Murder on Cape Cod Page 18

  “Didn’t Zane put something about her in the text?” I nodded, dug my phone out of my bag, and swiped through the message, which was getting longer every few hours, it seemed. I shook my head. “No, I guess not. I don’t see anything new. The timing could be purely coincidental, of course.” We headed back down the trail. I picked up the pace and swung my bent arms to get my heart rate back into cardio range. “I doubt it’s related to the murder, but didn’t you think Edwin’s reaction to my question last night was overblown?”

  “Of course I do. What’s the harm in asking if you know somebody?”

  “It’s been bugging me since I saw the lookalike. Neither he nor Edwin wanted to talk. It makes me really wonder about their past, if in fact they’re related.”

  “What if they’ve been estranged for a decade?” Gin asked. “Edwin hears his brother is back and he’s not sure how to deal with it. Or maybe he has an idea of where his brother is staying and couldn’t wait to go and see him.”

  “Or maybe it is related to Jake’s death.” What if Jake, Derrick, and Edwin’s brother had all been in prison together? What if the brother had come back, killed Jake for some wrong in their past, and decided to look up Edwin now that he was here in town? I opened my mouth . . . and shut it in the nick of time. I couldn’t mention that I knew Jake had been in prison with Derrick. That would break Derrick’s confidence. I had to keep remembering it was his story to tell.

  “How?” Gin asked.

  “Hmm.” I didn’t have to go into anything about Derrick, or knowing that Jake had been incarcerated. “Stranger comes to town. Has a past with Jake. Finds him, stabs him.” I scrunched my nose and glanced at her. “It’s plausible, right?”

  “I guess. Sounds kind of like fiction to me.”

  She was right.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I hung out the OPEN flag at ten before nine. I’d had to scurry to get ready in time, but Edwin was due any minute. If he showed, that is. His abrupt departure from the bakery last night had almost exactly mimicked that of the man who looked like him. I wouldn’t bet money on Edwin explaining why he left like that and who the guy was, but I hoped he would.

  I’d carefully stashed a big envelope holding the bag with the note in my desk drawer when I first came in, and I’d locked the desk. The desk key now kept company with the rest of my keys on a ring clipped onto a belt loop of my shorts. I’d also included Cokey’s drawing in the envelope, with a note explaining what it portrayed and said I’d explain what it could mean. I wanted the detective to follow up on Katherine Deloit, and this was the first real clue I’d run across that she might have been up to something worse than bad.

  By nine thirty, I had five repair customers growing impatient and eleven point five rental prospectives (the point five being a toddler needing a trailer) itching to get out into this fine sunny Cape day. I didn’t blame them, but I was still alone in the shop. And ready to scream. This was not part of my business plan. From the corner of my eye I saw someone hurry in the door and make for the repair side. The person definitely didn’t fit Edwin’s profile.

  I excused myself to the waiting rentals and made it around the other side, where I saw Orlean stashing her lunch in the fridge and throwing on a repair apron. Glory be to whatever kind spirit moved my employee get her rear end in here.

  “Glad you could . . .” I stopped myself before I said something rude in front of customers. “Glad you could make it in after all this morning, Orlean.” I pasted on a smile. “These nice folks have been very patient, and all have either urgent repair needs or something to leave.”

  “I’m on it, Mac.” Orlean didn’t quite mutter, but almost. At a look from me, she cleared her throat and mustered her own version of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. “Who’s first here?” she asked as I headed back to my clutch of tourists.

  By ten-thirty we almost had things under control. Orlean was greasing and tuning like crazy, with her favorite Emmy Lou Harris CD playing in the background. On my side I was banking rental deposits and selling biking clothes at an equal pace. Things could be worse. I’d find a moment free to talk with Orlean sometime before the end of the day. We really needed to hash through the scheduling nightmares that a no-show caused, or a late arrival. For the moment I had a lull in walk-ins, but I knew she was hurrying to finish a bike for someone who insisted he had to have it by eleven. Now would not be a good time to have our little chat. I did want to tell her I thought I had hired someone new, but it could wait. And maybe I hadn’t, after all, since Edwin himself was a no-show so far.

