“I’ll bring you the notes I’ve taken when Giselle calls.” Jean spoke up. “There may be something else there you can make sense of. She was a former piano student of mine. That’s why she calls me. I hadn’t seen her in years until Lena died” Jean explained.
“She calls me too,” Meg added. “What about tapping our phones?”
Crawford and Tom agreed they could probably accomplish that by having a service repair van come to their houses.
“Would you like to serve on our committee for vetting the historic and rare books for the library, Tom? We could certainly use your help.”
“No, thank you, Meg. I think I have enough on my plate right now.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” Crawford said. “The ladies could use your history expertise in a unique meeting room in the library, closed to outside eyes and ears.”
“Oh yes, excellent. In that case, I’m at your service.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I’m also happy to have you confirm you’re one of the good guys and not in cahoots with that congregation. I hate to admit this, but I already suspected you might’ve tapped my phone.” She was embarrassed that she had suspected Tom. Meg looked to Detective Crawford. “What about Lena’s closet? Do we know what color the scarf was? Is it in police evidence?”
“Oh, yes. What we know from the injuries on Lena’s neck is there was a ligature involved, probably a soft fabric, like silk. It’s most probably woven in black, white and gray. We don’t have it, but we have threads. The scarf was removed from the scene, probably by the murderer. There are also minute traces of green and red, but the overall colors on the scarf would appear as black and white according to the textiles expert.”
Meg went pale, thinking of the photos she had looked at earlier that morning.
“Mrs. Miller,” Crawford leaned toward her. “Your face has gone ashen. Can I get you some water or a soda?”
“I have something I need to show you.” The hair on the back of Meg’s arms raised. She reached into her large leather bag and pulled out her laptop. After Crawford entered the WiFi password, Meg opened her social media page, searching for the photos. Finding the shot of Brian and Lena in front of the house, she turned the screen toward Tom and Crawford.
The detective moved toward the screen, putting on her reading glasses. “That could be the scarf. The colors are certainly consistent.”
“There’s more,” Meg said. She found the picture of Geneva with a scarf around her neck and turned the screen back toward them. “I think this might be the same scarf.”
“Oh, the plot thickens. That’s Giselle?” Crawford asked.
“No, that’s Geneva.”
“How do you know? There are no captions here. Could it be Giselle? Look at these photos. Seems to me they both like changing their hair color and style.”
Meg turned it back toward her. “You’re right, it could be either of them. I just didn’t see any photos of the sisters on each other’s page.”
“How do you know?” Tom asked.
“Right again. I don’t know. I’m making assumptions because I don’t want it to be Giselle.” Meg shook her head.
Crawford rubbed Meg’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, Meg. We all do that. It’s a hazard of the profession. Luckily we always have someone else to check us. If you two have a minute, let me confer with the chief about the phone tapping and the closet deal.” Crawford stepped out of her office, then summoned them with the crook of her finger. “They’re doing photos over by the tree with new donations. Why don’t you go over and get in the shots?”
Meg followed Jean to the Christmas tree, but she was mentally composing all the questions she had for Tom.
TWENTY-SIX
AT THE POLICE station, there were papers and waivers to sign about getting their phones tapped, but neither Jean nor Meg thought twice about it, wanting the professionals to hear the calls from Giselle. Once the paperwork was finished they discussed with Crawford how they would approach Brian about the contents of Lena’s closet.
“Oh, there’s something else I need to ask Tom about,” Meg said.
“Go ahead and use my office. No one will bother you two there. I’ve got to run down some information,” Crawford said. “Just keep me in the loop, please.”
“We will. No problem there.”
“And let me be the first to invite you to the Christmas party. All the gift donations will be given out at the annual Blue Santa event at the community center. There will be a midway-type atmosphere for all the kids to play games and enjoy cotton candy, candy apples, and hot dogs. The theme this year is a Christmas Fair. The Police Officers’ Auxiliary has taken donations to fund the event. We even have a forensic medium coming to play a Gypsy reading palms, so mark your calendars. The chief wanted me to make sure you got a personal invite.”
“That sounds like fun,” Jean said. “I’ll be there for sure.”
Meg assured the detective she would be there also, and then she and Tom stepped back into Crawford’s office while Jean visited with the photographer and gave her the spellings of their names for the paper.
“Tom, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something. The night of the homes tour, before I went upstairs, the frigid chill in the front hall made me go back to the thermostat. I intended to turn up the heat, but I found the back door standing open. Well, that’s neither here or there. I found a piece of jewelry I’d lost earlier in the year.”
“A piece of jewelry?” His brows drew together. “Why are you mentioning this to me now?”
“Well, later the next day, I wore the locket to the Dickens Feast. Jill Ann commented on it, saying she had seen one just like it on your desk at the foundation.”
Tom’s face fell; his head dropped. “That was your locket?” He breathed the words in a sigh of relief.
