CHAPTER 9

I examined what I’d caught, and saw that it was a carefully wrapped packet. As I studied it, I had to wonder how it could fit between the fan and the filter. Then I noticed that Peter had removed the fan blades entirely, so that the motor would still turn, giving it the illusion of working properly, but no air would be circulated.

What was so important that he had to go to that measure to hide it?

“How did you know about this?”

“Peter always bragged about how clever he was. In a way, he told me himself.”

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“He once said in passing that if he ever had anything he wanted to protect, he’d give it to his biggest fan. After he said it, he laughed more than he should have, and it sort of stuck with me.”

“You are a clever woman, have I told you that lately?” I asked. I started to open the packet when Grace asked, “May I?”

“Of course,” I said. It was a small enough consolation. I figured Grace had a better reason than I did to be curious about what Peter had been up to, and she had the right to discover first what he had hidden so carefully.

As she opened the packet, I watched over her shoulder to see what might be there.

The first thing I saw was a wad of hundred-dollar bills, banded tightly together.

“How much is there?” I asked.

Grace thumbed through the bills. “It looks like three grand in cash.”

“Why would someone hide that kind of money in a kitchen?”

“It could be that he didn’t like to have all of his money tied up in banks,” Grace said.

“Maybe,” I replied, though I doubted that had been the real reason. More likely it was getaway money, but I was going to keep that to myself for now. “What else is in there?”

She took out the folded document, and at first I thought it might be a letter, but as Grace opened it, I read over her shoulder and saw that it was something completely different.

It was simply a list.

*   *   *

“Is that all there is?” I asked.

Grace shrugged, so I picked up the wrapping to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. Sure enough, stuck to the bottom of a piece of tape was a small, stubby key. I finally worked it free, and I held it up in the air to study it a little closer. “We’ve got a key.”

Grace looked up, clearly surprised. “Where was that hiding?”

“It was in the packet, but the more important question is, where’s the lock it opens?” I studied the small key. It had a black plastic grip, and printed on it was the word “WINGATE,” along with a number, 282.

Grace took one look at it and said, “It’s the key to a safe.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I used to have one myself,” she admitted.

“A key or a safe?”

She shrugged briefly. “Both, I suppose.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well,” Grace said with the flash of a smile. “I don’t tell you everything about me.”

“What happened to the safe?” I asked. “Do you still have it?”

“Sure, it’s still at the house, but I stopped using it. As a matter of fact, I emptied it out years ago,” she admitted. “I didn’t feel good having my valuables at the house. I figured my bank account came with a free safe-deposit box, so why not use it?”

I looked around. “Well, clearly Peter didn’t feel that way. Do you think whoever searched the place found his safe, but not the key?”

“If they did, they wouldn’t necessarily need a key to open it. The safes these keys fit are small, and I’m willing to bet that they aren’t impossible to break into without a key, if you’re motivated enough.”

I looked around at the wrecked apartment. “I can’t imagine that whoever did this tore the place up looking for a key. I’ve got a feeling that the safe is still here.”

I was interrupted by someone at the door, and then I heard Rose come in with the boxes she’d promised to retrieve. I’d forgotten all about her!

Grace made the money and the letter disappear, and I slipped the key into my pocket.

Rose spied the filter lying on the stovetop, and then looked up at the vent. “What happened here?”

“I’m guessing the fan’s broken,” I said, stating the obvious. “Can you believe it?”

Rose looked at it carefully. “This was done intentionally.”

“Well, we didn’t do it,” I said. “We saw that the filter was loose, and when we tried to put it back in place, it just fell onto the stovetop.” That was a big fat lie, but I wasn’t about to admit to Rose what we’d just found.

She considered it for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well, I hate to do it, but it has to be fixed. I’m going to have to take the cost of repair out of Peter’s security deposit.” Rose looked around, and then added, “You didn’t make much progress while I was gone, did you?”

“We needed the boxes, remember?” I asked as I took one from her. “We can all get started now. Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Rose said. “I’m sorry if I snapped at you earlier. This is all a little too much to take, and I’m more on edge than I realized.”

“I’m just glad we were here to help,” I said.

