Trick or Deceit (21 page)

“I'll keep someone here for a while to make sure we closed it down. Have to send in the inspector, but only because it was a case of arson. He'll have to make sure none of the electrical wires were compromised and check for structural damage just to be on the safe side. But we caught it before it spread, thanks to some quick thinking. Who called it in?”

“I did,” Barry said. He glared at Ernie. Ernie glared back at him.

“Well,” Liv said. “I'm sure there will be plenty of people to help you once you've been cleared, Ernie.”

“Yeah,” Barry said. “They got my place up again.”

“I didn't wreck your place,” Ernie said.

“Well, I'm thinking that the same person is responsible for both crimes.”

Bill lifted his radio from his utility belt. “Liv, did you recognize him?”

Liv thought about it. “I saw the Doomsday Guy in the crowd. At least it looked like him. He was dressed in the same kind of clothes he was wearing last time we saw him. I tried to get closer to make sure it was him, but I lost him for a second. Then I saw him leave the crowd and start off down the street. He looked furtive and in a hurry. That's when I called you.”

“Barry?”

“I didn't get a good look at the guy. He knocked Liv out of the way and took off down the street. I thought about running after him, but I was afraid Liv was hurt.”

Bill nodded, pressed the transmit button, and waited. “Meese. Send a unit over to Miss Patty's Haunted House. Be discreet, but keep your eyes open for suspicious characters. Someone just tried to torch Ernie's. If he's preying on the haunted house finalists, he might go there next.”

He signed off and turned to Liv. “You never got a good look at him?”

“No, I was trying to keep him from starting a second fire. He had some kind of incendiary device.”

“I love it when she uses big words,” Chaz said under his breath but loud enough for Liv to hear.

“That's enough from you,” Bill told him.

“Rag in a glass bottle filled with gasoline,” the fire chief said. “Thanks to Liv, we found the second device in the yard. If there were more, they are still on the arsonist's person.”

Bill made another transmission to put out an APB on the Doomsday Guy. “Whose name, by the way, is Stanley Riggs, a two-bit con man, wanted in several towns for vagrancy and petty theft. And now arson.”

“Why does he stand on corners spouting hellfire and damnation?”

Bill shrugged. “Just nuts, I guess.”

“And dangerous,” A.K. added.

His voice was so deep and serious that Liv jumped. He was looking straight at Liv. “In case you were wondering.”

“Well, at least we know it wasn't Jon. You guys must be so disappointed.”

“Hey!” Chaz said.

Ignoring him, Liv turned to Bill. “Do you think Lucille witnessed him wrecking Barry's and he killed her?”

Bill didn't answer, just said, “Why don't you get in the cruiser? I'll drive you back to the office, where you'll be more comfortable. I can take the rest of your statement there.”

“Your work here is done,” Chaz said in a low radio voice. Then he grinned. “But you're not out of the woods yet.”

Liv made a face at him and gladly climbed into the front seat of Bill's cruiser.

As soon as they reached the end of the block, Liv turned to look back on the scene.

Ted, A.K., Chaz, and Fred had all turned to watch them drive away. And she felt a surge of emotion, not anger exactly, sort of anger mixed with exasperation mixed with . . . affection? Nah, mainly exasperation.

“They mean well,” Bill said.

Her moment of affection burst. “They're obnoxious, interfering numbskulls.”

“That, too. But it's because they care about you.”

“If you say so. Now tell me, do you think this Stanley Riggs killed Lucille?”

Bill kept his eyes on the street, but slowly shook his head.

“Then who?”

“We're still investigating.”

Dread curved slowly through her stomach. “Have you finished with Jon's car?”

“Not yet.”

“Why? How long does it take to search a car?”

“As long as it takes.”

“You sent off DNA samples, didn't you?” No answer. “Didn't you?”

“Liv, you know I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of an investigation.”

Liv thought it was a little late to split hairs, but she didn't mention that. She bet he would discuss it with Ted. Exasperation with her band of protectors changed back to anger.

“Well, Jon didn't kill anyone. If you found anything, someone must have stolen his car.”

“And brought it back without him knowing about it?”

“It was parked at the Marlton-Crosbys. The house is surrounded by woods. The cars aren't visible from inside the house. It's totally possible that someone could have taken it after he'd gone to sleep. You heard Jon. He was jet-lagged and went to bed early. He didn't hear a thing all night.”

“Liv, how close are you to Jonathon Preston?”

