Sealed with a Kill (6 page)

They ate silently, and although Brenna knew that emotional eating wasn’t recommended, she couldn’t deny that she felt better with a mug of hot tea and a gooey brownie inside of her.

When Nate finished his third brownie, he gathered their plates and rinsed them in the sink.

“I’m going to have to walk Hank for an hour to get that sugar out of my system,” he said. “But it was worth it.”

He wandered back to the window to watch what was happening outside.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “That can’t be good.”

“What?”

He was staring toward the communal parking lot, so she hurried to join him by the window.

A team of crime personnel were huddled with Chief Barker and his officers on one side of the van. The body had been placed inside and was visible through the open doors at the back. At least, it was visible until a woman in a canary yellow Windbreaker and matching pants blocked Nate and Brenna’s view.

“Oh, no, she wouldn’t,” she said.

“Uh, yeah, she would,” he said.

Sure enough, while Ella stealthily crept up next to the body bag inside the van, Marie was moving her Buick out of the way and making a great show of it as she lurched toward the crowd of investigators, sending them scattering.

She rounded the other side of the van just as Ella hopped out of the back. They would have made their getaway, too, except Marie clipped the curb with her right front tire, and with a loud bang and a whoosh of air the tire went flat.

“Should we go and assist?” Brenna asked.

“I suppose it would be the neighborly thing to do,” Nate agreed.

Together they trudged up the hill toward the parking lot. Chief Barker looked like he was hanging on to his temper by a mustache hair. The crime scene personnel had climbed into their vehicles and were headed down the drive on their way to the state medical examiner’s facility.

Officers DeFalco and Meyers were sharing a car. They made to help the Porter sisters with their tire, but Nate waved them away.

“I’ll take care of it; you guys have enough on your plate,” he said.

Chief Barker nodded at the men, and they took off in their patrol car with a thanks and a wave.

Marie popped the trunk on the Buick, and Nate pulled out the spare and the jack.

Ella looked at the chief and said, “They’re not going to tell Lester’s widow, are they? Don’t you think that should come from you?”

Chief Barker fixed her with a glare and barked, “What did you say?”

Ella’s eyes went wide. Marie fidgeted beside her twin. “I told you not to say anything.”

“Well, I just assumed they knew who he was but couldn’t say anything until after they told Lydia,” Ella snapped.

Chief Barker took a steadying breath and spoke with a deceptively soft voice. “Explain yourselves, ladies. Who do you think the body is?”

“It’s Harvey Lester,” Ella said. “Anyone could tell you that.”

“And how exactly do you know this?” Chief Barker asked. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you weren’t on the hike today. Was she on the hike today, Brenna?”

Feeling like a snitch, Brenna hedged, “Well . . . uh . . .”

“I thought not,” Chief Barker said. “So, how is it, Miss Porter, that you know the identity of that body?”

“It was only a little peek,” Ella sniffed. “Not really worth mentioning.”

“When?” Chief Barker’s face was becoming redder by the second. “Do not tell me it was while your sister was trying to run us down?”

“That was an accident,” Marie said. “I got confused between the brake and the gas. It happens all the time.”

Chief Barker smacked his hand against his forehead.

“Why didn’t I retire last year? I could have retired, gotten a nice package, and I could be fishing now, but no, I decided to stay. I need to have my head examined.”

He didn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, so while Nate worked on changing the tire, the three ladies watched him pace and mutter to himself. When he finally seemed to run out of steam, he turned to Ella.

“So, how do you know it was Harvey Lester? It’s not like he had much left to identify.”

“Sure he did,” she said. “That man’s had a birthmark in the shape of a corncob on his neck since the day he was born. Right under his right ear and about two inches long; you can’t miss it. And if that isn’t enough, he hasn’t been to the club in over a week. I was just saying to Marie the other day . . .”

“No, I said to you . . .” Marie interrupted.

“No, I am quite positive that it was me who said to you. . .”

“Sister, you are mistaken. I remember distinctly seeing Mrs. Lester alone again at the bar and saying to you that it was odd not to see Mr. Lester with her.”

Ella looked like she was going to wind up and continue the argument. Mercifully, the chief cut her off.

“I want the two of you to give formal statements at the station immediately,” he said. “Do not stop at the beauty parlor, the post office, or Stan’s Diner. Am I clear? You are to travel in a direct line from here to the station.”

Nate put their flat tire into the trunk and slammed it shut. Both Marie and Ella looked quite pleased with themselves and their roles as official body identifiers.

“We’ll see you at the shop,” Ella called to Brenna. Then she glanced at the chief. “Later.”

“Thank you ever so much for your help with our tire, Nate,” Marie said. She gave him her best closed-lipped, coquettish smile.

“Anytime,” he said. Brenna could see his lips twitch as he tried not to laugh.

The sisters fell in line behind the chief’s car, leaving the parking lot quiet for the first time all day.

“Better them than me,” Brenna said. “I can honestly say, this time, this body has nothing to do with me.”

“Except that you found it,” Nate said.

“Well, except for that,” she agreed.

“And except for the fact that Harvey Lester is Rupert Morse’s business partner,” he said.

Brenna slowly turned to face him. “What?”

“Lester and Morse,” Nate said. “Tenley’s father, Rupert Morse, has been partners with Harvey Lester for over forty years.”

“No, it has to be a different Lester,” Brenna said. “And that’s assuming the Porter sisters are right. I mean, a corncob birthmark—why, anyone could have that, right?”

Nate just looked at her, his eyes soft with sympathy.

“They’re right, aren’t they?” she asked.

