A Murderous Glaze (11 page)

I must have frowned at the thought of his frequent visits, because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I won’t stay away that long. I love to visit. You know that.”

“I wasn’t worried at all.” Hoping, wishing, praying, but not worrying.

“If that’s it then, I’m late for an appointment,” I said, glancing at my watch to add further emphasis to the ruse.

“Me, too. I’m always on the run. Never slow down, that’s my motto. Where are you going? I’ll walk you there.”

There was no way I was going to let Herman Meadows escort me down the brook walk. “Thanks, but I’ve got to make a call first.”

“Okay, then. See you.”

David waited until Herman was gone, then he burst out laughing. “He’s a real prize, isn’t he?”

“Yes, it’s a real shame I’m married, or I’d snap him right up. Maybe we could fix him up with your mother.”

David grinned. “She’d kill us both.” He peered out the window. “I think the coast is clear if you still want to go to lunch.”

“You bet,” I said.

I grabbed a sandwich at Shelly’s Café and took it to a bench by the water. There was still a nice nip in the air, but the sun was shining warmly and the birds were serenading me as I watched the water flow past. It really was a lovely spot to be in, and I regretted that I sometimes took it for granted. Maple Ridge was all I’d really known, aside from four years away at college in Massachusetts, and I didn’t plan on ever leaving Vermont again. I loved my small town, despite the disadvantages. Sometimes I envied my big-city friends their supersized stores and myriad dining choices, but most of the time I was quite content being a small fish in a little pond.

I was feeling quite mellow about my situation when I walked back into Fire at Will, despite the cloud of a murder investigation hanging over my head.

David met me at the door. “You had three calls while you were gone.”

“I should leave more often then,” I said as I took the notes from him. I glanced at them, then added, “These are all from members of the Firing Squad. Did any of them happen to tell you what they wanted?”

“No, they each asked me to have you call them back.” He sounded a little hurt by their unwillingness to share with him.

“Don’t worry, David, I’m sure it’s not personal.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to lunch.”

Like many artistic people I’d met, David was sometimes overly sensitive. It was a part of his nature, and I tried not to let it bother me.

I called Butch first, since, given his connections, he would probably have the best chance of shedding some new light on the murder.

Of course he wasn’t in. I left a message, afraid that we’d be playing telephone tag all day, then moved on to the next name on my list.

“Sandy, you called?”

“I did, but I’m swamped at the moment. Can I call you back in a bit?”

“Certainly,” I said as she hung up on me.

Maybe I should stay at the shop all day so I could take my calls when they came in.

At least Jenna didn’t let me down. “Hi, it’s Carolyn. Do you have a minute?”

“I’ve got all the time you need.”

“How nice,” I said, meaning it sincerely. “I’m returning your call.”

“So you are,” she said. “Give me one second. I’ve got to put the telephone down.”

So much for her rapt attention. I waited thirty seconds, humming the opening to the “Star-Spangled Banner” to myself, in lieu of anything better to do.

She came back on. “Sorry about that. My notes were in my office, and you caught me in the kitchen.”

“I’m not interrupting your lunch, am I? I’d be glad to call back.”

“No, I’ve eaten. I was just making out a grocery list. It’s difficult to cook for one, do you realize that? I was startled to see that I’ve been making the same thing every day of the week for more years than I care to remember. Beef stew on Monday, pot pie on Tuesdays, leftovers on Wednesday, and on and on. It’s a wonder my taste buds don’t go on strike.”

“I never thought about that,” I said. For as long as I could remember, I’d always had someone in my life I enjoyed cooking for. Bill had always sported a hearty appetite, even when we’d been newlyweds and my skills were rather rudimentary and spotty at best. The boys had quickly devoured anything I put in front of them, and I’d had a tough time adjusting the portions back to something approaching normal after they left home.

“Nor should you have to,” Jenna said. “I’ve been working with those sentence fragments you gave us, and I may have something.”

