“The show must go on?” Margaret managed a wry smile as she set Glenora on the kitchen floor.
“Something like that.”
After her aunt left, Liss toasted two slices of rye bread and refilled her mug with coffee. Then, moving quietly so as not to wake her sleeping fiancé, she readied herself for the day.
She saw Margaret’s car pass by from her bedroom window, which was situated directly over the living room. Liss had a good view of the town square and could also see Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium next door. Her aunt’s apartment was on the second floor. And just beyond the front of the Emporium, the edge of a sign stuck out. It was held aloft by a life-sized figure of a skier mounted on the roof of Stu Burroughs’s front porch.
The curtain Liss had pulled aside fell from her limp hand. Stu and Nola had been lovers. They’d had an affair that had broken up Nola’s marriage to Doug. And Nola had taken off after the divorce. Liss wondered why she hadn’t married Stu. As far as she knew, he’d never had a wife.
She frowned. Had anyone told Stu that Nola was dead? Margaret had wanted to last night, but they’d stopped her. The authorities would have had no reason to notify him. And since the story probably hadn’t aired yet, and news reports wouldn’t have released Nola’s name even if it had, then Stu still might not know.
A glance at the clock told Liss that it was only half past eight. It would take her less than ten minutes to drive to the hotel. On impulse, she left the house and walked the short distance to Stu’s place. Like most of the other buildings around the square, it was a white clapboard Victorian. It was, however, the only one with purple shutters on the windows.
It was too early for the ski shop to be open, so Liss headed for the outside staircase that led to the second-floor apartment that was Stu’s home. She rapped lightly on the door.
“It’s open!” The invitation sounded halfhearted and the words were muffled.
Liss went in anyway. She found Stu in his living room. There were no lamps burning, but the early-morning sun provided enough light to show her a lumpy shape in an overstuffed chair. Stu clenched a half-empty bottle of beer in one hand. It wasn’t his first. A dozen dead soldiers lay scattered across the floor.
“I guess you heard about Nola,” Liss said.
“She was a good woman.” He sounded defensive.
“I liked her.”
“Some surprise, seeing her again after all this time.”
“Thirty years, huh?” Liss perched on the edge of Stu’s sofa, facing him. She watched in silence as he guzzled more beer.
“More than thirty. I was barely legal. She was the older woman. Experienced.” He dragged out each syllable of the last word. The expression on his face suggested especially fond, and possibly lewd and explicit, memories.
Liss did not want to hear details of Stu’s sex life. Eeew! But she was curious about something else. “Why did she leave town?”
“Wanted to find herself.” Stu gave a derisive snort. “That was a bigger deal back then than it is now. Women had been liberated for a while, but they were still trying to figure out how to have it all.”
They still are, Liss thought, but she kept her opinion to herself.
“Had you been friends with her and Doug? As a couple?”
“Naw. Doug was a stuck-up prick even back then. I’ve got no idea why Nola married him in the first place.”
“Still, it was kind of hard on him, wasn’t it? Finding out his wife was fooling around with one of their neighbors?”
“Don’t think he cared all that much. Oh, he was embarrassed, sure. And he didn’t like going through a divorce. He’d counted on having the little woman around to take care of the office and smile at the bereaved clients. Doug doesn’t have what you’d call a real reassuring manner. He looks too much like a ghoul.”
Liss fought a smile, since she was inclined to agree, but she didn’t interrupt.
“Nola said he was stiff in bed, too, and not in a good way.”
Way too much information, Liss thought. “I guess you weren’t happy to see her again, then, since she abandoned you?”
Stu shrugged. “It was over thirty years ago, Liss. Nobody holds a grudge that long.”
“Not even a husband who’s been betrayed by his wife?”
He started to laugh and then lost control. Tears streamed down his round red cheeks as he chortled. Liss handed him a tissue from a conveniently placed box.
