Sandra’s laptop computer was humming on her desk in the corner of the room, but there were no other signs of the writer anywhere.
Taking advantage of the time, Kate quickly went into the music room where she had seen a few guitars.
Sure enough, tucked into the corner of the room was a baby grand piano.
Without wasting a second, she approached the large instrument.
The case that contained the many strings was down flat and there were a number of framed photos across its lid. Carefully, she took down the photos, setting them on the floor, and then lifted the lid and propped it upright with its wooden stick.
She scanned the many strings. Each was equidistant from one another, but then she noticed a gap at the far end. When she examined it closely, she realized there should’ve been a string there, but it had been removed.
Kate gasped.
Sandra was the killer. She had taken one of the strings, dressed up in a black ski mask and gone over to meet Nathan on the roof.
Had it been some kind of twist on the novel she had written? Had she killed Nathan even though he had clearly liked the book and even went to one of her book signings to get his picture taken?
How then did the red Ford Thunderbird fit in? Sandra wouldn’t have needed to drive over and if she had, Kate surely would’ve heard the loud muffler. Not to mention the red car hadn’t been coming from the direction of Sandra’s house, but from the opposite end of the street.
Kate resolved that it didn’t matter. She had enough evidence for Scott to make an arrest. Forensics would be able to prove the murder weapon had come from this piano.
Quickly, she pulled her cellphone from her shorts pocket and dialed Scott.
“Katydid, you’re not done working, are you?” he asked in a pleasant voice.
“Scott! You have to get over here. I’m at Sandra’s house,” she insisted and recited the address. “She did it!”
“Whoa, slow down. She did what?”
“Killed Nathan! I’m in her music room right now and there’s a string missing from her piano!”
“Sandra Conway?”
Interrupting him, she blurted out, “I didn’t mention, but Sandra left the house right before Nathan was murdered.”
“All right, I’ll come over and check it out. Where is she now?” he asked and then Kate heard him ordering a few of his officers in the background to head on over to the address.
“I don’t know,” said Kate. “She drove off without telling me.”
“I want you to get out of the house in case she comes back. Go sit in your truck and lock the doors. We don’t know how dangerous she might be if she finds you there.”
“Okay,” said Kate. “Come quick.”
She returned her cellphone to her pocket and turned for the door. She didn’t lower the piano lid or return the framed photos where they belonged.
Her heart was in her throat as she crossed through the living room and out the back door. Kate had good timing as well as bad, and this was not one of those times she could afford to get caught in a killer’s home.
Outside, she shut the door, grabbed her tool kit and the box, and rushed around the side of the house. When she reached her truck, she set both items in the truck bed.
“Rushing off?” said Sandra behind her.
Kate whipped around, confused that the writer’s car still wasn’t in the driveway.
“Are you finished?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
Sandra furrowed her brow as if Kate was overlooking something important. “Don’t you want your check?”
“Uh, that’s okay,” she said. “You can mail it to me.”
“You’re in a hurry?”
“What?”
Sandra planted her fists on her hips. “I’m not paying for anything until I see that the work has been done perfectly.”
Kate threw open the driver-side door of her truck, saying, “Take all the time you need. I stand by my work.”
“No, let’s have a look together...right now.”
There was no way in hell Kate was going to go up onto the roof with her. Where the heck is Scott? This neighborhood isn’t that far away from the precinct.
“You know,” said Kate, stalling. “I think I might have gotten sun poisoning, so I’m just going to head home.”
“You look fine to me.”
“Look, Sandra, I don’t want any trouble,” she asserted, hopping into her truck, slamming the door, and locking the doors as fast as she could.
As if appalled, Sandra began knocking on the passenger-side window. “What has gotten into you?”
Yelling through the glass, Kate asked, “Where did you go yesterday?”
“What?”
“Yesterday you left the house and then Nathan Robillard was murdered! I saw your website, Sandra. I saw the photo of the two of you. I saw the book.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “He’s a fan of mine!”
“Notes of a Strangler?” she yelled. “Seems a bit uncanny if you ask me.”
Sandra stared at her through the glass.
Kate continued yelling, “Leave me alone! I’m a mother! I have a baby!”
“You think I’m going to hurt you? Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Then where were you yesterday?”
“Around!” she insisted. “I went to the post office and got my nails done while getting an oil change, and a bunch of other things.”
“Where’s your car now?”
“I moved it,” she exclaimed, pointing up the sidewalk to where she had parked. “I’m going to hose down the driveway, not that it’s any of your business! Would you come out of your truck? I hate screaming through glass at you!”
“I doubt you have alibis,” said Kate, twisting her key in the ignition.
“Alibis? You’ve lost your mind!”
Kate was about to pull out into the street when she saw Scott’s truck barreling down the road. Two police cruisers were driving behind him and they all came to a screeching halt.
“What in God’s name?” cried Sandra, as the officers jumped out of their vehicles and apprehended her. “Has everyone lost their mind?”
