Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery)

by Freydont, Shelley

  He put his hand on the window frame and leaned in. “Don’t be. We’ve got a handle on it.”

  She smiled, wanting to believe him but focused on the theft of the suit from her trunk. He was leaning awfully close. Solid. A man that could protect a town. And a woman.

  “Well, good night,” she said.

  He moved away. Smiled in a disarming way that was totally at odds with the burly ex-marine body and the no-nonsense ex-marine mind. He watched as she drove away.

  Interesting. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened.

  *

  Miss Edna was just setting the table when Liv arrived.

  “Ah, there you are,” Miss Ida said. Whiskey looked up from the huge bone he was gnawing and beat his tail on the floor to let her know he saw her.

  “Something strange just happened,” she told her landladies as Ida handed her a glass of wine.

  “Strange?” asked Edna.

  “Yes. And maybe something bad.”

  “Oh dear,” Ida said. “Is there something we can do?”

  She told them about the theft and about A.K. Pierce showing up two minutes too late.

  “Did you tell him about the theft?”

  “No, but I’m not sure why I didn’t.”

  “Did you call Bill?”

  “No. I think he finally might have made it to the Messiah rehearsal and I hated to bother him.”

  “That’s what he’s here for,” Edna said. “You just call his cell and tell him to come on over after practice. We have dinner for him.”

  Bill showed up just as they were clearing the plates away.

  “Sit down, I’ll fix you a plate,” Ida said.

  “Why didn’t you call me when it happened?” he asked Liv after she explained why she had called.

  “I didn’t want to drag you away from choir practice. I looked to see if there was anyone hanging around and acting suspicious. He was long gone.”

  “I suppose you messed up any fingerprints we might have gotten from your car.”

  “Do they really take fingerprints from a burglarized car?”

  “Not usually, but this is different. There’s still a killer on the loose and it sounds like he’s too close for comfort.”

  “Oh dear,” said Ida.

  Miss Edna slid a steaming plate in front of him. “Well, the car is in the garage, and it’s too late to go chasing off after a Santa-suit thief. So eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

  Bill dug in and for a few minutes there were only sighs and “umms” coming from the sheriff.

  “I made decaf,” Ida said when he was finished.

  Everybody had coffee and little cookies that Edna called silver bells. They were shaped like little bells, covered in a white icing with three little silver dragées as the clappers. Beautiful and delicious.

  “I don’t want any of you ladies going out at night by yourselves,” Bill said. “Especially you.” Everyone looked at Liv.

  “It was only six o’clock.”

  “But it was already dark.”

  “It was dark at four o’clock.”

  Bill’s brows dipped.

  “We’ll be careful,” Edna said. “But, Bill, is anything jumping out at you over this murder?”

  “Oh yeah. Too much.”

  “Like what?” asked Ida.

  “Miss Ida, you know I can’t talk about an open case. Just be careful, please.”

  “We will,” Edna assured him. “But you don’t think the killer stole the suit out of Liv’s car?”

  “I don’t mean to scare you, but yes, I think there’s a good chance that he did.”

  Liv frowned. “Doesn’t it seem like one more instance of evidence popping up all over the place and moving from place to place?”

  “Liv,” Bill warned.

  “Please, just listen and then tell me I’m wrong so I can sleep tonight.”

  Ida nodded. “You should listen to her, Bill Gunnison. The girl has a head on her shoulders.”

  Resigned, Bill sat back. “Okay, shoot.”

  “The first Santa suit is stolen from Nancy’s back room, worn to kill Phil Cosgrove. Found in the Dumpster and worn by Hank in the Santa Parade.

  “Cosgrove was not wearing the second Santa suit when he was killed. According to Grace, it was in the back of her trunk the whole time.”

  Bill nodded. “Until tonight.”

  “Yes. Sorry about that, but BeBe and I searched it first. We didn’t find anything but gum wrappers and cigarette packs. And you didn’t find a notebook on his person or in his apartment.”

  Bill just scowled.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Very nice, dear,” Miss Ida said.

