They had stayed up late the night before, hashing out a plan of action. Whoever had killed Prudence must have been in the coffee shop when she had her run in with Morgan, or at least heard about it from someone who was there. Fiona and Morgan would try to find out who was in the coffee shop that morning. Celeste’s job was to find out if any of her customers at the yoga center knew anything and Cal was going to ask some of his seedier clients at the pawn shop what they knew about it. Fiona didn’t want Jolene getting involved, but Jolene had insisted on asking around to see if any of her friends had heard anything about the murder.
Fiona padded into the kitchen, feeling the cold of the granite tile on her bare feet. She made her way to the coffee maker and popped in a k-cup. She really needed a large latte to get her going, but this would have to do until she could make it to the coffee shop.
“Meow.” Belladonna jabbed at her calf, the needle-like claws raking her flesh.
“Ouch! Cut that out.” Fiona swatted at the cat with her foot.
Belladonna responded by trotting over to the kitchen door and scratching at it. “Meow!”
“Oh, you want me to let you out. Why didn’t you just say so?” Fiona took her cup of steaming coffee and walked over to the door. Peeking out the window, she could see the sunlight hitting the tiny plants in Morgan’s herb garden.
She opened the door and Belladonna streaked out into the garden. Fiona followed relishing the feel of the dew soaked grass on her bare feet, even if it was a little cold.
She turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, inhaling the bitter aroma of the coffee.
“Meooooow.”
Fiona opened her eyes and looked toward the cat who was scratching at the ground.
“Belladonna, stop that! Morgan will be mad if you dig up her plants.”
Belladonna didn’t stop. She dug even more furiously at the ground. Fiona’s brows knit together as she watched the cat. She was digging in an isolated part of the garden … one Morgan hadn’t planted in yet.
“I hope you aren’t digging up a dead mouse.”
Fiona walked over. Looking down at the patch of dirt Belladonna was working on, she saw something strange. She bent down for a closer look.
“What’s this?” She tugged at the bright orange fabric.
Her heart froze when she recognized the sunflower scarf in her hands.
Prudence Littlefield’s scarf. The one she was wearing the day she was murdered.
Fiona couldn’t help but wonder, what was it doing in Morgan’s garden?
Chapter Nine
“If you ask me, it was Berta Crumm who done it.”
Fiona narrowed her eyes at Agatha Beesley who stood on the other side of her jewelry case, trying a carnelian bracelet on her wrist.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Berta and Prudence had a long going feud,” she said twisting her ample wrist to study the bracelet from different angles.
Who didn’t Prudence have a feud with?
Agatha glanced around the shop then leaned in toward Fiona, lowering her voice. “Prudence stole Ed away from Berta, you know.”
Fiona made a face. Picturing a love triangle between Prudence, Ed and Berta, even in their younger days was too much. She gulped down the rest of her latte wishing the cup held something stronger.
“So, you think Berta might have killed Prudence because she stole Ed form her fifty some-odd years ago? It hardly seems likely she would have waited that long.”
Agatha nodded, returning her attention to the bracelet. “They’ve had quite a few fights about it over the years, maybe the opportunity just presented itself.”
Fiona looked across the shop at Morgan who was busy preparing a salve of ground up jewelweed to help someone with a bad case of poison ivy. She’d arrived late at the shop after getting their tea and coffee from the cafe and hadn’t told Morgan about the scarf, yet. Her stomach churned just thinking about it. She was afraid of what Morgan might say about the scarf being buried in the garden. Did she bury it there, and, if so, why?
“I’ll take this and those matching earrings.” Agatha interrupted her thoughts.
Fiona packaged up the jewelry and rang up the sale, thanking Agatha for her purchase and her information.
The bell over the door announced Agatha’s departure and Morgan looked up, meeting Fiona’s eyes.
“We should at least talk to Berta,” she said.
Fiona nodded. “And figure out anyone else who might have wanted her dead. She was mean to almost everyone, maybe there are other people who would have wanted to kill her.”
“Maybe she ran into someone in the woods, was her usual nasty self, and they killed her in a fit of anger.”
“We should probably talk to her husband too,” Fiona said. “The spouse is the first person they usually question in the movies. And we need to come up with a list of everyone who witnessed your conversation in the cafe that morning.”
Morgan sighed. “Jeez, almost half the town was there.” She closed her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip. “I remember seeing Elle from the bakery, Katie Morton, Sandy Shawnee, Eli Stark…” Her voice trailed off. “It’s no use. We could never talk to all these people. How will we narrow it down?”
Fiona felt her stomach sinking. Morgan was right. Too many people had been in the cafe. Not to mention that word had probably spread all around town about their altercation. Anyone could have known what Morgan had said to Prudence that day.
They sat in silence, each of them wrestling with their own thoughts. The grandfather clock, passed down by some distant relative, tick-tocked off the seconds measuring the passage of time. Time.
“That’s it!” Fiona snapped her fingers.
Morgan raised her eyebrows. “What?”
