Miz Scarlet and the Imposing Imposter

by Sara M. Barton

  “He looks better,” I suggested to my companion. I heard a slight scoff of disgust at my assessment.

  “He looks like death warmed over.”

  “At least he got the surgery. That’s done. No more days of waiting or anticipation.” I admit it. I was trying to spin this into a positive. Big mistake.

  “It wasn’t fair,” said the elderly woman, her eyes welling up with tears. “It was my fault. I should have taken him out for a drive like we planned. We wouldn’t have been there when those horrible thugs came through the front door.”

  “You said those men went to the carriage house. Maybe if you hadn’t been there, Bur and Laurel would have been killed.” I said it as evenly as I could, holding back my own relief, knowing how close I had come to losing my own family today. “You and Paul used your heads. You survived. As terrible as it was, things might have been worse.”

  “Scarlet, I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but right now, I’m just so angry.” There was a bitterness in that warning to me. Give her a little breathing room. Let her figure it out for herself. We almost lost Laurel and Bur today. We have much to be grateful for, but it takes time to appreciate that.

  Chapter Fifteen --

  “I know. I’m sorry, Lacey. It’s been a very, very bad day. I’m just glad you’re still here with us. Now I’ll stop talking.” I squeezed her shoulder before I took a physical step back and let my arm fall away. “Shall we go?”

  We got to the elevator before she spoke again. “Don’t mind me, dear. I’m in a foul mood. I know you want to help. Forgive me for snapping at you.”

  “Don’t apologize. You went through a lot today and I’m glad you survived it. You go ahead and say what you mean, and if I act like an insensitive jerk, you feel free to set me straight.” I pushed the button for the lobby.

  “It’s true, though. If Paul and I hadn’t been there, Laurel and Bur would have been. She would have been alone with those killers in the house. And what if they found Bur in the carriage house?” She sighed. “At least I wasn’t alone. I had Paul with me. He’s the one who said we should go up to your rooms.”

  “Smart man.” Ah, the healing begins. Shades of Laurel’s recovery from the accident that changed our lives all those years ago.

  “Nice man,” she replied, wiping away those spilled tears. “If you have to hide from a couple of killers, he’s a good person for the job.”

  “That he is.”

  “He held my hand the whole time we were in the closet. He didn’t want me to be afraid.” She leaned back against the wall of the elevator, even as we reached our floor and the car gave a little shrug as it came to a halt on the lobby level. Smoothly, almost silently, the doors slid open and we were disembarking. “I hope he’ll make it. I didn’t get a chance to thank him.”

  This time I let her words stand alone. I offered no promises of Paul’s survival, knowing that if I encouraged her to believe and he didn’t make it, she would feel betrayed. Instead, I turned her attention to what awaited us at the inn.

  “Let’s go home. From what Bur said, Laurel’s having a tough time with all this. I think she’ll feel a lot better when she sees you.”

  “Same here.”

  Kenny was out front in the official Four Acorns vehicle. Bur must have decided it was a better choice than his own Mercedes for picking up two shell-shocked women. Typical, I thought to myself. If my brother was going to hand over keys, they might as well be mine. But as I helped Lacey into the front seat and climbed into the seat behind her, I noticed several boxes in plastic bags filling the compartment in the rear. More stuff than would have fit into Bur’s trunk. The bags were emblazoned with the Best Buy logo. Someone had done a little shopping before coming to the hospital.

  The ride back to the inn was a quiet one. None of us was in the mood to talk. Kenny parked by the front door. I opened the door for Lacey and waited for her. A moment later, we climbed the steps up to the front porch. As I inserted my key in the door, it suddenly opened. A uniformed police officer demanded identification in a voice that was uncompromising, determined.

  “That’s my sister,” said Bur. “And Cousin Lacey.”

  We were ushered into the hallway. The cop stuck his head out the door, surveying the landscape. The dogs tried to help him, until I shooed them into the living room.

