A wave of disgust swept over me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Kit put his arm around me. “Sorry if this upset you. But you’ve been involved from the beginning, I assumed you’d want to know the killer had practiced before taking action.”
“No. I’m glad you showed me. It may prove Leticia is the killer. After all, she had access to the pumpkin patch after the Rasmussens left.”
Had Leticia been so concerned about the coming arrival of the Sables that she practiced how to defend herself? I told Kit what I had learned from my dinner at San Sebastian. As I did, his expression grew more somber.
“Yesterday we were all briefed on the murder of Laeticia Murier,” he said when I finished. “Leticia, formerly known as Ellen Nagy, must have known the Sables were coming to town. After all, Piper never stopped promoting their appearance. Even in New Bethel.”
This made me feel even more guilty. Immersed in plumbing and home renovation, I hadn’t paid a scrap of attention. Apparently, Gillian and I were the only ones in town—or Oriole County—who had been unaware the celebrated Sables were on the way here.
“It makes sense if she had shot one of the Sables with an arrow. According to Piper, Leticia views them as dangerous. And I think they’re the shadow people she mentioned to me. But that doesn’t explain why she would kill Felix Bonaventure.”
“No idea. When the police searched his condo in Philadelphia, there was no computer.”
My eyes widened. “What author doesn’t own a computer? Someone got to his hotel room and his condo before the police did and took away his computer. Along with the files on it.” I stopped. “This is all about the manuscript Bonaventure wrote with Leticia. It has to be.”
“Seems likely. He was a true crime writer. Leticia was at the center of a famous true crime. Maybe she wanted her version of the story to be told. It is telling that he arrived in Oriole Point the same week as the Sables.”
“He was desperate to meet with Ellen Mulberry. Then I find a manuscript in Leticia’s house written by an Ellen Mulberry. They must have been collaborating, and he needed to see her as soon as possible.”
“I wonder if the Sables found out the two of them were working on a book together,” he mused as we resumed walking. “Maybe the Sables threatened Bonaventure with a lawsuit.”
“Maybe.” Panther batted at my chin with his paw. “But what could Leticia say now that would matter? According to Piper, Leticia had confessed to murdering the nanny.”
“Not at first. For a week after the murder, she was almost catatonic. The girl had been so traumatized, she was put on suicide watch and medicated. When she finally did speak, she told the police little, except that she was innocent.”
“When did she confess?’ I asked.
“About two weeks into the trial.”
“But why didn’t suspicion fall on any of the other passengers that night?”
“The bosun, James Smith, told police that he heard two women arguing on deck. Given the poor weather conditions, he went to check it out. He got there in time to see Ellen push the nanny over the side.”
“What! He actually witnessed the murder?” I thought back to last night’s conversation with Piper. She thought the bosun might have seen something incriminating. Since he had viewed the murder itself, I had to look on Piper’s memory as worse than spotty.
“Apparently. Ellen collapsed in hysterics while he sounded the alarm and tried to rescue Laeticia Murier. By the time they pulled her out of the water, it was too late.”
As much as I wanted to believe Leticia was innocent, this piece of news was damning. “I assume there was no reason to doubt the testimony of the bosun.”
Kit took a moment to answer. “On the surface, no. At the time of the murder, Smith had worked for the Sable family for almost three years, crewing their yachts in the Caribbean. They hired him when he was twenty-four, as a favor to Ainsley Sable.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Smith was the brother of Ainsley’s favorite stylist. He’d gotten into trouble in college when he discovered cocaine. After he went to rehab, he decided he wanted to go into yachting. Ainsley asked her in-laws to hire him for one of their super-yachts. He seems to have been good at his job. He worked his way up to bosun in two years. The year after the murder, he was made Chief Officer.” Kit paused. “And the following year he moved up to captain.”
We looked at each other. “Was that rapid rise due to his skills?” I asked. “Or a reward for services rendered? The Sables might have asked him to lie about the murder. And they rewarded him by handing over one of their luxury yachts.”
