“Cam.”
I turned my head to see Andy and Cass talking with Ed Stone, the TV newsman from the festival. “Hello,” I said, joining them. “Good to see you again, Mr. Stone. Are you here personally or professionally?”
“A little of both, I’m afraid. With a story like this you can’t pass up the opportunity to get something on film for the public.”
“No, of course not.” I glanced at Cass, but she was entranced by the local celebrity. “Where’s your cameraman?” I asked, looking around for the man who had filmed the kids sledding at the Landow Farm when the festival’s skiing competition went downhill.
“Right here,” he said, taking Andy’s wrist and raising his arm. “As of yesterday when I got a video sent to me in my email that this young man had filmed. Genius. I went to my producer and demanded that we hire him immediately.”
“You’re kidding!” I said. “Andy, that’s wonderful!” I grabbed him in a big hug.
Andy grinned ear to ear. “It’s amazing. I’ll be working in my field. I never thought I could stay here in town and use my skills to make a living.”
Cass beamed. I could see the relief wafting off of her. She didn’t have to worry that he’d leave town (and her behind) for a career. He wouldn’t have to make a choice.
“I’m so happy for you,” I said to them both.
I caught sight of Lana and Starnes walking through the doorway. “Excuse me,” I said, and hurried over as fast as I could without seeming too obvious.
“Hello,” I said, and held out my hand to Starnes. “Good to see you both again.”
“And you as well,” Starnes said. “Is that husband of yours around? I haven’t seen him in ages.”
I didn’t know if he really wanted to see Ben, or if he was scoping the place, hoping the cops weren’t around so he could sell his moonshine. “He’s working today.”
“Solving this case, I hope,” he said. “Such a shame. Who would do such a thing?”
“I have a feeling we’ll never know,” Lana said. She smiled and took a deep breath. “Well, Cameron, I have a bottle for you in my handbag. It’s ten dollars.”
“Should we do this right here?” I asked, glancing around. “Right now?”
“Just about everyone here will be buying a bottle from us today,” Starnes said. “Nobody minds.”
Lana set her enormous leather bag on a pedestal table by the wall, moving aside another framed portrait of David in his ski helmet. Bottles clinked together inside. “I have them wrapped in brown paper,” she said. “So it’s discreet.”
“Yes, very discreet,” I said under my breath.
“What are you doing?” Monica asked, coming up beside me.
“Making a purchase. What are you doing?”
“Maybe the same,” she said. Then she whispered to me, “This house is bank owned. I can get it for a steal.”
“Bank owned?” I whispered back, but Starnes had turned around and started talking to Jefferson Briggs, and Lana was busy unzipping her good times bag of hooch. “I didn’t know Dixon was broke.”
“Apparently, he was. Evelyn said the bank officially foreclosed last week and put the house on the market yesterday.” She looked the room over from top to bottom, grinning. “This is the perfect room for Isobel. She’d love it out here. There’s so much sun that comes through the windows. I’d put her bed right over there.” She pointed to where Cass, Andy, and Ed Stone were standing.
“That reminds me, Andy has a new job. Go ask him about it.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“What gave me away?”
“Fine, Velma. Do your thing.”
She walked away, and Lana turned around. “Ten dollars,” she said.
“Right.” I swung my bag around to my front and opened it. It was hard to get into it and dig around one-handed. I pulled out what I thought was my wallet but ended up being a portable battery for my cell phone. “Do you mind holding this for me?”
I handed it over to Lana and dug back in. “It’s impossible to find anything in this bag. Do you have that problem with yours?”
“Not really,” she said watching me with a fascination.
My pain pills rattled around somewhere in the depths of my bag. “I thought I took those out of there.” I grabbed another object that turned out to be a business card holder and handed it to her. “Third time’s a charm.”
She shook her head, unconvinced.
I stuck my hand back in and found it. “Voilà!” I yanked my wallet out and my pain pills fell to the floor, clattering together in their bottle. “Good gravy.”
I bent to pick them up and realized they weren’t my pain pills. It was a rectangular pill holder that was shaped like a container of Tic Tacs, but it sure wasn’t mine. In black marker the name Lana Buntley was written on one side. I held it out to show her.
“You have my pills!” she shouted, snatching them from me. “My blood pressure pills! You have them! You killed Clayton!”
“What?!” My heart rattled around in my rib cage much like those pills had been rattling around in my purse. Every eye in the room was on me. “No! I don’t know how those got in my bag!”
Starnes grabbed me by the arm. “Someone call the police!”
Monica’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. She stood frozen beside Andy and Cass, who were equally as astonished.
Ed Stone hailed his cameraman.
I fixed my eyes on Old Dan. “Tell the bees I’m going to jail.”
• Seventeen •
Ben sat in a metal folding chair outside my jail cell in Brookville four hours later. He leaned the chair back against the bars and stared ahead of him at the sea foam green wall. That was the color that Irene accused me of painting Ellsworth house; my house was nowhere near sea foam green. “Tell me again how you didn’t know those pills were in your bag,” Ben said.
