Murder's No Votive Confidence

by Christin Brecher

  “The landscape here is so very different from LA,” Gina said. “The fog last night was, I don’t know. I can see why our setting in Scotland will be so perfect for a mystery.”

  “I guess you’re used to warm weather,” I said.

  “It’s the secret to love and romance,” she said.

  I thought about my afternoon in a tree with Peter, and decided Nantucket was pretty romantic, too.

  “Were you at the hotel this morning?” said Gina.

  “I was,” I said. I was happy to help Gina with any information about the murder if it would help her prepare for her new role. For a moment, I even imagined her thanking me in her Academy Awards speech. Thanks to Stella Wright, of the Wick & Flame candle store in Nantucket, Center Street, open Monday–Sundays, 10–5, for helping me to prepare for my role.

  “How did he look?” said Gina.

  “He looked surprised,” I said. “And a little cruel.”

  “Cruel?” said Gina.

  “No, not cruel,” I said. “But definitely not friendly.”

  “I heard the bartender assaulted him, but why would he?”

  “It’s hard to imagine,” I said. I had no intention of spreading gossip about Bill.

  “Do you think he felt any pain?” She squeezed my elbow as she spoke.

  “I couldn’t say.”

  “So sad, really. To live a sacred life, and then to die a dismal death.”

  “That sounds familiar,” I said about her last comment.

  We were heading up the path to her cottage by now, and Gina pulled a key from her pocket and let us inside. She flicked on the light switch, and breathed a sigh of relief. The lights went on.

  “False alarm,” she said. “I’m so sorry to have bothered you. I guess the murder really got to me.”

  “From Swan Song,” I said. “ ‘To live a sacred life, and then to die a dismal death.’ Isn’t that your husband’s famous line?”

  Gina laughed.

  “You,” she said, “are a fan of Kevin’s! He’ll be so touched.”

  “Honestly,” I said. “I’m your fan. I’ve seen every one of your movies except your first. I was too young and my parents wouldn’t let me because they said it was risqué.”

  We both laughed, and she ushered me up the stairs and into her room.

  “The Feeling Season,” she said. “That was the first movie I made with my husband. God, he seemed so handsome back then. And smart. Can’t believe I ever thought he was smart.”

  I was surprised to hear Gina speak this way about the famous Kevin Bunch.

  “Here,” she said. From a walk-in closet she handed me a floor-length, satin pencil skirt with a bottom ruffle that was the most beautiful shade of teal. She added to it a beaded top in a pale aqua that made my red number look like I’d made it myself. “Try this.”

  “I can’t,” I said, overwhelmed by the sheer luxury of the outfit.

  “You can,” she said. “Go for it. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet your prince charming tonight.” She looked at it and ran her hand down the skirt. “One of us should get lucky tonight, right?”

  I swear she had a tear in her eye when she handed the dress to me.

  “Take these shoes and purse, too,” she said, handing me the most beautiful accessories I’d ever laid eyes on. “And don’t worry. I won’t make you have them home by midnight,” she said, with so much charm I found a tear in my eye, too. “Now, hurry up. You only have a few minutes, so let’s not spend it arguing.”

  She closed the door, and I stood for a moment, soaking in the fact that I was in Gina Ginelli’s bedroom. She had joked about Cinderella and being home by midnight, but as I dressed, I really did feel like she was my fairy godmother. I entered her bathroom to make sure my face looked OK, and caught my breath at my own reflection. It fit perfectly.

  I eyed the vanity station Gina had set up. It was covered with makeup and I noticed a small bottle of perfume. No brand. I lifted it and sniffed. It was the lovely mix of vanilla, bergamot, and the mystery scent I had noticed this afternoon. This was the second time I could not identify her blend. That doesn’t happen often. I knew it would be perfect, however, for my Ginelli-scented candle, if Gina was open to the idea.

