The mailman’s carefree expression was replaced by a solemn one. “I think I know what you’re referring to. And your aunt told me that your brother was a detective. I suppose you feel a duty to turn what you have over to him.”
“Well, I’ve felt a little conflicted,” Lydia said.
Sunny opened an eye to make sure that her owner was all right, but decided it was safe enough to fall asleep again.
“I’m embarrassed by what I did,” Marky said. “There’s no excuse for it. I did it in a moment of weakness for my daughter, but I knew it was wrong. It’s just that it had been impossible to find the Talk-Back Turtle Tanya close to Christmastime. And it was the only gift she wanted. When that package got caught, and the wrapping tore, and I saw what was inside, I took it. I saw it was insured so the sender would get their money back, but I still stole a gift. I didn’t uphold my pledge to my profession, and I broke federal law.”
“You seem pretty broken up about it,” said Lydia.
“It’s haunted me since last Christmas,” the mailman admitted. “I didn’t know how Miss Cassandra uncovered it. I wondered if she really could communicate with the dead and they saw what I did and thought I should pay. Well, I did pay. I didn’t want to lose my job because I have a family to support. But you must do what your conscience says. I will pay for my crime.”
“I do think you should tell the police but right now, I’m mostly interested in where you were three nights ago.”
Marky thought about it. “I’m home most evenings with my family. That night we made tacos before a ballet recital.”
Lydia asked a few more questions about the dance recital so she could follow up on his alibi and make sure he was really there at the time of Miss Cassandra’s murder. He seemed to understand why she was asking him and looked nervous as he answered her.
Then, Lydia said, “Don’t worry about what Miss Cassandra found out. After all, a psychic’s predictions wouldn’t hold up in court anyway.”
The mailman thanked her and then continued on his route. He seemed relieved but wasn’t back to whistling as he walked away.
Lydia headed back to her porch and teased her dog. “Thanks for all your help.”
Sunny rolled over, staying half-asleep as a response. Then, Lydia’s cell phone began ringing. She saw it was Trina and answered it right away.
“Lydia!” Trina exclaimed excitedly as soon as hello was said. “I found out who the mystery woman is. And I know why she looked so familiar, but I couldn’t recognize her. It’s her sister that I know. Her sister is one of my customers. But the mystery woman in named Brittany Corey.”
“That’s great! Can we go talk to her?”
“Sure. As long as you don’t mind spicy food.”
Lydia pondered what that could mean as Trina assured her that she would head right over to her house so they could set out together.
14
Spicy Food and Suspicions
The restaurant was loud and hot, and their server didn’t look very happy to see them as soon as they started asking questions. Lydia and Trina were seated at a sticky table with Brittany Corey holding an order pad in front of them.
Trina was hungry after working at the salon and had insisted they order their food before they started on their serious questions. However, Lydia equally desired finding out more about Brittany ’s motive for murder and to get out of the unappetizing restaurant.
“What was that?” Brittany asked.
“I just asked if you had seen any psychics lately,” Lydia repeated. “Or any mediums. I think Miss Cassandra preferred to be called a medium.”
“What sort of game are you playing?” Brittany asked, putting a hand on her hip. “What does a psychic have to do with the soup you ordered?”
“We should have waited until the food arrived,” Trina muttered.
“Is this some sort of joke about whether the food is going to make you sick?” asked Brittany. “You want to know the future to see that?”
“I’m not making any jokes,” Lydia said. “I’m taking Miss Cassandra’s murder very seriously.”
“What do you know about that?” asked Brittany.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Trina suggested.
Brittany obeyed but looked very wary as she sat. She glared at the two other women and held her order pad close to her chest.
“We know that Miss Cassandra was blackmailing people,” Lydia said. “And that you were one of them.”
“It’s interesting that you asked us whether we wanted to see the future to determine if the food would make us sick,” said Trina. “Because that was part of your past, wasn’t it?”
“I’m not saying anything,” Brittany said.
“I know your sister from the salon,” Trina continued. “I think she’s a pretty nice person. That’s why I was so shocked to find out that you poisoned everyone at her bridal shower.”
“It was just food poison. Not real poison,” Brittany protested. “And she had it coming. You think she’s a pretty nice person? My parents think she’s perfect. All I hear day in and out is how amazing Bianca is. And I was tired of it. I wanted her to have a less than perfect day. And everyone who adored her too.”
“But she didn’t know that you were the one who put the food poison in the desserts for the shower,” Lydia said. “And you were paying to stop her from finding out.”
“Well, if everyone knew, they wouldn’t think very well of me, would they?” said Brittany. “And Bianca would look even more perfect. The poor sister who was sickened at her bridal shower. And I’d be the villain. But I didn’t do it at her wedding, did I? I thought that showed great restraint.”
