Hollyberry Homicide

by Sharon Farrow

  “Everett seems to have meant a great deal to you. Why didn’t you marry him?”

  “I caught glimpses of the man he might have been. But he was in his forties when I met him. And the cold, indifferent mask he hid behind was becoming impenetrable.” She sighed. “It was too late. Everett was not a man who believed in happiness.”

  “You might have been able to change him. After all, he proposed to you.”

  “Not out of love. He wasn’t capable of love. But Everett did like and trust me. Something very rare for him. The proposal was a way to stop me from leaving. Instead, it convinced me to look for another job. Also I didn’t love Everett. Instead, I felt pity for him. Which is why I’ve insisted the man have a memorial service.” She took a deep breath. “He was my friend.”

  That prompted us to continue our way to the second floor, where the assistant curator took Diane aside. As I entered the meeting room, the scent of roses overwhelmed me. When I saw the white roses placed behind the podium, I wondered how Andrew had delivered the floral arrangements by himself; they were as oversized as Piper’s Christmas tree.

  As for attendees, I recognized the employees of the historical museum, along with most of the volunteers. Various board members mingled by the coffee urn. What Gareth had dubbed “the unholy trio” stood in the corner, deep in conversation.

  Janelle noticed me first. Was she really a dishonest cop? If so, that made her dangerous. At least she had changed out of her uniform. Although her dark brown tunic top and pants gave off a paramilitary vibe.

  Her unfriendly stare caused Katrina and Anthony to turn around. Anthony glowered, but Katrina walked over to me. Garbed in a plum cashmere wrap dress and matching suede knee-high boots, Katrina was the best-dressed person in the room. The sparkle from her crescent earrings led me to suspect the gems were real diamonds. Along with the tennis bracelet on her right wrist. I wondered if these were jewels she’d gotten from manipulating a client.

  “Marlee, how kind of you to attend Everett’s service.”

  “I told you earlier I planned to come.”

  “Yes. As a favor to Diane. Naturally, I look on it as a favor to me as well.”

  “Because you and Everett were once husband and wife?”

  “Of course. I’m still recovering from the shock of his death.”

  This seemed an extreme statement. “I assumed your spirit guides would have given you a heads-up. And he was almost a hundred years old. How shocked could you be?”

  Irritation flickered across her face. “As shocked as you were about a dead squirrel.”

  I wondered how she knew about the squirrel until I remembered Natasha had plans to meet Katrina that morning. A meeting delayed due to our visit to the police.

  “It seems Natasha told you about the squirrel.”

  “She did. I feel you’ve become too affected by finding Everett’s body. You must release your energy from his. It will only bring you harm.”

  “Why should Everett’s energy harm me?” I asked.

  “Energy is powerful, especially that of the recently deceased.” Her pageant smile returned. “That’s why I returned to your house with Natasha and disposed of the squirrel.”

  “What?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You had no right to do that.”

  “I’m a sensitive. I had a responsibility to remove a dead animal that caused you such unnecessary concern.”

  “What if the police want to test the squirrel to see it if died from poison?” I fought an impulse to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.

  “Be reasonable. The police aren’t interested in a dead squirrel. Now that the squirrel is gone, it should no longer interest you either.”

  “I’m surprised the squirrel interested you. Unless you think it’s wise to destroy evidence.”

  “Evidence?” She shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I stopped you from becoming obsessed about the squirrel’s death. And Everett’s.”

  “My obsessions are none of your concern. And Natasha should not have let you dispose of anything on my property. I’ll speak to her about that. As I’m speaking to you now.”

  “Is that a warning?”

  “You’re the psychic. What does your sixth sense tell you?”

  “I sense you are making things difficult for yourself. Possibly even dangerous.”

  “Is that a warning?” I repeated her own question.

  She shrugged.

  “By the way, how did Everett’s sister take the news of your marriage? It must have come as a great surprise to learn her elderly brother had at last taken a bride. A child bride, too.”

