Darlene Franklin - Dressed for Death 02 - A String of Murders (13 page)

13             

From: Elsie Holland ([email protected])

Date: Wednesday, April 23, 9:50 PM

To: Lauren Packer ([email protected])

Subject: Partner in crime?

Gossip suggests that you knew murder victim Vic Spencer from college.

Did something happen eighteen years ago that gave you reason to kill him?

Expect further communication from me on the subject.

Thursday, April 24

Magda had a child out of wedlock? And gave him or her away for adoption almost forty years ago? My mind groped toward the truth.

Audie got there ahead of me. “Suzanne!” His voice vibrated with all the pent up emotions of the night.

My mind whirled, reorganizing facts in a new configuration.

“Yes. Suzanne.” The bright spots in Magda’s cheeks faded and once again she looked like a well-preserved matron. “When she first contacted me, I refused to talk with her. I put that episode behind me years ago. But she was persistent, and I confess I was curious as to how my other child turned out.” Her lips curled for an instant. “If she was any more. . .satisfactory. . .than Gene. If I had made the right decision in giving her away.” Tears appeared in her eyes. “We began corresponding. I traveled to Chicago several times to meet with her and discovered how much alike we are, in ways both good and bad.”

So that was what brought the semi-successful actress to this backwater of theater, Grace Gulch. The most fundamental reason of all: family, a desire to know and be known, to love and be loved. Maybe I was projecting, but I didn’t think so.

“Since she’s come to Grace Gulch, we’ve been able to get together more often. We’ve tried to be discreet. . .as you know, no easy task in this small town, but someone must have ferreted out the truth.”

I hadn’t heard a word, a whisper of a rumor, about Suzanne and Magda’s relationship. How they had accomplished that feat of secrecy boggled my mind.

Magda didn’t speak for a few moments. Her face relaxed, recapturing the innocence and beauty that must have marked her as a young woman, a wistful longing for the child she had lost and the dreams she had left behind. A delicate lilac scent wafted through the air. She was a lady, and her secret would not change my opinion of her.

“You are an amazing woman.” I wanted to put my arms around her, but I held back. One simply didn’t hug Magda Grace Mallory.

She made a sound that was half a cough, half a laugh. “How can you say that after you know the truth about me?”

“But don’t you see?” Audie pressed my hand, and I knew he shared my thoughts. “Your past makes you even more amazing. You overcame your errors in judgment. You have been a shining example of God’s grace to all of us here in Grace Gulch, although we never knew why.”

“Even when your own dreams fell apart, you came home and made Grace Gulch a better place to grow up in.” I felt compelled to make her understand. “Thank you. For me. For all of us who grew up with music and culture because of you. People won’t think less of you when they learn the truth. If anything, it will help people.”

“Oh, my dear.” Magda smiled, the first genuine smile I had seen on her face that night. “Thank
you
. Thank you for helping Suzanne to see the truth about our precious Lord last fall. She was headed down the same road I had already traveled, and you helped to turn her back.”

“‘A good man leaves an inheritance for his children’s children.’ Proverbs 13:22. God is proving His promise with everything that’s happened with Suzanne.” Audie spoke in soft tones.

“As well as a financial inheritance.” Magda almost giggled. “I’ve added Suzanne to my will.”

“We still have a problem.”

“You’re right.” Emotions reined in, Magda returned to business. “Who wrote the blackmail letters?”

“You don’t know?” If she wanted the direct approach, I would oblige her. “Did Mr. Burton. . .or whoever it is, communicate with you further, as he threatened?”

“Why, no!” Magda brushed aside the suggestion with a wave of her hand. “Suzanne and I talked about it. She received a note from the same Burton fellow, but he hasn’t written again.” She rifled through the pages again, as if she would discover something she hadn’t seen the first time. “We’ve been expecting someone to approach us ever since we received the e-mails, especially after last night.” She waved her e-mail. “But you’re the first to come to me.”

Had we made a mistake in coming tonight? Would she think. . .?

“We had nothing to do with the e-mails.” The words tumbled from my mouth.

“Of course not, dear.” Magda spoke with such sincerity that I couldn’t doubt her.

I loved her more than ever for her assumption of our innocence. “But who? Why?”

“It has to be someone connected with the theater.” Magda echoed Audie’s and my conclusion. “That means it’s someone we know. Half of the cast are members of my family. Oh, dear.” Magda’s composure threatened to slip again.

