Murder Between the Pages, page 5
“True. But I can’t accept that anyone I know, personally, would resort to murder.” Nina shuddered.
Zelma stopped pacing and turned to give Nina a solemn nod. “Believe it, Nina. A sneaky little murderer lurks inside all of us. Fortunately, most of us keep the little devil under control by finding acceptable outlets for our anger.”
Nina widened her eyes. “Zelma, I never knew you were such a cynic. But when will I have time to track down a murderer? I have a job, you know.”
“I know.” Zelma sighed and paced another few steps. “Just an idea. A bad one, I guess.” She stopped and slanted Nina a glance.
“Okay.” Nina closed her eyes and heaved a resigned sigh. “I admit the idea is appealing. Her murder is a puzzle, and I like puzzles.”
Zelma smiled and nodded. “And you have such a logical, well-organized mind. Not like me, whose brain runs in all directions. I’d really appreciate your help. You’re the only one at the party I can really trust and the only one I can turn to.”
Nina chewed her lower lip. Perhaps she could turn up something helpful. “All right, Zelma. But I can’t promise I’ll be successful.”
Zelma whooshed out a breath. “Just knowing you’re tackling the problem makes me feel better. Lots better. Thank you, Nina, for being my good friend.”
Later, on the way home, Nina wondered if she might not regret her decision to help Zelma. What was she getting herself into?
Chapter Five
“Let’s see,” Nina mused, “is that everybody?” She reviewed the list of names she’d written on her pad of yellow lined paper. She could have used her electronic tablet, but sometimes, like now, she preferred pencil and paper.
Sunlight drifted through her kitchen window, reflecting off the hanging copper pots and warming the surface of the oak table where she sat. Today was Wednesday, her day off, and two days after her visit to Zelma. Two days during which she’d done considerable thinking.
Zelma was good at persuasion. At first, she decided she was a fool to let Zelma talk her into looking for Wildeen’s killer. Zelma coerced her in a weak moment. Then Nina had straightened her shoulders and vowed to help her friend.
The main reason for her decision was Wildeen. Whenever she thought of Wildeen’s battered body lying on the floor of the bookstore, outrage filled her. No one had the right to take another person’s life.
She called upon all she’d learned from reading mystery novels and approached the problem as a detective would, which was why she made the list of names. They were her suspects. Since she overheard Wildeen and Zelma plan to meet at Bergman Books after the party, someone else might have, too. Someone who then used the occasion to kill Wildeen and frame Zelma.
She studied the list. Elizabeth Botts and Burgess Botts, the party hosts. Josh Loring, Wildeen’s estranged husband. Patti Hamilton, Josh’s girlfriend. Sondra Wagner, Zelma’s publicist. Morry Snyder, Zelma’s agent. And, finally, Hamlet Green, Wildeen’s employee.
Josh and Patti were the only persons who had an obvious motive. Nina had no idea how the others could be involved, but, wanting more than two suspects, she’d added their names to her list. However, she would begin her investigation with Josh and Patti. She tapped the pencil against her chin, wondering how to determine if either—or both—was guilty. No outright accusations. She’d have to be subtle.
Perhaps she could visit Josh at work. He was a financial advisor and continually attempting to add her to his client list. Despite her polite refusal, she regularly received invitations to his investment seminars. Now was the time to accept. She went to the kitchen drawer containing miscellaneous advertising brochures and coupons and found the invitation to the latest Loring Investments Seminar. The meeting was this coming Thursday at seven p.m. and an evening she had free. She phoned Josh’s office and told his secretary she would attend.
Now, how about Patti? Another item in her junk mail drawer could provide an excuse to interview her. Searching, Nina found an advertising insert from an issue of The Richmond Review. The included coupon was for a month’s trial membership to the Evergreen Athletic Club, where Patti was an aerobics instructor. Nina’s idea of exercise was to walk to work or to dig in her patio garden. But, as was her habit, she had saved the advertisement. Now, she was glad she had.
