Raising Prosperity Page 16

  “You’re a lifesaver, Prosperity!” Meghan threw her arms around Prosperity and hugged her tight, her bangles jangling loudly in Prosperity’s ear. “I won’t let you down.”

  “Mmmm. I hope not.” Prosperity went to step out of the car, giving Meghan no option but to follow. “I’ll see you on Friday. Try to keep yourself out of trouble until then.”

  The day passed quickly, with a replacement professor hastily dredged up from somewhere to stand in for the absent Professor Leigh, and Prosperity left the campus at the end of the day feeling as if she’d achieved a lot. Graduation day was creeping closer, she was confident of a high grade, and she would finally have a physical certification to show the world that Prosperity Moonbeam Spartanburg really did have what it takes. It had been a long, winding, rutted road to get here but the end was now in sight. She brushed away a sudden tear. Serendipity and Rolling Stone would be so proud.

  She used the rear vision mirror in her Beetle to apply lipstick and fix her hair. She was meeting Blaine for an early bowling game before dinner and although she wasn’t feeling thrilled about the date, she was determined not to cancel. Work and study had taken up a lot of her time lately and she needed to make space in her agenda for socializing, even it was just with Blaine Kennedy.

  Blaine greeted her enthusiastically as she walked up to meet him outside the bowling alley. “Here she is! My favorite little Forensic Pathologist!”

  “Blaine … ” Prosperity raised her cheek for a kiss. “I do have a name.”

  He gave her a cheeky grin. “Yes, I know. I’ve heard it often enough in my dreams.”

  “On that note, prepare yourself for your worst nightmare. I’m about to beat your ass.” She marched in ahead of him, confident in her abilities with a bowling ball. No one had ever called Prosperity Spartanburg, holder of the Eagle Cup, a fumble fingers.

  As it turned out, Blaine wasn’t too bad either but then he did have his name on an Eagle & Dolphin Cup of his own. The game was hard, fast, and competitive and Prosperity was delighted to find that Blaine was a worthy opponent. She didn’t quite beat his ass, but she did win by a narrow margin and that was good enough for her after the arduous game they’d played.

  Blaine wiped his brow and offered his congratulations. “You have a real knack for bowling turkeys.”

  “I do,” she said modestly. “My daddy taught me how to bowl almost as soon as I could walk. He always told me to aim for turkeys, watch my follow through, and keep away from the foul line.”

  “Sounds like my dating life. Are you ready to eat?”

  “Sure am. A juicy steak sounds like the perfect winner’s dinner.”

  “Wanna ride in Madame Ruth? I guarantee satisfaction at the end of every ride.” Blaine waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “You know what, I think I will. Can you drop me back here later to pick up my Beetle?” Prosperity’s low mood had shifted during the bowling tournament.

  She felt lighthearted and ready for a fun night out with a man whom she was beginning to think wasn’t too bad after all.

  “Your wish is my command.” Blaine offered her his arm. “Your chariot awaits, Miss Spartanburg.”

  Madame Ruth was a smooth ride and Prosperity was more than willing to admit it. The truck had somehow managed to keep its new car smell and the interior was gorgeously pristine and clean. They chatted about school and Prosperity told him some light details about the Ophelia case as they drove across to Bad Moon Rising, omitting anything that was still too sensitive for the ears of the public. Everything now pointed to Lance Kruger as the culprit but it would never do for word to get out before Reuben spoke to him.

  In turn, Blaine told her a story about a fire the volunteer brigade attended at a frat girl BBQ party that had gotten out of hand after someone decided it was a great idea to use a bottle of methylated spirits as an accelerant. Prosperity eyed Blaine’s muscular thighs and enormous hands as he drove and related the tale, imagining him in his firefighter uniform striding out to rescue all the damsels in distress. She decided that if she was ever in need of saving from an out of control fire, Firefighter Kennedy was the man she’d want coming in to carry her out.

