A Murder in Mohair (21 page)

“A very good workout. Lots of hills. Lucy is going to kill in Boston, in her little blue dress.” Dana took a chair nearby. She had remembered to pack her knitting and had stowed it in a small saddlebag that hung from her rear wheel. She set it on a table and started on her smoothie first.

Lucy had not brought her knitting, though she was eager to finish her tote bag project. She felt too hot to knit now anyway.

She wanted to tell Maggie about spotting Daphne Mullens, Cassandra's daughter. Possibly Cassandra's daughter, she corrected herself. They didn't know that for sure.

Just as she was about to bring it up, Edie called from the gate. “Hey, girls . . . I just had a minute, thought I'd run over.”

“Hi, Edie. Do you need anything?” Maggie watched her walk up the path. “How's that baby jacket coming?”

“That little sucker is done. Working on the booties now.” Edie sat in the porch swing, just about filling the love seat width. She fanned herself with a pattern sheet, left over from Knitting Camp.

“Want some iced tea?” Maggie turned to a large pitcher set up on a table nearby, along with some glasses and thin butter cookies.

“That would be delightful. I never get such good service back at the Schooner. Water, water everywhere. Never a spare minute for a drink,” Edie murmured, mangling the famous scrap of poetry. She sipped gratefully on the cold tea, ice cubes, and lemon slices bobbing in her glass and then set it down.

“Well, I've got some news,” Edie said finally. “You girls aren't the only ones in town with your ears to the ground.”

Lucy smiled at her. “I think you caught the bug from us.”

“Not from me,” Maggie interjected. “I'm no longer contagious.” She pressed a hand to her chest and offered an innocent look.

“What did you hear, Edie? Something about the investigation into the psychic's death?” Dana asked.

Edie shook her head. “Nope. About Jimmy Hubbard. You've all heard he was probably dealing drugs out of the theater, right? Charlene Vertucci, that reporter for the
Plum Harbor Times,
was just eating lunch at the counter. She told me the police have brought in a guy for questioning who may have killed him. They're calling him ‘a person of interest,' but we all know what that means. They're only ‘interested' when they think you're guilty.”

“Not necessarily. But fairly often,” Dana conceded. “Who is it? Did Charlene know?”

“I can't remember the guy's name. It's some fellow who works at a Quik-Stop sub shop near the highway. The police are looking for him right now. They say this guy was coming around a lot to see Jimmy, always at the back door. The boy who worked there told them that. They think the drugs were involved in some way. Either buying or selling them. And something went sour between them.”

“Sounds like a strong lead,” Dana said. “I guess we'll hear more on the local news tonight, if it pans out to anything.”

“Do the police think this sub shop clerk is connected to Cassandra's murder, too?” Lucy asked.

“The reporter didn't say. But I hope so.” Edie shook her head and put her glass aside. “I don't care who killed Jimmy,” she said bluntly. “He was no good, getting kids hooked on drugs, and got just what he deserved, in my book. I just want the police to find the person who killed Cassandra. They're starting to ask my poor niece too many questions. I don't like it. It makes me very nervous.”

With a hand pressed to her chest, she took a fast sharp breath. Lucy glanced at Dana, ready to spring into some emergency CPR.

But Edie soon sat back and sighed, swinging back and forth and fanning herself again.

“There's been a development there . . . between Nora and Richard. Very bad,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “I don't know how they'll ever come back from this.”

Lucy knew immediately what she meant. A knot of nerves massed in her stomach. She stared at Maggie but her friend didn't turn her head to meet her gaze, her attention focused on Edie.

Edie sighed and stopped the porch swing. “Richard was telling Cassandra things about Kyle. Things the boy might say and do. So that Nora would believe her. To make her feel happier, Richard says,” Edie slowly explained. “Did you ever hear of such a thing?”

She stared around at the women, who stared back with blank expressions.

“We know, Edie,” Maggie replied finally. She glanced at Lucy. “Richard told Lucy the other day. It's a long story why. But Lucy told us the other night, at our meeting. I intended to tell you. But frankly, I think it's better that you heard it from Nora first.”

“So you all knew before me?” Edie seemed shocked and maybe even angry. She stared back at Maggie.

