twelve

The meeting of the Summer Ridge Bridge Club moved from the library to the dining room table, where Francine had to stack randomly scattered mystery novels to clear enough room to cut the cake. “Research,” Charlotte told her, though Francine thought it was just an excuse; the table always looked that way. Charlotte made coffee. When everyone had their plates and cups, the five women took their seats at the round table just big enough for four.

Charlotte didn’t let too much cake disappear before she spoke up. “We need to get this underway before anyone lapses into a chocolate stupor.” She unfolded a map of the neighborhood on the table and forced the women to move their food. “You’ll all recognize this as our Summer Ridge subdivision.”

The map was an old one from when the subdivision was in the development phase. The semicircular Summer Ridge Drive, which bounded most of the subdivision, was the dominant feature. The smaller Trail Ridge Court, where Charlotte lived, ran beside the southern section of Summer Ridge. Charlotte had scribbled all over the map in red ink. “I’ve noted on each lot the name of the family who lives there,” she said, pointing to the map, “and if the house is being rented, who the owner is.”

“What’s the blue circle mean?” Francine asked.

“It means Toby recorded that person as having come to check out the crime scene.”

Francine smoothed out one side of the map that was trying to curl. Charlotte placed her empty cake plate on the corner to hold it down. “Remember my observation that the killer always returns to the scene of the crime. The thirty-eight names you see circled constitute our best set of suspects.”

Mary Ruth looked at Charlotte over her reading glasses. “Your observation?”

Francine put up a hand. “I don’t want us to quibble about this. Yes, Charlotte has not had a lot of experience. But she did solve her uncle’s murder and she reads a lot of mysteries. Whatever her plan is, it’s as good as any we have right now. Besides, it makes sense that the killer could have come back to see what, if anything, the police found. He would naturally be curious. With the police scrambling to find clues and a motive, a killer would feel safe returning as a part of an organized tour.”

“However unsettling, wouldn’t it be exciting if it were someone in our neighborhood?” Joy said.

Charlotte pointed to Larry and Alice’s house, which was on the corner where Summer Ridge Drive turned west. “I’ve been over the logic before, but maybe it’s better if we all see it. Here’s where Larry and Alice live. If it was someone from outside the subdivision, why not plant the body in a house closer to the entrance? Or better yet, why not drop it in a field on the way out toward Pittsboro?” She moved her hand well off the map in a westerly direction. “Who’s going to find it until fall? One possible reason would be because they needed to put the body somewhere quickly and the shed was not likely to be used for a while. But that says two things: one, it was someone who lived in the neighborhood; and two, it was someone who knew Larry and Alice didn’t use the pool much. Am I not right on this?”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“But,” Francine said, “it could also be premeditated, that the killer wanted to frame Larry, which would also explain the choice of the shed. That would mean that they knew Larry was renting the garage to Friederich, and that he’d threatened to throw Friederich out.”

“I don’t know that it means they live in our neighborhood,” Mary Ruth said. “Lots of people know Larry, especially since he’s so active in the community. And if the purpose is to frame him, they could have come from anywhere.”

“Good point. But it still doesn’t account for their knowledge of the pool shed, which any neighbor would know about but a casual observer wouldn’t because of the privacy fence. So, it would have to be someone who knew Larry and Alice well enough that they had been invited to the house and knew about the shed.” She turned to Charlotte. “You said you had a plan?”

“Wait a minute,” Joy said. “I don’t mean to complicate things, but what if the killer had help? I mean, it could be someone inside the neighborhood helping someone outside.”

Charlotte blew out a breath. “Well, that would complicate matters. We’ll just have to keep alert to that possibility as we unravel the mystery thread by thread. Here’s what we know: In addition to reneging on the agreement he had with Larry, Friederich also was recently blasted in public by Jake Maehler, the midget driver.”

“I keep telling you, he races midget cars,” Mary Ruth said. “He’s not a midget.”

Francine choked back a laugh. Someone snickered.

Charlotte glared at her. “Okay! Point taken. Maybe you’d like to tell the rest of the story?”

“Well, I know racing a little better than you, but go ahead.”

Charlotte bristled but continued. “Jake and Friederich had a long history. Friederich took Jake from a competitive fifteen-year-old racer to a big name in midget car racing, which then earned Jake a NASCAR development contract. Except that he hasn’t been doing so well there. So he hooked up with Friederich again to help him get back to his winning ways. Then the midget car Friederich built for him had issues on the final laps of the Night Before the 500 race, and Jake went from first to fifth. Jake was really PO’d. Financially, he needs to be seen as a winner to keep his sponsors happy and to stay on the NASCAR circuit. Publicly, they made up. Friederich was supposedly rebuilding the car for him to race at SpeedFest. But there may still have been a lot of tension between them.” She took a breath. “We need more inside information. Francine, you know Crystal the Pistol?”

“Yes, but how is that important?”

“Crystal’s son is Jake’s personal trainer. The papers said Jake and his trainer are pretty tight. So he probably knows something. We need for you to get to Jake’s trainer.”

Francine frowned. “Through his mom?”

“It’s the best we have. And don’t you go to the same gym Jake does?”

“When he’s in town. I’ve seen him maybe a couple of times. I have no idea when he works out.”

“Crystal might. Or she can find out.”

