Murder Wears a Veil

by Maddie Cochere

  “We’re going to need another member for the Blue Hat Society,” Rita said. “I’m going to miss all her good ideas for our group.”

  Aunt Bee nodded. “It was her idea to get the tattoos.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Did you ever get the tattoos?”

  “Yep,” Mama said. “We got blue fedoras on our left butt cheek on account of we’re not just the Blue Hat Society, but we solve crimes, too.”

  I frowned and laughed at the same time. “What do you mean you solve crimes, too?”

  “It was Lucille who went undercover at the drug house and found out what that man was selling to the college kids,” Rita said. “You wouldn’t have known that without her help.”

  “She didn’t go undercover,” I said dryly. “She walked in and bought weed for herself.”

  “It was the Blue Hat Society that helped you trap that crooked police officer,” Aunt Bee said.

  “I’d say we’re on our way to becoming a full-fledged private dick company,” Mama said.

  I rolled my eyes so far back in my head, I’m surprised they didn’t get stuck.

  “I’m going to miss Tuesday night tuna noodle casserole,” Roger said.

  “What’s that got to do with Lucille?” I asked.

  Aunt Bee spoke up again. “Every Tuesday night, Lucille had us over to her house for tuna noodle casserole. It was Estelle and Roger, Max and me, and Rita. Rita hooked up with Floyd too late for the casserole parties.”

  It wasn’t surprising I didn’t know this. I didn’t know half of what my family was doing most of the time.

  “How long were you having casserole parties?” Glenn asked.

  “We only had one,” Mama said. “But we would have had a lot more if Lucille had lived.”

  The mood turned somber until two waitresses arrived ten seconds later with our meals on large round trays.

  “What’d you order for me?” I asked Glenn when my plate was set in front of me.

  “Surf and turf eggs Benedict.”

  “This isn’t something light.”

  “It looks good.”

  “Then you eat it. I wanted something light.”

  Keith said loud enough for everyone at the table to hear, “Aunt Jo and Uncle Glenn are having their first fight since they got married. I’m putting a dollar on Aunt Jo for the win.” A moment later, he let out a loud ouch, and I knew Pepper had kicked him under the table.

  Glenn laughed. The dimple in his right cheek tempted me to lean over and kiss him. Because we were on our honeymoon, I’d been able to kiss him anywhere and as often as I wanted. I wished I had taken him up on his offer to go back to our room for a last hurrah.

  “Is this our first fight?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

  I smiled at Keith and said, “We’re not fighting. And now that I see there’s lobster and filet mignon on my English muffin, it looks a lot better than when it first arrived.”

  I dug in and, as usual, found the food delicious. If I lived here, I’d eat this every day.

  “Our flight doesn’t leave until ten forty-five tonight,” Max said. He turned to Aunt Bee and asked, “What’s on tap for today?”

  Before she could answer, Mama said, “The hotel manager called this morning. We have to have our bags packed and be out of our rooms by noon. He said the hotel probably won’t see a dime from Lucille’s estate, and they want the rooms.”

  Pepper’s mouth hung open. “What are we supposed to do with our luggage? Haul it around with us all day? Where are we supposed to go? When are-”

  Roger held his hand up to stop her flow of questions. “We can check our bags with the front desk. They’ll hold them for us until we leave for the airport. I think since this is our last day here, we should probably all go our separate ways. Find something you want to do and do it.”

  “I want to go to the aquarium,” Kelly said, looking hopefully at her dad. “You said we could go, and we haven’t yet.”

  “Me, too,” Keith said. “I want to see the sharks.”

  Buck made a face. “You can go to the aquarium in Cleveland. I thought we’d find a volcano and check it out.”

  “Really?” Keith asked. “Cool! Can we take something to throw in? Oh! We should have taken Lucille. We could have tossed her in as an offering to the gods.”

