Derek nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Meg is coming, too.”
“I’ll pick you both up,” Derek said.
“Thank you,” Mom whispered.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine now, but the police interrogation was a little harsh.”
“Harsh?” I was outraged. Maybe I would keep calling him Stevie after all. “Why? What did he ask you?”
“Oh, it wasn’t Stevie’s fault,” Mom said. “For the life of me, I just couldn’t remember a few details from last night. I was just so nervous. Stevie said he would probably come back to ask more questions, maybe later this afternoon or tomorrow.”
So Mom had been unnerved by Stevie’s presence, too. Sort of like me. Weird.
“Did you tell him about Banyan’s threats and outbursts?”
“Well, no. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with poor Lawson.”
“But he threatened Lawson, too.”
“Oh, I mentioned that.”
“That’s good, Mom, but in case you forgot, Banyan has threatened you a bunch of times. Stevie needs to know that.”
“I suppose so. I’ll give him a call.”
“Never mind. Derek and I already told him.”
“Oh, dear. I hope you didn’t upset him.”
“Upset Stevie? You’re the one who’s upset.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, actually.”
“Then explain it to me,” Derek said.
“Mom thinks that if she upsets Stevie, he might accuse her of murder.”
He was taken aback. “You’re joking.”
I shook my head.
“After all, Derek,” Mom said. “We were the first ones on the scene.”
“Rebecca,” Derek said, clearly trying to keep calm. “Your fears are unfounded. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise you.”
“Derek, you are such a sweetie,” Mom said, but I could tell she was still feeling tense. Worried.
“Mother, Lawson Schmidt is over six feet tall and weighs twice as much as you do. How does Stevie figure you could’ve subdued him long enough to break a wine bottle and cut his throat?”
“Well, goodness,” she said, her voice sounding a little wobbly. “You make a good point.”
I winced a little. I hadn’t wanted to see the scene myself, yet I’d just managed to draw it for my mother in living color.
“I’m sorry to be so graphic, Mom. But I’m annoyed by this whole situation.” Thankfully my irritation was quickly swamping my nerves. Why should we be nervous? None of us had done anything. Stevie should be the nervous one. He had a murder to solve.
“Who would kill Lawson?” I wondered aloud. “And why would they do it in your committee meeting room? What’s really going on here?”
“Oh dear, now you’re the one who’s stressed.” Her voice had changed. She sounded like she was soothing a wounded puppy dog. “Take a few minutes, sweetie. Do some stretching exercises and breathe deeply. You don’t want to clog up your chakras, do you? Derek wouldn’t be happy about that.”
Derek grinned.
“Mom, I’m begging you.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. “Stop. Please.”
“Don’t be shy, sweetie,” she said pleasantly. “If you need an alignment, I’ll make an appointment for you.”
Alarmed, I glanced at Derek who was laughing so hard that he’d fallen back on the couch and then rolled onto his side. I scowled at him. For a dignified, dangerous security agent, it wasn’t attractive.
But I couldn’t blame him. One of the chakras was responsible for our sexual and creative energies—and Derek knew this because my mother had told him. That’s right. She had pulled him aside the night before our wedding to fill him in on all that good woo-woo stuff. Talk about mortifying! Just the sort of heart-to-heart talk a man wanted to have with his future mother-in-law.
“Jeez, Mom. Really?”
“Or I could do an enchantment spell for you.”
“Maybe you should think about doing a protection spell on yourself, Mom.”
She paused to consider it. “Sweetie, that’s a lovely idea. We’ll do it tonight.”
I blinked. Was I crazy? Why did I say that? I managed to end the call and then stared back at Derek who was still grinning like a fool.
“You’re not being helpful,” I said.
Which only made him start laughing again.
Chapter 7
A little before one o’clock that afternoon we picked up Mom and Meg and drove to the town hall. The police had sealed up the usual room until the crime scene techs were finished gathering evidence, so we were led down the hall to another meeting room.
Earlier I had placed a call to Inspector Lee, just to cover my bases. I had to leave a lengthy message, letting her know that she might hear from Detective Willoughby about Lawson’s murder. I also invited her to come to the book festival if she wasn’t busy. It had been a few months since I had seen her.
As the committee members arrived, Mom stood out in the hall to greet and direct them to the new room. This time I took a closer look at Ryan, the young man who was Shandi’s personal assistant. He really was a good-looking guy.
When they all were seated around the table, Mom banged her gavel to get everyone’s attention. “Most of you have probably heard the news by now that Lawson Schmidt was killed last night.”
“That’s terrible,” Ryan said. “Is there anything we can do for his family?”
“Thank you for asking, Ryan,” my mother said. “The police are still investigating, but I’ll call his brother this afternoon and see what arrangements are being made.”
“That’s really sad,” Marybeth whispered, her eyes damp with tears. This was the woman whose name I had forgotten the first day. She wasn’t in the Fellowship, but she had always seemed friendly enough. I remembered seeing her in the tasting room at Misty Vineyards. Did she work there? Did she lose her job when Banyan took over?