“I don’t know about this, Charlotte. Even if I can get to him, the trainer may not talk to me.”

“Sure, he will. People love to show off how much they know. Especially when it comes to the famous—or in this case, nearly famous. It’s all in how you approach him.”

Francine grumbled, but she knew how Charlotte could get. “I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, another thing we need is to figure out is who in the neighborhood has a connection to Friederich, other than Larry. Any ideas?”

Francine collected the empty dishes that weren’t holding down the map and took them into the kitchen. She already had one more assignment than she wanted. She knew if she waited them out, someone would come up with an idea. No one in the group could go very long without talking.

Mary Ruth spoke first. “This is kind of self-serving, but hear me out. Brownsburg has a lot of people working in the motor sports business now that Eaglepoint business park is attracting racing-related companies from all over the country. A number of people in our subdivision work in the racing business or are connected to people in the racing business. I think it’s possible any of them could have known Friederich in some way.”

Joy picked up Toby’s list. “There are thirty-eight names on this list from the neighborhood. You want us to ask each of them if they knew Friederich?”

“Well, actually, yes. These racing companies have money. They hire caterers to handle their parties and serve them food at Lucas Oil Raceway. I’d like to capture some of that business for myself. Perhaps if we invited neighbors to a luncheon that featured my food but was themed around neighborhood security, we could use it to gather information about the neighbors and who might have known Friederich—”

Charlotte snatched the list. “That’s brilliant, Mary Ruth. Most of these people want to gossip about the murder, or else they wouldn’t have been at Alice’s house for the tour. We’d get good attendance on just the hint that the murder would be talked about. If they were able to come in the middle of the day to see the murder scene, they’d probably be available for lunch.”

“The problem is where to have it. I can’t accommodate that many people at my house.”

Charlotte’s face swung toward Alice.

“Oh, no, not my house. We’ve had enough going on there.”

“Then we’ll do it at Francine’s.”

Francine had the deer-in-the-headlights look. “My house?”

“Next to Alice, you have the biggest house. Plus, you’ve got experience. You’ve hosted lots of Sunday school parties with that many people. We’ll just expand onto the deck if we have to.”

“I’m not sure we can throw it together that fast.”

“Sure we can.” Mary Ruth peeled a sticky note off a stash Charlotte kept in the kitchen and began to write on it. “Today is Monday. We can have the luncheon on Wednesday. If I fax in an order tonight, my supplier can deliver food tomorrow. We won’t get the full thirty-eight neighbors, but I’ll bet we get twenty-five. That’s a high percentage.”

“I don’t know if I can get the house clean in time.”

“Oh, please, Francine,” Charlotte said, interrupting. “Dust bunnies are an endangered species at your house. It would pass a Board of Health inspection on an hour’s notice.”

“That’s not true. And Jonathan—”

“Jonathan will grump about it, but in the end he’ll do what you ask. He doesn’t even have to be there if he doesn’t want. He can hide out at work.”

“Well …”

“Can we all agree we’ll help Francine put this on?” Charlotte held up her hand like she was asking for volunteers.

The others were extraordinarily agreeable since it wasn’t at their house.

“See?” she said. “We’ll all help. Just make sure Jonathan knows who’s catering. He’ll be okay with it.”

“To make this legitimate, someone should invite the police to talk about a neighborhood crime watch program,” Francine said. The women nodded in agreement. “I nominate Charlotte to contact them.”

“Good idea,” said Alice. “She’s always calling them anyway.”

“That’s not true …”

“I have a question for you, Alice,” Joy said.

“What is it?”

“Who would know Larry had rented that garage to Friederich? It didn’t seem to be general knowledge. If I understand correctly, the police didn’t know until Larry told them.”

“Good point. I’m not sure how many people even knew we owned that building. We bought it ten years ago as an investment, but no one seemed interested in renting it. Larry finally had to close it up to stop the minor vandalism. I guess he took the For Rent sign down when Friederich leased the building, but I’m not sure anyone noticed. I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” said Charlotte, “and I must cut through there fifteen times a day to avoid the stoplight at the corner. That’s a great observation. Larry was being secretive. How would someone find out who owned the property and who had rented it?”

“What are you two getting at?” Francine asked.

“Think about it. If Larry is being framed, then either the person who killed Friederich knew him well enough to ask him who he rented the garage from, or that person had to dig out the information. If they did, then how did they do it? They would have left some kind of trail, wouldn’t they?”

“Isn’t Larry active in the Chamber of Commerce? Would someone there know what rental properties he had available?”

“So someone could have asked at the Chamber,” Charlotte said. “Joy, you’re the reporter. Could you find out if anyone did, and if so, who it was?”

“Okay, but not until after we do the GMA appearance tomorrow. And you all will be there, won’t you?”

Mary Ruth looked horror-stricken. “I don’t have to say anything, right? I mean, you promised …”

“I walked through this with the producer this afternoon, and I think I may be the only one talking.”

Mary Ruth still seemed hesitant.

“It’s all good,” Joy assured her.

“I guess,” she said.

“Don’t forget now! We need to be there by seven a.m.”

“At least we’ll get it over early,” said Mary Ruth. “I can get back to my kitchen and work on the luncheon in peace.”

Francine hoped for all of their sakes it would go like that. But ever since Friederich’s body fell out of the shed, nothing had been quite like she’d expected.