“What was the name of the girl he married? Ellen? No, it was Elise.” Leah snapped her fingers. “Elise Poe. I think her grandfather was a senator, too.”
“Too bad the marriage didn’t work out,” Joel said. “With those family connections, Gordon might have gone into politics himself. It’s what he always dreamed of doing.”
“Do you know why they divorced?” I asked.
Joel smirked. “The same reason everyone divorces: incompatibility. And I should know.”
Our food arrived and conversation stopped while Drea put down the colorful Fiesta plates.
“Why were you in Minnesota then?” I asked Joel after she left.
“I wasn’t. I’ve never set foot in the state. Why should I?”
I decided to concentrate on my eggs and chai. The energy at the table wasn’t conducive to friendly conversation. Or enjoying my breakfast.
Dawn poured strawberry sauce over her berries and cream French toast. “How well do you know Gordon? After all, you both live in such a small town.”
“His company did some work for me last year. But we’ve never had a lot to do with each other.” I decided not to mention the threatening encounter last night in the parking lot. “And you should know he appears much older than a man in his late thirties. It might be a shock when the rest of you see Gordon, particularly if everyone once had a crush on him.”
“Don’t insult me.” Joel lifted a scornful eyebrow. “Do I look like some impressionable teenage girl? Or hero-worshipping ‘bro’?”
“I’ll admit to a bit of a man crush,” Zack said. “Gordo was smart, funny, athletic.”
“I had a full-blown woman crush,” Dawn said. “But I never had a chance with him.”
“Same with me,” Leah chimed in. “Although not for lack of trying. I did everything to get his attention. I even pounced on him on the way to the showers one evening.” Her expression softened. “Okay, maybe we shared one delicious moment. Or hour, to be more correct. The next day, I went back to not existing for him. None of us did. Not with Sienna around.”
“If Gordon stayed at a Bramble cabin, he was living on campus,” I said.
Dawn smoothed the napkin on her lap. “He commuted from his family’s home for the first week before deciding to spend the rest of the summer at the bayou. I mentioned to Gordon how some local kids chose to stay on campus. I also told him if he lived on campus, Sienna might pay more attention to him. Sienna was one of the few girls immune to Gordon’s charms, at least in the beginning.” She sighed. “Maybe it was all an act to make him want her more.”
“Hello?” Joel said. “I believe I had something to do with Sienna not running after Gordon. At least for those first few days.”
“He’s right.” Dawn nodded. “I’d forgotten Joel and Sienna were sweet on each other that first week. Although painting was the most important thing to Sienna. Even more important than Gordon. The girl spent every waking moment at her easel.”
“Not every waking moment,” Joel muttered.
“To be honest, I hoped Sienna and Joel would become more involved with each other. But Gordon won her over. I should have waylaid him on the way to the showers like you did.” Dawn pointed a fork at Leah.
“A shame you didn’t.” She winked. “It was worth it.”
“So Gordon was the best-looking student at BAS that summer, and Sienna was the most talented,” I said.
“Yep,” Joel said between mouthfuls of his Greek omelette. “And Sienna was pretty, too. The prettiest girl there. A lot better looking than Gordon, although you’d never know it from listening to these two.”
“As you can see, Dawn and I spent the summer chasing after Gordon,” Leah said, “while Joel pined for Sienna.”
“Fat lot of good it did any of you.” Zack downed the rest of his coffee.
“What were her paintings like?” I asked.
“BAS keeps one or two examples of every student’s work,” Dawn told me. “Ask Tina Kapoor to show you Sienna’s paintings.”
“To answer your question,” Joel said, “Sienna was a bold, figurative painter, a combination of Eric Fischl and Frida Kahlo. But there was an abstract strain in her waiting to come out. Had she lived, Sienna might have ended up having a career like Fiona Rae.”
I gave him a questioning look. “For someone dismissive of an art education, you seem to have kept up your interest in the art world.”
“Twenty years ago, I harbored a fantasy of opening my own art gallery. A place where I could exhibit the work of artists as gifted as Sienna. But my summer at BAS put an end to that.” Joel’s face hardened. “Like it put an end to her.”