“Calm down, Ma’am,” ordered Chesterfield, who had her by the arm.
Scott approached and first glanced at Kate through the passenger-side window to make sure she was okay. He then ordered two of his men into the house to check out the music room. Finally, he said to Sandra, “You’re coming with us.”
“Why?”
“We have some questions for you,” he said vaguely.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet, but I can file the charge if you refuse to come willingly.”
His threat seemed to knock the wind right out of her and she stopped resisting and allowed Officer Chesterfield to bring her to the back of his cruiser.
After she climbed in, he shut the door and it was only then that Kate stepped out of her truck.
Scott asked her, “Why didn’t you tell us that Sandra left the house yesterday right before Nathan was killed?”
“I didn’t think anything of it. People leave their houses all the time. I didn’t make the connection. But Scott, this book she wrote, it’s called Notes of a Strangler, and I found a photo of her and Nathan at a book signing.”
“I need to check out her piano and wait for the warrant. It shouldn’t take long. As soon as forensics matches the piano wire used to kill Nathan with the piano in her house, this is all over.”
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. “And we’ll get some days to ourselves?”
He smiled. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“It would.”
After giving her a kiss, he stalked across the front yard toward the front door. As soon as he disappeared inside the house with the other officers, Sandra began pounding her fists on the squad car window.
“Kate!” she demanded. “You did this? You called the cops?”
Kate tried not
to look at her as she walked around the hood of her truck for the driver-side door, but it was impossible not to hear her.
“I didn’t do this! I didn’t kill him, Kate! I have receipts for all the places I went to yesterday! You can ask anyone who works at any of those places! Call my mechanic! Call the nail salon! I would never hurt Nathan!”
Unnerved, instead of hopping into her truck, Kate yelled, “You said it yourself, you would’ve killed any one of them for being noisy, Sandra!”
“But not Nathan! I loved him!”
“You what?”
“I did! Our relationship started when I went over to that house one night to get them to shut up!
Kate couldn’t hear anymore of her pleading lies. She climbed in behind the steering wheel, threw her truck into drive, and pulled out into the road.
But when she got home, she was hit with the sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Chapter Five
Kate threw the entrance door of Bean There wide open and stepped into the cool air conditioning. Her hair was still wet from her morning shower. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of using a hot hairdryer, much less plugging it into the wall and getting down to business. She had left Josephine with Maxwell at the house, relaying the plan that she would probably need him to babysit until Scott could get time off work.
As she edged into the coffee shop, she glanced around for her best friend, Carly, whom she had called earlier to meet for breakfast. But it looked like Kate was the first to arrive. She didn’t see Carly amongst the many customers who were lounging at tables, drinking coffee, reading books and the morning paper, scrolling through their laptops and trying to get a little work done away from their offices.
Molly Parker, the new owner of Bean There was stationed behind the counter. She was a short, plump woman in her early thirties with wavy blond hair and an optimistic attitude.
Joining the end of the line of customers, Kate eyed the various pastries under glass at the counter. Now that she had lost the baby weight, thanks to her daily walks, her biggest challenge was trying not to splurge on sweets, which would only put the weight right back on.
The line inched along and by the time it was her turn to step up to the counter and order, she knew exactly what she wanted.
“What can I get ya, Kate?” asked Molly, thrusting her hip out and planting her fist on her waist.
“A bran muffin,” she said, pointing out the particular one she wanted, “a small decaf coffee, and also a large green tea.”
“You got it,” said Molly, turning for the pastries. After setting the muffin on a plate, she poured the coffee and the tea and organized the items on a plastic tray so it would be easy to carry.
Kate handed her the exact change as soon as Molly had told her the cost, and she started through the coffee shop. After setting her tray on a vacant table near the windows, she doubled-back with her decaf coffee, placed it on the condiment station, and began doctoring it with cream and sugar. Senseless calories, she was well aware, but she had to do something to improve its taste. Decaf was a far cry from the real thing.
As soon as she settled into her chair, Carly breezed into the coffee shop, scanned the faces, and waved at Kate. She held up an I’ll be there in a sec finger, stepped up to the counter, and asked Molly for a large coffee and a cinnamon raisin bagel with strawberry cream cheese.
Moments later, Carly sat across from Kate and asked, “Did you hear about Over the Moon?”
Kate furrowed her brow because she hadn’t, not beyond the scandal of the inn’s owner, Amelia Langley, being arrested two months back. She’d been charged for soliciting murder in order to promote her uncouth bus tour that made stops at every location where someone had been killed in Rock Ridge.
“No,” said Kate. “What about it?”
“Well, Lance doesn’t want to keep it running with Amelia in prison,” she explained. “I can’t blame him. Anyway, he’s decided to level the place.”
“Level it? He’s going to tear it down?”
“Apparently.”
“Why not sell it?”
