Murder in Connemara

by Carlene O'Connor

  It was a quarter to one in the afternoon when they all huddled around the jeweler. He clasped his hands. “I’m so thrilled. I wondered what I was to do if no one came in to claim it.” He handed Mimi a black velvet box. She lifted the lid with trembling hands. A diamond watch sparkled from the box. Mimi gasped.

  “It’s too dear.”

  “It’s already paid for,” the jeweler said, not denying its value. “I’ve got papers to go with it.” He hesitated. “And this.” He handed her another note. It was typed.

  I can’t make up for lost time, so please accept this token instead

  Amends, Veronica

  Tara tried not to laugh. She couldn’t bring herself to say I’m sorry, so she’d simply said amends.

  “I forgive you, Veronica O’Farrell,” Mimi said, wiping away tears as she held the box and note.

  “This is all very confusing,” Bartley said.

  Tara edged forward. “What is it?”

  “I knew about the watch. But she planned on handing it to Mimi. In your shop.”

  “Maybe she changed her mind when I said she couldn’t use the shop.”

  “In a matter of hours? Impossible. Even if she had the idea, she didn’t have the time to arrange it.”

  “It just means she didn’t tell you about it,” Elaine said.

  “Impossible.”

  “You didn’t know about the book either.”

  Bartley folded his arms and frowned.

  “When did Veronica purchase this?” Elaine stepped up to the jeweler, the intensity obvious in her voice.

  “It was all done online,” the jeweler said. “A month ago.”

  “You never actually spoke with her?”

  “I did not.”

  “Did she pay by credit card?”

  “I won’t be having this discussion unless the guards come to me with an order.” He hesitated. “But I assure you it was all in order.”

  “Did she tell you that one of us would be coming in to pick it up?”

  He shook his head. “No. She was supposed to pick it up.”

  Mimi was still staring at the watch. “I’ve never owned anything so lovely.”

  “Wait,” Cassidy said. “How do we know she didn’t booby-trap it? Shouldn’t we make sure it’s not ticking or the like?”

  Mimi huffed. “Of course it’s ticking, you eejit—it’s a watch!”

  Cassidy shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”

  Sheila jumped up and down and grabbed John’s hand. “I wonder what’s in store for the rest of us.”

  “We need to stop this nonsense and call the guards,” Bartley said. “This is not how it was meant to go down.”

  “But she did buy Mimi the watch?” Elaine asked.

  Bartley sighed. Then nodded. “Yes. I know what each guest is to receive. That part is legitimate.”

  “Then what does it matter?” Elaine wasn’t getting it. But Tara was.

  “The killer could be manipulating this process. Trying to lure us into unsafe territory.”

  “Not to mention it’s unseemly,” Bartley said. “Going around collecting your gifts when the poor woman was murdered by one of you.”

  “Please,” the clerk said. “Would you mind discussing this outside?”

  The group obliged, and were soon standing on the footpath. The sun was peeking through the clouds on one side of the street, and it was raining on the other.

  “We need to collect all the prizes,” Iona said. “But we should let a neutral party hold on to them until we know who the killer is.”

  “We could give them to charity,” Eddie said.

  “Charity!” The shriek came from Sheila. “After what she put us through? Do what you want, but don’t try to force it on the rest of us.”

  “I never got anything on my anniversaries,” Mimi said, caressing her wrist. “I worked for dat woman for twenty-plus years. I’d say I’m the charity, alright, and I’ve earned this watch.”

  “That’s right,” John said, sticking out his chest. “We’re taking ours as well, like.”

  “What if she kidnapped a child for ye? Will ye be taking dat?” Eddie said.

  Sheila gasped, and Cassidy rolled her eyes and glared at Mimi as she held the watch up to catch the light. “If you’re the killer, I hope you’re ashamed of yourself right now,” Cassidy said.

  “Not a bit,” Mimi said. She flashed a grin.

  “You’re all fools,” Bartley said. “I’m calling the guards.”

  “They can’t stop us,” Iona said. “What law are we breaking?”

  “Who can we trust to keep the gifts?” Elaine’s voice sounded strained and worried.

