Second Honeymoons Can Be Murder (A Baby Boomer Mystery Book 6) Page 22

  Trust Nancy to get to the crux of the matter. But I had to stop her before she offered to help him buy some expensive beachfront property in Florida. She is, after all, a Realtor.

  “Well, I’m not in the same class as Bill Gates or Warren Buffett,” Bernardo said. “But, I guess by most people’s standards, I’m considered well-off.”

  “So, you’re rich,” Nancy pressed, not willing to let the subject go until she had a real answer.

  “Yes, I’m rich now,” Bernardo said. “But I wasn’t always so wealthy. It’s only in the past five years or so that my company, Mature Property Resorts, became successful. My hotels cater to the over-fifty crowd, and I prefer to hire them as my employees, too, whenever I can. In fact, Carol, I’m very impressed with your husband. Once this terrible situation about Charlie’s death is cleared up, I plan to offer Jim a full-time job. I need a good public relations person, and he’s just the man I’ve been looking for.”

  My heart dropped to my shoes. This would mean that Jim would be working full-time, non-stop, just like he used to do when he worked at Gibson Gillespie. We’d have no family life at all. I could drop dead on the kitchen floor when he was off on a business trip, and he wouldn’t find my body for days. I choked back a sob, just thinking about it.

  I pushed those ghoulish thoughts out of my mind, saving them for another time. For now, I needed to get back on the conversation track Claire had started.

  “What about you and Charlie King?” I asked. “You were his secret money man. Why secret? What did you have to hide?”

  “You don’t understand how the entertainment business works,” Bernardo said. “It’s not who you are. It’s who the people in the industry think you are. It was Charlie’s idea to keep my investment private, not mine. He wanted to make a big comeback. Even more, he wanted to make it appear that he was doing it on his own.”

  “Why you? How did you two get together?” I asked, trying not to talk with my mouth full, as my late mother taught me.

  “As I said, my properties are targeted at Boomers. We offer wellness opportunities and amenities that most other hotels don’t. Like classes in water aerobics to help with arthritis, for example. Charlie found me online, contacted me, we met, he talked, I listened, and I was in. He was quite persuasive.”

  “And charming,” Nancy added.

  “I guess I always wanted to be in show business,” Bernardo admitted. “Investing money in The Second Honeymoon Game was as close as I could get.”

  “This is all very interesting,” I said, trying to tamp down my annoyance at Lucy, now snuggled at Bernardo’s side and gazing up at him adoringly, “but what do you know about Charlie’s death?”

  Now it was Bernardo’s turn to look uncomfortable. I realized that I had scored a direct hit.

  “Were you working in the dining room last night?” Claire asked. “Did you see us there?” She gestured at Nancy. “We were having an early dinner with my husband and Charlie. Then, Charlie got a text and dashed out. That was the last we saw of him.”

  I picked up the line of questioning. “My son is being accused of having a fight with Charlie on his way out of the dining room. Were you there? Did you see anything that contradicts that?”

  “I wasn’t there,” Bernardo said. “I’m sorry.”

  I sat back, defeated. Rats. I thought we were on to something.

  “But there is something else I should tell you,” he said. “You said that Charlie got a text and immediately left. That text was from me.”

  I jumped up and planted a big smooch on Bernardo’s cheek. “Finally, some positive information. Come on.” I grabbed the poor man’s hand and pulling him toward the door. “We have to tell Deputy Armstrong this right away. This will get Mike off her radar.”

  “I don’t see how,” Claire said, throwing her usual wet blanket on my excitement. “Even if Bernardo admits he sent Charlie a text message last night, that doesn’t prove that he and Charlie actually connected.”

  I just hate it when people are logical. It spoils everything. I shot her a dirty look and plopped back down on the sofa.

  But Claire was just getting warmed up. “My husband, Larry, is an attorney back in Connecticut,” she explained to Bernardo. “If this was an actual trial where he was the prosecuting attorney, and you were on the witness stand, I’m positive his next question would be, ‘Did you and Charlie see each other last night? And, if so, was it at the beach?’ Then he’d watch your body language to see if your answer was truthful. So, that’s what I’m asking you. Did you meet Charlie at the beach last night?”

