The new lock turned like butter, a reminder that I needed to change them again. Unless Elliot’s key turned up. Otherwise I couldn’t chance having a key floating around who knew where.
I flicked on the hall light, glad to see it was working. But we needed to get the electrician back right away to finish fixing the wiring.
Also next was the dumpster delivery. The stockroom had to be cleaned out before we could use it. Holding my breath, I edged into the room, the place where Elliot had died. Silence. Heaps of boxes, some of them fallen onto their sides. A sheet of bright white paper lay half under one and I bent to pull it out.
Notice of Violation, printed in red. A town form, made out to Elliot, regarding a fire escape that apparently wasn’t up to code. Go figure. Signed by Kevin Lee and dated the day Elliot died.
Why was this paper here? Had Elliot brought it to the building? Or had Kevin delivered it? But I remembered quite clearly that Kevin arrived after Grammie. She was alone when she found Elliot, she said. No point in handing a violation notice to a dead man.
I placed the paper on top of a box, planning to collect it on the way out. Then I thought better of it, knowing my track record with leaving things behind. I folded it into a square and tucked it into my back jeans pocket.
Next stop was the front room. I sighed. So much still to do. Sand and paint the walls, wash and buff the floors. We weren’t sanding the hardwood boards, thanks to Madison pointing out that scratches and dings provided character. And oh, we had plenty of character in this old storefront.
Next, I peeked into the bathroom, almost threw up in my mouth, and then squared my shoulders, ready to carry out my real mission. I planned to retrieve the gold rose I found while sweeping the cellar—and compare it to the photograph of Nancy’s earring.
The cellar door opened with a squeak. The space was as dark and dank and gloomy as ever, even with the light on. I climbed down the creaking stairs with caution, not wanting to fall again, especially while alone.
Note to self: build new handrails. Sturdy ones.
I glanced around the cellar, trying to remember where I put the gold rose. A vague memory drifted into my mind … that’s right, I set it on one of the shelves.
Shadows made it hard to see anything. I pushed paint cans and empty jars aside, searching. Aha. There it was.
Upstairs, footsteps thumped across the floor. I froze, the tiny rose tucked in my palm. My first thought was Madison or even Ian. Grammie might have told them I was here.
Something heavy fell with a thud, followed by a few more thumps. It sounded like someone was knocking over boxes in the storage room. I shoved the trinket into my pocket and dashed to the stairs. “Hey,” I called, while climbing up. “What’s going on up there?”
Dead quiet like a held breath, then a rush of footsteps. A hand reached through the door and switched off the light.
Madison or Ian wouldn’t do that. I backed down the stairs, using the slimy basement wall for support and fishing around with my foot. Panting with fear and effort, I reached the bottom and began digging in my pocket for my phone.
A rush of air and energy sailed down the stairs. The intruder leaped off the last few stairs and crashed into me, knocking me into those infernal shelves. Once again, glass smashed. Boxes tumbled.
I used both hands to push back, connecting with solid muscle. A male, then. But who? He was panting as well, pausing briefly to gather strength. But when he came at me again, I was ready. I stepped aside and, at the same time, grabbed a half-full gallon paint can and swung it at his head. Or where I guessed his head to be. By the solid thunk I realized I hit his shoulder.
I whaled the can again and this time hit his skull with a nasty clunk. “Ouch. Stop,” he said. I knew that voice. Rushing away into the dark, I pulled out my phone. The light of the screen lit the area well enough that I recognized my attacker.
Kevin Lee. He stood with one hand to his head, blood oozing onto his fingers. “I’m bleeding.”
With shaking fingers, I brought up the dial pad. “And I’m calling 911.” With the other hand, I brandished the paint can. “I’m warning you. Stay back.”
“Hold on, Iris. I’m sorry. Please, give me a minute and I can explain.” His expression was pleading, and for a second, something about his eyes … no, it couldn’t be. But then he collapsed onto the bottom step, using a handkerchief to stanch the bleeding. “I’m Star’s son.”
That simple statement hit me in the stomach like a bowling ball. “You’re Star’s son?” I repeated. “Is that why you killed Elliot?” I backed farther into the reaches of the cellar, to where a stack of two-by-fours sat. Another weapon.
