Normally Gus, would be able to verify this with the lawyer, but she couldn’t do that in this case. She’d just have to hope that Winters had already figured this out and was doing the checking. Still, she could ask a few questions to find out more. “You said you came upon the crime scene after punching out of work. Were you there all morning?”
Kevin nodded. “I worked the early shift at the tinsel factory. My shift had just ended, and I was walking home when I saw the crowd.”
“See?” Wanda said. “If he was at work all morning, then he couldn’t be the killer. I mean, I assume someone would have had to have given the poison to Wanda that morning shortly before she died.”
Gus’s gaze swiveled to Wanda. “That’s right. And she did get food from this café.”
“That’s preposterous! I certainly couldn’t have killed her. I was busy with the morning rush at that time.” Wanda gestured around the room. “And, as you can see, I don’t have any fresh herbs, much less fresh hemlock.”
“Yeah. I saw her. She was busy with customers.” Belinda, who had been watching with evident interest, chimed in. “By the way, I have to get back to the milking barn if you guys are done here.”
“We’ll be done in a sec.” Gus turned back to Wanda. “You could have gotten fresh hemlock from somewhere else.” But where? “Either one of you could be growing them at home.”
Wanda sighed. “If I could grow stuff at home, don’t you think I’d grow the herbs for my café there? But, as you can see, I have to resort to dried herbs.”
“Yeah. You can check our houses.” Kevin frowned. “Wait a minute. Why are we telling you this? You’re not the police. And you can’t check our houses. What are you even doing here?”
“Just following up. I’m the sheriff in Mystic Notch, New Hampshire,” Gus said, omitting the fact that she really wasn’t on any official capacity here.
They both looked skeptical, and she figured she’d better make her exit. She’d gotten everything she could out of them, anyway. Disappointment bloomed—she didn’t think either Wanda or Kevin was the killer, but if not, then where did that leave her?
Chapter 9
After dropping Belinda off, Ivy and Gus sat in Ivy’s car outside the cider shop and watched the lights come on in the Christmas trees as twilight approached. Darkness fell early in Christmas Village, which added to the ambiance. The tiny twinkling lights glowed more brightly, and the warm yellow light spilling from the shop windows seemed cozier after dark. But Gus knew everything wasn’t cozy—a killer still walked the streets.
“Do you think they were lying?” Ivy asked.
Gus watched her breath steam up the window. “I’m not sure. Why would they kill Vicky and not just have Kevin divorce her? If what Kevin said about her not having money is true, there would be no reason to kill her.”
“What if he was lying?” Ivy asked
“Unfortunately, we don’t have the resources to dig into their finances.”
Ivy frowned. “They did seem sincere, though.”
Gus snorted as she opened the car door. “I’ve seen killers lie sincerely before.”
“I suppose. So now what? We just give up? Wait for Winters to do something to check out their stories and then act on what she finds?”
Gus assumed Winters would be checking this all out. She and Noel would be able to get the proper warrants. Gus didn’t have time to wait around for that to happen, and besides, she didn’t think Wanda and Kevin were the killers.
Gus shook her head. “I don’t want to just give up, but I’m not sure what to do next.”
“Maybe we should practice. We’re playing at the North Pole Lounge again tonight, right?” Ivy asked.
“Good idea.” Gus got out of the car, then leaned in the passenger side window to talk to Ivy. “Maybe if we take our minds off of the case by practicing our music, something will bubble up from our subconscious.”
“Hello there! How did it go?”
Gus turned to see Mary Dunn standing next to her on the sidewalk. She was holding a large bag with wrapped presents sticking out of the top. “Thanks for taking Belinda to the café. I took the opportunity to do some shopping.”
“You’re welcome.”
She came closer to Gus and whispered, “I haven’t heard anything. Did you manage to find the poison?”
Ivy had gotten out of the car to join in the conversation, and she and Gus shook their heads. “No. In fact, the husband claims to have an alibi, and Wanda says she was busy with other customers and didn’t even wait on Vicky, though she does admit Vicky was there.”
