Grounds for Murder Read online

  Hall, it was, and I was on her heels. I’d been afraid she’d opt to go through the bar, but when I got there, I realized why she hadn’t. The place was filled with roofers, priming themselves for the convention.

  Also in the bar, seated at a table near the door, were Kate and Jerome finishing up lunch. I saw Kate’s head follow Janalee, then she glanced back and registered my presence.

  ‘She killed LaRoche,’ I shouted as I passed.

  ‘Grab your camera, Jack,’ I heard Kate tell Jerome.

  Reinforcements – or at least documentation – were on their way. I continued my chase.

  Janalee had reached the door that led into the Grand Foyer of the convention center. She glanced over her shoulder at me, just feet behind her, and then shoved on the push bar.

  The door opened and released us into the big entry hall. Where the bar had been full, the Grand Foyer was empty. Apparently everyone had finished their set-ups and broken for a late lunch before the attendees came in. The registration table stood ready, but was unattended.

  No help was to be found inside and I was losing steam. Shouldn’t have given up those morning aerobics classes in favor of work. And sleep.

  There was only one thing to do.

  I slowed down and Janalee, thinking she was home free, made for the big revolving door. Once in the bay, she pushed hard. The door went whirling, Janalee and Davy in it.

  ‘Stop her,’ I screamed, forced to wait for the thing to slow down so I could get into it. I had to time it like I was dashing into a game of jump rope. One, two, three, GO!

  I made the plunge, but Janalee and Davy had already been propelled out the other side. I emerged just in time to see Janalee and two roofers scrambling to their feet on the other side. But where was Davy?

  ‘I have him,’ a voice to my right said. ‘And it’s a damned good thing I quit smoking, or I would have had a cigarette in my hand when they came shooting out that door. Just managed to grab the kid before Janalee went down.’

  Sarah was holding the bare-bottomed baby carefully away from her body. ‘Why’s he naked?’ she asked.

  I knew that as long as we had Davy, Janalee wouldn’t take off. Not that I was stupid enough to chance it.

  ‘Grab her,’ I said to the roofers. ‘She’s a murderer.’

  Roofers being good sports, they obliged. I looked around. Kate and Jerome were already there taping. They must have gone outside through the bar and come around to catch the action out front.

  Besides the two of them, there were seven men and women, all smoking cigarettes. Different day, different convention, different people, but you could always count on the smokers’ circle.

  And Sarah.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  By the time Amy and Antonio arrived, the police were on their way.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Amy said breathlessly. ‘I was going out to stop her like you said.’ She looked over at Janalee, who was ringed by roofers. ‘But I banged right into Antonio.’

  ‘I did not know why you had run away when we were talking,’ Antonio explained, turning to me. ‘I was concerned.’

  ‘I tried to tell him about Janalee and Marvin and the table and . . . me . . .’ Amy was tearing up.

  Antonio took up the story. ‘She began crying as she is now, so I could not understand a word she said. When she finally composed herself―’

  ‘Is Davy safe?’ Amy interrupted.

  I turned in the direction she was looking. Sarah had handed the baby to one of the roofers. As we watched, she shrugged out of her baggy jacket and wrapped the baby in it.

  ‘Strangely enough,’ I said, smiling, ‘I think he’s just fine.’

  ‘What will happen to Davy?’ I asked Pavlik. We were sitting on the steps of my porch. Pavlik was throwing the ball for Frank.

  ‘For now, he’s with Antonio,’ he said, wiping slobber off his throwing hand. ‘He’s the father, with the paternity tests to prove it.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not so sure Antonio is prepared to be a father. You should have seen his reaction to the word marriage.’

  Pavlik looked sideways at me. ‘We all have that reaction. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.’

  I laughed. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll remember that should I ever have those kind of thoughts about you.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he continued. ‘The right woman could make any man want to settle down.’

  I sensed a moment of danger. I didn’t know if I was afraid of scaring him off, or I was afraid of scaring me off. Either way, my reply was the same.

  ‘I don’t want to “settle down”,’ I said, making the quotation marks with my fingers. ‘Been there, done that.’

  ‘Me, too,’ he said cheerfully, thereby dashing my hopes that he would be inconsolable. ‘But maybe Amy is the kind of woman to get Antonio to settle down.’

  ‘Amy, huh?’ I wasn’t quite seeing it. ‘They seem like polar opposites,’ I protested. ‘Amy is heavy metal, Antonio is flamenco.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s all just music, isn’t it?’

  ‘A philosopher,’ I said, elbowing him. ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘Not yet,’ he said, kissing me lightly on the lips. ‘But you will be.’

  ‘Not still mad at me for confronting Janalee instead of coming to you?’ I asked. He’d been a bit cranky about that when he’d arrived on the scene.

  ‘I got over it.’

  Good thing neither of us held grudges. I had a feeling that might come in handy. ‘Wine?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Pavlik said. ‘Want me to get it?’

  ‘Nah.’ I stood up. ‘You create a diversion, so Frank doesn’t follow me in.’

