by Kathi Daley
“What happened?” he asked a few minutes later as he stooped over the body.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “We were having our regular book club meeting when the storm blew in. It was a lot more intense than we thought it was going to be, so we decided to take a break until it passed. Paula asked to use the phone in the office, so I told her to go ahead and do it. We didn’t realize she was missing until Tara and I were ready to leave and we saw her car was still in the lot. We both agree, after really stopping to think about it, that we don’t remember seeing her after she left to use the phone.”
“Who all was here?” Finn asked as he examined the body with a gloved hand.
“There were twelve of us, including Tara and me,” I answered. “Paula, Giselle Bowman, Barbara Jenkins, Stephanie Abrams, Rachael Steinway, Jane Warton, Sarah Frost, Alice Jones, Martha Greyson, and Gwen Peterman.”
“Did anyone else leave the group after Paula went to use the phone?” Finn asked.
“Yes. We’d all decided to take a break to use the bathroom and share the cookies Tara had brought. Tara and I were in the cat lounge together.” I glanced at Tara. “We don’t know who might have been where once the discussion broke up.”
“Maybe someone came in through the exterior door between the office and the alley,” Tara suggested.
Finn stood up. “We can look. There isn’t much I can do here until the medical examiner and crime scene get here. Do you have something to cover the body?”
Tara handed Finn a large Halloween-themed tablecloth.
“Let’s talk in the other room. We’ll check the exterior door in the office on our way through.”
When we arrived Finn checked the door, which was locked from the inside.
“Does this mean one of the women at the book club is the killer?” Tara stammered.
It did look that way, but I couldn’t think of a single club member I’d suspect of murdering someone in cold blood. It was dark, so I couldn’t tell for certain, but I was willing to bet Tara was feeling as shaky and light-headed as I was.
Finn grabbed a notepad and pen from the desk and suggested we head into the coffee bar so we wouldn’t accidentally tamper with anything should the office turn out to have been the scene of the murder.
“So let’s talk about the knife. Do you recognize it?” Finn began.
“Yes,” Tara answered. “We sometimes use it to open boxes. The last time I saw it before tonight it was lying on the long work counter in the back room.”
Finn jotted down some notes. “Okay, now that we’ve established the knife was already on the property and therefore didn’t belong to the killer, it most likely won’t tell us much unless we can pull some prints. I’ll wait for the crime scene guys to do that. Tell me about the victim.”
“She’s been coming to the bookstore almost since we opened and I know she’s lived on the island for about three years,” Tara responded.
“She recently separated from her husband and has been working at the temp agency,” I added.
“Children?” Finn asked.
“No. Not as far as I know,” I answered.
“So tell me about the husband.”
“His name is Henry,” I said. “He’s a good-looking man who I would estimate to be in his late thirties or early forties. He’s an accountant who works for Calvin and Coleman. I think Paula said he had an apartment over in the Harthaven complex on Fourth Street. I don’t know which unit, but I’m sure it would be easy to find out.”
Finn jotted down a few notes. “Do you know why the couple separated?”
“Paula said he had a woman on the side,” I said. “I guess there’ve been others, but Paula told me she’d finally had enough. I know Henry didn’t take the separation well. If he were here I’d consider him the prime suspect, but because he wasn’t I don’t see how he could have done it.”
“And who, out of the women who were here, would you consider to be a suspect?” Finn asked.
I thought about it before I replied. “No one. Paula seemed to get along with everyone.”
“I agree.” Tara nodded. “I can’t believe any of the women in the club would have done such a thing.”
Finn sat back on the sofa where we’d gathered to wait. “Well, someone stuck a knife in the woman’s chest and because there’s no sign anyone entered the store after the last book club member did, I have to assume one of the other nine women did it. Why don’t you tell me what you know about each of them?”
“Okay,” I said. “Giselle Bowman is around thirty, single, and an avid reader. This is the third book club reading she’s participated in. She volunteers at the library on Tuesdays and waits tables three days a week at the Driftwood Café.”
“And how would you classify her relationship with the decedent?”
“I don’t think they were friends outside the book club, but they seemed to get along okay here. I didn’t pick up any tension between them,” I answered. I looked at Tara.
“They seemed to get along just fine,” she seconded.
“Who else was here tonight?” Finn asked.
“Barbara Jenkins is a stay-at-home mom with two children, both preschool age,” Tara began. “She’s also around thirty and I think she and Paula both participate in community theater. In fact, it seems to me Paula was the one who brought Barbara to book club for the first time about a year ago. They seemed to get along well.”
Tara glanced at me and I jumped in with the next book club member. “Stephanie Abrams is around forty and currently single, although I seem to remember she’s divorced. She’s a legal secretary at Brown and Bidwell. I don’t think she was friends with Paula outside of book club, but I can’t say that for certain. Stephanie is friends with Rachael Steinway, though. Rachael is also around forty, married, with three children all of whom are in their teens. Stephanie and Rachael belong to the same gardening club. I know that because they talked about their gardens quite frequently during last spring’s book club.”
“And their relationship with Paula?” Finn asked.
