The Last Dance

by Sonia Parin

  “I like the sound of that.” Faith grinned. “Go on.”

  Abby’s shoulders rose and fell. “Well, we could work the case even if there isn’t one.”

  Joshua looked heavenward.

  Faith poked him on his arm. “What are you complaining about? Abby’s always come through with great leads. She could lay the groundwork for you. You should thank her.”

  Joshua smiled and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Okay, he’s clearly not interested in playing along. So, I’ll be Joshua.”

  “You can’t be Joshua because I’m Joshua.”

  “You more or less said you wouldn’t take part in our game. You had your chance.” Faith turned to Abby. “Okay, so Joshua usually comes to you with the breaking news. I’m assuming he does it to test your response and see if you can cut some corners for him.”

  “I do no such thing,” Joshua complained.

  Ignoring him, Faith made a winding motion with her hand. “Let’s assume I… meaning, Joshua, has broken the news and just told you Marigold suffered a severe asthma attack brought on by formaldehyde poisoning. Who would want to kill Marigold Winthrop and who had the opportunity to do so?”

  “Her husband would have to be at the top of the suspect list,” Abby mused. “If the rumor going around is true, they were getting divorced and that would cost him a pretty penny. Does he have it in him to kill her? What do we know about Harry?”

  “He’s an astute businessman,” Faith said. “I’ve heard people call him ‘Gold Finger’ because whatever he touches, turns to gold.”

  Abby looked at Joshua and smiled. “So, if he is business savvy, is he also cunning in an evil sort of way? It takes a special type of character to plot out someone’s demise. He’d have to be driven because he obviously has a lot to lose and that makes me wonder if he would actually get his hands dirty or if he would pay someone else to do the dirty work for him.”

  “At this point, Abby usually slumps back on the couch or groans,” Joshua murmured.

  Faith strode around in a circle. “We’d need to map out Harry Winthrop’s activities and look at his phone records to see if he’s been in contact with any nefarious characters.” Faith nodded. “But since we don’t have access to his phone records, we might have to rely on Joshua’s spirit of camaraderie.”

  He chortled. “Good luck with that.”

  Faith leaned in and whispered, “I bet anything you’re taking mental notes.”

  Joshua looked at Abby. “I see, you’ve now become a fully-fledged member of this community, happy to create your own entertainment.”

  “I’m doing no such thing.” Abby pointed toward the ballroom. “I’m a guest here.” Sort of. Heavens, if Joshua went through the guest list, he might discover her name missing from it.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what you were just thinking about,” Joshua said.

  “Oh… nothing.”

  A conga line had formed led by Mitch Faydon. Abby gave him brownie points for keeping the guests’ spirits up. At a glance, she could see some had huddled into groups. The way they looked around them could only mean they were talking about Marigold’s death. They might even be trying to figure out if there had been foul play. In other words, they were creating their own entertainment.

  Abby didn’t bother stifling her yawn. “I need to keep myself awake. Okay, let’s think about the least obvious candidate for murder.”

  “Harriet Winthrop,” Faith offered. “The Winthrop family matriarch.”

  “Really? I would have put her second on the list.” In fact, Abby made a mental note to ask Sebastian if he could get her an appointment to see Harriet Winthrop. She guessed the woman didn’t accept visitors without a reference.

  “Actually, I’ve just changed my mind. She’s far too obvious to even make the list,” Faith argued. “She would have wanted Marigold dead from the start and, if the rumors are true, Harriet is not known for her patience. She would have done something about it a long time ago. However, Harriet might have decided to bide her time. She definitely had plenty of reasons to want Marigold out of the picture. Think about it. Marigold might have been the queen bee at school, but in reality, she hailed from the wrong side of the tracks. Her mom worked as a nurse but only because the community assisted her with financial backing to study after her husband supposedly died.”

  “Why supposedly?” Abby asked.

  “No one actually met him. Mrs. Erikson turned up in town one day looking for a job and saying she’d been recently widowed. Five months later, she had a baby.”