As we worked to gather Peter’s things together and box them, Grace and I kept searching for something else of importance, including the missing safe, but if anything important or significant was there, we missed it. Nor did I believe that Rose had found anything. I’d made it a point to keep an eye on her, just in case she stumbled onto something that could help us solve Peter’s murder, but she didn’t have any more luck than we did. As we all worked, I was dying to see the list Peter had hidden so carefully, but that was going to have to wait until Grace and I were alone. In a depressingly short period of time, we had Peter’s things boxed up and ready for his brother. We’d filled several trash bags as well with the flotsam and jetsam we all seem to accumulate in our lives, and we set these out in front of the apartment, to be hauled to the Dumpster.

Once the fan blade was replaced and everything had a good cleaning, the apartment would be ready to rent again, and I didn’t doubt for a second that Peter Morgan’s memory would quickly fade from the place. It was sad in a way that I didn’t want to think about too much.

We were stacking the four boxes of Peter’s things outside the apartment when we heard a booming voice from below us say, “What do you think you’re doing?”

It seemed that Peter’s brother, Bryan, had arrived, and he was none too pleased to find Grace and me there.

*   *   *

“I asked you a question. What are you two doing here?” Bryan asked as he stood over us. He was a big man, and while his brother had had a grace about him that even I had to admit was charming, Bryan had none of it. It was dislike at first sight between the two of us, and I imagined Bryan got that reaction more often than not whenever he met new people.

Grace didn’t seem to mind him at all, though. She hugged him as she said, “Bryan, I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

The gruff exterior crumbled, if only for a moment, before he spoke. He looked down at her awkwardly, and then finally managed to free himself from Grace’s embrace. “He told me you broke up with him, Grace. He was pretty shattered about it all when he called me.”

“He made a mistake,” Grace said. “That doesn’t mean that I didn’t love him in my own way. There was always the chance we could have fixed things between us, but someone’s robbed me of that opportunity now.”

Was Grace telling the truth, or was she just trying to get on Bryan’s good side? In my heart, I had a feeling that Grace wasn’t lying. It had to have been tougher on her finding out about Peter than I’d realized, even though I’d reacted differently when I’d discovered Max had been cheating on me.

“You’re right. It’s too late for all of that now, isn’t it?” He didn’t say it with malice, but I had to wonder how Grace would take it as he turned to me. “Okay, I buy that she’s got a reason to be here, and so does Ms. White. Why are you here?”

“I’m a friend of Grace’s, and I wanted to help. I’m Suzanne Hart,” I said as I extended my hand.

He took it briefly, but there was no warmth in his handshake. “I know who you are,” Bryan said. “You’re that donut lady.”

I’d been called worse in my life, and it was certainly descriptive of what I did for a living, but I still didn’t like the way he’d said it. “That’s right, I’m the donut lady.”

“This is none of your business,” Bryan said flatly.

“Hey, I don’t have any desire to step on anyone’s toes here. I was just trying to lend a hand,” I said. There was nothing to be gained by me hovering around, so I touched Grace’s arm and said, “I’ll see you in the car.”

“Thanks for helping,” Rose said, clearly trying to smooth things over. “Your assistance was greatly appreciated.”

“Glad I could pitch in,” I said. I turned to Bryan and added, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He just nodded, so I walked back to Grace’s car to wait for her.

At least that’s what I wanted all of them to think. There was a space under Peter’s apartment I’d seen earlier, a breezeway where I could stand out of sight and still hear their conversation. Maybe Bryan would be a little more open if he thought that I was really gone.

“She really was just trying to help,” Grace started off, but Bryan wouldn’t let her continue.

“Whatever. I say this is none of her business, but she’s gone, so it doesn’t matter anymore,” he said.

As he reached down to collect two of the garbage bags, Rose said, “You want the boxes. That’s just what needs to be thrown away.”

“This stuff didn’t come from his apartment?” Bryan asked.

“Of course it did, but it’s nothing you’d want to have. It’s trash.”

“If it’s Peter’s, then I’m taking it, too,” Bryan said firmly.

“Suit yourself,” Grace said. “Would you like us to give you a hand loading it up?”

“I can handle it myself,” Bryan said.

“If you don’t need me then, I’ll be going now,” Grace said. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and for a moment, I worried that I was about to be caught eavesdropping by someone other than my best friend, but happily it just turned out to be Grace.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Over here.”

Grace had been intent on leaving the complex, but I finally managed to get her attention. She veered over and joined me from my vantage point.

“I thought you were gone,” Grace whispered.

“I thought I might hear something if I stuck around,” I answered in kind.

Upstairs, I heard Rose say to Bryan, “You didn’t need to be so rude to them. They were just giving me a hand.”

“That’s not their jobs; it’s yours,” Bryan said gruffly.