  Katrina looked at me for a long moment. I didn’t want to be the first to blink, but couldn’t help it. She had the gaze of a cheerful Medusa. “Due to the age difference, Sarah was shocked at first. But she came to trust me. And I did my best to help her.”

  “With feng shui and messages from the dead? Did you organize her closets, too?”

  Several people noisily entered the room. The service would start any moment.

  “Now you sound like Piper. And I thought we were becoming friends. I see I was wrong. All because of a silly squirrel. I was right to get rid of it.”

  I watched as Katrina returned to Janelle and Anthony, where they huddled once more. Were the three of them allies? Maybe even friends?

  Diane marched to the podium at the front of the room. Everyone took a seat on one of the folding chairs that had been set up. The assistant curator lit the many candles placed about the meeting room. Once another museum employee shut off the lights, a nondescript meeting room became a place of shadow and mystery.

  I sat in the last row, mercifully empty. As Diane led us in a prayer, I regretted coming here. I didn’t know Everett. What I had learned about him gave me no reason to like the man.

  Despite my parka, I shivered from the chill. It was almost as cold up here as in the Calico Barn basement. I should also have worn a much thicker turtleneck sweater. And I regretted changing into my favorite pewter-gray skirt. It left my knees exposed.

  As Diane read Psalm 25, I went over Gareth’s drunken revelations. The cold, avaricious Everett apparently had a change of heart nine years ago when his sister died. A death he and Katrina may have caused.

  I thought about the lines I had memorized from A Christmas Carol. Jacob Marley visited his miserly business partner to warn him how greed and selfishness resulted in a miserable, lonely life. Had Everett viewed himself as a modern-day Jacob Marley and forced Janelle, Anthony, and Katrina to change their lives? It explained why he felt an affinity for the role.

  A tap on the shoulder made me jump. I swiveled about and met the suspicious gaze of Anthony Thorne.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

  “At the moment, I’m trying to listen to Diane pay tribute to your uncle.”

  “He doesn’t deserve any tributes and you know it.”

  Deciding to ignore him, I faced forward as Diane read from a book of poetry.

  Anthony pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. Now I wished I hadn’t sat in an empty row. I didn’t enjoy being this close to Anthony. Now that I was, I realized he and Janelle shared a family resemblance. The cousins had wide mouths, thin lips, and alarming overbites.

  “I heard you had dinner with the family lawyer tonight,” he whispered.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “The next time you get together, remind him that the three of us won’t wait forever to see what my uncle’s will says. And not just us.” He pointed at Diane. “She wants to know, too.”

  “Maybe all of you should hire your own lawyer.”

  Attendees glanced over their shoulders at us.

  “If Gareth has acted illegally by not filing the will,” I continued in a lower voice, “then take the necessary steps to force him to.”

  “Oh, we plan to force his hand. Gareth doesn’t have my uncle to protect him any longer.”

  This didn’t sound as if they were considering legal action.
“I don’t know Gareth well. But it seems like he’s just playing a game.”

  “A game?” Anthony barked, causing Diane to pause in her reading.

  “Shhh. In my opinion, Gareth is gleeful about making everyone wait to learn what’s in the will. I’m sure he’ll eventually file it or do whatever he’s supposed to do next.” I gave Anthony a weary look. “And I wouldn’t be too worried. Since you’re Everett’s nephew, I’m sure you’re in his will.”

  “Really? Have you become a psychic, too?”

  “There are enough psychics in this room. We don’t need another.” My throat felt scratchy, I was cold, and I regretted coming here rather than making those cornflake hollyberry cookies. I also wanted to kick myself for not stopping at the Calico Barn to pick up my costume. I was running out of time to have it cleaned.

  “We don’t need outsiders interfering in family business,” he whispered in my ear.

  “I agree. Now leave me alone. And tell Moe and Larry up there to do the same.”