Mary nodded, pressing her lips together. “Well, I assume they would say that. Wouldn’t they?”
“I’m sure they’ve told Detective Winters the same story. I suspect she’ll check up on all that.” Gus shrugged. “Funny thing, though. Wanda was guilty of one thing.”
Mary frowned. “You mean besides being ‘the other woman’?”
Gus nodded. “She doesn’t actually use fresh herbs at the café. Says it’s too hard up here even with indoor grow lights and such.”
Mary clucked and nodded sympathetically. “It sure is. A lot of people have tried to grow things. Seems like the only place conducive to that is the pear tree.”
Gus’s gaze drifted in the direction of the pear tree. She could just barely see it from here, but she remembered the earth underneath and the golden juicy pears, not to mention the way Comfort had yanked them out from under the tree as if to keep Gus and Ivy from discovering something.
“You know, you might be on to something there.”
Mary gave her a quizzical look. “Really? What do you mean?”
“Oh nothing…” Gus had focused her attention on the tree.
Mary shrugged. “Okay, then, I’m going to continue with my shopping. I’m sure it will all get straightened out.”
They watched Mary walk off, then Gus turned to Ivy. She was just about to suggest looking under the pear tree when Yule came clomping down the street in his sleigh. The reindeer snorted and tossed their heads as they pulled up beside the Pacer.
The lead reindeer looked down at the car and then at his fellow teammates and rolled his eyes. “Would you get a load of that? A bubble car.”
“Hey, no making fun of my mode of transportation, you fancied-up moose,” Ivy said.
“No teasing the reindeer!” Yule gave Ivy a disapproving look. “I’m glad I caught up with youse. Are you gonna be playing tonight?”
“Yes.” Gus’s eagerness to play at the lounge was dampened by the way Yule looked her up and down.
“Good. I’m gonna have a first-row seat at one of the tables, see?”
“Great.” Gus forced a smile. Luckily, she was only staying here through the end of the week. She didn’t know how long it would be before she’d have to resort to rudeness for Yule to get the message that she wasn’t interested.
“Anyways, I remembered you girls were asking about any live shipments, and I wanted to tell you one came in today.”
“For who?”
“Ruffled Feathers. It was a big box, and they hurried down to get it right quick, too, so I think it must have been important.”
Once again, Gus’s gaze drifted down toward the pear tree. Of course, a live shipment didn’t mean much of anything now. Vicky had already been poisoned. But this knowledge just made it all that more evident that all the clues pointed toward Comfort and Joy.
Yule flicked the reins, and the reindeer started forward. “Well, see you girls tonight!”
As Yule trotted off, Ivy turned to Gus. “I think he likes you.”
Gus rolled her eyes. “Not interested. But what I am interested in is the live shipment.”
“Why? Vicky was already poisoned, so it couldn’t be hemlock unless Comfort and Joy are planning on going on a poisoning spree.”
“I’m not sure how the box figures in, but I am sure of one thing. Kevin said Vicky was seeing Stephen Nicholson about bringing some legal action about the bird
s. That would definitely affect Comfort and Joy, and they can clearly grow things over there near the pear tree.”
Ivy pressed her lips together. “Comfort did seem overly upset when we were poking around there before.”
“And that partridge was looking kind of ragged the last time I saw it. Maybe that’s because it was eating hemlock. We already know that Comfort and Joy had a motive. If we can find hemlock in that area, then we can prove they had means. Then, hopefully, we can hit them with the evidence and get them to confess.” Gus turned to Ivy. “Go drop off your car, dress in something dark, and meet me at the tree in thirty minutes.”
Chapter 10
The sky was dark by the time Gus and Ivy met at the pear tree. The tree itself was subtly lit with a soft spotlight and a sparse smattering of twinkling lights that seemed to highlight each juicy pear. The area around the tree was cloaked in shadows. Ivy arrived dressed in a black shirt and pair of slacks, carrying her saxophone.
Gus frowned at the saxophone in her hand. “Why did you bring that?”
