Out of the Dying Pan

by Linda Reilly

  The look on Oriana’s face that day still tore at Talia. Heartbroken, there was no other way to put it. It seemed the rabbit was the girl’s only friend in the world. Oriana gave the rabbit back, but only because she’d been caught.

  Talia glanced over at Ria, but the woman was pointedly ignoring her. At least Talia now knew why Ria hated her. But wasn’t the better part of three decades a long time to nurse a childhood grudge?

  “I’ll have two, please,” piped a pimply teenaged girl with a pierced eyebrow, snapping Talia out of her musings. “But I only need one plate.”

  Talia smiled at her. “Coming right up!”

  She battered and fried two chunks of marble cake, swirled extra raspberry sauce over them, and gave the plate to the girl. The teenager shoved five dollars into the can and shuffled away with her cakes. Martha still hadn’t returned, but the donation can was working overtime, doing a jolly job raking in cash for the event. Talia had to hand it to Martha—the can had been a clever idea.

  Still, where was the woman? How long was she going to be gone this time?

  By two thirty it looked as if Martha wasn’t going to return. Talia was torn between annoyance and concern. Had something happened to her? She realized that she didn’t even have Martha’s cell number. In fact, did Martha even own a mobile phone? Talia had never seen her use one.

  Talia snuck a peek over at the standing rack beside Ria’s table. The cornflower blue scarf was still hanging in plain sight, almost as if it was taunting her. Since she didn’t have any customers at the moment, Talia decided to make one last stab at buying it. She sidled over to Ria’s table.

  “Ria,” Talia said softly. “I would really love to buy that scarf. I understand now why you’re mad at me, but that was a long time ago.” A very long time ago, she was tempted to add.

  Ria refused to meet her gaze. Instead, she went over to the rack and snatched the scarf.

  “Thanks,” Talia said gratefully. “Just tell me how much—”

  Ria tossed the scarf around her own neck, tucked it under her hair, and made a loose knot in the front. Without a word, she turned her back on Talia and began packing up whatever vintage jewelry she hadn’t sold.

  Talia blew out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. You hate me. But will you at least tell me where you got the scarf?”

  “Sure,” Ria said, her voice dripping with poison. “When you give me back my ornaments.”

  “I didn’t take your ornaments, Ria.”

  “Liar!” She sent a withering glance at Talia. “Let me tell you something, Ms. Marby. You’ll get this scarf over my dead body.”

  With a shake of her head, Talia slipped back behind her own table. In a way she felt sorry for Ria. It had to be a mental drain to lug around a vendetta for so many years.

  Talia glanced around the gym. The crowd had thinned considerably. Most of the vendors had already shut down early and left, unwilling to wait for three o’clock to roll around.

  It was ten to three when Talia saw Scott Pollard advancing in her direction. He came over and stood, hands fisted on his slender hips, between Talia’s table and Ria’s. “Either of you gals need any help packing things up?” he asked, but his gaze was directed at Talia.

  Talia had barely opened her mouth to speak when Ria blurted out, “Yes, I need help. Start taking those scarves off the tall rack and hand them to me, one at a time. I’ll pack them and you can make a trip to the car with me. You can carry both racks.”

  Scott’s mouth opened slightly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, with a click of his sneakered heels and a sly wink at Talia. “I’ll be back to help you with that fryer, Talia. Just sit tight, okay?”

  “Will do,” Talia said. “Thanks, Scott.”

  He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and began yanking scarves off the taller rack. Talia half expected Ria to reprimand him about his rough handling of the merchandise, but for once she remained silent.

  Talia turned back to her own tasks. She hadn’t had any customers since the teenager with the pierced eyebrow. She might as well close up shop. She turned off the portable fryer and unplugged it from the power strip, which she then unplugged from the wall. While the vegetable oil cooled, she shoved her other supplies into the cardboard box she’d carried them in.

  Looking around, she saw that the room had pretty much emptied out. Ria and Scott were already headed for the rear exit, Scott toting a display rack in each of his hands.

  Talia continued packing up her supplies. Martha could’ve helped a lot if she hadn’t vanished. What was it with that woman?

