Claws for Alarm

by Cate Conte

  So where had she been?

  “Thank you. This event meant everything to Jillian. She was so excited about it.” Jo paused as her voice wobbled a bit. She took a moment then continued. “I want to assure you we’ll continue with the event. Jillian would want it that way.”

  I frowned. They still wanted to throw this party? At the same place where Jillian had been murdered? “Um. Well, that’s very kind of you, but are you sure? It seems so … unimportant right now.”

  “Our mission at the League is to help animals, in any way we can. This is definitely a priority for us. As I said, Jillian believed so strongly in our mission.” She paused, as if collecting herself. I could tell she was trying desperately to keep her tone even and calm despite the circumstances, much unlike the highly excitable Jillian. “I promise you, we’ll keep our word and get this fundraiser done. I know how much you and the shelter were counting on this money.”

  “Listen, Jo, I totally appreciate that but I understand how hard this must be for you and your team,” I said. “I completely understand if we should postpone.”

  “No, not at all. Like I said, Jillian would have wanted it this way. So, if your sister is still in, I’ll be in touch?”

  Good question. And one I certainly wasn’t going to bring up to Val right now. “She’s … still digesting all this,” I said. “I’ll talk to her once she’s feeling a bit better, okay?”

  “Sounds great. You have my number now. We’ll talk soon.” Jo disconnected.

  “What was that all about?” Grandpa asked.

  “The rescue league. They still want to do the fundraiser.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  We all swiveled around at Ethan’s voice coming from the kitchen doorway. He was staring at us like he’d never seen us before. “They still want to do the event? Who was that?”

  “It was someone who works with Jillian,” I said. “Keep it down, okay? I don’t want to talk to Val about it today.”

  “You’re not seriously still thinking of doing it, are you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t really focus on that now. Why?”

  He shook his head. “I just think it’s a bad idea. I mean, look at everything that’s happened once you got involved with that woman?”

  I stared at him. This was not like Ethan at all. “What happened to her was awful, but it has nothing to do with us,” I said.

  “Look. Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow?” Grandpa suggested. “Nobody’s feeling great today so we probably shouldn’t be making decisions.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, anxious to get out of the room that had suddenly become full of tension.

  But when I got to the door, I regretted it. It was Jenna. Man, she was quick. She’d probably been waiting outside my house until Becky had given her the okay.

  Jenna turned on her five-hundred-watt smile when she saw me. “Maddie. Hi,” she said. “Thanks for speaking with us. I have a photographer, okay?”

  “Sure, come on in,” I said, holding the door open.

  “Great. Kevin, this way.” She turned and motioned to the photographer behind her. He slipped past me with a look of apology. Jenna could be a bit like a bull in a china shop.

  When I turned back to the living room, it was empty. Grandpa and Ethan had disappeared. Nothing like throwing me to the wolves. I motioned to the now-empty couches. “Sit,” I said. “Can I get you anything?”

  Jenna shook her head, still smiling. “Just the scoop,” she said with a wink. “So, this dead woman. Let’s start with the family scandal.”

  I stared at her. “Sorry. What family scandal?”

  “The Warner family scandal.” She leaned forward in her chair. “I’ve learned that the victim was related to the Warners, and that there’s a battle going on for a pricey piece of property here on the island.” Her eyes glinted with the promise of a big story. “And with the passing of the rightful owner—the grandmother—all bets are off. Do you think that’s why she was killed?”

  Chapter 22

  Leave it to Jenna to pounce on the family scandal angle. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  Jenna leaned forward, legs crossed, pen tapping impatiently against her reporter’s notebook. “I thought you knew. Let me fill you in. The victim was a cousin to one of our residents. Stevie Warner. I believe his wife volunteers here.” She smiled sweetly. “Jogging your mind yet?”

  I excused myself to use the bathroom. Once I’d locked myself in, I called Becky back. “Are you serious?” I said when she answered.

  “I usually am. About what?” She sounded unfazed. I could hear a lot of noise behind her, like she was out of her office and in the middle of the newsroom where all the buzzing about the murder was happening. She loved this stuff. I adored my best friend, but she was a little twisted in that regard. Becky Walsh might look like the sweet girl next door—petite, blond curls, angelic face—until she opened her mouth or picked up a writing instrument. Her sarcasm could bring down the mightiest of men, and when she put pen to paper, well, she could take down an army. She was the absolute definition of little but fierce.

  “Your reporter is here trying to find out if Jillian died because of her family issues! You said you were sending Jenna here to talk about the café.”

  “She’ll cover both. Hey, the family rift is definitely a possible motive,” Becky said. “Don’t you think? Property disputes, especially with a lot of money in the balance?”

  That now-familiar image of Stevie’s car speeding away from the Paradise this morning ran through my brain again. I closed my eyes. “I don’t know what to think. What do you know about the property dispute?”

  “Nothing, yet. We need to get our hands on the grandmother’s will, now that we know the story. We’ll be checking it out first thing tomorrow. But the anonymous tip suggested she appointed an executor to make the final decision on who gets the estate. Sounds weird, but rich people can be a little eccentric, right?”

