“But that’s what I want to talk to you about,” Judy continued. “I want police protection. Sally and I both do. We could have been the targets. We could have been killed. You must talk with that deputy. She just laughed when I did, but maybe she’d listen to you.”
“I don’t think it will help you, but I’ll speak with her when I see her,” Susan said, knowing it would do absolutely no good. “But why would someone want to kill you or Sally … ?”
“There’s Sally now,” Judy interrupted. “I hope she talked the men into leaving.”
Sally was walking around the dancers, waving at them. “We’re going to leave. Ryan and Paul are exhausted after the race today, and Tricia will probably insist that we attend some of the town’s celebration tomorrow.…”
“Oh, yes, that’s what we’re here for. To see one of the last old-fashioned Fourth of July celebrations in America or some such garbage. How Norman Rockwell!” Judy yawned. “Let’s go.”
Susan said good night and stayed in her chair, her eyes moving from the two couples to Theresa and Tierney. The girls were having a wonderful night. One of the nicest things about Maine is that people always have time for what’s important, like paying attention to children. She saw a group of women carrying plates out of the kitchen to tables that had been set up on the stage at one end of the room, and got up to offer her help. Tomorrow she would have to figure out a way to protect Titania while allowing her to participate in some of the day’s activities.
All three girls should have a chance to participate in “the last old-fashioned Fourth of July celebration in America”—before they really did become just an artist’s rendering of the past.
FOURTEEN
“I admit it, you were right. It was worth it. There was something about the sunrise over the water and the dancers swirling around.…”
“And the happy faces of those two in the backseat,” Susan added.
“Definitely that,” Kathleen agreed. “They’re charming little girls. I just wish Titania wasn’t missing all this.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, and I have a plan,” Susan said, steering her car carefully over the winding roads.
“Well, just let me know what I need to do.”
“I will.”
They drove along in silence for a while, with Susan remembering other Fourth of July celebrations, and Kathleen dozing lightly.
“I feel,” Susan started quietly, “that we’re missing something major and that, if we find it, everything will fall together and we’ll have our murderer.”
Kathleen peeked over her shoulder into the backseat.
“Don’t worry. They’re dead to the world. You know how children sleep.”
“Well, then,” Kathleen whispered, “I’ve been thinking about it, too. Maybe we should look for motive. Everyone at the Taylor house had the opportunity and the means to kill Humphrey, but who had the motive?”
“Ted, certainly,” Susan said even more quietly. “Revenge for taking his wife and family—and his dream house, for that matter. Maybe he killed his brother hoping to get it all back. It’s certainly possible.”
“I hate to say it, but it’s probable. That’s got to be where Janet is looking.”
“But there must be others,” Susan insisted. “What if Humphrey found out about Sally and Paul? One of them might have killed him to make sure their relationship remained a secret.”
“Why is it a secret? There are no children involved. Why don’t they just get two divorces and remarry?”
“Good question. I suppose one of them doesn’t want that to happen—or maybe they’re both happy being married and having an affair on the side. Would someone commit a murder just to maintain the status quo? Have you been thinking about the shooting, too?”
“Yes, but wait,” Kathleen suggested. “We should consider Tricia’s motive first. She might have discovered that she didn’t love Humphrey after all—that she’d made a mistake.”
“So she kills him? Why not just get another divorce?” Susan asked. “Why did she suddenly fall in love with Humphrey in the first place? No one seems terribly impressed with him. What made her suddenly give up her first marriage and leap into a second anyway?”
“Just because outsiders don’t understand the attraction doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.” Kathleen, a beautiful young woman very happily married to an older widower, reminded her. “Besides, she didn’t lose all that much. She has primary responsibility for her children, both houses.… All she did was exchange one brother for the other.”
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it.” Susan drove along, wondering who had gained from Humphrey’s death, until Kathleen asked a question.
“Do you think the murder was planned or that it happened on impulse?”
“Probably planned.” The answer came slowly. “Humphrey was probably lured over to my house on some pretext or other and then killed. The house wasn’t occupied at the time, and no one except Burt knew when we would show up. It was possible that the body might not be discovered for some time.”
“Maybe.” Kathleen sounded doubtful. “It’s really too bad that we haven’t been able to get hold of Burt Jamison.”
“You think this had to do with the house being just half-opened? I was wondering about that myself. Do you think someone killed Humphrey in the living room and then put the shutters back up—but why? What sense would that make?”
“None. If we had some sense, we’d have some answers—and we might know who killed Humphrey.”
“How about the shooting yesterday?” Susan asked, thinking that they had fit a week’s worth of activities into the last twenty-four hours. “I’ve been wondering if we have any idea where either Ted or Tricia were during that time.”
“Supposedly Ryan and Paul were both in their kayaks racing around the island. If it had to do with our group of suspects, it must have been Ted or Tricia. We should find out. Surely …” Kathleen started, and then stopped.
“You’re right.” Susan agreed with what Kathleen hadn’t said. “It couldn’t be Titania. She’s only thirteen, for heaven’s sake.”
“I just hope her age protects her from the sniper,” Kathleen said.