  Their steak dinner and the rest of the evening continued in the same enjoyable, relaxed vein. Blaine, now that he’d dropped his patronizing comments and over eager manner, was an amicable dinner companion with a clever wit and a lot of intriguing stories to tell. Prosperity wasn’t sure how long this new version of Blaine would last but she was making the most of it while it did.

  Blaine drove her back to her car after their meal and they sat in Madame Ruth for a while, continuing a conversation about a movie they’d each watched recently. Prosperity wasn’t quite sure how it happened as she was sure she hadn’t seen it coming, but one minute Blaine was extolling the virtues of Brad Pitt’s big screen performance and the next, his lips were on hers.

  There were no two ways about it—it was a nice kiss. Firm but soft, with just the right amount of passion for a first kiss. Prosperity enthusiastically kissed Blaine back for several minutes before drawing away.

  “I should go. It was a lovely evening but I’m not looking for romance right now, Blaine. I have a lot going on.”

  “As you keep telling me.” He grinned across at her in the dim light of the cab. “You’re a fine woman. I like you. I like you a lot. I’m not going to give up on you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I like you too, and I’m not the sort of person anyone should give up on. Thanks for a great night. I enjoyed it.”

  “Remember we need a rematch sometime soon. It’s not good for my ego to find myself beaten by a little slip of a girl.”

  She returned his smile in the darkness as she opened the door. “Ah, that’s the Blaine I know so well. You’re back to your usual patronizing self. You had me worried there for a moment. I’m in the office tomorrow but I might see you at school on Wednesday.”

  “I hope so. Bye, Prosperity.”

  32

  Hands Of A Lady

  Prosperity pulled into the Police Department parking lot just as Reuben strode out of the building, his face set into grim lines that definitely meant business. Prosperity jumped out of the Beetle and ran towards his car as he began to reverse out of the parking bay.

  “Ruby, wait! Where are you going?”

  He quickly wound down the window.

  “Get in. Kruger has been sighted hiding out in a secluded cabin at Deep Bottom. I’ve sent the team on ahead to make sure he stays where he is until I get there.”

  Prosperity didn’t need to be asked twice. She scrambled into the passenger seat and buckled up, slamming the door behind her.

  “Do you think he somehow got wind that we were onto him?”

  “Probably. It’s hard to keep a lid on anything for long on the island. Let’s hope we can finally get the Ophelia case wrapped up today. I have a good feeling about this.”

  The shack at Deep Bottom was a rustic affair, nestled in amongst a leafy oasis of pine trees with a pleasant view of Tisbury Great Pond. The badly parked cop cars surrounding the cabin were a little jarring to the otherwise idyllic scene but aside from that, this looked to be the kind of place a person might come to relax and unwind—or hide out.

  Reuben marched confidently up to the door, clearly a man who knew his job and was about to show the world how well he could do it. Prosperity skipped along beside him, excited for another chance to watch him at his professional best.

  Lance, just as fox-faced as his publicity photo in real life, was sitting on the sofa by the window. Officer Ryley and another cop who Prosperity knew by sight sat on either side of him. Lance looked disdainfully at the new arrivals, clearly not impressed.

  “It took you long enough.”

  “Good things take time, Lance. Good things take time.” Reuben grabbed a chair by the back and spun it around so he could take a seat in front of his suspect. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

  He nodded imperceptibly at
Ryley and the other officer and both men got up to stand behind the sofa.

  Prosperity leaned up against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself, thrilled to have an up close view of what she knew would be a skilled interrogation of a man whom she now wholeheartedly believed to be Ophelia’s murderer.

  Reuben started out on a conversational note. “Feel like telling me why you’re hiding out in the woods?”

  Lance grunted and stared over Reuben’s head at a mounted stag’s head on the far wall. “Felt like having a vacation.”

  “Your fancy yacht wasn’t vacation enough? By the way, I like what you’ve done with the décor.”

  Lance looked at him sharply. “That’s private property.”

  “So I’ve heard. What can you tell me about Ophelia Rump?”

  “Ophelia Rump?” Lance knitted his brows and pretended to search his brain for the name.

  Reuben’s tone hardened.