Stu wiped his eyes, then swallowed the dregs of his beer. “That’s a good one, Liss. What are you thinking? That Doug shoved Nola off a cliff because she walked out on him? Have you seen wife number two? Lorelei’s a real stunner. And she keeps that business running like a Swiss watch. Plus she popped out a son and heir. Trust me, Doug came out way ahead of the game and he knows it.”
“And you, Stu? How did you really feel when Nola left town?”
He heaved himself out of the chair before he answered, heading for the kitchen to get another beer. “Damned woman broke my heart ... for about a week.”
Liss scrambled up and followed him. “And when you saw her again?”
“I was surprised, like I said.” He foraged in the refrigerator and came up with another bottle of a local brew. “I never expected she’d come back here. She said she was leaving to become rich and famous. She was going to be a best-selling novelist.”
“A novelist?” That was news to Liss. “Did she ever get anything published?”
“I doubt it. Looked to me like she turned into fangirl instead.” He laughed again, and not in a nice way.
“So, if you didn’t care anything about Nola anymore, why did you and Doug almost come to blows over who was going to drive her back to the hotel on Thursday night? I’d have thought neither one of you would want anything to do with her.”
Stu laughed again, but this time only a short bark. “Old habits die hard. And old rivalries. I guess we both wanted to know which one of us she’d pick.” He turned, drank, and frowned. “Geez, Liss. I don’t know. Maybe we all had a few regrets. But she didn’t want to reminisce with me, did she? Or rekindle any old flames. The next day, she acted like she barely remembered the good times we had.”
“I’m sorry, Stu,” Liss said, and meant it, but there was nothing she could do for him while he was in this maudlin frame of mind.
“Yeah, yeah.” He collapsed into the nearest kitchen chair. His head fell forward to rest on his folded arms. The beer tilted. Liss rescued it before it could spill out all over the floor and set the bottle upright just out of Stu’s reach.
“Very confusing,” Stu mumbled. “All the memories. Nola ruined Doug’s life. That’s what he thought then. He blamed me for it, too. For a while. Till he saw sense. Why blame me? By that time I wasn’t too happy with her either. Not after she ran off and left us both flat.”
“Seeing each other again at the meeting could have given all of you a sense of closure,” Liss murmured. She edged toward the door. She really had to get a move on if she didn’t want to be late opening the dealers’ room.
Stu’s head lifted. His bleary eyes met hers. “Nola got old and lost her looks, just like the rest of us.” He sounded as if he found this fact extremely satisfying.
“Nola was nervous about attending the meeting,” Liss told him. “Maybe she had a guilty conscience.” Then another thought struck her and she blurted out a question before she thought it through. “Did either you or Doug threaten her all those years ago?”
“Oh, yeah. Right. Can you picture Doug swearing to kill her if she ever came back to Moosetookalook?”
Put that way, the idea did sound absurd. Besides, Doug would have to be an idiot to risk everything he’d built in this community for the sake of revenge on his ex-wife. And Stu? Liss sent a pitying look his way as she left. She had a feeling he was grieving as much for his own lost youth as he was over Nola’s death.
Dan was waiting for her the bottom of the staircase. “Want to tell me what you were doing at Stu’s?”
&
nbsp; “Jealous?”
“Hardly.” But he stayed put, arms folded across his chest, until she answered his question.
“If you must know, I was paying a condolence call. Stu and Nola used to be lovers.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” He fell into step beside her, frowning when she headed across the town square toward the funeral home.
“No joke. And the affair took place while Nola was married to Doug.”
“No way.”
“That’s what Aunt Margaret told earlier me this morning, and Stu just confirmed it.”
“Huh,” Dan said. “That must be what Dolores Mayfield was going on about yesterday. She came out to the hotel looking for Nola. Dad sent her away with a flea in her ear. It was like he was protecting Nola or something.”
Liss momentarily broke stride. Just how many people had been in love with Nola Ventress back in the good old days in Moosetookalook? No—she wasn’t going to go there. But she heard herself saying, “They all knew each other. They were in school together.”
