Third Strike

by Kathi Daley

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Murdered?”

  “It turns out that Francine Kettleman, also known as Frannie K., was the fourth victim of the Silk Stocking Strangler.”

  I could hear my heart pounding as I tried to wrap my head around this.

  “The Silk Stocking Strangler murdered thirteen women over a ten-month period in 1964 and 1965,” Vikki continued. “All the victims were strangled with a pair of women’s nylon stockings, and all thirteen bodies were found in cemeteries along the East Coast from Florida to Massachusetts.”

  “Oh my God. How awful. That poor women. Do you know exactly when Frannie was murdered?”

  “On August 12, 1964.”

  “Just shortly after the letters stopped. Do you know where she was found?”

  “A cemetery about fifty miles from here. My friend tracked down the original FBI report. Frannie, who was just twenty-one at the time, was living at the resort when she was killed. Garrett’s mother, Lillabeth Hanford, was interviewed at the time, and she reported that Frannie had been living at the resort for a little over a year. Mrs. Hanford confirmed that Frannie was married to a man named Tom Kettleman, who happened to be the son of one of Mrs. Hanford’s best friends, Vivian Kettleman. Vivian had recently passed away after a long battle with cancer. Shortly after his mother passed, Tom was drafted. He didn’t have any family in the area, so Tom asked Mrs. Hanford to watch out for Frannie while he was away. He was supposed to be gone for two years, but he was injured and shipped back to the States after serving only fifteen months. He returned home just five days before Frannie was found dead.”

  “Wow. I had a lot of thoughts regarding how this whole thing would end, but I wasn’t expecting this. It seems surreal.”

  “Yeah. I felt the same way when I heard. I almost feel as if I knew Frannie after reading Paul’s letters to her. When my friend told me what had happened to her, I actually cried.”

  I took a sip of my coffee, allowing myself a moment to get my emotions under control. I’d never met the woman, hadn’t even heard of her until a few days before, but I couldn’t help but feel as if someone had punched me in the gut. To not only die so young but at the hands of a serial killer was beyond imagining.

  “It’s odd,” Vikki said. “When you first showed me the letters and I realized Francine would be in her seventies by now, I half-expected she might have died along the way. Not that it’s all that odd to live into your seventies, but I would think the odds are just as good you wouldn’t make it that far. I wasn’t expecting to be upset if we found out she was gone. I was more interested in learning how she lived. But this…To die young and in such a violent way. It makes me feel ill.”

  “I know what you mean.” I took another sip of my coffee. “I still wonder what happened to Paul. He must have been devastated.”

  “Yeah. The poor guy really seemed to be in love. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know how his life turned out.”

  “Although now that we know who Francine was, and that she was a friend of Lilly Hanford’s, maybe that will jog Garrett’s memory and he’ll remember something. I think I’ll ask him about it at Thanksgiving. It couldn’t hurt.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Vikki glanced at her phone. “I have to run. I’m supposed to meet Alex to talk to Coach Cranston, and then I have to fly up to New York to meet my agent about the production schedule for the first movie they’re making on my book series. I’ll be gone overnight, but I should be home by dinner tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. And thanks for going the extra mile to find out about Francine.”

  “No problem. I was curious too.”

  ******

  Clara was understandably upset when I told her what had happened to Francine. She asked if she could hang on to the locket in the hope of making a connection with Franny’s spirit. I wasn’t attached to the locket in any way, so I told her she could keep it as long as she wanted.

  I’d called Candy and requested another meeting, this time with Clara and me. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but she didn’t refuse either. After a bit of negotiation, she agreed to let us take her to lunch on her break. There was an hour before we needed to leave the resort, and I was on my way out the door for a short walk when I ran into Brit.

  “Oh good. I caught you,” Brit said.

  “What’s up?”

