“That she’d killed her father.” Liz regretted what she said as soon as it came out of her mouth. Hadn’t she been crucified in the press herself because of rumors and false innuendos?
“I know Mrs. Worth didn’t like you. She accused you of stealing her necklace, right?”
“Um, yes. But her husband found it, remember?” Charlotte wasn’t going where Liz thought she was, was she?
“Why were you in the Worths’ suite? You’re a writer, aren’t you?”
So, the detective knew all about Liz’s past. “I cleaned their suite to help my eighty-year-old great-aunt, because Iris, the housekeeper, was missing, per usual. I hope you’re not suggesting I killed Regina for a necklace and earrings? I think if you look in my financial records, you’ll see I don’t lack for money.”
“The jewels she was wearing were very rare and valuable. I’ll be looking into everyone connected to the hotel and shops. Can you send in Ryan Stone?” Then she hesitated a few seconds before adding, “Please?”
Liz left the library and stepped into the corridor. Ryan was there alone, intently typing a text to someone on his phone. It was possible he had a girlfriend back in New York. Hell, maybe even a wife. Though he didn’t wear a ring, and she thought Aunt Amelia or Pops would have mentioned that by now.
“Your turn, Snoopy Pants.”
He laughed as he passed her. “That all you could come up with, Bossy Pants?”
At least he hadn’t called her “princess.”
Chapter 21
It was time for Liz to do some snoopy-pantsing of her own. She went to the housekeeper’s closet and took the ring of room keys off the hook. On her way to the service elevator, she noticed that the dumbwaiter that stood next to the ice machine wasn’t completely pulled shut. Liz had been warned as a child, first by her father, then Aunt Amelia, to stay away from the dumbwaiter and keep her games of hide-and-seek with Pierre confined to the lobby, dining room, or kitchen. She would tell her father about the dumbwaiter at the same time she told her father about his buddy Charlotte’s aspersions regarding Liz and the missing necklace and earrings. She’d also tell her father that his date for the evening had been canceled.
As Liz took the service elevator up to the second floor, the key ring jangled in her hands. She was never one to slow down at an accident, and she felt relief when she passed the door to the Worths’ suite and saw that it was closed, crime scene tape crisscrossing the door frame. She headed to the other end of the hallway and used the key to open Iris’s suite.
Iris’s rooms appeared the same as she’d seen them yesterday, untouched with personal effects. Liz went to the housekeeper’s closet and found white long-sleeved collared shirts, pressed below-the-knee khaki shorts, khaki pants, a rain slicker, a windbreaker, one black dress, one pair of low black sandals, and four pairs of white sneakers with thick rippled soles. The woman’s wardrobe would fit in an airplane’s carry-on, befitting of her no-frills personality. Liz was about to give up on finding anything in the closet, when she spied a green beach towel in the back right corner. She pulled it out and opened it. Inside was a black scuba-diver suit, flippers, and a mask. Not unusual for anyone living on a barrier island. The towel was damp and smelled of the briny ocean. Next to the towel was a duffel bag. Liz looked inside. Captain Netherton’s missing chart of the water depths surrounding the barrier island lay on top. She zipped up the duffel and backed out of the closet.
Liz rummaged through Iris’s desk and dresser drawers and didn’t find anything. Not one clue to where she’d gone. She’d saved under the bed for last. There was only one small shoe box there that she had to crawl halfway under the bed to retrieve. There weren’t any dust bunnies or cobwebs. Liz had to give Iris credit, she was a meticulous housecleaner. She grabbed the box, then sat on the floor with her back to the bed and opened it. Inside were birthday cards addressed to Iris at a military APO address in California. Liz had been right that Iris had served in the military. Each envelope had the same Cocoa Beach return address. Liz opened the first five cards, all signed Love, Mom, with a hand-drawn heart. Liz returned the cards to their envelopes, but stuffed one of the envelopes in her pocket and put the box back under the bed just in time to hear, “What the hell are you doing in my rooms!”
Iris had returned.
“I was searching under your bed for Venus. You know, the bald cat.”
“Why would it be in my rooms?”
