Serena was arraigned and charged on three counts of homicide, one count of attempted murder, and one charge of vandalism and destruction of property. Luckily, all but one of her scenes in I Love You, I Do had been filmed, so Dirk had the screenwriter revise the ending to one where Charlie was alone, reflecting on life and love.
There were heated discussions about whether or not the movie would be released, but when movie theaters expressed enthusiasm in showing the movie because the notoriety of the murders had stirred up curiosity rather than repugnance among moviegoers, the powers that be decided I Love You, I Do would be released a few months later than previously planned. This would give the publicity department plenty of time to capitalize on the murders. There was even talk of making a documentary about the real-life events going on while the movie was being filmed.
I decided to host a farewell dinner for my mother and Tom the following Friday evening. The cast and crew were having their own party Saturday night, and most of them were heading for home, a vacation, or their next job the following day.
Who to invite? I texted invitations to Charlie and Dirk, the two movie people I knew best. I would have included Hattie Fein, but I figured she probably resented me for helping the police arrest her lover. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Bosco, of course, John and Sylvia Mathers, and Angela and Steve. Angela would be over the moon, knowing she’d have a great opportunity to chat with her idol, Charlie Stanton. And Billy. Sheila was back on Long Island with promises to visit her son very soon, this time accompanied by her husband.
By Tuesday morning I’d heard back from everyone I’d invited. Not a refusal in the bunch.
“Maybe I should have invited more people,” I said to Evelyn, who had appeared at my side. “Like Sally and Trish and their husbands and Susan. Maybe Ronnie Rodriguez, and Ralph. Oh, and the lovely Marissa.”
Evelyn pursed her lips. “I believe you’re getting carried away, my dear. The way I see it, thirteen people for a dinner party is quite a large number. Is your dining room table long enough to seat thirteen people?”
I released a sigh. “Just about. To make things easier, I’ll serve buffet style. I’ll put the platters of food on the kitchen table and let my guests select what they like.”
“What are you planning to serve?” Evelyn asked.
“Dylan suggested that I cater the dinner. Then Angela told me her mom was sending along a tray of eggplant parmigiana. Aunt Harriet insists on making a roast, and Sylvia decided to make a huge array of grilled veggies and quinoa. Angela’s bringing desserts, Charlie’s bringing a caseload of wine, and”—I laughed—“I’ve decided to make a huge everything salad and my double-chocolate brownies. I’ll buy an assortment of hot hors d’oeuvres, and that should do it.”
“Sounds lovely. I wish I could be there,” Evelyn said wistfully.
I smiled at her. “I wish you could too.”
Friday turned out to be a beautiful sunny early May day. I sang as I drove home from the library. It must have irritated Smoky Joe, because he began to howl, something he’d never done before.
“Okay, pal,” I told him. “No more singing.”
The howling stopped.
When I arrived home, I set Smoky Joe free and fed him his dinner. That done, I unwrapped a package of large sturdy paper plates and set them on the kitchen table, along with paper bowls for salads and plastic cutlery. This was going to be an easy dinner to prepare, serve, and clean up.
I took a quick shower and had just slipped into a new colorful tunic and leggings when the doorbell rang. I hurried to see who was arriving at six thirty when the invitation had said seven. The local florist’s delivery truck was driving off. I bent down to pick up the long box and carried it into the cottage. I let out a gasp when I saw the lovely array of pink and purple tulips just beginning to open. The card read:
Carrie dear,
Thank you so much for hosting a dinner for us as we prepare to leave Clover Ridge. It was wonderful spending time with you, and we hope to have you visit us very soon. You are important to us both.
Love, Mom and Tom
I smiled as I trimmed the stems, filled a vase with water along with the packet of powdered stuff that was supposed to prolong the life of the flowers, then arranged the tulips in the vase. It was a warm and touching note. I was glad my relationship with my mother had improved, but we were light-years away from a close mother-daughter bond. I didn’t think we’d ever have that. Still, Tom and my mother were family. I intended to take them up on their offer and visit them in California—but not in the immediate future.
I placed trays of hors d’oeuvres in the oven and set the temperature low. Dylan arrived a few minutes later with another array of flowers—red roses. I held him close for a minute or two.
“I’m so glad I have you,” I said.
“The feeling is mutual,” he said, then headed for the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.
“Ah! And which admirer gave you these lovely tulips?”
“Tom and my mom,” I said. “I’m glad you were able to get out of work early.”
He made a face. “Don’t think it was easy. Rosalind said someone with what sounded like a big case called and wanted to see me at six. When I begged off, the client pushed for an early-morning meeting tomorrow.”
“What time?” I asked.
“Eight o’clock. I told Rosalind to see if the client would agree to a breakfast meet at the diner across the street from my office. He said yes.”
“Hmmm. Sounds intriguing,” I said.
“I hope it’s worth my while, because this means I have to be up at six thirty tomorrow to make it in time.”
My guests started showing up in small groups. My mother, Tom, Charlie, and Dirk arrived in one car. I thanked my mother and Tom for their lovely flowers, and they each embraced me in a bear hug.
“Thanks for finding Ilana’s killer,” Tom whispered in my ear.
“I didn’t—” I began, but then my mother was hugging me tight.
“I’m so lucky that you’re my daughter,” she said. “Now that I have you, I won’t let you go. Promise me you’ll come visit us.”