  Abby looked at Joshua. “I guess the police can look into her marital status to find out if there had been a husband. Although, I don’t see what that would have to do with the investigation.”

  “And it would be a waste of time because everyone knows there is no Mr. Erikson,” Faith said. “She made him up.”

  Abby tilted her head in thought. “So, you’re saying Mrs. Erikson had never been married and that made Marigold less than good enough to marry into the Winthrop family.”

  Faith shrugged. “I’m not saying it. I’m only parroting what I’ve heard. Anyway, I’ve changed my mind again about Harriet. She must have seen something in Marigold. Otherwise, she would have moved heaven and earth to get rid of her. Maybe she thought Marigold’s hunger to join the upper echelons of society would bring some new blood into the fold. You know, there’s a lot of inbreeding going on. As in, landed gentry offspring marrying other landed gentry offspring.”

  Abby took a tiny sip of her champagne and wished she could have another but she planned on heading home soon. “Harry has a brother. I wonder how he felt about Marigold.”

  Faith’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wouldn’t it be juicy if Harry’s brother lusted after Marigold and, after years of rejection, he decided to put an end to it all by killing her.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Joshua shaking his head.

  Faith put her hand up. “I know, it sounds like the stuff of daytime soap operas, but sometimes… life imitates the small screen.”

  Abby laughed. “I guess this is where you produce a long-lost daughter parading around as a long-lost son.”

  “And why not? If Marigold’s mom had her out of wedlock, it’s quite possible Marigold might have had a child too. Remember, there are the lost years when she left town and went to the city or… somewhere.”

  Joshua’s eyes widened as he mouthed, “Lost years…”

  “Okay, we’ll include your theories on our crime board but only because I like longshots.” Abby pressed her champagne glass against her lip. “What about school friends? Do you think there might be someone who held a grudge against Marigold? After all, she married money. I’m guessing she didn’t keep in touch with her school friends.”

  “I should make an appointment at the hairdresser,” Faith said. “That’s where you get the yummiest gossip. If anyone knows about her school friends, they’re bound to talk about it there.” Faith looked at Joshua. “See, there are some places you couldn’t even try to infiltrate.”

  Joshua checked his watch. “I think I’ll have a word with Charles. I want to see how amenable he’ll be to the idea of asking his guests to forward the photos on their phones.”

  As Joshua strode back inside, Sebastian came out.

  “Did Joshua give you an update?” Abby asked.

  He nodded. “I spoke with the doctor but he didn’t have anything to add.”

  “He probably knows a lot more than he’s letting on but he wanted to bait you into making a large donation to the cause,” Faith suggested. “Oh, did that come across as cynical?”

  “Just a bit,” Abby agreed. Turning to Sebastian, she asked, “What can you tell us about Harry Winthrop?”

  “You want to know if he had reason to want to see his wife dead?” Sebastian asked.

  “Did he? I assume you are old friends.”

  “We’re acquainted. Harry benefited a great deal from that marriage. Marigold excelled at her role o
f social butterfly. He’ll be lost without her. As far as I know, he cherished the ground she walked on.”

  “Oh… But I thought he’d issued her with divorce papers.”

  “Nonsense. He’d never survive without her,” Sebastian said.

  “If it’s not true, I wonder how the rumor started…” Had the killer set tongues wagging as a way to divert everyone’s attention and point the finger at the husband?

  Faith edged toward the ballroom door. “The masks are about to come off. We should remain vigilant.”

  “And be on the lookout for what?” Abby asked.

  “It’ll be the moment of truth. If the killer is here, they are carrying the weight of guilt.” Faith bobbed her head from side to side. “Then again, they might think they got away with murder so they’re feeling cocky. Am I allowed to use that word?”

  “Why wouldn’t you be?”

  Faith shrugged. “In this day and age, you never know what’s politically correct. FYI, I’m using the word cocky in reference to roosters who strut around with a full dose of confidence and conceit.”

