I knocked on the worn, green-painted door and waited anxiously until someone moved around inside.
Good, this trip will be worth something.
A voice came from the darkness. “Who’s there?”
“Jillian Bradley…a friend of Regina’s. I wish to speak to Mr. Anatolia.”
There was no sound for a full minute, then footsteps approached the door.
“What do you want?” A male voice grumbled.
Would directness impress him?
“Do you feel like finding Regina’s murderer, Mr. Anatolia?”
The door opened slowly. Mr. Anatolia was dressed in a soiled sleeveless undershirt and black, wrinkled slacks. His hair was uncombed. Stubble grew on his face.
“Just woke up from a nap, you see and…well, don’t just stand there, come on in. The dog too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Anatolia.”
Surprisingly, the house was in order. The only thing I noticed was the unmade bed in the small bedroom adjacent to the living room.
“Coffee?”
He groped for the wall with a large calloused hand and found the light switch. They flickered on with a buzz.
“No, thank you. I just finished a cup, but go ahead and have some.” Hopefully, he would still think me friendly.
“Sit down then. I make it in the microwave when it’s just for me.”
“Thanks.”
I found a seat on the well-worn loveseat. Peppered with dingy orange flowers, it looked like the relic had been new in the “60s” and had seen much abuse in the intervening years.
He moved into the kitchen, giving me some time to look around the room. An assortment of pictures cluttered a small paint-chipped desk. It rested next to a window that, though clean, offered an unappealing view of the dirty porch.
Still, when I looked at the pictures once more, I forgot about the rest. One in particular caught my attention. I leaned forward from my seat to examine a certain young woman. It must have been Regina at an earlier time.
“That’s my wife.” He came up quietly behind me.
“She died in a boating accident, I understand.”
“You know about that?” He snorted. “Accident. Huh! Don’t think I’ll ever know for sure, to tell you the truth.”
We both sat down. He sipped his coffee.
“Jillian, is it?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know Regina, Jillian?”
Now I was the one being grilled, but he had more reason to be cautious than I did. He’d lost a wife and a daughter.
“I met her at a gardening conference over at the Ritz-Carlton.”
“I see.” He nodded soberly. “So, you really didn’t know her that well and yet you go around asking a bunch of questions about who murdered her? Don’t rightly sound smart, if you ask me.”
“Mr. Anatolia, was Regina in a relationship with anyone that you knew of?”
He set his coffee mug down on a coaster on the small maple coffee table and looked me in the eye.
“Lady, my girl did what she wanted, when she wanted, and with whoever she wanted. Couldn’t keep up with all her boyfriends. After my wife died…she didn’t really care what she did. She was going to live her own life. Even said, ‘Mama did whatever you said, and you know what happened to her.’”
“You mean Regina thought your wife committed suicide?” That one rather slipped out.
“Yeah. Look, I don’t know if my wife killed herself or not, but if she did, I’m to blame. If she was that unhappy, it was my fault for not seeing it. But I thought she was happy. Dense maybe, but it’s the truth.”
“If she was, then maybe someone did kill her.”
I must have hit a sensitive subject. He was staring into his coffee cup and didn’t answer.
“All right, Mr. Anatolia…just one last question and I will leave you in peace. Do you know anything about Thomas or Evelyn Westover’s nursery clientele?”
“You mean who they do business with?”
“Yes. Would you recognize their suppliers if you saw a list of them?”
He picked up his coffee mug and took a swallow. “Lady, I know everybody around here. Where’s the list?”
“I’ll get it for you. There’s some funny business going on and it could tie in to poor Regina’s death.”
“I’ll do whatever. I loved my Regina. Too bad she was so stubborn.”
I rose to leave and gave him my cell phone number in case he wanted to reach me.
“Come along, Teddy. We need to go.”
Anatolia followed me to my car.
“Sorry that I’m not good company right now. I do appreciate what you’re doing for her.”
