Murder on Cape Cod Read online

  I could barely breathe, my heart beat so hard. Katherine didn’t move. The red handle of the little knife stuck out of her wrist. Blood trickled out around it.

  I shot a wide-eyed glance at Gin. “We have to get out of here, but let me find the gun first.” I whipped my head around but didn’t see it on the floor.

  Katherine moved her arm and moaned. At least I hadn’t killed her. But if she woke up we had to worry about her attacking again.

  I swore. Gin shook her head frantically. She pedaled her feet, aiming the wheeled chair toward the back door.

  The gun lay on the floor under where her chair had been. I gingerly grabbed the weapon. I didn’t think I could push her and safely hold it, too, so I laid it in Gin’s lap. As the empty taffy machine clattered on, I hurried Gin, her chair, and me outside to freedom.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Heads spun in our direction as we emerged into sunlight. Two Westham police cars hovered in the public parking lot, lights flashing, with a couple of state police cars nearby in the same condition. Victoria, clad in a thick black vest, stood to the left of the building, weapon drawn and extended with both hands. When she saw us, she lowered it.

  “Hey, Victoria.” My heart rate started to slow, ever so slightly. We’d made it.

  “Hey, Mac,” she said. “Glad you got out.” The two similarly dressed officers behind her nodded. “We were about to go in.”

  I knew what that meant from all the mysteries I’d read. This was way closer to a scene from a thriller than I was comfortable with.

  “Ms. Almeida, are you all right?” Haskins hurried toward me from the parking lot, with Billy Crump close behind.

  An ambulance rumbled into the parking lot, too, lights strobing but sans siren. Two EMTs jumped out.

  “We’re both all right. Katherine Deloit is on the floor inside, though.” I pointed to the gun in Gin’s lap. “I believe Katherine killed Jake, and she threatened us with that.”

  Haskins’s eyebrows went up. He pulled a blue glove out of his blazer pocket and pulled it on. “Excuse me, Ms. Malloy.” He lifted the gun with great care and handed it to a uniformed statie, also gloved. “That was the only weapon you saw?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed. “I stabbed her wrist with my little knife, then pushed her.”

  Billy, who stood hovering behind Haskins, gave a soft whistle.

  A small smile flirted with Haskins’s lips. “Did you, now? Good work.”

  “I think she hit her head on the metal counter before she fell,” I went on. “But she was starting to move and make sounds, so be careful when you go in.”

  “Got it. Ms. Malloy, we’ll get you freed up right away.” Haskins called to one of the EMTs, who hastened over with a pair of surgical scissors. First he loosened a corner of the tape on her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is going to hurt.” He eased it off with a gentle expertise, then clipped the tape on both of Gin’s wrists.

  Gin thanked the EMT. “I’m glad to get out of that mess.” She flexed her fingers and rolled her wrists, then stood. Her normally pink cheeks matched her cream-colored shirt. When she swayed, I grabbed her arm.

  “Do you need medical attention, ma’am?” the EMT asked her, taking her other arm.

  “I don’t think so. Now that I’m not a prisoner to the chair, I’m fine,” Gin said. She took a deep breath and blew it out. “But thanks. And thanks, Mac. My legs just felt like jelly all of a sudden. I’ll be fine.”

  “If you’re sure.” The EMT looked at me.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  “Detective, my Airbnb tenant is upstairs, Wesley Farnham,” Gin said, worry in her voice. “He won’t get hurt, will he?”

  Haskins appeared to swear under his breath. “Is there an outer egress to the second floor?”

  “Of course.” Gin pointed to the back of the building. “A set of stairs just around the corner there.”

  “Good. I’ll send someone up.”

  He turned away and spoke into his communication device. A few seconds later an officer made her way toward the back of the building.

  “A favor, please?” Haskins spoke to the EMT as he pointed to the chair. “If you could roll this into the lot behind the cruisers, I’d appreciate it. Keep the gloves on, and then stand by for instructions.”

  “Sure, sir.” Gin’s ride clattered off with him across the uneven pavement.

  “Ladies, Mr. Crump, I’ll need you to wait over there, too.”

