A Murder in Mohair (26 page)

But Edie was still talking and Lucy focused again.

“The police have put a bug in Nora's head with all these questions. Telling her that maybe Richard and Cassandra were having an affair. Nothing he says can convince her otherwise. Even if the police leave her alone and find the person who really did it, their marriage is still one big train wreck. A smoking, steaming, twisted pile of metal,” Edie told them. “If it wasn't for Dale, I doubt they'd stick together at all,” she added in a hushed tone.

Lucy and Maggie shared a quick glance. There was nothing Lucy could think of to say. Neither could Maggie, it seemed.

She heard a cell phone ring and Edie whipped hers from a pocket. “It's Richard,” she said, glancing at the caller's name.

She greeted him and listened intently. Lucy watched her grim expression suddenly brighten. She held the phone away from her ear for a moment. “They're letting her go. She'll be home in an hour,” she reported.

Maggie released a breath. “Good news.”

“Very good,” Lucy agreed. She had also been holding her breath without even realizing it.

Edie concluded the call and looked back at them. “The lawyer made them release her. They couldn't charge her with a thing. All they found was a fingernail. On the floor of the shop or something. They say it was one of Cassandra's tips. You know, those long, blue stick-on nails she always wore?”

Lucy remembered them well. They looked like extraterrestrial claws, Lucy thought.

Maggie shrugged. “That could have fallen off when Cassandra was in the shop. Or it could have even gotten caught on a piece of Nora's clothes, anytime that Nora was with Cassandra. It doesn't prove a thing.”

Edie shrugged. “Exactly. Richard says they were badgering her, trying to make her remember when Cassandra was in the shop. How is Nora supposed to know where, when, and how the woman lost a nail tip? Give me a break.”

Lucy agreed. But she didn't want to distract Edie and send her spinning off on another diatribe about the police department.

“Was there anything else?” Maggie asked.

Edie shook her head. “That's all Richard said. They were also badgering Richard, about a car mat missing from Nora's Prius. Richard said he got some paint on it and it wouldn't come off, so he threw it out. He was planning on ordering a new one but never got around to it.”

“A car mat? On what side of the car, did he say?”

Edie thought a moment. “Passenger, I think.” She shrugged. “What's the difference. It doesn't add up to an empty cup of nothing.”

Lucy admired Edie's poetic use of the double negative.

“If that's all the police can come up with against my niece . . . well, that says it all,” she concluded. “Can you imagine, some DA tells a jury, well . . . she was missing a car mat and we found this fake fingernail.” She laughed, sounding a bit tired and almost hysterical, Lucy thought. But at least her spirits had lifted. “That ain't happening anytime soon,” Edie concluded.

“Not very likely,” Lucy said. She felt relieved to hear this news. For more reasons than one.

“On that happy note, I'd better go.” Maggie slipped off her stool and Lucy did the same.

“I'm glad it worked out, Edie. Let's hope this is the end of it,” Lucy said.

“I'll drink to that.” Edie nodded deeply, her double chin multiplying exponentially. “That reminds me, the barbecue is officially on again for tomorrow. We'll be stoking the grills at six. Drop by any time.”

Lucy had wondered, but it had not seemed the right time to ask about a party. Maggie seemed surprised, too. “Are you sure, Edie? I'm sure everyone would understand if you wanted to postpone it.”

Edie paused a moment before she answered, lining up the salt shakers, ketchup bottle, and napkin dispenser, which to Lucy already looked to be in perfect order. “I'd rather have a double root canal than have this barbecue,” she said bluntly. “But all things considered, I think it would be worse not to have it. Like admitting the family has something to hide and we don't think this is the last of it. Or that we take these bumbling police idiots seriously.”

Lucy saw Maggie wince a bit at that last phrase, on Charles's account most likely. He was anything but a bumbling idiot. But Maggie didn't debate, just smiled gently.

“In that case, what can I bring? How does guacamole sound?” Maggie asked, answering her own question.

“Sounds perfect. My favorite. That's one thing I don't serve here, so it will come in handy.”

“I'll make a big batch and bring chips,” Maggie said, smiling. “The Steibers come from hardy stock. I have to say that for you.”

