Kill them with canvas, p.21
Kill Them with Canvas, page 21
“It’s thirty-five, but you don’t have to pay. The Sisterhood donated money to cover all of our guests. Their way of apologizing, I guess.”
“Um. You mean for trying to sue you after Viola’s death? Yes, I figured that’s the way it would end up. Such a cheap move on their part. Anything to take the focus off the Sisterhood being involved in the tragedy of murder. They can be shady in that way. Just like they were when they closed our chapter and fired Constance.” Her eyes narrowed as her voice and tone grew angry. “I’ll never forgive them for that. Constance and our group deserve better.”
I smoothed the creases in my apron with both hands. “It’s nice how you take such great care of my aunt. She talks about you all the time.”
I didn’t add specifics, especially the negative comments Aunt Constance spouted off. That wouldn’t be wise. Izzie might have it right in calling Marilyn a crazy groupie with a fatal attraction, maybe like the intense and dangerous kind. I had to tread carefully with my words.
She patted her hair. “Yes, well, she deserves the best. I saw you there earlier this week.”
“Sunday.” I nodded. “You drive a blue convertible, right? I spotted you pulling into the driveway as we drove down the street. Poor Aunt Constance wasn’t feeling well that day. Having to answer questions about Viola’s glove being found in her car and so close to being arrested—it nearly made her faint again. Your note seemed to perk her up, which was fortunate after finding the nasty trick-or-treat message with its warning.” I shuddered and rubbed my arms.
Marilyn blinked and her jaw dropped. In the next instant, her mouth snapped shut and she tried for a smile that didn’t quite form.
“Oh? You didn’t know about that?,” I continued. “Well, let me tell you, Aunt Constance is so brave. She insists it’s just some child’s prank. Probably neighbor kids having a little fun. I’m not so sure, though.”
“That’s … how horrible. I should give her a call.” Her eyes fluttered as she rummaged in her bag. “Where is that phone?”
“Marilyn, she’s probably right outside, helping with the Hallows Eve setup. Wouldn’t you think?” I might have gone too far with my comments, but before I could offer her something to drink or suggest she sit for a while, she disappeared outside.
“Well, that was disturbing.” Izzie came from behind me and planted one fist on her side.
“It’s almost like she idolizes Aunt Constance.” I peered through the picture window. Marilyn waved both arms as she took hurried strides toward a group of ladies. Aunt Constance was in the center, pointing at one of the kiosks and shaking her head.
“What a challenge. We have Marilyn, who loves and supports Aunt Constance to a fault. On the other end, there’s Sarah Gilley, who appears to hold a grudge against both our aunt and Viola.”
“That’s true. She threw out a lot of criticism about them but stopped short of suggesting Aunt Constance had murdered Viola.”
“No, but her comments were almost as damaging.” Izzie nudged me. “We should have a talk with Sarah, and soon.”
“Yep.” By now, Marilyn was following Aunt Constance around the lawn, her mouth moving and, I gathered, filling my aunt with plenty about how worried she was.
“Let me go. She might open up to someone who’s a stranger. I can pretend to dislike your aunt, which should make Sarah comfortable to talk.” Willow approached, wiping her hands with a wet cloth.
“Good idea. I’ll have to point her out. If she’s out there, that is.” I walked to the window and scanned the grounds. The tall, white-haired figure should be easy to spot. However, lots of Sisterhood members were older and had the same hair color. “There.” I pointed next to the boat dock. “She’s standing next to—awe sheesh. She’s with Wink. You might have a hard time getting any information with the two of them together.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Izzie grinned and grabbed her phone. “I’ll call to tell him I was passing by his building and there’s a line outside with people holding protests signs about the Gazette publishing biased news. He’ll be running to town in seconds.”
“And when he sees there’s no one there?” I tipped my head to one side. “You don’t think he’ll be at our doorstep, fuming mad that you sent him on a wild chase?”
“Maybe they needed a break. Or the authorities told them to leave because they didn’t have a permit to protest. Seriously, I can come up with a dozen excuses. I’m not worried.” Izzie nodded at Willow. “Just be ready to go out there when he leaves.”
