Macramé Murder

by Mollie Cox Bryan

  “Oh, that’s right,” Mathilde said.

  “I’ll come with,” Jane said. “I need to try London, again. I couldn’t get through the first time.”

  After they left the craft-in, Jane and Cora walked together down the long Mermaid Hall.

  “She’s stressed,” Jane said.

  “Of course, and the others are, too,” Cora said. “Possibly Hank was right. Maybe it would have been best to call it off and have everybody go home.”

  “But maybe Mathilde is right, too,” Jane said.

  Cora’s bag slid down her arm and she heaved it back to her shoulder. “There’s no perfect way to deal with something like this. But I’d like to think if it happened at one of our retreats we’d pull together, not crumble like Hank and Mathilde.”

  “Me too. I had the feeling it had been coming awhile. Didn’t you?” Jane said.

  “It seemed like it,” Cora said. “Why don’t you check in with London and meet us at Adrian’s room. He says he has news.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you there,” Jane said.

  The elevator doors opened and there stood Tom, Zooey’s assistant, appearing cool as a cucumber with sunglasses on his face. Cora smiled. He ignored her and walked off the elevator.

  Chapter 37

  Adrian’s fingers glided over the keyboard as he brought several documents up on his laptop screen.

  “You see,” he said. “Adair Development is completely on the up-and-up as far as I can tell. In fact, I was able to hack in to their files about this project, and it’s not been made public yet, but they are giving up their plans to build here.”

  Cora was impressed. “My boyfriend, the hacker.”

  His eyes met hers again and this time bore no shame, more like lust. Pure, animalistic lust. Tingles traveled through Cora’s center. My goodness.

  He reached for her.

  “Wait,” she said. “We have more work to do here and you and I have to chat about another secret you’ve been keeping.”

  “Secret?” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, looking up at her. He cleared his throat.

  “Your inheritance,” she said. “You didn’t tell me about it.”

  He laughed. “Oh, that.” He dropped his hands and stood from his chair, perched in front of the computer.

  “It would be nice if you’d communicate with me,” she said. “I don’t want to have to pry everything out of you.”

  He pulled her close to him, wrapped his arms around her, and he felt muscled beneath those thin clothes. T-shirt. Shorts. And long, lean muscles.

  Oh, she wanted to sink into him.

  “It’s nothing,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Well, not nothing, but I don’t believe it. I don’t believe for one minute she’d leave me a thing. It’s an old will. I’m sure a new one will turn up. She married Josh. I’m sure he’s going to inherit her money,” he said.

  Cora was startled. If it wasn’t about money, why else would someone be trying to frame Adrian for this murder?

  “Why else would . . .” The sentence remained incomplete because Adrian’s lips were in the way. A kiss. And another and her thoughts turned to mush.

  “I’m not worried about it now,” he said. “What I’m worried about is this dress.”

  “What? What about my dress?” she said.

  “It’s vintage and I have no idea how to unhook the buttons. I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, hitching an eyebrow. “From the minute you walked in here.”

  “Adrian, I—” Now? Here? At this time? When Cashel was down from being drugged and Adrian was suspected for murder? Now?

  “So,” he said, and pulled himself away from her. “I’m thinking I’m going to watch you take that dress off.”

  Heat rushed through Cora. Could she? Would she?

  A pounding at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Cora! Adrian!”

  It was Jane. Cora had quite forgotten about Jane.

  She cleared her throat. “Coming,” she said.

  Adrian walked out on the balcony. “Give me a minute, would you?”

  She nodded and opened the door.

  Jane frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Cora asked.

  “It’s Cashel,” Jane said. “He’s back and he wants to see us all in his room. I saw him in the hallway. He looked terrible.”

  “They let him out of the hospital still sick?” Cora asked.

  Jane nodded. “Evidently, there was nothing they could do about it. He insisted.”

  “What’s going on?” Adrian came up behind Cora.

  “Cashel wants to see us all in his room,” Cora said.

  “Okay, let me collect my laptop. I’ve been wondering when he’d be back. We’ve got some talking to do,” he said, and went about gathering his things.

