by Maggie King
“Yeah. She’s living in Boston now. She was with her church group that night. A number of people vouched for her. Oh, and your cousins, Patty and Paul Ratzenberger—they were questioned as well.”
“That’s funny. Patty never mentioned being questioned. Why would they be?”
“As far as I know, they questioned everyone in the family. I think money was involved, but I have to refresh myself on the details. As for Foster Hayden, they had to hunt him down in Atlanta. He was visiting his mother in the hospital at the time of the murder. His alibi holds up.
“And then there’s Andy—he got a DUI in Owensboro, Kentucky that night.”
A nice alibi, as alibis go, I thought.
“I never heard of Owensboro. Where in Kentucky is it?”
“In the western part of the state.” Vince waved his hand in a westerly direction. “A ways from here.”
Vince continued. “The police questioned Rox’s neighbors, past and present. They questioned her employers from way back. No one knew anything helpful. No one at the Moonshine Inn saw anything.” I expected that bar denizens might harbor hostile feelings towards the police and close ranks. “But someone at the bar heard Rox arguing on the phone. Her cell records showed a call from Brad, placed about thirty minutes before her death. Her last call was to Nina.” Vince gave me a look of concern, but said nothing.
I rushed to reassure him. “If we decide to do this as a group, we’ll just be talking to people, seeing if there’re any possibilities aside from Brad. If not, we’re back to square one with Brad being the main suspect, with no proof.”
“Talking is one of the most dangerous things you can do.” Vince sighed. “Does Brad know that Nina talked to you?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
“I’d just as soon he didn’t know about this.”
“I’ll tell her not to let him know.”
“When are you going to discuss this with the group?”
“Tonight. We’re meeting here.”
“Again?” He groaned. “Weren’t they just here?”
“Not for a while. We’re on a rotation.”
“Pretty quick rotation, it seems. You meet every two weeks and you don’t have a huge group.”
“It motivates us to keep our houses clean. At least the downstairs. Silver lining.”
Vince smiled. “Keep an eye out for those silver linings.”
“Yes.” I predicted that I’d need a silver lining. Or two.
FOUR
THE HEAVENS OPENED over Richmond just as the book group members arrived, some carrying dripping umbrellas, others soaked, unprepared for the downpour. I placed a wastebasket by the front door to collect the umbrellas and sent the wet folks off to bathrooms where they could help themselves to towels and hair dryers.
While Morris sniffed at the umbrellas, I went to the back door to let Olive in the house. But the rain came down in sheets and I figured she’d taken refuge under a car. For as long as the storm raged, the neighborhood rodents were safe.
Once everyone dried off, they gathered in the kitchen. I waved a hand towards the table. “There’s iced tea and water. Help yourselves anytime.”
Sarah Rubottom asked, “What are you baking? It smells wonderful in here.”
“Brownies.” Thankfully, they masked the smell of the broccoli from dinner. As if on cue, the timer dinged. After testing the brownies with a knife that came out clean, I took the pan out of the oven and let it cool on the range top.
“That sure was a quick storm,” Lucy Hooper said. In fact, the tempest had now subsided to little more than a drizzle.
“Lucy, your hair looks great,” I admired my cousin’s short brown layers. All agreed that Lucy looked stunning with her new do.
Once we settled into chairs in the family room, I started, “Trudy and I had an interesting experience today at Panera—”.
Eileen Thompson cut me off. “Where’s Phyllis? Is she coming?”
Trudy and I looked at each other. I gave a short laugh and said, “Listen to what Trudy has to say about Phyllis.”
Everyone listened agog while Trudy described the brouhaha between Phyllis and Nina.
Lucy was the first to respond. “I can’t believe Phyllis would act like that.”
“I can.” Sarah crossed her arms.
Lucy looked incredulous. “The woman can be cranky about books, but overall she’s fine. I’ve always liked her. But to assault someone like that—”
Sarah shook her head. “Totally outrageous,” Her gray braid twisted behind her neck. The humidity created wisps of hair that surrounded her face like an electrocuted halo.