  Minutes later, Ria stormed back to her table, Andy Nash trailing in her wake. Andy’s Santa hat was gone, revealing a balding scalp and a wide forehead.

  “We had a date,” he said hotly. “I was looking forward to it. It was really mean of you to cancel.”

  Ria’s face was milky pale, and her gaze was jumpy. “It wasn’t a date, it was only a drink,” she said testily, “and I only agreed to it so you’d stop bugging me. We’ll do it another time, okay?”

  Andy pouted, and in a childish gesture stuck out his lower lip. “Promise?”

  Ria placed both hands over her face and shook her head slightly. “Yes, I promise. Now please, just go away.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Sensing that he was about to create a scene, Talia waved her arm at him. “Um, Andy? Do you know if they held the raffle yet?”

  He glared at Talia for a moment, but then his face relaxed. “Yeah, we did. Didn’t you hear the announcement?”

  Actually, she had, but she decided to play Dora the Dunce. She gave him a disarming smile. “I heard something come over the loud speaker, but I guess I didn’t pay much attention. Dopey me.”

  “It was at least an hour ago,” he said crossly. “I thought everybody heard it.”

  Andy started to turn back to Ria when a scrawny, sixtyish woman in a worn ski jacket scooted around him and stepped directly in his path. The woman went over to Ria’s table. “Hey,” she said, without much interest. “You sell much?”

  Ria pouted. “Yes, and I thought you were going to be here to help. Bad enough Kelsey bailed on me. You couldn’t even be bothered to show up.”

  The woman shrugged. “Sorry, honey. Got talking to Ralphie after my shift ended, and we decided to grab a beer at the diner.”

  “You’re always sorry.” Ria grabbed the woman’s arm. “Mom, listen to me. I saw the dragon today.”

  The woman’s lined face stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

  “The dragon,” Ria repeated in a brittle voice. “I saw it today. The dragon is back.”

  The woman jabbed a yellowed fingernail at Ria. “Now you listen to me, Ria. I had enough of that dragon crap when you were a kid, so don’t even go there, okay? I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but your drama queen act isn’t going to work on me anymore. Can it, or I’ll do it for you.” She pulled her arm roughly out of Ria’s grasp.

  Ria stuttered backward as if she’d been slapped. For a moment Talia thought she might burst into tears. Andy, who’d been watching the interchange with an odd expression, spun on his Santa boot and scurried off.

  Talia snapped the covers onto her food containers. The woman was obviously Ria’s mother, but what was the dragon? Talia glanced over at Ria, and immediately felt sorry for her. Whatever her “dragon” issue was about, she clearly didn’t have a sympathetic mom.

  Ria’s mother twitched her hands nervously, and she ran her bony fingers through her head of dishwater blond frizz. “You need help getting the rest of this junk in the car?” she said, a touch of apology in her tone.

  Ria shook her head.

  “Great. Then I’m leaving. You eating home tonight?”

  Again, Ria shook her head.

  “Okay, well, good, ’cuz Ralphie and me might go see a movie at the mall in Lanesboro.”

  “What about Princess?” Ria sniped. “You’re leaving her alone again?”

  “Princess?” Her mother ga
wked at her. “It’s a cat, for criminy’s sake. She’s fine on her own. Besides, you’re the one who brought her home. Who said I wanted a cat anyway?”

  Ria gathered up her velvet runner, including a few stray brooches, and stuffed the whole thing inside her suitcase. Her mother shot a nervous smile at Talia, as if she’d just realized that their squabble hadn’t exactly been private.

  Ria’s mother softened her tone. “I’ll make sure she has plenty of food and water before I go, okay? I s’ppose you have plans.”

  “Yes, I have plans.”

  “Okay, well, um, I’ll see you later then, honey.”

  The woman hurried off as if her shoes had jet packs. Still wearing the blue scarf, Ria zipped her suitcase with a loud zing. She smacked the wheels on the floor and trounced off, heading in the direction of the exit.