  A motorcycle needing a muffler putted past outside. At least the driver was taking it slow through town. Whenever I heard Harley-Davidson engines revving, it always made me think of the oldie song, “Leader of the Pack,” that Mom used to sing along to in the car when I was little. And it was an oldie then.

  I was tidying the stack of rental agreements when the no-show himself appeared backlit in the open back door. At least, I hoped it was Edwin and not his mysterious spirit twin. From here, with the sunlight behind him, I couldn’t quite tell. I waited for the man to come all the way in, but he didn’t.

  “Edwin, I thought we agreed you’d be here at nine.”

  “I only wanted to tell her I’m sorry.”

  That wasn’t Edwin’s voice. Was it? I slid off my stool, approaching the figure until I could see it wasn’t Edwin, in fact.

  “Who are you? Who did you want to apologize to?” And what have you done with Edwin?

  He finally moved in enough for me to see that it was the inked guy from last night. “My name is Corwin Germain. I’m Edwin’s older brother.” His voice was deeper, a bit rough, like I’d remembered it, but still so similar to Edwin’s.

  “I thought so. I tried to introduce myself last night.” Once again I held out my hand. “I’m Mac Almeida, and this is my shop.”

  He shook hands. “Sorry about that. Last night, I mean. I couldn’t stick around.” His short-sleeved black shirt revealed even more of the tattoos than had shown last night. One was the same dragon as on Edwin’s left arm.

  “Edwin was going to start working here this morning, but I haven’t seen him,” I said. “Would you have any idea where he is?”

  Corwin turned away without speaking, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Is Edwin all right?” I raised my voice. He’d better be. I chided myself. Of course he was. Haskins had followed him out last night. I didn’t know where he lived, though, and didn’t have time to call Pa and ask him.

  The brother faced me again. “Edwin’s fine. I think he’s fine, I mean. I don’t know why he’s late. Does Orlean Brown work for you?”

  I almost staggered from the whiplash. Why was he asking me about her all of a sudden? “Um, yes. She does. Why?” If he took ten more steps he’d see her himself.

  “She’s my wife. Or was.”

  Aha. The mysterious “ex.” I was surprised she hadn’t heard Corwin’s voice but Emmy Lou’s haunting voice must have masked it.

  “I wanted to tell her I’m sorry.” He spread his hands.

  A hand-holding couple in matching Hawaiian shirts strolled up to the counter. I smiled and told them I’d be with them in a second. I faced Corwin.

  “Would you mind waiting out back at the picnic table?” I gestured through the open door. “I’ll see if Orlean is free.”

  His eyes flew wide open. “She’s here working? Now?” He took a step toward me, trying to peer into the rest of the shop.

  I held my ground, and firmly steered him out through the door behind him. “Wait there.” I folded my arms and filled the doorway so he’d know I was serious. I wasn’t letting him loose on Orlean without first making sure she wanted to see him. From the way she’d referred to the “ex” a couple of days ago, I wasn’t sure. If she didn’t want to talk with him, it was going to be bye-bye Corwin, at least off my property, at least for now. My employees came first, no matter how difficult they were.


  * * *

  After I helped my rental couple and sent them on their way grinning atop a yellow tandem, I scooted around the corner to Orlean. She was head down and working in the repair area. I cleared my throat and waited until she looked up.

  “Yeah?” she asked, in her taciturn shortcut for, ‘what do you want?’

  “A man named Corwin Germain just came in asking for you.”

  “My ex.” Her face, never one to sport a rosy glow, went paler than usual. She blinked, waiting.

  “That’s what he said.”

  She nodded once, slowly, down and up.

  When she didn’t add anything, I went on. “He’d like to speak with you. I sent him out back to the picnic table.”

  She opened her mouth, but only blew out a breath that sounded exasperated.

  I went on. “When he first came in, all he said was that he wanted to tell you that he’s sorry. I told him that if you want to talk to him, I’ll send you out. But that it’s up to you.”

