Thanksgiving in Paradise

by Kathi Daley

  Roy swallowed the last of his coffee. “I guess all you can really do is approach the task systematically and see where you end up.”

  After Roy left, Kyle and I decided to take a walk. While coming up with a strategy to rebuild the town council was important, I didn’t want to lose sight of the need to find the person who killed our friends. We were both feeling better physically, so it was time to stop being cautious and jump in with both feet.

  “In my mind, in terms of the bombing, now that we suspect the bomb was planted in Harriet’s purse, we really need to look at the possibility that Harriet was the intended victim,” Kyle suggested.

  I felt my stomach begin to churn. “The idea that Harriet was the target makes the whole thing seem all that much more personal.”

  Kyle tightened his hand over mine. “It does feel personal, which I suppose is due to the fact that it is personal. I really can’t imagine who would want not only to kill a sweet woman like Harriet but to kill her in such a violent manner.” Kyle turned and looked at me. “I’ve known Harriet since I moved to Serenity, but I can’t claim to have really known her. Who was she really? Where was she from? What did she do in her spare time? If she had enemies who might those enemies have been?”

  I frowned. “All good questions. I’ve known Harriet my whole life, but I can’t say that I know where she was born or anything about her family. I don’t even know for certain when she moved to Serenity. I do know that she has been a fixture at the town hall ever since I can remember. She was strong-willed and opinionated, and she wasn’t afraid to be vocal about her opinions. Everyone who knew her knew she was a huge gossip. She had a lot of friends in the community, but I remember her being best friends with Helen since I was a kid. Even though she could seem brash at times, I think she really cared about people. In terms of what she did with her off time, I know she did a lot of volunteer work, and she spent a significant amount of time hanging out with both Helen and Frannie. As far as I know, she never married nor had children. If she had parents, siblings, or other relatives still living, I don’t remember ever meeting them. Roy was right when he said that if there were anyone who knew the real Harriet Kramer, it would be Helen. I just hope I can find a way to bring up the subject without causing the poor woman more pain and suffering than she has already been forced to endure.”

  “Maybe you should start with Frannie,” Kyle suggested. “She may not have been as close to Harriet as Helen, but the two women were good friends. They have both lived in Serenity for a very long time, and they were close to the same age. She may know more than you think.”

  I laid my head on Kyle’s shoulder. “Yeah, that is actually a good idea. I will start with Frannie. I’m sure Frannie is grieving Harriet’s death the same as Helen, but her husband didn’t almost die in the same explosion, so I would assume she is handling the whole thing better. She might even be able to tell us what we need to know without bothering Helen. I need to talk with her about Thanksgiving anyway.”

  “Thanksgiving?” Kyle asked.

  “Rosalie ran into her in town. Frannie usually comes out to the resort for Thanksgiving dinner and asked Rosalie about it. Rosalie told her that we were hosting this year but that she was sure she was invited. I just want to confirm this fact with Frannie personally.”

  “So far, I have only mentioned it to my mom, who plans to attend with Annabeth and Kiara.” Annabeth and Kiara Boswell were sisters who Kyle decided to help out after their father was sent to prison. Kyle paid for Kiara to attend college, and Annabeth, who was currently sixteen, had been living with Kyle’s mother and attending the local high school. “I guess we should make a list, so we are sure to speak to everyone we need to. I’d hate for anyone to be left out.”

  “That’s a good idea. We can do it later. The library is open until two on Saturday so we should go now if we don’t want to miss her.”

  Chapter 10

  Frannie Edison worked as the librarian for the Serenity Library, which was one of my favorite places in town. Originally built as a bordello at the turn of the century, it had been converted into a library more than sixty years earlier, a few years after the town was incorporated. The downstairs, which at one time had served as a common room for entertaining, now held a large wooden counter that was used as a reference desk but had originally served as the bar on which girls had danced to entertain the men. Behind the counter were rows of bookshelves that held reference materials that could only be accessed with librarian supervision. There was an open area in front of the counter where round tables surrounded by chairs were provided for patrons. The upstairs was divided into smaller rooms, converted from bedrooms into bookrooms, each with its own subject matter. One room was decorated in nursery rhymes and held children’s books, another housed fiction, yet another was filled with reference and business books, and another held a selection of books on self-help and religion. Each bookroom contained long sofas or cozy chairs for visitors who wished to preview a book before checking it out and taking it home.

  “Good afternoon, Frannie,” I greeted after Kyle and I entered the building.

  “Tj; Kyle. How nice to see you.”

  “Before I forget I wanted to let you know that Kyle and I are hosting Thanksgiving at his place this year, and as always, both you and Hazel are invited.” I referred to Hazel Whipple, the town’s postmistress, who didn’t drive and usually came to Thanksgiving dinner with Frannie.

  Frannie smiled. “Thank you, I’d like that very much, and I know that Hazel will as well. And I’m happy to see that you both seem to have recovered from the explosion.”

  My smile faded a bit. “Yes, Kyle and I are doing much better. We are sad about Harriet and Lloyd.”