“And it’s finished now, so you don’t need me anymore,” Rose said.

I could hear her walking away when Bryan spoke up. “What about my deposit?”

“What? As far as I’m concerned, you didn’t make one; your brother did.”

“I’m his only family,” Bryan said. “Everything he had is mine now.”

Rose’s voice rose. “Mr. Morgan, I indulged you by letting you collect your brother’s things out of sympathy, but I’m beginning to believe that I made a mistake. Please put everything back into the apartment. When you present a legal document that gives you access to your brother’s things, I’ll release them, but not until then.”

I thought Rose was nuts to confront him like that, but I did admire her spirit. “Who’s going to stop me from just taking everything anyway?”

Her voice stiffened. “Detective Newberry lives in Apartment Number 8. He is probably still sleeping since he works the night shift, but I’ll wake him if I must.”

The length of silence was unbearable, and I had to wonder who would back down first. Feet stomped on the steps now, and only Bryan’s pause saved us as we hurried away.

“You didn’t win anything here, lady,” I heard him say. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here waiting,” she said, and Grace and I hustled out of there before Bryan could catch us.

As we raced back to Grace’s car, I said, “Good for her. I love it that she didn’t let him bully her.”

“I’m not sure how much good it did, though,” Grace said. “Bryan’s right. He was Peter’s only living relative. I can’t imagine the circumstances where he won’t get everything.”

“Maybe so, but it’s going to be done by the book. When he asked about the security deposit, I had a sick feeling that Rose was about to tell him about the altered fan.”

Grace nodded. “I was holding my breath, too. The last thing I want is Bryan Morgan discovering that we found Peter’s secret stash.”

We got into her car and drove a few miles when I said, “Speaking of our discovery, may I see the list we found?”

Grace nodded as she pulled over into a nearly empty parking lot for an auto parts supply house. “I’ve been curious about that myself, but I wanted to make sure we got far enough away from the apartment complex.”

As she pulled the note out, I leaned over so that we could both see what Peter had written there.

I had to believe it was important.

Why else hide it along with the cash he’d squirreled away?

As we both studied it, I saw that it was a list of names, a real mess, with new ones added and old ones struck out with pen and pencil. It was clear by the state of it that Peter had kept it for a long time before he decided to hide it. A thought suddenly struck me. Could we be certain that it was his list to begin with?

“Is this Peter’s handwriting?” I asked Grace.

“It is, no doubt about it,” she answered. “I can’t figure out why he kept it, though.”

“It’s pretty clear, isn’t it?” At the head of the page, written in large block letters, the words “RAT LIST” were written. “Did you know about this, Grace?”

She shrugged. “I knew that Peter was a fool for lists, but this is a little hard to take, don’t you think? Who does this kind of thing, anyway?”

“I’m not the one to ask,” I said. “It makes for some pretty interesting reading, though, doesn’t it?”

I took the paper from Grace, with her approval, and started reading it a little closer.

Brother Bryan was first on the list, no last name needed. It had been crossed out a number of times, and from the look of it, Peter’s brother had bounced in and out of favor with him since the list had been started who knew how long ago.

As I read down the list of names, I saw our other suspects mentioned there, and more. Besides Leah Gentry and Henry Lincoln, I was surprised to see Kaye Belson and Rose White, but nothing prepared me for the final two names I found written there. I nearly dropped the paper when I saw the name Nan Winters. What had my new assistant done to get on Peter’s bad side?

But nothing compared to how I felt when I saw the last name on the list. It was the worst one for me to read, though I shouldn’t have been surprised to see it.

Grace Gauge’s name was written all in caps, and struck through just once with red ink, a very final slash.

“Nan’s on his list?” Grace asked. “I don’t understand that at all.”

“You didn’t realize that they knew each other?”

“I didn’t have a clue. I’m amazed that I knew anything Peter ever did. How about you? Did she say anything to you when she found out about Peter’s murder?”

I shook my head. “No, but I’ve certainly got a few things to talk to Nan about when she comes into work tomorrow.”

“What else besides Peter?” Grace asked as she started driving again.

“That’s right, I never got a chance to tell you. One of the photographs in Rose’s apartment was of her and Nan together. They looked pretty chummy.”

Grace slowed a little, and I had to wonder if she even realized that she was doing it. “Your new assistant is in this up to her ears, isn’t she?”

“Either that, or it’s an awfully big coincidence, and you know how I feel about those.”

