Boston Scream Murder

by Ginger Bolton

  I put an innocent expression on my face. “I thought he rode a motorcycle.”

  “He has a truck, too, for winter and whenever he wants to carry something big. Like my stuff, which is probably all rusty and dirty from being in the back of his pickup truck.”

  I bent and took a better look at the coat that had been on top of the clamshell bowl. The sun had set only minutes ago, and I thought I saw a thumbnail-sized chip of peeled-off rusty paint. It was dark gray. I commented, “And with flecks of paint, too, unless his truck isn’t gray.”

  “It was gray before it got so rusty.”

  Had Derek driven to Rich’s cottage the night before when I was fastening my kayak on the car? What had he been doing there—looking for Terri with plans to harm her? Looking for something valuable to steal?

  Terri gazed at the clamshell bowl in her hands. “I don’t know how Derek got hold of this.”

  I thought I did. Derek could have broken into Rich’s cottage and stolen the bowl when he stole the skillet.

  But I wouldn’t have been surprised if Terri was lying. She could have helped Derek break into Rich’s cottage and take the bowl and the skillet. She could have left the bowl at Derek’s place or in the back of his truck.

  She could have taken the bowl after she and Rich signed the wills, but if she had, how had Derek ended up with it?

  Maybe she had staged the entire dumped-my-things drama, but I wasn’t sure why she would have. For sympathy? Had she been expecting someone else to come along when we did? Maybe she’d wanted to impress Hank with a tale of woe.

  However, I held my tongue and didn’t dare exchange another glance with Nina. As far as we knew, Terri had no idea that we’d ever seen the bowl or its twin before.

  “That bowl is beautiful.” Nina sounded choked up. “Want me to carry it? I’ll be careful.”

  “Sure,” Terri answered. “I’ll just take this basket inside.”

  She started toward the door. Nina turned the bowl over and studied its underside in the fading sunset. “It’s a Cindy Westhill. Number one out of ten.”

  I gave Nina a little nod to show that I understood. It was definitely the bowl we’d admired inside Rich’s cottage.

  Terri didn’t turn around. “What does that mean?”

  Following her to the door, Nina answered, “Cindy Westhill is a famous potter. She made only ten like that, and that one was the first.”

  Her basket on one hip, Terri opened the storm door. “Is it worth a lot?”

  Nina answered. “Yes. People collect Cindy Westhill pottery, and it’s in museums like MoMA, the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.”

  Terri pushed the inner door open with her rear end. “Oh.” She wailed, “And Rich meant for me to have it!”

  Carrying a full laundry basket on one hip, I grabbed the storm door to keep it from bumping into Nina and the bowl that my mother-in-law had crafted twenty or so years before.

  Terri emptied her basket on the avocado-green carpeting of her living and dining room combination. The box of donuts was on a shiny mahogany dining table beside a stack of mail. The flyer I’d placed between her storm door and the jamb the night before was on top. Nina carefully set the clamshell bowl beside the box of donuts.

  Brightly colored little fish darted in and out of a mermaid’s castle in an aquarium bubbling on a stand near the front window. Terri explained, “This was my grandmother’s place, fish tank and all. That’s why the furniture is so old-fashioned.”

  “It’s lovely,” I said. “My couch and a matching chair are from my grandmother. But I didn’t inherit any fish.” I wondered if Dep would enjoy watching an aquarium. Probably, and she’d also be frustrated because I would make it impossible for her to get at the fish.

  Terri hiccupped something between a laugh and a sob. “I like the fish, but I don’t care for the décor. Avocado, gold, and orange aren’t my favorite color combination.”

  Nina gave her a gentle smile. “I get that. You can change the carpeting and upholstery when you decide what colors you’d like. Or sell everything—not the fish—and start fresh.”

  “I suppose,” Terri said. “I’m taking this basket outside for more. You two don’t have to help.”