A prospective member could visit the club any day, the ad said, without an appointment. Why not take advantage of the offer today? Upstairs in her bedroom, she packed a canvas bag with a tan T-shirt, a pair of dark brown shorts, brown socks, and white tennis shoes. Those items should do for whatever awaited her at the Evergreen Athletic Club.
She was on her way to the front door when her cell phone rang. The caller was Detective Pete Russell.
“Do you have time today to visit Bottswood with me? I want to see the spot where you overheard the conversation between Zelma and Wildeen.”
“I have time later this afternoon,” Nina replied, surprised and yet pleased he wanted her help.
“How about three o’clock?”
“All right… By the way, did you get the autopsy results?” She might as well use this opportunity to probe for more information.
“Yup. She died from head trauma.”
Trauma to the head. An image of the bloodied, glass horse bookend popped into her mind, and she shivered. “I’m not surprised. But I’m sure Zelma Duke is not responsible.”
“I’m not asking you to make a judgment. I’m only asking you to cooperate with our investigation.”
Nina stiffened. “Of course.”
And, maybe she could learn something from Pete Russell that would aid her own investigation.
****
At the Evergreen Athletic Club, a two-story, yellow cement building near the waterfront, Nina presented her coupon to the young woman behind the reception desk. She wore a green body stocking, a pink tank top, and her nametag said “Helen.”
“Welcome.” Helen smiled and handed Nina a clipboard with a form to fill out.
Nina took a nearby seat, dutifully filled in the required information, and returned the form to Helen.
Helen perused the information and then looked up. “We’ll have someone give you a tour. Then you can try out an activity. Let’s see who’s available.” She turned to her computer screen.
“Could Patti Hamilton give me the tour?” Nina clasped her hands and rested her arms on the counter. “She’s a friend of mine.”
“Patti?” Helen scrolled down the screen. “She could. She’s between aerobics classes right now.” She picked up a microphone and announced over the intercom, “Patti to the front desk.”
While Nina waited, she studied the passing parade of club members. Most of the men and women had near-perfect bodies, which they showed off in tank tops and Spandex. Where were all the overweight, out-of-shape people she expected to find in a health club? Apparently, not at the Evergreen.
A side door opened, and Patti appeared. Like the receptionist, she wore a green body stocking and a pink tank top. A pink headband corralled her long blonde hair. She bounced along as though her athletic shoes were filled with helium. She certainly fit the role of an aerobics instructor. In appearance, anyway.
“What’s up, Helen?” Patti smiled at her co-worker.
“This lady registered for a trial membership and needs a tour.” Helen gestured to Nina.
Patti turned to Nina, and her smile shriveled. “Oh. You’re Nina, right? Wildeen’s friend.”
“Yes, Nina Foster.”
Patti frowned and pointed to the computer screen. “Isn’t Susan available?”
Helen squinted at the screen. “Yes, but she—”
“I asked for you, specifically,” Nina interrupted. “I thought talking about the club membership with someone I know would be an advantage.” Would Patti see through her lame excuse and guess the real reason for her visit?
Patti narrowed her eyes, but then she shrugged. “Oh, all right. I’m here and I’m available, so I’ll give you the tour.” She led Nina down a hallway. “I was shocked to hear about Wildeen. So was Josh. I understand you found her.”
“Yes, I went to the bookstore to get a book she’d bought for me.”
“I hope they find the person who killed her.”
Patti certainly sounded sincere, and Nina wanted to pursue questioning her, but just then they reached the racquetball courts. The air rang with the sounds of racquets hitting balls and balls hitting the walls.
“Do you play racquetball?” Patti gestured to the courts.
“No, I don’t.” Nina watched two grim-faced men battle to control the ball. “But the game looks like…fun.” Actually, beating a carpet would be easier—if she wanted to exercise her arms. But, then, she had never been much for competitive sports.
Catching Patti’s skeptical look, Nina vowed to sound more enthusiastic. When they visited the exercise room, with the various machines, and which in truth looked like a torture chamber, she commented on how a workout here would truly make her feel “renewed.”