“So soon?” I hadn’t expected my gang to drop everything on my request.

“It’s been fun, somewhat like working a new puzzle without fully knowing the rules. Here’s what I have so far. ‘It’s as easy as th
is
. Make the first r
ight
, and my house is the next
one
you’ll see.’ They could be directions.”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” I said. “It seems to fit the message we found.”

“But it’s not very good, is it? How about this, then? ‘Dear M
is
s, I’ll see you ton
ight
. You’re number
one.
’ No, that’s not much better, is it? I’ll keep at it.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to devote all of your free time to it.”

“Carolyn, at the moment, that’s all I seem to have is free time. I’ll let you know if I come up with something more plausible.”

“That sounds great.”

Just as I hung up, the telephone rang in my hand. “You’ve been on the line,” Sandy said.

“Guilty,” I admitted. “I didn’t know I was supposed to keep the phone free.”

“You weren’t. I just meant I’ve been getting busy signals. I tried your cell phone, too, but it said it was not in service.”

“Hang on a second.” I reached into my purse and saw that I’d failed to turn it on that morning, something I had a habit of doing now and then. “There, it’s on now.”

“Should I call you back on that number?” she asked.

“Now why on earth would you want to do that?”

“I don’t know. I thought that’s what you wanted me to do.”

This could go on forever if I let it. “You called me, remember?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been playing with that puzzle piece you gave us, and I might have something.”

Great, another sunrise was on my horizon, no doubt. “What have you got?”

“How about ‘If you’re looking for bl
is
s, come by my place ton
ight
and I’ll show you why I’m the
one
.’ That sounds kind of romantic, doesn’t it?”

“Sandy, it could mean anything. I’m not sure we’ll ever know what the note means.”

“Don’t give up, Carolyn. We have to keep trying. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“Hang on a second, Sandy. David, what is it?” My assistant rushed back into the shop. He was holding something in his hand, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

“Tell them you’ll call them back. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Sandy, I need to go.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

“What’s so urgent?” I asked David.

“I was snooping at Betty Wickline’s house, and I’m pretty sure I found the other part of that note.”

A part of me wanted to scold him for taking such a dangerous risk, but the part that was curious about the note’s contents shouted down her counterpart. “Let me see it. You didn’t break into the house, did you?”

“No, this was in the bushes outside. It must have been stuck to your shoe, too, only it came loose before you found the other part of it.”

“Did anyone see you there?” Hannah would kill me if she knew what her son was up to, whether he’d done it on his own or not.

David looked smug as he explained. “I tucked my ponytail up in a hat and walked around the house with a clipboard in my hand. If anybody noticed me, they didn’t say a thing.”

I couldn’t take the suspense anymore. “Here. Let me see it.”

I studied the paper, and it certainly looked like a match to what I’d found. After retrieving my section, I slid the sheets together and saw that they were indeed a perfect match. The note, in its entirety, read, ‘Betty, this
is
important. Meet me at midn
ight
. We can’t leave it like this. Come al
one
.’

As I grabbed the telephone, David asked, “Are you calling the police?”

“No, I’m letting Sandy and Jenna know they can stop working on this clue.”

“But what does it mean?” he asked me.

“I might be wrong, but I think we just found the way the killer lured Betty to her death. If I’m right, it could explain why the house was trashed, too. Whoever wrote it didn’t want the police to find it.”

There was a sick look on David’s face as he took that in. “Listen, maybe you should call Sheriff Hodges after all. This might be important.”

“What do I tell him, David? That you were snooping around Betty Wickline’s house and happened to stumble upon the second half of a note I removed from the dead woman’s home? Or should I say that I found it myself and neglected to tell him about it until now? I’m sure he’ll just love that, but I’m willing to do what I should. That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? What exactly
is
the right thing to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” I admitted. “Let me call everyone else and see what they say.”

“You’ve got to tell the sheriff,” Jenna said the second I told her about the completed note. “It’s a legitimate clue now, and he has the right to see it.”

