She handed the phone to Cervantes.
“Gamers,” Cervantes said with disdain.
“But as I understand it,” Cora said, “these are the same kind of messages Gracie Wyke was getting before she disappeared.”
“That’s true,” Paul said. “We tried to tell the police about it, but—”
“We?”
“Henry and myself,” Paul said.
“Henry? The young man who was recently killed?”
Paul nodded. “We’ve all been involved in this game. Gracie more than me. But Henry was pretty into it. And you know he was a game designer himself.”
Brodsky lifted his head. “I thought he was a poet.”
“Both,” Paul said.
“People can be all sorts of things,” Liv said.
“Is that so?” Brodsky said, amused. “How about you? What are you?”
“I’m an art student,” she said. “I enjoy a good game from time to time. We’re not all geeks who stay in the basement all day long.”
“Good point,” Cervantes said. “Not usually, anyway, but I’ve seen my fair share.” He took Liv’s phone and pushed a few buttons. “I’ve downloaded and sent those messages to the office. I’ll look into this and get back to you.” He stood to go, handing her back her phone.
“Is that it?” she said.
“Yes,” he said with a clipped tone. “I need to get to the office to do the digging. That’s where the equipment is. But you can come later to help me fill out a report.”
“Ohhh, equipment?” Liv said, ignoring the report bit. “Can I come, too?”
Cervantes just waved her off, laughing. “I don’t think so. It’s police business.”
After he left, Liv turned to the detective. “It’s not just police business. This is too coincidental for me. Gracie got these messages and she vanished. So this is my business.”
She pressed something in her phone and walked into the next room.
“I have to agree,” Cora said. “We don’t want Liv in any danger.”
“Look,” Brodsky said. “She’s perfectly safe right where she is. Just like Paul over there. But tell her not to go out until you’ve heard from us.”
“Can I get you some coffee? Banana bread?” Cora said.
“Certainly,” he said. “Then we’ll talk more.”
Cora rushed into the kitchen to fix him the coffee and the bread.
“I don’t like this, Dad,” she heard Liv saying into her cell phone in the next room. “I’m kind of scared.”
Poor thing. She sliced up some banana bread and poured the detective a cup of coffee. Then Cora walked back into the room where the others were.
Brodsky was circled in crafters who were laughing at some joke he’d just told them.
“Okay,” he said after Cora was situated. “What’s been going on?”
She filled him in on their meeting with Chelsea, along with the fact that Liv connected Henry, Gracie, and the professor.
“And,” Cora said, and took a breath, “the party the professor’s soon-to-be ex-wife was having? They were all talking about him like he’s a nutcase. Sounds like there might be something there for you to look into.”
“Sounds like a typical divorced woman and her friends. Who hacked the files last night?” the detective asked. “The private campus files?”
“I didn’t really hack them,” Liv said, walking into the room. “I’m a student there. I couldn’t get into any of the private medical records. Not yet, anyway,” she said, and grinned.
“I’m going to ignore that,” he said.
“Plus, Jane and I stopped by the Blue Note B and B, which is where Professor Rawlings is staying,” Cora said. “He wouldn’t see us. But we talked with Zora.”
After a minute, Cora said, “So, what do you think?”
“I think we have quite a tangled web of things. It’s going to take time to untangle all this. First, we have a disappearance and then a murder,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I need to go. Take care, ladies,” he said, turned, and looked at Liv again. “I mean it. You should stay inside and out of it from this point on.” He glanced at Paul. “It would be a good idea for you to do the same. Just for a couple of days.”
With a flourish of eating the last bit of banana bread, taking one more sip of coffee, the man exited the room and the house.
He left Cora feeling as if she’d just been on a roller coaster.
“That wasn’t very smooth at all,” Sheila said. She, along with Marianne and Donna, had been sitting there watching and listening.
“I’m sorry, Sheila, what do you mean?”
“I mean he’s hiding something,” she said.
“I thought the same thing,” Liv said. “But I can be a bit paranoid, so I didn’t want to say.”
“I admit, I feel a little perplexed or something. They were in and out of here much too fast,” Cora said.
“The only thing we’ve gotten out of the conversation is both of you should stay inside,” Donna said.
“Yes, but he didn’t tell the rest of us to stay inside, did he?” Cora said.
Of course, today was the last day of the retreat and she could not go gallivanting all over town asking questions. But she certainly could tomorrow. And she felt like she needed to corner the professor. Somehow.
Her phoned buzzed with a text message from Jane: Where the heck is everybody?
“Oops, look at the time!” Cora said. “Jane’s class!”
The group gathered their belongings and hightailed it to the carriage house.
Chapter 41
“Well, I’m kind of glad we missed that,” Ruby said, after Cora told them why their little group was late getting to the charm class. The crafters were all gathered in Jane’s small studio in the carriage house. Soft music played and glasses of juice along with plates of cheese and crackers were scattered about the studio. “Sounds like there’s more going on than we know. I’ll text Cashel and see what he knows.”
“How would he know anything?” Jane asked.
“Small town,” Ruby said. “Not many lawyers and cops, either. They all kind of hang out with one another. I’m sure they talk.”
