Mars set his coffee down. “They’re desperate. When they question someone from England who didn’t even know the victims, they’re reaching.”
I hoped Mars was right. I hated to think that Bernie could be involved somehow. Between England, Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Miami, his world, like Simon’s, was much larger than mine. Unfortunately, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that he’d hired Otis and come here for a specific reason.
Mars checked his watch. “I can’t hang around here long. Have you seen his car keys?”
“You can’t just steal his car.”
“It’s not stealing between Bernie and me.” Mars spied the jacket Bernie left in the kitchen. He took a long swig of coffee, picked up the jacket, and felt the pockets. “Aha!”
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“Nothing.” He fumbled in his pants pocket and tossed his keys onto the counter. “In case Bernie needs to go anywhere.” He reached for the last bite of cake.
I snatched it away and held it as a bribe. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t need that last bite, you know.”
“Of course you don’t.” I cut another tiny slice and added it to the plate. I waved it under his nose but pulled it back when he reached for it.
“Okay, but no sharing this with Wolf. I didn’t know that Nat hired Otis until you told me. She shares almost everything with me, but she skipped that, which worries me. There’s only one other thing that she won’t tell me. I tease her about it all the time, but it didn’t matter until now. Once a week she turns off her cell phone and disappears for a few hours.”
I handed him the plate with cake on it.
He ate a piece before continuing. “It never bothered me before. Everybody needs some private time, right? But now that she’s being stalked, I’m afraid she’s gotten herself into a mess and doesn’t know how to handle it. That has to be the reason she hired a private investigator. It all fits together with the not sleeping and the lack of appetite.”
I was glad he told me but didn’t quite understand. “What’s that got to do with Bernie’s car?”
“I’m going to follow her. Maybe I can identify her stalker. If nothing else, I’ll know where she goes every week. I need Bernie’s rental so no one will realize it’s me—at least not right away.”
Wolf’s voice filtered to us from the hallway.
“Gotta go.” Mars snarfed the rest of his cake. “Not a word to Wolf.” He grabbed his jacket and gloves. “Oh, and if Andrew comes in here looking for me, you don’t know where I am.” He rushed out into the cold without bothering to bundle up.
The door clicked shut seconds before Wolf walked into the kitchen.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.
I wanted to interpret his question as flirtatious but his demeanor was definitely angry cop. “Nina told you . . .”
“Never mind what Nina said. I want to know if you’re dating anyone.”
“No.” Did he mean Humphrey? I thought he’d misconstrued Humphrey’s words on Thanksgiving when he walked in on us in the kitchen. “Humphrey appears to be suffering from delusions stemming from a childhood crush, but it’s nothing.”
Wolf raised his chin. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss him. Anyone else? What about Bernie?”
What did he mean about dismissing Humphrey? “Bernie is an old friend. He was Mars’s best man at our wedding.”
Wolf stared into the fireplace, deep in thought. “That’s right. Can’t forget about Mars. What did you do after the stuffing contest?”
Clearly, romantic thoughts had not been the source of his questions about my love life. “You should know. I was driven down to the police station to relinquish my clothes.”
“And after that?”
“You were here Thanksgiving Day. Maybe you didn’t notice all the food? I was home all night cooking and baking.”
“You didn’t go out for dinner, to get take-out, make a quick grocery run?”
His line of questioning annoyed me, mostly because I didn’t understand what he was getting at. “You have my car, remember?”
He loosened his tie. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“I’d like to know why you’re asking these odd questions.”
“Thanks for your time.” He headed for the front door and let himself out.
So much for Mom’s theory that he was sweet on me. And then it hit me. He was trying to figure out who might have buried the turkey in Natasha’s yard. It could have been me or someone who liked me enough to do an important favor for me. After all, as far as I knew, I was the only one who remembered seeing the bloody turkey trophy. He thought I’d planted it.
The kitchen door opened behind me and Andrew stuck his head in. “Where’s Mars?”
I didn’t have to lie. “I don’t know.”
“His car’s outside, he must be here somewhere.”
“He left the car here, but I don’t know where he went.”
“Shoot!” Andrew came in and shut the door. “How about Mom? Is she here?”
“She’s entertaining the colonel in the living room.”
“I think I’ll join them.”
I placed my hand against his chest to stop him. “There might be a little romance brewing. You wouldn’t want to spoil that.”
“At her age? You’re kidding me, right?”
“How about a piece of cake?” Maybe that would distract him.
“Sure.” He plopped into a fireside chair. “Did Vicki tell you I’m going to become a private investigator? Yeah. I’ve been watching Wolf, it’s not that hard. Andrew Winston, detective. Sounds pretty cool. I’ve been following Mars. He doesn’t know, so don’t tell him. You know, to protect him in case the killer goes after him again.”
I handed him a plate of cake and said, “Definitely cool.” Mars obviously knew that Andrew was tailing him. I couldn’t help wondering what Vicki really thought about Andrew’s latest career plan.
“I’m way ahead of the game. I’ve got this murder all figured out, well almost, and Wolf is still working on it. And he has people helping him.”
Pouring his coffee could wait. I perched on the other chair, anxious to hear Andrew’s theory. “Spill it.”
“It’s elementary, my dear Watson. The killer talked Francie into making that scene outside so everyone would leave the table and he could poison Mars’s soup. But, you ask, why would he want to kill Mars? He didn’t. He meant to kill me because I knew too much.”
I had a feeling Andrew intended to drag out his story for his own amusement so I rose and fetched his coffee after all.
“You know how they say the killer always revisits the scene of the crime? On Thanksgiving morning I went over to the hotel looking for Mom. She’d left Natasha’s house in a snit the night before and all. But in my new profession as a private detective, I stopped to check out the Washington Room where Simon was killed. There was yellow tape up but that never applies to those of us in the profession. And who did I see there? Craig, surreptitiously looking for something.”