“Yeah, so I gathered. Dolores said she wanted to talk to Nola about a reunion, but Dad wasn’t buying it. Anyway, on her way out, Dolores said she’d told Jane Nedlinger everything.”
“Maybe she was just talking about the murders here in town.”
“That wasn’t the impression I got. It sounded more like Dolores told Jane something personal about Nola. I guess this thing with Doug and Stu would qualify.”
“You wouldn’t think such an old scandal would still matter to anyone.”
Dan caught her arm as they reached the funeral home. “You’re going to talk to Doug. Why?” His eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you don’t think our highly respected town selectman murdered his ex-wife.”
“The thought barely crossed my mind. He’s too straitlaced. I just want to tell him about Nola’s death, in case he doesn’t know yet. Do you want him to find out from some news report on television?” She started up the steps with Dan right behind her.
Liss had been inside Preston’s Mortuary before, more times than she liked to remember. Moosetookalook had held funerals in these rooms for decades. The main parlor lay dead ahead, always redolent of lilies and lemon furniture polish. There were viewing rooms on each side, but only one of them was currently occupied. She felt a moment’s guilt as she remembered Lenny Peet. She hadn’t done anything yet about finding a home for his dog. Or about Frank Preston.
Doug’s office was to their right off the vestibule, before they reached the parlor, but Doug wasn’t there. It was Lorelei Preston who sat behind the big oak desk. She rose when they walked in.
Lorelei was a striking woman, years younger than Doug but possessed of an austere beauty that would last until she was as old as he was. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “If you’re here for the viewing, you’re too early,” she said in clipped tones.
“I was hoping to talk to Doug for a moment,” Liss said.
“About a funeral? Well, it’s never to early for pre-planning.”
“About Nola Ventress.”
Lorelei’s hands clenched involuntarily on the edge of the desk. “I don’t believe he cares to discuss that subject.”
“So you know who she was.”
“Was?” Lorelei sat down abruptly. “What do you mean was? Did something happen to her?”
“She’s dead,” Liss said bluntly. “She died ... unexpectedly. . . last night.”
Lorelei’s eyes narrowed. “Find a different funeral home. My Dugie wanted nothing to do with her while she was alive and he’ll have nothing to do with her now that she’s dead. It’s been years since he last heard from her. He doesn’t need her coming back into his life, not even as a client.”
“He saw Nola Thursday night at the MSBA meeting,” Dan said. “He drove her back to the hotel afterward.”
“That’s impossible!” Lorelei looked stricken. “He’d have told me.”
Apparently not, Liss thought. “Look, we didn’t come here to cause trouble, but I think Doug would want to know about Nola’s death. No matter how badly their marriage ended, he shouldn’t have to hear that kind of news on the Six O’Clock Report.”
“I ... I’ll tell him.” Again Lorelei stood and this time remained on her feet, clearly expecting them to leave.
Liss saw no point in sticking around. Besides, it was already nine. She was officially running late. Once outside, she headed straight for her car, then stopped short. It was in her driveway and, now that she thought about it, she realized that it shouldn’t have been. After her uncomfortable interview with Gordon Tandy, Dan had driven her home.
“My brother Sam ran it into town for you,” Dan said, catching up with her. He took her elbow again and steered her toward his house instead of hers. “There’s no point in taking two vehicles when we’re both going to the hotel. I’ll drive.”
She might have argued, but she didn’t want to take the time.
An hour after the dealers’ room opened, the hairs on the back of Liss’s neck prickled. Someone was watching her. Slowly, she shifted her gaze toward the entrance. The man standing in the doorway, staring at her with chilling intensity, was State Police Detective Gordon Tandy.
He sauntered over to her display tables. On the surface, he was just another conference-goer. He did not wear a uniform and neither his badge nor his gun was obviously displayed. But he did have that distinctive quasi-military bearing and an air of authority. Somehow, even in civvies, he was easy to spot as a cop.