“Just since Thursday night,” Dana clarified.

Lucy felt most responsible for Edie being kept in the dark, since she had known the longest. “I'm sorry, Edie. We all thought Maggie should be the one to tell you. I guess she just didn't get a chance.”

“No, I didn't. Yesterday morning when I came to the get iced coffee, I tried. But we got interrupted,” Maggie reminded her.

Edie thought back, and her eyes narrowed. Then her expression relaxed and she nodded. “I did get the feeling you wanted to tell me something. And you never drink cold coffee in the morning, no matter how hot it gets outside. So that seemed fishy, too.”

Maggie smiled a little. “Sometimes I do . . . but I was really there to talk to you. I'm sorry I kept that from you. Even for a day. Can you forgive us?” she asked sincerely.

Edie sighed and shrugged. “Oh, whatever . . . I'm never one to kill the messenger. And you weren't even the messenger, were you? The one to be smoking mad at is Richard. And that wretched witch, Cassandra. I don't have much steam leftover after that.”

“How is Nora taking this?” Dana asked.

“She's beside herself. She didn't even believe it at first, when he told her.”

“Richard told her?” Lucy asked.

“He had to. The police called them both in for more questions and Richard knew that was the reason.” Edie paused, smoothing out her big flowered dress. “Funny thing is, Nora had taken to her bed over Cassandra. She was practically catatonic over it. But now she's full of piss and vinegar. I hardly recognized her voice on the phone. She was down for the count one minute, then jumped back up, swinging away.”

Lucy had expected Nora to fall into an even deeper emotional decline over the news of Richard's betrayal. She was glad to hear that hadn't happened.

“So the anger has . . . animated her?” Maggie said.

“That's right. Perked her right up,” Edie replied.

“Interesting,” Dana said, sounding curious. “Is she still seeing her therapist?”

Edie shrugged. “Said she didn't need that anymore. Though she may need to find a good marriage counselor. Richard's moved into the antique shop. Talk about a guy who has to sleep on the couch. He's got his pick. He can try a new one every night. Though those old sofas are lumpy and scratchy. I'd never have an antique couch in my house. What's the point?” Her rambling wound down and she sipped again at her tea.

Lucy and her friends exchanged glances. None of them spoke. “I'm just worried about Nora,” Edie repeated.

“Because of this radical mood swing?” Dana asked.

“Because she was the last one to visit Cassandra. The last one on the list, anyway. Because she doesn't have a good alibi for the rest of the night. She went home and took a sleeping pill and went to bed. She didn't wake up until the next morning. Dale was out. He went to a party after work. Richard dropped him off, and went back to his wood shop. Then he went to get Dale at the party on his way home. Nora was home alone all that time. The time they say that Cassandra was murdered.”

Nora's lack of an alibi was alarming. But what motive would Nora have to take Cassandra's life? She had no idea of the awful hoax Cassandra and Richard had been playing on her. Not at that point.

“What does Richard think about this—all the police attention focused on Nora? Are you speaking to him?” Maggie asked gently.

“I don't want to. But I don't have much choice. Dale is still working for me, and I can't help but see Richard, twenty-four/seven.” She stood up and smoothed her dress and hair. “He apologized to me and explained his side of the story. Have to admit, I felt sorry for him. He did a damn stupid thing,” she added quickly. “But the man's been sort of broken since Kyle died. Knowing how sick Nora has been, I don't entirely blame him. Is it fair to judge anyone by one stupid act?” She shrugged her big shoulders. “I know it's hard to believe, but I've screwed up plenty of times. Times I wouldn't want people to judge me on.”

“That's true, Edie,” Lucy said. She felt the same about Richard. Some of the time, anyway. “But what does he think about the police questioning Nora?” Lucy asked again. Edie seemed to have lost focus on that point.

“He's worried. He doesn't want her to talk to them again without a lawyer.”

“They haven't called a lawyer yet?” Dana asked. Lucy could tell she was trying not to sound alarmed. But she didn't do a great job of it.

“They will now. Even if I have to find one and pay the bill,” Edie said.

