by Anne Canadeo
“I know this is all very upsetting. But I’d hate to see all that lovely food go to waste,” Maggie admitted.
“Maybe by the time we’re done, Rob will call and tell me he’s on his way home.”
“Maybe,” Maggie replied optimistically.
Lucy doubted that. She knew Maggie probably did, too, but was trying to be supportive. Detective Dunbar seemed geared up for a long chat. Rob might make it home around dinnertime, she thought.
Amy popped the platters of baked French Toast and the omelets into the microwave. The interruption had caused all the food to go cold, as well as the good spirits of their get-together.
* * *
After they’d finished the delicious entreés, Amy brought out dessert. She’d made a lemon cream pie, its tart flavor the perfect complement to her menu.
They tried not to talk about Morton’s murder, but it was almost impossible to avoid the subject.
“So what did you hear about Derek Pullman?” Suzanne asked. “You were going to tell us just before Detective Dunbar came. Did they find out he was the one who vandalized Morton’s car?”
“My friend in the security office said that it was definitely him. They caught him on a security camera,” Amy replied. “So the police questioned him again, but he has a good alibi. He left the grounds for his tennis club in town very early, and said he was there all morning.”
“Sounds solid. But he could have gone there and then left for a while, at least for long enough to push his poker-playing nemesis over the edge. I’m still betting on Pullman, good alibi or not.” Suzanne licked a bit of lemon cream from her spoon. “With all those gambling debts, and then stating publicly that he thought Morton had been cheating at the poker games? That’s a strong motive to want to see the guy dead.”
“I suppose so,” Amy agreed. “I don’t know Derek, and I certainly don’t wish anyone ill, but I did hear that his life isn’t very rosy right now. He recently lost his job as an investment banker, and his wife left him soon after. The money he owed Morton wouldn’t have been a burden for him at one time. But it probably is now. He obviously resented having to pay Morton back once he’d decided that Morton had beaten him by cheating at the card game.”
“Good point,” Lucy said. “The police might be digging into Rob’s past relationship to Morton right now, but Pullman has a much stronger motive to want Morton out of the way. They’ve got to like him better for the crime. Maybe they can’t find anything to tie him to the scene. Or maybe his alibi is holding up.”
“Maybe,” Maggie said. “But that can change quickly.”
“There are others the police might have on their list,” Dana said. “Lucy saw something very interesting last night. I think she should go to the police with it.”
“Really? What was that?” Amy lifted her head, wanting to hear more.
“I was driving everyone back last night. It was a little after two, I guess. I made a wrong turn and ended up right in front of Dr. Morton’s cottage. I saw Sam Briggs banging on the front door, and then Tanya let him in. She didn’t look happy to see him. I mean, it wasn’t like some big lovey-dovey reunion. She actually looked angry. He did, too. But she let him in, and later I noticed his truck parked a few blocks away. I suppose so the neighbors wouldn’t see it in her driveway.”
“Oldest trick in the book.” Suzanne released a long sigh. “There are plenty of people besides Rob who wanted Morton out of their life. Tanya should be suspect number one, being the disgruntled wife, itching to get divorced from her tightwad husband, who was going to send her off with bubkes from his fortune.”
A thought suddenly came to Lucy. “Speaking of itching. . . Tanya sat next to me in yoga Saturday morning, and she had poison ivy all over her feet. It looked to me as if she’d just caught it, too. Dana and I saw tons of it at the spot where Morton went over the edge.”
Dana was wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I just remembered,” Lucy replied.
“That’s significant. I think you should tell the police all this stuff, Lucy,” Suzanne said.
Maggie sipped her coffee and set down the cup. “I do, too. It might be nothing, but you never know.”
“It could help Rob,” Amy cut in. “It could help him a lot.”
Lucy had been on the fence about getting involved, but the look on Amy’s face touched her heart and melted her reservations. “Don’t worry. I’ll call and see if I can give the info over the phone to someone covering the case. I suppose Detective Dunbar might want to see me at some point, too.”
“Thank you, Lucy. Thank you so much,” Amy said sincerely.