His shoulders shook, and I realized he was crying. “I thought I did. I tried to.”
“Well, he’s dead.” My tone was tart. “So I guess you achieved your goal.”
Kevin sniffed. “I thought he killed my mother. Star. And when I brought up her name and he made a rude remark, well, I lost it.” He gazed at both his hands, turning them over, palm to back. “I jumped on him and tried to strangle him.” He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. “But then he died, right there. Burped up a terrible smell and passed away.”
Despite my caution, I found myself edging closer. Then I smartened up and turned on the recording app. “He burped and died? Elliot Parker, I mean,” I added, for the recording.
“Yep. Our faces were real close since I was lying on top of him, hands around his neck. Wow, that burp really smelled. I jumped up and he closed his eyes. His arms and legs sprawled out limp and I realized he was gone.”
“You didn’t poison him?” I moved a little closer, realizing I was only trapped in a cellar with a would-be killer, not an actual one.
“No way. I didn’t plan to do it, I lost my temper. Gosh, he ticked me off.”
“He had a habit of doing that to people.” I thought of another detail. “So, the apron.”
Kevin laughed, a terrible sound really. “I saw it sitting there so I tied it around his neck.” He began to wring his hands. “The finishing touch. All tied up with a bow.” He was definitely losing it. “Then I left and pretended to come back later, after your grandmother got here.”
I wanted to hear more details but another, more pressing matter began to nag at me. “If you didn’t poison him, then who did?”
To my shock, he said, “I’m pretty sure it was Charlotte, in one of those awful green shakes she makes everyone drink. I’ve been hanging around her to see if I can prove it.”
Nancy. A picture flashed into my mind. At the breakfast meeting, Elliot and Nancy had toted green smoothies in identical cups.
Maybe Nancy was the intended victim.
Maybe she still was.
CHAPTER 29
“You’re coming with me,” I said to Kevin, marching across the cellar floor. If my theory was correct, there was no time to waste. I certainly didn’t want to wait for the police to arrive and question Kevin. Nancy could be dead by then. Or not, which is why I had to go to her house immediately and find out what Charlotte was up to. Before making rash accusations based on Kevin’s word alone.
“Where are you taking me?” Kevin asked. “To the police station?” Now that I’d taken charge, he seemed quite malleable. If he’d been wearing a tie, I could have tugged it to pull him along.
“Eventually,” I said. “There is the little matter of you jumping me.” I trotted up the stairs, for once not worried about them collapsing. Every brain cell was focused on one thing, getting to Nancy, just in case Charlotte planned to poison her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, trudging up the steps behind me. “I was only trying to tease you, honest. I came back to find something I left here. Something incriminating.”
I patted my back pocket. “Found it. And don’t you be going after it.” He also needed anger management or something, with his habit of jumping on people.
We hopped into Beverly and sped down Main Street, Thankfully traffic was sparse at the moment and there wasn’t
a cruiser in sight. Then I had a bright idea. In total disregard of another driving law, I picked up my phone and called 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“An assault. No serious injuries.” I gave my name, glancing at Kevin, who was leaning against the passenger door. The gash in his head had stopped bleeding. Anyone looking at us would arrest me, I realized.
“Your location?”
I provided Nancy’s address, figuring Kevin could be arrested there as well as at the shop. And maybe, with any luck, they would get a two-fer.
“There’s a three-car accident on Route 1,” the dispatcher informed me, “but they’ll be there soon as they can.”
Disconnecting, I pressed the gas. I definitely wouldn’t get stopped now, not while the cops were tied up. But despite my excessive speed, a vehicle soon crept up on my tail, a little too close to my bumper. Shades of Margery on the foggy night. I glanced in the rearview to make sure it wasn’t her again.
Three faces were reflected back at me. Alfie, Trooper, and Bacon. Adrenaline flooded my veins but before I could decide what to do, Alfie pulled out around me and zoomed past. The pig glanced over at me as they went by.
“Boy, that guy’s a nut,” Kevin said. “Going way too fast.” He craned his neck at the truck racing out of sight. “And was that a pig?”
“Sure was. Bacon.”