  I had no room to pace in this tiny bathroom. Pacing helped me think. Instead, I went to the window and peered out. The day was still as beautiful as it had been this morning, if not better. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I could just catch a glimpse of the ocean from here. Upstairs, I had the full view. I turned away. “Did you know she was going to go down this path with me?”

  “No, but I don’t ask for my reporters’ strategies every time they go on an interview. I figured she’d wait to see the details of the will, but I guess she wanted to get a jump start. Did Stevie tell you about the property dispute?”

  “No. Grandpa did, a few minutes ago.”

  “How did he know?” Becky asked.

  “Seriously? Grandpa Leo knows everything,” I said, evading the question. “So you don’t know who the executor is that she appointed?”

  “I don’t, but I will tomorrow. I have no idea where the other family members come in.”

  “Their mothers are sisters,” I murmured, remembering Grandpa’s words. “But they don’t live out here either.”

  “It’s all crazy town. But at least now we know where Stevie gets his money.”

  “No one ever thought Stevie had money,” I protested. “Did they?”

  Becky snorted. “They have that expensive lease on Mish’s store, they both have nice cars, Mish is always dressed to the nines, and their kid is in that fancy boarding school. How many people do you know who live like that on a teacher’s salary? He tutors for a living. And coaches chess. Last I checked, those weren’t the most lucrative careers, especially on a small island. And Mish’s family—well, they were less well off, if you remember.”

  She had a point. Funny, I’d never really thought about Stevie and Mish’s financial status. They didn’t seem particularly flashy to me. I knew Mish poured a lot of effort and time into her store. I guess I’d assumed it made them plenty of money. Mish’s family had been what most people might think
of as low-to-moderate income. On the island, that translated to poor, especially among the upper class. But it hadn’t affected Mish’s status. In school, she’d worked hard to make up in personality what she lacked in money.

  “This is messed up,” I said. “How the heck did I end up in the middle of this thing?”

  “Good question, girlfriend. But you always do,” Becky said. “And we need to get a jump on this thing. By tonight—if not sooner—we’re going to have all the Boston channels, plus the major tabloids here. The cops owe us a press conference. Or at the very least, a press release confirming the details. And the victim. As for Jenna, she’ll write about the café too. She’s just … exploring a different angle.”

  “Why the tabloids?” I asked.

  “Peyton Chandler.”

  “But she had nothing to do with it!” I protested. “She wasn’t even there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s linked to the rescue league and the fundraiser. She’s here on the island. You think these guys care about being literal?”

  Ugh. This was going to get ugly. And since she was already going down this path, I needed to tell her. “Listen,” I said. “This is totally off the record. Do not tell Jenna.”

  She waited. “What?”

  “I saw Stevie’s car today. At the Paradise after we found Jillian. When I went outside to meet the cops.”

  Becky sucked in a breath. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  “How many bright yellow Subarus are there on the island?” I asked.

  “Good point. But did you see him?” she pressed.

  I thought about that. I’d been too far away to see who was driving and just assumed it was Stevie. “No. I guess I didn’t. Either way, you can not repeat this,” I reminded her.

  “I won’t. But it’s good to have in my back pocket depending on how things go. Maddie, I have to go. I think our first tabloid is on the case. I’ll be right there!” she shouted to someone in the background. “Go talk to Jenna and keep me posted, okay?”

  I told her I would and hung up, tapping my phone against the palm of my hand. How deep did this family angst really go? I was kind of afraid to find out. But I knew one thing for sure. I was going to be first in line to view that will tomorrow. Well, maybe second, knowing Becky. She would probably make her reporter sleep on the courthouse steps tonight to be the first to get the scoop.

  When I returned to the living room, Jenna was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor while she scrolled through her phone. When she saw me, she turned the smile back on. “There you are. Ready?”

  “Sorry about that,” I said, sliding into the chair across from her. “Let’s get some ground rules straight, though. The only thing I’ll comment on is the café and the planned fundraiser. I don’t know anything about the victim aside from the fact that she was running this event with me and my sister. Okay?”

  Jenna tilted her head, studying me intently. “Okay,” she finally said.

  It seemed too easy. “Okay, then,” I said, motioning for her to start.

  “One caveat,” Jenna said.

  I should have known. “What?”

  “Can you help us get access to Peyton Chandler?”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. I really needed to talk to Becky about this woman. “I don’t see how I can do that,” I said. “I’ve only met her twice, and it was through Jillian. I’m hardly in a position to convince her to do anything.” I didn’t mention the meet and greet we had discussed.

  “Well,” Jenna said, “I know Becky would be thrilled if we could do an exclusive with her. So if there’s any way.” She flashed me a thousand-watt smile.

  In that instant, she kind of reminded me of Jillian. “Yeah, sure. If I talk to her again I’ll ask.” I hated that she threw Becky in my face, but it always worked. “Let’s do this, because I only have a few minutes.”

  Apparently feeling like she’d gotten what she wanted, Jenna focused on the café and our hopes for the fundraiser. We actually had a decent conversation, and I barely noticed the photographer getting some shots of me talking.