Saffron was whimpering loudly, then she turned to my mother and screamed. “How could you?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Mom muttered.
“Saffron,” Winston barked. “Pipe down.”
Jan Yarnell rolled his eyes. “She’s ridiculous.”
“You killed him,” Saffron shrieked, jumping to her feet and starting toward my mother with raised fists.
Derek was up and charging at Saffron before I even saw him move. He grabbed Saffron’s arm and gently but forcefully led her back to her chair.
“Sit down,” he said with so much deadly authority that Saffron just gaped at him.
Saffron gulped, then nodded.
Mom shot Derek a grateful look and banged her gavel several times. “We all mourn the loss of Lawson. He was our friend and neighbor, a voracious reader and an avid book collector. From day one he was instrumental in helping us turn this little festival idea into a world-class event.” She paused to sniff with emotion and dab her nose with a tissue, then continued. “Lawson was adamant that the book festival be a joyful and educational experience, so we must all stick together to make sure his wishes are fulfilled.”
“Here, here,” Jan said loudly.
“And no more screaming and accusing,” Penny Lewis said, holding her hands over her ears. “That’s just not helpful.”
Penny was a thin, pretty woman who always appeared to be on edge. She owned three cats and called herself a swinging spinster. According to Mom, Penny was a little cranky but a wiz at contacting agents to convince them to send their authors to our festival.
Saffron stuck out her tongue at Penny, who flipped her off. It seemed like the right response.
“You should’ve smacked her,” I muttered to Derek. I knew that wasn’t his style and it wasn’t my style either. But Saffron needed to be taken down
.
Saffron’s shoulders slumped and she idly straightened her loose linen jacket. And that was when I noticed that she was missing a button.
“I should call the police,” I whispered.
Derek turned to me. “Let’s see if she calms down.”
“She won’t,” I protested. “She’s out of control.” And she might be a killer, I thought. The missing button was a glaring clue. I wanted to shout it out, but managed to hold my tongue. Maybe she had lost the button while ironing or something. But then again, her linen jacket was so wrinkled, it looked as if it had never been ironed before.
I took a few breaths. Saffron wasn’t going anywhere, so I decided I would wait to mention the missing button to Derek rather than turn the entire meeting into a free-for-all.
“Put the phone away, love,” he murmured.
“All right, but I don’t trust her.” Reluctantly I slipped the phone into my pocket.
“Nor do I.”
I leaned in close to Derek and whispered, “What if she lies to the police about my mother?”
“Everyone on the committee is a witness to her behavior,” he reasoned. “We won’t let her get away with any lies.”
Meg whispered, “She’s ridiculous, isn’t she?”
I smiled. “Yes, she is.”
Mom had the gavel in her hand again and pounded it several times to regain order. “I want you all to be aware that the police will want to interview each of you. They’ll be calling to set up interview times. The sooner you can speak to the police, the sooner this awful situation will be taken care of. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such horrible news, but I wanted to let you all know as soon as possible.”
“Why didn’t you just phone us?” Saffron asked, her tone subdued but still belligerent. “Why did we have to come in? I have a shop to run. I don’t have time for this.”
It’s like she couldn’t learn a lesson. Was she just stupid? Or was there something else going on? Maybe she knew who killed Lawson.
“A moment ago, you were bereft over Lawson,” Mom pointed out wryly. “Now you’re saying you’re too busy to show up and support him?”
“I didn’t say that.” Saffron sniffed at invisible tears. “I just asked why we all have to be here.”
“The reason we all have to be here,” Mom explained, “is because in light of Lawson’s death, we have some urgent matters that must be dealt with immediately.”
“Whatever.” Saffron sniffed with disdain.
Mom stood up and glared at Saffron.
Meg leaned in close to me. “That Saffron is so unpleasant.”
“She’s an idiot,” I whispered.
Meg nodded. “As you say.”
“Whatever?” Mom repeated. “Really, Saffron? Could you be any more dismissive?” Mom waved her gavel and gave Saffron a hard glare that should have curled her hair. My mother was the most beautiful soul in the world. Calm, patient, understanding—but she had a threshold you would be wise not to cross. As kids, we’d all learned just how far we could push her. Saffron apparently had not yet learned.
“Lawson Schmidt was someone we all knew for years,” Mom continued. “He was a lifelong bachelor, but he had brothers and nieces and nephews who loved him. He was a genial man with a lot of good ideas for our community. And he was met with a truly violent death in our conference room last night. And all you have to say is whatever?”
Saffron glanced around the room, as if looking for support from the other committee members. She didn’t find any because not one person would so much as look at her.
Finally, she huffed out a breath and gave Mom a withering look. “Don’t lecture me.”
“Someone should. Happily that’s not my job.” I had no idea how Mom managed, but she shook off the comment and continued to gaze at Saffron with infinite patience. “I don’t know what happened to you along the road, Saffron. But you took a wrong turn somewhere. You’ve become a tiresome child.”
“How dare you talk to me like that! I’m not a child.”