  Frank gave me a suspicious look. He knew I was talking about him, not that he cared. The sheepdog dropped the tennis ball in Pavlik’s lap and backed up, waiting for the throw.

  ‘Diversion created,’ Pavlik said.

  ‘Yeah.’ I opened the door and went in, unimpeded. Apparently I was one rung below Pavlik on the sheepdog’s hierarchal ladder.

  Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out the Fume Blanc I’d put in to chill.

  ‘White wine?’ Pavlik said, when I handed him a glass. ‘I thought you always drank red.’

  ‘It’s an unseasonably warm Fall day,’ I said, settling down next to him. ‘I thought white would be nice.’

  I took a sip. Nice, but no Pinot Noir. I put the glass where Frank couldn’t knock it over. ‘Besides, it’s not healthy to get in a rut. Before you know it, the rut becomes an addiction.’

  ‘Addiction?’ Pavlik was studying my face.

  ‘Or maybe an obsession.’ I leaned back against the step. ‘Jerome says his father has a theory. He says we’re all addicted to something, and that’s not necessarily bad. The trick is to make sure they are good things.’ That last part I’d added.

  ‘Red wine is supposed to be good for you,’ Pavlik reminded me.

  ‘As is dark chocolate, my other guilty pleasure.’ I picked up the ball Frank had dropped in front of Pavlik and threw it. ‘Thing is, it probably wouldn’t hurt for me to cut down on both of them.’

  Pavlik swirled the wine in his glass. ‘So you’re going to switch to white wine?’

  ‘And milk chocolate,’ I said ruefully. ‘I don’t like either of them very much, so I figure I’ll naturally cut down on my consumption of both. I think of it as my answer to Sarah’s nicotine inhaler.’

  Pavlik laughed. ‘Let’s hope it’s more effective. I heard her asking one of the guys for a smoke as we were leaving.’

  ‘Not for a smoke,’ I said. ‘She was asking him to smoke. Sarah’s into second-hand smoke.’

  Pavlik just looked at me.

  ‘She’s weaning herself,’ I said. ‘What can I say?’

  The sheriff shook his head, and set his glass down next to mine. Apparently he didn’t like white much either. ‘So Sarah’s addicted to cigarettes. You, it’s red wine and dark chocolate.’

  ‘Then there’s LaRoche
.’ I’d been giving this a lot of thought. ‘His was power. He needed to control – to maneuver people like he did his toy soldiers.’

  ‘I wonder who gets custody of the soldiers.’ Pavlik looked more concerned about the soldiers than he had about Davy.

  ‘Janalee, on the other hand,’ I continued, ignoring him, ‘lives for her child. That’s what you would call a good addiction, I guess.’

  ‘Until you murder someone,’ Pavlik said dryly.

  Yeah, there was that.

  ‘Let’s see. Who else?’ Pavlik was getting into the swing of things. ‘Levitt and Amy – alcohol, of course,’

  I threw him a startled look.

  ‘What?’ he said. ‘You seriously thought I didn’t know? I am the sheriff after all.’ He patted himself on the chest.

  I shook my head. ‘OK, wise guy. If you know so much, tell me why you said Antonio and Amy could become a couple.’

  I liked the thought of the two of them raising Davy – or David, as Antonio called him – and living happily every after. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

  ‘Stranger things have happened,’ Pavlik said, wrestling the ball away from Frank. ‘Though I have to say I’m a little confused about Amy and Janalee’s relationship.’

  ‘I know. But like Antonio said –’ I affected his accent – ‘“A casual friendship, a great love – who are we on the outside to know? ”’

  ‘Horrible Italian accent,’ Pavlik said, ‘but I get your point.’

  ‘Besides, I don’t think things are as clear cut as they were when we were young,’ I said, settling back against the step. ‘Eric says that kids are exploring their sexuality more these days. Gay, straight, bi-sexual – whatever.’

  Pavlik was teasing the dog, now, pretending to throw the ball. ‘I’m probably engaging in a little wishful thinking, anyway, about those two.’

  ‘Which two? Amy and Janalee, or Amy and Antonio?’

  ‘The latter.’ Pavlik faked another toss and hid the ball behind me on the step.

  ‘You don’t want Amy to be gay?’ I asked, trying to push the slimy ball away from me.

  ‘I don’t want Antonio to be available.’ He turned toward me. ‘You seem to find him altogether too charming.’

  ‘He,’ I said, pulling the tennis ball out from behind my now drool-stained back, ‘doesn’t slime me.’

  ‘I could be charming and slime you. Try me.’ Pavlik leaned down to kiss me.

  ‘And how about you, Sheriff?’ I said afterwards, a little breathlessly. ‘What’s your addiction?’

  ‘My addiction?’ He was looking into my eyes. ‘I think you―’

  WHUMP! Frank had found the tennis ball.

  In an effort to get to it, the dog landed on Pavlik. Pavlik, in turn, fell on top of me, pinning me to the steps.

  A sheepdog and sheriff sandwich.

  I was just never going to have sex.