Murder in March Read online

  "You know this will go national, don't you?" said Beth, not unkindly. She pushed a coffee towards me and the paper bag. I unfolded it and pulled out a croissant. It smelled delicious but I couldn't appreciate it.

  "By the end of today, everyone is going to know who I am!"

  "On the plus side, it's unlikely it will hurt your sales," said Mark.

  "Hurrah," I said flatly. "Everyone is going to line up to buy more books from the single cat lady."

  "I think you're both ignoring something very important," said Beth. We both turned to look at her. "Someone tipped the newspaper off about you. See the bit about the memo right at the start? There's even a photo inset of it."

  I grabbed the paper again, squinting at it. "That's Esther's handwriting," I said. "It's the heading on her notepaper and it looks like she was writing a note."

  "Where could someone get that?"

  "The hotel?" I wondered. "Could she have left it on her desk or thrown it in the trash?"

  "A nosy housekeeper is the least of that hotel's worries," pointed out Beth.

  "All the same, there's no way I can go anywhere without someone noticing me now," I said. "I can't interview anyone now."

  Mark nodded. "Maybe it's a good thing Sam told us we have to stay put until he gets in touch again."

  Mark was right. I didn't need to go out but I would have to leave the apartment at some time. Then I would be forced to face the barrage of questions and the cross or suspicious looks from people I'd known all my life. They would demand to know why I hadn't shared my secret life with them. Several mentioned Miranda Marchmont to me in recent days. Holly. Janey. Jaclyn at the café. They would probably think I was laughing at them. I felt terrible. On the plus side, Soulla Jenkins was probably seething.

  My cellphone rang. "That must be Sam," I said, walking over with the coffee cup in hand. The caffeine made me feel better. Despite the assertion that I would sleep well last night, I hadn't. I tossed and turned, thinking about the man who was attacked. My thoughts were interspersed with the warm memory of kissing Mark, and the kisses only deepened as he returned them. I'd been afraid one of us would be embarrassed in the morning but when I got up, Mark was already awake and reading. He immediately put down the manuscript and hugged me, offering me the most tender of morning kisses.

  The thought of him leaving made my stomach twist painfully.

  I pressed answer and said, "Hello?"

  "Hello? Ava?" It wasn't Detective Logan.

  "Yes. Who's this?"

  "Derrick. Derrick Drummond."

  "Derrick! I'm so glad you called. I wanted to say how sorry I was in person."

  "I wanted to speak to you too. I'm sorry I left it for a few days. I wasn't in any state when... when..." He broke off, his voice shuddering and gruff.

  "Please don't apologize," I told him. I waved to Mark, indicating I would take the call on the other side of the room. I didn't feel the need for privacy but I did want to speak to Derrick without being distracted. "I'm so sorry about what happened to Esther. It's just terrible. Mark and I were so shocked."

  "I'm sure. The police told me you found my wife. That must have been terrible for you. I wish you didn't have to go through that."

  "I only wish I'd gotten there a little earlier. I could have scared them..."

  "Don't you even go down that road," interrupted Derrick. "You could have been hurt too. If Esther couldn't defend herself, a little, bitty thing like you couldn't either. I hope Mark has been supportive? He's a pretty good fellow."

  "Yes, he's been great." I wondered if Derrick knew about Mark's arrest. I decided if he didn't bring it up, neither would I. I did not want Derrick to think Mark had anything to do with it. "If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me. I know the hotel shipped Esther's things home but if you can think of anything else."

  "I hope you'll come for the funeral. I know Esther would appreciate it."

  "She would?" I couldn't keep the skepticism out of my voice.

  "Of course she would. Esther liked you."

  "She did?" Now I was fully skeptical.

  Derrick chuckled. "Well, she didn't actively hate you so I'd take that as a like and Esther couldn't tolerate a lot of people."

  "I know she loved you," I told him.

  "Yes, she sure said she did. I was a lucky man to get a second chance with a woman as formidable as her," he said, his voice oddly flat.

  "A second chance?"