  Nina followed her, but I hung back for a better look at an envelope that Terri had dumped on the floor along with the rest of the things from her basket. The envelope was addressed to Derek, and the return address was the address of the house I was standing in, complete with Terri’s full name, Terri Estable. Both the address and the return address were written in feminine writing that, to my inexpert eye, matched Terri’s signature, complete with the T’s long, curlicued top, on the will Gartborg had shown me in Rich’s cottage. I aimed my phone at the envelope and snapped a picture.

  Halfway out the door, Nina turned around and stared at me.

  “I’m coming,” I said. I was almost certain that the writing on the envelope also matched the writing on the guest list that Cat had seen a woman—probably Terri—tape to a tablecloth in Rich’s birthday party tent.

  I joined the other two women outside and helped gather the last of Terri’s things from the lawn. Trying to sound like I was merely trying to make conversation, I told Terri that I’d seen Rich’s guest list at his party and wondered why there were fewer names on it than there were chairs for the guests. “And judging by the number of vehicles, there were fewer names than the number of people who showed up.”

  Obviously trying to suppress a grin, Nina turned her face away from Terri.

  Terri threw a half-empty shampoo bottle into the basket nearest her. “I have no idea. Rich made all the preparations. He must have left people off his list.” She studied my face. I hoped I wasn’t showing my skepticism.

  As if feeling she had to cover for my unsubtle sleuthing, Nina faced Terri again and suggested, “If you’re looking for a new color scheme for your living room, you could use the colors in your Cindy Westhill clamshell bowl as an inspiration.”

  I turned a laugh into an almost believable cough. Nina was apparently determined that someone’s interior decorating should be based on that bowl.

  Nina shot me a quelling frown. “And display the bowl prominently. Unless you sell it.”

  Terri tossed a pair of pink cowboy boots into the basket. “I’m keeping it forever to remind me of Rich. Anyway, Rich left me his house. I’ll probably sell this place and move there.”

  I rested my hands against my cheeks, reminding myself of our Boston scream donuts. “Rich’s house looks big for one person.”

  “It wasn’t too big for Rich. Besides, it hasn’t been too big for me, though I’ve only been staying in part of it, and only at night.”

  I must have succeeded in looking perplexed. She explained, “I’ve been barricading myself into a cozy guest room overlooking the lake on the top floor. It’s, like, the second floor in front, but the third floor in back.” Had Terri looked out last night, seen me, and snuffed her light to get a better look at the person kayaking near Rich’s house?

  Nina carefully placed a bottle of cologne into a basket. “Why did you barricade yourself in?”

  Terri sniffled and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I was afraid of Derek and of what he might do to me.”

  Trying to sound as empathetic as I probably looked because of whiffs of the cologne making my eyes water, I asked. “What about his friends? The ones who came to a party and damaged Rich’s cottage?”

  “I suppose they might come back. They’re his high school buddies. They were mad about having to cut their cottage vacation short. They said they were going back to Gary. I don’t know if they did.”

  I wondered if they had returned to Lake Fleekom and murdered Rich, either because he enraged them by kicking them out or because they wanted to get Derek and Terri into trouble. I prompted, “You said you’ve been staying in Rich’s house at night. Only at night?”

  “Yeah.” The one-syllable answer was barely a breath.

  I added a bag
of cosmetics to a basket. “You poor thing. Being so scared must feel terrible. How did you hide from Derek in the daytime when you weren’t in Rich’s house?”

  Terri waved a hand toward the south. “There are stores down on Packers Road. Derek would never have looked for me parked behind the post office or sitting in a tearoom. He drives a furniture company truck. Most of his deliveries are to people’s houses, not to stores.”

  Although I thought I knew the answer, I asked, “Haven’t you been going to work?”

  “I didn’t dare. Derek was so mad that I was afraid he’d come into the bank and do something terrible.”

  Nina gazed around at neighboring houses, still bright in the sunset’s afterglow. “This has all been horrid for you. How did you work up enough courage to come back here this evening?”

  “I needed to feed the fish, and Derek usually goes out on Friday nights, so I figured it was safe. Good thing I did. If I hadn’t, my stuff might have been out here for a long time.” She wiped her nose with her hand again. “Or stolen.” She dropped earrings into a basket.