  “How about a hand with the bags, Wilson?” Kenny queried his buddy as he deposited the first two on the foyer floor. Swiftly turning on his heel, he didn’t bother to wait for Bur’s response. He just expected my brother to follow. The pair of them returned thirty seconds later with two more batches. “I’ll just go put the car in the garage. Why don’t you put these in the library?”

  I helped Bur carry them into Kenny’s guest room. We put them down on the bed.

  “Good news, Miz Scarlet. I’ll be staying here tonight.” My brother announced it so cheerfully, my suspicions were instantly aroused. One look at that smiling face made me think he was up to something. Or he knew something he was keeping a secret. Either way, it was a sign of potential trouble for me.

  “Oh, good,” I said as neutrally as I could. Yes, I could smell it all over him, that guilty scent that always wafted over the landscape during of one of Bur’s schemes. I pushed it aside as I tried to figure out where to put him up. “Well, you can use my pull-out sofa.”

  “I’m not sleeping on the third floor.” Even as he said it, I realized how far away he would be from Laurel and Lacey. Better to have everyone close together, just in case the killers came back.

  “I could put you in Paul’s room for tonight, I suppose.”

  “What’s wrong with the White Oak Room?”

  “Gretchen and Lonnie’s room? Doesn’t that creep you out?”

  “Why? They weren’t murdered there. It’s just a room.”

  “If it doesn’t bother you, that’s fine with me,” was my reply. We headed back to the living room, where Laurel and Lacey were having a very emotional reunion. “Where’s Mary Anne?”

  “I’m right here, Scarlet.” She came through the doors behind us. Her face was concerned, but compassionate. “It’s been a very difficult day for all of you.”

  “Listen,” I started to say, “if you would like us to make arrangements for you to stay somewhere else....”

  “What happened today wasn’t your fault, Scarlet. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve already had a long conversation with the detectives. I’m very confident that the police have this covered. If I left now, I would feel like a rat deserting the ship. And who’s to say I’d be any safer in a hotel? No, this feels like home, so I’m staying.”

  “Have you eaten?” I asked. She laughed. “Your brother picked up a meal at Boston Market. I put the leftovers in the fridge.”

  “Great. Well, I don’t know about any of you, but I could use a glass of wine.” It was true. I just needed to sit down and sip a nice glass of shiraz, something with a fudgy note. I wanted to savor something pleasant in the aftermath of the hellacious hours we endured.

  “Shall I pour?” Bur made himself useful as the group gathered by the gas fireplace. I went to the kitchen, sliced some good cheddar, added it to some whole grain crackers on a platter, and then, as an afterthought, arranged some red seedless grapes and apple slices. That’s where Kenny found me.

  “Hey,” he greeted me, looking guarded. “Any chance you have an objection to me using your Mac?”

  “Heavens, no. Help yourself.”

  “What I mean is I need to take it over. Reconfigure it.”

  “Sure. What do you need, the login info?”

  “Mmm....”

  “Out with it.”

  “Excuse me?” Kenny’s blue eyes lit on me.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “What makes you think I’m not telling you something?” His long, slim fingers reached for the goodies on the platter and he helped himself. Without even thinking, I rearranged the slices of cheese to cover the gap he left. I couldn’t hel
p it. I was serving guests.

  “Bur picked up a Boston Market meal. We’ve got some chicken in the fridge. Want me to fix you a plate?”

  “Yeah. I could eat a little something.”

  I pulled out the packaged leftovers, grabbed a plate, and gave Kenny a couple of tablespoons, so he could help himself. While he did that, I took the platter into the living room.

  “Bon appétit!” I smiled, placing it on the cocktail table in front of Lacey and Laurel. Bur immediately reached over and snagged a couple of grapes. “I’ll be back.”

  Kenny was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, when I came back into the kitchen.

  “I’m trying to decide if I should trust you,” he said.

  “Really?” I met his gaze. “And what have you decided?”