  Until my doorbell rang.

  Shoot. It had to be Ellory. He was due any minute to talk to Val.

  Grandpa appeared as if out of nowhere. He nodded at us. “I’ll get it.”

  Sure enough, he returned with Craig and Ellory. Ellory scoped out the room. He didn’t look thrilled to see Jenna, but he greeted us both with the same polite tone.

  Jenna’s eyes, meanwhile, had brightened with that glint of a breaking news story.

  “Well,” I said brightly, rising. “Shall we go get those photos?”

  “In a minute,” Jenna said. “Nice to see you, Sergeant. Any word on the case?”

  “No,” Ellory said shortly.

  “When do you expect the press conference?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. Our spokesperson will let everyone on our list know. Leo, a word?”

  Grandpa led them to the kitchen.

  I glanced at my watch, feigning impatience. “Do you want photos? I’m going to need to get going soon.”

  Jenna weighed her options. She finally seemed to decide photos were her best bet, so I led her to the café and delivered her into my mother’s care. Mom would make sure she kept her eye on Jenna and saw her out when she was done.

  With that off my plate, I headed back inside to the kitchen, where Grandpa had taken Ellory and Craig.

  “Ethan went to get Val,” Grandpa told me.

  “Where’s Lucas?”

  “I think he went upstairs,” Grandpa said. “He was hiding from the cameras.”

  I turned to Ellory. “Any news?”

  “Not much to report,” Ellory said. “Still gathering evidence and trying to understand who this woman was.” He looked tired already. I knew that the cops hated when non-locals came to their island and got themselves killed. It had happened a couple of times, and it brought a lot of headaches. Not to mention a media circus. Especially when the person was tied to famous people like Peyton and Marco. Like Becky, images of private media jets and helicopters already en route to get on-the-ground coverage would put Ellory and his team over the edge. As far as Becky was concerned, this was her story, as the lone newspaper on the island. And the cops resisted the media even more when it wasn’t our local paper or station.

  So basically, until this case was solved we were going to have cranky cops and cranky journalists.

  “Do you want to talk to Maddie again while I talk to Val?” Craig asked Ellory.

  I looked at Ellory. “You need me again?”

  “I just have a couple more questions for you,” Ellory said. “You mind?”

  Chapter 23

  Val came down a minute later. Craig took her out to the living room to talk in private. I wasn’t sure what else they thought they were going to get out of her, but she’d been on the scene so they had to check the box.

  Apparently I, on the other hand, was a different story. “I don’t know what else I can tell you,” I said to Ellory, pulling out the chair next to Grandpa.

  He patted my knee and start to rise. “I’m going to get out of your way,” he said.

  “Actually,” Ellory said. “I was hoping to talk to both of you.”

  “Me too? Well, sure.” Grandpa lowered himself back down and clasped his hands together. “How can I help?”

  Ellory’s stoic gaze traveled from me to Grandpa and back. “What do you know about Jillian’s relationship to the Warners?” he asked.

  Since he was still looking at me, I figured that meant I needed to take this one. “Like I told you earlier, they were cousins.”

  “I know that, but what was their relationship like?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even know they were cousins until yesterday. I saw her and Mish … having words in the street the other day, then I saw her at Stevie’s yesterday. That’s when he told me.”

  “Leo, I take it you
knew that before yesterday,” Ellory said. It didn’t sound like a question.

  Grandpa lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I know a lot about the people on this island.”

  “What else do you know about their relationship?” Ellory asked Grandpa.

  “I’d heard a bit,” Grandpa said. “But Jillian didn’t spend much time here, as you’ve probably learned.”

  Ellory waited.

  Grandpa did too.

  “Was it good? Bad? Indifferent?” Ellory asked through gritted teeth.

  “There were some issues relating to Marcella’s death,” Grandpa said. “And her will. The estate is worth quite a bit of money. I don’t know much else, though. Have you spoken to Stevie Warner?”

  “Not yet,” Ellory said. “I just found out from Maddie earlier today about their relationship. I asked him to come in and speak to us this afternoon.”

  “Why do you think Grandpa would know anything?” I asked.

  “How well do you know the family?” Ellory asked Grandpa, ignoring me.

  “I knew Marcella fairly well. She and my wife had been friendly,” Grandpa said.

  I hid a smile. Ellory had probably forgotten Grandpa was a master at interviews—or interrogations.

  Ellory waited a beat. When it became clear that Grandpa wasn’t going to offer anything else up, he sighed. “Did Stevie Warner express any animosity toward his cousin in your presence? I understand she was working with Maddie and Val on an event and had been spending time here.”

  “Animosity is a subjective term, isn’t it?” Grandpa said. “Honestly, I never saw them together. Stevie had … alerted me to the family issue. Then Jillian contacted my granddaughter and they decided to work together, and I didn’t want to put her in the middle of whatever was going on.” He glanced at me. “I guess that didn’t work out so well. I’m sorry, Doll.”

  “Not your fault, Grandpa,” I said.

  Ellory turned to me. “So Jillian never mentioned any of this family drama to you.”

  “No. We’d only met a couple times and we were focused on the event.”