An Ale of Two Cities

by Sarah Fox

  “I was the daytime supervisor. Dan and Ruby took the night shift. I don’t know if they talked to Jade at all, but I could find out. Let me give them a call.”

  She set the clothes aside and phoned first Dan, then Ruby. The conversations were short, and from what I heard on Alma’s end, I knew what she was going to say before she hung up the phone.

  “Neither of them said more than hello to Jade. Sorry we couldn’t be more helpful.”

  “It was a long shot anyway.”

  As I slipped off the stool, Gertrude poked her head through the door. “Are you two talking about the dead woman?”

  “We are,” I said. “Do you know anything about her?”

  “Only that she was Freddy Mancini’s personal assistant.” Gertrude shook her head. “I didn’t envy her that job. Do you think the same person killed her and Freddy?” She directed the question at both of us.

  “That’s Sadie’s realm of expertise, not mine,” Alma said, sliding a dress onto a clothes hanger. “She’s the mystery maven.”

  “I’m not an expert,” I said. “Not by a long shot. But I think there’s a good chance one person committed both murders.” I pulled my gloves on. “I’d better get a move on. I don’t want to be away from the Inkwell too long and I want to see if I can track down someone who spoke to Jade.”

  “There’s always Penny.” Gertrude pursed her lips together. “Of course, she’s in jail at the moment, so you probably can’t talk to her.”

  I kept my hat in my hand instead of putting it on my head. “Penny? She spoke to Jade?”

  “Oh, yes. And it wasn’t a pleasant exchange, let me tell you.”

  Now I was intrigued. “What happened?”

  “It was shortly after the ice sculpture competition got underway. I was taking a stroll around the green, having a look at what everyone was up to. It was incredible, don’t you think? The way they wielded those chain saws and other tools, turning those blocks into pieces of art. A real marvel.”

  I forced myself to keep my impatience in check.

  Fortunately, Alma prompted Gertrude to get back on track. “What about Jade?”

  “Right. She and Penny were over by the bandstand, having words.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “I haven’t a clue, I’m afraid. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But they both looked spitting mad, I can tell you that much.”

  “Maybe Sybil would know what it was all about,” Alma suggested. “She and Penny are close. Maybe Penny confided in her.”

  I tugged my hat on, making sure it covered my ears. “I’ll ask her.”

  I thanked both women and hurried out onto the street. I was so eager to get to Sybil’s yarn store that I barely noticed the snow or the frosty wind stinging my cheeks.

  As much as I’d believed in Penny’s innocence, I now had to wonder if the police had the right culprit after all. Still, I couldn’t be sure, especially since I didn’t know what Penny and Jade had argued about.

  When I reached Purls of Wisdom, I had to go through the same routine as I had at the thrift shop. I shook the snow from my hat and boots and brushed fluffy flakes from my shoulders. The store was cozy and warm, the colorful yarns giving the place a cheery atmosphere. The upbeat chatter and laughter coming from the table at the back of the store added to the merriness.

  A class was wrapping up and Sybil was thanking the half dozen adult students for showing up despite the weather.

  To my surprise, I spotted a head of crinkly red hair among the students. I hoped Cordelia was having more luck with her new hobby than she had with hockey, but judging by the tangled mess of yarn she was stuffing into her bag, I suspected she wasn’t.

  When Cordelia saw me by the door, she waved, a smile lighting up her face. One of the other students started chatting with her, so I focused on Sybil, who was making her way toward the front of the store. I stuffed my gloves into my pocket and met her over by the checkout counter.

  “Hello, again,” Sybil said with a warm smile. “What can I help you with today?”

  “I was hoping for news of Penny,” I said. “Is she doing all right?”

  Sybil’s smile faded. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. She’s quite distraught but coping.”

  “I guess things are even worse for her now that a second body’s been found.”