  “I’m not sure I need to be there,” Jane said. “I still haven’t been able to contact London. The Wi-Fi is terrible. Lulu’s cell phone keeps going straight into voice mail. I even called Zora. She’s fine and she says Luna is doing great, by the way.”

  Cora eyed Jane. She had made the right decision in getting her daughter off this island. She knew it made Jane nervous sending her daughter off with Lulu, a woman she only knew through her sister. But both Jane and Cora thought highly of Zora.

  “It’ll be okay,” Cora said to Jane, hoping she was right. It was unlike Cashel to call a whole group together. He must have his reasons.

  Pangs of worry shot through her. Poor Cashel. So sick. And he had been trying to help. Even though he often annoyed and angered her, she considered him her friend and would not want anything bad to happen to him. Besides, he was Ruby’s son and Adrian’s lawyer—he needed to stay healthy.

  Chapter 38

  Jane and Cora made their way to Cashel’s room, where the others were already waiting, seated on the balcony. The sky was darkening and waves pounded on the sand. The rushing noises of the waves would have calmed Cora, but she was so keyed up from all the worry and excitement.

  “So, what happened to you?” Jane said, eyeing Cashel.

  Cashel was sitting in a lounger, legs propped up, sunglasses on. His coloring was still off.

  “I was drugged,” he said. “We’ve gotten the tox reports.”

  A hush fell over the group.

  Adrian’s arm slipped around Cora’s shoulder. Her head went into her hands and she glanced at Cashel. “What do you think this means?”

  “Someone wanted me out of the way for several hours,” he said.

  “Gave him a tiny bit of the date rape drug, Rohypnol. Wasn’t like they wanted to kill him,” Ruby said.

  Cora thought about the way he had acted as if he’d been drunk and she supposed it made sense.

  “So they wanted you down long enough for . . . for what?” Adrian said.

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

  “The only thing that’s happened is, well, Zooey was killed,” Jane said.

  “Maybe someone wanted to you to look suspicious, you know, a lawyer on drugs,” Cora said.

  “But why? What would be the point?” Jane said. “He has no connection to any of these people, except that he’s Adrian’s lawyer.”

  They all glanced Adrian’s way.

  “Well,” Adrian said, then cleared his throat. “I’ve an alibi for that. We tried to call you, but couldn’t reach you. They questioned me and Cora and understand I had nothing to do with that one, at least.”

  “Good,” Cashel said, nodding. “Because here’s the thing. Those two murders are most assuredly connected.”

  “How do you know?” Cora said. She had considered this. But the women were killed in different ways. She was unable to find a solid connection between them—except for Adrian, who thought he recognized Zooey as Marcy’s old, long-time research assistant, Susan.

  “Zooey was Susan Twiliger,” Cashel said to Adrian. “Ring a bell?”

  “Yes, I thought so. Her hair is different and something else. I could not qu
ite put my finger on it,” he said.

  “Nose job,” Cashel replied.

  “My, my, you have been digging around,” Jane said.

  “So Susan used to work for Marcy,” Cashel went on. “First it’s too coincidental that they were both murdered within days of one another. I wasn’t aware of her murder until thirty minutes ago, though. But her name did come up in the research anyway.”

  A vision of Zooey’s beautiful face came to her mind. Cora didn’t care for her—it turned out she was not your ordinary fake, but a REAL fake. She had a carefully constructed new self that had become a famous crafter.

  “Susan and Marcy were cousins,” Cashel said. “Marcy’s family was and is quite wealthy. Marcy’s family lived on the other side of the island. Marcy’s mother was a sister of Susan’s mother.”

  “What part of the island does Susan’s family live on?” Cora asked.

  “They live in what people call the swamp area, though it’s not a true swamp. It’s just a marsh,” Cashel said.

  Cora’s spine tingled. The beautiful wind chimes flashed in her mind.

  “Josh’s family is from over there, too,” she said.

  Cashel nodded. “Josh is Zooey’s cousin.”

  “So Marcy and Josh were related?” Cora said.

