Overkilt

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  They’d beat a hasty retreat after Spinner’s appearance, leaving before he could toss them off the property. The car had nearly gone off the road twice since then.

  “I’m the one who identified him. I took one look at the clothes and the beard and I said, ‘That’s Hadley Spinner.’ I mean, I couldn’t think who else it would be. I didn’t even go fishing in his pocket for ID. I just assumed . . . what a rookie mistake! We’re never supposed to assume anything. We’re supposed to look for the facts.”

  “Calm down, Sherri, or I’m going to be the one taking the keys away from you.”

  The vehicle slowed, but the litany of self-recrimination went on. Liss had never seen Sherri so rattled.

  “Will you stop it!” she finally shouted, cutting off a rant in midsentence. “You came to the logical conclusion. How were you supposed to know that Spinner had a cousin who was almost a dead ringer for him?”

  Hadley had told them that much before they left. He’d seemed more amused than angry at their mistake.

  “I saw him,” Sherri said. “Jasper, I mean. We both did the day Dan insisted on going out to the farm. I should have remembered that there was an especially strong resemblance between Hadley and one of his Pilgrims.”

  “But no one wanted to kill Jasper,” Liss reminded her. “No one you knew of, anyway. Anyone with half a brain would look at that dead body, recall how many enemies Hadley has made, and come to the same conclusion.”

  “I wish I could believe that.” Sherri’s voice dropped into its normal register and she had stopped driving like a madwoman. “But cops can’t assume. And after I did, everyone else took my word for it that the dead guy was Hadley Spinner.”

  Frowning, Liss stared through the windshield without seeing any of the passing countryside. Had they? Maybe so, but not for long. Jasper must have had a wallet on him and, at the least, it would have contained his driver’s license. The state police must have discovered Sherri’s mistake soon after they took over at the crime scene. Gordon definitely knew the truth by the time he started questioning suspects the next day.

  “That low-down, sneaky snake in the grass,” she whispered.

  “What?” Startled, Sherri momentarily took her eyes off the road to give Liss a hard stare. “Who?”

  “Gordon Tandy, that’s who. He’s deliberately let everyone go on thinking it was Hadley Spinner who was murdered. That’s deceitful.”

  “Maybe he.... No. You’re right. If not before, the state police would have learned Jasper’s true identity when they went out to Pilgrim Farm to talk to Spinner’s wife.” She shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “That’s smart detective work. You were right when you said that no one wanted Jasper dead. He had to have been killed by mistake, so it makes sense to investigate as if Hadley was the victim.”

  “The killer got the wrong man,” Liss agreed, but her annoyance at Gordon didn’t decrease one iota.

  Why hadn’t he leveled with her? She’d thought they were friends, even if he and Dan weren’t particularly fond of one another. She sighed. She should have been suspicious about Gordon’s behavior right from the get-go. The initial story in the Daily Scoop, their local online daily newspaper, had reported that the victim’s name was being withheld until next-of-kin could be notified. That was hogwash. It would have taken only a few minutes to drive out to Pilgrim Farm and talk to Mistress Spinner. If the victim had been Hadley Spinner, that identification would have been shared with the media as soon as the police broke the bad news. As for Jasper’s next-of-kin, that was probably his wife, and that meant one of the lavender ladies. She’d have been equally easy to find. That the Scoop’s report had never been updated made Liss certain that the police were deliberately hiding the victim’s identity. She wasn’t sure why that made her so angry, but the fact remained that it did.

  “How much trouble will I be in if I tell Dan and the other suspects that Spinner is still alive? They have a right to know the truth.”

  Sherri made the turn that would take them straight to the center of town. “Gordon won’t be happy about it, but it won’t matter much. Everyone will find out soon enough. The thing is, Liss, this won’t change anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If Jasper died because the killer mistook him for Hadley, then the pool of suspects stays the same. The only people who can be eliminated are those who knew both men well enough to tell them apart.”