“There are some
characters that don’t belong to the Grace family.” But not many, when I thought about it. Even Lauren was Magda’s lawyer. Peppi and Frances had only minor roles. I giggled. “Maybe we could blame it on Chief Reiner and get rid of him. He’s in the play.”

“Now, Cici.” Audie’s smile nullified his reprimand.

“Perhaps the place to start is to determine who might know that Suzanne is my daughter. That’s an even smaller circle than the theater group.”

“Suzanne? Your
daughter
?”

Gene Mallory’s bulk filled the door to the drawing room. None of us had heard him enter. How much of our conversation had he overheard?

“Oh, Gene. I never wanted you to find out this way.” Magda’s aplomb vanished, and her voice rose in a wail.

“Suzanne is your daughter? No wonder you’re changing your will. You never loved me.” He crossed the room and towered over Magda in her chair. “I’ll tell you this much. I’d rather see both of you dead than for you to leave any of the Mallory money to that woman.”

Magda sat straight. “Cici, Audie, dear, perhaps you should leave.”

We complied. That mother-son conversation needed privacy. If Gene’s reaction suggested the response Magda could expect from the rest of Grace Gulch, no wonder she had kept her past a secret for all these years.

Audie escorted me home. I couldn’t get Gene’s words out of my mind. By the time I prepped my dress for washing—the long day had taken its toll on the beautiful fabric—and chosen another blouse to wear with Wednesday’s gypsy skirt—the hour hand reached eleven. I should have been exhausted but my mind refused to stop whirling.

Suzanne was Magda’s child, born out of wedlock. Someone knew and threatened both of them. The discovery infuriated Gene. He threatened his mother and his sister.

And did any of it tie into Spencer’s murder? The fact that they both received blackmail notes from the same person—whoever Jerry Burton was—suggested they did. But I couldn’t see the connection between Spencer’s probable thievery and Magda’s secret past.

Who was Jerry Burton? Who was Elsie Holland? Could they be the same person? I didn’t want it to be someone I knew and cared about. I took out the list that I had started in the office. Maybe if I could organize my thoughts, I could get to sleep.

I forced personal feeling aside and created a page for each person connected to the theater—even Audie, although my fingers trembled as I penned his name. I wanted it all spelled out to put the captain’s suspicions to rest when the time came. I also needed to explain any connection to the college.

Audie Howe. I listed all relevant details, circling his alibi. Not that I thought, even for a nanosecond, that Audie could be guilty of blackmail or murder. But I had to include the director with people in the theater. In any case, I knew he must be innocent, and his alibi should go a long way toward convincing hard-headed Chief Reiner. I started to tear the page out of the notebook, but something stopped me. Maybe later I would see a connection to someone else.

The second name on my list: Magda Grace Mallory. I wasn’t sure about her connection with the college; she might be on the board of directors. The blackmail threat she received was based on the truth of her relationship to Suzanne. Audie’s words when we first heard about the e-mails came back to me. “
Sooner or later, Elsie will hit too close to the truth, and someone may decide to retaliate
.” Not Magda. I couldn’t imagine Magda hurting a flea.

Suzanne Jay: Did she have an alibi? In fact, I didn’t know the alibi for almost anyone on the list.

Lauren Packer: Did he engage Spencer’s services? They were about the same age. Did they know each other before the janitor’s arrival in town? As Magda’s lawyer, Packer might know her secrets.

Mayor Ron: As mayor, he was de facto director of the college, and as Magda’s brother, he might have known her secret. He was rumored to have received e-mail from Elsie Holland.

Cord Grace: I could think of nothing new about my old friend, except the need to establish his alibi—probably Gene.

Gene Mallory: He was also rumored to have received e-mail from Elsie Holland. Because of his wild youth and unproductive adult life, Magda was pressing him to change. Did he know he had a sister?

Who else? One name jumped to mind, although I knew she was innocent.

Dina Wilde: I considered my sister without prejudice. Could she have uncovered information behind the e-mails? She was a reporter, after all. Still, could I envision her as a blackmailer? No, absolutely not.

I added a few more names to the list, although they had less significant roles in the play. Two of them also had connections to the college.

Peppi Lambert: She was from Chicago, as were Suzanne and Audie. Did they know each other in the past? Was she related to the lady in the nursing home?

Frances Waller
.
She was a police officer who knew more than could be proved about the people of Grace Gulch. I hated to admit it, but Frances remained a strong candidate for Elsie Holland when I added her nightly presence at the library into consideration.

