The shrill tone of the phone ringing interrupted the silence as she stood, startling her. She hesitated, wondering whether or not to answer it. If it was for Eina or Roger, the caller would likely call back later. Then it occurred to her that it might be Eina or Louise trying to contact her. After a few moments of indecision, she finally padded out to the kitchen in her stocking feet.
“Hello?”
There was only silence on the other end.
She paused, then said, “Hello?” again, but there was still no answer.
She hung up. A few seconds later the phone rang again.
Maybe the caller was having problems with his or her cell phone. She tried answering again.
Still nothing but silence. Irritated, Margaret put the receiver back on its cradle far less gently than before.
Almost immediately, it began to ring again. This was starting to get creepy and she was beginning to regret not joining Louise and Candice. Whoever was calling didn’t seem inclined to stop.
Feeling an intense need to get out of the house, Margaret grabbed a light jacket, slung her bag over one shoulder, slipped on her shoes, and stepped outside, locking the front door behind her. She decided to walk downtown, grab something to eat, then stroll along waterfront and try to collect her thoughts.
She walked quickly at first, unconsciously trying to put distance between herself and the empty house, with its incessantly ringing phone. Maybe it was just some sort of spooky coincidence, but the timing left something to be desired. By the time she got to Hillcrest Park, she had relaxed slightly, and slowed her pace to a stroll. She found a spot to sit on the stone wall, swinging her legs over one of the two small cannons that aimed eastward toward the harbour. They were set into the low, stone wall that ran the length of the park at the hilltop. She admired the view of the lake and downtown area below, with the Giant and the grain elevators lakeside, and the grand old houses lining High Street on the west.
As the tension in her body began to subside, Margaret realized she was tired. It wasn’t just from a long day that had begun with a strenuous climb, but she was deeply tired from the strange and stressful week she had experienced. She began to miss her quiet house back in Jackpine—a town where nothing ever happened. Maybe it was time for her and Louise to head back home. There seemed to be no point in continuing to hang around Thunder Bay any longer. They seemed to attract drama.
She had really enjoyed getting to know Jimmy, though, not to mention Tom. She hopped off the stone wall and headed toward the terraced knoll where a three-foot cast-iron bell was set on a concrete platform. The last time Margaret and Louise had visited, Eina had brought them here with a picnic lunch. Eina had told them at the time that no one in Thunder Bay knew for sure where the bell had come from, only that it seemed to have always been there. Generations of children had climbed this hill, tossed pebbles at the iron bell to hear its sound, and walked the stone fence separating the ridge of the park from the downtown streets.
The park itself was an unassuming, but very pleasing, play area, and Margaret would have been content to stroll here all evening, watching the children play, but her stomach let out a loud growl, reminding her that it had been a long time since she had eaten lunch at the Hoito.
She knew of several places to eat that were within walking distance. She continued her stroll, pondering her options, as she passed an old blues guitarist busking in front of the The Calico Cat Coffeehouse. At the corner, she crossed over and stepped inside The Madhouse, but quickly stepped out again. The noise of the Friday evening crowd was definitely not what she needed at the moment.
She wanted to find somewhere more quiet, where she could linger anonymously over dinner and a glass of wine, mulling over the day’s and week’s events. Somewhere with a view of the lake would be ideal. Finally, she realized that what she was looking for could be found in dining room at the Harbourview Inn. Since she and Louise had originally planned to enjoy their holiday at the Inn, it seemed like a fitting place to go for her last dinner before going home.
Ten minutes later, she was seated at a window table, looking out over the brilliant, blue water of Lake Superior. It took her longer than usual to decide what to eat, with such a distractingly beautiful view continuously pulling her eyes away from the menu. She would miss this view when she and Louise returned to Jackpine. On the other hand, after a week away from painting, she was beginning to feel the itch to get back to her art.
Returning her attention to the menu, she looked with interest at the Thai dishes. Remembering the advice of the woman at the hotel pool on Monday, she was careful to avoid anything marked with more than one chili pepper beside the description. In the end she chose a dish that combined sliced grilled sirloin with mango and peanuts. As she sipped her wine in pleasant anticipation, her thoughts stubbornly continued to circle the week’s events.
There had been the sightings of Mrs. Whalen, the not-so-much-grieving widow, out enjoying concerts and shopping for expensive jewellery, quarrelling with her sister-in-law, and barking cryptic warnings at her lawyer/companion. The same woman had gone to the spa right after her husband’s funeral, and her lawyer had threatened Margaret.
Not that I didn’t deserve it, Margaret had to admit to herself. After all, she had been stalking him, albeit unwillingly.
Then there were hints of organized crime, and Jimmy’s warning to steer clear of the whole matter, not to mention the string of enemies Doug Whalen seemed to have accumulated everywhere he went—including his one-time girlfriend Charlisse and the assistant casino manager. Even Thomas Greenfield and his would-be sweetheart, Mary Carlisle, were possible suspects, as far-fetched as that notion seemed to be.
She didn’t envy Father Brian for having to listen to whole sordid story the next morning. She felt a pang of sympathy for clergy, who heard far more than would be good for anyone’s peace of mind, and who were always expected to have the right answer at the ready.
