by Diane Weiner
“See, Mike?” exclaimed Susan. “What a schmuck!” She turned to Emily. “The Youngs still want you to go ahead with the book, right?”
“More than ever,” said Emily.
Chapter 17
Still dumbfounded at the gall of Peter Taglieri, Susan and Emily headed to the police station to update the detectives.
“After we’re done, I need to stop by my office,” said Emily. “It won’t take long.”
The station was smaller and older than the one in Westbrook where Lynette worked. Susan smelled coffee. Detective O’Leary was making copies. Detective Wooster was at his desk. “Can I help you, ladies?”
Emily said, “Detective, we found some information about Peter Taglieri. Before setting up shop here in Vermont, he profited from a mysterious death. Tim Thompson, the victim, owned land that Peter wanted. The man wouldn’t sell. After his death, a relative inherited the place and sold it to Peewee Miniatures.”
“Then Mrs. Anderson died. Emily told me Peewee wanted to buy her land, but she wouldn’t sell either. We heard she’d received threats. Now she’s dead. Her son didn’t hesitate to unload the property.”
“Even though we recently moved here, Henry and I have been spending summers up here with his family for many years. I remember Henry’s mother talking about Mrs. Anderson’s stubbornness. She admired her for it.”
Susan said, “Now Taglieri can’t convince Emily and Henry to sell. If he killed Emily, I’m sure he figured Henry wouldn’t stay up here by himself.”
“Or maybe he was planning on killing Henry too,” said Emily.
“Mrs. Anderson died of natural causes,” said Detective Wooster. “And we can’t place Peter Taglieri at your office at the time of the murder. Calm down and trust us to do our job.”
“Natural causes. I assume an autopsy was performed?” asked Susan.
Emily put her hand on Susan’s shoulder and discreetly shook her head, but Susan ignored her. “Peter’s van was heading away from the inauguration ceremony. That was the same day Martha was murdered. It was on the news. You have proof.”
“It may be proof that the van was on the college grounds. We have nothing even hinting that Taglieri was at the office. Now, I have work to do. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course, Detective,” said Emily.
She led Susan out to the car. “Susan, be careful. We don’t want to get the police on our bad side. Off to St. Edwards. I have a stack of papers to grade. I’ll grab them, and how about going over to the antique store afterward?”
“Sounds like fun,” said Susan. She couldn’t stop mulling over the information about Peter Taglieri. The man has a criminal record and needed to obtain Mrs. Anderson’s land. Just like with Tim Thompson, the owner conveniently dies and––poof––Taglieri gets the land. He still needs Emily and Henry’s place, reasoned Susan, and then there’s an attempt to kill Emily. Add to the mix the fact that Emily is writing a book, which would bring bad publicity to the town, discouraging potential buyers from purchasing tiny homes. It was a quick ride, and soon they were on the college grounds. “Hey, isn’t that your colleague?”
“Yes, that’s Joe. Looks like he’s heading to his office.”
“The girl with him. We saw her at the inn, right? One of your department’s adjuncts, Bridgette.”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“They seem awfully friendly, walking so close like that. Look, he just gave her a swat on the butt!”
“Are you sure, Susan? Wait, you’re right. He did it again. He has to be joking with her.”
Susan and Emily pulled behind the office and went inside. Emily gathered her papers and checked her school e-mail. She drummed her fingers on the desk.
“What’s wrong?”
“Darn, I have to fill this form out, but I’m not sure what code to put. Let’s see if Joe made it to his office yet.”
They walked down the hall, passing Bridgette on the way.
“Joe, I need some help.” She fanned herself with the form.
“Anything. What do you need?”
“This is due tomorrow, and I have no idea what to put for the code.”
“Here, I’ll write it in.”
Susan said, “It’s really stuffy in here. Do you mind if I open the window?”
“I wouldn’t mind, but that window doesn’t open. It’s been stuck shut for years. Where are you ladies heading?”
