She knew what Jackson and Dakota liked to eat, or at least what their mom had allowed them to eat, because she was the chef on their movie.
And last but not least, her and Joey would be spending Thanksgiving together.
Penelope sipped her coffee, cruising through recipe sites on her iPad and making a few notes. After she’d gotten her ideas together, she made another cup of coffee and pulled New York Four’s website.
BIG APPLE DANCER FOUND MURDERED was the headline. She scanned through the article, noticing Candy MacNamera’s face in a video window halfway down the page. She recognized the outfit from the day before, a hot pink blazer over a low-cut silk blouse. Candy began to speak wordlessly as the ticker ran across the bottom of the window. Penelope hit the button to turn on the sound and listened.
“…no suspects yet in the Big Apple Dancer’s murder. The police are asking people to come forward, anyone with information, should call the tip line listed on your screen.”
Penelope perked up when she heard Candy say “…a possible connection to the actress Arlena Madison. Arlena was here at the scene and was one of the individuals who discovered the murdered dancer’s body.”
Penelope sat up straight on her stool and clicked the volume up once.
“Miss Madison had no comment for the press, but she confided off the record the police were onto a suspect, and that she was sure all the facts would be revealed soon. We can only hope she is right, and that the killer stalking the theater district is found soon and brought to justice. And stay tuned for news of the Madison’s Broadway debut, father and daughter on stage together. What a treat that will be.”
The video ended and a circular arrow spun on Candy’s face, re-looping the clip to the beginning. Penelope clicked off the site and set the iPad down, shaking her head.
“Where does she get this stuff?” Penelope murmured.
She opened a different news site that she trusted to have more accurate information. Scanning, Penelope found a short piece mentioning Elspeth’s murder at the Vitrine Theater.
Abigail was quoted in the article as being Elspeth’s best friend and roommate. Penelope scoffed at that a bit, since in reality the girls had only met a few months before. Armand wasn’t mentioned by name, but the article quoted the Vitrine’s director as saying they didn’t anticipate any delays for the Christmas Extravaganza. The article went on to say tickets were still available for shows during the holiday season. Penelope frowned and shut down the iPad and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
Penelope sat and thought about Elspeth for another moment, about how she wouldn’t be celebrating the holidays with anyone. Draining her coffee, Penelope considered her mug, then decided she’d have one more. The sun had begun warming the light in the kitchen, and she thought about its warmth as she turned from the coffee maker back toward the island.
Catching a glimpse of a shadowy outline of someone standing on the other side of the kitchen door, Penelope jumped, sloshing coffee onto her socks and the kitchen floor. She instinctively gripped the mug tighter and danced her body away from the hot liquid, just missing dousing the front of her pajama top.
“Sam!” Penelope said with surprise.
Sam Cavanaugh, action movie star and Arlena’s significant other, waved at her from outside. The sun was just beginning to rise, so his face was still in shadow with an orange glow surrounding his head. He smiled and held a finger up to his lips in a “shh” gesture.
Penelope rolled her eyes and stepped around the puddle of coffee, setting the mug on the counter. She went to the back door and opened it.
“You scared the crap out of me, Sam,” Penelope laughed. From Arlena’s side of the house she heard Zazoo, Arlena’s Bichpoo, yip behind the closed bedroom door.
“Sorry,” Sam said with a wide grin. “It’s a surprise,” he added.
“I’ll say,” Penelope said. She walked to the sink and pulled several paper towels from the roll beneath the cabinet. “I thought your flight wasn’t getting in until this afternoon.”
“The director has a jet,” Sam said, looking down the hallway toward Arlena’s room. “He gave me a lift.”
“You flew here on a jet?”
“No,” Sam chuckled. “I’m not a real pilot. That was just a role I played in that movie. I hitched a ride with him to New York.”
Penelope kept her expression neutral. “Nice to have friends in high places,” she joked.
“Right,” Sam said, not getting the reference. He set the suitcase he’d been carrying down near the coat rack by the back door. “I’m going to go surprise Arlena. We haven’t seen each other in a month.”
“I know!” Penelope whispered excitedly. “She’ll be thrilled.” Penelope bent down to wipe up the coffee from the floor and pulled off her wet sock.
Sam disappeared down the corridor and Penelope heard the soft click of the outer door of Arlena’s suite of rooms. A moment later she heard Zazoo’s barking and muffled laughter from Arlena. The door opened again and the little dog came scurrying out, sitting up on his hind legs and tapping Penelope’s knee with his paw.
“Kicked out of the love suite, I see,” Penelope said.
Zazoo cocked his head and stared at her, then made his way over to the little velvet doggie bed in the corner of the kitchen.
More laughter came from the direction of Arlena’s suite and Penelope sighed. She took her coffee upstairs to get dressed and begin her day.
Chapter 11
Since Penelope wanted to replace the stolen Christmas treat from Steiners, and have it delivered to her mom in Florida by Friday, she decided to hop the train into New York and head back to the department store. She thought she might look for a few other gifts while she was there and make one more stop on the way home.