  “Okay. Duly noted.” Abby saw Joshua making his way toward them. “Well? Did you talk Charles into collaborating?”

  He nodded. “He’s in denial but he’s focused on making sure everyone has a good time.”

  The band did a countdown to midnight. At the stroke of twelve, everyone removed their masks. Everyone, except Charles Granger.

  Faith wound her arm through Abby’s. “Charles would make the perfect killer. No one would suspect him.”

  Abby whispered, “I think you just did.”

  Chapter Ten

  “WHAT ARE YOU STILL doing in bed? Get up. The entire town is buzzing with the news.”

  “Huh? Faith?” Abby tried to sit up but Faith had her hands around her shoulders and was shaking her. “How… How did you get into my apartment?”

  “Markus let me in. Honestly, he’s not a morning person. He grumbled all the way upstairs.”

  “Could you please stop shaking me. I’m awake.”

  “That’s what you said a couple of minutes ago but you drifted right back to sleep. Do I need to pour cold water on you?”

  “Is that a threat or a suggestion?” Abby thought she’d play it safe and not wait for an answer. Flinging the bed covers off, she rolled out of bed. Doyle sat by the door. “Aren’t you supposed to bark? There’s an intruder in the apartment.”

  “He knows me. Why would he bark?”

  “All right. Give me five minutes. I need to stand under a hot shower.”

  “While you do that, I’ll take Doyle out for his morning constitutional,” Faith offered and strode off mumbling, “I can’t believe you’d sleep right through all this. I got up at the crack of dawn…”

  ***

  “SEE, I TOLD YOU. EVERYONE is out and about,” Faith said.

  Abby set the menu down. They’d been lucky to get a table at Joyce’s Café. Usually on Sundays people ambled into town at around midday but the clock had just struck nine. “What time did you barge into my apartment?”

  “Seven. If you hadn’t spent an hour in the shower, we would have snatched a table by the window. Just as well I went into your bedroom to see what was holding you up.”

  Abby closed her eyes. When she’d stepped out of the shower and dressed, she’d collapsed onto the bed thinking closing her eyes for five minutes would do wonders for her, but she’d fallen asleep again.

  “It’s all right for you. Last night, you left with everyone else and got a decent night’s sleep.” Abby had returned home after two in the morning. After all the guests had left, she had joined Joshua, Sebastian and Charles in his study and had spent nearly two hours mulling over what had happened. By the time her head had hit the pillow, it must have been close to three in the morning. She’d had… four hours of sleep. Abby pressed her hands to her face and groaned.

  “I’ve called Joshua,” Faith said. “But I got his voicemail. He must have heard something by now.”

  “And, when he does, he will choose if and when he shares the information.” Abby checked on Doyle who’d curled up by her feet. He hadn’t been that happy to be taken out so early in the morning…

  “It has to be bad news. I’m sure it is. Otherwise, he would have called by now to set everyone’s mind at ease.”

  Abby had to agree.

  Faith gave a firm nod. “We should head over to Charles’ place. My instinct tells me that’s where the action will be this morning.”

  “You dragged me here because you said everyone was talking about last night and…” Abby brushed her fingers across her eyes and yawned. “I forget the rest.”

  Joyce approached them, her order book in hand. “Please tell me you have news. Everyone has been asking.” Joyce frowned. “What’s wrong with Abby?”

  Faith nudged Abby. She peeled her eyes open. “Sorry. Yes, I’m here. Sort of…”

  “I’ll charge you up with a coffee.”

  “Thank you. I’ll trust you to make the right choice. I’ve tried selecting something from your extensive menu, but the words keep scrambling in my mind.” She turned to Faith. “How on earth did you manage to get out of bed so early?”

  Faith held up her cell phone. “I set up a hashtag for the Venetian Ball and left my phone on. It started pinging early this morning with a no news is good news post. People are getting suspicious. They know Marigold is dead and now they suspect foul play.”

