by Reagan Davis
After he leaves, I shudder. Paul was definitely murdered, and there’s a murderer in our midst. If it were tourist season, we might be able to blame an outsider for what happened, but the summer tourist season is over and the winter tourist season hasn’t begun, which means Paul was murdered by a local. One of my neighbours is a killer.
I wave off the last Stitch-Fix knitter, after helping her close a hole in a sweater sleeve made when she accidentally created a stitch about sixty rows ago. I feel a rumble in my tummy, and decide to get a glass of water and a snack from the kitchenette. I’m almost at the fridge when the door jingles. I poke my head into the store and see April carrying one of my favourite things, a white confectionery box with the Artsy Tartsy logo on the lid. I grab two glasses of water and join her on the sofa.
She opens the box and reveals still-warm pumpkin oatmeal cookies for us and a small container of whipped cream for Harlow.
While the three of us enjoy our treats, I tell April about my visit from Eric Sloane and my theory about the killer being local and possibly someone we know and interact with regularly.
“Isn’t it usually the spouse in books and on TV?” April asks. “I mean, Kelly had access to him, and it was her yarn that killed him.”
What did she just say?
“How do you know how Paul died?”
Eric asked me not to say anything about my theory that Paul was strangled from behind with the yarn Kelly bought that day.
“It was in the WSBA group chat.” She shrugs and picks up another cookie. “Apparently Mort mentioned it to someone. He said he and the coroner had to remove Paul carefully to not disturb the yarn around his neck. Whoever he told mentioned it to someone in the group chat and now the entire WSBA knows.
Which means the entire town knows. The Water Street Business Association (WSBA) group chat is for members only. Connie and April are members because they own businesses on Water Street, but I’m not. The chat is used for things like announcing sales, reminders about meetings, and gossip.
Mort Ackerman is our local funeral director. He owns Mourning Glory Funeral Home in Harmony Hills.
I make a mental note to text Eric and tell him that the thing he didn’t want me to tell anybody is now common knowledge, and that it wasn’t me who let the yarn out of the bag, so to speak.
“She would have had to leave Mrs. Pearson long enough to go upstairs, kill Paul, come back downstairs, and compose herself. When I got there, she was her usual, friendly, laid-back self. There was no hint that she had just killed her husband,” I reason.
“But she would be composed if she’s a psychopath,” April deduces. “Psychopaths don’t lose their composure when they kill someone, and they can act like they aren’t psychopaths, that’s how they trick the rest of us.”
April shudders, visibly. I think we both feel weirded out at the thought of being in the proximity of a psychopath and not knowing who it is.
I reach into the box, take the last cookie, and offer it to April, but she waves it away. I break it in half and hold out half the cookie to her, but she waves it off, too, so it’s all mine!
“I saw Paul and Fred in a car together when I left the bakery yesterday. They were arguing. I’m not sure if they already knew each other, or if Paul caught him breaking a bylaw and confronted him.”
“That’s interesting…” She nods, her gaze wandering to the left.
“Paul was having an issue with Ryan, too...” I’m speaking with my mouth full because these cookies are so good, they've made me forget my manners. I raise my right index finger, swallow the cookie, and have a sip of water. “Something had to have happened between them for Paul to not trust him.”
“Paul had issues with lots of people, and lots of people had issues with him. If having an issue with Paul is all it takes to get your name added to the suspect list, almost everyone in town is on the list.”
She makes a good point.
“Speaking of issues with Paul,” I say, “I’m pretty sure Adam and I are at the top of the suspect list.”
I take a deep breath and tell her about Paul having the photos and using them to try to blackmail Adam.
Before she can react, we’re interrupted by the jingle of the front door, and Connie comes sweeping in to join us.
We fill her in on our discussion until it’s time to lock the door and flip the sign to CLOSED.
Chapter 10
As soon as I walk in the house, I text Hannah and ask her to FaceTime with me.