“I’m going to do my best. Call me if you think of anything.”
He nodded and turned to walk slowly back into the house.
So far, the day had been extremely productive — and grueling. I checked my makeup in the visor mirror and noticed a shiny new Camry parked three doors down.
Strange. Someone can afford that sort of car and lives here?
Shaking the thought off, I pulled out of the driveway. The Camry moved into the street a few car lengths behind me.
What? Follow me? Preposterous!
Surely, it was just my imagination. I sped up and turned right at the corner, trying to make my way toward the highway. I checked the rear mirror again, and there was the same Camry a few cars back.
“Okay, what do I do now?”
Lose them!
But…how? It was getting dark. The pit of my stomach wrenched at the thought of what they might do to me. Maybe they only wanted to know my whereabouts — or perhaps it was more than that. Did someone wish me harm? I didn’t want to find out.
I floored the accelerator and raced down the highway. Lucky for me, they didn’t take me for slightly suicidal. Whoever was following me didn’t predict the way a middle-aged woman could cling to life when threatened with a violent death. I lost them at the hotel turnoff but I probably wouldn’t be so lucky again.
Quite shaken, I got the chief on the phone. “Hello, Chief? It’s Jillian!” I nearly screamed it as I fled through the hotel door.
“Jillian, what’s the matter? You sound terrified!”
I made my way to my room so that I could have some privacy. Who could even be trusted?
“Someone followed me from Mr. Anatolia’s house. Who besides you and Hugh Porter knew I was going there?”
“No one. But someone could have followed you when you left the hotel easy enough. This is actually good. It means we’re upsetting someone. Did you get a look at the make and model of the car?”
“It looked like a Camry.”
“What about the color?”
“It’s hard to describe, a silvery cream color. You know what I’m talking about?”
“I’m taking it down, Jillian. Maybe you should stay put and not do any more investigating on your own.”
“Oh, no. If I just keep putting the pieces together, it will all fall into place. I’m not afraid anymore.”
“Don’t take any more chances, Jillian, understand? What did you find out from Mr. Anatolia?”
“Mainly, it just confirmed what we knew already. Regina had several boyfriends. She was independent and strong-willed. He didn’t know whom she had been seeing lately — I surmised they weren’t on the best of terms, anyway. Also, he promised to help in any way he could.”
“That’s more than what we got down at the precinct.”
“Chief, could you get me the files on Mrs. Anatolia’s death a few years ago?”
“Sure. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure. There could be a link. Mr. Anatolia didn’t seem to understand her. She could have been seeing someone. Just a feeling.”
“Okay, Jillian. Come down first thing tomorrow morning. Meet me at the precinct, say, nine o’clock?”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Chief.”
We ended the call, and I paused before the ma
d dash to get ready for the ball. I picked Teddy up and walked to the window. He nuzzled into my shoulder.
I watched the sun as it set on the rim of the ocean horizon. It cast an orange hue mixed with pink and purple over the clouds — a kaleidoscope of color.
Picture perfect.
Strange cars follow you, people die — life goes on. Someone played a bagpipe, perhaps in preparation for the festivities. It rang out a single solitary tone, and I could almost imagine the note wishing a foreboding farewell to the sun. What sort of world would it rise to see tomorrow?
Teddy whined, hiding his head beneath my hair.
As the last fingers of light shrank into the ebbing waves, coldness crept closer.
I felt a chill. “Goodbye, Regina. I hope you’ve found peace. I almost envy you. May you find eternal morning.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Getting ready for the ball just happened. It was like a miracle. I don’t remember. Going through the motions of showering, doing my hair and putting on my make-up felt like a strange someone-else dream. My emerald green velvet gown with small rhinestone buttons and a satin sash slipped easily over my head.
The hotel had arranged for Teddy to have a sitter for the evening, a request I had made far in advance of my arrival. I greeted her, and after giving instructions, I left.
“Jillian,” Ann called from the Club Room, poised with a forkful of quiche. “I wanted to catch you.”
