Анна Керн - A Paw-sible Theory

“What about Dan Ramsey?”

“I think Dan Ramsey is more envious of our influence over the other merchants, than he is resentful of the changes Maggie and I suggested. Before Antiques moved in, everything closed down at five in the evening and on Sundays. It took Maggie and me three months to convince the Downtown Merchants Association to see the wisdom of extending their daily hours and staying open seven days a week. The resistance came mostly from the merchants who regarded their business as a hobby rather than a business. Some still resent the change, the most vocal being Dan Ramsey. Judging from his outburst at the Merchant’s Association meeting, he looked angry enough to want to kill me, but I don’t think it was him.”

“Either one––jealousy or resentment––can be a motive for murder,” Hunter said as he pulled a business card from his coat pocket and wrote his home phone number on the back.

“If you remember anything else, anything at all, call my office, my cell phone or my home if it’s after business hours.”

“If there is a trial, what are Ethan’s chances?”

“At this point, the prosecution’s case is strong. No doubt, they will, bring up the fact that Ethan needed cash to keep up with his acquired tastes. They will press the issue that he stood to gain the most by the sale of the building, and that he tried to kill you because you wouldn’t sell, or maybe your arguing just got out of hand. If he’s found guilty, he could receive the minimum of three years. There’s always a chance he could be found not guilty––there’s also the possibility he could receive a life sentence.”

“I don’t want to put you on the spot, but I’d like to be kept in the loop regarding Ethan’s defense. However, I do understand that, officially, my ex-husband Bob is your client, and you don’t have to tell me anything.”

He hesitated and looked away before answering her silent plea.

“I give Bob a transcribed copy of all my interviews; I’ll be glad to ask for his authorization to give you a copy as well.”

Alyx smiled and reached for his hand. “Thank you.”

“For a good cat, a good rat.”

–– French Proverb

CHAPTER NINETEEN: Antiques, Tours, and Interviews

It had been a while since I’d last been downtown and the walk down Ocean Street gave me the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the area. The renovation of the business area had been completed and the main street was now home to antique stores, art galleries, unique boutiques, and quaint sidewalk cafés. The buildings were mostly art deco style, recently repainted in various shades of beige, aqua and pink, colorful canopies topping the doors and windows.

I had learned from a report that Ethan did in college that the 1910 bank building I passed housed a museum, and just down the street, where the residential area began, the Live Oak House dating back to 1700 overlooked the marina. Four hundred years old, live oak trees surrounded the current house built in 1871; the original structure having burned down during the second Seminole Indian War. Also in the heart of the old downtown area was another registered historic house built in 1912 of coquina limestone created by centuries of transforming sand, shell and coral.

I stopped to look at the display window at Alyx and Maggie’s shop, Antiques & Designs, admiring the beautifully crafted desk in excellent condition that was tucked in the corner of the display. I saw David Hunter driving down the street, looking for a parking spot, so I quickly entered the store.

Many of the antique stores that Alyx had taken me to had been either full of stodgy dark antiques, or so full of junk you had to dig your way through to find anything worthwhile. Antiques & Designs was different; here customers found a bright and orderly display of goods set up to look much like the rooms in a lived-in home, the antiques mixed in with vintage furniture. Some of the items evolved from other things with previous lives, such as the corner-shelf created from two louvered bi-fold door panels and the bench that had had a previous life as a headboard.

The space was open with only the furniture delineating the various rooms. Off to the side, towards the middle of the space was a wide, majestic staircase curving up to the loft area on the second floor.

An attractive, flamboyantly-dressed woman in her thirties walked up to Hunter and offered to assist him. “I’m here to see Maggie Broeck. Are you Ms. Broeck?”

“No, I’m Bernice. Maggie is with a customer now. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked pleasantly. Hunter handed her his business card and told her he just needed to speak to Maggie for a few minutes.

Bernice glanced at the card. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He smiled a thank you and watched her disappear up the curving staircase. A few minutes later, Maggie came down the stairs. Attractive in a conventional way, Maggie was dressed in a conservative, turquoise suit. The warm, friendly personality she presented was genuine. She introduced herself and directed Hunter to the office in the rear of the store. I followed unseen.

In contrast to the décor of the store, the office was completely modern-day and functional. Maggie offered Hunter some coffee, which he declined, poured herself a cup and sat behind the desk. He took a seat next to the desk, pulled out a notebook and recorder from his briefcase, and placed the briefcase on the floor, next to his chair.

“How can I help you, Mr. Hunter?”

“Call me David. I’d like to ask you some questions, just to clear up a few points. Do you mind if I record the conversation? You strike me as someone who has a lot to say and I don’t take shorthand.”

“You’re right; I usually do have a lot to say, but not about what happened to Alyx. I have no idea who or why someone would want to hurt her.”

“I understand. My questions, however, are about you. I know you have access to the house, but your statement to the police makes no mention of it. Why didn’t you tell them you have a key?”

She looked down. “I don’t know. I’m not good at analyzing my actions. I did tell Ethan I’d be taking care of the cats and the house. I assumed he understood I had a key. If I had anything to hide I wouldn’t have done that.”

David Hunter had his questions written down and moved on to number two.

“Alyx’s ex-husband Bob Hille overheard a conversation you were having on the phone outside of Alyx’s hospital room.”

I watched Maggie closely for a reaction. A look of disdain crossed her face at the mention of Bob’s name. She essentially said that she had been surprised at Alyx’s reaction about moving the business and had enlisted Ethan to help.

“Who was the realtor who contacted you?”

“His name is Rupert Moresby. His wife, Novie, owns the Ocean Street Café, next door to our business, as a matter of fact.”

“Did you discuss the offer with her?”

“Yes, I did. Rupert mentioned that the developer, James Dunne, was also interested in buying the building where the café is located. I wanted to see what Novie’s feelings were about selling. I got the impression Rupert wanted it to happen more than she did.”

Hunter flipped his notebook to another page. “Ethan mentioned there was some resentment on the part of some of the business owners regarding being pressured to expand their business hours. Can you give more background on that?”

“Ethan and I talked about that before his arrest. He asked me if I knew of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Alyx. I told him I didn’t know of any problems among the people we knew, and he reminded me about a nasty confrontation with Dan Ramsey a couple of months back. His store is two doors north,” she said, indicating the direction with her head.