Mulberry Mischief

by Sharon Farrow

  “That’s unfair. She hasn’t caused any trouble. Leticia has never displayed any violence towards anyone. Never threatened a single person. She seems harmless.”

  Piper slammed her hand on the table. “For the love of God, she killed the nanny!”

  Chapter Nine

  Nearby diners threw us nervous glances.

  Realizing her mistake, Piper added in a lower voice, “When Leticia was nineteen, she killed the nanny of a prominent family. I can’t believe you don’t know about this case. Leticia spent fifteen years in prison. About thirteen years ago they released her, heaven knows why.”

  “That means the murder occurred when I was two. How would I know about it?”

  “I hate the young,” she said with disgust. “You’re all willfully ignorant.”

  “You can’t blame me for not knowing about a murder that happened decades ago.”

  “Everyone knew about it at the time. It was a notorious case because the family was famous.” Piper bit her lip. “They still are.”

  I looked over again at the table in the corner that Cameron and Ingrid Sable presided over. “They’re in town right now, aren’t they? You’re talking about the Sables.”

  “Keep your voice down. Two of them are coming this way.”

  Startled, I looked up to see two men thread their way around the crowded dining room. As they got closer, the taller of the two gave Piper a friendly wave.

  She waved back. This prompted the men to approach our table.

  “Don’t say a word about Leticia,” she muttered, keeping a smile plastered on her face.

  “Give me some credit,” I said in exasperation. “I’m not an idiot.”

  One of the men overheard me and laughed. “No one would think any friend of Piper’s is an idiot. She is a most discerning woman.” He held out his hand. “I’m Keith Sable.”

  “Marlee Jacob.” I shook his hand.

  Instead of releasing my hand, he gave me a searching gaze. I didn’t mind. Keith Sable had dimples, perfect teeth, and a muscular build. His curly dark hair also reminded me of Kit. “Why is that name familiar?” he asked.

  “Marlee is the local expert on berries that I told you about,” Piper explained.

  “Ah, yes. The Berry Basket girl.” He squeezed my hand before finally releasing it. “My brother and I were talking about you earlier today. Our company is looking into a product line based on berry extracts. We’d be quite interested in talking with you.”

  “If you’re as knowledgeable as Piper claims,” the other man said, “we may wish to hire you as a consultant. I’m Patrick Sable.” Unlike his brother, Patrick’s smile seemed perfunctory, and his salt-and-pepper hair pegged him as the older of the two.

  My head swam. One moment, I was learning Leticia had murdered a nanny associated with the Sables. The next moment I was being considered for a no-doubt lucrative position as berry consultant by the family’s heirs.

  “Marlee is giving a Holistic Hints workshop tomorrow,” Piper informed them. “All about the beneficial properties of berries. Two o’clock.”

  “Free berry products, too,” I added with a smile.

  “I’ll make sure the family attends.” Despite his words, Patrick didn’t sound enthusiastic.

  Although I had no fear of public speaking, the idea of giving a workshop before all the members of the Sable dynasty gave me pause. When I got home tonight, I needed to go over my notes. Maybe add a few more things.

  “I hope the family is enjoying their dinner here tonight,” Piper said. “San Sebastian is one of the finest restaurants in Michigan. Diego Theroux is a supremely talented chef.”

  “Our meal has been excellent,” Patrick said. “My wife can’t stop eating the tapas.”

  “Your townspeople have been so friendly.” Keith’s smile dimmed. “Except for a few.”

  Piper sat up even straighter. “What do you mean?”

  “Our cars were vandalized. One of them just now.” Keith jerked his thumb toward the restaurant door. “That’s why Patrick and I were outside. Someone let the air out of all our tires while our driver was down the street having a quick bite.”

  “I blame our driver as well,” Patrick said. “When on duty, he should stay with the car.”

  “In a town as safe as Oriole Point, he shouldn’t have to,” Piper declared. “I am so sorry this happened. I shall insist our local police be more vigilant.”

  “Excuse me, but you said your cars have been vandalized,” I said. “Plural.”