  “I think I found the proof we need to demonstrate that Dexter and C. Menow are the same person. I have my computer all set up in my cabin. Will you come over and look?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve had a feeling this whole time that Dexter and C. Menow were the same person, although I’m a bit surprised he was still so insecure by his senior year of college. I understand he’s quite brilliant.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes an elevated IQ can act as a barrier to social normalcy.”

  I followed Brit into her cabin. She’d done a lot to make it her own; brightly colored paintings hung on the walls, a red coffeemaker sat on the counter, and red and white mugs hung from hooks under one of the cabinets.

  “I love the sofa,” I said as I sat down on the dark blue suede unit.

  “Thanks,” Brit responded as she sat down at her computer desk. “It was kind of a splurge, but I really, really wanted it. I’ll probably be paying for it for the next five years, but it was worth it.”

  “It goes perfectly with your grandmother’s quilt,” I said, referring to the quilt, made from dark blue, bright red, and white squares.

  “The quilt is the main reason I went with the red, white, and blue theme. A house just wouldn’t be a home without Nana’s quilt.” Brit typed some commands into her computer. “Okay, this is what I found. I started off by looking through Dexter Parkway’s current social media accounts. At first, nothing jumped out as odd, but then I noticed that he used #feelinit several times in his posts over the past few months. I went back and looked at C. Menow’s posts to see if I could find a similar hashtag and found three instances where C. Menow used #feelinit. Now, that doesn’t prove conclusively that the two are the same person, but it was a start. Once I had that piece of information, I looked at the dates the posts to C. Menow were added during the time Dexter would have been doing his undergrad work at Boston College. I found that with one exception, all the posts between the time Dexter would have gone off to college and Trey died were made either on the weekend or during the summer or school holidays.”

  “Yeah, but C. Menow could have posted from anywhere.”

  “True, but almost all the posts consist of photos with hashtags. The photos are all of Trey, so C. Menow would have had to have taken the photos when he was home from college.”

  “Maybe, but Trey was in college during that time as well. It could be that C. Menow lives on Gull Island and was only able to take the photos when Trey was home on break.”

  “That’s a legitimate point. I did, however, find this one photo of Trey at the University of South Carolina.” Brit scrolled through and pulled up a photo of Trey standing in front of the university library, speaking to a young woman who looked as if she might be another student.

  “I wonder if that’s Melanie Carson. George told me that Dexter went to visit Melanie, who also attended USC, and ran into Trey. He was the one who introduced them.”

  Brit hit Print and the photo spilled out. “I guess we should ask him. If this is Melanie, it would seem to me that Dexter has to be C. Menow.”

  Brit and I returned to the main house. George was on his way out but before he left he confirmed that the woman in the photo was Melanie Carson. Proving Dexter was C. Menow didn’t also prove he was the one who’d drugged Trey, but it made him a lot stronger suspect. I called Alex to let him know what we’d found, and he agreed to call Dexter to confront him with the evidence we’d uncovered. While I had him on the line, he told me Victoria had worked her magic, managing to get Coach Cranston to admit that Jett’s father had wanted him to give him a report he had that revealed Trey had tested positive for steroids in high school. Tre
y was a minor at the time, so the report, which had been made when the high school tested all its athletes, wasn’t a public record. Trey had been suspended for two games, but no further action was taken. As far as the coach knew, Trey stopped using the steroids after his drug use was discovered.

  Coach Cranston had indeed been hurt that Trey had dumped him, which was why he’d agreed to provide Mr. Strong with a copy of the report. It probably wouldn’t have made a whole lot of difference by then, but Cranston knew image was important, and if it had gotten out that Trey used steroids while in high school, it could have created suspicion on possible current drug use. By the time Jett showed up to get the report, which the coach had insisted be picked up in person, he had changed his mind. He told Jett the deal was off, Jett left the party, and he assumed that was the end of it until Mr. Strong tracked him down at the game and they’d had words in the parking lot.

  “So why were they standing next to each other when Trey went down?” I asked Alex.

