Chapter Thirty-Three

Shelby had mentally prepared herself for the book club on Tuesday night, or at least she thought she had. Having been blindsided on her last visit by questions about her investigating the murder of Loreena Swan, Shelby had come up with a few noncommittal statements about this new murder. Or maybe she should tell all and see where it led. These people absolutely breathed mysteries, and last time Leonard had directed Shelby to his daughter, a local hairdresser who did have some useful information. It could happen again. She just didn’t want them to get so invested in it that they might go out on their own and check on details. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. Would it? Nobody did that. Except me.

She took a deep breath before she knocked on Trudy’s door. It was opened almost immediately by Leonard.

“Oh, Shelby, my dear. We’re so glad you could come tonight. Juliette and I just arrived a few minutes before you. Let me take your jacket.”

Shelby slipped out of her lightweight Columbia jacket and handed it to him. “Thank you. I sure timed it right.”

He gave her a full smile and then ushered her into the living room. Shelby did a quick mental count. Still missing one. Who was it? She tried to remember all the names and was just about to ask when it came to her.

“I see Patricia isn’t here yet,” she said, accepting a glass of fruit punch from Trudy.

“No, she’s not. She phoned to say she’s running late, so we’ll just start with the snacks and hopefully she’ll be here in time for the book talk.”

Trudy looked a bit on the harried side, Shelby thought. Not quite as well put together as she usually was. The extra little flip of her gray hair on the left side might have been deliberate, after all. Or maybe it was just a bad hair day. But who was she to say? She thought of her own disordered mop of tangles. Trudy’s home looked amazing, as usual, with lots of colorful flowers in various nooks and crannies.

Shelby chose a chair next to Dolly. Although Shelby pegged her to be in her late seventies, early eighties, she had a youthful glow that almost screamed healthy lifestyle gal. It also helped that she had a style of her own. Not the flamboyancy of Edie, but lots of floating tops in pastel colors and casual pants in beige and creams.

“How is your sister?” Shelby asked, raising her voice a little. She’d remembered from the last time that Dolly sometimes forgot to put in her hearing aids. “I understand she’s in the hospital.”

Dolly patted her hand. “Yes, dear. She has to have a new knee. I miss having her around each day, but I do manage to get over to see her on a daily basis. I hope she’ll be home soon, but on the other hand, I’m sort of worried about having the responsibility of her recuperating at home with only me around, you know what I mean?”

“Absolutely. It could be hard on you both. Is there someone else, a family member, who could help out?” Shelby refrained from adding someone younger.

Dolly shook her head. “Sadly, we’re the only ones left in Alexandria Bay. The younger ones have all moved away, but we do see my niece, our niece, and her husband at least once a year. They run a small business, a cleaning service, so are never able to stay too long. They live in Syracuse, you know.”

Shelby saw the sadness in Dolly’s eyes and felt at a loss for what to say next. It didn’t seem right that as some people aged, they had to face it alone. They were no longer in the middle of the family network. Or so she imagined. She realized that would have applied to Edie, also, before Shelby arrived.

Trudy interrupted her thoughts by passing a dish of sweets to her, asking that she pass it around. Shelby stood and walked over to Juliette. “How about a cookie or a Danish to start the evening?”

“Oh, yes. I see that Trudy must have stopped at Trailbaker’s today. My favorite pastries. Do you think I can be a piggy and take one of each?” She looked up at Shelby, a sly smile on her face.

“Definitely. And how are you this evening?” She noted that tonight Juliette wore a decidedly Christmasy green-and-red fascinator, with a sprig of holly poking out at the side. Shelby hoped it was artificial; otherwise it wouldn’t survive until the holidays. She’d realized that last time they’d met, it had been obvious that Juliette enjoyed dressing up for any occasion and considered a fascinator to be a fashion must.

Juliette sighed. “I’m feeling stressed out about Christmas already.”

That explained the holly. “Why? It’s still September.”

Leonard chimed in from his seat beside her. “Oh, she usually has all her shopping done by now, but we seem to have been sidetracked this year. Next, she’ll be starting to look for new ornaments for the tree and around the house. Juliette loves Christmas, don’t you?”

He glanced at Juliette before continuing. “That reminds me, Felicity Foxworth has some of those hand-painted ones with Christmas designs in stock. I saw them when I stopped in there yesterday.”

