Book Fair and Foul (Ashton Corners Book Club) (22 page)

“Sounds like he’s the reason she’s in such rough shape,” Teensy mused. “Maybe you shouldn’t count on him for anything.”

Patsy made a tsk-tsk sound. “This is not at all what I meant when I said they should make themselves at home.” She tucked the empty sherry bottle under her arm. “I guess I’d better break out a new one for the real sherry hour. If you’ll excuse me.”

“No problem, Patsy. We’ll just be going. See you later,” Molly said, pulling Teensy out of her chair and following Lizzie around to the front of the house. “We should have tried to keep her downstairs and talking.”

“That was quite a surprise. We’ve just seen the other side of Caroline. Maybe that side was willing to commit murder,” Lizzie mused.

Molly shook her head. “I’d say from what we suspect, it’s Lorelie who should be the victim, in that case.”

“Unless Caroline was being blackmailed and she killed Ashley, rather than pay to keep the news about an affair quiet. She may not have wanted to be known as the woman scorned,” Lizzie said.

Teensy snorted. “Tosh. I’m sure Caroline could dish it with the best of them. She’d just make sure to muddy Lorelie’s name so that none of the other facts would matter.”

Lizzie stopped and looked at Teensy. “That’s a downright cynical thing to say.”

“Realistic, you mean. Now, you knew Ashley,” Teensy continued once they were in the car. “Who do you think she’d target with the blackmail?”

“If she did try to blackmail someone. We only have Gigi’s word that’s what happened.”

“Do you think Ashley was capable of it?” Molly asked.

Lizzie paused. “I’d like to say yes because she certainly didn’t have any scruples about the other stuff but blackmail is really in a different league. I’m not sure.”

Teensy replied, “You are going soft, girl. Think the worst until proven wrong.”

Molly burst out laughing and Teensy soon joined in. Lizzie shook her head and started the car.

*   *   *

C
aroline sported sunglasses even though the talent show was indoors, in the basement of St. John’s Evangelical Church and at seven at night. She also walked gingerly up to the second row of chairs and took her place next to A.J. and Lorelie. They sat facing the stage. The first row had been reserved for the musical talent, those with instruments in particular. Gigi had bowed out saying she had a viewing to attend. Research and all.

Even the colors Caroline wore were muted, green and shapeless, while Lorelie dazzled in bright orange from her lipstick to her sandals. A.J. was his usual dapper self in a cream suit with pale blue shirt and polka-dot bow tie. He looked a lot more confident than the last time Lizzie saw him, as he nodded to her. She hoped for the best.

Lizzie sat at the back of the room, along with Andie, at a table displaying the authors’ books. The entire back wall had tables set up along it, some with CDs being sold by family members of participants, some artwork and needlepoint, even a variety of pottery. Lizzie checked the program. Judy Ginn, listed as number seven, would demonstrate pottery techniques.
Hmm, that could be odd but interesting.

The master of ceremonies, the newly elected mayor, Harlan Tucker, welcomed everyone on behalf of the Ashton Corners Service Club, explaining all the proceeds from the tickets, and part of the money from the sale of items, would be going to the scholarship fund for children of fallen military personnel. Everyone applauded with enthusiasm.

The first two slots on the program belonged to an accordionist, ten-year-old Mikey Mason. Lizzie remembered him from last year at school, a kid with absolutely no interest in reading even though he had the ability. It seemed this was where his interest lay. After a piano solo, A.J. Pruitt stepped up to the stage. He searched the crowd and seemed to focus on someone near the back. Lizzie tried to figure out who it was but couldn’t from her position. He read an action-filled scene that included a lot of witty dialogue and the audience cheered enthusiastically when he finished. He gave a gentlemanly bow and returned to his seat.

By the time Caroline’s turn came around, she seemed to have perked up somewhat, at least Lizzie thought she had. Lizzie looked around the room and spotted Carter at the far side, last row. He looked none too pleased. She wondered what had been said between the two earlier in the day. Oh, to have been a fly on that wall.

Lorelie seemed quite pleased to be the final participant. She’d shared her strategy with Lizzie earlier. This was new territory, a totally untapped source of new readers, and she planned to wow them. After ten minutes of background about her career and the Southern Fashionista series, she ended with another dramatic reading. That sent the audience rushing to the back to buy her books and after signing for a good fifteen minutes, Lorelie left with the mayor and his wife.

