Evil Turns

by Jane Tesh

  “Yes, that’s it.” She glared at the policeman. “How does any of that make me a suspect? It makes me sound jealous, and that’s what I am. I’m not a killer, or some criminal mastermind.”

  The policeman looked as if he couldn’t wait to finish here. “I’m interviewing everyone who was at tryouts, ma’am.”

  “Amanda singled me out, didn’t she? She sees me as a threat. She knows I’m a better actress.”

  “Tell me where you were Friday night, ma’am, from nine until ten.”

  “After tryouts, I came home.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  “No, I was by myself the rest of the evening.”

  The policeman wrote this down. I knew he was thinking, you had time to sneak out, kill Harold, and get back to your house before Amanda came by, because I was thinking the same thing. He asked a few more routine questions and then thanked her for her time. Jerry and I moved to the living room so he could get by. It was also small and pink, pink walls, pink flowered sofa and chairs, and pink ruffled curtains. Joanie’s collections of cups and saucers, spoons, decorative plates, and knickknacks crowded every possible surface. White ceramic rabbits sat on the window ledges and peeked out from behind baskets of paperback books. With the overabundance of pink and flowers, I felt as if I were inside one of those decorative Easter eggs.

  Joanie followed us, furious. “Talk about a setup! Amanda set me up for this! I’m going to give her a very large piece of my mind.”

  Not a good idea. “That’s the last thing you should do. Get into a shouting match with Amanda, and you’ll definitely be a suspect. Is there anyone who can prove you were here all Friday night? Did anyone call or stop by?”

  “No, and if they had, I wouldn’t have let them in. I was so annoyed at being cut off during my audition, I didn’t want to talk to anybody.”

  I tried another angle. “How well do you know Tammy Price?”

  “There’s an excellent suspect for you. She hates Amanda for stealing her husband.”

  “She got him back, though.”

  “She still could be angry. I never met her.”

  Joanie was so angry she didn’t offer us a seat, which was a good thing. I was afraid if I sat down, I’d be swallowed by ruffles and never get out. “What about Megan Underwood?”

  “Exactly what I told you before. I don’t understand her, at all. Why would she want to be in a play? You have to be completely dedicated to commit to a show. She won’t do that.” Joanie held out her hand to Jerry. “You can see I didn’t kill Harold, can’t you? Take a good look and tell me I murdered him.”

  Jerry obligingly checked out her palm. “No matter what I see, I’m afraid palm-reading doesn’t hold up in court, Ms. Raines.”

  She balled her hand into a fist. “All this makes me so angry! Now there might not be an outdoor drama, at all! You’ve got to solve this, Madeline. I’m not missing my big chance. I want to hire you.”

  “Amanda’s already hired me,” I said, “and I believe she’s innocent.”

  Joanie put her hands on her hips and declared in her best theater voice, “Well, I’m innocent, too.”

  ***

  Jerry and I managed to wedge out of Joanie’s house. He sidestepped a large ceramic duck holding a flower basket. “So Joanie’s innocent? And Nathan? And Megan? Everybody’s innocent. Looks like Harold hit himself over the head.”

  “I say we ride by Harold’s house and try to get a look inside.”

  Jerry brightened. “No try to it. I’ll get you in.”

  ***

  Harold’s house was in an older neighborhood, built in a Thirties style. The house was surrounded by yellow police tape, but we didn’t see a guard or a police car on the street. I drove to the end of the street and let Jerry out. He disappeared behind a tall hedge that bordered several homes. I parked the car and strolled down to Harold’s as if I were out for a late afternoon walk. We’d timed our caper well. On a mild Saturday night like this, usually there’d be at least one or two people sitting on their front porches, but it was suppertime, so the neighbors were inside their homes. After another quick look to make certain no one was watching, I slipped around Harold’s house to the back door where Jerry waited to let me in.