  Slowly, gazes shifted to Tara. “We do have a safe in the mill,” she said. “And the building is under security monitoring.”

  What was she doing? No wonder Danny was browned off with her. Bartley was the one talking sense. Someone was manipulating Veronica’s amends. What was it about her that couldn’t let go?

  “Let’s all agree,” Elaine said. “Tara will keep the gifts we find, in the safe until the killer is caught.”

  Tell them no. Tell them you’re done.

  Mimi held the watch to her chest as if whoever wanted it was going to have to take it by force.

  “What if the killer is never caught?” Cassidy said. The thought seemed to excite her.

  “Then we’ll claim our possessions when the guards tell us we’re free to go,” Elaine said.

  Mimi glanced at Tara. “Do you promise you’ll keep our items safe?”

  No. Tell her no. “Of course,” Tara said as Elaine peeled the diamond watch from Mimi’s clutches. “Of course I’ll keep them safe.” She took a deep breath. “But Bartley is right. We should let the guards accompany us to the rest of the locations. It isn’t safe.”

  They simply stared at her. She sighed. They weren’t children. Tara fell back as the rest of the guests began to stroll up the street, conferring with each other about their next move. Tara would warn the guards what they were up to; that’s all she could do. She would tell them about the writing in Cassidy’s book. How it didn’t seem to match Veronica’s handwriting, and she would tell them about Bartley’s suspicion that someone knew Veronica’s amends plans but was manipulating them to fit the locations in the book. Luring the guests to different locations. To what end? Were they truly dealing with a psychopath? Mimi had her diamond watch. She wasn’t dead. The clerk basically confirmed that it was Veronica who paid for the watch, and Bartley confirmed that he knew Mimi was getting the watch. How was that a diabolical plan? What did the location matter?

  Maybe Tara had the wrong end of the stick. Maybe the killer murdered Veronica because she’d changed her mind about the amends. Something set her off that Friday evening. She screamed she was going to expose them all. She changed her amends notes to nasty barbs. Did she also let it slip that they were no longer going to get their prizes? Maybe this was some kind of warped Peter Pan game the killer was playing. A shiver ran up her spine. The killer was someone who would have been furious when they found out Veronica had changed her mind and was taking it all back. Someone who would kill to keep his or her gift. Who had the most valuable amends?

  Sheila and John. A flat. That recommendation letter. A child. It hardly seemed plausible that Mimi would have murdered Veronica over a diamond watch. Yet people had killed for less. Cassidy definitely wouldn’t have killed over rehab, if that’s truly what Veronica left her.

  If Tara’s theory was right, then the guests did have to collect their amends. It was the only way to see if anyone else had one they would kill to keep . . . If not—then Tara’s money was on Sheila and John.

  Andy said he’d told Veronica about the book. She believed him. But he was making the leap that it was Veronica who then bought the book. What if someone else had been listening? Andy wasn’t the only one with big ears. Had someone else heard his story about the book? Bartley? Mimi? Eddie? Someone who was always around? If it was Bartley, he was doing a good
job pretending to warn them off. But Tara knew despite the warnings that the guests would be determined to seek out their winnings regardless of the danger. It was like winning the lottery and not collecting the money. Whatever was going on here, Tara was in way over her head. The guards would have to handle it from there. If someone else got killed chasing this game-playing killer, and Tara willingly participated in leading them into danger, she’d never forgive herself. That’s it. She was done. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t have better things to do. She had the grandest of openings to attend.

  Chapter 25

  The day had finally come, the official grand opening of Renewals. Tara smoothed down her little black dress and practiced walking across the room. It had been so long since she’d worn high heels. She might be in for pain by the end of the evening, but she welcomed it. She touched her emerald earrings that had belonged to her mam, rubbing them for good luck. She’d gone to the hair salon for a wash and style, and now her black hair was straightened and shining. Extra mascara made her blue eyes pop. This was her night and her mood was soaring. This is what she needed to break away from the group. Just having Mimi’s diamond watch in the safe back at the mill was like an irritant she couldn’t soothe. This is where she belonged, in her shop, opening the doors for the first time, welcoming in the city. Céad míle fáilte—a hundred thousand welcomes, indeed.

