The Fool Dies Last, page 14
‘That’s not likely,’ she argued. ‘After what he did to me, Gary couldn’t honestly think I would just forgive and forget.’
Dylan responded with a sardonic smile. ‘Vanity will make men – and women – believe all sorts of things.’
‘Gary has never been known for his humility,’ Summer admitted. She chuckled ruefully. ‘Instead of the Fool, someone should have given him a card depicting vanity.’
‘Is there a Tarot card for vanity?’ Dylan asked.
‘I don’t know, but I assume there must be. Vanity is a part of pride, and pride is one of the seven deadly sins, after all.’
They turned expectantly toward Hope, awaiting a definitive answer. They didn’t get one. Hope was frowning at a shriveled orange in the fruit bowl.
‘Hello?’ Summer nudged her with her elbow to get her attention. ‘Hope?’
She glanced up from the bowl. ‘Huh?’
‘Have you heard a word we’ve said?’
‘Sorry. I was just … I was just thinking …’ Hope paused absently.
‘About Gary?’ Summer prompted her.
‘No.’ She frowned again. ‘I wasn’t thinking about him. I was thinking about something you said earlier, before all the panic about Gary. You said the murderer believes that Marilyn and Roberta were foolish somehow.’
Summer nodded. ‘And that I’m foolish, too – or Gary is – or whoever the card was intended for.’
‘Ignoring you and Gary for the moment, my question is: how? How exactly were Marilyn and Roberta foolish?’
‘I don’t know. Does it matter?’
‘Well, yes,’ Hope said. ‘It goes to possible motive. If we can figure out what Marilyn and Roberta did that was supposedly foolish, it could tell us – or at least give us a hint – who would have wanted to kill them.’
‘That’s a great idea!’ Summer exclaimed, now nodding vigorously. ‘And then we might also have a better idea what the third card means.’
Hope nodded back at her.
Dylan didn’t share their enthusiasm. ‘Don’t get too excited yet. It’s a nice theory, but you’re making one really big assumption that could turn out to be wrong.’
‘How so?’ Hope asked him.
‘You’re assuming that there was some specific incident of foolishness on the part of Marilyn and Roberta. Instead, it could have been their general folly or foolhardiness that the murderer objected to.’
‘Nonsense,’ Summer retorted. ‘People don’t kill other people just because they think they’re a bit silly or stupid. Everybody is silly or stupid sometimes, and we’re not all going around murdering each other because of it.’
‘Dylan is correct,’ Nate said, having concluded his latest phone call and joining the conversation. ‘At this point, we can’t be sure whether it was a specific or general antipathy that motivated the killings.’
‘General antipathy resulting in two murders? I don’t buy it,’ Summer scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. ‘It isn’t rational.’
‘Trust me,’ Nate replied, ‘criminals – and murderers in particular – aren’t always the most rational.’
Although Summer couldn’t dispute his professional expertise, her arms remained folded, indicating that she wasn’t persuaded. Hope wasn’t persuaded, either. She responded with greater diplomacy, however.
‘I have no doubt that you’re right,’ she said to Nate. ‘You have much more knowledge on the subject than we do. But I don’t think that there can be any harm in us trying to find out if there was a foolish episode in Marilyn and Roberta’s pasts that could have angered or upset someone to an extreme degree. Anything we learn could help us more clearly understand the third card.’
‘Certainly, it could help,’ Nate agreed. ‘But how do you propose to find out something like that? Foolish episodes tend to fade with the passage of time. I thought you didn’t know either of the victims very well.’
‘I didn’t know them very well,’ Hope acknowledged. ‘Neither did Summer. But we do know someone who can remember nearly every foible ever committed in her vast circle of acquaintances.’
Summer started nodding vigorously once more as she realized who her sister was talking about. ‘If anybody knows, it will be her!’
Nate looked between them in confusion. ‘Who?’
‘Gram,’ they answered in unison.