“I believe it was. I mean the one I picked up definitely was. I’m not sure about the one on your desk; Jill Ann seemed to think it was. Now I have to admit something that’s a little embarrassing. I happened to hear you talking with Hal about a locket. You see, the other night, Dorie dropped me off at Darrow.” Meg swallowed and wiped sweat from her upper lip. “I just wanted to run in and look at the bedroom again. I hadn’t been in the house since that day, but I recalled the bed was rumpled and I wanted to see it again. Well, I hadn’t even turned the lights on or made my way up the stairs when you and Hal arrived. Though I didn’t know it was you until later. When I saw a car pull up, I hid in the dressing room closet in the master bedroom and … well, I eavesdropped on you two talking. You spoke of the locket.”
Tom sat with his elbow on Crawford’s desk, his finger on his left cheek, listening. He squinted when Meg looked to him for a reaction.
“Okay, this is making a little sense,” Tom said. “I wondered why the back door was unlocked when Hal and I arrived. I got the locket from him, in the spring sometime after the April tours. Hal said he found it in the kitchen at Darrow House.”
“That would make sense,” Meg nodded. “I was the kitchen docent for the spring tours there.”
“What does your locket look like?”
“It’s gold and maybe a little silver with raised designs and inlaid garnets. There could be other stones. I need to clean it. I’ve never seen another one like it. My father’s photo is inside and there’s an inscription on the back.”
“That’s it, the same. About two months after Hal gave me the locket, he said he found the owner and he asked for it back. I had a weird feeling about it, so I didn’t react immediately. I kept the locket on my desk. Jill Ann did comment on it a couple of times. She admired it and thought whoever lost it would want it back, especially because there was the photo inside. She encouraged me to lock it up because she thought it was rare and expensive.”
“I don’t know the value or expense. It has value to me because it’s sentimental, especially my father’s photo.”
“Hal came back to me a second time, insisting the locket belonged to Lena. Tha
t really piqued my interest, because at the time, they were rumored to be having an affair. I seriously doubted the locket belonged to her.”
“Wonder why he thought it was hers?”
“Oh, he knew it wasn’t hers. Jill Ann told me later that Lena had admired the locket. She’d seen it on my desk and asked about it. I suspect she went back to Hal and asked him to figure out a way to get it from me. She’d already revealed to Jill Ann that it didn’t belong to her.
“Shortly after Lena talked with Jill Ann, the locket disappeared. We suspected Lena had taken it. However, just this past week, Hal came to my office in a huff wanting to know where the locket was. We couldn’t get him to leave, and I was suspicious about why it was so important, so I told him I’d put the locket in my pocket to show the volunteers at the Dickens home tours. He insisted we go to Darrow and look for it.”
“Why did he think it was there?” Meg looked over her glasses at Tom.
“This is making more sense now that I’m saying it to you out loud. I think he was so insistent because he knew it was at Darrow. What he didn’t know was that you had already picked it up.”
Meg sighed and leaned back in the chair. “So when Jill Ann saw the locket on me at the Dickens Feast, she’d assumed Lena took it from your desk?”
“Probably so, and I also assumed Lena had possession of the locket, but maybe it was Hal. If it was him—and I can’t think of any other reason he would’ve been so insistent about searching for it—then he was at Darrow the day of Lena’s murder.”
“Does Hal have a key to Darrow?” Meg asked.
“No, he didn’t, but Lena did.”
“What are you thinking, Tom?”
“To tell you the truth, with what I’ve learned today, I don’t know what to think. It seems Hal might’ve been at Darrow that day.”
Meg could see the wheels turning in Tom’s head. The details of her locket and the scarf were pieces yet to be added to the puzzle. Like him, she was sure they fit somehow.
“Let me ask you another question, Tom. I know this will sound silly, and it may be of no importance, but do you know if Hal wears cologne?”
Tom’s smile was gradual. “As a matter of fact, I do know the answer to that, and it’s a little obnoxious. Hal brags like a teenager in a locker room about his conquests. He’s very proud of himself. He often tells other men who wear after-shave and cologne that they should give it up and they would have more luck with the ladies.”
Meg’s eyes widened and she turned her head to improve her hearing for the rest of the story. “Do tell. Don’t worry about damaging my impression of Hal.”
“Well, according to Hal, males secrete a natural pheromone that’s sexually attractive to females. He thinks any chemical fragrance applied to the male’s body negates the pheromone. Sadly, he includes deodorant and scented soap in those fragrances. I have personal experience with his body odor after driving him to Darrow House the other night.” Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s more than you wanted to know about Hal’s hygiene, but that’s how I know he doesn’t wear cologne.”
Meg closed her eyes in thought. “Thank you for oversharing, Tom. That’s more than I can stomach about someone I didn’t like in the first place.”
“Why do you ask, Meg?”
“I’m not sure. I could swear there was a fragrance in Darrow that afternoon. It was pleasant, something familiar to me.”
“There were floral arrangements delivered that day. Many of them had evergreen, pine, and cinnamon sticks in them. Could that have been it?”
“I considered that, but, it was more like a man’s cologne. The closest I can come to it is Aramis.”
“That’s interesting, I’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded, and Meg thought he seemed to be thinking of something he wanted to say, so she stayed seated.
