Homicide by Hamlet (Cozy Mystery) Book #3 (Chubby Chicks Club Cozy Mystery Series) (12 page)

“If Priscilla was pregnant in high school, and if as you and I suspect that Winona is her daughter, do you think that had any bearing on Priscilla’s death?” Bezu asked me.

“I’m not sure. But it certainly could add an interesting twist.” I looked at the nearby wall clock. “Listen, the competition starts soon. I’ll see if I can dig up anything that might help validate or negate our hypothesis.”

She laughed, “It all sounds so scholarly and scientific.”

“Or half baked.” I winked.

The audience filled the theater auditorium with the sound of loud conversation. I made my way backstage. Each of my team members had on their costumes and theater makeup, and they stood in the wing ready to take the stage.

“Break a leg,” I said to them.

They smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

“I hope nothing breaks, or worse,” Umika said to me.

“Remember, I have you covered. And all you need to concern yourself with is your performance,” I reassured her.

Umika gave me a faint smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Winona. I went over to her and said, “How are you holding up?”

“With what?” Winona asked.

“All that’s happened this week. And now with all the work Dwight has you doing.”

“Fine.” She adjusted her glasses.

Noting her big hazel eyes, I remembered Priscilla’s had been the same shape and color. I was convinced Winona was Priscilla’s daughter. Perhaps if I inquired a bit I could find out for sure if my hunch was correct.

I didn’t have time to delay. I needed to get answers today before camp ended. I was never one for subtly anyway. “You know the saddest part about what happened to Priscilla is that she never had any children.” I concentrated on Winona’s expression.

Her neck flushed as she looked at the ground. “Yes, it’s a shame isn’t it?”

Her body language shouted how right I was. Her words said that I was wrong. What did I believe?

“Quite a pity really,” I said. “She was such a stunning woman, and her hazel eyes were one of her best features.”

Winona narrowed her eyes as she stared at me.

“Now that I think of it, you have the same eyes too. What a coincidence, huh?” I verged on being blatantly brash.

A bell rang announcing the start of the competition.

“Good luck to your team, Dr. Maple.” She spun around and scurried away.

Dang it. I had gotten one step closer to getting an answer, then, been yanked back ten steps. I was glad that I’d chosen a career in academia rather than detective work, since I was proficient at one and not the other.

While my team performed, I stood vigil off the right wing, watching their every move and kept my eyes on all the potential hazards. The ghost of Hamlet’s dad flew, via pulleys, on stage without incident; the smoke machine went off twice, on time and flawlessly. When they finished, held hands and bowed for the standing ovation, I took a deep breath. I’d probably been holding it throughout their entire act.

Thankfully, the team made it through without anyone getting killed, as Umika had dreamt, and they’d performed brilliantly.

As they walked off the stage, I congratulated each of them. The last two off were Wilbert and Umika.

“We did it,” Wilbert said to me as I followed him backstage. He turned toward Umika, “See, I told you that your dream meant nothing.”

She frowned at him. “Oh no, it definitely meant something.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s over, and we did great. And now we should take a seat in the auditorium and watch the other teams.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said.

Wilbert strolled off. Umika stayed behind.

“Aren’t you going with him?” I asked her.

Umika squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s there again. The angry, hurt, small animal. Or it could be a child. I sense a strong presence.” She opened her eyes. “Dr. Maple, you don’t think I’m weird do you?”

“Not at all. But I do think it’s been a long week, with a lot of stress. Why don’t you join your team in the auditorium and watch the other performances?” I suggested, hoping to get her mind off her worries.

“Thank you for keeping us safe,” Umika said before she left the backstage.

Spotting Dwight near the dressing room, I headed over to him. “I was thinking about your question.”

“What question?” Dwight asked as he glanced at his cell phone.

“Earlier, when you asked me how well I knew Priscilla.”

“Oh, that.” He looked past me over my shoulder. “Have you seen Winona?”

“She was here about a half hour ago,” I continued. I just had no time to wait and needed to jump right into my questioning. “I wonder how well any of us knows anyone.”

Dwight’s forehead creased. “Huh?”

“I mean, can you imagine getting married to someone, thinking you know everything about them, believing them when they say they never had children. Then wham on your doorstep one day someone appears claiming to be their child?” My statement was hard-hitting, but I had no idea how else to find out if Dwight knew Winona and Priscilla were mother and daughter.