“The Porter sisters know Morse Point and its residents better than they know themselves,” he said. “Still, there’s always the outside chance that they could be wrong.”

Brenna sighed and turned to admire the lake with all of the glorious autumn foliage circling it like a tiara on a beauty queen’s head.

“I should probably go talk to Tenley. She may want to be the one to tell her dad. This is going to be horrible news for him.”

“Unless he’s the one who did it,” Nate said.

“You have been watching too much
Masterpiece Mystery
,” Brenna chided him. “Rupert Morse a murderer? That man is as straight-laced as they come. I don’t think he could go without wearing his seat belt without hyperventilating, never mind commit murder.”

“People have layers,” Nate said. “You never know what is going on inside someone’s head. All that rule following might have made him snap.”

“And he murdered his partner of forty years?” Brenna asked. “No more
Inspector Lewis
for you.”

Nate began to walk down the hill toward the cabins, and Brenna followed. “I’m just saying, you never know what lengths even the most law-abiding citizen will go to when they feel threatened.”

“Hmm.” Brenna refused to comment further. She was not overly fond of Mr. Morse because he was so stiffly disapproving of Tenley’s desire to own her own business. Still, a murderer? She just couldn’t believe it.

Nate reached out and caught her by the elbow. His gray gaze was intent on hers.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said.

Brenna felt her throat go dry. She coughed to clear it and said, “Of course. I mean, really, this has nothing to do with me, right?”

Nate let her go with a look of concern, and Brenna tried not to analyze it too much. They were friends. Friends worried about each other. There was no reason for her insides to get all fluttery like that. Really.

Brenna had just shut the door behind Nate when her phone rang. It was Tenley.

“Can you come to the shop right now?” Tenley asked without even saying hello.

“Sure,” Brenna said.

She could tell by the high pitch of Tenley’s voice that all was not well. Had the Porter sisters stopped by the shop and told her about Mr. Lester? She was surprised they would go against Chief Barker’s direct order.

“Did Marie and Ella stop by?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t seen them.”

“Oh. Are you all right?” Brenna asked. She wanted to give Tenley the opportunity to talk if she needed it.

“Absolutely. Why? What makes you ask?” Tenley’s voice sounded guarded.

“Uh, no reason,” Brenna said. If Tenley didn’t know about Harvey Lester, Brenna didn’t want to tell her the news over the phone. “I’ll be there in five.”

“Thanks,” Tenley said with a rush of relief. “I owe you a day off.”

“No worries.”

Brenna tied her auburn hair back with a ribbon, grabbed her jacket and her keys, and shot out the door.

The drive into the center of Morse Point was a short one. She turned onto Main Street and then took a right into the alley access road that led to the back of the shop. She parked her Jeep behind Vintage Papers and hurried through the back door.

Tenley was just ringing up a sale to Mrs. Huwiler. She had ordered invitations for her husband’s retirement party set for next month at the Elks’ Lodge.

As soon as Tenley saw Brenna, she grabbed her purse from under the counter, and like a runner passing the baton, she raced out the back door with a faint “See you later” called over her shoulder.

Mrs. Huwiler and Brenna exchanged bemused glances. Brenna forced her lips into a smile.

“Have a nice day,” she said.

“You, too,” Mrs. Huwiler returned, still looking confused.

Brenna kept busy in the shop. She had been working on a new window display showcasing their new autumn papers. They had just received a batch of handmade papers from a paper craftsman in Ohio. They were rich cinnamon browns, saffron yellows, and pumpkin oranges. She threw in some eggplant purple sheets and then placed fat pillar candles surrounded by multicolored gourds and a garland of autumn leaves around the featured papers, and then went out on the street to examine her handiwork.

It made her fingers itch to do some cutting and pasting. She had just been commissioned by the owner of the Willow House to decoupage four round wooden barstools, and she couldn’t wait to get started. They were plain wooden stools that she would paint with a base coat of black. The customer had selected some vintage papers that had guitars on them. She was going to cover the seats with cutouts of classic electric guitars such as Fender, Gibson, and Gretsch, and then seal them with heavy coats of polyurethane. They would live in the bar at the Willow House, a coffeehouse and bar on the edge of town. Brenna was hoping that if the owner liked them enough, he’d commission more from her.

Since the shop was in a midafternoon lull, she pulled out her working folder, an X-Acto Knife, and her cutting board. She sat at the worktable in the back of the shop, slicing the guitars out of the large sheets of paper and fretting about finding a body in the woods, which brought her right back to wondering where Tenley had dashed off to so suddenly.

Brenna wondered if she should have told Tenley about Lester before she hurried out of the shop. What if someone else told her? Then again, maybe that was for the best, since Brenna wasn’t sure how you worked “I found your father’s business partner dead in the woods” into a conversation.

She didn’t know much about Lester and Morse the company. Tenley had once said something about electronic imports, but since she and her family were not presently close, she didn’t talk about them very much, and Brenna didn’t like to bring up what she knew was a sore subject.

She had just finished cutting out her fifth guitar when the front door opened, letting in a rush of chilly air as the Porter sisters pushed their way toward her table at the back of the shop.

“Is Tenley here?” Marie asked.

“I didn’t see her car out front,” Ella said. “And she wasn’t at the police station, either.”

“Why would Tenley be at the police station?” Brenna asked. She put the safety cover on her knife and gathered up her cutouts and papers.

“Well, I would think she’d want to support her father,” Ella said.

“I know they don’t always get on, but still . . .” Marie added.

“What’s going on?” Brenna asked.