  “You seem to have a pretty good grasp of reality, Scarlet. I think I can tell you some things and you won’t freak out.”

  “Great. Let’s have it, then.”

  “Not here. Not now. Let me eat first. I’ll need you to help me.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed a length of waxed paper and tucked it around his plate. Opening the microwave door, I placed it on the carousel, closed the door again, and set the time before pushing the start button. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Can I get some coffee? I’m going to be up for a while.”

  “Coffee, it is,” I smiled.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Can I grab a glass of wine first?”

  “Of course.” I headed for the butler’s pantry, where I had an open bottle topped with a vacuum-sealed stopper.

  “Would you like a glass with your dinner? In addition to the coffee?”

  “Why not?”

  “Red or white?”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” was his reply. There was something in his voice that told me Kenny was still hesitant to share with me. What was he going to tell me? How bad could it be? He was acting like I was going to hate him when he finally unburdened himself. People usually only act like this right before they drop a ton of bricks on my head. Even as I poured two glasses and replaced the stopper, I was wary. Carrying the wine back to the kitchen, I studied him, and even as I did, I realized he was doing the same thing to me.

  “The miracle of the microwave -- dinner is served.” I pulled the plate out of the oven and set it down on the counter. “You want to eat in the dining room or join everyone else in the living room?”

  “Definitely the living room.”

  “In that case, let me grab a tray.” I pulled one from the cupboard, put the plate on it, along with a knife, fork, and cotton napkin. Then I turned my attention to making a pot of coffee. Four scoops of organic Sumatra, ground finely, in the basket liner and some water. Once the pot was plugged in and turned on, a little hiss of the steam signaled the start of the process as the element heated up. “Just give it a few minutes.”

  “I have to ask you something, Scarlet. It’s rather awkward.”

  “Sure.” I couldn’t even begin to imagine the subject matter. Did he need money? Did he want to switch rooms?

  There was a long pause as his eyes bore down on me. This wasn’t the Kenny I knew, the boy next-door from my teenage years. This was Kenny, the investigator, on the job.

  “How long was Bur sleeping with Gretchen?”

  “Excuse me?” I admit it. I was stunned. Did I hear Kenny Tolliver right? “How long was Bur doing what?”

  “Sleeping with Gretchen.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would Bur be having an intimate relationship with a woman like Gretchen? She was a guest.”

  “And yet he was.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He’s the one who found her purse.”

  “Bur found her purse?” I flashed back to the conversation we had on the phone, when I called to see what was going on. My brother announced the news as if he had no role in recovering the missing item.

  “He tried not to, but there was a cop with him at the time. He couldn’t hide it.”

  “But, Kenny, those men who killed Lonnie....”

  “I know. That’s what doesn’t fit. I don’t really believe Bur killed Gretchen, but he was definitely more involved than he wants us to know.”

  “Which is why he tried to pull the wool over my eyes,” I decided. I explained to Kenny the sense I had that Bur was plotting something. “He even offered to sleep in the White Oak Room tonight.”

  “And this is important because....”

  “That was the room Gretchen and Lonnie had.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Could he just be trying to cover up the fact that they did the horizontal mambo between the sheets? I’m guessing she visited Bur in his apartment.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he doesn’t want us to know Gretchen came to the inn for that rendezvous. Maybe this wasn’t their first meeting. Doesn’t Bur do a lot of business travel?”

  “Yes. He’s always in Manhattan or Philly a couple times a month. Sometimes Boston. You think the lovers planned this tryst?” Knowing my brother, it was possible. “Could Gretchen have an unforgiving husband or crazy boyfriend?”

  “Lonnie called one of the men ‘Eddie’, so she apparently knew the identity of that particular attacker. But this seems far more involved than just a domestic situation. If you’re a jealous guy, you might go on a rampage and kill your wife or ex-wife. You might also kill your mother-in-law, just as an added bonus for all the times she pissed you off over the years. You might even go after the guy who came between you and wrecked your relationship. But you wouldn’t necessarily bring accomplices to your crime.”

