Chapter 7 #2
“I got here as fast as I could after he texted. I didn’t see anyone on foot or driving away, but there’s plenty of property out back where someone might have escaped.”
The other homes near the Sugarbaker estate were sizable, but their perimeters bled into one another.
Bates said, “Uh, Zach, I think you should see this.” He held something gold and shiny in the palm of his hand. “I found it by a leg of the foyer table.”
I couldn’t make it out from this distance and wondered if the picture I snapped had captured it.
Zach took the item from his partner and said. “Go outside. Call for backup.”
Bates followed the directive.
Zach regarded me, his mouth screwed up in an unappealing way. “Why would you say yes to catering a party for Jason Gardner?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not following.”
“Yesterday you said you wanted to oppose the mall he was building. You were very upset.”
“Yes, I was, but I got over that.”
He gazed at Jason’s lifeless body. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Get over it?”
I tilted my head. “What are you implying? Are you accusing me of murdering him? Zach, get real.”
“You said the spearpoint could be from your collection.”
“If it is, I didn’t bring it here. Are you going to accuse Bates, since he owns a few? One could be missing from his place.”
“Can you explain this?” Zach opened his fist. In his palm lay a gold Celtic knot dangle earring. “Look familiar?”
My insides snarled. “It’s not mine, and you’ll notice … no earrings.” I cupped a hand behind one ear.
“You’re wearing your necklace.”
“As well as the Celtic knot ring Marigold bequeathed me.” I had Celtic heritage on my mother’s side, which favored the more talkative Irish nature than the direct and economical English personality. “No earrings.”
“Maybe you had them on, but you and Gardner struggled, and your earring fell off. You couldn’t retrieve it before we arrived, so you slipped the matching earring into your pocket.”
“Want to pat me down?” I asked testily, turning sidewise and motioning to my pants pockets. “Feel free to probe.”
“Don’t take an attitude.”
“Look, a week ago I lost an earring similar to the one you’re holding while I was making deliveries. I haven’t worn the other since.”
“Uh-huh.”
I glowered at him. “You don’t truly think I killed him, do you?”
He didn’t reply. I could see he was weighing the possibility. The evidence was mounting. The earring. The spearpoint. Me rashly coming to the house alone.
After a long moment, he said, “No, I don’t.”
“Thank you for your reticent vote of confidence. I swear I came because Jason texted me to come over.”
“Let me see your phone.”
Pulling it from my pocket, I remembered the text thread had mysteriously disappeared, and my gut wrenched. Zach would think I’d lied. Shoot!
“Zach,” Bates said from the doorway. “A few neighbors are outside wondering what’s going on.”
Zach strode to the front door and came to a stop just over the threshold. Granted a brief reprieve, I followed him and peeked around his torso. At least ten people, some in jackets and pants, others in robes or pajamas, stood facing the house.
“I heard a scream!” yelled a woman younger than me. “It was faint but shrill.” In her pink jumper, her hair swooped into a messy bun, she reminded me of Pinkie, a cuddly stuffed bunny my nana gave me when I was six.
“Was it a man or woman, miss?” Zach asked.
“Woman. I’m sure of it.”
“It wasn’t me,” I whispered.
Zach cut me a look.
“I didn’t scream.” Or had I?
“I heard a dog bark at eleven thirty,” said an elderly man in overalls. He was barefoot. Glasses perched atop his balding head.
“We hear dogs barking all the time,” a younger man said.
“Not at this time of night,” the elderly man said.
Zach said, “What kind of dog, Mr.—”
“Smith. Ed Smith. A medium-sized dog is my guess. You know, it sounded like this.” He imitated a throaty bark. “Sort of muted, I suppose, but anything from this distance would sound muffled.”
“Folks, did any of your animals bark?” Zach asked the crowd.
They all shook their heads.
“Did any of you scream?” he asked.
A chorus of noes followed.
I said sotto voce, “Zach, I got a series of texts from Jason, the third at eleven thirty-five. I remember the time because I was so tired after going to the vet.”
“Why were you at the vet?”
“Darcy hurt himself.” I gestured to the foyer, where I’d left the cat in his carrier.
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll survive. Thanks for asking. But back to … this.”
This. Jason Gardner … dead. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
I pressed on. “Like I told you, when I received the text saying it was urgent, I came right over. I arrived within ten minutes.”
“Mr. Smith, are you sure of the time?” Zach turned back to the elderly man.
“Yup. I was watching the nightly news. There’s a whole lot going on in the world these days. Not safe, you know. Lots of upheaval. Gotta watch the news to stay on top of things.”
I hadn’t heard a dog bark, but I’d arrived after the time frame Mr. Smith outlined.
“Thank you, sir.” Zach held up a hand. “Everyone, please give your statements to Detective Bates.”
Bates strode down the steps to the neighbors. The EMTs were standing beside their vehicle, awaiting further instructions. I imagined the police would have to release the body before they could transport it to wherever they needed to take it.
“Allie, let me see your phone,” Zach said for the second time.
“Yeah, that’s the thing. The text thread is gone.” Quickly, I added, “I didn’t erase it. It just vanished. Jason must have deleted it.”
“He could erase texts off his phone,” Zach said, “but he couldn’t off of yours. The texts would still be there.”
“I’m not making up the exchange. It’s the reason why I phoned him. To ask what was wrong.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped the screen to access my recent calls list. It showed I’d dialed Jason’s number. “Here’s my response. Time-stamped eleven thirty-six.”
“Doesn’t prove anything,” Zach said.
His curt tone irked me. Was he, yet again, questioning my veracity? That said a whole heck of a lot about our friendship.
“I want to believe you,” he said, as if reading my mind.
“Then do.”
He pivoted to return inside.
I trailed him. “See the mud on the floor and the runner? Jason has mud on his shoes.”
“So?”
“Maybe he went outside. It’s a beautiful evening.
He could’ve gone to look at the stars, spied a menacing trespasser, and raced through the gardens to escape.
If the killer followed him, there might be footprints in one of the flower beds.
The soil should be wet. The sprinklers were on when I arrived. ”
“My team will check it out.”
I eyed Jason’s phone. “Could you please review his phone for the texts?”
He lifted it and was unable to open it. “Password protected.”
Swell. I glanced at the foyer table. If the Celtic knot earring was, indeed, the mate to mine, how had it gotten here?
Only one explanation came to mind. The killer found it the day I lost it, and, seeing the matching one dangling from my earlobe, knew it belonged to me and brought it to the scene.
Where could that have taken place? Ragamuffin?
Blessed Bean? Big Mama’s Diner? I had been furiously making deliveries and hadn’t noticed it missing until dinnertime.
I’d run into just about everyone I knew at one place or another. Even Zach.
I bent down to look beneath the table, hoping I could divine the answer.
“Allie, don’t touch anything,” Zach cautioned.
“I haven’t.” Other than the murder weapon, I thought glumly. “I won’t,” I added, revising my answer. I spotted something glistening beneath the table, close to the wall. It looked like another piece of jewelry. “Zach, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” He crouched to have a look.
“See it?”
He rose, shoved the foyer table away from the wall, and retrieved the item. It was a cuff link with a cursive letter J on it.
Jason’s. Not the killer’s. Dang.