Since Logan seemed to be in the know about William/ Koo Koo, I asked if he knew what his day job was.
“He teaches English at a private school and does a lot of tutoring. He dropped a few hints that he might be making some changes in his life soon.”
“Sounds like he might be getting married,” Elise said, and I suddenly had an image of Adele as a bride. No question, with her sense of style she wouldn’t be wearing a white dress. More likely purple or magenta.
Logan shrugged. “I listen, but I don’t ask.”
“You didn’t blink twice, did you?” Elise said, her voice heavy with disappointment, for a second, anyway. Her mind started working again and her eyes brightened. “What about Nicholas?” She focused on my face, trying to keep track of my blinks again, while I tried to change the subject. I noticed something black and white was overflowing from her project bag on the chair next to her.
“What are you making?” I asked, touching it.
She pulled it out and displayed it on the table. “It’s a vampire scarf.” When I didn’t get it, she explained. The white stripes were pale and chalky like a vampire’s complexion, the black ones were for their color of choice for clothes. Anthony was big on black turtlenecks and black fine wool slacks. Even the half double crochet stitches looked like tiny fangs, she said, indicating the pointy edges of the stitches. She was going to add pointy edging with a fanglike shape at the ends of the scarf and the final touch—a red tassel. She didn’t have to tell me why anything scarlet reminded her of vampires.
“And think of it,” she said, “what is the most vampire-centric part of the body? The neck,” she said, stroking hers in an exaggerated manner.
I’d gotten sidetracked from my real purpose. I’d already thought it out and decided to ask questions first, because once I told Logan about Bradley’s suicide, I didn’t think he’d be interested in answering.
Logan was on the short side, with an aura of cheerful-ness, which worked well for being in real estate. He had a weird hairline that made it look like he was wearing a cap. It was a little touchy figuring out how to mention Bradley without bringing up the suicide, but at the same time not making it sound like he was alive. I finally just said, “You know Bradley Perkins, don’t you?” Then instead of continuing, I let it hang in the air.
“Know him?” Logan said with a laugh. “You could say so. He’s the best thing that happened to us.” He smiled at his wife and she nodded in agreement. “You joined his fund, didn’t you?” When I said I hadn’t, he seemed surprised. “If you want, I can help you get in. The investment club has become so popular Bradley had to limit who he would let join.”
I mumbled something about having to think about it. Logan took my comment to mean I didn’t know enough about the fund to want to put my money in and he began what seemed like a sales pitch.
“I met Bradley and Emily when I sold them their house,” Logan said. He detailed how he and Bradley had gotten talking and Bradley had mentioned making a lot of money on stocks. “The guy has a knack for buying and selling securities. It’s amazing. He has some secret system. He calls it Strike and Split.” Logan let the comment sink in before continuing on. “I don’t remember exactly how it came up, but I asked him if he’d be interested in letting me put some money in with his.” Logan said Bradley had been hesitant at first, but then thought it was a good idea. “I just threw in a little money and in a few months he gave me a check that covered just the profit on my money. It was a nice hunk of change,” Logan said. He turned to his wife. “That’s what we used to remodel the kitchen, remember?”
“Like I would forget. It’s not every day you get your dream kitchen. Thank you, Bradley,” she said before taking a bite of Logan’s cheese plate.
“So, then I gave him more of our money and I’d told some other people about Bradley and they wanted in, too. He started calling it a club and it seemed like everybody wanted in. Finally, he made up some rules about whose money he would take. I’m always hearing from somebody around here, asking me to put in a good word for them.”
“Wow, I had no idea,” I said when he finished. Who would have guessed, looking at the Perkins’ house? It was nice and all, but hardly fitting someone who was that successful. Logan said that was part of Bradley’s appeal.
“Bradley charges a small fee for handling the fund—just enough to cover his expenses. He doesn’t go in for fancy offices and an extravagant lifestyle. He’s one of us.”
Now I’d come to the hard part. It was obvious Logan was done giving out information and I had to break the news about Bradley. “When was the last time you talked to Bradley?” I asked.
Logan thought a moment. “I don’t know, maybe a week ago.”
“Did you know that he went missing a few days ago?”
Logan made a dismissive shrug. “Elise mentioned something. She heard he and Emily had some kind of argument and he’d taken off for a few days. I was going to call him, but I decided it was best to stay out of it. I was kind of surprised, though. They are such a perfect couple. I can’t imagine them having that big a fight.”
I swallowed hard. “So, if something were to happen to Bradley, who would take over this fund you were talking about?”
“Interesting question,” Logan said. “Well, Bradley is the club, so no one could take his place. I suppose all the stocks in the fund would be sold and the money divided up to the members. I’m glad you brought that up. I’m going to talk to Bradley about it. He’s a young guy in good health, but it’s a good idea to have all bases covered.”
“It might be too late.” The words slipped out before I could stop them and Logan’s head jutted forward.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
Suddenly I didn’t want to say any more. I knew he wasn’t going to react well. “Maybe you should talk to Emily and get the exact wording in his note.”
“What kind of note?” Logan asked. It was like a shade had been pulled over his upbeat demeanor.
I just repeated that he ought to talk to Emily as I excused myself. He grabbed his cell phone, and as I headed back to my table, I saw him start running his hand over his hair as if he was trying to soothe himself and I realized Logan must have been who Mason overheard. What had Mason said—that it sounded like the guy was working for Bradley. Hmm.
CHAPTER 9
“MISSION ACCOMPLISHED,” I SAID AS I SLID BACK in my chair. There was no joy in my voice. I looked across the bookstore cafe toward Logan. He was still on the phone and I could tell by his expression he’d heard the bad news. He’d lost his golden goose and there’d be no more golden eggs. I told Dinah what Logan had said he thought would happen in the event of Bradley being out of the picture. “It might take a while since no doubt there will be lawyers involved, but Mrs. Shedd should get her money. At least some of it,” I said. “Bradley mentioned some business problems in his note. I’m guessing it means his special system didn’t work and he made some bad investments.” Dinah seemed preoccupied as I spoke and grabbed my wrist when I’d finished.
“You have to be my wingman.” Dinah’s gaze darted toward the door and then back to me. She straightened Ashley-Angela’s blue shirt and fluffed E. Conner’s golden blond hair. “It’s Commander,” she said. Dinah, who could practically make her freshmen cry with just a look, was not her usual confident self.
“You never told him about Ashley-Angela and E. Conner, did you?” I said.
Dinah slumped forward and shook her head. “I was going to tell him all about them before I invited them, but there was one thing and then another ...” She glanced over toward the kids, who were happily drawing and eating mini-croissants with Swiss cheese. “Okay, I just didn’t. And now it’s really awkward.”
“Showtime,” I said under my breath as the door to the cafe opened and Commander Blaine hesitated in the doorway. When he saw Dinah, his face lit up like a three-hundred-watt halogen bulb, and with a buzz of energy in his step, he headed toward our table. Commander was a nickname leftover from childhood. His real name was Sylvester, which Dinah thought sounded like some kind of synthetic yarn. I guess that’s what happens when you have yarn on the brain, you see everything in terms of it.
He crossed the space in a few steps and leaned down to give Dinah a greeting kiss before pulling up a chair from a nearby table and sitting down. Commander had thick white hair, which made his complexion appear even ruddier. He had a wiry build that seemed unaffected by his age, which I guessed to be in his late fifties. It was obvious that it wasn’t occurring to him that the kids sitting at the table were with Dinah.
