“Wait … who’s we?” Zoe tilted her head with curiosity blazing in her gray eyes.
“Linda, Sally, Jack, Frank, and Pierre.”
“Since when did you become on a first name basis with Cruella and her band of misfits?” Jo snorted.
“Since getting hit on the head—sort of—and finding a hidden door and exploring a secret passageway.”
“Okay, backup, sister.” Jo crossed her arms and settled in. “Start over and don’t leave anything out.
I told them everything that had happened in great detail through our entire meal and even dessert.
“I’m taking it the map is the secret that was hiding within the walls of the inn.” Zoe dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth.
“Exactly. The map is the key to Peirce’s fortune, but even if we don’t find it, the historical find of the map alone as well as the ancient hidden tunnel will put Divine Inspiration on the map just like my vision predicted.”
“It’s almost better if the treasure isn’t found,” Jo said. “I bet the rumor of it alone will bring people from all over to the inn. Maybe Linda won’t have to sell now.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “If she’s innocent, that is. She’s not completely out from under suspicion in the death of her husband. And we still don’t know who she was having an affair with, but I have my suspicions.”
“Oh, hey, there’s Wendy Statham.” Zoe stood up and waved, trying to get the woman’s attention.
“Who?” I asked.
“The cake lady,” Jo responded, watching Zoe walk over to talk to the woman. “Zoe is helping Granny and Fiona plan the Fall Harvest party for Vivian.”
“Ah,” I said. “Speaking of party planners, I have something to tell you.”
Jo frowned, her attention back on me now. “Why so serious? You look concerned, or constipated, which is something I know lots about these days.” She smirked.
“Funny.” I shook my head, then looked her in the eye until her smirk disappeared. “I don’t want you to be afraid.”
“Now that you’ve said that, how can I not be?” Jo wrung her hands together. “What the heck is wrong? Did you have a vision about the baby?” She dropped her hand and covered her belly. She was going to make such a great mother.
“Nothing’s wrong with your baby,” I quickly reassured her, but at her doubtful look, I admitted, “Okay, well, maybe a little something’s wrong, but I promise it has nothing to do with the baby. Mitch thinks that maybe the killer wasn’t someone with a grudge against Peirce or Linda. Maybe the killer had something against you and Cole.”
Jo wrinkled up her face. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you did fire Theresa McFarland as your wedding planner,” I pointed out as gently as I could.
“After she called me fat,” Jo snapped. “She had it coming.”
“I know, but I also know something you might not.”
“Like what?” She eyed me with confusion.
“She crashed your reception.”
Jo gasped. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t even see her.”
“She was on the police list of people who were there. I’m sure she kept a low profile. She probably just wanted to see Zoe fail.”
“Or she made sure my day was a disaster.” Jo’s jaw hardened. “I can’t help it I ruined her reputation. People like me.”
“She made her own bed,” I agreed. “But I’m just not sure she would kill someone to get even.”
Jo pushed the last of her dessert plate away, a true indication she was upset. Jo didn’t push any food away these days. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Actually Mitch was going to talk to her today.”
“I’m surprised you let him go without you.”
“I already had plans with you and Zoe. I wasn’t about to bail on seeing your first sonogram.”
“Spoken like a true best friend, but…”
“You know me too well.” I laughed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t plan to do a little investigating of my own.”
“There’s more?” Jo actually looked sick.
“Unfortunately yes. You know Ron Durkin and his fiancé Amy?”
“You know I do. They’re the couple who lost out on having their wedding at the inn the same day we were. I can’t help it Peirce chose me. I refer people to the inn all the time when they eat at Smokey Jo’s. He owed me a favor.”
“He probably also felt he owed Ron something, so he hired his tent company to put up your wedding tent. Ron was on the police list. He’s the boss. He doesn’t set up tents, yet he did yours.”
“Yeah, he helped set it up all right. Set it up to fall.” Jo ground her teeth. “You won’t have to put them away in prison if they had anything to do with ruining my wedding. I’ll put them six feet under when I kill them both myself.”
