by Sonia Parin
“Which one?”
“About the accountant and the lawyer. I assume Warren Kinsley named the lawyer as executor of the will. That’s when he took over the estate and so, that’s when he started paying the bills.”
Yes, that made sense. If only she’d figured it out the night before, she would have been spared several tosses and turns. What else had she talked about with Joshua? She wished she’d taken notes. “Hang on. Here’s another thought.” Abby sprung upright. “The carousel.”
“What about it?” Faith asked.
“Joshua and I spent most of the night talking about it and looking at every single photo I took.” Abby turned to Frankie. “Do you remember the carousel being at the circus?”
Frankie gave the counter a wipe. “Actually, no. We had concession stands but never rides.”
“Is that our task for today?” Faith asked. “Find out where the carousel came from?”
Why would Warren Kinsley sell the circus and then buy a carousel? Abby stared at the coffee machine as she answered, “There has to be a money trail. Joshua said he was going to chase it up today. If Warren purchased the carousel after he retired, then we’ll have to focus on the carousel. I’m prepared to tear it apart to get to the bottom of this.”
“I hope it won’t come down to that,” a familiar voice said. Joshua took the barstool next to her. “Wow. You look happy.”
Abby pumped her fists in the air. “We’re back in business. May I present to you the pub’s new barista. Frankie Short, coffee maker extraordinaire. Go ahead, order a coffee.”
Frankie set a cup down in front of Joshua. “I’m calling it the Deadly Serious.”
Two sips later, Joshua smiled. “I can feel it coursing through my veins. Well done.”
“She’s a gem. One cup and I remembered we’d been talking about the carousel. Did you find out anything new?”
Joshua nodded. “I asked the accountant if he’d organized to have it delivered to the house. He drew a blank. Everything belonging to the circus had been itemized. Guess what?”
“No carousel?”
***
AFTER SEVERAL MORE CUPS OF revitalizing coffee and a satisfying breakfast, Abby and Faith returned to the apartment.
“While Joshua chases up the carousel, we’ll focus on the rest.” Abby pointed at her crime board. “The facts we need are right here. We only have to dig deeper and ask the right questions.”
Faith flipped through her little notebook. “It’s amazing the difference a few cups of good coffee make. I feel I’ve been reborn. Unfortunately, I’ve hit a dead-end. I tracked down the retirement village he’d lived in. Unless the photos on the website are fake, it’s actually more of a luxury hotel with a view of the sea. I exchanged a few emails with the manager. She told me Warren had enjoyed walking every day, sometimes twice a day, but he’d kept to himself. I pretended to be his grand-daughter and got the manager to tell me he’d been a gentleman but quite unsociable.”
“Then, there’s no chance he shared information about the circus with anyone living there.”
Faith agreed. “We need more suspects.”
“And where exactly would you like me to pluck them out from? The killer is playing a waiting game before he strikes again.” Abby would give anything to have overheard the conversation between the killer and Sam. For some reason, she imagined Sam had known the killer.
He’d been shot in the back. Had he been trying to run for cover? Or had the killer surprised him? Why had he killed him? To get Sam out of the way? That would have left Kinsley vulnerable. The killer might have planned it that way so he could have easy access to the house.
She hummed under her breath.
Would the killer have struck again by targeting Kinsley? Abby didn’t think so. Another death would have attracted even more police scrutiny, making it near impossible to search the house. Assuming there was something to search for…
As Abby threw her head back and sighed, her cell phone rang. She reached for it saying, “At the end of the day, we don’t have a thread of evidence telling us Kinsley had been the real target. For all we know, the killer has already done his job and moved on. That would be a relief for Kinsley, but we’d still need to get justice for Sam.” She pressed her cell phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Abby,” her mom sounded surprised.
“Mom?”
“Who is Kinsley and why do you need to get justice for Sam?”
Abby looked at Faith and repeated her mom’s question. “Oh… You heard that?”
“Yes. I suppose you’re now going to try to wiggle out of explaining yourself.”
“Why would I do that?” Abby gestured with her hand and drew a question mark in the air. She watched Faith scramble for paper and a pen.
“Did someone get killed?”
Abby didn’t want to lie to her mom. Nor did she want her to worry about her wellbeing. “Killed? If someone had been killed, why would I lie about it?”
Faith held up the piece of paper and grinned.
“Because you want to keep me in the dark.”
Giving Faith a thumbs up sign, Abby said, “Mom, we’re playing a game. Remember how we used to play Clue? Well, down under, it’s called Cluedo and we’re getting right into it.”
“And that’s a likely story if ever I heard one. It didn’t sound like a game to me.”
“We’ve customized it.” Abby engaged her imagination and tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. “Faith made up a scenario… you know, a script, and we’ve been trying to unravel the clues.”
“Okay. I want in,” her mom said.
“Huh?”
“I want to play too.”
Abby lifted her brows and mouthed, “What do I do?”
“Put her on speaker,” Faith whispered.
Although reluctant to do so, Abby went ahead and put her mom on speaker.
“Hi, Eleanor,” Faith chirped. “You haven’t met Kinsley.”
