“St. John Barth?” asked Lucy.
Horowitz looked at her curiously. “You know him?”
“My husband is restoring a house for the Barths, but they changed their minds. They want to sell it.”
“Barth didn’t want to be anywhere near O’Hara,” said Horowitz by way of explanation. “Barth knew too much about O’Hara.”
Lucy screwed up her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d had Barth at her dinner table the day of the murder and he’d had the answer. If only she’d asked him.
“Is something the matter?” Horowitz sounded concerned.
Lucy shook her head. “I never suspected him, not for a minute.” She shivered, thinking what a close call she’d had. “ls that why Barney came? He knew O’Hara was here?”
“Not exactly. Your boss called. I guess your conversation with O’Hara was recorded somehow on the message system. When he found out you were meeting O’Hara he was worried about your safety. It seems O’Hara had threatened him earlier today.”
Lucy shook her head. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. O’Hara wanted me to take another look at the casino plans. He said I should keep an open mind.”
“You never suspected he had killed Nolan?”
“No. I had my suspicions.” She paused. “About somebody else.”
“Ah.” Horowitz put his long fingers together. “So I guess I was right and you were wrong.”
Lucy grimaced. “I guess.”
“I hope you’ll keep that in mind in the future,” he said. “Some things are best left to the professionals. Now, go back home to your family and count your blessings, Mrs. Stone. You were very lucky today, you know.”
“I know,” said Lucy.
She managed a little smile and he gave her a nod. Then he started across the yard to his car.
Lucy watched him go for a moment, then called out, “Lieutenant! Just thought I’d let you know there’s a button missing from O’Hara’s sweater—not that it means anything, of course, but it’s worth checking out.”
“Thank you,” he said, giving her a salute.
Lucy took a last look at the sky, now a deep purplish blue, and opened the car door. Kudo was waiting for her.
“Extra rations for you tonight,” she told him. “A whole can of turkey and giblets.”
She had no sooner spoken than she could have sworn she heard a distant protesting gobble from TomTom in the barn.
“Did you hear anything?” she asked Kudo as she started the car.
There was no answer from the cargo area, but she did hear him lick his chops.
CHAPTER 23
It was a beautiful spring morning. Lucy had to admit that; who could argue with a cloudless blue sky, flowering apple trees, and gorgeous, lush lilac bushes covered with blossoms that bobbed in the warm breeze? It was the sort of day that lifted your spirits, put a smile on your face and a bounce in your step.
Nevertheless, her heart was heavy as she drove the familiar route to Andy Brown’s farm. Today the ground-breaking ceremony for the new casino was to take place and she was covering it for the newspaper. Even though she knew the casino would bring jobs and money to Tinker’s Cove, she hated to see the quiet countryside she loved become the site of a gleaming monument to greed and avarice. They called it entertainment but she knew better; gambling was simply another way to separate a fool from his money. Money that would be better spent on shoes for the children and groceries and mortgage payments.
Looking back over the last few months, Lucy could hardly believe how smoothly the casino project had progressed. One by one the expected obstacles had toppled. The Bureau of Indian Affairs had recently revised its policy on tribal recognition and had granted the Metinnicut people tribal status in record time. The state legislature, where both Democrats and Republicans were eager for increased tax revenue, had voted to approve the casino with little discussion. Faced with what appeared to be an unstoppable juggernaut, the members of the Tinker’s Cove Planning Board had been unwilling to risk embroiling the town in expensive court appeals and promptly issued the necessary approval. In a matter of months the casino project had gone from a set of paper plans to reality.
She supposed the project’s success would have assured Jack O’Hara the job he wanted so much that he was willing to kill for it. Perhaps he was taking some satisfaction from the fact that the casino would be built, from whatever section of the hereafter he was presently occupying. O’Hara hadn’t been willing to face a trial and the likelihood of spending the rest of his life in jail. Instead, he had managed a spectacular escape and had been shot by pursuing police officers. “Suicide by cop,” they called it, but Lucy suspected O’Hara was betting he could get away.
As Horowitz had told her, it was St. John Barth who fingered O’Hara in the first place. He had been the last person to see the missing secretary alive, getting in O’Hara’s car, but although he’d told the police, they had never been able to make a case against O’Hara. Barth had left the company, figuring it would be prudent to get as far away from O’Hara as he could. As he had explained to Bill, when O’Hara had turned up in Tinker’s Cove, he didn’t think he could risk an encounter. So he and Clarice had decided to sell the house. Now, with O’Hara out of the picture, the Barths had moved in and St. John was working on a true-crime book about his former nemesis.
The thought made Lucy smile as she parked the car and climbed out, checking to be sure she had her camera and notebook. As she made her way through the crowded parking
