MURDER WITH ALL THE TRIMMINGS

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “What?” Arlena asked, her smile faltering. “When?”

  “Tomorrow,” Randall said.

  “Dad,” Max said, “what are you talking about? What do you mean you’re getting married tomorrow?”

  “Well, maybe not tomorrow,” Randall said, eyeing Sybil next to him. “But as soon as possible.”

  Arlena and Max stared at each other a beat, then Sam said, “This calls for a toast! It’s not every day two Madisons get engaged, right?”

  “Well, in Dad’s case…” Max began.

  Penelope cleared her throat and leveled her gaze at Max.

  “Good one, son,” Randall said. “But this time, I’ve met my match.”

  Arlena’s smile amped back to full brightness as Sam made his way back to the turkey and started filling the platter again. Jackson looked relived.

  “I’ll get the champagne,” Penelope said. “Double congratulations are in order.” She inched her chair back and hurried to the kitchen.

  Penelope paused at the island and placed her hand on the cool granite, steadying herself for a moment. A wave of emotion came over her, one of pure happiness for Arlena. A major shift was about to take place, one that would impact her life too. Her heartbeat settled and she smiled, then took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

  “Is the bathroom through here?” Ashley appeared in the doorway, causing Penelope to jump a little.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, “there’s a powder room in the hallway.” She pointed toward the foyer.

  “This is a very different kind of Thanksgiving than I’m used to,” Ashley said, shaking his head. “Talk about feeling like a third wheel.”

  “You shouldn’t feel like that, Ashley,” Penelope said with a smile. “The Madisons are very inviting.”

  “Yeah,” Ashley said. “When I told Max I was going to get some takeout and watch football, he insisted I come with him to dinner.”

  Penelope opened the refrigerator and pulled out the champagne. “That sounds like Max.” A muffled burst of laughter floated to them from the other room.

  “Can I help with that?” Ashley asked.

  “Sure,” Penelope said, placing the bottles on the counter. She went to the cupboard above the wine rack and reached up for the champagne flutes. When she turned back around she caught a second of Ashley staring at her. He quickly ducked his head and focused on peeling the foil from the first bottle.

  “Thanks,” Penelope said after he got the first one done. “Let’s leave the second until we see how this one goes down. Bathroom’s right through there.” She nodded toward the hallway and watched him go.

  Penelope hooked six flutes upside down in her fingers and went back to the dining room.

  Chapter 16

  After Max had helped Penelope clean up after dinner and then joined his friend in the library to either talk or watch football, Penelope slid up on one of the stools and swiped open her iPad. Randall, Sybil, Arlena, and Sam were still in the dining room, lingering over pie and coffee. The kids were in the library too, sitting on bean bag chairs Sybil had brought for them and playing video games on their iPads.

  A thought came to her and she Googled the name Richard Sotheby, adding the words “Manhattan” and “murder.” One result came up, a short piece in the New York Times. She read through it quickly.

  “What are you doing in here by yourself, Penny?” Joey called from the doorway. “Wanna come watch some football?”

  “I’ll be there in a little bit,” Penelope said with a smile. “Just having a quiet moment, decompressing after dinner service.” She picked up the stemless wine glass in front of her and took a sip of red. Joey came over and hugged her from behind, glancing at the tablet on the counter. “What are you reading?”

  “It’s an article about Mrs. Sotheby’s husband. He was shot and killed back in the seventies, when they were first married.”

  “Yeah, I remember her saying something about that once,” Joey said. He sat down next to Penelope and picked up the iPad. “They never caught the guy who did it, if I remember correctly.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Penelope said. “I checked in on her yesterday, brought her some tea when I was in the city.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “Good,” Penelope said. “They are happy.”

  “Hey,” Joey said. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Penelope said. “It’s just, I’m not going to see my folks for the holidays this year. I think it’s making me a little sad.”

  “You want to go visit them soon? I’ll take a look at some flights.”

  “Maybe in the spring,” Penelope said. “They’re taking a cruise over Christmas.”

  Joey rubbed her shoulder and she put her head in her hand.

  “That’s something about Arlena and Sam, huh?” Joey asked.

  “Sure is. I had no idea.”

  “It’s good timing, you ask me,” Joey said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch, the familiar feel of his rough finger on her cheek.

  “Why’s that?” Penelope asked.

  “Well, when we find the perfect house, you know, it won’t be as hard for you to move,” Joey said. “They’re going to be all into each other, starting a family probably.”

  “Yeah,” Penelope whispered. She bit the inside of her cheek. “I didn’t say it was going to be hard.”

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” Joey asked. “You upset you’re the only girl at the table who didn’t get a ring at Thanksgiving?”

  Penelope laughed quietly. “No,” she said, “it’s not that at all. I’m happy with you and me, us, how we are. Totally. It’s just…I don’t know.”

  “What? You know you can tell me,” Joey said, brushing her cheek again.

  “Change is hard,” Penelope said. “I know it has to happen, but I think of Arlena as family, and this is my home. I haven’t even told her yet about us thinking of moving in together.”