  “Cranston said he was watching the game and Mr. Strong came over to stand next to him just as Trey was coming up to bat.”

  “Did they speak?”

  “Cranston said Mr. Strong apologized for being out of line, and the next thing he knew, Trey was down. He claims he was in shock after that and didn’t remember much of what happened from then on.”

  I turned to Brit and Clara. “So now we know why Coach Cranston lied about having spoken to Jett’s dad,” I said. “I’m sure he didn’t want to admit he’d even considered giving Mr. Strong the damaging report. We’re fairly certain Dexter is C. Menow. I guess we just need to figure out who drugged Trey.”

  “It has to be Dexter,” Brit insisted. “He was at the party and he had motive, not only because of the way Trey had treated him but how he treated Melanie and his own baby. Assuming he’s C. Menow, we also know Dexter was obsessed with Trey in a way that goes way beyond normal hero worship. He also has the knowledge base to mix the drug cocktail given to Trey at the party. It has to be him.”

  I glanced at Clara, who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “My instinct tells me Candy is somehow involved. She either spiked the drink herself or knows who did it. I think once we’re able to unlock the secret she has been hanging on to, we’ll have our answers.”

  “Okay. Let’s go meet with her.” I glanced at Brit. “I’ll fill you in when we get back. It would be really nice to wrap this up today; I’m going to be elbows deep in pies tomorrow.”

  ******

  Candy had wanted to meet in a little burger place near the store where she worked. By the time Clara and I arrived, she was already seated in one of the red vinyl booths. “Coffee?” I asked.

  “No. I’m eight weeks pregnant and Doc says I shouldn’t drink coffee. I’ll just have a burger and water, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure, and congratulations. I hadn’t realized you were expecting.”

  “Not everyone knows yet. Just a few people, like Hudson’s and my family. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but I guess it won’t be long before I start to show.”

  “Yes, I guess it won’t.”

  We ordered at the counter and Clara and I took the bench seat across from Candy. “Thank you for coming,” I began.

  “I told you before, I don’t know nothin’.”

  “I know. But I felt maybe there was something you wanted to say before but didn’t have the chance.”

  “It’s all right, dear,” Clara joined in. “I know you’re frightened. I understand that fear. You want to tell us what you know, but you also want to protect someone. Someone who means a lot to you. Someone you’d never in a million years want to hurt.”

  Candy didn’t respond.

  “Is it Dexter you’re protecting?” I finally asked.

  A single tear slid down Candy’s cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. It was a mistake. We would never have hurt Trey.”

  “We?” I asked.

  “Me and Dexter. Dex was just trying to help. He didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning,” I suggested.

  Candy used a napkin to dry her eyes. She took several deep breaths, then began. “Trey wasn’t supposed to drink the spiked punch. Rena was.”

  “Rena?” I asked.

  “She was ruinin’ everything. Trey and Heather were meant to be together. Everyone knew that. When Trey broke up with her, Heather was so mad and so hurt. Trey shouldn’t ought to have treated her the way he did. I was so mad at him for ruinin’ everythin’ that I could hardly stand it, but then he came home over Christmas durin’ his junior year. Heather and me and Hudson were all at this party, and Trey walked in. I could see by the look in his eyes that he’d been missin’ Heather, and I knew she was missin’ him too. I was sure they were goin’ to get back together and things would go back to the way they should be, but then Trey went back to school after New Year’s and met Rena. When she showed up with him at the party that night, I was so mad. She shouldn’t ought to have been there. Even Heather was bein’ nice to her. It wasn’t right.”

  I waited for Candy to finish. I was sure the only way I’d get my answers was to let her work through things at her own pace.

  “I was so mad at Rena that night, I guess I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I knew a guy who was there who sometimes had drugs to sell, so I asked him if he had any that would make a person really sick. He said he had somethin’ that was fun to take and might lead you to do crazy, embarrassin’ things. I thought that sounded good. He warned me it would lead to a nasty sort of hangover, but that seemed like a bonus. I bought some of the drugs and put them in a cup of punch and gave it to Rena, but she said she didn’t care for it and gave it to Trey.”