The women were positioned about the room, working on finishing their necklaces and bracelets fashioned from the riverbank clay. The necklaces all were gorgeous in their own way. Cora was drawn to Liv’s clay pendant as she dangled it.
“Powerful,” Cora said.
Liv grinned. “It’s the goddess, you know. It’s one of the things I have in common with Jane and her work. We both like to use these feminine mythological designs.” She sighed. “She’s fantastic and so inspiring.”
Cora agreed. “I love the spiral. You know we have a goddess at Kildare House.”
Liv’s head tilted. “Do you mean Brigid?”
“Yes, she’s the Celtic goddess of poetry and crafting,” Cora said, pleased with herself. She’d done a lot of research on the goddess when she moved in because she was so enamored with the stained-glass window in the staircase of the house.
“I’ve got some Brigid pieces,” Liv said.
“Oh, I love Brigid,” Marianne said, coming up beside them. “But that looks like Venus.”
Liv grinned. “It is.”
“Did everybody know about Brigid but me?” Cora said. “I didn’t know anything about her until I moved here.”
Marianne shrugged. “What were you doing before? Helping with abused women? You knew her. But you just didn’t know it.”
Cora blinked. That was something to think about. So many of the women she’d run into at craft retreats talked about goddesses as if they were real.
“Hey, look at the gorgeous purple on this!” Jane squealed, holding up a charm glazed with a sheen of purple.
Cora snapped a photo for her blog. The way the light shone on it made it glisten. She walked around and took more photos. Sheila and Donna, mother and daughter, laughing as they held up their bangles. Maddy and Ruby sitting back on the couch alr
eady donning their pendants, with glasses of wine in their hands. Rows of glass beads. Pretty crystals, sparkling. Strands of silk and rawhide.
This was going to make an eye-catching photo-blog post, Cora decided. Perhaps she’d have time to post between this class and the next.
Maddy let out a huge, drawn-out sigh. “Oh, I wish I could do this more often.”
“You can,” Ruby said. “I promise.” Ruby’s phone buzzed. “Oh, there’s Cashel.” Her brows knitted as she read over the text. “He’s warning us to stay out of this case. Typical.”
“Why is everybody worried about you butting into a police case?” Marianne asked.
“I don’t know,” Cora said, and shrugged. But she couldn’t look at Jane. They both knew why. They had butted in before, hadn’t they? But, all told, they had been helpful. Even so, the police looked askance at civilians taking over cases.
“He says from what he knows, this case is dangerous. ‘The police, of course, know more than they are saying. But it’s for the protection of the public. So butt out, dear Mother. And you can tell Cora and Jane the same thing. I don’t want to see them in the news or have to come and get them out of trouble as their lawyer again.’”
“Hey,” Jane said. “I resent that remark!” she laughed.
“Men,” Cora said.
“Sons. You birth ’em and then they act like they don’t owe you a thing,” Ruby said, and grinned.
“Well, since he didn’t mention my name, I suppose I don’t have to stay out of it,” Liv said.
“Oh yes, you do,” Sheila said with a warning note. “I’ve almost lost some good friends who were butting their noses in where it didn’t belong. It affected us all a great deal. These criminal sorts are not playing games. I agree with your detective on this. You need to stay close by.”
Liv, stunned by the older woman’s obvious emotion, said, “Well, I have no choice, then.” She shot a look at Donna and grinned.
“That’s my mom,” Donna said. “She’s the coolest mom on the planet. But she does have an opinion or two.”
Sheila chuckled, then became serious. “Oh, I know the dangers,” she said, and gazed out the window into her own distance. “I know them too well—and how one moment can change everything.”
The women sat for a few moments, considering.
“No point in rocking the boat, then,” Maddy said.
“Besides,” Marianne said, “we have one more class, then a party to go to. Why do we need to go anywhere else today?”
“Indeed,” Jane said. “This will all resolve itself without our help. You are all here for a craft retreat, not a criminal investigation. Let’s play nice.”
Cora sat back and listened to Jane and wondered who she thought she was fooling.
Chapter 42
After the others left, Jane and Cora cleaned up the studio a bit before heading over to Kildare House. As Jane’s sitter got settled in with London, Cora told her she hadn’t believed a word of what she said earlier.
“I don’t mean to lie,” Jane said. “I really don’t want the retreaters involved in all this. How about you?”
“I hear you,” Cora said. “But poor Liv is now really involved because of the crazy game and her messages. She’s really frightened. I heard her talking with her father.”
“I bet,” Jane said. “I’m afraid for her.”
“Well, we will keep her as safe as we possibly can,” Cora said. “She leaves tomorrow. Then I will really start to worry.”
“I wonder, can the game and the messages really be at the heart of all this? I mean, at first I thought it was utter silliness, this gaming business. You know, when Henry and Paul came to see us?”
Cora nodded. “I know. I thought it was insane, too. I thought they should be out scouring the hillsides instead of poking around on the computer.”
“I read a little about the Darknet last night,” Jane said. “You can almost do anything you want on there. You can hire prostitutes, get drugs, and there’ve been cases of people hiring killers. Crazy stuff.”