“Are you sure you can handle this?” I clenched my teeth and winced. “Maybe I—”
Willow laid her hand on my arm. “You’ve told me in detail about Sarah, a play-by-play of your conversations, your aunt’s opinion, and anything else. I feel like she’s a member of my family. You know, the grouchy cousin who comes to dinner and puts everyone in a bad mood. I have several like her on my mom’s side. Trust me, I can deal.”
I tousled her pink and purple hair, which made her laugh. “All right, then.”
“Hi, Wink. It’s Izzie. There’s something you might want to take care of.” Izzie waved her arm after she finished the conversation and motioned Willow toward the door.
“Good luck!” I waved as Willow slipped outside. “She’ll be fine, right?” I turned to Izzie.
She shrugged. “Heck if I know.”
“Great.” I tossed the balled paper towel I’d been holding into the trash can.
* * *
Nothing came out of Willow’s talk with Sarah. Wink had returned within five minutes, since all the “protesters” had vanished. The sum total of what Willow had learned was Sarah professing her love for Wink and how they had plans to marry. Willow couldn’t get a word into the conversation about Marilyn or Aunt Constance or Viola. Sarah was gushing with her news. Then Wink pulled her away. Forget marriage plans. The shocker was believing Sarah could turn on the happily ever after charm.
I headed on foot to Millie’s Diner for our takeout. The dinner crowd filled every table available. Millie’s crew of servers bustled from guest to guest, taking orders and delivering meals. The noise of laughter and chatter was almost deafening. I had to shout at Stevie, who was manning the counter.
“Hi, Stevie. I’m here for my order.”
He nodded and held up his finger, then turned to check the trail of bags sitting behind him on a shelf.
I tapped my fingers against my thigh and looked around the room. A high-pitched laugh that sounded like the rat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun rang in my ear. I recognized that laugh. Gwen had to be enjoying herself, probably on a date with Winston. Leaning sideways, I peered through an opening in the wicker trellis that divided us, and my jaw dropped. Not only were Gwen and Winston in my view, but I also spotted Spencer sitting across a table from Ross.
“Hey, Chloe. Here’s your order,” Stevie shouted.
“Shh.” I flapped my arm and glared a warning.
Stevie set the bag on the counter and held up both arms in surrender.
Satisfied and relieved neither of them had heard Stevie, I put my ear as close to the trellis as I could without getting pricked by wood splinters.
“I don’t get you. In fact, I think you should be ashamed. First, you were all for me representing your mom’s case. Now, you’re asking me to help declare her unfit and in need of psychiatric care? And I asked myself why you would even consider doing something so cruel to your mother.” Ross smacked the table. “Then, it hit me.” He stabbed a finger at her. “If the court declares her unfit and sends her for a psych eval, you could get control of her money.”
“No, no, you don’t understand, Ross.” Spencer sobbed. “I’m doing what’s best for my mom. She’s not well and needs help. I can’t—”
“Stop. Would you stop? I’ve heard enough. My answer is no, I won’t do what you’re asking. And no, I won’t step down as your mom’s attorney, not unless she wants me to. I think we’re done, Spencer.” Ross pushed away from the table.
Heat flushed through me. I stormed around the partition and stopped in front of Spencer. “You are—I knew you were up to no good. I told Izzie that I didn’t trust you, and I’m sorry to say I was right. You should be ashamed of yourself, Spencer Abbington. Aunt Constance deserves so much better.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. For an instant, she braced her shoulders and lifted her chin as if to put up a defense. Yet, just as quickly, she dropped her head in both hands, and her whole body shook as she sobbed.
I reached down to stroke her arm. Despite all my complaints about her, she was still my cousin. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—look. I’m worried about your mom, and since you’ve been away, it’s kind of been our job to watch out for her. Bottom line is we’re family, and secrets will only pull us apart.” I knelt down. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” My voice softened to a whisper as the customers around us had begun to stare. “Maybe we should take the conversation outside?”
