Chapter 11 #2
“Thanks, guys,” Nora said when they entered her office.
She sat behind a large desk covered by papers and files, a laptop in the center.
“I wasn’t sure I would have time to go out and get anything.
City council wants a press conference later today about George Roth’s death, and I’m trying to figure out what to say other than he was very disorganized and apparently really hated paranormals. ”
“Yes, we know,” Arthur said. “Well. About the second thing. He ran on a campaign of keeping Trident Falls normal.”
Nora rolled her eyes as she accepted the food from Salvatore. “His death was a tragedy, but I can’t say I’m sad to see him out of politics—although, according to some of his notes, maybe he was coming around a bit on the paranormal situation.”
Salvatore choked. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so either until I gave my presentation the other night.
” Nora shrugged and pried open the lid on her pho.
“But I found some notes he made about my plan for the city. I think my proposal got through to him—or at least the economic benefits of it. If there’s one thing George Roth hated more than paranormals, it was a deficit.
” She riffled through the files on the desk and produced a legal pad covered in scribbles.
“Is this a pro/con list?” Arthur asked, serotonin flooding his senses at the very thought. “With…more pros than cons?”
“And a positive economic projection.” Nora set the pad down. “I think he might have actually gone for my proposal if he hadn’t been murdered.”
“Speaking of his murder,” Arthur said, glancing over his shoulder to check the door was still shut and no nosy reporters were listening in, “we came here to ask a favor.” It was a risk, looping Nora into the investigation in such a big way, but it couldn’t be helped.
Besides, they could learn just as much from her reactions as they could from the video footage.
“About the case?” Nora paused, about to dump an indecent amount of cilantro into her pho. Arthur couldn’t understand why anyone ate cilantro; it tasted like soap.
“Yes, we’re here to examine the security footage from the park the night of the murder. We discovered it’s the crime scene, you see,” Salvatore said with a dramatic flourish of his hands.
Nora ate as Arthur quickly filled her in on select new facts, namely, that the Iris Inn was no longer the scene of a murder and that they’d found a suspicious pool of blood in the park. He tried to be as vague as possible, all the while watching Nora closely.
“I can call down to the security office,” Nora said when he was done. Her face revealed no signs of guilt, though it did bear a single cilantro leaf just to the left of her lips. “It’s on the first floor. I’ll tell them you’re coming.”
“You’re not accompanying us?” If she was guilty, surely she would be curious to see the tape for herself. Or perhaps her calm demeanor was because she already knew it showed nothing incriminating.
“Sorry, but I just don’t have time.”
“Are you…sure?”
Nora narrowed her eyes. “Why…?”
“No reason!” Arthur said in a hurry. “It’s just video footage of a possible murderer. Why would you need to see that?”
“Yeah, it’s not like you’re the killer, right?” Salvatore asked with all the subtlety of a jackhammer.
Nora cocked her head. “Wait…do you suspect me?”
“Of course not!” Arthur exclaimed, but it was too late. Sal’s voice was much louder and his words far more interesting.
“Well, it’s just that you and Quinny seem to be hiding something, so obviously we thought it must be murder.”
“Oh my god. You have got to be kidding me,” Nora muttered under her breath. “I promise you, Quinn and I had nothing to do with this.”
“Oh? And you’ll vouch for Quinn?”
Nora stared at him, a deer caught in headlights, or perhaps caught in a trap of her own making.
Then she swallowed hard and said, “Look. Quinn may not be my favorite person, but she’s not a killer and neither am I.
It’s just that we…” She trailed off, eyes darting from Arthur to Sal and back again.
“Wait a minute. You think we were in on this together?”
Arthur shrugged. “Hating each other is a fairly good deterrent for suspicion of teamwork, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I guess, but really? We can’t even get together on the wording of an email, let alone align our schedules, alibis, and motives well enough to commit a murder.”
“She has a point,” Sal said in a loud whisper. “Perhaps we should give it a rest?”
Arthur bent his head to murmur back, “Might as well finish the job. We’re halfway there…”
“Whoa-oh, chicken on a bear!” Sal exclaimed to the tune of “Livin’ on a Prayer,” a crescent-moon grin splitting his face.
“Huh?” Nora’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at them in half horror, half confusion.