Next came aerobics, Pilates, and then spinning. Spinning appeared to be just another name for riding a bicycle, but Nina kept her observation to herself. At the swimming pool, a water polo game was in progress. Sensing they were nearing the end of the tour, Nina decided she’d better get down to business. “I heard about the club from Wildeen,” she said as they left the noisy game behind and entered the hallway. “If I remember correctly, she and Josh joined a couple years ago.”
“They did, but Wildeen rarely used her membership.”
Which provided an opportunity for you and Josh to get acquainted. “I can’t imagine who would kill her.”
Patti stopped and pointed to double doors. “Here’s the gym.” She opened one of the doors and motioned Nina inside. “We have a ladies’ basketball team, if you’re interested.”
“I’ll certainly give the game some thought.” Nina gazed around the court and pictured herself chasing a ball and aiming it at the basket. Okay, basketball might be fun. Maybe.
“This is the end of the tour,” Patti said. “What would you like to do for your free activity?”
Nina looked at her wristwatch. “I suppose I have time for an activity. I have an appointment with Detective Pete Russell this afternoon. He’s investigating Wildeen’s murder, and since I discovered her, he interviewed me. Which made me a bit nervous, because I don’t really have an alibi. I went home alone after the Bottses’ party.” She pressed a forefinger to her cheek. “I wonder if he talked to everyone who was there.”
Patti propped her hands on her hips and glared. “Oh, I get it. You’re fishing to see if I had anything to do with her death. Well, for your information—although my alibi is none of your business—Josh and I were together after the party. We were together all night.”
Patti’s defensive tone put Nina on alert. Was she only intent on proving her innocence? Or was she hiding something? “Okay…but…”
“Wildeen was not a friend of mine, but I wouldn’t kill her. Neither would Josh. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s the most kind and wonderful man I’ve ever known.” Patti’s pink cheeks matched her tank top. “Whenever I think of how she treated him, I get really mad.” She made a fist and swung at the air. “But I wouldn’t kill her. You think I’m stupid?”
Nina took a step back to make sure she avoided Patti’s moving fist. “She refused to give Josh a divorce. And she wanted half of her father-in-law’s estate. Her defiance angered Josh. I saw how furious he was at the Bottses’.”
“She would have eventually granted him a divorce. And he would inherit all the money.”
Nina frowned. “How do you know?”
“Josh’s lawyer says so.” Patti tilted her chin.
Nina couldn’t argue with a lawyer’s opinion, so she tried another tack. “Wildeen was a good friend, and I want to see her killer caught and punished.”
“So, fine. You’ve no right to come here and harass me.”
“I’m not harassing you, Patti.” Nina kept her tone patient. “I want to find out what happened that night.”
“Seems to me investigating a murder is a job for the police. If you weren’t a prospective club member—and I wonder about that—I’d tell you to leave. Now, are you gonna use your free activity, or not?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Better back off. She’d pushed Patti far enough. “I’ll do the free activity.”
“What do you choose, then?”
Nina tapped her chin with her forefinger, considering. Racquetball? Too exerting. Besides, she had no partner. A sauna? Too hot. Swimming? She hadn’t brought a suit. Gazing above, she saw a railing surrounding the gymnasium at the second-story level. “What’s up there?” She pointed.
“A walkway. Once around is a quarter of a mile.”
“Perfect. I’ll walk.”
Patti snorted. “You could walk outside. But suit yourself. You brought your change of clothes, I see.” She nodded at Nina’s canvas bag.
“Yes, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.”
“Okay, you know where the locker room is. Oh, and don’t forget your trial membership includes a free drink and snack in the lounge. If you have time before your meeting with Pete Russell.”
Nina ignored Patti’s smirk. “I hope I do. And, Patti, thanks for the tour.”
“Yeah, sure.” Patti gave a brief nod and stomped off.
Nina returned to the locker room and changed into her shorts and T-shirt. After securing her street clothes in a locker marked “Guest,” she headed upstairs. She encountered no one else on the walkway. Good. The peace and quiet would allow her to think.
