“Aren’t these emerging Christmas decorations lovely?” Eileen slowed.
The group gathered around her as she studied a nativity scene in the window of the local watering hole, Wine One One.
After a short while, Sherry edged forward, as did Marla, but Eileen stayed still. “You okay, Eileen?”
“I’m a bit exhausted from all of today’s activities. My day is usually weeding, lunch, reading, dinner. The added excitement of a public spectacle has suddenly drained me. I just need a minute.”
Sherry glanced down the row of stores. “Let’s go into Sal and Effi’s cleaners. It’s only two stores down. I know they’ll let you have a seat. We’ll pick you up in the car in a few minutes.”
“I wouldn’t mind. It’s been a long day. I’m in a full sugar low right now,” Eileen said.
“That’s exactly what’s going on. I feel the same dip in energy,” Sherry said.
Sherry and Marla sandwiched Eileen for the next two blocks. They stopped in the doorway of the Shore Cleaners.
“Let’s go inside and explain ourselves. They’ll understand.” Sherry held the door open.
Marla hooked her arm around Eileen’s elbow and steered her inside.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Sal announced from behind the cash register.
The noise of the conveyor mechanism transporting clean clothes to the sales counter nearly drowned out the owner’s welcome.
“Who’s picking up today? Did you bring your ticket?”
“I’m afraid we’re dropping off Eileen, if that’s all right. I parked so far from the Ruggery, it’s a challenge to drum up the energy to get to the town lot. We’ve already had an exhausting day. Marla and I will be back in a few minutes with the car to pick her up.”
“Now that’s a unique drop-off if I’ve ever heard one,” Sal said.
“Good day, ladies,” Effi sang out as she appeared from the depths of the laundry-filled room. “Sherry, my favorite cookie judge. So nice to see you.”
Sherry was happy Effi garnered no ill will against her for not choosing her cookie as the winner.
“Hello, Effi. I was explaining to Sal why Eileen would love to have a seat here while I run to get the car.”
“Anything for Augustin’s best cookie baker,” Effi said.
“Did you hear that? I’m Augustin’s best cookie baker.” Eileen’s eyes twinkled as her smile lines framed her grin.
“Yes, you are,” Sherry confirmed. “At least for one year.”
“Too bad about that young man, Crosby Currier. Sounds like he met a grim end down at the marina,” Sal said.
“The family has been one of our longest-running customers, although I hadn’t laid eyes on any of them for months until the bake-off,” Effi said.
Sherry was struck with a thought. “Effi, you’ve reminded me of something. Sal, when you and Effi were approaching the judge’s table with Effi’s cookies, you said a word to Crosby.”
Sal furrowed his brow. “Yes, come to think of it, you’re correct.”
Sherry hesitated before continuing. She summoned her gentlest tone. “He must have been wishing you both good luck in the bake-off?”
“Sherry, dear. You’re not fooling anyone,” Effi said in her singsong voice.
Sherry’s eyebrows lifted as her gaze darted in Effi’s direction.
“Why don’t you come right out and ask Sal what he and Crosby said to each other? I did.”
Sherry’s cheeks warmed. “Okay. What did you two say to each other?”
“I’ll tell you, like I told Effi,” Sal said. “It’s no big secret. Rachel Currier dropped off a coat a long time ago, end of last winter, I believe. I’d have to check the ticket at this point for the exact date. The store’s policy is, if no one picks up an item after an extended length of time, we donate the piece. We’re not a storage facility. Rachel said it was Ivy’s. She said her mother-in-law lent her the coat, and it was soiled. Then she wouldn’t pick it up, even after multiple reminders.” Sal raised both hands high. “What am I supposed to do about an unclaimed coat when I know who it belongs to? But I would like to get paid.”
“Don’t leave us hanging,” Marla said. “What was Crosby’s reply?”
“He said Rachel wasn’t his wife anymore. He also said his mother had passed away. He said I could do what I wanted with the coat. I told him the pockets weren’t empty when I received the coat. After cleaning, I returned the item to the pocket. He didn’t show any interest in finding out what that item was.”
