“How do I know?” He grumbled off, probably to his wife.
“Can you send someone over? I’ve got a group of women here. I’m concerned for their safety.”
“We don’t run a private security firm, Cora. I don’t have the resources to send you protection,” he said.
She appreciated the truth to that statement, but she couldn’t help but ask.
“Wait,” Jane said. “If I were Jo, I wouldn’t come here at all. She’d want to be keeping her whereabouts a secret.”
“But why is she back here if not to settle something?” Cora said.
“Good point,” Brodsky said. “But what beef would she have with any of you?”
“Ruby is the only person who even knew of her family. She doesn’t have any other connection to any of our guests that I know of,” Cora said.
“And Ruby can protect herself,” Brodsky muttered.
Jane smiled at Cora with reassurance.
Brodsky blew out air into the phone. “I can step up the patrols that go by your place,” he said. “That’s about all I can do. Right now, I’ve got to change our search tactics. Damn, this doesn’t look good.”
After they had hung up from Brodsky, Cora and Jane sat a few minutes on the floor, both stroking Luna, lapping up the attention.
“Were we deluding ourselves to think we could lead quiet lives in the mountains of North Carolina?” Jane asked. “We wanted to get away from all this, to focus on crafts, helping other women, our art.”
“Small towns are no better than the major cities,” Cora said. “We just need to be more vigilant.”
“How? Do we run background checks on all of our guests?”
“Hate that idea. Since we’re all staying here together for days, maybe it’s something we should check into.”
“It feels wrong,” Jane said. “But I have a daughter to protect. Thank God she’s not here this weekend. I think we should run background checks on the guests next time.”
“I’m feeling a little like Big Brother, even considering it,” Cora said.
“I hear ya,” Jane said, standing. “We better get going. Our guests will wonder about us.”
“Speaking of our guests. I guess it’s better to keep this bit of news to ourselves?”
Jane nodded. “I can’t think of a good reason to tell them.”
Chapter 53
All the crafters were up and eating breakfast. A thread of excitement hung in the air. They had one more day, a party, and then would be returning home to their beloved families.
Today was the kind of a day Cora looked forward to, a craft-in day, wherein all the retreaters could just work on finishing up their projects or work on another craft, or read a book, or stare into space. It was all about companionship. Unscheduled.
Cora and Jane had scheduled a manicurist to come by that afternoon, as well, as a surprise for the moms who probably hadn’t had a manicure in years—if ever. Cora herself rarely allowed herself the treat.
Cora walked into the dining room, and in on a conversation Vera was having over the phone.
“I know, Elizabeth. I miss you, too, sweetie. Are you having fun with Granny and Pap?”
Granny and Pap would be Jon and Beatrice. It was hard to think of them that way—they were so youthful in spirit. Jon was Cora’s grandfather’s brother, and he was a major investor in the craft retreat. He and Bea had visited during the first one, amidst a sea of trouble. Another murder in town. She had been trying not to think about the rough edges of the sweet little town of Indigo Gap. At least in Pittsburgh, she was more aware, and half expected crime. Here, it always threw her. She tucked away the feeling of being safer here than in Pittsburgh.
Cora moved to the dining room and headed for the kitchen. One of these days, she hoped to renovate. The kitchen needed a lot of work. Her dreams included baking and food crafting classes. When the retreat started to make a profit, they intended to sink some money into the tiny workhorse of a kitchen. She poured herself coffee and reached for a plate. Croissant and fruit, yes, please.
“Cora, this has been so much fun,” Lena said as she walked up to the kitchen counter. “I think it’s been one of the best retreats, ever.”
Cora’s shock must have played out on her face. “What?”
“I know,” she said, and lowered her voice, “that it wasn’t perfect, with all the drama. Friendships have been forged. And hey, nobody can say it was boring.”