“Hitting the antique store,” said Emily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
On the way back to her office, they passed the adjunct Sarah Kimberly who Emily had reported had been arguing with Martha before her murder. Emily said, “Hi, Sarah. How’s your dissertation coming along?”
“Just great. Joe, I mean Dr. Sommers, says I’m on my way. Proposal is done, and I’m starting on my lit search. As a matter of fact, I’m heading over to the library now.”
“Good to hear,” said Emily. “At this rate, you’ll be Dr. Kimberly in no time.”
When they reached the car, Susan said, “Do we know for sure Morgan and Gerald aren’t the killers?” She was leaning toward Taglieri, but in the back of her mind, she still suspected Gerald and wanted to go back over the possibilities.
“I don’t think Gerald could have pulled it off,” said Emily.
“Joe said he and Morgan came late to the inauguration ceremony,” argued Susan.
“I have an idea,” said Emily. “If it will make you feel better, we can stop by the publicity office. I’m sure they recorded the ceremony from start to finish, and we can see for ourselves.”
Emily pulled in front of the main library where the publicity office was located. They walked past students working on computers and small groups who appeared to be working on projects. Emily knocked on the door. A film student on work-study manned the desk.
“Hi, Dr. Fox. What can I help you with?”
“We want to see the footage from the inauguration. Do you have it here?”
“Sure.” He typed in the info. “Here’s the link. You can use that computer by the window.”
Emily and Susan sat down and connected to the footage.
“I recognize most of these people,” said Emily. They watched for several minutes. “There’s Morgan and Gerald.”
“The ceremony hasn’t started yet, and they’re going in now. Look, they have seats. There’s Sarah Kimberly. She made it before the ceremony started. And look. There’s the Peewee van like we saw on the news.”
They watched the entire inauguration.
“We never see the van return and no sign of Peter Taglieri inside.”
“Morgan and Gerald are leaving with everyone else. So is Sarah Kimberly. That gives them an alibi for the murder. We can cross them off the list.”
“Mission accomplished. Let’s go antiquing.”
Chapter 18
The scenic drive to the antique store took them around the lake to a small downtown area. Cobblestone Main Street was comprised of a used bookstore, a general store, a post office, and a café. Antique-style streetlights hung at regular intervals. A copper sculpture of a maple tree surrounded by shrubs and flanked by two park benches formed a square in the middle of the area.
“During the summer, there’s a farmers’ market here every weekend,” said Emily. “And you see people eating bag lunches on the benches.”
“It’s an adorable little town.”
“Don’t use the word adorable. Peter Taglieri uses it in his pitch for his future tiny house community.”
“How presumptuous is he?”
“Very. And knowing how he always seems to get his way, I fear for the future of Sugarbury Falls. Even if Henry and I don’t sell, watch him try building somewhere nearby where he can bully the landowners into relinquishing their property. Here’s the antique store.”
Paradoxically clean yet dusty, the antique store smelled of damp, old books. The shiny, tiled entranceway and front window sparkled, and a hint of a residual bleach aroma greeted them. When the bell over the
door signaled their entrance, the owner emerged from the back.
“Hi, Emily. Who’s your friend?”
“Susan Wiles. An old friend from back in New York. She’s a retired teacher, here with her husband, Mike.”
“I hope you’re enjoying your visit. Can I help you find anything in particular?”
“Just browsing for now.”
Susan and Emily worked their way around the store. In the furniture area, Susan found a treasure. “Emily, look at this cradle. It’s so sweet. It would be perfect for my new grandbaby.”
“It’s beautiful. You can get Mike to paint her name on it.”
“Oh, and look, a rocking chair. Look at the intricate carvings on the back. Flowers and hearts, so sweet.”
“Doesn’t Lynette have one from Annalise?”
“This is for my house. For when my granddaughters come visit.”
The shop owner rang up the purchases. “I love this cradle. If I had grandchildren of my own, it never would have made it out to the floor. Good thing you’ve got a Jeep.”