Sherry wondered if Marla had the same thought as she. When she saw her sister open her mouth, she was certain she did.
“Is the coat here? May we see it?” Marla asked. “I mean, technically, the coat no longer has an owner, so you wouldn’t be violating anyone’s privacy.”
Effi stepped forward. “Eileen, please have a seat.” She pointed to two chairs outside the tiny fitting and alterations changing room.
“Thank you, I thought you all forgot about me. What’s all this fuss over a coat?” Eileen took a seat. “I will admit, this is getting interesting.”
“Yes, the coat is in-house. I just moved it to the room for unloved garments downstairs. I’ll be right back.” Sal shuffled away on his short legs dressed in baggy, cuffed dress slacks.
When Sal was out of sight, Effi motioned Sherry closer. “I want to show you something. Sal would never mention it because he thinks business will suffer, but I’m scared to death.”
“What is it?” The concern Sherry had for Effi caused her voice to crack.
Effi lifted the well-worn cash register to reveal a sheet of paper. She wriggled the paper out from under the machine and handed it to Sherry. Marla peered over her sister’s shoulder.
“I can’t see from here. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Eileen called out.
Sherry put up her index finger to indicate she would advise Eileen as soon as she herself knew what was going on. Sherry read the words printed in a large, blocky font. “Mind Your Own Business Or Else!” She handed the paper back to Effi, who received it with a shaky hand.
“We don’t even know what business we’re supposed to be minding, or not minding.”
“Not the best print job.” Marla pulled away from Sherry’s shoulder. “Mystery threatening person could have sprung for a cleaner sheet of paper.”
“Would you mind if I snap a picture?” Sherry pulled out her phone.
“No, but please hurry. Sal doesn’t want anyone to know we received this. It was slipped under the door, and we found it on Monday when we came in to work. He’s not telling the police and won’t allow me to even bring up the notion. Says we’ll lose too much business.”
Sherry clicked a photo and Effi returned the paper to its hiding place. Sherry tucked away her phone.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be showing you Ivy’s coat. Maybe that’s the business we shouldn’t be minding.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone threaten you about a coat? I wouldn’t worry too much.” As Sherry spoke the words, she realized she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“Sorry for the wait. Here’s the coat. Looks like it’s your size, if you want it. Try it on. Its next stop is the thrift store.” Sal pulled the plastic bag over the baby-blue wool coat and passed the garment to Sherry. “Mirror’s behind Eileen in the fitting room.”
Sherry handed her jacket to Marla. In the fitting room, she slipped on the timeless duffel coat.
“Do you like it? It’s such a beauty. I’m sure it was very expensive,” Effi said.
Sherry admired the coat’s fit as she gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The color was the only sticking point. Baby blue might have been popular years ago, but it was impractical with Sherry’s active lifestyle.
“Very nice, dear,” Eileen said. “Reminds me of the style my mother used to wear before she passed away. Bless her heart. Has a bit of an odor, though, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sherry used a more critical eye assess
ing the A-line drape of the coat. Nice for hiding figure flaws. She plunged her hands in the spacious pockets and struck a pose. Her admiration was interrupted by the sharp edge of something in the pocket jabbing her palm. She withdrew her hand with the something clutched tight. She inspected the greeting card, adorned with a colorful beach scene. She opened it and read the simple note. “Aloha, my love.”
“Sherry, this isn’t a Paris fashion show. What’s taking you so long? Let’s see how it fits,” Marla called out.
“Coming.” Sherry stepped out of the fitting room and gave her best imitation of a fashion runway twirl.
Her sister’s expression drooped.
“The color, right? A little too last decade.”
“Might come back in style. Fashionistas always say, ‘what’s old will soon be new,’ ” Marla said. “Could use a day to air out.” She waved her hand across her nose.
