“That, plus you weren’t ready to entertain,” Ambrose said. “But eat your nice veggies and you’ll be better in no time.”
“The media scrum wasn’t just here,” I said. “Ambrose rode with you in the ambulance, and another patrol car came for Carl, and the rest of us went to the Willow Falls Police Station in Officer Smith’s car. Half a dozen news vans arrived before us.”
“They love things like a bank president running amok, shooting people in the woods and being bitten by one of his intended victims,” Kay said.
Bob added, “Just when we thought things were cooling off, word got out that some of the High Cross police might be involved. And they were off again.”
Kay began to laugh. “You should have seen Louisa on the news that first night. They caught her getting out of the patrol car. She had blood smeared on her face, and mud, and leaves in her hair.”
“While Carl was all neat and clean on the film, and he still had those obnoxious creases in his pants,” I said bitterly. “I looked far more evil than he did.”
Bob looked at me. “Creases?”
“At least Emily Ann looked beautiful,” I added, giving Bob an ‘I'll tell you later’ look.
“And now,” Kay said, “they are talking about a movie of the week loosely based on what happened.”
“Loosely?” Bonnie asked.
“Apparently the real thing wasn’t cinematic enough,” I explained. “Probably no good camera angles among the myanumma bushes.”
“But the good news is that the store got so much press,” Kay went on, “that we’ve sold so much I may have to close for a couple of weeks to find more inventory. And Ambrose and Bob have more business than they can handle. Even that oak monstrosity in the restaurant in High Cross is famous.”
A tap on the door. Officer George Smith stuck his head in, noted the group in the room, and entered. He held the door for Ed to follow. The room was as full as the proverbial sardine can. Bob and I retreated to the window and leaned hip-to-hip on the sill. Ed threaded his way to Bonnie and shook her hand. “You’re looking much better,” he told her with a crinkly smile, and I saw Bonnie squeeze his hand and smile in return. I began to understand what Kay saw in him. That smile was disarming.
Officer Smith shook hands with Ambrose and Kay, and smiled across the room and nodded to Bob and me. “Good, you’re all here,” he said. “Ed and I were going to start with Mrs. Becker, and I planned to call the rest of you in the morning.”
“What’s up?” Bob asked.
The officer looked at Bonnie. “We just heard from the detectives working on your case.”
All eyes were riveted on him.
“They’ve broken Walsh’s alibi for the night his stepson died.”
Bonnie’s quick intake of breath was loud in the silence that followed. Ed took up the narrative. “He claimed to have spent the night in a hotel in Kansas City. He had dinner with a young woman, and took her back to his room. We think he drugged her dinner. She passed out shortly after they went upstairs.”
Officer Smith nodded. “We’ve ascertained that Carl rented a motorcycle under an assumed name earlier in the day, and that’s how he got back to High Cross in the night.”
“A motorcycle!” Bonnie exclaimed.
“With the helmet on, no one he passed on the road would recognize him.”
“Then how—?” I began.
“The guy at the motorcycle shop picked his picture out of half a dozen that we showed him, and the woman he took to his room will testify that she doesn’t remember if he was there all night.” Officer Smith gave a satisfied smile.
“And a police report was filed that night,” Ed added. “One of the neighbors complained about a dog making a lot of noise at Walsh’s house.” He looked at Bob. “Your dog must have done his best to get to Walsh, but he was locked out of the house.”
I swallowed hard at the thought of Jack futilely trying to get into the house to protect Ian that night. It was too vivid, and I pushed the image away. If only he could have saved Ian’s life, as he undoubtedly had saved mine.
Officer Smith’s voice was sober as he went on, “The DA thinks she has a real good chance of convicting him of Ian’s death at least, as well as your attempted murder, Mrs. Becker. They are still working on the night your sister died, but we’ll be able to put him away even without that.”
Bonnie carefully laid her fork down beside her plate and sat very still, her face tilted away from my view. She looked back, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Oh. God. Oh, thank you, George. And you, Ed. Nothing can bring back my sister or my nephew. But the pain of knowing he’d killed them and gotten away with it was even worse.”
I felt my own tears about to spill over. I blinked hard. Kay reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table and handed a couple to Bonnie. Ed took the box from her and gave it to me. He gave me a little pat on the shoulder, which threatened my composure even more. I blew my nose harder than I intended, and the honking noise raised a relieved laugh from everyone. “Oops, sorry,” I said. “That’s great news.” I handed the tissue box back to Ed.
“Get ready for more reporters,” he said, and Officer Smith nodded. “I understand the DA is planning a press conference for tomorrow morning.”
“Here we go again,” remarked Kay. “I can hardly wait to see the movie they make out of this thing.”
“I doubt if we’ll recognize it,” I said.
Kay nodded. “Carl’s rented Kawasaki will become a roaring Harley, and the actor playing him will have to have long hair so it can stream out dramatically in the moonlight.”
Ed grinned at the image. He turned to Bonnie, who suddenly looked exhausted. “Hey, you need to rest,” he said. “You’re still pretty pale.”
“I'm all right,” she said staunchly.
“You need to rest,” he said again.
Officer Smith said, “They’ll be here from the DA’s office here tomorrow to talk to you.” Bonnie nodded, and sighed.
Ed turned to my cousin. “You ready to go, Kay?”
“Go?” I inquired, giving Kay a look over the tops of my glasses. Her expression was particularly bland.
“Ed invited me to dinner,” she said, picking up her purse.
“How nice.” I kept my tone dry to keep from laughing.
“Yes. We have some things to talk about.” She went to Bonnie and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I'll be back tomorrow,” she promised, and she and Ed were out the door.
“We need to be going, too,” George said. He was looking at Ambrose. “I was able to get those theatre tickets we talked about, and we have a reservation for dinner. Mrs. Becker, good luck with the DA tomorrow. I hope I'll see you soon.”
Ambrose smiled and waved to us as he went through the door, closely followed by George. Bonnie and Bob and I looked at each other.
“Well,” I said. And couldn’t think of anything to add.
Bonnie nodded. “This is turning out to be the proverbial ill wind,” she said, “blowing more good than I would ever have thought possible.”
I looked from Bob to Bonnie and promised, “I'll pry all the interesting details out of Kay and Ambrose tomorrow.”
“We need to be going too,” Bob told Bonnie. “We have to feed the dogs, not to mention ourselves.” He turned toward the door, then stopped. “Oh, I just remembered. One loose end hasn’t been tied up.”
Bonnie and I both looked at him.
“We still don’t know who Trixie is,” he explained.
“That’s right,” I said.
“Frankly, it’s driving me crazy. Do you mind if I use the phone? Her number will probably be busy, but I might as well try it one more time.”
“Be my guest,” said Bonnie, who had heard about the matchbook and the elusive Trixie. “I'm as curious as anyone.”
Bob sat down in the room’s single chair and pulled the phone on the bedside table closer to him. He dialed Trixie’s number quickly; we had all memorized it in the past few days from trying it repeatedly. As Bob had said, so far it had always been busy. I was convinced it was lying off the hook on a floor somewhere in an abandoned building. This time, however, a big smile soon creased his face.