  “And you were too scared to warn him not to drink the punch,” Clara said encouragingly.

  “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I’d made a mistake and I wasn’t sure if I’d get arrested or what. I figured the drugs couldn’t be all that bad if people took them at parties, and even if Trey got sick, he’d be fine by the next day, but he wasn’t. When I found out he wasn’t goin’ to play in the game because he was so sick, I told Dex what I’d done. He said he had somethin’ he sometimes used when he had to study long hours, and it would help Trey feel better. He went to see Trey and offered him the energy mix. Trey really wanted to play, so he took what Dexter was offerin’. Dexter told him to only take one little pill, but after Trey died, Dex said he must have taken more than one.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone what had happened?” I asked.

  “Why? What difference would it make? Trey was dead and there was nothin’ anyone could do to bring him back. I was scared that Dex and I might be in real bad trouble even though neither of us meant to hurt Trey. I asked Dex about it, and he said we should just keep it to ourselves. He had a degree to finish and I had a wedding to plan. Hudson and I got married that summer. Anyway, after a bit everythin’ settled down until you all came around and stirred things up.”

  Oh, Lord. What a mess. The last thing I wanted to do was get Candy or Dexter into hot water. Dexter was working on his doctorate and had a promising career ahead of him, and Candy was newly married and pregnant. But I knew I really couldn’t keep this to myself, so I did the only thing I could do: I called Deputy Savage and hoped for the best.

  Chapter 14

  Thursday, November 23

  “I’d like to make a toast,” I said as I stood at the head of the table at the first Thanksgiving dinner I had ever hosted. “When I came to Gull Island, my life was kind of a mess. To be honest, I only agreed to come as a means of escape and wasn’t sure how long I’d stay. But after arriving in this magical place, I found that I not only had a brother who I consider to be a friend but an entire community of friends who feel like so much more. I love you all and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me to find the family I’ve always prayed for.”
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br />   “Hear, hear” everyone said.

  “I also want to give special thanks to Gertie, without whom we would have been eating takeout. When I first came up with the idea to do this, I had no idea what I was getting myself in to.”

  “Thanks, Gertie,” everyone called.

  “I’d like to say something as well,” Garrett added from his wheelchair. “After I had my stroke and the doctors explained my prognosis, I thought I’d never have the opportunity to set foot in this place again. But then Jillian came and gave me a reason to try to get better, and here I am, spending Thanksgiving in the place I love. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me when Jack drove into the driveway in front of the house and I saw the ramp. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.”

  “And you think you might move back in now that the doors in the downstairs bed and bath have been modified?” George asked.

  “I’d really like to. I need to work out a few things with my doctors, but I think it might be a real possibility.”

  “No place like home, no place like home,” Blackbeard parroted.

  “You got that right, buddy,” Garrett responded. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

  “Clara has been filling in in your absence,” I assured Garrett. Suddenly it hit me. “Oh my gosh. Sick sister. Blackbeard must have been talking about Candy wanting to make Rena sick.” I looked at the bird. “How could you possibly know?”

  “Blackbeard knows a lot more than anyone realizes,” Clara informed us. “Don’t you, sweetie?”

  “Shouldn’t tell, shouldn’t tell.”

  “What shouldn’t you tell?” I laughed.

  “Secret wishes, secret wishes.”

  “I guess we all have those.”

  The conversation paused as everyone passed overflowing dishes around the table and began to eat. I couldn’t help but notice the way Rick’s shoulder touched Vikki’s, and the way Gertie was smiling at every word Quentin said. Clara was exchanging shy glances with Garrett, and I could feel Jack’s heat next to my own body. There was no doubt about it; Cupid was in attendance at my first-ever Thanksgiving.