The Iced Princess

by Christine Husom

  Emmy’s head hung low as she walked back to the jailer, and then the two of them left the courtroom. Five hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money. Three more people, all men, were brought to court before Mrs. Ryland was. I didn’t know there was so much going on in the county. It seemed like Emmy had gotten the book thrown at her, and I could only imagine what Judge Terney would do to Mrs. Ryland.

  The judge went through the same spiel with her as he had with the others. She, too, understood her rights. Her charges sounded almost as ominous as Emmy’s had: accessory after the fact for murder in the first degree, bribery, aiding an offender, and obstructing justice, all felony-level crimes. She agreed that she understood the charges and was ready to enter a plea. “I’m guilty, Judge Terney.”

  The judge nodded and studied her for a long moment. “I have read the complaint from the Brooks Landing Police, and the circumstances. Therefore, I am releasing you on your own recognizance with the expectation that you will return for your next appearance, which will be?” He stopped and looked at the clerk, who looked at the calendar and said, “November twenty-third at nine a.m.”

  Mrs. Ryland nodded and said, “I will be here.” Then she left with the jailer.

  I slipped out of the courtroom and headed down to the jail lobby. The officer looked up from her computer. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, Judge Terney just told Irene Ryland she was free to go, and I’d like to give her a ride home, if she needs one.”

  “And what is your name?”

  “Camryn Brooks.”

  She raised her eyebrows, making it clear to me that she was well aware of the recent crimes I’d been involved with. Not that I was directly involved, but close enough. Or maybe my name brought to mind the D.C. scandal. “Are you a relative or a friend?”

  “A sort of friend. Actually, I’m more her daughter’s friend. But if you tell her I’m here and can give her a ride, it will save her from having to call someone else. I just need to go get my car, which is a few blocks away.”

  The way the officer stared at me made me nervous, and I rambled on. “I will call booking and let them know,” she finally said.

  “Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”

  “It’ll be at least fifteen minutes until Ms. Ryland is out, depending on what else they have going on back there.”

  I nodded, thinking I’d said enough already, and braced myself for the breezy walk back to the shops.

  When I went into Brew Ha-Ha, Pinky stopped in her tracks. She had an expectant look on her face. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I didn’t have to bail Molly’s mom out after all because the judge released her. Emmy did not fare as well, I’m afraid. Her bail was set at half a million dollars.”

  “Holy moly, that’s way out of our league.”

  “That means the bond is fifty thousand. If it was for you or Erin, I’d borrow from my inheritance and retirement fund to put up the bond, but for Emmy?”

  “You got that right. Oh, and speaking of Erin, she called and said she’s coming in after school to help out. She wants to get more familiar with all the stuff on your shelves.”

  “Good, because I have something I’d like to do and I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’ll tell you later. I offered to give Mrs. Ryland a ride home from jail, so I’ve got to run. Thanks for helping me out here.”

  “Cami, you’re not thinking of going to Will Dalton’s house—”

  I pretended not to hear her and waved on the way out the door.

  —

  Mrs. Ryland tried to smile when she spotted me in the jail lobby, but her lips were trembling. I went to her, took her small bag, then offered my arm to lean on. “This is very kind of you, Cami. I didn’t know how I was going to tell Will about all of this, so this buys me a little time. He was the last one I wanted to have to call for a ride.”

  “No problem at all. My car isn’t far.” In fact it was the closest one in the lot to the door, after the handicapped spots. Even with her crippling disease, Mrs. Ryland walked smoothly and fairly quickly. And she was as silent as a kitten or cat burglar. When we were in the car and driving away, I said as gingerly as possible, “Mrs. Ryland, you haven’t said anything about a service for Molly.”

  “No, it hasn’t been set. I expected to meet with Will, but he hasn’t called to do that yet.”

  “Actually, I found out this morning that he’s planning to have one at his house today.”

  She turned her head to look at me. “What?”

  “It sounds like it’s going to be small.”