  He stood up, causing the chair to scrape loudly. Everyone looked over at us again. In another moment, I expected us to be asked to leave. After he walked away, I wondered if Everett had left the bulk of his fortune to Diane, and none to the “unholy trio.” It would serve them right if he had.

  Diane sat down and a board member took her place at the podium. When he began to read a lengthy passage from C. S. Lewis, I decided to sneak out. My attendance felt unnecessary. And it was still early enough to make those cookies, especially since I might have a hard time sleeping tonight if my sore throat got worse. I had to nip this in the bud. Suzanne would kill me if I backed out because of illness. And Gillian would never stop attributing it to the curse.

  After I crept back down to the main floor, my glance fell on the bench where Everett had died. Lost in the shadows, it looked forbidding.

  I wondered if Katrina sensed the presence of spirits here. At the moment, I felt as if I did. It wouldn’t take much to imagine the ghost of Everett Hostetter slumped over on that bench, determined to bring his killer to justice. Thank goodness, it wasn’t my responsibility to do that.

  Even so, I’d done my best to find out what really happened to him. It irritated me that Katrina got rid of the squirrel. At least I’d handed over the rest of the evidence to the police. I’d also pass on the information Gareth gave me about Janelle and Katrina to Kit. But I wouldn’t blame him for taking Gareth’s drunken ramblings with a grain of salt.

  I heard a creak in the rear of the museum, followed by the tinkle of glass.

  Because the museum formerly housed an 1896 inn, I knew there was a kitchen in the back. A kitchen the museum used to make coffee, tea, and various foods for events. No one had come downstairs since I left the service. I could hear the drone of voices overhead. If it was a ghost, it was a noisy one.

  However, I should check out the kitchen to make certain a toy train burglar hadn’t snuck in. The remaining rooms downstairs had no illumination whatsoever, and I bumped into more than one display table of trains. At least when I reached the back of the house, light from the kitchen made the rest of my progress easier.

  I entered the farmhouse-style kitchen to see Odette Henderson poking about in one of the cupboards. Odette owned Lakeshore Holiday, a downtown store specializing in seasonal decor.

  “Hi, Odette.”

  She smiled. “Hey, Marlee.” Odette not only physically resembled Oprah, she possessed her orotund voice. “I thought I heard someone bumping their way in the dark.”

  “Diane should turn on a few lights when the museum is closed. What are you doing down here?”

  “I’m a board member. We were ordered to show up for the memorial. This whole thing was so last-minute, too. None of us needs an extra thing on our plates during Christmas week.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. And I still have to make cookies for the store tonight.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Diane asked me.” I wondered if I should elaborate. “And I agreed with her that Everett’s death is a little suspicious.”

  “Is it?” Odette rummaged about in the cupboard. “I’ve been expecting him to kick off for years now. At last. Here’s what I’m looking for.”

  She held up a large plastic bag of hard candies.

  “Is the candy that good?”

  “I have a sore throat and forgot to bring lozenges.” She unwrapped a candy and popped it in her mouth.

  “Must be something going around. My throat started to feel scratchy about an hour ago.”

  She held out the bag and I took one. Odette was right. As soon as the butterscotch flavor hit my throat, it felt better. “Thanks. I love butterscotch.”

  “Diane has an entire cupboard filled with hard candy. She puts them out in bowls for visitors.” Odette took a small white paper bag from an upper shelf. “Take some for the road.”

  She poured a couple dozen candies into a bag and handed it to me.

  I stared at the bag. “When I found Everett’s body in the museum, he’d been eating a gingerbread cookie. A cookie placed in a paper bag exactly like this.”

  “The museum keeps bags here for special events, like the opening of the train exhibit. The board always budgets for snacks, and that includes small bags and napkins.”

  “I don’t remember gingerbread cookies being offered during the exhibit opening.”