  “We rented three BMWs at the airport for the family and our assistants,” Keith said. “Someone spray-painted one of the cars between midnight and dawn today.”

  Piper looked as if she wanted to explode. “I am mortified to hear this.”

  “The vandal painted LIAR all over the car.” Patrick seemed grim. “In red paint, too. We had the car replaced this morning.”

  “How awful,” I said. “And highly uncharacteristic of our town.”

  “Indeed it is,” Piper said huffily. “It must be a visitor here for the fair.”

  “That’s what we assume, too,” Keith told us. “We occasionally have trouble with disgruntled people who have not had success on the Sable Diet or haven’t followed it correctly.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time someone has accused us of lying when they haven’t lost weight on the diet.” Patrick sighed. “One of them is apparently in Oriole Point, drawn here by our presence at the fair. The local police agree that’s the most likely explanation.”

  “The same person probably let the air out of your tires,” I observed. “You need to keep an eye on the cars from this point on.”

  “I will send my own assistants to personally stand guard over your cars,” Piper said.

  Keith waved his hand. “No need for that. We’ve instructed our drivers to remain with the vehicles during the day. And we’ve arranged for secure parking during the rest of our time here.”

  Patrick glanced over at the table where the other Sables sat. Ingrid Sable was watching us. “We should get back to our dinner. Knowing our mother, she has insisted everyone stop eating until we return.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Jacob,” Keith said. “I look forward to your berry talk.”

  “And I’m sorry to hear about the vandalism. Oriole Point is usually a friendly place.”

  “Blame it on Halloween.” Patrick shrugged. “It’s the time of year for malicious mischief. Don’t let it spoil your dinner.”

  Piper and I looked at each other after they left. The word “mischief ” rang in my ears.

  “Do you think Leticia is behind this?” I asked.

  “I’ll run her over with Lionel’s Hummer if she is,” Piper snapped.

  “Why does Leticia view the Sables as enemies?”

  “I told you. She killed their nanny. And her real name is Ellen Nagy. At least until she married that Clark fellow who worked at the prison. Her family is from Michigan, you know.”

  “Was that why you met with her last month on the beach? To warn her the Sables would be in town for the health fair?”

  “It was the other way around.” Piper picked up her fork once more and stabbed at her salad. “She sent a message to the email address I use at the Tourist Center. With ‘Nanny Murder’ on the subject line. That certainly caught my attention.”

  “What did she want?”

  “To complain that I had invited the Sables to Oriole Point. She’d seen the latest promo I plastered all over town and social media. She told me the Sables should not be allowed to come to Oriole Point and darken the town with their presence. Those were her exact words.”

  The phrase “darken the town” struck me. Were the Sable family the shadow people Leticia had mentioned? “Did you email her back?” I asked.

  “Yes. I told her Oriole Point was lucky the Sables had agreed to take part in the fair.” Piper took a bite of salad. She appeared to do this more as a way to keep calm than out of hunger.

  “How did you end up on
the beach together?”

  “Leticia replied that I had been deceived by the Sables. She claimed she had lost years of her life because of them. Now they were coming to town to destroy what was left of it.”

  This indeed sounded like they were the shadow people she had mentioned to me. I swirled the wine in my glass. As a childhood spelling-bee champion, I should have associated the Sables with darkness. In a color wheel, sable is placed in the section reserved for shades of black.

  “She insisted we speak face-to-face,” Piper continued. “But on her terms. That’s how I found myself on Oriole Beach the following morning. I brought Charlemagne and Lionel along for safety’s sake. After all, Leticia’s email implied that she was the young woman who killed the nanny. I had no intention of meeting her without witnesses.”

  “What happened when the two of you met?”

  “She tried to convince me to cancel their appearance. After I refused, she warned me that death would be the outcome. Her death.”

  I took a much needed sip of wine. “She actually said that?”

