Can't Judge a Book by Its Murder

by Amy Lillard

  “What?”

  “They’re coming down the stairs as we speak.”

  That explained the thumping sound she heard in the background, or maybe it was the blood pounding in her ears.

  “Don’t let them go anywhere.”

  “I can’t keep them here.”

  “Yes, you can. Call Fern and Camille. Do something to stall them. I’ll be right there.”

  * * *

  Arlo didn’t bother to change clothes. It might look strange going out dressed in her pj’s, but she couldn’t risk taking the time. She had to get to the inn and fast.

  She grabbed her car keys from the bar, slung her purse over her shoulder, and headed out the door.

  The only shoes in the room were her high heels from the party and the shoes she wore when she cut the grass, so she left on her slippers and hopped into her car.

  “Please,” she begged all the way to the inn. “Please let her find a way to keep them there. Please let their rental car not start. Or have a flat.” That was almost as good. But she had a feeling she was going to arrive at the inn to see Helen and Camille performing charades as Daisy and Inna walked out the door, taking the truth with them.

  She stopped at the light at Main and Sixth but only because someone was coming. Please don’t let it be them. The last thing she needed was a speed-limit car chase all the way to Memphis International.

  The truck turned, slowed, then came to a stop beside her.

  What now?

  The window rolled down, and Sam propped one hand on the steering wheel as he stared at her.

  “Nice outfit, Stanley.”

  “I don’t have time for this, Sam. I’ve got to get to the inn. I know who killed Wally.”

  He sat up straight. “You do?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “Have you called Mads?”

  She hadn’t even thought about it.

  “You go on. I’ll get him on the line and be right behind you.”

  “’Kay. Thanks.” The light turned green, and she hit the gas. She wasn’t positive, but she thought she heard him call out, “Be careful!” as she sped away.

  * * *

  “It was working this afternoon,” Daisy said.

  “You were the last one to drive it,” Inna accused. “What have you broken?”

  “I haven’t broken anything.”

  Arlo could hear the argument before she even got out of the car.

  Camille and Helen stood on the porch watching, while Fern was off to one side looking entirely too innocent.

  “Good job,” Arlo muttered to herself. “Going somewhere?” she asked a bit louder.

  Inna looked up, those blue eyes sharp with anger. “I guess not, as you have parked behind the car.”

  Arlo looked at her own vehicle. “I suppose I have.”

  “No matter. It will not crank. Daisy broke it this afternoon.”

  “Are you sure you’re not framing her for that too?” Arlo asked.

  “Too?” Inna shook her head. “I do not frame.”

  “Yes,” Arlo said quietly. “You do. You tried to frame Daisy for killing Wally.”

  Daisy got out of the car, sputtering. “Inna?”

  The woman planted her fists on her hips. “And if I do?”

  “Oh, you do,” Arlo assured her. “I know. But they arrested Chloe instead. You forget. I was at the police station when you asked Mads to arrest Daisy.”

  “You what?” It was clear that Daisy thought she and Inna had a more amicable relationship than really existed between them.

  “I was merely suggesting that he look into things.”

  “Like the mushroom poison that you put in Wally’s coffee. You figured that would look like Daisy was trying to kill him. Am I right?” She took a step toward Inna, but the woman held her ground. Honestly, Arlo had forgotten how tall she was. Or maybe she seemed larger than life since Arlo was at a height disadvantage in her pink terry slippers.

  Helen and Camille came down the stairs. Strength in numbers.

  “You cannot prove a thing.”

  “Yes,” Arlo nodded. “I can. See, I found the earring you dropped in Chloe’s bungalow. Just what were you doing in there?”

  “I was not.”

  “Then how do you know that she drinks tea from dainty little cups with her marmalade cat?”

  “I have seen this cat, yes? He has been in the store and in the place above and in the police station. He is a well-traveled beast.”

  “But Chloe’s teacups aren’t. They’re displayed on her counter. She has a whole collection depending on the day of the week or her mood. But you would only know that if you had been in her bungalow. Where you dropped the earring you were going to use to frame Daisy.”

  Daisy gasped, and her hands flew to her ears. “I thought you said I left them at home.”

  Inna shrugged. “That’s what you get when you treat people around you like servants. I am not servant.”

  “You’re not even an assistant, are you?” Arlo asked.

  “No,” she admitted. Arlo could see the burning light of truth in her eyes. “I am author.”

  A collective gasp went up around the ladies.

  “You wrote Missing Girl,” Arlo said “That’s why it reads like the person writing only knows English as a second language. Because they do. But why?”

  Inna shifted, seemed to debate how much to tell her. Finally she inhaled and let her breath out slowly. “You know how hard it is to get green card?” She shook her head. “No, of course you don’t. It’s hard. Very hard and I work and work and can’t keep my visa and no green card. And Wally he comes to me and says I will publish your book for you and split the money. We will make the big bucks. You won’t have to have a green card because no one will know it is you.” She shrugged in that elegant way she had. “It seemed like good idea at time. Not so much now.” She shrugged again.

  “Because he kept all the money.” It was beginning to make sense now. “But what about the earring? Why were you in Chloe’s bungalow?”