“That we are. Don't let anybody forget it, either.”

Lucy crossed the street with Maggie and walked toward the knitting shop to pick up her bike. It was time for her to head home, too.

“I was so relieved to hear that the police are releasing Nora. While Edie was talking, I kept thinking it was partly my fault she was there in the first place.”

Maggie stopped and turned to her. “Your fault? Why do you say that?”

“If I hadn't made such a big deal about seeing Richard at Cassandra's house that night, and then told the police, the investigators wouldn't have been able to come up with any motive for Nora. Maybe I should have let that go. They would have seen Nora for what she is—another innocent victim of Cassandra's wiles. And they would have moved on to the next possibility.”

“Which they will do now,” Maggie said with certainty. “But I don't think you can blame yourself for this. You did what you thought was right. Holding back information in a police interview would have been a form of perjury. You had to tell the truth.”

Lucy nodded. “I know. I'm just glad it all worked out . . . except for the Gordons' marriage.”

Edie's train wreck metaphor quickly came to mind.

Maggie sighed. “Maybe they'll be able to patch it up. They've been through so much together. That must count for something. And they have Dale to think about.”

Lucy thought that was true. She wondered how Dale was holding up through this crisis. She hadn't seen him at the diner this morning. Understandably. He must have been either helping Richard or at home waiting to see what would happen to his mother.

But Nora would be home soon. Maybe she was even on her way already. The Gordons needed time to put this dark episode behind them. Lots of time. But maybe they could work things out.

Especially if the police started searching in some fresh direction and found the person who actually did bash Cassandra's head in with one of the psychic's own giant crystals.

As Maggie disappeared into her shop, Lucy pulled the helmet off her bike and prepared to ride away. But a small green compact driving slowly down Main Street and then parking in front of the diner snagged her attention.

She had only caught a glimpse of the driver as the car passed by, but instantly recognized Daphne Mullens, Cassandra's daughter.

Lucy stood fiddling with her helmet, trying not to be too obvious. She watched Daphne get out, slip a few coins into the parking meter, and then walk toward the Schooner and go inside.

Lucy stood staring at the diner, wondering what the young woman was up to.

Eating food maybe? a little voice chided. Very suspicious, Lucy . . .

Yes, she could have been going in the diner to grab breakfast. Definitely a possibility. Still, Lucy didn't trust that obvious reason. Mainly because Daphne shared Cassandra's genetic material. And perhaps, her mother's scruples, too. Or lack of them.

And if Edie found out the young woman's identity, there was no telling what could happen. Edie might jump the counter in her orthopedic shoes and strangle Daphne Mullens with a dishcloth. Not to mention all the sharp kitchen utensils that were handy. Lucy set the bike and helmet aside and walked straight back to the diner.

She opened the heavy glass door and looked around for Daphne. The dark-haired beauty sat at the counter, twirling a straw in a tall iced coffee, her gaze fixed on a book.

Lucy looked around for Edie. No longer stationed behind the counter, thank goodness. And not sitting behind the register, either. In the kitchen maybe? Lucy took a few steps inside and peered through the swinging doors as a waitress walked out with an order.

“Lucy . . . what are you doing here? Forget something?”

Lucy spun around to find herself facing Edie. She blinked, not knowing what to say. “Um . . . yeah. I can't find my phone. Did I leave it here? On the counter maybe?” she improvised.

Edie frowned and shook her head. “I didn't see it. Gee, that's annoying. Did it fall out of your pocket somewhere?”

“I don't think so,” Lucy said.

Edie pulled her purse out from behind the counter and took out her car keys. “Why don't you call the number and see if you hear any ringing? That's what I do when I lose mine. Maybe the busboys found it and stuck it somewhere,” she suggested. “I'm just on my way over to Nora's. She's exhausted. But Richard said it was all right if I stopped by. I will feel better just seeing her. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

“Of course you do,” Lucy said sincerely. She patted Edie's arm. “Don't worry about my phone. I'm sure it will turn up.”

“All right then. See you,” Edie said.

She headed outside and Lucy was smacked by a blast of warm air. She turned to see that Daphne Mullens had been watching them. Listening in on their conversation?