  “Drop the act, Kruger. How about we try this a different way? I’ll tell you what we’ve got and you can give me an explanation. Firstly, how have the charms from Miss Rump’s missing charm bracelet ended up as giveaways in bags of Blue Jay candy?”

  “Nothing to do with me. As far as I’m aware, they’re cheap knockoffs from a Taiwanese factory.”

  “It’s everything to do with you and you know better than anyone that we’re not talking about cheap knockoffs. Blue Jay is under your jurisdiction and my sources tell me that the charm bags are sold nowhere else but on Martha’s Vineyard. It doesn’t take a mastermind to work out that someone placed the expensive trinkets in the packs soon after they were stolen from Ophelia’s wrist.”

  Lance went to stand up but Ryley leaned over and laid a firm hand on his shoulder to prevent him moving.

  “Thanks, Ryley.” Reuben flicked a glance at the officer before returning his flinty stare to where Lance sat in disgruntled silence. “It was you who distributed the charms, wasn’t it?”

  “Might have been. Might not have been. Seems to me you have no proof either way.”

  “Next question. Why did you kill Ophelia?”

  Lance appeared genuinely taken aback by this sudden turn of events. “Steady on. You’ve got nothing on me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We have everything on you. Can you tell me what Spinner means to the Blue Jay candy factory?”

  It was Prosperity’s turn to look sharply at Reuben. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about Lance Kruger or Blue Jay having any connection to the Clutch Cargo or Spinner clue. However, Reuben’s face remained composed and serene as he waited for Lance’s response.

  Lance visibly sagged and Prosperity could see he’d lost some of his previous bravado. “You know about Spinners?”

  Under his breath Prosperity thought she saw him mouth the words, dammit, Marty.

  “I know more than you probably expected but I’d like to hear the story in your words. We could start with the drugs, we could start with the drug mules, we could start with the stolen charms, or we could start with the body of a bubblegum heiress. Your choice. I’m a fair man.”

  Lance appeared to be weighing up his options. After several minutes of silence, he held up his hands in defeat.

  “And what if I did kill that meddlesome bitch? Will it bring you joy to hear me admit it?”

  “No. I can’t honestly say that violent deaths bring me any happiness. Start at the beginning.”

  “You probably know that Rump Gum was about to launch a new bubblegum line. It was all highly secretive but I discovered long ago that everyone has his or her price. One of my plants at the Rump Gum factory passed me a confidential file on the new product, which was primed for launch under the name Spinner. Spinner Gum is a radical new candy that spins when it comes into contact with saliva. Basically, the candy spins on the consumer’s tongue, changing colors and creating a tingling sensation as it moves in a circle. There’s nothing like it currently on the market and as far as I’m aware, nothing like it has ever hit the market. It does create a lovely hallucinogen on the side, but that’s not my concern.”

  “But it did give Marty a nice little side business, eh? Fascinating. Anything else?”

  Lance looked pensive. “According to the file that my mole purloined from the Rump factory, the code name for the Spinner product was Clutch Cargo. I have no idea why they’d come up with such an obscure reference.”

  Reuben smiled across at Prosperity and gave her a wink that made her feel warm all over. “It makes perfect sense to us. Carry on, Lance.”

  “After decoding the Spinner file, the Blue Jay research team swung into action and quickly replicated the gum in its entirety, even down to the exact colors of the spinning wheel. We were going to launch our new gum line prior to the Rump Gum release, thus making our competitor look as if they’d copied us when they launched their range.”

  “So, what happened? Why didn’t your launch go ahead?”

  “Ophelia somehow found out. She confronted me in person and threatened a multi-million dollar lawsuit. I had no option but to permanently silence her.”

  “And so, you silenced her with a wad of Rump Gum that was tailor-made for the purpose.”

  Cold blooded and emotionless to the end, Lance shrugged his shoulders as casually as if he were talking about a change in the weather.

  “Guess that’ll be up to the lawyers to see if they can prove that, won’t it?”