  Still trying to talk like a friend might, but feeling guilty for my deceit, I asked, “How did you get into Rich’s house?”

  Terri looked down at the sneakers on her feet. “Rich gave me remotes that open his gates, his garage doors, and his other doors, so all I had to do was push buttons, drive into the garage, shut the gates and the garage door, and let myself into the kitchen. I like that house. It’s big, but I’ll be able to go birding in my canoe anytime I want except when there’s ice, and maybe then, I can skate. And the next-door neighbor is nice. If I get lonely, I can go over and talk to him. Or if I’m scared. I haven’t figured out what to do. It’s all so sudden and . . . and horrible. I could sell Rich’s house, but keep this place and his cottage so I can spend weekends at the lake and go canoeing or skating. His cottage is insulated for winter and has a furnace.” She sniffled again and picked up the basket. “I can’t think. I can’t believe he’s gone, and that we’re not making these plans together.”

  After we removed her belongings from her front yard, we carried the baskets into the house and set them on the living room floor. Nina and I said we had to go.

  Terri asked, “Would you like to stay for tea and donuts?”

  I held my palms up toward her. “We didn’t bring donuts in case we stopped in. They’re in case someone else stops in.”

  “Okay, thanks, but I don’t know who that might be.”

  Nina added, “And you need to get out of here in case Derek comes back and sees that the stuff he dumped outside is gone. He’ll guess you’re home.”

  Concerned for Terri, I asked her, “Does Derek have a key to your place?”

  She stared at the aquarium. “I never gave him one, but . . . maybe I should have the locks changed before I stay here longer than a few minutes.” Sighing, she turned a pinched and hurting face toward us.

  “You definitely should,” Nina said.

  Chapter 22

  As soon as Nina and I locked ourselves into my car, I excused myself and called Brent’s personal number.

  “Hi, Em.” That man could pack a lot of warmth into two syllables. “Misty told me.”

  Thinking about the murder case, I was confused. Did Misty somehow know that I’d gone kayaking alone the night before or that Nina and I had been visiting Terri? “Told you what?”

  “About Samantha and Hooligan.” I could tell he was smiling.

  “Yes, it was quite a celebration. But that’s not why I called. Maybe you already know where Terri Estable is—”

  He interrupted. “No. Do you?”

  “She was in her town house a few minutes ago.”

  “Safe and well?”

  “Yes. I think she’s planning to leave there soon, though, and go stay at Rich’s tonight.”

  “Rich’s?” He sounded amazed.

  “His house.”

  I heard him blow air out between his lips.

  I added, “I should be home in about ten minutes. Do you have time for a quick dinner?”

  There was a pause as if he was trying to figure out how to rearrange his schedule. Beside me in the car, Nina was grinning and holding both thumbs up. I shot her a pretend glare.

  “Don’t wait for me,” Brent answered, “but I might call you after I talk to Ms. Estable. Thanks for telling me where she is. I’ll grab Kim and go over there now, but no matter what, I am coming to your party tomorrow night.”

  I hoped he could. If an investigation prevented him from joining the rest of us, it wouldn’t be the first time. I understood. Alec had also been dedicated. “Okay. See you then.” I disconnected.

  Nina teased, “If that’s the kind of conversation you always have with your detective, it’s no wonder you claim he’s not your detective.”

  I started the car. “You got it. That’s the kind of conversation we always have.”

  “Always?”

  “Usually.”

  “You’re usually helping him with investigations?”

  “Okay, sometimes. And I did invite him to dinner. You can’t pretend you didn’t hear that.”

  She laughed. “I got the impression that the police didn’t know that Terri was staying in Rich’s house.”

  “So did I. She said she was hiding from Derek. Maybe she was truly afraid of him, but not going to work and hiding in a parking lot and a tearoom could also mean that she was hiding from the police.”

  “Plus, if she was truly afraid of Derek, wouldn’t she have gone to the police instead of hiding from them?”