Abby smacked her hand against her head. Why had Faith mentioned Kinsley?
“Hello, Eleanor.”
“Hello, Kinsley. Who’s trying to kill you?” her mom asked.
Kinsley sat up. “Well, we don’t know exactly. In fact, not even Faith knows and she wrote the scene.”
Faith gave her an encouraging nod.
“This is what we know so far,” Kinsley went on to say. “I inherited a house from someone I didn’t know. Then a few months back, a man started working for me and, recently, he turned up dead… in my garage.”
Close enough to the truth, Abby thought.
“Is there a butler in the script?” her mom asked. “They’re usually guilty of something. Or they have some vital information they’re withholding.”
“No, no butler,” Faith said.
“But there’s an accountant,” Abby piped in.
“Is there money involved?” her mom asked.
Faith didn’t bother trying to find a fictional twist, “We think there might be.”
“Then, I suggest you follow the money trail. See if someone is in debt and in need of money,” her mom suggested.
“That’s a great idea, Eleanor. Why didn’t we think of it?” Faith looked at Abby and pointed at the crime board.
Abby turned and studied it. They really could have done with more suspects. So far, the accountant had been forthcoming with information. Had that been his way of hiding something vital? Gesturing to Faith, she asked for her cell phone and sent Joshua a text message.
When Faith’s cell phone rang, Abby strode off toward her bedroom and answered, “Hello.”
“Why are you whispering?” Joshua asked.
“I’m trying to avoid having to explain another murder case to my mom. You know she gets jittery and worries about me.”
“Would you like me to have a chat with her and assure her all is well?” Joshua asked.
“What? No. If she thinks you’re around, she’ll suspect foul play, but thank you for offering. Now, about the
accountant. Is there some way of looking into his financials?”
“Don’t you think he would have acted long before Sam turned up in Eden?” Joshua asked. “Never mind, don’t answer. I’ll look into it and let you know because if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Thank you, detective. Now I have to return to a pretend game of Clue.”
***
“YOUR MOM IS LOVELY,” KINSLEY said as she settled down on the couch.
Faith agreed. “I can’t wait to meet her in person. Any chance she might come to visit you?”
“She doesn’t like to fly. I can’t picture her spending over eighteen hours on a plane.” Abby stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I’m thinking I might take a couple of weeks off and pay her a visit.”
“If she’s afraid of flying, you could organize a virtual tour. Do a whole trip with her,” Faith suggested. “Then she’ll see there’s nothing to it.”
“A virtual tour?”
“As in, you connect via video chat.”
Abby tried to picture it in her mind. She did video chats with her mom, but they were limited to brief conversations.
“It would be like traveling without leaving home,” Faith added. “Everyone in town would love to meet your mom and it would be a wonderful way for her to get a feel for your daily routine.”
“That’s actually a good idea.” Abby wrinkled her brow. “Although… She’d be with me 24/7.”
Faith gave a vigorous nod. “Yes, think how much fun that would be.”
“What if something happens?”
“Oh, you mean, a murder.” Faith laughed. “What are the chances? Chill out. It’s bound to be smooth sailing.”
Yet, Abby couldn’t help feeling the odds wouldn’t favor her. “Okay, I’ll think about it.” Abby clapped her hands. “Playtime is over. We need to get back to our crime board.”
Kinsley sighed. “Is there something I can do?”
Abby searched through the pile of papers stacked on the coffee table. “Last night, Joshua emailed me a list of the small towns the circus visited. This morning, he brought along a hard copy. I guess he’s trying to make up for something. You could go through the list and see if anything rings a bell.”
A light knock at the door had Faith leaping to her feet. When she opened the door, she yelped. “Frankie! You brought coffee. Come in. Your timing is perfect. We need some revving up.”
Frankie strode in and set a tray down on the coffee table. “I brought you something else.” She dug an envelope out of her back pocket and handed it to Abby. “Look after them. I don’t have many photos.”
Abby took the small stack out of the envelope. “Fantastic. This will help us focus.” She placed a photo of Sam Peters on the crime board and sat down to look at the rest. They’d all been taken at the circus. There were a couple of him and Frankie together. In one, Frankie had her arm around his shoulder and her head leaning against his. Clearly, they’d been good friends.
Abby could see what Mitch had meant by Sam’s weather-beaten face. He’d probably spent a lot of time working outdoors. There were deep ridges along his forehead and cheeks. She guessed he must have been in his late fifties. His light brown hair stuck out in tufts and his skin looked bronzed.
“In his youth, he’d spent a number of years up north working as a rodeo clown,” Frankie said. “He gave it up after he broke his leg.”
“That explains his limp.” Kinsley picked up a photo. Her smile held a hint of fondness. “But it didn’t slow him down.”
Frankie looked at the photo Abby had taped on the wall. The edge of her lips lifted. “Yeah, Sam liked to keep himself busy.”
Abby pointed to one of the photos. “Is this Warren Kinsley in the background?” She thought she recognized him from the video Kinsley had hunted down.
Frankie leaned in to take a closer look. “Yes. He’s someone else who liked to keep busy. Always on the hop and he liked to keep his finger on the pulse.”
