Overkilt

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  Liss mimed zipping her lips and her husband cracked a smile. “That explains how you knew the way to Pilgrim Farm.”

  “And why Gordon Tandy has taken such an interest in me. There wasn’t much I could tell him about yesterday, though. I followed Sherri’s orders and stayed in the workshop all day. I even went so far as to keep my earphones on, whether I was using power equipment or not, so I couldn’t hear the noise from the demonstration.”

  “Great minds,” Liss murmured, thinking of her earbuds.

  “I think Tandy believed me, but who can tell?”

  Before Liss could find the words to reassure him, a powerful outdoor light came on, blinding her until her eyes adjusted. “I guess they know we’re here.”

  She and Dan got out of the truck. Her father waited at the door, a welcoming smile on his face. She managed a small one of her own and kissed his cheek, silently chanting her mantra for the evening: Be the grown-up. Avoid conflict.

  Any hope of getting through the meal in peace disappeared less than fifteen minutes later.

  Along with poultry and vegetables, Violet MacCrimmon served up her opinion of recent events.

  “I’ve been keeping a close eye on what’s been happening in town,” she announced. “It seems to me that the only ones the police suspect are people who would never have resorted to murder.”

  “You don’t know what the detectives are thinking.” Liss took a sip of a very fine white wine, hoping it would make her mother’s opinions go down more smoothly.

  “I know which people Gordon Tandy questioned.”

  “Besides me?” Dan asked.

  “You, of course, Dan. Well, naturally they had to be suspicious of you after what happened out at Pilgrim Farm. And they talked to Joe because this whole smear campaign came about because of him. Stu was on the list after the incident at the demonstration and so was Patsy, because her place was vandalized right along with Liss’s shop and Carrabassett County Wood Crafts. And I assume they talked to that young woman who took over Margaret’s job, Tricia something.”

  “Tricia Lynd,” Dan supplied. “I’m pretty sure she was working at the hotel all day yesterday. For that matter, so was my dad.” He tucked into his salad, spearing a cherry tomato with his fork.

  Vi shook her head. So far she hadn’t touched her food. “Not all day, he wasn’t. I saw him in town. As for this Tricia person, it wouldn’t have taken her long to drive to the town square from The Spruces. It’s easy walking distance, too. And then there’s Margaret.”

  “What about Margaret?” Liss asked.

  Resolutely, she continued eating, shoving another forkful of her mother’s chicken parmesan into her mouth. If she was chewing, she couldn’t argue. Not that she had any argument to voice. She’d seen Joe Ruskin in town, too. As for Tricia, although she’d always found her a pleasant and energetic young woman, Liss didn’t know her very well.

  “Margaret was questioned, too,” Vi said.

  Liss frowned. How had she missed that? Surely Gordon didn’t think that Margaret had killed Spinner to avenge that friend she’d told Liss about? Her aunt might not believe that her friend’s death was an accident, but she wasn’t the sort of person to seek vigilante justice.

  “What connection does Margaret have to Hadley Spinner?” Dan asked.

  “None that we need to worry about,” Liss’s father said. “The cops are just covering all the bases. Eat up, Violet. Your food is getting cold.” He applied himself to finishing his meal.

  “My point,” Vi said, after taking a few bites, “is that since no one has a perfect alibi, Gordon Tandy and the other police officers are going to waste a good deal of time looking at the wrong people.”

  “And I suppose you know who the right people are?” The challenging words came out of Liss’s mouth before she could stop them.

  She tried to throttle back her antagonism, but once again her mother had managed to trigger a response. It was one thing for Liss to have doubts about Gordon, but she didn’t like hearing anyone else criticize him, especially someone who didn’t know him as well as she did.

  “Of course not,” Vi said. “Don’t be so sensitive. Besides, I’m certain you’ll be able to discover who’s guilty.”

  “Me? Oh, no. Don’t bring me into this. I want nothing to do with investigating a murder.”

  “Not even when your own husband is under suspicion?”

  Liss abruptly lost her appetite. She shoved her plate aside, feeling the weight of her mother’s stare as she did so. Its force was not at all diminished by the fact that Vi’s eyes were pale blue and half hidden by her glasses. Over the years, Vi had employed that look many times. Inevitably, it shook Liss’s self-confidence. Her first instinct was to react in exactly the same way she had when she was twelve.

  You’re a grown woman, she reminded herself. Do not let a simple difference of opinion deteriorate into a shouting match.

  Careful to keep her voice level, she said, “I’m staying out of it.”

  “A pity, since you’re so good at solving crimes.”

  This rare maternal compliment took Liss aback. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, but she recovered quickly. “I don’t know where you got that idea. In the past I’ve been wrong as often as I’ve been right, and more than once my mistakes put me and those I care for in danger.”

  “I got that idea from first-hand experience when we were here for your wedding, and from the letters Margaret has written to us over the years, and from the Daily Scoop. It was lovely being able to read all the Moosetookalook news online when we were living in Arizona.”

  “Mother—”

  Vi talked right over her attempt at protest, giving examples, and she did so in the tone of voice guaranteed to set her daughter’s teeth on edge. Liss could never put her finger on just why the sound of it had such a negative effect on her, but there was no denying that it did.

