“You’re too late for the speed dating, I’m afraid. You’ll have to catch it next round.” My heart was whining like a puppy.
“Kennie Rogers still here?” He growled.
I pointed behind me to where Kennie was dancing seductively and alone to Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” She didn’t appear to have any takers.
He nodded his acknowledgment. And he still wore the mirrored shades.
“You ever wonder what the world looks like without those glasses on?” I asked.
And immediately regretted my smart aleck words as he slid the sunglasses off and pinned me to the wall with his black and bottomless eyes. I tried not to let on that my knees had gone wobbly, but it was hard. If he was a superhero, Gary Wohnt would be the Black-eyed Truthinator. “I stole Twinkies from John Fuch’s lunch box in first grade, but only because my mom wouldn’t buy me any and I’ve never stolen anything since.”
Did his eyes twinkle, or were they merely catching the reflection of the disco ball swirling at the center of the room? “You give any more thought to your whereabouts the night of the murder, or more specifically, the morning the cleaning woman discovered the body of Bob Webber?”
I steeled myself. I was a champion liar. I could keep a secret better than the ocean. But what was it about those eyes that delved into my soul? I exhaled noisily. Might as well face the music now, when I had a façade of control over the outcome. “Look, I was at the motel that night. I heard the maid scream the next morning, and I ran in to see if she needed help. She had called 911, confirmed that Webber was dead, and told me there was nothing for me to do. I didn’t touch anything. Lord knows I don’t need to be found next to any more dead bodies, so I left.”
“Is that all?”
I knew he wanted me to finger Mrs. Berns and her boy toy, but I wouldn’t do it. My personal resolve may be periodically weak, but when it came to protecting my friends, I was Fort Knox. I tried throwing him off the trail. “I slept with Johnny Leeson the night before, if that’s what you want to know.”
He blinked rapidly for a moment, but it was enough to break the laser spell of his gaze. “I know.”
“Then you know what I know. Is there anything else?”
“I’ll be in touch,” he said gruffly, sliding his glasses back on as he walked toward Kennie, who was now illustrating to the dwindling audience her take on the quickest way to bring Sexy Back.
I drew a deep breath and scurried out while the scurrying was good.
I woke the next morning finally beginning to feel normal again. I’d gotten sufficient sleep two nights in a row, and my stomach was back in the game. I spent some quality downtime with my plants and animals before cruising to Alexandria to pick up Mrs. Berns. She was so anxious to escape the hospital that she was waiting curbside in a wheelchair when I arrived.
“I told you I’d be here by 10 o’clock.”
“Pah. I knew you’d be early. Help me get on these sticks and load up my bags.” She had a pair of old-fashioned wooden crutches strapped to the back of the wheelchair and a suitcase next to her.
“Wouldn’t a wheelchair be more manageable?”
“I’d sooner have a colostomy bag,” she said. “People see you in a wheelchair, they think you’re weak. They take advantage of you.”
I unstrapped them and held them out to her. She looked bruised and tiny in the wheelchair, but her eyes were as fiery as ever. “And on crutches?”
Almost before my sentence was out of my mouth, she’d snatched a crutch out of my hand and swung it in a whipsnake arch. I ducked to avoid getting whacked.
“Point taken,” I said. I eased her into the car where she stayed while I made a quick run to Freda’s room for my promised visit. I made sure she had what she needed and gave her my word that I’d be back again soon.
The drive back to Battle Lake was pleasant, a last explosion of red, gold, and orange before the white fist of winter clamped down on the landscape. The air smelled like change, the turn of the wheel that leads to dormancy, cold, and rest. But we weren’t there yet. Today was about unseasonable warmth, the scent of brown leaves cooking in the sun, and maple trees so brightly colored that they sang. While I navigated the road, I filled Mrs. Berns in on what I’d learned, minus any mention of her fiancé’s bad behavior or her son visiting me at the library. I didn’t want to cause her unnecessary stress. We both agreed that the hairs found in the room were a good sign unless Glenn Vanderbrick or any of his guests also had long, sandy-brown hair. I assumed the police had already ruled that out, which is why they considered the hairs and the shoe print to be real evidence. We also agreed that it wasn’t such a good time to be Sarah Glokkmann or Arnold Swydecker.
“All politicians are the same,” Mrs. Berns said. “Just door-to-door salesmen with a wider audience. Don’t trust a one of them.”
“I dunno. Swydecker seemed different.”
“You mean different from the other unfaithful husbands you’ve known?”
“I’m not a fan of his alleged personal choices. I’m talking about his politics. He really seemed sincere and dedicated.”
“I bet he did. Say, I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you. It crosses from West Battle Lake to the Mississippi, and underneath lives a magical troll who poops diamonds and blueberries. Good deal, going fast.”
I changed the subject. “Your fiancé meeting you at the Sunset?”
“If he knows what’s good for him.”
I still didn’t know how I’d broach the subject of Bernard’s checkered past, but I was formulating a plan that might involve a hint of blackmail. “I’ve been thinking that it would be a good idea for me to interview him.”
“What for?” She asked. She was studying me suspiciously.
“To completely rule him out as a suspect. And to find out why he didn’t like Bob Webber.”
“Seems your goals are in opposition to each other.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. “Knowledge is power.”
“Knowledge is shit compared to a Taser when it comes to power. I dare you to think your way out of an electrical volt designed to make you cry out your feet.”
“Nevertheless,” I said, trying to get her back on topic. “Do you think I could have some time with Bernard? We don’t know a lot about him, you know.”
She beetled her brows. If she did in fact know about his past, a possibility I’d entertained, she wasn’t letting on. “Bernard and I are going out for a fancy dinner tonight to celebrate my homecoming. Why don’t you join us?”
That was too easy. “The catch?”
“His name is Johnny Leeson.”
My face grew hot, and she chortled. “I don’t know if that’s shame or anticipation on your face, girlie. Knowing you, probably both.”
“Our night at the motel didn’t go as well as planned.”
“Really? Did you know that cows have four legs? Because that’s another unexpected bit of information I like people to know.”
“It’s even worse than you think. I threw up.” I shuddered as I relived the scene. “He saw it. He held my hair.”
She whistled. “Were you naked or in clothes?”
“In clothes!” I said indignantly.
“Thank God for small favors. Nothing less attractive than a naked girl throwing up. There’s no recovery from that.”
“You think I can recover from this?”
“You want to?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“Christ, I don’t care. I just love to watch you make a fool of yourself. So I called Johnny this morning to say you were having dinner with me and Bernard tonight and you wanted him to join us. And if you want to talk to Bernard, you’ll have to show.”
“But I’m only talking to Bernard to help you!”
“That’ll teach you to trust an old lady. Now pull up in the handicapped spot right there. If these crutches don’t buy me better parking, then I’m going back to the wheelchair.”