Iris stepped into the room and looked around. Liz quickly passed her, went through the open doorway, and stepped out into the hall. “You’re right, she’s not here. I thought with all the commotion last night that she might have snuck in when you were packing to leave the hotel. Did you find a good place to stay?”
“Yes.” Iris placed her suitcase on the bed.
“Nearby?”
The housekeeper didn’t answer.
“I’d better check Betty’s room. Oh, by the way, you missed the fingerprinting session in the library. Agent Pearson was looking for you.”
Color seeped into Iris’s pale face. “Well, I’m here now.”
“You can check the library and see if she’s still there. Agent Pearson also wanted me to ask you about the rock with the note tied around it that David Worth showed you yesterday afternoon. She wanted to know what the note said.”
“I don’t know. He mumbled something about it saying, ‘You better leave things as they are or else’.”
“Do you know what he did with the note?”
“He handed me the rock, which I threw in the bushes, then he tossed the note in the trash.”
“In the lobby?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell the homicide detective.” Liz said the word “homicide,” louder than the rest of the sentence, trying to gauge Iris’s reaction. Iris remained stone-faced. Liz said, “I’m really sorry you’re the one who found Regina Harrington-Worth dead. It must have been a shock. Especially when you saw that thing wrapped around her neck.”
“It was a shock. The Ace bandage was wrapped so tightly, she didn’t have a chance.”
“Good thing Captain Netherton was with you.”
“I guess.”
“David Worth is coming home from the hospital today and staying here, although he can’t stay in his old suite—for obvious reasons. I would check with Aunt Amelia and see which suite needs to be cleaned and aired out for him. I’ll touch base with you later.”
Liz turned and walked toward Betty’s suite, thinking about the strange murder weapon. If, as Agent Pearson postulated, someone related to the Indialantic had murdered Regina and stabbed David, then Liz would keep Iris near the top of her suspect list. The woman was sketchy and always disappearing.
She made a mental note to try to corral Captain Netherton, recalling the absence of both his cane and limp last night and the fact that he’d called Regina by her first name. Though Liz had a hard time pegging the charming sea captain as a killer—after all, he was the distinguished Captain Daniel Gregg from television’s The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.
Iris was another story.
Chapter 22
Before reaching Betty’s suite, Liz saw Officer Hernandez, whom she’d seen earlier in the library, coming out of the Worths’ suite. In his arms were a large pet carrier, a small pet carrier, and a leopard-print diaper bag bursting with cat paraphernalia.
Liz wondered if she would ever think of the Oceana Suite as anything other than where Regina had been murdered. When the police were done with the suite, Liz would call in Kate and the crew from Home Arts by the Sea to redecorate it.
She waved at the officer. “I’ll take those.”
They met halfway at the iron railing overlooking the lobby and made the transfer.
“Thanks. This will be one happy cat.” Then, Liz thought, how happy could Venus be after her human had been murdered? Sadness enveloped Liz. She felt a
little coldhearted that she hadn’t taken a moment to mourn Regina’s death. They weren’t friends—far from it—but she’d never wished the woman dead.
Liz continued to Betty’s and turned the knob to her door. It was locked. Usually, she left it open 24/7, which confirmed that Betty had been frightened last night. Who wouldn’t be? She knocked, and Betty came to the door dressed in jean capris, a white button-down blouse that came below her knee, and a pair of red ballet flats—very Audrey Hepburn. Betty’s hair was a silver-white that she wore in a French twist. Betty didn’t dress like a grandma, even though she was one.
Betty took the small carrier out of Liz’s left hand. “What do you have here? Carolyn Keene has enough toys for a dozen cats—the captain keeps buying them for her. Whenever he buys one for Killer, he makes sure Caro isn’t left out. Plus, Kitty Keene prefers more classic playthings and bedding. She’s not into bling.”
Liz laughed. “These are Venus’s things. I asked Agent Pearson if I could have them. Venus is staying at the beach house for now. Although David Worth is coming back to the hotel sometime today.” Liz stepped inside and dropped the carriers and the kitty diaper bag onto the floor.
