Which is exactly what she was doing with Zee. Still, maybe Detective Brodsky was right. Maybe they should leave it all to the police. After all, they had a retreat to run. A house full of moms away for the weekend. Her mood lifted. Up until she opened the front door.
Chapter 24
Music blared, and the place was a mess. Dirty glasses and plates sat scattered about the front room. Jane and Cora could hardly believe their eyes. Wasn’t this a group of women? Women who were mothers? Why were they such a mess?
“No, hold on!” Ruby said with a loud voice. “I think you’ve had enough booze!” Cora walked into the room, just as Ruby was grabbing a glass from Lisa, who was quite drunk. In fact, as Cora looked around, she observed most of the women were drunk, or on their way.
Ruby looked up at Cora and Jane and smacked her own head. “I lost track of how much booze they had. Sorry!”
“I’ll make some coffee,” Jane said, as she picked up some empty glasses and plates and carried them into the kitchen.
“Are you okay, Vicki?” Cora said, sitting next to her.
Vicki swayed on the couch. “I think so,” she slurred.
Cora was in shock at the shape of the crafters and the house.
“I haven’t drunk this much in a while. I think I overdid it,” Vicki said. “It’s not good. I can get, I dunno, kinda violent.” Then she giggled, which unnerved Cora, given her statement about women killers earlier.
“Jane’s making coffee.”
Cora stood to help remove some of the dishes. One of the guests was crumpled into a ball on a chair in the corner and moaned. It was Vera. Passed out? Napping?
Just then, Annie came down the stairs. “Yoo-hoo! Where is everybody?”
“In here,” Cora called.
When Annie entered the room and observed the situation, her face fell in confusion.
“I’m afraid they’ve all had a little too much,” Cora explained.
“Booze? You mean they’re drunk?”
Cora nodded.
“Can I turn that music down?” Annie asked.
“Please do,” Cora said, and turned back to Vicki. “What were you thinking?”
“I guess I was just thinking, ‘Wow, these drinks are good. Let me have another one . . .’” Vicki said, and giggled.
“We haven’t been gone that long,” Cora said. “You all must have had a lot in a short time.”
“I’d say that’s exactly what happened.” Annie poked Vera. “What are you doing? I ought to call Beatrice!” Annie said.
“What?” Vera said, sitting up. “Mama?”
It was then that it dawned on Cora that Vera was Bea’s daughter. Bea, who was married to her great-uncle Jon, one of the investors of the retreat.
“You’re Bea’s daughter?”
Vera nodded as she swatted at Annie, who was still poking at her.
“I’m Jon’s niece, so I guess we’re kind of related,” Cora said.
“I knew that. I just neglected to tell you,” Vera said. “I was waiting for the right time.”
“What would your mother think of you, lying there all drunk?” Annie teased.
Vera’s arms flailed. “Ain’t like she’s never seen me tipsy before. But I do think she’d be a bit embarrassed. I apologize, Cora. I didn’t realize how much I had.”
“I should have stayed,” Annie said. “You had quite a party.”
“Well, you needed your power nap,” Vera said with bite. “You always miss all the fun. You’re like a little old woman sometimes, I swear.”
“Coffee!” Jane walked in with a tray of several cups of coffee, sugar, and creamer.
“Lawd, that coffee smells good,” Vera said.
Jane served everyone who was in the room—Lisa, Vicki, Vera, Jo, Lena, and Roni.
Ruby came back into the room with a huge mug of coffee for herself.
“I was just looking over your Bloody Mary recipe, and it seems as if I might have doubled the booze. I misread the directions,” Ruby said. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” Lisa said. “I haven’t had this much fun in years. Drunk or not.” She paused. “Sometimes I long for the days when I didn’t have to be an example for my children. You know, I could curse, drink, dance naked in the house!”
