Macramé Murder

by Mollie Cox Bryan

  “Okay,” Cora said, and texted her back.

  The room was buzzing with police officers, both uniformed and not. Some were on their phones, some were on their laptops.

  “Look at this,” one of them said to another one. Cora stood and moved to a better place, where she could view what the officer was pointing to.

  “This link is tracing somewhere,” he said. “Watch it.”

  “What’s the link to?” Cora asked.

  Both looked up at her.

  “This is the link to Mr. O’Malley’s research at the courthouse. You were right. Someone was watching him,” the man said.

  “But who?” Cashel said.

  “It’s a sophisticated hack,” the officer said. “It’s going to take some time for this to run.”

  “What the hell is going on?” a feminine voice said from behind them. It was Ruby. “Where is Adrian?”

  “We don’t know,” Jane said. “We’re trying to find him.”

  “Well, sitting in a room in the middle of the resort ain’t finding nobody,” she said.

  “We’ve searched the premises and teams are hunting the island for him,” Cashel said. “You were in class. We didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “What’s this?” she asked, pointing to the computer.

  “This is the proof that someone was watching me when I was researching Adrian’s case. Probably the same person who drugged me and might have Adrian,” Cashel said.

  “Lordy bee,” Ruby said, obviously amazed at the technology.

  Suddenly the screen flashed. “Okay,” the man said. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “What? What is it?” Ruby said.

  “It links to a computer at the courthouse. A public one. One that anybody could be using,” the man said with a note of disappointment.

  “But wait,” Cora said. “Don’t people have to sign in to use them?”

  “Not anymore,” he responded. “But we could pull the tapes from the security cameras. Jacobs?”

  “On it, sir,” he said.

  “So we’re trying to find a left-handed person who was using the computers Saturday afternoon?” Jane asked.

  “I don’t think many people use those computers,” the officer said. “It’s a small island and most people have their own computer these days. This will be easy.”

  “Let’s hope we’re right about it,” Cashel said. “And that it leads us to the person who can tell us where Adrian is. If they drugged me, God only knows what they’ve done to him.”

  “But why?” Ruby said. “Why would people bother with you two? I don’t understand. It makes no sense.”

  “I know, right?” Jane said.

  The officers quieted.

  “Well, the answer is, as ridiculous as it sounds, Adrian is a murder suspect, and Cashel his attorney. That more than connects them to this island and puts them in the public eye,” Jane said.

  “Yes, but we know Adrian couldn’t harm a fly. And Cashel was doing his job,” Ruby said, then paused. “Someone is setting up Adrian.”

  “No,” Cora said. “I don’t think so. He texted Marcy. He was an ex-boyfriend. Then she turns up dead, poisoned by someone who obviously knew about her allergy. It does look suspicious. The police have to check everybody out.”

  “But he didn’t do it,” Ruby said. “We know that. The police should realize that by now.”

  “He does have an alibi for the second murder,” one officer said.

  “Doesn’t that let him off the first one?” Ruby persisted.

  “Not necessarily,” the officer said.

  “Do you mean there could be two killers on this island?” Jane said.

  The officer shrugged. “We don’t know now.”

  “We’re doing our best,” another one said.

  A cell phone rang. One of the detectives picked up and walked to another part of the room.

  “Well, are you hungry, Cashel? I can bring you something. It’s getting late,” Ruby said.

  “No, Mom, I’m not hungry,” he said. “Thanks for offering.”

  The officer who left the group came back, face fallen in confusion. “I’ve gotten some disturbing news.”

  Cora reached for Jane’s hand and gripped it firmly. “Adrian? Is he . . . ?”

  He shook his head. “No. Nothing about Adrian.”

  “Then what is it, man?” Ruby said.

  “The person who was using the computer at the courthouse was Zooey,” he said. “Our second victim. She was there about a few hours before . . . she was killed.”

  The room silenced. One officer in the corner stopped keyboarding. Another one walked over to the circle.