  “Yes. And I became angry. After all the effort and money I’d expended on this event, I couldn’t allow her to cause a scene at the fair or bother the Sables. I told her that if I saw her anywhere near town while the health fair was in progress, she would be arrested.” Piper looked a little sheepish. “Perhaps I overreacted, but she didn’t leave me much choice.”

  “And that was the last time you saw her?”

  “It was. No more emails either. I hoped I’d persuaded her to stay away from Oriole Point for the foreseeable future. With luck, she might even find another beach to loiter on.”

  I mulled over what she had said as the two of us ate our salads. Leticia had known the Sables—the shadow people—were soon to arrive. And she feared one of them more than the others. A person she thought wanted to kill her. How desperate she must have been to come to me with her fanciful notions about mulberries.

  “Why haven’t you told me about any of this?” I said accusingly. “All these years, you’ve known the Lake Lady was a convicted murderer.”

  “I have not. I didn’t even put this whole thing together until she wanted to meet with me on the beach. I simply thought she was a strange woman with dreadful taste in hair color. And she became notorious as Ellen Nagy, not Ellen Clark. So googling ‘Ellen Clark’ produced nothing. I knew she was an oddball. But there was little information to be had about her. Our police chief wouldn’t tell me a thing. I should have realized the Leticia the Lake Lady nickname was a clue, but the murder happened so long ago. I didn’t connect the dots until last month.”

  “How and why was the nanny killed?”

  Piper took a deep breath. “The whole thing began on Mackinac Island.”

  “Mackinac?” I looked at her in surprise. Mackinac Island was a beautiful island on Lake Huron between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas. Cars were not allowed on Mackinac, only bikes and horse carriages. This helped to literally transport visitors back to a more charming and quaint era. Mackinac’s charm was enhanced by historic B&Bs, a Colonial fort, and bike paths that wound their way along the lake and woods. The island was not only one of the top vacation spots in Michigan, a recent poll named it the best vacation spot in the nation.

  For a murder to take place in such a tranquil haven seemed particularly abhorrent.

  “Ellen and Keith had gone to the island to work for the summer.” Piper signaled our waiter for another glass of wine. “They were both nineteen-year-old college students. Vastly different colleges, mind you. Ellen attended some community college in the southern part of the state. Keith Sable had just been kicked out of Purdue. The year before, he had been asked not to return to the University of Virginia.”

  “Two colleges expelled him in two years? What in the world did he do?”

  “Nothing. That was the problem. He never attended class. Keith spent his time sleeping, chasing after girls, and drinking at the frat house. Newspaper reports claimed Cameron and Ingrid Sable cut off his allowance after the latest expulsion. If he wanted any financial support in the future, he had to find a summer job.”

  “So Keith took a job on Mackinac Island.” Like Oriole Point, Mackinac was a vacation destination. The fudge shops, hotels, restaurants, and marinas needed help during high season.

  “Patrick got him the job,” Piper said. “Patrick has always been the more responsible son. Princeton grad, a board member of the Sable company by the time he was twenty-five. The same year he married the daughter of the founder of Fontaine Pharmaceuticals.”

  “Since Keith Sable works for the family now, I assume he got his act together.”

  “Finally. Also keep in mind he was a teenager back then. Patrick is nine years older. The Sables assumed he would straighten out his life. Keith took the first step when he agreed to work on Mackinac Island for the summer. He was a recreation attendant at the Grand Hotel.”

  “Of course he got a job working for the fanciest place on the island,” I said.

  “The week before, Ellen also got a job as an attendant there. Hotel employees claimed the pair were inseparable. It had all the makings of a typical summer romance.” Piper shot me a jaundiced look. “Until the murder.”

  I looked up in relief as the waiter appeared with our dinners. “What was Ellen, a.k.a. Leticia, like as a girl?”

  “You’d never know it to look at her now, but she was attractive. There are photos of her online. Like I told you, the case was famous.” Piper dug her phone out of the requisite Hermès bag and typed for a moment. “Here. She’s the one in the middle. Keith is next to her.”