“That’s fine with me. I don’t have a problem with doing that. Do you want to be the one to take it to him?” I asked.

“Hardly, but there has to be some way we can call his attention to it without implicating ourselves. How about mailing it anonymously?”

“We could do that,” I admitted, “but I want to talk to everyone else first.”

Jenna took a deep breath, then said, “Carolyn, this can’t wait. It’s important that the sheriff learn of this as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I understand. Let me touch base with Butch and Sandy, and then we’ll figure out a way to get it to Hodges.”

“Do you promise?”

“I’ll swear it under oath if it will make you feel better. Now I’ve got to call the others.”

I hung up before she could start lecturing me, a tendency Jenna had that I wasn’t all that fond of.

Sandy agreed with Jenna, but I still couldn’t get in touch with Butch. What was that man up to? Did it have anything to do with our murder investigation, or was he doing something darker on his own? I made photocopies of the entire note for each of us, then selected an envelope from my supply, one without the Fire at Will logo and return address. I wasn’t a complete amateur at this.

I had just addressed the envelope to the sheriff using big block letters that looked like a child’s construction when Jenna walked into my office.

“You didn’t have to come down here yourself,” I said.

“I’m going to deliver that letter to the sheriff,” she said sternly.

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

Her grim expression melted. “That’s not it at all. I’m volunteering to fall on my sword and turn it over in person. I’m willing to take full responsibility for it.”

“There’s no need for anything quite so dramatic,” I said, warmed by her offered sacrifice. “I’m going to drop this off, but he won’t know it came from me.”

I showed her the printed envelope, and she nodded her approval. “Very nice. You’ve been spending entirely too much time with Butch, haven’t you?”

“No, I get all my information from
Law and Order
and
CSI
.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Give me the envelope. I’ll slip it in his mail and he won’t even know it.”

“I don’t want you to take any chances,” I said.

“Believe me, I wasn’t all that eager to take the heat for finding this. Your way is better. If it’s totally anonymous, there won’t be any way he can blame us for holding out on him. You did wipe it for fingerprints, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I said smugly.

“And the envelope, too?”

Okay, maybe I hadn’t covered all the bases. “No, not yet.”

She continued. “You didn’t lick the envelope seal, did you? That leaves DNA, not that Sheriff Hodges will necessarily check for it, but you never know.”

I ripped open the envelope carefully and decided to begin again. Maybe being a bad guy took more attention to detail than I had thought. “Why don’t we start over?”

“That’s a capital idea,” Jenna said as she pulled out a pair of latex gloves. “Why don’t I do it? I thought these might come in handy.”

“Be my guest,” I said as I watched her meticulously repeat the tasks I’d done earlier. She was much better at them than I was, even sealing the envelope with a dampened paper towel. “Now who’s been spending too much time with Butch?”

She blushed slightly. “I’ve had a great deal more exposure to the criminal element than Butch Hardcastle. There, that’s perfect. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Should I go with you?” I was suddenly feeing guilty about letting Jenna take all the risk.

“No, you’d just stand out, and that is one thing we can’t afford.”

“Call me as soon as you’re in the clear.”

“I’m not robbing a bank, Carolyn. I’m just visiting some old colleagues. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Of course there isn’t.”

An hour later I was frantically pacing around the shop as I waited to hear from Jenna. I was just about ready to call Hodges and confess myself when she walked in the door.

“Carolyn, what’s wrong? Did something else happen?”

“That’s what I want to know. You should have been back half an hour ago.”

“Sorry, I got into a discussion with Gus Haggerty; he’s the new district court judge.”

“So you didn’t get a chance to deliver the letter,” I said, unhappy that the task would now fall back on me.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I took care of it. More than likely, the sheriff’s already read it by now.”

“I highly doubt that,” I said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he hasn’t called or come by. I’ve got a feeling as soon as he opens it, I’m going to be the first person he wants to see.”

As it turned out, I wasn’t that far wrong.