“Meg, I have to admit, you’ve made me think this afternoon. You’ve offered fresh details that are helping us piece this together. I know you’re trustworthy, and if you vouch for Jean, I know she must be also.” Tom stood and held his hand out to Meg. She took it, and he held hers between both of his. “I didn’t think we could work with civilians, but I do believe this will be a productive team.
“Me too, Tom. Me too.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Meg and Jean were at Brian’s door with a lasagna casserole and an envelope with brochures and information about the resale shop.
Brian listened patiently while Jean made coffee and Meg unwrapped homemade cookies.
“That’s all very interesting, ladies, but what does this have to do with me? I suppose I can write you a check or something.”
“No, Brian, that’s not necessary. You’re sitting on a goldmine here. We’re not interested in your money, but we thought you might like some help with disposing of Lena’s things,” Meg said. She smiled at him while she put a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. “Women without funds for professional clothing for new jobs would benefit and it’s a tax write-off for you.”
“Oh, I see. You’re probably right. I should think of what I’m going to do with her clothing. Lord knows she’s got closets full of things, some of it never worn. I didn’t really want to think about going through it.”
“I know what you mean. I was the same way about Paul’s things. There were his tools, his fishing poles, and the clothing. Every little thing was a painful memory. That’s why we thought this might be just the thing that could take your mind off it. I also thought you might want to see if your girls wanted anything. My nephew was more than happy to take his uncle’s fishing equipment.” Meg watched Brian’s face, hoping he would suggest they should talk with the twins about it.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “It seems a little soon. Can’t we wait a while?”
“Surely you can, Brian. It’s up to you. We just have a little time before the holidays and thought it might be helpful. After Christmas, Jean’s going to be tied up, and I don’t know when I could get to it, but maybe next summer we’d be available again.”
Meg sighed, taking a bite of one of the cookies she had taken out of her freezer. Trips to Brian’s were helping her purge the freezer compartment of her refrigerator. “Take your time, Brian. I know how the grieving process works. You have to go through it at your own pace. No one can hurry you along.”
Brian’s eyes shifted from Jean to Meg as he took long sips from his coffee mug.
“I’ve written the directions for reheating the casserole on this paper I’m leaving by the phone here,” Jean said. “Don’t think you have to eat it all in one sitting. Save it for when the girls visit, or a night when you have the poker group over.”
“You ladies have been mighty nice to keep checking on me. I’m considering your offer, but I just don’t know. It’s selfish on my part to want to hold on to anything, but the girls have been a little stand-offish. I guess they don’t know what to say to me. They never liked Lena, and they don’t call or come to visit. After their mother died, they were gone from me. They just wanted to tell me who I could marry.”
“We can handle communication with them, if you’d like. Jean and I both have daughters. We know how girls can be.”
“That might be helpful,” Brian agreed.
Meg and Jean left him sitting at his kitchen table with a frozen casserole and a plate of cookies. He agreed to give their offer some thought and get in touch with them.
As Meg pulled out of Brian’s driveway, Jean said, “What do you think he’ll do?”
“He’ll call us sooner or later. Once he thinks about what a chore it’ll be, he’ll ask for help. You ever known a man who wanted to clean out a closet?”
“You’re right. It’s a no-brainer. I should’ve thought of that.”
Meg filled Jean in on her discussion with Tom about her locket. Jean thought Hal and Lena probably had a meeting at Darrow House the day she was killed. “I have no doubt about that. The question is who else was in that house and why.”
/> “I’m not clear on why Lena and Hal were there either,” Meg said.
“Are you kidding me? They were partaking in a little afternoon delight. No question there,” Jean hooted.
“At the Darrow House?”
“Meg, please. It was the perfect place for Lena. She had a key—they could lock themselves in and be perfectly comfortable. I bet they used a different bed every time. It wasn’t a sleazy motel, and they had a reason for their vehicles to be parked there.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake. I can’t even think about it. Hal and his body odor and that cute little Lena.” Meg turned her nose up, thinking about Hal.
Jean huffed. “What makes you think Hal has BO?”
“I’m sure he did. Tom says he has a theory about pheromones and his appeal to the opposite sex. Of course, I’ve never stood close enough to him to know personally.”
“For the love of Pete. You and Tom were discussing Hal’s body odor?” Jean’s head froze in position as she continued to stare at Meg.
“It’s a long story, but it has to do with the fragrance at Darrow.”
Meg pulled up in front of Jean’s house, as they talked about how much longer the investigation might last. “I’m thinking it’ll be well after Christmas, don’t you?” Jean said.
“It could be, unless evidence turns up before then. I can’t imagine what it’d be—the scarf, maybe?”
“The kids will be coming a few days before Christmas. That’s another couple of weeks away. This has really made this month fly by. I still have a little shopping to do. Oh, and don’t forget the Blue Santa party. That sounds like it’d be fun.”
“It does, doesn’t it? At first I thought it might just be another obligation, but I think you’re right. I might even enjoy it. I’ll see you later, Jean.”
Before Meg pulled away from the curb, her phone pinged with a text message. It was from Dorie, Call me. When I get home. Meg pulled away from Jean’s house headed toward her neighborhood. It was beginning to get dark, people were pushing their trash cans to the curb for the next day’s collection.
A Dickens of a Crime Page 16