“I love it. I always admired my mother’s fashion choices. If I weren’t smaller than you, I’d take it. Might need a touch more alteration. Old clothes have that distinctive, musty smell. This coat is more pungent than usual,” Eileen said.
The thought of styling herself after Eileen or her mother helped seal the deal.
“Not for me,” Sherry said. “I’m sure it’ll find the right owner. You say it was Rachel who dropped it off?”
“Yes,” said Sal. “She did mention it was her mother-in-law’s, though. She was only borrowing it. Now none of the Curriers want it. Can’t figure people out.”
“We don’t have to. As long as they need dry cleaning, that’s all that matters,” Effi added.
“And pay us for our service,” Sal added. “That matters, too.”
“Thank you for showing me the coat. You’re right. It will find a nice home. It’s lovely.” Sherry handed Sal the coat and the hanger.
“I’ll put it back under the Currier name and give them a longer grace period. Maybe Rachel will change her mind when she sees it next to her other cleaning.”
“Hope so.” Sherry envisioned the card inside the pocket. “But I doubt it. We’ll be back in a few minutes with the car, Eileen.”
“No need. I’m all rested.” Eileen stood. “I can make the walk back to the car.”
“Thank you, Sal. Thank you, Effi.” Sherry held the door open. “Oh, and Effi, I’ll be in touch soon about that little matter.”
“I look forward to hearing from you,” Effi said.
Chapter 15
In the parking lot, the car next to Sherry’s began to back out as she crossed behind it. She held up her hand to ensure the driver saw her. The brake lights went on and the car jerked to a stop.
The driver rolled down the window. “I’m so sorry.” Patti leaned her head partially out of the car. “Sherry. Just the person I was going to email. Hold on one sec.”
“The doors are unlocked. I’ll be right there,” Sherry said to Eileen and Marla, who got inside Sherry’s car.
Patti opened her car door and waved a sheet of paper in front of Sherry’s face. “I was on my way home to type up the article and email it to you. The newsroom’s network is down while the tech team does mysterious, and probably unnecessary, upgrades. We all have to work offline. Only one printer is working in the whole building and it isn’t wireless.”
Sherry shook her head. “So old-fashioned.” She laughed. “Yes! I got your article done at least. The queue was so long, this took an hour to print. I could have read the whole thing over the phone to you faster than waiting for my turn. Trying to send it to the printer using the one available cable was a feat of magic all in itself. No email in the office, nothing. No one uses a cable anymore. Silly me. I didn’t bother bringing in my laptop today, which I fully regret. That wouldn’t have worked anyway if the network was down.” Patti groaned.
“No worries. I’ll retype it for you on my laptop. I’m on my way home to pull the newsletter together. You need a break.”
“Thank you. I’m so spoiled, having the latest and greatest technology available at my fingertips that when it’s not available, I become a big baby.” She handed Sherry her printout.
“I’m going to keep moving. My poor neighbor, Eileen, is exhausted.” Sherry gestured toward her car. The passenger doors were open. “We attended a cookie meet and greet after I dragged her to the Historical Society to gather information for my article.”
“Anyone trying to keep up with your activities is a superhero. She’ll love the bake-off recap. Her cookies were so good. I snuck a few from her tray before she left. See you soon.”
“Bye-bye.” Sherry made her way around Patti’s car and joined Marla and Eileen. “We’re finally on the way home.”
After Sherry dropped off Eileen, she turned to Marla. “I’d like to go to Sunset Village, but I have to get the newsletter together now. Would you mind if we went there first thing in the morning?”
Marla kept her sights out the windshield. “Sure. Any time, as long as it’s before dinner. I’ve changed my plans once again. While you were out with Eileen and Ruth this afternoon, I had a long conversation with Amber and Dad. I bought a return plane ticket back home and I’m leaving tomorrow night.”
Instead of backing the car out of Eileen’s driveway, Sherry waited for Marla to meet her gaze. She studied her younger sister for signs of whether the trip home was something she was happy about or the contrary. Marla’s stoic expression offered no clues.
