It was eleven o’clock on Monday morning when Carla turned into the driveway of the beach house again. Almost twelve hours had passed since she’d left the party, and the parking area was still crowded with cars. Vera’s old Honda was still there, right next to Michael’s Lincoln, but with the exception of a pickup truck she didn’t recognize, all the rest of the cars belonged to the police.
Carla parked behind Michael’s Lincoln, and got out of her car. Yellow tape with black lettering blocked off the path around the side of the house. It was printed with the legend, DO NOT ENTER—POLlCE CRIME SCENE.
“Carla! Wait up!”
Carla turned to see Andy pulling into the driveway. Linda was with him, and she was frowning as she jumped out of the van. “Isn’t it awful? Andy says they found another arrow!”
“I know.” Carla nodded. “Andy told me when he called. But why do the police want to see us?”
Andy came up just in time to hear her question. “My uncle needs to interview everyone who was at the party. He’s in charge now, and he’s the one who decided to do the interviews here.”
“But, why?” Carla was curious.
“He thought that bringing everyone to the scene of the party might jog our memories about what happened last night.”
“They don’t think Michael had anything to do with it, do they?” Carla held her breath as she waited for Andy to answer.
“I don’t know. My uncle didn’t tell me much on the phone. He just said to call everyone and tell them to come here. That’s all I know, Carla . . . really.”
When they knocked on the front door, a young rookie answered. They gave him their names, and he checked them off on a list. Then he motioned to them to follow him. “Right this way. They’re meeting in the living room.”
The living room was large, and there were several couches and chairs. Carla felt her eyes fill with tears as she saw Michael sitting alone on a couch. He looked pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Carla?”
Michael looked up and met her eyes. He didn’t say any more, but Carla knew exactly what he wanted. She sat down next to him, and gave him a big hug. And then she motioned for Andy and Linda to join them. Michael needed his friends around him.
Just then Detective Davis came out of the dining room, and motioned to a stranger who was sitting in a chair across the room. The stranger got up to follow Detective Davis, and the door closed behind them.
The minute they were gone, Linda turned to Michael. “Who was that? I didn’t notice him at the party.”
“That was Vera’s brother. He got here at three a.m. He’s the one who found Vera and called the police. I didn’t even know there was anything wrong until I heard the sirens and woke up.”
“Woke up where?” Carla held her breath. She hoped it wasn’t where she thought it was.
“Out on the beach. I went to sleep behind the bar. I guess Vera came out to look for me, because her brother found her about fifty yards away.”
“But why were you sleeping outside?” Linda was clearly puzzled. “There was a storm last night.”
“That’s what they told me. But I slept through it. Actually, I was . . . uh . . . it’s kind of embarrassing, but I guess I was passed out cold.”
“The vodka.” Andy nodded. “You drank a lot of it. Vera told the bartender to spike your drinks. I tried to warn you, but you were too drunk to listen to me.”
“I wish I had!”
Carla nodded. She wished the same thing. But it was too late to think about that. Michael hadn’t listened, and now he was in big trouble.
“Let me get this straight.” Andy began to add up the facts. “You were passed out behind the bar, and Vera went out to look for you. But the Cupid Killer found her and killed her. And then her brother just happened to come out here at three in the morning, looking for her?”
Michael nodded. “That’s what he said.”
“There’s something strange going on.” Andy looked very serious. “Did you tell Vera you’d spend the night with her?”
“That’s right. I promised her I’d stay after the party.”
“Then why did she have to spike your drinks to keep you here? And why did her brother show up at three o’clock? It just doesn’t make sense unless . . . wait a second! Think carefully, Michael. Do you think Vera was setting you up for the badger game?”
“The what?” Michael frowned.
“The badger game. A girl gets a guy in bed with her, and then her husband, or some other member of her family catches them. It’s all set up ahead of time, but the guy doesn’t know that. He’s scared, so he pays them off. That would explain why Vera spiked your drinks.”
“Huh?” Michael winced and held his head. “Sorry. I’m not thinking very well right now. You’d better explain it again.”
“Let me put this another way. What would you have said if Vera had asked you to go to bed with her? Be honest.”
Michael frowned. “I would have told her thanks, but no thanks. Vera was a nice girl, but I wasn’t interested in her that way. When I promised I’d stay the night with her, I made it very clear that nothing was going to happen between us.”
“Ah-ha!” Andy looked excited. “Vera knew you wouldn’t cooperate, so she spiked your drinks to get you in bed! She probably figured you’d go along with her if you were drunk. And then her brother was supposed to find you, and raise the roof.”
“But, why? I don’t have any money.”
“Your parents do.” Carla sighed deeply. She was beginning to understand exactly where Andy’s questions were leading. “Vera must have thought that your parents would pay to keep the whole thing quiet. I know she was desperate for money. She borrowed fifty dollars from me just last week.”
Linda gave a little groan, and they turned to look at her. She was clearly upset. “This is my fault! I never realized that Vera would take me seriously. But she must have!”
“What are you talking about?” Andy put his arm around Linda’s shoulder and gave her a little shake. “Tell us!”
“Well . . . Vera told me they wouldn’t let her enroll in modeling school unless she could raise a thousand dollars by the first of September. She said she’d already borrowed from everybody at Covers, but she was still five hundred short.”
