Claws for Alarm

by Karen MacInerney

  "As a woman who spent a significant portion of her life married, I'll say that does have its benefits," Catherine said with a crooked smile. "I think Natalie's right, though. You don't need to go to Portland to find a man. Maybe you should spend a little more time on Mount Desert Island."

  "I guess," Charlene said, sounding unconvinced. "Is there more cake?"

  "There is," I said, and cut her another slice. My heart hurt for my friend, and although I wasn't sure Alex was the right man for her, I was still irritated at him.

  * * *

  It was after nine by the time Charlene headed home. Willow was tidying up the yoga mats when I went out to the parlor a few minutes later. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.

  "How's it going?" I asked.

  "Terrible," she said. "Rainy's in the hospital, and James is acting like he's never met me before, and...” She took a deep, shuddery breath. "I'm sorry. You don't need to hear this."

  "I'm happy to listen," I said, putting a hand on her sculpted shoulder. "Do you want to come to the kitchen and have a cup of tea?"

  "I'd love that, to be honest," she said. "Sequoia went up to bed early, and I have to be on for the retreat participants, and I have no one to talk to."

  "Leave the yoga mats for later," I suggested, and led her to the kitchen, where I put the kettle on. "Would you like a piece of cake?" I asked. "I think Charlene left a little bit."

  "That sounds great," she said, and I cut two slim slices of cake as she sat down at my big pine table. It wouldn't do to let her eat alone, after all.

  "It's got to be hard running the retreat with your ex-boyfriend in it," I said as I slid a plate of cake across the table to her and sat down across from her with my own plate.

  "It's a nightmare," she said. "I'm not really surprised he's here, though. He seems able to just kind of box things up and not think about them. Unless he's obsessed with something, that is."

  "Like food?"

  "Oh, totally," she said, cutting a piece of cake. "If I ate this while we were together, I wouldn't hear the end of it for a week."

  "Sounds kind of controlling," I said.

  "He is," she said. "He had a fiancée who died a while back; I've always wondered if that had something to do with it."

  "How tragic," I said. "What happened?"

  "He refuses to talk about it," Willow said. "Or refused anyway. We don't really talk at all now. I might as well be another piece of furniture." She stabbed at a piece of cake. "I know I shouldn't think this way, but it makes me wonder if he ever had feelings for me at all."

  "I'm sure he did," I said. "If you don't mind my asking, why did you break up?"

  She gave me a haunted look. "I don't know. He just said... we weren't right for each other." She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm sorry. It wasn't that it was perfect, it was just... I loved him. Or I thought I did."

  "I know how that is," I said softly. I'd been dumped myself.

  "The thing is, I wouldn't even be having this retreat on Cranberry Island if it wasn't for him. It was his idea. And now I have to see him all day, every day, and still be perky."

  My antennae perked up. "It was his idea to hold the retreat, or to hold the retreat on Cranberry Island?"

  "On the island, I mean. He said he'd heard Maine was beautiful in the summer. And Florida is just so darned hot..."

  "I lived in Texas," I said. "I remember. What made him pick Cranberry Island, though, do you know? It's kind of off the beaten path."

  "He never said. Maybe he saw an article about it or something. I'd ask him, but he's not really talking to me."

  "I get it," I said. The kettle whistled, and I stood up to fix a pot of tea. "Decaf?"

  "Please," she said. "Otherwise I'll be up all night."

  I plopped a couple of tea bags into a teapot and filled it with boiling water, then carried it to the table, along with two cups. As it steeped, I took a pot of milk from the fridge and carried it to the table, along with the sugar bowl.

  "Enough about me, though," Willow said when I sat back down. "Rainy's in the hospital, and here I am complaining about a relationship that didn't work out."

  "It's still valid to be upset," I said. "It's not about comparing situations."

  "I guess you're right." She speared another piece of cake and chewed it mechanically.

  "How long had Rainy been a part of the yoga studio staff?" I asked.

  "Only a couple of months," she said. "She was... is... a quick learner, though. She just finished her certification last summer."

  "Have she and Ravi been together the whole time?"

  She nodded. "I think they met in some kind of support group or something. About a year ago, I think she told me."

  I poured two cups of tea and slid one across the table to her. "They don't seem like a particularly happy couple."

  "They argue a lot, and he makes a lot of bad choices. I think she could do better, but what do I know? I dated a robot who dumped me." She dashed some milk into her tea—no sugar—and took a long swig.

  "Do you think he might be responsible for what happened to her?"

  "I don't know," she said, putting down the cup. "I don't think so, somehow. He just seemed too... weak to do something like that. He's more reactive than proactive; I think he's too passive to actually try to hurt Rainy."

  "I know what you mean," I said, although privately I wondered. I couldn't see him whacking anyone with a brick, but somehow, I wouldn't put it past him to slip her a few extra Klonopin. Had he given her some so he could sneak off to be with Kellie? Was that where he’d been after leaving my sofa?

  "What kind of support group, do you know?" I asked.

  She shook her head. "She kind of kept that quiet. With the Klonopin, though, I'm wondering if it might not be something related to addiction. And if they met there... of course it makes sense he might be unstable."