“Pork chop.” He grinned, thinking we were playing a game.
I clarified. “That’s the pig’s name. Didn’t you meet him at Mary Ellen’s class? He lives at the commune.”
“No, our class met at the shared-use facility where we made our teas and tinctures.”
And maybe where Charlotte learned how to make poisonous concoctions, even if that wasn’t Mary Ellen’s intent. “Why do you suspect Charlotte of poisoning Elliot?”
He began that hand-wringing thing again. “Mary Ellen took us on a couple of plant identification expeditions, so we could tell the difference between good plants and poisonous ones. Charlotte was really interested in the jimsonweed, asked Mary Ellen if she ever took it. I guess hippies used to.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” When his head went down, I guessed the answer. He wanted to make sure he couldn’t be tied to Elliot’s death first.
Eyrie Two’s distinctive jumble of chimneys and gables loomed on my right. I peeled off and raced down the steep driveway, squealing to a stop under the portico, behind Charlotte’s car. The trunk was open, revealing boxes of herbal merchandise. Making a delivery?
I pulled the keys out then glanced at my companion. With his blood-matted hair, he’d scare small children, but I needed his muscle, such as it was. Though I could lock him in the car … no, he might be useful. I found a ball cap in the backseat. “Here. Put this on.”
“What are we doing?” He glanced at the house as we climbed the steps, the same ones in the last photograph. I patted my pocket, feeling the bump of the gold rose. Nothing—or everything? I wasn’t sure.
“I have no idea,” I whispered. “But we need to be here.”
The front door was open, so I peeked through the screen. Faint voices drifted from a doorway off the huge entrance hall, where a wide staircase rose to the second story. I considered barging in but instead pushed the bell, so as not to alarm Charlotte. Once the police arrived, they could take over, if need be.
Nancy hurried out into the hall from the back of the house, a smile on her face. It dropped slightly when she saw us, but she kept coming. “You’re early,” she said, holding open the door. “But welcome. I didn’t know you were on the list.”
List for what? “Last minute,” I said, playing it by ear. “You know Kevin, right?”
She sent him a steely glare, which paired with that hostess smile was truly frightening. “Of course. We’re in the kitchen, last-minute prep for the party.” As if guessing a party might not seem appropriate right now, she added, “Charlotte convinced me that a small group detox is the perfect remedy for grief.”
Good grief was more like it. What were we getting into? With any luck, our mission would be wrapped before the festivities began.
Charlotte was standing at the island in what had to be the most gorgeous kitchen ever. Her welcoming smile vanished. “Iris. Kevin. I didn’t— How nice to see you.” She picked up a huge green smoothie and sipped.
An identical one sat on the counter, where Nancy had been chopping crudités. Uh-oh. I beelined over and picked it up. “This looks yummy.” I pretended I was going to take a sip.
“No!” Charlotte practically launched herself across the island. “Don’t drink that.”
I held it close, turning my back as she scrabbled at me. “Why not? Nancy has germs?” By her reaction, I surmised my guess was correct. This drink was poisoned.
“What’s going on?” Nancy asked.
“Brace yourself, Nancy,” Kevin said. “Charlotte poisoned your smoothie. And Elliot’s.” Nancy made a sound halfway between a shriek and a sob.
“Give it up,” I said to Charlotte. “The police are on their way.”
In response, she let out a deafening scream, thankfully stopping her attack on me. Then she shouted, “You know who Kevin is? Elliot’s son.” After delivering that bombshell, she barged blindly from the room.
Nancy stared at Kevin, her eyes glittering. “Is that true? Are you my husband’s spawn?” Spittle flew from her lips. “I always wondered if one of his groupies would have his kid.”
Kevin collapsed onto a stool. “No,” he said weakly. “I don’t think so anyway. But I am Star’s son.”
“Star’s son?” Nancy’s hair practically stood on end. She pulled out a drawer with a clash of silverware. “When am I ever going to be rid of that tramp?” Her mouth twisted in a horrible snarl. “Elliot tried to leave me for her.”
Woo, baby. I needed to get this on tape. I turned my back, set the smoothie down, and pulled out my phone. Hit what I hoped was the right button.