  “True. The pieces don’t fit, do they?”

  “Not unless you’re mobbed up.” Kenny tossed that possibility into the air like a tennis ball he was serving. “That sounds more like a business deal that went sour or a hit. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never known Bur to be involved in anything illegal. He’s a joker. He loves a good prank, but it’s mostly harmless stuff. More annoying than sinister.”

  “Well, people change. Who knows. Maybe the guy you knew as a kid turned into a man with secrets.” It was true. If Bur was dumb enough to invite a married lover to the Four Acorns Inn for a sexual romp, who knows what he was up to in business?

  “Bur and I didn’t stop being friends after I moved, Scarlet.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Hell, no. We hung out in college. He even came to my wedding.”

  “He did? The bastard never said a word about it to me!”

  “He insisted you hated me because I wouldn’t climb into your room that night.”

  “What night? What are you talking about?”

  “Remember the big Halloween party, right before I moved to New Jersey? He passed along your message, that you wanted me to come see you at midnight. I should knock twice on the window. Only I screwed up and rapped on the wrong window. Boy, was your father pissed!”

  “What?” I looked at Kenny like he had three heads. He seemed almost as puzzled as I was.

  “Your brother said your father freaked out because you were constantly inviting boys to your room at night. You kept getting caught. Bur said you were a regular little Jezebel.”

  “Are you insane?” I thought back to that Halloween. Bur had been grounded the week before for sneaking out of the house on a dare. A cop caught Bur and a couple buddies at three in the morning, snoot-faced. My horrified parents had to go pick up the budding juvenile delinquent at the police station. He tried desperately to talk his way out of his punishment. He begged them to let him go to the Halloween party, but they refused. I got invited to go with Lisa Lister and Tina Fornelli. It was a sore point with Bur, especially because I wouldn’t shut up about it. I modeled my costume every day for a week before the party. I even invited my friends to dinner that night. We sat at the dinner table dressed as the Three Musketeers. My mother insisted we pose for photos. We had a great time and I made sure Bur knew it
. I should have figured out he’d find a way to make me suffer.

  “Bur was the guy who was always getting into trouble, Kenny, not me. And for the record, it would have never occurred to me to invite a teenage boy into my bedroom.”

  “You weren’t grounded because of what I did?” He gave me an embarrassed smile. “That’s a relief. Do you have any idea how guilty I felt that you got punished and I didn’t?”

  “That stinking liar. Bur really is a piece of work.” Unmasked after all these years -- it was pure Bur all the way. I could imagine him setting Kenny up like that, all because I got to go to the party and he couldn’t. “And you! You had some kind of nerve thinking you could climb into my bedroom in the middle of the night. Can you imagine what would have happened if you picked the right window? I would have been completely and utterly freaked out.”

  “That was probably Bur’s intention.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I was just glad your father didn’t recognize me. I was so afraid he’d call my folks and I’d get grounded, too.”

  “Misery loves company. He probably hoped we would both get in trouble.”

  “Bur was always looking for a chance to stick it to me, one way or another. That’s how I got the nickname of ‘Duddly Do-Right’. He used to tease me relentlessly. ‘Where’s Nell? Tied to the railroad tracks again? Better go and rescue her, Mountie!’“

  “If it’s any consolation, he used to call me ‘Gertie Goody Two Shoes’,” I told him.

  “It’s like that time he left you stranded in Hartford.”

  “When he forgot to pick me up.”

  “He didn’t exactly forget, Scar.”

  Chapter Sixteen --

  “What do you mean he didn’t exactly forget?” I demanded. Kenny shrugged, giving me a sheepish look. His arms were folded across his chest and I was all too aware of how ruggedly handsome he was, right down to that silver-tipped five o’clock shadow. Jere was never any match for Kenny. He was always just a poor substitute for the real thing. No wonder I was never satisfied.