“I agree. Entrusting a ninety-million-dollar yacht to a young man, who three years earlier was a cocaine addict? It does look suspicious. But we can’t forget that Ellen confessed.”
“I wonder why she waited two weeks into the trial before she confessed.”
“Most likely on the advice of her attorney. In addition to the bosun’s testimony, the accounts given by the Sables about her being jealous of the nanny were difficult to refute.”
“Naturally, the family would stick together. And they’re rich, famous, and powerful. Who knows what sort of pressure was brought to bear on a teenager accused of murder? And Piper said she was extremely sensitive, prone to anxiety attacks.”
“It’s not my job to retry the case of a murdered nanny, Marlee. My immediate concern is tracking down the killer of Felix Bonaventure.”
“It seems like they’re connected. Solve one murder, and the other one is solved, too.”
“We know who killed the nanny,” he reminded me.
“Do we?” I looked down at Panther, who had fallen asleep in my arms. “What if the bosun was paid to lie? And Ellen was pressured to confess?”
“I still need a viable suspect.”
“I can think of several, all with the last name of Sable.”
“Before I can go after the Sables, I require evidence pointing in their direction.”
I was pretty sure I had held that evidence in my hands two days ago. A manuscript called Mischief and Murder.
Chapter Eleven
The pumpkin lady with the stethoscope once again greeted me. Apparently, she was the Haunted Harvest Halloween Health Fair mascot. Although I wondered if I’d forgotten one of the fair’s “H” words. The colorful sign’s grimace seemed to deepen, as if contemptuous of my arrival at the Lyall Conference Center.
Cars filled the large parking lot, and it took several minutes before I found an empty space. The fair’s popularity made me happy for Piper and Oriole Point. A successful event such as this helped to bring people here year-round. In addition, the view from the conference center and its surrounding gardens—which overlooked Lake Michigan—was certain to impress first-time visitors. Piper’s own mansion sat on a similar bluff with a view just as spectacular.
However, I still preferred my lakeside home. The bluff wasn’t as looming, but wooden stairs led to my private beach. I wondered how Panther would like the lake. Dogs loved to run along the beach, but I had never seen a cat do the same. Maybe Panther would be the first. He seemed both fearless and lovable.
When I left the pumpkin farm this morning, he immediately fell asleep on the makeshift bed I put together from the beach towels kept in my vehicle. He’d also been playful and affectionate with Aunt Vicki when I dropped him off at her house on the way to work.
The vet was scheduled to stop by Humane Hearts today, a perfect time for her to check out the kitten. I reminded myself to buy kitten chow along with food and water dishes.
Once I parked, I spent a minute picking cat hairs off my sweater. My feathered necklace was gone. Because Panther seemed enthralled by it, I’d given it to Aunt Vicki. If he did get nervous in his new surroundings, a little playtime with my cardinal feathers might distract him. Right now I had to stop being distracted by kittens and focus on my upcoming talk.
Due to my impulsive adoption of a rescue kitten, Aunt Vicki would not be able to a
ttend my workshop today. That suited me fine. The fewer faces in the crowd, the better.
I spotted several school buses in the lot. The fair planned to host a number of events for students; everything from classes on healthy snacking to workshops about how to identify and treat mental-health issues, such as depression, anxiety, and eating disorders. I also knew costume contests were on the schedule, accompanied by various raffles and fun prizes. Piper had been thorough in putting together the event. Yes, she was a control freak, but no one worked harder to keep Oriole Point on the map.
When I reached the entrance to the conference center, a sandwich board stood beside the door listing those workshop sessions scheduled for the day. One of them was The Benefits of Berries by Marlee Jacob. The sessions scheduled opposite me included Feng Shui for the Office, Meditation and Pain Relief, and Seasonal Juicing for Good Health. A separate sandwich board announced the workshops and book signings of the Sable family. Thank goodness I had stayed up late putting together my presentation.
Once inside, I admired the striking design of the center. The glass-domed roof ensured that natural light always filled the building even when an event required portable partition walls to be moved into place, as they were now. To accommodate larger events, two annex wings branched off on either side of the main building.