“And what about Richard . . . are the police questioning him more?” Lucy felt uncomfortable asking the question. But she wanted to know. With this latest revelation, Richard had as much motive to kill the psychic as Nora did, if not more.

Edie met her glance, then looked away. It was hard to guess what she thought of speculation in that direction. “No. The police are not hassling Richard. Just Nora. He was here in town, working the whole night. After he dropped Dale off at a party, he went back to the shop to finish a dining table and chairs he had to deliver the next day. He was making so much noise that a tenant came down and had a talk with him. Just about the time they say Cassandra was killed. People saw him going in and out, loading his van with the furniture.” Edie shrugged. “He's covered. It's poor Nora who's got no way to prove she was out like a light, all night.”

Lucy nodded, feeling almost sorry now that she'd asked the question. Edie looked so upset all over again about Nora. But at least, she knew. “I see . . . well, maybe something will turn up. Some way Nora can prove she was home all night.”

“I hope so, though I don't know what that would be. Hey, I've got to go. They'll be sending a search party out for me in a minute.” Edie glanced at her watch, a bubble-gum pink digital model with a rubber wrist strap. It looked as if she had borrowed it from a granddaughter. She squinted down at the face, then put her glasses on to double-check.

Lucy wondered what had happened to the watch she usually wore—a man's watch, an expensive one, too, with a thick gold band and large face with sweeping hands and Roman numerals. It had belonged to her father, Edie had told them, and Lucy had rarely seen her without it.

Perhaps the battery needed to be changed, or the band broke. It was an impractical accessory for someone who ran a diner.

Lucy and Dana said goodbye and Maggie walked Edie down to the gate, gently holding her arm.

“This has been a shock for Edie, too,” Maggie said when she returned. “Never mind Nora. Our dear friend is not getting any younger.”

“Do you really think the police suspect Nora?” Lucy asked her friends. “She wouldn't hurt a fly and would have never harmed a hair on Cassandra's head. I don't believe she'd be capable of bashing someone's head in with a big rock.”

“Not the night Cassandra was murdered. Though she's probably feeling incredibly angry and betrayed now,” Maggie said.

“I also think the police are on the wrong track, focusing on Nora,” Dana said. “Even Richard had more reason to want to end Cassandra's life. She was practically extorting him. But he also needed her to keep the hoax going. Even though he may have hated her, and hated how she was manipulating him, I don't think he would have ended their charade so abruptly. Or so violently. I think he would have put more thought into it. Made it look like an accident maybe,” Dana mused.

“Either way, it sounds like he has a solid alibi for the time Cassandra was murdered,” Maggie reminded her.

“He does,” Dana said. “Nora is the problem. She has no way to verify that she's telling the truth about where she was and what she was doing.”

“Let's hope the person of interest in the Jimmy Hubbard case ties in to Cassandra's case in some way,” Lucy said. “Maybe Cassandra was in on the drug dealing, and this disgruntled sandwich shop clerk took revenge on both of them. Didn't you say the police had found a connection between Jimmy and Cassandra?”

“Yes, he'd made at least two appointments with her. Maybe they were business meetings and not psychic sessions. Maybe selling and distributing drugs, and this store clerk, all fit into the puzzle.” Dana returned to her knitting. “The police will be happy to solve two murders with one clean sweep.”

“Will they ever,” Maggie said. From her tone, Lucy could tell she was not seeing Charles tonight for their usual Saturday night date. Perhaps he'd be coming by very late, after work? But Maggie looked so out of sorts at the mention of the subject, Lucy didn't want to ask.

Lucy made a mental note not to miss the local news tonight. If the case was solved with the apprehension of the sandwich shop clerk, Maggie would be very happy, too.

*  *  *

Lucy rarely watched
the news on Saturday night, but she and Matt had stayed in, watching a movie, and when eleven o'clock rolled around she suddenly remembered the sub shop clerk.

Matt was already on his way upstairs, collecting his sneakers and a denim shirt that was hanging over the back of a chair. “Coming up soon, honey?”

“In a minute. I just want to get the coffeemaker ready for tomorrow and check something.” She did begin putting up the coffee, while listening to the newscasters' banter, trying to deliver the day's fairly dull events in a lively way.