A Murderous Glaze (12 page)

To Kendra’s surprise, I walked over to her without her having to call me twice. Her shop, in stark contrast to mine, was brimming with customers.

“Shouldn’t you be inside waiting on all of them?” I asked her. Shop owners who ignored their customers were one of my biggest pet peeves.

“Are you kidding? They love it when they have to track me down. Acting disinterested is one of my biggest selling tools.”

That strategy would never work at Fire at Will. My browsers would just leave if I didn’t wait on them hand and foot. At least that was my theory, and I didn’t have the guts to try to disprove it.

“I need to talk to you,” I said.

“Let me go first. You should know that Larry Wickline’s girlfriend was furious about the alimony he was paying Betty.”

“I know. Connie told me about it herself.” That seemed to take some of the wind from her sails.

“But did you know that Larry broke up with her right after the murder?”

“Actually, I knew that, too.” She was really reeling now. It seemed that I’d out-gossiped the gossip queen. “She’s mad enough to kill him, and if I were Larry, I’d watch my back. Those scissors look sharp.”

“Do you honestly think she’d murder him?” Kendra looked absolutely delighted by the prospect.

“No, I don’t think so, but then again, I’ve been wrong before. Kendra, how well did you know Betty?”

“We’ve already talked about that,” she said abruptly.

“No, I’m pretty sure we haven’t.”

“I knew her; of course I did. Everyone in town knows everyone else. Maple Ridge is not that big a place, is it?”

She was acting oddly, even for her, and that was saying something.

“Did she ever shop here?”

Kendra’s gaze avoided mine, and I knew I’d struck a chord, so I pushed harder. “Was she unhappy with something she bought from you?”

Kendra wanted to deny it—I could see it in her shifting gaze—but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “She was so rude. How was I supposed to know that piece was a fake? It came with a provenance. I offered her a refund.”

“A full refund?” I’d heard rumors about Kendra’s dealings with customers, and I wouldn’t have bought a ten-dollar bill from her for $3.75.

“Not at first, but I finally gave her check back to her. She was so rude about it all.”

“That must have just killed you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “You’ve never given a full refund in your life.”

“She insisted,” Kendra said. For a large woman, she suddenly seemed very small. “I can’t stand out here all day and talk to you. I’ve got to help my customers.”

“I thought your sales tactic was to ignore them,” I said with as much false sweetness as I could muster.

“Good-bye, Carolyn.” She tore back into her shop and left me on the sidewalk, wondering if Kendra was hiding more than just a refund admission. She’d bear looking into, but it would have to be when I could catch her off guard again.

To my surprise, I found Larry Wickline at Hair Apparent, talking earnestly with Connie Minsker on a bench outside the beauty shop. It would be a great chance to speak with two of my suspects at the same time. From the look of things, they were delving deeply into their own problems, and while I normally hated to butt into other people’s lives, it might give me an edge if they were both already off balance.

“Excuse me, do you two have a second?”

Connie dismissed me without looking up. “Sorry, we’re in the middle of something.”

“This won’t take long. It’s about Betty’s murder.”

That got their attention. They both looked at me suddenly, and Larry snapped, “Who are you?”

“We haven’t met, but we did speak on the phone. I’m Carolyn Emerson. Betty was murdered in my shop.”

“She’s okay,” Connie said, temporarily vouching for me. “What do you need, Carolyn?”

“The sheriff and I were going over a list of suspects earlier, and I wanted to clear something up.” Okay, technically that was a bald lie, but he
had
glanced at my list; I’d seen him. Maybe we weren’t exactly consulting on the investigation, but I did want information. Besides, how much more hot water could I get into with the man? He could only lock me up once for interfering with police business, couldn’t he?

“He’s a jerk,” Larry said.

“I can probably get him off your back if you tell me where you were the night your wife was murdered.”

“Ex-wife,” they said in unison.

“Would you mind telling me where you both were?”

“You bet I’d mind. It’s none of your business.” Larry was a real charmer, and I wondered what Connie was doing with him.