Clean-shaven, his mop of gray hair looked windswept. He stood several feet behind Sam so he looked slightly shorter but Abby knew if they had stood side by side they would have been the same height. The photo had captured him striding by, with his attention momentarily drawn to the person holding the camera. Or Sam? “How old was he here?”
“That would have been taken about five years ago and he’d been in his sixties.”
“He must have had a special relationship with Sam,” Abby mused.
“What makes you think that?” Faith asked.
“I mentioned this to Joshua… I think. Frankie said she witnessed an altercation between them. Sam clearly stepped out of line yet he didn’t get fired. He must have thought he had enough leeway to speak his mind and get away with it.” And yet, he’d packed up and left, Abby thought. Had he felt strongly enough about his opinions to cut his losses? Frankie had said Sam had been a creature of habit and would have stayed on working at the circus forever.
The moment Kinsley inherited the house, Sam had turned up in town. Before that, he would not have known where to look for her. By her own admission, Kinsley had been a rolling stone. Warren Kinsley’s death had triggered a domino effect and it had resulted in Sam’s murder.
Abby turned to look at Kinsley.
She sat with her feet tucked under her, and her fingertips pressed to her mouth. She’d set the photos down and had picked up the circus touring dates.
“Did you find something?” Abby asked.
“I’m not sure. This list only goes back ten years. I wonder if the schedule was the same for the previous years.”
“Why?”
Kinsley looked up. She didn’t blink as she said, “I don’t know what this means, but every year in May, the circus came to town. As in, the town I was born in. My mom always made a joke about the name, saying they’d named a circus after me.”
Chapter Thirteen
ABBY DIDN’T NEED TO ASK if Kinsley had ever been to the circus. They all fell silent as she reminisced about her childhood.
“My mom would take me to the circus as a treat. I remember she always fussed about my appearance, making sure I had a pretty dress to wear. We always had front row seats. Then, when I turned twelve, we moved.” Kinsley smiled. “I’d forgotten. I guess other memories took over. We moved close to the beach, then I hit my teens and going to the circus became a distant memory of something I’d done as a kid.” She tilted her head. “It’s strange. I don’t remember ever being that excited about going to the circus.” Looking at Abby, she added, “Everyone seemed to love the clowns. Even back then, I’m sure I found them creepy.”
Sinking down on the edge of the couch, Abby studied the touring schedule.
“I suspect I really didn’t like it. Otherwise, I would not have buried the memory.” Kinsley shrugged. “There must be so much stuff one simply forgets, but surely it would’ve come back when I moved into the house and saw the carousel.”
Not necessarily, Abby thought, since there hadn’t been a carousel at the circus. “Did you ever look at the stuff that had been covered?”
Kinsley shook her head. “Not after I realized what it was. I saw the ticket booth and that was enough for me.” She shivered. “I don’t need to tell you; scary movies make me check under my bed. I wonder if I had a bad experience at the circus?”
Had Kinsley hit on a connection? Or was it nothing more than coincidence?
Kinsley chuckled. “All my friends had birthday parties. I got to go to the circus.”
“You were born in May?”
Kinsley nodded.
***
ACCORDING TO JOSHUA, WARREN KINSLEY’S accountant had retired just after Warren. He’d worked from a home office and, to his wife’s chagrin, he still kept all his client files stored in the garage.
The fact Joshua had agreed to give Abby the accountant’s contact number put a light spring to her step. It showed he trusted her enough to tread with care and not impede his investigation into the accountant
’s financials. “Joshua’s not a bad sort, but that opinion could change at any moment.” Abby smiled at a passerby and stopped to give Doyle a chance to pick up a few scents. While she waited, she saw a tourist bus drive by followed by a pickup truck. When the driver waved at Abby she waved back. Looking down at Doyle, she smiled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Abby had tried to avoid it, but her mind kept going toward the thought. Why had Kinsley’s mom always taken her to the circus for her birthday?
Abby really didn’t like coincidences.
She had asked Kinsley about her parents’ marriage. According to Kinsley, she’d never had any reason to think they hadn’t been happy.
Abby had waited a few moments, and then she’d excused herself saying she needed to take Doyle for a walk. She had to contact the accountant and get more information out of him. But she couldn’t do that within Kinsley’s hearing, just in case she let something slip and alerted Kinsley to her train of thought…
Another car drove by. When the driver waved, Abby smiled. “I wonder where Mitch is going? He must be happy with Frankie to leave her in charge of the bar.”
Running footsteps approached. She turned and saw Faith grinning and waving with both hands. “I got away as soon as I could.”
“I wondered if you’d read my eye signals.” When Abby had left the apartment saying she needed to take Doyle out for a walk, she’d made eye contact with Faith, and had tried to suggest Faith follow her.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Faith asked.
Abby nodded. “I haven’t called the accountant yet, but I’m willing to bet anything he will confirm our suspicions.” The touring schedule Joshua had given her only went back ten years. Abby would bet anything the circus had maintained the same schedule for years, always hitting the same small towns at the same times every year.
Kinsley had said the circus had come to her home town every year around May, but Abby needed to confirm this.