Grace asked, “Are we going back home now?”

“I suppose we could, but I thought we might see if we can find Kaye Belson, since we’re already in Union Square. From the sound of it, she and Peter had a bit of a love-hate relationship going on. Is that okay with you?”

“Suzanne, I’m grateful for every second you can spare me. I need to find out what happened to Peter, despite how we ended things. It’s the only way I’m ever going to be able to put this all behind me.”

“I’ll give you every moment I can,” I said. “You know that. How are you handling things? You seemed a little too brave to me a few times this afternoon.”

She sighed. “I’m walling it off, if you want to know the truth. The less I think about my emotions, the better off I’ll be.”

“It’s okay to express your feelings, you know.”

Grace shook her head. “There will be plenty of time for that after we solve his murder. When we’ve caught the killer, I’ll let myself wallow a little. I could use some company then, if you’re interested.”

“I’ll be there. You can count on me, along with cookies, ice cream, soda, and anything else you can name.”

“How about a dozen donuts?” she asked with a slight smile.

I laughed. “You name the variety, and they’re yours.”

“Let me think about it,” Grace said.

We made it to the downtown area of Union Square, but neither one of us really knew where to go from there. “Any ideas about how we might find Kaye?” Grace asked me.

“We’ve got a ready source here we shouldn’t discount. I say we talk to the DeAngelis ladies and see if they can help.” Angelica DeAngelis and her three daughters; Maria, Antonia, and Sophia, ran Napoli’s, the best Italian restaurant in ten counties. I’d grown quite fond of their family over the years, and I believed that the feeling was mutual.

Maria was at the front door, and her smile blossomed as Grace and I walked in. Each daughter was lovely in her own right, true reflections of their mother’s beauty. “Ladies. It’s so very nice to see you. I have a perfect table for you.”

“We’re not here to eat,” I admitted. “We wondered if we might ask you a few questions.”

Maria lowered her voice. “I’ll do what I can, but Momma is in one of her moods. It would help if you had a little something, you know? She loves feeding you, Suzanne. It might just cheer her up.”

I looked at Grace. “What do you think? I am hungry.”

“I can always eat, especially if it’s here at Napoli’s,” she replied.

“Okay, but we’re in a time crunch,” I said to Maria. “Could we keep it simple?”

“Two spaghettis, no extras, maybe a little wine; how does that sound?” Maria asked.

I had dreams sometimes of DeAngelis pasta, so it was an easy sale. “Done.”

“Then I’ll be right back,” she said after she seated us at a table near the kitchen. Maria disappeared through the swinging door, and Grace said, “Actually, I kind of forgot how hungry I was.”

“If you’re hinting around that you want my spaghetti, too, sorry. You’re out of luck.”

She grinned for a moment, and I could see something of my friend buried under her grief. “I’ll try to control myself.”

Maria came back out with two glasses of wine and matching plates of pasta on a tray. A patron across the room complained, “Hey, that’s not right. They just got here, and we haven’t even been served yet.”

“They made their arrangements earlier,” Maria said warmly. “Don’t worry; your food will be out shortly.”

The man wanted to be angry, that much was clear, but Maria’s charm seemed to melt away his temper. “That’s fine; I’m sorry for the complaint.”

“We’re just happy you’re dining with us this evening,” she said as she bathed him in her warmest smile.

“You’re good,” I said softly as Maria served us.

“Men are like puppies,” she said lightly. “All they really long for is a warm smile and a little praise. Who doesn’t like to feel special?”

I nodded. “I know I always feel like a VIP when I’m here.”

“That’s because you are,” she said. “Momma has given us all standing orders that you are to be pampered whenever you visit us. The family owes you a great debt.”

I thought back to the small service I’d done for them once. “It’s not necessary.”

“Speak for yourself,” Grace said as she looked at her plate. “I’m glad to finally get a perk for being your best friend.”

Maria laughed. “I imagine there are more than just your visits here. Now, you wanted to ask me a question.”

I looked back at the impatient patron. “You can get his food first, if you’d like.”

Maria shook her head. “He can wait another moment.”

“Okay. Grace and I were wondering if you know someone in town named Kaye Belson.”

Maria’s smile faded, if just for a moment. “May I ask why you’re interested in her?”

“We believe she might know something about Peter Morgan’s murder,” I admitted. I might dance around the truth with some people, but the DeAngelis clan deserved my honesty, and I was going to give it to them unless there was an extremely compelling reason not to.