I started to create a page for the chief. After all, he was also a cast member. But I was tuckered out, and I really couldn’t envision him as a blackmailer or a murderer. How could someone who upheld even the silliest laws commit murder?

Had I accomplished anything with my musing? I had identified a number of questions. Tomorrow I would seek answers.

14

From: Elsie Holland ([email protected])

Date: Thursday, April 24, 9:08 PM

To: Cici Wilde (Cici’[email protected])

Subject: Retire the trench coat

While your store has been closed, you have been making the rounds of the county, asking questions.

If you know what is good for you, you will stop pestering old ladies and retire the trench coat.

Friday, April 25

On Friday morning I paid for my late night musings by sleeping late and skipping breakfast. I walked into Gaynor Goodies and ordered two double shot espressos—one to drink now and one for later. I needed something to wake me up; I also added a breakfast croissant.

In between arranging merchandise for reopening, I checked with the college. The board of directors did include both the mayor and Magda; and Lauren taught an introduction to law class every spring semester.

Three busy hours later, Audie bounced into the store, bringing my favorite turkey and cranberry salad sandwich from The Gulch. He looked well-rested. I had awakened from my morning stupor, as well, and determined to ask him about his surprises. I wouldn’t tell him about his appearance on my list of suspects. No need to trouble those waters.

Audie reached out and brushed his fingers against my face. “You look tired. Are you worried about what we found out last night?”

His concern almost melted my determination to ask about the surprises. Almost.

“I’ll be okay.” I shook away his concern. “But I do want to ask you something.” I bit into the sandwich, swallowed, and plunged ahead. “How long have you known about the Center for the Arts and the trust fund? Was that your surprise? Or is it something else?”

Audie raised an eyebrow. “So you agree with Wilde that ‘It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating?’”

Argh. Trust Audie to sidetrack a discussion with a quote from Oscar Wilde. “What, do you think that having secrets makes you fascinating?”

Mischief flashed in Audie’s sapphire eyes. “I like to think so. Come on, part of what you love about me is that I’m not from Grace Gulch. You don’t know everything about me and my family since the land run.” He leaned close enough to kiss me. “And we have a lifetime to learn everything about each other.”

Bingo
.
Part of Audie’s attraction for me—as well as part of my uncertainty—stemmed from his newness. I knew I loved him, and I believed that God had brought him into my life. My thoughts flashed to that compatibility test and hoped it didn’t reveal any big problems. I felt my cheeks heating.

He drew back and let me regain my bearings for a moment. “To answer your question directly, I didn’t know about the trust fund before you did, but I did know about the Center for the Arts. There is more I want to tell you, but I need you to trust me a little while longer. I’ll tell you soon. As soon as a couple more pieces fall into place.”

“Do you intend to do this when we’re married?”

“Do what?” Audie finished his sandwich—tuna salad—and opened up a brownie wrapped in cellophane. He broke it and offered half to me.

“Keep all the facts to yourself until you’ve decided what you want to do?”

This wasn’t 1891, when town founder Bob Grace told his fiancée that he planned to take part in the next land run without asking her opinion. In the twenty-first century, women expected to have a say in family matters.

“Of course not.” Audie seemed surprised. “But I don’t even know the facts yet. Just pray for me, okay? I promise that I’ll tell you soon. Maybe even before we finish that compatibility questionnaire.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “We don’t want to flunk the test.”

I giggled. I could never stay frustrated at Audie for long, and I did trust him.

After we finished eating, I brought up the subject of the investigation. “I want to talk with Magda again, this time about Spencer. I have the feeling that she knows more about him than she’s told us.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Audie nodded. “She might know something about his past that would throw light on his murder.” He gathered the trash and threw it away. “Of course, if she knows anything, she’s already told the police.”

“She hasn’t summoned the chief for an interview. Jessie would have spread the word.” I grinned. “Still, I want to see her again.”

In the end, I decided to call. I explained what I wanted, and she suggested that we meet fifteen minutes before the scheduled rehearsal. After a quiet supper at home, I headed for the theater and brought Magda’s pearls with me, at Audie’s request. He wanted to practice with them at the next couple of rehearsals. I was fingering the necklace when she walked into the office. Always regal, she now also looked serene. Maybe revealing her secrets to us had done that for her.

Magda accepted decaf coffee. The hefty mug looked incongruous in her delicate hands. “I thought about Mr. Spencer on the way over. I wish I could help you, but I don’t know much more about the poor man than what he wrote on his job application. We needed a reliable cleaning crew, and when Lauren recommended Mr. Spencer’s services so highly, I decided to hire him.”

