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This Old Murder

Page 4

by Valerie Wolzien


  Josie was happy with the progress so far and got to work building a reinforced frame around the sculpture. It took her almost an hour and she was less impressed with the aesthetic virtues of the piece when she was done than she’d been when she started. In fact, her cover looked better than the sculpture, she decided, standing up and stretching her tendons. But it was finished.

  “Anyone know where there’s a large piece of plywood we can write on?” she asked, looking around. “And a can of paint or something.”

  Annette came running with both. Josie painted FRAGILE!! on the wood and hammered the sign across the front of the frame.

  “What do you think the Courtney Castle people will think about that?” Jill, her arms full of debris, stopped on her way out the door to ask.

  “God knows. But I do know that we won’t get anything accomplished if we worry about their opinion every step of the way. Let me help you all.” She grabbed a slab of Sheetrock that was falling from the wheelbarrow Dottie was pushing and joined her crew in the dirty, exhausting work of demolition.

  Two hours later they were sitting on the front deck, exhausted, huge hoagies dripping greasy strings of lettuce and tomato onto their filthy laps when a silver Porsche roared up to the curb and an Armani-clad young woman jumped out of the driver’s seat. The polite smile slowly faded from her face as she surveyed the scene.

  “That’s her! That’s Courtney!” Annette announced.

  “How can you tell in that getup?” A lavish Hermès scarf swaddled Courtney’s head and massive black sunglasses covered much of her face. Josie stood, unaware that a slab of bologna was sticking to the front of her overalls. She smiled despite her aching back and mounting apprehension and started down the steps to the sidewalk.

  “This isn’t going to stay here for long, is it?” Courtney asked, not bothering to introduce herself and staring at the overflowing Dumpster as though she’d never seen one before.

  “It’s due to be taken away in six days,” Josie answered. “I’m Josie Pigeon.” She offered a dirty hand.

  It was ignored. “Courtney Castle. This really won’t do. Our show teaches people how to do things right. We don’t accept sloppy work.”

  “Ms. Castle, I’m so happy you’re finally here. I’m Cheryl. My husband and I live next door. We’re the neighbors to this project. Anyway, I couldn’t help but hear what you said and I couldn’t agree with you more! My husband and I have never seen anything like this. Disgraceful and very unprofessional.” A huge woman, showing off her dimpled thighs and arms in a bright pink playsuit, stomped across the lawn next door. “Certainly not up to the standards of Courtney Castle’s Castles.”

  Josie didn’t bother to introduce herself to the woman or defend her crew’s work. Instead she examined Courtney Castle’s profile with a shocked expression on her face. “You know-” she began, but Annette Long interrupted.

  “Oh, Ms. Castle, I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you. We’re all just thrilled that you’re going to put Island Contracting on the air.”

  “Yes, we haven’t been able to talk about anything else,” Jill added.

  “Well, some of us are more thrilled than others.” Dottie had joined them.

  “And we were going to clean up the front lawn right after lunch. Right, Josie?” Annette lied.

  “Yes. I…” Josie was still staring.

  “I think Josie and I should do a walk-through of the site,” Courtney announced. “Right, Josie?”

  “I… You… Yes, that would be a good idea. You all finish eating. This won’t take long.”

  “Let’s start out back. The blues are there and we can compare the finished product with what’s here as we go.”

  “Great.”

  The two women, one chic and clean, one dirty and dowdy, entered through the open front door.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Annette bubbled.

  But Dottie and Jill had gone back to their lunches.

  FIVE

  IT WAS ALMOST six o’clock, well after the official start of the island’s cocktail hour, so Josie wasn’t too surprised to find a parking place right in front of Sam’s store. Most of his customers would already be home, immersed in their first or second gin and tonic of the day. They were, after all, on vacation. But Josie wasn’t. Furthermore, she was upset and in a hurry.

  Which probably explained why she smashed right into a display of Beaujolais, knocking six bottles to the floor.

  “Oh, damn!”

  “They made it all the way here from France without a break, Josie. You could at least let me sell them to thirsty customers.”

  Josie was fumbling with her overalls. “It was my hammer. I thought I’d left this in the truck,” she muttered, pulling it from her back pocket.

  Sam had finished replacing the bottles on the shelves. “No harm done. So, are you here to see me, or am I a convenient stop on the way to the video store?”

  “Have you seen Tyler today?”

  “I just happened to return the tape we rented while he was at work, yes.”

  “And?”

  “And he was having a ball. I was in the store less than five minutes, and during that time, he explained a new system of shelving foreign movies to the owner, told a woman he was sure her preschool son would get a lot out of A Clockwork Orange-his words, not mine-and flirted with one of the cutest girls I’ve seen on the island in a long while. He was having a ball,” Sam repeated. “And don’t worry. The little boy is going to be watching One Hundred and One Dalmatians tonight despite Tyler ’s helpful advice.”

  “Do you think he’ll get fired?” Josie asked, suddenly discovering something new to worry about.