  “That’s because there weren’t any.” She pointed at a piece of paper taped to another cupboard door. “Here’s a list of the sweets laid out last Wednesday. No gingerbread cookies. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen gingerbread cookies offered at the museum since the gingerbread-house exhibit five years ago.”

  “I didn’t know the museum kept bags like this.”

  Odette shrugged. “Half the food shops in town have white paper bags like these. Along with the food-vendor trucks for this weekend’s festival.”

  “But where did the gingerbread cookies come from if the museum didn’t lay them out?”

  “Visitors bring all sorts of things into the museum they shouldn’t. Just like they do in our shops. Last week, a customer came into Lakeshore Holiday eating a cheeseburger from the diner.” She put the bags and candy back in the cupboard.

  “What did you think of Everett Hostetter?”

  “Not much. As a board member, he attended meetings and always sat next to Diane, making notes. Believe me, nothing happened in this museum without his approval and input. And everyone jumped to do his bidding.”

  “But you didn’t like him.”

  “Did anyone, aside from Diane?” Odette raised a skeptical eyebrow at me.

  “He probably thought it didn’t matter. Not with all the money he had.”

  Odette leaned against the counter. “Then it’s a good thing he died when he did. Before he was no longer the richest man in the room.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I forget most people don’t follow business news and the stock market as avidly as I do.” Before she retired, Odette had written a business column for a newspaper in Chicago.

  “Everett sold his companies,” I said. “It shouldn’t matter what the stock market does.”

  “It’s more complicated than that. After the last buyout, the majority of Everett’s wealth lay in company shares. That was an integral part of the buyout agreement. And the company has been in steep decline the past two years for all sorts of reasons: competition from China, tariffs, upper-management conflict.”

  “You’re saying his fortune was diminishing?”

  “Rapidly. The company is in major financial trouble. Whoever his heirs are should count themselves lucky. In a year or two, they might have inherited next to nothing.”

  My mouth fell open. “I had no idea.”

  “No reason you should. Unless you’re a business junkie like me.”

  “So Everett’s death is good news for whoever is his primary beneficiary in the will.”

  “Extremely good news. Whoever inherits will come into a
fortune. And I’m assuming that person is his nephew. Who else would it be?”

  It appeared Odette didn’t know about Janelle’s or Katrina’s connection to Everett. “He and Diane were friends. It’s possible he left money for the museum.”

  “Oh, I would be shocked if the museum didn’t get a financial bequest. I only wonder how much.” Odette chuckled. “Funnily enough, I discussed this very thing with Diane after our last board meeting. After Everett had left, of course. Told her the gravy train the museum had been riding on might come to a halt sometime soon. As you can imagine, that made her anxious.”

  “I’m sure it did,” I murmured.

  Odette shrugged. “I thought it might be a good thing. Force the board to reach out to other wealthy donors in the area. It’s never wise to put all your financial eggs in one basket. And in Everett’s case, a most unfriendly basket. Now it all depends on the will.”

  “Gareth Holmes mentioned the will to me. Only he and Everett knew the contents. But Gareth didn’t file the will. He’s still got it somewhere. And I have no idea how long he plans to keep it to himself. He also said Everett hid his copy of the will.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Amusing, in a sardonic way.”

  “His likely heirs aren’t amused,” I remarked.

  “No doubt. They’re probably on the hunt for the will.”

  “The strange thing is, I have a pretty good idea where the will might be.”

  “If you do, let Diane know. She won’t rest until the museum’s financial future is secured.”

  I held up my hand. “Shhh. I heard something.”

  “It’s the building. The floors creak like clockwork. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if Diane sent someone to look for me.” Odette smoothed her blazer. “Are you coming?”

  “No. I attended as much of the memorial as I care to.”

  “I hear you.” Odette gave me a wink, then hurried out.

  I was glad I left the service early. How else would I have learned that the museum stocked the same bags Everett’s cookies had been in. More important, Odette answered a question that had nagged at me. Why would anyone murder a ninety-five-year-old man?