“She does? Thanks for telling me.” Juliette’s eyes were bright. “That may be a help, having them out so early. You see, Shelby, as Leonard said, I’m a real nut for Christmas and everything that goes with it. I volunteer at the hospital mainly to help put up the decorations.”

“That’s great, but it doesn’t help if you’re getting overly stressed.” Shelby didn’t get it, but realized that this year she’d better get into the spirit of the season. Fortunately, that was a ways off, regardless of what Juliette was planning.

“Just have to start pacing myself, that’s all. Of course, I’m involved in so many other activities. If I’d have known I’d be so busy, I would have retired much sooner.” She started laughing and was soon joined by the others.

Leonard held his glass up in the air. “To retirement.”

“You can see we’re quite a feisty group,” Dolly said, as Shelby offered her another pastry before setting the plate down on the coffee table.

“I can see that, and I’m totally impressed. You all rock.”

That brought on a new round of laughter as Shelby sat back down.

“We’re also very mentally astute, so if you need any help with investigating this latest murder, you just let us know,” Leonard added.

Shelby almost choked on the sip of punch she’d just taken, although she should have been prepared for the comment. “And just what makes you think I’d interfere in a police investigation, once again?”

“Lucky guess.” Dolly spoke first and was joined by the others in another round of laughter. Shelby remembered that book club for these folks was one-third book talk and two-thirds joviality.

When the doorbell rang, Trudy hurried to open it. In a few seconds, both she and Patricia appeared.

“So sorry I’m late, everyone,” Patricia said. “Nice to see you again, Shelby. I’d love a glass of punch, Trudy, and oh my, are those Trailbaker treats?” She grabbed a Danish and took a bite. “Oh, yes, I’d recognize this taste anywhere.”

She sat on the love seat next to Trudy. “Now, fill me in on what I’ve missed.”

“Not much, really. We were waiting for you before we start in on the book.”

“That’s nice of you, but I meant, what’s the gossip?” She brushed a wisp of hair back from her forehead—a move, Shelby guessed, to draw attention to the latest colors in her hair. This time, she had large swaths of copper and dark-brown streaks highlighting her basically completely gray hair.

Shelby tried to hide a smile. She remembered Patricia now. She was more than a hair model. Gossip must be her middle name. Maybe this was her retirement hobby.

Trudy tried to keep things on track. “Nothing, really. Now, who all has read Lies and Deaths: The A.R. Smith Story, written by Savannah Page?”

All hands went up. Patricia spoke first. “Of course we did. We wouldn’t be able to set foot in your house again if we hadn’t shown up for the signing. We all know that. And of course, never buy a book you don’t intend on reading.”

Shelby’s eyes flew to Trudy, who was smiling.

“I’m glad you all realized that,” Trudy said, chuckling. “Now, rather than do a presentation on the book, I’ve asked Shelby to tell us some things about both signings. She also had supper with Savannah and her fiancé on Friday night, so we’ll get to find out a bit about an author at play as well as read her work.” She paused. “Her death was a tragedy. Shelby?”

“Right. Again, thanks for inviting me. I really do enjoy your gatherings. So, now, on to Savannah Page. I met her for the first time at the Friday afternoon signing at the main store. As you would have noticed, since you all attended, it was a very busy couple of hours, with Savannah doing a short reading and signing.” She took a moment for another sip of punch. As had been the case ever since the murder, Shelby found it unsettling to think back to meeting Savannah. It was much easier just to talk without thinking. She realized that feeling would probably be with her for many months to come.

“That reminds me, Shelby,” Juliette interrupted, “how is your aunt? She couldn’t be there because of a fall, right?”

Shelby was grateful for the diversion. “That’s right, but she’s recovering nicely. In fact, she’s as keen as ever to get back to work.”

“And that lovely Taylor?” Patricia asked. “Just how is she doing these days? I hear she ended up in the hospital. I hope everything is okay with the pregnancy. It would be such a shame if she lost another baby. Of course, she’s carried this one much further, so it should be okay, shouldn’t it? Not that I’ve had a baby, so I’m not speaking firsthand here. She’s in my prayers. You can tell her that.”

Shelby nodded and then spent the next ten minutes filling everyone in on what was happening with the staff and at both stores, not quite what she’d expected to be doing.

“Trudy, I’m told that your daughter Erica is dating the author’s agent. Are they getting serious?” Patricia asked.

Trudy looked uncomfortable as she shifted a bit in her seat. “Erica is quite her own woman and doesn’t always tell me things like that, but she did say they had been out to dinner.”