She said, “Larry, don’t be that way. She’s just trying to help. Can’t you see that? Carolyn, we were together in Boston. There’s no way we could have killed her, either one of us.”

Larry looked surprised by the admission. “Why did you just tell her that?”

“It’s only right to tell the truth.” The look of insistence in her eyes was hard to ignore.

“You shouldn’t have said anything,” he grumbled.

“Where exactly in Boston were you?” I asked. If I could get the name of their hotel, I might be able to confirm their alibi.

“I think it was the Independence Motor Inn,” she said.

“No, it wasn’t. It was the Liberty Bell or something like that.”

Connie frowned. “No, that’s not it, either. It had something to do with history and patriots and stuff like that. I remember that much.”

Gee, that narrowed it down to about a thousand hotels and motels in the greater Boston area. “Do you happen to have a receipt from your stay?”

“No, we paid cash, and I’m pretty sure I tossed it when I was cleaning out the car the other day,” Larry said. “But we’ve both got alibis, so tell the sheriff to get off our backs.”

I had barely left when the two of them started bickering about the name of the place they’d stayed. Larry had looked surprised when Connie mentioned the motel. Was it because he didn’t think Connie should tell me they’d gone away the night his ex-wife had been murdered, or because they hadn’t gone out of town at all? I didn’t know, and worse yet, I had no way of checking out their story.

I hated to do it, but it was time to talk to Tamra again.

Her butler answered the door on the first ring. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Carolyn Emerson. Remember me? I was here before.”

“Of course,” he said as if he didn’t believe me.

“May I speak with Tamra?”

“Wait one moment.”

At least this time he let me wait in the foyer instead of outside. Her home was the most beautiful I’d ever been in, but then again, Tamra had more money than I would see in a thousand lifetimes. I wouldn’t have traded with her, though, if it meant I couldn’t have Bill or all of my friends. It suddenly struck me that Tamra was lonely. I could be accused of a great many things, but never that.

Tamra came breezing in with three scarves in her hand. “Which do you like, Carolyn? I’m packing light this trip.”

“Where are you going?”

She frowned as she stared at her selections. “Back to the city. I never should have left. That’s where all my true friends really are.”

“Burlington?” I asked.

“New York,” she answered almost disdainfully. “Oh, never mind. I’ll take them all.” She frowned at me and added, “Why are you here? It’s not for more money, is it? I’m afraid you caught me in a moment of weakness before.”

“No, you were most generous the last time I was here.”

“What is it, then?”

How on earth could I ask this woman for an alibi when she’d donated so much money to the school library on my behalf? “I was just wondering if you’d like to have lunch sometime.” It was the only thing I could think of. I really needed to get more cover stories together.

Tamra looked touched by the offer. “What a delightful thought. I’m sorry, though, I’ve got a car coming for me any second. It’s so much better than flying. I only arrived here the day you visited me the first time, but I’m afraid I miss the city too much.”

“Have a nice trip,” I said.

“It will be dreadful, but it’s worth it. And Carolyn…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for the invitation. I’ll call you the second I get back to town.”

“That would be lovely.”

I was outside walking toward my car when a limousine pulled up. The driver, wearing a full chauffeur’s ensemble, got out and polished the door handle after he closed it.

“Excuse me, but do you always take Mrs. Gentry to New York?”

He nodded. “I’m the only one she’ll ride with.”

“Do you happen to know when she came up? We were discussing it earlier, and she wasn’t sure.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his log book. After he gave me the date, he said, “I’d better go. I know she won’t be ready, but the lady expects me to be on time, and she’s paying for the privilege.”

“Thanks. Have a nice drive.”

He shrugged slightly, readjusted his cap, then walked to the front door.

Once I was back in the Intrigue, I took out my list and struck a line through Tamra’s name. The driver had confirmed her alibi, and while I knew it was possible she could have paid for the murder instead of doing it herself, I was going to forget about her unless something more compelling came up.

That left three names on my master list of suspects I hadn’t yet spoken with again, and of the group, only Herman Meadows would be without drama. Normally when I had a list of chores to do, I got the most unpleasant ones out of the way first, but talking to Evelyn Hodges and Robert Owens would be much worse than cleaning a bathroom. I’d find Herman, hopefully get an alibi so I could strike his name off my list, and then move on to Evelyn and Robert.