Adam isn’t home, and I know he’d want to be here when I tell her about Paul, but April and I agreed we need to tell both Hannah and Rachael, April and Tamara's daughter, tonight about Paul’s murder. We agreed to FaceTime our daughters as soon as we get to our respective homes. This way they’ll both hear it from us instead of from each other, a friend in Harmony Lake, or on social media.
I hit Send on my text to Hannah, then pull Eric’s business card from my wallet and fire off a text to him explaining that the information he asked me to keep to myself is all over town because of someone else. I didn’t tell him it was Mort because, first, I don’t know for sure it was Mort, I only know that’s what April told me she read in the WSBA group chat, and second, Eric’s a detective, and if he wants to know who let the yarn out of the bag, he can use his detective skills and figure it out.
Hannah FaceTimes me and I tell her about Paul. A few minutes into our conversation the doorbell rings. I look through the living room window and see Eric Sloane standing on the porch. I open the door and gesture for him to come in as I say my goodbyes and I love yous to Hannah and end our call.
“I sent you a text a little while ago,” I say as I lead us into the living room.
We sit and I offer him a beverage. He declines.
“I was driving, but I read it when I pulled into your driveway. It’s difficult to keep things under wraps in such a small town. It would’ve been ideal to keep the yarn as a hold-back, but it’s all right.”
“What’s a hold-back?” I ask.
Eric explains that a hold-back is a piece of evidence or information from the crime scene that only the killer or someone who was present would know about. The hold-back is useful when interrogating a suspect. If they mention the hold-back, it’s a good indication they were there. A hold-back can also eliminate someone who confesses to a crime they didn’t commit, because according to Eric, people actually do that. If they don’t mention the holdback, it’s less likely they were at the crime scene when the crime occurred.
“I’m hoping to see Mr. Martel,” he says.
I feel relieved, then I feel guilty for feeling relieved that Adam is about to be questioned instead of me.
“He’s not here. I can text him, let him know you’re here and ask when he’ll be back?”
Eric nods, “Thanks, that would be great.”
I text Adam and wait for a reply.
“Do you have any idea where he might be?” he asks.
This is a loaded question. I’m pretty sure Eric has figured out Adam and I aren’t happily married. I mean, telling him I met with my husband’s girlfriend’s husband was a big clue, and so are the photos and texts between Adam and Stephanie that Paul had on his phone. I think he’s looking for me to confirm it and give him some back story without coming out and asking me directly.
“We still live under the same roof, but Adam and I have been separated for months. I don’t know where he is, and we don’t monitor each other’s comings and goings.”
That’s the short version.
“Was the separation triggered by the photos on Mr. Sinclair’s phone?”
He’s asking carefully, as if he’s trying to be sensitive to the situation, which I appreciate.
“No.” I shake my head. “As far as I know, the affair with Stephanie started fairly recently. I only found out about it yesterday from Fred. He and Stephanie were prepared to make the photos public if Adam didn’t leave the firm. I didn’t know Paul had the photos until this morning when
Adam told me. I honestly didn’t know when I went to the salon yesterday that Paul knew about the affair or had photos to prove it.”
My phone dings.
“It’s Adam. He says he’s only a few minutes away.”
“That’s great. Thank you. Is it possible that Mr. Martel wanted to keep the affair a secret so badly that he did something drastic?”
“No!”
I answer quickly and emphatically, so Eric sees I have no hesitation about believing that Adam didn’t kill Paul.
“Adam wouldn’t hurt a soul. I mean, he takes spiders outside instead of killing them, and in the winter, he puts them in the garage instead of outside, so they won’t freeze,” I explain.
“But spiders aren’t blackmailing him, Megan.”
“Adam is a smart man and a lawyer,” I reason. “He knows eliminating Paul wouldn’t eliminate the evidence that Paul was blackmailing him. At the very least, he would’ve taken Paul’s phone with him and disposed of it or deleted the evidence from it to slow down the investigation, but Paul’s phone was on the table with the yarn, I saw it. I doubt the contents of his phone were the only motive for his murder.”