“Liss,” he said in the deceptively pleasant voice she knew so well.
She forced herself to smile. “Gordon.”
“A word with you? Somewhere private would be good.”
“Of course. Beth, can you mind the store?”
Angie’s ten-year-old daughter was thrilled to be asked. Helping in the bookstore was a frequent occurrence, but being responsible for the many and varied gift items sold at Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium was a treat for her.
“Isn’t that kid a little young to hold a job?” Gordon asked as they left the dealers’ room. Liss could hear laughter coming out of one of the larger meeting rooms where a session was in progress. The sign outside the door said it was a panel of Maine writers—Dorothy Cannell, Julia Spencer-Fleming, Susan Vaughan, and Lea Wait.
“Didn’t you ever help out in your father’s store when you were a kid?” Like the Emporium, Tandy’s Gifts and Music was a family business, handed down to Gordon’s brother, Russ, by their father.
“There’s a fine line between that and child labor.”
“Trust me, there won’t be much labor involved. Scottish-themed items do not appear to be big sellers at this conference, except for the few that also feature cats. I sold out of T-shirts picturing bagpipe-playing felines.”
“No market for kilt pins? What’s the world coming to?” They entered the elevator to go down to the lobby level.
Liss stared at him. Was he actually trying to joke with her? She doubted it. He was probably just trying to soften her up before he hit her with the tough questions and gave her another lecture on the dangers of meddling in a murder investigation. To get a little of her own back, she made her voice as casual as possible and said, “My other big sellers are skean dhus.”
Gordon looked puzzled. He knew what they were, of course, being a piper himself. They were the little knives kilt-wearing Scots wore tucked into the top of their hose. But he appeared to be unaware that a skean dhu had been the murder weapon the last time there was a murder in Moosetookalook. Although he’d been away then, Liss was surprised he hadn’t been filled in on all the details as soon as he got back to Maine. After all, his brother had been one of those present at the hotel that weekend.
That had been the same weekend Dan proposed to her.
“They make good souvenirs,” she blurted, then winced at her own inane comment.
Just shut up, Liss, she ordered herself.
Gordon opened the door to the hotel library and waved her in ahead of him
. The room was furnished with shelves full of books that hotel guests were welcome to borrow and also housed jigsaw puzzles and board games for their amusement. An audio recorder, notebook, and several pens had been set out on a small table. A uniformed officer sat behind it, apparently waiting to take notes.
“So, what’s on the agenda?” Liss asked, knowing she sounded much too cheerful. “More questions about Nola?”
“First I have a few questions about Jane Nedlinger,” Gordon said, and indicated that she should take a chair.
Liss perched on the edge of her seat, hands folded primly in her lap. “What about her?”
Gordon grabbed a straight chair, turned it around, and straddled it. He gave her a hard stare. “You tell me. You said that you met her for the first time on Thursday evening.”
“That’s right. At the opening reception. With about a hundred other people around.”
“And then you rushed right out to call an emergency meeting with all the other businesspeople in town.”
“Not all of them.”
“Jane Nedlinger left behind notes she’d made for a blog post she was writing.”
Liss waited.
“Those were the only notes I found when I searched her room. It looks to me as if you were the only person at this entire conference who interested her.”
Liss frowned. That couldn’t be right.
“Liss?”
“She asked to interview me, but later she told Dan that she was going to write the story without my input.”
In painstaking detail, Gordon took her through the events of Thursday evening. Liss tried to confine her answers to a simple recitation of the facts. After all, she hadn’t known Nola’s history at the time of the meeting. There was no point in dwelling on the antagonism between Stu and Doug. She was certain that it hadn’t had any bearing on Jane’s death, and she doubted there was a connection to Nola’s, either. Besides, as Gordon kept telling her, it wasn’t her place to teach the police their business.
“What did you do after the MSBA meeting broke up?” he asked.
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