Mulberry Mischief

by Sharon Farrow

  Andrew and Dean snorted in obvious disbelief. Minnie imitated them.

  “Don’t forget about all those years she spent in prison,” Tess reminded them. “Not much to do there but think, stay alive, and use the prison library.”

  I thought back to my first conversation with Leticia. “She told me that she learned about magic and berries from a roommate. Someone intelligent and multilingual. Obviously, she meant her cellmate. The same one who filled her head with mystical nature lore.”

  “Sounds possible,” Max agreed. “Leticia seems both unstable and clever.”

  “A clever person might take pleasure in using wordplay to both reveal and conceal,” I surmised. “It’s like she’s telling us she means to bring calamity, only we’re too obtuse to see it.”

  “Hiding in plain sight,” David said.

  “If I were the Sables, I’d leave town tonight,” Andrew said.

  “If she is Kikimora, she will find them,” Natasha warned us.

  Minnie let loose with a few deafening wolf whistles. So much for the parrot staying quiet while on my shoulder.

  “The police should have arrested her years ago.” Andrew downed the rest of his iced tea.

  “But until this week, she hasn’t done anything except stand on the beach.”

  “Tess is right,” I said. “She’s acting up because she believes the Sables want to kill her.”

  “Don’t forget about Felix Bonaventure,” David said. “Someone did kill him.”

  “Exactly.” Restless, I got up from my chair and began to walk about the shop. Minnie made kissing sounds in my ear. “I don’t believe she killed her ghostwriter. The manuscript must reveal what she believes really happened to the nanny. She may have witnessed the crime and the Sables somehow forced her to keep quiet.”

  “They probably scared her,” Theo suggested.

  “Yes. They probably did.” I paced back and forth. “She also told me the yacht crew member who testified against her has now admitted he lied. And that he had talked to both her and the ghostwriter.”

  “All we need to do is contact him ourselves,” Max said.

  I frowned. “That might not be so easy. His name is James Smith. With a name that common, it might take some time.”

  “I’ll bet you the Sables know exactly where he is,” Tess said.

  “I bet they do. What if they found out she was writing a tell-all book about the Nanny Murder? A book that implicates one of them. That would put Leticia and the ghostwriter in danger.” I thought back to my conversation with Leticia. “This Smith fellow might also be in trouble. However, she said he was dying. So he may not care if the Sables threaten him.”

  “We definitely need to track down this guy,” Andrew said. “And the manuscript.”

  “You said something about an entertainment reporter.” David reached for the last cookie.

  “The one with the watery name.” Tess looked amused. “Whatever that means.”

  “I know.” I shook my head. “First, she tells me about the ghost and the shadow people. Now a watery reporter. A reporter who told her cousin the Nanny Murder was going to be famous again. Since this is an entertainment reporter, a movie or a miniseries about the murder is probably in the works.”

  “Makes sense,” Andrew said. “True crime is really hot now. But I’ve been googling the Sables and Nanny Murder and haven’t come up with anything about a movie or series.”

  “Could still be in the early stages. But the prospect of this murder being dragged out for public view again pushed Leticia into telling her side of the story.”

  “She did confess to the crime,” Max said.

  “What if it was under duress? If I could figure out who this reporter is, I can try to get in touch with her. After all, I spent a few years in TV myself.”

  “A watery sounding name,” Tess mused. “Rivers, perhaps? Is there a reporter with the last name of Lake or Bay or Ocean?”

  We all thought a moment as I continued to pace.

  Dean and I suddenly looked at each other. “Delta Marsh!” we shouted at the same time.

  “She’s a reporter for a network morning show,” I said excitedly. “Covers all the red carpets, TV, movies. And she’s based in Manhattan. She interviewed me once during the Chaplin murder trial. I’m sure I can track down someone who can help me contact her.”

  “Delta Marsh.” David grinned. “Can’t get more watery than that.”

  “Yes, and she may help me answer some questions about this murder. It’s about time we get a few answers. For example, why are the Sables here?”

