Angela reared back, her eyes bugging with amazement. “You have been a busy lady. You must be exhausted. How is your head feeling this morning?”
I touched my scalp. “It doesn’t hurt as much, now that you mention it.”
“The murderer’s been busy too,” Angela said, “following you to the cabin, trailing after Mariel in the wee hours of the morning.” She paused. “You know, Dina might have murdered her mother.”
“Or it could have been her brother or Jennifer or Paul Darby or Chris Crowley.”
“Or even his mother,” Angela said.
“Why Stella Crowley?” I asked.
“She might not have liked the way the Parrs treated her son. From what you’ve told me about her, Stella Crowley sounds like a very protective mother.”
We made plans to have lunch at noon at the Cozy Corner Café, and Angela departed as quickly as she’d arrived. Sally appeared minutes later with a bowlful of chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Part of a holiday basket from an appreciative patron,” she said. “Dig in!”
I took a handful of strawberries and placed them on one of the paper plates I’d learned to keep in the office for just such occasions. We talked about Mariel’s murder and how awful it was until Trish arrived and most of our conversation was repeated.
“I see I’m not going to get any work done today,” I said.
Sally laughed. “Were you expecting to?”
I shrugged.
“By the way,” Trish said, “I just saw Smoky Joe race across the reading room and behind the circulation desk.”
“He must be after that mouse,” I said.
“I’m afraid the word is ‘mice,’” Sally said. “Several more of them. Yesterday I saw two tiny babies dive back into one of the grates as I was entering the storeroom behind the circulation desk.”
‘Oh, no!” Trish and I shouted at the same time.
“Much as I hate to bring chemicals into the library, it looks like I’ll be calling in the exterminator after all.”
When Sally left, I looked over my December expenses to make sure I’d recorded every receipt. I’d learned to keep track of every penny I spent so I could fill out those dreadful forms every month. When I looked up, it was five after eleven.
“Trish, Marion invited me to the pre-Ks’ party. I’ll be there awhile.”
“Take your time,” Trish said, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry from her stash. “I’m enjoying my own little party.”
Evelyn reappeared and strode beside me as I walked across the large reading room to the children’s room.
“Two visits in one day?” I said. “I’m honored.”
“I haven’t seen Tacey in a while,” she said. “I miss her.”
“She is a little cutie,” I agreed.
The kiddies’ holiday party was in full swing as we entered the room. Alvin and the Chipmunks were singing their well-known Christmas song as Marion and Gayle spooned portions of mac and cheese onto the plates of eleven four-year-olds sitting around two kiddie-sized tables. A few parents stood chatting along the far wall. I waved to Julia, my cousin by marriage, and approached the children.
As soon as she saw me, Tacey jumped out of her chair and ran over to hug me. “Cousin Carrie! You came to our holiday party, and you brought Miss Evelyn with you!”
Oh, no! Now you’ve done it, Evelyn. I looked around. No one was paying us any attention. No one but Julia.
“Tacey,” I said softly. “Miss Evelyn’s our secret, remember? No one but you and I can see her.”
“I’m so happy to see you, Tacey,” Evelyn said. “I wish I could hug you, but I can’t.”
“I know,” Tacey said. “And I won’t try to give you any cookies.” She took me by the hand and led me back to her table. “Miss Marion said that Santa’s coming later, but I know he’s only make-believe.”
Marion looked frazzled as she walked over to me. “Glad you made it, Carrie. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“Nothing to eat, thanks, but I’ll have some fruit punch.”
Marion waved to her assistant, who was pouring drinks for the children. Gayle brought me a cup of punch.
“Thank you,” I said.
I stood behind Tacey and sipped my punch. Evelyn knelt on the other side of my little cousin, and the two of them chatted in low tones. I felt a bit guilty, deliberately blocking Julia’s view of her daughter, but I’d sensed how much Evelyn wanted to spend time with Tacey. Julia could never understand that her daughter’s so-called imaginary friend wasn’t imaginary at all.
A roar of excitement arose as the kids noticed Santa Claus had entered the room. “Good afternoon, children!” boomed Uncle Bosco, looking like old St. Nicolas himself in his black boots and belt, his red suit and hat trimmed in white, and a large sack slung over his shoulder. “Were you good children all year?”
“Yes!” they shouted.
“Very good. I have presents for good children.”
I noticed Santa’s beard was crooked and hurried over to straighten it out.
“These damn toys are heavy, Carrie,” he whispered. “Help me set the sack down.”
The sack was heavy. Uncle Bosco sighed with relief as I slid it down his back to the floor. Marion instructed the children to remain in their seats and promised that everyone would have a chance to talk to Santa and receive a gift.
I joined the parents and watched as Santa spoke to each child and reached into the sack for a present. The little ones ripped open their gifts. They all seemed happy with Santa’s choice of presents.
I realized Evelyn had disappeared when Santa joined the party. Something else I’d learned today: that Evelyn cared about Tacey as much as my little cousin cared about her.
Julia leaned over to me and asked, “What did Tacey say when she saw you? I thought it was something about her imaginary friend.”
