Last Pen Standing

by Vivian Conroy

  Amanda scratched Nugget behind the ears. “What a doll. Are you staying here as well? I don’t think I’ve seen your dog before.”

  Delta felt her heart skip a beat. She fidgeted with the pillow on her chair so she didn’t have to look at Mrs. Cassidy as she tackled this potentially awkward moment.

  “No, I’m not staying at the hotel,” Mrs. Cassidy said, sounding perfectly at ease. She extracted her knitting from her bag. It was a large affair in yellow and white, with four needles sticking out. Turning it over and taking two needles to hand, Mrs. Cassidy said, “I was at the party on Friday night, though.”

  Amanda’s eyes darkened. “Then I suppose you know? I still don’t understand it. How something like that can happen inside a hotel. Where you believe yourself to be safe!” She threw a scorching look at the hotel as if it were to blame for the murder. “Vera so wanted to stay at this lodge. She had read about it online, about the grand twenties atmosphere of it and that annual gold miners’ party. She was so excited to come and experience it all for herself, and then this happens.”

  Delta’s heart beat even faster. So Vera had chosen the destination. The hotel run by the family of the man whom Ralph White had named as her secret lover and the recipient of a large sum of money.

  Had Vera demanded her money back? And had Ray killed her because he couldn’t pay up?

  Amanda said, “Vera was impulsive like that, and Herb usually indulged her. After his first wife died, he was very lonely, and Vera brought the light back into his life.” She smiled for a moment. “It was good to see him so cheerful again. Ralph used to say he wasn’t sure Herb would ever get over his first wife’s death, but then he did.” Her expression contorted. “And now this. Now he’s a widower all over again.”

  Delta reached out to the teapot. “Shall I pour you some more tea?”

  Amanda nodded gratefully. She pulled a hankie out of her sleeve and rubbed her eyes. “I just can’t imagine how it happened. Not a mugging in the street, but cold-blooded murder in a hotel. I told Ralph I wanted to leave right away, but he said we can’t. Not until the police say we can. There’s so much to do, to take care of, but they won’t even let us have the body.”

  Mrs. Cassidy said, “I’m sure they will release it to you as soon as they can. But they need to investigate—”

  “They’re treating her like an object, a thing.” Amanda waved the hankie. “And what good will it do? She’s dead anyway.”

  “They have to determine who killed her.”

  “I thought they already knew. That young man. The guide. He did strike me as rather…free with people. Someone who puts a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t ask for it, that kind, you know.”

  Delta pointed at the filled teacup. “Better drink something. I’m sorry this is such an upsetting time for you.”

  Amanda picked up the cup and sipped. “I knew it was crazy to come here. All the way from Florida. Why couldn’t we have vacationed nearby? I hate flying. All the weird sounds the engines make. And if you get caught in turbulence…” She shivered.

  “I never fly if I can help it,” Mrs. Cassidy sympathized. “My children live near enough for me to drive out to them, so I avoid planes where I can.”

  Delta said, “Vera wanted to come here because she had read about the place online? I thought she knew Ray Taylor. From his football days?”

  Amanda looked at her. Was there a moment’s flash of suspicion in her eyes?

  “Didn’t Ray take a dolphin-spotting trip with your husband’s company?” Delta pushed. “I think he mentioned it to me. It was the best trip he ever went on.”

  Amanda seemed to relax again under the compliment. “Yes, we hear that a lot. Lots of companies promise you sightings, but we always deliver. Whatever the weather.”

  “Vera knew Ray Taylor?” Delta asked again.

  Amanda shrugged. “Could be. Vera went on some of the trips. I never do. I don’t like a rough sea.”

  “Maybe Ray and Vera knew each other from before Vera married your brother-in-law,” Mrs. Cassidy said in an innocent tone. She kept her eyes on Amanda.

  Amanda looked into her teacup. She didn’t seem to have heard the remark.

  “I mean,” Mrs. Cassidy said, busily clicking her needles, “you just said Vera married your brother-in-law after his first wife passed away. You can’t have known her for very long.”