  “Uh, Piper commanded their presence,” Max said.

  “But she didn’t command their presence,” I informed him. “Originally, Victor Kang was scheduled to be the health fair’s headliner. He dropped out due to a family emergency. The Sables stepped in as a favor to him. Patrick Sable and Kang went to school together.”

  “Doesn’t sound all that sinister, Marlee,” David said.

  Tess and I glanced at each other. “But it does seem a little too convenient,” she said.

  “Exactly,” Minnie piped up.

  Stroking my talkative bird’s head, I replied, “I agree with you and Minnie. I don’t care how friendly they are with Victor Kang, why is the entire Sable family willing to come to a health fair in a small resort town? A town I bet they never even heard of before last month.”

  “Kang, Kang, Kang, Kang,” Minnie repeated.

  “Do you think they came to Oriole Point to find the manuscript?” Dean righted one of the cloth pumpkins on the floor I had knocked aside while pacing.

  “Yes. Given that Bonaventure is dead, they plan to permanently silence Leticia, too.”

  “I think she’s smarter than they are.”

  Max turned to look at Theo. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because no one can find her,” Theo said. “Not us. Not the police. Not the Sable people. She is smart to find such a good hiding place.”

  “She is what I tell you.” Natasha brushed muffin crumbs from the front of her spangly gold costume. “They will not find her.”

  “The next best thing is finding the manuscript.” I sidestepped a scarecrow propped against the shelf of berry syrups. “I think she hid that, too. She told me the manuscript was safe with the mulberries. My mulberries.” I halted in my tracks.

  “What’s the matter, marzipan?”

  “Whassup, punk?” Minnie muttered.

  “The manuscript is hidden with my mulberries. Leticia made a point of saying that. And she ordered the dried mulberries from me because she thought I possessed some kind of special power bestowed on me by the berries.”

  “You heard it here first,” Andrew announced. “Marlee’s the latest Marvel superhero: the Berry Basket Bomber.”

  Dean threw a cloth pumpkin at him.

  “The dried mulberries on the vendor floor—the same ones she glued on her clothes—they came from the boxes of berries I ordered. She took several bags from one of the boxes, but the other boxes appeared not to have been opened. Only maybe she did open them, then sealed them up so no one would notice.”

  “You think the manuscript is hidden in one of the boxes of dried mulberries,” Tess said.

  I nodded. “Like David said earlier, it could be hiding in plain sight.”

  “I love you,” Minnie said.

  Andrew frowned at me. “If you even think of going back to Leticia’s place alone, I’ll tie you up with a string of Halloween lights.”

  “Don’t worry.” I resumed pacing while Minnie repeated, “la la la la la la.” “Kit is coming to my house for dinner tonight. I’ll ask him to drive me over. This way, the police can’t object about me interfering with a crime scene.”

  Max chuckled. “Even though that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”

  “How can I interfere if a sheriff’s deputy is helping me? Besides, once we find the manuscript, we’ll know which member of the Sable family we should be most afraid of.”

&n
bsp; Natasha shook her finger at me. “You must be afraid of Kikimora, too.”

  Minnie gave a loud whistle, then added, “Be a good girl.”

  I kissed the top of her gray feathered head. “I’ll try, sweetie. I’ll try.”

  “Why does your Kikimora like mulberries so much?” Natasha asked. “In Russia, mulberry is not favorite berry to eat.”

  “It has nothing to do with their taste,” I told her. “The Lake Lady thinks mulberries have protective powers.” I suddenly remembered the mulberry bracelet Leticia gave me in the vendor room. I pulled it out of my pocket, running my fingers over the dried berries. “She wanted them because she’s worried the same person who killed Laeticia Murier may end up killing her, too.”

  Natasha sat up so straight, her diadem fell off. “Laeticia Murier?”

  “She’s the French nanny who worked for the Sables almost thirty years ago. Our Lake Lady went to prison for pushing her off a boat.” I stopped in front of Natasha. “Why do you look so funny?”