I smiled. “It’s just a little game we play.”
Julia looked relieved. “That’s good to know. She’s taken quite a shine to you, Carrie. The two of you seem to share a special bond.”
“I’m glad, because I adore your daughter,” I said. “Tacey’s a special little girl.”
Julia beamed. “Well, I think so, but I’m her mother.”
I smiled back, wishing she knew just how special her daughter really was.
At that moment Smoky Joe entered the room, causing an uproar as each child called to him, urging him to come closer. Good little cat that he was, he visited each of them in turn, letting them pet him and making him the center of their attention. What a wonderful addition to the library he had turned out to be! I stayed a few more minutes to chat with Santa, then returned to my office.
It was close to noon. I had lunch ahead of me and perhaps a visit from John; the carolers at two; then home at three. By then, Dylan would have brought my father back from the hospital. I looked forward to a quiet evening after a hectic day.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I found John pacing outside my office when Angela and I returned from lunch.
“Sorry. I should have called to let you know I’d be leaving the building,” I said. “Have you been waiting long?”
“I only got here a few minutes ago.” He chuckled. “As soon as Sally saw me, she hauled me off to her office and plied me with chocolate-covered strawberries. They look so good, I’ve saved a few to bring home to Sylvia.”
I laughed. “At the rate Sally’s doling them out, I’m amazed she has any left.”
We entered my office. Trish looked up from what she was doing and grinned. “Uh-oh, the law has arrived.”
“Go ahead and treat yourself to a long break while I’m being grilled.”
“Yes, boss.” Trish stood. “I think I’ll check to see if Sally has any chocolate-covered strawberries left.”
John sank into the seat she’d vacated and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” I asked.
“That would
be wonderful. Two sugars, a little milk, and any cookies you can scrounge up.”
“I’m off to the staff room. Be right back.”
Sure enough, there were more platters of cookies and other yummy treats on the table. I made up a paper cup of coffee for John the way he liked it and wrapped a generous assortment of goodies in a napkin. I returned to my office and waited while he downed half his coffee and devoured several cookies.
“Thanks, Carrie. That hit the spot.” John patted his stomach and stretched his arms overhead. “Now, would you please run through last evening’s events, starting with Dina and Mariel Parr’s arrival at your cottage.”
“I think I’d better backtrack to Monday evening.”
I explained to John why I’d gone to the Crowleys’ house and about meeting Dina there. That we had decided to go out for something to eat and ended up making plans to drive up to her father’s cabin to look for the gems.
He frowned. “The gems that weren’t stolen and no one knows anything about?”
“The very ones. I let Dina think I was her new partner, but if the gems were at the cabin, I intended to hand them over to Dylan.”
“To keep your father out of trouble.”
I smiled. “There’s also a lovely reward for finding the gems.”
“Which you would probably hand over to Jim, who stole them in the first place.”
I fluttered my eyelashes. “What preposterous ideas you come up with, Lieutenant. Anyway, as I told you yesterday, Dina didn’t come with me, after all—supposedly to keep her mother occupied and prevent her from going to the cabin.”
“Why was Mariel suddenly interested in going there?”
“She wants the gems like everyone else.” I was careful not to mention that Jim and Mariel had joined forces. “As you know, I found nothing and got hit over the head for my troubles. Whoever attacked me rummaged through my pocketbook and my pockets. And no, I didn’t see him because he—or she—knelt behind me the whole time.”
John scowled. “That was a stupid risk you took, going there by yourself.”
I patted his arm. “I appreciate your concern, and I’m okay—now. I was seriously annoyed when Dina told me she hadn’t spent the day with her mother as planned, because Mariel had to take care of something.”
“So either Dina or Mariel could have followed you to the cabin.”
“I suppose.”
“Did your assailant speak? Wear a fragrance you might recognize again?”
“You asked me that yesterday.”
“I did,” John said, “but in police work we go over the same ground again and again. It can help jog a witness’s memory.”
“I heard a few grunts, but I couldn’t say if they were made by a man or a woman.”
“You must have noticed the color of the assailant’s jacket.”
I thought a moment. “I did! It was navy. And he wore gloves. They were black leather.”
“Why do you say he? What made you think it was a man who struck you?”
“I’m not sure. I just do.”
“Was he taller than you?”
“Maybe a few inches.” I cocked my head. “Does that help?”
John gave me a half smile. “Every piece of the puzzle makes a difference. We’ll check out everyone’s alibi for the times of the murders and the time you were attacked, again and again. That’s what so much detective work involves, Carrie—painstaking attention to small pieces of information. Often we’re like archeologists sifting through sand, discovering shards of pottery that make up a pitcher or a plate.”
I nodded, liking his analogy.
“Did you notice the assailant’s car when he took off?” John asked.
“No. He left before I got to my feet. I remembered hearing a vehicle passing when I was inside the cabin. I thought it was simply a car driving by.”
“Any distinguishing sounds the motor made?”
I shook my head. “I was concentrating on searching every cabinet and drawer. Later in the day, my father called to say he’d be making dinner. I invited Dylan. I discovered my father had invited Dina and Mariel.” I stopped, embarrassed.