The smiling young waitress interrupted Margaret’s ruminations by bringing her meal, beautifully presented on a large, square, white plate. It was as tasty as the swimming pool lady had promised. Margaret glanced around the dining room. It was early and, except for a quiet family and an elderly couple, she had the place to herself.
There was no point in rushing through her meal. Neither Louise, nor Roger and Eina, would likely be back before nine, and Margaret didn’t care to be alone in the house after the evening’s mysterious phone calls. Maybe they had been a simple prank but, after the strange events of the past week, including the unpleasant note left in Eina’s mailbox, Margaret’s nerves were a little unsettled.
As the effect of the wine began to help her to relax, she allowed her thoughts to drift toward Jimmy and Tom. Both were attractive in their own way. Since losing Neil, she hadn’t met anyone that had interested her. Admittedly, the pickings in Jackpine were pretty slim, but perhaps she hadn’t been ready for any kind of emotional involvement. Now, suddenly there were two appealing men, both apparently eligible. What were the odds?
The restaurant was slowly beginning to fill up with Friday night diners. She lingered over her coffee but, as more people came in, the waitress kept returning to ask if she needed a refill, Margaret finally took the hint and surrendered her table. Still, in no rush to get back to the house, she took the elevator to the lower level of the hotel, deciding to take a stroll through the concourse, in hopes that one of the stores might still be open. She was in luck. The glass door to Amy’s Boutique was propped open invitingly. A middle-aged woman in a smart black pantsuit smiled at her from behind the counter.
“Yes, we’re open,” she said. “As of this weekend browsing is free.”
Margaret entered, admiring the pretty displays of hand-stitched bags, novelty jewellery, as well as a variety of gift items.
“I’m still unpacking,” the woman said. “There will be a lot more on the shelves tomorrow.”
“Are you Amy?” Margaret asked.
“Yes.” The woman beam
ed. “This has always been my dream—to open a gift shop. This location is ideal and came along at the perfect time.”
“Congratulations. You have a great selection here.”
“Thank you. I hope the tourists agree.”
Amy was congenial and eager to chat, so Margaret spent a pleasant half-hour perusing the merchandise, listening to Amy’s explanation of the origins of the various items on the shelves.
“When do the other stores open?” Margaret asked her.
“Bradley’s Menswear opens on Tuesday. The Empress will open up in a week and a half.”
Margaret selected some rice paper napkins and a beautiful silk table runner as a hostess gift for Eina. Amy wrapped them artistically before ringing them up and handed Margaret her business card with her purchase.
“Oh, I just thought of something,” Margaret said, looking at the card. “My friend and I are in town from Jackpine, but we’re heading back this weekend. I’m a watercolour artist, and my friend is a photographer. Would you be interested in possibility displaying some of our work in your store on consignment?”
If she hadn’t been encouraged by Amy’s earlier friendliness, Margaret wouldn’t have been bold enough to ask, but she thought that maybe a newly-opened shop would be open to the possibility.
“Why don’t you bring in some samples the next time you and your friend are in town,” Amy suggested. “I don’t have a lot of shelf space, but we could try a few items and see.”
“We’ll do that!” Margaret said happily. With her purchases in hand, she waved goodbye and began heading back, cheered by the serendipitous encounter. By now, the centennial celebration would be winding down at the church, and she would probably arrive at the house at around the same time as everyone else.
The sky was paling, but kids still were out enjoying the skateboard park on the Marina. Margaret suddenly became aware of her tired muscles after the day’s exertion. It would be a relief to sit in the car on the drive back to Jackpine tomorrow. It would be a relief in more ways than one. Unfortunately, Eina had made that appointment for them with Father Brian, but once they had finished with that, Margaret wanted to hit the road. She was more than ready to get home.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Father Brian listened to their story with courteous professionalism. His appeared concerned, but he gave no indication of what else he might be thinking or feeling. Margaret studied his face closely as she described Mary’s behaviour and the subsequent note they had found in Eina’s mailbox.
“That must have been very disturbing for you,” he said.
“Well, it did give us a nasty feeling,” Louise agreed.
He nodded, then leaned back slightly in his chair.
“It’s a troubling coincidence,” he said, “but can you be sure that the note had anything to do with Mary?”
“We can’t be sure of anything,” Margaret said quickly. “We’re not here to make any accusations. Eina just felt that you should be aware of what happened. We’re heading back to Jackpine anyway. Once we’re gone all of this should just blow over.”
“I’m sure this weekend has been very distressing for Mary,” Father Brian said, as he fiddled with the pen on his desk. “I appreciate that you’re sensitive to her feelings on this matter.”
“Of course,” Margaret said. She had the feeling that he wasn’t as detached as his words would indicate, but was trying to do the right thing for his employee.
“In any case, you were quite right to come and tell me,” he said, “if only for Mary’s sake. Now that I know what happened between her and Thomas, I’ll be able to chat with her. I’m sure I don’t need to ask you all to keep this confidential. Mary doesn’t need any more humiliation.”
He glanced at Eina, who reddened.