  “I don’t understand.” Mrs. Ryland looked down and paused a moment. “But then again, I haven’t been home the last two days if he’s been trying to call me.”

  “I’m sure that’s it.”

  When I stopped in front of her house, Mrs. Ryland said, “Do you mind seeing me in the door? I’m feeling a little shaky.”

  “I’d be happy to, and I’ll wait while you check your messages, if you’d like.”

  “That’d be nice.” She reached over and patted my hand. “Molly always helped me with whatever I needed. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”

  “You call me anytime, for any reason. And I know Pinky feels the same way. We’re happy to do whatever we can.”

  Tears formed in Mrs. Ryland’s eyes, and a small smile played at her lips. I went around and helped her out of the car and up the one step to a side entry door. Her bent, arthritic fingers fought to get the proper grip on her house key. I was ready to join the fight when she finally won the battle and got her door open. We went into the kitchen, and I saw the light on her answering machine was blinking—a good sign. Interestingly enough, there was no message from Will Dalton, however.

  Mrs. Ryland picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Will, it’s Irene. I was gone overnight and may have missed your call. I’m home now, so please call me.” She hung up and leaned on the counter for support. “It’s probably not the kind of thing he wanted to leave on my machine.”

  “That’s true. When I heard there might be a service today, I called Ike Walters, and he confirmed it was at three o’clock. So if you’d like a ride to Will’s house, I’m free to do that.”

  “Oh, well, I can drive myself.”

  “I thought maybe you’d like the company.”

  She reached over and touched my hand. “That would be nice if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble?”

  “No trouble at all.” Besides helping out Mrs. Ryland, it also gave me the opportunity to see who was in with the in crowd. “I’ll be back to get you at two thirty.”

  She nodded.

  —

  Pinky had a few people drinking beverages at her counter, and she was helping a customer in Curio Finds. I took over in my shop, but the woman was just browsing. At the first opportunity, I pulled Pinky aside in her back area and summed up the latest on Mrs. Ryland.

  “Cami, it’s nice that you’re helping Molly’s mother out and all, but you can’t just crash the memorial service. Even I know what ‘private’ means.”

  That brought a smile to my face. “Pinky, you know what private means, but—”

  She waved her hand between our faces. “Pshaw, whatever. Okay, well, you go do your thing and bring back a full report.” Pinky’s long arm reached around my back and gave it a pat, then she headed back to her service counter.

  —

  I went back and forth about calling the jail and leaving a message for Emmy, asking her to call me. In the end, I decided it would be better to talk to her in person instead. During a lull between customers, I sat down at my checkout counter with a pen and paper. Emmy was weighing heavily on my mind. The police had evidence against her, and maybe she was guilty, but a number of other suspects took turns bubbling to the surface.
Peter and Ramona Zimmer. Molly’s stepbrother. The unknown man who was in the shop looking for the blonde. And then there was the man with his suitcase that Ramona Zimmer let into her house. Five possibilities in addition to Emmy.

  My shop door opened, and when I saw a tall man with a round face staring and walking toward me, my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. I glanced at his hands to see if he was carrying any kind of weapon or an envelope that may be filled with suspicious powder. Nothing I could see, anyway. I heard Pinky moving around next door, and it calmed me to know that help was just one loud, bloody-murder scream away. “C-c-can I help you?”

  He shook his head and pursed his lips like he was holding back words that were trying to escape. There was something familiar about him. “Do we know each other from somewhere?” I asked, unable to stop myself. He shook his head again, and it felt like hundreds of pins and needles pricked at my shoulders and the back of my neck. The man broke eye contact and walked around the shop, looking at the shelves. He stopped near the back of the store and glanced first at the bathroom door, and then toward the storeroom area. He gave me one final stare, nodded, then headed into Brew Ha-Ha.