  Colorful bouquets adorned countertops; white lights had been set up on the patio, sparkling into the fountain and setting the Buddha statues next to it aglow; and bottles of champagne were lined up and ready to be popped. In the center of the room sat the largest bouquet Tara had ever seen. It was waiting at the door to her shop when she arrived with a note:

  Best of luck with your grand opening. Veronica would have been thrilled.

  Who sent them? Another mystery. One Tara didn’t have time to figure out. At seven on the dot the grandfather clock in the corner (sourced from a Scottish castle) chimed, and Tara officially opened the doors to Renewals. Uncle Johnny swept in with Rose on his arm. Next came a grinning Breanna with Savage tucked into her arm.

  “Thrilled to see you both,” Tara said as she hugged her friend, careful not to suffocate Savage.

  “I’m getting attached,” Breanna admitted. “The station is in love with her. I’ve been sneaking her in in a wee purse.”

  “I’d say we have ourselves a new dog.” Tara was perfectly happy sharing custody, and Savage did look content in Breanna’s arms. Tara hoped Nancy Halligan was smiling down on them. She knew her mam was, and wee Thomas too. She found comfort in imagining her loved ones around her. A steady flow of people entered the shop, dressed up, smiling, chatting, partaking of champagne and appetizers, and exclaiming over Tara’s careful selection of architectural wares. Since this was a celebration, Tara was not going to entertain any orders this evening; instead, she’d let people salivate over the items they wished to buy.

  They were an hour into the celebrations when Veronica’s group strolled in. Please, no. What on earth were they doing there? To their credit, they had all dressed up. It was so jarring to see them in dresses and suits, for a second Tara couldn’t speak and she simply stared at them.

  “Surprise,” Mimi Griffin said, tottering in. Tara glanced down at Mimi’s feet. Gold heels stared back at her. Veronica’s shoes. The ones Tara had spotted in the closet of Veronica’s hotel room right before they were stolen. And sadly, it wasn’t a surprise. Tara felt her jaw clench. This was supposed to be her night. Did Mimi really think no one would notice? She’d have to deal with this later.

  “Are we not welcome here?” Eddie said, straightening his bow tie. “You seemed to accept the invitation to the castle without hesitation.”

  Touché.

  “I don’t suppose you have my watch here?” Mimi said, batting her eyelashes. “I wouldn’t mind giving it a little squeeze.”

  “No,” Tara said, trying not to stare at Mimi’s stolen heels. “I do not.”

  “Oh.” Mimi bit her lip.

  “You took a photo,” Cassidy said. “Just stare at that some more.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Mingle, enjoy yourselves,” Tara said. She turned to find someone else, anyone else, to chat with.

  “I need to speak with ya.” The tug on Tara’s sleeve came from Mimi. She was so close Tara could feel her breath on her neck. It was the worst possible moment. The caterers wanted to be paid, a child was playing with the Viking helmet Uncle Johnny had given her, and a drunk lady was getting dangerously close to spilling her glass of champagne in the patio fountain. Tara held her finger up. “I’ll be right with you.”

  “It’s urgent,” Mimi said. “I don’t know who else to trust.”

  A very dramatic statement on what was supposed to be her special night. Had Mimi seen her staring at her gold heels and now she wanted to spin a story? “I’ll be right back.”

  “Could we go somewhere a little more private?”

  Had Mimi not heard Tara ask for a minute? A waiter went by with a tray of champagne. Tara grabbed two glasses and handed one to Mimi. “Have a glass of champagne.”

  “It was in my notebook all this time, the key to solving the murder—”

  “I recognize those shoes,” Tara said. “You stole them.” Mimi chewed on her lip. “Why did you start to write Bartley on the mirror?”

  Mimi shook her head. “His finances. He may have been skimming from Veronica.”

  “May have been?”

  “There’s more. Something I read in my notes. It was all right there in front of me.”

  “What?”

  “Remember I said someone had been messing with my notes?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought it wasn’t possible. I always carried them with me.” She shook her head. “How could I be so stupid?”