Lucy wasn’t sure her bits of gossip about Sam Briggs’s late-night rendezvous and Tanya’s poison ivy would help Rob that quickly. But it was good to see Amy a bit more hopeful.
Lucy went into the living room and dialed the police station. She was quickly connected with Officer Hobart. He took down her information without comment, asking one or two questions to get her story straight.
“I’ll pass this on to Detective Dunbar. She may want to speak to you. She’s conducting an interview right now.”
Lucy was tempted to say “Yeah, I know,” but she put a lid on it. “That would be fine. Thanks.”
When she returned to her friends, Amy was checking her phone for a message from Rob. “They left about an hour ago. Don’t you think they must be done by now?”
Maggie, who had once been questioned by the police in connection with a murder, replied, “Everything happens very slowly at a police station, Amy. Sometimes they make a person wait in the interview room an hour or more, just to wear down their defenses and get them off guard.”
Amy nodded, her expression tight. “I understand. At least he has Walter Addison with him. I’ve seen those crime shows on TV. The police can get you to say anything if you’re not careful. But Rob has nothing to hide. Yes, he and Morton had some bad blood twenty years ago, but Rob hasn’t been in contact with him since. Even while living here.”
At least that Amy knew of, Lucy silently amended.
Lucy and her friends helped Amy clear the table and clean the kitchen. They didn’t want to leave her with a mess on top of everything else she had to worry about.
“We’re headed for the beach, Amy,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you join us? It will be a good distraction while you’re waiting to hear from Rob.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather stick around here. I want to be able to jump in the car if he needs me.”
Rob had already suggested his attorney would give him a lift home, but Lucy admired Amy’s loyalty and concern. She loved her husband very much, and they seemed to have a close, caring relationship.
Suzanne gave Amy a bear-sized, all-enveloping hug. “I’m sure he’ll get in touch soon, and everything will work out fine. Just remember, we’re a text message away. We want to help you and Rob in any way we can.”
Amy smiled, her eyes a little glassy as she stepped back. “Thanks, Suzanne. I hope I don’t have to take you up on that.”
Chapter 6
After a few more farewells, compliments on the brunch, and good luck wishes, Lucy and her friends left the Cutler’s cottage and headed to the beach.
They had brought their beach gear and wore suits under their shorts and sundresses. They headed for the cliff walk, and the long staircase that led to the beach, speculating more about Rob’s visit to the police station on the way. As they approached the spot where Julian Morton had encountered his murderer, Lucy noticed the bench nearest the crime scene was occupied.
“There’s Betty Rutledge,” she murmured to her friends. Lucy had easily recognized Betty, despite her huge sun hat and big glasses. Or maybe, because of them. She sat knitting as she serenely took in the view, chatting with a man who sat with her, his back turned to Lucy and her friends.
“We should stop and say hello,” Maggie said.
“Sure. A quick hello,” Dana said. “It’s hot out here. I’m dying to take a swim.”
Betty could ramble, once you got here talking, Lucy knew Dana meant.
“Of course, a quick hello,” Maggie agreed.
Betty had spotted them and waved gaily. “Headed for the beach, ladies? Perfect day for it.”
“It is.” Maggie led the way off the path to the bench, which was nestled between huge blue hydrangea bushes in full bloom.
“I’m happy up here, with a bird’s-eye view.” Betty turned to her companion, a man in late middle age, dressed in a blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. He also wore a large sun hat and protective sunglasses, matching Betty’s gear. “This is my brother, Ted. He came by for a visit and took me out to lunch.”
A celebratory lunch? Lucy wondered. Though she didn’t dare say.
“This is Maggie, the wonderful knitting teacher I told you about, Ted. And her friends,” Betty added. “They’re visiting for the weekend.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ted took in Lucy and her group with a pleasant smile.
After hearing the horrid story about Ted’s injuries, it was hard not to look for evidence of the accident. Despite his hat and large sunglasses, Lucy noticed a patch of red scarring on the left side of his face that trailed down his jaw and neck. She saw the same angry red scars on his left arm, all the way down to his fingers. She felt rude staring and quickly looked back at Betty. He had learned to live with his disfigurement, but it couldn’t have been easy.