  Talia let out a long breath. A fun adventure, this day was not. At least she’d made a few hundred dollars for the Santa fund. She was happy about that. She continued gathering her supplies, stacking her two covered bowls atop one another. Even with Scott’s help, she’d need to make two trips to her car, so she decided to make the first by herself with the two big bowls.

  Talia reached under the table to collect her purse and jacket, and then groaned. Martha’s peacoat was still there! Argggh. She’d have to fetch it later, when her arms weren’t so loaded.

  By the time she trudged out to her Fiat, she felt as if she’d done two days of hard labor. She stacked the bowls on one side of the back storage area and slammed the hatch shut. She tossed her purse onto her front seat and clicked the locks. Martha’s behemoth vehicle was nowhere in sight, but on her way back inside the building Talia spotted an older-model red Camry. She wondered if it was Ria’s, but then dismissed the thought. Camrys were fairly common, and Ria had seemed pretty anxious to blast out of there after she left.

  Back inside, two volunteers were folding up the abandoned tables and emptying oversized waste cans. The canned music was gone.

  Talia glanced over at Santa’s village. The divider wall was still up, blocking her view of what was behind it. It almost looked as if the wall had been pulled around to keep anyone from seeing beyond it.

  She traipsed over to her table. The oil was now cool enough to transport, so she secured the lid. Luckily, her new portable fryer was pretty much spill-proof. As long as she rested it securely in the back of her Fiat, she should be able to get it home without too much difficulty.

  Talia looked up to see Scott striding toward her, his face slightly red. He grinned when he spotted her, and that’s when she noticed Andy Nash scuttling along in his wake. Andy’s Santa getup was gone, replaced by brown chinos that sagged in the rear and a gray crew-neck sweater.

  Scott rubbed his hands together in a playful fashion and grinned. “Okay, Santa sent his helpers to get you packed up and outta here.”

  Scott hoisted the fryer off the table, and Andy propped the pallets against the wall. Talia grabbed her box stuffed with the remaining marble cake squares, along with the bag of napkins, plates, and forks.

  Andy flashed a lukewarm smile. “What can I carry for you?”

  “My helper ditched me without taking her coat. Can you nab it for me, Andy? It’s under the table. Oh, and if you could take the container of vegetable oil, that would be great.”

  With a halfhearted nod, Andy did as instructed. He grimaced when he tossed Martha’s peacoat over his arm. “Yuck. This lady loves her cigarettes, doesn’t she?”

  Scott wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “Oh, wow, I hear you, man. Once you’ve kicked the habit, nothing smells worse than stale cigarette smoke. I gave ’em up eons ago and never looked back.”

  Their comments made Talia wonder if Martha did smoke in secret. Martha had led her to believe she’d quit a long time ago.

  Talia slipped on her jacket, and the trio trotted out to the parking lot and got everything loaded into the Fiat. “I appreciate your help, both of you,” Talia said. The role of helpless female didn’t suit her at all, but today she was desperate enough to welcome the assistance.

  Scott bowed and flashed a wide grin. “At your service, miss. Anytime you need help, just call on the dynamic duo.” He clapped Andy on the shoulder.

  Andy issued a flat smile. “Always glad to help,” he said without much enthusiasm. “Uh, look, guys, I gotta run. After this little gig, I got a ton of paperwork to do.”

  “Thanks again, Andy,” Talia said. “I’ll drop off a check to you sometime this week, as soon as I figure out what’s in my donation can.”

  Andy hustled back inside the building, while Scott helped Talia secure all her supplies in the back of the Fiat to ensure that nothing would roll around. “There, you’re all set,” he said. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “I’m not sure I want that,” Talia joked. “But thanks for everything, Scott. You’ve been a huge help.”

  Talia started her car, flicked on the heat, and then pulled out of the parking lot at the rear exit. A right turn at the cross street brought her back to the busy main drag. Holiday shoppers clogged the sidewalks, their arms laden with bags. She prayed she’d find enough time to do some shopping herself. The eatery had been keeping her so busy that she didn’t have much downtime anymore.

  She’d driven only a block before she remembered something. Her backup bowl of sweet batter was still in the commercial fridge at the gym. Talia groaned to herself. It wasn’t the batter she was concerned about—it was her covered stainless steel bowl. Not that she thought anyone would steal it, but it would be a pain to have to retrieve tomorrow.