Carly opened her bagel and used a plastic knife to spread the cream cheese. “That’s what I would do. Knocking the inn down seems senseless, but word on the street is that he wants to build a nursery.”
“For children?” she asked, stunned.
“No! Oh sorry. Of course you would think for children. No, for flowers.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. He’s putting up a greenhouse and planting all kinds of flowers in the back yard. He has five acres, you know. That’s a lot of land to grow flowers.”
As Carly went on in great detail about the many plans Lance had, Kate began to feel terrible for her friend. Sunshine Florist had its ups and downs. In the summertime, Carly’s flower shop did fairly well, but it tended to wane badly during the long winter months. If she suddenly had competition, she could easily go under.
“What are you going to do?” asked Kate.
“What can I do?” She drank her coffee and added, “Fantasizing about burning it to the ground certainly isn’t healthy.”
“No, I should say not.”
“Larry thinks I should go into business with him,” she said, shrugging. “Not that Lance needs my help.”
“Why would Larry suggest that?” she asked, wondering where Carly’s husband’s loyalties lie.
“He’s looking out for me,” she explained. “The idea is that if I can sell Lance’s flowers, and offer to be his exclusive distributor, then Lance won’t open his own flower shop right there at the nursery. I’m telling you, Kate, if he opens his own shop, I’m done for.”
“But your location is much better. You’re right here in the heart of Rock Ridge, and the inn is way out in the rural end.”
“But think about it,” she said, leaning over the table. “Lance is creating a whole shopping experience. His customers can wander around the rose bushes outside. They can go into the greenhouse and see orchids in bloom. They can literally pick out which flowers they want. I can’t do any of that. And the fact of the matter is that I order my flowers from a wholesaler anyway. I might as well get them from Lance.”
Her friend had a solid point, but Kate didn’t like the idea. Though Lance had never been a criminal or killer like his wife and daughter, both of which were currently in prison, Lance had been in his fair share of trouble. Years back when a drug ring had nearly swallowed this town, he had been strong-armed into allowing the kingpins to store boxes full of their drugs at his mustard factory warehouse. He was easily taken advantage of and didn’t have the good sense to recognize that both Amelia and Becky were hardened criminals, which told Kate that the man attracted those types. She did not want her best friend getting wrapped up in any nonsense.
“I don’t know, Carly...”
“The Langley’s have tons of money, old money and new money...mustard money. If I propose this arrangement, I’m not going to have slow winters. It’ll be steady income year round.”
“That’s not necessarily true. Don’t forget that the customers are the residents and things slow down for everyone around town during the winter. That’s just how it goes.”
“But Lance has a lot of experience packing and shipping. He could help me get my website in tip-top shape. We could have customers all over the country.”
“Unless he offered to help in that department, I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Why are you being negative?” she asked, shifting her tone, which took Kate aback. “I’m trying to get excited about this.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound negative. I thought you were apprehensive as well.”
“I am.” She sighed and set her bagel down as though she had lost her appetite. “I’m just trying to see a silver lining here.”
“Then you should talk to Lance. See if he’s up for it. Really, I didn’t mean to be negative. It could be a great business venture.”
C
arly lifted her coffee mug to her mouth and drank. When she set it down again, she asked, “You off today?”
“I finished Sandra Conway’s roof.”
“That crazy woman,” she mused. “What is it about Rock Ridge and killers, I’d like to know.”
Kate winced, and when Carly asked her what the face was all about, she explained, “I’m having my doubts.”
“Kate,” she said in a leveling tone. “You’re the one that discovered Sandra was the murderer.”
“How do you know that already?”
“How could I not? People talk, you know that.”
“I’ve been having the strangest feeling that Sandra was set up.”
“Framed?”
“If she drove a red Ford Thunderbird, I wouldn’t think twice. It’s the one detail that doesn’t add up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s true that Sandra left the house in perfect timing with Nathan Robillard being killed,” she began, leaning in and speaking quietly so none of the other customers would overhear. “But at the same time, this red car drove up to the Robillard’s house. It was coming from the opposite direction. It stopped in front of the house and I never saw the driver get out because the angle was bad, but minutes later the killer was on the roof. I know that Sandra and Nathan knew each other personally, so now I’m thinking that the real killer also knows Sandra and took advantage of her, framed her.”
Carly drew in a deep breath as if processing an overload of information.
“The worst part,” Kate went on, “is that Scott has obviously stopped investigating since he thinks he arrested the killer.”
“So you’re going to have to do it?”
“Why do you sound so skeptical?”
“I’m not skeptical. I’m sure you’ll hunt around, but wouldn’t you rather spend time with Josie?”
“Of course I would,” she snapped. “And I will. I’m giving myself today to look into things.”
They stared at each other and an unspoken conversation ensued. Kate couldn’t remember the last time they had ruffled each other’s feathers within the same conversation. She decided the heat was to blame. No one was in a good mood when they were sweating constantly.
“Have you seen a red Ford Thunderbird around town?” she asked.
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 125