“I will,” I said. I surprised myself by adding, “I really will.”
Then Charlie had his arms around me. “You are one special lady, Miss Carrie Singleton! Smart and beautiful. If I were twenty years younger, your boyfriend would have a run for his money.”
“Did you forget you’re a married man?” I reminded him. Still, I was flattered.
He grinned. “Actually, I did—for the moment.” His expression sobered. “I’m still reeling from the fact that Serena killed Ilana and that other young woman. I never would have guessed it. She seemed so—normal.”
“How is Hattie taking it?”
Charlie grimaced. “She’s walking around in a fog.”
“Do you think she knew Serena was a murderer?”
“Hard to tell,” Charlie said. “I would imagine Serena kept that side of herself from Hattie. Though they’d known each for years, they’d only gotten together a few weeks ago.”
“John will find out,” I said darkly.
“I understand he’ll be here tonight,” Charlie said.
“He and Sylvia are coming later. He’s kind of tied up with the case.”
And then Billy was handing me two bottles of wine and a cake box. As soon as I put them down, he swung me around.
“Carrie, thanks so much for inviting me tonight,” he said when my feet were back on the ground.
“Of course.”
“And thanks for getting my life in order. That woman is being charged with killing Daphne and my father, and my mother and I are back in touch.”
I nodded. “You’ve had to deal with so much heartbreak. I hope you can move forward now.”
“I intend to, though I’ll never stop wishing that Daphne had been spared.”
“Me too,” I said. “We were on the way to becoming close friends.”
As Billy headed to join the others, I couldn’t help but think what a good-looking, single man he was. Now who could I fix him up with? I chuckled as an acquaintance who had a habit of getting involved with bad-news men came to mind. It was time she met a nice, responsible guy. Someone capable of treating her right.
Soon everyone but Sylvia and John Mathers was gathered in the living room. Angela, Aunt Harriet, and I served platters of mini quiches, pigs-in-blankets, coconut shrimp, and mini eggrolls. The conversation was animated. I was happy to see Angela chatting with Charlie, her idol, while Steve talked to Billy.
The Matherses arrived as the others were forming a line in the kitchen to fill their plates with food.
“It’s still hot,” Sylvia said as she handed me a huge platter of grilled veggies and quinoa covered with tinfoil.
I placed it on the kitchen table and turned to John. “Everything in order regarding Serena/Helen?”
“It sure is,” he said, grinning. “Once she realized we had her, there was no stopping her from telling all. Her lawyer tried once or twice and got shot down for her efforts.”
Minutes later, when all thirteen of us were eating, it was Charlie who broke the silence by raising the first question.
“Lieutenant Mathers, is there anything you can tell us about the case against Serena Harris?”
John finished chewing what was in his mouth. “Yes, I can. Serena Harris aka Helen Stravos and a few other aliases is being charged with three counts of homicide, an attempted homicide, and a few other lesser charges.”
“Why did she murder Ilana?” Tom asked. He looked so earnest, I wondered if he was truly over his ex-fiancée. Perhaps, as much as he loved my mother, he never would be.
“According to Ms. Harris, Ms. Reingold followed her the night she murdered Daphne Marriott and then tried to blackmail her.”
I found myself nodding. It made sense. Ilana had needed money desperately.
“And why did that woman kill my sister?” Billy asked.
John’s expression turned to one of compassion. “Daphne was in the crowd the day the movie crew was being introduced to everyone on the Green. She went up to Serena, gave her real name, and told Serena she looked like someone her mother used to know. Serena had no idea if Daphne had seen her the day she’d killed her father, but she wasn’t taking any chances. I’m sorry, Billy.”
Billy muttered under his breath. “Why didn’t she do a better job of murdering me?” he asked.
“It’s true—those poisoned nuts wouldn’t have killed you,” John said. “I got the sense that Serena had had her fill of murder and simply hoped to stop you from contacting your mother, at least until the movie crew had left town. Your mother was the key to everything, but until recently she’d been too terrified to talk about your father’s murder.”
“I think that’s enough questions for John,” my mother said. “This is an active murder case. Besides, we should let the poor man eat his meal in peace.”
I stared at her. Such unexpected consideration and tact.
“Great suggestion, Linda,” Charlie said. “But Lieutenant, on behalf of the cast and crew, I want to thank you for solving this case and doing so before we all leave Clover Ridge.”
John grinned. “My pleasure.” He winked at me and smiled at Billy. “I sure appreciated the help I got from these two. And from Sheila Rossetti.”
“Formerly known as Pattie Harper,” my aunt added. “All these people changing their names.” She sighed. “So confusing.”
For some reason, my guests took it in their heads to applaud, and then conversation resumed. A few minutes later, Aunt Harriet, Angie, and I were clearing the table and preparing to serve dessert.
Too soon, the evening was over. I discovered I had tears in my eyes as I bid my mother and Tom good-night. Dylan was the last to leave.
“Wonderful dinner, babe,” he said, holding me tight. “Only you could put a bunch of people with little in common together and make it a social success.”
I laughed. “You think? I’d never given a dinner party before I came to Clover Ridge.”
“Now look at you! All your talents are unfolding one by one.”
We kissed.
“I’m a lucky guy,” Dylan said.
“And I’m a lucky girl,” I answered.