  It occurred to me that Gina wasn’t really kidding when she said she was a diva. To be holed up alone for a week to work, she had an awful lot of niceties around her. I’d think a pair of sweatpants and a couple of warm sweaters, plus a good pair of flannel PJs would do the trick for such an endeavor. Gina’s bathroom, however, included a pink silk negligee thrown over the bathroom door and some equally sexy underwear scattered about. The fun side of a life of glamour, I thought, as I considered how different the mess of clothes currently strewn about my room was. Well, at least she was human enough to be messy.

  I dabbed a bit of Gina’s perfume on my wrist, reapplied some lipstick from my purse, and pulled my hair up into a high chignon, which is a handy trick I’ve developed over the years to keep the crazy curls in my hair looking good after a long day. I picked up the purse Gina had lent me and my own bag. I was running out of time, so I decided to organize my bag on the car ride over. The Dove Guy would be arriving at any moment.

  “Don’t you look lovely,” said Gina when I opened the bedroom door and smiled down at her from the open landing that overlooked the living room.

  She had opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. As I descended her staircase, I was aware of how tightly her pencil skirt hugged my calves. As I reached her, she handed me a glass of wine, and for a moment I wondered if Jessica would mind a last-minute guest in the form of a world-famous celebrity. Then, I decided Emily would kill me for any more changes. I still hadn’t eaten, but I took the glass she offered to me and clinked.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “You’re too kind.”

  She waved her hand and drank. “We girls have to stick together, right?” she said.

  “Right.” I smiled back.

  “Shall we?” said Gina.

  She grabbed the keys to her car and led me out the door.

  I wasn’t too comfortable with the fact that Gina drove like a race car driver, with a glass of wine in hand, but I was admittedly impressed she could pull it off. To distract myself, however, I opened my purse to decide what I would need to transfer into her small clutch. Lipstick. Phone. Driver’s license. The mace I had taken from my car. I thought of Emily and the little extras she always carries around as an event planner. Since I’d be helping the Sterling women dress, I wished I had bobby pins. I felt like there was always a hair problem and Emily always had a bobby pin. Or double-sided tape for bra malfunctions. I considered that Emily would be a great mom. Her kid would want for nothing on the playground, from juice boxes to Band-Aids. I almost burst out laughing when I opened Gina’s purse. Not only did she have bra tape and bobby pins, but a nail file stuck out of a small side pocket. Fantastic.

  As I put my humble treasures into the purse, something behind the nail file caught my eye. A small piece of paper. I peeked. I couldn’t help it, but I glanced at the paper, which was a little note.

  Love You, My Tinkerbell

  I smiled as I remembered that Tinkerbell was the name of her character in her first movie, the one my parents had never let me see. I imagined her now estranged husband had put the note in her purse on happier days. Then I realized this diva probably had loads of men who loved her. Perhaps one of them had slipped it in her purse.

  “Here you go,” said Gina, pulling up to the inn.

  I opened the door to get out. Roll out, I should say. Once again, I noticed how restricting a lovely pencil skirt with a ruffle on the bottom can be. It was the opposite of the long and flowy outfits that Emily wore. I now understood my dear friend’s fashion choice.

  “Will you be OK?” I asked.

  Gina took a healthy swig of her wine.

  “Nothing a good sleep can’t remedy,” she said. “As we say in the theater, ‘break a leg.’ ”

  “Thanks,�
�� I said. “You’ve been a lifesaver.”

  “See you when I see you,” said Gina and she pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind her.

  “Wait,” I cried, but it was too late. My purse and bag of clothes disappeared into the distance with her.

  As the car drove away, I still couldn’t believe my luck. I felt like a princess. I lifted my wrist to smell the lovely perfume I had borrowed.

  As I stood in front of the Melville, sniffing my wrist and thinking of the little note in my bag and the gorgeous evening clothes my diva friend traveled with, my blood suddenly turned cold. One thing I know about scents is that most people like them because they remind them of something in their life. A good perfumer has more than a good nose. You need a little psychology, too. A scent can trigger a flood of memories. At that moment, the perfume on my wrist did just that. Suddenly, I was back in the Game Room, feeling nauseous this morning from Simon’s cigar scent, the one I had also picked up in his room. At the time, I knew there were other competing aromas, but I had not paused to think of them. This time, however, I realized that one of the scents was now on my wrist.

