Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Alden took a sip of his black brew and regarded his laptop. He’d typed up a very rough draft of a story that left out way more than it said. And he needed to know what Roz got before they could publish anything. He picked up his phone to text her.
How’d it go with the Esquivels?
She responded a few minutes later.
We should talk.
Let’s meet.
Bean Me Up?
Already there.
Of course you are. See you in ten.
He had time to order her a mocha before she arrived; this time of the afternoon, there were only a couple of people at separate tables, wrapped up in their computers.
The big windows filled the place with afternoon light that made the space art glow, and a mix of folk and alternative rock played over the speakers.
The door jingled as Roz rolled in, wearing a different outfit from what she’d had on at lunch. Whatever she wore, she made his heart fizz. She strolled over to his table in the back corner, which sat under a big streak shot of a nighttime rocket launch. He stood and kissed her on the cheek.
“I missed you,” Alden told Roz.
“You’ve been too busy to miss me.” She plunked her bag on the floor and sat in the chair next to his.
“That’s your answer?” he said as he settled in his chair.
She gave him a shy look. “I missed you, too.” She eyed the paper cup he pushed toward her. “Do I smell mocha? You’re the best.” She scooped it up and took a long sip.
Alden eyed her with skepticism. “How is it that I am the more sentimental one in this relationship? I’m the cynic.”
“Are you still a cynic?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted.
“Cynics are basically idealists who are jaded by a world that doesn’t share their values. Which is the standard journalist headspace,” Roz said.
“Cynics are also broken romantics.”
“That too. Which are you?”
“Both.” He slipped one hand behind her neck, leaned in and covered her mouth with his. He lingered in the kiss, tasting her sweetness, feeling her respond. Coffee and chocolate and heat.
They parted, and Roz made a little whimpering sound. And let out a sigh.
He could hear her make those sounds all day. Or all night. He grinned, expecting a lecture about public displays of affection, but she just looked up at him under her eyelashes with a coy half smile before she reached down to dig her computer out of her bag.
“Are you writing?” she asked, nodding at his open laptop on the table.
“Trying to draft some kind of story. It’s not easy. Mae told me a lot but kept asking me to keep it off the record. I only have a few bland nuggets about Wayne’s personality and Enolia being awesome. And guess what? Enolia is her aunt.”
“What? For real?”
“For real,” Alden said. “That’s one reason Enolia did a signing in our little town. And Mae—who says hi, by the way—told me Enolia promised to invest in the bookshop, which needs cash. She didn’t say it was a dire situation, but that was the impression I got.”
“And Mae knew Wayne?”
“A little. She said he was likable and handsome. She might’ve even gotten a little flustered when she said that, but I could be imagining things.”
Roz stared at Alden. “Do you think she had a thing for Wayne Vandershell?”
“I don’t know. What did you get from the Esquivels? Did you find Wayne’s partner?”
Roz’s face lit up. “Sebastian Esquivel didn’t just direct me to Wayne Vandershell’s partner—he is the partner. Or was.”
“No kidding. And they were working on a movie studio?”
Roz nodded. “But they didn’t get that far, partly because Wayne wasn’t meeting his financial obligations.
Though apparently he had hopes of raising money to make the project go forward.
They even built part of an outdoor set to entice potential investors, though Sebastian never saw any come through.
He said he would show us around and we can take photos. ”
Alden smirked. “That’s awfully nice of him.”
“Your cynicism is showing. You think he’s being open about the studio so we won’t look into other things?”
“I distrust anything that’s so easy. But I’m willing to go.”
“Good. I’ll contact him in a bit to see when we can do it.
” A tiny wrinkle formed in her brow. “And this is kind of weird, but when Nicole took her kids to the bathroom prior to Enolia’s signing, apparently she left them all in there alone for a few minutes while she disappeared. I’m wondering where she went.”
“Who told you that?”
“The oldest boy, who’s only about five. I know, not a reliable source.”
Alden crossed his arms and leaned back, thinking. “So she could’ve gone to see Wayne? Why?”
“I don’t know. I hope it wasn’t for romantic reasons. Sebastian seemed like a nice guy. Except he got pretty angry talking about Wayne. And I think part of the reason is Nicole. And this part was off the record—”
“Of course it was.”
Roz chuckled. “I know. Anyway, Wayne promised to produce Nicole’s screenplay if Sebastian agreed to the movie studio deal, which apparently wasn’t the best contract Sebastian ever signed.