Andy looked surprised. “So that’s where the money was going! She borrowed fifty from me, too.”
“She was really worried about it.” Linda gave a little sigh. “She told me she’d die if she couldn’t get into that modeling course. She said she didn’t know how she was going to raise the money, and I . . . I told her to go out and find a rich boyfriend!”
“Okay, I get the picture.” Andy stood up and squared his shoulders. “Excuse me, guys. I’ve got to talk to my uncle.”
They watched as Andy marched in the dining room door, and then Carla turned to Michael. “Do you think your parents would have paid Vera five hundred dollars?”
“Maybe.” Michael looked thoughtful. “They might have done it, I’m just not sure. But I can’t believe Vera would set me up for something like that. There has to be some other explanation!”
Carla and Linda exchanged glances. They didn’t have any trouble believing that Vera had set Michael up. They knew how desperate she’d been for money, and they’d never thought that Vera had been serious about exorcising Judy’s ghost. Vera and her brother had planned the whole thing to take advantage of Michael’s good nature. That made Carla so mad, she was almost glad that Vera was dead.
“Well . . .” Linda sighed deeply. “We’ll never know for sure unless Vera’s brother talks. Right, Carla?”
Carla nodded, but her mind wasn’t really on Vera’s brother. She was thinking about a problem that had occurred only to her, and she certainly didn’t want to share her concerns with Linda and Michael. Vera could have planned to extort money from Michael’s parents. That made perfect sense. But if Michael had tumbled to her scheme, it would have given him the perfect motive to kill her!
The interviews with the police took up most of the day. Mr. Calloway offered to cancel the performance at Covers that evening, but no one wanted that to happen. Covers had a perfect record for the two years it had been in existence. They’d never canceled a performance before, and they weren’t about to do it now.
Carla sighed as she glanced out at the audience. A full house. And everyone who came in, wanted to know about how Vera had died. Of course they hadn’t given out any information, but rumors were flying.
“Carla?” Linda tapped her on the shoulder. “Michael wants to see you. He’s in the dressing room.”
“How is he?”
“Shaky. Very shaky. I think he needs a pep talk before he goes out on stage.”
Carla nodded, and headed for the dressing room. Of course Michael was shaky. They all were. But he had more reason to be upset than any of them. He was definitely a suspect. Andy had told her that. Even though Michael claimed he’d been behind the bar sleeping, there were no witnesses to prove that it was true. And since he admitted to being right there on the beach when Vera had been murdered, the police had interviewed him for hours before they’d finally let him go.
“Michael?” Carla knocked on the door, and Michael called out for her to come in. She pushed open the door, and gasped as she saw him sitting on a chair in front of the makeup table. In the harsh lights, his face looked haggard, and no amount of stage makeup could conceal the dark circles under his eyes or the pale cast to his skin.
“Carla. Boy, am I glad to see you!” Michael patted the chair next to him. “They think I did it, you know.”
“Who thinks you did it?”
“Everybody. The police, Vera’s relatives, everybody here at Covers. And I didn’t, Carla! I didn’t kill Vera!”
“I know you didn’t.” Carla put her arm around Michael’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. But Michael pulled away.
“You’ll doubt me, too, when I tell you what I told the police. But I have to tell you. It’s the truth. And I can’t hold anything back from you. It wouldn’t be right.”
Carla frowned slightly. What was Michael talking about? “You can tell me, Michael. It won’t make any difference. I’m sure you didn’t kill Vera, and nothing’s going to change my mind.”
“When I went down to the bar, I found the bottle of vodka. My name was on it in Vera’s handwriting, and I knew she’d been spiking my drinks. I didn’t know why, but I was mad enough to kill her. And then I passed out.”
Carla nodded. “That’s just it, Michael. You passed out. There’s no way you could have killed Vera if you were passed out cold.”
“What if I woke up? I was so drunk, I might not remember. What if I heard Vera come down to the beach, looking for me? And what if I was still so mad about that bottle of vodka that I . . . I killed her?”
Carla sighed, and slipped her arm around Michael’s shoulder again. This time he didn’t pull away and she was glad. “Look, Michael . . . those are all what ifs. Sure, you could have killed her. But you didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Maybe I did. What if I knew that Vera was up to something? I knew you were drunk and Andy told me that she was spiking your drinks. What if I didn’t drive home? What if I came back, looking for you, and found Vera on the beach? What if I hit her over the head with a rock and killed her? And stuck that arrow in her chest so it would look like the Cupid Killer had done it?”
“But you didn’t do that.” Michael pulled Carla close. “I know you didn’t.”
Carla nodded. “Of course I didn’t. But I could have, just like you could have. Think about it, Michael. I’m trying to make an important point. You don’t believe that I’m the killer, and I don’t believe that you are. It’s all a matter of trust.”
“I guess you’re right.” Michael began to smile, and he hugged her tightly. “I trust you, and you trust me. I’m a lucky guy, Carla.”
But after Michael had left to go out on stage, Carla sat there for a moment, with a puzzled expression on her face. How could Michael possibly consider himself lucky? Most of the girls he’d dated had been murdered, the police suspected him of being the Cupid Killer, and almost all of his friends had turned against him. If that was luck, Carla hoped she’d be very unlucky in the days to come!