  “Well, that puts a whole new spin on things, doesn’t it?” he said.

  “So, what was she hiding?” Cashel said. “What didn’t she want me to find out? And who was working with her?”

  “What do you mean? I don’t follow,” Jane said.

  “She was not at the Drunken Mermaid. I’m certain I would have remembered. Someone there drugged me.”

  “Just because you didn’t see her doesn’t mean she wasn’t there,” Cora said.

  Chapter 50

  “Okay, so you all are aware Zooey was Susan, who used to work for Marcy, right?” Cora said.

  “Of course we know that,” Detective Andrews said.

  “Maybe Marcy was not a good employer,” Jane said. “Maybe this was all about a disgruntled employee.”

  “Well, hold on. Just because she messed with Cashel doesn’t mean she killed Marcy,” Ruby said.

  “Thank you very much,” the detective chimed in. “Now, I think it would be fine for you to all leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you find my client,” Cashel said.

  The room silenced again.

  “Suit yourself,” Detective Andrews responded.

  “So back to Zooey, or Susan, or whoever she was,” Jane said. “How long ago was she employed by Marcy? It must have been quite a while ago. Because I’ve known her work as Zooey for a long time.”

  “It’s been at least eight years,” Cora said.

  “She was holding a grudge that long and decided to off her ex-boss on her wedding night?” Ruby said, incredulous.

  “Stranger things have happened, Mother,” Cashel said. “But I agree we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I’m not interested in solving the murder. I’m interested in finding Adrian and having those charges dropped.”

  “But maybe finding the killer will lead us to Adrian,” Cora said.

  “I doubt it,” Ruby said. “You’ve been watching too many CSI’s or something. Jesus.”

  “What’s CSI?” Cora asked.

  “A TV show,” Ruby said.

  “I don’t watch TV,” Cora said. “Sorry.”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. I’m just saying things in real life often don’t work like they do in books and movies.”

  “Here’s something,” one of the officers said. He was sitting at a laptop in the corner of the room. The group gathered around. “I searched for Susan and this came up. She was engaged to our boy, Josh Dupres.”

  “Back when she worked for Marcy,” Cora said.

  “Now, taking someone’s man? That’s cause for murder,” Ruby said.

  Everybody turned their attention toward her.

  “I mean, nothing is cause for murder, but for a disturbed person, it’s plenty,” Ruby said.

  “Okay, so we have a working theory. Let’s say Zooey did kill Marcy,” Jane said. “Then who killed Zooey?”

  “I’d say, if your zany theory is correct, the next person to investigate is Josh, and he is left-handed,” Cora said. “Whoever made that macramé bag was left-handed.” A chill crept into Cora’s bones as she remembered the vacant stare.

  “If he’s the killer, he must know where Adrian is,” Cora said.

  “We have no real proof of anything. We need to be careful here and get our ducks in a row,” said the detective.

  “We have
proof of Zooey messing with Cashel’s computer, but that’s it,” one officer said.

  “And we’re aware of the past between them all,” Jane said.

  “I think we can get a search warrant for the Drunken Mermaid,” Detective Andrews said.

  “I agree,” Cashel said. “That’s the place to start.”

  “What about bringing Josh in for questioning?” Cora said.

  “In due time,” the officer said. “We need to have a reason to bring him in. Your love triangle theory is a theory. It’s a viable one. Don’t misunderstand me. But still. We need to proceed with caution.”

  “Why? A man’s life might be hanging in the balance,” Cora said.

  “We have to consider everybody’s rights here. We can’t accuse people of crimes until we have more proof.”

  “That’s true,” Cashel said. “Cora, you need to calm down.”

  “It’s just that when we were at Rue’s earlier, the man seemed disturbed and I kind of know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen that vacant stare before. It frightened me,” she said.

  “I say we need to make one more visit to Rue’s place. He might still be there. We can go and ask for her help once again and check out the situation. But I don’t want to alert him. Not yet,” Detective Andrews said.

