“Well, that’s the thing,” Margaret said. “Stu wasn’t exactly from away. His mother was a Harrison from Lower Mooseside. Miranda is his niece.”
“Huh,” Liss said, startled. That Stu had a family connection to the Pilgrims was the last thing she’d expected to hear.
Vi sent her sister-in-law a thoughtful look. “If the police think you killed Jasper because of Susan, then they have just as much reason to think Stu did, and for the same reason.”
“That about sums it up, but I still think it’s a foolish notion. Susan’s death was just too long ago to have any bearing on what’s happening now.”
“So you keep saying.” Vi didn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s get back to the time line.” Liss hastily wrote in the approximate date Stu had set up shop and moved her pen down on the page to the next empty line. “Hadley Spinner arrived fifteen years ago, right?”
Margaret nodded. “Hadley, Jasper, George Gerard, and Charles Knapp. Old Man Harrison sold them his farm and died soon after. The next thing you know, Miranda and Susan up and married Hadley and Jasper.”
“Fast forward three years.” Liss made a notation. “Susan wants to leave. Did she say why?”
Margaret shook her head. “She was never very specific. Back then, she and her sister often came into town, and they wore normal clothing. They didn’t wear makeup, but then neither do a lot of rural Maine women.”
“Who else was living at Pilgrim Farm by then?” Vi asked.
“And was it called Pilgrim Farm?” Liss put in. “Were they the New Age Pilgrims from the start?”
Brow furrowed, Margaret had to think about that last question for a moment. “I’m not certain how soon they established themselves as an organized group. Lower Mooseside is in the middle of nowhere. No one would have noticed what was going on out there unless they did something to call attention to themselves. I do remember that Hadley Spinner, when he deigned to show his face, was quite the charismatic figure. All the girls were sighing over him and wondering how plain, dull Miranda managed to catch him.”
Liss’s face twisted into a moue of distaste at the thought of lusting after Hadley Spinner. “I suppose he might pass as good-looking if he were fifteen years younger and didn’t have that awful beard, but I didn’t sense an iota of charisma in him.”
“You had to be there,” Margaret said. “Think of rock stars. All those girls screaming and swooning. Then ten, fifteen, twenty years later, some of them still have that . . . something. In others, the magic has just faded away.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” She studied her time line. “Twelve years ago, Susan wanted to leave, changed her mind, and then drowned in the stock pond at the farm. What else was going on at the time? Did she talk about the other Pilgrims?”
“Some. Not a lot. There were more of them by then. George Gerard had married Connie. Charles Knapp was still single.”
“So marriage wasn’t a requirement?”
Margaret shook her head. “Not that I know of, but there was another couple there by then. Diana was the woman’s name, but I don’t recall her husband’s.”
“And three more couples have joined up since.”
“Unless there were some who came and left again,” Vi said.
“Nobody leaves.”
Liss and her mother exchanged a worried glance at Margaret’s morose tone of voice.
“How would you know?” Liss asked. “You just reminded us how remote the location is.”
“That’s what Susan told me. Nobody was supposed to leave, ever. Hadley Spinner demanded a lifetime commitment.”
* * *
The next day, Friday, Liss opened the Emporium at the usual hour. Ten minutes later, her parents walked in.
“Mac’s going to work for you,” Vi announced. “You and I are going on a field trip.”
“We talked about this yesterday, Mom. It’s too risky for either of us to go out to Pilgrim Farm.”
Her mother’s response was a vigorous shake of the head. “Nonsense. Take another look at that Pilgrim marching back and forth in the town square with his ridiculous sign. That’s Hadley Spinner himself. That means that this is the perfect time to pay a visit to his wife.”
As Liss drove them toward Lower Mooseside, she still had her doubts. Her hands gripped the steering wheel much too tightly and her misgivings hovered over her head like a rain cloud. Spinner might be the alpha dog, but the other men in his pack could be just as vicious. She must have been crazy to let her mother talk her into this.