Lizzie started packing away the unsold books, did a quick tally of sales and gave the cash to Molly. Bob appeared at the right moment and loaded the boxes into his SUV.

“I think that went very well,” Molly said as she gathered up her lightweight pashmina. “The authors all seemed happy, even poor Caroline. That must have been a chore for her.”

Bob nodded. “If ever someone needed the hair of the dog, I’d say it was that woman. Now wouldn’t that have been a performance?” They left chuckling.

Lizzie thought about Caroline all the way home. Something must have happened to push her over the edge earlier in the day. Was it the pressure of having to remain in Ashton Corners while the investigation continued? Was she guilty of murder and finally got blindsided by guilt? Or did it have to do with Carter?

That was a possibility. Given what Lizzie suspected, it was quite possible that Caroline also had her suspicions, had seen a half-hidden touch or embrace somewhere along their touring. But somehow, Ashley didn’t ring true as her target. It should have been Lorelie. Or maybe even Carter.

Lizzie pulled into her driveway and turned the key. She sat in silence, thinking. Carter had a lot to lose, too. And from what she’d witnessed, pleasant and bland Carter had a hidden side. He’d looked like he wanted to throttle Caroline earlier in the evening.

But if so, she should be dead and Lorelie should be consoling Carter.

Did anything make sense?

Fresh kills or cold case, the pursuit of killers had to be relentless. It was the only way to go and the only way Bosch knew how to go.

THE BLACK BOX
—MICHAEL CONNELLY

L
izzie finished her second espresso while waiting for her waffle to finish cooking. She’d hardly slept all night and had decided to abandon any pretense at five
A.M.
The cats followed her down to check out their dishes but had disappeared upstairs as she pulled her running shoes on. She’d had a long run followed by a refreshing shower and now had enough time to savor a leisurely breakfast.

She knew Lavenia was an early riser so she tried giving her another call. This time she answered on the third ring.

“Good morning, Lavenia. It’s Lizzie. I wanted to update you on what I’ve learned.”

“Good morning. I’m so glad you called. I was wondering what was on your mind after your message.”

Lizzie quickly brought her up to speed. “I know it’s all on the circumstantial side but it does point to Ursula Nesbitt. Would you like me to confront her with this information and see if she admits it?”

Lavenia was quiet for a few moments. “No, dear. I think I should be the one to do that. I do thank you and want you to know that I really appreciate all you’ve done. Nathaniel will, too.”

“Are you going to tell him now?”

“Yes. I think he has the right to know, especially since we know who did it. She is the person, isn’t she?”

“I’m pretty certain,” Lizzie said.

“Good. I’m glad that’s all over. It’s been causing me many sleepless nights. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m just glad I could help. Good luck.”

After hanging up, Lizzie took her now-cold waffle out of the waffle maker and decided that was as good a way to eat it as any. She topped it off with almond butter and jam, thinking all the while about how love, or rather lust, made people do irrational things.

Ursula wanted Nathaniel for herself, or so it seemed. To get him, she tried at first to make it seem like her warnings were for Lavenia’s own good, then quickly progressed to good old-fashioned blackmail when that didn’t work. You drop him or I tell on him.

She bit into her waffle. Was love at the basis of Ashley’s demise? Had her mama’s indiscretion ended up with the daughter’s death? She finished her waffle, trying to make some sense of the thoughts flitting through her mind. Fay Huxton-Parson had intimated that Ashley tried to blackmail her or, rather, the family. Had Ashley tried the same trick with someone else? The Huxtons weren’t the murdering type. Why would they be when they could buy their way out of any scandal? Or as Richard Huxton-Parson had said, just move on.

But had Ashley latched on to another someone who wouldn’t pay? Or couldn’t? And if so, what was she blackmailing this person about?

Lizzie quickly rinsed off her plate, her mind spinning. Forbidden love. What better motive for murder? The phone rang, snapping Lizzie out of her thoughts. She answered but was anxious to get out the door.

“Lizzie, it’s Patsy. I thought you’d want to know that Caroline is standing in the front hall, her bags packed, demanding that I call a cab for her. She’s in a real state and determined as all get-out to leave here.”