  “Is because of name. Murier.” She seemed baffled by our lack of response. “I don’t understand. None of you know French?”

  “Not unless a French word came up in a spelling bee,” I said, a bit embarrassed.

  “Smeshnoy. Ridiculous. I learn three languages by the time I am ten. You Americans can be so lenivyy.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “Murier is French word. Means ‘mulberry tree.’”

  The rest of us looked at each other, while Minnie repeated, “Be a good girl” in my ear.

  “So our Leticia not only adopted the dead woman’s first name,” Tess said, “she took her last name as a sign that mulberries could protect her.”

  I shook my head. “I wish I’d taken French in high school instead of German. If I had, I would have understood her obsession with mulberries sooner.”

  “I doubt it would have kept Felix Bonaventure alive,” Dean said.

  Perhaps not. But with luck, mulberries might lead me to Leticia. Before the killer found her first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’ve never heard Minnie be this quiet,” I joked. “Not even when she’s sleeping.”

  Kit smiled. “She doesn’t know what to make of the little fellow.”

  Minnie sat on her perch, watching the black kitten scamper about the kitchen floor. It was hard to read avian expressions, but it looked like Minnie didn’t know whether to be excited by this adorable furry creature, or nervous about him. I stopped by Aunt Vicki’s to pick up Panther on the way home. Minnie was happily singing Barbara Ann from her travel cage in the backseat when I brought the kitten into the SUV. She’d been silent or muttering to herself ever since.

  Instead of Minnie’s comments, the sound of tinkling bells filled the air as Panther batted a little plastic ball with bells inside. Aunt Vicki not only reassured me that the vet had given the kitten a clean bill of health, she insisted I take enough cat food, dishes, and toys to fill a small pet shop. Meanwhile, I had eaten enough Kung Pao shrimp to satisfy three people.

  I intended to cook dinner for Kit, but he got back from his trip to the prison earlier than expected and was as ravenous as I was. After taking a quick shower, Kit appeared at my front door with a big carryout bag from a local favorite, Peking Palace.

  Both of us were famished. For the first few minutes, we kept our conversation confined to the animals and things like “pass me another egg roll.”

  The kitten dashed after the ball again, prompting Minnie to murmur, “No, no, no, no.”

  After wolfing down my second serving of rice and shrimp, I finally sat back. “That tasted good. I never got around to lunch.”

  Kit took a swig of root beer. “How did your berry talk go at the health fair?”

  “Postponed until tomorrow.” I launched into an account of my conversation with Leticia in the vendor room, the smoke bombs, and the mad rush toward the exit doors.

  When I was finished, Kit got up from his tall stool and gave me a tight hug. “I think I should handcuff you to me so I can keep you safe.”

  I laughed. “David the chipmunk did a good job of that today.”

  “I may have to deputize him.”

  “He’d love that, especially if he can wear his costume.” I patted his chest. “Finish your General Tso’s chicken while I tell you about my plans. Don’t look worried. They include you.”

  “Please don’t say you want to help Leticia.” Kit sat back down at the kitchen island. “I know you feel sorry for her, but this stunt shows how dangerous she is. To others and herself.”

  “I agree. But I don’t believe she killed Felix Bonaventure. And I doubt she killed the nanny. The answers are in that manuscript she took with her. A manuscript she hid with my mulberries. And I did leave four huge boxes of dried mulberries on her porch.”

  The kitten pounced on the ball, letting out a triumphant little meow. Minnie whistled in response, then said, “Whassup, punk?”

  “You think she hid the manuscript in there?” He looked doubtful. “But only one of the boxes had been opened. You told us several bags of berries had been taken.”

  “The berries she took were the same ones glued onto her clothes. She probably thought pasting them onto her body would protect her.”

  “We looked inside the opened box. And the other boxes were taped shut.”

  “Were they? It wouldn’t be difficult to slice open one of the boxes, hide the manuscript inside, then seal it up with tape to make it appear it hadn’t been tampered with.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Have the police been watching the house since we discovered the body yesterday morning?”