Butch showed up a little later, and from the scowl on his face, I knew his news wasn’t good.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about that key,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“What about it? You don’t have to whisper; no one’s here.” Business had picked up a little, but I was still going to have a hard time paying my bills out of my receipts, something I normally never had any trouble with. That meant I had to dip into my store’s savings, something I hated to do.

“Sorry, old habits die hard,” he said. “This isn’t from a locker anywhere in Maple Ridge. I checked the bus depot, the Y, the high school gym, and no luck anywhere. I’m going to Burlington tomorrow for something else, and while I’m there, I’m going to poke around some and see if I can find out where it came from, and more important, what it’s guarding.”

“Just don’t poke too hard.”

“Carolyn, Betty hid this key in a place she thought no one would look. It kind of makes me think it’s important.”

“It could be,” I agreed. “So, what are you going to be doing in Burlington?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d really rather not say. Did the note get to the sheriff all right? I told Jenna I should have done it myself, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You might draw some unwelcome attention if you walked through the sheriff’s office,” I said, trying to hide my smile at the thought of that.

“Yeah, that’s what she said. I just hope she doesn’t catch any grief about it.”

“I won’t let her,” I said. “If it comes to that, I’ll take full responsibility for having the note myself.”

“I’ll back you up,” he said.

The front door chimed, and I wondered if I’d finally be getting another customer. It was the sheriff, and judging by the crease in his brow, I could tell he wasn’t there to throw me a party.

Butch whispered, “You want me to stay?”

“No, I’m fine.” Having him around might make things worse, and I had all I could handle without more conflict.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,” he said loud enough for the sheriff to hear. The men nodded abruptly to each other as they passed, and I watched Butch station himself in front of the shop. I wasn’t exactly sure that his presence out there would be good for business, but it warmed my heart to have a friend standing close by.

“What’s the story with this?” the sheriff asked as he held up the envelope Jenna and I had so carefully written.

“It looks like a letter,” I said, trying to keep my gaze steady on his. “Did your mother write you?”

“You know full well what it is,” he said. “What I want to know is why you thought this crazy idea of yours would work.”

That caught me completely off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you fabricating evidence in a police investigation and then dragging an honored former judge in on your little scheme.”

For one of the few times in my life, I was actually speechless. He continued. “So you’re not even going to bother denying it?”

“Which part?” I asked without thinking.

“All of it,” he snapped.

“I didn’t make it up. I found it at Betty’s house.”

“Are you telling me you went back there after I told you expressly not to?”

“No, I discovered it when you threw me out.” That didn’t sound good for me, but I was past being able to cast a favorable light on my activities.

He asked me indignantly, “Why didn’t you give it to me then?”

“I didn’t find it until I walked outside. It was stuck to my shoe.” There, I’d just admitted my part in how the letter had gotten to him.

“Now why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know. It must be a character flaw of yours not to trust people.”

He stared at me coldly for a few seconds before he spoke. “You wrote this yourself, hoping to divert my suspicion to someone else. It’s not going to work. You should know that. If anything, it makes you look more guilty in my eyes, not less. How did you talk Judge Blake into helping you?”

“She didn’t,” I said simply. “It was my idea, from start to finish.”

That shocked him. “So you’re actually admitting that it’s a fake.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” I said, not meaning to yell but doing it nonetheless. I caught Butch’s eye through the window, and he looked as though he was ready to come in, but I shook my head. I was going to handle this on my own. “The letter is real. I knew if I just walked up to you and handed it to you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Guess what? You were right. I don’t believe you.”

“Then arrest me,” I snapped. “Or, and here’s an original thought, you could actually go out and find the real killer. I’ve got a list of suspects, if you’re interested.”

“With my name at the top of your list, no doubt,” he said.

“You’re on it,” I admitted, feeling my voice soften.

“Who else?”

“Are you serious? You really want to know? I’ve got the names on a board in back.”

