Murder Outside the Lines

I fed Peaches in a hurry the next morning. Dressed in jeans, an oversized dusty turquoise sweater, and a slightly darker vest, I locked the door and rushed to the bookstore.

It was quiet when I arrived. I doubted that even the Professor was there yet. I could feel my heart pounding, although the rational part of me knew that the coloring book probably didn’t mean a thing. Some child had probably dropped it on the way home. If that were the case, I could return it.

On the other hand, what if a child hadn’t dropped it?

I turned the alarm back on and ran upstairs to the office, where I did the bookkeeping. The receipt was dated the same day that Hilda had come to the bookstore. It wasn’t difficult to track. Several copies had been sold that day. Coralue had paid cash. The receipt in the coloring book indicated payment by credit card. Three people had paid by credit card but only one matched that receipt exactly. It had been bought by Finley Brimble.

I sat back in my chair. What did it mean, if anything at all? Had Finley dropped it? Had he given it as a gift, maybe to his girlfriend, and she dropped it? Or had it somehow come to be in the possession of Mags Delany’s husband and was unceremoniously thrown out on the driveway?

I didn’t know when it came to be there. It could have been well after Manny’s murder. Still, I called Eric to let him know.

He was sweet and not dismissive as any cop who didn’t love me would have been.

I needed coffee.

I locked up and dodged across the street to my favorite coffee shop. I had just picked up my pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin muffin when Finley’s girlfriend walked in.

I hustled to a corner table and set my purchases down. Pretending to need more napkins, I sidled up near her. I had no idea what I was going to say and blurted, “Hi! You’re Finley’s friend, aren’t you?”

She looked straight into my eyes. “I can’t talk with you.” She looked around, clearly fearful. “I’ve been to your bookstore. You seem like a nice person. I’m glad Roxie has a friend like you. But please. If you have an ounce of kindness in your heart, please go away.”

She turned quickly and walked out of the store at a determined pace. The clerk behind the counter yelled, “Hey, lady! You forgot your coffee.”

She didn’t stop or look back. I wanted to catch up with her. That fear hadn’t been an act.

I knew the clerk fairly well. As casually as possible, I asked, “Did she pay by cash or credit card?”

“Is her name on it?”

“Yeah. Rebecca Porter.”

“Thanks.” I sat down with my latte and looked up Rebecca Porter on my phone. Swell. There were over four hundred on LinkedIn and many more than that on Facebook.

Was she afraid of Finley? As I bit into the moist muffin, it dawned on me that she might be married, too. What a mess.

I sipped on my latte and sketched Rebecca’s face on a napkin. Maybe I had been going about this all wrong. I had been trying to connect the murders and attacks. Could I be overlooking the obvious?

Cyril’s throat had been slit. The assailant had removed a priceless clock from the house. Had he meant to steal the clock? Then why not grab it and run?

Manny had been rolled in a rug, possibly obtained from Mags’s driveway. My coloring book, purchased by Finley, was also found there.

Manny had been sloppily buried in Coralue’s yard. Why hadn’t the foot been buried? Because it happened at night or because the killer was being hasty?

Manny had a new job working for someone wealthy. That might be true or it might not.

Ellis had been choked from behind, much like the two previous attacks. But it happened at his front door. He had been transported to an obscure location, callously dumped and covered with leaves. That was definitely different from the attempt to hide Manny’s body.

Balthus had been attacked in his own home. I didn’t recall anyone mentioning that the door had been forced open. Had Balthus opened the door to someone he knew and trusted? Or had he opened it expecting the man who was interested in buying his music system? It was also notable that he was chloroformed, not attacked from behind as the others. Why had the killer switched his method of killing?

I finished my muffin and doodled on the napkin where I had drawn the face of Finley’s girlfriend. Next to her face I drew his, but not the handsome, dimpled face that I knew. The sneaky weasel face I had glimpsed. That brief moment had been etched in my head. It was as though I had caught a glimpse of a dark side that I didn’t know he had.

And now I had to tell Roxie about seeing him with the other woman last night. I dreaded that.

I folded the napkin and stashed it in my pocket as I left. From the doorway I could see that Color Me Read was open for business and one of our regular customers was opening the door to go inside.

I walked home slowly, all kinds of absurd thoughts running through my head about the murders. At Coralue’s house, the fall scarf on the butler waved in the wind, giving her display a somewhat comedic flair. As I gazed at it, Coralue emerged from her front door, pulling a grocery tote on wheels behind her.

“Florrie! Your pumpkin cookies were a big hit with my grandchildren.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I was just admiring your Mr. DuBois. It was a stroke of genius to add the scarf. It gives him so much character.”

“I think so, too. I’d like to take credit for it but it wasn’t my idea. Someone else wrapped it around his neck. I came outside and there it was.”

Chill bumps rose on my arms. “A stranger?”

“I really don’t know. I just thought it was creative and amusing.”

“Coralue, do you remember when it happened?”

She took a deep breath. “Does it matter?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Let’s see. When did I first notice it? Hmm. He had it on when we discovered Manny. So I think it was around then. Should I remove it?”

“No. In fact, I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch it at all.”

She frowned at me. “It couldn’t have anything to do with the murder . . .”

“I’m not sure.” I walked closer. It was tan and chocolate brown, with a fine line of cranberry running through it. I had sketched this scarf. But who had worn it? “Have a good time shopping. I’ll see you later.”

She watched as I abruptly left her and hurried home. I burst into the carriage house, alarming Peaches, who watched me run to my sketch pad. I flipped pages back quickly and promptly found the scarf. It was Finley’s.