Checked Out for Murder, page 8
I ambled over to the phones, pretending to be engrossed in studying the difference between two choices. From their conversation, I gathered that Lester had successfully solved the young woman’s problem with her phone’s camera. He was about to call out for the next person waiting for tech support when I tapped his arm.
“I don’t mean to jump the line,” I said in my most polite voice, “but does this phone—or any of these phones—have an alarm? If someone should break in and attack you …”
“I don’t think any of them do,” Lester said. “But if you’re looking for an alarm, they sell them on Amazon.”
I pressed my hand to my chest. “Of course! How silly of me! I’m just so upset. I just heard about that woman being murdered. Strangled in her own apartment.” I shuddered. “It’s so close to where I live.”
He pursed his lips. “I just heard. Bad business, that. But no need to panic. Just don’t open your door to strangers.”
“I can’t help but worry since this happened at the Baxter Garden Apartments. I live only a few blocks away. Alone. Except for my bird.”
“I see.” Lester’s dark-brown eyes studied me—at first with curiosity and then with amusement. And suddenly he was laughing.
“Hey, aren’t you that librarian—the one with the library cat who’s always getting involved in crime investigations?”
I felt my face growing warm. “Maybe I am. Carrie Singleton. And you’re Lester Brown.”
He nodded. “I am. I suppose you’re here to find out what I know about the murder, since the woman was found a block from my apartment.”
“Her name was Daphne Marriott. You might have known her as Daphne Harper.”
Lester’s mouth fell open. “Chet and Pattie’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea—you said she was living at the Baxter Apartments.”
“Yes.”
He was gazing off into space. “Funny. I thought I saw her once—in the supermarket a week or two ago. She grew up to look exactly like her mother.”
Unless Lester had done a stint at the Actors Studio or the Yale School of Drama, his shocked expression struck me as genuine. It was time to learn what I could. “Did you have an affair with Daphne’s mother?”
Lester’s eyes lit up, and I caught a glimpse of the sexy, virile man he had been in his younger days. “I did not, as I told her husband repeatedly. Had to give him a licking before he’d believe me. Poor Pattie. She had a miserable life with that SOB.”
“Do you know who killed Chet Harper?”
“I have no idea. I felt sorry for their son, Billy. The cops pinned it on him, but I never thought he did it.” Lester sighed. “Why? Do you think Daphne’s murder has something to do with her father’s stabbing twenty years ago?”
I sighed. “I wish I knew.”
Chapter Ten
Dylan called me on my cell as Angela and I were driving back to the library. “I’ve been tied up all morning and just found out that your friend Daphne was murdered. I’m so sorry, babe.”
I sighed. “Me too. John stopped by earlier to find out what I knew about Daphne.” I glanced at Angela. She was checking her phone for texts, but I had to be careful what I said. Angela was my best friend, but I’d never told her about my relationship with Evelyn. If and when I did, it wouldn’t be in a car. I’d told Dylan about my friendship with a ghost when we were driving home from a restaurant and he’d nearly crashed into some bushes.
“Someone in the library told me her story—that her abusive souse of a father was knifed to death twenty years ago.”
“I remember that!” Dylan said. “Her brother was charged and convicted of the crime.”
“And was exonerated. Daphne said she was drawn to Clover Ridge but never told me why. I think it was connected to her father’s murder.”
“Tell me you’re not starting to investigate,” Dylan said.
Angela must have heard him because she burst into giggles.
“Well, I happened to run into someone who got into a fight with Daphne’s father shortly before he was murdered.”
“Carrie!” Astonishing how Dylan managed to sound angry, exasperated, and frightened simply by saying my name.
“Please don’t worry. After talking to Lester Brown, I got the definite sense that he had nothing to do with Daphne’s murder—or her father’s. Though it is a coincidence that he lives in the same apartment complex as Daphne.”
“Damn it, Carrie—you can’t rely on your ‘definite sense’ to decide if someone’s a murderer. Criminals lie. They deceive. Tell John about this Lester fellow—that he lives where Daphne was renting and about the fight he had with Daphne’s father. It’s his job to interview everyone connected to Chet and Daphne Harper.”
“I already told John about Lester, thank you very much. I’m sure he’ll interview him. And you don’t need to worry about me. I just went to the Verizon store where he works. I had Angela with me.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
I decided that was a rhetorical question and didn’t bother to answer. “Don’t forget I’m making dinner tonight. What time do you expect to be home?”
“Six thirty at the latest. I’ll call if I’m running late.”
I disconnected, unhappy that I’d caused Dylan grief.
“You shouldn’t have told him where we went,” Angela said.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to keep secrets from Dylan. It’s like lying and only serves to put distance between us. I’d rather he got angry at me.”
Angela chortled. “You’ll find out soon enough that some things are better off not shared. I have a list of things I don’t tell Steve if I don’t want him to blow a fuse. You have to use your judgment when it comes to sharing.”
