Fit to Die (22 page)

“But I saw her at the Brunswick Stew Dinner. How did she have time to start the fire and get to the dinner?” Lindy asked.

“She was pretty late getting there,” James said. “I know because I was one of the last people in line for food and she was right in front of me.” He thought back to that evening. “I remember her making a point to speak with Mrs. Lowndes and Mrs. Emerson. She must have been making sure there would be witnesses who could attest to her presence at the fundraiser. Still, she would have had plenty of time to dump some liquor on the shirts, light them up, and drive to the fundraiser. She even mentioned the shirts to the other two ladies.”

“Yeah!” Carter shouted. “Ronnie must have found out that Pete remembered her from the Red Cross scam so she got him loaded and then set fire to the building! Poor Pete. Then she just sits down and eats like nothing happened. What a sicko.”

Lucy nodded. “That’s about right, from what we can figure out using the evidence we have combined with Dylan’s statement. Of course, Dylan felt horrible about Pete, but it didn’t stop him from wanting his revenge. According to his statement, when he went back to Ronnie’s for another date, he noticed a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes on the windowsill of her kitchen. He asked her about them and she said she only smoked when she drank. The Star had printed every tiny detail about the Polar Pagoda fire and Dylan remembered that the butts found at the scene of the fire were Pall Malls. He then knew that Ronnie had deliberately set fire to that building knowing Pete was passed out inside.”

“Do you think that’s why he held her under in the bath tub?” Lindy asked, both intrigued and horrified. “Because he was angry about Pete’s unnecessary death?”

“I do,” Lucy answered soberly. “I think it nauseated Dylan to get physical with Ronnie, so he wasn’t able to plot her demise until they had had a few more dates. On that Monday she called in sick to work, Ronnie was at home and in perfect health preparing her place for a night of romance. That’s why there were candles everywhere you looked.”

Bennett chuckled. “Looked like a fire hazard if you ask me.”

“Dylan had obviously led her to believe that they were going to sleep together. He got her good and drunk on wine, followed by the spiked Jack Daniels,” Lucy continued. “According to his statement, Dylan suggested they take a bath together but he never ended up removing any clothes. As soon as he saw her chameleon tattoo he knew for certain that Ronnie was Stacy. He had seen the same tattoo when she wore a bikini while sunbathing in their backyard.” Lucy smirked. “I guess that was the perfect tattoo for such a changeable person. Anyway, he felt taken over by vengeful anger and that was that. Ronnie was pretty far gone when he grabbed her ankles and held her under, but not totally.”

Everyone reflected on the body in the bathtub.

James still had one question about the evidence. “If Ronnie was a smoker, why didn’t anyone find cigarettes in her townhouse after her death?”

“Dylan took the cigarettes with him the night of the murder and smoked every single one of them on the way home to Harrisonburg to calm his nerves.” Lucy dabbed at her lips with a paper napkin. “And Ronnie didn’t have an ashtray. Dylan claimed she used regular drinking glasses to catch the ash and then just put them in the dishwasher. I think she was kind of a neat freak.”

The group finished their ice cream and lapsed into silence, each pondering the shocking events that had taken a hold of their little town that spring.

Lucy stood and walked near the wreckage of Willy’s former business. The bright yellow tape put out by the fire department had faded from a lemon to a buttery hue. Even the black lettering warning “Fire Line Do Not Cross,” had turned to a dull shade of gray. She rubbed the tape pensively with her fingertips as her friends noted the solemn expression on her face. “Maybe you should be naming a custard flavor after Pete instead of me, Willy,” Lucy said. “It seems like we’re the only ones left to keep his memory alive. Us and dear old Fred Wimple.”

Willy drew Lucy away from the tape. “None of us will forget about Pete. I’ll get a plaque made for him and hang it when I set up shop again. Let’s turn our thoughts toward havin’ long, lazy summer days with one another.”

“Here, here! That’s enough talk of murder!” Gillian declared. “Aren’t we really here tonight to celebrate?”