“Ann?”
She swallowed quickly, “Oh, Jillian, have I got news for you!”
Her smile curled, cat-like.
“Come with me, quickly.”
I took her arm and headed toward the nearest table, eager for the news. Luckily, it was in a far corner near the door farthest away from the food and consequently, the people.
“I found out from Celeste that Evelyn is the power behind the throne, not only at home but in their nursery business as well.” Ann sat back very satisfied with herself at the information she had received.
“And….”
She widened her eyes, giving me a meaningful look, but finally resolved to use words after I didn’t immediately get her meaning. “Well, don’t you see?”
“I’m trying.”
“It means that Evelyn Westover ran the business, fired Walter’s father with no feeling whatsoever, and I think she would probably be bold enough to kill Regina if she thought Regina was after Thomas. Or if she was just plain sick of Regina being around. Things like that have happened before.”
Then she seemed to realize what she’d just said. “Wow, I can’t believe I just said that...I….”
I cut her off. “Evelyn might have a motive if Regina was after Thomas, or even if Thomas was interested in Regina, but do you really think Evelyn would leave her room at two o’clock in the morning, go to Regina’s room, and strangle her?
“Don’t you think Thomas would notice Evelyn leaving? Wouldn’t he wonder where she was going at that time of the morning?”
“It doesn’t make sense, but Evelyn did hate Regina…according to Celeste anyway, and there’s something about Evelyn that just doesn’t fit.” She leaned forward, drumming her fingers on the table in thought.
“What doesn’t fit?”
“Well, Celeste said she had never seen Evelyn and Thomas drink as much as they did on Saturday night. She said Evelyn was too happy and was treating Thomas too nicely, and then she said, ‘I wonder who they’ve decided to get rid of, now?’ That was a very strange thing to say, don’t you think, Jillian?”
“Ann, you’ve done well. There’s something there we need to look into — who the Westovers got rid of. It could have been a client, an enemy or someone they didn’t like, as you said. Have you seen Nicole or Dominique?”
“Nicole stayed in her room with her computer all afternoon. I haven’t seen Dominique. Oh, look, here they come.”
I took the opportunity to select some hors d’oeuvres from the buffet and a glass of Cabernet. “Hello ladies, tsk…tsk….” I shook my finger teasingly at them. “It’s 7:04. Why so late?”
“Perhaps some of us are not a human pocket watch.” Nicole seemed to pout.
Dominique chuckled.
They both scrunched in around the table in their ball dresses. I set my plate on the table. “Nicole, Ann tells me you’ve been on your computer all afternoon. Did you find anything?”
“I’m getting there. Everything looks legitimate, except one account called The Venus Flytrap.” She shook her head a little and furrowed her brow. “I still need to check for an address.”
I took a bite of my stuffed mushrooms and sipped my Cabernet Sauvignon. I grinned. “I’ll test the waters with that name and see what kind of reaction they give me.”
“Jillian!” Ann took a deep breath, obviously shocked at the idea of confronting them so openly.
“It’s time to put on the pressure.”
I suspected I sounded like the Chief of Scotland Yard.
“Ahem.” Dominique interrupted that pleasant thought. “You haven’t questioned me yet, Jillian. And I’ve really found out something…I think.”
“Good.”
Things were looking better by the minute.
“You asked me to shadow Marianne, and I did. She said that she had known Regina, ‘as well as anyone could, poor thing.’”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did she elaborate on the ‘poor thing’?”
“Marianne said that Regina never had a chance. She was smart, pretty, and just enough of a damsel in distress to have men wrapped around her little fingers.” Dominique smiled sarcastically.
I furrowed my brow. “Did Marianne mention the men Regina had wrapped around her little fingers?”
“Marianne just said that she had the same effect on any man. It didn’t really matter who it was.”
Ann chimed in. “Dominique, how did Marianne talk about Regina? Was she hateful or jealous?”