  Sybil pulled a box out from beneath the counter and set it down with a thud. “Penny’s not responsible for either one. I’ve known her for years. It’s absolutely absurd that she’s been arrested.”

  “I have my doubts about her guilt too.”

  Sybil removed a handful of packages of knitting needles and slapped them down on the counter. “I don’t have doubts. I’m absolutely certain she’s innocent.”

  “Of course,” I said quickly, not wanting to annoy her more than I already had.

  She reached into the box again and sucked in a sharp breath as she pulled her hand back. She examined her red-painted nails and let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the second nail I’ve broken in less than a week.” After rummaging beneath the counter for a moment, she came up with a nail file. “Penny’s hired a lawyer from Burlington. He’ll get her out of this mess.”

  “I hope you’re right. Maybe the argument she had with Jade Castellano won’t make things worse for her.”

  Sybil filed her nail with excessive vigor. “Gossiping might, though.”

  Her voice was chilly enough to rival the winter wind outside and I had the distinct feeling I’d worn out my welcome.

  “I really do hope Penny will be okay,” I said, taking a step back.

  A woman with her arms full of blue and purple yarn approached the counter. Sybil’s attention shifted to her and I took the opportunity to slip out of the shop. I had no more information than I’d arrived with and all I’d succeeded in doing was making Sybil think I was a terrible gossip.

  “Sadie!” Cordelia called when I was halfway down the street.

  I waited as she hurried toward me, her long hair streaming out from beneath her hat.

  “How are you feeling today?” she asked when she reached my side.

  “I’ve got a few sore muscles, but otherwise I’m fine, thanks.”

  She clapped a gloved hand over her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I still can’t believe I hurt you and Zoe.”

  “It’s okay, Cordelia. Really.” I pulled her hand away from her eyes so she wouldn’t end up tripping or walking into a streetlamp. “Are you going to enter the snowshoe race?”

  “Gosh, no,” she said. “I think I’ll stay away from all sports, at least for a while. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

  I glanced at her bag. “I see you’ve taken up knitting.”

  “I’m trying to, anyway,” she said. “It should be safer than hockey, as long as I avoid stabbing anyone with my needles.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do great with it.”

  She did up the top button of her purple wool coat. “Are you thinking of taking a knitting class? Is that why you came by the store?”

  “No. The only things I’m trying to knit together are clues.”

  Cordelia’s blue eyes lit up. “I love a good mystery! Is it the murders you’re looking into?”

  “Yes.”

  “But the police arrested Penny Blaine. I heard Freddy’s assistant died before that happened, so didn’t Penny commit both murders?”

  “Possibly, but I think there’s a chance she’s innocent. I don’t want the wrong person going to jail, and if the police figure out that she’s innocent, suspicion might fall on Mel.”

  Cordelia nodded thoughtfully. “I heard she knew Freddy’s assistant.”

  “It seems like she’s the only one in town who did. That’s not surprising, though, since Jade was from Boston.”

  “It’s strange, though, isn’t it? Lots of people in Shady Creek didn’t like Freddy, but if no one other than Mel knew his assistant, then why kill her?” Her eyes widened. “Do you think she knew who killed F
reddy and that’s why she had to be silenced?”

  “That thought has crossed my mind,” I said.

  We were heading north along Hemlock Street, toward Creekside Road. Cordelia lived and worked at her grandmother’s beautiful inn up the road from the Inkwell. I could barely make out the shape of the gorgeous Queen Anne that housed the Creekside Inn. We weren’t far away, but the falling snow had drastically reduced visibility.

  I was, however, able to see far enough to know that we were approaching the town hall. I slowed my steps. I hadn’t walked past the building since I’d found Freddy’s body. The memory put me on edge, so when Cordelia grabbed my arm, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “The gingerbread contest!” she exclaimed.

  “Sorry?” I said, confused.

  “It’s part of the Winter Carnival,” Cordelia explained. “And the entries are on display at the town hall today. I love gingerbread, don’t you? My gran has the best recipe ever. She has to make a double batch each Christmas because I go through it so quickly.”