“Go on,” John urged.
“From a previous conversation I’d overheard, I knew that Richard Parr was estranged from both his parents and that he knew about the gems. I tried to provoke Dina and Mariel into admitting they suspected Richard might have killed Benton after he’d refused to lend his son money. All I succeeded in doing was upsetting them both.”
“Richard Parr has no solid alibi for yesterday morning when you were attacked at the cabin. He didn’t arrive at his job until the early afternoon, claiming he had to babysit their son while his wife kept a doctor’s appointment.”
“Interesting!” I sat back, digesting this. Maybe I’d been on the right track all along. “I suppose he had a motive of sorts to kill his father, but I’m not sure why he’d want to kill his mother.”
“There’s a substantial life insurance policy on her life, to be shared by both Dina and Richard upon Mariel’s death.”
“And he was out driving around early this morning,” I mumbled to myself.
“What did you say?”
I bolted upright in my chair. “Dina told me Richard had been driving around at the time of Mariel’s murder. According to Dina, when he passed the crime scene, he noticed two people talking in the shadows. At the time, he had no idea who they were.”
John nodded as he thought. “I sent Danny to tell Richard Parr that his mother had been murdered. Danny said Parr had a weird reaction to the news. He mumbled, ‘I should have known.’ Could be he meant that he should have recognized his own mother was one of the people he’d seen arguing. Of course that doesn’t mean he’s innocent. And he didn’t give a satisfactory explanation when Danny asked why he was up and dressed at six in the morning when he usually left for work hours later.”
“Dina said he’d gone out driving after arguing with his wife. Do you think Richard Parr killed both his parents and Tom Quincy?” I asked.
“It’s too soon to say anything more than that he’s a person of interest.”
“Jennifer Darby turned out to be a strange bird. She wasn’t at all surprised when I told her that Mariel Parr had been murdered.” I repeated our conversation as best I could recall it.
“You’ve been a busy woman,” John said when I finished. He stood. “I’m off to talk to Jennifer. See you tomorrow evening at your aunt and uncle’s.”
I grinned. “I’m glad you and Sylvia will be there.”
He winked. “And say hi to Dylan for me. We had a long chat this morning.”
“Did you?” I felt my face grow warm. No doubt our relationship had been a topic of conversation.
I watched John close my office door behind him, musing how our relationship had changed. When I’d first met Lieutenant John Mathers two months ago, he’d been distant and inflexible, unwilling to share any information about the two murders I’d found myself investigating. But that changed after I’d provided the police with a journal written by one of the victims and helped solve both cases. I grinned. And it didn’t hurt that John and his wife, Sylvia, were good friends of Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco.
The recent unsolved homicides demanded my attention, and I tried to think of them from a different perspective. What did they have in common? The gems. Did the same person kill all three victims, or had Tom Quincy killed Benton?
I wondered if there were two murderers rather than one, each person carrying out his or her part. What if Jennifer and Paul were in on it together, and their estrangement had been staged so everyone would think they were at odds with each other, when, in fact, they were working as a team? They had means, motive, and opportunity. Jennifer had been close to Benton. Paul had been seen arguing with one of the victims and near two of the murder scenes. What if Jennifer had only pretended to care about Benton and plotted with her husband to kill him once she’d learned about the gems?
Then why was she still ha
nging around Clover Ridge, worried that Sally would dock her if she didn’t come to work today? It wasn’t what someone would do if she had seven million dollars worth of gems at her disposal. Unless Jennifer knew about the gems, but not where Benton had hidden them, and she was as much in the dark regarding their location as everyone else.
Or she wanted people to think she needed to work today so they wouldn’t suspect that the gems had been in her possession all along. And once she was in New York or wherever she was really going, Paul would join her.
My cell phone rang, jarring me from my speculations.
“Hey, babe. How are you?”
Hearing Dylan’s voice sent a surge of happiness coursing through me. “It’s been a strange day. Everything feels surreal—Mariel’s murder, us, Christmas almost here.”
“I’m on my way to the hospital to pick up your dad. They’ve given him the okay to go home.”
“Thanks, Dylan. Mariel’s death has shaken him badly.”
“That’s not surprising. What time will you be home?”
“Around three twenty.”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“I miss you too.”
I felt the grin spread across my face as I disconnected the call. I’d be seeing Dylan in just a few hours. And tomorrow. And the next day.
And then what? He’d go off to another assignment a plane ride away, and we’d communicate via texts and phone calls. Was it enough? Was that the kind of relationship I wanted?
I shook my head, refusing to follow that train of thought. I had to focus on the positive. Our romance was new and wonderful. The man I loved cared about me, and that was most important right now. Other matters needed attention—like discovering who had murdered three people and was hell-bent on finding the gems my father and Benton had stolen.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Aunt Harriet called to talk to me about Christmas Eve, which was the following evening. She was delighted when I said Dylan would be joining us and distressed to learn that Jim was about to leave the hospital for a second time.
“He fell trying to straighten out the snowman on top of my Christmas tree,” I said, omitting why he’d bothered doing that in the first place.
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