“At a guess, it’ll be Monday before a judge sets bail. You don’t need to worry about him over the weekend, but what about your husband?”
Connie stared down at her clasped hands and said nothing.
“Connie?” Liss prompted her. “Will George come looking for you?”
“I don’t know.” The words were so softly spoken that Liss had to lean in close in order to catch them.
“Was he with the rest of the men who were working in the woodlot?” Wherever that was, Liss didn’t imagine that it was too far from the house. Miranda had probably sent word to them as soon as she realized that Connie was gone.
Again, Connie shook her head. “Mr. Spinner sent George to the hotel.”
“Picket number two,” Sherri murmured. “There’s usually a man in front of the entrance to The Spruces at the same times when someone is demonstrating in the town square. Does George have a cell phone?”
“No. Only Mr. Spinner is permitted one.”
“How nice for him.” Vi’s sarcastic comment amused her daughter, even though this was no laughing matter.
“What is Spinner afraid of?” Liss asked Connie. “What does he think you’re going to tell us?”
Startled, Connie’s head shot up. Her wide-set brown eyes met Liss’s blue-green gaze. “You’re mistaken. I can’t hurt him or anyone else. I don’t know anything.”
“You may know more than you think you do,” Sherri said.
Even with all four of them lobbing questions at her, Connie couldn’t come up with one shred of evidence against the founder of the New Age Pilgrims. She appeared to know nothing more than she’d already told Liss and Vi. About the murder, she knew even less.
“Jasper was stabbed to death? I thought someone shot him.” Connie’s face pruned up in what appeared to be her struggle to make sense of what she was hearing. “How could anyone confuse Jasper and Hadley if they were close enough to use a knife?”
“Same beard. Same clothing.” Liss didn’t think it was a stretch for someone to be confused. “And he was stabbed in the back.”
“Even so,” Connie insisted, “the two men were very different.”
“Only, I think, to people who lived and worked with them both on a daily basis.” Sherri didn’t sound pleased by that conclusion.
Neither was Liss. If the other Pilgrims were ruled out, then someone from town had to be the murderer. Someone who could mistake one for the other. Someone who did not know either man well enough to tell them apart.
Sherri closed her notebook and glanced at each of them in turn. “Since Connie isn’t going back to Pilgrim Farm, she needs a safe place to stay.”
“What about the women’s shelter down to Fallstown? Or do you have to be battered by your spouse to qualify to hide out there?” If Connie was to be believed, Spinner might play mind games with his followers, but he did not resort to corporal punishment.
Before Sherri could answer, Vi cut in. “Don’t be absurd, Liss. Connie will come home with me. Mac and I have a lovely guest room all set up.” She placed one hand over Connie’s. “You’ll like it on the water. It’s remote and quiet.”
Ledge Lake was also a long way from town and very isolated at this time of year. With most of the other camps closed up until spring, Liss’s parents had no close neighbors to rely on in an emergency. “Are you sure about this, Mom?”
“We’ll be fine. No one will think to look for Connie at our place, and once she has new clothes and puts on a little makeup, her own husband won’t be able to recognize her.”
Connie looked intrigued by the notion.
“Now, since you picked me up this morning,” Vi continued, “I think it would be best if Dan took your car to drive us out there. Connie can duck down in the back seat, as she did earlier, until we’re clear of the village, just in case someone else is watching.”
Violet MacCrimmon was a force of nature once she got an idea into her head. No one argued with her for long. Within a quarter of an hour, she and Connie and Dan left for Ledge Lake.
Sherri lingered, the furrow in her brow suggesting that she had something on her mind.
“You may as well spit it out.” Liss poured two fresh cups of coffee and carried them to the table, along with a package of ginger snaps.
“Things do not look good for Margaret.” Sherri sipped at her coffee and ate one of the cookies. “You understand that I’m not supposed to tell you any of this?”
Liss nodded and waited while her friend fought a brief battle with herself. Sherri risked losing her job if she shared too much information.
“They found one of Margaret’s fingerprints on the murder weapon.”
“Only Margaret’s?”
“I know what you’re going to say. It was her knife, so of course her fingerprints would be on it, and of course the real killer would have worn gloves.”
“Well, duh.”
“But that fingerprint was enough for the police to get their search warrant. The murder weapon was definitely part of the set they found in Margaret’s kitchen.”
“Someone came in while she was out with the dogs and stole it.”
“There’s no proof of that.”
“But why would Margaret kill either Hadley or Jasper? The only possible motive is a tad dated—twelve years and change.”
Sherri leaned across the table, her eyes betraying just how worried she was. “Liss, someone saw Margaret confront one of the Spinners in the town square during the demonstration.”
“So she took the dogs for a walk and encountered him. They had words. No big deal.”
Sherri shook her head. “It was described as a heated argument.”
Clenching both hands around her coffee mug, Liss stared at the rapidly cooling liquid and tried to marshal an argument. This was not good, but she was sure there was an explanation that didn’t involve her aunt wielding a boning knife.
“Who was it that saw Margaret?”
“That I don’t know, but whoever it was, he or she was apparently close enough to the two of them to hear how angry Margaret sounded.”