  “Two years.” Amanda put the teacup back on the table and studied the three-tiered server with treats. “Those macarons are awfully sweet, and artificially flavored, I bet. How else do they create those bright colors?”

  “Well, it’s lucky your brother-in-law met another woman at all,” Mrs. Cassidy mused. “Men tend to bury themselves in work when they’re grieving. It can be so hard for them to meet someone socially.” She sat up and studied Amanda across the table. “It must have happened at a dolphin-spotting trip then. Vera and some friends coming to see the dolphins. Or maybe it was a trip with her colleagues? Don’t they do such trips for team building?”

  “It was at a birthday party at my home, actually. I insisted Herb at least attend birthday parties back then. Else he’d be sitting by himself every single night.”

  “Some people do need a bit of help to come out of their shell again.” Mrs. Cassidy pulled at the yarn threading up from the bag she had put beside her. “So you knew Vera before she actually met your brother-in-law? I’m sorry. I was under the impression he had brought her along.”

  “No. I, uh… Vera was a friend of a friend. She only tagged along to the party because they wanted to go someplace afterward. In a single car.”

  It sounded vague and half-made-up.

  Delta narrowed her eyes as she studied Amanda’s pale face.

  “It must have been meant to be,” Mrs. Cassidy enthused. “I had the same thing happen among my friends once—”

  “Now I remember,” Amanda cut her off. “You work at the museum in Tundish. I didn’t recognize you at all. At the museum, you were dressed like it was 1880.”

  “All part of the act, my dear. I hope you did enjoy having a little look around. Tundish’s history is fascinating.”

  Amanda shifted weight in her chair as if uncomfortable.

  Mrs. Cassidy called Nugget, who had strayed toward another table. The Yorkie returned reluctantly, glancing back at the table where chicken sandwiches beckoned.

  Delta picked up a huckleberry cupcake, which was decorated with white-chocolate slivers.

  Turning over the knitting in her lap, Mrs. Cassidy observed, “Your husband and his brother are clearly a great team. At the museum, they were laughing and joking the entire time. Vera seemed a bit silent, though.”

  Mrs. Cassidy took her time to count stitches, then continued in a thoughtful tone, “I wonder if someone was threatening her.”

  “Threatening her?” Amanda echoed. “Why would you think so?”

  “Well, now that she’s dead, you can’t help but think she must have been threatened. I mean, you don’t just go to a party full of strangers and get killed. It must have been someone she knew. Someone she was afraid of, maybe?”

  Amanda seemed dismissive. “We don’t know anyone here.”

  “I heard”—Mrs. Cassidy leaned forward and lowered her voice—“that Vera was seen in the hotel garden on Friday night, arguing with someone. Another woman. It was quite a fierce argument too. Vera was struck in the face, I heard. Imagine that.”

  Amanda’s expression seemed even paler now. She raised a hand to her forehead. “The sunshine is giving me a terrible headache. I think I’ll go lie down a bit.”

  Mrs. Cassidy looked at her. “The woman arguing with her wore a distinctive gown. The police are looking for it.”

  Distinctive gown? Delta tried to keep her expression from betraying her surprise. She had heard nothing about this. Did Mrs. Cassidy know more, or was she merely bluf
fing to provoke Amanda into a response?

  “I don’t see why they would look for a dress, since a man killed her,” Amanda said fiercely, shooting to her feet. The embroidery ring fell to the terrace tiles in a clatter.

  Nugget jumped at it. Mrs. Cassidy made a grab for the collar, but it was too late already. The Yorkie had the ring in her mouth.

  Amanda and Mrs. Cassidy almost collided as they both leaned in to separate the dog from the ring. Nugget was twisting to keep away from their grabbing hands, determined to keep her new toy to herself.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Mrs. Cassidy said. Nugget wriggled backward, half under the table, and Mrs. Cassidy crawled after her, cooing that she had to be a good girl and let go.