  The photo she pulled up revealed a group of teens, all wearing the white shirts and red jackets found on Grand Hotel employees. If Piper hadn’t told me to look at the girl in the middle, I may not have recognized her as Leticia. And I was right. Leticia was a blonde. I compared her straggly orange tresses to the mass of smooth, blonde hair in the photo. It flowed over her shoulders like a golden cape. Keith looked much the same. Or maybe it was that devilish grin.

  “If Keith and Ellen were working at the Grand Hotel that summer, how does the nanny figure into this? Did Keith’s parents have a vacation house on the island?”

  “Hardly. Cameron and Ingrid Sable spend their summers in the Hamptons.”

  I sat back. “I’m confused. Exactly who was the nanny working for?”

  “Patrick and his wife Ainsley. They had a four-month-old son at the time of the murder. That summer they were staying at Victor Kang’s vacation home on Mackinac Island.”

  I thought back to our conversation last Saturday in the park. “You said the Sables stepped in when Victor Kang canceled his appearance at the health fair.”

  “Yes. Patrick and Victor went to Princeton together and remained friends. Victor was born and raised in Ann Arbor. Like a lot of Michiganders, his family spent summers up north. When he became successful, Victor bought a house on Mackinac Island. He invited them to the island that summer to help Ainsley recover.”

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “Postpartum depression. According to trial records, Patrick and Ainsley had visited Victor on the island several times before. He offered them the use of his home, which they accepted.” She smoothed the linen napkin on her lap.

  I peeked over at the dinner table filled with Sables. I wondered which of the women was Ainsley Sable. “So Keith, Patrick, and Ainsley Sable all spent the summer on Mackinac Island?”

  Piper cut her steak. “Along with the nanny and our crazy lady of the lake.”

  “Leticia probably didn’t appear crazy then. If she had, why would Keith Sable have gotten romantically involved with her?”

  She snorted. “As if teenage boys have an ounce of sense, especially with a pretty young blonde wiggling around them.”

  “Did she act strange back then, too?”

  Piper shrugged. “Depends on how you define strange. According to other employees at the Grand Hotel, she was helpful and swe
et. But sensitive in the extreme. Prone to panic attacks and crying jags. Everyone did remark on how bright she was. When she wasn’t with Keith or working, they said she had her nose in a book. At her sentencing, two psychiatrists testified to her high IQ.” She smirked. “Confirming my low opinion of the psychiatric profession.”

  “This makes me feel even sorrier for Leticia. Her life has changed so much since then.”

  “Particularly her hair, which was a gorgeous blond. Not that orange rat’s nest she sports now. In the photos she looks like Rapunzel.” She threw a pitying glance at my brunette locks. “Sorry, my dear, but blondes do have more fun.”

  “Looks like it can get them thrown into prison, too.”

  She laughed. “You have a point. Regardless, at the end of the summer Keith and Ellen announced their engagement.”

  I hadn’t expected that. “So they fell in love.”

  “His parents weren’t happy. I don’t blame them. The Sables were already quite wealthy. Then along comes some teenager with a lot of cleavage. Do you really think it was love?”

  “Why not? They were both young. To them, it probably felt like love.” I took another sip of wine. “What about this nanny? Who was she?”

  “Laeticia Murier from Lyons.”

  I choked on my wine. “Wait a second! The nanny had the same name as our Lake Lady?”

  “Not so loud.” Piper hissed. “The names are the same, but they’re spelled differently. Being French, the nanny used the more common French spelling, which starts with ‘Lae.’ Our Lake Lady dropped the first ‘a.’ Knowing Leticia, the reason for that must be irrational.”

  “Talk about burying the lead. Until this past week, I assumed Leticia was simply her real first name. It was only after Bonaventure came to town looking for Ellen Mulberry that I realized she was using an alias. But if she has chosen to call herself after a dead woman . . .”

  “A woman she murdered,” Piper reminded me. “Let’s not forget the real victim in this story. Laeticia Murier was only twenty-one, here on a student visa. Although I don’t know how much college coursework she ever completed. She worked as Ingrid’s assistant for a year before becoming nanny to Patrick and Ainsley’s infant.”