  Haskins led us and Billy into the lot behind a double row of cruisers. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be back soon.” The detective beckoned to more staties. They strode over to Victoria and the officers and conferred.

  “I saw Deloit enter through the back door,” Billy said. “I was about to call to you when I saw you go in the front, so I called Haskins.”

  “Thank you. I was kind of hoping you were watching from somewhere. You hide pretty well.”

  He laughed softly. “It is my business, after all.” “Gin, how did Katherine get in your kitchen?” I asked.

  “I was coming out the back door and there she was. She pushed me back inside. When that gun came out, I wasn’t going to argue with her. Then she made me return your text. I didn’t want to, believe me.” With a down-turned mouth, she said, “I’m really sorry. She said she’d shoot me if I didn’t.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I frowned. “But I don’t understand why she attacked you and didn’t go straight for me. I’m the one she threatened more than once.”

  “I’d say she was using Gin to get to you,” Billy offered, raising one eyebrow. “If she’d been watching you, she knew you two went walking every morning.”

  “I guess she wanted to get us out of circulation because she thought we were getting closer to the truth about her.” I kept my eye on the police activity. One officer now stood at the ready near the front of the shop, and Victoria and her gang of uniforms looked like they were about to storm the Bastille.

  “But were we?” Gin asked. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Hey, a person reckless enough to kill someone to get a piece of land has to be at least a little paranoid, right?” I asked.

  “You did a good job of escaping. Did you really stab Deloit?” Billy asked, admiration tinting his voice.

  I nodded. “The knife is only two inches long, but it’s wicked sharp. I had no desire to end up with both of us trapped inside. She said was planning to set the kitchen on fire before she left, too.” I shuddered and my knees suddenly turned rubbery, too. “I’m going to sit down for a sec.” I headed to the curb at the far edge of the lot and sank down.

  “Good idea.” Gin joined me on the curb. “That woman would have burned up Wes sleeping upstairs, too. What an evil person, or deeply disturbed, at least. Good thing she wasn’t that bright.” From our seats we could see Wes staring out the window at the police vehicles. The officer must have warned him to stay put. Our position also gave us a vantage point for the show that followed.

  Three officers with weapons raised, led by Victoria, burst into the building. Haskins stayed outside but held some kind of communication device in front of his mouth. I couldn’t see from where we sat if the officer in front had gone in that way, or not. At some directive, in a couple of minutes the EMTs followed. They wheeled a stretcher, its bright yellow metal frame contrasting with a somber black pad.

  We waited. My head pounded. Gin’s face was still pale. Billy kept quiet, standing next to us. The house was quiet, too. No gunshots. No yelling.

  An officer emerged from the house and held the door open. An EMT was next, at the foot of the stretcher, which held Katherine Deloit.

  “I didn’t do anything. Those women tricked me. I demand you let me up from here!” Her nasal voice was strident and shrill. She thrashed on the stretcher but couldn’t get far.

  Even from here I could see her left wrist wrapped in white bandages. The wrapping wasn’t too thick for a handcuff to be fastened around it,
though. And the second cuff of the set was locked into the yellow-and-black railing at her side.

  Chapter Forty

  An hour later Gin and I had finished giving Haskins our accounts of the morning in a conference room at the police station. Gin, Billy, and I sat next to each other, and across the table were Haskins, Victoria, and a young officer I didn’t know. After tourists drawn by the lights and the commotion had started to crowd around, Haskins had directed us to the station. Victoria had sent somebody out for decent, non-police coffee, which had gone a long way toward restoring Gin and me to a semblance of normalcy.

  “I thought people were always separated when you interviewed them about a crime,” I’d said, once again drawing solely on my reading experience for my knowledge.

  “That’s for suspects,” Victoria replied. “Not quite the case here.”

  Now we were done telling our stories for the record. Billy had contributed what he knew and had seen, and Haskins hadn’t objected. He’d even thanked Billy for contacting him this morning. Finally the detective had declared the formal interview over. Our empty cups sat on the long table, and the young officer must have had pages of notes to submit, since he’d typed into a small laptop throughout the interview.

  “Is she still insisting she did nothing wrong?” I asked Haskins.

