Claws for Alarm Read online

  The lieutenant left and Peter leaned in toward me. “Just a word of caution,” he said. “I know you’ll want to touch your sister, give her a hug and a kiss, but it’s best if you don’t. This isn’t a family visit, remember, and we don’t want to alarm the guard with unsolicited behavior. They might think you’re passing something to her.”

  I nodded. “I’ll remember.”

  Several minutes later the door opened and my sister, accompanied by a dour-faced guard, entered. I could see even this brief period of incarceration had taken a toll on my sister. Lacey had on navy pants and a matching shirt. Her hands were manacled, and her eyes were dull and expressionless. Her normally bouncy ash-blond hair hung in limp strands around her pale face and looked as if it could do with a shampoo.

  “Hello, Lacey,” Peter said. “You remember me—we met last night.”

  Lacey stared at him blankly, and then her gaze traveled to me. She sucked in her breath and didn’t say a word, but her eyes widened and seemed to lose their glassy stare. The guard unlocked the handcuffs and waited until Peter and I were seated before moving to a seat on the other side of the room.

  Lacey perched awkwardly in her chair, arms folded tightly across her chest. She kept her gaze down, fixed on the tabletop.

  “Lacey,” Peter said, “I’ve brought someone with me who would like to talk to you.”

  “Lace.” My hand started to move across the table, and I had to catch myself midway. I could feel the guard’s eyes on me as I drew it back, put it in my lap. “Lace, it’s good to see you.”

  My sister slowly raised her gaze to meet mine. She blinked back tears, hugged herself more tightly. Still she did not say one word.

  “Don’t you worry,” I said, with far more confidence than I felt. “Everything’s going to be all right. I know you didn’t murder Pitt, and so does Peter. We’re going to find out who did.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. I pulled a tissue from my jacket pocket and placed it on the table. She picked it up, dabbed at her eyes, then clenched her fist tightly around the tissue before raising her gaze to meet mine. “You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

  I leaned forward a bit, but not too much, as the guard had her eagle eye trained right on the table. My sister had lost her former sense of bravado. I couldn’t recall ever hearing her sound so dejected. “Why do you say that, Lacey? The only way my time would be wasted would be if you did kill him, and you didn’t, right?”

  Her lips tugged downward. “You don’t sound very sure of me. Of course I didn’t.” Her chin shot up, just a hair. “I might have wanted to, maybe, just for a minute, but . . . He was a pompous, arrogant ass, but I knew that when I signed up for the course. I wanted to study under the best. I never dreamt he was so . . . so malicious, such a bully. His biggest delight was in making people feel small, feel inadequate. Of course, it might just have been his way of igniting one’s creative flame, but I thought it sucked. And I told him so.”

  “Good for you,” I murmured. “People who think belittling someone is the way to make them do a better job make my skin crawl.”

  We were all silent for a few moments, and then Lacey dropped her arms to her sides and sat up a bit straighter in her chair. “I asked him what I could do to improve my grade. I knew I deserved more than that damned C minus. God, all of them did. I was the only one with any guts to ask for extra credit. He said he’d think about it, and I should come to his office after my last class. I told him that I’d definitely be there.”

  “Okay,” I said as she took a breath. “Then what happened?”

  “I went back to the studio and worked on my portraits. I had three of them, and I worked on them all day. My last class ended at nine thirty that evening, and I’d forgotten one of my portraits, so I had to go back to my locker—that’s why I was late for our meeting. I figured he might think I wasn’t going to show and leave, but when I got there I saw the door was ajar. I called out his name, and I thought I heard a sound.”