  “By marriage. Not blood related at all,” Cashel responded.

  “So, what does this have to do with anything? My case? Why you were drugged?” Adrian said with a note of impatience.

  “I researched Adair Development,” Cashel went on. “They are planning to back off the resort plans.”

  “Yeah, I found that out today,” Adrian said.

  “Did you happen to notice who is on the board for them?” Cashel asked.

  “No,” Adrian said.

  “Mathilde Mayhue,” Cashel said.

  Once again, the group was silenced.

  “So Mathilde Mayhue is on the board for Adair, and she owns the Drunken Mermaid?” Cora said.

  “Odd, isn’t it?” Ruby said. “How many professional crafters do you know who could afford all that?”

  “Not the majority, but she is outrageously successful,” Cora said. “She created this retreat years ago and helped to make this island what it is—quite a success.”

  “Or a travesty,” Adrian said. “Depending on how you view it. Marcy hated the retreat, the resort. She said the island was better off without it. Of course, her family didn’t need to worry about making a living, like some of the other residents who were gung-ho about the resort. It meant jobs for them.”

  Cora remembered the conversation she’d overheard between Hank and Mathilde about the tiara. Mathilde did not like Marcy. That was obvious. But Hank seemed to have a high opinion of her.

  “What else did you find out?” Cora asked.

  He hesitated, letting out air. “That’s pretty much it. But it was enough to get me out of the way, obviously.”

  “Just finding out about Adair Development and that Mathilde is a board member? Ridiculous!” Jane said.

  “I would agree,” Cashel said. “Which leads me to believe there’s more going on here than meets the eye. But my focus is not on solving all the local issues—and there seem to be a great deal. My focus is on absolving Adrian from a ludicrous murder rap.”

  “Do you have enough information to do that?” Jane said.

  “I don’t know. But that’s not quite the question. They have to prove him guilty. If they can’t prove it, they can’t hold him here. So, Adrian, if there’s anything else you could think of that you need to tell me, now is the time,” Cashel said.

  Adrian shook his head.

  “Don’t you think that if we find the killer it will help Adrian?” Cora said.

  “Of course it would,” Cashel said. “But none of us are cops. And some of us have work to do here. Like you. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, knitting something?”

  Ruby reached over and smacked his head, playfully.

  Cora ignored him, as she often did.

  “Cashel, when you were in the Drunken Mermaid, did you see anybody you knew?” she asked.

  He thought a moment. “I recognized a couple of people. Mathilde’s assistant . . . What’s his name?”

  “Hank,” said Jane. She looked at Cora, for they had noted him there as well, not more than a few hours ago.

  “And Josh’s mother? She was there with a group of women,” Cashel said.

  “Rue the psychic?” Cora asked.

  “Yeah, psychic,” Cashel said, and laughed.

  But Cora’s stomach was knotting. Were Rue and Hank acquainted? It seemed an odd connection. But then again, Cora didn’t know much about Hank, other than he was Mathilde’s assistant, they had been quarreling for days, and finally, he quit or was fired.

  “That Hank character? I don’t like him,” Ruby said. “He’s a bit too pretty for me. I never liked a pretty man. Besides, his nose was always in Mathilde’s ass. No life of his own, I suppose.”

  “You know he no longer works for her, right?” Jane said.

  “I think we should talk with Hank,” Cora said.

  “Cora—” Cashel said.

  “Can’t hurt to talk with him,” Jane replied.

  “I think we need to talk with Rue, too. I’ve been wanting to interview her for my blog,” Cora said.

  Cashel shook his head. “Can’t you control your woman?” he said to Adrian.

  “I don’t think I’d even want to try,” Adrian said, grinning.

  “Seriously,” Ruby said with sternness. “If these folks are drugging Cashel for knowing too much, which is nothing at all, imagine what they might do to one of you for not minding your own business. We need to untangle Adrian from this mess and get on home. Let’s not complicate things, shall we?”

  Cora grimaced. Ruby was right—but of course, that wasn’t going to stop her. She’d just have to be extra careful.