Uh-oh
. “Thanks, Patsy. Maybe you should call the cab but ask him to come in about twenty minutes. I’ll give Chief Dreyfus a call and get right on over there.”

It sounded like Caroline had reached her breaking point. Would that change anything? She dialed Mark as she headed out to the car and passed the message along.

She beat him to the bed and breakfast but didn’t get a chance to question Caroline before Mark entered through the front door.

“Ms. Farrow, I understand you’re wanting to leave,” he said without preamble.

Caroline glared at Patsy who hastily backed out of the hall and went to the kitchen.

“Yes. I’m leaving right now.” She almost stamped her foot as she said it.”

“Well, as I told you right from the start, I’m not holding you here against your will. You’re free to leave at any time. However, you might wonder how that would look to me just as I’m about to wrap up this investigation. It might even make me think you had something to hide. Maybe even a murder.”

Caroline huffed, “I don’t. No. It’s not me. I’m no murderer.”

“I’m just saying.” He stood his ground and stared at her.

She was giving it some thought when Carter stumbled down the stairs. He completely ignored Caroline and the others, making a beeline for the dining room. Caroline glared at his retreating back.

If looks could kill, Lizzie thought.

Caroline opened her mouth to speak but instead, grabbed her suitcase and headed back upstairs, brushing past Lorelie who was also fully dressed and coming down.

“Oh, Chief Dreyfus, just the person I wanted to see. Tell me, dear,” she said, hooking her arm through his as she reached his side, “is it all right for me to leave town today? I’ve got so much to do, so many fans to be seeing. I really do have to get moving.”

“Well, ma’am,” Mark said, “like I was just saying to Ms. Cummings, it might just look a bit suspicious to me if you were to leave town just as I’m about to make an arrest.”

“An arrest. Do tell. Who is it?” Lorelie was all sugar and sweetness.

“I will tell. When I’m ready.”

Lizzie thought that if the “ma’am” didn’t make Lorelie a bit worried, Mark’s tone should. Lorelie sniffed then disentangled her arm and stomped back upstairs, saying nothing.

Mark looked at Lizzie and raised his eyebrows.

“Interesting morning,” was all she said.

He followed her outside. “How about a coffee and you can fill me in before you head to work?” he asked.

“Make that breakfast and you’re on. I had to bypass a second waffle to get over here.”

“I always knew that food was the way to your heart,” he said, walking her to her car. “Oscar’s Diner?”

She nodded, got in and headed to the restaurant. When she checked her rearview, Mark’s Jeep was right behind her. Lizzie took the last parking spot in front of the restaurant and watched while Mark pulled a U-turn and parked across the street. They found a table for two in the far corner, away from the tables overlooking Main Street, always the first to fill up at any time of day.

As soon as they were seated and fresh cups of coffee placed in front of them, Lizzie said, “Are you serious? You’re about to make an arrest?”

“Well, I may have been exaggerating a bit but I didn’t want them skipping out just yet and I don’t have enough evidence to hold any of them here.”

“But you have some evidence?”

Mark took a long sip of his coffee and just stared at Lizzie.

“You at least have some idea of the murderer’s identity?” she demanded.

“I have my suspicions.”

Lizzie held off quizzing him some more until they’d given their orders to the server. When Mark seemed disinclined to share any more information, she filled him in on the previous day’s events. He let out a slow whistle after hearing all about it.

“So, are you saying the Huxton family is now off your suspect list and someone being blackmailed by Ashley Dixon is on it?” he asked.

“When you put it that way, I haven’t crossed anyone off but after what Gigi told me and after seeing Lorelie and Carter, I’m wondering.”
And then there’s A.J.

“Two people you thought were Lorelie and Carter.”

“Huh? Uh, there is that. I didn’t get a clear look, but how many people are there who look like them?”

“Let me see, two people in their late sixties, gray-haired male, red-haired female, obviously a dye job.”

“All right. But what’s all this behavior about if there’s not some hanky-panky going on?”

“Hanky-panky?”

Lizzie made a face. “You know what I mean.”

Mark waited until their breakfasts had been served before continuing. “Yes, I do know and you may very well be right. But there’s got to be more than someone suggesting a motive and a possible extramarital affair.”

“Evidence.”

“You got it.”

“So why haven’t you told me about your suspicions?” Lizzie asked as she pushed her cup to the edge of the table, hoping for a refill.