  “You haven’t mentioned it?” Joey asked.

  “I don’t know, it hasn’t ever seemed like the right time,” Penelope said, avoiding his gaze.

  “Are you sure you still want to move in with me?” Joey asked.

  Penelope hesitated. “I think so. Yes.”

  “You sound like you’re having second thoughts,” Joey said, deflating.

  Penelope grabbed his hand and held it tight. “I’m not having second thoughts about us, Joey. I just get a little panicky thinking about the future and the uncertainty ahead.”

  “You can always count on me, Penny,” Joey said. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I don’t think anyone goes into a marriage or takes big steps in a relationship thinking things aren’t going to go well. And yet people split up every day.”

  “If you want to take more time to think about it…” Joey said half-heartedly.

  “No,” Penelope said with another squeeze of his hand. “I believe in us.”

  “Well, like I said, no time like the present, then, to let Arlena know,” Joey said. “The metaphorical present, I mean. Not right now.”

  “But what if me moving out changes everything between me and Arlena? What if we drift apart?”

  “Aw come on,” Joey said, pulling her into a hug. “You guys are always going to be close. You’re best friends. Everything that’s happening is good. Growing up and leaving the nest will be rough, but I’ll be there to help you.”

  Penelope laughed. “Don’t tease me,” she said. “My parents moved away when I was in culinary school, sold the house I grew up in. I felt like I was all on my own and I wasn’t really ready for it.”

  Joey tipped her chin up with his finger and looked her in the eyes. “You’re not going to be alone, or feel that way ever again. Trust me, Penny Blue.”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips and she b
rushed her worries to the side, if only for a moment.

  Chapter 17

  Joey was up with Penelope before dawn. They crept down the steps and Penelope kissed him goodbye at the kitchen door. Randall, his fiancée and his soon-to-be young stepchildren had gone home after the football game, and Max and his friend Ashley had headed back to Manhattan a little bit after them. Joey had stayed with her, hugging her until she drifted off to sleep.

  “Have a good day,” Joey said. “Be careful in the city today, okay? Keep your eyes open.”

  “Of course,” Penelope said with a smile. “I’ll be careful. You too.”

  After he’d gone, Penelope made a cup of coffee and scanned the news on her iPad. After a quick search she opened an updated article about Elspeth’s murder. Penelope blew at the steam rising from her coffee as she enlarged a group of thumbnail photos. One was of Elspeth, probably her professional headshot, all smiles with a tumble of red hair falling around her shoulders. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright green, the color of an Irish field.

  The next photo was of an older couple, the caption beneath identifying them as Gerald and Florence Connor, Elspeth’s parents. The article said they had arrived in New York from Seattle the previous afternoon. Florence wore large black sunglasses that obscured most of her face. Penelope drew her eyes to the woman’s tense jaw and her mouth, which was slightly open and spoke of the pain and worry the woman must be feeling. Elspeth’s father was a large, round man with a shiny bald head and a scarf tied tightly around his neck. Unlike his wife, Gerald Connor’s face conveyed anger. Penelope stared at him a for a few moments. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t place it immediately, like an old movie star from the forties.

  The article went on to say they’d come to assist the police in finding out who had killed their daughter, a young dancer with lots of promise who had landed one of the best jobs in her field: a spot with the Big Apple Dancers.

  Penelope took a sip of her coffee and slid her finger across the screen, opening up the entertainment section. There was another article that mentioned Elspeth, but this one focused more on the history of the theater itself and the upcoming Christmas Extravaganza. The theater had changed hands several times through the years and almost gone bankrupt more than once before being saved by the current group of owners, collectively known as the Beckwith Group. And now Randall had injected a bit of money as well, which when Armand had talked about it, sounded like it was needed to keep them afloat once more.

  “You’re up early,” Arlena said in a low voice as she entered the kitchen.

  “I could say the same about you,” Penelope said. “How does your first morning as an engaged woman feel?”

  Arlena smiled sleepily, her hand drifting up slowly to admire her ring once again. “Wonderful.”

  She shuffled to the counter and pulled down a mug to make her morning tea.

  “I’m so happy for you guys,” Penelope said.

  “I know you are,” Arlena said. She set her mug of hot water on the island and hugged Penelope before taking the seat next to her.

  “Can you believe Daddy?” Arlena said with a laugh.

  “Yeah,” Penelope laughed. “He’s a romantic.”

  “We talked at the table last night,” Arlena said, rolling her eyes. “We agreed me and Sam will make our engagement announcement first, and then Daddy and Sybil can do their thing.” She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “This is my one and only marriage. This will be his fifth, Sybil’s second.”

  “So, you get to go first? That’s fair,” Penelope asked.

  “I don’t care who goes first, I just want his full attention for my wedding. I want him to walk me down the aisle. I didn’t get to have my dad with me growing up, but I definitely want him with me now.”

  “How about your mom?” Penelope asked. “Will things be awkward with them?”