  Harold had lived alone and very simply. Except for a massive grandfather clock ticking quietly, the rooms were sparsely furnished—a dark leather sofa and chair in the living room, a heavy-looking dark wood table and thick wooden chairs in the dining room—and except for the bloodstains in the hallway, very clean. Newspapers and copies of Dog Fancy were stacked by the sofa, along with a pair of Harold’s shoes, large books about African elephants and famous battles of World War II, and a book of crossword puzzles. Open on the chair was a book about Siamese cats. Above the fireplace was a painting of three graceful Irish setters.

  When I took a closer look at the painting, I saw a small black box on the mantel. The label said “Dusty” in gold letters. His dog’s ashes. Tears stung my eyes. I recalled Harold’s beaming face as he told me about his many charities supporting the preservation of pandas and fish and falcons. Did this overwhelming desire to help all animals ease the sadness of his loss?

  Jerry pattered down the stairs. “Nothing in the bedroom but clothes and natural history books. I never would’ve guessed Harold was so interested in animals.”

  No, there wasn’t any way to know what really went on inside a person until he was dead and strangers were snooping in his house. I’d been anxious to find clues in Harold’s house, but now I felt as if I’d invaded a sacred space.

  We walked down the hallway to the back door and looked out across Harold’s backyard, a plain square of grass with large oak trees. Leaves and branches lay scattered on the lawn.

  “Chief Brenner told Nathan the murder weapon was a piece of wood similar to a baseball bat. The murderer could’ve had a spur of the moment decision and used one of those branches. Then he or she could’ve tossed the branch back into the yard with dozens of others, and off they go, although, more than likely, they took the branch with them and burned it.”

  “Or chopped it up for toothpicks,” Jerry said.

  “Do any of these branches look strong enough to kill?”

  “I suppose if you swung it hard enough, and the victim fell and hit his head.”

  “I can’t see Amanda picking up a large dirty piece of wood under any circumstances.”

  “But we both know Amanda wouldn’t leave an expensive handbag behind.”

  I’d seen all I needed to see, so Jerry and I left the house by the back door and made our way back to my car. I was becoming more convinced that Amanda had been set up.

  ***

  At home, Nell left a note on the door.

  “Baby owls found in chimney. Moved them out.”

  “Too bad we didn’t get to see them.” Jerry hung the dream catcher Megan had given us in our bedroom window. “Maybe it’s a clue catcher. Maybe it’ll tell you who done it.”

  I called the shower first, and afterwards, gave my reflection a good long inspection, particularly the side view. So far, no sign of a baby. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or disappointed. Not for the first time I wondered what my life might have been if Mother hadn’t had pageant fever. Would we have forged a strong mother-daughter bond, or drifted even further apart? Now that I’d had success as an investigator, our relationship was improving, but it had a long way to go. Would a baby solve that problem? If anything, raising a child, especially a little girl, might become a real battlefield if Mother decided her granddaughter had to be Little Miss Perfect.

  Jerry peeked in. “All done? What are you doing, admiring yourself? Because that’s what I’m doing.”

  I put on my robe. “Checking for babies.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “That’s okay. When the time is rig
ht, Hortensia will make her presence known.”

  Jerry sang in the shower, first, his medley of tunes for Flower of the South, and then a rousing rendition of the Celosia National Anthem. When he hopped into bed with me, I commented again on his ability as a songwriter.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m still curious about Megan Underwood, though. How did she get over to that side of the lake? Nathan’s new rowboats and canoes have been stored until now, and all of them have been on the camp side.”

  “Good question.”

  “And if Denisha and her aunt see Megan at the farmers’ market, how does Megan get to town and bring soap and candles? Camp Lakenwood is ten miles away.”

  “Good question number two.”

  “And how did Megan hear about the auditions and again get to town and back to her teepee? I didn’t see a broomstick, just that sad-looking dragon walking stick with one eyeball and broken teeth.”

  “Are you sure about that? I think it had both eyes at the theater.”

  “One eyeball.”

  “And broken teeth. Do you suppose that cane is the murder weapon?”