“Sure,” Trina said, rolling her eyes.
“And I did it pretty well too,” Brittany said, proudly. Lydia sensed that she had wanted to brag about this but never have gotten the opportunity before. “I put it in the food with the strongest flavor, so no one would notice and think it tasted funny. And I pretended I was sick too. No one saw me throw up, but why would they question it? The party was ruined. It was the perfect prank.”
“Except that Miss Cassandra found out,” Lydia pointed out.
Brittany glowered. “She said that she found out how I got what made them sick in a vision and it led her to hard evidence. I knew half of it was mumbo jumbo, but I had to pay her. I didn’t want what I did to come out.”
“Yeah. I think most people would think that this was more serious than a little prank,” said Trina.
Brittany grumbled. “So, what happens now? Are you guys taking over the blackmail scheme? Did you kill her so you could take over the operation? That’s not a bad idea. I know I’m small fish and don’t have much money to take, but she might know stuff about other people.”
“No. We didn’t kill her,” Trina said.
“We’re trying to figure out who did,” said Lydia. “And we wanted to know where you were the night of the murder.”
“You think I did it?” asked Brittany. “I wouldn’t kill anybody!”
“You had no gripes about poisoning a room full of people,” Trina pointed out.
“That was food poisoning. That’s a whole different thing,” Brittany whined.
“Where were you the night she was killed?” Lydia repeated.
Brittany sighed. “Well, I do remember hearing about when she was killed. And I was a bit relieved, honestly. Miss Cassandra was a jerk. But I didn’t kill her. I was at work that night until about eight. I could have gone out with some coworkers after, but I didn’t. They’re all losers. I went home instead. Alone. Yes. I’m not married like my perfect sister.”
“That’s only a partial alibi,” said Lydia.
“Well, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t go over to see that psychic and do her in.” Brittany tapped her notepad. “So, what happens now? Are you going to blackmail me? Are you going to turn me in?”
“I’ve been trying to avoid turning people’s secrets over to the police,” said Lydia. “But yours is a mor
e serious matter.”
Brittany looked down at the table. She sniffled, and despite her snarky exterior, Lydia thought that she was hurting.
“Tell you what? If you try and make peace with your sister, then we won’t report you,” Lydia said. “I know siblings can have difficulties. My brother almost arrested me once. But siblings are also supposed to be there for one another. I want to hear that you made an effort to repair this relationship.”
“And Bianca comes to my salon, so I’ll know if it happens,” said Trina.
Brittany got to her feet, groaning. “I’d rather just pay the blackmail. But whatever. I’ll do it. At least I’ll try.”
She stalked off towards the kitchen. Lydia considered how good of a suspect she was, but Trina had other matters on her mind.
“Maybe we should eat somewhere else?”
15
More Boxes and Brainstorming
“Coming!” Lydia called as she hurried toward her front door.
After dinner with Trina at a more suitable restaurant where there was little chance they would be poisoned, she had come home and was trying to restore a semblance of order to the boxes she had ransacked while looking for Uncle Edgar’s scrapbooks. She had tried to organize her thoughts on Miss Cassandra’s murder as she repacked the boxes but was still having trouble figuring out who was the most likely suspect.
She reached the door with Sunny at her heels. Since the dog was wagging her tiny tail, Lydia knew it must be someone they knew. She was proved right when she opened the door and saw Leo standing there.
He skipped the pleasantries and got right to business. “Are you investigating the psychic’s murder?”
“No,” Lydia said. But under his sharp glare, she changed her story. “But I might be investigating a medium’s murder.”
He passed through the threshold with a sigh. “You’ve got to stop this. You can’t interfere with police investigations.”
“How did you find out?”
Leo continued inside and sat on her couch so Sunny could join him. He pet the dog as he talked.
“When we spoke to Madame Waverly, she told me that my sister was being nosy. I figured what that meant.”
“I’m glad you spoke to Madame Waverly,” Lydia said. “She has a great motive for the murder. She was going to lose business with Miss Cassandra on the boardwalk too. And she didn’t seem to like Miss Cassandra much. And she might have threatened me with a prediction.”
“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t be talking to suspects,” Leo said stubbornly. “You could get hurt. And I don’t want to see that happen.”
“I was just trying to help because I was worried about you,” Lydia said, sitting on the couch on the other side of Sunny. “I know what Miss Cassandra said was bothering you.”
“And you think I couldn’t do my job because of it?” he challenged.