  With a sigh, she made two more right turns and swung back into the community center’s parking lot. Only a few vehicles remained. The red Camry was still there, so it must not be Ria’s. Talia hustled inside, anxious to grab her bowl and head home.

  Without all the chatter and bustle, the building gave her an eerie feeling. When she reached the corridor that led to the gym and to the kitchen, she broke into a near jog. Her Keds made slapping sounds on the linoleum floor. She passed a closed door labeled OFFICE from which the low murmur of a male voice drifted. No doubt it was Andy’s office, since he claimed he had loads of paperwork to do. Talia wondered briefly if he was still trying to contact Ria.

  The kitchen was on the side of the hallway opposite the gymnasium. Fortunately, no one had locked it yet. She pushed through the swinging metal door and went to the fridge. Her batter bowl had gotten pushed back, and she had to relocate several cans of soda to retrieve it.

  On her way out she took one last wistful peek into the gym. It really could have been fun, if Martha hadn’t gone rogue on her, and if Ria hadn’t been so combative.

  All at once she spied a slender figure leaving through the front entrance of the gym. Talia narrowed her gaze and saw that it was Kelsey Dakoulas. Wasn’t it late for her to be hanging around? She was sure she’d seen Kelsey leave the gym around two fifteen, carrying her painting supplies in a carryall.

  Talia was turning to retrace her steps to the rear exit when something else caught her eye. In the area where Santa’s village had been, the faux furnishings sat abandoned. The folding divider had been pushed flat against the gymnasium wall. A swatch of blue peeked out from beneath it. From the texture and color, Talia would have sworn it was Nana’s scarf!

  How could that be? It didn’t make sense.

  She shifted her feet into second gear and hurried over for a closer look. Cornflower blue tassels jutted out from beneath the divider wall. Had Ria tossed the scarf over the divider to get rid of it? Talia bent and set her batter bowl on the floor. She went over to the divider and pushed it to the right. Despite being on wheels, it was not easy to move. After several tries, she managed to shove it far enough over to get a better look at the tassels.

  She was surprised to see that behind the divider was a closet of some sort. When she looked down, her heartbeat spiked. That was definitely Nana’s scarf peeking out from under the door of the closet. She couldn’t mistake those ta
ssels—she’d hand-knotted each one herself!

  Talia turned the knob and opened the door. The inside of the closet was dark, but enough light dribbled in from the gym to illuminate the form slumped at her feet. She squeaked and jumped backward a step. Her legs wobbled and she stared in horror, not wanting to acknowledge the sight that met her eyes.

  A woman lay face up, her face pale and bloated, the blue scarf tied tightly around her neck. Talia could never mistake those lush, ginger-colored curls or those azure eyes.

  Talia turned and stumbled over her batter bowl. And then she screamed like a baby.

  4

  Sergeant Liam O’Donnell sauntered into the interview room at the Wrensdale Police Department, slapped a manila folder on the table, and slung his toned form into a chair. “Ms. Marby, we meet again.”

  Talia blew out a slow breath and rubbed her icy hands together. In her mind she kept seeing Ria’s face, and that scarf— She choked back a sob and said, “Yes, I’m afraid we do, Sergeant. Not by choice, I assure you.”

  A few months earlier Talia had stumbled upon a body in one of the shops in the Wrensdale Arcade. Until today, it had been the worst experience of her life. It was just her luck that the same scary investigator from the Berkshire Detective Unit of the Massachusetts State Police was now working Ria’s murder.

  “You’re aware that you’re being filmed and recorded, correct?”

  Talia nodded. “Correct,” she said softly.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee? A cola?”

  Sure, pump her with caffeine to keep her jittery.

  “No, thank you.” She’d barely kept down the water they gave her when they took her initial statement at the community center.

  “Then let’s start from the beginning,” he said.

  Talia told him everything, from the time she returned to the building for her batter bowl, to the moment she opened the door to the supply closet and discovered Ria’s body.

  “And you didn’t touch anything?” he said sharply.