  Cora’s stomach settled. At least someone intended to do something. She felt a sudden urge to leave the room.

  “I need to take a walk,” she said.

  “Don’t go too far,” Cashel replied.

  “No,” she said. “I’m just going out on the resort beach. I need some air.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Jane said.

  The room had gotten heated, even though the air-conditioning was running. It was a small room. Maybe there were too many people. Cora needed to leave.

  She and Jane walked down the corridor and into the lobby.

  Cora stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Tom, Zooey’s assistant. It was the second time today she’d seen him. He seemed awfully cool and collected for a man who’d lost his boss to a gruesome murder.

  “What’s wrong?” Jane said.

  “Tom, Zooey’s assistant, over there. I don’t like him,” Cora said.

  “That’s not like you,” Jane said.

  “Look at him. Look how slick and cool he is. He’s so fake. Something is not right about him,” Cora said.

  “It’s likely he’s not an emotional guy,” Jane said, pulling Cora along to the door. “You’re overwrought. Let’s take in some fresh air and a glass of wine.”

  “Okay,” Cora said. “Air is exactly what I need.” But she couldn’t shake her feeling about the slick man she’d left behind in the lobby.

  Chapter 51

  Jane hated to leave the action in the situation room. But she felt like Cora needed to get out of there. Now that they were on the beach, Jane was glad they took the time to step out.

  She sighed as she took in the sea. “It’s so gorgeous here,” she said.

  “I wish I could enjoy it,” Cora said. Her voice was taut. She was stressed. Worried about Adrian.

  “I think he’s going to be fine. He’s a tough guy,” Jane said.

  “What? Adrian? No, he’s not,” Cora said.

  “What I mean is, he’s resilient.”

  Cora nodded. “Yes,” she said. “That’s a perfect word for him.”

  As they walked along, Jane spotted a cluster of sea glass and reached down for a handful. The glass shone the sea-green jewel tone against her skin.

  “Gorgeous,” Cora said. “The island is certainly gifted with glass and shells and all things beachy.”

  As they walked further down the shoreline, the sound of the ocean took over from the sound of people, laughing, chatting, children squealing. The roaring hush of the sea filled their ears.

  “What will we do if something happens to him?” Cora said.

  “Let’s not go there,” Jane said.

  “Okay. What should we talk about? The price of rice in China?” Cora said.

  “Let’s talk about Zooey or Susan or whoever she was,” Jane said.

  “I never liked her,” Cora said. “I found her to be fake.”

  “You don’t like her assistant either. That’s interesting. But I recognize what you mean about Zooey,” Jane said. “I thought she was off-putting. But she was a gifted macramé artist.”

  “True,” Cora said. “Proving yet again that just because you’re talented, that does not make you a nice person.”

  “So, let’s say Zooey did kill Marcy Grimm,” Jane said. “Say she was pissed they were getting married.”

  “After all that time, to be harboring a resentment like that?”

  “Maybe it’s what fueled her success,” Jane said. “She was so ambitious.”

  “Ambitious enough to change her name and get a nose job, apparently,” Cora said with a sarcastic edge.

  Jane wondered where her own ambition came from. As she mulled it over, she concluded she wasn’t ambitious at all. She just wanted to do pottery, just be able to make a living from her art. She didn’t care to be famous at all—although she was in some circles. What about Cora? Was she ambitious? She thought that over as they walked along the beach. Cora had certainly changed—and was still changing. She’d grown from the anxiety-riddled counselor into a business owner who occasionally had bouts of anxiety. But man, as Jane thought it over, Cora had come a long way.

  Indigo Gap had helped her. Escaping from Pittsburgh worked wonders. Nothing wrong with the city—it was her job and the memories there that were sucking Cora under. What was her friend’s ambition? Was it to continue to help people, but in a different way? Or was there more to it?

  “I miss my little carriage house,” Jane said.