  “Because of the will.”

  Arlo frowned. “You knew about the will?” What was she saying? Inna seemed to know everything about Wally. She might not have been a good assistant—or even an assistant at all—but she was an expert when it came to all things Wally Harrison.

  “Of course. He was supposed to will the money to me. But instead he gave it to that brat.”

  “And you wanted to see who Chloe was?” So Inna and Wally’s connection was more than just the book. The affair was real after all.

  Again Inna did that shrugging thing that she did so well. “I wanted know who this person was who could bewitch my Wally, even ten years after.”

  Bewitch? Arlo wouldn’t say that. But Inna had an odd perspective for sure. “Well, it’s over now.”

  “No. It is not.” She dashed to the side and around Arlo, sprinting for her car. Well, as much as a woman wearing four-inch platform heels could sprint. Arlo’s slip-on house shoes weren’t much better for running. Still she managed to catch Inna before she could duck into the car. But she only got her by the hair.

  It must have hurt. Bad. Inna swung around and flung a hand out, connecting with Arlo’s left cheek. Pain shot all the way though her head and into her brain. Teeth were rattled, stars danced, but somehow Arlo managed to hang on. Without Inna, they had no proof that Chloe was innocent. There was no way she was letting her escape now.

  The sound of a police siren split the night. Just one big whoop, then it disappeared amid the blue-and-red flashing lights.

  Inna wilted, like a starched hanky in the noonday sun. She was limp, but Arlo couldn’t let go. Her fingers were entwined in the silky dark hair of the woman who had killed Wally J. Harrison.

 
; * * *

  “Ouch.” Arlo pressed the bag of frozen carrots to her cheek and winced. “This hurts.”

  “You’re lucky it’s not worse.”

  “It’s going to be.” She frowned at the bag of vegetables. “It’s supposed to be peas.”

  “Hush,” Helen said, though the word held no malice. “The main thing is that it’s cold.”

  “That’s another thing.” She shrugged out of the cover that someone had draped around her shoulders. “It’s sweltering out here.” May in Mississippi was no joke.

  “It’s to protect you from shock.” Camille said.

  “I’m not in shock.”

  Camille moved to place the blanket around Arlo, but she shifted before it touched her shoulders. Thankfully Camille took the hint.

  It had been less than an hour since Mads had pulled up with Sam right behind. They’d grabbed Inna, who was kicking and yelling in Russian or Ukrainian. Arlo didn’t know. Maybe both.

  She told them all how angry she was, how much she hated Daisy, and how her adoration for Wally had pushed her too far. He had laughed at her when she told him that she had poisoned him with mushrooms. It took weeks for the poison to take effect and if a person knew that they had ingested the mushrooms, there was an antidote. That was when she pushed him.

  “So the scarf that Nadine saw was really just Inna’s hair,” Helen mused.

  Arlo nodded.

  “That girl really should wear her glasses more,” Camille added.

  “The one reason you won’t see me in her chair,” Fern said.

  “I thought that was because you were too cheap to pay someone to do it.”

  “Pah.” Fern waved a hand as if Helen’s words held no weight. “I’m an old woman. Who cares what my hair looks like?”

  “I do,” Camille and Helen said at the same time.

  Arlo laughed. “Get your hair done on your own time. Let’s go get Chloe out of jail.”

  * * *

  “Are you going to tell me who hired you?” Arlo asked as she rode with Sam back to the police station.

  “Wally.”

  Maybe the last person she had suspected. “Wally?”

  “He knew something was up with Inna, and he was starting to wonder if Daisy was having an affair.”

  “So he changed his will,” she mused. “That way she wouldn’t be able to get the majority of his money. Inna’s money.”

  “If what she’s saying is true.”

  “Have you read the book?”

  Sam chuckled. “I’ve tried. It’s a little over this country boy’s head.”

  But she knew: Sam was a lot smarter than he let on. Always had been.

  “I don’t doubt what she says, but there’s no proof. Now she’s going to prison, and Jayden gets the money.” She stopped. “Why now? After all this time?” She didn’t have to explain further. He knew what she was saying.

  “I don’t know. Guilt maybe. Premonition. Sometimes it takes people a while to see where they’ve messed up. Maybe he just wanted to make things right.”

  “Maybe.” But Wally was gone, and they would never know his reasoning.

  Sam pulled his truck into the parking lot behind the police station and cut the engine.

  “Thanks for driving me.”

  “It was the least I could do since Helen wasn’t going to let you drive after your… What was it again?”

  “My traumatic encounter.”

  “Right.”

  They got out of the truck as Helen pulled up in her Smart Car. Fern hopped out and shook herself like a dog shaking off fleas. “Arghhh. That car. Makes me feel like a giant.”

  “Hush,” Helen countered. “It’s a great car.”

  “But not the least bit smart.”

  Camille had stayed at the inn with Daisy, who was still in shock over learning the true nature of a woman she had lived with for the past two years or more. Arlo couldn’t blame her. It was jarring news.

  “You didn’t have to come out here,” Arlo protested. She knew they wouldn’t turn around and go home. They were there to see this through. Arlo wasn’t sure that was a good thing or bad.