Cora managed a smile. “True.” And you have no idea. Jo is still out there. Somewhere in Indigo Gap. Cora hoped it wouldn’t get even more dramatic. She wanted the last day to be relaxing, not marred by Jo showing up.
She bit into a croissant. Heaven. She’d gotten them from a new bakery in town. They were almost as good as the ones she had in France as a child. Everything seemed better then. She wondered if it truly was all better or if her memories of France were so warm and sweet because of her grandparents. The croissants were just a part of all her perfect Paris memories. To this day, she recalled the scent of the lilacs in Great-Aunt Genevieve’s garden.
The memory of lilacs brought her back to floral arrangements and Cora reminded herself to call on Zee again. She’d never returned her call, which was unlike her. She was probably busy cleaning up the mess that Lulu made.
“Hey, Lena,” Annie said, walking up to them. “I have a question about this knot. Can you help me out?”
“Absolutely,” Lena said.
“Excuse me. Have fun,” Cora said, and moved into the living room, where crafters held plates of food and chatted. Roni sat in a chair and knitted.
“How are you?” Cora asked.
“I’m fine. I’ve been up awhile, went for a walk, ate,” she said, glancing up at Cora through her glasses.
“That’s beautiful yarn,” Cora said.
“I’ve become quite the yarn snob,” she said. “This yarn is superb. It has bits of handmade paper and silk in it. See?”
“Breathtaking,” Cora said, and then sipped coffee. The elixir of her life.
“Someone was telling me about a yarn shop in town ... was it ... yes! It was Jo, I think,” she said.
Cora’s breath hitched at the mention of Jo. “Yes, you should check it out before you leave town. It’s a great little place, brimming with all sorts of yarn. I’m not much into knitting or crocheting, but sometimes I go in there just to be surrounded by all of the yarn.”
Don’t think about Jo. Think of that sweet little yarn shop.
“I just can’t believe that Jo killed Stan. There must be some other explanation,” Roni said. “All I know is he was a lot tougher than I gave him credit for. I could have sworn he was dead when I left him in the alley. Thank God he wasn’t. I don’t think I could have lived with myself.”
Cora ate her croissant, chewing, and nodding. Poor Roni, she was still working through all of this. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
“Ah!” Roni said. “I’m fine. It was just one of those things.” She paused. “A scare. That’s what it was.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Cora said.
“I’ve asked myself that question. I think I was in a kind of shock, you know? I just needed to get through this retreat and get home. That’s all I kept thinking. I kept imagining my kids growing up without a mother. The shame they would all have. And I’d stop myself, put on a happy face, and craft.”
It did sound like shock, but also could be, well, something like sociopathic behavior. Cora was glad Roni was leaving straight after the party tonight. Some of the other crafters were departing in the morning. She’d gotten weird vibes from Roni from the start and couldn’t wait for her to leave. A pang of guilt and shame waved through Cora. She was a customer. And she’d been through a traumatic experience. Cora needed to empathize, not criticize.
She dug deep down to try to feel better about Roni, but she failed. She just couldn’t find a way to like this woman.
Chapter 54
“I’m so impressed
with those flowers,” Vera said. “Your friend Zee is talented.”
“She is,” Cora said. Thinking of Zee, she wondered again why she’d not returned her call. It was unlike her to not get back with her right away. She realized she was busy. But still.
“She’s more talented than what we even knew,” Jane said. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell us she won a few Grammys.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Ruby said as she entered the room. “She was famous in jazz circles. Not my cup of tea, you see, so I had no idea. It’s always fascinating . . . the way you can be famous within a particular group and yet the average person doesn’t know who you are.”
Cora had made the same observation—but mostly with crafters, like Jude Sawyer, the rock star broom maker who taught at her first retreat. Crafters swooned over him. She wasn’t sure other women would give him the time of day. She also remembered Marcy, the woman who died at Sea Glass Island. She was a mermaid scholar. Who knew such scholars existed? Yet, she was quite well-known in scholarly circles.