Back at the library, I answered some emails and a few phone calls. Trish headed downstairs to set up the movie for the afternoon, and I walked over to the hospitality desk to put in an hour of signing people up for programs and answering their questions. I missed Smoky Joe—seeing him scampering around the library, pausing to visit with patrons. This was one of the very few days I hadn’t brought him to work.
I called my mother to find out how she was feeling, but she never answered. Either she was sleeping or she’d gone out for a walk. I felt bad that the experience of coming to Clover Ridge so she could be with Tom while he was shooting a film had blown up in her face. Ilana’s behavior was awful, but even worse was that Tom had done nothing to support my mother. For the first time that I could remember, I felt protective toward her. I didn’t like seeing her hurt.
Though my mother and I hadn’t been in touch on a regular basis for years, I’d gathered from what she’d told me that her marriage to Tom had been a happy one until now. When had this change in their relationship come about? Was it permanent, or just a phase because he was finally appearing in a movie with well-known actors?
I’d no sooner returned to my office than the phone started to ring.
“Carrie Singleton, programs and events.”
“Hello, Carrie. This is Robby Dowd—from Parson’s Gym. I need to talk to you as soon as possible.”
“Robby, hi.” I knew I sounded as puzzled as I felt. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t explain on the phone. I hate to bother you at work, but—it’s really important. A matter of life or death. Death, actually.” His voice caught on a sob.
“Robby—”
“I could get to the library by five thirty.”
“I’ll be gone by then.”
“Dammit, I wasted hours down at the station, and now I’m tied up at the gym until five—if I want to keep my job. Please, Carrie. I have to talk to you ASAP. I swear I’ll explain everything, but it’s complicated and not something I want to discuss over the phone.”
I thought quickly. “The gym is only a short distance from my cottage. Why don’t I meet you there? Say five twenty if the traffic’s not too bad. Is there someplace we could talk privately?”
“Yes! My boss Greg’s office. He won’t mind.”
“I can only spare half an hour, Robby. Dylan’s been out of the country and he just got home last night. Unless you want to tell me now—?”
“Thanks, Carrie. See ya later.”
He hung up before I could ask another question.
For the next few hours I carried out my library responsibilities, often wondering what could be troubling Robby. Was the station he was referring to the police station? Of course. What else could he have meant? I suddenly remembered sensing he wanted to discuss something with me a few weeks ago.
Evelyn popped in, and I told her about Robby’s strange phone call.
“He sounds like he wants you to help with an investigation.”
“What investigation?” I asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” She disappeared just as Susan opened the door to my office.
Then Dylan called to tell me that a new client had stopped by and now he expected to be home closer to seven o’clock. “I’ll call if I’m further delayed.”
“That’s fine,” I said. I considered telling him I’d arranged to meet Robby but decided I didn’t want to upset him. I’d tell him afterward over drinks.
“How was watching them film this morning?” he asked.
I laughed. “I feel as though that happened days ago. Tom’s former fiancée—the actress he ends up with in the movie—kept coming on to him in real time. My mother got upset and said a few things she shouldn’t have. Tom was hopeless. He did nothing to stop Ilana from acting like a bitch in heat. I drove my mother back to their rented house. When I called later, she didn’t answer the phone.”
“It sounds like they’re having serious problems. Babe, don’t get involved. There’s nothing you can do.”
“I know. It’s frustrating, wishing I could help.”
Dylan chuckled. “I can imagine. You love to get in the middle of situations and make them right.”
“I guess. I should know by now that the world doesn’t work that way.”
I left the library at five sharp, eager to hear what Robby wanted to tell me. I couldn’t imagine what he thought I could do. Solve some secret problem he had? He knew Dylan was an investigator. Maybe he’d been robbed of something valuable and wanted to ask my opinion before hiring Dylan to retrieve whatever had gone missing.
The gym was full of people. Robby was engrossed in conversation. I waved to him, and a minute later he came over. He put his hands on my arms and met my gaze.
“Carrie, I owe you big-time for this.”
“I’ll take a few private sessions in payment,” I said as a joke.
“You got ’em.” He directed me down the hall to the offices. “Greg’s gone for the day. He said I could use his office.”
Instead of taking the large chair behind the desk, Robby sank into one of the two visitors’ chairs and covered his face with his hands.
I turned the other chair so I’d be facing him and sat down. “All right. What’s this all about?”
He remained silent for a minute or two. When he looked up, tears were streaming down his cheeks. “My sister is dead. Murdered.”
I blinked, trying to take in what he was telling me. “Daphne was your sister.”
He nodded.
“Then you’re Billy. You went to prison for killing your father.”
“How do you know? Did Daphne tell you?”
“No, someone recognized her when she came to the library and told me about your family. But I had no idea that you—”
“Did you know she helped put me away? I was furious with her at the time. Refused to talk to her during the trial or later when she came to visit me in prison, until it dawned on me that Flynn, that SOB, had manipulated Daphne—worked on her until she all but admitted to seeing me knife the old man. Eventually I made it my business to get a lawyer to look into my conviction—a good lawyer this time.”