“That’s very observant, but what if Mr. Martel and Mrs. Sinclair were having a relationship?”
Excuse me? Did he really suggest that Adam and Kelly are having a relationship? Adam and Kelly? Do they even know each other? Adam gets his hair cut by a barber near his office in the city, and he’s always at work and hardly ever in town. How many women has Adam been seeing? Oh my god, what if he sent intimate photos to her, too?!
I’m sure the look on my face is enough to tell Eric that this is the first I’ve heard of it.
“Are they?” I hope I said that out loud and not just in my head.
“We’ve found communication between them, and evidence that they’ve met face-to-face. What can you tell me about that?”
I shake my head. I’m searching for words, but I’m speechless. I feel like Eric just blindsided me on purpose, and it makes me feel like I can’t trust him.
We both turn to look toward the door when we hear it open. Adam walks in with a laptop box under his arm. He slips his shoes off, walks past us and into the dining room where he places the box on the dining room table.
Adam greets us, then he and Eric introduce themselves to each other and shake hands.
Would Adam like to go to the police station to talk, or would he like to do it at the house and I can go out? They’re both looking to me for an answer, but I’m still speechless and processing the bombshell about Adam and Kelly. All I can do is shake my head and shrug.
Adam opts for the police station and puts his shoes on. Eric joins Adam at the door and has one hand on the doorknob.
“Thank you, Megan.” Eric smiles.
His smile offends me. It’s like he’s pleased with himself for playing head games with me. I nod to him in response.
“Lock the door behind me and don’t wait up,” Adam says.
He smiles and closes the door behind him. I walk over and lock it, even though we never lock the door when one of us is home.
Everything has changed so much in 24 hours.
The more I think about it, the more this doesn’t feel right. Adam and Kelly having an affair? Yesterday when I heard from Fred, my instincts told me that there was some truth to what he was telling me. Today, my instincts are telling me the opposite. They’re telling me if there is a relationship between Adam and Kelly, it’s not an intimate one. It’s too bad instincts aren’t evidence.
If they are, or were, having an affair, that would give Kelly another motive to kill Paul. Maybe he found out and was going to leave her. Or, maybe she wanted to leave him to be with Adam but Paul was making that difficult. Maybe murder is less expensive and faster than divorce. Maybe Paul was blackmailing her, too.
Kelly is always so sweet and kind to me. Could she be sleeping with my husband and still act totally normal around me?
April would say, yes, she could, if she’s a psychopath.
An affair with Kelly would give Adam another motive, too. Maybe Paul threatened to tell Kelly about Stephanie, his other mistress. Or maybe Paul wouldn’t get out of the way for Adam and Kelly to be together.
All this what-iffing is making my head hurt. I go into the kitchen and pour myself a small glass of wine.
I hear my phone ding in the living room, and wine-in-hand, go back in there to find it. It’s a text from Connie.
Connie: According to the WSBA group chat Kelly has left the police station and is staying with her sister in the city. She can’t go home because the apartment and salon are crime scenes.
Why would she want to? Paul has been dead for barely twenty-four hours. The place where he was murdered would be the last place I’d want to go if I were her.
Ding! This time it’s April and it’s a group text to Connie and me.
April: Did you guys hear that Kelly is staying with her sister?
Connie: Yes, that poor girl! At least she has her sister!
Me: Eric and Adam just went to the police station so Adam can be questioned. Eric hinted that Adam and Kelly might be having or have had an affair.
April: ?!?!?!
Connie: Oh my!
April: Maybe he’s speculating?
Connie: I was just about to say that!
Connie’s exclamation points are the text-equivalent of speaking with her hands, and it makes me smile. We all text for a little while longer, then I decide to call it a day and get ready for bed.
Chapter 11
Thursday, September 12th
On my walk to work through the drizzle and fog, I stop at Latte Da and pick up two café mochas with whipped cream.