“I think they got along fine. I guess I would classify them as acquaintances. In fact, as far as I know, the only woman Paula was friends with outside book club other than Barbara was Jane Warton. Jane and Paula would meet for dinner before book club every now and then. Jane is a nurse at the hospital. She has funky hours, so she doesn’t make every book club meeting, but she shows up often enough to keep up with the discussion. Jane’s single with no children. She’s also around thirty.”
I waited while Finn scribbled on his notepad.
“And Sarah Frost?” Finn asked.
“Sarah Frost and Gwen Peterman are sisters,” Tara answered. “Both are in their fifties; both are widows and have grown children who don’t live on the island. Gwen’s a math teacher at the high school and Sarah works for an accounting firm in Harthaven. They seem to be good friends as well as sisters. I’m not certain if they knew Paula outside of book club, but I’ve never noticed any tension between them. The only other women who were here tonight were Alice Jones and Martha Greyson. Alice is married with two young children. She’s a teacher’s aide part time. I guess she’s maybe twenty-five or -six and is the nicest person you’d ever want to meet. Martha Greyson is in her early sixties. She moved to the island four years ago after she retired from teaching. She’s a sweet lady I’m sure would never hurt anyone.”
Finn’s phone rang and we paused for him to answer it. When he hung up he turned back to us. “The sheriff’s boat is about to dock. I think this will take a while. If the two of you want to go on home I can lock up for you.”
I glanced at Tara, who nodded.
“Okay, thanks. I am tired. Will you call me in the morning?”
“I will. You should plan to be closed for a couple of days. I know you’re busy on the weekends, so I’ll try to have this wrapped up so you can reopen on Friday. If not Friday, then Tuesday.” Finn knew we were closed on Sundays and Mondays.
“Okay,” Tara
said. “I’d hate to be closed for a whole week and would greatly appreciate it if the team could be done in time for us to open for the weekend, though I do understand that you need to protect the crime scene. I hope you find out who did it.”
“Yeah. Me too. If you think of anything at all that could be relevant call or text me.”
The cat that had alerted me to Paula’s body had disappeared as mysteriously as he’d appeared. In my experience, the cats that were linked to murders always stuck around until the killer was found. I supposed if this cat was supposed to help me, he’d find his way to my cabin, so I hugged Tara good-bye and slipped into my car. I wanted to call my boyfriend, Cody West, but he’d been in Tampa Bay working on his training project for the SEALs and would most likely be fast asleep with the time difference. He was due to return to the island on Thursday, and if he knew about the murder he’d just be worried, so I decided to wait until he got back to fill him in. Of course, when he called me even before I got home, I realized I wasn’t the only one on the island he was in touch with. It was probably my sister Siobhan who’d called Cody right after I’d called Finn.
“Hey, Cody,” I answered after pulling over to the side of the road. The thunder and lightning had passed, but it was still pouring rain, which made it much too dangerous to talk and drive at the same time.
“I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m on my way home. Finn is at the bookstore and the crime scene guys were just arriving as I left. I don’t suppose we’ll know anything for a day or two.”
I heard Cody let out a loud sigh. “I wish I could be there with you, but I really can’t leave here until I finish briefing the top brass. Unfortunately, that’s been moved from tomorrow until Thursday, which means I won’t be home until Friday.”
I felt a stab of disappointment but didn’t want to make it harder on him than it already was. “That’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Are you planning on investigating this one?”
I let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I’m hoping Finn will handle it on his own this time. The number of possible suspects is limited to the nine other women in the store at the time of the murder. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find out which of them stabbed Paula.”
“Has a cat shown up?”
“Yes and no. There was a beautiful brown cat in the storeroom when we found the body, but he seems to have disappeared. I’m not sure if he’ll show up again or not. I thought I’d go by to talk to Tansy tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get home and cuddle up by the fire with Max.”
Cody paused before responding. “I can’t believe I’m jealous of a dog.”
I smiled. “Nothing against Max, but I wish it was you I was going to be cuddling with too. I’ve really missed you.”
“I know. Me too. But this will be it until after the first of the year. I feel like we’re almost done despite the fact that things are taking longer than I’d planned. In fact, I hope to have things completely finished by next spring, June at the latest. Once it’s over, I’ll need to train a group to actually implement it. What we’ve come up with is good. Really good. I think we’ll save a lot of lives.”
“Then it’ll all be worth it.” I glanced out the windshield, which was beginning to fog up. “I should get going. I’m sitting on the side of the road in a downpour. I can call you when I get home, or if it’s too late we can just talk tomorrow.”
“No, call me when you get home. I want to make sure you made it safely.”
I hung up and restarted my car, turned the windshield wipers on high and the heater to defrost. Then I pulled slowly back onto the road and limped my way back to my oceanfront cabin on the peninsula, where my Aunt Maggie owned an estate. The Hart family was one of the twelve founding families of Madrona Island, who had divided the land among themselves. One of the plots of land my ancestor ended up with was the center third of the peninsula on the southwest end of the island. To this day, that peninsula is home to three estates, all owned by descendants of the original twelve. Aunt Maggie owned the middle third and I lived in a guest cabin situated right on the beach. Mr. Parsons lives on the estate to the south of us and Cody, who has been looking out for the elderly man, has an apartment on the third floor of his huge house. To our north was an estate owned by Francine Rivers, who helped to keep an eye on Mr. Parsons when Cody wasn’t around. I checked in on Mr. Parsons on a regular basis too as I always have; in the Hart family, friends are like family and family are friends.