The other three studied their plates with renewed interest. “I’d think all of you might want to blame Gordon for what happened to her, not BAS,” I said. “Her body was buried on his family’s property. Maybe he had something to do with her death.”
“Excuse me.” Dawn’s voice suddenly became as sharp as nettles. “Who are you to accuse our friend of murder?”
“Sienna was a friend of yours, too. And her body was found miles away from the school. How did she get from the art school to the Sanderling farm? Did she have a car?”
“None of us had cars,” Zack said. “We flew in from out of state or were driven here by our parents.”
“As a local boy, Gordon would have had his own car,” I persisted.
“What’s your point?” Joel’s gaze was as unfriendly as his tone.
“Gordon was romantically involved with Sienna, and had access to a vehicle to transport her to his family’s farm.” I lifted an eyebrow at them. “Where someone buried her body.”
“Gordon did not kill Sienna,” Dawn said. “He couldn’t have harmed her.”
“How do you know? You haven’t seen him in twenty years. All of you admitted you don’t even keep in touch, except for Zack and Christian. People change a lot in two decades.”
“Marlee, it’s true we don’t know what Gordon is like now,” Leah said. “But we remember what he was like twenty years ago, which was when Sienna died. And the Gordon who attended BAS with us was no killer.” She pushed her plate of pancakes away; I noticed she had barely touched her food. I suspected she kept rail thin by eating no more than a few mouthfuls every meal. “As for Gordon’s farm, lots of BAS students knew where it was. His family invited our entire Bramble for a barbecue.”
“Yes, I know. Theo told me.”
“And not just our Bramble was invited,” Dawn said. “Some of the younger ones, too. Over fifty students attended. BAS had to arrange for a local school bus to transport us.”
“Never saw so much barbecued chicken in my life.” Joel smiled.
“I remember the wine,” Zack said. “Even though Gordon’s family had shut down the winery business, they had a fine selection in their cellar. Gordo kept us supplied all summer.”
Dawn turned to me. “Don’t get the wrong idea. The Sanderlings didn’t serve wine to the underage students. But Gordon was good at sneaking a bottle or two to his friends.”
“By the way, Theo was also there.” Joel raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Maybe you should be a little suspicious about your baker.”
“Theo has an alibi. He left BAS a week before summer school ended to go home. His relatives in Illinois all swear he was with them when Sienna disappeared.”
“His family could be lying to protect him,” Zack said.
“And Theo lives in a fantasy world. You told me last night that Theo said I knew magic because I taught him a few bird calls.” Leah frowned. “Didn’t you think that was strange?”
“Maybe he misunderstood you. I’m sure this will sound ridiculous, but I asked him to summon a crow . . . and a crow suddenly appeared.”
Dawn looked at me as if I were insane. “Where in the world did this happen?”
“At the house he rents along the river.” I hesitated. “Crow Cottage.”
The table erupted into laughter. “I’m betting the place is called Crow Cottage f
or a reason,” Joel said. “Like lots of crows have been seen there.”
“Why would he make something like that up?” I asked.
“I bet he heard about my ancestry and fabricated some fanciful tale associated with it.”
“Ancestry?” I turned to Leah.
“Don’t let my blond hair and fair skin fool you,” she said. “I’m one-eighth Choctaw on my mother’s side. I wasn’t the only student at BAS with Native American blood. Some of us sat around the fire pit at night comparing stories of tribal legends. Theo was always skulking in the shadows. He could have heard us speak about summoning totem animals or something. And I was taught to imitate bird calls by my grandmother. He’s right when he says I taught him a few. But only because he asked me to. Theo did love birds.”
“Theo also mentioned there was a secret bird call you wouldn’t teach him.”
Joel grinned at the others. “The secret bird call? At least that one makes sense.”
“We liked to party after curfew,” Leah explained. “When the coast was clear, we’d give a signal. Because the call of a night heron is distinctive, I taught the others how to imitate it. Sorry, Marlee, there’s nothing magical about any of this. Just a bunch of kids wanting to sneak off to the woods to drink and fool around.”