“Those definitely aren’t the lyrics,” Arthur huffed before he could stop himself. But correcting Sal’s recollection of a Bon Jovi song wasn’t why they were there. “Answer me this, Ms. Anderson. If you and Ms. Clark are so innocent, then why are you both lying to us?”
Nora stiffened at his use of her surname, then shook her head. “I know you mean well, but I…The security officer is waiting for you. You’d best be on your way. Will the sheriff be joining you?”
“I doubt it.” Sal guffawed, a sound that felt almost as out of place as two vampires in Trident Falls. “Last we saw him, he was trying to get into a storage shed at the park. I think he thought it was an office where he could view the footage.”
“Wonder if someone should tell him any camera the city owns is monitored from here.”
“Why spoil the joy of discovering it on his own?” Salvatore asked with a wicked twinkle in his eye before they ducked out to make their way downstairs.
Arthur’s shoulders slumped as the door clicked behind them. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he said.
“Do what? Save you from irreconcilably insulting our one and only paying guest?”
This whole thing was such a mess, and it seemed there’d be no way through it without ruffling feathers.
He hadn’t missed that Nora avoided answering his question.
Still, that didn’t make her guilty of anything…
Arthur shook himself, hoping the motion might jostle all the thoughts spinning through his head into some sort of recognizable order.
He’d gathered plenty of clues by now; surely some of them added up to something significant. If only he could find the connections.
“There, there, Arthur, my love. We’ll find a way to fix this. Perhaps an I’m-so-very-sorry-we-accused-you-of-murder brunch?” Sal ran a hand along Arthur’s shoulders. “Food heals all wounds.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“I know what you’re going to say, but once I saved a man from bleeding out after a stab wound with only a lamb chop and an onion.”
Arthur blinked at him, unsure what Salvatore could possibly expect him to say after such a response. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Arthur said quietly, a finger pressed thoughtfully to his temple.
“Alas, it was. I’m sorry to report, the man died later of an infection.
The doctor chastised me most vigorously for using raw meat to stop the bleeding, but what else was I supposed to use?
My shirt was white and covered in hand-stitched lace appliqué!
The doctor tried to tell me that death is permanent, but it’s not nearly as permanent as bloodstains. ”
“Focus, Salvatore. I meant what you said about brunch.”
“I do love a brunch.”
“We should invite Quinn as well.”
“Of course! We trap them with the promise of waffles, then bam!” Salvatore clapped his hands in triumph.
Arthur couldn’t help but grin. There truly was a harmony in working together with the man who always seemed to know what he was thinking even before Arthur did himself. “We get them to confess—”
“Their feelings for each other!”
“To the murder!”
They both pivoted to look at each other with pinched expressions.
“Wait, what?” they said in unison.
“Clearly they are hiding long-suffering crushes on each other,” Salvatore said, throwing his hands in the air as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I thought this was about solving the case, but you want to play matchmaker?”
Salvatore sighed dreamily. “It’ll be like The Parent Trap!”
“But they’re not our parents…and we’re not twins…”
“Shh.” Salvatore pressed a finger to Arthur’s lips. “Call it an interrogation if you must, but don’t spoil my fun. Now, I believe the security office is awaiting us. Let’s see what the recording shows.”
Arthur sighed but acquiesced. Every bone in his body itched to go back in that office and find a way to make Nora tell him the truth.
Perhaps she was innocent in all this, but she was hiding something.
Oh, how he hated an unsolved mystery. But it could wait.
At brunch tomorrow, he’d get his answers.
The security office was nearly deserted but for a single middle-aged woman with light brown skin and black hair slicked into a ponytail, wearing a navy-blue uniform, utility belt, and thick-framed glasses.
She introduced herself as Mariana in a voice aching with boredom, as though they were the only people to visit her all day. Maybe all week.
“Acting mayor said you were coming.” Mariana rolled her chair over to a computer. “Let’s take a look at the park on Thursday night. Already got the files pulled because of the break-in.”
“The break-in?” Arthur leaned in to peer over her shoulder, though he couldn’t discern much from the video thumbnails on the screen. “What break-in?”
“Here at city hall. Someone broke into Ms. Clark’s office. She was actually just here a few minutes ago to look at the footage. Too bad we didn’t get a clear shot of the culprits.”
“When did this break-in occur?”