  Miss Edna poured more coffee.

  “I offered Grace fifty bucks for the suit to use as a backup. She sold it to me, and through my own negligence, within eight hours it’s stolen out of my trunk. But how did they know it was in my trunk?”

  Bill scratched his head. “Someone heard you say you were going to pick it up.”

  “I told BeBe this morning, but I didn’t say what time, and I told Miss Ida right before I left.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it,” Miss Ida said indignantly.

  Edna laughed. “She leads a double life, my sister.”

  Ida pursed her lips. “This is not a laughing matter.”

  “No. I apologize.”

  “And no one else knew?” Bill asked.

  Liv thought back. She hadn’t even told Ted, and there’d been no reason to mention it to anyone while she was shopping. “I did tell Penny Newland that I was going to buy it back if Grace would sell it. No wait. I saw her in the alley when I was going to get it out of Grace’s car. I told her to tell Nancy that we had an extra. The two of them were concerned about having a backup. They both seem very attached to Hank.”

  Bill raised both eyebrows and reached for another cookie. “I’ll let that pass for the moment. Could anyone have overheard you?”

  “I don’t think so, but they could have. About buying the suit, I mean. That still doesn’t explain how they knew where I’d be. Unless they’ve been following me. Or unless . . .” For a second Liv saw stars, and not the beautiful Christmas decoration kind, but the please-don’t-let me-pass-out kind.

  “What?”

  “When I came out and discovered the theft, A.K. Pierce stepped out of the shadows. He said he was on patrol. He was in BeBe’s when I took the suit there. I think he noticed it.”

  “Did you tell him about the suit being stolen?”

  “No. I—I don’t know, I was kind of spooked, so I just left and called you.” She swallowed. “You don’t think . . . no.” A.K. Pierce had recognized Cosgrove . . . but surely he wouldn’t have volunteered that information if he’d killed the man, right?

  Though now that she thought about it, who but a security person could move from place to place without raising suspicions? He’d certainly made himself visible during the last few days. And if he just happened to move evidence around . . .

  Her stomach clenched. Where had A.K. Pierce been the night of the tree lighting? She’d seen him in the crowd, hadn’t she? Surely . . . though he didn’t seem at all surprised at finding a body in the store. He was probably used to finding bodies, right?

  “Liv?”

  She jumped. “What?”

  Bill swallowed. “That’s it. I’m assigning a squad car to sit outside tonight.”

  “Outside where?”

  “Here.”

  “Good heavens,” said Miss Ida.

  “What on earth for?” Edna asked.

  “Because,” Bill said, looking intently at Liv, “if whoever stole the suit tonight didn’t find what they were looking for, they may think Liv still has it.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Liv slept well that night. Maybe it was knowing there was a squad car parked outside to scare away potential burglars or murderers. Or maybe she was just tired from running on adrenaline since October.


  Whichever it was, she arrived at work the next morning wearing a red sweater and feeling optimistic. Whiskey was wearing his bow tie, though Liv hadn’t made it to the Woofery and the bow was looking positively dog-eared.

  It didn’t deter Ted or Whiskey from bursting into song.

  Liv just handed Ted the buns and tea and coffee and went into her office, smiling.

  The yodeling duo came in a few minutes later, Whiskey with a Santa biscuit—Liv shuddered—and Ted carrying a tray of food to which had been added a miniature Christmas tree with battery-powered lights.

  “You know,” Liv said as he sat down and passed her a plate, “I could deal with your mysterious self, your love of sweets, and your penchant for drawing out a story, but this Christmas-cheer thing is a really big surprise.”

  Ted looked shocked. “Why, Liv, we are Celebration Bay. It’s our duty to celebrate.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, celebrate this.” She told him about the theft from her trunk. The squad car outside her house during the night.

  “So that’s where Bill went in such a hurry after rehearsal last night. You are coming tonight?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it, but I’m taking Whiskey home first.”

  “If you insist, but we could use another tenor.”

  “You’ll have to find him elsewhere. Now, what about the arrangements for the ice sculpture exhibit on Saturday?”