Then again, their excuse for a visit—Vi’s desire to reconnect with an old student—might just be simple and direct enough to convince the Pilgrims that it was sincere. It was probably worth a shot.
As seemed to be the pattern, Liss saw no one about when she pulled into the dooryard at Pilgrim Farm and parked. The stillness made her uneasy, but she hoped it meant that all menfolk were out working in the fields, or doing whatever it was they did on the farm, and would never know that strangers had trespassed on their land. She got out of the car and followed her mother through the door to the ell, but she was unable to stop herself from scanning her surroundings for hidden dangers.
No one leapt out at them when they entered a perfectly ordinary Maine building. The ell was a sort of shed attached to the house on one side and the barn on the other. Firewood for the coming winter was stacked against the back wall. In a corner, unless Liss was much mistaken, that door with the quarter moon cut into it opened into an indoor outhouse.
Vi knocked on the door just to their right as they entered the ell. A few minutes later, it was flung open to reveal Miranda Spinner. She squinted at them for a moment before recognition dawned on her plain, pale face.
“Mrs. MacCrimmon,” she murmured. There was a note of awe in her voice.
“Hello, Miranda. It’s nice to see you again. I hope you don’t mind my stopping by, but I’m always curious about my former students. May we come in?” Since Vi was already through the door and into the kitchen, there wasn’t much Miranda could do to keep her out.
It was a pleasant room, if somewhat old-fashioned. A long table with benches on either side suggested that meals were taken here rather than in a dining room. An enormous wood-burning cookstove took up most of the rest of the space. Delicious aromas filled the air. A pot of stew simmered on a back burner and bread dough was rising in a bowl on the shelf above. The cloth over the top was already bowed upward.
“Come through.” Miranda sounded unhappy but resigned. “We’re working in the parlor.”
Liss and her mother exchanged a glance. So much for talking to Miranda alone.
They followed their hostess along a short hallway, past the entrance to stairs that turned sharply upward, and into a large, comfortable room with a fireplace that, like the kitchen stove, radiated heat. The Pilgrim women sat in a circle, industriously plying their needles.
“Oh, my goodness!” Vi exclaimed. “It’s a quilting bee. What lovely work.”
“Needful,” Miranda said. “Cold weather’s coming.”
“And the gentlemen?” Liss asked. “What do they work at while you keep busy inside?”
It was Anna Knapp who answered her. “They’re all at the wood lot. It takes many cords of wood to cook our meals and keep us warm though the winter.”
Liss breathed a silent sigh of relief. Free of interruption by their husbands, it might be possible to start a dialogue with these women.
Vi beamed indiscriminately at them all. “Hello. So nice to meet you. I’m Violet MacCrimmon and this is my daughter, Amaryllis Ruskin. And you are?”
Liss winced at her mother’s use of her full name, but no one in this group seemed to think it was odd that she’d been named after a flower. She couldn’t tell if there were any Buttercups or Rosebuds among the lavender ladies. Miranda introduced her companions as Mistress Spinner, Mistress Collins, Mistress Gerard, Mistress Knapp, Mistress Miller, Mistress Fontaine, and Mistress Callahan.
Sh
e thought she remembered a Laurel from the list the town clerk had drawn up for her mother. Yes—Laurel Miller. Mistress Miller was a buxom young woman with rosy cheeks and a dimple in her chin. The child, Kimmy, was her daughter, but Liss saw no sign of the little girl. Maybe it was nap time, or maybe they just locked her up somewhere to keep her out of the way. Considering the bars on the windows of the women’s dormitory, that was certainly possible.
The other Mistress Spinner, Chloe, was younger than Liss expected, given that her late husband had been in his fifties. While Vi chattered at Miranda, Liss maneuvered herself into position behind the widow and complimented her on her handiwork.
“I wish I could sew,” she confided—a blatant lie, but in a good cause. “I’m all thumbs when it comes to handling a needle and thread. I can’t even fix a snagged hem.” That much was the truth.