  “She was in town Friday night for auditions.”

  I considered this possibility for a few moments. “Okay, I’ll put you on Megan patrol. If you think she’s a con woman, then ask Del if he’s heard of her.”

  We kissed, and I turned out the light. A few minutes later, Jerry was asleep, but I lay awake for a long time. Outside, I could hear a soft hooting sound and hoped it was the little owls, safely back in their tree. My tired thoughts circled around to the Darkrose Coven and what sort of rituals they performed and what sort of secrets they were still hiding after all these years. Annie knew something, I knew she did. If only she would confide in me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunday morning I had a call from Tammy Price, Roger’s first and current wife, who said she’d be more than glad to talk about Amanda. She agreed to meet me at Baxter’s Barbecue in Parkland at noon. This was very convenient, because I wanted to talk to Olivia Decker about Kathleen Wallace’s photos and check in with Renee Hedley to see if she’d found out anything useful from the Parkland chapter of Darkrose Coven.

  “I have short dark curly hair, and I’ll be with a fellow wearing a garish tie,” I told her.

  Baxter’s, our favorite place to eat, was a plain little brick building you might easily overlook if it weren’t for the tempting smells of barbecue and fries. The melt-in-your mouth barbecue has just the right amount of spices. The fries are always crispy, and the tea is fresh and sweet. We chose a table near the front so Jerry’s yellow tie with pink doughnuts couldn’t be missed. The table with its cheerful red-and-white checked plastic tablecloth and the rickety wooden chairs rocked unevenly as we ate our lunch.

  Jerry passed me another napkin to catch the delicious juice from my sandwich. “I could live here. Why don’t we sell the house and move into Baxter’s? Maybe they’d like a short-order breakfast cook.”

  I checked my watch. Twelve thirty-five. “Wonder what’s keeping her? She sounded eager to trash Amanda.”

  “Didn’t you say you talked to her daughter? There might have been a crisis.”

  “Could be. At least I have honored my promise, and we are finally in Parkland.”

  A few minutes later, a slim dark-haired woman came in, scanned the lunch crowd, and came toward us.

  “You must be Madeline. Hello, I’m Tammy Price.”

  Tammy Price was a slight, ordinary-looking woman with brown hair and brown eyes. She wore jeans and a white shirt, several gold chains, and a very large diamond ring. Jerry stood and pulled out a chair for her. She thanked him.

  “This is my husband, Jerry,” I said. “Thanks for meeting us.”

  She hung her handbag on the back of the chair. “Sorry I’m late. Roger didn’t want me to come. He thinks it’ll stir up trouble.”

  “Well, Amanda couldn’t be in more trouble. She’s a suspect in a murder case.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

  The waitress came and took her order. When she’d gone, I asked Tammy if she wouldn’t mind explaining what had happened with Amanda and Roger. She didn’t mind at all.

  “Amanda knew Roger was the richest man in town, so she went after him. It didn’t matter one bit that he was married to me. She made a huge play for him, and he fell for it. Then once he got in, he saw what sort of money-grubbing woman she was, and he divorced her.”

  “Excuse me for asking an indelicate question, but why did you take him back?”

  “Because I knew it was all her fault. She tricked him into marrying her. She told him all kinds of lies about me. He wasn’t himself. He called me soon after they married and told me he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, and as soon as he could get a divorce, he was coming back to me, if I’d forgive him. Well, of course, I did. I still loved him.” Her cell phone jangled. “Please excuse me. I promised my daughter she could call me. I’ll be right back.”

  She left the table and went outside. As she listened to her daughter, her lips thinned and she rubbed her forehead. “You were right,” I told Jerry. “Teenage crisis.”

  After a short while, Tammy came back and took her seat. “Sorry about that. This whole business has been very hard on my daughter. I forgave Roger, but she has yet to come to terms with what she calls his ‘defection from the family.’ She doesn’t want to have anything to do with him, but she’s thirteen and very dramatic. We’re hoping she’ll come around.”