Liss made an impatient gesture. “I can see Margaret quarreling with Hadley—”
“Or Jasper.”
“Or Jasper, but there is no way she went back to her place afterward, grabbed one of her own knives, lurked in the town square until she saw an opportunity, and then stabbed him in the back.”
“I don’t believe it happened that way, either, but the district attorney may.”
“Don’t the police have any other suspects?”
“Not good ones, and you aren’t going to like pinning the crime on one of them any better.”
Liss sighed. “They’re looking at the people who clashed with Hadley Spinner shortly before Jasper was murdered.”
“That’s right,” Sherri said. “So take your pick—if not Margaret, then you’re left with Stu Burroughs . . . or with Dan.”
* * *
When Sherri had gone, Liss spent a few minutes clearing the table and then set off for the Emporium, where her father had ended up holding the fort for the entire day. From his cheerful greeting, she surmised that he had not noticed the activity at her house. She debated how much to tell him and decided to ease into the subject.
“I feel guilty imposing on you to work like this,” Liss said. “You’re supposed to be retired.”
Her father shrugged and continued closing out the cash register. “To tell you the truth, I’m getting a kick out of it. It’s just like old times. Besides, I scored a real triumph this afternoon. I sold that hideously overpriced crystal Loch Ness Monster you’ve had in stock for at least five years.”
Liss’s eyes widened. That purchase had been one of her most expensive mistakes. She’d thought she’d be stuck with it forever. “I’m impressed, Dad. You can work for me anytime.”
“Any day but tomorrow.” He mimed playing the bagpipe, then chuckled at her blank look. “Parade in Fallstown? Veterans Day? Any of that ring a bell?”
; Liss felt even worse than she had at the start of their conversation. She’d completely forgotten that her father had rejoined his old bagpipe band after moving back to Maine. “That sounds like fun. I wish I could come and cheer you on, but—”
“—somebody’s got to mind the store. No problem.”
She turned the sign on the door from OPEN to CLOSED, glancing out at the town square as she did so. People were walking there, but none of them carried signs warning prospective customers away from Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium or Carrabassett County Wood Crafts. She secured the dead bolt and turned back to her father.
“Mom and I had an interesting day. . . .”
When Mac MacCrimmon left for home a short time later, sending Liss a wave as he pulled out of the driveway between the Emporium and Stu’s Ski Shop, he had been forewarned about the guest his wife had invited to stay with them and had heard the highlights of Hadley Spinner’s reaction to Connie’s departure from Pilgrim Farm. He was not a happy camper, but Liss felt certain her mother would convince him to let the lavender lady stay. He rarely quarreled with her. When he did, she usually won the argument.
Liss continued to have mixed feelings about Connie’s hiding place. Spinner obviously had a temper. She wasn’t sure about the others at the farm, but the thought of six burly men descending on the camp at Ledge Lake was enough to make her break out in a sweat. She checked the locks one last time before heading for the stairs that led up to her aunt’s apartment.
Once she’d run the usual gamut of excited dogs and offers of tea, Liss persuaded Margaret to sit down and answer a few more questions. They pulled out adjacent stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen and settled in for a heart-to-heart talk. Liss spoke first.
“You didn’t tell me you argued with Hadley Spinner on the day of the demonstration.” She could not quite keep the accusing tone out of her voice.
“I didn’t.”
“You were seen.”
“I mean it wasn’t Hadley I had words with. It was Jasper.”
“All the more reason why you should have mentioned your quarrel. Did you tell the police about it?”
“They didn’t ask and I didn’t volunteer the information. Of course, at that point, Gordon Tandy was still letting everyone believe that Hadley was the one who’d been killed, so it didn’t seem relevant.”
“And if he had asked you about Jasper?”
Margaret shrugged. “I’d have mentioned that we had words. Probably. It wasn’t a big deal. I was angry that the Pilgrims and their newfound pals were preventing me from taking the dogs for their usual walk in the town square.” She reached down to tickle Dondi behind one ear. “Then I decided that I wasn’t going to let a bunch of yahoos interfere with my routine and we went over there anyway. I had no intention of speaking to any of the demonstrators, but Jasper planted himself in front of me, waving his sign around and scaring the Scotties.”
As if Dandy knew they were talking about her and her brother, she stood on her hind legs and waved her front paws in the air. Liss rewarded her performance with one of the dog yummies Margaret kept in a small ceramic dish on the island.
“He wasn’t the one with the ‘prevert’ sign, was he?” She gave a second treat to Dondi, even though he’d done nothing more adorable than sit beside her stool and look cute.
“No. This one had Bible verses. Hypocrite. The man didn’t have a religious bone in his body. He just liked having an excuse to tell his wife that she was inferior to him because God made Eve from Adam’s rib.”
Liss could imagine what long-term exposure to such a mindset would do to a person. Like most women, she’d had men try to make her think less of herself just because she was female, but until she encountered the Pilgrims, she’d never truly appreciated how completely cowed a woman could become if she allowed herself to be controlled by a domineering man. Hadley Spinner undoubtedly preached that male supremacy was the natural order of things.
