Chapter 17
Jane couldn’t help but wonder who texted Cora. She hoped it was Zee telling her she was home. She tied another knot to hold her bead in place.
“This house is gorgeous,” Lisa said. “I could live here.”
“If only, right?” Vicki said.
“My kids would have the place unrecognizable in about two minutes,” Judy chimed in.
They all laughed and agreed.
“The town is lovely, too,” Vicki said. “So quaint and cozy. It’s hard to believe there was a murder here yesterday.”
Jane clenched her jaw.
“Murder happens everywhere,” Ruby spoke up. “Don’t judge our little town on what happened to Stan.”
“You knew him, didn’t you?” Vera said.
Jane attempted to focus on her beads.
“Of course,” Ruby said. “I probably know everybody in this town. If I don’t, I know someone in their family.” She held up her beads. “Not bad.”
“How awful for his family,” Vera said.
“Oh, he didn’t have much of a family,” Ruby replied. “He has a brother, but he lives in Tennessee. His parents are long gone. No, he lived for the theater.”
Jane squinted. Her hands were sweating so much that it was hard to handle the tiny beads.
“The local theater?” Annie said, coming back into the room.
“Yes, sad, isn’t it?” Ruby said, and frowned.
“Odd then that’s where they found his body,” Vera said.
“Was it?” Roni said. “Or was it a perfect ending for him?”
Once again, Roni silenced the crafters.
“I wouldn’t think murder is a perfect ending for anybody, would you?” Vera chirped nervously.
“Certainly not,” Roni said. “But think about it. He’d spent most of his life there. Was someone making a statement?”
“He wasn’t killed there,” Jane said, choking back a wave of nausea.
The group’s attention turned to her.
“His body was moved to the theater,” she said.
The room went silent again, just as Cora walked back into it.
Jane stood, feeling as if she needed some fresh air. All this talk of murder. She wanted to navigate the conversation away from it, but her head felt full of cotton.
“Why is everybody so quiet?” Cora said. “Maybe I should put some music on?”
“Wonderful,” Lena said.
Jane left the room and headed out through the kitchen into the backyard. She found a garden bench and sat.
Poor Stan. No family. He just lived his life around that theater. He seemed happy—most of the time, though he was a dramatic guy. Sometimes he could be a bit biting. Jane often found herself wondering what people thought of his direct way of delivering criticism. Especially some of the mothers of the kids in the play. Jane wouldn’t like London involved over there at all. Jane loved painting and designing the sets, but that was as far as she’d ever planned to take it. And mostly it was for Zee, who begged and pleaded with her.
Jane drew in air. She was aware of Stan and Zee arguing and knew Stan wasn’t Zee’s favorite person. Jane didn’t know what the problem was between them. She didn’t ask, assuming it was not her business.
Which begged the question: If Zee didn’t kill Stan, who did?
Were the police looking at all the people engaged with the production?
Jane mulled over all the people involved and couldn’t imagine them killing anyone, let alone Stan, their director.
Cora would say, “Murder never makes sense.” And the other thing she always said is that you never know who is capable of it. Hell, Jane understood that, more than aware of that psychic breaking point and the drive to defend when backed into a corner.
Is that what happened with Stan? Was someone defending themselves? His temper was legendary. Or, did someone just kill him, for no good reason at all? And was that someone lurking around Indigo Gap looking for their next victim?
She dug out her phone from her pocket and dialed Susan Jacobs, Sally’s mom. Sally was one of London’s best friends. London was staying with them and Jane found herself needing to hear her daughter’s voice.
“Hello,” Susan said.
“Hey, Susan, it’s me, Jane. Is London around?”
“Oh sorry, Jane. She’s in the pool. Do you want me to get her out?”
Laughter and squeals of delight sounded in the background. Her daughter was safe, and sounded as if she was having the time of her life.
“Oh no. It’s nothing. I’ll call back later,” she said.
“Call anytime,” Susan replied.
“Thanks,” Jane said, and clicked off.
“There you are,” Cora said as she walked through the grass.
“Sorry,” Jane said. “I just needed a moment.”
“Did you call London?” Cora said, and smiled.
“Yes, but she was in the pool.”
“Ah,” Cora said. “Listen, the energy in there is getting weird. Let’s try to keep it light and not talk about Stan.”
Jane nodded. “I agree. Is Zee home yet?”
“No,” Cora said. “I talked to Lulu. She’s going to stop by later and fill us in.”
Jane’s worry burst into anger. “What the hell? How are they keeping her? I don’t get it.”
Cora sat down next to her. “We’ll find out eventually. We need to calm down. I’m sure there’s been a horrible mix-up or something. Zee will be out in no time.”