  “I miss Indigo Gap,” Cora said. “It has become home, hasn’t it?”

  “We’ve been there less than a year,” Jane said.

  “With any luck, we’ll be there for many more years to come,” Cora said.

  “When we get back, we can talk about revamping the kitchen, okay?” Jane said. “It’d be so much fun to have baking and food crafting classes. Don’t you think?”

  Cora nodded. “I’m not sure we’re there yet, but we’ll know soon enough.”

  “I guess we should head back,” Jane said. They turned back toward the resort.

  “That room,” Cora said. “I felt kind of claustrophobic.”

  Jane noted Cora’s coloring was back. In fact, she was starting to redden.

  “You might be starting to burn. We better get inside,” Jane said. Cora was extremely fair—and Jane was not. They looked like quite the opposite people from the outside. Jane was tall, and voluptuous. Cora was a waif. Jane smiled—she always thought of a fairy-warrior princess when she thought of Cora, with her red curls and vintage clothes. Jane was all about jeans and T-shirts and wore her long, straight, brown hair in a ponytail.

  “But other than the pink, your coloring is back. I’m glad you left the room when you did,” Jane said. “It’s stressful.”

  “Yes, but at the same time, I want to help. Adrian is my boyfriend. I care about him. But it’s so frustrating. We’ve looked everywhere. The police are searching. He certainly didn’t disappear into thin air. Where could he be?”

  “I was wondering the same thing. I mean, the island is so small. How could you hide someone?”

  “Are there caves? Underground caverns?” Cora asked. “Something like that?”

  “I doubt it. But we can find out. More likely, someone has Adrian in a house or a basement,” Jane said.

  “That thought doesn’t soothe me at all,” Cora said.

  “I know,” Jane said. “But the reality is someone has him. He could be anywhere. We have to trust the local officials are searching the island thoroughly.”

  Chapter 52

  Entering the lobby of the hotel was like a cool, crisp splash of water to the face. Cora felt much better. Until Tom came her way.

  “Hello, Cora,” he said, tu
rning on the charm. “How are you today?”

  “Fine, Tom,” she said. “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said. “Listen, I’d like to have a chat with you. Do you mind?”

  “Sure,” she said. What could he possibly have to talk with her about? They had barely spoken two words to one another the whole retreat.

  “I’ll meet you in the situation room,” Jane said, moving forward.

  “Actually,” he said with his voice lower, as he grabbed Cora by the elbow and pushed her toward the elevator. “I’d like you to come to my room.”

  She planted herself. “I’m not going to your room, Tom.”

  His face reddened. “Look, I have something I want to show you.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’ve heard that one before and I can assure you you’ve got nothing I want to see!”

  “Hold on,” he said, and dug into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He handed it to her. She recognized the neat, slanted handwriting. It was a note from Adrian. It read: “Cora, trust him. Go to his room with him. Love, Adrian.”

  Her heart raced. “Is this some kind of ruse? If you know where Adrian is, you better tell me and the police now.”

  “Please,” he said, and pushed her around the corner of the corridor.

  A woman who walked by glanced at them. He smiled and stroked Cora’s hair.

  She smacked his hand away.

  “Cora,” he whispered. “Adrian is in my room. I’m with the FBI. You need to come with me.”

  “But I—” she started to say.

  He gestured for her to follow and this time she did so.

  FBI? What was going on here? She’d always felt something wasn’t right about Tom. If he truly was an FBI agent, why was he here?

  She slipped into the elevator behind him, then leaned against the elevator wall as he pushed the buttons. All the way to the top. Were they going to one of the penthouse rooms?

  “You better not be lying to me,” she said. She still didn’t like him. What if he had kidnapped Adrian and was the killer?

  As they exited the elevator, she stood firm again. They were the only two in the hallway. “I need to see some ID before I go any further with you.”

  He dug into his pocket again. “He said you were going to be a problem,” Tom said, grinning.