  “Really? When did everyone become so skeptical? Marigold might have had warning signs which she ignored.”

  Faith set her phone down. “In Joshua’s place, I’d be getting in touch with her city doctor. Then again, it’s Sunday. He’s probably on the golf course.” Faith looked up. “Heads up. Sebastian just walked in.”

  Abby looked toward the counter. “He’s getting a takeout.”

  Sebastian turned. When he saw Abby, he said something over his shoulder and made a beeline for her. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “You’re hitting the ground running this morning,” he said.

  Abby rolled her eyes toward Faith. “I have my trusted assistant to thank for that. Any news?”

  “I just got off the phone with Joshua,” he said.

  Noticing the people at the next table leaning toward them, Abby nudged Sebastian under the table. “Interesting. Did he call you or did you call him?” she whispered.

  Sebastian smiled. “I called him. He actually said the moment he hears something, Abby Maguire will be the first to know. Otherwise, he’d never hear the end of it. I’m happy to see you’ve established your contacts in town. That’s a sign of a good investigative reporter.”

  “I’m a lifestyle reporter,” Abby mouthed.

  “Have you been in touch with the Winthrop family?” Faith asked.

  Sebastian gave a small nod. “Harry has been sedated. I spoke with his mother, Harriet. As expected, she’s holding the fort and preparing a statement for the press.” Hearing his phone ring, he excused himself. Moments later, he returned to the table. “That was Harriet Winthrop. The police have paid her a visit and asked to speak with Harry. I’m afraid it’s official and it’s not good news.”

  ***

  “WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ME being the first one to know?” Abby mused as she sipped her third cup of rocket fuel coffee.

  “You don’t seem to be overly concerned,” Faith said.

  “That’s because I’m not. Joshua has a job to do and when he finds the time, I’m sure he’ll contact me.” She looked up. “Ah, here come my blueberry pancakes. It’s finally starting to feel a lot like Sunday.” Abby kept her attention glued on the magnificent stack of pancakes and plump blueberries making their way to her. However, she didn’t fail to notice everyone’s attention fixed on her. Clearly, they were all waiting for her to make a move or witness her getting a call from Joshua.

  None of it mattered. It had taken her three cups of Joyce’s fully charged coffee to feel relatively
normal. Now, she needed to sink her teeth into—

  “Hold that order,” Joyce called out.

  The waitress came to a full stop and looked over her shoulder.

  “Looks like Joyce is about to dish out some attitude,” Faith whispered.

  “I don’t want attitude. I just want some food.”

  Joyce approached her and leaned down to whisper. “I’ve just received a call from Joshua. He wants to see you at the pub.”

  “Why didn’t he call me?”

  Joyce signaled with her eyes and whispered, “He didn’t want everyone hanging on your every word.”

  “But what about my pancakes?”

  “They’ll be waiting right here for you. Now go. And come back with the news.”

  “Do you have any idea how absurd this all sounds?” How could Joshua do this to her?

  “There’s no point in grumbling,” Faith said. “Come on.”

  “You too? You actually think people are not going to put two and two together and come up with clandestine meeting?” she whispered. “How odd will it look if I leave now, before having my pancakes?” She watched the waitress return the pancakes to the kitchen. “It’s behavior like this that makes me think I should pack up and go home.” Abby scooped a still sleepy Doyle up in her arms and carried him all the way to the pub.

  When she reached the corner, she caught sight of Mitch standing by the residents’ entrance. Seeing her, he waved.

  “Let me guess, I’m to go straight up to my apartment.”

  He nodded. “I’m under strict orders. Joshua is waiting for you.”

  “Is there any chance he might have ordered some breakfast?”

  “Yes,” Mitch said, “I just delivered a full breakfast for him.”

  “And?”

  “He wanted a Midnight Express coffee, but Frankie is not working today and I have no idea how to prepare it for him.” Mitch shrugged. “I guess I’ll just wing it and hope he’s not as fastidious as you.”