  “Damn,” Liss muttered under her breath. Sherri was right. All this new development did was clear the Pilgrims and keep police attention focused on the people she knew were innocent—Dan, Joe, Margaret, Patsy, and Stu.

  Sherri pulled into the parking lot behind the municipal building and killed the engine. “I don’t suppose you’ll listen to my advice, but I’ll give it to you anyway. Let the state police handle the investigation.”

  “And if they arrest the wrong person?”

  “Then start raising money for a defense fund.” She got out of the cruiser.

  Liss sat for a moment longer in the passenger seat, her emotions in turmoil. She was angry with Gordon for deceiving her and frightened for Dan because he had no one to back up his alibi. Were any of the others Gordon had questioned in the clear? To Liss’s mind, there was only one way to find out. She needed to talk to each of them, and the sooner the better. She even had a good excuse for doing so—she could share the news that Hadley Spinner was still among the living.

  * * *

  Dan was the first person Liss told about the mix-up in the murder victim’s identity. She found him in his workshop. Since it was Monday, he’d started work on a new custom-made jigsaw-puzzle table. Each one took the best part of a week to complete, with a day every once in a while set aside to mill a supply of table legs. He’d just shut off one of the saws when she opened the door and stepped into a haze of sawdust.

  The smile that greeted her abruptly vanished when she broke the news.

  “Damn shame.”

  “Dan!” She put one hand on his arm. “Be careful the wrong person doesn’t hear you say that.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel. The world would have been a better place without Hadley Spinner in it.”

  She didn’t want to argue. Going up on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek, she turned to leave.

  His eyes narrowed. “Where are you off to now?”

  “The other suspects have a right to know the truth of the situation.”

  “And you don’t think telling them will be labeled meddling by Tandy and his fellow officers?”

  “I do. I just don’t care.”

  Dan opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, he said, “Fine. I’ll call Dad and fill him in.”

  “That’s okay. I need to run out to the hotel anyway.”

  “I knew it. You’re snooping. Please tell me you don’t really believe my father is a murderer.”

  “Of course I don’t, but I would like to ask him what he told Gordon. Maybe he’s already been eliminated as a suspect.”

  Dan shook his head. “He hasn’t. He was in town earlier that day and when he went back to the hotel he holed up in his office. No one can verify that he stayed there.”

  “Was he online? If so, there will be a record of it on his computer.”

  “He said he was working on the payroll.”

  “Then the time he saved his work will prove he was there.”

  “We already thought of that. He didn’t finish till late. The computer stayed on but he could have gone out and come back again.”

  That was not what Liss wanted to hear, but Dan’s information had saved her a trip out to The Spruces. When she left the workshop, she headed for Patsy’s instead.

  * * *

  In contrast to the last time she’d gone to the coffee house to have a private word with Patsy, today the place was packed. Liss hesitated just inside the door, uncertain whether to continue on or retreat. It was only when she spotted Stu in one of the
booths that a light bulb went on over her head. What better way to make certain that neither Patsy nor Stu was a murderer than to watch their reactions when she announced that Spinner was still alive. With a dozen witnesses, every facial nuance, every word they uttered, would be noticed and remarked upon. Even if she missed something, she’d hear about it later.

  She surveyed the other customers, all locals, hesitating to go ahead with her plan only when she recognized the couple sitting in the booth behind Stu’s. She hadn’t expected to see her parents in town, but she didn’t suppose it mattered that they were present. They’d hear about the mix-up in identities sooner or later anyway.

  Stepping up to the counter, where Patsy waited in expectation of taking her lunch order, Liss cleared her throat. She’d learned how to project her voice during the years she’d spent touring, even though most of her performance had been dancing rather than acting. She used that training to make sure her words reached every corner of the café.

  “May I have your attention? I have an announcement to make.”

  Heads swiveled her way. She saw recognition in most faces, followed closely by curiosity. Only her mother looked annoyed. Liss shifted slightly, enabling her to watch both Patsy and Stu.

  “The man murdered in the town square on Saturday was not Hadley Spinner.”