  People at other tables were watching with amused expressions, and a waitress approached and stood a few steps away, apparently unsure if her assistance was needed.

  “Bingo!” Mrs. Cassidy’s head and shoulders reemerged from under the table, and she held up the ring to Amanda, who accepted it with barely a glance at how it had fared in the dog’s mouth.

  Mrs. Cassidy said, “I’m more than willing to replace it if it’s damaged.”

  “It’s fine. I just need to get inside, lie down.” Amanda clutched the ring and walked off, unsteady as she zigzagged between the tables. She almost ran into a waitress, who had to hold her tray to the left to avoid everything falling off. She seemed to mutter something less than complimentary as she stared after the panicked woman, who dashed through the terrace doors into the hotel’s dim interior.

  “Are the police looking for a distinctive dress?” Delta asked Mrs. Cassidy in a whisper.

  “I doubt it. After all, Sheriff West didn’t believe your story about the argument between two women, and no one actually saw the woman who fought with Vera. But the idea that the police are onto that particular woman seemed to spook her. I wonder if she’s right now rushing to her hotel room to get rid of the dress she wore that night. She was in such a hurry to get away she didn’t even check if Nugget had damaged her embroidery ring. If she puts a lot of hours into that hobby, she should have cared, right?”

  “So you were only bluffing.” Delta sighed as she sank against the chair’s back. “The whole talk didn’t deliver a thing.”

  “On the contrary, it was very instructive.” Mrs. Cassidy pointed a finger at Delta. “I told you before that I had the impression, at the museum, that those ladies didn’t like each other. That they were watching each other all the time. Now, when we combine that with the knowledge that Herb White met his wife at a birthday party at Amanda’s place… Maybe Amanda was originally happy that Herb had met a new love because of her. That he had been pried out of the shell of his grief and that he could start life all over. But once she got to know Vera better, she must have noticed she was…self-centered, not caring for Herb’s opinion about her behavior. At the gold miners’ party, she was dancing with other men, drinking too much, and overall making a spectacle of herself, without caring what people thought about her.”

  Delta nodded. “And in the argument I overheard, Vera sounded dismissive and callous.”

  “Right. There was a…coldness about her, and it’s very well possible that over time, Amanda felt worse and worse about having introduced them. She watched Vera, waiting for her to make such a serious mistake that…the marriage would end in divorce?”

  “Even if that’s true, how does it help us in the murder case?” Delta rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t want to say out loud that I was the witness who had overheard her fighting with Vera. It would have sounded like an accusation.”

  “I think we learned all we can from her.” Mrs. Cassidy picked up a yellow macaron. “Contrary to what Amanda White assumed, these are not artificially colored and flavored. After all, they are made by our very own Calamity Jane.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, all these sweet treats are. Her husband runs the bakery on Mattock Street and she does catering for parties, etc.” Mrs. Cassidy lifted the macaron to toast Delta with it. “Light as a feather, French to the core.” She popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes with an expression of pure bliss.

  Delta picked up a pink one and bit into it carefully. Raspberry jam rolled across her tongue, not too sour, not too sweet, just perfect.

  The sun reflected off the three-tiered carrier, and despite all the upheaval, Delta couldn’t deny that life in Tundish wasn’t all that bad.

  Chapter Eleven

  On Monday morning, Delta drove out to The Lodge, strictly for business, as the next workshops had already been scheduled, and Delta wanted to discuss with Rosalyn whether they could continue as planned. But deep down inside she hoped she could also use the opportunity to gauge Rosalyn’s feelings about the murder and find out if she was, like Isabel had suggested, eager to implicate Ray in it.

  Upon arrival, she saw three police cars parked in front of the building and the last deputy just going inside. Were they going to do another search?

  Delta parked her car and hurried to get inside and hear what the commotion was all about.

  At the reception desk, Sheriff West was talking to the clerk while the deputies had fanned out through the lobby. One of them stood at the elevators, also keeping an eye on the nearby staircase, while two were entering the breakfast room. It seemed they were looking for someone.