  I couldn’t help but notice that Frannie’s eyes teared up just a bit. “I’m still having such a hard time with the idea that I’ll never see Harriet again. It seems like a horrible dream that I keep hoping I’ll awaken from.” Fannie used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. “Have you heard if Roy has figured out who did this terrible thing?”

  “We spoke to him this morning, and he still wasn’t sure,” I answered. “But he did say that it looks as if the bomb was hidden inside that big old purse Harriet carried everywhere she went. The bomb had been set up on a timer, and if not for the last-minute meeting, Harriet would likely have been home alone. He is looking into the possibility that she was the intended target rather than an individual member of the council or the council as a whole.”

  The color drained from Frannie’s face. “Oh my.” She slid into the chair behind her. “I hadn’t heard that the bomb was in Harriet’s purse. I guess I just assumed it had been hidden somewhere in the building.” Frannie put a hand to her mouth. She looked as if she was going to be sick.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, putting a hand on Frannie’s arm.

  “No. I don’t think that I am. If not for the emergency town meeting, the two of us would have been together. Harriet planned to come here to the library to help me hand out candy as part of the town’s Safe Halloween campaign.”

  I felt the blood drain from my own face. “So the library would have been full of kids.”

  Frannie nodded. “Kids and their parents.”

  I knew the Safe Halloween idea had come about as an alternative for parents who didn’t want to take their young children into neighborhoods where older teens occasionally created an unsafe environment. The Safe Halloween route was laid out along Main where the businesses and public agencies such as the library and post office agreed to stay open and hand out candy. If Harriet and the bomb in her purse had been inside the busy library when it went off, I hated to think of the human causalities that could have occurred.

  Kyle narrowed his gaze. “You don’t think that someone intended to blow up a bunch of kids, do you?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” I looked at Frannie. “Do you know who might have known that Harriet planned to b
e here?”

  Frannie shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe no one. I really don’t know why Harriet would mention her plans to anyone unless they asked. On any other Tuesday night, she would most likely have been home alone. Thursday is book club, and we try to grab a meal together on Friday’s. Sometimes we go shopping or take in a movie on the weekends, but Mondays and Tuesdays are usually nights devoted to catching up on paperwork for both of us. She has her shows on Hallmark, and I have my shows on The History Channel. We normally make an easy dinner, turn on our shows, and do our paperwork.” Frannie looked at me. “I need to call Helen.”

  “Helen? Why?”

  “If Harriet was the intended victim, I might know why.”

  “You do? Why?”

  “I can’t say. At least not yet. I need to call Helen.”

  I took a step back. “Okay. Go ahead and call Helen and then we’ll talk.”

  Frannie went into her office while Kyle and I waited by the front counter. After a good ten minutes, she finally came out. “Helen is willing to hear what you have to say. She doesn’t want to leave Bookman, and wondered if we could come to her place.”

  “Sure, we can do that. Should we call Roy?”

  “Not yet. Helen has some questions before we go any further.”

  I glanced at Kyle. He nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go and talk to Helen.”

  Frannie decided to follow us in her own car, leaving Kyle and I free to talk on the ride to Bookman’s mansion. “What do you think that was all about?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but it seems obvious that Frannie, and probably Helen, know something about Harriet. Something that wouldn’t come into play if the bomb was planted to blow up the town hall or the town council members, but does come into play if Harriet herself was the intended victim.”

  “Helen was Harriet’s best friend. She isn’t going to want to reveal her secrets if she doesn’t have to.”

  “Which is probably why she wanted to ask questions before we bring Roy into this,” Kyle pointed out. “It is likely that neither Frannie nor Helen considered the fact that Harriet might have been the intended victim all along. I’m sure they will need time to process this new information.”

  Kyle was right. Helen seemed to have her shield up from the moment we walked in the front door. I knew that it was important at this point to tread lightly. I greeted the woman as I took off my coat, making sure to ask about Bookman. Helen assured us that Bookman was doing better and would be joining us for our discussion. That was fine with me. Bookman tended to have a calming effect on Helen, and if things got dicey, I was sure his steady influence would be welcome.

  “So what is this about Harriet being the intended victim?” Helen asked as soon as we’d all gathered around the dining table. I was happy to see that Bookman, while extremely pale, was able to sit with us in relative comfort.

  “Based on a conversation we had with Roy, it looks as if the bomb that killed both Harriet and Lloyd may have been placed inside Harriet’s purse at some point prior to the town council meeting,” I began. “We don’t know when it was placed in her purse if that is what actually occurred, but we do assume that Harriet didn’t know it was there. Up to this point, we haven’t been certain whether the town council was the target or Harriet was the target, but given the tight timeline between the meeting being called at five o’clock and Harriet placing her purse in the drawer at the town hall at around five forty-five, it seems reasonable that we can eliminate the town council as the intended victim.”

  “How do you know when the meeting was called and when Harriet put her purse in her drawer?” Helen asked.