  "I was married once before. It was a good marriage, and my wife was a good person, but we got married too young and I admit, my eye roved. Esther made me feel on top of the world. She led this big, amazing life, and I'm not proud of it, but I left my first wife for her. Esther and I have been married nearly eighteen years."

  "Did you meet her in San Francisco?" I asked.

  "Yes, that's right. I lived there with Ondine. That was my first wife. We met at Berkeley and married the same week we graduated. Too young. Or maybe just too idealistic."

  "That's an unusual name."

  "Her parents were very well-educated hippies. It means little wave, or something like that. She hated it and always wanted to be called Dina but I thought Ondine was pretty."

  "Dina?" I whispered. Had I heard that correctly?

  "Yeah, she said Dina sounds like a fun person. Ondine sounded too serious."

  "What was Dina's maiden name?" I asked.

  "Preston. Why?"

  "I have to call you back," I said, breathing so hard, I was afraid I would drop the phone. I hung up before Derrick could say another word. He didn't need to. I thought I understood everything now, or at least a very big part of it. I turned to Mark and Beth who both watched me with concerned eyes. "I know who killed Esther," I said, "and now I think I know why."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My mind whirled as I paced the living room while Mark and Beth watched me. I filled them in on the short conversation with Derrick and they agreed it sounded suspicious. What were the chances that the Dina Preston Derrick divorced for Esther wasn't the same Dina we knew? It seemed so remote a possibility that it couldn't be true. "We need to find Detective Logan," I told him. "He has to know the killer has been right under our noses this whole time."

  "Already dialing," said Mark. He held his cellphone to his ear and waited. "There's no dial tone. The call keeps going straight to messages."

  "He's probably still at the hospital in Halliwell," I decided.

  "We should call one of the other officers and have someone sent to the hotel."

  I shook my head. "On the off chance that we're wrong, we'd just be interfering with the investigation. I think we should speak to Janey. She knows Dina well. If she can fill in some of the blanks about her background, we can confirm if the Dina here is the same Dina that Derrick was first married to. Esther must have recognized her!"

  "That cannot have gone down well," said Beth. We both turned to look at her. "Oh, yeah," she said, realizing. "Maybe it went really bad."

  "As soon as we know for certain, we can call the police," said Mark with a nod. "Let's go."

  "Wait! Won't I be recognized? My face is on the cover of the newspaper!"

  "I think you should go before everyone reads it," said Beth.

  "It's too late to worry about that," agreed Mark. "Besides, maybe you can use the newspaper story as the reason to go and see Janey. Tell her you're sorry for not telling her your true identity before and you want to make it up."

  "You know why that's so good?" I asked him. Before he could answer, I said, "Because it's true!"

  "We can use my car." Mark and I grabbed our coats and headed downstairs, waving to Beth. He pulled open the apartment door and we darted to his car without a single person pointing at me and shouting liar! It was a sweet relief although I was sure it wouldn't last.

  While he drove, I held my own hands, nervously wringing them, my thoughts continuing to whirl around like a cyclone. Dina had access to everything in the hotel. She could easily have avoided the came
ras in her own hotel, knowing it would be suspicious if they were suddenly erased. Esther wouldn't have thought anything of answering the door to her if she hadn't recognized her, or maybe even after she did since Esther was overheard calling Dina a “loser,” clearly indicating what she thought of the hotel manager. Esther probably thought nothing had changed and Dina was of no interest to her except so Esther could belittle her and tear her down an extra piece, even after she married Derrick. Did Esther have no shame? I knew that was unlikely. Esther was always Esther's number one person, breezing through life, taking whatever she wanted without caring about the consequences. I wondered now how much of my career depended on her ball-busting attitude, a concept that made me increasingly uncomfortable.

  Turning my thoughts back to the hotel, I tried to work out what could have happened. Dina would have had no trouble grabbing a knife from the kitchen, or stealing the manuscript from Esther's room, or even planting a typed sheet in Mark's room. She wouldn't even need to use gloves. Her fingerprints were all over the hotel and she probably had a master key.