“Are you okay with going home a few days early?” Sherry asked. “You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you want or need to.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Marla said simply. There was a moment of silence. “So, what did you guys learn at the Historical Society?”
Sherry backed up her car. One more turn of the wheel and it was in her own driveway. “Let’s get inside and I’ll fill you in. I’m really going to need your help sorting through fire photos and articles.”
Chutney greeted his owner at the door with all the enthusiasm of a dog who’s aware his afternoon meal is late. After he was fed, Sherry and Marla took a seat at the kitchen table.
They spent time looking at the Augustin Marina fire photos and related articles. “The marina fire was devastating and spelled the end of the Augustin Yacht Club. Lonnie’s job ended the day of the fire. Cap Diminsky clearly felt Crosby set the fire in retaliation for what he believed was his father’s mistreatment of his mother. Pointing a finger at someone without one hundred percent proof positive is risky business.”
“Risky because of what the person under suspicion is put through?”
“Yes, and what if Crosby decided he needed payback for all he was put through being a suspect.”
“But as far as we know, the case was dropped and that was that. Crosby’s death probably had nothing to do with the fire. How could it? The fire was so long ago. Wouldn’t you agree?” Marla asked.
“So far, like the fire, the evidence in the murder investigation isn’t pointing one hundred percent in any certain direction. Twenty years ago, Crosby was never charged with a crime because the evidence hit a dead end at some point.”
“It’s a stretch that there’s a connection.”
“Consider this. Crosby’s body was found at the marina. Tied to an anchor. Has to be significant. A parting shot at Crosby. A calling card, in a sense. Some sort of satisfaction received for the trouble of setting up the crime scene in such a way.”
“Or a diversion?” Marla asked.
“Possibly.”
“Let’s put the diversion theory on ice for the time being. Back up a minute. If Crosby was guilty of arson, everyone with a boat damaged or destroyed in the fire would be his enemy. But why wait so many years after the fire for retaliation?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?” Marla asked.
“I think the field of suspects is a lot slimmer than meets the eye. The list includes his father, Lonnie, who lost his livelihood in the fire; Vitis, who seems to hold a powerful grudge against Crosby for destroyi
ng the Augustin landmark; Rachel, who is Lonnie’s close ally and Crosby’s biggest critic.”
“That’s a crowded field, not a slim one,” Marla said.
“My feeling is, the fire might be related, but I’m not so sure it’s the motivating factor behind the murder.”
“Your phone is buzzing.” Marla pointed toward the front door. “It’s on the hall table.”
Sherry scooted back her chair and raced to the phone. Under the table, Chutney stirred from a nap and began barking.
“Hi, Ray.” Sherry walked back into the kitchen. “Shhh.”
“Shhh?”
“Chutney. Not you, Ray. I startled the dog. What can I do for you?”
“A search of Crosby’s car has yielded an interesting item. A document from the Connecticut Department of Motor Vehicles filled out with a request to change the name of his boat.”
“Is that unusual?” Sherry asked.
“The boat in question is currently named Rachel’s Way. The application was a request to change the name to Sweet Revenge.”
Sherry’s gaze met Marla’s, and she raised her palms in question.
“What’s he saying?” Marla asked.
“Crosby wanted his boat to be renamed Sweet Revenge. The current name is Rachel’s Way,” Sherry whispered as an aside to Marla. Sherry clicked on her phone’s Speaker button. “Sounds like he’s not over her. Unless the revenge is aimed toward someone else?” She knew Ray wasn’t going to answer her speculative question. “If this is the boat my friend Don was purchasing from Crosby, why the last-minute name change?”
“What was the date on the application?” Marla whispered.
“What was the date on the name change application?” Sherry relayed Marla’s question to Ray.
Sherry heard paper rustling through the phone.
“I can hear we’re on Speaker. No need to whisper,” Ray said.
Sherry winced.
Double Chocolate Cookie Murder Page 13