I sat back, arms folded across my chest. “Why did all of you come back for the centenary? It must be unpleasant to be here, given your last memories of BAS.”
“You’re beginning to sound like a policeman. And I don’t like it.” Joel’s cheeks reddened with anger. “I don’t like it at all.”
Zack shook his head. “Don’t let her get to you.”
“Joel’s right,” Dawn said to me. “It’s felt like an interrogation since you sat down.”
“I told you, I want to help Theo cope with his shock over Sienna’s body being discovered. But I’m sure the police will be questioning everyone at this table.”
“I was on the hot seat yesterday with some guy called Captain Holt.” Leah sighed.
“They’ve also questioned Gordon,” I said.
“Poor Gordon,” Dawn murmured. “Hasn’t he suffered enough?”
“We came back because all of us have been living with a ghost for twenty years,” Zack said with sudden vehemence. “And we had no idea until yesterday that Sienna’s body had been found. I’m not sure we would have returned if we had known. But when Sienna disappeared, our youth and innocence vanished as well. She was our friend. We lived with her all summer. Yes, we were jealous of her talent, but we also liked and admired her. And she was the youngest in our group. We felt protective of her.”
Dawn wore a grim expression. “For twenty years, we believed she had drowned. After all, it’s only a thirty-minute walk from the bayou to one of the beaches.”
“And we were ingenious about sneaking alcohol on campus.” Zack now pushed his own plate away. “I drank a lot even then. But Sienna could keep up with me. If she’d lived, I’m sure she would have wound up at A.A. meetings, too. When her clothing washed ashore, all of us assumed she got drunk and went swimming in the lake after we went to sleep.”
“The centenary gave us the excuse to return as a group and lay the memory of Sienna to rest,” Dawn said. “We were in shock twenty years ago and so young. We never grieved properly. A few days after her clothing was found, the school semester was over and we all went home.”
“What about Christian Naylor? Is he coming?” I asked.
“He should be landing in Chicago about now,” Zack said. “He took the red-eye. We spoke last night. I wanted to let him know Sienna’s body had been found. He was more upset than I thought he’d be. Although all of us are in shock. I had to call my sponsor this morning. The last thing I need is to start drinking over this tragedy again. I’ve been sober seven years, four months, and three days. I can’t risk my sobriety over this. I can’t.”
Joel leaned across the table. “We’ll get through this, buddy. I promise.”
Leah laid her head on Zack’s shoulder.
Dawn turned to me again. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious of Gordon, or even of us. But none of us wished any harm on Sienna. And Gordon would have given his life for her.”
“That may be true,” I replied. “But someone buried Sienna in those woods. And the same person made it look as if she had drowned by throwing her clothing in the lake.”
“Maybe the murderer is long gone,” Joel said, before draining his coffee.
“Maybe the murderer never left,” I said, thinking of Gordon Sanderling.
“Or maybe he came back to the scene of the crime after twenty years.” Dawn’s gaze became even more intense. “Maybe he’s pretending to be a harmless and simple young man.”
“Theo did not kill Sienna.” I gave her a challenging look of my own.
Dawn startled me by grabbing my wrist. “No one really knows Theo or what he’s capable of, Marlee. I don’t think even Theo knows. I’d be careful if I were you. Really careful.” She squeezed my wrist so hard, I let out a small cry of pain.
After yanking my hand from her grip, I signaled Drea to bring the check. For the first time, I left my breakfast at the café unfinished. Did Theo’s family lie to protect him? And was he even aware of what was truth and what was fantasy? Yet I trusted him more than I did any of these people sitting in the booth with me. Beneath their ready answers and thinly veiled exasperation, they were afraid. Maybe they had been afraid since the day Sienna disappeared. But was it because they didn’t know what happened to their friend? Or because they did?
Chapter 13
Although breakfast with Sienna’s friends had not been pleasant, the start of the workday promised better things. Moments after I hung the OPEN flag outside my shop door, a middle-aged couple hurried inside and cleaned out the shelf of blueberry and raspberry vinaigrette: eleven bottles of each, to be exact.
“Do you have more in the back?” the woman asked as her male companion lined up the twenty-two bottles they chose on the counter. I tried to read her expression to see if this was a joke, but her eyes remained hidden by enormous amber sunglasses.