“I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve lived with me for enough years to know my purse is always a mess. I can’t ever find anything inside it. I have no idea what’s in there. The Holy Grail could be hiding out in there for all I know.”
“This is bad, Cam. You heard the judge at the bail hearing. We’re looking at a possible murder charge. At the very least you’re getting obstruction of justice. You concealed a murder weapon whether you knew it or not.”
He leaned forward and put his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry. I know this makes you look terrible. You’re a police officer and your wife is in jail. You know I didn’t do anything, though. There has to be a way to prove it.”
“There is. Tell me how those pills ended up in your bag.”
“I don’t know! I wish I did.”
“Think, Cameron,” he said, whipping around to face me. “Think!”
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips against my lids. My head was starting to pound. “Someone framed me. That’s the only thing I can think of.”
“Who would frame you, and why? Who has it out for you?”
My nemesis came to mind. “Mr. Mustache. The crossing guard who stands at the corner.”
Ben blinked a few times, like he couldn’t understand what I was saying. “Why would a crossing guard have it out for you?”
“I kind of gave him the finger once.”
Ben let out a soundless chuckle through his nose. “I don’t think that would make someone want to frame you for murder.”
“He was there—at Clayton’s house the day of the festival—the day Clayton was killed. He asked me what I was doing there when I went with you that morning. Or maybe I asked him. Whatever. Either way. He was there, and I was there, and he had to have been the one who put those pills in my purse.”
“And how did he get the pills in the first place? Are you suggesting he’s the person who killed Clayton? What was his motive? Did they even
know each other?”
“Everyone knows each other here, Ben! And motive is your job. You’re the cop.” I slumped back on the bench.
“I think you’re grasping,” he said.
“I don’t know who else hates me enough to set me up as a murderer.”
“Do you really think it was the crossing guard?”
I sighed. “No. I guess not.”
“Who then?”
“I don’t know. I remember hearing a rattling sound in my bag though, before I even broke my arm. I didn’t think it was pills. I figured it was mints or candy or something. I guess after I broke my arm I just thought it was my pain pills.”
“Okay, good. That’s progress. So how long ago was it? Before you broke your arm but after Clayton died. That was only Friday to Monday, Cam. It was sometime over the weekend when you heard it. Think about that time frame. What did you do after Clayton died but before you broke your wrist on Monday?”
I ran back through that time. “Well, I went with you to Clayton’s, where the ski course was being set up. I talked with John there. talked to Soapy on the phone and we decided we needed to find a new location for the ski competition. At home the Action Agency and Soapy all met to regroup. We ended up begging Phillis to let us use her farm. Let’s see, after they left, what did I do? Oh, you and Mia came home. Mia had a game to cheer at that night.” Then it hit me hard, like a piano falling on my head. “Ben!” I jumped up off the bench and darted to the bars of the cell. “I went over to Clayton’s to talk to Jason. That’s when I slipped on the sidewalk and my bag upended and everything fell out. I grabbed as much as I could in the dark from the flower beds between those stupid pricker bushes and shoved everything in my purse. That pill box must have been in the bushes at Clayton’s house!”
Ben reached through the bars, grasped the sides of my face and pulled me forward to kiss me. “I’m going to talk to Reins. I’ll be back.”
I sat in the cell for what seemed like forever. What if it didn’t matter how I got the pills in my bag? What if Reins, or the judge, or whoever decided if I was a murderer, didn’t believe me? Maybe I needed a lawyer. Sure, the arresting officer was my husband, but I should still have legal representation.
Monica and Quinn were let through the locked door at the end of the hall and ushered to my cell by a short, stocky officer I’d never met. One of Reins’s Brookville PD sidekicks. “Ten minutes,” he told them, and left them standing outside my cell bars.
“Ben told us everything,” Monica said.
“We know you’re not a murderess,” Quinn said in his Irish lilt.
“I called Mom,” Monica said. “They’re getting you out on bail.”
“Who is? Who’s they? Who has that much money?” My bail was set at five hundred thousand dollars. Even a bond would cost fifty grand.
“It’s not so much a they, actually,” she said.
“Finch,” I guessed.
She nodded. “He’d do anything for Mom.”
My stomach twisted. I was happy for Mom. She found a great guy. Carl was really smart and had a good head on his shoulders. If he loved her, then I had nothing to complain about. I just wasn’t ready for a stepdad, and I wasn’t ready to owe him five hundred thousand dollars for bailing me out of jail.
“She’s on her way here,” Monica said. “She left about an hour ago.”
That gave me about an hour and twenty minutes to mentally prepare.
“Carl will be here in a few minutes,” she said. “He’s putting up bail next door at the courthouse and then he’ll come over here. Luckily he knows someone in the clerk’s office; usually they’re closed by now.”
“Okay. That’s very nice of him. I appreciate it.”
“You sound like a robot.”
“It’s been a long day, Mon.”
“How are we going to find out who did this? Do I get the Action Agency together? Do we meet in the morning?”
I nodded. “They’ll be in our kitchen in the morning whether call them or not. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Everyone in the room was stunned when you were arrested.”