Ross nodded and called to the server. “You two go on ahead. I’ll take care of this.”
I wrapped an arm around Spencer and led her through the diner to the exit door. Spotting the bench on the corner, I steered her in that direction. “Now, let’s start with why you lied about when you got to town, because I know for a fact that you’ve been staying at the hotel in Laurel Bay for two weeks. I checked.”
She sniffed and dabbed her nose with a tissue. “Mom made me promise not to tell and to keep out of sight for a few days. She said it was better for her if no one found out when I arrived. Chloe, it was frightening to see her that way. She pleaded and cried and begged me to go back to L.A., but I couldn’t leave her like that.”
“Why? I don’t understand.” I gripped my end of the bench. Ross hadn’t appeared, which made me think he was giving us time to talk alone.
Spencer grabbed my arm and squeezed. “This is between you and me. Only you and me. Understand?”
I blinked. What was going on? Dread inched through me and left a sour taste in my mouth. I couldn’t be right about my hunch, could I? Spencer might be mean and insensitive sometimes, but she didn’t have it in her to kill someone. Right?
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“I was at home that horrible night when Viola was murdered. I saw the look on Mom’s face when she came home from your event. She was talking to herself, saying she shouldn’t have left her alone. She made me promise not to tell anyone about that evening because of how it would make her look. I shouldn’t have listened, but she worried if I got involved, I’d have to answer all those questions the authorities would ask.” She squeezed harder and shook her head. “We have to do something. Unless you have a better idea, the only way I can think to keep her out of jail is to put her in a psychiatrist’s care.”
“What are you saying, Spencer?” My heartbeat skipped as she looked away for a second. When she turned to face me, I froze. I could count on one hand the number of times she’d looked frightened. This was one of them.
Her tongue ran along her upper lip. “Chloe, I think, I mean, I know Mom killed Viola Finnwinkle.”
Chapter Seventeen
I dragged the rake to gather more leaves into a pile along the front edge of our property, where the trucks would drive by to suck them up with their machines. I took a deep breath. The ground released a musky scent where it had been uncovered and laid bare. Despite the busywork, my mind kept looping through what Spencer had said. I couldn’t accept the idea that Aunt Constance was guilty of hurting anyone, no matter how strong her words might be at times.
Peeking around the side of the house, I spotted Mom and Dad raking near the back of our lot. Early this morning, they’d recruited Izzie and me to help before we’d had much of a chance to talk. We decided to keep quiet about the startling information Spencer had told me. Mom and Dad didn’t need any unnecessary worries.
Last night, Ross and I had taken charge and delivered Spencer back to her hotel room, where she took a sedative and went straight to bed. I’d called Izzie to give her a quick version of the story and told her to order something else for dinner. I’d left Millie’s in such a hurry, I’d forgotten our takeout. As it turned out, Millie, being the sweetheart we all loved, had sent Stevie to the shop to deliver the meal. By the time I returned, Izzie and Willow were finishing up their food, and mine was tucked away in the fridge.
I leaned my rake against the nearby tree and walked to where Izzie stood. “We need to talk, to plan, to figure out what to do next.” I shoved both hands in my pockets to take off the chill.
Izzie sighed. “And do what? Spencer says Aunt Constance killed Viola. She claims Aunt Constance acted and talked like she was guilty of the crime. She says a lot of things, but she doesn’t have proof.”
“But she heard Aunt Constance talk to herself. ‘I shouldn’t have left her alone.’ What if she meant Viola? I’m not agreeing with Spencer. I don’t really think Aunt Constance killed Viola, but she might have seen something and is afraid to tell anyone. Right? It’s possible. You know she hasn’t really explained that missing hour, the one she has no alibi for.” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “What if she was there when Viola was murdered?”
Izzie threw up her arms. “Please, Chloe. We don’t know who Aunt Constance was referring to when she said that. As far as acting upset and panicky, she’d just learned the bad news about the Sisterhood chapter and her job. Who wouldn’t be upset about that? Spencer got it wrong. She’s overreacting.”
