The Marsh Madness

Kev was busy attempting to refill drinks. Most of us managed to cover our glass with our palms before he descended with the cocktail pitcher. Stoddard was the exception. With one hand he held his cocktail, and with the other Stoddard managed to snag the prosciutto crudo canapés that the signora was currently circulating with. He also eyed our special guest, Larraine Gorman, who was looking glamorous with her wild and wavy auburn hair and a deep-purple dress with a low neck. Without her playbills, we never would have found Lucas and his accomplices. Larraine didn’t seem to notice, but Doug, suddenly possessive, gave the detective a dirty look.

Our last guest to arrive was Sammy Vincovic, who blew into the room like a tropical storm. Even before dinner, his suit was straining at the seams. He seemed to be in great spirits, considering the amount of money he might have made from a trial.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, generously. “Things have a way of workin’ out. You’re looking good, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I said with pleasure. I was wearing my raspberry dress again.

Sammy glanced down to see that Walter and both the Siamese were advancing toward him. Good Cat sidled up and managed a silky caress against one leg. Bad Cat headed for the other.

I gasped. “Look out!” But it appeared that Sammy was invincible, a nice trait in defense counsel.

By the time we all sat down at the long Sheraton table, set with gleaming silver and glittering crystal, more than one truce seemed to have been struck. I was seated between Smiley and Sammy. Everyone watched with interest as Uncle Kev poured the wine. Vera had produced several bottles that had been aging expensively in the Van Alst wine cellar since her father placed them there, back in the day.

Sammy broke the silence that settled over our odd little group. He nodded at Castellano and Stoddard. “So, Detectives, I understand you’ve both received commendations for your work on the Chadwick Kauffman case.”

Castellano nodded gravely, although she did narrow her eyes a bit. Probably wondering what Sammy was up to. Stoddard just showed most of his teeth in a grin. I attributed much of that grin to the moonshine cocktail.

Castellano added, “As did Officer Dekker.”

Vera said, “Good for Officer Dekker. Perhaps he’ll become Detective Dekker after this.”

Stoddard merely slouched a bit more. You could tell he didn’t care for that idea.

Castellano said after an embarrassingly long minute, “Unfortunately, we have no openings for detectives for the foreseeable future.

Naturally, the telltale pink blush transformed Smiley’s face.

Sammy helped deflect our attention by leaning back in his seat and saying, “So everything’s cleared up now?”

Castellano said, “Pretty much. We’ve turned up the delivery driver who saw Miss Van Alst, Kevin Kelly and Jordan Bingham leave Summerlea. He confirms that there were still people in the house after you left.”

I blurted, “I told you he was real. But after Lucas admitted on tape what he’d done, why do you need to keep checking with witnesses?”

Stoddard said, “We have to dot every i and cross every t. We even found the caterer who delivered the food for the luncheon, and we can connect her to Shelby Church, not that we can charge the caterer with anything. She appears to be above board.”

I knew that it was Smiley who’d done that footwork, even though there was no way he’d be breaking in as a detective.

Castellano gave Stoddard a poisonous look. “More important, Miranda Schneider broke down under questioning and admitted her roles in the crimes, including planting stolen goods in Michael Kelly’s Fine Antiques.”

“You had evidence of that.”

“Everything matters. Lawyers can make everything look different in court. We needed to nail down her testimony. Lucas Warden had dumped her once he got what he wanted. After Chadwick Kauffman died, he convinced her that she’d been an accessory to murder for providing the key and the security code. She was trapped, but now she’ll testify against him in return for a deal. She is terrified.”

“Rightly so,” said Lance.

I wondered about Miranda. How different were we? We’d both been deceived by a psychopath. I was the lucky one. He only got my money and he gave me a few scary days. He hadn’t involved me in someone else’s murder.