The drive to the hotel bore little resemblance to the one earlier that morning to Summer’s house. For starters, instead of nursing a hangover and sleeping in the back seat of Dylan’s car, Summer was alert and animated, so much so that she talked in a steady stream of questions the entire way. They mostly revolved around Gary. Would he be at Amethyst? Was it safe for him to remain there? Could they rely on the police to protect him? If a warning from her might be misinterpreted as an attempt at reconciliation – as Dylan had suggested – perhaps Hope should warn him instead? Or maybe Megan could do it?
Summer didn’t wait for answers. She just continued with her rambling train of thought. Hope commented only once, reminding her sister that Megan didn’t work on Sundays. Otherwise, she was happy not to interrupt the ceaseless chatter. Now that the immediate alarm at the appearance of the third Fool had passed, Dylan could return to the subject of February and all that Rosemarie had told him on Summer’s driveway. Hope knew that he wanted to talk about it. She could see it in the pitying way that he kept looking at her, as if she were a pathetic puppy that had gotten caught in a cold rain and was standing outside, shivering and bedraggled. It irritated her. She didn’t need Dylan’s pity. She wasn’t whimpering at him to open the door. On the contrary, she preferred for the door to remain firmly shut.
To Hope’s relief, Dylan found no opportunity to broach the subject. Summer was simply too loquacious with her ever-expanding list of worries. It wasn’t until she began fretting that the police might accuse her of being the murderer if Gary became the next victim that Dylan finally interjected – by laughing.
‘I don’t know about murder, but no one can ever accuse you of not having an active imagination,’ he chortled.
‘It’s not my imagination,’ Summer rejoined indignantly. ‘It’s a legitimate concern. When something happens to a husband, the police always look at the wife first.’
‘That may be true, but I highly doubt Detective Phillips is going to arrest you.’
‘He very well could,’ she countered. ‘If Gary were murdered, it might be viewed as an act of revenge. My husband cheated on me, so I decided to kill him. The police could allege that I copied the previous two murders to make Gary’s look like it was perpetrated by the same person. They could even contend that I put the Tarot card through my own mail slot in an attempt to throw off suspicion.’
Dylan laughed harder. ‘And I would contend that you’ve been watching too many crime dramas.’
‘I watch hardly any crime dramas,’ Summer snapped.
‘While we’re on the subject of law enforcement,’ Dylan continued in amusement, ‘you may want to consider talking a little less about your husband when you’re in the company of the detective.’
‘So you do think that he would suspect me if something happened to Gary!’
‘No, I think that you would have a better chance of Nate asking you on a date if he didn’t have to hear about your husband all the time.’
That made Hope laugh. ‘He has a point,’ she told her sister.
For the first time since they had left her house, Summer paused to consider. ‘You think that Nate might ask me on a date?’
‘Well, a date might be a bit premature,’ Hope conceded, ‘especially since we don’t know much about his personal situation, but it has been pretty obvious to me – and Megan – and Dylan also, apparently – that Nate is attracted to you.’
Summer blushed. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
There was another pause as Summer leaned back in her seat, her cheeks pink and looking rather pleased.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ Dylan said to Hope after a minute. ‘We’re almost at the hotel, but I can take you to the boutique instead.’
She checked her watch. ‘No, let’s stick with the hotel. We’re cutting it close time-wise, but Gram and Morris usually linger over brunch. Amethyst has an excellent Sunday brunch. Have you tried it?’
He brushed the question aside. ‘If you want to talk to Olivia, you should do it somewhere less public. My concern is the same as it was before, and Nate agrees with me. You shouldn’t go to the hotel. It’s too exposed.’
‘But I’m at the hotel all the time for client appointments and to see Megan. It isn’t new or unusual for me to be there.’
Dylan shot her an impatient look. ‘You’re not taking this seriously enough. That third card means something, and you’re gambling that it’s connected to Gary rather than you and your sister.’
Hope frowned. ‘I’m taking this plenty seriously. It’s why I’m going to talk to Gram about Marilyn and Roberta. In my opinion, you’re being paranoid.’
‘And in my opinion,’ he replied, pulling the car into Amethyst’s cobblestone drive, ‘you’re being just as foolish as the Tarot card predicted.’