  “What sort of sound?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure; it was so faint—if I had to guess I’d say it sounded like a faint click, you know, like a drawer being shut. Anyway, I pushed the door all the way open and went in. I called out his name—no answer. At first I thought he’d left, and then . . . I saw that red stain. At first I thought it might be wine—the decanter was off center, and I could swear I smelled it. Pitt was such a fanatic about his wine; he always had a glass or more in the evenings, and he could have spilled some, but . . . there was just so much red. Then when I realized what it was, what happened next . . . well, it’s kind of a blur.” She scrubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I walked around the desk and he was lying there, that antique knife of his bulging out of his chest. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe that if I could get that knife out, he’d start to breathe. I saw all the blood, and yet—I don’t know why, I thought maybe I could still save him. So I grabbed the handle with both hands and just pulled it out. For what it’s worth, I honestly don’t think he’d been dead very long. Next thing I knew the guard was standing in the doorway, yelling at me to put the knife down and step away from the body. All I could think of was I just had to get out of there, to figure out what to do, so when he went for the phone—” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, and she raised her head. She fixed me with a penetrating stare. “I must say, you certainly got here fast, Nora. How did you hear about this so quickly? Either this was front-page news over in Cruz or Aunt Pru called you,” she said flatly. “Of course she did. Who else could get to the bottom of this mystery?”

  “That’s not true,” I began, but my sister cut me off.

  “Oh right. You came back home to take over the family business because I couldn’t make a go and wanted to sell. As usual. The cool, levelheaded older sister has to step in to save the family legacy from the flighty, impetuous younger sister, the one who has yet to make a success of anything she undertakes.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I bit out. “I was considering coming back to Cruz anyway. Let’s be honest, here. We really haven’t had a serious talk in a long time. You have no idea what’s been going on in my life, any more than I have in yours. And it’s a shame.”

  She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “Touché. So let’s be honest, just like you suggested, sis. You always did like to play rescuer, and everything you touch turns to gold while everything I touch turns to crap. Here’s yet another opportunity for you to show me up. Why do you think I didn’t call you?” Her words tumbled out, double time, and now she stopped for a shaky breath. “I didn’t kill him. I wish to God I knew who did.” Her shoulders heaved up and down, and then her body curled into itself as she began to sob in earnest. I wanted to go to her, put my arms around her, and cradle her, but I knew I couldn’t, so I just sat and watched until her sobs slowly subsided and her breath came out in hiccups.

  “I’m so sorry you felt you couldn’t call on me for help,” I said softly. “You have to know I love you.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said at last, pushing hair out of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “We’ve had our share of differences over the years, but I don’t mean to be ungrateful. You got me a lawyer, and came all the way out here—but honest, I think it’s a lost cause. I didn’t kill him, but the police aren’t looking for anyone else. They’ve got a dummy right here, who got caught with the body and was stupid enough to touch the murder weapon. It’s open and shut as far as they’re concerned.”

  “Them, maybe, but not us.” I tapped the edge of one nail against the tabletop. “If Pitt was as egocentric as you claim, there must be other students who hated him, too.”

  “Gosh,” Lacey pushed her hand through her hair, “there were lots who felt that way, who hated his guts, but none of ’em would ever come right out and say so—except yours truly.” Her brow furrowed, th
en cleared. “Well, maybe Julia. She was always one to speak her mind.”

  “Julia?”

  “Julia Canton. She’s one of his students—was one of his students—and she also does some modeling. Rumor has it she and Pitt have been, ah, seeing a lot of each other lately.”

  “Seeing a lot of each other? As in dating?”

  “If you put any stock in the school rumor mill, which, FYI, is right more often than wrong.”

  “What a glowing endorsement.” I glanced across the table at Peter, who’d whipped a pad and pen from his briefcase and was scribbling down notes. “I thought Pitt was married.”

  “He was,” Peter chimed in. “Been married to his second wife for a little over eight years now.” His lips twitched slightly as he added, “I believe the second Mrs. Pitt would be what’s known as a ‘trophy wife.’”

  “Ah.” I rubbed my hands together. “And wife number one?”

  “Apparently the divorce was amicable in spite of the circumstances. They do have a son, Philip. Boy’s got a lot of problems—to be precise, the ponies and Vegas. From what I understand, Pitt has very little to do with the boy, yet he’s on surprisingly friendly terms with the wife. Gave her a large settlement when they split, and a generous monthly allowance.”