Cora’s heart jumped. “Hiring killers?” The first thought springing to her mind was that the professor, who seemed certifiable, could have hired a killer to off Henry. It was a gruesome possibility, sending a shiver up her spine. But why would he want to kill Henry? Just because they were under the same doctor’s care didn’t give him enough of a connection to care about Henry. Was a letter to the editor enough to want to kill someone? Had something else gone down among the three of them?
Cora and Jane walked from Jane’s place to Kildare House and were almost to the back kitchen door when Jane stopped. “What are you thinking?” she asked Cora.
Cora shrugged. “I didn’t know about the Darknet before any of this happened. It’s scary. My first thought was maybe the professor hired someone to off Henry. He seems disturbed enough.”
“I thought so, too,” Jane said. “But why? I also imagined him hiring someone to nab Gracie. We should go and see Chelsea tomorrow and his soon-to-be ex-wife. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a plan. I’d really like to talk with him, though,” Cora said, opening the door. “But first we have to get through the rest of the day and night.”
A look of resolve came over Jane as they entered the house.
Commotion ensued toward the front of the house. The crafters were oohing and aahing over something. As Jane and Cora approached, they saw it was a lovely bouquet of spring wildflowers.
“Did Uncle Jon send you flowers again?” Jane asked.
“I don’t know! How thoughtful,” Cora said. The scent of flowers filled the room as she read the card, feeling her face heat. “They’re from Adrian.”
The card read: I can’t wait to see you tonight. Warmly, Adrian.
“Nice!” Jane said. “I knew you two were going to hit it off. New beau!” Jane said, looking at the gathered retreaters.
“Looks like a winner,” Maddy said.
“Yes, he’s a great guy,” Jane replied.
He was. But Cora had forgotten about their date. In all the excitement of last night and this morning, he’d slipped her mind. As she thought about him, her mood lifted. But she didn’t know if tonight was the best time for them to get together. She would probably be exhausted. Still, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. And the matter of the averted good-night kiss weighed on her mind from time to time.
“You forgot about it, didn’t you?” Jane said.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It’s been a bit crazy, don’t you think?”
Jane nodded. “But that doesn’t bode well at all for the relationship. It’s only your second date.”
“Not much of a date really. We’re just going to hang out at my place,” she said. “I told him I’ll probably be exhausted.”
The other crafters were already scattered into the craft wing, where Marianne was set up with her finishing class. Baskets and tools lined the long wood table. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided them with great light at this time of day. She was prepped and ready to go. Cora snapped some photos as the women settled in. She needed to go back to her place and write up a blog post. In the meantime, she Tweeted some of the photos from earlier and from now. Even though most of her readers would probably never attend a retreat, she wanted them to feel as if they were here. She planned to experiment with some online retreats in the future. An odd concept to be sure, but she thought she could make it work.
“This has been a great experience for me as an artist and a teacher,” Marianne said. “I hope you all have enjoyed this as much as I have. Now, let’s get your baskets finished and you can take them home filled with charms and painted rocks and whatever else you’ve done this weekend. I can’t believe how much I’ve done and how much fun I’ve had.”
Cora noted teachers at these events were often pulled in too many directions to enjoy themselves. Artist–teachers were usually introverts, so these public appearances were intense and taxing. It was one of Cora’s goals to make the retr
eats just as relaxing for the teacher as for the retreaters. Which worked with Marianne. Not so much Jane or Ruby this time around.
Gracie’s disappearance affected Jane in difficult, thorny ways—much of it was because of London and her attachment to the young woman. As a mother, Jane was careful about who came into contact with London, and therefore whom she’d grow close to. Attachments and abandonment issues were everywhere in her little family—particularly since Neil had reared his ugly head, again, wanting to visit London.
“I want that,” Jane had told Cora. “I don’t want my child to grow up without a father. But is it better to grow up without one, or to grow up with one who is so damaged he comes in and out of your life at a whim? I just don’t know. I don’t want her heart to break again. But I can’t protect her from everything. I’m sort of damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”
Chapter 43
After the basket finishing class, Cora excused herself to go and get some blogging done. Jane knew she’d probably catch a few winks while she was there—and hoped she would. She appeared frazzled and more pale than usual. Cora was a woman who needed her sleep. It helped with her anxiety issues. Her strong, fairy-warrior princess of a friend had been doing well since her last episode and Jane wanted it to hold.
She and Ruby puttered about the kitchen preparing for the caterers to come. They would be here any minute to ready for the chocolate reception tonight. Cora decided to make a closing chocolate reception a tradition of the retreat—with no argument from Jane or Ruby. You didn’t have to be French to enjoy chocolate; though, as much as Jane loved chocolate, she did wonder if Cora loved anything else more. Maybe wine. Maybe.
“How do you think she’s really doing?” Ruby asked, and leaned on the counter.
“Cora?” Jane asked.
“Yes,” Ruby said. “She doesn’t look good to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she looks exhausted . . . agitated or something,” Ruby said.
“She was up late last night,” Jane said. “I’m sure she’s just tired. She’ll write up her blog post, get some shut-eye, and come down for the party completely refreshed and gorgeous.” Jane wiped drops of water from the counter with a dish towel.
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