  By the time we pulled up to the Maple Tree Hotel, I was ready with a list of accusations that I could pass on to Detective Logan. I was sure if we had the right person, he would have no problem proving it once he knew where to look.

  "Is that Dina?" Mark asked, pointing to a car pulling out of the hotel's lot and making the turn. I caught sight of the glossy, brown hair falling to her shoulders.

  "It looks like her and that's the employee parking area."

  "Do you think she's making a getaway?"

  "I don't know. If it's her and her plan to incriminate us fails, she might run." I tried to think fast. "You should follow her and find out where she goes. If it looks like she's leaving town, call the police."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Question Janey."

  "I don't think I should leave you alone."

  "Dina's already gone. I'll be fine. I'll call you as soon as I know for sure."

  "Okay." Mark nodded. "Be careful."

  "You too." I hopped out of the car and strode into the hotel behind a large party, all carrying suitcases and extra bags. The atmosphere was jovial and I wondered if they were attending a function or a conference. I skipped ahead of them since I wasn't encumbered with baggage and made a beeline for the desk.

  Janey looked up and for a moment, I wasn't sure if she would smile or scowl. She settled on a polite mask that could have been intended for any person she didn't know. I hurt her feelings and she was too proud to admit it. "Janey, I want to apologize," I told her. "I'm sure you've seen the newspaper and you probably think I lied to you but..."

  She leaned in, her eyes wide. "So, it's true?" she whispered loudly. "You are Miranda Marchmont?!"

  "I am." I braced myself for whatever Janey had to say but instead of being cross, she got up and ran around the counter and hugged me. "This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me!" she gushed, breathlessly delighted. "This is more than thrilling!"

  "It is?" I frowned.

  "You bet it is! Who would have thought little, ol' me, Janey Packton, would be friends with an amazing author like Miranda Marchmont? It must have been so hard to keep it quiet! I mean, everyone has been going nuts over your new book and you just have to sit there and pretend you know nothing about it. Now we can all celebrate with you!"

  "Well, I..." My jaw dropped at her unexpected delight.

  "You should throw a huge party," said Janey. "I heard you've never even had a launch party. You have to have a launch party. I don't know what they are exactly but you should definitely do it." She clapped her hands in excitement.

  "I think I will," I decided on the spur of the moment, Janey's infectious excitement prompting my subsequent agreement. A smile spread across my face. "That could be fun. Really fun." But would anyone else attend?

  "Could be? It will be the talk of the town! I'm so glad I met you."

  "Me too. I hate to ask but I hoped you could help me with something else."

  "Sure! Anything!"

  "It's personal."

  "Come this way," Janey said, indicating I should follow her through the employee door. She motioned for one of the other employees to take over her desk and deal with the waiting party.

  "As you've probably worked out, I wasn't Esther's typist. She was my agent..."

  "And Mr. Boudreaux is your publisher." Janey nodded. "I put it all together as soon as I saw the newspaper."

  "So you understand what it means to me to find out who killed Esther and tried to frame Mark." I waited for Janey to nod, then continued. "I think Dina might be connected somehow and I wondered if you could tell me more about her. Do you know her very well?"

  "I've known her for the three years I've been here and she's always been very supportive. Like I told you, she gave me a break when no one else would. I owe her a lot."

  "Do you know if Dina is short for anything? Or if Preston is her married name?" Something told me it wasn't, that Derrick provided everything I needed to know, but I had to ask to be sure.

  "I don't think so. I've always called her Dina and that's how her mail is addressed. I think she was married once but I don't know if Preston is her married name or not. It's Derry's surname too so maybe Preston came from Derry's dad?"

  "Have you ever seen Dina's husband? Derry's dad?"

  "No, never. I don't think Derry has either. She mentioned once that it was just the two of them and she never met her dad."

  "Did Dina grow up here?"

  "No, I'd know if she had. I think she came from California actually. San Diego, maybe? No. San Francisco!"

  Jackpot! My conversation with Dina popped into my head. She had also told me that she once lived there with Derry. "Why did she move here?"