  “He dumped her for a younger model, though, right?” I tapped my chin with my forefinger. “Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”

  “Assuming Pitt has a conscience, yes. Anyway, since Althea hasn’t worked full-time in years, I see no reason why she’d want to see her cash cow dead. Giselle, on the other hand, signed a pre-nup. In a divorce, she’d get virtually nothing, but as the widow”—he paused and finished with a flourish—“she’d get millions.”

  “If Pitt was planning on racking up a new trophy, she’s a good possibility. Money’s always a prime motive for murder.” I slit my eyes in thought, then turned to Lacey. “Anyone else who wasn’t his number one fan?”

  Her eyes rolled upward, answer enough for me even without the vocal confirmation. “Geez, where do I begin? He was always picking on Taft Michaels on one thing or another—he’s another student and model. And I think Jenna Whitt—she’s another student—might have had a disagreement with him recently.” Her brow puckered in thought and then she said, “And there’s Kurt.”

  “Kurt?”

  “Kurt Wilson. He manages a gallery in Pacific Grove that displays some of the more promising students’ work from time to time. I think Pitt bought some pieces recently from Kurt’s gallery. Maybe—maybe they could have had a disagreement over that. But I couldn’t say for sure.”

  I laid my hand on Peter’s arm. “It would seem there are quite a few other people who could have had a motive for murder. Now why aren’t the police looking into them?”

  “Why should they? As far as they’re concerned, I had means, motive, and opportunity,” Lacey cut in. “None of the others threatened to kill him in public and then got caught holding the murder weapon.” She scrubbed at her face with both hands and let out a giant sigh. “Mom said it best. I’m my own worst enemy.”

  I wanted desperately to pat her on the shoulder and restrained myself with effort. “Can you think of anyone who might have heard you making that appointment with Pitt?”

  Her lips scrunched up as she thought. “Julia might have been standing nearby; maybe Taft, too. The door was open, and I wasn’t exactly quiet. Anyone walking by or standing in the hall near the door could have heard, I guess.” She slapped her forehead with her open palm. “I’m sorry, I just can’t remember. I was just so mad. All my focus was on Pitt and getting him to agree to look at more of my work.” She paused and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. “And how much crow I’d probably have to eat for my earlier words, of course.”

  I leaned a little bit forward, not too far as I caught the guard watching us carefully. “Is there anything else you can think of, Lace? What about the office when you went in? Did anything seem off to you?”

  “You mean other than seeing the dead body on the floor, and all that blood?” She let out a giant sigh. “If anything did, it went from my mind the minute I saw that.”

  “I know finding a body can make other details blur,” I said. “Believe me, I know. But if there was anything that seemed a bit out of the ordinary to you, anything at all, try and remember. Sometimes even the smallest detail . . .”

  Her eyes squinched up at the corners. “I’m trying, Nora, honestly, I am. Do you think I want to go to prison? I’ve had plenty of time to rack my brain, believe me. There—there may have been something I noticed at the time, but now, after all that’s happened . . . I just can’t remember, or focus. My mind’s a blank.”

  “Easy, it’s okay,” Peter interrupted soothingly. “You’re doing fine. We’ll get there.” He glanced at his watch and snapped his briefcase shut. “It’s almost time for the arraignment. The guard will take you over to the courthouse. I’ll meet you over there. I’m going to try and get you out on bail, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  Lacey bit her lower lip. “I’m not getting my hopes up. Besides, even if they offer it, I’m sure I can’t afford it.”

  “You can’t, but I can,” I interjected. “And if at all possible, I want you out.”

  She slid me a glance. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course, silly. We fight like cats and dogs, but you’re my sister. We’re family, and family sticks together.” I saw her eyes start to fill up and said quickly, “Provided you won’t skip town and make me lose my investment.”