  “I love gingerbread,” I said when she paused for breath. “My family has a great recipe too, passed down from my Grandma Josephine.”

  “Do you want to take a look inside?”

  We were already at the base of the town hall steps and I was interested to see the creations people had come up with for the contest. I figured I could spare a few more minutes away from the pub.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We hurried up the steps and into the brick building, pausing to brush the snow off ourselves in the vestibule. We wandered into the main room where the chili supper had been held on the weekend. It was quiet in there, no one else about. The tables were still set up, but this time they were covered in white cloths and displayed what I estimated to be at least three dozen gingerbread structures.

  “Wow,” I said as we approached the nearest table.

  There were standard gingerbread houses, but there was also a barn with animals in the farmyard, a gingerbread school bus, and an intricately decorated cruise ship.

  “Aren’t they incredible?” Cordelia enthused. “I don’t know how anyone can do this. The last time I tried making a gingerbread house, the roof collapsed before I could even decorate it.”

  “I’ve had that happen once or twice,” I said.

  “Do you make gingerbread houses each year?”

  “No, I haven’t for a long time. I did when I was a kid, though.”

  My mom had helped me with the baking, and my dad had assisted me with the construction. My brother Michael had never shown much interest in gingerbread. He didn’t even like eating it, since he wasn’t keen on the flavor. Taylor had loved smashing them to pieces and eating them, but I was the only one of the three of us who’d enjoyed making the houses.

  Thinking about Christmases past sent a pang of loneliness through me, even though Cordelia was at my side. I was really going to miss my family over the holidays.

  I pushed those thoughts aside as we made our way along a table designated for the children’s category.

  Cordelia moved on ahead of me. When she reached yet another table, she waved me over quickly. “Sadie, check this out.”

  When I joined her, I nearly gaped in amazement. There was a beautiful gingerbread carousel on the table. It must have taken hours to assemble and decorate. Each piece had been shaped with precision and intricately decorated with icing and candies.

  “And this one!” Cordelia had already moved along the table.

  I shook my head in wonder. “We have some seriously talented people in this town.”

  “You can say that again.”

  This time we were admiring a gingerbread replica of Westminster Abbey, if I wasn’t mistaken.

  We continued to wander around the room, exclaiming over all the incredible contest entries.

  “Penny probably didn’t get to enter this year,” Cordelia said once we’d seen everything on display.

  “Does she usually?” I asked.

  “Every year. She always makes the cutest things. But I doubt she had a chance this year, what with getting arrested.”

  “I wish I knew what happened between Penny and Jade,” I said, more to myself than Cordelia.

  “You mean why they argued?”

  “You know about that?” I said with surprise.

  “Sure. I was on the village green when they had their spat.”

  My hopes spiked. “Do you know why they argued?”

  “I heard some of what they were saying,” Cordelia said. “Enough to know that Jade thought Penny was a crazy stalker.”

  Chapter 24

  “A stalker?” I had a hard time believing my ears. “Whom did Jade think Penny was stalking? Freddy?”

  “That’s what I gathered,” Cordelia said.

  “But why would she think that? My understanding was that Penny hadn’t had any contact with Freddy for years. And the one time she tried to talk to him on the green, he pretended he didn’t know her. It was only a few hours later that he was killed. How would she have had time for stalking during that narrow time frame?”

  “I’m pretty sure it had been going on for years. Maybe Penny hadn’t seen Freddy for a long time, but it sounded like she’d been sending letters and e-mails.”

  I took a second to absorb that information. “What exactly did you hear?”

  We made our way slowly toward the door, pulling on our gloves and hats again.