“Well, you haven’t heard anything yet. Let me tell you what happened after Phyllis left.” This time I took the floor and detailed the meeting with Nina and her request that I look into her sister’s murder. The group had already discussed Rox’s murder at length three months before so I didn’t need to elaborate. Aside from an occasional clarifying question, no one spoke until I finished.
“What did you tell Nina?” Lucy asked.
“I told her no.”
“Good. You don’t want to get involved in another investigation—do you?”
“No, I don’t. But Trudy and I thought maybe you”—I spread both arms in an encompassing motion—”might want to do this as a group.”
“Yes,” Trudy said. “Hazel doesn’t want to take this on alone. We all remember Carlene.”
“Yeah, we do.” We exchanged sober looks.
“Hey, this could be fun,” Lucy said.
Eileen looked doubtful. “I don’t know if I’d use the word ‘fun’.”
“Well, not fun, but, well . . . “
“Fun!” We proclaimed in unison.
“What I mean is, it could be interesting,” Lucy clarified.
“The thing that gets me is that Nina is a suspect,” I said. “So is Brad.”
“And they were an item at one time and are again,” Trudy put in.
Lucy shook her head. “Well, that’s not good. But, Hazel, since Brad is your cousin, I do understand feeling a family obligation to clear him.” She grinned and pointed at me. “Don’t look so sour.”
“Well, the man won’t even acknowledge me. But still.”
“You feel that pull of family.”
I shrugged. “I guess. And I want to see justice done.”
“Ah, justice,” Sarah intoned. “Isn’t that why we read mysteries? To satisfy our need to see justice prevail?”
“Yes, but that’s vicarious justice,” I said.
“But what about your writing schedule? You don’t want an investigation to impact that.”
“It’s okay, Lucy. I was thinking about taking a short break. I sent off my latest manuscript last week.”
“But,” Lucy pronounced, “Family or not, this absolutely has to be done as a group. By the way, what’s the current status of the case?”
“Vince checked on that today. Nothing new. The case is open but stalled. They don’t have anyone and can’t get any proof. They still suspect Brad, with Nina running a close second.”
“So Rox is your what?” Sarah asked. “Cousin-in-law?”
I nodded. “So she’s family, too. Kind of.”
“You probably explained this before, but refresh my memory: Lucy and Brad aren’t cousins?”
“Correct. Brad’s on my father’s side and Lucy’s my cousin from my mother’s side. Her mother and mine were sisters.”
“And they’re spending eternity playing bridge together,” Lucy added.
“Yes, they didn’t get along here on earth so we figure they’re inseparable now.”
We segued into stories about our dearly departed relatives and our notions of how they spent their time in the great beyond. These speculations reflected our personal beliefs, or lack thereof.
Eileen corralled us back to earth and the present moment. “I have to tell you that Nina also told me she wanted Hazel to investigate her sister’s death. I told her to get a PI an
d stop pussyfooting around.” Trudy and I looked at each other. Eileen’s report pretty much squared with what we thought she’d say. “I mean, I’m sorry about her sister, but I have my own problems.” That was true. Eileen’s mother resided in an assisted living facility and raised havoc at every opportunity with her rants about the inadequacies of the place where she clearly didn’t want to be. She kept Eileen hopping.
Eileen wiped her gold-framed glasses with a cloth from her purse. “But I can see a group investigation. I don’t have a problem with that. I just don’t want you to get involved on your own, Hazel. Not after Carlene.”
“So I can count on all of you?”
“Absolutely.” Four heads nodded.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said. “Phyllis called me after I got home.” I described that conversation.
“So Phyllis knew Rox,” Sarah mused. “Interesting.”
“She said she met her once or twice. Probably when Nina and Charlie were together.”
“They also might have known each other through VAFRE. Since they both worked in development.”
“You’re right, Sarah.” Sarah and I started to explain about VAFRE, the Virginia Association of Fund Raising Executives. But this group already knew about the regional networking organization. They agreed that Phyllis and Rox likely both belonged to it.