She looked taken aback by the news. It was a rare stumble for her, and Maria quickly recovered. “It is Sophia you need to speak with.”

“She knows her, then?”

“They are best friends, much like the two of you,” Maria admitted, “though we sometimes worry about how close they’ve become.”

She hurried back to the kitchen, and I took a bite of pasta while I could. If Sophia got upset by our questions, we might have to make a quick getaway, and I wasn’t about to pass up a plate of their pasta as a sacrifice for our investigation. I would try to have both if I could.

Sophia came out a minute later, carrying the patron’s food on a tray. She served it a little haphazardly, and then took a seat at our table. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to say this. We need to speak with Kaye Belson.”

Sophia’s expression clouded over, and I could see her mother in her just then. Of all the DeAngelis women, Sophia showed her emotions most openly. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“We heard you two were best friends,” Grace said.

Sophia turned to her. “The key word in that sentence is ‘were.’ It’s definitely in the past tense.”

“What happened between you two?” I asked, curious about what could split up such close friends.

“When she started dating Peter Morgan, I couldn’t tolerate her behavior anymore,” she said, not able to make eye contact with either one of us as she said it.

“It’s okay, Sophia. We weren’t married,” Grace said softly.

“Maybe not, but you were committed to each other, and Kaye knew it when she took up with Peter. I tried to tell her it was wrong sneaking around with him like that, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I really am sorry.”

Grace patted Sophia’s hand. “You don’t owe me any apologies. Is there anything you can tell us about her?”

“She’s pretty; there’s no question about that. Up until the past three months, Kaye had a really level head about it, but when Peter started showing her some attention, she changed. All it took were a few soft words, and she was lost to him.”

“Peter could be very persuasive,” Grace said. “Do you think Kaye will talk to us about her relationship with him?”

“Alone? Not a chance,” Sophia said.

“Would you come with us, then?” I asked softly. It was a great deal to ask, and I knew it, but we needed to talk to Kaye.

“Is it that important to you?” she asked, clearly reluctant to acquiesce.

“I wouldn’t ask otherwise,” I said.

“Let me talk to Momma,” she said, and stood abruptly.

When Sophia was gone, I said, “I’m not sure how this is going to go, so if you’d like a last bite, I’d take it right now.”

I did as I advised Grace, and we were finishing up when Angelica came out. A few diners tried to catch her gaze as she came out of the kitchen, but her attention was focused solely on us. “Suzanne, is what Sophia just told me true?”

How did I know exactly what her youngest daughter had just said? “We need her help. I’m sorry to ask, but there’s no other way.”

Angelica pursed her lips, and then asked, “This involves Peter Morgan’s murder, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “It does, but I don’t think there’s any chance your daughter is in danger. If you’re not comfortable with her going with us, though, I completely understand.”

Angelica shook her head briefly. “Nonsense. The DeAngelis women don’t back down from danger, not for our friends. I just want your assurance that there’s no other way.”

“I can’t do that,” I said. “Grace and I haven’t even spoken with Kaye yet. We just have your daughter’s word that she won’t talk to us. We can try to see her ourselves first.”

“Sophia said that Kaye wouldn’t speak with you without her?”

“She did, but it’s fine,” I said as I stood, with Grace following. “Dinner was wonderful.” I took a twenty from my wallet and pressed it in her palm. “Thanks so much.”

I was nearly out of the dining room when Angelica caught up with us. “Suzanne, don’t leave. I didn’t say no.”

“You didn’t say yes, either,” I said. “Angelica, I get it, I honestly do. You have every right to look after your daughters.”

“Wait here,” she commanded us, and I didn’t have the nerve to disobey.

“How long do we wait?” Grace asked.

“As long as it takes,” I replied. There was no way I was going against Angelica’s order. Her friendship, not to mention her food, meant too much to me. Besides, I would never be able to face Jake again if I got us banned from our favorite restaurant.

Angelica came out two minutes later with Sophia in tow.

“She’ll take you to Kaye,” Angelica said.

“Are you sure?”

“Just keep her safe,” Angelica said.

“Momma, I’m old enough to watch out for myself,” she protested.

“I know you are, but indulge your mother,” Angelica replied. “And don’t linger. We need you here tonight.”

Angelica kissed her daughter’s cheek, and Sophia immediately rubbed the lipstick off.

Once we were outside, I asked, “Where should we start looking for Kaye?”

“We don’t have to look far,” Sophia admitted. “I know exactly where she is.”