  I'd mention that to John when I saw him next, I decided. But now, I was focused on Willow. "Look," I told her, "you're beautiful. You're charismatic. You're accomplished. There have got to be scores of guys out there who'd love to be with you."

  "I just can't seem to find them," Willow said.

  "You and Charlene both," I said. "She's thinking of moving to a city to up her odds of meeting Mr. Right. Or even Mr. Right Now."

  "She's leaving the island?"

  "Talking about it anyway," I said. "She's dating a naturalist who came to town to visit, but he seems more interested in spending time with the local fauna than with her."

  "Men," Willow said sourly. She scraped more frosting off her plate.

  Although I was very happy with the man I'd settled down with, I understood her feelings; I'd shared them in the past.

  "I should probably head to bed," she said, pushing away the cake plate.

  "Tomorrow will look brighter," I said.

  "I hope so," she replied. "Thanks for the tea and cake; I'm feeling better."

  "I'm glad."

  She sighed. "Let's just hope someone else doesn't end up half-dead—or worse—before breakfast."

  12

  I was mixing batter for a coffee cake when John came into the kitchen looking for me. It had been almost an hour since Willow had headed upstairs, and I was busy trying to figure out what the connection might be between Rainy and Francine... if there was one. Both had ended up outside with head injuries, but Francine's hadn't involved drugs—at least not that I knew of—and it was unclear whether someone had hit Rainy or if she'd knocked her head against a rock when she fell.

  "What's going on in here?" John asked as I measured out flour.

  "I'm making a cake for breakfast and trying to figure out what's going on on the island, that's all," I said.

  "Cake? You're brave."

  "Desperate times call for desperate measures," I replied as he eyed the batter bowl with interest. "You can lick the beaters when I'm done," I told him with a smile.

  "We'll share," he offered. "One each."
/>   "It's a deal," I said as I folded the flour into the batter. "Any news on Rainy or Francine?"

  "Rainy's stable but still unconscious, last I heard," he said. "No autopsy results back on Francine yet, but Claudette is definitely the top suspect."

  "I know it's not her," I said as I mixed in berries and then turned the batter into a pan.

  "Who else do you have in mind?"

  "It could be anyone in the co-op, for starters," I said. "She was killed with a brick from one of the traps, after all, and she was found right next to the co-op."

  "What was she doing down there anyway, do you think?" he asked.

  "Good question. Her husband didn't seem to even know she'd gone out."

  "The co-op’s not on the way back to her house from the inn," he said.

  "No, it's not," I agreed. "Do you think she was meeting someone?"

  "Or trying to attack the goats?"

  "That's a possibility," I said. "I don't like it, but one of the goats was hurt, and she was carrying a knife."

  "And she had threatened them," John added.

  "It could be an angry lobsterman, though," I said.

  "Who? Tom Lockhart?"

  "Maybe. And there's also the board of selectmen. I heard she and Ingrid got into it, too; Francine was going to run for her spot, I think."

  "No one would have voted for her, though. Plus, the elections aren't until next year. Not much of a motive."

  I sighed. "Do you think maybe her husband got fed up with her?"

  "After forty years, what could possibly have changed?"

  "Maybe being stuck on an island with her," I suggested. "Weren't they in a city in Florida?"

  "Somewhere on the east coast, yes," he said. "I suppose there were a few more options for escape. It's kind of odd to move somewhere so much colder, and more remote, at least relatively speaking."

  "They kept the house in Florida, though."

  "So they were planning on being summer people," John said.

  "Yeah," I said. "It'll be interesting to see what Gus chooses to do now that Francine is gone."

  "That doesn't help us with our murder problem, though."

  "Or a potential connection between Francine and Rainy."

  "Maybe Rainy knew something or saw something she shouldn't have," John suggested.

  "The yoga studio is based in Florida," I said. "Do you think maybe someone at the retreat knew Francine beforehand?"

  "It's possible," he said. "Not everyone's from Florida, though. Kellie and her posse are from Texas."

  I slid the cake into the oven and sighed. "There's something here I'm missing. I just wish I knew what it was."

  "You think the two things are related?"

  "I could be wrong, but I do," I confessed.

  "So do I," John said.

  "And I'm afraid if we don't figure it out soon, it won't be good for Claudette."

  "It's a valid concern," he said, and sighed. "I've got to head down to my workshop and catch up a bit; all this excitement has put me behind on some of the stock for Island Artists."

  "Want some company in a bit?"

  "I'd love it, but only if you're up for it."

  "Let me finish up this cake and I'll come down," I told him. He gave me a quick kiss and a hug, then headed out to his workshop.

  * * *

  As the cake baked, filling the kitchen with a delicious buttery scent, I went out to the dining room to tidy up for breakfast. I had just pushed through the kitchen door when I heard voices from the parlor.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to return the favor?" The first voice was low and seductive.

  "No... no. I'm just fine." The second voice, male, was high and reedy.

  "Come on. It'll help relax you."

  "Really. I'm fine... please, you've caused me enough trouble already. Just leave me alone."

  "You seemed to like it the other day," came the petulant voice. "Come on. Nobody has to know."