Liv narrowed her eyes at Bill, but since he was looking straight ahead, he didn't notice. “I've known him for years. He travels the world giving money away. Not killing women in fancy high heels. Which reminds me, did you ever find Lucille's scarf?”

No answer.

“You didn't find it in Jon's car? Bill, dammit. If you did, you know it was a setup. Trust me. Jon Preston is a brilliant man. If he did want to commit murder—which he didn't—but if he did, he would have covered his tracks much better than leaving a piece of evidence in his car.”

She waited.

“We didn't find it.”

She let out her breath. Surprised herself at how tense she'd become. It was ludicrous, the idea of Jon killing anyone. He was a philanthropist. He worked for one of the most prestigious charitable foundations. He was a good guy.

“Then I guess we'll have to keep looking.”

“You stay out of it. Do you realize how close you came to being seriously injured, maybe worse, today?”

“I hadn't until you put it like that. It's because I was reacting instead of acting. But when I saw him light that—what's it called—Molotov cocktail? I kind of lost my head.”

“You almost lost more than your head.”

“Won't happen again, boss.”

Bill chuckled. “You're incorrigible.”

“I'm determined. Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think the murder and the vandalisms are connected or just a weird coincidence?”

“I'm not discounting anything at this time.”

“Spoken like a true policeman.” Liv's cell rang.

She reached in her messenger bag, took it out.
Jon.
She deliberated answering, thought what the heck, and swiped it open. “Hey.”

“Hi. I looked for you at the zombie parade, but it was a madhouse.”

“I was pretty busy. Listen, can I call you back?”

“Sure. Just wanted to let you know that I'm going to stay with Amanda until your sheriff releases my car. She's picking me up in a few minutes.”

“Oh, okay. Bye.” She hung up.

“Everything alright?” Bill asked.

“Yep,” Liv said and wondered if he had been able to hear Jon's voice in the background. And why Jon had suddenly decided to leave the inn.

By the time Bill had finished with his questions, the zombies had dispersed to bars, restaurants, and home, and Ted had returned to the office. They still weren't really speaking, but Liv was beginning to feel less angry.

When Bill left, she went into the front office.

“Why did you let them talk you into pulling that stunt last night? Do you know how stupid it made me look?”

“Would you rather have had the two of them there without me?”

Liv sighed. “I guess it could have been a lot worse.”

“It certainly could have been.”

“BeBe said you tried to talk them out of it.”

“I did. To no avail. Sorry.”

“Thanks. Though it doesn't matter really. With Bill impounding Jon's car and practically accusing him of murder, I'm guessing we can kiss the chance of getting any funds good-bye.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

Liv shrugged. “Maybe not my fault, but my responsibility.”

“Are you having dinner with him tonight?”

“No. He's going to stay with Amanda and Rod. I think he's had enough of Celebration Bay for this lifetime.”

“Why don't you go on home, Liv? Get some rest. I'll close up.”

She nodded. She was suddenly tired. Tired and sick that they'd blown the future of the community center. At least for the time being.

She dreaded having to face Pastor Schorr and the kids and the seniors. They'd been so enthusiastic. So optimistic.

Well, they'd just have to make do with one of the church basements until they could raise enough money to rent or buy another place.

She packed up, said good night to Ted, and started across the park toward home. She hardly noticed the lights strung from the porch eaves, the blow-up ghouls in the yards, the hay stacks and coffins.

Barry was good to go. Hopefully Ernie could get up to speed. Halloween would arrive. The merchants would hand out candy and the next day all the ghosts and jack-o'-lanterns would disappear, to be replaced by cornstalks and gourds and merchants wearing pilgrim hats. And they'd prepare for the Turkey Trot and the Pilgrim dinner and then . . .

Then maybe after Christmas Liv would take a vacation, somewhere far away where it was warm with sun and beaches and drinks with little umbrellas in them, and no holidays.

“When pigs fly,” she said out loud and kicked at a pile of leaves that someone had raked to the curb.

When she got home there was a note on the door:
We have Whiskey with us and chicken potpie, come over if you feel like it.

She smiled at the thoughtfulness of her landladies, but she didn't feel like company and she knew if she joined them, they would want to know all about the fire at Ernie's and how the investigation was going, and Liv just didn't have the energy to go through it again.

And she was scared. Scared that they wouldn't be able to find funds for the new center. Afraid that Jon would somehow get implicated in the murder and be sent off to jail. And she would have that on her.