  "She started here as assistant manager and took over as manager seven years ago. I know she worked a lot of hotel jobs and this was a good offer. She said Calendar was a great place to bring up a kid. Derry must have been five or six when they first moved here." Janey searched my face. "Is that what you needed to know? I can't think why it's important."

  I ignored that. I didn't want to explain everything until I'd spoken to Detective Logan and was sure. Instead I asked, "Where was Dina going just now?"

  "Going? Dina hasn't gone anywhere."

  "But I saw her driving out of the parking lot..." I started as Janey's name was called from the lobby.

  "I'll be right back," she said. "Stay there. I want to hear everything about your exciting life!" Janey darted through the door and it closed behind her, leaving me alone in the hallway. Above me, a footstep sounded on the stairs. Then another and another. A chill ran through my spine at the silence but for the steps. I knew I wasn't alone.

  "Don't even think about running after Janey," said Dina, her voice cold and somewhere above me. The footsteps quickened and she stepped into the hallway. "I heard all your questions. I know you know."

  "I was just curious," I said quickly.

  "Oh, please. You've been sniffing around ever since Esther died. Let's go into my office."

  "No."

  "It's not optional." There was a small click and I looked down, noticing for the first time the small handgun Dina held in her hand. "Move."

  I darted a glance towards the door several feet away. There was no way I could make it if she decided to shoot, but would she? "If you shoot me, everyone will hear," I told her. "There's a big group of people in the lobby."

  "I'm not going to shoot you. I'm going to shoot the first person who walks through that door behind you and you can have that branded on your conscience for as long as you live. My guess is it will be Janey."

  I swallowed hard. She was right. I couldn't live with the idea of Janey, or anyone else, being hurt because of me. "Okay, okay. I'm going."

  "Hurry," said Dina. As I passed her, she poked the gun in my back. "Put your hands on your head and keep them there where I can see them."

  I raised my hands, folding them acros
s the top of my head as Dina frogmarched me into her office at the other end of the hallway. She nudged me towards her desk, creating space between us. "You can turn around now," she said. "But no sudden movements or I'll shoot."

  "How will you explain shooting me?" I asked, more out of curiosity than bravado. Also, it gave me time to look around for something I could use as a weapon to defend myself as she spoke. Slowly, I turned around. Next to the door was a filing cabinet and next to that a pair of floor-to-ceiling bookcases laden with books and files and a lovely framed photograph of her and her daughter. Both were so similar with their dark hair. Of course! We hadn't seen Dina leave; we saw Derry! She'd straightened her hair to look like her mom's. My heart sank when I thought that Mark was following her on a wild goose chase. Behind me, my legs pressed against the desk that was clear of everything except for a desk phone. Dina's remarkable tidiness left me with nothing to grab. I doubted I could subdue her very long by throwing the desk phone. I didn't even know how long the cord was!

  "I'll tell them how you killed Esther, set up Mark as a distraction, and finally decided you'd better get rid of me too. I've worked here for years. You think someone hasn't tried to attack me before? I bought this gun five years ago for self-defense after some lunatic rampaged through the hotel and assaulted two employees."

  I remembered that. It was front page news. I recalled how the manager turned a fire safety cylinder on the man to subdue him, coating him in foam and temporarily blinding him as he flailed around, smashing things. She received a bravery award from the mayor. A bonafide heroine protecting herself from a murderer? It was a smart tactic. What were the odds that Dina could convince everyone that was the truth, especially if the town already thought I was a liar? The idea of Mark believing I tried to set him up brought tears to my eyes.

  "Why did you kill Esther?" I asked. "Was it because she ran away with Derrick? Your husband?"

  "So you know about that too? Yes, Derrick and I were married once. I met him when I was nineteen. He was a little older than me, already in graduate school, but he swept me off my feet. We married as soon as we graduated and everything was perfect. We didn't have much but our little apartment was a happy home. I got my first job. He planned to work hard at his publishing firm for a couple of years, then start his own business so we would buy a house and have a family. We were going to have a wonderful life until she came along," Dina finished with a sneer.