  Kit smiled. “Marlee, it’s a crime scene, not a stakeout. We had law enforcement all over that property yesterday. A half dozen officers searched the woods again today. There’s no reason to watch the house constantly. We’ll check the property again tomorrow, but our time is better spent trying to track down Leticia.”

  Panther scampered toward me. When he reached my kitchen stool, he sat down, looking up at me with those beautiful green eyes. “Meow!”

  I scooped him up just as Minnie mimicked the kitten’s meow.

  “Good job, Minnie,” I told her, cuddling the kitten against my neck.

  In response, Minnie let out a series of high-pitched barks.

  Kit chuckled. “Minnie has found her voice again. Only it sounds canine.”

  “And I think we may find the manuscript in one of those boxes on her porch.”

  “It won’t hurt to look.”

  “Good. Since we ate so early, we can go before it gets dark.” I hopped off the stool. With one hand, I cuddled Panther and cleared the dishes from my side of the island with the other.

  Kit held up a dish. “Do you want another egg roll?”

  I kissed him on the cheek. “They’re all yours. Go ahead and finish dinner. That will give me time to bring Panther’s litter box, food, and water into my bedroom. Until he and Minnie get accustomed to each other, it’s the safest place for him to be when I’m not around.”

  It took five minutes to set things up in my bedroom, followed by five minutes of playing with Panther. I had already changed my clothes from the ones I wore to the health fair, so I didn’t have to do anything but brush my teeth and give Panther one last kiss.

  When I returned to the kitchen, Minnie’s vocalizations were in full swing, “Give me a kiss!” she ordered. “Ba-ba-ba Ba-ba ba-Ran.”

  “She’s making up for the half hour of silence.” Kit looked up from stacking the dishwasher. I loved men who cleaned up after themselves.

  “So I hear.” I scratched Minnie’s head, eliciting several lip-smacking noises.

  Since Kit had finished clearing the kitchen, I busied myself with wrapping up the leftover shrimp, chicken, and rice. “You didn’t tell me what you learned at the prison.”

  “Not as much as I expected. Most of the staff has turned over since Leticia, a.k.a. Ellen Nagy, was released. And she was initially incarcerated in another prison, whic
h has since shut down. I had better luck at the state psychiatric hospital. One of the psychiatrists assigned to the prison now works at the hospital. Given the notoriety of the case, she remembers Leticia. She saw her off and on for two years. Usually when Leticia’s complaints about being in danger from the so-called ‘shadow people’ became too much for prison personnel to handle.”

  “I don’t think there’s any doubt the Sables are the shadow people.”

  “She could blame them for having her locked away.”

  I put the leftovers in the refrigerator. “Only she confessed to the murder.”

  “A shame you didn’t ask her about the confession when you had the chance.”

  “If I see her again, I will. Did the psychiatrist allow you to look at her medical records?”

  “I’d need a court order for that. But she did paint a general picture of her former patient.”

  “What exactly is wrong with her?” I asked. “Paranoid schizophrenia?”

  Kit closed the dishwasher door. “The psychiatrist says no. However, Leticia does suffer from persecutory delusions. People afflicted with this disorder are convinced someone is trying to harm them. They feel compelled to report these fears to the authorities. Her prison record does note that she often complained people wanted her dead.”

  “Sounds like schizophrenia.”

  “Except she doesn’t hear voices and seems perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She also doesn’t imagine that things are happening to her, at least not to our knowledge.”

  “Leticia is convinced the Sables are the real threat. What if she’s right?”

  “That’s why we have to track her down.”

  “We also need to track down James Smith, the bosun.” I explained how Smith had apparently decided to come clean and admit he had lied to the police. And that he had spoken with both Leticia and Bonaventure. “The sooner we find him, the sooner we’ll learn the truth.”

  “I’ll get the department right on it.” He gave me a rueful look. “I only wish he had a name other than James Smith. It is literally the most common name in the U.S.”

  The doorbell rang through the house.