  “We’re here for you,” Helen said with an encouraging smile. Arlo wasn’t sure what it all meant, but she didn’t ask.

  Together they walked into the police station.

  Things worked a little differently in a small town. Mads had brought Inna in and had her in the holding cell. Tomorrow she supposed he would call the sheriff to come pick her up.

  Arlo stood with Sam, Helen, and Fern as they waited for Chloe to be released.

  “Come by tomorrow when you can. We’ll need you to sign a couple of papers. Frances will have them.”

  “Okay.” Chloe’s voice sounded hesitant and a little worried, as if she was wondering if Mads was going to take it all back before she could get out the door.

  Her face broke into a sweet smile as she came around the corner and saw them standing there.

  Arlo rushed to her friend and hugged her like there was no tomorrow. For a while there, she had been worried there might not be.

  Then Chloe began to shake.

  “Shhhh…” Arlo smoothed a hand down Chloe’s blond curls. “It’s okay now. You’re free.”

  She said something, but the words were lost in the tears and sobs.

  “Come on,” Arlo said. “Let’s take you home.”

  * * *

  In the end, they all wound up back at the inn. Everyone but Mads, who stayed at the station with Inna. He felt she needed supervision through the night.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Chloe said with a small nod at the blueberry-lemon coffee cake in the middle of the table. They had all gathered in the dining room, drinking coffee and eating. It was late, but they needed to add a normal moment to the night to help get everything back on track.

  Daisy twisted her hands together. “I bake when I get upset. Well, I want to. I usually don’t. Sometimes I bake and give it to the neighbors. I don’t know why I’m saying all this.” She shook her head.

  Helen covered her hand with her own. “You’ve had quite a week yourself.”

  She nodded. “I suppose. It’s just…” She looked up to Chloe. “I’m sorry about what I said at the reading of the will. I didn’t know Wally had a son. He never mentioned it. Not once in all these years. But your son, he deserves the money that the book’s brought in.”

  “Thank you,” Chloe said. She wrapped her hands around her mug of tea as if she needed to absorb all the warmth she could.

  “Make sure he has money for college,” Daisy continued. “Please.”

  “Of course.” With the money Wally had brought in on Missing Girl, there would be money for college and beyond.

  “I guess I’ll go home in the morning, if that’s okay.”

  Helen smiled. “Okay? It’s fine, but you know you don’t have to leave at all.”

  Daisy frowned. “You mean stay here, in Sugar Springs?”

  “Yep. Why not?”

  There was no reason except small-town life wasn’t for everyone. And a person like Daisy seemed to belong in the city. Though Arlo had to remind herself, she had come from humble beginnings.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I could always use help here and with your baking skills…”

  “Everyone who bakes in town is going to want to hire you,” Arlo added.

  “Hey.” Chloe pretended to be hurt. “Seriously though. This is a great cake. You whipped it up like a ninja.”

  “I suppose I could bake.” The idea seemed completely foreign to Daisy. “I’ll think about it. But for now.” She stood. “I’m going to bed. Thank you for being so kind to me even after everything.”

  Fern frowned, or maybe it was a smile; with her it was hard to tell. “It ain’t y
our fault. And Sugar Springs could always use another resident.”

  Daisy nodded and moved toward the stairs. Arlo wondered if she would take Helen up on the offer or even go to work for the grocery store bakery. With the money she got from Wally’s death, she might even be able to open a bakery of her own right there on Main Street.

  “Good night,” they called, then turned back to their warm drinks and cake.

  “I hope she stays,” Fern said.

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  “What? A person can’t be nice to a down-and-out stranger?”

  “Sure they can,” Camille said.

  “We just didn’t expect it from you,” Helen finished.

  * * *

  “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Chloe said the following morning at ten. Arlo had told her that she didn’t have to work the day after she had been released from jail, but she said she wanted things to go back to normal as quickly as possible.

  “Hi. Yes, it is a beautiful morning.”

  “Sam is on the third floor. He said he was renting it from you for his business. My cat is up there with him, but the poor baby is so scared he won’t even come out for me.”

  Arlo started to answer, but Chloe plowed on. “Helen called and said she was bringing magic bars and one-pot spaghetti. When I asked her for what, she laughed and said, ‘book club.’ Like that was supposed to mean something to me.” She stopped polishing the cups and glasses she had rewashed that morning. “So?”

  “Yes, I leased the third floor to Sam. He agreed to keep Auggie, but the cat has been a bit traumatized since you went to jail. It may take him a little time to adjust. And the Friday night book club has decided to meet here every day for lunch. Oh, and Sam comes down for that too.” Arlo smiled. “Welcome back.”

  Epilogue

  “Now that I know that Inna wrote this book, I like it better,” Camille said.

  “You like it better because a murderer wrote it?” Fern pinned her with a hard stare.

  “Not that, but I can see Inna in this book. Wally, not so much.”

  “There’s a town in there just like Sugar Springs,” Helen pointed out. “Do you think he meant to set up this town as in the one in the book?”

  Arlo shrugged. “Who knows?”