“We have to hurry and figure this out.”
“And watch after these two and try to get their older sister to some of the activities so that she has something good to remember about this time, et cetera, et cetera. How do you expect to get all this done?” Kathleen muttered.
“We’re mothers. We’re good at doing a lot of things at the same time,” Susan reminded her friend, a determined look on her face.
“Did you see that sign? We just passed it,” Kathleen asked as they arrived on the island.
“The one announcing the ‘Red, White, and Blueberry Breakfast’ at the Grange hall? It’s a waffle breakfast. They serve huge Belgian waffles with blueberries, strawberries, and whipped cream. You’re not hungry, are you?” she asked, disbelief in her eyes.
“We are.” Theresa spoke from the backseat, surprising the women.
“We’re starving,” her sister confirmed.
“Well, we can’t have starvation on the Fourth of July,” Susan said. “Let’s stop—if you’re sure you don’t need to get home and finish your float. The parade starts at noon, you know.”
“Oh, it’s been finished …” Tierney began, and then stopped, giving her sister a guilty look.
“I think they already know,” Theresa said to her sister, and then turned to the adults. “You had Mrs. Shapiro call off the search, didn’t you? I heard someone talking about it at the dance. How did you figure out where Titania was hiding?”
“I should have realized earlier than I did,” Susan answered. “Karma would never have happily gone into the boathouse unless Titania was already in there. That dog is a social beast. And, then, there was food missing from my kitchen.”
“We really should go back to her,” Theresa said.
“Don’t worry. Halsey’s been lookin
g after your sister—and she’s a great cook. They’re probably sitting in my kitchen eating blueberry pancakes this minute.”
“We are still not going to talk to you about Titania,” Theresa assured them.
“That’s right. We promised her,” Tierney agreed.
“Then why don’t I drop you three off at the breakfast and then head on home to make sure everything’s okay there. I can come back and pick you up in an hour. To be honest, if I eat one more meal, my jeans are going to burst.”
“Great!” Kathleen picked up the cue as the car pulled into the parking lot of the pretty white hall. Red, white, and blue crepe billowed from the rafters, pots of geraniums were perched on every windowsill, and trios of American flags hung on either side of the deep blue front door.
“Wow. I think I smell whipped cream,” Tierney yelled, spilling out of the car. She was followed closely by her sister.
“They do serve coffee, don’t they?” Kathleen asked, slamming the car door behind her.
Susan was surprised to find Ted Taylor sitting in the light blue rocker on her front porch.
“I had to get away,” he said. The early morning sun caused his red beard to sparkle, and Susan remembered how she had first spied Titania’s shining cap of hair across the cove.
“I thought you were staying at the inn,” Susan said, confused.
“I spent the night in my … in my house,” he explained, looking a little embarrassed. “After all, she was my wife for years, and I did design and build that house.…”
“You don’t have to explain to me.”
“Everything would have been fine if our houseguests hadn’t returned in the middle of the night,” he ended rather belligerently, and then calmed down. “I’m sorry. I’m a little high-strung today.”
“That’s certainly understandable,” Susan said, thinking that this problem was his own damn fault. “Did you just want to get away or did you want to see me for something special?” She was anxious to get inside, to see if there was any sign of Titania—or Halsey—or even Karma.
“I just wanted to get away,” he repeated, staring across the cove.
Susan dropped down in another rocker, resting her head and closing her eyes. What made members of this family mistake her home for a retreat? she wondered. She couldn’t go inside in case Ted wanted to join her and they discovered his daughter. She decided to ask some questions. If nothing else, maybe he would take offense and leave. “Were you at the race yesterday afternoon? The kayak race around the island?” she asked.
“No. I was wandering around one of the large cemeteries in the middle of the island. It always amazes me how many cemeteries there are here. This island must have been a busy place at one time.”
“Very. But the main industries, shipping, fishing, quarrying granite, became smaller and smaller, or, in the case of shipping, nonexistent. Everyone left. But what did you expect to find in the cemetery?”
“Peace. Quiet. The same thing I was looking for this morning, I guess.” He looked over at her. “What else do you want to ask me?”
“Do you know where Tricia was during that time?”
“You are investigating systematically, aren’t you?”
He sounded a little sarcastic, and Susan resented it. “You asked me for help,” she reminded him angrily.
“You’re right and I apologize. Trish was probably at the end of the race—the yacht club. At least that’s where she told me she was going to be.”
“No one saw her there.”
“I can’t help that,” he answered.
“Then maybe you can tell me something else. Why are the Brianes here? And the Harters?”
“The Brianes are here because Paul and I were good friends. You’ve been asking a lot of questions, so I’m sure you’ve heard about that. Paul is always talking about a certain camping trip we once took with Humphrey and Chesapeake.…”
“Who?”
“Our dog. Well, Paul has turned that trip into part of his own personal mythology; he probably recites that story for all of his patients at one time or another. I just thought it would be nice for Humphrey if Paul was along. Of course, I’d forgotten what a bitch Judy can be. And Paul said something about the Harters moving to Boston, and I guess everyone felt the more the merrier, and that’s how Sally and Ryan happened to get invited. Why?”