Wouldn’t you know it, I got my landlord’s voice mail when I called his office from my cell phone. I wasn’t ready to tackle Evelyn, and I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to talk to her at all. Tamra’s place wasn’t that far from Travers College, so I decided to swing by there and see if my pottery teacher had anything else to say for himself about Betty Wickline.

“I’m looking for Robert Owens’s office,” I told the uniformed security guard in front of the student union. I’d thought about asking one of the students, but none of them would slow down long enough to answer my questions. There was something fresh and alive about the school, and I thought yet again about taking classes in my leisure hours. Not that I had that much time on my hands, but it would be fun to be on a campus again, not as somebody’s mother as I had been a few years before, but as a student, there to learn. I could have easily asked Hannah for directions, but I didn’t want her to know why I was there.

“Sure, that’s easy enough,” the man said. “Just go down Twilight Lane and look for the Markel Building. All the faculty offices are there.”

“Thanks,” I said. I hadn’t realized that all of the staff had offices in the same quarters. I wasn’t sure what I would tell Hannah about my visit if I happened to run into her, but I’d think of something. I could always ask her out to lunch in return for the last meal she’d bought us. Well, maybe I’d make it dinner. David might have to close the shop today at the rate I was going. I decided to call and check in with him before I went inside.

“Fire at Will,” David said as he answered the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. How’s everything going?”

“We had a few customers come in,” he said.

“Any sales?”

“No, they were just browsing. Don’t worry, I know things will pick up,” he said.

“Let’s hope so. Listen, would you mind closing up this evening? I’m not going to be able to get back in time.”

“Sure, it’s no problem. My class isn’t until later. That reminds me, you’ve got a message.”

“Who from?” Had one of my queries finally paid off?

“Bill called. He’s going to grab a sandwich so he can finish dressing. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?” He hesitated a second, then added, “At least I think that’s what it says.”

David should have been in medical school, his handwriting was so bad. “Could it have been that he had to finish the dressers?”

David paused, then said, “If you say so.”

“That has to be what it means. Is there anything else?”

“No,” he said. “Herman Meadows came by. He said you called him, but he was tied up somewhere else. I told him to call you back, but he said he’d catch up with you later.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s it. Have you had any luck?”

“Maybe, but it’s too soon to tell for sure,” I said. “Is your mom teaching any of her classes today?”

“She should just be finishing up. Why, do you want to talk to her?”

“No, I was just curious.” I’d been hoping Hannah would be off campus, but no such luck. Maybe I’d be able to dodge her inside. I was afraid if she knew how actively I was pursuing the case, she might reacquire her fear that I would involve David. “Have a nice evening.”

“I would, but I have class, remember?”

I glanced at my cell phone and saw that the battery was getting low. I’d have to charge it tonight, something I was constantly forgetting to do. It was amazing how easily I’d gotten used to the convenience of the thing, and how much I missed it when I didn’t have it with me.

After taking a deep breath, I knocked on Robert’s door, but instead of my potter, I found a sandy haired young man with the longest fingers I’d ever seen in my life. He had on overalls that were spattered with clay, a true potter’s uniform, so I knew we were kindred spirits. “Hi, I’m looking for Robert Owens.”

“You just missed him.” He dismissed me without another thought, but I wasn’t about to go away that easily.

“Do you know where I might find him?”

“Not a clue,” he said.

Enough was enough. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Carolyn Emerson. Robert teaches some classes for me at my pottery studio.” Okay, maybe calling Fire at Will a studio was a bit of a stretch, but it surely got his attention.

He looked up at me and smiled. “I’m Jack Hall. I’ve heard a lot about your place.”

“All good, I hope.”

“Absolutely. Listen, if you ever need anyone to teach some classes part-time, I’m a doctoral candidate in ceramics, and I’m always looking for ways to supplement my income.”

“Why don’t you give me your name and number and I’ll keep you in mind,” I said as I handed him a fresh sheet from my notebook.

