Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Ferd followed Duke into Sacred Grounds later that day for coffee. He held the door for her, then followed her to a table. Clem picked up two small napkins and set them down as they got comfortable. “Afternoon. It’s always a good time for caffeine. Would you like an extra shot?”
Ferd snorted. “Maybe not today. I’ve already taken my chances. I’ll have my usual.”
Clem’s usual optimistic smile faltered. He opened his mouth then closed it. He turned to Duke and waited.
“Same.” Duke rearranged the little napkin carrier on the table until everything was perfectly in place.
Clem grinned and left to give the order to the barista. Ferd tugged on her watch band. Everything felt tight and ill-fitting today. Did stress cause swelling? Duke’s phone buzzed and he answered immediately.
“Hello.” He mumbled a few quick acknowledgements of whatever was said, then hung up.
“That’s interesting.” His brows rose.
“What?” Ferd waited to hear whatever he’d been told.
“The DNA on the lip of that can matched the blood under Bailey’s fingernails. Either he invited the guy over to drink who later killed him, or the cans in Bailey’s apartment had to have been planted. Maybe to make Kelly think he was a raving drunk.”
Why would someone plant evidence to assassinate someone’s character?
“So, if the two issues are connected, he was murdered by someone he knew well enough to have a key. It can’t be his ex, though she could’ve given a key to someone else or hired them.
It can’t be Heath and Kevin, no matter how weird and suspicious they are because there’s no way they have a key. ”
Duke frowned but nodded. “Not to mention the fact that they don’t seem like the kind of guys who know anything about boats. But that note left on the fridge was weird and kind of indicated that they did.”
She spun the drink napkin under her finger. “True. I’m still not sure if those were left by him or to send us off the track. If someone planted beer cans, they could’ve planted those little notes.” She leaned back as Clem left her coffee in front of her.
“Miss Kincade? Will you be at church on Sunday? I missed you last week. The rows weren’t quite even without you.” He stood in place, his tender face as serious as she’d ever seen him.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling up to going last Sunday, and I’ll be traveling this week. But since you know in advance, you can seat people so it’s not so unbalanced.”
He gave her a huge smile and a thumb’s up. “I knew you’d understand.”
“He’s worked here for as long as I can remember.” Duke tilted his head slightly. “This place wouldn’t be the same without him.”
“Agreed, and I haven’t been here as long as you.” She wrapped her fingers around her cup. “So, no wife. No Heath and Kevin. We didn’t think his boss had anything to do with it, but he has a key.”
“One thing we didn’t ask his ex was if she has any new boyfriends, though I wouldn’t think that would be a motive for murder. His ex definitely didn’t want him for anything but his money.” Duke slid his mug to the side and grabbed his laptop. He flipped it open and pressed a button to turn it on.
“Yeah, I didn’t see a single picture of anyone in her home. Not a new boyfriend. Not family. Just her cats. If she is dating, he’s got to get closer to her than that orange terror.”
Duke exhaled quickly with a half-smile. “I don’t want to make any assumptions, but if I had to make one, she doesn’t have another man wanting Bailey’s old position. But let’s stop back at her place after this and ask her.”
“That leaves George, the man who wanted Bailey’s body. There’s no one else on the list.”
“I called Doris at the Inn, and she told me she hasn’t had anyone staying there at all in the last two weeks.”
“Kinda feel bad about that but who is going to visit Piper’s Ridge? Even if they did, who wants to stay in a vintage hotel where vintage is actually an expletive, not an adjective.” Ferd took a sip of her coffee.
“The inside might be even worse.” He sucked in his breath through his teeth.
A man approached their table in a suit that looked like it cost more than her car. That guy will never have to worry about laugh lines . . .
“Excuse me, are you Duke Campose?”
“Um, yes?” He squinted. “And can I assume you’re George Edward Ripley the third?”
The man frowned and looked away. “George Ripley will suffice.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m in town for a few days trying to get my uncle’s body released for transport. I’ve decided to take him home to California.”
“And did you bring proof that you’re the next of kin?” Duke leaned back in his chair. “I can’t just release a body, no matter that it’s part of a murder investigation, to anyone who asks for it.”
George stiffened and his face hardened. “Then I’ll have to call my lawyer.”
Duke stared straight at him and smiled. “Do that. I’m sure we’ll be talking soon.” Duke turned slightly, effectively dismissing George.
As soon as he sat in his own booth Ferd leaned forward and dropped her voice. “He’s in town . . .? I didn’t expect that.”
“I didn’t either, honestly. I thought he was kind of a nonstarter. Pot-stirrer. I wasn’t sure how he knew about Bailey’s death so quickly when the town seemed really slow to learn, but who knows who he’s connected to.”
“Or why he’s so interested in Bailey’s body. Did anything weird show up in the autopsy? I hate to immediately think of anything . . . odd, but there were a lot of drugs in Bailey’s boat. Was he a mule? Either knowingly or not?”
“Oh, he was a trafficker but not a mule. His autopsy was clean. Blunt force trauma to the face. Defensive wounds. Bloodwork, at least the quicker tests, was all clean. Whatever George wants, I don't think it's to hide Bailey's cause of death.”
“I guess we add him to the immediate suspect list because if he’s not been staying at the Piper’s Ridge Rest and he’s here now, he could’ve been here for quite some time.”
Duke glanced in the direction George had gone to sit.
“You’re right. Just because his call registered a California area code doesn’t mean he didn’t use his cell phone from somewhere local.
I’m not ready to interview him just yet, but that is coming.
We’ll let him think he’s flying above the radar for now. ”
“Where next?” She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes to block out anything that could disturb the flavor.
“I want to talk to the ex-wife one more time. I also need to talk to Kelly. There were no fingerprints on that can belonging to Bailey, but there were two other identifiable prints. I’d like to see if she’ll willingly give hers and ask if she knows how anyone might have gotten a key to a property she cleans. ”
“She’s already scared. Scared equals helpful.”
“Or guilty.” He stood and closed his laptop, then shoved it into his messenger bag. “Let’s go.”