  Bernardo shifted his position a little. I’m sure he was ready to grab his room service cart and boogie the heck out of here. Then, he made direct eye contact with Claire, and said, “Charlie and I did meet at the beach last night. We talked in the pavilion for about twenty minutes. He was going way over the budget we had agreed on for the pilot episode of the television show, and I needed to rein him in. When I left, Charlie was still there. Alive.”

  “I wonder how Deputy Armstrong will react to this information,” Claire said, looking very pleased with herself that her questioning had gone so well.

  “You just jumped to the top of her list, no matter how rich and important you are,” I added, for good measure.

  “She already knows,” Bernardo said. “I met with her a few hours ago and told her everything.” He looked at me apologetically. “She asked me if I’d seen anyone else on the beach. I told her I only saw a couple snuggling on a blanket, but I wasn’t close enough to identify them.”

  Thank goodness!

  Bernardo looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I just remembered I heard the sound of a car last night while Charlie and I were talking. But that must have been from the causeway, not the beach.”

  He glanced at his watch. I couldn’t help but notice it was a Rolex. I wondered if any of the hotel employees had picked up on that. “I have to get back.”

  “Please tell Deputy Armstrong about the car,” I said. “It may not be important, because I guess cars are always zipping up and down the causeway, even at night. But the timing may be significant.” I hope.

  Bernardo nodded. “I’ll find her right now. Again, Carol, please accept my apologies for causing you so much distress today. Being a concierge is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.”

  Chapter 43

  I don’t need Google. My husband knows everything.

  “Golly, this was good,” Nancy said, licking her fork for emphasis. “I feel better already. There’s nothing like a combination of sugar and caffeine to cheer me up.”

  “It’s too bad we didn’t think to order this when Carrie was here,” Claire added. “I bet she hasn’t had a thing to eat all day. Poor thing.”

  “You really should talk to her, Carol,” Nancy said again. “She’s probably in her villa alone sobbing her eyes out.”

  “She may be in her villa,” I said, “but I don’t think she’s alone. I’m pretty sure Mike is still with her. In fact, Carrie’s one of the things we argued about this afternoon. Remember, she’s the one who convinced Mike to lie to Deputy Armstrong.”

  “Well, I’m sure Carrie only had Mike’s best interests at heart,” Nancy said. “She was protecting him, plain and simple.”

  “I don’t agree with you,” I said, outraged that Nancy still couldn’t see my point. “Carrie wasn’t protecting Mike at all. She was making things worse for him.”

  “Now, Carol,” Claire said in that pseudo soothing tone of voice that always drives me nuts because she sounds so much like Jim, “you’re overreacting. Again. Bernardo has provided Deputy Armstrong with some pretty damaging information about his own activities last night. An argument over money is a pretty powerful motive. I think Mike’s in the clear.”

  “And don’t forget about the car Bernardo says he heard,” Nancy put in. “That could be another clue. I’m sure Deputy Armstrong will find that significant.”

  “Assuming Bernardo actually
heard a car,” I said.

  “Well, Deputy Armstrong did ask for your help this morning, Carol,” Claire pointed out. “Why don’t you see if she’s still here and have a little chat? You do have some tasty tidbits to share with her.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t dare. What if she asks me something about Mike? I can’t afford to take that chance.”

  “I still think you should find Carrie,” Nancy insisted. “Talk to her. She needs some mothering right now.”

  “I wonder what Carrie knows about her own mother’s death,” Claire said, a thoughtful look on her face. “It would be very traumatic to find out that your mom committed suicide, right?”

  “According to the obituary Mary Alice read us, the suicide happened when Carrie was a baby, so she may not know how her mother died,” I reminded Claire. “And I doubt that’s the kind of information Charlie would have shared with her. If anything, he’d protect her from ever finding out. I don’t think talking to Carrie tonight is a good idea.”

  “Honest to goodness, Carol, I could just shake you when you act like this,” Claire exploded. “You need to either talk to Carrie or Deputy Armstrong. Tonight. Deputy Armstrong isn’t looking for you. Carrie is. It seems crystal clear to me. Why are you so hesitant?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just am.”

