Chapter 15

Dear Natasha,

My eight-year-old daughter has her heart set on a fancy princess bed with drapes on it, for heaven’s sake. I don’t know where she gets these ideas. There’s no way we can spend that kind of money on a canopy bed that won’t be cool enough for her in a few years. Suggestions?

Not a Queen but the Princess’s Mom in Palace Garden, Rhode Island

 

Dear Not a Queen but the Princess’s Mom,

There’s a very easy solution. Mount drapery rods on the ceiling around the bed using ceiling curtain brackets. Hang inexpensive gauzy drapes that she can open and close!

Natasha

The screams were a pitch only small children can manage. The kind that drills right into your brain.

People backed away, revealing that Oscar had managed to glue himself to no fewer than three of his brothers. They all squealed and desperately tried to tug away in every direction, which only resulted in more screams and anguished crying.

I had no idea how to move four little boys in the same direction, when they were glued to one another in such an awkward way. “Would someone please go get Paisley?” I shouted.

Thankfully, one of the vendors showed up with a cart. Four of us lifted on the count of three and placed them into it. We rolled them to Paisley, who finally heard their screams for Mommy as we approached.

“Oscar! What have you done now?” Paisley asked.

“He glued us together,” cried one of the boys.

“Give it to me right now.” Paisley held out her hand.

Oscar held the glue in his hands against his right cheek. It was a cyanoacrylate type of immediate glue just like the ones Natasha had been using in her demonstration. Paisley tried to take it from him, but it was glued not only to his right hand and his left, but also to his face. He had stopped screaming but his brothers continued to screech as they frantically tried to separate themselves from one another.

Fortunately, someone had called the EMTs. The boys stopped crying and stared wide-eyed the minute they saw the EMTs in their big yellow gear, clonking along in heavy boots.

It made me smile. I assumed they would be fine and now they were having the experience of a lifetime. They were being rescued by heroes. The crowd actually broke out in applause, something EMTs never got but richly deserved.

Dr. Chryssos arrived on the run. He raised his hand in a wave but got right to work on the boys. I could hear him asking them who their favorite superhero was.

That resolved, I walked back toward Natasha’s tent. The one next to her belonged to the mother of her half-sister. Like Natasha’s mother, she was a free spirit who believed in the power of stones and potions. I was pleasantly surprised by the beauty of her creations. In fact, so much so that I bought a lamp made out of amethyst geode crystals on the spot.

While she wrapped it up, I admired the quality of the items she carried. She had the ubiquitous salt lamps and chunks of minerals said to bring luck and cure ills. But there were also tall golden obelisks lighted from underneath, drawer handles embedded with glistening white quartz, and stunning slices of rich blue agate with a touch of gold leaf on the edges that were framed as art.

“I’ll keep the lamp for you until you finish up here. You chose the right thing, honey. It will bring tranquility and calm to your home. You could use that.”

“How are things going with Natasha?” I asked.

She lowered her voice. “She has money issues. Bless her, she hasn’t charged us a penny for staying in the apartment over her garage, but it’s time for us to carry our own weight. That’s one reason I was excited about this festival. I’ve had enough orders that I think I might be able to open a little shop. Rents are high in Old Town, but the shabbier the place, the better. I love quirky old buildings. We’ll be looking for an apartment, too, so if you hear of anything, let me know. Natasha had a Realtor come by to look at the place, a Cal Bickford. I remember the name because it’s the same as the lady who died.”

“He’s her brother-in-law.”

“Small world, isn’t it?”

A couple entered the tent and we could hear the wife exclaiming about the blue agate. I whispered, “Good luck!” and got out of the way.

I checked my watch. I had most certainly missed the discussion between Humphrey and Alex.

The rest of the afternoon passed without crisis. I was relieved to go home at six. The days were getting longer and the air felt light and summery. On my way, I passed Lark’s house. Paisley was still there, shutting down for the evening.

“How are the boys?” I asked.

She gave me a grim look. “You’d think nothing had happened to them. They were so thrilled with the EMTs that the four who were stuck together now want to be EMTs when they grow up.”

“It’s amazing how resilient children are. How is Thomas doing? It must have been hard on him to find his grandmother dead.”

“He’s been very quiet about it, which worries me. I’m glad Bennett is around. He’s great with the kids. I’ve asked him to feel out Thomas.”

“Let me know if I can be of any help.” I collected my new lamp and hurried home, ready to sit down with a cup of hot tea and relax.