  “That’s right. Often criminals like her have a long history of refusing to take responsibility for their own actions. Particularly when it comes to murder.”

  I frowned. “I asked her directly if she killed Jake, since she was on our suspect list, but she wouldn’t admit it. You can find evidence now that you know it was her, I hope.”

  Haskins tented his fingers. “We’re working on that. At least we have cause to get a search warrant. We’ll go through her room, the car, her phone, and other possessions. I feel confident we can bring a murder one case. And no way she’s getting out of the assault charges.”

  “That’s good.” The color in Gin’s face was starting to return. She glanced at the wall clock and stood. “Can I be getting home? Sunday is one of my busiest days.”

  Haskins nodded. “That’s fine.”

  “Are you all right to start work so soon?” I asked her as I stood, too.

  “It’ll help, frankly.”

  I gave her a hug and watched her go. I turned back to Haskins. “I told you Derrick was innocent, didn’t I?” I sat again.

  “You did. And you were correct.”

  “At least it wasn’t Corwin,” I said, almost to myself.

  “No, it wasn’t. I haven’t found any evidence that he was involved, although he did know both Lacey and your brother in prison. He appears to be working hard at establishing a crime-free life for himself.”

  “Good. So were you ever able to talk with Wendy, Jake’s daughter?”

  “I did,” Victoria chimed in. “She came in at a time when Detective Haskins was unavailable. I took her statement about her reputed father.”

  Reputed. Did Victoria not believe Wendy? I wasn’t going there now.

  Haskins sat back in his chair, stretching out his long legs and fixed his gaze on me. “What are your theories about Deloit’s motivation to kill Mr. Lacey?”

  Now he wanted me to be an amateur sleuth? Fine with me. “I think she wanted desperately to buy Jake’s new inheritance, that piece of undeveloped land out on the Point.”

  “The one I was hired to tell Jake about,” Billy added.

  “Right. Deloit had a rich international customer, a Mr. Wu.” I narrowed my eyes, trying to remember her exact words. “Gin and I overheard her talking to him. She mentioned there would be no issues going forward, and that an obstacle had been something or other.”

  Victoria leaned forward. “Something or other?”

  “The wind shifted and I couldn’t hear the end of the sentence. I think she must have said the obstacle had been removed, or taken care of. It was after Jake’s death.”

  “But since Mr. Lacey had already spoken with his daughter, he likely wanted to keep the land for her, is that your idea?” Haskins asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Maybe Deloit thought by killing Jake the land would be available to buy. She must not have known about Wendy at all. I had a thought she might be Wendy’s mother, but when I said Wendy’s name to her she looked at me like she’d never heard it before.” I shook my head. “She might be a top real estate agent, but she was kind of a stupid criminal. Taping our hands in front of us and leaving our feet free. That would never happen in the mysteries I read.”

  Haskins laughed. “Stupid criminals make our jobs a lot simpler, believe me.” He stood and extended his hand to me. “You both have been a great help. Thank you.” After we shook, he and Billy did the same. “Glad to see you doing well for yourself, Crump.”

  “Yes, thanks, to you both.” Victoria smiled at me, but it was pinched, like she’d had to dig for it and put rusty smile muscles to a rare use. “And Mac? Glad you weren’t harmed this morning.”

  Would wonders never cease?

  Chapter Forty-one

  I sat in a patio chair with my family, plus a few, behind the parsonage at the end of the day. My formerly growling stomach was well-sated by the picnic dinner I’d just consumed. Pa had barbecued his signature marinated ribs, with hot dogs and chicken breasts for those not inclined to pork. Mom had served her spicy Asian noodle salad, with smooth soba, crunchy bits of carrot and cabbage, and a sweet-and-tangy dressing that included sesame oil, rice vinegar, soy sauce, and I wasn’t sure what else. I only knew I loved it. Tim had brought fresh ciabatta and a stick of Irish butter, and Gin contributed a plate of fudge.