He jammed his cell phone in his pocket. “Did that happen to you?”

“No.”

“Then you really have a warped imagination. I have no idea where you came up with that or where you are going with it.”

“So, you haven’t heard?”

He let out a loud breath as he glanced up. “What?”

“There’s some gossip floating around here.” I waved my hand. “About Priscilla having a daughter. It’s Winona.” I didn’t tell him it was my rumor going around in my own head.

Dwight’s jaw tightened. “A daughter?”

“Yes. I mean, of course this is just hearsay. It might be nothing at all,” I added.

“Then you need to stop spreading it like manure, that’s what I think,” he said. “And mind your own business.” He stomped off.

Shaking my head, I walked away.

He seemed a little rattled when I’d mentioned the possibility of Priscilla having a daughter. Conceivably, it could change who had the rights to Priscilla’s inheritance.

Did Dwight know that his fiancée might have a daughter? If he did, was he jealous when he found out about Winona, and in a fit of rage killed Priscilla? Did he kill her for the insurance money?

All I knew for sure was that he was a scoundrel. After all, he’d shown his true character when he’d taken a bribe to walk away from marrying Bezu. Not that her father offering the bribe was any better, but Dwight had taken the bait, grabbed the money and ran. He was an opportunist, and for him, money took precedence over people.

And that put him number one on my suspect list.

Standing in the wing, I watched each of the remaining teams perform. They were all imaginative and well prepared. Thankfully, Priscilla’s team pulled off a great performance without her.

After the last team’s curtain call, I heard a loud thud, like a metal object hitting wood.

Spinning around, I saw smoke rising from behind the set.

Grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher, I turned the corner and saw Winona on the floor, body askew, glasses lying beside her.

My team’s smoke machine was on its side, spewing smoke into the air, emitting a burnt caramel scent.

“Are you okay?” I knelt beside Winona.

Her eyelids twitched and she coughed. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

I propped her up as a crowd gathered around us.

“What happened?” I held her head.

“I’m not sure, but someone hit me from behind.” She massaged the back of her neck. “With some sort of hard object.” She motioned to the smoke machine. “Could’ve been that.”

Gerald came to my side. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Winona got whacked in the head, probably by that.” I pointed to the special effects machine near Winona.

He shut off the device and returned to us. “Let me call an ambulance.”

“That’s not necessary, I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up is all.” Winona stood.

Retrieving her eyeglasses, I handed them to her. ”Did you see who it was?”

“No.” She slouched. “Who would do this to me?”

“Was there anyone back here with you?” I asked her.

“No.” She brushed the dirt off of her clothing.

“Did you see anyone?” I asked.

“Come to think of it, Dwight was by the dressing room.” Winona gestured behind her.

“He was? Do you think that he had anything to do with this?” I asked.

She shrugged. “He’s always been a little jealous of me and the time I spent with Priscilla.”

“How has he been treating you?” I asked.

“He’s piled a ton of work on me, and I’m doing it because I feel obligated.” She rolled her shoulders.

“Why?” I asked.

“Priscilla had already paid me for the week, and I’d feel bad if I quit after what happened.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hmm.” I glanced around and didn’t spot Dwight anywhere. I needed to talk to him. Perhaps it was coincidence that I had mentioned the possibility of Winona being Priscilla’s daughter to him, and shortly afterward Winona got knocked down, and he just happened to be in the same vicinity.

Maybe he did this to Winona, and also killed Priscilla.

Or maybe not.

I’d find out.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. Are you sure that you don’t need any medical attention?” Gerald asked Winona.

“I think two aspirin will do the trick.” Winona said. “Actually, I’m going to take them now.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.

She smiled weakly. “Thank you for your help.”

“All right everyone, everything’s fine here,” Gerald announced, “Let’s break it up. See you all back here this evening for the closing ceremony and competition results. Remember it’s a formal event, so that means no jeans or T-shirts. Great job, everyone.”

The crowd dispersed, leaving Gerald and me alone.

“So, I guess this week in camp will go down in history.” I made small talk as I tried to navigate our new relationship terms.

“I’m glad Winona’s okay.” He glanced around, as if sizing up the area. “Thank goodness. But what a scare, huh?”