  I thought for a few seconds and made a decision. “What the heck. I’ll call Carrie. She may not even want to see me now.”

  “Thank goodness,” Nancy said, handing me my phone and trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to every word I said.

  Fortunately, Carrie answered on the first ring. Just like she’d been waiting for my call. “Oh, Carol,” she said, sobbing, “I’m so glad to hear from you. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next hours until Dad’s memorial service. I miss him so much.”

  “What can I do to help you?” I asked, realizing that Nancy and Claire were right. Carrie was despondent and needed a mother’s shoulder to cry on. It seemed that mine was her shoulder of choice.

  “Can you meet me?” she asked. “At the beach pavilion? I want to go back to where Dad died. Maybe being there will help me. I suppose that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense, Carrie,” I said in my most soothing voice. “If that’s what you want, I’ll see you at the beach pavilion in half an hour. We’ll have a nice long talk.” I ended the conversation before Carrie could start sobbing again.

  “You’re a good person to meet her,” Nancy said; Claire nodded in agreement.

  “I don’t feel like a good person,” I said. “I feel very guilty for dragging my feet about seeing her. You were both right. She really wants to see me. She didn’t mention Mike, and I didn’t bring him up, which, of course, you know, since you heard every word I just said.”

  “It’s a nice night for a walk,” Claire said. “Do you want us to go with you?”

  “No, you two have done enough,” I said. “I’ll take the dogs with me. It’s getting dark, so I think it’s okay to bring them to the beach now. Their presence may soothe Carrie a little. I know that petting them always makes me feel better. And, heaven knows, we can all use the exercise. I’m not going to stay long. The park is probably closing soon.”

  Lucy gave me a look that telegraphed—loud and clear—that she’d had enough long walks for one day and her paws needed a rest. “After we see Carrie, I promise I’ll feed you supper. Dogs do not live on Milk Bones alone,” I said to her. “But first,” I held up the leashes, “one more quick walk.” Bribery usually works as well on my canines as it does on my humans.

  “If you’re sure you don’t want us to come with you,” Claire said, “I guess I’ll try to find my wandering husband.”

  “If you should happen to see my own dear husband, tell him hello from me,” I said.

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” Nancy said. “He’s working, remember?”

  “Yeah, we all saw how hard he was working in the dining room this afternoon,” I said with a grimace. “Come on, girls, let’s go for walkies.”

  “I know, we should have brought a flashlight,” I said to Lucy. Even in the dusk, I could tell she was giving me a dirty look. “We’re going to be walking back to the hotel in the dark. Be sure you and Ethel stick close to me and we’ll be all right. No going off and exploring on your own.”

  I stopped and let the girls peruse a particularly fascinating piece of either flotsam or jetsam (I don’t know the difference and I bet you don’t know, either), then urged them along.

  “Carol, over here.” I saw a slim figure in white shorts and a tank top waving to me from the pavilion steps. Carrie, of course. I could certainly see why Mike was attracted to her. The wind from the Gulf of Mexico made her dark hair stream around her face. She looked like a sea nymph.

  “Are you alone?” she asked.

  An odd question, to be sure.

  “Well, I have the dogs with me.” I lifted up their leashes to show her as I climbed the pavilion steps. “They needed some exercise and I hoped I could get away with bringing them to the beach at this hour. Besides, I hate to be parted from them for very long.” I laughed. “Stupid, I know. But I love them almost as much as I love my human family.”

  “I won’t tell,” Carrie said. “I love dogs.” She sat down at a picnic table and put out her hand to pet Ethel. To my embarrassment, Ethel growled at her. Yes, gentle Ethel—who never woofs an unkind word at anybody—actually growled.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, parking my derriere on a picnic bench and pulling the dogs’ leashes a little tighter. “Ethel doesn’t know you. I think you startled her. I apologize on her behalf.”

  “I guess I must be a horrible person,” Carrie said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Even dogs don’t like me. I really don’t have anybody anymore. I’m all alone.”