  “I don’t think so,” Arlena said. “She moved on a long time ago. She loves living out in the country in her cabin, painting, hanging out with her friends. She’s got a boyfriend now too, for like ten years now.”

  “Why doesn’t she ever come down during the holidays?” Penelope asked, then paused, wondering if she’d overstepped.

  “Mom…let’s just say, she’s not welcome in the US,” Arlena said. “She was quite the activist back in the day, she might have a record. I’m not sure of all the details, but there are outstanding charges against her and a few others, some kind of protest where they tied themselves to trees, and when the police came to break it up, an officer was killed. Not by any of the protestors, he fell from a tall tree, but they were all charged in the death.”

  “Oh wow,” Penelope said. “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah,” Arlena said. “She’s much more comfortable in Canada. I should try to get up there again soon to see her.”

  Penelope got up to refresh her coffee and Arlena picked up her iPad.

  “I guess we have to get back into work mode here soon,” Arlena said. “You still up for seeing the show tonight, help me make some notes?”

  “Yes,” Penelope said as she fiddled with the coffee machine. “I’m up for it. I also need to get a sense from you what we’ll need meal wise. I’ve never catered a documentary before, so I’m learning on this one.”

  Arlena flipped through a few articles on the news site Penelope had been reading as she spoke.

  “There will be twenty of us on site with camera, sound, and lighting people,” Arlena said. “And then we have an office across the street for the editing suite. Daddy said last night we should preview dailies each night, so we know what we’ve got, and can reshoot any footage we may have missed, or didn’t come out well the next day.”

  “I guess that’s better than waiting until the end and realizing you didn’t get something on film,” Penelope said, watching her mug fill.

  “Right. Because once it’s over, it’s over…” Arlena trailed off. “What the…?”

  “What is it?” Penelope asked.

  “Entertainment page,” Arlena said, her voice picking up speed. “A double engagement for the Madison acting clan. Arlena and Randall Madison announce their impending nuptials on the same day. The family that acts together weds together…” Arlena balled her hand into a fist.

  “How do they have that?” Penelope asked.

  Arlena banged her fist on the counter. “Damn! This is exactly what I meant. The story is already about both of us, all four of us.”

  “But how do they know already?” Penelope asked again.

  Arlena blew out a sigh. “It has to be that Ashley guy. Max’s friend. He probably got paid to give them the scoop.”

  Penelope came back around and read through the blurb. “The time stamp on the blog entry is last night,” she murmured.

  “That little creep,” Arlena seethed.

  “So, what now?” Penelope asked. “Send a correction, or ask them to take it down?”

  “No,” Arlena said, shaking her head. “Sometimes that brings more attention to something than it ever would’ve gotten otherwise.”

  “Hey babe,” Sam said groggily from the hallway. He shuffled into the kitchen and kissed her on the head. “Morning, Pen.”

  Penelope smiled and gave him a concerned glance then drew her eyes back to the iPad.

  “What’s up?” he asked, looking at the article. “Hey! The news is out already?”

  “No,” Arlena said tightly. “Not the way I want it to be.”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Sam said, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m ready for the world to know I’m marrying the perfect woman.”

  Arlena blushed and smiled. “I do too, babe. I just want to control our story,” Arlena said.

  “I can call my publicist,” Sam said, letting her go and heading over to the coffee maker. “They can send out a release, word it how you want.”

 
Arlena sighed. “You mean the publicity department at the movie studio?”

  “Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “That’s their job.”

  “For your movies,” Arlena said. “I think we need a personal publicist. Here on the east coast.”

  “Okay,” Sam said over his shoulder. “Whatever you want to do.”

  Arlena crossed her arms and sat back against the stool.

  “I’m going to get cleaned up,” Penelope said, picking up her mug and heading toward the hallway. “Can we meet in an hour about the production? I want to get my vendors lined up for the first day of filming.”

  “Saturday, right,” Arlena said distractedly. “I need to make a list. Call Daddy about the Big Apple documentary, get myself organized to begin work on this project, hire a publicist and a wedding planner and…”

  Penelope paused, waiting for her to finish.

  “…kill my brother.”

  Chapter 18

  Randall sat at the dining room table a few hours later. Penelope set a plate of cheese and fruit in the center of the table and tall glasses of lemon water at the three spots.

  “Thanks, Pen,” Randall said. He lightly grasped her wrist in his strong hand and held her in place for another moment. “Arlena is going to be calling on you with the wedding. I want you to know we really appreciate you helping out on this project.”

  Penelope smiled and leaned down to hug him. “I know you do. And I wouldn’t dream of not helping.”

  “Okay, that’s done,” Arlena said as she stepped into the dining room from the hall, ending a call and setting her phone on the table. “I have three wedding planners lined up to give presentations.”

  “Presentations?” Randall asked.

  “You know,” Arlena said quickly, “they’re going to pitch me on their best ideas for a Madison-Cavanaugh wedding.”

  Randall chuckled. “That’s great, sweetheart.”

  “Daddy,” Arlena said reproachfully. “This is how it’s done.”