A tetchy response bubbled on Hope’s tongue, but Summer – who had been too busy with her own deliberations to pay attention to theirs – spoke before she could.
‘I’ve thought about it,’ Summer said, opening the door of the car when it had come to a stop in front of the hotel, ‘and you’re right. There’s no sense in running after Gary. The police will warn him. He’ll probably listen to them better anyway.’
‘A wise decision,’ Dylan commended her. He added under his breath, ‘At least one of you takes my advice.’
Hope glared at him. Following her sister, she opened the car door to climb out. Just as she was about to step on to the cobblestone, Dylan reached over and grabbed her arm.
‘Wait.’
She turned back with annoyance. ‘What?’
His grip remained firm, but his voice softened. ‘Don’t go in there, Hope. Don’t be so reckless as to risk another murder.’
Her annoyance faded with the warmth of his tone. ‘I appreciate your concern, but there’s really no need to worry. I’ll be cautious.’ She offered a conciliatory smile. ‘I’m pretty good at taking care of myself.’
Dylan didn’t return the smile. ‘Are you sure of that? Because from what I’ve heard, you’re not so good at taking care of others. Haven’t you had enough death?’
Hope looked at him hard. There was no longer any pity in his gaze. There was no warmth or concern, either. Dylan’s expression was cold and contemptuous, making his meaning amply clear. He wasn’t talking about Marilyn and Roberta, or even Summer and Gram. He was talking about February.
The blood drained from Hope’s face. It was replaced by wrath. She yanked her arm free, jumped out of the car, and slammed the door behind her.
‘Hope—’ Dylan began through the open window.
Whatever he had to say, she didn’t listen.
FIFTEEN
Megan met them just inside Amethyst’s sparkling glass entrance, grinning waggishly. ‘Was that Dylan I saw dropping you off? On a Sunday morning, no less. Getting kind of cozy, eh?’
Still fuming, Hope bristled at the inference. ‘There is nothing cozy about Dylan Henshaw.’
‘He is somewhat aloof,’ Megan agreed. ‘But that could be considered advantageous.’
‘In what way?’
She winked. ‘Icy men make fiery lovers.’
‘That’s great,’ Hope replied dryly, ‘if you enjoy hypothermia followed by third-degree burns.’
Megan burst out laughing.
Summer, who had been glancing around the hotel lobby apprehensively, gave a sigh of relief. ‘Good news. There’s no sign of Gary.’ She glanced around again. ‘What happened to Dylan? Is he parking the car?’
‘He left,’ Hope told her, and before Summer could ask why, she turned back to Megan. ‘So what brings you here today? I thought you didn’t work on Sundays.’
‘I’m not scheduled to work on Sundays,’ Megan said, ‘but evidently that doesn’t apply when wedding planners are involved.’
Hope groaned. ‘A bridezilla?’
‘Yup. Not aggressive, but inanely indecisive. The woman can’t make up her mind about anything. The flowers, the color scheme, even the candles. First roses, then lilies, now tulips. Blossom pink, then carriage green, now spring coral—’
‘What is spring coral?’ Summer asked.
‘An extremely unflattering shade of orange. Imagine cantaloupe mixed with tomato.’
‘Blech.’ Summer wrinkled her nose. ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea. If the bride has such bad taste, maybe she’d like some Beach Breeze candles. Hope and I have a whole box available at the boutique. We’d sell ’em to her cheap.’
Hope chuckled. ‘I doubt that we’ll be able to convince even the tackiest bride that rotting fish is the newest trend in scented candles.’
‘That’s probably true,’ Summer conceded. ‘If I get married again, forget the big wedding and fancy reception. I’m going to have the good sense to elope.’
‘That’s jumping ahead a bit, isn’t it?’ her sister responded teasingly. ‘The divorce issue aside, Nate hasn’t even asked you out yet.’
The hue of Summer’s face was remarkably close to spring coral.
Megan’s waggish grin resurfaced. ‘Goodbye, shifty Gary. Hello, Detective Phillips!’
