“You have a very good way of conveying information about a person’s character and behavior, which is helpful.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Cicely replied, but she appeared to be pondering something.
At this point, I felt Melody could easily have provoked violence from any number of people. During a conflict in a less formal setting, she might even have thrown the first punch. I was about to say thanks and leave when Cicely’s head snapped up.
“There is someone the police should add to the suspect list. A man barged into the rehearsal room not long ago when I was giving Melody a pep talk about showing up on time. He was livid because Melody was keeping him waiting. Melody was startled by his arrival. She asked the blankety-blank how he got into the tunnels and found her. Before she gave him a chance to respond, she blamed me for detaining her.”
“Did he turn on you?” I asked.
“No, in fact, he told Melody I probably had a good reason to do it and to quit passing the buck,” Cicely replied. “Then he used almost the same words I’d spoken before he arrived: ‘It’s polite to call when you’re going to be late for an appointment.’”
“He couldn’t have been employed at Marvelous Marley World or Melody wouldn’t have questioned him about getting access to the tunnels. Did you get a name, or can you describe him?” I asked.
“Melody called him Duke I believe. Yes, that was it. I remember because it was such an odd name—more like a nickname. As for his appearance, he was older than most of the people we hire to work in the park. And he was much better dressed. I can see him clearly, standing there in an expensive suit with a silk pocket square and gold cuff links. The executives around here don’t usually dress that well. Not you, Georgie. Or Max.” Cicely glanced at me when she said that.
“Don’t worry. I understand what you’re getting at,” I said as reassuringly as I could. “You would notice because you’re very well-dressed.”
“When I grew up, it was a sign of respect.”
“You’ve got it right about Max. He dresses like he just stepped out of a magazine,” Carol said, and then muttered “The Southern Male Dandy edition of GQ.”
“Max does sometimes remind me of a modern-day Truman Capote or Tom Wolfe,” I added, smiling.
“I’m quite certain he’d prefer Mark Twain,” Cicely added.
“Or Colonel Sanders,” Carol joked. Her hand sprang to her mouth. “You won’t tell him I said that, will you?”
“Our lips are sealed.” I zipped my mouth shut as we all had a laugh. The tension that had built up in the room evaporated.
“Duke, whoever he was, mentioned someone named Ernie. He wanted to know what was up with Ernie and Melody grew testier saying it was none of his business, he had no right to confront her at work, and should go ask Ernie.”
“That’s helpful,” I said, without adding that we knew who Ernie was. I bet Jack could persuade him to give Duke up. “Apart from Duke’s dress, what else do you recall about his appearance?”
“I’d say he was middle-aged with dark hair just beginning to grey. He had a prominent, square jaw that clenched when Melody told him to go away. Duke was rugged looking despite the refined clothes, haircut, and manicured nails.”
“By rugged, do you mean outdoorsy or more like an ex-boxer?” Carol asked putting up both fists like a prizefighter.
“Hmm. He was average height with a stocky, athletic build. His complexion was rough as if he’d had bad acne as a teen. There was a small scar over his eye, and his hands were huge with stubby fingers.” Cicely paused to reflect for a moment. “I suppose he could have been a boxer. That fits better than any image of him hunting, on horseback, or playing tennis.”
“We shouldn’t take up any more of your time. I can’t thank you enough for the information you’ve given us. The police will want to speak to you and go over most of what we covered today. If you remember anything else, please call me anytime.”
“I’ll gladly speak to them. When Melody told Duke to get out before she called security to throw him out, he took a step toward her. I was about to reach for the phone when he said, ‘No problem. I’ll catch you later.’ At the time, I was relieved it was over. Now that she’s dead, it seems more threatening given the menacing tone in his voice. Melody was still huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolf, but I could tell she was afraid.”
“Did you suggest she call the police or report the incident to anyone?”
“I did, and she told me to stay out of it. I told her if he showed up again, I’d report him myself.” As Cicely stood, her eyes roamed the photos from her past. “It’s nice that you care enough to want to help find justice for Melody. Despite a wealth of musical talent, some peoples’ lives always seem off-key and out of tune.”