  “I don’t understand.” Just then Mimi’s phone dinged. “Tell me,” Tara urged. But Mimi’s face was now buried in the screen of her mobile phone. “Mimi?”

  Mimi’s head popped up. “There’s something in your vase.” Panic rang from her voice.

  “My vase?” Mimi was staring at the flowers that someone had left on Tara’s doorstep. Tara had placed them on a pedestal table underneath the chandelier.

  Mimi held up a finger as she raced over to them. Tara watched, first in confusion, then horror as Mimi began pulling flowers out, one by one, tossing them to the floor. Was she on something?

  “What are you doing?” Tara started over. The kid wearing her Viking helmet darted in front of her, blocking her path. It was too heavy for his small head and was slipping over his eyes. “Hey, there,” Tara said, crouching down. “You’ll bang into something if you can’t see.” She gently lifted the helmet off his head.

  He wailed. “Mine!” He grabbed for the helmet.

  “Sorry, I told him to put it back.” Tara turned to see his young mother, the stress evident on her face. The little boy was crying now, and screaming for the helmet. Tara felt the beginning of a migraine pulsing at her temple. Behind them, Mimi Griffin was a crazed woman. Sweat poured down her face as she continued ripping flowers from the vase. Tara needed to deal with Mimi, but she couldn’t think with this little boy screaming his head off. Tara put the Viking helmet on her head and made a silly face. Way to ruin an expensive blow-out, but it did the trick. The boy stopped screaming, grinned, and pointed at Tara. “You look silly.”

  She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. He laughed. The mother flashed her a thank you and dragged him away by the elbow. By the time the stressed-out mother and aspiring Viking had cleared the path, nearly all the gorgeous flowers were strewn all over the bamboo floor. Water dripped from the table. Mimi’s head hovered over the tall crystal vase as if she was thinking of diving into it. Is she on something? “Mimi!” She either didn’t hear Tara or didn’t care. She stuffed her hand into the vase and swirled it in the water. From up above, the chandelier began to vibrate as if picking up on her distress.

  “Wh
at in the world?” Just as Tara reached Mimi, a loud groan sounded from the ceiling. Tara’s head snapped up. Cracks formed before her eyes, as another groan rang out. The chandelier slipped down an inch. Tara jumped. “Run,” Tara said. “Run.” A terrible thing to yell in a small, crowded space, but panic was doing the talking. A screech rang out this time as the chandelier dropped again.

  “Watch out!” Danny yelled. Mimi wasn’t moving. Tara grabbed her. Danny grabbed Tara. Everyone pulled as the loudest groan of them all rang out and a blur of medieval iron and crystal soared down. Mimi, neck craned up, was rooted to the spot. She resisted Tara’s attempt to pull her away. Tara was forced to drop Mimi’s arm and dart out of the way. She heard a clink, and felt a whack to the side of her helmet as a piece of the chandelier slammed into her. The blow sent Tara to the ground. The Viking helmet flew off. Mimi, the table, and the vase, were soon buried in a jumble on the ground. Screams rang out from every corner of the shop as a stampede formed for the front and back doors. Men raced toward Mimi, and she heard someone shouting they were calling 999. Tara wanted to sit up, but Danny was by her side begging her not to move. She touched her head. “I’m okay.” The Viking helmet saved her life.

  Even as her eyes took in the horrific scene, her mind was scrambling to prove this was not happening. Mimi’s body was deathly still, and the chandelier completely covered her face. “Is she okay?” Tara asked, over and over. Danny did not answer. Men finally lifted the chandelier off Mimi and a figure bent over her, as if to do CPR. His head popped up, and he shook it. No. No, no, no. Guests gathered around, watching from the perimeter and through the patio doors. Was this Tara’s fault—had she hired the wrong lads to hang it, was it too heavy to begin with? With Danny’s help, she sat up, and then stood. “The guards are on their way,” she heard a man say. Danny eased Tara into her Queen Anne chair. Tears poured down her face. “Mimi,” was all she could say.

  “You did everything you could,” Danny said. “I saw you.”