“That would be great.”

As he wrote, I said, “Maybe you can help me. I’m trying to find out if Robert was in town a few days ago.”

“Well, we got back from North Carolina on Wednesday. Does that help?”

“Are you saying you went with him?”

He looked disgusted. “Yeah, he dragged me there to help him pack his equipment and some of his work. It was a little above and beyond the call of duty, if you ask me, but he didn’t give me much choice.”

“And you were there with him the entire time?”

“Every second. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Do me a favor, don’t mention this to Robert, would you?”

“Why not?” Jack definitely looked suspicious about my request.

“It’s just that I’d asked him to teach for me Tuesday night, and I wasn’t sure if he was in town and ducking me, or if he really did go away.”

“He was gone. I can vouch for that.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked me.

“What’s that?”

“My number,” he said as he shoved the paper in my hand. “I’m serious about teaching, and I’m really good at it, if I say so myself.”

“I’ll keep you in mind, I promise,” I said.

Just my luck, I bumped into Hannah out in the hallway.

“Carolyn, what are you doing here?”

“Would you believe I was looking for you?” I asked.

“No, not when you’re coming out of Robert Owens’s office. Is there anything wrong?” A dark cloud spread across her face. “Come here a second.”

She pulled me down the hall and into her office. Once the door was safely closed, Hannah asked, “This has to do with Betty Wickline’s murder, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I have to keep digging. Every shred of evidence I turn up, the sheriff either discounts, ignores, or refuses to believe.”

“You’re not dragging my son into this, are you?” she asked sternly.

“David’s watching the shop while I snoop around,” I said. “I’m not forcing him to do anything you wouldn’t approve of.”

“It wouldn’t take any force, and we both know it. I just don’t want him involved.”

“We talk, but he’s not doing anything for me but working at Fire at Will.” Though David had found the note on his own, I wasn’t about to tell Hannah that. After all, I hadn’t asked him to look around Betty’s house; he’d done that of his own free will.

“So, what have you found out?”

“Do you really want to know, or are you just being polite?”

She grinned. “Have you ever known me to do anything just because I was trying to be polite?”

“You’ve got a point. Well, at least I’ve managed to cross a few names off my list. There are still entirely too many people I suspect, though.”

“Just be careful,” Hannah said.

“Don’t worry, I get enough of that from Bill.”

“Hey, your husband loves you. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I know. Well, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a few more names on my list to check out.”

Hannah frowned. “Just don’t ask David to work late. He’s got a class tonight.”

“Don’t worry, we’re closing early. He’ll have plenty of time to get out here.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Can I walk you out?”

“That would be nice,” I said.

We bumped into Robert Owens as he was going into his office. “Were you here to see me?” he asked harshly.

“I came to visit Hannah,” I said. Now that I’d struck him off my list, I didn’t want to antagonize him any more than was absolutely necessary.

He nodded and ducked inside. I just hoped Jack would keep his promise and not say anything about my visit. Then I realized he wouldn’t, not if he wanted any shot at teaching future classes at Fire at Will.

“Herman, I need to ask you something.” I’d finally gotten hold of my landlord at his office. It was a small, odd little building a few blocks away from the brook walk. The place was barely big enough to hold his desk and filing cabinets. A small sofa was made up into a bed, and I doubted even at his height Herman would be able to stretch out on it. “Are you living here now?”

He grinned. “I sold my house and haven’t found anything I like yet. I made 200 percent profit on it in eight months. Can you believe that?”

“Why don’t you at least rent a place until you find something else you like?” I couldn’t imagine anything more depressing than living and working in such a confining place.

“I don’t want to waste the money,” he admitted. “This is fine. It’s not like anybody ever comes here but me.”

“It’s not exactly a place you could bring a date back to after dinner and a movie though, is it?”

“I manage,” he said. “Now what can I do for you?”

“I’m wondering where you were the night Betty was murdered.”

He stared at me a few seconds, then asked, “Why do you want to know that? Carolyn, are you seriously getting mixed up in this?”

“All you have to do is tell me where you were so I can mark you off my list.”