  “No way. Everyone in the place was getting a huge kick out of his enthusiasm and energy. You know Tyler. Besides, the store doesn’t carry anything X-rated. Anyone who wants to get something like that will have to go a few blocks away to Island Video.”

  “But won’t the owner be upset if Tyler recommends tapes he doesn’t carry?”

  “Both stores are owned by the same person. Doesn’t make a bit of difference to him which place people choose to rent from.”

  “Oh, so you think Tyler is doing a good job.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you think I could possibly just stop in and-”

  “I think-and you know-you should leave him alone.”

  “You’re right. I just needed something to do. It’s been a strange day.”

  “Courtney Castle’s Castles couldn’t already be causing problems.” Sam opened a bag of gourmet potato chips and passed them to her as he spoke.

  “Sort of,” she admitted through the crunching. “You know, last night when we were watching the show, I thought Courtney looked familiar. But today when she was at the house-”

  “Courtney Castle is already on the island? She’s getting to work early, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t think… That’s not the point. Sam, there’s something strange about… Courtney. You see-”

  “Did I hear Miss Josie Pigeon saying something about Courtney Castle? Did you hear anything about that, son?”

  “Well, Chief, I guess I did.”

  Sam and Josie exchanged looks and turned to greet Chief Rodney and his son, the official (and during the winter months the only) police presence on the island.

  “I was just telling Sam that I met Courtney Castle this afternoon,” Josie explained.

  “Yeah, so we heard.” Mike Rodney managed to make the simple statement sound menacing.

  “Can I help you?” Sam asked politely.

  Chief Rodney got right to the point. “Sure hope so. We’re looking for donations for the Annual Police Association Auction, Sam. We thought a bottle of one of your imported bubblies could fetch a pretty price.”

  “Always ready to help out the local organizations, you know that,” Sam said agreeably.

  “What Annual Police Association Auction?” Josie asked.

  “I’ve never heard of an annual police associ
ation auction. I didn’t even know there was a police association on the island. What is it?”

  “Most municipalities have a police association. Among other things, they raise money to help the officers in times of crisis, to do things like help the widows of officers killed in action,” Mike Rodney explained.

  “You mean this money is to go to your mother if the chief dies on the job,” Sam said.

  “Not just Mom-”

  “I have no intention of dying either on or off the job, and that’s just one of the uses for any funds we may raise. There’s also equipment available that would help us do our jobs more efficiently that cannot, for one reason or another, come out of the town budget.”

  “Is the donation tax deductible?” Sam asked.

  “It will be. The papers were filed as soon as we heard that Courtney Castle was coming to the island.”

  “What does Courtney Castle have to do with… this police association auction?” Josie asked quickly.

  “She’s going to be our auctioneer,” Mike bragged. “It was Dad’s idea.”

  “We thought it would be wise to take advantage of having a famous celebrity in our midst.”

  “You asked her to do this already?” Sam asked.

  “You called her?” Josie asked at the same time.

  “In point of fact, she called us. Or, to be more specific, her producer called. She needs police protection, you see.”

  “Police protection?” Sam repeated the words.

  “She’s a famous person. Sometimes famous people attract oddballs,” Mike said.

  “I don’t think this is anyone’s business, Mike,” his father warned.

  Josie realized that Mike was explaining more than his father wanted him to. “You mean Bobby Valentine called you?” she asked.

  “Sure did.”

  “To ask for police protection for Courtney Castle.”

  “To watch out for things while the show is in town,” his father explained. “Crowd control.”

  “Crowd control? What crowds?”

  “According to this Bobby Valentine, there’s always a crowd around wherever the show is taped.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I gather you didn’t know anything about this,” Sam said.

  “No one mentioned it to me,” Josie admitted. “But I don’t see why it should be much of a problem.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Sam said. “A bunch of spectators could disrupt deliveries if they’re kept in the street, to say nothing of what might happen if they’re allowed to wander around on the property. It sounds to me like a police line of some sort is an excellent idea.”

  “Does this mean you’re planning on hanging that yellow police tape around my work site?”

  “No, that’s just the point,” Mike said proudly. “Courtney Castle doesn’t want anyone to see a police line. We’re going to prevent curious people from getting anywhere near your work. The entire block will be cordoned off.”

  Josie could just imagine what Cheryl’s husband would have to say about that. “What about the neighbors? The other people who live on the street?”

  “Right now we’re working on having passes printed up,” Mike explained.

  “But…” Josie began.

  “How large an area is going to be cordoned off?” Sam asked. “Surely the whole block is a bit excessive.”

  “We will do whatever Miss Courtney Castle asks,” the chief of police answered.

  Josie took another step backward. A fatal one for the Beaujolais, as it turned out. Glass and wine flew in all directions, drenching Josie’s overalls as well as Sam’s chinos and loafers. The ensuing cleanup didn’t interest the Rodneys, and claiming urgent police business, they stepped over the mess and left. Sam called to an employee to bring a mop and he led Josie to his small office in the rear of the store. He seated her in his desk chair and grabbed a wineglass from a nearby shelf. “Red or white?”

  “I’ll stick with red,” she answered, glancing down at her stained clothing.

