Клео Коул - Murder by Mocha

“I know what I heard,” I said, and was about to continue when—

“No! Please, no!”

The terrified shout was followed by a piercing scream, then—

SPLASH !

I hurried to the door. The corridor was empty, Minthe gone.

Where is Minthe? Where did she go?

The hatch to the outside walkway was open wide, night air flowing in. Alicia, Madame, and Aphrodite followed me across the carpeted hallway. Once outside, I saw a crumpled form on the deck. The ladies behind me gasped.

I dropped to my knee and checked the woman for a pulse. She moaned when I touched her then turned her face to the light.

“It’s Susan Chu!” I glanced at Madame. “Get help, find a doctor!”

Madame nodded and hurried off, leaving Alicia and Aphrodite behind. I touched the back of Susan’s head and felt blood. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Daphne! Where’s Daph?”

“She’s not here, Susan.”

“But she was. She was !” Clutching my arm, she looked around, eyes pools of fear. “She was right here, with me. Daphne was telling me she’d found something on her boss’s computer. She said Sherri was furious and going to end her. Then Daph pointed behind me. She looked horrified, confused . . .”

She touched the back of her head, pulled away fingers stained with red.

“What happened next?” I asked. “Susan! What happened?”

Susan stared mutely at her bloody fingers, began sobbing hysterically. I looked up and down the deck for Daphne. Where was she?

Alicia and Aphrodite didn’t appear to care. They weren’t even looking at me, or poor Susan. They stood with mouths gaping, staring at a word spray-painted on the bulkhead.

RUFINA.

“It’s from your college thesis,” Alicia told Aphrodite in a voice of shock and dread. “But who would remember? They’re dead. Everyone is dead!”

That’s when I noticed Daphne Krupa’s pink-and-orange polka-dot scarf, caught on the deck railing a few feet away. I rose and looked over the side. One long end of the brightly colored silk was now trailing in the deathly dark water. Remembering that loud splash, I felt sick to my stomach.

“Help!” I yelled. “I need help! A woman’s been thrown overboard!”

I heard fast footsteps along the walkway. A young Korean-American couple led several crewmen to our aid. I’d seen this man and woman in the crowd, but I thought they were members of the press. Now I blinked in surprise when they flashed their gold shields—these were the undercovers from Queens!

“A woman was thrown overboard,” I told them. “A young woman named Daphne Krupa.”

Soon after, bells sounded and a voice came over the PA system. “Passenger overboard. Passenger overboard...”

The Argonaut lurched as the engines shifted tempo, and the yacht began the careful process of turning around in midchannel.

As Susan Chu was helped into a state room, the male detective cornered Alicia and Aphrodite, and herded them away. The woman detective approached me. “Let’s talk.”

Twenty minutes later I was staring at the espresso-colored water that was churning into foam in the wake of our passing.

The Argonaut had long since sailed over the area where Daphne had been lost. Rescue helicopters and several boats still circled the perimeter, their searchlights playing across the river’s glassy surface. I hadn’t given up all hope, but I doubted Daphne had merely been tossed into the drink. Just like Patrice Stone, she’d probably been bludgeoned before she was dumped over the side.

I told Queens sergeant Grace Kwan all of that and more, replying to her many questions. Shortly after my interview ended, she consulted with her male partner, who’d interviewed Susan Chu. Before we returned to the pier, Sherri Sellars was taken into custody.

“Why would I kill Daphne?” Sherri cried as the two detectives cuffed her. “I protected that poor girl! I trained her to be my Web master. Why would I do anything to harm her?”

I agreed with Sherri. It didn’t make any sense, despite the things Daphne told Susan. Could poor dead Daphne have been fooled by false evidence on Sherri’s computer?

As the yacht steamed back toward its home, Matt and Madame rejoined me. I asked after Joy, and Matt said she was helping Tucker break down the catering stuff. According to Madame, Alicia was still being questioned by the police.

I told them about Sherri’s arrest. Madame was shocked, but Matt wasn’t surprised. “When I shook Sherri’s hand, I saw her dilated pupils, her flushed complexion. Take it from a guy who knows, the Luv Doctor has a special relationship with white powder, and tonight she was coked to the gills.”

“That must be why she couldn’t produce any witnesses for her whereabouts when Daphne was attacked,” I said. “She slipped off to feed her habit.”

Matt nodded. “She sure looked like she needed a fix after her talk. And when you need cocaine that much, you’re just about crazy enough to do anything, including toss your assistant over the side.”

“That doesn’t sound like the kind of calculating killer who sent phony letters to entrap Maya, Alicia, and me. And you need self-control to paint a word over a bulkhead after you’ve beaten two girls down and thrown one over the side.”

“What are you saying, Clare?”

“I think Sherri is being framed.”

As we approached the pier, the captain warned us over the PA system that everyone would have to wait until police business was concluded before we would be permitted to disembark. Despite that directive, all the guests assembled on the lower deck, close to the exit, as the Argonaut berthed.

I noticed a lot of activity on our dock. Not a shock, considering all that had happened. But I was surprised to see two familiar faces among the crowd. As soon as the gangplank dropped into place, Manhattan detectives Lori Soles and Sue Ellen Bass led a foursome of uniformed officers aboard.

I tried to speak to them, but the Fish Squad quickly disappeared below deck. Moments later, Sherri Sellars was escorted down the plank by Detective Kwan and her partner.

Two minutes after that, Soles and Bass reappeared. Alicia Bower was now walking between them. Her head was down, her hands cuffed behind her back.

I ran up to them. “Lori! What’s going on?”

Alicia turned when she heard my voice. “Clare! Help me!”

“Quiet,” Sue Ellen barked.

Lori Soles stopped to speak with me while Sue Ellen and two other officers proceeded down the ramp. As Alicia was pulled along, she called over her shoulder. “Bay Creek Women’s College! Find Aphrodite’s thesis. Find it, Clare!”

“You have to let me speak to Alicia!” I begged Lori.

“That’s not going to happen, Cosi.”

“But—”

“We got a nice print from a piece of the victim’s smart-phone that the killer tossed off the Garden’s rooftop. It took time, but we found it—and matched it with a print on file in Long Island. We now have a solid case against Alicia Bower for the murder of Patrice Stone.”

“Listen to me! There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that print. Ask Alicia. She’ll tell you—”

“Alicia will have her day in court,” Lori said before turning away.

Matt appeared beside me, put a hand on my shoulder. “You know, Clare. You did think Alicia was the murderer.”

“Because that’s what the killer wanted me to think. But Alicia’s not a murderer—and I don’t think Sherri is, either. Someone went to great lengths to frame Alicia and Sherri. Someone wanted to frame them both.”

“Clare’s right,” Madame told her son, lips tight. “Alicia is not a murderer.” She faced me, her violet eyes welling. “We have to fix this. We have to help her.”