“And you changed your name.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “Of course! Who wants to hire an ex-con, even after he’s been proven innocent? I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, I didn’t have the stomach to put up with the stares, the question in people’s eyes when they heard the name Billy Harper.
“I changed my name legally. Dowd is my mother’s maiden name. But when the police came by today wanting to talk to me, I told Greg who I really am.”
“I’m curious,” I said. “If you don’t want anyone to know your history, why did you come back to this area?”
Robby snorted. “Good question. I was drawn back, but if you notice, I chose not to live or work in Clover Ridge. Just close enough to look around—”
“Like you did on Saturday.”
He nodded. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but—” His expression grew stronger, more resolved. “Carrie, I didn’t kill my father, but someone did. Though twenty years have passed, I keep hoping I’ll learn something that will tell me who murdered him. I have to know, even if that person has died.”
“Daphne said she was drawn to Clover Ridge too. I think it was for the same reason.” I held his gaze. “And possibly because she sensed you were here and needed to ask your forgiveness.”
“She told you that?” Robby asked.
“Not in so many words, because like you, she didn’t reveal her true identity. But tell me, why were you brought down to the police station?”
Robby frowned. “That’s easy enough. The police went through Daphne’s things and found my phone number.”
“Did they think you killed her?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I have no alibi for the time she was murdered, but they don’t have any evidence that I’d ever been to her apartment, so they couldn’t hold me.”
“When did you find out that Daphne was living in the area?” I asked.
Robby leaned back and stretched out his legs. He seemed calmer now that he was telling me his story. Amazing how sometimes just talking helped to reduce stress.
“She came to the gym to sign up for a month-to-month membership. At the time, I was working with one of my clients. We caught sight of each other, and—” He gave a little laugh. “We each got the shock of our lives. We arranged to have dinner that evening when I finished work and ended up talking for hours.”
I nodded. “I’m glad the two of you got to reconnect before she died.”
“Before someone murdered her, you mean.” His voice grew hard. “That’s why I called you, Carrie. I want you to find the person who killed my sister.”
Chapter Eleven
I stared at Robby. “I’m not a detective, Robby. Lieutenant Mathers is very good at his job. He’s also a good friend of mine. You can count on him to do everything in his power to find the person who killed Daphne.”
“Right. Yeah. Excuse me if I don’t have the faith you do in the Clover Ridge Police Department. The last guy railroaded me straight to prison.”
“John Mathers is nothing like his predecessor!”
“Maybe. I sure hope that’s the case, but I’ve read about you, Carrie Singleton. You’ve solved a few murders in the area. And you knew my sister.”
“I did, and I’m so sorry about what happened to her. I think in time we would have become good friends.”
“More reason to find the person who killed her.”
I exhaled loudly. “Dylan and John Mathers have told me in no uncertain terms not to investigate her murder.”
Robby laughed. “And you plan to listen to them?”
“They’re concerned about my welfare,” I said, hating how prissy it sounded.
Robby reached over to rest his hand on my shoulder. “Carrie, I don’t want you to do anything reckless, but you have way of finding out things.”
I nodded. “I confess I want to help find the person who murdered Daphne. The most likely suspect is her ex-husband. Did she tell you about him?”
“Daphne said he showed up at her library talk—scared her half to death. And he hassled her at that event on the Green.” Robby grimaced. “Her ex is one lucky SOB. If I’d caught him with his hands on my sister, he would have ended up in the hospital with a few broken bones.”
“I was there and ran to get Lieutenant Mathers. He ordered Bert Lutz to leave town.” I shrugged. “I’ve no idea where he is now. I know John—Lieutenant Mathers— wants to question him.”
“Any more ideas?” Robby asked.
I snorted. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I looked up old newspaper articles from around the time of your father’s murder and saw there was an article about a fight he’d had with a man named Lester Brown.”
Robby nodded. “I remember him. They were friendly for a while until my father got it into his head that Les was interested in my mother.”
“Do you think he was?”
“I doubt it. Les Brown was a big flirt. And I certainly didn’t get the sense that my mother cared at all about him.”
“What was your mother like around the time of the murder?”
Robby tilted his head to one side as he thought. “She was busy working most of the time. But I remember thinking how weird she was acting—happy one minute and singing a song, then suddenly turning anxious. Frightened.”
“Do you think she was seeing anyone?”
Robby shot me a disapproving glance. “That’s a funny thing to ask.”
“I suppose it’s difficult to imagine your mother having an affair, even though your father was abusive.”
“Sorry. I have no business censoring your questions. The answer is, I have no idea. Part of me is shocked to think of my mother committing adultery. Part of me wishes she’d had a bit of happiness during those dark years.”
He pressed his lips together as he thought. “I never saw any signs of her having a lover, but Daphne told me that a few times she’d passed a man leaving our apartment complex when she was coming home from school. She had a feeling he’d been seeing our mother.” He scoffed. “Of course, the man could have been seeing another woman who lived in our building. But I remember a few times when the phone rang, Mom rushed to answer it. She had the strangest expression on her face when she hung up.”