  “I spoke to Jeff,” I answered. “Jeff told me that he received the text about the emergency meeting at around five o’clock just as he was closing up his shop for the day. That fits with the time that Kyle received the same text. After receiving the text, Jeff headed directly to the town hall. When he arrived, Lloyd was already there. Bookman came in shortly after, and at about five forty-five, give or take a few minutes, Harriet came into the council chambers from her office carrying that huge purse she always carries around. Jeff told me that Hank came in shortly after Harriet, and of course, Kyle and I were late and didn’t arrive until seconds before the bomb exploded at six.”

  Helen looked at Bookman.

  “My memory is still pretty fuzzy, but that seems right,” he confirmed.

  “If the bomb was in Harriet’s purse, wouldn’t she have realized it was there?” Helen asked.

  “Perhaps, but it is possible that the bomb had been slipped into her purse and she hadn’t noticed. Roy shared with me the fact that the bomb was about the size of a softball and weighed less than five pounds. An extremely powerful explosive was used, so we know this was no amateur job. Someone with munitions experience had to have built the device.”

  “It just seems that if a five-pound object was placed in Harriet’s purse, she would have noticed the minute she picked up the purse,” Helen insisted. “Maybe you are wrong about the bomb being in her purse.”

  Frannie gave Helen a look that seemed to be an attempt to encourage her to tell what she knew, but she shook her head and then turned away. I knew I needed to let Helen take the time she needed to tell us what Frannie was ready to tell.

  I looked at Helen and offered her what I hoped was a sincere look of sympathy. “We don’t know with a hundred percent certainty that the bomb was in Harriet’s purse but based on the evidence the crime scene guys turned up, it does look that way. Add in the tight timeline, and it seems likely, but I do understand what you are saying about Harriet noticing the change in weight. Maybe Harriet did know the bomb was in her purse, but maybe it was disguised as something else.”

  “Like what?” Helen asked a frown on her face.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was wrapped. Maybe someone gave her a gift with instructions to open it later. Or maybe she was given a wrapped package and asked to give it to someone else she planned to see later in the day or in the week. We can’t really know at this point, but I don’t think we should assume that it wouldn’t be possible for Helen to have agreed to transport the bomb without knowing that it was a bomb.”

  I glanced at Bookman, who was frowning but hadn’t said anything else. Helen was as white as a sheet, and Frannie looked as if she was going to pass out at any moment. “I know this is hard on both of you,” I said. “But with the timeline between Harriet calling the meeting at five and the bomb going off at six, it really does seem as if the bomb was already in Harriet’s purse before the meeting was even called. Frannie told me that Harriet would have been home at six on a normal Tuesday, but the Tuesday in question was Halloween and she planned to attend the event being held at the library. In my mind, that means that either Harriet was the intended victim or the event was the intended victim. We need to figure out which.” I couldn’t help but notice that Frannie glanced at Helen, who narrowed her gaze. I glanced at Kyle and Bookman. “I’d like to speak to Helen and Frannie alone.”

  Both men agreed and retreated to the other room. I hated to see Bookman so frail, but I was happy to see that he seemed to be on the road to recovery.

  “I know your instinct is to protect your friend,” I began once the men had exited the room, “but if Harriet was the intended victim, then knowing what was going on in her life is going to be the key to finding her killer.” I looked at Frannie. “When we spoke in the library, you indicated that if Harriet was the intended victim, you might know why. I need you to tell me what you know.”

  Frannie looked at Helen, who looked as if she was going to refuse to cooperate, but eventually, Helen began to speak. “Something was going on with Harriet that might have gotten her killed. She had a really tough time dealing with Mayor Harper’s death, which is understandable since not only had the two been friends for decades but after Judge Harper took on the
role of mayor, they worked long hours side by side to get the town back on track after Mayor Wallaby destroyed confidence in the town council and the role of mayor.”

  Helen paused. She glanced at Frannie, who continued on her behalf.

  “Initially, Helen and I tried to be understanding and supportive of Harriet’s odd mood and somewhat erratic behavior. While it was true that the entire town was in shock after the accident which killed Mayor Harper and put your dad in the hospital, we knew that Harriet was closer to him than most, and therefore it was natural that his death seemed to hit her the hardest. We hoped that time would heal her grief, but as time went by, instead of working through her grief, she seemed to channel that energy into anger.”

  “Anger?” I asked.

  “When she found out that the events leading up to Mayor Harper’s death were the result of a secret he’d kept, she became fixated on secrets as being the root of all evil,” Frannie provided.

  Helen jumped in. “That might be a grandiose statement for what was going on, but while Frannie and I were unaware of it at the time, at some point, Harriet decided to channel her natural inclination to gossip into a brand new hobby that both Frannie and I tried to talk her out of once we finally realized what was really happening.”

  I frowned as I tried to understand what the women were trying to communicate to me. “New hobby?” It was true that Harriet had always been the number two source for the latest gossip, second only to Helen. Of course, once Helen married Bookman, and she was no longer hanging out at The Antiquery all day, Harriet had pretty much moved into the number one position.

  “In the past, Harriet liked to gossip, but it was all pretty harmless,” Frannie said.

  “But then, Mayor Harper died, and Harriet’s gossiping began to take on a policing quality,” Helen added.

  My eyes grew wide, and I gasped. “Harriet was the author of Sinful Secrets.”