  A chorus of “What?” and “How can that be?” greeted this news. Stu scowled. Patsy looked puzzled.

  “Who was it then?” asked Audrey Greenwood, the local veterinarian.

  “Jasper Spinner. All I know is that he was Hadley’s cousin and that they looked very much alike. Enough so that it would have been easy to mistake one for the other.”

  Stu’s response was profane.

  Patsy was silent for a moment and then said, her voice laconic, “I guess there won’t be dancing in the streets after all.”

  The buzz of conversation grew louder as Liss made her way to Stu’s booth. She arrived just in time to keep him from escaping.

  “Move,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “I only need a minute. Help me out, Stu. Did you stay in your apartment the rest of the afternoon on Saturday?”

  “That’s none of your damn business.” The dark red stain creeping from his neck into his face gave visible proof that someone who was angry could be said to be “hot under the collar.”

  Since he looked ready to shove her out of the way if she didn’t back up, Liss retreated a few steps, but she wasn’t about to stop asking questions. “I’m trying to help you,” she said in a low voice as he passed her.

  He swung around, eyes flashing. “You’re fishing to see if I have an alibi. Bad enough I had to put up with the police’s questions. I don’t have to say a damned word to you.”

  With that, he stormed out. The other customers didn’t even pretend they weren’t watching him go. As soon as the door slammed, they resumed speculating among themselves. Liss once again approached the lunch counter.

  “I don’t know what he’s so het up about.” Patsy gave an extra hard scrub to the Formica surface in front of her.

  The smell of bleach made Liss’s nose wrinkle, but it dissipated quickly, overpowered by the much more pleasant scents of cinnamon and cooked apples. Patsy had been baking pies.

  The people seated on stools applied themselves to their food and tried to pretend they weren’t listening. Liss knew them all—the postmaster, the town clerk, and Thea Campbell, Sherri’s formidable mother-in-law and one of the town’s select persons. Maybe this hadn’t been such a brilliant idea after all, Liss thought, but it was too late to reverse course. She focused her attention on Patsy.

  “Does that mean you’re willing to tell me where you were at the time of the murder?”

  Patsy shrugged her bony shoulders. “Might as well. I didn’t go any closer to the town square than my own front stoop and I didn’t see what happened on the merry-go-round. It wasn’t until I saw the lights from the emergency vehicles that I had any clue there was something wrong.”

  “You’d have been closed by then, right?”

  Patsy nodded.

  “Did you look over that way when you locked up?”

  “I did not. Do you think I wanted to see those morons marching around in the square? I secured the door and pulled the shade and went about my business. I may not have had many customers because of the demonstration, but I still had to clean up and get ready for the next morning. Sundays always get busy early. People like their treats both before and after church.”

  “Was anyone with you?”

  Patsy’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when can I afford help in this place? I work alone. I close up alone. Nobody’s going to come forward to verify my alibi.” She gave a bark of laughter. “Only one likely to have seen me running my mop around is the killer.”

  “I can’t prove where I was at the time either,” Liss told her.

  “But you aren’t one of the people the cops are taking a close look at, are you?” Patsy didn’t sound as if she resented that fact. She was just pointing it out.

  For the first time, Liss wondered about that. Why wasn’t she a suspect? Spinner’s vendetta had targeted her business, too. And she was the one he’d insulted, pushing Dan into attacking him.

  Since Patsy had customers waiting to pay their bills, Liss drifted away from the counter. Belatedly, she remembered that her parents were sitting in one of the booths. Vi’s lips were tightly pursed in disapproval as she watched her daughter walk toward them.

  “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Obviously.” There was a snap in Vi’s voice.

  Liss blinked at her. “You just got a chance to watch your daughter detect. I’d have thought you’d find that interesting.”

  “I found it disturbing, but that’s beside the point.” Vi toyed with her fork and avoided meeting Liss’s eyes.

  Sliding into the booth beside her father, Liss put her elbows on the table and her chin on her fists. “Okay. I’ll bite. What is the point?”