***
Later that afternoon I headed to Mini Central Park with its old fashioned street lamps, park benches, gazebo, and swan pond. Granny and Fiona and my mother were all there, overseeing the preparations for the Fall Harvest Party which was due to take place in two days. The sun was shining bright, the fall colors of brilliant reds and yellows and golds and various shades of orange on display in gorgeous fashion.
The gazebo was set up for the DJ to use and a big tent was being constructed near the swan pond. Fred and Ginger—Divinity’s resident swans—were protesting people so close to their nesting place, even though their babies were grown and getting ready to leave the nest any day now.
“There’s my Sunshine,” Granny Gert said, throwing her arms around me in a big hug, squeezing me hard. She had on a warm sweater coat over her polyester pantsuit and of course her tried-and-true apron. She’d brought apple and oatmeal cookies for the crew setting up the scene. “Care for a cookie, dear?” She held out a plate and grinned at me endearingly, her snappy brown eyes standing out beneath the clear plastic rain cap she had secured to her head. There wasn’t a chance of rain today, but Granny wouldn’t risk the wind messing up her perfectly set, snow white hair.
“Oh, Sunny, it’s so nice to see you.” Fiona hugged me, patting my back. “You’re looking darling.”
“You too,” I replied, taking in her fashionable cotton pantsuit and trendy cut and color. “Looks like renewing your vows agreed with you.”
“It’s about time you got here to help,” my mother chimed in from beside her. “And taking a break already, no less.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Mother.” I smiled.
“How’s the treasure hunting?” She said casually as if she didn’t give a hoot, but I could tell she was dying of curiosity. It didn’t surprise me that she’d heard already. Not much got by my mother.
“Unfortunately, we’re at a dead end, but I still have the map. Hopefully something will come to me to clue us in on the whereabouts of the treasure. In the meantime, I’m helping Mitch with your case.”
“Ah, so now you care.”
Just then Morty appeared by my side from out of nowhere, wearing a flannel bowtie. Granny’s idea of helping him ward off the chill. My mother shrieked, jumping back a step, and I could have sworn I heard hissing laughter.
I scooped Morty up, giving him a stern disapproving look, and then met my mother’s eyes with an apologetic look of my own. “Sorry,” I muttered and steered the subject back on track. “I’ve always cared, Mother. I was simply trying to keep the peace with my boyfriend, but now he’s agreed to work with me. In fact, that’s why I’m here. Do you know if Ron Durkin is here?”
She refused to make eye contact with Morty as she searched the area. “Ah yes, I thought I saw him earlier. He’s right there by the tent, overseeing his crew.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Oh, I just need to speak to him for a moment, is all. Have fun with the party preparations.” I walked away before she could grill me further.
My father and Harry were talking to the DJ, Jason Shank. He was being a good sport about being stuck in
town. So was Wendy Statham the Cake Lady. I was glad Zoe had talked Granny into using them both for her party so at least they could make a little of their money back that they were undoubtedly losing from missing out on parties in the city.
“Mr. Durkin.” I held out my hand. He was a middle-aged, attractive man with a successful business and an equally attractive fiancé. I still couldn’t see him risking it all by committing murder, but I had to be sure.
He shook my hand with curiosity in his eyes. “And you are?”
“Sunshine Meadows, but you can call me Sunny.”
His eyes showed recognition and genuine warmth. “Your grandmother is a very sweet lady. She speaks of you all the time.”
I matched him with a warm smile of my own. “She is pretty special.”
“I’m sorry to hear about the suspicion surrounding your mother. I’m sure it will all work out.”
He seemed so sincere, my doubt about his guilt was growing. “I know it will,” I responded, “because I know she’s innocent. I’m pretty certain the guilty party had something to do with Peirce Theodore, his wife, or the bride and groom—Jo and Cole West.”