When I arrived at the cabin it was dark, but I could see Max looking out the window. The poor guy. I hated the fact that he’d been home alone while thunder and lightning had put on a show overhead. I got out of the car and ran to the covered porch. I was about to open the door when I noticed the same brown cat I’d seen in the bookstore sitting under the swing.
“How in the heck did you get all the way over here in a storm?”
“Meow.”
I picked the cat up and looked him in the eye. “Never mind. I know there are things that happen that can’t be explained. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Max.”
Chapter 3
Wednesday, October 25
I got up early the next morning to take Max for a run. I’d been so busy lately that the dog hadn’t been getting the attention he deserved. When Cody was in town he would often take Max to work with him at the Madrona Island News, but with him out of town poor Max had been forced to spend the day on his own.
The storm that had battered the island had passed, but I’d heard there was another one on the way. The beach was littered with debris washed up when the high waves pounded the shore. I ran along the water’s edge, where the sand was the firmest, while Max ran ahead of me, chasing the seagulls that had arrived to look for their morning meal.
I paused as a bald eagle flew overhead, watching as he circled a few times and then landed on a branch on top of a tree that hugged the shoreline. He looked so regal as he looked out over the beach in search of his next meal. There were plenty of dead fish up on the shore this morning, so I doubted any of the birds in the area would go hungry.
I was glad I’d decided to take a run this morning. Not only was it good for Max, it was good for me. I’d tossed and turned all night as the image of Paula’s dead body filled my mind despite my best efforts to focus on something else. I’m not sure why it seemed that every murder that occurred on the island somehow involved me, but being plunged into one investigation after another had left me feeling weary. I hoped this one would be wrapped up by Halloween and then, hopefully, I could enjoy Thanksgiving and Christmas with my friends and family without having the violent death of someone I knew and cared about overshadowing the festivities.
I knew Aunt Maggie planned to host Thanksgiving this year because my mom and my sister Cassie were still living in their tiny apartment. There would be eighteen of us for dinner: In addition to myself, Maggie was inviting my mom and her boyfriend Gabe; my two brothers, Danny and Aiden; Cassie and our older sister Siobhan and Finn; Tara and Parker and Amy; Cody, Mr. Parsons, and Francine; Maggie’s best friend Marley; Sister Mary; and, of course, Father Kilian, who wouldn’t be Father Kilian for much longer. He’d retired at the end of May and planned to officially leave the priesthood at the end of the year so he could marry Maggie the following spring. I was really looking forward to having everyone I loved together to give thanks for all we had.
I wanted to see Tansy that morning, so I called Max back from the wave he was chasing. I loved this time of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and the day held the promise of endless possibilities. There’s something about watching the sun rise in the sky as the ocean laps onto the shore that calms the mind and feeds the soul in a way little else can. I felt very blessed to live on the beautiful island of my birth and gave thanks every day for the richness I found in life and the people I’d been given to share it with.
I was almost back to the cabin when I noticed something floatin
g in the water. It looked like a glass ball, and at first I thought it was a glass fisherman’s float. I’d found a lot of those over the years in a variety of colors. But then I realized the size as well as the color of the orb was different. Although the water was freezing, I took off my shoes, rolled up my pants, and waded out to retrieve it. Luckily, it wasn’t that far out, so I was able to retrieve it without getting completely soaked.
******
“The cat’s name is Frank,” Tansy informed me as we shared a pot of tea later that morning.
“Seems like an odd name for a cat.”
Tansy shrugged. “I’m afraid I’m not in charge of these things. All I can tell you is that Frank has been sent to help you figure out what led to Paula Wainwright’s death.”
“We know she was stabbed in the heart with a big old knife. Now we just need to figure out who stabbed her.” I paused to take a sip of my tea.
“Would you like another muffin?” Tansy offered. “I know they’re your favorite.”
“Yes, please.” I wanted to ask how it was Tansy always seemed to have a freshly baked batch of my favorite muffins on hand when I stopped by, but I supposed her answer would be as vague as everything else she said to me. “This case has me feeling unsettled,” I said after accepting the muffin. “There were only twelve people in the bookstore last night, Tara and me, along with Paula, and nine other women. The back door was locked from the inside and if someone had come in through the front we would have seen them from the cat lounge, where the book club was being held. That means one of the other nine women had to have killed Paula. I’ve known all of them for at least a year, many longer. While I can’t claim to know them well, I know them well enough to say none of them strike me as the sort to be a cold-blooded killer. They’re all very nice and seem to get along with one another. Many of them are involved in other groups on the island. The whole thing doesn’t make sense.”
“At times, when faced with an impossible set of circumstances, it’s necessary to question our assumptions.”