Cora breathed a little deeper. Even though she hadn’t planned any of this, it appeared to be exactly what this group of women needed. Leave it to Ruby to misread the recipe. The woman was always losing her glasses. When Cora suggested she hang them around her neck, she refused, saying it would make her resemble some dowdy old fool.
“In that case,” Ruby said. “I’m glad I made the mistake.”
Jane held up a bag of half-eaten potato chips. “Really, ladies?”
“Hey,” Vera said. “Please give that to me. I wondered where they went. Lisa took them, and I never saw them again.”
Lisa laughed. “You fell asleep. Um, or passed out. I didn’t take the damned potato chips.”
Cora was pleased because of the burgeoning friendships being forged. This is exactly the kind of relaxing atmosphere Jane and Cora hoped to create at their retreats—without the booze and the mess.
“I’ll help you clean up,” Annie said. “These ladies are in no shape.”
Annie, Jane, Cora, and Ruby went to work.
Cora moved into the kitchen and grabbed a large trash bag. When she filled it with all the trash scattered around, she figured that since half of the bag was empty, she’d go around to the rooms and empty individual trash cans. When Cora finished, the bag was significantly heavier. She lifted it as she went downstairs, not wanting it to drag on the steps and tear. She heaved it into the kitchen and fluffed it about, evening it out, before tying the bag.
Something dark red flashed at her in the mess of trash. Cora reached in and pulled out a crusty, dried scarf. What the hell?
Adrenaline popped through her. Was that blood? A bloody scarf? In the trash at Kildare House?
She sorted through the guests in her mind ... did anybody have any wounds? She couldn’t think of anything.
She heard footsteps and opened a cupboard to stick the scarf inside. Think, think, think.
Cora envisioned the bloody trash bag in the alley. The scent was more than fresh in her memory, lodged in her mind.
“What’s wrong?” Jane said.
Thank goodness it was Jane.
Cora tied the trash bag. “Can you take this out? Then meet me at my apartment in fifteen minutes?”
Jane nodded. “Sure thing. Are you okay?”
“For now, but I’m not sure about later,” Cora replied.
Chapter 25
Cora tucked the blood-encrusted scarf under her arm and made her way upstairs to her attic apartment. When she opened the door, Luna greeted her with a meow and circled her legs. “Hello, sweet Luna.”
She reached into a cupboard and pulled out a small trash bag, and then pulled out the scarf. She set it on the plastic trash bag.
Her chest squeezed. She walked into the living room area of her apartment and then walked back. Pacing, breathing. She reached for her prayer beads and held them in her hand as she walked and concentrated on her breathing.
Jane opened her door in a flurry. “God, Cora, what’s wrong? The class is about to start. I think everybody’s almost sober.”
Cora’s fingers were busy feeling the smooth beads in her hand, but she nodded in the direction of her kitchen table. “I found that when I was cleaning. It was in someone’s trash. I don’t know whose.”
Jane marched over to it. “Is that a bloody scarf ?”
“Think, Jane. Are any of the guests sporting a bandage or do any of them have bruises or cuts?” Her voice was shaking.
Jane shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“No, I didn’t think so either,” Cora said and inhaled deeply. “So what is this?”
Jane’s face fell. “I think of blood, and I think of that bloody trash bag in the alley. Is th
at what you’re thinking?”
Cora bit her lip. “Is it crazy? Either Stan’s attacker slipped in here to dispose of this scarf or . . .”
“Or one of our guests is involved somehow,” Jane finished.
“That’s crazy, right? There are a million other possibilities,” Cora said.
“Name one.”
“Well, someone could be hurt, and we just don’t know it,” Cora said, stammering.
“That’s a possibility,” Jane said. “We need to call Brodsky.”
“Brodsky! Yes!” Cora said. Why didn’t she think of that sooner?
She dialed Brodsky.
Jane’s phone beeped at the same time Cora was dialing. “It’s Ruby, wondering what’s going on.”
“Tell her to hold the fort down. Something’s come up,” Cora said.
“Brodsky,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.