  Sam waited until she’d had time to taste the wine before he asked his first question. “Why do you object to this police line? Even if it’s a bit excessive, it probably won’t be a problem for you.”

  “Ha! Everything about Courtney and her show will be a problem for me!”

  “How can you possibly know that? You’ve just met!”

  “She doesn’t make a good first impression,” Josie answered after a short pause.

  “Meaning?”

  “Sam, you should have been there. She drove up in this hot car-a silver Porsche, for heaven’s sake.”

  “Wow. I wonder if PBS pays for that.”

  Josie couldn’t believe it; he sounded envious. “You know, Sam-”

  “It doesn’t matter. Go on. What did she do when she drove up?”

  “She… she started to complain about everything immediately. She didn’t like where the Dumpster was located or how we filled it. Ask Jill or Annette or Dottie. They all heard her complaining.”

  “I don’t doubt you, Josie, but so what?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that she bugs me. I’m really beginning to regret agreeing to be on television.”

  Sam picked up his full glass, then put it down without drinking. “I think I’ll keep my head clear.”

  Josie didn’t have any such compunction. She drained her glass and stared at the desk before her.

  “We could go out to dinner,” Sam suggested. “Sounds like you need a break. And tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

  Josie frowned.

  Sam knew what she was thinking. “How about if we just get a beer and a pizza at that new restaurant down on the boardwalk. You’ll be home long before Tyler arrives.”

  “I hear that place is usually crowded.”

  Sam shrugged. “Let’s give it a try anyway. We can take your truck.”

  “It’s filthy,” Josie warned him.

  “So are we,” Sam said, glancing at their wine-stained clothing. “So are we.”

  But the popularity of the new pizza place had apparently been exaggerated. They were almost the only customers in the gleaming white-tiled room. Sam looked around as he pulled Josie’s chair out for her. “Guess we won’t have to wait long for our food.”

  Josie looked over his shoulder, recognizing a member of Tyler ’s old Cub Scout troop. “Luke! Look at you! You look so grown up!” She knew she sounded stupid.

  Apparently the teenager was used to the clichés of adults. “Hi, Ms. Pigeon. I saw Tyler at the video store this morning. Cool job.”

  “This looks like a pretty good place to work, too.”

  Another couple walked in the door.

  “Hey, we make the best pizza on the island. We’ve been jammed every day since we opened. Course it looks like everything’s changed now. Maybe you could do something about that,” he added, handing Josie a menu.

  “Me? What do I have to do with it?”

  “You’re what brought that carpenter lady to the island, aren’t you?”

  “What carpenter?”

  “You’re talking about Courtney Castle, aren’t you?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah. She’s over at Basil’s new place tonight.”

  “So?”

  “So that’s where all our customers have gone.”

  “They followed Courtney Castle to dinner?” Josie asked, amazed. She herself was thrilled to be away from Courtney for the evening.

  “Damn right. There’s a line around the block over there. The line that should be going out that door,” Luke added, nodding to the pizza parlor’s entrance.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about this being permanent. Courtney is new to the island. After a few weeks, people will become accustomed to seeing her around and maybe they won’t be quite so starstruck,” Sam said.

  “I sure hope so, Mr. Richardson. This is a great job. I get all the leftover pizza I want at the end of each day. And the tips are good, too. If they go out of busine
ss, I’m dead meat.”

  Josie had been looking around the large room. “Did you mention any of this to the couple sitting at that table by the window?”

  Luke followed her glance. “No. What do they have to do with it?”

  “Well, the pretty young woman is one of my carpenters. But the young guy is a summer intern on Courtney’s show. Maybe if he likes the food, he could mention it to Courtney and she might start coming here.”

  “Hey, cool. Do you think maybe I should give him a menu and he could take it to her, and then she’d try the pizza and like it and start coming here?” Luke asked.

  “It’s possible.”

  “Hey, I’d better make sure they get good service. And they could order out. I’ll tell them we deliver.”

  “You have takeout service?” Sam asked as Luke turned to rush off.

  “Well, not for just anybody, Mr. Richardson. But for Courtney Castle… well, that’s different.”

  “Things are different for Courtney Castle?” Josie mused, a frown creasing her face.

  “I think, Josie, you’d better get used to it.”

  SIX

  IT WAS SUMMER. People who had struggled to earn enough money to buy summer houses at the beach were enjoying those homes. Rental agencies had NOTHING AVAILABLE THIS SEASON signs posted in their windows. Daytrippers from inland lugged tons of paraphernalia to and from the sandy beach, many of them with children in tow. The island had only two main roads that carried most of the vehicles traveling north or south. But a traffic jam at seven-thirty in the morning? Josie was glad she had a mug of coffee propped between her toolbox and a new sweatshirt on the seat by her side. She had gotten up early and left her apartment quickly, pausing only to greet her very sleepy son. She thought there wasn’t a chance she’d be late the first day of taping. But now… The car behind her was honking and she threw an angry glance over her shoulder. Probably some damn tourist rushing to his rented house with a bag of warm doughnuts from the bakery.

 

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