  I got off my seat and followed him, stopping by the archway opening to spy from the short distance. The coffee shop area was deserted, so Pinky was either in the bathroom or her back room. The man walked up to the counter and read the menu above it until he caught my reflection, as I was hovering and peeking around the edge of the archway. I would have moved, ducked behind it, except my feet were frozen in place. He turned, and I wondered if he was going to ask me for a cup of coffee. Instead, he turned again and walked out Pinky’s door. He was one strange dude, and I wondered if his elevator went to the top floor. Maybe he was casing the joint or had some other mysterious motivation.

  Pinky apparently heard the bell on her door ding, because she appeared from the back room. “Did someone come in?” she asked.

  “No, someone just left.”

  “Why are you standing there looking so weird, Cami?”

  “There was a man in here, first in my shop and then in yours. And I’m trying to figure out what he was up to.” I explained the encounter and then said, “You know that mystery man who was in here asking for the blonde the day Molly died?”

  “Of course.”

  “From the way you described the guy, it might have been him, back for a return visit.”

  Pinky came up beside me and leaned in close. “Why would he come back here and then just look around without saying a word?”

  “You know how they say criminals like to return to the scene of the crime?”

  Pinky grabbed my shoulders. “Cami, you have a way of scaring the bejeebers out of me.”

  I gave her hand a pat. “I wish you could have seen him. You’re the only one who would know if this man and that man are one and the same.”

  Pinky raised her eyebrows and shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. Like I said, I would have paid better attention to him if I’d known what was about to go down.”

  “He also looks a lot like that guy who was with Ramona Zimmer the other night. But I didn’t get a close enough look at him and don’t think I could pick him out of a lineup.”

  “What I think is that you should call the police.”

  “And tell them what? A man was in our shops, looked around, then left without saying a word?”

  “I guess you’re right.” She looked up at her clock. “Betty Boop says it’s about time for you to get a move on.”

  I looked at the clock, too. “I guess, and I have no idea if this will be a quick trip or what, so wish me luck, Pink.”

  “All right, luck. But I think you’re going to need more than that going into the lion’s den. And Erin should be here by three thirty, so don’t worry if you’re there for a while. Just bring back all the juicy news you can gather from the rich and famous.”

  I rolled my eyes then gathered my coat, hat, and gloves, and left. Mrs. Ryland was waiting by the door when I pulled up. I got out of the car to assist her. I worried that if she fell, she’d break in a bunch of places. Her black cashmere wool coat, no doubt a gift from Molly, was buttoned up to her neck. It had a hood, which I pulled up over her head. “All set?”

  Her shoulders lifted slightly. “Nothing in life really prepares you for this. You know, Will never called back, so I hope he got my message.”

  I nodded and offered her my arm.

  11

  There was only a handful of vehicles parked in front of Will Dalton’s home. Very, very expensive ones: a black Lexus SUV, a Bentley, a Porsche, an Aston Martin. I read the logo on one model and saw it was a Lamborghini. I considered parking my Subaru down the street a ways but chided myself for being silly. I owned it free and clear and knew that not everyone who drove top-of-the-line vehicles could afford them any more than I could.

  “I haven’t been here for quite some time,” Mrs. Ryland said.

  I didn’t ask her the reason why. Instead, I said, “I’m going to pull right into the driveway so we won’t have far to walk.”

  The more time I spent with Mrs. Ryland, the more questions I thought of to ask her. And the fact that Will did not consult his wife’s mother about her final arrangements was unheard of. The least he should have done was make sure she knew about the service, and then sent a car to pick her up. The Bentley would have been a nice, smooth ride for Mrs. Ryland.

  Mrs. Ryland sucked in a breath that sounded to me like she was calling for the courage to go in, or maybe even to go on at all. Her hesitation gave me cold feet, and I considered telling her to go in without me. But that wouldn’t have been fair, so I jumped out of the car before I changed my mind. She was partway out of her seat when I got to her side. Instead of taking my arm, she reached for my hand and held on tight all the way to the front door. I rang the bell, and a melodious series of perfectly pitched chimes sounded inside.