There was a different pair of elves in the café that morning, just as frazzled as the ones the previous afternoon, but they were quick and efficient, and within a few minutes she was on her way, an identical gold box under her arm. She treated herself to an eggnog latte in a to-go cup and headed to the customer service desk on the top floor.
Penelope dropped her gift off with the shipping department, including a handwritten note letting her parents know she missed them, and inviting them to come to her home for Christmas. On her way out of the store, she bought a box of imported chocolates and a holiday tea collection, tucking them into her bag before stepping back onto the sidewalk and hailing a cab. It was still early in the day and several were hovering outside the main doors of the store.
The cab sped down Broadway in lighter than usual traffic, which thinned even more as they headed toward the East River twenty blocks south. Penelope paid the fare then stepped out, tossing her empty coffee cup into the trash can in front of the bodega on the corner. She headed down the familiar street, pausing halfway down the block in front of one of the old brownstones. She looked up at the second story windows and saw a woman looking out, an infant over her shoulder. She rubbed the baby’s back and bounced lightly on her feet. Penelope smiled and pressed on, past the courtyard and up the steps of the neighboring house. She pressed the buzzer and waited on the stoop, peeking through the glass outer doors into the small foyer.
The inner door opened and a woman peered out. When she saw Penelope, her face broke into a grin and she hurried to open the doors, waving her hand to usher her inside.
“Penelope Sutherland,” Mrs. Sotheby said. “What a surprise! Come in, my dear.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Penelope said. “I thought I’d take a chance you were home.”
Mrs. Sotheby was a retired middle school teacher, so she assumed she’d be home. Penelope pulled the two gift wrapped boxes from her bag and held them out to her. “I got you and Sinay a little something from Steiners.”
“You are so sweet,” Mrs. Sotheby said. “Come in and sit. Sinay is at school…she’ll be sorry she
missed you.”
Mrs. Sotheby led Penelope into the kitchen, where she took a seat at the table. Penelope had met the woman and Sinay, her foster daughter, the year before when Arlena’s brother Max had been involved in an incident that happened in the house next door. Penelope had kept in touch with them, and always tried to visit when she was back in the area in between movies.
“Well, we’ll get together again soon,” Penelope said. “I’ll be in town through the holidays. I’m catering for a documentary being filmed in the Theater District.”
“Coffee?” Mrs. Sotheby asked. She opened a bakery box and set it on the kitchen table.
“No thanks,” Penelope said. “I’ve had way more than usual already today.”
Mrs. Sotheby patted Penelope on the shoulder and sat down. “You say you’re working at a theater?”
“Yes, the Vitrine,” Penelope said. “The Christmas show there. Arlena’s family is making the movie.”
Mrs. Sotheby rubbed a finger under her chin. “That sounds…nice.”
Penelope selected a croissant from the box and tore off an end. “Have you ever been to the show?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. Her hair looked a touch greyer than Penelope remembered, but her eyes were bright and clear, and she smiled easily, as usual. Except for that moment.
“Is something bothering you?” Penelope asked.
Mrs. Sotheby shook her head and smiled. “It’s nothing. It’s just that my husband took me there when we were dating. I had such a lovely time with him, all during that few months we were courting. After he passed, I went to one of the Christmas shows with my reading group, but it was hard for me to enjoy it…I was thinking of Richie the whole time.”
“I’m sorry,” Penelope said.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s been forty-five years now. He was killed not far from that part of town, in fact.”
“I imagine it doesn’t get easier,” Penelope said. “You mentioned he died in a robbery at a store?”
Mrs. Sotheby nodded. “Yes, he had stopped in to buy me some flowers on his way home, and…” Her eyes misted over and then she shook her head. “But you know, I’m lucky to have Sinay now. And you.” She put a soft cool hand on top of Penelope’s.
“I see you have new neighbors,” Penelope said, nodding her head in the direction of the courtyard.
“I do,” Mrs. Sotheby said, perking up. “Lovely family, with a new baby. He does something in finance. She’s some kind of internet person…I don’t know what that is. But long story made short, she can work from home. But they do have a nanny come too. Clearly they’re well off.”
“It’s nice to see a happy family over there after everything that happened.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Sotheby said. “Nothing like a baby to brighten your mood, make you think about the future.”
Penelope left a little while later, giving Mrs. Sotheby a hug on the front stoop before heading back toward the avenue. She caught a glimpse of the woman next door sitting on a lounge chair in the courtyard, her baby wrapped in a blanket asleep in her arms. Penelope waved and the woman smiled then tilted her face to the sun.
Chapter 12
Penelope hopped into her Jeep at the train station back in New Jersey and drove out to a local farm that advertised free-range Thanksgiving turkeys. She picked up a bird big enough to feed their group, running through the list of names in her head one more time. She watched the turkeys peck the ground in the pasture while the owner counted out the bills she handed him. The birds appeared to be in good health and their environment was clean. Happy turkeys made for delicious dinners, she knew from experience. The farmer helped her tuck the dressed turkey into the cooler she’d slipped into the back of the Jeep before leaving that morning.