Susan ignored his question. “Did you know that Paul and Sally are having an affair?”
“Really? You’re sure? Why, that old scoundrel. So that’s why he wanted the Harters here. I’ll be damned.” He smiled broadly.
Susan wondered why she got the impression that this new information caused him some relief. “You didn’t know about it then?”
“No, but I sure wish I had. Not that having the Harters here hasn’t made everything easier for Trish—you know that Sally was her college roommate, don’t you?”
Susan nodded.
“Trish has needed friends around. Things have been very difficult for her the past few months.”
“Do you mean that she’d decided that marrying your brother was a mistake?”
“Not really a mistake as such,” he answered slowly. “But it’s been very difficult with the girls and everything. You know about that. And it was difficult for Humphrey to adjust to being back here, I think.”
“Why did he come back?” Susan asked.
“Why?” Ted seemed surprised by the question. “I guess he just wanted to come home, got tired of living abroad and all. Most people get more conservative as they grow older, and then they want to return to the things they grew up with, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” Susan said absently. She was listening to the sound of a car coming closer. “I think I’d better check—” she began, getting up.
“I guess you’re finally settled in,” Ted said, looking around the porch.
“What?”
“Everything’s put away. Even the pile of stuff that was dumped here in the corner.
“I guess I’d better be getting back, too,” he added, as Susan realized simultaneously that the float the girls had built was missing and that Janet Shapiro was joining them.
“I’d better be getting back home,” Ted repeated, after greeting Janet. “You’ll know where to find me if you need me,” he added to both women.
“Would you answer just one more question?” Susan asked, and continued when he nodded. “Did you hate your brother?”
“No.” The words came out slowly. “I loved my brother. At one time, when I was a kid, I loved him more than anything in the world.” He nodded and then left.
Susan and Janet watched him cross the lawn, walking toward the path that led to his dream house.
“You think you know who did it, don’t you?” Janet asked when Susan didn’t speak for a while.
“There are things that don’t fit. Every time I think I’ve got an answer, I realize there are pieces hanging all over the place.”
“Sounds like you may be closer than I am. I sure hope so. We don’t have much time, you know. A murderer on the loose is a real threat to kill again. Where’d you lose Kathleen and the two Taylor girls, by the way?”
Susan explained their whereabouts, and then asked her own question. “Where’s the float?”
“Downtown in the garage of a friend of mine, waiting for the parade to start. Aren’t you going to ask about Titania and Halsey? You don’t have to. Happens they’re the same place the other two girls are. Don’t worry. Halsey’s family is running the kitchen at the breakfast this year. They’ll keep Titania safe and out of sight.”
“I keep wondering if she has the missing piece of the puzzle.… I need some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Went to the square dancing, did you?” Janet chuckled. “Why don’t we join Halsey and the girls? We can go in the back way—remember you’re traveling with the sheriff’s deputy.”
Susan put away thoughts of a shower, clean clothing, a nap. At least the coffee would be good if the Downin
gs had anything to do with making it. “Let’s go. Maybe you can fill me in on some things as we drive.”
“Like what?”
“Like what you’ve found out about the shooting yesterday. I keep coming back to that. Could any of the Taylors have taken those shots? Or maybe Ryan?”
“Why don’t you ask about Paul? Even if you believe his story about capsizing, he could have had his accident less than halfway around, paddled back, hidden his craft—an ideal boat for concealing a rifle, by the way—taken those shots, and then vanished. Everyone who saw him paddle said he was exceptionally proficient and very strong. And traveling by land and traveling by water are two entirely different things; what’s a short distance by land is a real trip by boat—and vice versa. He just might have done it.”
“Ryan?”
“He didn’t appear to be a good paddler, but he could have faked his incompetence. I talked to Nathan like you suggested. He was working too hard to keep track of who was around most of the time. And his girlfriend was concentrating on him. She said she was worried that Nathan was way over his skill level.
“It does, by the way, look like Judy was the target—or possibly Sally, although she wasn’t quite as close to where the bullets hit. Ted or Tricia could have done it. Tricia admits to being there, and Ted’s story of wandering in a deserted cemetery is difficult to believe. But possibly true. And I sure don’t know why either of them would want to kill Judy.”
“Or maybe just scare her,” Susan suggested. “Remember she didn’t get hit.”
“Our mayor’s a nice man, but he’s had a slight ego problem since his wife of thirty years announced that she was sorry, but she’d discovered she was a lesbian, and took off to the Southwest with a very young female lover. I sure wouldn’t want to be the one to tell him that his gunshot wound was a warning to someone else!”
Both women were giggling as they pulled the sheriff’s car around to the back of the town hall.
They entered through the kitchen door and were immediately wrapped in the fragrance of fresh berries, sugar, and warm dough. Four people stood around a large table in the center of the room. Four round waffle presses lay before each person, and as Susan watched, dozens of waffles were produced and, still steaming, passed through an open hatch to the main meeting room, where they would be doused with fruit and cream and eaten by islanders who came every year for this unusual treat.
A Star-Spangled Murder Page 19