  Reuben exhaled and Prosperity could see that Lance’s callousness had even managed to penetrate his carefully groomed and implacable professional visage. “And the charms? Why steal the poor girl’s beloved charm bracelet and drop the individual charms into packs of cheap candy? What was the reason for that?”

  Lance’s thin lips flattened into a nasty smirk. “She loved that bracelet. I can’t think of anything more satisfying to think of than her turning in her grave at the thought of some grubby fingered kid pulling one of her million-dollar charms out of a bag of Blue Jay candy. But again, I don’t really know how all that happened. Lawyers’ll work it out, I suppose.”

  Prosperity shuddered. She’d had more than her fair share of experience with bad men but a man who’d do what Lance had done for no greater reason than petty revenge was another matter entirely.

  Lance sniffed and looked down his beaky nose at Reuben. “Are we done?”

  Reuben nodded. “We’re done. We can talk about the drugs another day. I appreciate your cooperation, Lance. It looks as if our conversation is over. You’re in the hands of Lady Justice now. Take him away, boys.”

  He leered at Prosperity, “I do love the hands of a lady.”

  Officer Ryley and the other cop moved swiftly to grab Lance by the upper arms and haul him outside to one of the waiting police cars.

  Prosperity’s head was reeling. She felt as if she’d just sat through a high octane version of 20 Questions and she hadn’t even been the one in the hot seat. She could just imagine how discombobulated Lance was feeling right now.

  “He admitted everything, and it seems our guess that the new bubblegum line ultimately led to Ophelia’s demise was right all along. Can I ask you something, Ruby?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Reuben was industriously moving all the furniture back to where it belonged but he stopped to listen to Prosperity’s question.

  “How did you know about the Spinner-Blue Jay connection? You never said a word to me.”

  He smiled knowingly and tapped the side of his nose. “I didn’t know about it for sure. It was a pure hunch and nothing more. Women aren’t the only gender capable of acting on their intuition, Prosperity.”

  33

  Jaws Bridge

  “For you.”

  Prosperity looked up from her computer screen to see Reuben grinning down at her. A large, colorful bouquet of flowers that hadn’t been there when she walked in now sat on her desk in front of her. “Oh! They’re beautiful! But why have you brought me flowers?”

  “They’re a little symbol of my appreciation fo
r a job well done. I honestly couldn’t have done this without you, Prosperity. Kruger is behind bars, Ophelia’s family and friends have closure, and we can mark another case closed.”

  “Awwww, thanks.” She bent her head to bury her nose in the flowers. “I enjoyed every minute of it.”

  “Hey, do you still have that tube of hand-cream? This itching won’t go away. Seems to be worse during the day, for some reason.”

  “I certainly do.” Prosperity pushed the bouquet to one side and was about to reach for her bag when a commotion started up in the corridor.

  Reuben frowned at the door. “What the devil is going on out there?”

  Officer Ryley, pink cheeked and earnest, appeared in the doorway.

  “Caught him!” He hauled someone into the office and Prosperity gasped to see Terry the disgraced lab tech glowering at her from the other side of his thick-lensed glasses.

  “What’s he doing back here?” Reuben growled. “Terry, you know you have a restraining order. You’re not supposed to be within a hundred yards of the P.D.”

  Terry attempted to twist out of Ryley’s grip but the young officer was having none of it. “Stay right where you are and tell Reuben and Prosperity what you’ve been doing to the office water supply.”

  Terry set his jaw grimly and again tried to pull out of Ryley’s grip. Ryley, with an expertise that surprised Prosperity, whipped out a pair of cuffs and snapped them onto the other man’s wrists. “Tell them.”

  Terry kicked angrily at the floor but it was clear he knew he was trapped. “I threw in some additives. Nothing too harmful, just enough to cause some discomfort.”

  Prosperity stared down at her itchy, tingling hands. “The water in the bathrooms?”

  “Yeah.” He looked down at his blue Converse All-Stars.

  “Terry, I’m disappointed in you. I thought we were friends. I was even going to offer to help you choose some more flattering colors for your skin tone.” Prosperity tried to catch his eye but the lab tech refused to look at her.