  "I told you. No."

  Privacy was one thing, but this sounded an awful lot like sexual harassment. I marched through the dining room to the parlor. I was less than shocked to discover Kellie, wearing a very brief sports bra and skintight leggings, standing about a millimeter from Ravi, whom she appeared to have backed up against a wall.

  "Everything okay?" I asked innocently, as if I hadn't heard what had happened.

  "Fine," Ravi said, looking like a hunted animal.

  "Would you like a cup of chamomile tea?" I offered him. "I know it's been a tough couple of days for you."

  "Yes, please," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told Kellie, who was looking at me with a slightly curled lip. She didn't appear to be pleased that I'd interrupted her seduction plans. Or assault plans, as the case may be. If she was the reason Rainy had taken the extra Klonopin...

  "Thank you for intervening," he said when the swinging door had closed behind us.

  "No problem," I said. "She doesn't take no for an answer, does she?"

  "She doesn't," he agreed. "I think she's the kind of person who's always gotten her way."

  I filled the kettle with water as he sat down at the table. "Is that what happened when you were giving her a massage?"

  "Not completely, to be honest," he said, shrugging. "She's pretty, and things with Rainy and me... I'm ashamed to say it, but I didn't fob her off."

  "You certainly were fobbing her off tonight," I pointed out as I put the kettle on.

  "And she wasn't having any of it," he said glumly. "I can't believe I made that mistake with her. If I'd just not agreed to that massage, maybe Rainy wouldn't have taken all those pills and she wouldn't be in the hospital right now."

  "You really care for her, don't you?" I asked gently.

  "I do," he said. "Things between us have never been easy, but I love her."

  "How did you meet?" I asked as I pulled the box of chamomile tea from the cabinet and filled the teapot with hot water to warm it.

  "We met at a support group, actually.” He glanced up at me. "I'm a little embarrassed to tell you about it, but we both had some issues with addiction."

  "It's fairly common," I said. "I'm glad you both got help."

  "That's part of why Rainy was so in to yoga," he said. "It was helping her with the cravings.” His face crumpled. "And now this happened, all because of me..."

  "We don't know what happened yet," I said. It was likely she'd taken several pills because of her upset with Ravi, but that wasn't certain. "We don't have all the facts. Besides, you didn't make her do anything. Although I will say, your judgment could have been a lot better."

  "It could," he said. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

  "That's the thing. You can't change what happened, but you can bear it in mind going forward."

  "It doesn't help Rainy, though, does it?"

  "No," I said. "She's in good hands, though. She's young and healthy; hopefully, she'll come out of it just fine."

  "And if she doesn't?"

  "Let's not go borrowing trouble, okay?" I asked as the kettle whistled. I poured the hot water out of the teapot, added two tea bags, and filled the pot with boiling water. "I don't have any homemade cookies, but would you like some packaged shortbread? I keep some on hand for emergencies."

  "I'd love some," he said. "I understand the reasoning behind all the diet stuff, but sometimes you just need a good cookie."

  "I hear you," I said, retrieving a package of shortbread from the pantry and setting several cookies out on a plate. As he nibbled a wedge, I poured us both some tea and settled down across from him at the table. "I have a question for you that may or may not be related to Rainy."

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "Do you know if anyone on the retreat knew Francine Hodges before they came to the island?"

  He blinked. "Francine Hodges? The lady who got killed down by the pier?"

  "That's the one," I said.

  "Why would anyone know her? Nobody on the retreat is from here."
/>
  "She's not from here either," I said. "She and her husband moved up from Florida a few months ago."

  "That's a big transition," he said. "I'll bet they regret it come January. But no. I mean, someone would have told someone, right?"

  "You'd think so," I agreed.

  "I mean, the day she came into the inn talking about pressing charges about something? If anyone had known her, don't you think they would have said something?"

  I cast my mind back to the night Francine died. Had anyone reacted strangely when Francine walked into the inn? And had Francine seemed to respond to anyone? Try as I might, I couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary. Then again, I hadn't been looking, and I'd been worried about Claudette.

  "Did anyone talk about what happened that you know of?"

  "Kellie thought she needed to settle down with a few martinis, and some of the other retreat participants thought it was funny when they found out why she was pressing charges. I mean, soy milk? That’s not exactly a deadly weapon, you know? But no, other than that, no. And no one said anything about recognizing her. She was just kind of a crazy lady."

  "How many of the retreat members knew each other beforehand?" I asked.

  "Well, Sebastian and Gage are regulars, and of course there's Willow and Sequoia." Ravi ticked the names off on slender fingers. "James is from Florida, too, but the rest of them are from elsewhere."

  "How did people outside of Florida find out about the retreat?"

  "Willow did a webinar not long ago, and a few folks who did that decided to sign up." He took another bite of cookie and sipped some tea. "Do you really think someone at the retreat had something to do with what happened to Francine?"

  "What does your gut say?" I asked. Of course, Ravi could be the killer, but he'd been so passive with Kellie, something told me he didn't have it in him to bean someone over the head with a brick.

  "I think there's some tension going on between some of the retreat members, to be honest, but I can't think of anyone who would want to kill Francine."