“Yeah, Willy,” Bennett nudged his friend. “What gives with the easel? You going to start painting and end up a millionaire like James’s pop?”

“It’s no painting, it’s a sketch of my new ice cream parlor. The Town Planning Committee approved my proposal this afternoon.” He lowered his voice and grinned crookedly. “Word had it that a Mrs. Savannah Lowndes was on vacation this week, so I rushed in my plan and it got passed by just one little vote.” Willy chuckled with glee. “Y’all ready to see the design for the all-new Custard Cottage?”

“Yes!” his friends yelled in unison.

Willy whipped off the sheet to reveal a colored drawing of a violet Victorian cottage, complete with a white picket fence and loads of creamy gingerbread trim that seemed to drip down the building like warm icing. Giant-sized lollipops and gumdrops in a rainbow of colors dotted the roof and side walls of the building. A path made to look like pinwheel mints led to the double front doors. Four café tables with striped umbrellas were set outside, and the trash cans were shaped like enormous ice cream cones.

“I feel like Hansel,” James said as he admired the sketch. “That place looks good enough to eat.”

“I’m going to carry bulk candy as well as frozen custard and ice cream. That’ll help me pay the bills during the winter.” Willy looked at his friends. “Construction starts at the end of the month.”

Lindy put an arm around Willy’s back. “This is wonderful, Willy! We are all so glad that you’re staying in Quincy’s Gap.”

Willy harrumphed. “Well, I’d better sell a hell of a lot of ice cream this summer, ’cause I gotta pay extra for the fancy new sprinkler system I’m having installed!”

“I say the Custard Cottage is enough excitement for the town of Quincy’s Gap this summer,” Lindy commented wryly. “Personally, I think we all need some peace and quiet for a change. I’m going to lose a few more pounds and then spend a week at the beach, turning my bronze skin a few shades darker.”

“I’m going to study for that exam,” Lucy announced and Carter gazed at her with admiration. She smiled in his direction and then added, “Since you seem to know so much about crime, Carter, maybe you can help me study.”

Carter looked very pleased as he nodded his agreement.

Bennett thumped manfully on his chest. “Carter isn’t gonna have too much free time, Lucy. He and I are gonna start a post office bowling league. It’s about time someone took on those boys from the DMV. They’ve won the league trophy five years in a row.” Bennett flexed his arm. “Now that I’m gettin’ some muscle tone back, I think I can whip a fourteen-pound ball down the lane.”

“Looks like I’ll have to hire someone to take Willy’s place with Pet Palaces,” Gillian sighed. “That might take the whole summer to do. Your kind of creative instinct and positive energy isn’t easy to find, my dear friend. You don’t have a twin, do you?”

Willy laughed. “Aw, shucks. Don’t go makin’ me blush. No, I’ve got a sister, but she’s not too handy with tools. She can cook up a storm, though, when her nose isn’t stuck in a book. Speakin’ of books … what about you James?” Willy asked. “Got any immediate plans for the summer?”

James shrugged. “I haven’t thought too far ahead, but I know what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m going to drive to that big mall in Charlottesville and go clothes shopping, something I usually hate doing.” He tugged at the waist of his chinos and was able to hold several inches of extra fabric out in front of his stomach. “For the first time in ten years, I actually want to go buy a new pair of pants.”

Acknowledgments

The author would like to thank the following people for their expertise: Holly Hudson; Deputy Chief Louis Aroneo of the Stirling Fire Company, Stirling, New Jersey; Jessica Faust of BookEnds; and the team at Midnight Ink. As always, thank you to Tim, Owen, and Sophie for bringing me joy and to the rest of my family for cheering me on.

About the Author

J. B. Stanley has a BA in English from Franklin & Marshall College, an MA in English Literature from West Chester University, and an MLIS from North Carolina Central University. She taught sixth grade language arts in Cary, North Carolina, for the majority of her eight-year teaching career. Raised an antique-lover by her grandparents and parents, Stanley also worked part-time in an auction gallery. An eBay junkie and food-lover, Stanley now lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her husband, two young children, and three cats. Visit her website at www.jbstanley.com.