  She jumped up. “Will you walk with me? I want to show you something.”

  “Of course I will,” I said. “We all will. I can’t leave the dogs here alone.”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Carrie said, taking my hand and pulling me to keep pace with her. “I thought being here with you where Dad died last night would bring me some peace. Can you help me find some peace? Please! I’m begging you! I need to find some peace! You’re the only one who can help me! Please, help me!”

  By this time, Carrie was screaming at the top of her lungs. The next thing I knew, she’d grabbed the dogs’ leashes from me and started to run away with them.

  “You love these dogs?” she yelled over her shoulder at me. “Well, say goodbye to them. You’re never going to see them again. They’re coming with me. Forever. I’m going to take away your happiness, the way you took away mine. It’s all your fault. And my stupid father’s, who talked about you for years. His great grammar school love. It was your fault my mother killed herself! I hate you so much! But Dad wasn’t supposed to die in the car! It was supposed to be you! You stupid person! You ruined that, too! You couldn’t even die when you were supposed to! It should have been you in that car, not Dad! Oh, Dad, forgive me, please! It’s all Carol’s fault!”

  It took me a few seconds to process what I was hearing.

  Do something, Carol. Don’t just stand there. You have to stop her.

  But I was so stunned that everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I couldn’t move. Not a single muscle.

  I caught a brief look at Lucy’s face. She wasn’t terrified at all. She was angry. And, unlike me, she could move. And move, she did. The little smarty made a quick end run around Carrie’s legs, tangling her leash around her ankles, while Ethel went around the other way.

  In no time at all, Carrie was trapped by the leashes and tumbled down the pavilion stairs onto the sand. She landed at the feet of my darling husband, holding a flashlight and looking as scared as I felt. “I talked to Nancy. She told me where you were,” Jim said. “I decided to surprise you, but instead, you surprised me! I got here just in time.” He wrapped me in a welcomed hug.
“I heard everything Carrie said to you. Thank God you’re safe, Carol.”

  He looked down at Carrie, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey at his feet, thanks to the quick actions of my dogs, who were now standing guard over her in case she made any sudden move to escape. “I texted Deputy Armstrong. She’s on her way.”

  Carrie laughed out loud. I’d never heard anybody laugh that way. Then I realized that Carrie was losing whatever small grip on reality she had left. I knew I shouldn’t feel sorry for her, but I did. “What the hell,” she said. “I don’t care what happens to me now. My life is over. It doesn’t matter.”

  I was trembling so hard that I thought I’d never stop. “I didn’t realize anyone could hate me that much,” I said.

  Jim looked at me with such tenderness that my heart couldn’t stand it. “I love you so much, Carol. Even if I don’t say it often enough. Mike loves you, too.” He gave me a big smooch to prove it.

  “Mike?” I repeated. “You’ve seen him?”

  Jim nodded. “We finally connected a little while ago. He told me everything that happened. You were right. I should have talked to him sooner.”

  “Is Mike still mad at me?” I asked. I was almost afraid to hear Jim’s answer.

  “No, of course he’s not still mad,” Jim said. “He wants to apologize, and he’s meeting us at the villa in a little while. That’s another reason why I came looking for you.”

  Then Jim whispered in my ear, “I guess I solved the case instead of you for once, right, Carol?”

  I wanted to remind Jim that Lucy and Ethel had played a pretty important part in the case, too. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time. But why bother? He was my hero, and maybe, from his point of view, he did solve the case.

  And I knew he’d never let me forget it.

  Chapter 44

  I only drink wine to be sociable. And I can be very sociable.

  “I never suspected Carrie for a single second,” I admitted to Claire and Nancy the next morning. “But last night, after the whole horrible ordeal was over, I suddenly remembered the way she’d asked for my help in the first place. She said, ‘Why did my father die?’ What she really meant was, ‘Why did my father die instead of you?’ ” I shivered, remembering the look in Carrie’s eyes when she confronted me at the beach. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over what happened. I’ve read hundreds of mysteries; I guess last night was what’s referred to in fiction as the ‘black moment.’ Believe me, when it happens in real life, it’s black, all right. Black as death.”