Reuben and Moe Kravitz stood a couple of feet away, close enough for Kate and Hugo to hear.
“All day, friends have stopped by to welcome me home,” Moe said. “And I noticed your absence, Reuben. We had a little celebration dinner at the club, and your seat was empty.”
“I didn’t want to impose,” Reuben said stiffly.
“Impose. You hear that, Boris?” Moe looked amused, glancing over his shoulder. “All day, I’m asking—where’s Reuben? I need a rundown of the books, so I know how things stand, and nobody can find you. I have Boris call the house where you’re staying, and nobody picks up the phone. So I tell Boris we should drive over, and nobody answers the door.”
Reuben’s bald head shone with sweat. “I’ve been out of the house all day.”
“Then I see Dorothy is having a party next door. We’re old friends, Dorothy and me—she used to sing at the club—so I drop in to say hello. And who should I find at that party, but the very person I’m most eager to see.” He patted Reuben’s scarred cheek. “I’m a free man again, Reuben, and it’s time to get back to work.”
Reuben’s throat rose and fell in a swallow. “I’m working in pictures now, like I told you a while ago.”
Moe spread his hands. “There’s no need for that now. I appreciate you hiding here on my behalf, but the investigation is over, and we can all go back to business as usual.”
Hugo made a low sound, drawing the attention of the man named Boris. Kate grabbed Hugo’s hand and squeezed.
“But I want to work in pictures,” Reuben said.
“I understand. It’s an exciting business. But I need you, Reuben. I glanced over the books today and can’t make heads or tails of it. I have to say—I wasn’t so impressed by that nephew of yours. I would have fired him if he hadn’t gotten himself killed.”
“He wasn’t my nephew,” Reuben said, his acid tone returning.
“You recommended him. Which is interesting, because I sensed no friendship between the two of you when he visited me in my temporary situation. And then somebody killed him at the house where you’re living.” Moe watched Reuben closely. “What can you tell me about that?”
“Nothing,” Reuben said gruffly. “We just came home and found him. I don’t think it had anything to do with your business, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s reassuring, but now I don’t have a bookkeeper, and I’m eager for you to come back, Reuben. Never any trouble with you, nose in the books, everything nice and tidy.” Moe placed a hand on Reuben’s upper arm, squeezed, and released it. “You’re an important person to me, Reuben. That’s why I had Boris keep an eye on Ollie’s house these last few months, to make sure you stayed safe.”
Boris leaned forward to whisper in Moe’s ear. Moe listened, then turned his head to look at Kate, two steps away.
A chill ran through her. She fought an urge to flee as Moe walked toward her, while Reuben watched in alarm.
“Miss Hildebrand.” Moe flashed a brief smile, taking her hand between both of his in a warm bundle. “I hope you’ll forgive my impertinence in introducing myself, but I’m an old friend of your grandfather’s, and it is my pleasure to meet the remarkable young woman I have read so much about. My name is Moe Kravitz.”
“How do you do?” Kate murmured, her hand trapped, her heart racing.
“I read in the papers what happened a few days ago, and it distresses me that you had to find this young man who worked for me in such an unpleasant situation. I’d like to assure you I’m giving the police my full cooperation in finding his killer, so you can feel safe in our city.”
He released her hand, and she resisted the urge to wipe it against her party dress.
His gaze turned to Hugo. “And you must be the young man who waits tables at my club. Forgive me, but I have so many employees.”
Hugo had paled but held Moe’s gaze. “You’re thinking of Aurelio.”
The large man behind Moe whispered in his ear. “Boris says you used to wash dishes at the club. Do you mind if I ask your name, young man?”
“Hugo Quick.”
“Hugo Quick.” Moe seemed to absorb it. “I suspect we didn’t fully utilize your talents, Mr. Quick. You have the look of someone who might appreciate more interesting work than washing dishes. You must come by the club if you’re ever in need of employment, and I’ll tell my people to keep an eye out for you.”
Hugo didn’t blink. “I’m set for now, but thank you.”
Moe turned back to Reuben. “I know the investigation made you lose the lease on your old apartment, Reuben. I appreciate the sacrifice. I’d like you to stay in one of the rooms at the club until you find a new place, and then you’ll be close while we get the business back in order. Go pack your bags while I catch up with a few people here, and we’ll drive back together.”