  “I talked to Andy Miller yesterday. He has the stations set up and cordoned off.”

  “Cordoned off? What about flying ice shards and escaping chain saws?”

  “We’re talking about Andy. He’s on top of it. There are bleachers and plenty of local folks policing the area and making sure no tools are left unattended and no one gets too close.”

  Liv checked it off, reminding herself that she couldn’t be everywhere at once. “The house tour?”

  “Trolley will be back by tomorrow afternoon, latest. We’re expecting a larger crowd than ever this weekend and up until the twenty-fifth. I ran it past Fred and he’s got some extra folks on traffic, and he’s coordinating with A.K. Pierce and company. We should be good there.”

  A.K. Pierce.

  “What?”

  “Hmm? Nothing. You’re amazing.”

  “While the boss is out Christmas shopping, the drone makes the calls.”

  “You can take off early to get ready for the sing-along today.”

  “I was going to. We have a run-through before the performance just to get the pipes going and clean up a few ragged hallelujahs. Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

  *

  By afternoon both desks were clear, and Liv pulled out the folder for First Night.

  “It’s three o’clock.”

  “Good-bye. Break a leg. Or whatever you say to singers before a performance.”

  “See you tonight.” Ted bundled up and went out the door humming. Whiskey padded after him but returned quickly, shot an accusing look at Liv, and went back to his doggie bed to sleep, no doubt to dream of a doggie Hallelujah Chorus to judge from the sounds that emanated from the snoring Westie.

  It grew dark. Liv checked her watch. Four o’clock. Plenty of time to finish up here, walk Whiskey home, maybe even get a shower in before coming back for the Messiah sing-along.

  Her cell phone rang.

  “Hi, Liv, it’s Dolly. I’m at the Messiah rehearsal and Penny hasn’t arrived. I tried calling the Pyne Bough, but no one answers. I know they were planning on closing early like everyone else, but Penny isn’t at home. I thought maybe she’s gotten involved making those stars that Miriam ordered and lost track of the time.

  “She may be on her way, but if you’re going home soon, would you mind swinging by the Pyne Bough?”

  “Sure. In fact, I was just about to close up. I’ll call you when I get there and let you know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell the choir director.” Dolly hung up.

  “We’re packing it in, buddy.” She shut down her computer, looked at it, decided she wouldn’t need it until tomorrow at the earliest, and left it on her desk. Whiskey danced as he waited for her to clip on his leash. He was as anxious to get outside as she was.

  It was getting late and she wanted to get home while there were still lots of shoppers on the street. She’d hardly ever felt unsafe in Manhattan, but then she’d spent a lot of her life there and knew the ropes. It was unnerving to move to a seemingly idyllic town and discover that things weren’t always as peaceful as they appeared.

  She waited for several cars to pass, then crossed the street.

  Chaz was right. When you attract a lot of outsiders, they bring their problems, their misconceptions, and their anger with them. Usually when they left, their problems left with them. Of course, then new problems would arrive. Like this past month with the opening of TAT.

  Somebody had that notebook and it had to be one of the Thornsbys or Penny Newland. And she just didn’t see Penny as a killer. Just a naïve young woman who was now paying for one night of poor judgment.

  Maybe whoever killed Cosgrove had the book. If Cosgrove had it on him when he was killed, surely the killer would have taken it. But what if Cosgrove didn’t have it? Maybe he was at the store, not to get his paycheck, but to get his notebook out of the Santa suit. But the suit was already in Grace’s car, or so she said. The police hadn’t found a notebook and neither had Liv. So where was it?

  Whiskey pulled at the leash, and Liv started toward the Pyne Bough again.

  Cosgrove clearly had evidence on Grace Thornsby and her lover. But Grace didn’t seem to care. She said she didn’t need Clarence’s money.

  And what had Cosgrove been looking up at the library? Could it in any way have something to do with his murder?

  The Pyne Bough was dark, and the door was locked. A sign read, Closed Early for the Messiah Sing-along. Most of the stores had similar signs, though many of them planned to reopen after the sing-along and stay open late.