  A few seconds later the door opened, and who but Will’s young red-haired assistant stood there looking at us like we were yesterday’s trash. Her eyebrows were nearly touching her hairline, and her pouty mouth was half open. “Yes?”

  Something about her being there, coupled with her superior attitude, got my dander up. It’s entirely possible I pressed back against the door just enough to throw her slightly off balance. Not on purpose, of course, but before she could regain her composure I said, “Surely, you know Molly’s mother.” Yes, I sounded snotty and snooty, but Ms. Assistant needed to know Mrs. Ryland deserved respect, and she had to give it to her.

  “Oh.” Her eyebrows shot up impossibly higher as I pushed past her, dragging Mrs. Ryland with me. I was feeling rather righteous until I came face-to-face with Will Dalton. His cold gaze released some butterflies in my stomach and at once reminded me he was not a person to taunt or toy with. I was a memorial service crasher, and the way he was staring me down made it seem like the worst possible thing to be at that moment in time.

  Then, as if a fairy godmother waved a magic wand, his icy, cold expression changed to a seemingly sincere, warm one. Will took his mother-in-law’s hand and led her into an adjoining room. There was an urn on a pedestal table and some chairs in a circle around it. I counted eight others in the room besides the three of us. Ms. Assistant must have stayed back for door duty.

  Will helped Mrs. Ryland out of her coat and onto a chair in the circle. He hadn’t asked me to leave, so I stayed close then sat down next to Mrs. Ryland. Will walked over to a man in a high-priced suit and said something too quietly for me to hear. It couldn’t have been the minister, because he wouldn’t have that kind of money for clothes. The man glanced over at Mrs. Ryland and me and then said something back to Will. I thought for a moment that we’d met somewhere, but I dismissed that notion in a split second. We certainly did not run in the same circles.

  None of the people there sought out Mrs. Ryland to express their sympathies, and I found
that strange. Molly was her daughter, after all. Will was not the only one here who had suffered a loss. I leaned over to Mrs. Ryland’s ear and whispered, “Do you know all of these people?”

  “No, not a one. Except Will, of course.”

  If no one from Will’s family was there—and Mrs. Ryland would know them—who were these people?

  “All right, I think everyone is here, so let’s begin,” Will said.

  The few invited mourners took their seats, except for the man Will had talked to. He had moved someplace behind Mrs. Ryland and me, and I didn’t want to turn around to see where. There were four men and three women. Thankfully, Ms. Assistant did not come in and join the group.

  Will sat down across from us and directed his attention to Mrs. Ryland. “Irene, would you like to say a few words?”

  She drew in a quick breath and thought for a minute. “I didn’t prepare anything, so I’ll just say Molly was a special person and the most caring and loving daughter a mother could hope for . . . And she didn’t deserve to die like that.” Mrs. Ryland broke down, and the tears flowed freely. When I put an arm around her, she leaned into me.

  Will looked down at his folded hands and nodded. His reaction struck me as off, and I wasn’t sure why. After a while, he lifted his head and zeroed in on me. “Ms. Brooks?”

  I was beyond surprised. What in the world could I come up with to say about Molly on the spot? I had worked on overcoming my fear of public speaking for many years, but this strange gathering did nothing to ease my anxiety. Plus, I figured it was best to keep my mouth shut, that way there was nothing that could be used against me in a court of law. I was more and more convinced that was where Will Dalton would drag us someday. I shrugged my shoulders slightly and shook my head.

  “Anyone else?” Will asked of the small group. Several made nice comments, but nothing seemed heartfelt. Finally, it was Will’s turn. He studied the urn holding Molly’s ashes and opened his mouth, but instead of talking, he let out a wail that honestly scared me half out of my wits. Mrs. Ryland jumped right out of my half hug and sucked in a little gasp of air. Will pulled a hankie out of his front pocket and buried his face in it for a long time, crying silently. When he finished, he wiped his nose then stuck the hankie in his pants pocket.