Part 9 (1/2)
”Is this police business?”
”Of course.”
”Then why isn't Chief Harper bringing it to me?”
”Probably too busy.”
”So he asked you to ask me?”
”That's a clumsy way to phrase it.”
”What's a good way to phrase it?”
”You're too quick for me today, Dan. I need to find out if Melvin Crabtree rented a car recently. If so, I need the make and plate.”
”Isn't Melvin Crabtree the ex-husband making trouble for you in court?”
”Oh my. That would be quite a coincidence, wouldn't it?”
”It certainly would.”
”Don't string me along, Dan. If you don't want to do it, just say so.”
Dan got back to her in twenty minutes. ”Cream-colored Lexus. New York plate, BFH561.”
”That was fast, Dan.”
”Well, what with it being official police business and all.”
Cora went out, got in her car, and cruised the streets of Bakerhaven, looking for a cream-colored Lexus.
She'd just pa.s.sed the police station when Becky Baldwin ran out and waved her arms.
Cora pulled to a stop. ”Whaddya want?”
”I've been trying to get in touch with you. I had lunch with Melvin's attorney.”
”Oh? What did you have?”
Becky gave her a look. ”Are you deliberately trying to be irritating?”
”Yeah, I guess so. When you start collaborating with the enemy.”
”I thought you wanted to know if Melvin was in town.”
”Yeah. Did you find out?”
”No.”
”I suppose lunch will appear on your expense account anyway.”
”Cora.”
”Relax. I did the work for you. Melvin's in town. Driving a cream-colored Lexus. If you see him, flag me down again.”
”How did you find out?”
”Simple detective work. Why are you so het up over lunch?”
”There's a weak point in Melvin's case. The attorney's representing him and Chester T. Markowitz. That reeks to high heaven.”
”What's the shyster say about it?”
”He won't say. I think we can make something out of it.”
”d.a.m.n.”
”What's the matter?”
”I don't like it. Here's a clear-cut case, and you're resorting to technicalities.”
”What's so clear-cut about it?”
”I never knew any Chester T. Markowitz.”
”And yet you cashed his check.”
”Shut up.”
Cora continued to zigzag in and out of the side streets, a circuitous route that eventually led her to the outskirts of town. The local shopping mall was only a mile down the road. She checked it out on a hunch. A bad hunch. Melvin wasn't parked in front of the Starbucks. Or the Stop & Shop. Or the Bed Bath & Beyond.
Cora pulled out of the mall parking lot and headed back toward town, following a different circuitous route from the one that had taken her there.
She almost zoomed right by the antiques shop. It wasn't one she'd ever stopped at before, but then there were nearly as many antiques shops as there were bed-and-breakfasts in Bakerhaven. This one was called Ye Olde Antique Shop, old spelled with an e, as if the archaic spelling would make the goods inside even more antique.
A cream-colored Lexus was parked outside. It had no license plate on the front. Cora had to back up half a block to check the one in the rear. Sure enough, the plate was BFH561.
Cora pulled up behind the Lexus and got out.
Two men came around the corner of the shop.
One was the owner. A little old man with horn-rimmed gla.s.ses, white hair, and a blue polo s.h.i.+rt.
The man next to him was short, stocky, but still athletically built. His brown curls were flecked with gray, but his chin jutted out, firm, a.s.sertive. He wore no gla.s.ses. His blue eyes were keen. His lip was twisted in a sardonic smile.
Cora felt her pulse quicken.
She stepped across the sidewalk to intercept the men in the middle of the lawn.
Melvin saw her coming. He stopped. His chin came up. His lips twisted in a haughty sneer. ”Well, well, well.”