Read This Old Murder Online

Authors: Valerie Wolzien

Tags: #Fiction

This Old Murder (8 page)

BOOK: This Old Murder
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“Well, I heard that Courtney told someone that you would like to kill her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Sam protested. “Your mother doesn’t get that mad at people she doesn’t even know!”

Josie glanced up at Sam, over at her son, and then down at her empty bowl. She wouldn’t, she decided, say anything. It was safer that way.

TEN

IT HAD BEEN a long time—a very long time—since Josie had felt so completely alone. Awake in the middle of the night and too worried to remain in bed, she had gotten up, planning to walk on the beach for a bit. Instead, almost without thinking, she had found herself driving to Island Contracting’s office.

Now she sat in her truck, engine and lights off, staring at the tiny building, remembering the first time she’d seen it.

Back then her life had been a mess.

Brought up with the expectation that she would continue her education after high school, she had dutifully headed off to the ivyless college her mother had attended. But that was as far as the dutiful daughter role had taken her. No one had expected her to fall in love with practically the first young man she met there. Or to get pregnant by him. And as far as her family was concerned, her decision to keep her baby had been the last straw. They broke off their connection with her, possibly to try to force her to come around to their way of thinking and if not to get an abortion, at least to give up her child for adoption.

Confused and more than a bit frightened, Josie had come to the island where she had spent many happy summers as a child, allowed to run free from parental control on the wide beaches and in the two small towns that made up the community. She had come back for comfort. What she had found was a life.

It’s always easy to get a low-paying menial job in a resort community during the high season. Workers can be difficult to find, and her employer had been willing to ignore her slightly bulging waist when he put her on the payroll. Josie had been a waitress at a local restaurant when she met Noel Roberts. Other than surviving, she’d made no plans either for herself or her child. She had walked from her rooming house to this very spot early in the morning the day after Noel had offered her a future.

And standing near where now she sat, she had decided to take Noel up on his offer. She would work for Island Contracting. He would train her as a carpenter and she would have her baby and raise him or her on the island. At the time, it had sounded like a miracle. And it turned out to be true. Then, after Noel’s death, when she discovered that he had left her his business as well as a trust fund just big enough to send Tyler to boarding school and college, she had been more grateful than ever.

She thought she had left her past behind. Until Courtney Castle arrived on the island. Josie sighed and got out of her truck. If she couldn’t sleep, maybe she could get some paperwork done, she decided, walking down the familiar path in the dark. She unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. The office cat, a regal tabby known as Elizabeth, looked up from the bed she had made for herself in the piles of paper on Josie’s desk.

“You’re going to have to move if I’m going to get anything done,” Josie murmured, heading for the coffeemaker atop a file cabinet at the back of the room.

The cat ignored her, carefully positioning her head on her paws and closing her eyes. Josie frowned. Oh, well, she was too tired to concentrate on figures anyway. She proceeded to make a pot of coffee. She grabbed the mug with the words “Super Mom” on the side, poured out a cup, and walked out on the tiny deck that hung over the bay from the fishing shack Noel had converted into Island Contracting’s office. The sky was turning pink, reflecting the sunrise beginning over the Atlantic behind her. Josie plopped down on a plastic folding chair, sipped her coffee, and wondered what she should do.

It all depended, she decided, on what had happened to Courtney. But what had happened? Josie didn’t for a minute believe that Courtney had been killed or was even missing. She had thought it all out while tossing and turning and trying to sleep.

The police line that had kept the curious from intruding on the work site had, in a sense, created an island on the real island. Courtney couldn’t have walked or driven away without being seen; that was something everyone seemed to agree upon. Unless . . . Josie balanced her mug on the deck railing and went back into the office for a pen and paper. There was just enough light for her to see, and she wrote three words each followed by a question mark. Disguised? Hidden? Alone? It was the third word that interested her the most.

She doodled as she thought it all through again. Someone—or Courtney herself—had written a note about killing Courtney. That was either true or false. But, she decided, it didn’t make all that much difference. What mattered was that Courtney had vanished. She could have left alone. If dead, she must have been carried. But the third possibility, the one Josie hadn’t thought of until the caffeine kicked in, was that Courtney had left, alive and kicking, and aided and abetted by someone. Someone who had either hidden or disguised Courtney in some way. Someone who knew why she had disappeared, where she had gone, and what, exactly, was going on.