“Because as I’ve said before, I am the cop. You are not. There are certain things I cannot tell you while an investigation is active.”

Lizzie frowned, not quite sure where to take the conversation.

“However,” Mark finally continued, “I’m not fully satisfied with their alibis and I’m equally satisfied that the murderer was not a local person. I had a long talk with Ms. Huxton-Parson and am convinced she’s not a murderer nor did she hire one.”

“Huh. And you let me go through all the telling about what I’d discovered?”

“It’s always good to have confirmation, and remember, I told you I don’t have to share my information with you.”

Their food arrived and Lizzie eyed her mushroom omelet and tomato salsa with anticipation. “What about Nick Jennings? He didn’t have an alibi, either.”

“There are security cameras at the Ashton Inn and he couldn’t have left his room without being seen. While the B and B does not have any such cameras.”

Mark reached for the pepper grinder at the same time as Lizzie. She let her fingers rest on his for a moment.

“Am I still on that list?”

He put the grinder down and squeezed her hand. “Are you trying to seduce an officer of the law?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Fine, and you’re not really on it.”

“Not really, what does that mean?” She added the pepper to her omelet with vigor.

“It means I can’t officially remove you from the list, but you’re at the bottom and not a serious contender.”

She thought a moment. “Good. Later tonight?”

His eyes lit up as he dug into his steak and eggs.

*   *   *

L
izzie was glad she’d thought ahead and brought her school supplies with her earlier. She slid into a desk at the back of a fourth-grade class just as the teacher was about to start with the reading portion of the morning. Lizzie had been asked by the teacher to observe a couple of students whom she felt were having difficulties but were trying to cover it up by acting out. Nobody but the teacher and the kids sitting next to Lizzie noticed she’d arrived. She sat silently throughout the next hour, making a few notes that she’d turn into a work plan for the teacher by the end of the day.

She slipped out and went to her desk to start working on it. By noon, she’d referenced some extra reading materials for the teacher and was well on her way to sketching out a few tricks to get the two kids in question more involved. Her cell phone rang as she was about to head to the lunchroom. She hadn’t realized she’d forgotten to turn it to vibrate.

It was Molly. “Lizzie, honey, I’m so sorry to bother you at work but I’m hoping you might take a few minutes of your lunch hour to meet me at the Quilt Patch. Caroline Cummings just called me and said she has a confession to make.”

“Really? About what? Do you think she was being blackmailed by Ashley? Or is she the murderer?”

“All I know is that’s what she said,” Molly said, anxiety in her voice.

“All right. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, I’m on my way. I’ll see you there.” She hung up without saying good-bye, a sure sign she was distressed.

Lizzie reversed her direction and headed to her car. She pulled up behind Molly’s Audi about six minutes later. She grabbed her handbag and was about to exit when she noticed Carter leaving by the side door of the B and B looking like he was taking great care not to make any noise closing the door. She watched as he got into his car, backed out and headed in the opposite direction. This looked interesting.

Why was Carter leaving when his wife was obviously in emotional distress? Was she about to rat him out? Lizzie felt her pulse rate accelerating as she threw the gearshift into reverse, deciding to follow him. She hung back as far as she dared, hoping not to lose sight of his Sebring. He turned left and then right on Broward, heading out of town. By the time she’d rounded the first curve, Carter had turned into the parking lot at the White Haven Funeral Home. Lizzie stopped on the verge behind a tree and walked the rest of the way, wondering what he could be doing here, at the scene of the crime?

He’d pulled in next to a black Toyota Verso and held its passenger door open, talking loudly as he slid in. Lizzie couldn’t get much closer without being seen so she hung back and pulled out her cell phone to call Mark. And tell him what? That she had now fixated on Carter Farrow as a suspect and she decided to follow him?

The thing was, this did look suspicious. He was meeting with somebody in a strange car and it wasn’t Lorelie this time. So what was it all about? Maybe something totally private and not associated with the murder, which is what Mark would probably tell her.

It did seem odd they’d be meeting here, though. The funeral home was usually closed on Wednesdays except for emergencies. What was so private that it needed to be said away from everyone? She switched her cell to vibrate, shoved it in her pocket and looked for some way to angle around to get a better look at them both. She had to dive for cover when Carter abruptly got out of the car, but she was close enough to hear him yelling.