Greg perused the report. “Wow. He was planning to lay off some of the company’s veterans, including many in the artistic department.”
“William Deveaux and Rick Bennett are on here,” Connie said. “We met them on Thursday night at the Christmas party. I guess the rumors are true. Damian was indeed going to make one last-ditch effort to save the operation, but he was going to do it with only a skeleton crew.”
Connie scanned the other names on Damian’s termination list but didn’t recognize any of them. Noticing a program for “Christmas Carol” on top of the reception desk, Connie got an idea. She compared the names on the termination list to the cast and crew listed in the program.
“Dad, the only two names on this list of employees to be laid off who are also involved with ‘A Christmas Carol’ are William and Rick. None of these other people on the list were involved in the play, which means they wouldn’t have been backstage when Damian was poisoned.”
William and Rick just moved onto Connie’s list of suspects.
“We’ve been in here a long time,” Greg said. “We should quit while we’re ahead and get out of here.”
Connie snapped a picture of the report for future reference, then returned it to where she found it and turned off the desk lamp in Damian’s office. Just as they were about to leave, the sound of two approaching voices came from outside the front door.
“Quick, the boardroom,” Connie whispered, grabbing her father’s arm and pulling him into the adjoining room. Then she pointed to her father’s phone. “Turn off your flashlight.” She closed the door while he turned off the light emanating from his phone, and they sat on the floor opposite the door, hidden behind by the table. “They’ll never find us here,” Connie whispered.
“I hope you’re right,” Greg said. “Nobody will want to hire an accountant with a criminal record.”
The front door opened and Rick’s voice carried through the office suite. “I could have sworn I saw a light on when we drove by.”
Great. Connie would never be able to explain their presence in the boardroom to Rick. And if it did turn out that Rick was the killer, he would know she was investigating. They could not get caught.
“What’s the big deal about a light being on? The police were in here Friday night searching the offices. They could have left it on. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Connie recognized the voice as belonging to Rick’s wife, Priscilla.
“Well, I don’t see a light on,” Rick said. “And there are no cars in the parking lot. It must have been my imagination. Still, I think I’ll look around just to make sure everything is okay.”
The doorknob of the door leading into the board room began to turn. Connie sat breathless and curled up her body as small as she could, as if that would make her less visible.
“Don’t bother,” Priscilla said. “There’s nobody in here. Let’s just get out of here. This place is creepy at night.”
“Okay, fine,” Rick said in a frustrated tone. “Let’s go.”
Connie let out a quiet sigh of relief and within a couple of minutes, she heard the front door close behind Rick and Priscilla and a car driving away.
“That was close,” Connie said.
“The woman was right,” Greg said. “This place is creepy at night. Let’s go.”
When they returned home, Jo and Gianna were anxiously waiting up to hear what happened while Gary apparently opted for a good night’s sleep. Connie had been half-tempted to call them to tell them that they were in jail as a practical joke, but she decided against it, given that was too close to reality.
“I’m going to bed,” Greg said. “Connie can fill you in. But please don’t ever ask me to do that again.”
Connie kissed her Dad goodnight and thanked him, but she didn’t make any promises.
“I have to get to bed,” Connie said, after she caught Jo and Gianna up to speed. “It’s past midnight, and I have an early morning.”
Chapter 8
Connie’s alarm went off on Sunday morning a minute after her head hit the pillow. Or at least it felt that way. In reality, she probably got about five hours sleep but it was still a far cry from her preferred eight. She dragged herself out of bed at 6:00 so she could attend the 7:00 Mass and open the shop on time. Her family had opted for a later Mass and were still sleeping when she left.
She arrived at Our Lady, Star of the Sea Church without a minute to spare and quickly scanned the church to find a seat. The size of the congregation was slowly but steadily increasing each week as the chilling temperatures up north pushed the snowbirds down toward warmer weather. She was pleasantly surprised to see Zach amidst the crowd seated a few pews from the back. He usually went to a later Mass since he and Josh normally had weekends off, so Connie figured that they must be working overtime because of the murder investigation.
When Zach spotted Connie, he smiled warmly and slid further into the pew so Connie could join him.
After Mass, Zach invited Connie for a walk around the beautiful grounds of the church, since they each had some spare time before they were due at work. They strolled across a quaint wooden bridge into a small memorial garden enclosed with lush tropical vegetation and sat next to one another on a granite bench. In the center was a plaque engraved with the names of deceased priests who had served in the parish.
“How’s the investigation coming along?” Connie asked
“Unfortunately, by now you know how these things go. There are a lot of people to talk to and leads to follow up on. Josh and I worked all day yesterday to get some of the legwork done. Sergeant Donovan assigned me as the lead investigator, so I’ll be at it all day today, as well.”
“Have they determined the cause of Damian’s death yet?”
Zach’s gaze drifted toward the blue skies beyond the garden, then back at Connie. “It turns out your guess was on target. We discovered a lethal dose of cyanide in Damian’s bottle of antacid,” Zach said. “Damian and his family were in my prayers all during Mass.”