  Do not let her walk all over you, Liss warned herself. Do not let her pressure you into agreeing to do something you shouldn’t, just to get her to stop nagging.

  “Enough!” Liss held up one hand, palm out, to reinforce the command.

  To her surprise, Vi closed her mouth. Liss looked around for Dan and Mac. She’d been so focused on her mother that she hadn’t noticed them leaving the table, or grabbing their jackets, or slipping outside through the sliding glass doors to the deck. Having learned the hard way to keep out of “discussions” between mother and daughter, the two men were leaning against the railing, watching the calm, dark waters of Ledge Lake and being very careful not to glance behind them.

  “Mother, I appreciate that you think I’m clever enough to solve this crime.” Liss was relieved to discover that her voice was level. “But I have been told not to meddle and I intend to obey that order.”

  “Piffle.”

  “What?”

  “It means nonsense.”

  “I know what it means. What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you need to be involved. You aren’t going to be able to stay out of it if they arrest Dan. Don’t you remember what I went through when your father was suspected of murdering someone?”

  Liss sighed. “I remember very well. But no one’s going to arrest Dan.”

  “Margaret, then. Or Joe. And if not one of the family, then Patsy or Stu.”

  “None of them will be arrested because none of them killed Spinner.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  Liss struggled to hold her tongue. Be conciliatory. Do not fight over this.

  “Whether they arrest someone you care about or not,” Vi continued, “the police will waste far too much time investigating people you and I both know would never kill anyone. Think of the tremendous damage that investigation will do to local businesses, not to mention the harm it will cause individual reputations. It only makes sense that the one person who has proven herself adept at discovering the truth in similar situations should conduct her own search for the killer.”

  “I am not
a detective.” She enunciated each word distinctly. “Hire a professional if you’re worried that the wrong person could be arrested.”

  “There is no need to bring in a private investigator when you are so obviously the best person for the job. You’re certain to be successful . . . especially since I’m going to help you.”

  Liss stared at her mother in appalled silence.

  Having said her piece, Vi abruptly stood and, with brisk efficiency, began to clear the table. She bustled about, moving at top speed. Liss grabbed the few remaining dishes and followed her mother into the kitchen. She had every intention of continuing the argument, but the words died on her lips when Vi swayed and had to grab the rim of the sink to steady herself. Her free hand went to the pulse point on her neck.

  Anxiety shafted through Liss as she took Vi’s arm and led her to a chair. If this was an act designed to quell her objections, it was a good one, but somehow she didn’t think her mother was faking.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just a little dizzy spell. Nothing that need concern you.”

  Liss didn’t bother to hide her irritation. “Oh, of course not. Like you having a radical mastectomy a few years ago was none of my business? I’m not buying that argument. What caused the dizziness?”

  “Beta blockers, if you must know.” Vi sounded annoyed.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  In an irritated tone of voice, Vi explained: “I’ve been taking a medication for my blood pressure that turns out to have been a bad choice for someone with a tiny little irregularity in her heart rhythm. It’s nothing to worry about. The doctor I’m seeing here is very good. I’ve stopped taking that medicine and we’re working on finding another that works as well.”

  Liss sent her a skeptical look. “What tiny little irregularity?”

  Vi heaved a sigh. “It’s just one of those odd little quirks some people are born with. I had a stress test two weeks ago, so you don’t have to worry that I’m about to have a heart attack.”

  She had a stress test? Liss felt her frustration ratchet up a notch at this revelation of yet another thing Vi hadn’t bothered to share with her only child.

  “Anyway, what happens is that when I move too fast my heart rate slows way down instead of speeding up the way it would for most people. That makes me woozy, but only for a minute. Literally. The spells don’t last any longer than that. I’m fine now.”

  As if to prove it, she bounced out of the chair, a smile on her face, and began to load the dishwasher.

  * * *

  Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium was closed on Mondays. On this particular Monday, Liss had nothing she needed to do and too much time to think. Her mother’s expectations weighed heavily on her. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to please Vi, she told herself. It was more that, on reflection, she could see the sense in what she’d proposed. As long as the police were focused on Liss’s friends and family members, they weren’t going to look very hard at the people out at Pilgrim Farm.

  She wondered how many of them were mourning Hadley Spinner. She’d had the distinct impression, on her one visit to the place, that some of his followers were not all that fond of him. Then again, could the New Age Pilgrims survive without their leader? Would they want to? For all the police knew, the Pills might be about to scatter to the four winds, never to be heard from again . . . and never to be interviewed about Spinner’s murder.

  “Mother knows best,” she muttered under her breath as she grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.

  Someone needed to check on Spinner’s widow and the rest of what Sherri had called his “merry band.” Since Gordon Tandy appeared to have other priorities, she’d actually be doing him a favor by going out there to ask a few questions.

  She was already in the driver’s seat when common sense caught up with her. Liss sighed. It might not be such a smart idea to visit Pilgrim Farm on her own, especially if one of the Pilgrims was a murderer. Since she had no intention of inviting her mother to go along, and taking Dan with her was out of the question, she got out of the car and walked to the municipal building, circling around to the back door that led from the parking lot into a hallway.