Chloe kept her eyes fixed on the fabric in front of her and did not respond. Anna Knapp, who sat next to her, managed a covert glance in Liss’s direction but gave no other sign that she was interested in their visitor. Liss wondered if she’d concealed their earlier encounter from her friends.
“Everyone should be taught wifely skills at an early age,” said the woman Miranda had identified as Mistress Collins.
She had to be Diana, Liss thought, the lavender lady who, along with Connie Gerard and Miranda Spinner, had been at Pilgrim Farm when Susan was alive. Liss wished her aunt had been able to remember more about the other woman, but it had been a dozen years. All Margaret had been able to recall was that either Connie or Diana had been sympathetic to Susan’s desire to leave and the other had argued against it.
Diana Collins had a starchy look to her, even though the floor-length dress she wore was soft from repeated washings. She was an angular woman with a thin face and sharply defined features. Liss would not have chosen her to confide in, but that did not mean Susan had found her unsympathetic. Appearances were often deceiving.
It was even more difficult for Liss to form an impression of Connie Gerard, who kept her head down and contributed nothing to the conversation. At the first opportunity, she excused herself to visit what she called “the necessary” and did not return.
After some initial awkwardness, most of the women seemed pleased to have company. Liss let her mother take the lead in the conversation. She’d never thought of Vi as a domestic goddess, but girls had been required to take classes in home economics back in the day. Vi knew far more housekeeping tips, cooking secrets, and needlework terms than her daughter ever would.
“I was so sorry to hear about Susan’s death,” Vi said after ten minutes of inconsequential chitchat. “So sad to go so young.”
A deafening silence fell over the entire group.
“That happened a long time ago.” Miranda’s voice was sharp. “It’s best forgotten.”
“But she was your sister. And you both stayed on here after your father sold the farm.” Vi’s tone became arch. “I imagine there’s a romantic story there, what with both you and Susan finding true love among the Pilgrims.”
“It was a practical matter,” Miranda said. “Neither of us wanted to leave our home.”
Well, that was honest enough, Liss thought.
Gamely, Vi soldiered on. “And my condolences to you, Chloe, on the loss of your husband. Your former brother-in-law, was he not, Miranda?”
Chloe kept her head down. She might as well have been deaf.
Miranda was made of sterner stuff. “Delightful as this has been, Mrs. MacCrimmon, the men will be returning soon for their lunch. I’d advise you to leave before they arrive.”
This unsubtle hint, combined with Miranda’s firm grip on Vi’s arm, propelled Liss’s mother out into the dooryard. Liss trailed behind, amused in spite of herself. There had been more than one occasion in the past when she’d been tempted to use a similar technique to get her mother to stop nagging.
Once they’d been evicted, Miranda stood in the doorway, feet braced wide apart and arms folded over her chest, blocking the entrance to the ell. “Mr. Spinner prefers that we keep to ourselves,” she announced. “There’s no point in you coming back here again.”
“She’d have made a good teacher,” Liss remarked as they walked back to the car.
Her mother’s response was a snort of laughter.
* * *
They were nearly back in Moosetookalook, mercifully driving on a straight stretch of road, when a pale face topped with a mop of disheveled hair suddenly appeared in Liss’s rearview mirror. Her hands jerked on the steering wheel and she barely managed to keep control of the car. Her heart was still racing when her mother realized they were not alone and twisted as far around as her seat belt would allow to see who was there.
“We appear to have a stowaway,” Vi said in a laconic tone of voice. If she was rattled, it wasn’t obvious.
Liss tried to mimic her air of calm. “I can see that.” A second glance in the mirror put a name to their uninvited passenger.
“Please don’t make me go back,” Connie Gerard whispered.
“We wouldn’t think of it,” Vi said, “but you’d better scrunch down again until after we pull the car into Liss’s garage. You don’t want Hadley Spinner to catch sight of you.”