“That woman hasn’t changed a bit since we were kids,” Josie muttered to herself, straightening her spine and propping her legs up on the rail, and accidentally kicking her mug into the water. “Oh no!” She leaped to her feet. A small whirl-pool was the only sign of her mug’s entrance into the water.

She was still staring at the spot when she heard the door open behind her.

“Josie, it’s me.”

She smiled. Sam was such a sweetie, identifying himself quickly so that he didn’t scare her. Then a thought struck. “Why are you here? Is something wrong? Tyler . . .”

“. . . is just fine.”

“Then why are you here? Why are you awake?”

“I always wake up when the phone rings. Risa called. She saw you leave your apartment and was worried about you.”

“How did she . . . How did you know I would be here?”

“I didn’t. In fact, I assumed you were on your way to your current work site, but I didn’t want to cross the police line to find out if you were there unless it was absolutely necessary. I’ve decided that the best thing to do to maintain any peace of mind around here is to stay as far away from the Rodneys as possible. So I drove around a bit looking for your truck.” He brushed her hair off her forehead. “Did I smell fresh coffee inside?”

“Just made.”

“Do you want some?”

“The mug Tyler gave me for Mother’s Day is down there.” Josie looked over the rail.

“That’s what you were looking for just now? I thought you were checking your trap.” Sam looked over at the water, shimmering in the first light of day. “It is down there, too, isn’t it?”

Josie reached behind him to the rope tied to the rail. “It’s a bit early for blue crabs, but I couldn’t resist putting the trap out last week. The bait’s probably gone. I sometimes think I spend the first month of the season feeding minnows.” She was pulling on the rope as she spoke and a large commercial crab trap broke through the surface of the water. Her mug was sitting, eerily upright, on its top. “Hey, look at that!”

“Careful. Just pull it straight up and I’ll try to grab it.” He had done it before he said it.

“And look! Crabs!”

“Frankly, I’m more interested in coffee right now,” Sam admitted as Josie lowered the large wire box back into the bay.

“And I got my mug back!”

“Maybe you should volunteer to help with the dredging if they ever decide to do it,” Sam suggested, a broad smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath. You know, I’ve been thinking about Courtney all night. It’s why I couldn’t sleep. And I have some ideas about her disappearance.”

“Let me get some of your dreadful coffee and you can tell me all about it.”

Josie spent a few minutes organizing her thoughts. She’d present Sam with her theories in a manner he couldn’t ignore.

“Okay. Start,” he ordered, passing her some coffee and sitting down on the old ice chest that was a permanent fixture back there.

“Well, think a minute. The first thing we need to know is whether Courtney was working alone or with someone else—”

“Not whether she’s dead or alive?”

“I’m assuming she’s alive.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Go on.”

“Well, as I was saying, the first thing we need to know is whether or not Courtney had someone helping her disappear. I think she probably did.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t be in two places at once, right?”

“I wouldn’t even consider arguing with you—or anyone else—about that.”

“So I think the other person was necessary to leave the note in her dressing room.”

“And when do you think that happened?”

“I should tell you this in order. I figure Courtney and this other person—”

“Call him—or her—X, why don’t you?”

“Good idea. I think Courtney and X either wrote the note together or Courtney wrote it and gave it to this X. So while Courtney was with me on the front deck of the house—”

“What were you two doing on the deck?”

“I told you. She was interviewing me. And we weren’t alone. Bobby Valentine was there as well as the cameraman. I guess that means neither of them could be X, right?”

“If your logic holds, yes.”

Josie smiled. “So while Courtney was interviewing me, X put the note in her trailer. Then, probably . . . I’m a bit less sure about this,” she admitted. “Then Courtney either disguised herself or . . . X somehow packed Courtney in . . . something and carried her away.”

“Alive.”

“Oh, yes, alive.”