“They were all something a few years back,” Ruby went on. “They were the upper crust of Indigo Gap if you could believe it. Zee and her husband, Stan and his woman of the hour, and several others. They traveled together, partied together. Just generally hung out together.”
“What about you?” Vera asked.
“Oh, back then,” Ruby said with a faraway expression, “I was a single mom, you see. And now it’s not as unusual as it was then. Besides, I didn’t have the money to party—even if I was so inclined. I preferred to stay home with my flowers and herbs and my son, Cashel.”
“I hear you,” Annie said. “Though I’m glad I found a group of scrapbookers to hang out with.”
“We’re happy that you found us, too,” Vera said. “We’re nothing like what Ruby’s talking about. We sit around and share about our families and gossip while we scrapbook.”
“We also have been known to drink a bit here and there,” Annie said.
“Friendship is important,” Ruby said. “Don’t misunderstand me. I had several excellent friends then. But we were all in the same boat. Single moms. No money.”
“I was a single mom for a while,” Vera said, and drank from her coffee. “It was the hardest thing ever.”
Cora didn’t know that. But then again, she was just starting to get to know Beatrice’s side of the family.
“We need to talk about that sometime,” Jane said, and smiled.
Cora walked into the living room, where a handbag sat on the table. It struck her as odd because most of her guests kept their purse in their rooms. But it looked familiar. She picked it up. “Whose bag is this?”
Roni and some of the others who were sitting there didn’t know. Nobody seemed to know.
Cora peeked inside. There was a wallet. She opened it to find Zee’s smiling face plastered on the front of the driver’s license.
“Oh dear,” Cora said. “Zee left her handbag here.” Her cell phone was tucked inside, switched to silent. Why hadn’t Zee come looking for this? Was she so busy cleaning up after Lulu’s attempt at managing the B&B that she didn’t realize her purse and cell phone were missing? No wonder she hadn’t returned her call. Just what was going on with her?
Cora felt a surge of panic. Poor Zee must have been more traumatized by her jail time than what Cora imagined. Pangs of worry and fear zoomed through her. She needed to find out if Zee was okay.
“Where are you off to?” Jane said.
“I’m going to return Zee’s bag. It’s been here, I guess, since yesterday,” Cora said.
“Strange,” Jane said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Cora said as she opened the door. “I might be a little while,” she said, her voice lowered. “I wonder if she’s okay. She might need to talk. I’ll try not to be gone too long.”
Jane nodded. “Not much going on here today, as you know. I know you want to spend more time with these women. And the manicurists will be here soon.”
“I’ll be back by then,” Cora said.
Cora walked down the sidewalk to the Blue Note, Zee’s B&B. It was only a few blocks from Kildare House. The fog was just lifting from the surrounding mountains as the sun burned through. The town of Indigo Gap spread out before her—Kildare House had been built on top of a hill and looked out over the valley town. The family who built the house owned a great deal of property and were lumber tycoons. At one point in time, most of the other residents of the town worked for the lumber operation.
As she walked toward the Blue Note, she remembered the first time she met Zee. She and Jane had been seeking information on a local, and Zee took her aside and warned her that he was a “cad.” The memory prompted a smile.
As she approached the Blue Note, she noted something off. But what was it? It was still, dark, and quiet. Zee was usually “up with the chickens,” as she often said.
She didn’t want to awaken her, but at the same time, Zee needed her purse. And it was hard to believe she wasn’t already awake. Maybe she was relaxing into the day? It was Sunday after all.
She opened the gate, its creaky sound interrupted an otherwise quiet morning.
Cora walked down the flagstone path and up the front porch stairs and knocked on the door.
“Yoo-hoo! Zee!” No answer.
She knocked louder. After all, she had the woman’s handbag, with all of her important things inside, credit cards, license, cell phone. She briefly wondered about leaving the bag hanging from the doorknob.