Lydia decided not to answer that question. “I know what she pretended to have Uncle Edgar say was hurting you. I knew that our uncle would never say something like that to you, but you seemed to think he would. I wanted to prove that she was a fraud. Then my foray into that led me into another investigation. But the good news is that I did discover that she was lying about talking to spirits. She was really doing research on people in town and was trying to exploit their emotions.”
She left out the monetary exploitation that Miss Cassandra was also taking part in. She thought that the people she interviewed would make good on their promises to right the wrongs they were being blackmailed for – provided, of course, that one of them wasn’t a killer.
She got up and hurried to grab the scrapbook that she had found to give to Leo. She also picked up the folder that contained Miss Cassandra’s research on Leo and Detective Grey. She just wouldn’t explain the whole story to him right now. She wanted to give the blackmail victims the chance to set it right, and she liked her current mailman.
“Trina and I found this today in Miss Cassandra’s beach locker,” Lydia said. “You can see that she was gathering data on you and Detective Grey, so she could unnerve you and continue operating her business.”
“I should berate you for not giving this to me right away,” Leo said, but he looked distracted as he flipped through the folder. “She must have found something in here that let her know that Uncle Edgar was disappointed in me.”
“No,” Lydia insisted. She pushed the scrapbook into his hands. “I also found this in Uncle Edgar’s belongings. It’s full of pictures of you and your accomplishments. He was nothing but proud of you. And he loved you.”
Leo nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.
“Will you promise me that you’ll look through that scrapbook and see all the effort he put into this one about you, so you can see proof that he loved you?” Lydia asked.
“Will you promise me that you’ll stop investigating this murder?” he responded.
Lydia realized they were at an impasse. Sunny barked to break up the tension.
“I should get going,” Leo said, rising. “I have some work to do on my case. But I’ll take the scrapbook as well as the evidence if it will make you happy.”
“It will,” Lydia said.
She gave her brother a hug on the way out and then headed back to the mess she had created with the boxes. If looking through the scrapbook helped Leo be more certain of the love his father figure felt towards him, then the clutter would be worth it.
Sunny followed her into the room and watched as Lydia worked.
“Do you want to help me solve the case while I repack?” Lydia asked.
Sunny wagged her tail, and she took this as a yes.
“Maybe I should take Leo’s advice and drop the case because I really have no idea who did it. It might be Madame Waverly. She has the best motive. And though I always thought of her a sweet lady, she did make a dark prediction for my future. But it might also have been one of the people that Miss Cassandra was blackmailing. It could be the mailman, Marky, even though I’d hate for that to be true. It could be Penny Simmons, maybe even working with her lawyer to cover up their involvement. Or it could have been Brittany. She seems to be the one who has the least issue with causing harm and discomfort to others. However, Daniel said that Miss Cassandra referred to her customer coming that night as a cash cow. She probably didn’t mean the waitress, Brittany. Then again, maybe the killer came to see her after the cash cow left. What do you think, Sunny?”
Sunny tilted her head to the side.
“I know. There are several people with motive and opportunity, but I don’t know which one of them actually did it. Maybe it’s someone else I haven’t even seriously considered. I think Mona looked genuinely shocked when she saw the body, but maybe she was acting.”
Sunny decided it was time to lay down. Lydia continued picking up the items in the room and placing them in the boxes they came from. This time she decided that she would label them better, so she would actually know what was in each box, and was writing a description in Sharpie on the side of each one.
She filled a box with blankets and quilts and labeled it as such. Then, she continued refilling a box that seemed to be filled with odds and ends. She smiled as she realized that they were objects from her family members attempts at different hobbies throughout the years. Some were successful, like the paintings of Aunt Edie’s that she saved and Uncle Edgar’s ship in a bottle. Some hobbies had been abandoned like when the family had decided to try their hand at gardening before a pesky seagull had started eating all the food they grew in the pots on their deck.
She smiled at the memories as she placed the gardening tools in the box. However, as she picked up the three-pronged gardening hoe, she paused. Staring at it, she suddenly made a break in the case.
“Sunny, I think I know who did it,” Lydia said, feeling more certain by the minute. “But I bet this person is going to be on guard about giving a DNA sample. I’m going to have to figure out a different way to prove it.”
Sunny let out a litt
le bark, which Lydia found encouraging.
“I might have an idea,” she said. “It’s a little strange, but I think it just might work.”
16
A Séance for the Suspect
Lydia sat at the table across from Madame Waverly in her mystically decorated room. She was hiding her fingers that she was crossing for good luck.
“I think you’re wrong about this, child,” Madame Waverly said.
“You must not be completely certain, though,” Lydia pointed out. “Or you wouldn’t have agreed to this.”
Cotton Candy and Corpses Page 7