“Josie, it’s early and perhaps I’m missing something here, but why are you so sure Courtney is alive?”

“Because she’s the type of person who would do something like this!”

“Something like fake her own death?”

“Yes, she was always like that . . .” Josie shut up, appalled at what she had done.

Sam was quiet a moment, looking out over the bay. A few gulls had appeared, gliding on the air currents, apparently thrilled to have made it through the night. A slight breeze was blowing, spreading the unmistakable scent of the littoral plain. Josie raised her mug to her lips and waited for Sam to speak.

“When you say she was always like that, you are referring to what time?”

“I knew Courtney before,” Josie admitted.

“I was beginning to get that impression. How long ago did you meet?”

Josie thought for a moment. “I guess it was in the Brownies.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think we were in the same Brownie troop. That would be about second or third grade, right?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“I thought maybe no one would have to know about this,” Josie admitted.

“About what? Your past relationship with Courtney?”

“We didn’t actually have a relationship,” Josie protested. “We just knew each other.”

“You mean you haven’t seen her since . . . you were in elementary school?”

“Oh, no, we went through junior high and high school together.” She paused. “And we started off at the same college. I suppose she may have stayed around long enough to graduate.”

“Let me get this straight. You were—are—lifelong friends with Courtney Castle.”

“No, Sam! It’s not like that at all! We weren’t friends. We could hardly stand each other.”

“I was hoping you weren’t going to say something like that.” Now it was Sam’s turn to sigh. “Josie, I would really appreciate it if you would tell me all about your relationship— friendly or not—with Courtney Castle.”

“It’s sort of a long story.”

“I really think it’s worth taking the time to tell it.”

“Well, I don’t know where to begin.” She took a deep breath. “Our mothers were best friends, you see. They were roommates in college. Which is why Courtney and I ended up at the same college years later.”

“You’re not telling me that you and Courtney were college roommates?”

“No way! We were hardly speaking to each other by the time we went to college.”

“Josie, I’ve done my share of questioning of witnesses. Some tell you nothing. And some tell you so much that it takes a lot of work to figure out what’s important. The second type is the most irritating. And you’re beginning to remind me of them.”

“I’m sorry. It was stupid to think I wouldn’t have to tell you this.

“At first I didn’t believe it,” she continued. “I mean, I thought I must be imagining things. That maybe Courtney Castle just looked like the woman I used to know. It’s been years, remember.”

“It is a rather unusual name though.”

“Oh, her name wasn’t Courtney Castle when I was growing up. I knew her as Courtney Casell. The spelling is different,” she explained when Sam gave her a strange look.

“But you did recognize her,” Sam prodded her.

“Not at first. She was older, of course. And when I knew her she had straight, thin brown hair.”

“It’s amazing what money, time, and a good hairdresser can do,” Sam commented.

“Yeah, I guess.” She hoped that wasn’t a hint.

“But you did recognize her eventually.”

“Yes. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just couldn’t believe it! I mean, here we were in the same business, sort of. Of course, she’s famous and on television and all, and I just have Island Contracting here, but we’re both carpenters and all. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. I was so stunned that I didn’t really think about how little building she actually did. She’s more of an interviewer than a carpenter.”

“You met her when you were in second or third grade?” Sam’s question headed her back to the point.

“Yes. Our mothers had known each other forever, but my family moved that year. Up.”

“You moved up?”

“Exactly. My father got a promotion—I guess—and we moved to a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood. I changed schools and started in the Brownies. And met Courtney.”

“And you were friends?”

“Never. I don’t remember all that well, but I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days and I don’t think we ever had a chance to become friends. You see, my mother wanted me to be like Courtney and she was very open about her feelings. Even a kid isn’t going to like someone her mother holds up as a good example. Courtney was thin. Courtney was a straight-A student. Courtney was popular. Courtney could play the piano. Courtney was on the swim team and, despite my extra fat, I sank like a stone to the bottom of the country club pool.” She noticed Sam’s eyebrows rise at the mention of her family’s club membership, but she didn’t feel she had to explain her entire past right then. “You get the idea. I couldn’t like someone I was always being compared to.”

BOOK: This Old Murder
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