  Liv detoured down the alley to the delivery door and noticed that a car, packed to the top of the windows, was parked at the back door of TAT.

  Liv’s immediate reaction was “Yes.” Maybe Grace was already packing up.

  Except the car wasn’t a Mercedes. It was old, really old. Jason’s maybe? Was Penny with him? Were they leaving? What about the sing-along?

  Liv felt sick. She knocked on the back door of the Pyne Bough. The door swung open and Whiskey lurched inside.

  Liv forgot about Grace, the car, and everything else. The lights were still on in the back, and Liv reminded herself that Nancy often left the door open during a delivery. And maybe other times, too.

  She tightened Whiskey’s leash and cautiously poked her head in. “Nancy? Penny?”

  The storeroom appeared empty. Hank had left for the day. His Santa suit was hanging on the clothes rack. He must not have closed the door when he left.

  “Nancy? Penny? Anyone here?”

  Not a sound came from the store.

  “Nancy?” Okay, time to get out of this store. Liv was no wuss. But there was a murderer on the loose.

  Her heart kicked up. Lying in the middle of the floor was a coat, an old parka that Liv remembered seeing the first time she’d met Penny Newland.

  Looking quickly around to make sure no one was creeping up behind her, she hurried over to the coat. She felt a little foolish, but better safe than sorry.

  Whiskey immediately began to snuffle at the coat, uncovering Penny’s purse, a crumpled piece of copy paper—and the extra Santa suit.

  Liv snatched up the paper and reached for her cell. She didn’t call Dolly, but speed-dialed Bill. It went directly to voice mail. She left a message.

  She tried Ted. Same thing; Dolly, no answer. They must all be singing.

  All this time Liv was walking toward the door to the alley, dragging a reluctant Whiskey with her.

  Something was not right. Penny’s coat and the Santa suit. Did that mean Penny had stolen it? Liv couldn’t make herself imagine Pe
nny breaking into the trunk of her car. But Jason could have. He helped out at Hank’s machine shop, and though Liv wasn’t really sure what a machinist did, she was pretty sure he could pop a trunk, especially if it hadn’t closed properly.

  Both coat and suit were lying on the floor as if they had been tossed there. Like they had fallen when someone forced Penny out of the store?

  And where was Nancy? Hank had been here. His Santa suit was hanging on the rack. Had he taken both of them? She’d never seen Hank’s car, had she?

  Her mind recoiled from that possibility.

  Liv stood in the alley, her back to the wall, and straightened out the paper. She recognized the article before she even read the words. She and Chaz had read it two nights before. Wisconsin. An explosion. The work of antiwar activists. A bombing that left a security guard dead.

  Wisconsin. Someone had been talking about Wisconsin lately.

  One person caught; three others escaped. Joss said that Hank knew Jason’s father from ’Nam. Had they returned disenchanted, been part of that crime, the ones that had escaped? Grace and Hank? How long had they been married? Had they blown up a building before returning to Celebration Bay and getting married? Was Grace even old enough to be a radical activist?

  She didn’t want to jump the gun. There could be a simple explanation. . . . No there couldn’t. Either Hank had kidnapped the women, or they had gone willingly. Or someone else had forced them to leave together once Hank was gone.

  Liv pulled out her cell and started to call nine-one-one. Stopped, afraid that a siren barreling toward the Pyne Bough would panic whoever was holding them.

  She looked down the alley, went over to the opening to the parking lot next to the Pyne Bough, and peered out. Cars were driving around searching for parking spaces, but there was no one she recognized. Not that she’d really expected to see them running across the asphalt.

  She called Bill again. Left another message.

  She looked back at the packed car at the door of TAT. Grace wasn’t moving out. Someone was getting away. The car was facing west, the direction of the highway. But if it wasn’t Grace, why stop at TAT?

  Whiskey pulled at the leash.

  “Okay, we’ll just go take a quick peek at the car. But not too close.” They skulked forward, Whiskey pulling at the leash, Liv holding tight with one hand and holding her cell in the other.