“Maybe. At least I’m pretty sure Ross and I talked her out of that ridiculous plan.”
“Committing Aunt Constance to a loony bin? Totally wrong.” Izzie leaned her cheek against the rake handle.
“Loony bin?” I scoffed. “Nice choice of words.”
Izzie rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant. Okay, she suggested a psych eval and some treatment to keep her out of jail. Still, not a smart plan.”
“Right again. All the more reason to concentrate on our suspect list. We need to learn more about Marilyn and Sarah, for starters. Maybe follow them around and see if it leads to something useful. Or …” I tapped my lip, and all at once my eyes popped wide open.
“Or what?” Izzie leveled her gaze. “I’m worried already, and you haven’t even told me what devious plan is circling around in your brain.”
“A game of hearts. We flush out the queen—or in this case, the killer.” Heat warmed my cheeks as my confidence grew. “We send notes, anonymously of course, to each of them. Something like, ‘I know you killed Viola Finnwinkle. If you don’t meet me at the ferry dock this evening at nine and bring ten thousand dollars, I’ll go to the authorities.’ What do you think?”
She reared back her head. “Scary but impressive. My cautious self is saying it’s too risky. Don’t shake your head. Your impulsive side is taking charge. I get it, but what if one of them brings a gun and tries to shoot us? Or here’s a thought: maybe neither one is the killer. We’ve wasted an evening playing blackmail when we could’ve been out doing some real investigating.”
“Yeah, all of that’s true.” I wrinkled my nose, but a slight grin surfaced. “So, are you in? We can go upstairs and write those blackmail letters. Oh—wait! A quicker way would be to call, disguise our voices, and give them the message. What do you think? Yeah, much better.”
“They’ll recognize our phone numbers, Chloe.” She sighed.
“Burner phone.” I grinned. “We can buy a disposable one at the gas station, ditch it when we’re through. Easy peasy.”
“This could go so wrong, and if Hunter finds out, he’ll never forgive us.”
“Stop worrying about Hunter. We’re desperate. Spencer could change her mind and go through with her plan. Can you see Aunt Constance surviving in a funny farm?” I demanded.
“Funny farm?” Izzie tsked as she slowly shook her head. “And you criticize me for being insensitive. Okay, so we’re desperate and time’s ticking.”
“You’re with me, then?” I winked. “Don’t worry. If guns start firing, I’ll jump in front of you and take the hit.”
“You’re not funny.” She grabbed her rake and walked to the shed.
“A little funny,” I shouted while jogging over to where I’d left mine.
“Not even.”
I laughed, and with rake in hand, I ran to catch up. Sparks of enthusiasm surged through me. Sure, the plan could be risky, but we were running out of options and needed to eliminate suspects. I hadn’t given up on Dewey being the guilty one. Time and place fit, and if his prints were on the paddle, not to mention on the bag, Hunter would think so too. However, since he was MIA, we couldn’t do anything about him until he surfaced from his hiding place.
“Operation Flush the Queen is about to go down, Aunt Constance,” I whispered.
* * *
“Welcome, everyone. Chloe, Willow, and I are so glad you came out this evening for our Trick Your Pumpkin event. We have paints, glitter, rhinestones, and even stick-on decorations for those who are super enthused about glamming up their pumpkins.” Izzie beamed with a mile-wide grin.
“You’ll find apple cider and donuts from For Sweet’s Sake along the back counter. Help yourselves. We’ll get started in a few minutes,” I added.
“We can still back out, you know. If we don’t show up at the dock, no harm done,” Izzie whispered.
“We’ve taken it this far. If you’ve changed your mind, it’s fine. I’ve got my baseball bat and police whistle.” I kept facing the doorway, where Willow stood greeting our guests, and waited for a couple of them, in particular, to appear. The burner phone had worked perfectly. Both Marilyn and Sarah had answered on the first ring. Since Izzie was too nervous, I had handled the calls. I quickly gave the message, then hung up before either one could say a word.