“I don’t think we have any raspberry left. Blueberry, for sure.” I sent Gillian to our storeroom for the last dozen bottles of blueberry vinaigrette.
While Gillian rolled the bottles in bubble wrap, I rang up their purchase. “Are you caterers?” I asked. “Or restaurant owners perhaps?”
The man shook his head. Since the woman only readjusted her sunglasses, it was clear they had no interest in conversation.
“Thank you for visiting my store.” I gave them the handled bags filled with bottled vinaigrette. “And I’ll be ordering more vinaigrette if you need any in the future.”
In response, the woman turned on her heel and swept out of the shop. At least the man gave a curt nod before leaving. Once they were gone, Gillian and I looked at each other.
“What was that all about?” I asked her. “Why would they need so much vinaigrette?”
“Big salad eaters?”
“If they need thirty-four bottles of vinaigrette, they must be bathing in the stuff.” I looked down at their credit card receipt. “But at nine dollars a bottle, I’m not complaining.”
“When you reorder, remember we need more berry dog treats, too.” Gillian said. “Piper bought the last of them yesterday afternoon while you were at lunch. And she brought her Great Dane with her. I swear, he took up half the store. I never knew Great Danes were so huge.”
I put the receipt in the register drawer. “I think he’s only a little smaller than a Mazda.”
The door swung open again as three customers entered. One of them was a sunburnt child who ran to the ice cream counter. Gillian retied her chef apron, ready to scoop ice cream and blend smoothies. “How’s the road rally coming along?”
“It’s nothing to do with me anymore. I’ve done my part with the posters. The Blackberry Road Rally is Piper’s baby. Let her obsess about it. Along with Andrew and Dean.”
; “They’re determined to win. Last night they planned to watch Girl with a Pearl Earring in case there were road rally questions about Dutch painters.” A giggling Gillian went off to scoop blackberry fudge ripple ice cream.
My newest flavor of ice cream sounded so good I was tempted to eat some myself. Especially since I’d eaten as little breakfast as Leah Malek had. Because I left the Sourdough Café at nine-thirty, I hoped to catch Theo before he left for the day. But all that greeted me in The Berry Basket kitchen were the sight and delicious aroma of fresh-baked raspberry rhubarb bars (gluten free), blackberry lemon pound cake, and raspberry cheesecake cupcakes.
Ryan’s sister-in-law arrived late with the berry pies from Zellars; the cousins from Ohio here for the BAS celebrations had been persuaded to move from the bayou campus to the Zellar farm. Which meant they would probably be spending most of their time at the orchards rather than enjoying the festivities with their fellow alumni. A shame if the visiting relatives missed today’s activities: dune buggy rides along Lake Michigan, a beach volleyball tournament, and a luau tonight at the bayou. Thankfully, I had Alison and Emma staying with me. I doubted I’d see much of Ryan until these latest family members went home.
Because I gave Andrew and Dean the day off to attend the dune buggy rides, Gillian and I were kept busy all morning. When things slowed down at one o’clock, I told Gillian to grab lunch for herself. I took advantage of the empty store to eat the hummus and carrots I kept in the refrigerator, along with a scoop of blackberry ripple fudge ice cream. I’d finished spooning the last of the ice cream and was considering a slice of pound cake when the door opened once more.
“Welcome to The Berry Basket,” I sang out. But my smile faded when I saw it was Janelle Davenport, my least favorite Oriole Point police officer. Like my earlier vinaigrette-loving customer, she, too, hid behind dark glasses.
I suspected she always wore aviator sunglasses because it made her look tough, as did her muscled and toned upper arms. The tough-cop pose seemed unnecessary for our small village. Until Cole Bowman was killed last month, there hadn’t been a murder in Oriole Point for years. Given how the police department had handled the case, that lack of experience showed. Half the police department was part-time, with the other half comprising Chief Gene Hitchcock, Janelle, and an excitable fellow called Bruno. We were lucky Chief Hitchcock was a first-rate law enforcement officer. He balanced out the rest of his unevenly talented squad.
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