Seventeen

Maddie stopped midstride. She swung around and looked at her mother. “Is Aunt Cate all right?”

Maddie walked toward her daughter. “She’s fine. Quite shaken, as you might imagine.”

Maddie hugged her mother. “What happened?”

“Honey, he was murdered.”

Maddie clapped a hand over her mouth. As she absorbed the information, her hand dropped. “We always said he would cross the wrong person someday.”

Mother and daughter walked out to the porch together.

“Do you get the feeling they didn’t like him very much?” I asked Nessie.

“My mama brought me up never to speak ill of the dead, but it sounds to me like the wake might be a celebration,” Nessie said. “Pity that he won’t have a chance to mend his ways.” She called Lulu and went outside.

I walked to the bay window in the library and watched the three of them stroll away from the inn.

Sky and Maddie may not have been fond of Randall, but news of his death had caused Maddie to put aside her anger. Death always put things in perspective.

For the next couple of hours, the inn was quiet as a tomb. I paid some of the inn’s bills. When the sun set, I hit the magic refrigerator for dinner. Trixie, Gingersnap, and I polished off leftover crab cakes and three-bean salad. I was washing dishes when the phone rang.

“Holly!” Zelda cried. “I need a favor.”

“Sure.” The word slipped out of my mouth before I considered the possibilities. Zelda was part of the Sugar Maple Inn family. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.

“Hank has been a pill all day—”

“Even when you were on the boat?”

“Ugh. He rented a boat too, and was out there with a pretty date. The poor girl was much younger than us. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into with Hank.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he’s moving on.”

“I don’t think so. I’m at my house, and Hank is outside right now, lurking in the shadows. I’m supposed to meet my date at Tequila Mockingbird, but I’m afraid Hank is going to follow me. Could you come over here and help me?”

“I can as soon as Oma comes back. What do you want me to do?”

“Wear a hat or a hood or something to cover your hair. You can leave through the front door while I sneak out the back. Hopefully, he’ll follow you and won’t know where I went.”

I wasn’t excited about the prospect. Zelda didn’t live too far from the stores and restaurants on the green, though. If I headed in that direction, there would be loads of people around.

“Please, Holly? I don’t know what else to do.”

“Why don’t you just leave lights on so he’ll think you’re home and then sneak out the back?”

“He’s circling around the house. I’ve seen him watching from the neighbor’s yard. I need you to distract him. If he thinks you’re me, then he’ll follow you, and I can make a clean break.”

“Okay. I’ll be over as soon as Oma returns.” I didn’t relish it, but we all did things for our girlfriends.

It was past nine when Oma and Gustav walked into the private kitchen.

“Did you have a nice dinner?” I asked.

“It was delicious.” Gustav bestowed a fond smile on Oma.

“Of course, we talked about the murder of this Randall Donovan.” Oma took out two wineglasses. “We have concluded there are two possibilities. Either Randall mugged Gustav or the person who mugged Gustav murdered Randall and planted the letter on him. These are the only two explanations for Randall having it in his possession.”

Made sense to me, except for one thing. “Why would a psychiatrist mug someone? Aren’t most muggers after money?”

Oma handed Gustav a bottle of wine. “We have considered this but have no satisfactory answer. Perhaps he was broke. Or maybe he wished to have identification other than his own.”

“We believe that the murderer must be the person who mugged me,” said Gustav, “because there is no logical reason for planting the letter.”

I considered telling Oma about Sky Stevens’s connection to Randall but decided not to say anything in Gustav’s presence. I wasn’t sure why I was hesitant. Because it all seemed to begin with him? Could Gustav somehow be at the root of Randall’s murder?

I smiled at him and changed the subject. “Zelda’s obnoxious ex-husband is lurking around her house. She wants me to come over and distract him. I’m supposed to pretend to be Zelda and lure him away so she can leave the house without him following her.”

“Ach. I do not like this man, Hank.” Oma looked at me and began to laugh. “Zelda is much more zaftig than you, and taller. And your hair is the wrong color. Even this stupid man Hank will not be fooled.”

“Liesel, perhaps Holly can wear extra clothes to bulk her up,” suggested Gustav.

“I think I have a blonde wig somewhere!” Oma said. “Come with me, Holly.”

