Chapter Twenty-Six
I walked out and sat in the little gazebo. The air smelled of damp dirt with a hint of things that were starting to grow. A few minutes later Zoey’s friend charged out of the community center and took off toward the housing area. She didn’t even notice me sitting in the gazebo. Or if she did, she didn’t want to acknowledge me. Rebecca came to the door and motioned for me to come in.
“I didn’t mean to cause a problem. Everyone seems to have enough of them,” I said as we walked back to the meeting.
“You didn’t. And, like you said, Zoey can always do a sale too. We just liked your enthusiasm. And, between us, Zoey can be difficult.”
I would have liked to ask Rebecca more, but needed to work out the details for the garage sale while we finished our food. Most of the ladies would be contributing things, while others agreed to help out the day of the sale.
When we were finished, Rebecca walked me to my car. “Thanks for this. You didn’t have to turn your garage sale into a fund-raiser for us.”
“I’m happy to do it.” I’d planned to use the money to rent a cabin at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire and surprise Seth with a getaway, but this was more important. “I don’t mean to pry.” I totally did. “But you mentioned Zoey is difficult. How so? And if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
“She’s one of those people who volunteers to do things, but then just wants to have a bunch of underlings to boss around. No one wanted to say it out loud, but if she ran the garage sale, we’d be doing all the work. Zoey would show up long enough to grab some glory.”
Zoey sounded annoying, but that didn’t make her some kind of homicidal kidnapper. Somehow that disappointed me. “Do you know if she’s independently wealthy?” I was still curious about how she had the money to offer to buy all of Alice Krandle’s stuff.
“Not that I know of. If she was, I don’t think she’d be living on base. The houses aren’t that great.”
“Has she done any garage sales for people on base?”
“A few. I went to one of them. It was like Martha Stewart herself had designed it. Very fancy.”
I’d done one high-end garage sale where everything was arranged to look like a fancy store. It was a waste of time and money as far as I was concerned, but the customer is always right.
“She also did a sale for a neighbor of mine.”
“Do you know if your neighbor made any money?”
“Not much. Zoey made her buy expensive tags, signs, and an open-sided tent for the sale. It took hours of organization. She would have been content just to throw stuff on tables and hope for the best.”
That wasn’t the best way to do a garage sale either. I took a middle-of-the-road approach for my sales. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll be in touch soon with final details about the sale.” We hugged our good-byes. As I drove away I remembered Trooper Kilgard wanted me to cancel the sale. I couldn’t let those women down.
I decided since I was on base I’d stop by the thrift shop and say hi to my friend Eleanor. Maybe she’d know something about Zoey. At the sale for Alice Krandle, Eleanor had said Zoey wanted to be the only garage sale organizer in town. How far was Zoey willing to go to accomplish that?
* * *
At eleven I went into the thrift shop through the back door. I hadn’t been here for a couple of weeks because I’d had one of those terrible spring colds that I hadn’t wanted to expose anyone to. Since I’d recovered, I’d been busy with my clients’ sales. The storeroom was shockingly clean and well organized.
I’d been here at times when donations were stacked everywhere and you could barely walk through the room. Now clothes were hung neatly on racks, toys were on low shelves, and stray boxes were up high on shelves above the clothes. I walked into the shop, which was equally neat, but there seemed to be less merchandise than usual. Eleanor was at the front of the store behind the cash register, looking at her phone.
“Eleanor, the storeroom and store look amazing.” I didn’t add “if rather empty.”
“It’s all Zoey Whittlesbee.”
“She must have spent hours in here.” I’d taught her well apparently when she’d worked for me in January.
“Oh, no. That’s not it. She’s convincing everyone to hire her to do garage sales, and our donations are way down. Three quarters of our recent donations are leftover items from the sales, and most of it isn’t worth trying to sell.” Eleanor shook her head. “I’m not begrudging anyone the chance to make money off their stuff. It’s just, from what I’ve heard, they aren’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Zoey has people signing contracts, but almost everything is an add-on.”
“Like?”
“Tags are extras. Signs are extra. She even charges for her time posting the sale online. I think she’s the only one making any money.”