  “I don’t remember word for word, but Freddy’s assistant—Jade, right?” When I nodded, she continued. “She told Penny to stay away from Freddy or she’d turn the letters and e-mails over to the police. Penny said she was free to be on the green if she wanted and Freddy wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying the Winter Carnival. Then Penny said something else I couldn’t hear. I think that’s when Jade called her a crazy stalker.”

  “How did Penny react to that?” I asked, wondering once again if the police really had nabbed the right suspect.

  “Her face flushed bright red. I think she was angry, but maybe a bit embarrassed too. I thought she might start to cry, but she took off before I saw any tears.”

  “Have you told any of this to the police?” I asked as we stepped out into the cold. The snow was still coming down, but not as thickly as when we’d gone inside.

  “No, it never crossed my mind to talk to the police. I figured Jade would have told them about the letters and e-mails once Freddy was killed. And then Penny was arrested, so I thought that was that.” Cordelia’s forehead furrowed with worry. “Should I have talked to them?”

  “It might not be a bad idea to have a word with them now,” I said, “so they have the full picture of everything that’s been going on.”

  “I’ve never had to go to the police station before.” She sounded both awed and scared.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “Ask for Detective Marquez. She seems to be in charge of the murder cases.”

  We’d reached Creekside Road. There weren’t many cars out and about, so we crossed without having to wait. We exchanged a few more words outside the Creekside Inn before parting ways, and I returned to the Inkwell, wondering if there was still a murder mystery left for me to solve.

  * * *

  I took advantage of my free time the next morning to get in some training for the upcoming snowshoe race. Before moving to Shady Creek, I’d only been out on snowshoes a couple of times in my life, almost two decades ago when I was living in my dad’s home state of Minnesota. I didn’t have any real hope of winning the race because I’d be up against people who’d been snowshoeing for years, but I was determined not to come in dead last.

  I carried my snowshoes down the road, past the Spirit Hill Brewery, to the start of a trail that led up into the hills. Once I had my feet strapped into my snowshoes, I set off along the track, taking a minute or so to warm up before picking up my pace.

  A few puffy, white clouds drifted across the bright blue winter sky, but they didn’t blot ou
t the sunlight. I was glad I’d worn a shorter, lighter jacket instead of my knee-length one. Although the cold air stung my bare cheeks, the physical exertion was warming up the rest of me.

  I paused for a rest when I reached the crest of a hill, loosening my scarf as I caught my breath. I could hear the occasional call of a bird in the trees on either side of the pathway, but otherwise peace and quiet surrounded me. A bright red cardinal flew over me, bringing a smile to my face. It was nice to be alone with nature. The tranquility was soothing after all the thoughts of murder that had occupied my mind lately.

  I was about to continue on my way along the path when I heard a faint noise somewhere behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. The pathway was clear, not another soul in sight. I followed the trail down a slight hill and then quickened my pace, getting as close to a jog as I could with snowshoes attached to my feet.

  Snow crunched somewhere in the not-too-far distance. I stopped short, my breaths puffing out of me in misty clouds. I glanced over my shoulder again. I didn’t spot anyone behind me, but the small hill I’d come down didn’t allow me to see very far. Staying still, I listened for further noises, but heard nothing.

  Maybe someone was a long way back, taking the same trail as I was.

  It was nothing to worry about, so why did I feel so uneasy?

  It was the murders, I decided. Even out here in the peaceful hills, recent events were taking their toll on my nerves. That didn’t mean there was any real reason to be scared.

  It’s fine, I told myself. Just another person out for a morning trek.

  I set off again but didn’t make it far before I stopped once more.

  This time there was no mistaking the crunch of snow beneath someone’s feet.

  I turned around. Seconds later, a figure came into view over the small hill. It was a woman in jeans, a sweater, and snowshoes. As she drew closer, I was able to recognize her.

  Lara Hawkes.

  I raised a gloved hand in greeting. “Morning, Lara!” I called out.

  She didn’t return my wave or my greeting, although I knew she’d heard me. Even from a distance, I could tell her gaze was fixed on me.