“Maybe instead of trying to prove who did do it, we can prove that you couldn’t have done it.” Fiona held her breath waiting to see Morgan’s reaction. She did feel sure her sister couldn’t have killed Prudence despite the incriminating scarf in her garden, didn’t she?
“How would we do that?” Morgan narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to one side.
“Easy. You came here straight after you left the coffee shop, right?”
Morgan nodded.
“Then all we need to do is establish a timeline and prove that you didn’t have time to kill Prudence.”
“But we don’t even know exactly what time she was killed … maybe we can get that information from Jake,” Fiona ignored the mischievous glint in Morgan’s eyes and pursed her lips.
“No, we can’t trust him. But we can trust Delphine, I’ll see if I can get the time of death from her. But we do know she was strangled in the woods in between the coffee shop and her house.”
“Which is only about one quarter mile from here.”
“How fast can you run a quarter mile?”
“Run? You know I never run.” Morgan laughed.
“Well, if you just strangled someone, you might be running.”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. Five minutes maybe?”
“But you’d have to go out of your way to get to the woods. We need to find out exactly where Prudence was killed. Visit the scene of the crime, so to speak. Then we can figure out how long it would take you to go from the cafe, to the scene, strangle her and then come here.”
“How long do you think it takes to strangle someone?” Morgan asked.
“I have no idea, but if we can prove that you wouldn’t have had time, they’ll have to drop the charges.”
“Yes, but I still don’t see how we can prove it.”
“Well, I remember looking at my watch when you came in because I was dying for my latte. It was just after ten past eight. Maybe someone who was in the coffee shop will remember what time you left?”
Morgan looked at her dubiously. “Do you really think so?”
Fiona sighed. It was a long shot, they needed something more concrete.
“Wait a minute … did you get a receipt?”
Fiona watched Morgan dig in her pockets, a cloud passing over her face as she came up empty.
“I was wearing these yesterday. They took everything out of the pockets at the jail, so, if I have one, it must be in the envelope they gave me.”
“We’ll look for that tonight. It might be a great way to prove you are innocent. If the police will believe me when I tell them what time you got here …”
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, seems like Overton might not go for that. But it’s worth a try.”
“Okay, well anyway back to—”
Fiona was interrupted by the trilling of her cell phone on the workbench behind her. She turned to look at the display and her heart lurched. Jolene. She never called her at work unless something was wrong.
She dived for the phone. “Hello?”
“Fiona? It’s Jolene. You guys better get home quick. The police are here and they’re digging up the yard!”
Chapter Ten
Skidding her truck to a stop at the edge of the driveway, Fiona jumped out, her heart pounding in her chest as she ran to the garden on the East side of the house.
Her body tensed with anger when she saw what was going on. Sheriff Overton stood watch over Jake Cooper and another officer while they turned the earth over with shovels. She noticed they were in the exact area where she had found the scarf. How did they know exactly where to look?
Jolene stood off to the side, her eyes wide. Morgan ran to her and put a comforting arm around her.
Fiona stood frozen, staring at the men, trying to get her mouth to work when the screech of tires in the driveway caught her attention. She turned her head in time to see Delphine running toward Overton flapping her arms.
“Just what do you think you are doing?” she demanded.
Fiona felt her stomach roil with anger at the smug look on Overton’s face. He stared Delphine down, his tongue switching the toothpick from side to side.
“We got an anonymous tip that someone saw your client bury a crucial piece of evidence here.”
“What are you talking about?” Delphine turned to Morgan. “Do you know anything about this?”
Morgan shook her head.
Fiona noticed the perplexed look on Morgan’s face. Either she’d taken acting lessons, or she really did know nothing about the scarf.
“Let me see the warrant.” Delphine stuck her hand out toward Overton.
“Listen Missy, I don’t need a warrant. I got a tip.”
“You most certainly do need one,” Delphine countered. “And I suggest you either produce one or get off my client’s property unless you want a lawsuit. And don’t call me Missy!”
Fiona noticed Jake carefully putting the dirt back, taking care not to disturb Morgan’s tender seedlings. He looked up and she felt a jolt go through her when their eyes met.
Overton looked down at Delphine then glared over at Morgan. “If we have to take time to get a warrant, that will give your client a chance to move the evidence.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before and gone through the proper channels.” Delphine spit back at him. “Now move it.”
Overton nodded to Jake and the other officer who was leaning on his shovel listening to the exchange.
“Let’s pack it up boys, we’ll come back later. I know the evidence is here.” He stared at Morgan as he said the words then started off toward the front of the house. Fiona shrank back when he brushed past her.
Delphine turned to Fiona. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
Fiona’s stomach flipped. Should she tell her? Her first instinct was to keep quiet. If she let Delphine know she’d found the scarf, she’d probably make her give it up to the police, and Fiona had a sneaking suspicion the police were planning to use that scarf to incriminate Morgan.
“No idea,” she said, mentally crossing her fingers.
“Let me know if he comes here again without a warrant.”