So, Patti and Josh were each other’s alibis. How convenient. Patti denied being involved in Wildeen’s murder, but her anger during the party erupted readily enough. Although slender, Patti was strong. Nina had no doubt she could have smashed the rearing horse bookend into Wildeen’s skull hard enough to kill her.
Nina circled the track four times for an even mile. She might have walked another lap or two, but due to her scheduled meeting with Pete Russell, time today was short.
Dressed once again in her street clothes, she crossed the lobby, full of overstuffed furniture and potted plants, and entered the lounge. Dark wood-paneled walls and high-backed, green upholstered booths gave the place a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Behind the bar, a neon sign spelled out “Evergreen,” spreading a greenish glow over liquor bottles and glasses.
She slid into a booth and consulted the drink menu. A green-vested waiter appeared, and Nina ordered an “Orange Wonder,” a concoction of soda, non-fat cream substitute, and orange flavoring. An assortment of cheeses and crackers accompanied the drink. Nina munched the snack, thinking how pleased she was with her first interview. True, she hadn’t found out much, but she succeeded in maneuvering Patti at least to talk about Wildeen’s death. Now, on to her meeting with Pete Russell.
“Well, look who’s here.”
Jolted from her thoughts, she looked up to find Stephen Kraslow leaning against the back of her booth. He wore a light blue, short-sleeved shirt, and navy slacks. A small notebook and pen peeked from the shirt’s breast pocket, reminding her he was a newsman and probably on the prowl for news. Nevertheless, her stomach did a little flip-flop.
“Do you belong to the club?”
His friendly tone indicated he held no grudge for her cool dismissal the last time they’d met.
She shook her head. “I’m here on a trial membership. I used the coupon from your newspaper. I just finished the tour.”
“What do you think of the club so far?
“The facility has a lot to offer. What about you? Are you a member?”
“I am. I belonged to an athletic club in New York. Besides, like I told you the other day, I want to get to know this community.”
The waiter approached. “Can I bring you something?” he asked Stephen.
Stephen hesitated, looking at Nina.
“Do join me,” she felt obliged to say and gestured to the opposite bench.
“Thanks. I will.” Stephen sat and turned to the waiter. “I’ll have coffee. Black.”
After the waiter left, Nina nudged the plate of cheese and crackers in Stephen’s direction. “Help yourself. Part of my tour perks.”
Stephen picked up a cracker and a piece of cheese and ate. “This hits the spot.”
The waiter soon returned with Stephen’s coffee.
Stephen and Nina chatted idly, mostly about the club. More people arrived, and soon talk and laughter filled the room. Classical music from speakers on the ceiling provided a soothing backdrop. For the first time that day, Nina felt relaxed.
During a lull in their conversation, Stephen put down his cup and leaned forward. “So, how are you coping with the loss of your friend?”
Nina fingered her cocktail napkin. “I miss her so much. We talked or texted nearly every day. And sometimes, I’d go to estate and garage sales with her to look for books.”
He nodded. “A tough adjustment for you.”
“Her memorial service is on Friday. Seeing her family will be difficult.” Reminded of his visit to the library, she added in an accusing tone, “Did you call her parents? I saw Larry help you find their address from the computer directory when you were at the library the other day.”
He straightened and raised his eyebrows. “You certainly jump to conclusions. Larry did not help me locate Wildeen’s parents. I didn’t ask him, and besides, I could do that on my own. He showed me a glitch he found in our online edition of The Review. He has a sharp eye, and I appreciated his pointing out our error.”
Nina pressed fingers to her lips. “Oh. I thought… I’m, uh, glad Larry was helpful.”
“See? I’m not as callous as you think. Did you read the article I wrote about Wildeen?”
“I did.” The article appeared in the latest edition of The Review. The piece was well written, too, she had to admit, with crisp prose and an objective and unbiased viewpoint.
“Did you find anything there to indicate I talked to her parents?”
