I wonder where your baby sister is.” When no one answered, she moved closer to where I was seated and pondered loudly. “I still haven’t figured out why she and Bob are taking dance lessons. She’s being very evasive, and it makes me suspicious.”
When her passive-aggressive pondering still didn’t garner a response, she finally got to the point. “Do you know what’s going on with her, Thenie?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Well, find out for me,” she insisted. “Something is going on, and I want to know.”
“Maybe they just wanted something fun to do,” I said.
“No,” Mama said, shaking her head. “It’s more than just for fun. I know it.”
“I know something fun to do,” Nicholas said. “Let’s go to the fair. When can we go, Mom?”
“How about tonight?” I asked.
“Cool!” he said. “Thanks, Mom. I mean efxaristo.”
I ruffled his hair. “Parakalo.” You’re welcome. Thanks to my son, we’d gotten Mama off the subject of Delphi’s lessons.
* * *
As soon as I’d checked in with my dad at Spencer’s, I went back to the office and read a text that had come in from Case. He told me what time school let out, and then I phoned Abby to schedule our visit. The call went directly to voice mail, so I left a message and started on my morning work.
At eleven o’clock, there was a soft knock on the door frame, and Abby stuck her head through the doorway. “Sorry to bother you at work. Are you busy?”
“Just finishing up,” I said. “Come in.”
“I got your message.” She sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. “Shall we head over to the school about fifteen minutes before two?”
“Definitely.”
“I wanted to let you know what I found out,” Abby said. “I’ve already shared the information with Case. I showed a photo of Donald Blackburn to six members of the hotel staff. Some of them remember seeing a man carrying flowers, but they couldn’t identify Donald specifically, so I can’t be sure it was him. However, I wasn’t able to locate everyone who was there Thursday night because some of them weren’t working today.”
“So the delivery man is still a mystery,” I said.
“I know it was Donald,” Abby said. “I just need a way to prove it.”
“Athena?” Cousin Drew said, peering in the doorway. “There’s a woman here to see you. She said her name was Maureen Knight.”
Abby’s mouth fell open. “My mother is here?”