She wondered if her friends were thinking the same thing.
“Nice meet you, too, Ted.” Dana shifted her tote bag to her other shoulder. “Betty told us that you live in Moody Beach. Is that a resort town, too? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of it, but I don’t know Maine very well.”
“It’s not far, less than an hour’s drive. Depending on tourist traffic,” he added. “It’s a quiet spot. But we’re right near Kennebunkport.”
“Kennebunkport’s fun.” Suzanne smiled, then fanned her face with her hand. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d better get down the beach and under an umbrella, before I melt. Enjoy your day.”
Lucy watched Suzanne head back towards the walk, obviously hoping everyone else would take the hint and follow.
Maggie smiled at Betty. “We’d better go. I hear that staircase takes time to navigate.”
“Oh, it does,” Betty agreed. “Watch your step,” she warned.
A good slogan for Osprey Shores T-shirts, Lucy thought.
“We will,” Lucy promised. “See you.” She picked up her knapsack and left with the rest of her friends.
The beach access was only a short distance further down the path and Lucy found Suzanne waiting for them. “I thought we should tackle this together,” Suzanne said.
Lucy thought she was exaggerating. She peered over the edge. “Wow, how many steps down do you think there are?”
“One hundred and fifty-seven,” Phoebe replied. “I asked someone when I walked down on Friday.”
“That’s a lot of steps, but it’s a beautiful day. A little exercise after that brunch won’t hurt us,” Dana said.
“Not one bit. I’d like to take a long walk on the beach, too, if we get a chance. It’s such a great day, and what a spectacular view.” Lucy set down her tote bag and put on a pair of sunglasses.
“Beautiful view, slippery footing. That’s the story of this place.” Phoebe peered down the long staircase again. “I suggest we tie ourselves together the way mountain climbers do. Just in case someone slips, and the law of gravity takes over.”
“Don’t be silly, Phoebe. We’ll be fine. All those people on the beach made it down safe and sound. See?” Maggie had set down her beach bag a moment, but picked it up again. Lucy couldn’t argue with her. Quite a few residents had come out to enjoy the sun and water today. But maybe they had arrived via helicopter . . . or parachute?
“We’ll be very careful,” Dana promised. “Why don’t you go last? This way you won’t feel rushed.”
“I’d rather go second to last, so someone can grab my shirttail if I look like I’m going over.” Phoebe had not suggested who that sympathetic someone might be, but she glanced at Lucy with wide, beseeching eyes.
“I’ll walk behind you. I’ll watch every step.” Lucy shifted her striped canvas tote onto to her left side, to free up her right hand for shirttail grabbing. Though she doubted it would come to that. She hoped not, anyway.
The stairs were steep, narrow, and extremely long, with many switchbacks. With Phoebe’s fear of heights and all the talk about Morton’s deadly fall, Lucy could understand why she was nervous.
Suzanne led the way, at an uncharacteristically slow and careful pace. “You get dizzy if you stare down. Then again, I don’t want to miss a step. Maybe we should have taken the car and gone the long way around.”
“We’re almost halfway, just keep going,” Dana said.
“It was clever of Morton’s murderer to lay in wait while he jogged on the cliff,” Maggie said. “But these steps would make for an easy fatal fall as well.”
“I was thinking the same,” Lucy said from the back of the line. “But the cliff walk has more hiding places, with all the shrubbery.”
“True, but a killer could wait on one of the switchbacks, and sort of duck down until the victim arrived.”
“I get the point, Mag,” Phoebe called out from her spot. She’d taken off her heeled slides and was going it barefoot, taking each step with great care. “It’s hard enough to get down these steps without having to worry that someone might jump out and push me over. And I think it would be more constructive if you talk about the murder that actually happened.”
“Very true,” Lucy said. “What do you think of Betty’s brother? I found their viewing point an interesting choice.”