Ron’s face hardened so quickly, he transformed into a completely different person, making me reassess my first impression of him. “That wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”
“Would it surprise you that Jo is also my best friend?”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What exactly did you want to see me about, Miss Meadows?”
Morty jumped down and wandered off toward the tent. Instead of answering, I followed Morty’s lead and walked over to inspect the tent his crew had just installed. “I see you didn’t raise this tent yourself like you did the one for The West Wedding. I’m curious, Mr. Durkin, why is that?”
“I’m not shorthanded today like I was for the wedding.” He looked at me incredulously. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m just curious why a tent you had a hand in setting up fell down?”
“Accidents happen, Miss Meadows. Everyone knows that. We had to push our wedding back a whole month. I might not like the Wests for stealing the reception sight my fiancé and I had booked first, but I certainly wouldn’t resort to murder for revenge.”
“Did I mention I work with the police?” I said, and he paled. “What everyone doesn’t know, Mr. Durkin, is that the reception tent falling down was no accident.” I stared in his eyes. “The ropes on that tent were deliberately cut three quarters of the way, knowing the storm would take care of the rest. And not only that, but the reports came back confirming they were cut with the same knife used to stab Peirce Theodore to death.”
Chapter 15
“I thought I would find you out here,” I said later that night as I wandered out to the garage in my sea-foam green yoga pants, orange tie-dye T-shirt, and brown leather flip flops. What could I say? I tended to hold onto summer as long as I could.
Mitch had transformed the space, making it his own over the past couple of months. When he’d agreed to move in, he’d gotten out of the lease for his apartment and had moved his things to my house. His style was contemporary while mine was Victorian, but I was hopeful we could find a way to make it work. I had told him he could move his things inside, but Morty had made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.
So Mitch had taken over the garage, and I had gladly let him. I wanted him to feel like my house was his home. Whatever it took to accomplish that, I was all for it. He’d built a workbench to tinker with things in the back, installed indoor/outdoor carpeting throughout the rest, moved his couch, chair and a couple tables inside, and even added a TV, a mini-fridge, and a portable heater. Everything else he’d either donated to the needy or given away to friends, including his bed. I had to admit I was relieved. The last thing I wanted was for him to spend the night out here.
“Just working on my bike,” he said in a crouched position while tightening some bolts on his Harley.
He wore his old, charcoal gray NYPD sweatpants with a snug black short sleeve T-shirt that revealed the play of his muscles as he moved. He never failed to make my heart beat faster just from the sight of him. He glanced up at me and then at my bare feet, his lips twitching slightly. He knew I hated shoes and fought donning them for as long as possible.
“Still cold outside?” he asked.
“Chilly, but it’s nice and cozy in here.” I held my hands over his space heater, kicked off my flip flops, and put one foot on top of the other as I stood in front of the heat, trying to get warm.
He dropped his wrench, wiped his hands, and stood, then went to his fridge and pulled out two longnecks. Walking over to me, he smiled slowly, looking worn out as he handed the bottle to me. “Beer?”
“Sure.” I took the bottle from him and sipped. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” He took a big drink, then pulled me down onto his lap as he sat on the couch and crossed his feet on the coffee table. “But I’m feeling better now that you’re here.” He gave me a soft kiss, chasing away any chill I might have felt. He tasted like chocolate chip cookies and tangy beer and something unique Mitch. “How about you?” he asked, looking concerned. “You look tired.”
I snuggled into him, curling my legs up and leaning against his chest. “It was a long day for sure,” I responded, as he wrapped his arm around me and rested his palm on my hip. “But you make every day better.” I rested my hand on his chest. “Lunch was good, though. I can’t get over the technology these days. You should have seen the 3D sonogram Jo had of the baby. It was amazing.”
“I bet,” he said with a slight smile. “Babies are pretty amazing, but I admit they scare the hell out of me.”
“Me too,” I agreed, and once again wondered if he even wanted children. I still didn’t know if I did, either. We would have to discuss this before I proposed, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood we were in right now. It felt too good being in his arms.