“I figured we’d just head to the lounge after this and I’d have it handy.”
Gus supposed it wouldn’t hurt to drag a saxophone along. She glanced up and down the road. The pear tree was at the end of the village common, away from the shops and skaters. No one was around. She gestured toward the fence. “Okay, now let’s be quiet.”
As they hopped over the fence, the partridge poked its head out from under a shrub, the light catching the suspicion in its beady black eyes.
“Peep!”
“Shush.” Gus put her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anyone we’re here.”
“Squawk!” The partridge darted out, and Gus jumped back.
Ivy held her saxophone up in front of her. “That thing is dangerous.”
The bird ran a circle around them. Its feathers were falling out, some drifting up in the air and others dropping at Gus’s feet. Before Gus could get a good look at it, the partridge disappeared back into the shrubbery.
“What happens to a bird that eats hemlock?” Gus asked.
“I have no idea. Wouldn’t they die?”
“Maybe it depends on how much they eat. Maybe only a little bit makes them sick. Vicky must have had a good amount in her food, I suppose.” Gus was even more determined to poke around under the tree. She pushed her way into the shrubs behind the tree, figuring that if Comfort or Joy were growing hemlock, it would be in the back section hidden by the tree and shrubs where no one could see.
“Come on over here and let’s see what else is growing.” They got down on their hands and knees and started poking around. Gus ignored the scratching of the branches on her skin as she poked through clover, buttercups, and even some thorny raspberry bushes. Nothing she found resembled the lacy white flowers of poison hemlock that she’d seen on the internet.
“I don’t see anything. Did you say it looks like Queen Anne’s lace?” Ivy asked after a few minutes.
“Yes, small white flowers. You might think it’s a weed.”
“Ouch!” Ivy squealed.
“Shhh… what happened?”
“The partridge pecked me.”
Gus turned to see Ivy sitting there holding her elbow, a look of concern on her face. “I hope it can’t transmit poison with its beak.”
The partridge was sitting behind Ivy, its bedraggled feathers fluffed out. One wing feather hung off at an odd angle. Something was very odd about that bird. “Wait a minute. This bird—”
“Hold it right there! What do you two thieves think you are you doing!” Comfort and Joy pushed their way through the shrubs. Comfort was holding a large box.
“We were just looking for my saxophone reed. I dropped it!” Ivy blurted out, holding up the saxophone case as evidence. Gus looked at her out of the corner of her eye. Surely, she could’ve come up with something better. She’d need more tutelage before becoming a cop.
Judging by the skeptical looks on their faces, Comfort and Joy weren’t buying the reed excuse. “You were spying on us.”
Gus stood and brushed dirt off her pants. “Well, not exactly spying. But I think it’s mighty suspicious that you are the only people here that have live plants and Vicky was murdered with fresh hemlock.” Sometimes the best way to get a confession was to confront the killer bluntly. Of course when Gus usually did this, she had a gun. But now, even as her hand hovered over her right hip, she realized she had no gun. She wasn’t in her official capacity. She was simply a tourist jazz piano player on vacation.
“What are you talking about?” Comfort asked.
“She’s really nosy. I don’t like her,” Joy said.
Comfort nodded. “Yeah. I think we better get rid of them.”
Ivy’s sharp intake of breath indicated her alarm. Gus was alarmed too but also felt a ray of vindication that she had guessed the killer correctly. Still, it was unsettling that they’d killed before, and if Comfort wanted to “get rid of them,” she might not stop at killing again. Gus would have to come up with a plan to outmaneuver them, but she wanted answers first.
“Not so fast. What’s in the box?” Gus asked.
Comfort pulled the box closer to her chest as if protecting it. “Nothing.”
What could possibly be in there? Surely, she wouldn’t have more hemlock, would she? And why would she need a fresh batch if she could grow it right here? Something didn’t make sense, but that box—and especially the way Comfort clutched it—certainly was suspicious. Gus reached out for the box. “Then you won’t mind me looking in there.”
Comfort jerked back. “We most certainly will.”
Gus lurched forward, grabbing on to the edge. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, then show me!”