  “Jeemus H. Crackers, Mac,” Orlean said after staring at me for a long few seconds. “I’ve been a lousy employee, and here you’re doing me a favor?”

  “Hey. I know you. I hired you because I trusted you and I needed help. I don’t know this dude Corwin from a hole in the ground.”

  Orlean nodded, kind of like she didn’t trust herself to speak. As I watched, her eyes went saucer-ish. I turned to see a sheepish Edwin in the doorway.

  “Man, Mac, I’m really sorry. I know I’m three hours late, and I can explain everything.” He looked at Orlean and smiled shyly. “Hey, Orlean. Long time.”

  I glanced from him to Orlean and back. She stood stock-still. She looked like she’d never met him, but he was her brother-in-law. She must have.

  “Edwin, you know Orlean?”

  “She and Cor . . .”

  I saw the light of recognition come into Orlean’s eyes. “Edwin?” she screeched. “You’ve changed, kiddo.”

  His eyes, on the other hand, grew sad. “You thought I looked like my brother, didn’t you?”

  “Exactly,” she replied. “You sound like him, too.”

  Same as what I’d thought last night.

  “You were still a kid last time I saw you,” Orlean went on.

  “Yeah. I was fifteen, but I was late to mature.”

  He’d made up for lost time, with that low voice and beard growth.

  “Have you seen him?” Edwin asked Orlean. “Mac here said he was in town. I mean, last night she asked me if I had a brother. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.”

  Orlean pressed her lips into a grim line. “He’s been calling me over the last few days. I said no way. The dumbass got himself incarcerated. I divorced him. I don’t want nothing more to do with him.” She dusted off her hands with a slapping motion. “Good riddance. I’m sorry, Eddie, I know he’s your big brother. But I can’t have a husband like that.”

  Mentally I reeled from this new information, which was also the most words my taciturn mechanic had strung together since I’d met her. What she said explained her mood and her absences recently, however. And Corwin had been in prison. With Derrick? With Jake? And for what? This wasn’t the time to ask.

  “Mac says your brother,” she spat out the word like it was poison, “is out back, wanting to tell me he’s sorry.”

  Edwin’s eyebrows and whole face lifted. That hadn’t been his reaction last night. What had changed?

  “He’s been telling me he’s sorry since he got out,” Orlean continued. “I don’t care, and you can tell him that for me.”

  Edwin glanced at me as if seeking confirmation.

  I nodded. “He was out back a few minutes ago. Go see if you want.”

  “Thanks. Orlean, I’ll be right back.” He started for the door.

  “Kid?” She held out a hand. “I’m happy to see you, and I always will be. Want you to know that.”

  Edwin turned back. He grabbed her hand and drew her in, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Likewise, sis.”

  * * *

  I shot one glance at Orlean, but she was lost in her job again, albeit with pinkened cheeks. I hurried after Edwin and caught him before he went out.

  “Orlean said your brother was incarcerated.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I don’t care. Would you do me a favor and ask him if he knew my brother Derrick Searle . . .” I had been about to say while he was in prison but caught myself in time. Edwin didn’t know Derrick had been incarcerated. “I mean, if he’s ever spent time with Derrick. In the past.”

  Edwin narrowed his eyes at me. “What do you mean, ever spent time with him? Like hanging out?”

  I nodded, fingers crossed behind my back. I shouldn’t get my hopes up, anyway. There were prisons everywhere.

  “Okay. I’ll ask him.” He headed out the door.

  “And find out where he’s staying,” I called after him. He nodded without looking back.

  As I crossed to the rental counter, I glimpsed Corwin sitting on one of the picnic table benches, back to the shop, arms folded, legs extended. Like someone who could wait all day. If he’d been in prison for a few years, he had to be good at waiting.

  A flurry of new customers kept me from looking again, and fifteen minutes must have passed before Edwin came back in with more spirit in his step than before. He hung out browsing the shelves of merchandise, checking the prices on bikes, and reading my rental information sheet until I had a free moment.