  “Are you kidding?” Roger asked. “She’d cut a fart in there, and the volcano would erupt and kill everyone on the island.”

  By the time everyone finished making jokes about Lucille and her many inappropriate instances of flatulence, with a few of Mama’s embarrassing moments thrown in for good measure, we were done eating and ready to head back to the hotel to check out.

  Glenn slipped his arm around my waist as we walked to the van. “What do you want to do with the rest of our day? We could head down to the beach and relax.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to swim. We won’t have our room to shower or change before we leave for the airport. Let’s find something else to do. We can look at brochures again in the lobby.”

  We climbed in the van and heard the ladies of the Blue Hat Society planning a snorkeling adventure. Mama waved Lucille’s credit card in the air and said, “Today, I’m Lucille Crabtree.”

  “Mama!” I said sharply. “You can’t use Lucille’s credit card. That’s fraud. That’s a felony. You’ll go to jail.”

  “Hogwash,” she said. “Lucille already booked reservations for Friday afternoon. I’ll just be her for a few minutes while I call and change our snorkeling time to today. They already have her credit card information, so I probably won’t have to use it. No harm, no foul.”

  “My mother is a criminal,” I whispered to Glenn.

  He laughed. “It won’t do any good to argue with her. She’s got her mind made up, but I’ll talk to her before they leave. As long as she doesn’t actually swipe the card or sign anything, I think she’ll be ok.”

  Behind us, Buck had relented to Pepper’s protestation of, “I’m not walking a mile just to look in a black hole with no lava,” and the Swenson’s were now making plans to go to the aquarium.

  Nancy and Hank had their heads together in the back of the van. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, so I had no idea what they were planning. Maybe they would want to tag along with Glenn and me.

  Roger parked the van and the mood inside turned gloomy. We shuffled into the hotel like prisoners on a chain gang, looking depressed and pathetic. It was embarrassing to be thrown out of a luxury hotel.

  We walked through the lobby toward the elevators. Two men standing at the front desk watched us walk by. One was an attractive, surfer-dude type with sun-bleached hair. He looked laid-back and comfortable in a floral Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and flip-flops. The other man was tall with a darker, more severe look, but he, too, was dressed casually, wearing a Chicago Bulls t-shirt, jeans, and expensive tennis shoes.

  I accidentally made eye contact with the tall, creepy man. Not wanting to appear rude, I attempted a smile before looking away.

  “That’s her,” one of the men said. Whichever one uttered the words had a high-pitched voice that sounded more like a woman’s than a man’s. “It looks like her, and she’s wearing the same clothes.”

  Uh-oh. Someone must have caught on to Mama’s enlistment of the pet crematorium’s services. Maybe the tall, creepy man worked there and was narking on Mama. He certainly looked the part with his gaunt face and thick, black-rimmed glasses. I kept my focus directly ahead and walked a little faster.

  A deep voice behind us called out, “Jo Ravens.”

  I turned around. The surfer dude had stepped up behind me.

  “No,” I said.

  The man wasn’t fooled. “You fit the description of Jo Ravens, and you turned around when I called your name.”

  “Like a dog,” Keith said.

  Buck whapped him in the back of the head with the palm of his hand.

  Glenn was more cordial. “Her name is Jo Wheeler. We just got married. I’m her husband
, Glenn.” He stuck his hand out to shake the other man’s hand.

  “What do you want with me?” I asked, unable to mask the annoyance in my voice.

  The man pulled a badge from his shirt pocket. “I’m Detective Adam Hale with the Honolulu Police Department.” He pointed to the man in the Bulls t-shirt. “This is Pete Sinclair. He’s lodged a complaint against you. You can either come with me to the security office here in the hotel, or I can take you down to headquarters, and we can talk there. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Mama stepped forward. “It wasn’t Jo who threw Lucille over the cliff. It was me. So, if you have a bone to pick with anyone, it should be me.”