  The clerk reached for the telephone, but West stopped him with a curt hand gesture. The clerk sank back in his chair, his face pale and worried-looking.

  Delta stayed out of West’s direct line of vision, retreating to the far corner of the entry hall where a large display held flyers with information about local attractions, including the gold-mining museum, a wildlife refuge, and the restored nineteenth-century mansion of a copper king. Delta let her gaze wander, pretending to contemplate what to do for the day, while her ears strained to pick up any threads of conversation.

  “You can’t do this!” a sharp female voice cried.

  Delta peeked around the display.

  The two deputies came from the breakfast room, holding Isabel between them. As they drew nearer, Delta could see her hands were cuffed behind her back.

  “Really, Sheriff.” The clerk stood up and banged his hand on the counter. “Do you have to do this in front of the guests?”

  West looked at the deputies. “You could have asked her to come along of her own accord.”

  “But you said she had to be apprehended at all costs. We thought…” The deputy looked at his colleague, bewildered.

  West waved a hand. “Yes, yes, it’s all right. Take her outside and put her in the car. Do it quickly, so we don’t get more of a fuss.”

  “Where’s Rosalyn?” Isabel cried. “I want a lawyer. Rosalyn has to call a lawyer for me. Ray! Where’s Ray?”

  She sounded like a frightened little girl.

  Delta watched her struggling figure as she was led outside. Her mind raced to work out what this could mean. Did West believe Isabel had been involved in the murder with Finn?

  Or could this new arrest mean that Finn was actually off the hook?

  West said something to the clerk in a low, almost threatening tone, leaning heavily on the counter. Then he straightened up and walked off.

  Delta waited until he was gone and then darted to the counter. “What a rude man,” she exclaimed. “If you want to ask someone a question or two, you can do it right here in the privacy of the office. Why take someone along in such a fashion? Terrible. If I were the Taylors, I’d complain.”

  The clerk shook his head. “Nobody complains about him,” he groused. “Thinks he about owns the town.”

  “He must have a good reason for taking her along…” Delta said just as the elevator doors opened and Rosalyn came out. She wore a dark-red pantsuit that emphasized her height. Her hair was styled into lush, wet waves. She carried a clipboard under her arm.

>   Delta waved at her. “Your sister has been arrested.”

  Rosalyn looked at her as if she didn’t believe her for one moment, but then she looked outside and apparently spotted the police cars, for she broke into a trot through the doors.

  Delta followed her in a rush.

  Rosalyn was at the car, putting her hand against the glass. On the other side of it, Isabel’s pale face was visible. West was just about to get into the driver’s seat. Rosalyn called across the roof of the car, “Sheriff! What are you arresting her for? If you don’t tell me at once, I will have a whole army of lawyers marching into the station within minutes.”

  West hesitated, then declared in a gruff tone, “When we arrested Finn Bray on Friday night, we searched his person. There was a heavy gold bracelet in his jacket pocket. We had it tested for fingerprints. There were three sets on it. The victim’s. Finn’s. And your sister’s.”

  Rosalyn stared at him. “And? I don’t see why you’d have to arrest her for something so trivial.”

  “Trivial?” West scoffed. “It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Finn Bray is Isabel’s boyfriend, right? He also happens to have been in financial trouble before he came to live here.”

  Rosalyn’s nostrils flared. “I knew nothing about that.”

  Delta’s heart skipped a beat, and she clenched her hands.

  The sheriff smiled in grim satisfaction. “But we do. We assume the following: Finn Bray was in financial trouble. He shared this with his girlfriend, Isabel, asking her for help. Isabel didn’t want to ask her father or you for money, so she took Mrs. White’s bracelet out of the jewelry box in the hotel safe and passed it off to Bray so he could sell it and use the money to pay off his debts.”

  “My sister wouldn’t steal anything.” Rosalyn looked appalled. “Certainly not from our guests.”

  West huffed. “If your sister never touched it, how can her fingerprints be all over it?”

  “I have no idea, but I do know you’re making a terrible mistake.”