He didn’t want to tell her that’s why he agreed to partner up with Wayne.
He was just trying to make her dream come true. ”
All of this skulduggery hurt Alden’s head. “Did you ask her whether she went to see Wayne in back of the bookstore Saturday morning?”
“No. She was busy with the kids, and my interview with Sebastian was over. I want to know more before I bring it up.”
“So you haven’t talked to Duke again?”
“Ooo, good point.” She took another sip of her mocha, then dredged her phone out of her bag and tapped the screen.
She held it to her ear, and Alden got to hear very little of the conversation, with Roz’s short answers and questions and Duke inaudible.
But her eyebrows seemed to lift higher with every answer.
By the time she finished the call, he couldn’t contain his curiosity. “Tell me.”
She set the phone on the table and looked around to make sure no one was too close. Then she leaned in and spoke low. “We can’t publish this yet, but that vape pen didn’t just explode. One, they think the battery was tampered with.”
“Whoa.” Alden leaned in, too. “So it’s murder?”
“Or at least malice aforethought. And they found marks on the body that indicated he’d probably been struck on the head and arms. Bruises and cuts. Maybe a fight. Maybe defensive wounds.”
“Okaaaay … and that means what? He was attacked by the same person who sabotaged the vape pen?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. He might’ve gotten in a scuffle before he even showed up at the signing. But I wonder—if the vape pen was somehow damaged in a fight, would that have hastened its demise?”
“And Wayne’s?” Alden said.
“Could be. Fight aside, damaging the vape pen’s battery with the intention to cause harm—I’m not even sure what charge that would be, but it sure looks like murder.”
“Poor Wayne. If only it had been his groin.”
Roz laughed, then covered her mouth. “You’re so bad.”
“That’s why you like me. So we’re looking for a killer and also maybe someone else who hit him and hurried things along.”
“I guess we are. They could be one and the same person. Someone was very, very angry with Wayne Vandershell.”
“Oh!” Alden exclaimed. “I almost forgot to tell you—I was nosing around the crime scene, or whatever it was, and found one of Enolia’s books in the recycling bin.
Her new one. I had to borrow some gloves from Lily”—Alden nodded at the counter, where the barista was filling an order—“just to make sure I didn’t contaminate it. ”
“Are you saying this is evidence? If it is, we need to give it to Duke.”
“Will you quit sucking up to Duke?”
She laughed. “He gave us some good details.”
“That we can’t publish.”
“We can still say a source at the sheriff’s office says foul play may be involved. So what’s the story with the book?”
“You can give it to Duke,” Alden said grudgingly. He reached under the table and pulled up the book, now in a clean zip-lock bag (also thanks to Lily). “I looked at it earlier. It’s Enolia Honeywood’s brand-new novel.”
“I can see that.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Yes, except it doesn’t look brand-new. It looks, shall we say, used. Scuffed around the edges. Dirty. And there are sticky notes and highlighted pages in it.”
“Maybe somebody liked to take notes when they were reading but didn’t want to keep it when they were done. Is it signed?”
Alden shook his head. “I think this is Enolia’s copy.”
Roz sat up. “How so?”
“Mae told me Enolia forgot her marked-up copy and had to borrow another one for the reading. I think this is the marked-up copy.”
“So how did it end up in the recycling bin? Did someone steal it? Or did she put it there?”
“That’s something we’re going to have to find out,” Alden said. “So who do we talk to next? Before we talk to Enolia again, of course. And Craig, her assistant. Mae says he lives above her garage. He has to know where all the bodies are buried, so to speak.”
“I agree we should learn more before we talk to her again,” Roz said. “Sebastian gave me another lead. Wayne apparently told him he planned to put Blake Burbage into a movie.”
“Did he now?” Alden smiled. “I love talking to movie stars. And now Blake and I are buddies.”
“After ten minutes of chatting at the book signing?”
“We men are shallow. We don’t need a deep conversation to be friends.”
Roz snorted. “Sounds about right. Are you friendly enough to have his phone number?”
Alden winced. “Well …”
“Maybe one of those other guys he was with has his number.”
Alden thought for a moment. “Yeah. One was a golf pro at Vesper Lakes. He’s given me dish before. Let me try him.”
“Great. And I’ll ping Sebastian. And then we’ll write something up for the web so John’s head doesn’t explode.”