The three of us, Gingersnap, and Trixie walked to the office. Oma pulled a life vest out of a storage closet and then produced a blonde wig and a black coat. By the time she was through with me, I had more girth and blonde locks. We couldn’t change my height, of course, but in the dark, maybe I could pass for Zelda.

I looked down at Trixie. “But you would give me away, sweetie pie.” I took her up to my apartment, closed the pet door, told her to behave, and locked the door.

I approached Zelda’s quaint house from the rear by sneaking through the yard of the house that backed up to her lot. Dense pines and shrubs separated the homes. I crouched among the trees and watched for Hank.

In the darkness, every shape seemed sinister. I had spent many happy hours on the brick patio in Zelda’s backyard, which seemed enchanted when the little fairy lights hanging from the trees sparkled. She had built special structures with hammocks and perches for her cats. Lavender, sage, rosemary, and catnip-filled giant pots around the patio. But the fairy lights weren’t on, and the kitty play structures were frightful blobs that could be stooped people.

Lights glowed in Zelda’s windows. Quaint and old, her house featured diamond-paned windows and dormers on the second floor. But in the night, knowing that Hank lurked outside somewhere, her fairy-tale-style house seemed spooky.

I wished I had night-vision glasses. As I scanned my surroundings, a figure sneaked along the side of the neighbor’s yard. What a jerk Hank was! I held my breath and remained as still as possible.

I recoiled and drew in a sharp breath when Zelda’s big tabby, Leo, rubbed against my knees. My gaze snapped to Hank. Had he heard me? It didn’t look like it. He disappeared toward the street. I tickled Leo under his chin and made a mad dash for Zelda’s back door.

It was unlocked. I let myself in and waited for Leo to amble inside. Crouching a bit, I hissed, “Zelda?”

She emerged from the living room and gave me a big hug. “Oh my gosh! Who dressed you? I hope I don’t look like that.”

“Oma was having fun. You’re going to have to move fast, because it won’t be long before he realizes that I’m the wrong height.”

“Gotcha. Don’t worry too much, though. I’ve noticed that it’s sort of difficult to determine a person’s height at night. Especially when that person is creeping around. There’s a tendency to hunch over.”

I could believe that. “So what’s the plan?”

“You leave by the front door. Pretend you’re locking it. Then walk toward the center of town, keeping your face in the shadows. Okay? Do not look back. It’s only a couple of blocks. If you look back, he’s likely to get a glimpse of your face under a streetlamp. Meanwhile, I’ll hustle out the back way. I don’t need much lead time. He’ll probably recognize you by the time you reach the green.” Zelda grinned at me. “But by then, I’ll be long gone!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I chuckled. “I hope the new guy is a winner.”

“Trust me, Holly. Hank taught me not to assume good things are in pretty packages. I’m being very careful about who I date.”

“I hope so. Have fun.” I walked to the door and looked back at her. “Tell me when he’s watching.”

Zelda turned off the lights in the living room, and peered between the curtains. “Okay,” she whispered. “Go!”

As I turned the knob, I decided I would make a lousy spy. This wasn’t a big deal, more of a game than anything else, but adrenaline pounded through me. Still, I hoped it would get Hank off Zelda’s trail, if only for a little bit. I stepped outside, pretended to lock the door, and headed for the street, taking care to keep my face down. In spite of that, I could see Hank’s shadowy figure lurking at the side of Zelda’s yard. I didn’t dare look back to see if he had taken the bait. I picked up my pace to move him farther away from Zelda’s house in case he figured out what was happening.

In minutes I was at the green and turned right on the sidewalk that ran along it. Merchants were open late, and the dining tables on the sidewalk were swamped. People mingled with drinks in hand as though the restaurants had overflowed. Their dogs and cats roamed underfoot. It was a perfect setup for getting lost in a crowd.

I dodged into Hot Hog, which was always packed with people. I slid the wig off my head as I wedged between patrons in the bar and worked my way over to a view of the sidewalk. I shed the hot coat and the life vest without taking my eyes off the window.

But I didn’t see Hank. Time crawled by as I waited anxiously for a glimpse of him. The crowd was dense, though. I could have missed him. What if we hadn’t fooled him? What if he had turned back and caught Zelda sneaking out the back way? I pushed my way through the crowd again and leaned out the door, looking for Hank.

But then I saw something I hadn’t expected at all.