“Yes,” Carol whispered. “They can do lots of damage to other people before it catches up with them.”
Carol had to be thinking about the circumstances surrounding her beloved godmother’s murder. A dancer rather than a singer, her life was ended by someone whose life had been as discordant and ‘off-key’ as Melody’s. Carol and Cicely locked eyes, and a wave of something like recognition passed through them. Cicely stepped from behind her desk and embraced Carol. Then she hugged me and walked us to the elevator.
“Blessings to you both,” she called after us as the doors slid shut.
13 A Chorus of Reproach
When we reached the surface, the elevator door opened, and a wave of noise slammed into us. One of Crawdaddy Louis’ large claws almost whacked me. I stepped back in time to avoid direct contact but felt the whoosh of wind from the near-miss.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Bubba’s on my tail!” The young man in the crawfish suit added, switching into character. He also stepped aside, let us out, and his alligator assailant came into view.
“You call that a tail?” Bubba responded.
“You ornery cuss, you’re all bellow and no bite.”
“My ancestors were dragons. I’m full of fire when I need to be.”
“You’re full of somethin’, all right, but it’s not fire. You may get spittin’ mad, but a dragon with no fire is no dragon at all.”
There was likely to be more, but the elevator door slid shut as the two theme park characters took our place in the empty elevator. Once the door shut, the panels fit together, creating a seamless image of a mural. Gone was any indication that an elevator existed.
“You’ve gotten faster at avoiding collisions since Friday night,” Carol remarked as she searched the seating in the Bayou Bay Shrimp Shack. A wonderful aroma came from the open kitchen.
“Can you blame me? All I need is to go home with a fat lip.” Carol laughed. “I promised Jack I’d be careful.”
“I would love to have seen his face when you explained Crawdaddy Louis gave you the fat lip,” she added. Then she waved. “That’s Jenny Ridell. Brett gave me her description, and when I set up our lunch meeting, I asked her to wear Mardi Gras beads.”
“That was clever,” I said as Jenny walked toward us.
“Hi, Carol,” Jenny said. “I reserved a table for us in a corner, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect! I’m Georgie. Thanks for agreeing to meet with us.”
“Thank you for lunch. Team members sample what’s on the menu, but I’ve never been a guest before. If you have questions about the menu, I can answer them for you.” Then Jenny closed her mouth and blushed. “Sorry, I don’t have to tell the head of Food and Beverage about the menu, do I?”
“Yes, you do. I don’t get in the park often enough to keep up with what’s on the menus at the restaurants. What’s your favorite?” I asked as she relaxed and led us to the table that she’d chosen for us.
“I love the dirty rice. I’ve tried to cook it at home, but I’m missing something. They serve it to us in the team café sometimes.” She sat down and picked up a menu. Carol and I did the same. “The rice is great as a main dish with a side of greens and cornbread or the Cajun hushpuppies.
Those are so good. Some guests order the rice as a side dish for their chicken or shrimp dishes.”
“Hey, Jenny,” a server said as she poured water for us. “Living it up today, huh? Is this family?”
“Brenda, this is Georgie Shaw, Director of the Food and Beverage Division, and her Executive Assistant, Carol Ripley.”
“Nice to meet you, Brenda,” I said. The young woman glanced sideways at Jenny and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. Welcome, Ms. Ripley and Ms. Shaw.”
“Thanks. You know, it’s Carol and Georgie,” I said. Carol smiled broadly and nodded in agreement with me.
“I do,” Brenda responded, pulling the stylus from the order pad she carried.
“Carol has a pair of those shoes you’re wearing. Are they as comfortable as she says they are?” Then Carol stuck out a foot, and almost kicked our server.
“Oops! Glad I missed you,” Carol said making Brenda laugh. “That’s the second near-miss we’ve had in minutes. Crawdaddy Louis almost walloped Georgie with one of his pincers.”