Lucy met her blue-eyed gaze—large, luminous eyes, just like her mother's.

Daphne turned away first, placed a few bills on the counter, and slipped off the stool. She brushed by Lucy as she headed outside without sparing her a glance.

Was she following Edie? Lucy wasn't sure what to do. She ran outside just in time to see Daphne's car pull away and head down Main Street, in the direction it had come. She thought of following on her bike. And how ridiculous is that? Especially considering your bike, she had to stop and ask herself.

As she pedaled back to the cottage, her mind wandered, wondering about Daphne. Yes, the Schooner was a popular place to eat. Anyone in town would have recommended it to a visitor looking for a quick bite.

But Daphne had not been eating anything. And had barely dented her iced coffee, Lucy had noticed, before she'd run out.

Right behind Edie. As if she'd gone there to see Edie. Or maybe talk to her? But hadn't gotten the chance.

Was that it, Lucy wondered. But what would the young woman want to talk to Edie about? Her mother and what she'd been up to in Plum Harbor? That seemed the most logical answer.

If Daphne had privileged information about her mother's schemes, she should be telling the police. Not Edie. What did Edie have to do with anything? Except for her connection to Nora. The prime suspect. At least, until this morning.

But the time Lucy rode into the driveway and rolled her bike to the back of the cottage, her head was spinning.

There were so many moving parts to this story, it was hard to keep it all straight. Even the pieces that fit. Or seemed to.

Maybe Daphne was perfectly innocent. Just looking for a cold drink on a hot summer morning.

What had Freud said? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Very true. Though in this case, Lucy didn't feel that was so. This cigar was probably the trick kind, which looked innocent enough, but would end up exploding in someone's face.

*  *  *

Lucy was still
bothered by the question that night, though Dara's company at dinner made the table far more lively and fun. The perfect distraction from thoughts about Cassandra Waters's murder and the troubled Gordons.

After Dara left to watch her latest, favorite movie,
Tangled
, Lucy had some quiet time with Matt outside on the patio. Crickets chirped in the warm humid night air and fireflies danced over the lawn.

“So the big barbecue at Edie's is on for tomorrow night after all,” Matt said.

“That's right. Edie is determined that the Steibers show a good face to the world. Especially now that the police could find no evidence to hold Nora.”

“That was good news,” Matt said. “I really don't think she did it. Do you?”

Lucy shook her head. “No, I just can't see it.” She looked up at Matt. “I had a strange experience today. I was just about to head home from town and I saw Cassandra's daughter, Daphne, go into the Schooner.”

“Cassandra had a daughter? How do you know that?”

Lucy briefly considered telling him about her research skills, which were getting sharper each time she and her friends grew curious about ongoing police investigations.

But this was sometimes a point of contention for them. Matt was just concerned that she'd get involved over her head and put herself in danger. Which had never really happened. Well, almost never. A few months ago, when a movie production cast and crew came to town, she and Suzanne had caught a killer trying to sneak out of town. But they brought the culprit down, single-handed, and held on until the police finally arrived.

“It's a long story,” Lucy said, fudging it. “But we know. My friends and I,” she added.

He nodded. “I see. Go on. So you saw this woman, Cassandra's daughter, go into the Schooner. Then what?”

“I don't know. It just felt . . . odd.” Lucy shrugged, feeling an eerie chill again. “I had the feeling she was up to something. Maybe that's just because of her mother. I'll admit it. But I followed her into the diner and watched her a few minutes. She was just sitting at the counter, drinking iced coffee. Well, not actually drinking it, just twirling the straw around,” Lucy clarified. “And reading a book. Or pretending to.”

Matt leaned very close and squinted his eyes. “Very suspicious. Did you call the police?”

Lucy made a face and batted him away. “Stop. I'm serious. The thing is, Edie came over and talked to me a minute and I could tell that Cassandra's daughter was listening. Edie left to go to see Nora and the minute she walked out the door, Cassandra's daughter just about jumped up, put some money on the counter, and left. I ran out too and watched her pull away in her car. I really got the feeling she was following Edie.”