LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

At the moment, I didn’t feel much like partying, and Samantha, Misty, Hooligan, and Brent probably didn’t, either. Maybe by Thursday evening, we would feel more like ourselves. Our fire chief, Scott Ritsorf, was also invited to Samantha’s potluck. The six of us always had a good time together. Thursday evening, with Rich’s death still on the minds of most of us, we might lean on one another emotionally more than usual.

      Brent disconnected and asked me, “Can you wait for me in your car? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

      “Okay.”

      Hooligan came out of the tent. Brent went the rest of the way down the hill to him, and they talked in low voices. Hooligan climbed toward Terri and the man I guessed was Rich’s neighbor. Brent joined Misty inside the tent. The ambulance chugged up the hill, away from Lake Fleekom and the patient the EMTs weren’t able to revive.

      I trudged up to the donut car. The two police officers who had arrived when Misty and Hooligan did were chatting with Rich’s arriving guests, probably taking names, addresses, and phone numbers before sending them away. Both officers were occasional patrons at Deputy Donut. Cheryl and Steve were already gone. I told one of the officers that Brent had asked me to wait for him in my car.

      He glanced from my donut hat to my donut car, nodded, and waved the next car forward.

      I climbed into the donut car’s driver’s seat and fiddled with the keys in the ignition. The car smelled like coffee and the chocolate and vanilla in the Boston cream donuts. Ordinarily I loved those aromas. I cranked down the driver’s window and then flung myself across the wide bench seat to reach the handle for the passenger window. I rolled that window down, too, and opened the little vent on my side.

      About a half hour later, Brent slipped into the passenger seat. “Can you finish telling me all about it, Em?”

      “The ambulance left without him. He’s dead, right?”

      He ran his fingers through the hair above his forehead. “He has been for, I’m guessing, since before you left Deputy Donut. The medical examiner is on his way.”

      I described finding Rich and told Brent I hadn’t been able to see the boat or boats I’d heard on the mist-covered lake. “Tom said that Rich’s wife drowned out there about twenty years ago.”

      “That case was before I joined the Fallingbrook Police Department, but I heard about it. You and I definitely need to go kayaking on Lake Fleekom.”

      “But not when it’s slushy.” I gave Brent every detail I remembered of Rich’s two dates in Deputy Donut, of the quarrel between Derek and Rich, and of Derek’s threats. I described the unsigned and undated wills in Rich’s cottage; the previous will made out to Rich’s parents, both of whom had since died; the notebook recording rentals in the desk drawer where I’d found Derek’s last name, Bengsen; and the sooty gash in the kitchen wall. “Another thing we saw in Rich’s cottage kitchen, besides the skillet that made that gash, was a platter like the one that is now in pieces near his body. That platter might have been the murder weapon, if there was one, but I’m guessing that the skillet would have done more damage.”

      Brent gave me a terse nod. “You didn’t see the side of his head that was on the ground?”

      “No.”

      “I’m betting on the skillet, also, but the postmortem will tell me more. The platter could have been broken by accident or in a fight.”

      Picturing Rich attempting to defend himself with one of his prize platters and some sliced Boston brown bread, I was overwhelmed by sadness for the man and his senseless death. I gave Brent the key and directions to Rich’s cottage. “The donuts and coffee he ordered for the party are still in the rear seat. Want some?”

      “A coffee would be great.”

      We got out. The two officers were standing at the ends of the circular driveway, in front of the open gates. A minivan was coming down the hill.

      I opened the donut car’s back door, moved the coffee urn to the edge of the seat, filled a paper cup, and handed it to Brent. While he sipped, I guessed, “Maybe there was another beneficiary in the years since Rich’s mother died. Maybe Rich was about to change his will to the woman I pointed out to you earlier beside Rich’s back deck, Terri Estable. Maybe his current beneficiary, whoever it is, couldn’t let that happen.” I waved my hand toward the stone building towering over us. “Rich seems to have been wealthy. He told me that he’d done well with what he called quality investments.”

      “We’ll find out if a will was filed for him since his mother died. Hooligan got a statement from Terri Estable, but we need to have a more thorough discussion with her. From what you saw, it sounds like Royalson changed his will in a big hurry after he reconnected with the alleged love of his life. Could she and her ex-boyfriend, the one with the possibly sooty hands, have been only pretending to quarrel?”

      “If so, they’re good actors, but yes. However, if they planned it all, including murdering Rich, Derek was stupid to come to Deputy Donut first and threaten Rich and Terri.”

      “Criminals can do strange things. Did you and Nina have a good look inside the deceased’s cottage last night?”

      “We went into all of the rooms, but we didn’t examine every nook and cranny. The skillet we saw was hanging in the kitchen, and a platter like the broken one was in a cabinet above the counter near that skillet, to the right of the sink.”

      “I’d like you to take another look around that cottage with me. Can you meet me there after you’re done at Deputy Donut tonight?”

      “Sure.”

      “Nina, too, if she can make it?”

      “I’ll ask her, but I’m sure she can. The two of us scheduled a meeting with Rich in his cottage this evening to discuss our suggestions for his renovation and redecorating project.” I swallowed to dislodge another lump in my throat. Rich had been annoying at times, but he had obviously enjoyed his life, and although he had just turned seventy, he might have enjoyed many more years.

      Brent explained, “I’d like you to check for the skillet, the platter, and for anything that looks different from last night. Also, I’d like you to show me the wills and the rental records.”

      “Okay.” I pointed at the coffee urn. “Would the investigators like the coffee and donuts I brought for Rich’s party?”

      “We’d all like that. I’ll see that you get the urn back.”

      He carried the urn to his cruiser while I brought the boxes of donuts and the bags of cups, napkins, creamers, sugar packets, and stir sticks. He put it all into the cruiser’s rear seat.

      I told him, “Rich’s platter, the one I was supposed to arrange the donuts on, is also in my car. Would you like that?”

      “I’ll get it from you later. I might have a DCI agent with me this evening.” For serious crimes, the Fallingbrook police called in the Wisconsin Division of Criminal Investigation. DCI detectives were called agents, and when they helped in an investigation, they took over and directed it.

      I was certain that Brent was perfectly capable of running the investigation. “Do you think your chief will call them in this soon?” Other times, it had taken a couple of days.

      “I’m going to ask for them right away.”

      “Are you going to put in the request yourself?”

      “Yes, because you called it in, and you were the first on the scene.”

Скачать книгу