“Isn’t he funny? He and Bubba have been in here entertaining us. We tell them which guests are eating a Seafood Louis salad, gator bites, or a shrimp and crawfish sandwich. They pay them a visit and tease them about eating someone they knew—mourning the gator or mourning the crawfish or some such nonsense. I’ve seen what they do a dozen times, and they can still make me laugh.”
“We caught a few seconds of their act before they took the elevator downstairs,” I said. I made a mental note to thank all these great young people for their good humor. I should get into the park more often since it’s such an energizing experience.
“Can I bring you drinks while you decide what you’d like to eat?”
“Sure,” I said. Brenda took our drink orders as I opened the tablet computer that I’d brought with me to take notes. For some reason, it was as if a light went on. Brenda looked at me and then at Jenny.
“Oh my gosh. This is about you know who, isn’t it?” Brenda asked in a hushed tone. Jenny nodded. “Is it true? Did someone murder Jackie, I mean Melody?”
It was my turn to look from one young woman to the other. Jenny shook her head.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t tell her. Carol told me to keep it quiet. The reason I asked Brenda to serve us is that she’d already heard about what had happened. Brenda was in school while Melody was still there too. That’s before Melody was Melody and just Jackie…uh, you know what I’m getting at, don’t you?”
“We do, which is why we wanted to buy you lunch,” I replied, and then I spoke to Brenda.
“Brenda, why don’t you see if you can join us for dessert? If I need to speak to your supervisor, I will. Just tell her it’s Georgie asking for a favor, okay?”
Brenda’s only reply was a somber nod.
“She’ll understand,” Jenny added. “I told her you wanted to have lunch to ask me about a team member I used to know before we both worked here. She assumed it was an issue with references or something to do with a promotion. I let her think that, and then asked if Brenda could be our server because she knew the person too.”
“That was smooth,” Carol said and gave Jenny a fist bump. That got a smile from Jenny and Brenda.
“I’ll ask her, and I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Brenda said, scurrying away. Excitement had quickly replaced her somber tone.
“How did Brenda hear about what happened to Melody?” I asked.
“It’s all over the Team Talk chat line and the story kind of came out in pieces. Someone was at a party Friday night and said there had been a murder. Another person said it was a bigwig party, and then someone else mentioned that a singer in Arts and Entertainment was killed and told everyone what party it was and who was dead.” Jenny paused as if wondering whether to tell us what came next. “This is awful, but when Melody’s name came up, there were several comments posted saying she got what she deserved. That’s one thing I wanted to tell you, but I don’t want to sound too mean.”
“It wasn’t you who made the comments,” Carol said, reassuringly. “Do you know who it was?”
“No. We don’t use names—not our real names, anyway. People are paranoid about how secure the site is from company snoops. The names people use are usually funny with lots of versions of Cat Servant, Tunnel Denizen, or if you work around here, Bayou Babe.” Jenny looked at me and I suppressed a snicker. “I’m not going to get anyone in trouble, am I?”
“I work at the cat factory too. Cat servant fits my role at home even better. I should have warned our detective friends that the backstage chatter would spread the word fast.” I paused, thinking about what we’d just learned. “I’m not sure I understand how word got around that there was an incident at the party when it was over by the time the murder was discovered,” I said.
“Maybe someone listens to the police radio,” Carol suggested.
“That could be it, guess, although the first post was from someone claiming to have been at a party Friday night where there was a murder. That sounds more like a team member who was at the event.”
“Maybe one of the valets hung around long enough to get the scoop,” Carol added. “What I don’t get is how word got around by today about the identity of our canary in the canal.”
“Good point,” I said, although given how many people affiliated with the company were at the party, leaks were inevitable. Now that the police had interviewed many of the guests, even those who’d left the party early knew Melody was murdered.
Jenny was following our conversation, intently. She glanced back and forth at Carol and me as we took turns speaking. Suddenly, her face brightened.
