Chapter 8
After brunch, the women walked back through the town, giving Lena a mini-tour of Indigo Gap.
“How odd that most of the streets take names from variations on blue,” she said.
“Only in the heart of the town,” Cora said. “And you’ll note that a lot of the businesses use blue in their names.”
“I read about the history,” she said. “All about the indigo fabric factory. I guess the town is proud of its heritage.”
“Some of the finest indigo cotton you’ve ever seen,” Ruby said, beaming. “I know it seems a little over the top with all the blue streets and names, but we are proud. And all that is mostly for the tourists and they eat it up.”
“I expect so,” Lena said.
“Speaking of blue,” Cora said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m heading over to the Blue Note to help out over there. It won’t be long. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“I think we can manage,” Ruby said with an eye roll.
“You promised you’d show me your place. I’ve never been in a gardener’s cottage,” Lena said as they walked off, with Jane trailing behind them. She turned and glanced over her shoulder as Cora waved.
When Cora entered the Blue Note, she was surprised to find Lulu, Zee’s sister—and that everything was under control.
“Hi, Cora,” she said. “I just got in. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call.”
“Do you need help?” Cora asked. She was more than willing to help, but she hoped Lulu wouldn’t need her.
“Not with the Blue Note,” she said. “But with my sister? What the hell is going on? I don’t understand!” Her voice quivered.
“I don’t either,” Cora said, with a lowered voice, not wanting to alarm any of the guests who were milling about.
“Was she having an affair with him?” Lulu asked.
Cora didn’t think she heard her correctly. “Come again?”
“An affair? Was she having an affair with Stan?”
The idea of Zee and Stan together in a romantic way turned her stomach. “I don’t think so.”
“Why else would she even be involved with a bunch of amateurs? My sister is an incredible musician.”
“I think she was just having fun,” Cora said.
Lulu, usually as cool as her sister, was in a tizzy. She sat down at the desk.
“Lulu, can I get you something before I leave?” Cora said.
“I’ve got everything I need. I can handle these people,” she said brusquely.
Cora guessed that Lulu was operating on autopilot. “Why don’t you join us tonight at the opening reception for our retreat?”
“I want to see my sister,” she said.
“Maybe she’ll be out by then and we’ll all see her,” Cora said. “Do you want me to call and cancel the reservations for the guests this weekend?”
“I’ve already taken care of that. Thank you.”
Whew! One less thing for Cora to concern herself with. “Please try to come tonight.”
Lulu’s mouth puckered to the side.
“There will be wine,” Cora said, and wriggled her eyebrows.
“Please, there’s plenty of that here, my dear.” Lulu grinned. “See you later.”
Cora left, feeling rushed to get home. She expected a houseful of guests within a matter of hours.
She ambled along a shortcut through one of the cobblestone alleys. She loved the stones. She loved this little town. So tidy and cheerful. As she turned the corner and walked farther, her attention zoomed in on a bag of overflowing trash. Flies buzzed around it. Odd. Nobody lived along these streets. Why would trash be there? A dark oozing substance surrounded the bag. Oil? Syrup? As she examined it closer, she realized it was neither of those substances. It was blood. She shoved her hand into her bag, frantically searching for her cell phone. She needed to call Detective Brodsky. As the scent of stale blood filled her nose and traveled through her, her stomach convulsed and heaved—and she lost her brunch on the lovely cobblestone street.
She pressed his name in her contact list on her phone.
Please be there.
“Brodsky,” he said, the sound of his voice immediately calming her.
“It’s Cora,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m over in the alley between Azure and Lapis,” she managed to say, and then inhaled deeply.
“And? Are you okay?”
“There’s a trash bag here and it seems to be sitting in a pool of blood,” she said, turning from the sight.
“What?”
“Yes,” she said, then groaned. “Right beside my thrown-up brunch, unfortunately.”
“We’ll be right there. And Cora, don’t touch anything.”
“What? Why would I?”
“Just don’t. We don’t think Stan was stabbed at the theater. We’ve been looking for the site of the murder. You may have stumbled on it,” he said.
Cora’s head started to spin. Stan was stabbed, then. She walked away from the bloody bag, away from the sickening metallic stench.
“Hurry,” she said to him, leaning against the wall, and her knees buckled. She sat down on the street, propped up by the wall. She put her head between her legs, taking in oxygen. She would not pass out. She would not pass out.
Better that than a panic attack. She slumped back against the wall and let go.
“Cora!” Someone’s voice rang in her ear. “I brought smelling salts. Do you need a pill?”
Someone’s hands patted her face gently. She opened her eyes. “Jane?”
“Brodsky called and said he’d be too busy to take care of you. So here I am,” she said with a crooked grin.
Cora blinked until the sight of Jane’s face became clearer. “I just need to get out of here,” she mumbled.
“Everything is under control,” Jane said. “Ruby, Lena, and Roni are greeting the guests and having a high old time together.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Cora said.
“You don’t have much choice. Just so you know, everything is going very well. The caterers were just getting in when I was leaving.”
Cora sucked in air. She braced herself as she tried to stand.
“So what’s going on?” Jane said.
“I think I stumbled on a murder site.” As she said the words, her stomach heaved again. Was she remembering the stench vividly or was she still actually smelling it?
“What’s wrong?” Jane said, helping her to her feet.
“The smell,” she managed to say.
“I don’t smell anything,” Jane said. They were far enough away from the bag that Cora shouldn’t smell it either.
“I keep smelling it,” she said, breathy. “I need to go home and take a shower.” It was probably a scent memory. She probably wasn’t actually smelling it, but it would soothe her to take a scalding hot shower.
Jane nodded, just as Detective Brodsky walked over to them.
“Do you have a minute?” he said. “I need to get a statement from you.”
“I just was walking and found it. I don’t have much to say,” she said. “I have guests arriving.”
“It will just take a minute,” he said in a tone that said not to argue.
Cora knew this was Brodsky’s business and he was a pro. Still, couldn’t he just this once let her go her own way?