‘Any interest the detective might have in me,’ Summer said in a plaintive tone, ‘will vanish the instant he discovers my fingerprints on the Tarot card.’
Hope rolled her eyes. ‘You’re beginning to sound just as paranoid as Dylan. Why do you keep assuming the police are going to accuse you of something? Did you kill Marilyn and Roberta?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Then don’t fret about the fingerprints. Nate knows that you and I both touched the third Fool before we realized what the card might mean and that it could be evidence. He expects the lab to find our prints on it. He’s hoping that the murderer’s prints will be there, too, although he said it’s unlikely considering that the first two Fools were completely clean, without so much as a smudge.’
‘Hold on. There’s been a third Fool?’ Megan asked in confusion. ‘Does that mean there’s also been a third murder?’
‘Not that we’re aware of, thankfully,’ Hope told her. ‘But Summer found a Tarot card with the mail at her house this morning, so she’s worried that Gary might be the next intended target.’
Megan shrugged with indifference. ‘It’s nothing more than he deserves.’
‘Megan!’ Summer protested.
She shrugged again. ‘I’m sorry if it seems callous, but after how that man has behaved, I wouldn’t care if a piano fell on his head.’
‘Oh, but, Megan—’
As Summer’s voice rose in remonstrance, several people in the lobby turned to look at them. For the first time since they had entered the hotel, Hope noticed how busy the place was, how many guests and visitors and employees were bustling about the purple sofas and black marble tables, and it occurred to her – much to her chagrin – that maybe Dylan wasn’t being paranoid, after all. On the contrary, maybe he was correct. Not about her being reckless by going to the hotel, but about how public and exposed it was, especially in the lobby. Anyone could see them. They had been speaking quietly for the most part; even so, if somebody was trying to listen in, it wouldn’t be difficult to catch snippets of their conversation.
‘We shouldn’t discuss this here,’ Hope said, interrupting her sister. ‘It’s too open. We don’t know who might be watching.’
‘At Amethyst,’ Megan replied, with a significant look, ‘you can be assured that someone is always watching.’
Hope nodded. ‘We’re here to find Gram. She and Morris came for brunch. Have you seen them?’
‘Yes, when they first came in, but that was a while ago. They’re probably gone by now. You might get lucky, though, if they lingered over coffee.’
Megan led the way toward the restaurant. Unlike the lobby with its cold, gleaming design, the hotel’s main dining room was decorated in a warm, muted Mediterranean style, with wooden beams and yellow stucco walls that were accented by colorful ceramic tiles. As Hope had expected, they found that brunch was nearly concluded. The hostess stand was unoccupied, as were almost all of the dining tables. The kitchen staff had begun to clear the various serving stations.
‘It smells so good,’ Summer said, gazing longingly at the stainless-steel trays and platters that were being carried away, many still full of food. ‘I’m famished.’
‘That’s the one benefit of being forced to work on a Sunday,’ Megan told her, also eyeing the trays with interest. ‘There are always piles of leftovers from brunch. But we better hurry, because the good stuff moves fast once it hits the back room.’
Summer spun toward Hope. ‘We can talk to Gram later. Let’s eat now!’
Hope hesitated. ‘What about bridezilla?’ she asked Megan.
‘Bridezilla has an entourage with her. She won’t even notice that I’m gone. And when I reappear, I’ll bring one of the remnant dessert trays with me. Then instead of flowers and color schemes, she can struggle to decide between a cheesecake bite and a brownie bite.’
‘Yum, cheesecake.’ Summer rubbed her hands together excitedly. ‘Come on. No dawdling. We don’t want to miss out.’
With her sister practically drooling on the restaurant floor at the prospect of her favorite dessert, Hope was about to agree – until she saw Morris. He was sitting alone at a table on the opposite side of the dining room, along a sunny wall of windows. As Megan had conjectured, he was lingering over a cup of coffee.
‘There’s Morris,’ Hope said, pointing at him. ‘But I don’t see Gram …’
Summer made a dejected little noise, like a deflating helium balloon.
Hope laughed. ‘Go, eat, enjoy. I’ll check on Morris and find out where Gram is.’
