Dewey Decimated, page 25
“Oh, how awful!”
“He could have gotten his license back after a couple of years, but he probably knew he’d never live down that disaster. And so he left Colorado and came east.”
“And took on a new identity,” I mused.
“Uh huh. He found someone to forge an architect’s license and started drumming up business.”
“But why did he murder Sean?” I asked.
“I’m hoping both Ramas and Kevin will tell me why. Kevin’s grateful he escaped being murdered, so he’ll likely come clean about everything his father told him.”
I turned to John. “I realized Kevin was holding back about something. The trouble was so did Rafe—I mean, Victor Ramas.”
“According to Buzz, Sean was really pissed with the flaws in Rafe’s plans, flaws that a good architect would never make. Buzz couldn’t understand why Sean kept on working with Rafe, though he did say that Sean told him he was going to take care of the Rafe problem once and for all.”
I sighed. “And then he was murdered.”
John patted my shoulder. “Sean knew he was dying. The library renovations were to be his last job. He told Buzz he wanted them to be perfect, largely because of you and the great job you’ve been doing there.”
“Really?” I smiled. “I’m touched.”
“You should be. Sean was a good man.”
I stared at him.
“Yeah, I know. He killed Dylan’s uncle, not that he meant to, and he did some other things he shouldn’t have, but Sean Powell was my friend and I miss him.”
“I had no idea you two were friends,” I said.
That struck John’s funny bone. He laughed and laughed until a bout of coughing made him stop. “There are plenty of things in Clover Ridge you know nothing about.”
“Maybe, but I intend to find out,” I said.
“I know you will. That’s what scares me.”
John grinned, and I knew all was forgiven.
Chapter Thirty-Three
When I mentioned to John that Dylan was spending the night at the manor house, he insisted on seeing me safely inside the cottage. I couldn’t imagine why, since the only killer I knew about had just been apprehended. Smoky Joe must have heard us talking, because he came dashing into the hall, meowing loudly.
I yawned as I picked him up. “Thanks for driving me home.”
“You’re welcome. Get some sleep. I’ll take your statement tomorrow.”
John drove off and I fed Smoky Joe a few treats. Now Alec could finally leave. I drew a deep breath when I realized I had to call Dylan. I hated to wake him up but we needed to talk.
He answered immediately, sounding sleepy but alert. “What’s up?”
“Julie called me after I spoke to you last. She had a tip that Kevin Powell was meeting someone later tonight.”
“Carrie, don’t tell me—”
“Let me finish. Turns out he met Rafe Torres, the architect. He was about to kill Kevin in the parking lot when Julie stopped him.”
“Julie did?” Dylan sounded skeptical.
“Well, Kevin got into the act, and I helped out. I called John. He came and arrested Rafe for attempted murder.” I paused. “We’re sure he killed Sean but that has to be proved.”
“Ah,” Dylan said, seeing where this was going.
“Right. Now Alec can go to his resting place. I don’t know when that will happen or if it’s happened already, but I think it would be nice if you stopped by to say a final goodbye.”
Silence.
“Don’t you want to do that?”
“The thing is, I have an early breakfast business meeting. I can’t very well change it this late in the game. Though the restaurant’s only a fifteen-minute drive from Clover Ridge. When the meeting’s over, I’ll get to the library soon as I can.”
“That’s great. I know it will mean a lot to Alec—you coming to say goodbye.”
* * *
The following morning I drove into the library parking lot feeling woozy and strung out from too little sleep and too much coffee. It was ten to nine. I had ten minutes to pull myself together. I yanked open the door and was startled to find Angela, Sally, Marion, Fran, and a few others milling around as though they were waiting for me.
They were waiting for me.
I set Smoky Joe free of his carrier, and he trotted off. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Sally was beaming. “You’re a celebrity!”
Julie and her TV show.
Angela hugged me. “I’m so proud of you! Julie described every detail of how the two of you saved Kevin Powell’s life.”
“Well, actually Julie—” I started to explain.
“And tackled that architect,” Marion broke in. “What did he have against Kevin? She never explained.”
Fran, Angela’s boss, pursed her lips. “I always thought he looked suspicious. Just like a murderer.”
What does a murderer look like? I wondered.
“Sean Powell killed someone,” Harvey Kirk, who had just joined the group, pointed out. “Did he look like a murderer?”
And suddenly they were all babbling at the same time. I was relieved when Sally announced it was two minutes to nine and patrons would soon be coming through the doors. The crowd dispersed. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed straight to my office.
Evelyn was waiting for me, calmly perched on the edge of my assistants’ desk. I dropped into my chair and closed my eyes.
“I hear you’ve had a busy night,” she said.
“You could say that.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy you helped catch a killer?”
“Of course I’m pleased. And if Julie and I hadn’t been there, Kevin would be another of Rafe’s victims. It’s just …”
“Just?” Evelyn encouraged.
“Julie. She’s so pushy and bossy. She acts as though breaking a story is the most important thing in life. Up there with finding a cure for cancer and a solution to global warming.”
“From what I’ve heard, she certainly shared the spotlight with you.”