“You got that right, definitely scary. When I heard a crash and saw smoke, I was sure there was a fire.”

“You like to go out with a bang don’t you?” He chuckled.

“It’s the only way to go.” I smiled.

“I’ve got to finish up some things before the ceremony.” He held my hand while looking into my eyes. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

My knees felt weak and I murmured, “Me too.”

Bezu ran up to me. “I just heard about the accident. What in tarnation is going on here? Are you okay?”

“Everyone is fine, but Winona got hit on the back of the head.”

“Is she okay?”

I nodded.

“What did she get hit with?” she asked.

“A special effects machine.” I pointed to it.

She put her hand on her chest. “Who did it?”

Scowling I said, “I have a hunch that it was Dwight.”

Bezu drew in a breath. “Good gracious!”

“This has been a bizarre week,” I said.

“My Lord, bizarre is right!” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Priscilla and Dwight nearly got run over by a wayward car, my car. Then poor Priscilla died. Then you got hit by that ghost prop, and now this.”

“Thank goodness camp is over today, it seems like the whole week has been cursed.” I paused. “Maybe by the small angry child or animal spirit Umika keeps sensing.” I explained Umika’s recent vision to Bezu.

“There aren’t any animals or small children here,” she said.

“I know. But when Umika talks about it, I believe her.” I sighed. “I mean, in my heart I know that she’s one hundred percent convinced it was real to her.”

“And for her to sense that the spirit is angry? It gives me goose bumps.” Bezu rubbed her arms.

“I know. Too bad she couldn’t sense the name of the person who caused all the chaos this week. That would make it a lot easier.”

“Right.” She pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail. “What are you going to do next?”

“Talk to Dwight. It’s the final day we’re all here. So it’s my last chance,” I said. “Unless you want to talk to him?”

“No thanks,” Bezu said. “I’ll let you have the pleasure.”

“That’s only because you know it’s anything but pleasant talking to him.” I gave her a playful push.

She grinned and gave me a dismissive hand wave. “I guess I’ll get back to work. You have fun with my ex.”

I found Dwight leaning against a wall near the janitor closet. A broom, mop and bucket stood outside the door. “Did you hear what happened to Winona?”

He stopped tapping his cell phone. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t hear what happened to her?” I studied his expression, hoping I could tell if he was sincere or not.

“Hear what?” He shoved his phone in his back pocket.

“Someone hit her in the head and knocked her down.”

His eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

“Yes, and I was wondering if you knew anything about who could’ve done that to her?”

“Why would I?” His mouth twisted.

“You never know.”

Dwight frowned. “You think I did it?”

“I heard that you were in the area when she got hit.”

“But not when it happened, I left her a while ago.” He stifled a yawn.

I shrugged. “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, and here for that matter.”

Dwight’s eyes narrowed. “Are you quoting Hamlet to me?”

I pressed a little more, hoping to further rile him. Often people blurted out the truth when they were angered. On the other hand, some people just wanted to punch something when they got angry. I was rolling the dice, hoping he would do the former of the two. “I’m just saying, anytime I ask you about your involvement in Priscilla’s death, or really anything, you doth protest too much, methinks.”

“C’mon, now! Another Shakespeare quote? You’re really a piece of work.” He threw his hands in the air, his voice rising. “I can see why Priscilla couldn’t stand you. With all your superiority bullshit.”

I kept pushing. “Dwight, I get it, if you did something out of desperation.”

“Me? Why do you think that?”

“Just a theory. Please hear me out. One minute is all I need.” I was a steamroller unable to stop.

He shook a finger at me. “You’re crazy.”

“Let’s say you got backed into a corner. Maybe you were in deep financial straits, and Priscilla bailed you out. Except, that still wasn’t enough to pay off your debts. You had to get more money, a lot of it, like from a life insurance policy.”

“You know what I think of your theory?” His face reddened, as he leaned into me. “That you need to get the hell away from me. You’re a freaking lunatic.”

“But now is the time to tell the truth, to clear this up.” Was his angry reaction because I’d hit a nerve? Or because my insinuations were wrong? “Level with me, did you or did you not have anything to do with Priscilla’s death?”

He grabbed a nearby broom and held it in the air.

I readied myself so I could kick him in the groin if he tried to attack me. I’d have him crying like a baby in no time.

No one messed with me.