“Isn’t he one of the main suspects?” Patricia continued. “I’m sure you must be worried about her welfare.”

“As I said, Erica is an adult and makes her own decisions. I don’t, and never would, object to someone she chose to date. Now, as you were saying, Shelby.”

Shelby picked up her cue and told them about her dinner out with Savannah and Liam, embellishing a bit on some of the details, nothing important and purely for entertainment. She wrapped up with a comment that almost brought tears to her eyes.

“Those two days of signings were, incredibly, the busiest for the stores in what looks like a long time. And it was such a pleasure meeting Savannah.”

Nobody said anything for a few moments, but then Trudy asked for comments about the book itself.

“I have a question for Shelby,” Patricia said.

Uh-oh.

“Why did the board allow her to stay overnight in the castle? And, I guess just as importantly, why would she want to? Okay, so that’s two questions, but what do you think, Shelby?”

Not a question Trudy had asked for, but Shelby was prepared for this part. “As for why she was allowed, you’ll have to ask someone on the board. She said she wanted to stay there for research purposes, to get a feel for the place. Her new book was to have been about Joe Cabana’s stay on the island, and his death.”

“Do you think she believed in ghosts?” Dolly asked, sounding the most excited Shelby had heard her all night. “I ask only because Mimi will want to know anything that has to do with them, not that I’m a believer.”

Shelby hid her smile. “It sounded like she might have.”

Patricia leaned forward, pushing her copper-colored bangs away from her eyes. “Your aunt is on the board. What does she say about it?”

“She hasn’t been able to go to all the meetings, as you can imagine with her knee.” Shelby knew that didn’t really answer the question, but she hoped someone else would jump in.

Juliette did. “I heard that Jenna Dunlop was spitting nails at the signing. It had something to do with the new book she’s writing. Someone said Savannah had stolen her idea. Is that right?”

Everyone turned to her.

“Where did you hear that?” Patricia demanded.

“Oh, I’m not sure. Someplace around town.”

“Jenna Dunlop isn’t a real author,” Patricia replied. “I’ve heard she publishes her own books, isn’t that right, Trudy?”

“That’s not always the way to judge an author. She’s just chosen another way to get her work into print. Have you read any of her books?”

“No, I haven’t. I didn’t realize they were actually available. Do you have them in the store?”

Trudy looked a bit flustered. “Well, no, we don’t, but that’s a distribution matter.”

Shelby wondered what the story was there but thought it could wait for another time.

“I heard she isn’t any good,” Patricia continued, sounding a bit petulant. Shelby wondered if Patricia liked to be seen as an authority and always needed to be right.

“Consider your source, Patricia. Now, I’m going to put on the kettle. How many for tea or coffee?” Trudy did a quick count and exited into the kitchen.

“You see, Shelby.” Patricia picked up without missing a beat. “Many years ago, little Jenna Dunlop was thought to have shoved her rival down the stairs.”

“Oh, you’re right, Patricia,” Juliette jumped in. “I’d forgotten about that. Yes, Mandy Sharp had stolen Hank Knopple away from Jenna. Or so the story went. They were teenagers, in grade twelve, I think. Anyway, they were at a prom in Warren House. That was an old heritage home that was rented out for events, like dances. Jenna made a scene, accusing Mandy right there while the dance was going on. Then they were heard arguing upstairs again, a bit later. The next thing, Mandy apparently let out a blood-curdling scream, and she went tumbling down the stairs. And there were many of them. By the time anyone reached her, she was dead.”

Shelby was shocked. “What happened? Did they arrest Jenna?”

“Oh, they took her in for questioning and all, but couldn’t make it stick. You see, they were heard arguing, but nobody saw them together those last minutes on the landing at the top of the stairs when Mandy was supposedly pushed. That must have been about twelve years ago or so. Chief Stone did a thorough investigation, from what I remember.”

“Or she just fell, right? She could have tripped or something as she was starting down the stairs? Her long dress, maybe, since it was a prom?” Shelby asked.

“Hmph,” Patricia answered. “That’s what Jenna claimed, and since there was no real proof, she was let off. But it took the town a long time to forget about it.”

Apparently, some never did, thought Shelby.

The thought that Jenna might have been angry enough in the past to kill a rival stayed with Shelby all the way home. Of course, it was just as logical that she hadn’t done it.

But had she? And would she have again?