Connie let out a deep breath. “So, he was definitely murdered.” Even though it looked unlikely, Connie had still been holding on to a shred of hope that Damian’s death had been the result of a natural cause. But now she knew that somebody had actually killed her aunt’s friend, and the killer could have been someone that Concetta knew well. Tears stung at the back of Connie’s eyes. She had come face to face with murder in the past, but it never got easier.
“Are you okay?” Zach asked.
Connie nodded. “It’s just such a waste. The killer obviously knew Damian well enough to know his pre-performance routine. And that person thought that there was no other solution to whatever problem he or she had with Damian than to take his life.”
“It seems that way. We are looking at everyone who had backstage access at any point that night.”
Connie thought of Dottie and was wondering if she should mention what she learned. But she didn’t have to wonder for long. Zach seemed to read her thoughts.
“What is it?” he asked. “Did you remember something?”
“It may not be important, but I met an usher named Dottie McKenzie on Friday night, when the play was supposed to open. She was wearing my candy cane earrings, but the following night, when we went back to see the play, she wasn’t wearing them. It could be nothing, but when I asked her about it, she got all uncomfortable. And from what I hear, it wasn’t unusual for her to go backstage to try to talk to Damian. There were even complaints against her.”
“I knew she was backstage, but thanks for letting me know about the earrings. Dottie is on my list of people to follow up with.” Then he flashed her a playful smile. “But I didn’t invite you to go for a walk to talk about the case, you know.”
“I guess you probably didn’t. Did you have any particular topic in mind, or shall I choose one at random?” she asked, teasing him. She had the feeling it was the former.
“I’d rather talk about that second date that hasn’t happened yet.”
“That sounds like an interesting topic.”
“I know it’s a busy season, especially with your family being in town and your fundraiser, but it seems like we’re both always busy with something. I was hoping you might be able to find some time for that date in the next couple of weeks.”
So, this second date was really going to happen. And soon. Connie couldn’t have been happier. “I think I can find an evening to break away. Grace and Abby have both turned out to be very capable employees, so I’ve finally been able to take some time off.”
“Would next Sunday night work? I’ve been wanting to check out the snow in Naples.”
Connie gave him a puzzled look. “The snow?”
Zach laughed. “Artificial snow. Every evening on Third Street South this time of year they pipe in artificial snow and the street becomes like a winter wonderland. It’s a little touristy, but I hear it’s fun. We could grab dinner nearby and then check it out.”
“That sounds great,” Connie said. “It will be nice to slow down for a few hours and enjoy the season.”
After Zach walked Connie back to her car, she made a quick stop home to pick up Ginger - partly to give the dog another respite from her exuberant playmates, but also because Connie missed her favorite chestnut-and-white-furred sidekick. Then she headed to the shop.
Sunday morning was Connie’s favorite time downtown. Peace and quiet rested upon the streets since many people were at church or home enjoying a leisurely morning. She had just enough time for a stroll with Ginger through the downtown streets before opening the store and getting to work on more candy cane earrings.
As usual, Grace attended the 9:00 Mass and arrived like clockwork at little after 10:00, with two coffees in hand.
Connie’s eyes grew wide when Grace handed her one of the steaming cups. “Perfect timing. I had a late night and could use a jolt of caffeine.”
“I heard. Your father filled me in on your adventure last night. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall,” Grace said, laughing.
Grace’s laughter was contagious. “Let’s just say it was a father-daughter adventure I’ll never forget.”
After a slow but steady morning, business started to pick up. Connie was surprised when she saw William Deveaux among her customers, with a woman whom Connie assumed to be his wife.
“Is this Connie?” the woman asked, marching over to where Connie stood and shaking her hand. “I’m Judith, William’s wife.” She moved a strand of dark brown hair so that Connie could see she was wearing candy cane earrings. “I just love these earrings and am so inspired by the fundraiser you are doing for such a worthy cause.”
“We came for a stroll downtown, and when we spotted your shop, we just had to drop by,” William said. “My wife wanted to see your Fair Trade jewelry.”
Connie led them over to the Fair Trade section, then left Judith to shop.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Connie said to William, as Judith perused the jewelry.
He gave her a puzzled look.
“Damian?” Connie said. Could he really be that dense?
“Oh, yes, yes,” he said, changing his expression to appear sorrowful. “Poor Damian.”
It didn’t appear as though William was laboring under any grief. She wondered if his carelessness was related to Damian’s proposal to lay him off.
“The police are treating it as a homicide, since there were suspicious circumstances surrounding his death,” Connie said, probing for a reaction. “Being the executive director of the playhouse, Damian must have had some enemies. It’s never easy making tough decisions.”
“I certainly hope nothing shady like that happened at our little theatre,” he said. “It’s true that not everyone agreed with Damian’s vision for the future of the playhouse, but it’s hard to imagine that anyone would kill him over it.”
So, he did know something about Damian’s plan.
“Someone clearly didn’t want him around,” Connie said. “You must have spent a lot of time with him over the years, William. Do you have any idea who could have wanted to harm him?”
“You know, anything I could tell you would only be my own opinion, and I hate to gossip…” His voice rose and octave toward the end of the sentence.
