My footsteps slowed when I saw Emily’s pink Mini Cooper in the parking lot of Penniman Properties. What was the only thing Darwin remembered about the car that passed him the night of the murder? It was small. Not much to go on. Still …
I walked up the sidewalk lost in thought, hardly seeing the charming building. It would be very convenient for Emily if Darwin came under suspicion of murder. It would be hard for him and Pru to live in the area, with the talk, the looks, the gossip. I knew what it felt like to have people gossip about you. Maybe he’d want to move away.
What was Emily doing on Farm Lane the night of the murder? I remembered her flirtation with Mike after the funeral. Was it business or pleasure she’d had in mind? Both? Or just plain murder?
She was my top suspect, but as I climbed the porch to her office, I hesitated. I needed answers, but was a direct confrontation the best way to get them? Think, Riley. If she’s guilty, confronting her would put her on the defensive.
I decided to take a walk around the green. As I did, I fell into my old habits, scanning for security cameras and surveillance tails, and checking license plates. I saw nothing besides my favorite tea shop, Lily’s; specialty stores, many sporting sunflower shaped flags in honor of the festival; and lots of window shoppers. Relax, Riley. You’re in Penniman now.
I stopped on the sidewalk to let a group leave a coffee shop. “Good morning, Riley,” Gerri’s voice boomed.
“Hi,” my voice trailed off. I still couldn’t bring myself to call her anything but Mrs. Hunt.
“I know it’s difficult to change ingrained habits, but you must try to remember to call me Gerri, now that we are colleagues at Udderly.” She adjusted a gauzy yellow scarf that matched her linen tunic. “Day off? You deserve one.”
“You too. The weekend wouldn’t have been so successful without your help.”
Gerri slid on jeweled sunglasses, and I had to stifle a smile. How could I have put this woman on my list of suspects?
“My pleasure. The ice cream shop is a Penniman institution and Buzzy was like a sister to us. Well, with all the intermarriages long, long ago, we are related, albeit distantly.”
“Your family goes way back.”
We walked past the war memorial. “Founders, with the Baldwins. Many in our family served. Yours too. Many of our neighbors. They all did their duty.”
“The Baldwins?” Baldwin was Nina’s maiden name. “Nina Baldwin Aldridge?” I said.
Gerri nodded. “Beautiful girl. Her family owned much of the land here for generations and the thread mill too. Of course, that’s closed now.” She rearranged her scarves. “She’s very active in the community, though I imagine she’ll pull back while working on her husband’s campaign.”
I remembered Nina telling me about organizing the Sunflower 5K and the Memorial Day Run. Memorial Day. That’s when Angelica had sailed to Block Island with Mike, running into Kyle and his secretary.
Gerri leaned closer. “Are you okay, Riley?”
“Oh, sorry.” Perhaps I didn’t have to dig too far for information. This talkative woman knew everything about everyone in Penniman. Instead of asking questions, sometimes it was better to simply let people talk and listen closely.
“I was wondering”—I still couldn’t bring myself to call her Gerri—“about Aaron Tuthill. What do you know about him?”
“Aaron? Sit here for a bit.” She pointed to an empty bench with her cane. Flo had told me that Gerri had started using the cane after a knee replacement. She didn’t need it now, but liked having another accessory.
“The Hermit! I know that’s what people call him, but he’s no more a hermit than I am. His house is a fortress, not a hermitage. He goes out to the casino often enough. Flo’s seen him down there several times when she goes on her church bus trips.”
Gerri nodded to a guy pushing a baby jogger. “He might not go out much, but he has lots of unsavory characters visiting him. Florida plates. Dropping off or picking up boxes. And those cars in the yard and that house”—she sniffed—“what a disgrace. His family would be distraught if they could see its current state.”
“Has his family been in Penniman long?” I asked.
She shook her head. “The Tuthills came to Penniman in 1920. Newcomers.”
“Newcomer” was a relative term.
“And the Aldridges, well, they don’t acknowledge him.” Gerri waved her hand. “He’s the black sheep of the family.”
This was a surprise. “He’s related to the Aldridges? Kyle Aldridge?”
She took a deep breath. “A distant cousin. Well, his mother was the original black sheep of the family. They disowned her for marrying against her father’s wishes. Aaron worked at the family’s Ford dealership, but was fired ages ago by Kyle’s uncle Nick.” She made a gesture that looked like she was sipping from a teacup.
“Drinking?”
She raised her eyebrows and adjusted her scarves.
“Does he have a job now?” I asked.
She shrugged. “He says he works with computers.”
“The night of Mike’s murder,” I began. She turned to me, light glinting on her sunglasses. I had the unsettling sensation of talking to two of myself, one reflected in each dark lens. “What did you do after we finished at Udderly?”