  The Moosetookalook Police Department was the first door she came to. As usual during the day, it was open. She passed through the waiting area with its worn plastic chairs and rapped lightly on the inner door.

  Sherri looked up from her computer terminal, a frown on her face. The expression lightened when she caught sight of Liss. “Paperwork,” she complained. “Even when everything is digital, there never seems to be an end to it.”

  “I’m looking for someone to ride shotgun,” Liss said.

  Sherri’s eyes widened slightly. “Literally?”

  “Maybe. I want to pay a condolence visit to Mrs. Spinner.”

  “Don’t you mean Mistress Spinner?” There was the hint of a smile in her voice.

  “Whatever.”

  “Why?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  “Yes. Especially if you think you need an armed escort.”

  Liss shrugged. “That’s just a precaution. They might not be too thrilled to see me after what happened the last time we were out there.”

  “Then why go?”

  Liss wasn’t about to admit that it was because her mother had told her to investigate. Instead she hemmed and hawed and finally went with guilt. “I feel as if I’m responsible somehow. If he hadn’t been demonstrating against Ruskin businesses, he’d probably still be alive.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” Sherri asked. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “Just humor me, okay? I want to go out there and talk to Spinner’s widow in person and I don’t think it would be smart to go alone.”

  After a short silence, Sherri stood. “You’re snooping, aren’t you? You think one of them did in the head honcho.” She held up a hand, the palm aimed Liss’s way. “Never mind denying it. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.”

  “Remember when we were there before? There was one guy who had a sly look on his face when he twigged to the fact that you wanted to talk to all of them, not just Spinner.”

  “A sly look? Really? That’s all you have to go on?”

  “Don’t get sarcastic with me. That’s a closed society out there, and a strange one to boot. Who knows what jealousies and ambitions have been lurking under the surface. Has Gordon questioned them yet?”

  “How would I know? The state police don’t tell me anything.”

  Liss sent her a sympathetic look, knowing that this was one of the frustrations of being in local law enforcement. When a major crimes unit from the state took over, the first officer on the scene was pushed out of the loop. “It wouldn’t be out of line for you to go out there to see how they’re coping.”

  “That gives me an excuse,” Sherri said. “What’s yours?”

  “Neighborly concern?”

  A derisive snort told Liss what her friend thought of that suggestion.

  “Sherri, Spinner’s dead. They must be in chaos out there.” The unlovely image of a chicken with its head cut off flashed through her mind. Release the body and it took off running, darting this way and that and around in circles until it finally collapsed. That was a scene she’d witnessed more than once when she’d visited a great-uncle’s farm as a child. It had never failed to disturb her.

  The sound of Sherri’s fingers drumming on the desktop brought her back to the present. After a moment, she stood. “We go, but we take the patrol car.”

  “Fine with me.”

  That settled, they set off for Pilgrim Farm. They didn’t talk on the drive. Noting Sherri’s frown, Liss wondered if she was already regretting that she’d agreed to the plan. Liss felt her own doubts increase with every mile that passed. By the time they arrived at their destination, she had begun to second-guess herself. Had it been the height of foolishness to think she could accomplish anything by coming here? Even worse, if there was a ki
ller at the farm, were she and Sherri walking straight into danger?

  It was as quiet in the dooryard as it had been the last time they’d visited. Liss wondered if everyone had left, or if it was just that the residents habitually took cover when strangers showed up.

  Sherri got out of the cruiser, made a megaphone of her hands, and shouted, “Hello, the house. Is anyone at home?”

  A pale, spectacled face appeared in the door into the ell. Mistress Spinner blinked at them, or perhaps at the brightness of the day, and then slowly drifted into the open. She wore a long white apron over her ankle-length skirt, and was twisting her hands in the fabric as she approached.

  “Good morning, Mistress Spinner,” Sherri said. “I just came out to see if there was any way I could be of help to you. I am so sorry for your loss.”

  “Mr. Spinner was a good man,” Mistress Spinner said in pious tones.

  I don’t know about that, Liss thought.

  “We have already prepared a burial site for him.” She directed their attention to a small private cemetery Liss hadn’t noticed on her earlier visit. “Do you know when the body will be released?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.” That was another thing the local chief of police had no say in.

  They walked with the widow to the stone wall that surrounded the graves. There were only a few. One, Liss supposed, belonged to Margaret’s friend, the woman who had drowned in the stock pond.

  “He’ll be laid to rest there,” Mistress Spinner said, pointing.

  The hole had already been dug and a marker put in place. The simple wooden cross had the name Jasper Spinner painted on it.

  Liss frowned. “Jasper? I thought Mr. Spinner’s name was Hadley.”

  Brow furrowing in confusion, Mistress Spinner turned toward her.

  Then an all-too-familiar male voice spoke from behind them. “Are you under the mistaken impression,” Hadley Spinner asked, “that I am the one who was so foully murdered?”

  Chapter Seven

  “Did you know?”

  “Of course I didn’t.” The tires on the police cruiser squealed as Sherri gunned the engine.