“Practically the spot where Morton went over. I thought of that, too.” Dana seemed the least disturbed by the staircase and followed Suzanne with a light, agile step.
Maggie walked steadily. But looked a bit off balance from her bags. “I know it’s awful to say, but they must feel vindicated by Morton’s murder.”
“To put it lightly,” Suzanne called over her shoulder. “I bet her brother came to celebrate. They were probably doing a jig. Ding-dong, the witch is dead.”
Similar thoughts had crossed Lucy’s mind, though she wouldn’t have put it so bluntly.
“Celebrating Morton’s death? Or pulling off his murder?” Dana’s voice was so quiet, Lucy hardly heard her. “Betty and her brother have plenty of motive and Ted looks fit enough to have subdued Morton, and pushed him over.”
Lucy had noticed that, too. Ted wasn’t young, but younger than Betty and in fairly good shape.
Lucy was relieved to see the beach come closer. “I wonder if the police are exploring that angle. Betty said she told them the story. Maybe she and Ted have solid alibis.”
Dana looked back at her. “I’d still be curious to hear what their alibis are. Especially his. Something about the sight of the two of them, sitting in that particular spot, looking so cheerful and at peace . . . it gave me the creeps.”
When she put it that way, it gave Lucy the creeps, too.
Suzanne paused to fix her sandal, so Dana paused, too. Causing a standstill all the way back to Phoebe. And so close to the bottom. Lucy felt annoyed but took a calming a breath.
When she stood up again, she said, “We’re all assuming that Betty did tell the police about her dark history with Morton. Maybe she didn’t.”
Lucy hadn’t thought of that. “Good point. I guess we could check somehow.”
“We could,” Dana agreed. “But it might be easier for Rob’s attorney to make sure the police know about Betty and her brother, and their dark episode with Morton.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Suzanne had finished with her sandal and started down the last few steps. “I’ll text Amy as soon as we get settled down here.”
Lucy felt relieved to hear that. She had quickly crossed Betty and her brother off her list, but now, she was not so
sure.
They had finally reached the beach. She had lost count of the steps at one hundred and thirty-three and already dreaded climbing back up. Maybe she didn’t need that beach walk, after all.
They quickly picked a spot at the water’s edge, where they found beach chairs and lounge chairs set up around umbrellas. The canvas fabric was classic Osprey Shores blue, with plenty of mermaid emblems. Just in case you forgot where you were.
A short distance away, two teenage lifeguards—a girl and a boy—sat in a high chair, staring out at the beautiful blue waves through dark glasses. A snack stand and shower house were also close by, not far from the staircase.
“I feel so bad for Amy, leaving her to wait all alone,” Phoebe said.
“I know what you mean. But some people need to be alone at a time like this. They don’t want any company.” Maggie had spread a towel over her chair and removed her cover-up.
“Amy was always like that in college. When she got a bad grade or was stressed by something, she hibernated,” Suzanne recalled. “I sent her a note about Betty and I’ll check in with her again soon. Maybe I’ll drop by the cottage on our way home later.”
“Good idea.” Lucy glanced at her watch. It had been over two hours since Rob had left with the police. She wondered what was going on, and why Detective Dunbar was so intent on questioning him in a formal interview at the station. Was he a person of interest in the case? That would be serious.
Lucy and her friends decided not to talk about Rob’s situation or Morton’s murder for the rest of the afternoon. It seemed to Lucy they all needed a break from that topic. The breaking waves, shining sun, and soft cool breeze reminded her of why they had come to Osprey Island. Not to solve a murder case.
* * *
Lucy stretched on her lounge chair, and slowly opened her eyes. She’d been reading a book and had drifted off.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Suzanne greeted her. “Did you have a nice nap?”
“It was lovely. This lounge is supercomfortable. I still have a few aches from our dance-a-thon.” She sat up and rubbed a calf muscle.
“While the cute little bride-to-be was resting, I had an inspiration. Why don’t we hit the spa today for some pampering? You could get a massage and a pedicure. I could really use a facial. Everyone should try something. It’s our time to indulge ourselves.”