“What are you doing?” Nancy barked.
“Uh, nothing. Putting the smoothie down.” I spun around to face her, my hands up, the phone hiding behind me on the counter.
Holy cow. She held a small pistol, pointing it back and forth between Kevin and me. “Get over here,” she said.
“Nancy, why do you have a gun?” I asked, edging toward a set of knives near the sink, still with my hands up. Useless against her weapon, but I had to try something. “Please don’t shoot us.” The gold rose burned a hole in my pocket. “I don’t blame you for being angry at Star. My grandfather dated her too.” A total lie but I hoped maybe she would feel sorry for me instead of shooting me.
Her brows went up. “He did? Poor Anne. Another victim.” Her eyes were stormy. “I finally had to get rid of her. He was supposed to be mine.”
At hearing this blunt news about his mother’s death, the air went out of Kevin with a rush and he sagged against the counter. I tried to send him a telepathic message. Um, need help here.
She glanced around. “Where did that other tramp go? She stole him from me too.”
“I think she’s gone,” I said, really having no idea. “The police are going to be here soon, Nancy. So why don’t you put down that gun?” A meat mallet sat waiting to be washed and I picked it up behind my back.
“The police?” Nancy threw back her head and laughed. “Good try, Iris. But even if they are, I’m going to take out the trash first.” She leveled the gun at Kevin. Then she screamed and took a step back, the gun pointing toward the ceiling.
Three faces were peering through French doors off the kitchen—Alfie, Trooper, and Bacon. Alfie turned the knob and came in. I swung the mallet and hit Nancy on the head. The gun went flying. Kevin woke out of his stupor and tackled Nancy, apologizing as he did so. The pig and dog muscled past Alfie, who was helping Kevin restrain Nancy, and jumped up on hind paws to devour the chopped vegetables. I scrambled after the gun, picked it up with my sleeve and stashed it in a drawer.
Police swarmed into the house thr
ough the front door and the deck entrance. Anton took in the situation with a glance and dispatched officers to assist Kevin and Alfie. Rhonda read Nancy her rights as she snapped on cuffs.
“I heard everything, Iris,” Anton said. “You called me a few minutes ago.”
“Really?” I picked up my phone. “I was trying to record.” I pointed to the smoothie, still sitting on the counter. “Better take that into evidence. I’m pretty sure it’s poisoned. Charlotte killed Elliot by accident and she was about to poison Nancy.”
“And Nancy killed Star. Who would have thunk it?” Anton shook his head in amazement at this outcome as he pressed his chest microphone button and spoke. After he finished the dispatch, he said to me, “Charlotte drove across the lawn and got hung up in a hedge out front. I’m having her arrested.”
“Good. I’m glad she didn’t get away.” I watched as an officer shooed out the pig and dog. Others interviewed Kevin and Alfie.
“I came to town to apologize to Iris,” Alfie was saying. “I scared her and her little friend by accident.” He saw me listening and gave me a goofy wave.
I returned a half smile and a finger wiggle, not wanting to encourage him. Then I dug the gold rose out of my pocket and displayed it for Anton. “Got a spare evidence bag? A piece of Nancy’s earring.” At his skeptical look, I added, “Grammie found a photo of her wearing a pair with little gold roses. I found this while sweeping the cellar and forgot about it until tonight.”
“Maybe I should just deputize you and be done with it,” Anton muttered. He called for a bag and I dropped it inside.
Then I leaned back against the marble counter and closed my eyes. “It’s over,” I whispered. “It’s really over at last.”
CHAPTER 30
We buried Star Moonshine, real name Deborah Taylor, in the graveyard on the bluff overlooking the harbor. Father David McGuiness from Our Lady of the Seas and Reverend John Bannister of the Congregational Church shared official duties.
A sizable group of mourners were gathered on this windy May afternoon, puffy white clouds taking turns to cover the sun. In the bay, whitecaps tossed and sailboats tacked to the islands. Lars Lavely stood at the back, taking notes and photographs for the next edition of the Herald. Under duress, Grammie and I finally gave him an interview, which he didn’t mess up too much. In return, he was covering the store opening. Quid pro quo, that’s how small towns operate.
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