The farm was a good way out from where they lived, and Penelope enjoyed the scenic drive back and the warmth of the morning sun through the windshield. When she got back to town, she stopped at her favorite organic supermarket to gather the rest of their dinner.
“Sheesh,” she said under her breath as she pulled into a parking spot near the edge of the lot. It looked like half the town was there, stocking up for the big day.
Penelope nudged her shopping cart around shoppers who were examining green beans one by one and turning sweet potatoes over and over in their hands, looking for any flaws on the outside. Penelope grabbed four handfuls of string beans, shoving them into a paper bag she’d taken from a nearby stack. A half hour later, her cart filled with everything she would need, Penelope headed to the checkout lines, which, while a bit longer than usual, were moving pretty quickly. As she stood in line and did one last sort through her basket, her phone buzzed in her bag. Penelope plucked it out and glanced at the screen.
She had three texts. One from her mother: Sorry we’re not spending Thanksgiving together, but we hope you’ll come visit us in the spring! Big birthday for Dad, you know. He surprised me with a holiday cruise for Christmas! We’re going to Spain! Love You Talk Soon.
The next one was from Arlena: Hey! Sam got here early! Where are you? Penelope rolled her eyes and smiled.
The third was from her sous chef Francis: Happy Turkey Day tomorrow, Boss. See you Friday. LMK if we need to order anything special for the first day of work.
Penelope inched her cart forward in line.
“Excuse me.” A woman with wiry grey hair approached Penelope, eyeing the items in her cart. “How do you make those?”
She was pointing at the two heads of purple cauliflower Penelope had perched on top of her pile.
“The same way you’d make the regular kind,” Penelope said with a smile.
“Oh,” the woman said, gazing at Penelope’s cart. “You like interesting food.”
Penelope took a closer look at the woman and noticed the buttons on her coat were off, she’d missed one, which made her coat hang unevenly. She wore slippers and what looked like pajama bottoms under her coat.
“Ma’am?” the cashier said, waving Penelope forward. The woman stepped up with her, as if they were together. The cashier eyed her carefully.
“Mother,” a young woman called from a few rows over. “Mother!”
“Shh,” the older woman said, ducking down a little. “I’m playing hide and seek.”
“Are you okay, ma’am?” the cashier asked. Penelope couldn’t decide if he was asking her or the woman next to her.
“Mother,” the woman’s voice was right behind them. “Time to go.”
“Drat,” the woman said with a sly smile. “She found me again. Nice meeting you.”
Penelope looked back over her shoulder as she began loading groceries onto the conveyor belt. The young woman who had been calling for her mother took her by the elbow and led her to another aisle. She was wearing a long puffy coat that had salt stains around the bottom and well-worn boots that looked like they might be too big for her.
The cashier began dragging her items across the window and weighing her produce, the machine blipping away as her purchases added up. Penelope watched the numbers on the screen out of habit. When she was shopping for a production, she usually had to stay within an assigned budget, and the habit was hard to turn off.
Penelope paid for her items and placed the canvas shopping bags in her cart.
“Can you try it again?” the young woman’s voice said.
Penelope thanked her cashier and pushed her cart toward the exit, pausing when she noticed the older woman and her daughter’s pained expressions as they stared at the screen above the register. A small frozen turkey, a few sweet potatoes, and a box of cornbread mix were waiting on the conveyor belt to be bagged up.
“Try it one more time,” the daughter said. She glanced at the man waiting in line behind them who was both trying to ignore them and suppressing an irritated glance.
“I’m sorry, it’s declined,” the young girl at the re
gister said. Her tone was apologetic as she handed the card back to the young woman, who looked on the verge of tears.
“Here, I’ve got it,” Penelope said, digging in her purse. She pulled out her wallet and handed the cashier her debit card. The cashier paused for a moment, then looked around for anyone to confirm it was okay.
“Go ahead, it’s fine,” Penelope said, holding it out to her again.
“Okay, whatever you say,” the young girl said.
“Thank you so much,” the daughter said. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a breath.
The receipt sputtered from the machine and the girl handed it to the woman. Her mother beamed at Penelope as the cashier handed back her card.
After they’d placed their items in their cart and made their way out of the checkout lane, the daughter said, “We can’t thank you enough. Please, give me your address so we can mail you a check.”
“Oh, that’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Penelope said. “It wasn’t that much.”
“I’d have to insist,” the woman said. Her skin was dry and red, like she’d been out in the cold too long. “We don’t expect charity.”
“It’s just a pay it forward moment,” Penelope said. “For the holidays.”
“She said she’d pay for it,” her mom said through her yellowed teeth. “Let’s scoot!”
“Mother!” the woman sighed. “Please at least give me your email. I can contact you that way to pay you back.”
MURDER WITH ALL THE TRIMMINGS Page 6