As soon as William said the word “gossip,” Judith turned around. She put down the jewelry she was browsing and came over to join Connie and William.
“Yes, we hate to gossip,” she said, nodding solemnly. “What are we gossiping about?”
“Damian, dear. Connie was just asking if we knew who might want to harm him.”
“Oh, yes, Damian.” Judith shook her head back and forth. “We are just beside ourselves.”
“Well,” William said, “it’s hard to know what could drive someone to kill another person, but I can tell you that Rick is carrying a mountain of debt. He told me that if he got laid off, he would probably have to declare bankruptcy. That’s why I am considering a job offer I received from a playhouse in Sarasota. Quite honestly, the writing has been on the wall for some time now, so I’ve been putting out feelers. Besides, I’m not getting the parts that I’d like to be getting here in Sapphire Beach.”
If William had another job option, that would make it a lot less likely that he’d kill Damian to keep his job.
“But that’s nothing,” Judith said. “Did you tell Connie about Eloise?”
“No, dear, I haven’t gotten to that yet.”
“I understand that Damian and Eloise were old friends and acted together years ago,” Connie said. She also knew they were involved but wanted to hear what William knew.
“That’s true,” William said. “But there’s a lot more to it.” He looked around the store, but not seeing anyone within earshot, he leaned closer to Connie. “They had a pretty steamy relationship back in the day - a relationship that they picked back up about eight years ago.”
Connie studied their expressions. Clearly, she was supposed to put something together based on what he said. She took a stab at it. “How long ago did Eloise marry Stephen?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Oh, I see. So, they were having an affair.” Connie reflected for a moment.
“Did Eloise want Damian to leave his wife?”
William shook his head. “No. She regretted the affair and wanted to make things work with Stephen.”
“So why would she kill Damian?”
Then it hit Connie, and her jaw nearly fell to the ground.
“Wait a minute! Stevie is seven years old. Are you saying that Stevie is Damian’s son?”
Well, that certainly opened up some new possibilities. Maybe Sophie found out. Or, if Damian had threatened to expose their secret, perhaps Eloise killed him. Connie remembered that Stephen had been out of town all week and wasn’t in the theatre the night Damian was killed, so it couldn’t have been him.
“How many people know this?”
“It’s hard to keep a secret in the theatre world. I’d say pretty much everyone except Stevie, Stephen, and Sophie.” William let out a devious chuckle. “Damian was furious that Eloise named him Stevie, after her husband. But there was nothing he could do, because he didn’t want Sophie finding out about the affair.”
“But rumor had it,” Judith said, “that Damian was preparing to leave Sophie anyway and wanted Eloise to tell Stephen the truth. And he wanted Stevie to know he was his father.”
“That would have been traumatic for poor Stevie,” Connie said. “I can see why Eloise would have been against it. Not to mention that it would likely have meant the end of her marriage.” Connie thought for a moment. “How determined was Damian to tell Stevie?”
“They were seen several times in a heated discussion,” William said. “So, I’m guessing it was becoming an issue.”
“Who knows how far Eloise would go to protect her marriage and the well-being of her little boy,” Judith said. “If you ask me, Eloise had the most to gain by his death.”
She did make a valid point.
Chapter 9
As Sunday afternoon wore on, the downtown streets of Sapphire Beach swelled with holiday shoppers. With only nine shopping days until Christmas Eve, people seemed to be taking advantage of the sunny 76-degree day to wander in and out of shops. And since Connie’s jewelry could easily fit into a suitcase, it made a great gift for people who were travelling for the holidays.
The candy cane earrings were selling well, too. The window display that Connie created was drawing customers in to ask about the fundraiser. In addition to purchasing a pair of earrings, they often also chose to buy Fair Trade pieces in the spirit of the holidays. Connie always included a biography of the artisan for the recipient of the gift and asked her customers to spread the word to friends - a request that was usually received with enthusiasm.
Connie had to smile as it occurred to her that the fundraiser was increasing business. The old adage, “In giving we receive” seemed to be holding true. Although it hadn’t been Connie’s intent, due to the extra traffic because of the fundraiser, Connie would likely make back all the money she had personally invested in supplies for the candy cane earrings. However, there was still a lot of work ahead and no guarantee that they would be able to meet their goal of $4,000 in the next nine days.
Just as Grace was about to leave for the afternoon, several students from Connie’s Thursday evening jewelry-making class surprised her by coming to make earrings. Elyse brought Emma, who was becoming quite the jewelry maker, and her Great Aunt Gertrude. Ruby, the owner of the souvenir shop next door, had coverage in her own store, so she came, as well. And Abby arrived early for her shift so she could bang out some extra pairs of earrings.
“You ladies are a sight for sore eyes,” Connie said. “I was beginning to worry that we’d never finish the earrings.”
“Abby texted us to let us know there were still a lot more left to be made if we are to meet our goal, so here we are,” Ruby said. She pointed to a pink and white pastry box that Abby was carrying. “And she even brought cookies.”
Connie was thrilled that everyone was rallying around the fundraising project. “Remind me to make you Employee of the Month,” she said to Abby.
Candy Canes and Cadavers Page 6
