A Canary in the Canal Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #8 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series)

by Anna Celeste Burke

  “Tell me about it and let’s try to figure it out together, okay?”

  “Here goes. It was near the end of the party, and we were cleaning up. When I went out on the patio to see what else needed to be done, Melody and Kay were signing autographs. I’d only been out there a minute or two when I saw a woman standing down near the walkway along the canal. When I glanced at Kay and Melody, again, Melody was gone, so at first, I thought it was her.”

  “Okay, that’s possible if she wanted a moment alone,” I said softly.

  “That’s what I thought, except that I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke even before I noticed the woman,” Ann said with her brow furrowed. “Did Melody smoke?”

  “I find it hard to believe, but it’s possible,” I replied. Then I flashed on the lighter Kay claimed to have found Friday night. “I don’t know how much Detective Kingsley told you, but Melody wasn’t exactly who she appeared to be. Smoking could have been one of her many secrets.”

  “He didn’t come right out and say it. From some of the questions he asked and the way he probed my answers, I could tell Melody had been in trouble before. I can’t say why I thought it was her even though the woman was smoking, and I didn’t see the yellow scarf.”

  “Can you pinpoint the time you saw the woman standing there?”

  “It couldn’t have been ten o’clock yet when I went out there because Melody and Kay were still signing autographs. Max insists we stick close to the schedule in the invitations. Ten or fifteen minutes later he came and got them, so it had to be around nine-forty-five.

  “Did you tell that to the detective?”

  “Yes, I told him it might help to contact the dispatcher who sent the limo because their records would have recorded the exact time. When Max came to get them, he said he’d just called the limo, and it was on the way. Max would also have the exact time on his phone. The detective was annoyed and said he didn’t need my advice about how to collect information. Then he told me to get to the point of my story.”

  “Trust me, Ann, it wasn’t anything personal. You said you and your crew had already been cleaning by then. Please, continue.”

  “Yes. One van was loaded and almost ready to go, as I recall. The barkeep was shutting down since there were only a few guests still in line for autographs. He was dumping a bag of used linens in the cart, but he still had his table and other items to finish packing. We had a little more to do once Kay and Melody left.”

  “Is there any chance that cart could have gone missing while it was sitting there? Or, if not that one, another one in the van, or waiting to be loaded?” I asked, suddenly remembering the question about how a killer could move Melody’s body from the basement.

  “No one mentioned it, and everything we brought with us was returned. The bigger carts weren’t easy to maneuver in that narrow driveway without two people helping. I can ask if you’d like.”

  “Could you, please? I’m sorry to interrupt.” I still wasn’t quite sure what bothered Ann so much. “What happened next?”

  “Kelly came to the patio doors to tell me everything inside seemed fine. She came outside to help, and I was going to ask her about the woman. I’d only turned away for a moment, but when I looked back, she was gone. If she’d returned in my direction, I would have seen her. Over the weekend, I kept asking myself where she could have gone. What if she’s the one who killed Melody, and it’s my fault because I didn’t check her out?”

  “Please, you can’t blame yourself for that. I take it she wasn’t in baggy sweatpants, a hoodie, or anything like that or you would have done something.”

  “It was dark, but I’m quite sure she was dressed up. The dark sleeveless dress and high heels also made me think it was Melody.”

  “You saw Kay and Melody leave with Max. She was still alive, and the woman was gone.”

  “I keep telling myself that,” Ann said.

  “I don’t believe I would have done anything any differently than you did. I can ask if any of the invited guests lived in the neighborhood and could have walked home.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s possible, though, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I replied, hoping that had eased Ann’s mind. “When you went back inside, did you and Kelly retrieve the leftover Champagne from the basement?”

  “Not immediately. The first thing we did when Max left with Kay and Melody, was pick up the remaining linens and items on the patio. We also helped the barkeeper for a minute or two and I kept an eye out for that woman. It was a little while later that we picked up the Champagne.”