“I’m not interested in being in the spotlight. Or haven’t you noticed?”
Evelyn pursed her lips, knowing she’d gone too far.
“I care about these people. Okay, I hardly know Kevin, but I knew and liked his father. I even liked Rafe—I mean, Victor. But they’re not important to Julie. She’s only interested in making news. And she doesn’t care whose feelings she hurts.”
“Like John’s,” Evelyn said.
“Exactly. I hate the way she talked about him on TV. She made him sound like a bungling idiot. And John Mathers is no bungler.”
“I understand how you feel,” Evelyn said.
“And no matter what she says or does, I don’t intend to get involved in another one of her schemes.” I felt a pang of anxiety. “Where’s Alec? He hasn’t left, has he?”
“No. He’s upstairs in the attic.”
“Does he know that the man we knew as Rafe Torres killed Sean?”
“I certainly didn’t tell him.”
“I’d like to tell him now. I don’t know how this works or when Alec will be leaving, but Dylan will be stopping by to say goodbye.”
“I’ll go get him.”
Evelyn vanished. She reappeared two minutes later with Alec.
“Hello, Carrie. Any news?” he asked as he often did.
I smiled. “Yes, indeed. We know who murdered Sean Powell. He tried to murder Sean’s son last night.”
“Who was it?”
“The architect, Rafael Torres.”
“The good-looking fellow? Dresses well? Came here to the library a few times?”
I nodded.
“I recognized him. I’d seen him in the building next door and in the bar.”
“Really?” I scoffed. “You claim to have met half of Clover Ridge six years ago and all within a couple of days.”
Alec exhaled loudly. “What can I say? Whitehead made it his business to introduce me to lots of people—at the bar, over dinner, in the house. In fact …” He stared at me. “It just came back. Torres was there when Sean Powell and I got into that scuffle.”
“The scuffle that ended your life,” Evelyn murmured.
“So that’s why Sean kept on using Rafe as the architect for his projects,” I said.
Evelyn nodded. “Rafe was essentially blackmailing him.”
I thought back, remembering how frantic Rafe had been last night, wanting to know what exactly Sean had told Kevin. “And at some point, Sean learned the truth about Rafe and held it over his head.”
Evelyn snorted. “They ended up blackmailing each other.”
“What did Sean find out about Rafe?” Alec asked.
“That he’d lost his license because he’d designed a building that collapsed. His real name is Victor Ramas. He changed his name to avoid being associated with the catastrophe and got a fake license.”
“But why did he kill Sean?” Alec asked.
“I suspect Sean got fed up with having to deal with an architect who was incompetent or careless—or both—and he let Rafe know he was planning to inform the authorities. Sean was dying and no longer worried about the consequences to himself. A fake architect’s license would mean the end of Ramas’ career and possibly a prison term.”
“So I can leave, right? Go wherever I’m supposed to go?” Alec asked.
“You will be on your way very soon,” Evelyn said.
Alec and I stared at her.
“You knew all along,” I said.
“Well …” Evelyn lifted her palms. “You had a few things to tell Alec so I thought it best to wait till you were done.”
“This is wonderful news!” In his delight, Alec rose and floated about the room. Papers on the two desks rustled and blew about. Some spilled to the floor, but I didn’t have the heart to reprimand him.
“I can’t wait to move on, though I’ll miss you, Carrie. Thank you so much for looking after me.” He glanced at Evelyn, who was frowning. “And thank you, Evelyn.”
“Dylan should be here any—”
The door to my office opened and Dylan entered. Alec dropped down to a standing position.
“Hello, Dylan. Good to see you again,” Alec said.
“I stopped in to say goodbye,” Dylan said, “and to wish you well, wherever it is you’re going.”
“Thanks, Dylan. It means a lot. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better uncle.”
Dylan shrugged. “That’s all history.”
“Still, I should have been more responsible and at least showed up when I said I would. I’ve always loved you and … you deserved better.”
“Thanks.” After a minute, Dylan said, “I still have some great memories from the times you visited when I was a kid.”
“That’s why I came to Clover Ridge six years ago. I had some money and wanted to invest in a property. Eventually move here to be closer to you.”
“I would have liked that,” Dylan said softly.
I became aware of the seconds ticking by. “Alec, is there anything else you remember about the time you spent here before …?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Just meeting all those people and hearing about their various plans and projects. The days and nights seemed to run together.”
I exchanged glances with Dylan and Evelyn. The murders had been resolved, and we knew why Rafe had murdered Sean. Of course the story behind it was complicated. Only Alec and Kevin knew that Rafe/Victor had been with Sean when he’d struck that fatal blow. It was up to John’s expertise as an interrogator to extract a confession from the murderer.
“One more thing,” Alec said.
“Yes?” The three of us said together.
“The period before I came to Clover Ridge is clearer in my mind. This morning I suddenly remembered the one thing I saved when I sold Uncle Humphrey’s house.”
“What was it?” Dylan asked.
“A painting.” Alec laughed. “Brilliant colors. All squiggles and swirls. Not my taste at all. I only kept it because Uncle Humphrey said a childhood friend of his had painted it. He’d become famous, even more so after he died. In fact, many of his paintings are in museums.”