With a whimper, Connie sank out of sight.
“Mom,” Liss asked in a low voice, “are you sure that’s the best plan?”
“Do you have a better one?”
“We could take Connie straight to the police station. Sherri will know where the nearest women’s shelter is located.” There was a parking lot behind the municipal building and a back entrance. Spinner wouldn’t see Connie getting out of the car and hurrying inside.
“That won’t do.”
“As soon as Hadley Spinner hears she’s missing and is told about the visit we paid to Pilgrim Farm, he’ll know exactly where to look for her.”
“We have time. He’s not going to stop picketing and go home for hours yet.”
“Mom—”
“Don’t argue with your mother.” Vi was adamant. “We’ll go to your house, where we three can talk in private. After that, we’ll decide what’s best to do. “
Liss gave in. She could always phone Sherri and ask her to join them.
There was no direct entrance to Liss’s house from the garage, but it did have a back door. From there, it was only a few steps to the small porch that led into Liss’s kitchen. Their exit into the backyard went smoothly until Dan chose that moment to emerge from his workshop. Connie froze, a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. For a moment, Liss was afraid that she might bolt and end up running straight into Hadley Spinner’s line of sight.
“Go on in.” Liss tossed her house keys to Vi and shooed the two women in that direction before making a beeline for her husband. “Don’t say a word,” she warned him as she steered him back into the shop and closed the door behind them.
Sawdust hung in the air, along with the smell of polyurethane. There wasn’t a lot of room to move around, what with saws and worktables and walls lined with storage racks, but Liss needed only enough space to stand face-to-face with her husband. She placed her hands lightly on his forearms and waited until their eyes locked.
“It would be really really helpful if you didn’t come into the house for the next hour or so.”
“I was about to take a lunch break.”
“Why don’t you go to Patsy’s? Treat yourself to something hot.”
“Fine, but first tell me who that woman is and what she’s doing here.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?”
“I don’t know any details yet. That’s why Mom and I need some time alone with her.” She released Dan and turned to leave, but he caught up with her before she could go two steps.
“What do you know?”
“Dan—”
“We don’t keep secrets from each other—remember?”
She braced herself for fallout, but she stopped trying to evade
his questions. “Mom and I went out to Pilgrim Farm because Spinner was accounted for. He’s today’s one-man picket line.” She’d caught a glimpse of him just before she turned into her driveway. “Connie hid in the car before we left. It’s obvious she wants our help, but she’s a little gun-shy. She’ll be more at ease if there are only other women in the house.”
“I don’t like this, Liss.”
“It will be okay. You’ll see. Just let us talk to her and then we’ll call Sherri in.”
“You’re sure Spinner didn’t spot her?”
“Positive.”
He didn’t look happy about the situation, but he promised to give them time alone with Connie. “Just be careful,” he warned. “Lock the door after you go inside. Spinner’s already got a grudge against us. It wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge.”
“The longer he stays away from Pilgrim Farm, the longer we’ll have before he finds out that one of his flock has flown the coop.” She met Dan’s worried gaze. “I’ll get her away from here as soon as I can. I promise. But I want to hear what she has to say first.”
Dan’s arm went around her and she rested her head against his chest. “Here’s hoping she’ll know something that will help the police find Jasper’s killer.” He kissed the tip of her nose before releasing her. “For luck.”
Liss slipped out of the workshop and trotted across a small expanse of grass. In the kitchen, she found Connie and Vi at the table with cups of tea in front of them, but Connie wasn’t drinking hers. She was sobbing uncontrollably while Vi patted her shoulder and murmured words of comfort.
The tears continued for the next quarter of an hour, until Liss was sorely tempted to administer that time-honored cure for hysteria, the slap to the face.
“Connie, you have to calm down. You’ll make yourself sick if you keep this up.” It was only the twentieth repetition of words to that effect. It didn’t work any better than it had the last nineteen times.
Overkilt Page 18