“Vince has a folder of articles on Rox that he’s gathered for his next project. I’ll scan them and e-mail them to you.” I summarized the contents.
“Brad’s first wife drowned?” I saw the concern in Lucy’s pewter eyes. “Oh, Hazel, maybe this is too dangerous even for a group project. This guy could be bad news.”
Sarah chimed in, “I’ll say. Maybe it’s a good thing he does refuse to acknowledge you as a relative.”
“My thoughts, exactly.” I added, “I’ll tell Nina in no uncertain terms not to let Brad know that we’re doing this.”
“But Hazel, we have to watch out for Nina as well,” Eileen reminded me.
“Right, so let’s not be alone with either of them. Or with anyone we talk to, for that matter. Either meet in public places or travel in pairs.”
“Like Noah’s Ark?” Lucy said with a laugh.
“Like Noah’s Ark,” we chorused.
“Sarah, do you see Brad at the ARS?” I asked.
“What’s the ARS?” Eileen asked before immediately answering her own question. “Oh, right, the Alzheimer’s Research Society.”
“I don’t see him often,” Sarah said. “Every now and then he stops in for something. Signing letters. And, of course, board meetings. But they’re on Wednesdays and Tuesday is my day there.”
“Do you ever talk to him?”
“Not really. Hello, goodbye, that sort of thing. I’ve never had a conversation with him.”
“I know Foster Hayden,” Lucy said. “We have lunch occasionally. He’s mentioned that incident at the movie theatre. I’ll call him and set up a lunch date, see what I can get out of him.”
“In a public place,” Sarah sternly warned.
“Yes, of course. But I’m in no danger from Foster.”
“How do you know him?” Trudy asked.
Lucy explained how she had helped Foster’s older brother, who’d had a substance abuse problem, get a job when he got out of jail. Foster and his family felt indebted and would do anything for Lucy. “Plus the law firm he works for is a good client,” she added.
Trudy said, “Refresh my memory about the movie theater.” Lucy and I together recounted Rox’s storming into a movie theater during a showing and continuing her rampage outside.
“Wow. That’s a story for the ages,” Eileen said. “How did she find them in a dark theatre?”
“Well, your eyes adjust to the darkness,” Lucy said. “And she might have seen them go in. Likely she was following them.”
“Likely the audience remembers the scene Rox made better than the one on the screen,” I said.
Trudy put in, “I remember reading about her going to Foster’s apartment and they were rolling around in the hallway.” We laughed, but these stories were as tragic as they were funny.
“Lucy, how will you broach the subject of Rox with Foster?” Eileen asked.
“Oh, I’ll think of something. Last I heard he was writing a mystery. I could say ‘I have a mystery idea for you. You could adapt it for your young adult readers.’ Don’t worry, he’s quite forthcoming. Likes drama.”
“Good match for Rox,” Eileen noted.
“And Sarah—” I started.
“Yes, I can talk to Maisie Atwater at the ARS. She was the office manager when Rox was Executive Director. When Rox left, she became the ED. Now she consults, but she’s in England right now so I won’t see her until next Tuesday. Sorry to have to wait on this.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t even told Nina we’d do it.” Despite my words I felt a sense of urgency to get going on this project. But the rest of the world wasn’t on our schedule. And it’s not like I couldn’t find ways to occupy myself. Like writing.
“Sarah, didn’t Maisie talk about Rox when she was killed?” I asked. “If she knew her, it seems like she would.”
“Probably, but I don’t remember. I don’t always see Maisie. Sometimes I have to switch days and I’m not there on Tuesdays when she’s there. So I may have missed it.”
Lucy looked at me and Trudy. “But back to Phyllis: do you think she’ll apologize? Or something?”
“I don’t know. She gave no indication that she would when she called. She just said she’d leave the group if Nina joined.”
“Well, la di dah. Let her leave.” Lucy tossed her layers and they fell back in place. Perfectly.