  “Did you see anyone or anything odd in the basement?” I asked.

  “Frederick called and asked me that,” Ann said with a puzzled expression on her face. “I told him no. We’re always careful not to damage anything, or to report and record it if we do. If we have a spill, we immediately clean it up. The team knows that I’m supposed to be notified about breakage or some other accident like dumping a whole tray or container of food. No one reported anything like that to me.”

  “How about an odor from a cleaning product as if someone had cleaned up without telling you?”

  “No. Food smells lingered, but those would have faded in a few hours. Frederick didn’t mention odors when he called. If we missed something we should have cleaned up, he didn’t say a word about that either.”

  “It’s not that,” I said. Her nose had to be as good as mine was. Bleach or any other disinfectant should have left a fragrance in the air if someone had cleaned up by then. If Frederick locked the room when he said he did, I don’t see how anyone could have gotten in there to commit a murder.

  “Anyway, like I said, we didn’t go to the basement right away. When Kelly and I stepped into the dining room, I wondered if Kay and Melody were gone. The band was still playing, but some of the band members were packing up their equipment. When I asked, one of them said Kay and Melody went up front to wait for the limo.”

  “Jack and I were probably still upstairs with a few stragglers,” I offered.

  “I was sure you’d left by then. If I’d seen either of you, I might have said something about the woman I’d seen. I don’t know why I still felt uneasy, but I sent Kelly to the kitchen. When I went to the front door, Melody burst inside, and the door opened so fast, it almost hit me.”

  “According to Kay, she, Melody, and Max were out front when the limo arrived. Then Melody got a phone call and raced back indoors. That must be when she almost hit you.”

  “That makes sense because she was on the phone. Here’s what I wanted to tell you. She couldn’t have been the woman I’d seen smoking. The odor of tobacco usually lingers, and I didn’t catch any when Melody passed me. When I shut the front door, I could see Kay sitting in the limo.” Ann stared directly at me. “How could I have thought the woman was Melody. Am I losing it?”

  “The little black dress is a mainstay of cocktail party fashion,” I said. “If we look at the video and photos taken by the PR folks, I’ll bet there are several women wearing them. Would you like to look at their photos or video clips?”

  “I’m not sure I’d recognize her if you did. Besides, the detective is screening everyone at the party. Whoever I saw would say something if she’d witnessed a murder, right? I guess that’s what bothers me about not bringing it up; worrying that if the police don’t ask, she won’t tell them what she saw.” Ann shrugged. “It’s a huge relief to tell you about it. Now I can quit obsessing.”

  “I’m glad you decided to do it. I’ll share what you’ve said with Jack since he won’t take it lightly.” Ann looked so tired and down, I suddenly had another thought. “Do you have dinner plans?”

  Ann immediately brightened. Why not have Ann tell her story to Jack firsthand if she was willing to go over it again? After a brief explanation of what I had in mind, it was dinner for five.

  “This will be like one of those murder mystery dinner theater events, won’t it?” Ann asked.

  “Yes. Sort of,” I s
aid. If you ignore the dead body and the killer still at large, I added silently.

  12 Life Off-Key

  Marley World “team members,” as Max prefers that we call them, don’t actually “inhabit” the tunnels that run under the theme park, hotels, and the administrative campus here. They do use them to go to and from the team members’ parking lots, the locker rooms where they change into and out of their work clothes, and to HR and other administrative offices. The tunnels make it much easier to get around without fighting traffic or crowds above ground. That’s especially true if you’re making deliveries to the kitchens or shops at the resorts or the theme park.

  As soon as our elevator reached the basement, the door opened, and I spotted a Park Kart we could use. Equipped with a dedicated GPS-like system, I gave the Park Kart our destination, and it immediately plotted the shortest route for us to take. Cicely Gregoire was waiting for us in her office when we arrived in the area beneath Bayou Bay Adventureland. After we met with her, a nearby elevator would whisk us upstairs for lunch with Jenny Ridell.