Or would she? She hung up her jacket and went into the living room. Jon said that he had also come to check out the situation between Amanda and Rod. Two birds with one stone, so to speak. Coincidence? Maybe he'd never intended to give them the grant at all, just used it as an excuse to visit the Marlton-Crosbys.

That thought made her even more depressed. Maybe she would visit her landladies after all, because sitting alone was just making her feel worse.

Whiskey was ecstatic to see her. Liv could hear him barking and jumping before Edna even opened the door. He bounded out without his usual running in circles. He went right to her and rose on his hind legs, his front paws balancing on her knees, and lifted his head to be petted.

She leaned over and scrubbed behind his ears. “Did you miss me?”

He barked.

Above them Edna shook her head. “That one is learning to talk. I swear he understands exactly what you're saying.”

And feeling,
thought Liv, giving Whiskey an extra pat.

The three of them went straight down the hall to the kitchen, where Ida was just taking a plate out of the oven.

“We kept it warm for you, Liv. You just can't microwave pie crust. I don't care what they say.” Ida set the plate on the table and lifted off the aluminum foil.

“Thank you.” Liv sat down. “It looks incredible.”

“Would you like some decaf?”

“Just water, please.”

Edna brought the water, while Ida poured two cups of coffee. The sisters sat down. Whiskey curled up under Liv's feet.

“We thought you might be having dinner with that nice young man from New York City.”

“He had another engagement.”

Edna put down her cup. “What engagements could he possibly have that don't include you? Please tell me he's not meeting with Mayor Worley without you.”

“No. But he's an old friend of Amanda Marlton-Crosby's.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Ida said cryptically.

“Explains what?” Liv asked, and gingerly took a bite of the steaming pie.

“Why Ruth Benedict claims she saw his car parked at the fish camp.”

Liv stopped the next bite of pie inches from her mouth. “The fish camp? Why would he park down there? That would be a hike through the meadow to the main house.”

“Well, that's what she said. And she said she was going to tell the sheriff.”

“She did. Now they've impounded his car and told him not to leave town.”

“No! We hadn't heard,” Ida said.

“Well, it's ludicrous and I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. I'm sure it's just a big mistake.”

When neither Ida nor Edna agreed, Liv looked up.

Both sisters were looking at her sympathetically.

“He didn't do it.”

“No, of course not,” Ida said. “Would you like some more potpie?”

Liv shook her head.

“Well, don't you worry about it. Bill will figure it all out.”

“With Liv's help, of course,” Edna added. “Now finish your pie. You look like you could use some sleep.”

•   •   •

Liv decided to take Whiskey to work with her the next morning. Actually it was Whiskey who decided. He was waiting by the front door when she put on her jacket, and sat patiently while she put on his leash. But when she started up the front walk to leave him with the sisters, he planted his feet and stiff-legged, and refused to go another step.

All the cajoling and promise of treats had no effect. As soon as she slackened the leash, he pulled toward the street. Ida came to the door and called him.

He was clearly torn but he stood his ground. And Liv caved. “I'll take him with me. He obviously has plans with Ted,” she said, only half joking.

So the two of them started off for town, Whiskey spry and feeling his oats, clearly the winner of that early morning battle of wills.

“But you'd better behave. I may be really busy today.”

Whiskey pulled away to sniff at a tree trunk.

They stopped at the bakery and for coffee, but neither Dolly nor BeBe seemed to have heard about Jon's car being impounded, and Liv didn't enlighten them. They might be able to get out of this unscathed if they just kept their heads together and their mouths shut.

She was surprised to find Bill sitting in Ted's office when she got to work

“Any breaks in the cases?” she asked warily as she handed Ted his tea and the bag of apple muffins. “Whiskey's treat is in the bag.”

Whiskey pranced over to Ted. Ted looked in the bag and pulled out a dog biscuit in the shape of a pitchfork. Raised both eyebrows at Liv and said, “Grossly inappropriate.” He turned it over. “Or apropos?”

Liv turned to Bill.

He didn't looked happy and Liv steeled herself for whatever he was about to say.

“Let's go into your office,” Bill said. He pushed himself slowly and painfully to his feet.

“I thought yoga was helping your sciatica,” Liv said over her shoulder as Bill and Ted followed her into her office.

“It was. But I haven't been able to go with this new murder investigation.”

“Well, I think yoga should be your first priority. So you're in good enough shape to investigate.”

She sat behind her desk and lifted the tab of her coffee. “Okay. Are you going to give me an update?”

“It's not looking good. We've sent samples out to the lab. It will be a while until they get back, but we did find hairs, matching the color of Lucille Foster's. And he's checked out of the inn without notifying the police.”