“Canary in the canal—I get it!” Jenny said as Brenda returned with our drinks.
“It’s all set. I’ll join you for dessert. Have you decided what you want for lunch?”
“If you can ward off Crawdaddy Louis, I’ll have the Seafood Louis salad. Bring us an order of hush puppies as an appetizer, please.”
“He and Bubba are on their lunch break. They’ll mingle with the crowd outside before they come back in here again.” Brenda leaned in and lowered her voice. “Donna, my supervisor, will make sure no one is seated near us.”
“Great!” Carol said. “I want to try the gator bites as an appetizer since Bubba won’t be around to fight me for them. I should eat the salad like Georgie, but I’ll have the gumbo instead.”
“Dirty rice, right, Jenny?” Jenny nodded. “With a side of greens, I know—crawdads or shrimp too?”
“No, I’m saving room for dessert.” Once Brenda left, I asked Jenny why people thought Melody got what she deserved.
It was like listening to a chorus of reproach. Most grievances about Melody were similar to those Cicely had mentioned. Melody had let people down by not showing up after trying to be helpful by swapping shifts with her. Melody had stolen boyfriends or spread gossip that broke up relationships. Thankfully, Jenny spared us the more sordid details about the hateful things she said to the guys she dumped or the women who objected to her behavior. Apparently, she had plenty of them if the police wanted to hear more.
“That’s news,” I said when Jenny mentioned that Melody had pulled what she called “pranks” on her coworkers. After she’d described some of them, my inner schoolmarm harrumphed. “They don’t sound funny to me. Putting laxatives or hot sauce in someone’s drink could be dangerous.”
“Engineering ‘costume failures’ isn’t funny if you’re the one with the pants that slip down,” Carol agreed. “Putting sugar or anything else in a musical instrument is vandalism, not a joke. Did anyone ever report her?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know for sure. Once I switched to the job here in Bayou Adventureland, I was pretty much out of the loop. I saw her in the tunnels a few times, but she ignored me. We did have a confrontation once.” Jenny shut up when Brenda brought us our meals and went through the server spiel before leaving again.
“What happened during the confrontation?�
� I asked.
“It wasn’t long after I’d transferred here from Versailles Veranda. I was alone in the tunnel when Melody stepped from an elevator and rushed toward me. ‘If you ever call me Jackie again, I’ll make you pay. It’s Melody Monroe, got it?’ When I tried to say something, she stepped close and put a finger over my lips. ‘Not another word. You don’t know me, remember?’ That was it.”
“We know her real name. Well, we know what it used to be before she had it legally changed.”
“Did Jack tell you that?” Carol asked. “He’s certain?”
“Yes, he can tell you more about it over dinner.”
“Georgie is sleeping with one of the detectives on the case,” Carol said as Jenny’s eyes widened. “She’ll do anything to get to the bottom of things when a cat factory coworker is murdered.”
“Stop it! The chat room will be full of rumors about me next.” Carol smirked as I told Jenny the truth.
“Carol is coming to dinner tonight to speak with my husband. He’s a detective, and Max volunteered him, along with me, as extra help during the investigation.”
“I’ve heard Max Marley has a way of getting what he wants. The chitchat about Melody said Max had plans for her. That could be one reason no one squealed on her,” Jenny commented.
“What you heard about Max is true in a purely professional sense, I can assure you,” I said, worrying that my fears about Melody’s flirting and fawning over Max had drawn him into reproach along with her. “That doesn’t mean he would retaliate against anyone who reported her for what I’d say is abuse.”
“Maybe that’s why Melody was so angry that I called her Jackie in front of a man she was sitting with at Versailles Veranda, even though she didn’t seem angry at the time. Melody could wiggle out of trouble when she put her mind to it. That’s one of the things she was good at when she was still Jackie,” Jenny commented.
“I want to hear more about what she was like when you knew her years ago,” I said, “but before we move on, do you have any idea who she was having lunch with that day?”
A Canary in the Canal Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #8 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series) Page 12