  “Did she ever meet Amanda?”

  “Oh, no. She only knows there was another woman and that Daddy made a big mistake, for which he is definitely paying. He’s going to have to work a long time to win back her trust.”

  The waitress brought Tammy’s barbecue sandwich and fries and refilled our tea glasses. Tammy ate for a few minutes and then set her sandwich down. “Who is Amanda accused of murdering?”

  “Harold Stover. Did you know him?”

  “Harold Stover. I believe Roger knew him. They did some business together. I don’t know anyone in Celosia. Amanda had Roger build a mansion there for her, which she kept. Roger said it was worth it to get rid of her.”

  “So Roger’s not from Celosia?”

  “He grew up there, but he moved to Parkland several years ago. She came here to steal him. I’ve never seen anyone so determined. I would not put it past Amanda to use any means necessary to get what she wants, even witchcraft.”

  Jerry reached for another fry. “Odd you should mention that. We have lots of witches in Celosia.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’d say the main one is more of a New Age herbs and candles kind of gal.”

  “Then Amanda didn’t learn anything from her. She already knew that stuff.”

  “Herbs and candles? She doesn’t seem the type.”

  “She isn’t. She once told me her parents were hippies and nature freaks who lived in a commune and raised goats.”

  Jerry and I came to attention. “A commune?” I said. “By any chance was it called Peaceful Meadow?”

  “I don’t know what it was called, but I do know Amanda hated that lifestyle. I don’t feel sorry for her, though. We all have things from our childhood to overcome, but that’s no excuse for stealing someone’s husband. What else can I tell you?”

  “Would you mind telling me where you were Friday night from nine until ten?”

  She looked amused. “No, not at all. My daughter and I went to the movies with my best friend and her daughter. The National was having a special showing of all the Pixar short films, and we’re all big fans. I’ll give you her number, if you like.”

  “That would be fine, thanks.” I’d already decided that if she had her husband back, Tammy wouldn’t have a motive.

  ***

  After Tammy left, I called her friend
and the movie theater. The National had indeed held a Pixar short film festival Friday night.

  I ended the call. “Looks as if Tammy’s in the clear. But how about her news? It has to be the same commune. That means Amanda and Megan both lived in Peaceful Meadow.”

  “So Amanda might know about the coven. I’ll bet she was the head witch.”

  I checked the time on my phone. “Too early for the graveyard. I’m going to see if Olivia’s really the mastermind behind Kathleen’s questionable photos.”

  Jerry tossed several bills on the table for the tip. “I’ll sit this one out.”

  “No problem. I didn’t think you wanted to deal with her.”

  “Why don’t you drop me off at Pot Luck Alley?”

  When the waitress stopped by our table to refill our tea glasses, we thanked her and had a fortifying drink before I left Jerry at Del’s pawn shop and drove to Olivia Decker’s place of business.

  ***

  Olivia Decker was a petite blonde with green eyes, the kind of woman Jerry had been attracted to for several years before deciding that a tall brunette was more his style. She worked for the law firm of Provost, Collins and Best. The office was located in downtown Parkland next to the new city park. She wasn’t thrilled to see me, but she’s rarely thrilled about anything.

  “Hello, Madeline. What brings you to the big city?”

  I said the one thing guaranteed to catch her interest. “I need your help.”

  She paused a moment as if considering my request, but she was curious. “Have a seat.”

  Unlike my comfy little office, Olivia’s was a grand room as cold and formal as she was: glass desk with a pencil-slim computer, hard-edged metallic chairs, and a commanding view of the park. She wore a dark suit in a rich burgundy shade and a silk scarf held in place with a brooch sparkling with red and gold. She sat behind her desk, rearranged her skirt, and looked at me expectantly.

  “My client, Kathleen Wallace, is concerned about photographs that have surfaced recently. As her sorority sister, I hoped you could explain.”

  To my surprise, Olivia’s mouth quirked in a little smile. “Oh, really?”