Liv swiveled her head toward Bill. “You told him to stay in town. Amanda's house is in town.”

“Strictly speaking.”

Liv gave him an exasperated look.

“He should have notified the police that he was moving.”

“It was no secret. He notified me.”

“Liv,” Ted began.

She cut him off with a look. “So you went hightailing off to the Marlton-Crosbys to make sure he hadn't bolted.”

Bill's lips tightened. “Will you stop treating me like the enemy?”

“All right, but I still think you're on the wrong track.”

“I hope I am, but the fact remains, it's looking like his car was involved somehow.”

“So that's that. You just have to find who stole it.”

Bill exchanged looks with Ted. “Not exactly.”

Liv lifted her chin, determined to listen but not be swayed by whatever came next.

“Rod Crosby said he heard Preston's car drive away from the house late Friday night.”

Liv leaned forward, her anger threatening to erupt. “Jon picked up Amanda from the award ceremony. Rod was with them. He put Amanda in the car and said he was going out drinking with friends. We saw him.”

“Much later than that. After Mr. Crosby had returned home and gone to bed. He said, he figured Mr. Preston was still suffering from jet lag and went out for a drive.”

“Because someone is obviously trying to implicate Jon. Have you made an arrest?”

“No. Not yet. But Liv, you might want to prepare yourself.”

She sprang out of her desk chair. “For what? For when you make a false arrest?”

“Liv, calm down. I won't make any move until we have enough evidence to hold him.”

“Well, you'll have a long wait. I'm going out.” She grabbed Whiskey's leash off the coat rack. “Come on boy.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” She didn't wait for a response but walked quickly down the hall and out of the building. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew she needed a place to think. About what? She didn't have a clue, but there had to be something they were missing, some reason for Jon's car being involved without it involving Jon.

She didn't really want to talk to anyone, either. She steered away from the park, avoided the bakery and Coffee Exchange, and had just decided to walk down by the river, when someone called her name.

She turned around. Yolanda was standing in the door of the Mystic Eye, waving her over. Today she was dressed in yoga pants and a long tunic of soft material that glinted in the sun. A scarf was tied around her hair and trailed down the front of her shoulder.

Liv sighed. She really didn't want to talk about Amanda Crosby right now. On the other hand . . . who better to borrow Jon's car without him knowing about it than Amanda or Rod—or possibly even Yolanda?

So maybe she was grasping at straws. Shocked at the turn her mind had taken, Liv hesitated, and as she stood there Yolanda started running toward her, looking frantic.

“I was just going to call you,” Yolanda huffed out between breaths. The witch was seriously out of shape. “Liv, we need your help. It's happened again.”

“What's wrong? Who needs my help? Has there been more vandalism?”

“Carol Sue called just a few minutes ago. She's one of our group doing the retreat up at Amanda's fish camp. They were out for their sunrise meditation and incantations, and when they got back to the cabins, they had been ransacked and—” Her voice wobbled out of control and she let out a cry. “All our books and instruments were ruined. What is wrong with people? We're not bothering anyone.”

“Maybe you should call the sheriff.”

“No! I called him like you suggested when the store was vandalized. And he didn't seem very sympathetic then. Slow-witted, if you ask me.”

“It's just that he's slow and methodical, but he gets there.”

“Not fast enough to help us. I won't be bothering him again. Witches have enough trouble without having to involve the police. It seems if you're not selling candles and love potions in Salem, people don't want you around.”

“That isn't true,” Liv said, not really knowing if it was true or not. She knew her first response on hearing about Yolanda's shop was that she hoped they didn't cause trouble.

Yolanda must have read something in her face, because she said, “I'm sorry I bothered you. But Amanda, Miriam, everybody said you were the person to go to when there was a problem, and I thought— But never mind, sorry to have bothered you.”

Yolanda turned to go.

“Wait.”

Yolanda stopped, slowly turned.

“Some people in town may be like that. In fact I know they are, and it's not just toward witches. It's toward anyone who's a little different, or just a stranger. Trust me. I've been on the receiving end of that myself. But most of us aren't that way.”
Well, a lot of us aren't like that.
“Okay, I'll help. Tell Carol Sue not to touch anything until we get there. Rats. I don't have my car.”

“Mine's parked out back,” Yolanda said.

“What about Whiskey?”

“He's welcome. We're all animal lovers. How are his bloodhound skills?”

“If it involves food, he's pretty good.”

Yolanda smiled halfheartedly.