  Chapter 39

  Rue’s e-mail address was not hard to find. Cora sent the note off with a brief explanation. Cora was no trained journalist, but one thing she’d found about people was that they did like to talk about themselves. She’d met few crafters who didn’t relish the opportunity to talk about themselves and their craft.

  “I’ll talk with Hank,” Jane said. “I saw him heading into the bar earlier; maybe he’s still there.”

  Cora’s eyebrow lifted. “He’s a handsome guy.”

  “That he is,” Jane said. “But, of course, it doesn’t matter. He’s gay, right? And I’m a woman on a mission.”

  “Be careful,” Cora said. Her phone beeped, signaling a new e-mail. “It’s Rue.”

  “Already?” Jane asked.

  Cora read the e-mail aloud:

  “Good to hear from you. As luck would have it, my husband is at the resort now and he will bring you to our home for the interview. Does now suit? He’s standing next to the mermaid fountain. Tall redhead. You simply can’t miss him.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you should go alone,” Jane said. “Hank will have to wait.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. We don’t know when you’ll get a chance at Hank again,” Cora said.

  “No way,” Jane said.

  Cora recognized the tone of her voice and decided not to argue with her.

  “Whatever,” Cora said. “If you want to come, it’s fine with me.”

  I’ll be right there, Cora texted back. I’m bringing Jane Starr with me. I hope that’s okay.

  Cora and Jane grabbed their things and headed out to the lobby where the mermaid fountain was.

  They made their way to the tall, redhead of a man standing there.

  “Mr. Dupres,” Cora said.

  He nodded and extended his hand. As they shook hands he said, “No. Call me John. Nice to meet you, Cora.”

  “Jane,” she said, and extended her hand.

  “I don’t mean to rush,” Cora said. “But we need to skedaddle before someone sees us. We’re supposed to be staying at the resort.”

&nb
sp; “Why’s that?” he said as he led them out the door to the car.

  “Because of the murders,” Cora said. “For our safety.”

  His head tilted. “You’ll be safe with me,” he said. “No worries.”

  “I imagine,” Cora said, and slipped into the car. Jane took the backseat.

  They rode a few minutes in the quiet.

  “I was about to leave,” he said. “Then Rue texted me and said you wanted to interview her.”

  “Yes, I write a craft blog and I’ve been by your place a couple of times now and saw the gorgeous chimes. I wanted to talk with her about them,” Cora said.

  “The spirit chimes are special,” he said, beaming. “I’m proud of her. I like the fact that she’s taken folk art and made it into, well, what I’d call real art.”

  Cora warmed. This man was proud of his wife. How heartwarming.

  “Have you been married long?” Cora said.

  “No,” he replied. “Just about a year.”

  “Oh,” Cora said. So this man was not Josh’s father. That’s why he wasn’t Mr. Dupres.

  “She was married once before,” he said. “Had a couple of kids with that man and then he disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” Jane said.

  “Yeah, took off. Nobody knows what happened to him,” he said. “Finally got him declared dead after, I don’t know, years of him being gone, so she could move on.”

  “That’s sad,” Cora said. She was aware that there were more missing people in the world than one could imagine. Sometimes they’d been killed and simply never found. Sometimes, something snapped in them and they were confused and wandering. Other times, it was deliberate. A popular scenario was running away to be with a new love. Cora wondered which scenario could have been Rue’s husband’s.

  “Rue’s excited about this,” he said as he pulled up the driveway.

  The house sat in a long row of other houses. Some were sort of ramshackle. But others were painted in bright colors. Rue’s place was painted sea-blue and the trim was in cobalt-blue. The chimes hung on the front porch and in the bay window facing the driveway.

  Spirit chimes. Cora loved the idea of them. Loved the name. Some crafts had such interesting histories. The chimes tinkled in the slight breeze and the sunlight caught in the sea glass and beads. She viewed them closer as she followed John onto the porch. Small feathers, tiny pieces of driftwood were also on some of the chimes. She hadn’t seen it before. And . . . were those . . . bones? Bones of small animals? Birds? What?