  Her lips twisted into a wry half smile. “Heck no. I’d welcome a good night’s sleep in my bed—lumpy mattress and all.”

  Peter picked up his briefcase and rose, signaling to the guard. “Time to go. Stiff upper lip, now.”

  Lacey’s eyes brightened, although the corners of her mouth drooped down. “You’re not discouraged? You’re going to stick with my case, hopeless though it seems?”

  “Are you kidding?” He smiled at her. “You’re stuck with me, Lacey Charles. For better or for worse.”

  She thrust out her hands so the guard could slip the handcuffs on again. “I’d like to say the worst is behind us, but I hate to lie. I haven’t had the best luck lately.”

  After Lacey was led out, Peter turned to me. “Going to the arraignment hearing?”

  “Try and stop me. Even if bail’s denied I want Lacey to know I’m there every step of the way for her.” I smiled at him. “I think she’s lucky to have you in her corner, too. Thank you for everything, Peter.”

  “Save your thanks, Nora. I haven’t done anything yet.”

  “You took a case where the cards look stacked against her, and that’s something. This gathering was very helpful. I think I’ve figured out the key to proving her innocence.”

  His eyes widened. “You have? What?”

  “I’m convinced the real murderer is someone connected to the art school. It’s such a perfect setup, it just has to be. And now that we have some other possible suspects, we just have to narrow them down. The key to Lacey’s freedom is finding out which of them is the real murderer.” I paused. “And to find out fast. Really, really fast.”

  FIVE

  “So, no bail, huh?”

  I’d arrived back at Prudence’s about twenty minutes ago, to find that she and Irene had gone to the local Pathmark to get some groceries. She’d left me a note, inviting me to stay for dinner. I’d gone up to my room, kicked off my shoes, and, since Nick was snoring peacefully in the corner, dug out my cell and called Chantal. Her psychic senses must have been on overdrive, because no bail were the first words she uttered, even before hello.

  “No. Peter put up a pretty persuasive argument, but the ADA was more persuasive. She managed to convince the judge otherwise, which, considering the circumstances, wasn’t all that hard to do.” I flopped down on the edge of the bed and let my leg dangl
e over the side. “The ADA was determined to get a quick court date, and Peter didn’t object. If the case is brought to trial quickly, they can keep her in jail locally; otherwise she’d have been remanded to the women’s prison in Chowchilla.”

  “Ouch,” Chantal said. “That does not sound good.”

  “It’s not. The prosecution must feel they’ve got a strong case for conviction, so unless we can unearth the real murderer, she still may end up there. The police aren’t exactly looking elsewhere right now, thanks in part to my sister and her temper.”

  I kicked off my heels and pulled the list of names out of my jacket pocket. “According to Lacey, there were quite a few people who weren’t exactly charter members of the Thaddeus Pitt fan club. I’m betting one of them set her up.”

  Chantal was very quiet for a moment, then said, “I did a reading, chérie. The High Priestess appeared, the guardian of secrets, right next to the Empress, who is known to represent all things traditionally feminine. Tell me, is one of the people you suspect his wife?”

  “Funny you should say that. She does seem a good prospect, but there are others that fill that bill as well.” I paused. “So—the cards said cherchez la femme? Look for the woman?”

  “They could be interpreted that way, yes.” She hesitated, then added, “There is a bit more. The Lovers card also appeared, in the past position. It usually indicates a past relationship that might have ended badly, or that the person might be of some help in the present.”

  “Hm,” I said. “Lacey thought Pitt might have had someone on the side that could be a possibility.”

  “Well, that reading was not one of my better ones,” Chantal admitted. “My concentration was not the best. I will do a cleanse and attempt another one later. You are coming back tonight?”

  “I was, but my aunt wants me to stay for dinner, and under the circumstances, I think I should. So, would you mind doing the breakfast and lunch crowd tomorrow? I probably won’t be able to get back to Hot Bread until late Saturday.”