I laid my head on his shoulder and looked up at him as I traced his cheekbones with my fingertips. Moving on to his forehead and down his nose, I didn’t stop until I ran my finger along his jaw and traced his scar. He made a noise that sounded like Morty when he purred. Tipping back his head, he rested it on the couch and closed his eyes. I bit back a smile, kept my fingers moving, and started talking again.
“After lunch with the girls, I went to the park to see if I could help out with the Fall Harvest Party. Granny and Fiona were in the thick of it. I’m actually shocked there haven’t been any disasters yet. Of course both the police and fire chief were on hand, so the Dynamic Duo were on their best behavior. My mother was her usual lovely self, and of course Morty just had to show up to terrorize her.” Mitch chuckled and I couldn’t help giggle a little, but then I bit my lip, knowing he wouldn’t like this next part of my story. “Um, did I tell you Granny is using Ron Durkin’s company for the tent? And, well, he was there.”
Mitch’s eyes popped open on full alert, his head snapping up and his gaze nailing me suspiciously. “I’m guessing you knew that, and that’s why you went to help. Did you talk to him?”
“Of course.” I smiled pleasantly.
He scowled. “I thought we were going to do that together?”
“And I thought we were going to talk to the party planner together, as well?” I blinked at him in an innocent fashion.
“I’m not the one who had lunch plans.” He pinned me with a knowing look.
“And I’m not going to pass up an opportunity when it presents itself.” I ran my fingertip over his Adam’s apple and down his chest.
He caught my hand, then threaded his fingers through mine as he grunted, and finally he gave up the fight. “So what did he say, anyway?”
“Well, he says he was only helping to set up the tent at the wedding reception because he was short-handed that day. He claims he has no clue how the ropes were cut three-quarters of the way with the same knife that was used in the killing.”
“I figured he would deny any knowledge of wron
gdoing.” Mitch shrugged, and absently rubbed my back with his large palm, looking pensive. “He’s not stupid, not to mention his company’s reputation is on the line.”
“I agree, but I have to say I believe him.” I ran my thumb over his as I thought about my conversation with Ron Durkin. “He genuinely seemed surprised about the ropes being deliberately cut.” I looked up at Mitch again. “How about you? What did Theresa McFarland have to say?”
“Pretty much what you would expect. She admits to crashing the party, but she claims she just wanted to see Zoe fail as the wedding planner.” Mitch chuckled sarcastically. “I guess calling Jo fat damaged Theresa’s reputation more than she realized.” Mitch shook his head. “What did she expect? She’s lived in this town long enough to know this is Joanne Burnham we’re talking about.”
“Joanne West now,” I said with a wink.
“Jo is Jo, it doesn’t really matter what her last name is. McFarland should have known that. Apparently no one will hire her to plan any party now. She’s not a happy camper,” he sighed, “but I don’t think she’s a killer, either.”
I frowned, and my stomach twisted into painful knots. “I have to say I’m getting worried, Mitch. What if we don’t find someone who looks guiltier than my mother? She can’t go to jail. That would ruin my father and devastate Granny Gert.”
“And you,” my smart detective said softly, touching the tip of my nose. “I know you two have your differences, but I also know you both love each other.”
I fought back tears and swallowed the lump in my throat. When I could finally speak, I said, “You’re right. It would kill me.”
“I’m not going to sugar coat things. I can’t promise your mother going to prison won’t happen, but I can promise you won’t go through this alone.” He stared deep into my eyes with his intense dark gaze. “You have me, and I’m not going anywhere, baby. We’ll figure this out, you have to have faith.”
“I do, I just need to find a way to take my mind off of things.” I bit my bottom lip and stared at his mouth, letting my fear, my frustration, my affection, my desire—everything I was feeling—show as clear as the water in Inspiration Lake.
Kari Lee Townsend - Sunny Meadows 04 - Perish in the Palm Page 12