As a nod to the season, carved jack-o’-lanterns dotted the floor of the main hall. Black bats and owls with amber eyes dangled from wires, fake cobwebs with plastic spiders draped the walls, and two human skeletons hung on either side of the hallway leading to the banquet room.
To underline the Halloween theme, every person sporting a VOLUNTEER badge wore a costume. A zombie handed out water bottles by the door, two vampires blended fruit smoothies at a temporary juice bar in the center of the atrium, and a pirate—complete with fake parrot on his shoulder—offered visitors fresh apples. My friend Tess had informed me that she was volunteering at the fair today. Only she hadn’t mentioned anything about coming in costume. I wondered who—or what—she was dressed as.
I glanced down at my black slacks, red cashmere pullover, and black velour pumps. Were we supposed to come in costume? In order to check out the attire of my fellow workshop speakers, I hurried over to the nearest closed session door. The white sign read “Yoga for Weight Loss with Rowena Bouchet.” Rowena ran a yoga studio in town and held classes on the beach during nice weather. I attended as many as possible.
Peeking inside, I saw several dozen people stretched on mats as Rowena led them into the next pose. Rowena wore her usual workout clothes. Relieved, I shut the door. Good. I wasn’t required to dress in costume. Now I needed to find out where I was supposed to go for my session.
Due to the crowd, I had to crane my neck to see above all the heads. Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned around. Letting out a small shriek, I jumped back.
Pennywise, the terrifying clown from Stephen King’s It, stood before me.
“Can I help you?” he said in a whisper. A VOLUNTEER badge was pinned to his creepy white clown costume. Not a good costume choice for a wellness fair.
“I’m giving a workshop soon,” I said. “Don’t I have to check in somewhere first?”
He responded with a chilling stare.
I looked closer, trying to discern which Oriole Point resident lay hidden beneath the heavy clown makeup. “Who are you?”
“Pennywise,” he intoned. Then he added in a normal tone of voice, “It’s me, marzipan.”
Only one person called me “marzipan.” My high school boyfriend, Max Riordan, who ran Riordan Outfitters at the town marina.
“Max, you scared me.” I gave him a playful punch.
“Great costume, isn’t it? I saw your face. You almost screamed.”
“What did you expect? And you may want to think twice about who you sneak up on.” I looked around at the crowd, a fair number of whom were seniors. “Otherwise someone may need one of the paramedics teaching emergency aid here.”
He grinned. “C’mon. Anyone who faced a few killers this past summer can stand up to a fictional clown. Hey, I heard about the body found in Leticia the Lake Lady’s field. And that you, Theo, and Kit were the ones to discover it.”
“How did you find out? The local news in Holland and Grand Rapids only mentioned that a dead man was found in Oriole County.” I caught sight of Dean making his way through the crowd toward one of the wings. “Don’t bother to answer. I see Dean, so mystery solved.”
“This may come as a shocker, but it wasn’t Dean who told me. It was Theo. I spoke to him about fifteen minutes ago.”
Max was right. I was shocked. I shook my head at his sinister appearance. “Theo hates horror movies. I can’t believe he came anywhere near someone dressed as Pennywise.”
“Unlike my former girlfriend, Theo knew who I was right away.” Max pointed to the bushy red clown wig. “It seems my actual red hair looks just like this to him.”
I laughed. “That must have been a blow to the ego.”
“I kinda like the costume. It covers up my freckles. But he told me how worried you were about the Lake Lady. He thought I’d help you find her.”
“That was sweet of Theo.” I looked around the crowded atrium. “Do you know where he went?”
“He was heading to the parking lot to eat lunch. He bought a sandwich, but wanted to eat it in his car.” Max shrugged. “Seemed like something Theo would do.”
“Yes, it does. Why did he think you could help?”
“Because I work at the marina and spend a lot of time by the lake. He asked me to keep an eye out for Leticia and her scooter. Sooner or later, Theo thinks she’ll come back to the beach. If so, I have a good chance of seeing her. He’s not wrong. Me and the boys get to the harbor before dawn when there are fishing trips scheduled. Gives us time to get all the gear assembled for the charters. And I have seen Leticia drive by in the early morning on that purple scooter.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“The day the health fair had those booths in the park. Only she drove through town later.”