I hoped Magda’s trust in her lawyer wasn’t misplaced. I tried to think what else Magda might know about the janitor. “Did you know his family? They used to live in Grace Gulch.”

Magda shrugged her thin shoulders. “Not well. Lauren mentioned going to school with Mr. Spencer, although I had the impression that he was referring to college.”

Why would a college graduate choose janitorial work as a profession? Maybe it was profitable. Anything was possible. But something else bothered me.

“That’s right, Lauren Packer recommended Spencer.”

“Yes, and his name came up in other places, as well. I believe Ron mentioned him. In fact, the city council is looking for a replacement. City hall can’t lose its sparkle, you know.”

Magda continued in the same vein, talking about the image of Grace Gulch and how important it was to give visitors a good impression of a vibrant historic community and not a dirty backwater ghost town. I agreed, but tonight my mind wandered elsewhere.

Lauren Packer had recommended Victor Spencer to Magda. Why? What had caused a friendship to spring up between a janitor and Grace Gulch’s primary estate lawyer? What school had the two men attended together? How long had they known each other? I ticked off questions to add to my notebook.

The clock in the office chimed seven—time for rehearsal. Before Magda left the room, she spoke again. “There is something else that I want to discuss with you. Please meet me in the office during the break.”

Suzanne cornered me in the hallway. “Magda told me you found out about. . .us,” She whispered and then hugged me. “I’m glad you know.”

“I’m so happy for you.” I meant it.

We made our way to the stage. Gene arrived at the last minute, carrying Bobo in his arms. He spat out his lines during his scene with Suzanne and Magda. The cast loved it. In this case, life imitated art and added realism to his performance. He left as soon as they finished.

Now that I knew the truth about Suzanne and Magda, I wondered why others hadn’t guessed. Audie had paired them as sisters not only because of their acting ability, but also because of their resemblance. All the rest of the Brewsters in the play—crazy Teddy and sinister Jonathan—were portrayed by Graces. (The hero, Mortimer Brewster, played by Lauren Packer, learned he was adopted, and so he didn’t count.) No wonder they made such a believable, if dysfunctional, family. Audie figured that stage makeup would mask the twenty-year age difference between the two actresses.

When they discussed where to bury their latest victim, even their voices sounded alike. Magda’s older, softer alto echoed Suzanne’s strong soprano.

But someone
had
guessed the truth, and tried blackmail—almost certainly one of the people in the theater that night. I watched the other actors, hoping to catch someone studying Magda or Suzanne. No one acted in a suspicious manner.

I made sure I had plenty of cold drinks on hand—I had taken a break from making tea and instead bought a variety of two-liter sodas. As promised, Magda met me in the office as soon as Audie called a halt to rehearsal.

“I have a marvelous idea.” She sounded as excitable as Abby Brewster.

“It will only be a matter of time before people learn about my relationship with Suzanne.”

Did she suspect I would gossip about her secret? “I would never—”

“Of course not. But someone else out there knows the truth and, well, we can’t be sure when the grapevine will learn about it.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry about me. It will be a relief for the truth to finally be told.” She straightened her back, once again the regal matron of the theater. “Rather than waiting for more rumors to spread, I want to make the announcement myself. Suzanne agrees with me. The
Herald
will be interested in the story, don’t you agree?”

I guessed Magda’s intentions.

“Perhaps Dina can interview me. I’ve seen her work at the theater; she’s a level-headed young woman. I’d rather she write the story than that new editor. Do you think she’ll agree to speak with me?”

“Wow.” What an opportunity for my sister. If Hardy, the previous owner of the
Herald
,
were still alive, Magda would have asked him. They were distant cousins, after all. “I know she’d want to talk with you. And she may want to drag Peppi along, since she’s interning at the paper.”

“Very well. I’ll talk with both of them.”

I hesitated, uncertain whether to add more, but decided to plunge ahead. “I think you’re wise to reveal the truth about Suzanne.”

“All the Gaynors will be rejoicing.” Magda looked resigned.

“Perhaps. But most people will admire the way you handled a difficult situation.”

Behind Magda, I saw a flicker of movement. Perhaps someone needed to get more ice or soda from the refrigerator. Or perhaps someone had passed by the door when we discussed the specifics about Suzanne.

If so—the promised interview would come one day too late.