“Get away!” Comfort pulled the box out of Gus’s grasp. Gus lurched forward and grabbed more of the box. Comfort tugged back, Gus pulled, and finally the box flew out of both their grasps.
It landed with a thud on the ground and tumbled over. The flaps holding the box shut burst open, and a beautiful brown partridge flew out.
The bird flapped its wings and looked over its shoulder at them as if admonishing them for dropping the box.
The partridge under the shrub screeched and flapped around. Wait a minute. Now that Gus could see the old partridge next to the new one, she realized the birds weren’t that much alike. “Exactly what is going on here?”
Comfort and Joy sighed in unison.
“Fine. We might as well tell her,” Joy said.
Comfort picked up the original partridge and started petting it, sending feathers flying everywhere. “Our partridge died.”
At Gus’s raised-brow look, Joy hastened to add, “Not because of anything we did. It was simply old.”
Comfort nodded. “And the village couldn’t go without a partridge under the pear tree, so we took this peahen and dressed it up like a partridge.” She plucked off a feather for proof. Gus could see that the bird was shaped similarly, but the feathers were different colors. They had glued on partridge feathers to make it look like a partridge.
“We figured no one can really get a close look at the bird, and it hides under the shrubs, so this would be a good fix just until we could get a new partridge.” Joy picked up the new bird and petted it lovingly then kissed the top of its tiny head. “Here’s your new home. I hope you like it.” She placed the bird down and watched as it checked out the area.
“See,” Comfort said indignantly. “We treat our birds very well.”
The partridge cooed and looked back at them as if in agreement then scurried under a bush, turned around, and peered out at them with its shiny dark eyes.
“What will happen to this bird?” Ivy pointed to the peahen that Comfort cradled in her arms.
“Oh, we’ll put her back in the pen at our place. We run a bird sanctuary for injured birds.”
“But this still doesn’t prove you didn’t grow hemlock or kill Vicky. In fact, you had even more of a reason to kill her. She took a big interest in th
e birds, so she probably discovered that you were having the peahen pose as a partridge,” Gus said.
“And you mentioned you were going to get rid of us. That sounds like killer talk,” Ivy added.
Comfort looked confused. “Huh? Oh, that? I just meant to get you out of here so you wouldn’t see us switching birds. You thought we were going to kill you? We’re not killers, and we certainly don’t grow hemlock here.”
“Yeah. It’s poisonous and would kill the birds!” Joy added.
She did have a point. The peahen was fine. It wasn’t losing feathers because of poison. Maybe birds were immune to hemlock? But if their story was true, it also explained why they’d been acting so cagey and why Comfort had been so upset when Gus tried to jump over the fence and get into the shrubbery area before. And Vicky didn’t like them, so how could they possibly poison her?
“Well, if it wasn’t you, then who else would grow the hemlock here?” Ivy demanded.
But Gus already had an idea. Images of fresh mistletoe bubbled up in her mind. Someone else had motive, means, and opportunity. “I think I know—”
Someone said, “I knew it was just a matter of time before you figured it out. Maybe you should have stayed back in Mystic Notch instead of playing sheriff up here. Because now you won’t be getting a chance to go back home.”
The voice came from behind Comfort and Joy. Gus peered around them to see Mary Dunn. In one hand, she held a rope attached to an old-fashioned wooden sled. In the other, she had a gun, and it was pointed directly at them.
Chapter 11
“Mary?” Joy’s gaze wavered between the gun in Mary’s hand and her face. “What is going on?”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?”
“She’s the killer,” Ivy said.
“That’s right, and now that you all know, I’m afraid it’s silent night for all of you,” Mary said.
“You grew the hemlock right along with the mistletoe.” Gus again wished for her gun, but of course she didn’t have it. She’d not seen a need to bring it on vacation. Her investigatory skills must have been on vacation, too, she thought, as she remembered the fresh mistletoe in Mary’s office. Mary would have had to grow that somewhere.
Grievance in Gingerbread Alley (Christmas Village Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 5