“It’s Cora,” she said. “Listen, I found something in the trash as I was cleaning up.”
“And?” He sounded amused.
“A very bloody scarf,” she replied.
“I’ll be right over,” he said.
After a few seconds of silence, Jane cleared her throat. “So, what now?”
“We wait. I suppose you can go to the polymer clay bead class. I can take it from here.”
“I don’t know if I can leave you. Are you okay?”
“I am. I really am. I thought I was going to panic, but I didn’t. I paced. I held the beads in my hand.” She paused. “The beads helped.”
“Just the same, I think I’ll stay with you until Brodsky gets here,” Jane said, walking over to the sink. “Let’s have some water.” She filled glasses and handed Cora one.
Jane and Cora each took their glasses of water into the living room area of the apartment.
As she drank, Cora calmed, feeling as if she could handle any situation. Yes, she could.
“How about those drunk moms?” Jane said, smiling.
“I was thinking about that. They’re just bonding and having fun.”
“Bit of a mess, though,” Jane said, grimacing.
“You’re a neat freak,” Cora said.
Just then, a knock sounded at her door. She stood and walked over, then opened the door to Detective Brodsky and his partner.
“Hello, ladies,” Brodsky said.
“Come on in,” Cora said, pointing to her table where the bloody scarf lay.
Brodsky cocked an eyebrow. “How did this happen?”
When Cora was done filling him in, he said, “I’m glad you called. Ordinarily, a bloody scarf would not be suspect, but since we’re investigating a murder we have to check into everything out of order. So what I’m going to do is take the scarf and see if I can get the lab to check it out as a rush job.”
“Okay,” Cora said, dreading her next question, but knowing she had to ask. “Then what? If it matches Stan’s blood, then what?”
“Then we have to start questioning your guests. I’m sorry.”
Sweat pricked at her forehead. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Surely, none of these women killed Stan,” Jane said. “Most of them weren’t even in town yet.”
“Not that you know of, anyway,” Brodsky said, placing the scarf into an evidence bag.
Cora chilled.
“What do we do in the meantime?” she asked.
“In the meantime, I need you to pretend as if you never saw this scarf,” he said. “Go back to the retreat, as if nothing is wrong.”
Cora and Jane exchanged nods. We can do this.
“Don’t tell anybody else, not even Ruby O’Malley,” he said. “Not yet. The fewer people that know about this, the better.”
“I’m not sure we can keep this from her. I guess we can try,” Cora replied.
“Wait a minute,” Jane said. “We might have a killer here. Are we in danger? Are our guests? Shouldn’t we tell them?”
“Not if you want to help find the guilty party,” he said. “If the killer is here, that means your friend Zee is off the hook. Right?”
Cora warmed at that thought.
Jane persisted. “Thank God my London isn’t here this weekend. If there is a killer among us, who’s to say she won’t kill one of us?”
“I don’t think you’re in any danger,” Brodsky said. “All indications of this murder point to a personal attack. Someone had it in for Stan.”
Cora reflected about what they knew. Did any of the guests at her retreat know Stan? All of them were from out of town, which didn’t mean they hadn’t been here before or that they didn’t know Stan. Two of her guests seemed to have a bit of an obsession when it came to women and violence: Vicki and Vera. But Vera was Bea’s daughter. Did that matter? Vicki was a new mom, or at least that’s what she said. Did she know Stan? Had she ever been to Indigo Gap?
“Cora?” Brodsky said. “Yoo-hoo.”
“Yes?” she said.
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something,” he said, and then opened the door. “In the meantime, carry on with the retreat.”
Easy for him to say.
Chapter 26
After Brodsky left, Jane and Cora sat a few moments in silence. One of their guests may have killed Stan Herald. Jane glanced at Cora, who had a thousand-yard stare.
“Are you trying to figure out which of our guests could kill someone?”
Cora lifted her chin. “I suppose I am.”
“If we look at it logically, Roni was the only one who arrived early.”