  Buck stepped in front of Mama. “Technically, I threw Lucille over the cliff. If there’s a fine or penalty to pay, I’d be happy to pay. Jo didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Keith wasn’t such a smart aleck now that he realized a policeman stood in front of him. He looked frightened and said far too loudly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to litter. I didn’t know her underwear would get caught on the rocks.”

  The man looked thoroughly confused, but I noticed a hint of a smile in his eyes. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Lucille. I just need you to come with me.

  Glenn slipped his hand in mine. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”

  “Just so you know,” I said to the detective, “my husband is a police officer, so he’ll know if you’re asking illegal questions.”

  The man smiled. “There’s no such thing as an illegal question.”

  Glenn and I followed Detective Hale down a hallway to the hotel offices. Pete Sinclair followed behind us. We entered an office through a door marked Security.

  Sunlight streamed into the large room through open blinds. Mismatched chairs lined the walls.

  The detective leaned against the massive desk in the center of the room and instructed us to take a seat anywhere. Glenn and I sat in chairs facing the desk. Pete sat in a chair on the opposite wall behind the detective.

  “Mr. Sinclair says you broke into his home this morning.”

  My mouth fell open, and my brain went into overdrive. His home? What home? The house on the cliff? If Pete Sinclair lived in the house on the cliff, did he know the bride and groom? Did he know the groom was dead?

  I looked at Glenn with my eyes wide, pleading for help even though he couldn’t possibly know what I was trying to convey to him. He frowned and looked confused.

  I stared at my hands in my lap and refused to look up. I had a sinking feeling we wouldn’t be flying home tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Until I had more details from Detective Hale, I wasn’t admitting to anything. I tried to maintain my composure and sound convincing as I said, “I’ve never seen this man before in my life. I wasn’t on his property, and I certainly didn’t break into his house.”

  The detective opened a laptop on the desk, slid his finger along the touchpad, and turned the machine toward Glenn and me. Without saying a word, he clicked the triangular play button in the middle of the screen. The view that popped up was the back yard of the house on the cliff.

  The video only played for a few seconds before I came into view. It wasn’t a close-up view, but it was plain to see it was me who was running in a zigzag pattern.

  Glenn attempted to suppress laughter and coughed.

  I looked sheepishly at the detective. “Ok, it was me, but where’s the rest of the footage?” I looked over at Pete Sinclair with his deep frown and asked, “Don’t you have more views of the property? I wasn’t the only one there.”

  “This is all we have of the yard,” the detective said. “Mr. Sinclair came home and found his back door forced open. He checked his security footage, and only two cameras were working at the time. There wasn’t much to see.”

  “Was anything stolen?” Glenn asked.

  The detective glanced over his shoulder at Pete before turning back to us and saying, “The only missing item was a set of rare coins he recently purchased.”

  I maintained my innocence. “I didn’t break in. You can see on the video I don’t have anything in my hands.”

  Pete Sinclair finally spoke. The high-pitched voice I heard earlier belonged to him. It didn’t fit his dark demeanor.

  “You could have stuffed them under your shirt or down your pants.”

  “I’m on my honeymoon,” I said. “Why would I break into your house to steal coins? I have no idea who you are or what you own.”

  “How did you know where to find us?” Glenn asked. “How did you know my wife’s name?”

  The detective tapped a few more keys on the laptop and brought up another video of the property. This camera faced the driveway. The van was in clear view on the side of the road. We watched as I ran into the picture and up to the van. It took a minute before Roger pulled the van into the driveway to turn around. When the detective zoomed in, the license plate was clearly visible.

  “The van was rented by Lucille Crabtree,” the detective said. “It was easy to find out where she was staying, although it was a surprise to find out she’s now deceased.”

  Pete interrupted and said, “We showed the video to the desk clerk, and he told us who you were.”

  Lucille would have made the hotel reservations before Glenn and I were married. She must have used my maiden name when booking our room.