  “How did you find out that it wasn’t Hadley?”

  Liss squirmed a bit, finally twigging to what had upset her mother. “Sherri and I went out to Pilgrim Farm this morning.”

  “And you didn’t stop to think that I might want to go along? I thought we were going to investigate this murder together.”

  Since Vi looked genuinely hurt by the oversight, Liss fought down her first impulse—to remind her that she’d never agreed to do any sleuthing in the first place, let alone to do so in partnership with her mother. The very idea of working that closely with Vi was enough to make her break out in hives.

  “I was in a hurry,” she excused herself. “I had an idea about the Pilgrims that I wanted to check out and I didn’t want to delay doing it. The police might have been out there if I’d put off going and it would have taken too much time to get hold of you and then wait for you to drive into town from Ledge Lake.”

  This rambling explanation was full of holes, but Vi seemed to buy it. When she turned aside to fish for something in her oversized tote bag, Liss’s father gave her a thumbs-up that brought a faint smile to her lips. She supposed it was too much to hope for that she was finally getting the hang of dealing with her mother.

  She rapidly abandoned that notion when Vi found what she’d been searching for.

  With a thunk, a small but deadly-looking gun landed on the table between them. That it was hot pink in color didn’t make it any less alarming. Liss gaped, at first unable to find words to express the shock and dismay she was feeling. The term pistol-packin’ mama was not supposed to refer to her mother.

  “Don’t worry,” Vi said in a cheerful voice. “It’s legal and licensed and in this state it’s no problem anymore to carry concealed.”

  “Put it away, Vi,” Mac said quietly. “I don’t think Liss likes firearms. I know I don’t.”

  Vi pouted. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. I learned to shoot when we were in Ariz
ona. Snakes, you know. But this should work just as well to ward off two-legged vermin.”

  Their exchange had been low voiced but intense and had attracted the attention of other customers. Catching sight of the gun, Patsy bore down on them with a stern expression on her thin face.

  “Put it away, Mom,” Liss whispered. “You won’t need it. Neither of us is going to do anything dangerous.”

  The weapon disappeared back into Vi’s tote a moment before Patsy slapped the check down on their table. “Violet MacCrimmon,” she declared. “You are a piece of work.”

  Liss couldn’t have said it better herself.

  Chapter Eight

  Liss wanted to talk to her aunt next, but Margaret Boyd had left Moosetookalook early that morning, hours before Liss had come up with the bright idea to drive out to Pilgrim Farm. Margaret had been planning for weeks to attend a workshop put on by the Three Cities Genealogical Society. She was gone most of the day.

  When Liss spotted Margaret’s car and knew she was back home, she reached for the phone.

  “Can you come over?” she asked. “We need to talk.”

  It was doubtful that Margaret had heard anything about the latest development in the murder case. Liss wanted to be the one to tell her. She was also looking forward to the opportunity to ask her aunt a few pointed questions.

  “What has Violet done now?” Margaret asked. In the background, Liss could hear the sound of kibble being poured into dishes for Dandy and Dondi.

  “You don’t want to know.” Ever since she’d left Patsy’s, Liss had been trying to get the image of that pink gun out of her mind. The only thing worse than a loose cannon was one that was armed.

  A few minutes later, a flurry of movement and the tapping of tiny toenails on Liss’s back porch heralded Margaret’s arrival. Liss supposed she should have expected that she’d bring the two Scottish terriers with her, since the dogs had been cooped up in the apartment for most of the day.

  “Come on in,” she called, and reached into an overhead cabinet for two dessert plates.

  The Scotties made their usual circuit of the room as soon as Margaret let them off their leashes, sniffing every corner, intrigued by the scent of cat even though no felines were in sight. The first time Dandy had met Liss’s large yellow Maine Coon cat, Lumpkin had let her know in no uncertain terms who ruled this particular roost. Liss thought he was upstairs, asleep on the bed, and hoped he’d stay there.