  The five o’clock sunlight slanted into my eyes, so I nudged my chair a few degrees to the left on the grass. As chickadees zipped from branch to branch, making their tiny beeping calls, I watched Tim push Cokey in the swing, her yellow top now stained with barbecue sauce. That kid was the furthest thing from a picky eater. Gin sat chatting with my father. Abo Reba returned from the drinks table carrying a sangria refill of her blue plastic margarita glass in one hand and a beer for me in the other. Nobody had delved into my morning’s excitement except to hug me and tell me they were glad I was all right.

  I’d taken a few minutes after I’d gotten home from the station to finish up the Cozy Capers’ group text with the bare bones of the candy shop attack and Katherine’s arrest, and said I’d give a more complete report Tuesday at our meeting. Norland texted back within the minute, writing only, “Congrats!”

  Writing to the Capers had reminded me I hadn’t read a word of the next book. I decided I deserved a day off, what with the events of this week up to and including this morning. After checking in that all was well at the shop, I’d packed up the book and a towel. A sandwich, a beer, and a bottle of water in a lunch cooler also accompanied me to Chapoquoit Beach for the day. Watching the water, I’d reflected on how, just like in the books we read, justice had been restored to our small community. After our kitchen ordeal on top of the week’s happenings—threatening note, motorcycle attack, suspicious strangers—I decided I’d much rather stick with fictional murder investigations.

  Now, between the beach, this meal, and another beer, I was more relaxed than a slowly pedaled ride on level ground.

  Abo Reba broke the streak of picnic peace by gazing at me with bright eyes. “Okay. Tell me all about it.”

  I sighed, but I couldn’t refuse my grandma. I outlined the events as briefly as I could.

  “Were you afraid she would shoot you?” she asked.

  “Of course. The thing is, I don’t know why she didn’t. It seemed weird that she was going to tie us up and then I guess she was going to leave. I still don’t know why she didn’t fire the gun. Maybe it was fake, or she didn’t actually have any ammunition.”

  Mom appeared at my side. “She had a built-in opposition to explosions. That’s why.” She sat cross-legged in front of us, her back erect, her purply pink dress spreading out around her like the skirt of a fuchsia.

&nb
sp; “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I saw it in her chart,” my mother said. “She didn’t mind stabbing poor Jake, but when it came to explosive devices like a gun, she couldn’t tolerate it.”

  I mentally rolled my eyes but made sure Mom didn’t see me actually doing it. Somehow I wasn’t sure about that explanation, but now wasn’t a time I wanted to argue with anyone about anything.

  “Linc, come and join us,” Abo Reba called, waving.

  Lincoln Haskins had just appeared around the corner of the house from the front. He paused to shake hands with Derrick and Pa before making his way to where we sat.

  “Good afternoon, ladies. I hope I’m not intruding. Joseph invited me to stop by.”

  “The drinks are on the table, Detective, and there’s plenty of food.” I smiled at him. “Please help yourself.”

  He hesitated, then laughed. “Oh, why not? I’m off duty.” He returned with a frosty Sam Adams in his hand. He sank to sitting on the grass next to Astra, also cross-legged and with a fluid grace that surprised me in such a large man. He must have seen my reaction.

  “I’m Wampanoag, you know. We never outgrow joining ourselves with the Earth that sustains us.” He sipped from the beer then cradled it in both hands.

  “I don’t want to make you talk shop,” I began.

  “But you’re going to,” Abo Reba said with a gentle elbow jab that didn’t quite reach me.

  “Go ahead,” the detective said. “I don’t mind.”

  “I wondered if you’ve found any definitive evidence.” I took a good long swig from my own bottle.

  “You don’t need to worry. It’s early, yet, but we’ve already found notes in Katherine Deloit’s room about Jake, his property, and his schedule, not to mention a rental receipt from Bourne Motor Sports.”

  “So it was her on the Harley. Wow. And she knew Jake had inherited the land?” I asked.

  He nodded, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Looks like it. I don’t yet know how or where she uncovered that. Crump says he didn’t tell her. Could be she overheard Lacey talking to someone about it. We’ll find out. We also unearthed a bloodstained coat balled up in a Falmouth dumpster near Deloit’s lodging. She wasn’t a very devious bad guy, as you saw. The coat was missing a button, too. The others matched that button you found near where Lacey was killed.”