“He’s coming here? Why in the world would he do that?”
“Dad said he needs time to decide where to go and make arrangements, etc. You’re right, I wouldn’t want to stay where my wife was murdered and I’d been stabbed. Oh, Betty, it’s starting to hit me. I think I’ve been in shock.”
“I’ll make some tea. You’ll feel better in no time.” Tea: the magic elixir of the Indialantic by the Sea Hotel.
Liz picked up the leopard-print cat bag and started rifling through it. “Damn. It’s not here.”
“What’s not there?”
“When I cleaned the Worths’ suite on Friday, Venus was wearing a pink collar, with what I swore were real diamonds. I wonder if the killer took it?”
“Have a seat,” Betty said, as she moved toward the kitchenette.
Liz sat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Betty brought over a silver tray laden with a teapot and all the accoutrements, including a few of Pierre’s orange scones. Liz filled Betty in on everything that had happened since she’d seen her the previous night.
“Are you sure Captain Netherton didn’t have his cane, or a limp? Everything was so crazy last night, I didn’t notice.”
“I’m sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure.” She looked into Betty’s pale gray eyes. Maybe Liz had been mistaken?
“Well, we have three things to go on: One, Agent Pearson thinks someone related to the Indialantic is our culprit.”
“Yeah. She suspects me.”
“Nonsense. Two, we need to research the return address on those birthday cards from Iris’s mother, and find out where she keeps disappearing to.”
“And three,” Liz said, “we need to go down to the lobby and fish out the note that was attached to the stone that someone threw at the Worths’ car.”
They both shot up and headed to the door. Betty peeked out to make sure the coast was clear, and Liz followed her to the center of the hallway, to the railing that overlooked the lobby. Betty peered over, waved Liz on, and they crept down the stairs.
There were two trash cans in the lobby, one by the doors leading outside and one behind the registration desk. A safe bet would be the trash can by the doors. Liz moved toward it. Betty zipped ahead and beat her there. Betty took off the top of the trash can and stuck her arm and head inside. “Voilà! I think I see it. But we need to preserve any fingerprints.” Spoken in true Nancy Drew style.
Liz stepped behind the desk, grabbed a box of tissues and a manila envelope, and brought them over to Betty. Betty plucked out a tissue from the box, making sure her hand only touched one side, then reached into the can and grabbed a crumpled piece of paper, while Liz held open the envelope.
Betty dropped the paper inside, then said, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some gloves. We need to photograph the note before we turn it over to the police. Do you have your phone?”
Liz answered. “It’s in the butler’s pantry, in my handbag.”
“Good.”
They walked through the dining room and into the empty kitchen. Betty laid the envelope on the wood farm table. Liz went to the pantry and retrieved her phone and a pair of gloves from the box Pierre used when preparing meals using hot peppers.
Back at the table, Liz put on the gloves and reached in the envelope. She laid the note on a clean section of paper toweling, then carefully smoothed it out. In handwritten blue ink, it read: Abandon your plans or else. This is your last warning.
“Quick, take a picture.”
Betty picked up Liz’s phone and took a burst shot of the note. The camera on the phone click, click, clicked away.
She put the note back in the envelope and said to Betty, “I’m not giving it to Agent Pearson. You can.”
“Not giving what, Ms. Holt?”
Oops.
Agent Pearson walked in, holding a teacup and saucer.
Betty said, “We were about to give you the note that had been tied to the rock thrown at the Worths’ windshield. I fished it out of the trash and made sure not to leave any prints. You might want to check outside the lobby door for the rock.”
“Thanks for saving that task for the professionals. You need to keep out of my investigation.” She directed her stare at Liz, not Betty.
Betty grabbed Liz’s elbow. “Come on, dear, let’s go find your auntie. I’m sure the nice detective will thank us later.” Betty handed the envelope over to Agent Pearson, who stood with her mouth open. Liz admitted, Betty made a pretty impressive figure for an eighty-three-year-old. She wouldn’t want to be on Betty’s bad side, and luckily she never had been in the past.