I started toward the back room, and Hodges followed reluctantly. He studied the list, along with my rationales for each suspect, then shook his head. “You know what your problem here is? You have no proof. I told you to butt out of this, and I meant it.”

“If you think I’m going to stand around and wait to be handcuffed, you’ve lost your mind. If you won’t investigate this, I’m going to do it myself.”

“Stay out of it, Carolyn. It’s none of your business. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” There was a hint of steel in his voice, and something deeper. The man was actually threatening me.

I suddenly wished I’d asked Butch to stay. “I’m not afraid,” I said. “Of anything.”

“Well, you should be,” the sheriff said.

He walked out of the shop, and Butch came in a few seconds later. “What was that all about?”

“Let’s see, our dear sheriff just accused me of writing the letter myself, and then he threatened me.”

“That does it. It’s time I taught him a lesson.”

Butch was heading for the door when I grabbed his arm. “Don’t make it worse, okay? Please, for me?” The last thing I wanted was for Butch to get into a fight with Sheriff Hodges on my account.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive, but thanks for offering.”

Butch took a step away from me, easily breaking my grip on his arm. “He should have believed you.”

“Well, he didn’t. I showed him my list of suspects, and he wasn’t thrilled finding his own name among them.”

Butch smiled gently. “I bet he wasn’t. So what happens now?”

“Do you mean because of his threat? I’m not going to let that stop me. I can’t make him believe me, but I can still try to find out the truth.”

“Have you thought about who you’re going to take it to once you do figure out who killed Betty? Can you trust Hodges to follow through?”

“That’s a good point.” I hadn’t even thought about the possibility of the sheriff ignoring me, but the more I considered it, the more sense it made.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a friend with the state police we can go to.” He must have caught something in my expression as he added, “Don’t look so surprised. I have friends on both sides of the law.”

“I’m starting to realize that,” I said.

After Butch left, David came back. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up.”

“Did they get much?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?”

I was feeling a little giddy after my confrontation with the sheriff. “You said you were held up. Were you scared?”

“Carolyn, I wasn’t robbed. I meant I ran into a friend from high school, and we started talking about old times. That’s why I’m late. Did I miss anything?”

I considered not mentioning what had just happened, but David would find out sooner or later. “The sheriff thinks I wrote the note to divert his suspicion toward someone else.”

“It’s not a bad thought, is it?”

“Only if I’d really killed her,” I said, the jocularity gone from my voice. “Is that what you think?”

“No, of course not. I was trying to put myself in the sheriff’s shoes.”

“Well, don’t,” I said a little harsher than I should have. “I don’t need anyone else believing I could have done such a terrible thing.”

“I’m sorry,” David said. The poor boy looked as though he was about to cry.

“It’s all right,” I said, stroking his arm lightly. “I know you believe in me.”

“I do,” he said earnestly, and for just a second, I could see Hannah’s eyes in his. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’ve got a few errands to run,” I said. “Would you mind watching the shop by yourself again?”

He looked around the deserted place. “I think I can handle it. Should we have a sale or something to get folks to come back in? Maybe a sidewalk demonstration?”

“No, the situation’s not that desperate yet.” I hated flogging my wares on the sidewalk, and not because I didn’t like being the center of attention. Well, not entirely because of that.

“So, where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going to revisit my suspects and see if I can get any of them to admit to something they don’t want to.”

“How are you going to do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to let you know as soon as I figure it out.”

Before I left the shop, I copied down the list on the blackboard in back. There was no need for motives on the list, though that would be crucial in determining the murderer’s identity. All I needed was an idea of who I should talk to. The names “Sheriff Hodges, Evelyn Hodges, Larry Wickline, Robert Owens, Herman Meadows, Tamra Gentry, Connie Minsker, Kendra Williams” nearly filled up a page in my notebook. But who should I talk to first? That answer presented itself when Kendra called out to me from Hattie’s Attic. It was time to find out if Kendra herself had had anything to do with Betty Wickline’s death.