“Of course I would never breathe a word of this to anyone,” she said.
“Good,” he said, with emphasis.
After some pleasantries and goodbyes, they all shook hands, and the three women left his office. As he saw them to the door, Margaret could sense the heaviness resting on him.
“Poor man,” she said to the others as they climbed into Eina’s car, “What’s he supposed to do with that? I feel bad for dumping it all on his lap.”
“It was the right thing to do,” Eina said. “Besides, maybe he’ll be able to help Mary. She needs to talk to someone she trusts. Father Brian is probably the only person who fits that description.”
Margaret lapsed into silence, pondering the wisdom of Eina’s words. It was painful to bring unpleasant things into the open, but sometimes it needed to happen before things got even worse. Back at the house, as Eina puttered around the kitchen working on lunch, Margaret remembered to ask Louise about her evening with Candice.
“I’m going to miss her,” Louise admitted. She made friends so readily.
“Well, there’s nothing preventing you from staying in touch.” Margaret headed toward the stairs leading down to her guest room, but stalled at the top. She knew she should be packing her suitcase. She knew she shouldn’t start any more conversations with Louise about Doug Whalen’s murder.
“Did the two of you discuss what happened at the concert in the park?” she asked, mentally kicking herself for her weak willpower.
“Of course,” Louise said. “She was really concerned for Charlisse. She was worried Charlisse would get herself in trouble talking like that in public.”
“I was surprised that Charlisse would be out dancing with Peter Greaves after what she said about his relationship with the casino manager,” Margaret commented. “It could look as though the two of them were in collusion.”
“Well, according to Candice, Charlisse has never been known for her discretion. I guess after that incident at the park, Candice had a talk with her and advised her to keep her head down and not draw attention to herself. Whether Charlisse will listen or not is another matter.”
“On the other hand, maybe one or both of them did have something to do with the murder,” Margaret mused.
Louise gave her an amused look. “I thought you wanted nothing more to do with this,” she said.
“I don’t!” Margaret insisted as she headed down the stairs to her room.
But, as she folded clothes and arranged them in her suitcase, trying not to think about events and murder suspects, she knew that something was still bothering her. There was something she had overlooked. It was as frustrating as feeling as when she would search her house for misplaced car keys, only to find them later in her pocket.
Her pocket. She had slipped on her old cardigan for travelling, and now she absently stuck her hands in the pockets. Her fingers touched something, and she drew out a piece of twisted copper. She looked at it, realizing that the design was a perfect match for the bracelet she had bought for her daughter. The piece was tiny, and had probably come loose from an earring.
Suddenly she knew what had been bothering her.
“Eina!” she yelled, running up the stairs at an impressive speed for a woman of a certain age, “Eina, forget about lunch. I have to call Jimmy!”
Jimmy was surprised to hear from her, but agreed to meet for lunch. He listened as she explained about the conversation she had overheard at the Global Village, and her chat with Amy the evening before. She showed him the bracelet and the matching piece of copper she had found in the church’s garden, and described the short, jean-clad woman she had spotted there the night she and Louise had arrived in town. Only now did she recognize the woman as Connie Whalen. She recounted to him how she had overheard Mrs. Whalen saying to Connie after the funeral, “It’s out of my hands.”
He didn’t dismiss any of it, but merely said, “Are you sure about all this?”
“I wish I wasn’t,” she said. “But the girl at the Global Village said that the bracelet was from a one-of-a-kind set, and that the owner had purchased the earrings. Then Amy said that the owner of the Empress Café was an elegant older woman. That’s not Connie Whalen. I should have p
ut it all together sooner. The Empress Café, even by its description, is nothing like the Global Village. But the scuttlebutt was that Connie had sunk a lot of money into her brother’s business with the understanding that he was going to give her space at his hotel. Clearly, that wasn’t happening. So she had basically given up her own successful coffee shop to invest all her money to help her brother, only to have him double-cross her in the end. She must have lost her earring in the garden on Friday night as she went to confront her brother.”
“I think you’d better cancel your plans to head home today,” Jimmy said. “You’ll need to make a statement to the police and stick around in case they have any further questions. You’ll also probably have to surrender the bracelet and earring as evidence.”
“You’ll come with me, I hope?” Margaret asked anxiously.
“Count on it.” He smiled at her in a way that she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“It will be so good to be home again,” said Louise on Tuesday afternoon as they drove east on Highway 17.
“Amen to that.” Margaret was in such good humour that she scratched behind Vince’s ears as he leaned against her.
“I still feel badly for Connie. I can’t understand it. It just doesn’t seem possible that she could have been guilty of murder.”
“Manslaughter, not murder,” Margaret corrected her. “It wasn’t premeditated. Jimmy told me that when the police picked her up for questioning, she told them that she just lost it when Doug told her he had given her space to the Empress Tea Room. She was so beside herself she just grabbed the serenity rock and hurled it at him as he was walking away. Jimmy believes the courts will take her state of mind into consideration and be lenient with her.”
“I hope so. After the way he treated her—after the way he treated everybody in his life—I could bash his head in myself,” Louise said venomously.
“Louise!”
The Serenity Stone Murder Page 16