They left the detective in the kitchen, then went through the doorway leading to the hallway with the service elevator. As they passed the ice machine, Liz told Betty how the night before, there had been water on the floor near the ice machine. “I don’t know if it means anything? But it might prove what David said about getting ice for his wife’s knee.”
As they entered the elevator, Betty said, “We need to write everything down and pretend this is the outline for your next book. I know how much you love to research. I’m going to give you a few projects that will get the ball rolling. Like your Agent Pearson, I have a feeling that whoever killed Regina might be right under our noses.”
“She’s not my agent Pearson, she’s Dad’s.”
Betty gave her a knowing look. Was it that obvious that Liz was concerned about how the detective’s relationship with her father might alter their father-daughter bond?
Liz said, “But we were all together last night when the murder took place…”
“Exactly. But who wasn’t with us?”
“Iris Kimball, Captain Netherton, Minna Presley, Francie Jenkins, Brittany Poole, and Edward and Nick Goren. However, it might just be a random incident.”
“Indeed, it might,” Betty said. “But it can’t hurt to find out a little more. You’ve already got a good lead on Iris. Follow it through, and I’ll do what I can on my iPad.”
Liz and Betty performed the secret handshake they’d used since Liz was eight, which included complicated hand movements and real spit. For a moment, Liz was back in time, then the adult Liz surfaced and she realized this wasn’t a game. She planned to protect those she loved, and if that meant putting her own self in danger, she would do it.
Chapter 23
“Road trip! Yay!” cried Kate. “I never get to catch all the good garage sales on Sundays. I’m always at the shop.” She took a bite of her English muffin pizza and said, “Delish, Aunt Amelia!”
Liz begged to differ, but said, “Yum,” anyway. Her great-aunt had been let loose in Liz’s kitchen. Aunt Amelia had ignored all the gourmet lunch choices in the fridge, including Pops’s homemade
pâtè de champagne—country-style pâtè. Not that Liz didn’t live on English muffin pizza when she was in college, but even then, she’d sprinkled Italian seasoning on her tomato paste and used fresh mozzarella cheese. Her great-aunt’s heavy-handed choice of curry powder and blue cheese didn’t scream “pizza”; it screamed Pepto-Bismol.
Aunt Amelia clapped her hands. “Road trip! Let’s hit the trail. I call shotgun!”
Now Kate had done it. Per Betty’s assignment, Liz planned to head to Cocoa Beach with Kate and check out Iris’s mother’s return address on the envelope she’d stolen from under Iris’s bed. The envelope was safely tucked inside her handbag. But Liz didn’t want Aunt Amelia to know she was looking into Regina Harrington-Worth’s murder, or questioning her great-aunt’s choice of a housekeeper.
Liz said to Aunt Amelia, “I thought you had to wait for David Worth to come back from the hospital?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? They’re keeping him for one more night, which is a good thing, because the Windward Shores Suite hasn’t been used in decades, and Iris has a full day ahead of her.”
A half hour later, everyone was loaded into Kate’s aqua-colored van, which was probably built in the same decade when Aunt Amelia had starred in Dark Shadows. Kate loved it because it had lots of room in the back for her bike, surfboard, books, and the precious junk she rescued to go into her shop. When Kate dragged Liz to estate sales or antique shops, the hippie van perfectly fit the bill. Liz was always the designated map navigator, because Kate was one of those people who had no sense of direction. In Kate’s case, she seemed to enjoy getting lost. Everything was an adventure.
After Kate’s big announcement about their plans, Liz had texted her to keep quiet about their covert assignment involving Iris, saying their cover story would be that they were going to a potential client of Kate’s who was looking for a rare book. Aunt Amelia had been given a new cell phone for Christmas from her nephew, but she never used it except to call Liz, Fenton, or Betty. Unlike Betty, she didn’t grasp the “smart” part of a smartphone. Betty had tried to teach her a million times, to no avail. When things settled down, Liz had a great idea to motivate Aunt Amelia to use the Internet on her phone. She would download the YouTube app and let her search for clips from her past roles in TV Land.
Death by the Sea Page 13