I thought Mom would respond with some snarky comment. I would’ve. But in that moment, nobody gave the woman any grief at all. Instead, everyone stayed silent. They probably didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t set Saffron off on another rant.
Mom turned away from Saffron and addressed the rest of the committee. “We have work to do.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Jan said, casting a grim sideways glance at Saffron. “We’ve wasted enough time on histrionics.”
“Indeed,” Mom said. She pulled a notepad out of her tote bag—and that was when I realized that she had actually managed to retrieve the tote from her cubby last night before the police arrived.
I’d forgotten all about it, but retrieving her tote bag with her prescription drugs had been the reason she had returned to the town hall after midnight, only to discover Lawson’s blood-soaked body.
I wasn’t about to mention the tote bag to the police because I didn’t think it had any significance to the murder case, other than the fact that she’d forgotten that she left her pills inside it.
“My first agenda item has to do with Lawson’s assignments.” Mom picked up her pen and was poised to write down some information. “How many of you were working with him on his various duties?”
Four people raised their hands: Winston, Ryan, Saffron, and Marybeth.
Nodding, Mom said, “Okay. We’ll discuss each of your responsibilities, but first of all, the co-chair position will need to be filled. Is someone interested in that job?”
“Not me,” Marybeth said cheerfully. “I like being a worker bee.”
“I’ll do it,” a booming voice said.
Everyone in the room turned to look at Jacob Banyan as he entered the room. Saffron beamed. Clearly Banyan had a champion on the committee.
My mother took a deep breath, seemed to settle whichever chakras were jangling, and then replied smoothly, “You aren’t on this committee, Jacob.”
“Maybe not, but you’re short a member, so I’m here to take Lawson’s place.”
“Your grief is overwhelming,” Mom said dryly. “But believe it or not, we can struggle through without your input.”
Banyan snarled like an angry dog. “I’m pretty sick of your smart mouth.”
I started to stand, but Derek put one hand on my arm to stall me. “Your mother can handle him.”
“Why should she have to?” I whispered back.
“Just wait,” my suddenly patient husband urged.
He was right, as I found out a moment later.
Clearly used to getting his own way, Banyan looked furious and frustrated. He swept his gaze over everyone in the room before turning back to my mother. “This fight isn’t over, Rebecca.”
My mother lifted her chin, met his stare, and said, “As far as I’m concerned, it is.”
“Shouldn’t we take a vote?” Saffron asked.
“No!” Jan shouted, before Mom could speak. “This isn’t a popularity contest. We need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing and who’s aware of what projects Lawson had been working on and which vendors he had contacted. It should also be someone dedicated to carrying out the festival committee’s goals, not just their own agenda.”
“Thank you, Jan,” Mom said with a grateful smile. She dismissed Saffron without a word and turned to face her committee. “Is there anyone on the committee who’s willing to take on Lawson’s duties?”
“I’ll do it,” Winston said, then fired one quick glance at Banyan, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what the man had tried to pull off.
“Thank you, Winston,” Mom said. Looking at Banyan, she added, “And thank you for your interest, Mr. Banyan, but the position has been filled.”
Banyan bared his teeth. “Your snooty attitude is going to get you into trouble one of these
days.”
Mom stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure you could be more condescending, but I know you’ll keep trying.”
She continued to glare at him, as if willing him to say another word. At the same time, Derek remained in his chair, but began to crack his knuckles.
Distracted by the sound, Banyan turned to see where it had come from. His lip curled in disgust. “I see you’ve got your henchman with you.”
Derek calmly continued to crack his knuckles, something I’d never seen him do before.
Fuming with anger, Banyan turned and stomped toward the door. Whirling back around, he shook his finger at my mother. “Like I said, this isn’t over.”
“He does that finger-wiggling thing a lot,” I whispered to Meg.
Meg shook her head. “Some people think it makes others bend to their will. Which is silly, don’t you agree?”
I smothered a laugh. Her British accent made her sound so prim and proper. I loved it.
Mom sighed. “Will someone please close the door?”
Ryan started to stand, but Marybeth beat him to it.
“I’ll do it,” she said eagerly. Her dark ponytail bounced as she crossed to the door. We could still hear the sound of Banyan’s boots as he clomped down the hall.
“Thanks, dear,” Mom said.
“My pleasure.” She closed the door and locked it.
Derek had been right, I thought. My mother had handled the situation beautifully. She hadn’t needed me to jump up and defend her. And if I had done what I’d so wanted to do, I might have made it look as though she couldn’t do the job.
“Thanks,” I whispered, taking Derek’s hand.
“Anytime,” he said softly.
“And kudos on the knuckle-cracking.”
Derek just grinned and flexed his fingers for effect.
“All righty, let’s move on.” Mom smiled. “First, thank you again, Winston. I really appreciate you stepping up and I know you’ll do a wonderful job as co-chair of the committee.”
He saluted. “I’m here to serve.”
“As we all are.” Mom’s smile included everyone seated at the table. “Now, can anyone tell me where Lawson kept the festival checkbook and the petty cash box?”
The Grim Reader Page 11