Mars opened the kitchen door for me when I arrived. Nina held out a bowl of spring sugar snap peas. “We needed a pre-dinner nosh and these are so good!” she said.

Daisy and Muppet ran to me and demanded attention. I set the lamp down and obliged them.

I sniffed the air. “Something smells wonderful!”

“Francie made lasagna,” said Nina. “It’s just about ready.”

“Francie? She very rarely cooks,” I said. “What’s the occasion?”

Mars laughed. “She wanted to hear what went down between Alex and Humphrey. She was hilarious, trying to listen in while pretending she was cooking.”

“She’ll be back any minute,” said Humphrey.

“So what happened?” I asked, dying to hear about it.

“We’ll tell you over dinner,” said Mars.

I went upstairs and changed into soft old khakis and an oversized white blouse. I rolled the sleeves back and laughed when I looked in the mirror. Greer had been so elegant. I looked like I’d been cleaning house! I swapped the shirt for a V-necked cotton sweater and looked more like myself.

I padded downstairs in my bare feet, ready to eat lasagna.

Nina threw a cream and blue tablecloth on the table, and I set out blue earthenware plates with a rustic country pattern around the edges. Mars poured wine into hand-blown Italian wineglasses in faint shades of blue, green, and gold. Humphrey set a salad bowl and a loaf of French bread on the table. Slices had been partially cut into the bread to insert garlic and butter to flavor it while it baked. The scent was heavenly.

I retrieved rustic wood candlesticks in a cream color and was lighting them when Francie arrived. She didn’t bother knocking. She walked right in, her golden retriever, Duke, leading the way.

We fed the dogs and Mochie, then sat down to eat.

“Well?” I asked. “What did Alex say?”

Humphrey took a deep breath. “I am the trustee of a spendthrift trust for Lark’s children.”

Of all the things in the world that he could have said, I never would have expected that.

“I can turn it down, of course, but I won’t. I’m”—he paused for a moment, like he needed to pull himself together—“comforted that she thought so much of me.”

I was glad in a way. It made up, at least a little bit, for turning down his marriage proposal. Whatever her reason had been, it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him or think highly of him.

“I understand her children are quite upset by this turn of events,” he said. “The daughter’s husband was on the verge of filing a challenge to the will and the trust, but the will contains a provision that anyone who files a challenge will be excluded from the will. Apparently, that stopped the husband in his tracks.”

Frank had been busy. “Paisley and Bennett seem very nice,” I said. “Once they get over the shock, maybe they’ll come around and be cooperative about it.”

“I’m meeting with them tomorrow at Alex’s office,” said Humphrey. “I dread it. I expect they’ll be angry. Alex said to brace myself and to remember that I didn’t set this up. I didn’t even know about it. They should direct their anger at Lark, not at me.”

Francie sipped her wine. “I think it was brilliant of Lark. That husband of Paisley’s would have run through her money before she knew what hit her. And worse, if she had the moxie to divorce him, he probably would have gotten half her money. Lark knew what she was doing.”

“I wish she had talked with me about it,” said Humphrey.

“You can still get out of it,” said Mars.

“It’s not that, I’m happy to do it. It’s the last thing I can do for Lark. But I would have liked to know what she expected. You know, how generous she wanted to be and under what circumstances.”

“Maybe she planned to speak with you about it,” I said. “I’m sure she didn’t expect to die when she did.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Everyone fell silent until Francie asked, “What do we know about her death anyway?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that right now,” Nina said, gesturing toward Humphrey with her head. “This is delicious, Francie! I had no idea that you could cook.”

“It’s nothing. I haven’t made lasagna in years. It was one of my husband’s favorites. There was a time when I could make it while wearing a blindfold with my hands tied behind my back.”

“You really ought to enter it in a local cooking competition.” Nina reached for another slice of the bread. “I bet you would win!”

“If I thought I could beat Natasha, I’d do it just to put her in her place for once.”

“It’s all right, Nina,” said Humphrey. “I’d like to talk about Lark. No one wants to catch her killer more than I do.”

“We don’t have much to go on,” I said. “The killer tried to make it look like an accident. But wasn’t successful.”

“He or she was probably in a hurry.” Humphrey pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “We know the crime was committed after I left. Dawn was at five forty-three. It was still dark when I left so it must have been around five in the morning. What time did you find her, Sophie?”