“I’d like to stay on her good side for the time being. I’m thinking that if we take this on, she might be a good resource because she knew Rox. And Nina.”
“Doesn’t sound like she knew them too well. Or recently.”
“Maybe Nina will wind up joining us,” Eileen said, eyes dancing. “Or we could tell Phyllis that she did.”
Trudy gave Eileen a look. Eileen, unperturbed, asked, “Didn’t Vince write about a woman who killed her brother-in-law after they both killed her sister?”
Eileen referred to the case involving Rosita Yates, a Virginia Beach woman who was murdered in 2007. I summarized as much as I could recall about the case. Rosita’s husband, John Yates, was the primary suspect in his wife’s murder but the police couldn’t pin anything on him. They got a break when Rosita’s sister, Yvonne Tripper, gunned down John, who happened to be her lover. Ms. Tripper immediately confessed to killing both Rosita and John. According to her, John, luring Yvonne with promises of marriage and access to Rosita’s vast estate, convinced her to kill her sister.
“Right,” I said. “But John reneged on his promises and laughed in Yvonne’s face when she flew into a rage at his betrayal. She retrieved her gun and put a hole through John’s chest.”
“That was his big mistake—laughing at her. That put her over the edge.”
“Don’t you think she was already over the edge, Sarah?” Lucy asked, her tone dry. “Imagine, killing over a man.”
“Maybe the situation with Nina and Brad is a replay of that story,” Eileen said. “If it is, Brad had better watch his step.”
“Maybe Nina’s the one who needs to watch out,” I said. “She doesn’t look too strong. A gentle breeze would knock her over.”
“True,” Trudy agreed. “And it seems like wielding a knife with enough force to kill a person would take quite a bit of strength. Although she wasn’t quite as frail back in March when Rox was stabbed.”
No one had anything to add to the Nina-as-stabber speculation. After a pause, Lucy asked, “What about Mary Anne? Should we ask her to join us?”
“I’ll send her an e-mail now.” Trudy dashed off her message in seconds. I envied her speed. With my knack for hitting the wrong keys it took me forever to compose on my smartphone. For me, the auto-complete feature was a godsend. And I stil
l didn’t know half the apps.
“I wonder if Mary Anne will come back here when she finishes her playwriting class,” Trudy mused.
“I tend to think she won’t,” I said. “I didn’t think she was that hot on mysteries. Nina’s taking that same class. It ends tomorrow night.”
“Is playwriting the ‘in’ thing now?” Eileen laughed. “Suddenly we’re awash with playwrights.”
“So, Hazel, will you call Nina?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, tomorrow. I have doctors’ appointments in the morning. I’ll call her after that. I need more information, so I want to meet with her again before I commit us to this.”
Trudy asked, “How often are we going to meet about the investigation?”
That’s when it hit me that I was in charge of this operation. “Let’s make tentative plans to get together on Wednesday to see where we are with things. I will have talked to Nina by then.”
“Can we meet at a coffee place? Like Taza’s? Or Crossroads?” Sarah named a couple of independent coffee houses on Richmond’s Southside.
“I love Crossroads,” Lucy said. “But it’s noisy and we don’t want to be shouting. And Taza closes early, I’m not sure what time.”
We reviewed the local coffee options, preferring a locally-owned and nearby place and needing for it to be open in the evening. But such places with evening hours were in short supply.
“That leaves us with Starbucks and Panera,” Lucy said.
“You know, I love you guys, but I just can’t spare another night to meet. How about Skype?”
“Great idea, Eileen,” Trudy said. “I can’t really set aside the extra night either. Skype will be quicker and easier. Except that sometimes I have trouble with the video part, especially if there’re more than two of us.”
“Then let’s keep it simple and just do audio,” I said. “We see each other all the time.”
“I don’t do Skype.” Sarah was our technological holdout, e-mail and a flip-phone being her concessions to the ever-changing world of communication.
“You can come over to my house,” Lucy offered. She and Sarah lived near each other.
“Okay,” Sarah sounded unenthused but offered no further objections.