  “Come on in and sit down,” she said before we even knocked. The tall, thin Black woman was my age or older, dressed in what appeared to be a tailored pantsuit. Its deep amber color set off her tawny complexion. Her posture was perfect as if she’d once been a dancer. A singer too, by the melodious tone of her voice, as she asked if she could get us coffee or anything else to drink.

  There was also a hint of a soft Southern accent—more Louisiana patois than a southern drawl. Maybe I was too influenced by the setting. Her office was filled with images and artifacts of bayou life, including a gorgeous painting of a swampy sunset with moss hanging from trees standing in water. A washboard instrument leaned against the wall in one corner, and Mardi Gras masks hung on the wall.

  “No, thank you,” I replied. Carol shook her head no. “Carol and I are having lunch upstairs once our conversation is over.”

  I stopped speaking when my eyes settled on a series of photos. In the center was a swamp house set on a wooden platform a couple of feet above the water. In another photo, several generations of family were gathered around an outdoor table. A second home sat further back.

  “That’s my family and the home in which I grew up. It’s a reminder of my roots. I never have become used to living alone after being part of such a family—the good and the bad,” Cicely said wistfully. “How may I help you?”

  “I’m not sure if you’ve heard yet, but an announcement will be made soon. Melody Monroe was found dead Friday night.”

  “Oh my, I hadn’t heard,” Cicely replied. “I’m sorry Melody’s dead, but I can’t say I’m completely surprised. She had a wild streak, didn’t she?”

  “We didn’t know her well, which is why we wanted to speak to you. She had several supervisors while she was employed here. You’re the first one on our list because you dismissed her from the Bayou Bay Balladeers. I assume that had something to do with the wild streak.”

  “Ms. Shaw, I recognized your name right away when your assistant asked if you could drop by this afternoon. I thought this had something to do with an event you’re planning in the Food and Beverage Division,” Cicely said, eyeing me suspiciously for the first time since we’d arrived. “Are you looking into her death for the police or the company, or are you just curious?”

  “Please, it’s Georgie, not Ms. Shaw. Max is understandably upset that a Marvelous Marley World employee was killed. When he asked us to find out as much as we could about her as an employee, Carol and I agreed to do it. We will be sharing the information with the homicide detective assigned to Melody’s case.”

  “Homicide? She was murdered?” Cicely asked. Her accent thickened as she spoke, and her speech became less formal. “When you said she was dead, I imagined she’d done herself in—run into a tree drunk or overdosed on drugs. I can see how that would upset Max since he had high hopes for her.”

  “Carol and I were at a party where Melody performed. It was shocking to stumble upon her body soon after that.” My voice cracked, which surprised me. “We have a personal interest in helping the police find her killer.”

  “You poor woman. That had to jar you right down to your soul. I only knew Melody in my professional capacity. She shared an apartment with a member of the Balladeers costume design team for a while. If you’d like to know more about her personal life, you should speak to Rebecca Hardesty. Break it to her gently, though. They were close before Melody moved into a place of her own.”

  “We’d be grateful to speak to Rebecca if you feel okay putting us in touch with her,” I said. “I’d rather she hears about Melody’s murder from you or me than on the news or from the police.”

  “You’re right about that. I’ll see Rebecca later today. Why don’t I ask her to call you? I’ll say that it’s urgent, but I’ll let you explain what that means.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. I wrote my private cellphone number on the back of my business card, with a note to please call me ASAP and handed it to Cicely. “If you can give this to her, that would be great.”

  “I will. Now, what can I tell you?”

  “We’ve heard rumors about why she left the Balladeers. Could you tell us how true they are?” Carol asked.

  “Rumors, huh? I would have thought it was obvious. Go on and tell me what you’ve heard.”