“Was it on the news yet? That cameraman was right in my face.”
“Don’t worry. I think Andy took care of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“All I know is he offered to help the cameraman set up because they were in a rush to start filming before the cops got there. After they took you away Andy told me he was taking care of it, and you would never be on the news as an accused murderer.”
“Oh, good gravy, he’s going to lose the job he just got all because of me being stupid and not knowing what I’m lugging around inside my purse.”
“No, if he loses his job it’s because he saved a friend the pain and humiliation of being publicly branded a murderer on TV.”
“Same thing,” I said. “It all comes down to being my fault.”
The door at the end of the hall unlocked and squealed open again. Carl came through with the police officer who’d escorted Monica and Quinn in. They reached my cell and the officer unlocked it. “You’re free to go. You’re not to leave town. Officer Hayman is responsible for your adherence to the terms of bail.”
Carl patted him on the back and thanked him. Carl knew everyone.
“Thank you,” I said to Carl. He was smiling like he couldn’t be happier to spend that much money.
“You’re more than welcome. I’m happy to be able to do it for you.”
I took in his nicely styled gray hair, his tan slacks, button-down shirt and loafers and couldn’t help smiling myself. My mom was a lucky woman.
“We can put a payment plan together,” I said. “I’ll give you an amount each month until … ” I let my words drift off. Carl was shaking his head.
“You must’ve forgotten that you saved my life,” he said. “If I was dead, I’d certainly never have met your mother. My life alone is worth the amount of your bail, but with her, it’s worth more than anything. We’re even.”
“No, I couldn’t accept it.”
“It’s done,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’ll hear no more about it. As long as you appear at any court hearings, the money will be refunded. Minus some fees. Now, let’s get you home. Your mother is on her way there now.”
Well, if I was going to have a second dad in my life, Carl wasn’t such a bad one to have around.
Mom paced around the family room with a wineglass in her hand. Her heels made little indentations in the carpet. Carl sat in the antique wingback chair watching her every move. Even though it was nearly ten o’clock at night, Monica and Quinn were in the kitchen making popcorn. Ben sat next to me on the couch with Colby and Jack nestled between us, and Mia was laying on the floor holding Liam with her head resting on Gus.
We were all lost in thought, wondering how I was getting out of this mess.
“Clearly,” Mom said, “this Lana woman poisoned him. She dropped her pills as she was leaving.” She took a sip of wine and paced some more. “Clearly,” she repeated.
“We’ve already questioned her,” Ben said. “There was nothing we could arrest her on.”
“But now we have pills and her name on them,” Mom said, “found at the scene of the crime.”
“Allegedly,” Ben said. “I believe Cam, of course, but a judge has to believe her. Lana will be questioned again tomorrow. If there’s anything we can hold her on, she’ll be arrested, too. But that doesn’t clear Cam.”
“This is just ridiculous,” Mom said.
“I’m going to visit Judge Hendrix in the morning,” Carl said. “Put your mind at ease, Angela.”
She paced to his chair and kissed the top of his head. “How will I ever thank you for what you’ve done?”
He patted her on the bottom and shrugged his eyebrows up and down. My stomach went queasy. I di
dn’t need to see that. Now I knew what Mia felt like when Ben and I first started dating. There’s just something odd about seeing your mom with a man who isn’t your dad, I don’t care how old you are.
Monica and Quinn came in with two huge bowls of popcorn. “Cheddar cheese flavor and regular butter flavor,” Monica said, setting them both on the coffee table.
Mia sat up and grabbed a handful of the cheddar cheese flavor. Gus put a paw on her leg, silently pleading for some. Liam wasn’t that polite. He jumped up and ate a piece from the pile in her hand.
“Liam!” she shouted, and he ran toward me and Ben and hid under the couch. “You runt,” she said.
Roused, Colby and Jack bounced off the couch and started circling the table.
As soon as this was over, all the fur balls were going to training. Or maybe Ben could take them while I was in prison for the next twenty-five years to life.
“Outside!” Mom shouted. “Let’s go!” She rounded them up and headed for the back door.
“Do I look good in orange?” I asked, holding my cast up to my face.
“You’re not going to prison,” Ben said, taking my hand and lowering my arm. “Have some popcorn and try not to worry.”
“I’ve called my attorney in New York,” Carl said. “He’s flying in tomorrow.”
“Wow,” I said. “You have an attorney in New York?”
“When you collect antiquities from all over the world, you have to have the best.”
“I suppose so.”
“Thank you, Carl,” Ben said. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing to help us.”
“I’ll do whatever is in my means and require no thanks. We’ll all do everything we can to get Cameron out of this.”
The doorbell rang.
“Who would be coming over this late on a Tuesday?” Monica asked.
“Please tell me they aren’t here to take me back to jail,” I said, ready to run and hide in the attic.
“No,” Ben said, “but let me find out who it is.”
He treaded through the hallway and I heard the front door open then Soapy’s voice. The two of them came through to the family room. “There’s our convict,” Soapy said, teasing. “I figured you hadn’t had anything to eat, so I brought over some food.”
Fatal Festival Days Page 17