  My hand started to shake. I opened Gina’s purse once more and read the note.

  Tinkerbell.

  The cat. Tinker.

  The new tattoo on Simon’s shoulder. A bell.

  I tried to remember his handwriting from the note I’d seen in Joe’s wastebasket, but I couldn’t. Either way, some things clicked together. Jessica had said that the Sterling brothers’ land was in Italy. Now Gina, the Italian diva, had made an unlikely trip to Nantucket.

  I knew that I had to look for motives to solve Simon Sterling’s murder. I had no idea what Gina’s motive would be for killing Simon, but he did tend to upset those around him. And I’d put my money on the fact that Gina and Simon had been together in that Game Room last night.

  I called Andy. I had so much to tell him, starting with my discovery of the woman from the photo I’d seen at the Nantucket Inn by the airport, and ending with my theories about Gina Ginelli.

  I got no answer.

  I left a message for Andy to call me as I watched the Dove Guy’s truck amble up the road.

  Chapter 14

  “Gary?” I said to a man in jeans and a hoodie, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, as he got out of a van that read The Dove Guy along its side. “Stella Wright. I’m assisting Emily Gardner tonight. Let me show you where we’d like to release the birds.”

  I brought Gary back around to a patio outside of Ahab’s. Since we were beside the harbor, the wind was a little crisp, so we were not going to use the outdoor space for cocktails. Everything would be inside. Fortunately, the restaurant had a fine view, and I indicated the perfect spot for the birds to be released. Gary circled the space like Andy might if he were searching for a clue. He kicked the ground, looking for the best place to position his bird pen, filled with a dozen beautiful birds that would fly a couple of miles back to their base once released.

  I left Gary to it and entered Ahab’s to make a final inspection of the space. Inside, I saw Tony at the mahogany bar nestled into a corner nook of the restaurant. He was the only guest in Ahab’s and he was on his phone. Everyone else was either getting dressed or having a pre-dinner cocktail in the lobby before we opened the doors for dinner. I adjusted a flower or two, wondering what Emily would do. I wasn’t sure if I should ask him to join the others or let him finish his conversation. I decided that if Tony was going to hang around on my turf, he could answer a few questions for me.

  “Yes, honey,” I heard him say as I scooted behind the bar in search for peanuts. “Well, that’s a little unfair.”

  I noticed that with Bill’s arrest, a substitute bartender had been called in, and he was now getting his head around the stock. I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I opened my own can of peanuts and poured them into a bowl. Tony took a healthy swig of what looked like a whiskey, neat. He glanced in my direction, but my presence didn’t faze him.

  “He’s my best friend,” he said into the phone.

  His shoulders sagged as he listened to the other end of the line. Something about his tone suggested that his wife was speaking to him.

  “I know the twins are a handful,” he said. “I wish you could be here with me, but as you said, we just can’t afford babysitting and travel for the both of us . . . I’m not going wild here.... I haven’t spent a penny since I’ve been here. The Sterlings are covering everything.”

  I wondered if he’d be more tactful about what he was saying if his friends were in here, instead of me.

  “Listen, you can check every charge I’ve made once the credit card bill comes,” he said.

  Whatever his wife had said, it seemed like she decided to back off. Tony touched his hand to his temple in some relief and smiled into the phone.

  “OK,” he said. “Scout’s honor. Except for a little bag of candy from the sweet store in town for you and the kids, not a penny. And I miss you. Joe’s got his hands full here. I’ve never been to a wedding where a family member actually dies. I mean, I know everyone wants to kill each other at weddings, but this was off the charts.”

  He shared a laugh with his wife.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “They caught the guy. Otherwise, I’d be on the first ferry out of here.”

  I snagged a stool at the bar. I smiled at him, and popped a few peanuts into my mouth.