  “I would,” I said, “but I know and trust the Fallingbrook police, and the Gooseleg police, too. Maybe she doesn’t. But hiding in Rich’s house when it was still a crime scene is probably not a good way to avoid the police. It could have been an excellent way of getting them to notice her.”

  “Maybe she was hoping they would, but why?”

  I turned toward the part of Wisconsin Street where Nina’s loft was. “I don’t know. Maybe so she’d be forced to tell them her fears about Derek? Maybe she doesn’t want to believe he’s a danger to her, despite how he acted in Deputy Donut.”

  “I’m not sure any of that makes sense.”

  “Neither am I. Maybe it has something to do with Derek’s buddies who supposedly went home to Gary.”

  When I stopped in front of Klassy Kitchens, Nina said seriously, “Lock your doors tonight.”

  “I always do. See you in the morning!”

  Lights were on inside Klassy Kitchens, and Harry and Larry were polishing brushed nickel fixtures with apparently identical cloths. Nina waved at them. Even their huge smiles were identical. I wasn’t surprised that they liked her.

  I drove home, fed Dep, and took hamburger patties and homemade buns out of the freezer.

  Purring, Dep rubbed against my ankles. “Meow?”

  “Maybe he’s coming tonight. Meanwhile, let’s put up some more indoor decorations where you can’t reach them or take them down.” Dep scampered to the living room and sat in front of the door. “Even if he is coming,” I informed her, “it will be after he talks to Terri.” Dep stared at the door.

  Orange didn’t go well with the ruby, emerald, sapphire, and topaz hues of my living room, so I stuck to a mostly black color palette and strung up streamers, witches, cats, more spiders and their webs, and gray, goofy, loose-jointed skeletons that would dance in the slightest movement of air.

  Dep left the front door when she heard me opening packages in the kitchen, but when she discovered that I was only getting out chocolate bars and putting them into cute orange wicker baskets with jack-o’-lantern faces, she ran into the sunroom and stared at the window. She couldn’t see much besides her reflection, but I didn’t blame her for admiring that. “Pretty kitty,” I said. She stretched out a front leg and made certain that all of the fur on it was lying in the correct direction.

  I set the baskets of candy in the china cabinet in the dining room where I could easily find them th
e next evening when the doorbell began ringing, and where Dep wouldn’t be able to fish for chocolate bars and bat them all over shiny wood floors in the dining room and living room.

  Brent phoned about eight thirty. “Can I come over for a few minutes? I won’t stay long.”

  “Sure, and stay as long as you need to.” Blushing at what I’d said, which might have sounded like an invitation I didn’t mean to make, I disconnected.

  Brent arrived almost immediately. I opened the door, and he enveloped me in a bear hug that lifted me off the floor.

  Dep objected. “Meow!”

  Laughing, Brent set me down, carefully. I didn’t land on Dep. I was a little out of breath.

  Brent picked up Dep and rubbed noses with her. “Did you miss me, Dep?”

  Purr, purr . . .

  I asked Brent, “Have you eaten?”

  “No, but I didn’t come here to be fed. I have questions, I’m afraid, related to Rich Royalson’s murder.”

  I started toward the dining room. “It’s only cheeseburgers.”

  “Only? I don’t know when I last had a home-cooked meal. Probably here, about two weeks ago.”

  “It was cheeseburgers then, too. Come on back to the kitchen.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with cheeseburgers.” Carrying Dep, he followed me through the dining room and into my bright, warm kitchen. I poured potato chips into a bowl for both of us and added smoked paprika to sour cream for a dip. I cooked the hamburger patties and topped them with lovely aged Wisconsin cheddar. Brent was returning to work, so he asked for tomato juice instead of beer. He sat at one of the stools at my granite-topped counter.

  I poured tomato juice into a pebbly handblown glass goblet and gave it to him. “Did you talk to Terri?”

  “We did.”

  “Did she tell you where she’s been staying?” I put our cheeseburgers on chocolate-brown plates that Cindy had made and set them at our places at the counter.

  “In her car and a tearoom. But you said she told you she’d been staying at Rich’s house.” He tilted his head in question.