“It doesn’t seem like she’ll stay in business very long at that rate.”
“Maybe not on base, but she has a rich aunt in Concord who knows everyone and has done a couple of huge sales there. I guess Zoey raked it in.”
That must be where Zoey had gotten the money to offer Alice Krandle a lump sum. It still seemed like a risky way to do business.
“Do you know what Zoey’s husband does?” I knew he was in the Air Force, but I couldn’t remember his exact job.
“He’s with the security force.”
The security force worked closely with the Ellington Police Department. He’d have access to all kinds of information. Did I really think Zoey could be behind Stella’s kidnapping? Was she that desperate?
“How long have they lived here?”
“About two years.”
Long enough to know that Green Monster was a flavor of ice cream at Bedford Farms. I’d moved off base about two and a half years ago which is why I didn’t know the Whittlesbees except from the brief time Zoey worked for me. During that time I’d never met her husband or kids. I just couldn’t imagine that I knew someone who would do this to me or Stella. The kidnapper said I knew him. I shook my head.
“Why do you ask? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. Everything’s fine.” I’m not so sure Eleanor believed me, but she let it drop. Eleanor and I chatted for a few more minutes before saying our good-byes.
* * *
Next on my list was tracking down Louisa Crane. She was the last person I knew by name who had some connection to all that was going on. Damaris wouldn’t be happy if she found out, but that was the least of my worries. Figuring out who the kidnapper was had to be a priority. No one—especially Seth and Stella—would sleep well until that was accomplished. After a quick online search, I found an address for Louisa in an apartment complex on the north side of Ellington.
It didn’t take long to drive over there. A closed outdoor swimming pool was surrounded on three sides by four story buildings. It looked like each unit had its own balcony. Louisa lived on the third floor. I hesitated at the door before knocking. But what was the worst that could happen? I didn’t think she was going to let me in and kidnap or kill me. It was more checking off a box. And I still had the wine bottle in my purse and hairspray in my pocket. I knocked, then slipped my hand in the pocket of my sweater to grasp the hairspray bottle.
Louisa answered the door and looked me up and down. “Sarah Winston.” Louisa was a lumpy woman who looked to be in her sixties. She wore jeans, a tunic top, and had thick black socks on her feet. “I can’t decide if you are brave or stupid coming here.”
I couldn’t agree more. “Probably some combination of both,” I said.
“Come in since you’re here.” Louisa turned, and I followed her down a hall. A bedroom was off to the right, a bath to the left. The main living space included a small kitchen open to the tiny living room-dining room combo. Another bedroom was off the living room to the left. It didn’t seem like anyone else was here, but I didn’t relax my grip on my hairspray bottle just in case.
Louisa had a huge leather couch and matching recliner that took up most of the living room. A flat-screen TV was hung on the wall opposite the couch. All of it looked new, and I remembered Frida had said she’d thought Louisa had come into some money. Louisa’s balcony overlooked the parking lot at the back of the building. Family photos hung above the couch. Louisa sat in the recliner, and I took a spot on the couch.
“Your apartment is lovely.” I’d try to soften her up first.
“What? You think I robbed a bank?” Louisa asked.
Whoa. That didn’t go as planned.
“If you must know, I won fifteen thousand dollars on a scratch-off lottery ticket.”
“That’s amazing. Congratulations. I’ve never won more than two dollars.” Not that I played often. “You must be very lucky.”
“Yeah, well, most of my life my luck has been of the bad kind.” She peered at me with a “why are you here” look.
“I know about the anti-Sarah group that meets at the church.” Soft-pedaling didn’t seem to be a good idea.
“I knew Frida Chida was up to no good when I saw her outside the room that day.”
I wasn’t going to throw Damaris under the bus and tell Louisa that was how I’d first heard about the group. “Did you know Crystal Olson?” I thought I’d go back to the very beginning of what had happened with the kidnapper.
“The hooker that got herself killed.”
I’m not sure how she “got herself killed,” but I’d let that slide. “Yes.”
“My nephew went to high school with her in Lowell.”