  I listened and watched this interesting woman as Carol filled her in on the gossip we’d heard. It didn’t take long, given how little we had to go on. As Carol spoke, Cicely nodded several times.

  “That about sums it up. When you were told Melody didn’t take correction well, that’s an understatement. Her attitude is central to what I mean by a wild streak. Yes, she was always late and missed rehearsals. Occasionally, she even skipped performances. In a group like the Balladeers, there’s no room for a prima donna. When I told Melody that she needed to leave the temperamental artist routine at home, she lit up like a torch. She cussed me out, asked me who I thought I was, and threatened to report me to her friends in high places.” Cicely paused and shook her head. “For a minute, I was afraid she might strike me. Wild, see?”

  “When you booted her out of the group, did you report the incident?” I asked.

  “Of course, I did! I couldn’t dismiss her without explaining why. A copy of the formal reprimand I submitted should have gone to administrators in the Theme Park, the Arts and Entertainment Division, as well as to HR,” Cicely asserted.

  At the mention of HR, I glanced at Carol, wondering if she’d seen the reprimand in Melody’s personnel file. She shrugged ever so slightly. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I’d find out later. Cicely paused for an instant as she observed the exchange that passed between Carol and me. What a perceptive woman, I thought. She must not miss a thing. Apparently, she also read my mind.

  “If you check her records and read the report, you’ll see I didn’t go into detail about her insolent behavior. I reported her frequent tardiness, her failure to call in before she missed work, and her inability to handle correction to the point of insubordination.”

  “Did she make good on her threat to report you?” I wondered aloud.

  “If she did, I never heard about it. Max and I go way back, so if he had a problem with what I’d done, he would have called me. Melody was like a little kid when I told her not to come back. She poked out that bottom lip, flipped her hair, and said she didn’t want to be in the stupid group anyway. Melody assured me she had better things to do with her time and talent, stomped off, and that was the last time I laid eyes on her. I heard later that she’d left her costume behind in her locker, ripped in several places. Melody Monroe had a good, strong voice, but she was wildly immature and just plain mean at times.” Cicely shook her head and frowned with disapproval.

  “You said her attitude was only part of what you meant,” Carol said. “What else did she do that was wild?”

  “Her friend, Rebecca, can tell you more because I only heard bits and pieces of her co
nversations with others. Melody liked to go clubbing until late, drank too much, and always had boyfriend problems. Lots of the young people we employ have relationship issues, but Melody was in a league of her own. Not all her boyfriends started out as hers, and they didn’t stay hers for long. I heard more than one of the other young women in the Balladeers complaining that she’d stolen this boy or that boy from someone for fun or to prove she could do it, then turned around and dumped him.”

  “That couldn’t have been good for group morale,” I noted.

  “I lost a good singer before I told Melody she was no longer welcome as a member of the Balladeers.” Cicely paused. “In my time, I’ve seen my share of unhappy people—young and old. Beneath her perfect smile, Melody was a miserable human being, and I honestly believe she enjoyed spreading the misery. The police must have their hands full when it comes to figuring out who killed her.”

  “From what we’ve heard, you dismissed her a few weeks ago. Do you believe any of the jilted girlfriends or dumped boyfriends were angry enough that the police ought to put them on the list of suspects?” I asked.

  “I’m their supervisor. The group members wouldn’t confide in me about boyfriend problems. That’s another good question for Rebecca, though. I have no idea how she stood working and living with Melody for any amount of time without wringing her neck.” Carol and I glanced at each other.

  “I’m sorry. By your reaction, that must have been a poor choice of words,” Cicely said. “Was she strangled?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure when that information will be shared with the public, so please keep it to yourself,” I replied.

  “Thank you so much for telling me! I wouldn’t want to say anything in front of the police to suggest Rebecca could have done such a thing. She’s one of the most mild-mannered young women you’ll ever meet. Rebecca has a real talent for design. I’ve encouraged her to develop more confidence in herself and go to design school.”