“Yes, but Lena came along soon after and she was very disheveled,” Cora said. “I was shocked by her appearance.”
They sat a few more moments in silence.
“I know Vera is kind of related to you, but she seems to be enjoying this way too much,” Jane said.
“I noticed,” Cora said. “But knowing her mother like I do, it’s hard to imagine. Vicki seems to have a lot to say about women and murder.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. And there are some real odd birds here,” Jane went on. “Like Jo.”
“Well, you can’t get much odder than us,” Cora said, joking. “We better get back to it.”
Jane and Cora walked into the craft room just as the class was about to get started.
Ruby shot Jane a quizzical glance, but Jane looked away. How could they keep the discovery of the bloody scarf from Ruby, their friend and partner?
“These beads are some of the easiest ones you’re ever going to make. Just to recap, we’ve strung beads to make our meditation or prayer beads. We learned how to make simple knots. In this class, we’ll learn how to make beads of different shapes and sizes, with or without molds. You’ll have your choice. We’ll also make other kinds of knots as we go along,” Lena said.
Jane tried to focus. She understood all about polymer clay and all that you could do with it. She suggested they have this class in the studio. But Cora believed it best to hold it here so that the guests learn how to use their household ovens instead of a fancy kiln.
“You see the clay comes in a variety of colors. Now, you can choose one color and keep it simple or choose two colors to make it a little more interesting,” Lena said. “And speaking of interesting, you can make many things with this clay. I noticed that Cora had some coasters fashioned from it.”
“That’s right,” Cora said. “They were a housewarming gift.”
Jane checked out the tools in front of her—rulers, several different-sized needles, and an X-Acto blade. Which prompted her to think of the very thing she didn’t want to think about—Stan being stabbed to death. Blood. Ripped flesh. Torn, bloody clothing. She tried to will away the images as she took in the happy, colorful sheets of clay.
Jane chose two colors—chocolate brown and turquoise. She noted the selections of pink. She steered clear of those.
“What a gorgeous color!” Vera said as she reached for a soft pink sheet of clay.
Yes, if Jane were assigning colors to peopl
e, that exact shade of pink would be for Vera, who was feminine and beautiful. Traditional, with a doctor husband and probably one of those small lapdogs. Then Vera chose a surprising color—black. Hmmm, maybe there was more to her than Jane figured at first. The pink and black played off each other well. The combination of colors suggested Vera was extremely creative.
“I have a whole pink and black scrapbook,” Vera said, as Jane examined her clay. “It’s a dramatic color combo, don’t you think?”
Jane nodded. “I do.”
“I like your choice,” Annie said to Jane.
“Thanks,” Jane said. “What do you have there?”
“Blue and white,” Annie said. “I’m into blue and white these days.”
The blue wasn’t just any blue, it was a vibrant cobalt blue. If Jane’s theory about color was correct, Annie was a deep and intelligent person.
She glanced around the room. Is there a killer amongst us? She shivered. She turned back to Annie and Vera, mentally scratching them off her list of potential killers. After all, as she contemplated the situation, she realized they came to the retreat after the murder. They weren’t even in town.
“Decide if you want to make one-colored, simple beads, or two-color, or more,” Lena said. “If you want to make one color, roll up your clay this way. And use your ruler to line things up. Take your blade and cut even chunks, which you will roll into little balls between your palms. Like this.” She showed them how it was done.
“What about the rest of us?” Vera said.
“Hold your horses, Vera,” Annie said.
“The rest of you should place one of your colored clay sheets on top of the other. You roll it like this,” Lena said.
“I think I’m going to stick with the balls,” Roni said, and laughed. “The simpler, the better.”
Lisa agreed.
“C’mon, live a little,” Vicki said to Lisa. “Try something more challenging.”
When did Vicki and Lisa get in? Did they come together? Jane didn’t know—but she assumed they did. She made a mental note to ask Cora. They were from the DC area, weren’t they? Had they ever been here before?
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