She lifted her chin, gathering her thoughts. “After we left—and wasn’t that wonderful, I felt like that was a proper send off for Buzzy—Flo and I returned to the house and ate a light supper. I worked on the genealogy club presentation. Flo watched Real Housewives. We had our nightcaps, Manhattan for me, vodka martini for Flo. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Did you see any unusual cars on the road? A pink Mini?”
She shook her head. “That night? No. But I’ve seen a pink Mini on the lane the last few days. Emily Weinberg’s car. She’s been at Aaron’s house several times.” Gerri’s voice warmed with sympathy. “She was always a driven girl, always wanted her father’s approval. He founded Penniman Properties, you know. I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day. Her father always favored her older brother, and she’s always tried so hard to prove herself.”
“Are you thinking of selling?” I asked.
Gerri’s look said, Are you insane? “Heaven forbid.”
Gerri said she had an appointment and walked to her car. The bench where we’d been sitting faced the war memorial, and behind it, Penniman Properties and Kyle’s law firm.
I thought of my list of suspects. My pick was Emily, but was it mostly because I didn’t like the way she was pressuring Caroline?
A red Mini turned into the parking lot behind the law office. Moments later, I saw Kyle emerge from the car.
Darwin had said he’d seen a small car. I jumped to my feet, ran across the green, and waved Kyle down.
His eyebrows raised as I dashed across the street to him.
“Hi, Riley,” he said. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to gather my thoughts.
“How’s Caroline?”
“She’s well, thank you.” I flashed onto the papers in the box Kyle had brought over. “She was puzzled about one thing in the mail. The DNA report for Buzzy.”
Kyle chuckled. “Oh, Mike was always helping Buzzy with things that were online. Tech wasn’t her strong point.” His smile faded. “Well, if Caroline has questions about anything, she can call me.”
He wasn’t going to tell me anything. I wondered if he knew that the police had taken Caroline in for questioning and that she’d hired another lawyer. I wasn’t going to tell him.
“Great car,” I nodded toward the Mini.
“Yeah, my wife’s. Mine’s in the shop. Well, if that’s all.”
“Yes, bye now.” I kicked myself as I walked down the sidewalk. Sleuthing was harder than I realized. I hadn’t put Kyle on my list at all. Why would I? He and Mike were longtime friends.… Weren’t they?
Nina? The Mini was her car, but maybe I was making too much of it. Why would she want to kill Mike? If Nina wanted to kill anyone it was probably Kyle, now that she’d learned he’d been having an affair with his secretary.
I searched my memory. In high school, Nina, Kyle, and Mike had all been part of a tight group of football players and cheerleaders. Caroline and I hadn’t moved in that orbit. Mike and Kyle had been best friends since high school. They’d seemed tight at Buzzy’s funeral, but could they have been covering up a rift? Who could I talk to about Mike and Kyle?
Everyone knew Penniman High School’s beloved football coach had opened a sporting goods store when he retired. It was a block from the green. I changed direction and walked on tree-shaded streets to a more commercial strip where Penniman did its banking, filled its prescriptions, and had its oil changed.
Penniman Sports was situated in a brick building on a busy corner. A little bell jangled as I pushed open the door. I was certain this was a wild-goose chase. Do the math. Their football coach had been in his sixties when they played, almost twenty years ago. Would he still be working?
The walls were painted in Penniman High’s colors—forest green and white—and a bobcat, the school’s mascot, was captured in mid leap across the back wall of the shop, ready to pounce on unwary shoppers.
I admired some high-tech running gear then approached a woman at the counter. Her spine curled forward, but she was tanned and wiry, her white hair cut in a shag, her blue eyes friendly. “May I help you?”
“I’m trying to find Coach—” I hesitated. What was his name?
“Coach Valeri. My husband. He passed two years ago.” Her kind look was sympathetic.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said.
Her smile and voice were gentle. “Many of my husband’s former athletes come in looking for him. It’s nice to know so many young people looked up to him.”
I introduced myself and told her I was a friend of the Spooners.
“Mike was something special.” She pointed to a plaque on the wall. “He was quarterback on my husband’s first championship team. Tell Caroline I’m very sorry. When is the memorial?”
“She’s planning something in the fall.” I shifted gears. “I just ran into Kyle Aldridge.”
Her gentle grin broadened. “He’s a lovely man, still does so much for the school. Oh, he and Mike were inseparable, but both, of course, very competitive. That competitiveness drove them both to succeed. If one did something, the other had to, although honestly, it was always Kyle following Mike’s lead. Mike was larger than life, even then. I remember they’d race everywhere. They’d even race to the cafeteria, or see who could chug a bottle of sports drink fastest. My husband told me they raced up the flagpoles in front of the school one day.” She chuckled, so did I.
The bell jangled as customers came into the shop.
“Thank you for your time.” As I walked out, I smiled. The whole school had watched Mike and Kyle’s race up the flagpole. Mike had won the climb, but by a hair. Gerri had given them both detention for a week.