  The detective shot Pete a look that made it clear he wanted him to be quiet. He turned back to me and said, “Why don’t you tell me what you were doing on the property.”

  Glenn spoke up. “Lucille was cremated yesterday. We were looking for a place for her ashes. When we saw Mr. Sinclair’s property, it seemed like a good spot to toss her into the ocean.”

  “Why my place?” Pete asked. “You could have spread her on anything.”

  He made her sound like she was nothing more than a sandwich spread.

  “We’d already been driving a while,” Glenn said. “Yours was the first place with easy access to the ocean. I knocked on your front door to ask permission, but when no one answered, we walked along the edge of your property to the cliff and had a short ceremony for our friend. We were on and off your property within ten minutes.”

  The detective looked confused. “Do you know what the law is in Hawaii regarding human ashes?”

  Glenn held his hands out, palms upward in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I’m really sorry. We didn’t open the urn, so the ashes are probably still contained in it.”

  The detective’s mouth turned slightly upward at the corners. “Hawaii views human ashes as harmless. You can spread them anywhere you like as long as you’re considerate to other people.”

  My jaw dropped. I was going to kill Mama. She was the one who said we couldn’t spread Lucille on any plant life. Glenn and I wouldn’t be in this office right now, and I would have never seen a bride murder her groom if Mama had asked about the ashes at the Cut-Rate Pet Crematorium.

  The detective asked, “What did you do after you tossed the urn into the ocean?”

  “Estelle said a prayer and we left,” Glenn said.

  “I stayed behind for a few minutes,” I said.

  “To break into my house,” Pete said loudly.

  “I didn’t break into your house,” I said emphatically. “It’s been an eventful vacation. Lucille was paying for everything for all of us. When she died, her assets were immediately frozen. Since none of us can afford to pay for the vacation, the hotel is throwing us out this morning. I wanted a few minutes by myself to, and I know this will sound weird, but I wanted a few minutes alone to just breathe.”

  The detective looked sympathetic. “Didn’t Mrs. Crabtree pay in advance?”

  Glenn shook his head. “She booked the rooms with her credit card, but the card hasn’t been charged yet. Now that she’s dead, and the hotel knows she’s dead, they won’t run the card and put any charges on it. Our plane tickets home are paid for but nothing else.”

  “Sorry for your lu
ck,” the detective said. His attitude seemed to be a mix of sympathy and not giving a rat’s patootie. He handed a yellow legal pad to me. “Write down everything you just told me. When you’re done, I want names, addresses, and phone numbers of all the people who were with you on Mr. Sinclair’s property. You’re not under arrest, but I may need to get in touch with you later.”

  This was our last day in paradise, and I didn’t want to waste time. I resisted the urge to argue and resigned myself to at least another hour in this office while writing a statement. I hated writing statements.

  Glenn slipped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. “I’ll try to catch everyone before they head out. I’ll fill them in on what’s going on and get addresses and phone numbers for you.”

  I was grateful. I knew some of the extra information but not all of it.

  “You’ll have to pack our bags and leave them with the front desk,” I said. “This is going to take a while.”

  The three men left the room. Detective Hale and Pete Sinclair talked in the hallway, their voices carrying back into the room. They continued discussing the stolen coins as well as Pete’s extensive coin collection and its value.

  I took the pad of paper and sat down at the desk. I watched the two videos again. It seemed suspicious the only footage available was of me running after seeing the murder. The video didn’t have sound, so the gunshot wasn’t evident. I played the first video again and realized the gunshot happened before I came into view. I was already zigzagging by then.

  Stupid zigzag.

  There were two papers on the desktop. I picked them up and saw one of them was Pete’s complaint. I used the laptop to do a quick internet search and found he owned a dental practice in the Bridgeport neighborhood of Chicago. A recent news article indicated he was presently in Hawaii, where his marriage to Ping Soap heiress, Natalie Ping, took place this morning at sunrise.