  “Please let me apologize again for being so late,” Edwin began. “I can explain—”

  “Don’t.” I cut him off with a stop-sign hand. “Just don’t be late again. I need to have prompt employees. My business would collapse if it opened late, closed too early, or simply wasn’t open at all on a Saturday morning, especially during the season. Got it?”

  He stood up a little taller. “Got it.”

  “You all set with your brother?”

  Edwin pursed his lips but said he was.

  “Did he leave?”

  “Yeah. But I know where he is. He got a room in Bourne.”

  “Good. I might need to get that information from you later. Now, let me explain the rental system.” The two of us hunkered over the info sheet on the counter, me pointing out the rules and the prices, him asking the occasional question. Of course I was dying to know the whole story—where Corwin had been, if he’d known Derrick in prison, where he was now—but that was going to have to wait. It wasn’t properly a workplace discussion. As Orlean’s past with him wasn’t, either.

  “Let’s go around to the side and I’ll show you the categories of rentals.” I caught sight of the clock. “Oh, geez, it’s already after noon. Let me see if Orlean wants to take her lunch now. Meet you over there.”

  I made my way to the repair side. Orlean straightened from writing on a repair ticket and faced me. Tears stained her face. She swiped at them with the back of her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Orlean.” I paused, not sure whether to go to her or keep my distance. But heck, I like human touch when I’m upset, so I kept going and put my hand on her bony shoulder. “Can I do anything?”

  She sniffed. “Nope. Nothing nobody can do. It’s just, seeing Eddie’s face all young and hopeful like that. That’s how my Cor’s was. Before.” Her voice turned cynical on the last word and she turned away.

  I was about to say, “You don’t think you can give him a second chance?” when Edwin moved in on graceful cat feet. He took my place next to her. He also took my words.

  “Won’t you give him a second chance, sis?” he murmured to her. “Will you consider it? I think he’s changed.”

  I tapped my hands on my legs. I wasn’t quite sure whether to leave Orlean and Edwin alone, tell her to go eat lunch, or pretend nothing had happened.

  Derrick bustling in solved that little problem for me. He took in the scene. Orlean turned toward the tool bench and started straightening the tools she’d been using.

  If my brother had kno
wn Corwin in prison, was he going to have the same reaction to seeing Edwin as I’d had seeing Corwin after meeting his brother first? But, no. Surely Derrick and Edwin had met at Pa’s before. Derrick was around my parents’ place a lot more often than I was because of Cokey. So either Derrick hadn’t known Corwin, or he’d kept his thoughts about a resemblance to himself.

  Sure enough, Derrick and Edwin exchanged some kind of complicated guy handshake. My brother looked at me. “Cokey’s on a play date and I have the afternoon. Want me to take over the rentals and retail?”

  My mind raced at everything I could do with a free afternoon, possibly including a bit of sleuthing. “You bet. I was training Edwin here to help out. Looks like you guys already know each other. Can you keep showing him the ropes?”

  “Of course,” Derrick said as Edwin nodded. “Come on, dude. Let’s learn some wheels.” The two men headed over to rentals and retail.

  “And Orlean, I’ll cover repair while you get lunch. Good?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You okay?” I didn’t have vocabulary like dude or man to soften a phrase for women. Girlfriend, maybe. But that was the kind of word I’d use with Gin, not to Orlean. I left my question unsoftened.

  “I will be,” she muttered. She grabbed her bag lunch out of the fridge and disappeared out the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Half an hour later Orlean was back on the job, working on a maintenance issue with a rental, and the guys were each helping customers. Edwin was a quick study, exactly as I’d thought he’d be. I hoped Orlean and Corwin could come to a peaceful understanding, but I also knew it was completely out of my hands, and rightly so.

  Nobody from the police had come to pick up my threatening note, so I thought I might as well deliver it. Too bad nobody thought it held much urgency. Maybe I could get a few bits of information out of the detective while I was at the station, too.

  I checked the wall clock, which read a quarter to one. Good. I could take a few hours if I needed them. “I have to run some errands in town, gang,” I called out to my crew. “Be back before closing.”