Reuben’s eyes shifted. “I have my own car. I’ll pack tomorrow and drive over the day after that. That gives me time to settle things here.”
Moe considered it and nodded. “Sunday, then.” He put a hand on Reuben’s shoulder. “I was disappointed you didn’t welcome me home today, Reuben, but you know me, I’m not the sort of person who holds grudges. I take care of business and move on.” He lifted the hand to Reuben’s scarred cheek and patted. “I’ll see you Sunday.” He walked toward Mrs. Fairchild, trailed by Boris.
Reuben watched him go, then released a sagging breath.
“Come on,” Hugo said. He took Reuben’s arm and led him toward the side hall.
Kate started to follow, but Glenn stepped in front of her. “I can’t find your wrap. What does it look like?”
“I must have left it at home. Excuse me.” She tried to go around him.
“There you are!” Tad grabbed her arm. “I talked to the band, and they’re going to play so Bonnie and Aurelio can dance for everyone. Where are they?”
Kate cast a distracted glance over the crowd and saw Bonnie and Aurelio still standing near the table. “Over there, by the cake.”
“Bonnie!” Tad called, pulling Kate’s arm that way.
She unpeeled his fingers and hurried toward the side entrance where Hugo and Reuben had disappeared, pausing to let a caterer pass with a stack of clean plates. Finally, she entered the dim hall, but no one was there. She passed a bathroom and glanced into a small study with a white desk. The opening straight ahead led to the kitchen, and just before that, another hall turned toward the front of the house.
Hugo’s voice came from around the corner. “What he said about Lemmy—I swear he knows what we did.”
She stopped.
“He doesn’t know anything,” Reuben’s growling voice said. “How could he?”
“That Boris guy has been watching the house.”
“Watching me. You were just some dishwasher they never noticed. That’s why we had you do it, and you handled it like a pro. Quick in and out, planted the fake evidence, and now Lemmy is dead and everything is good.”
The blood seemed to leave Kate’s head. She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.
“I didn’t like the way that Boris guy was looking at me in there,” Hugo said. “Real suspicious, like he saw me that day but can’t quite place it.”
“Boris looks at everyone like that. Stupid people panic and give themselves away. You’re not stupid, so stop panicking.”
Dishes crashed in the kitchen, drowning out Hugo’s reply.
Kate’s thoughts crashed with them, wild and confused, trying to find some innocent meaning behind the words. But all she found was a confession of murder. A few hours before Lemmy had died, he’d threatened to tell Moe Kravitz that Reuben had erased Ollie’s loan. If he’d done that, Reuben would have been punished—probably killed—and Ollie would have lost his house. A motive for Reuben and a motive for Hugo. A reason for them to work together to get rid of Lemmy.
“Let’s get out of here,” Reuben said. “I need to start packing.”
“You’re not going back to that club. I’ll get you the money for Brazil.”
“Not before Sunday you won’t.”
“I’ve got some ideas.” A pause, then Hugo said, “You think I need to disappear too?”
Kate’s heart dropped. She didn’t want Hugo to disappear—and she didn’t want him to have done something that required it.
“You disappear, you only draw attention to yourself. Just lay low. Nobody knows what you did unless you give them a reason to look twice.” Shuffling movement. “You coming?”
“I should let Kate know I’m leaving the party.”
She stiffened, not wanting to be found around the corner.
“You’re fooling yourself with that girl.”
“I know … but it’s fun while it lasts.” She heard the smile in Hugo’s voice—this boy she barely knew. Last night, he’d kissed her in the moonlight, and now he talked about fake evidence and disappearing. Had he snuck Bonnie’s scarf from Aurelio’s pocket and planted it, knowing the blackmail photos gave her a motive, then pretended to find the scarf when Kate didn’t notice it herself? Part of her wanted him to come around the corner so she could ask.
But how could she believe his answers?
Her father had fooled her for thirteen years. Even now, looking back, her brain knew the facts, but her heart still had a hard time believing the truth about Johnson Hildebrand.
Her heart—so easily duped by a charming deceiver.
Panic bubbled inside her. She had to get away where she could think straight—away from Hugo’s spell. Two caterers walked from the kitchen, and she used their noise to camouflage her own, following them back to the party. She dared to glance back as she reentered the living room, but the hall was empty.
The party seemed more crowded suddenly, the laughter louder. Kate longed to leave, but Hugo and Reuben were leaving the house right now, and she didn’t want to run into them. She threaded her way through the crowd, her thoughts reeling around everything Hugo had said and done since Lemmy’s death.