Dominique looked at Ann with a sober expression. “Marianne pitied her!”
“How long did Marianne know Regina?”
“She knew Regina as a young girl — since grade school. Marianne talked about how Regina teased the boys. She said that she was always ambitiously working to improve herself. I think Marianne also admired her from the way she talked.” Dominique smiled and looked at the three of us.
“Nicole.” I sat up straighter in my chair. “Regina wrote horticulture articles that were plagiarized by Spencer Hausman. We need to find out what she wrote. See what you can come up with.”
“I’ll check on it right after the ball, Jillian.” Nicole stood and cast a furtive glance around the room. The crowd around us seemed to be stirring, and they were too close for confidentiality now. “It’s almost time.”
Too bad Regina, the resident ‘Cinderella,’ wouldn’t be attending. No, I supposed that in real life, most of the Cinderellas out there weren’t so virginal, and many of them probably ended up dead. Jealousy was a powerful thing.
“Ladies, shall we go?” I motioned to the door where others had started to exit.
Stuffed into the elevator in all our finery, we descended.
On entering the ball room, I couldn’t help but make a rough head count. It looked like around two hundred. The funny thing was that out of all those two hundred people only two really stood out.
Celeste looked like a golden goddess, dressed to the teeth, and dangerously seductive. Her blond hair was piled elegantly on top of her head, she wore Hollywood quality makeup (false eyelashes and all), and the gown…my goodness! Strapless, and made of gold lamè, the bodice shimmered with tiny gold beads. The full, floor length skirt of gold tulle netting sparkled with the same elegant gold shimmer. A simple diamond tiara, matching diamond jewelry, and a golden tulle net shawl finished her off — a total “belle of the ball” sort of sight.
For some reason, it angered me. All of the menfolk swarmed around her. A cloud of bees guarding the hive.
What would Regina have worn, h
ad she the chance, tonight? No, she was no longer any sort of competition. The more I thought about it, the madder I got.
Celeste’s attention-loving smirk made me more determined than ever to find out who killed Regina…and I would find out.
The second most noticeable person in the room was Evelyn. Her hairstyle remained unchanged from her everyday bob and bangs. Her makeup consisted of mascara and lipstick.
The dress was undeniably the worst looking formal I’d ever seen! It was orange and green velour in a paisley pattern. It began gathered at her throat and cascaded over her matronly figure, revealing every figure flaw she had.
It exposed her flabby upper arms covered with countless age spots. The fabric rippled over her midriff and then rested on the shelf of her rather large derriere.
The skirt mercifully fell to the floor covering her stocky legs. The earrings were large gold discs of African design. One couldn’t help but stare at them.
Thomas stood by next to her looking very dignified in his tuxedo. Seeing me, they made their way over.
“Jillian, my dear.” Evelyn sounded quite solicitous. “I simply love your gown. It sets off your blond hair so nicely.”
“Thank you, Evelyn.” I wished I could have returned the compliment.
“Good evening, Jillian.” Thomas smiled and took my hand, covering it with his. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
I glanced at Evelyn out of the corner of my eye and noticed the obvious jealousy she felt at her husband’s comment.
“You both are very kind.” I tried to change the subject. “What a pity Regina couldn’t be here tonight. She worked so hard to achieve the ball’s success.”
“Yes, it is a pity.” Thomas looked serious. “Regina always put everything she had into a project. She used to come into the nursery to deliver orders with the order in one hand and a horticulture book in the other. She’d say, ‘If you want something badly enough, you’ll do whatever it takes.’”
I had to ask. “What did she want badly enough, Thomas?”
He appeared rather flustered. “Regina was working on a project for the government. If she succeeded she’d be set for life.”
Evelyn turned to Thomas and ignored me altogether. “How do you know about what Regina was doing? I didn’t think you even talked to that...that....”
“Now, dear.” Thomas patted her flabby upper arm. “Let’s not speak ill of the dead.”