“Did Susan believe that?” she asked her aunt.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that when she first met Jasper she was flattered by the attentions of an attractive older man. He wasn’t bad looking before he grew that ghastly beard. And you have to understand the circumstances. Susan’s father died right after he sold the family home to Hadley. Once Miranda decided to marry him, Susan didn’t feel she had many choices. She didn’t want to stick around as a third wheel. Oh, I know you’ll say that she could have left and started fresh somewhere else, but she’d never been out of Carrabassett County. The world beyond scared her. When Jasper set himself to courting her, she thought marrying him would be the ideal solution. She’d get to stay in her home, but she’d have a husband of her own rather than being Hadley and Miranda’s dependent. Sadly, marriage is the height of ambition for some girls, even these days.”
“Obviously things didn’t work out quite as she’d hoped.”
Even after so many years, Margaret still grieved for her friend. Liss could see the sadness and the regret in her aunt’s eyes. “Poor kid,” Margaret murmured. “She didn’t have a clue what she was getting into. Of course, Hadley’s opinions weren’t quite as peculiar to start with. Those took time to develop. But even at the start, he was an odd duck. What sense did it make for four men from away to move to the middle of nowhere and take up farming on a piece of land that hadn’t produced a decent crop in decades?”
Liss had no answer for her, so she asked another question of her own. “What did Susan tell you about Connie Gerard?”
Margaret toyed with the revolving tray that held a sugar bowl, a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like lobsters, and a seven-day pill case. “Why are you interested in Connie?”
“She’s left the New Age Pilgrims.” Liss provided her aunt with a short version of the day’s adventures.
Too restless to remain still, Margaret slid off the stool and walked to the windowsill where she grew a few herbs for teas and to use in cooking. She plucked several leaves from one of them—some kind of mint by the smell that drifted Liss’s way—and held it to her nose, as if she hoped the scent would soothe her. More effective was the way both Scotties trotted over to her to bump their heads against her legs until she squatted down to cuddle them.
“It was a long time ago,” she said from her crouch. “I don’t see how anything Susan told me can be relevant now.”
“I don’t know how it can be, either, but if the only association you’ve had with the Pilgrims goes back to the time you spent with her, then there must be a connection. Think about it, Margaret. Someone deliberately came into your apartment, took one of your knives, and used it to kill a man. Whoever did that wanted you to be blamed. Unless someone else has a huge grudge against you, it must have been one of the people in town that day.”
“That makes no sense. The only Pilgrim I clashed with was Jasper, and he certainly didn’t murder himself.”
“But in the past you accused all of them of causing Susan’s death. Maybe someone took that personally.” She paused, thinking about what she’d just said. “There was a Pilgrim woman in town that day. I thought it was Anna, the lavender lady who cleans for Audrey Greenwood, but she denied it. Now I’m wondering if it could have been Connie.”
At times, sitting in Liss’s kitchen, she hadn’t seemed quite sane. She’d burst into tears far too easily. She’d answered some questions, but she’d been downright evasive when it came to others. She had clearly been the victim of psychological abuse, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t commit a crime. Liss heartily wished that she’d insisted on sending Connie to the local women’s shelter. She didn’t think her parents were in any danger from their house guest, but she’d have felt a lot better if Connie was staying somewhere else.
“I suppose,” Margaret said, “that if Connie was in town last Saturday, she could have killed Jasper, but why would she? And why would she use my knife to commit the crime? I’ve never even met the woman.”
“Connie and Susan were friends. She told me
that she knew you tried to help her, but what if she thinks you didn’t do enough? Maybe she’s held you responsible all this time for Susan’s decision to kill herself.”
Margaret had gone pale, but she recovered quickly. “Liss, all that happened a dozen years ago! And even if my friendship with Susan somehow gave Connie, or anyone else, a twisted reason to implicate me, why kill Jasper at the demonstration? If she wanted to punish him for his part in what happened to Susan, surely she’d have found an opportunity to do so long before this.”
“Unless, despite everyone’s claim that the other Pilgrims could tell Jasper and Hadley apart, she did mistake one for the other.”
Margaret threw both hands up in the air. “And why, pray tell, would she want to kill Hadley?”
“Because she was fed up with his bullying? Because she wanted to escape? Maybe she hid in the back of my car because she’s terrified that he’s figured that out.”
“It’s a nice theory, Liss, but it’s full of holes. I suppose I can accept that she might have wanted to kill Hadley. Who didn’t? But why go out of her way to make me look guilty? There’s no earthly reason why she’d steal one of my knives to use in the crime.”
“Well, someone set you up. Think back, Margaret. The key must be out at Pilgrim Farm. Anything else makes even less sense. Did you ever go out there back when you were friends with Susan?”
“Only once. I didn’t like what I saw. It still baffles me why an otherwise intelligent woman would submit to being treated that way. The women were allowed to do housekeeping and sewing and cooking and the like, but other than when they were hanging out the washing, they scarcely got a breath of fresh air. Outdoor work was for the menfolk. I sometimes thought that was what bothered Susan most, that she only left the house when she was sent out to earn money by cleaning for other people.”
“If her movements were that restricted, how did you two ever strike up a friendship?”
“How do you think? I hired her to clean the apartment.”
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