First, he and Reuben had tampered with the murder scene, emptying Lemmy’s pockets and removing evidence. Hugo had hidden the bloody sword, and when she’d confronted him, he’d talked her into not telling the police and offered to hide her trunk in the attic. The next day, he and Reuben had taken the display case off the wall so Detective Bassett wouldn’t know a sword was missing. That night, he’d pretended to find the scarf and challenged her to play detective with him—again, not telling the police. When she’d suspected Aurelio, he’d insisted Aurelio was innocent—because he knew he was. And last night in the moonlight—
Kate’s heart squeezed. He’d told her about losing his job and a mother who made homemade bread, making her want to comfort and kiss him—not suspect him.
Had it all been an act?
He is an actor.
She pressed a hand to her stomach—and felt the smooth, satin bodice of her party dress, chosen to feel nice when she danced with Hugo.
She hadn’t been smart. She hadn’t been sensible.
Tad’s angry voice cut through the chaos in her mind, slurred and superior, and she looked up to see him near the birthday cake, a few feet away. “You better watch yourself,” he said, pointing a finger at Aurelio.
Aurelio glowered, several inches shorter than Tad, but his fists were clenched. “If you ever try something like that with her again, I’ll—”
“Aurelio,” Bonnie wailed, clinging to his arm.
Tad smirked. “Don’t tell me you believe in that sweet little girl act of hers? Trust me, she’s not as innocent as—”
Aurelio’s fist stopped the words. Bonnie screamed as Tad toppled back into a large man, who shoved him away. Tad righted himself and swung, but Aurelio dodged easily, as Bonnie squealed and fell sideways into the three-tiered cake. Absurdly, she whirled and tried to save the cake, grabbing it as it smashed into her chest.
Kate pushed through the crowd and grabbed Tad’s arm as he lifted it to swing again. “The movie,” she reminded him in a sharp undertone. “We have filming tomorrow, and you’ll bruise him.”
Tad tried to shove her off, then saw who it was and calmed. “That worthless little—”
“—is the star of your picture,” she hissed, keeping a tight grip on his arm. “You’ve had too much to drink. Go outside and cool off.”
Tad pointed an angry finger at Aurelio with his free hand. “You’ll go nowhere in this town, I’ll see to that!”
“Tad.” Kate squeezed his arm. “Everyone is looking.”
Mrs. Fairchild appeared at the edge of their circle, her horrified gaze landing on Bonnie, who was covered in cake. She released a furious breath. “You silly girl!”
Bonnie’s bottom lip quivered, her smeared arms held out to her sides.
“It’s my fault,” Aurelio said, futilely brushing at the clumps of cake and frosting.
Mrs. Fairchild snapped, “Get away from her.”
“Tad started it!” Bonnie wailed.
“Hardly.” Tad rubbed his jaw.
The party had gone unusually quiet. Mrs. Fairchild shot a quick glance over the room and straightened her posture. “I think it’s best if you and your friends leave,” she told Aurelio with rigid composure.
“Mama—that’s not fair!” Bonnie’s blue eyes welled with tears.
“It’s all right,” Aurelio murmured.
Kate stepped forward. “Let’s go upstairs, Bonnie, and I’ll help you clean up.”
But Bonnie burst into tears and fled, pushing people aside.
Kate hurried after her, weaving her way around guests and side tables. She entered the front foyer as Bonnie was nearing the top of the staircase. “Bonnie, wait.” She started up after her.
“Kate!” Hugo called.
She stopped halfway up—took a second to inhale, preparing herself to see him with new eyes—and then turned. She gripped the banister.
Hugo gazed up, his brow furrowed. “What happened?”
He didn’t look like a killer; he looked like the boy who’d offered her his heart last night, knowing she might break it. Doubt squeezed her chest.
“Kate?” His concern deepened.
He looked so wrong at this party in his oversize suit—not a suave performer putting on an act, but raw and real. And honest. “We need to talk,” she told him. “But I need to help Bonnie first.”
Aurelio came from the living room, his expression stormy. “We’ve been kicked out.” He left through the front door.
But Hugo didn’t move, his eyes on Kate. “I’ll wait for you. There’s a little office by the kitchen.”
“All right.” She would demand answers soon, but for now, she followed Bonnie upstairs.