Susan suddenly remembered they’d driven to Vermont in a Prius. “Oh no. Maybe I’ll just take the cradle.”
“No way,” said Emily. “We’ll keep it at our house, and we’ll bring it to you next time we visit. I’m sure it will be before the baby comes.”
The shop owner helped them load the purchases into the Jeep. As they were about to leave, Susan recognized someone leaving the bookstore across the street.
“Emily, isn’t that Martha Peterson’s sister?”
“Sure is. I’m surprised she’s still here.” When she moved closer, they greeted her.
“Are you getting all the arrangements wrapped up?” asked Emily. “I know it must be hard. I can go through her office for you if you’d like.”
“That would be helpful. I’d like to get back home within the next few days. Do you know if the police ever found Martha’s boyfriend?”
“Not that we’ve heard,” said Emily. “Of course it’s not like they share all their info with us. I have a class in the morning. I’ll go over to her office after that.”
By the time they got back to Emily’s, it was nearly time for dinner. Emily parked the Jeep, then got the men to help unload the new treasures. They were surprised to find Kurt in the living room sharing a beer with the guys.
“We have some treasures in the car. Can you help us carry them?”
Kurt, Henry, and Mike followed the girls outside. Mike and Henry carried the cradle into the house. When they returned, all three men struggled to get the rocking chair out of the Jeep.
Henry said, “Where are we going to put this? I don’t think there’s a free corner left in our place. It’s too heavy to bring up to the loft.”
“What about the barn?” asked Emily. “Susan and Mike are taking the cradle home with them, but we’ll have to store the rocker until our next trip to see them.”
“The barn it is then,” said Henry. “Come on, Kurt. You grab that end.”
Susan and Emily held open the barn door while the men carried in the rocker. Susan looked down at the floor. She saw a partial shoe print near one of the stalls.
“Look down there. The last time we were in here, the night we caught Noah, there were definitely no footprints on the floor. I looked.”
Henry said, “No one has been in here since that night. It must be Noah’s.”
“Noah wears those heavy work boots,” said Emily. “He was wearing them the night we caught him. This looks more like a sneaker print. I’m going to call Detective Wooster.”
“In the meantime, let’s go inside,” said Henry. “Come with us, Kurt. I’ll make coffee.”
“You know,” said Kurt, “I thought I was going crazy, but last night when I was out walking with Prancer, I could have sworn I saw a shadow by the barn. Figured I was imagining things.”
Emily said, “Noah is sitting in a jail cell. Do you think he had an accomplice?”
Later after the coffee was made, Detectives Wooster and O’Leary knocked on the door.
“Come on in,” said Henry. “We called because our friend Susan noticed a print on the barn floor. She swears it wasn’t there the night Noah was arrested.”
“I’m glad she noticed it. We took pictures of the crime scene, and I checked them before coming over. Mrs. Wiles is right. The print wasn’t there the night we arrested Noah. It has to be more recent.”
Emily said, “Do you think Noah had an accomplice? Have you had any more reports of stolen jewelry?”
“Not since we arrested Noah Saunders. We’ll take an impression of the print and see if there’s any other new evidence out there.”
“I thought I saw someone out there last night,” said Kurt. “It was just a shadow, and I figured it was nothing, but in light of the shoe print…”
“Thanks. Keep on the alert. If someone else is going in that barn, we’ll catch him,” said Detective O’Leary.
Chapter 19
Susan thought about the footprint while tossing and turning most of the night. Besides Noah, who else would possibly have reason to be in Emily and Henry’s barn? Was Peter Taglieri checking to be sure there wasn’t a surprise in there before knocking off Emily and Henry?
The next morning, Susan drank an extra cup of coffee in hopes of compensating for her sleepless night. The sugary syrup on top of Emily’s homemade pancakes boosted her blood sugar, and after breakfast, she felt ready to take on the day.
