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Tidwell looked at Riley. “Get the number and call him.”
Riley walked off a few feet to make his call, while Quaid said, “You people have to believe me, I don’t know anything about what happened here tonight.” He was sweating now and his eyes were bugged out. “I’ve never even met Mrs. Deveroux.”
“Too late now,” Tidwell said as Riley rejoined the group. He glanced at Riley and said, “Well?”
“Mr. Jasper didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“And you believed him?” Tidwell asked.
Riley nodded. “I’d have to say…yes.”
“Someone sent Quaid here on purpose,” Theodosia said suddenly. “To serve as a patsy, a decoy, a suspect, whatever.”
“I think Theodosia might be right,” Riley said.
Tidwell scuffed the toe of his loafer against the sidewalk. “Maybe,” he said. “Possibly.” Then to Quaid, “You still have that voice mail on your phone?”
“Sure,” Quaid said.
Tidwell reached out a big paw. “Hand it over. I’ll see if our techs can trace the call.”
Quaid gave Tidwell his phone. “When will I get it back?”
“When we’re done with it,” Tidwell said. Then he frowned and gazed across the street, where a banged-up SUV had just pulled in. “Hell’s bells,” he said. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Bill Glass came chugging across the street. He had two cameras slung around his neck and was busy thumbing his iPhone.
Earl Grey strained at his leash and growled.
“This just came across my police scanner!” Glass shouted. He was wearing the same pair of shoes because Theodosia could hear one of the soles slapping against the pavement. “There’s been another murder?” When nobody answered, he said, “It must be the Deveroux lady. Which means this has to be directly related to the film director guy, right?”
Tidwell stepped in front of everyone to block Bill Glass’s approach. “Go away,” he said in a curt tone of voice. “No press, no comment.”
“Come on,” Glass wheedled. “You guys gotta give me something.”
Bill Glass peeked around Tidwell’s bulk, saw Theodosia standing there, and said, “This is about the film director, isn’t it? And now there’s been a second murder?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Tidwell said.
“No problem,” Glass said with an excited yelp. “The look on Miss Browning’s face says it all!”
“Look?” snarled Tidwell.
“Yeah, she looks like she’s just seen a ghost.” Bill Glass’s head spun left, then right. “No other press here yet. Hot-cha. Looks like I’m the first. So when’s the press conference? Later tonight? First thing tomorrow? When are we gonna get all the dirty details?”
Tidwell just lowered his head and glowered.
* * *
Theodosia turned down a ride from Riley. Instead, she wanted to walk home with Earl Grey and not face any more nattering questions. She needed time to think, to process what had happened. And riding with Riley, as dear as he was to her, would have meant an endless stream of questions along with the constant buzz and crackle of his police radio.
Besides, it was a lovely evening. Trees rustled softly in the breeze off the Atlantic and old-fashioned streetlamps gave off a golden glow. With all the trees and wrought-iron fences along the way, moon shadows danced everywhere, looking like some kind of elegant nighttime stencil. And it was still nice and warm, though summer’s spell was beginning to fade and autumn was slowly coming on.
Just as Theodosia turned down Meeting Street, a black Mercedes emerged from the darkness, coasted to the curb just ahead of her, and stopped. She slowed her pace, nerves starting to prickle.
Will this night never end?
The driver’s-side window slid down with a purr and a male voice called, “Hey, tea lady, mind if I have a word with you?”