“She came to see me.” I bit my lip. “Theo is right. I am worried about her. If you or the guys at the marina do see her, let me know.”
“Are you going to let me know what this is all about, marzipan?”
“I can’t right now. It’s almost time for my workshop. Luckily, I had Dean bring products from the shop here earlier today. Only I have to figure out where they’re being stored.”
Max took me by the shoulders and turned me around. “Go to the table where Wonder Woman stands guard. She’ll check you in and tell you where to go.”
“Thanks.” I held up a warning finger. “And try not to scare too many people.”
“I can’t promise.” Max reverted to his intimidating evil clown voice. “But I may sneak in to your berry talk.”
“Don’t you dare. They won’t pay attention to a word I say if you do.”
He gave an evil laugh. Honestly, some people didn’t know how to handle a Halloween costume.
Before I got waylaid by another Stephen King character, I made my way to the conference check-in table guarded by Wonder Woman. Once I was face-to-face with her, I saw she was none other than Tess Nakamura, one of the finest glass artists in the region—and my best friend.
Like me, Tess normally wore her usual work garb: the Oriole Glass Studio’s orange T-shirt and black jeans. Seeing her in a snug Wonder Woman outfit—complete with knee-high boots and golden armguards—came as something of a surprise. Tess didn’t often reveal her killer body to this extent. Nor did she ever cover up her short asymmetrical haircut with a black wig, especially one this long and exaggerated.
“You look like a cross between Wonder Woman and Cher,” I told her.
Tess laughed. “It’s actually a Morticia wig I borrowed from my sister-in-law. And I wondered when you were going to show up. Your workshop will be held in Annex B, Room Ten.” She rifled through one of the boxes on the table and p
ulled out a black lanyard. “Here’s your conference ID.”
“Thanks.” I slipped the lanyard over my head. “I just ran into Max.”
Tess made a face. “His costume’s a little intense.”
“Tell me about it. Anyone else here that I know?”
“Piper and Lionel, of course.”
“Of course.”
“This morning Denise Redfern gave a workshop on Native American healing traditions.”
“Sounds intriguing. I wish I’d been here.”
“A whole bunch of Oriole Point people will be at the center all week. Because there was no way to fit glassblowing into a health fair, I thought the least I could do was help out.” She gave me a wry look. “Also Piper came to the studio last week and guilted David and me into volunteering. If you visit the vendor room, David is the chipmunk helping to bag purchases.”
The image made me giggle. “Where did David get a chipmunk costume?”
“He bought it during our trip to Disney World last year. I knew David loved Chip ’n Dale cartoons, but not to this extent.” She sighed. “He plans to wear it when giving out candy every Halloween. And he’s wearing it in the Halloween Parade. This means I have to spend all my birthdays in the company of a giant chipmunk.”
Like me, Tess’s birthday fell on a holiday, only she had been born on Halloween. “It could have been worse. What if he’d been a fan of Donald Duck?”
She smirked. “Six of one, half dozen of the other.”
“Is there anyone else I know in costume here today?”
“Natasha. She’s a moderator for two of the Sable beauty products sessions. You can’t miss her. She’s dressed as Cleopatra. There’s even a fake asp attached to her gold belt. I’m impressed by her attention to detail.”
Hearing Natasha volunteered for Piper’s health fair startled me as much as Pennywise tapping me on the shoulder. Former Russian beauty queen Natasha became a rich widow several months ago. Since then she had spent most of her time enjoying her freedom and her newfound wealth. In other words, shopping.
No one blamed her. Natasha’s husband had been an obnoxious brute, albeit a rich one. When he died, no one in town mourned, including his young widow. And being a moderator for the Sable beauty products session did make sense. Not only was Natasha the queen of personal grooming, she planned to open a spa soon. By volunteering at one of the Sable beauty sessions, she probably hoped to pick up valuable information, along with free products.
Mulberry Mischief Page 11