“Okay, thanks for getting here so fast.” Fiona had called the lawyer as soon as she’d hung up with Jolene. Delphine must have had to break some speeding records to get there when she did.
“All in a day’s work,” Delphine said, nodding to Fiona, then turning and trotting off toward her car.
Fiona could see Jolene almost in tears over by the house.
“I didn’t know the right thing to do,” she was saying to Morgan.
“You called us right away, that was the right thing,” Morgan assured her, then ushered her into the house by the kitchen door.
Fiona started over toward the door herself, noticing that Jake was still in the garden, apparently trying to put it back the way he found it.
She stomped over, wanting him off the property along with the other members of the police.
“You can go now too, we’ll take care of this.” She stood with her hands on her hips.
Jake glanced around then leaned toward her. “Listen, I think something funny is going on. This tip … it just didn’t seem right.”
Fiona stepped back, narrowing her eyes. Was this some sort of trick?
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a certain procedure, but this one … it just seemed to come out of thin air.”
He had stepped even closer now so that he towered over her. She could smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. His gray eyes mesmerized her and she stepped closer. He put his hand on her arm, causing a cascade of tingles to flutter in her lower belly. He leaned closer toward her.
“You better warn Morgan to be on her guard. Something isn’t right here.”
Fiona blinked at his warning. Then he let her arm go abruptly, turned and walked toward the front of the house.
She stared after him, noticing how his backside filled out his uniform just perfectly. Then she shook herself.
What was she thinking?
Even though Jake’s warning seemed sincere, she still didn’t think she could trust him. His concern for Morgan made her feel a little funny. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it was jealousy. Laughing at herself, she turned toward the kitchen door.
That was ridiculous … she didn’t give two figs about Jake Cooper. Why would she feel jealous if he had the hots for Morgan?
Chapter Eleven
Fiona came in the kitchen door just as Celeste came in the front door.
“We’re in here!” Morgan called out into the front hallway.
Celeste came rushing in, her face flushed. “What happened, I heard the police were here?”
Morgan got up to make tea while Fiona told Celeste about the police digging in the garden. She paced the room, hands flying in the air, anger rising inside her as she relayed the events.
When she was done, Morgan handed her a cup of tea.
“What’s this? I don’t drink that stuff, I drink coffee.” Fiona pushed the cup away.
“Right now you need something calming, not caffeine to ramp you up more, just sit and drink it.” Morgan pushed the cup into her hands and pulled out a chair which Fiona obediently sat in.
She took a sip and almost spit it out. “Blech. This tastes like grass, what’s in here?”
“Oh a little chamomile and some other herbs to relax you. Drink,” Morgan commanded, leaning against the kitchen counter on the other side of the bar.
Fiona wrinkled her nose, but took another sip. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad. And she did feel calmer already.
“I don’t think I understand. What did they think was in the garden?” Celeste asked.
“I’m not sure, some sort of evidence,” Morgan answered. “Fi, do you know what that was all about?”
Fiona’s heart tightened in her chest. She had to come clean with her sisters.
“Well, actually I do,” she said. Setting down her cup, she looked at Morgan, her stomach fluttering. She hoped her sister w
ouldn’t be mad that she didn’t come to her right away.
“Well?” Morgan lifted her shoulders, “What is it?”
“There was some evidence in the garden, except I found it before they did.”
Celeste gasped, “What was it?”
“Prudence Littlefield’s scarf. The one she was wearing the day she was killed.”
Morgan, Celeste and Jolene stared at her in silence.
“What are you talking about?” Morgan asked.
“This morning, I was the first one up. Belladonna wanted to go out, so I let her out the door here, next to the garden. It was a beautiful morning and I went out for a breath of fresh air. That’s when I found the scarf. It was buried on the edge of the garden, near the tomato seedlings.”
“Buried? Then how did you find it?” Jolene asked.
“Well, it actually wasn’t me who found it. It was Belladonna. She led me right to it.”
Everyone turned to look at Belladonna who lay sleeping on the wide windowsill at the back of the kitchen. She turned her head toward them, opened one sleepy blue eye, then closed it and went back to sleep.
“She was digging in the garden and dug it right up,” Fiona added.
Morgan looked away from the cat and Fiona flinched at the anger she saw in her sister’s eyes.
“So, you had the scarf and didn’t even tell me? We were at work together all morning and you never mentioned it. Why?”
Fiona’s heart squeezed. She didn’t want Morgan to know she had doubted her.
“I didn’t really get a chance,” she said, mostly telling the truth. “There was someone in the shop when I got there with the coffee and then Agatha came in, then we got involved in talking about how to find the killer and then Jolene called.”
Morgan nodded, looking away. “Where is it now?”
“I hid it in my room,” Fiona said, picturing the scarf tucked neatly in her secret hiding place under a floor board in the corner.
“Shouldn’t we bring it to the police?” Celeste asked.
“No!” Fiona, Morgan, and Jolene all shouted at once.
1 Dead Wrong Page 4