I Iet myself into the yarn store through the front door and turn on the computer on my way to put away my jacket and tote bag. I leave Connie’s coffee on the counter in the kitchenette for her to find when she comes downstairs.
I’m only working a half-day today and I want to process and pack the online orders, so I can drop them off at the post office on my way home.
I take care of all the technology-related tasks at Knitorious because Connie says she doesn’t like technology. For someone who doesn’t like it, she’s quite proficient at texting and social media. But if given the choice, she’d prefer to use ledger books and checklists to keep track of the accounts and manage inventory. Administrative tasks are one of my happy places. I majored in economics and minored in accounting, and I'm happy to be in charge of the administrivia for the store.
I check the store email, print the online orders, and walk from shelf to shelf collecting the yarn and notions to fill them. I pull out tissue paper, envelopes, and plastic Ziploc bags from under the counter. The crinkling sound of the tissue paper is a beacon that lures Harlow to the Harvest table where I’m working. He loves tissue paper, so I ball-up a couple of sheets for him to play with, and toss them onto the floor, across the store. He chases them and attacks them, a safe distance from the sheets I’m using to pack the yarn; I’m sure customers would rather receive their yarn free of cat fur.
While I’m wrapping, packing, and labeling, my phone dings. It’s Eric, and he wants to know what time would be convenient to meet. I decide to finish the online orders and text him later. I want to finish up and put everything away before Harlow loses interest in his tissue paper balls and decides to help me.
I’m not eager to talk to Eric right now, anyway. I’m still angry about the way he dropped the Adam-and-Kelly bombshell without any regard for my feelings and seemed proud to shock me with it.
Connie is puttering around in the kitchenette, cleaning out the fridge and checking our supplies of coffee, tea, snacks, cat food, and treats.
“What the...? Oh, my.”
“Is everything all right, Connie?” I call into the kitchenette without losing my stride packing and addressing bubble mailers.
Connie comes into the store holding a thingamajig in her hand.
“I opened the dis
hwasher to empty it and this”—she holds the offending thingamajig in front of her nose—“was sitting in the bottom of the tub and is probably the reason the dishes are still dirty.”
“I’m sure The Wright Men can fix it. I saw Ryan driving down Water Street on my way to work. If he’s still around, maybe he can fix it today, and maybe I can ask him a few questions while he’s here.”
“Ask him a few questions about what, my dear?”
“What Kelly said when she was here on Tuesday, about Paul not trusting Ryan and not wanting him in the salon or the store. Right now, Adam and I are pretty high up on the suspect list, and if I can find out who the real killer is, I can clear our names.”
“Are you suggesting that Ryan Wright killed Paul?”
Connie sounds incredulous, and I get it. Ryan is one of the last people I’d ever suspect of murder. But on TV the killer is always the last person everyone suspects.
“Not necessarily,” I say, “but maybe whatever went on between them will shed some light on what happened to Paul.''
Connie picks up the landline and calls Ryan. He happens to be servicing the walk-in cooler next door at Wilde Flowers and says he can stop by to look at the dishwasher in about an hour. I finish packing orders while Connie goes back into the kitchenette to hand-wash the dishes in the broken dishwasher.
Almost exactly one hour later, I hear a knock at the back door. I open the door and Ryan and his toolbox get straight to work assessing the dishwasher situation. I hand him the thingamajig we think is causing the problem, and Harlow and I hover around him while Connie serves the handful of customers who are milling around the store.
Harlow rubs up against Ryan’s ankles while he and I talk about Paul’s murder and how shocking it is. I ask him if he’s heard any rumours since he’s in and out of so many homes and businesses each day. He must see a lot of people and hear a lot of things.
He says he hasn’t heard anything other than sympathy for Kelly. The general consensus is that it was most likely a targeted murder by someone who Paul had a disagreement with, and not a random attack or serial killer.