She was afraid if she left it, it may get stolen. Even in Indigo Gap, it might be too tempting for a passerby.
She turned the doorknob, thinking she’d just leave the bag hanging on the inside doorknob, without actually going inside. She reached for the doorknob and wrapped the bag around it. But something touched her. A hand? An arm? What?
Something wrapped around her hand and yanked her inside. Hard. So hard that it knocked Cora off balance and she fell into the house, landing facedown on the hardwood floor. Stunned by the fall, when she turned around and tried to stand, confused, she glimpsed Jo, standing with her hands on her hips, lifting her arm, before everything went black.
Chapter 55
Cora’s eyelids felt heavy, and her head and shoulders ached. Was she dreaming? She lifted her eyelids with a struggle and looked straight into Jo’s cold eyes.
“Jo? Wha—” Cora started to say before Jo clamped her hand across Cora’s mouth.
“Be quiet,” Jo said. Her voice was the same soft voice but now edged in menace, unfeeling, cold. Cora nodded, as her heart quickened. Racing.
When Jo pulled her hand away, Cora sucked in air, closed her eyes, and concentrated on a breathing exercise. In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three. She tried to tamp down the panic she felt creeping into her. She swallowed hard. No panic attacks. Remain as calm as possible. Your nervous breakdown can happen afterward. Now she willed herself to calm.
She opened her eyes, and since Jo had moved away from her view, she could now see that Zee was sitting on the couch next to Lulu—both of them had their arms and feet tied and tape across their mouths. Both of them were slumped over in odd positions, not conscious.
Cora batted her eyes into seeing clearly. Were they dead? She sucked in air.
Jo paced around the room, the front room, so beautifully appointed. She placed her hands on the baby grand piano, running them along its smooth edges, then commenced pacing.
The room was stale, and Cora caught whiffs of a foul stench.
She struggled to put some thoughts together. Evidently, Lulu and Zee had been in this room all night. So maybe they had been here since yesterday. What was Jo hoping to accomplish? If she had meant to kill them, then they were certainly already dead. So, why was Jo still here?
She must want something. But what?
She’d killed Stan, evidently, and now was holding the sisters hostage, along with her. What did she want?
Cora tried to remember her classes on what to do if s
omeone took you as hostage. Was it to not talk? Or to keep them talking? If only she could remember.
Jo stopped at the piano again and sat on the bench. Her fingers plucked out a song, tentatively. Then more forcefully, a haunting, lovely melody Cora couldn’t place. She shivered.
Zee’s body shifted as if she were waking up. Well, at least that signaled that Zee was still alive. Lulu remained still.
Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out, one, two, three.
Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out, one, two, three.
Cora’s heart beat slowed.
She remembered then the best thing to do when taken hostage was to keep calm, keep them calm, and try to engage them in conversation, something that allowed them to express themselves, feel like they were heard.
As Jo finished the tune, Cora cleared her throat.
“So lovely,” she said.
She smiled a half smile as she looked up at Cora. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
“I just came to give Zee back her handbag,” Cora said, nodding to the door, where she assumed the bag still hung on the knob.
“Ah, I see,” Jo said. Her voice was still kind and calm. As Cora knew she had killed Stan and held Zee and Lulu hostage, the soft, serene measure of Jo’s voice frightened her.
“What is going on here?” Cora said. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s my beef with those two, do you mean?”
Cora nodded. Jo walked toward her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” she said. “You messed everything up. You and your helpful ways. Showing up.”
“What are you trying to do?” Cora said, her voice trembling a bit.
“At first, I just wanted to scare them,” she said. “But then, then, I saw how easy it was, you see. Now I can do anything I’d like to them. After all these years.”
Cora’s shoulders ached from the clumsy way Jo had tied her arms behind her back when she had passed out, making it difficult to suck in all the air she needed.
“How long have you known them?”
“We grew up together,” she said. “I’ve known them my whole life, ya see.”
Assault and Beadery Page 21