He hopped up from his chair. “You honestly think I could have killed her?”

It appeared that I was destined to anger everyone I knew, but if that was the price I had to pay to find the truth, so be it. “Take it easy. You had a key, so that automatically makes you a suspect.”

He shook his head. “So does half of Maple Ridge, and that just matters if you actually locked your door, which I still doubt.”

“Do you have an alibi or not?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am, I was here going over my books. I didn’t talk to anybody that I remember and nobody came by to visit.” He gestured around the room. “This isn’t exactly a great place to have company, you know?”

“Thanks anyway,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a ton of work to do tonight, so I’d better get to it. I’m going to heat up a can of beans for dinner. You want some?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got more work to do myself.” I was sure there were worse things to do than split a can of beans with Herman Meadows, but at the moment, none came to mind.

I thought about going by the sheriff’s house, but bracing Evelyn Hodges in her own den and demanding an alibi took a little more backbone than even I had. I could call her on the telephone, though.

“Do you have a phone book I could borrow?” I asked.

“Sure thing,” he said as he slid a tattered old copy across his desk to me. “Who are you going to call?”

“I need the sheriff’s number,” I said as I found it, jotted it down on a piece of paper, then handed him the book. “Bye.”

He grumbled a good-bye of his own and I left.

I walked back to the car, and instead of starting it up, I called the sheriff’s house, hoping and praying Hodges himself didn’t answer.

“Hello?” It was Evelyn.

“Hi, it’s Carolyn Emerson.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in her voice.

“I just called to apologize,” I lied.

“Yes?” Did I hear a slight thaw in her voice, or was it my imagination?

“I didn’t mean to imply anything earlier. Is there a chance we could get together and chat?”

“Who’s that on the phone?” I heard the sheriff call out to her.

“It’s a wrong number,” Evelyn told him.

His voice was much closer as he said, “Then hang up.”

We were disconnected, and I sat there staring at my phone a few seconds before I tucked it back into my purse. Herman was standing by the window, and he waved when we made eye contact. I nodded and drove off before he offered me a bean dinner again. I glanced at my watch and realized that David had closed the shop by now. I knew my husband was working hard to finish up the dresser set, but I wanted to talk to him, so I decided to take a chance and interrupt him while he was working.

“Hello? Bill, are you here?” I’d tapped at the back door of the furniture shop, then pounded on it before shouting my question. Bill had explained to me that his dusty old outbuilding in the back corner of our property was fine for construction, but that he needed the clean work area at the furniture shop to stain and hand wax the pieces after they were built.

His truck was in the back parking lot of the shop, but so far, he hadn’t answered my summons.

“Hang on,” he finally said.

I waited five minutes and was about to pound again when the back door opened. “Hey, Carolyn. What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a woman visit her husband at work?” I asked.

“She can, but she usually has a reason,” Bill said.

“I wanted to see you,” I admitted.

He smiled that crooked grin of his, the one I’d first fallen in love with a thousand years ago. “Come on in. You can keep me company.”

I followed him to the corner he had set up for finishing and saw a lovely matching pair of blond dressers in the elegant but simple Shaker style we both loved so much.

“Nice dovetails on the base,” I said. Dovetails are a type of joinery that secures two pieces of wood at a ninety-degree angle. They get their name from the fanlike nature of the exposed joints, something I’d learned from Bill.

“They turned out pretty nice,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t mind keeping these,” he added as he rubbed a palm over the top of one of them. “Just one more coat of wax and they’ll be done.”

“We could buy them ourselves,” I said.

He laughed. “You want to know the truth? We couldn’t afford them. So, what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Carolyn Emerson, I’ve been married to you half my life. You don’t think I can read you by now? You’re here for more than a visit, not that I don’t appreciate it.”

“It’s about Betty Wickline,” I admitted. “Now before you start into another lecture, I’d better warn you, I’m not in the mood for it, do you hear me?”

“I understand what you’re saying,” he said. “What about Betty?”

“I’ve got so many suspects I don’t know where to turn. I want to be able to talk to you about this, Bill. It’s important for me to find out what happened to her.”