Henry and Mike went out for another round of ice fishing. Emily took Susan with her to the college while she taught her class. Afterward, they kept their promise to Martha Peterson’s sister and went to Martha’s office.
“I’ll start with her files,” said Emily. “Why don’t you get the books?”
It’s eerie going through things that were recently used by someone who is now dead. Susan went through the bookshelf and packed the personal books into a box. “Hey, was this always here?” She picked up a heavy trophy and turned it over.
“Looking for blood?” said Emily.
“Well, actually… I don’t see any.” Susan packed the trophy with the books. While she was working, she heard someone running down the hall and peeked her head out the door to investigate.
“Who was it?” asked Emily.
“It’s that adjunct Bridgette. She ran into the ladies’ room. She looks upset. Do you want me to check on her?”
“She’s a big girl.” Emily paused. “But if it makes you feel better, go ahead.”
Susan opened the restroom door and found Bridgette crying at the sink.
“What’s wrong? Can I help?” asked Susan.
Sniffling, Bridgette said, “No one can help. It’s complicated.”
“School trouble? Boyfriend trouble?”
“A little of both. Everything. I’ll be fine. I just need some time alone.” Bridgette washed her face, and Susan returned to Martha’s office.
“Is she okay?” asked Emily.
“She’s pretty upset about something but didn’t want to talk about it. Like you said, she’s a big girl. Should I go through the desk now?” Emily nodded, and Susan took a fresh box to pack up the desk. She found the usual office supplies—staples, paperclips—and personal items such as makeup and a sewing kit. “Hey, here’s a card. It says, “From Keith with love.”
“Keith? Maybe that was her boyfriend.”
Susan found a letter in the desk, also from Keith. “Hey, this one’s X-rated. It has to be her boyfriend.”
“Too bad there isn’t a last name.”
“Wait. She has a cell phone in here. Didn’t the police find one in her purse? It must be a secondary one. I’m going to listen to her voice mail. It’s not even password protected.” She played the first voice mail:
“I’m sorry, what else can I say? If I could take it back, I would. You can’t go to my wife. We have to talk. I’ll stop by later.”
“Whose wife?” asked Susan.
“You’ve got me,” said Emily. “It so
unds like Martha found out her boyfriend, Keith, was married.”
“To who? Any ideas?”
“We can list the circles I think Martha was in. She was pretty involved with her church; I tagged along once or twice. She sang in the choir. We can nose around there. And there’s here. I have a faculty roster. We can look for someone named Keith.”
“We should call Martha’s sister and see if she ever heard Martha talk about a Keith. She’s still at the inn, right? I’d say it’s lunch time, my stomach is growling.”
“Let’s go.”
When they arrived at the inn, Coralee greeted them in the lobby, understandably lacking her usual energy and upbeat manner. Susan noted the dark circles under her eyes and her slumped posture. She couldn’t imagine having a child arrested, especially as a single parent. Coralee was holding the business together singlehandedly now that Noah was in jail.
“I called the lawyer you recommended, Emily. Had to take out an equity loan to afford his fees, but I have faith he can get the best deal possible for Noah.”
Emily said, “Henry loves to work with his hands, and he’s pretty good at fixing things. If you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. And now that I’m semi-retired, I wouldn’t mind helping out with the weekend meal rush.”
“You’re a great cook, but I couldn’t ask you to do that. A teacher from St. Edwards came by looking for part-time work. I think I can swing it. You may know her—Sarah Kimberly.”
“Yes, she’s a part-time adjunct in the English Department. She was working with Martha, now she’s working with Joe Sommers. That’s a great idea.”
“Come, sit. I’ll bring you some menus.”
“Thanks, Coralee. You know, we were hoping to talk to Martha’s sister. She’s still here, isn’t she? Maybe she could even join us for lunch.”
“Yes. I can call her if you’d like.”
While Coralee called, Susan and Emily perused the menu. Susan eyed the garden quiche and decided to order it with a cup of tomato soup. Emily opted for pasta primavera.