  “Got to go,” said Tony to his wife. “Love you.”

  “Hey,” said Tony, putting his phone into his pocket. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” I said at his understatement of the century. I mean, I was wearing couture. That qualifies for more than nice. On the other hand, I respected that his interest in his wife was stronger than the dazzle of a knock-’em-dead outfit.

  “Ready for the weekend?” I said.

  “Crazy wedding.”

  I had to agree.

  “How are you friends with Joe, anyway?” I asked.

  “We went to school together,” he said. “We grew up on one side of the tracks. Jessica grew up on the other side. Maria is from our side, too. Jess and Maria became friends during their senior year in high school. They were both pitches or whatever it’s called of their schools’ singing groups. She introduced Joe to Jessica. Then Jessica joined the gym Joe was working at. He was her trainer, you know.”

  “So, he’s marrying a girl from the other side of the tracks?” I said. “That’s romantic.”

  “I guess,” said Tony.

  “You kind of sound like you disagree with me.”

  “Nah,” he said. “Although Joe’s gone soft around the midsection since he’s hit the high life. Not good for a trainer.”

  Tony reached over to my bowl of peanuts and began to munch on them. I was having a hard time cutting a break in the food department.

  ” Whatever,” said Tony. “Weddings are just a fortune.”

  Normally, I would understand his gripe, but I remembered Tony, not a moment ago, telling his wife that the Sterlings were covering everything.

  “What did you get them for a gift?” I said, thinking of his trip to the expensive gift shop.

  “Nothing yet,” said Tony. “They’re registered everywhere though.”

  “I’m sure your wife can help you pick something out,” I said.

  “No way,” said Tony. “I told my wife it was a no-gift wedding. She’s already so mad I had to come here. We just had twins.”

  I was going to do the usual thing and ask to see a picture of the babies, but my phone pinged a text from Emily.

  How’s it going? Sterlings OK?

  The Sterlings! I’d checked on the Dove Guy, done a tour of the restaurant to make sure the room was set up. Unfortunately, I’d not touched base with the Sterlings.

  Everything good! I responded.

  “Tony,” I said. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Cheers!” he said.

  Rather than kick him out, I decided to let Tony have a few moments of peace
and quiet. Slipping out of the restaurant, I raced to the service elevator. Race is an exaggeration since the tight skirt only allowed me to take delicate steps. Anyway, I raced there in spirit, and pressed the call button. Frank approached and joined me. He was holding a small jug of flowers.

  “Guest in Room 10 is allergic to lilies, so I’m replacing them,” he said.

  I nodded. “I’m checking on the Sterlings, but otherwise everything looks great for tonight.”

  “We’ve got you covered,” Frank said with an earnest look that put me at ease. “Are you OK?”

  “I guess,” I said and focused on the descending floor dial over the elevator. “I still keep thinking about the murder. Out of curiosity, what did everyone do before dinner last night?”

  “I don’t think they did anything,” said Frank. “People are usually pretty tired when they get here. Simon Sterling got antsy, and went for a walk. Mrs. Sterling forgot to go hit the ATM, so she had a van run her into town before dinner to get some money. Otherwise, I think that was it. Usual stuff.”

  “And none of those guests who checked out this morning knew anyone connected to the Sterlings?”

  “No,” said Frank.

  The elevator door opened.

  “I’m heading by Room 10,” I said. “Let me drop these for you.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” he said. “And that outfit is a knockout.”

  I smiled as the elevator door closed on me. A moment later, it opened to the third floor. I tapped on the door of Room 10. The occupants gratefully swapped vases with me. Then I continued to Jessica’s room with lilies in hand.

  “Those are beautiful,” said Jessica when she opened the door. “Can you put them on the desk? I’m just getting my earrings on.”

  “Of course,” I said. I headed to the desk by the window. “I’m just checking to see if you guys need anything. Emily is resting so she can be your superhero tomorrow, but I’ve got you covered tonight.”