“Where is this painting now?” Evelyn asked.
“I stored it in my friend Jack Winslow’s place. Jack has a large finished basement and he said I could leave the painting there along with a bunch of other stuff till I decided what to do with it.”
“What’s the artist’s name?” Dylan asked.
“Haggerty. Was it … Tom Haggerty?” Alec said.
“Terrance Haggerty?” Dylan asked, his eyes glowing with excitement.
“Yeah, that could be it.”
Dylan put his hand to his head. “Terrance Haggerty was one of the most famous abstract artists who lived in the Chicago area. He died about fifteen years ago. His paintings are worth hundreds of thousands of dollars!”
“Maybe not this one,” Alec said. “I think he painted it when he was twenty, twenty-one.”
“Still,” Dylan said, “all of Haggerty’s work is valuable. How did Uncle Humphrey come to acquire it?”
“If I remember correctly—he told me the story years ago—it was his twenty-first birthday and they were going out drinking with a bunch of friends. Terry didn’t have money to buy Uncle Humphrey a gift, so he painted him a picture.”
“Where does this Jack Winslow live?” Dylan asked.
“About a half hour’s drive outside of Chicago. In a big, rambling house near a lake.”
I sensed the change in the air even before it began to undulate. I blinked as the office was bathed in a dazzling light. Tiny sparks, like hundreds of fireflies, flittered throughout the room.
“It’s time,” Evelyn said, reaching for Alec’s hand.
A moment later they were gone and the office resumed its usual appearance. Dylan wore a dazed expression, no doubt mirroring the way I looked as well.
“He’s gone.” He sank heavily into my assistants’ chair. “So suddenly.”
I went over to Dylan and put my arm around his shoulders. Though they hadn’t been close in many years, Alec was still his uncle, and his final departure had clearly filled him with deep emotion.
Dylan rubbed his head against my arm. “And now I’ll never see him again.”
“Despite all the trouble Alec caused, I’m going to miss him.”
“And all that talk about a painting just before he took off.”
“It’s your painting now,” I said, “along with the money from the property sale that’s still in Alec’s account.”
Dylan glanced at his watch. “I guess so, but I can’t think about that now. I have to get to the office.”
He stood up and held me close. “Thanks for encouraging me to say goodbye to Uncle Alec. I’m glad I got to see him one last time.”
“Now that he’s gone and the murders have been resolved things will settle down. We’ll finally have some peace and quiet.”
Dylan laughed. “We’ll see how that plays out. The excitement never seems to die down when you’re involved.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dylan had just closed the door to my office when the jingle of my cell phone informed me that I had a caller.
“Carrie, thank God! Are you all right?” It was Jim, my father, sounding unusually agitated.
“Of course. I’m fine.”
“What a relief.” He had to take a few deep breaths before he could continue. “I saw a clip of your local TV reporter. She said the two of you caught a killer and stopped him from murdering someone else.”
I groaned. “That was Julie Theron. The story appeared on TV in Atlanta?”
“Caro, honey, it must be on every station along the East Coast. What made you do something so dangerous? She said the man had a gun. You could have gotten killed.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Trust Julie to hype the situation and make it sound riskier than it was. She became obsessed with finding out who killed Dylan’s uncle. She maligned John Mathers on TV for not finding the killer fast enough and announced that she wanted to team up with me to solve the case. I agreed, partly to stop her from mentioning me on TV. And since I was doing my own investigating, I figured why not make use of her resources. Last night we followed a tip she’d gotten and ended up witnessing an attempted murder. Julie tackled the guy and stopped it from happening. I only added my bit when he started to get up. Then I called John.”
“So it’s all over and done with?” Jim asked.
“As far as I’m concerned. John still has to take my statement, and I might have to testify when the case comes to trial, but that won’t be for a good long time.”
“I wish you wouldn’t get involved in every local homicide. One of these days you won’t be so lucky.”
Who are you and what have you done with my father? “I don’t plan it that way, Dad. It just … happens.”
“I know. I don’t mean to come on like a … helicopter father.”
We both laughed. My father’s earlier career as a thief had kept him away from home a good part of my growing-up years.
“Given any thought to what we talked about last time?”
What did we talk about? I suddenly remembered. The wedding. “Nope. Haven’t had the chance.”
“Don’t let it go too long, Caro. I want to have grandkids while I’m young enough to play with them.”
“Jim!” I exclaimed. This was so out of character. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. Sorry.”
A shiver of fear ran down my spine. “Did you get a bad medical report you’re not telling me about?”
“No. Of course not.”
“You’re telling me the truth?”
“I’m fine, Caro. Really. It’s just that Merry’s daughter came to spend a few days with us. She brought little Francie, of course. Such an adorable child. It got me thinking.”
Someone started thumping on my door.
“Just a minute!” I called out. “Listen, Dad, I have to go. We’ll talk soon.”
I disconnected as Julie sailed into my office. She closed the door behind me, but not before I caught sight of a TV crew carrying cameras and other equipment.