“I wish I had checked my watch. Dawn was breaking when I left the house, but I bought a coffee and a Puppucini first. And then I checked the inside of Lark’s house when she didn’t answer the door. It was probably eight o’clock or so. But Frank, Paisley, and the kids had been there for a while and they would certainly have noticed someone coming out the gate or the front door of Lark’s house.”

Humphrey’s fork clanked as it fell on his plate. “If I had only gone back. Her killer arrived in the dark, knocked on the door, and Lark opened it, expecting me. If I had gone back, she would be alive.” He touched the fingers of his right hand to his forehead, covering his face.

“Or you would both be dead,” said Mars.

“Mars!” I scolded.

“It’s true. Humphrey wouldn’t have expected to find a murderer in Lark’s house. He wouldn’t have been armed or prepared in any way. He would be dead today, too, if he had gone back.”

Humphrey dabbed at his eyes with a tissue. “Mars is right. I wouldn’t have been of any help to Lark.”

In an effort to change the subject at least a little bit, I asked, “What did Alex say about Wolf looking for you?”

“He called and set up an appointment with Wolf. We’re meeting with him tomorrow. Alex doesn’t seem too worried about it though he did say it would look better had she accepted my proposal. At least it will explain my DNA on the coffee mug in the sink.”

And his fingerprints all over the house, I thought as I helped Nina clear the dishes.

Mars rose and fetched vanilla ice cream and a hot apple crisp that he had popped in the oven when I wasn’t looking. Everyone moaned, but that didn’t stop us from eating it anyway.

“Who baked this?” I asked.

They burst into gales of laughter.

Finally, Mars said, “You did. I found it in the freezer today when I was looking for the bourbon blondies, which were quite tasty!”

It lightened up our mood. Humphrey went home, no longer afraid the police would collect him and haul him off to jail. Francie and Duke took a share of the leftovers home with them. I washed dishes and went up to bed earlier than usual, leaving Nina and Mars to negotiate which movie to watch.

* * *

I was used to sleeping until a normal hour in the morning because most of my events took place in the evening. But little Muppet had other ideas. She jumped on my bed, annoying Mochie and Daisy, and most of all me. When I tried to roll away, she weaseled her cold little nose under the blankets and the pillow I was using to defend myself. I finally gave up. At least she let me sleep until dawn.

“Tonight,” I said to Muppet firmly, “you are sleeping with Nina!” I considered opening the door to the guest room where Nina slept and leaving little Muppet there, but it was too cruel. Maybe Muppet really needed to go out. Besides, I was supposed to meet Dulci at seven.

I forced myself to get up and shower. I dressed in a pair of black jeans and a red top. I added small garnet earrings, and looped an abstract scarf around my neck to dress up my casual look. A little makeup, a slash of red lipstick, and comfortable walking shoes, and I was ready to go.

Mochie demanded food by lifting his bowl and letting it thunk on the counter. I fed him a can of salmon for cats. When he was satisfied that he wouldn’t starve, I latched halters and leashes on the dogs, and packed the house keys, phone, and a little cash in my pocket.

I took care to lock the door behind me just in case the intruder was still about. Not that a locked door had stopped him before. Still, maybe he would make noise, as he had in Nina’s case. There was no point in making it easy for him.

I shivered in the cool morning air. The dogs didn’t seem to mind. Daisy and Muppet followed scents along the sidewalks. I steered them toward Dulci’s house. In the back of my mind, I was planning to stop for a couple of Puppucinis on the way home as a reward for them.

We reached Dulci and Emery’s house. I looked at it from across the street. It was three stories with dormer windows on the top floor. There was probably a basement, too. The front door was recessed. A lush white wreath hung on it, standing out in the subdued light. I guessed from the newish brick and lack of a historic marker that it had been built in the last few decades. To my untrained eye, the architecture appeared to be historically accurate. The house fit on the street as though it had been there for centuries. We crossed the street and walked by the walled garden on the side of the house. An ornate iron gate permitted passersby a glimpse of the garden and the house. The dogs pressed their noses against the gate and sniffed.

I tried the knob. The gate swung inward to a patio. I guessed the two double French doors probably opened to the living room. A wrought iron table and a set of garden chairs sat in the center of a brick patio surrounded by pots of flowers and a garden that ran along the brick fence. Dulci had planted bright red geraniums and violet petunias. A white dogwood tree in the corner still had some blooms on it and just to the side of it were two elegant high-heeled shoes with a woman’s feet in them.