Frankencat

by Kathi Daley

  “So what do you think about the idea of Giselle and Henry?” Tara asked after we’d settled onto the deck with our lunch. The waves lapping onto the shore lent a calming effect to the otherwise tense topic we were discussing.

  “Seems unlikely. Not that I really know either Henry or Giselle all that intimately to judge what they may be capable of, but Giselle hasn’t been acting odd in the least around Paula. Come to think of it, Paula hadn’t been acting all that odd either. You would think if she really believed Giselle had broken up her marriage she wouldn’t even have wanted to be in the same room with her.”

  Tara took a sip of her soda. “I had a similar thought. The whole thing doesn’t feel quite right to me. Maybe one of the others will have a different perspective. If one of the book club women did kill Paula someone must have seen something.”

  “I agree. Who should we try to speak to first?”

  “I’m not sure. Almost everyone will be at work. We might catch Martha at home, and if Giselle is off today she might be available to speak to us as well. Let’s start by calling the two of them and take it from there.”

  “Sounds like a plan. So, what do you make of the sticky note we found? If Paula jotted down the name Amber minutes before her death, it seems it must be a clue.”

  “Not necessarily,” Tara countered. “Paula’s death most likely wasn’t even related to her call. If you think about it, the person she called couldn’t have been the killer unless Paula was calling one of the women at the book club meeting, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “That’s true.” I nodded. “Amber probably isn’t a clue, though I’m still curious.”

  “Me too. We’ll keep asking about her. Maybe Paula mentioned her to someone she spoke to that evening. If not, maybe Henry will know.”

  ******

  Martha Grayson wasn’t only at home and not busy when we called but was anxious to speak to us. She’d heard about Paula’s death from Gwen Peterman and had been fretting about it all day. She was the only retired member of the book club and therefore the one with the most time on her hands.

  “Please come in,” Martha said at the door of her small, immaculate home. “I just can’t believe what happened to poor Paula. Who would do such a thing?”

  “We don’t know, but we’re trying to find out,” Tara replied.

  “Let’s sit in the kitchen. I made us some tea to go with the cookies I baked earlier. I haven’t been able to relax a minute since I heard.”

  Tara and I sat down at the small, round table that was placed in a nook just off the kitchen. The cookies were chocolate chip, my favorite, so I took two even though we’d just had lunch.

  “How can I help you?” Martha asked.

  “Tara and I are talking to everyone who was at the meeting last night, trying to find out if anyone saw anything that could help explain what occurred. Paula asked to use the phone in the office shortly after we broke up. Did you happen to notice anyone heading in that direction?”

  “I know folks were using the ladies’ room. I remember seeing Alice, Stephanie, and Rachael heading in that direction at one time or another.”

  “Do you remember seeing everyone else in the main room?” I asked.

  Martha didn’t answer immediately. Finally, she said, “No. I’m sorry; I wasn’t paying attention. I remember you were with Tara in the lounge and Paula going down the hallway. I thought she was going to use the ladies’ room, but I guess she was going to use the phone. Rachael asked me about some books I was donating to the community yard sale and we got to chatting. Barbara and Alice joined us, and then Rachael excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “Do you know for certain that’s where Rachael went?”

  Martha shook her head. “No. I didn’t follow her, if that’s what you mean. Surely you don’t think Rachael…?”

  “Not at this point,” I reassured Martha. “Right now, we’re just trying to map everyone’s movements.”

  “I guess that makes sense. I wasn’t moving around much myself, and because I had no idea what was going to happen I wasn’t paying all that much attention to where everyone was during the break.”

  “Do you specifically remember where anyone else was between the time we decided to take the break and the time the lights went out?” I asked.

  “I saw Jane chatting with Gwen, and it seems I remember seeing Sarah as well.”

  “Had you spoken to Paula at all other than as part of the group discussion?” Tara asked.

  “No. I arrived at the store before she did and joined the others, and then I didn’t speak to her after we broke.”

  “Do you happen to know if she was having any issues with any of the others?” Tara asked.

  “No. It didn’t seem like it to me. Everyone in the group seems to get along with everyone else just fine. One of the reasons I really love our little book club is because we all get along so well. I was in a book club that was held at the home of a woman I know from the library guild a few years back. The books that were selected were very good, but it seemed as if half the conversation centered on gossip and backstabbing rather than the books themselves. I quit after a while. It didn’t seem worth it to go to all the trouble of reading the book and then not talk about it.”

  “That would be frustrating,” I agreed.

  I glanced at Tara, who picked up with the next question. “Had you heard that Paula and her husband had separated?”

  “I’d heard rumors that she was having marital issues, but like I said, I’m not one to pay a lot of mind to rumors. A person’s business is their business.”

  “I agree.” Tara smiled.

  “I just have one last question,” I said. “Do you remember Paula mentioning anyone named Amber?”

  Martha thought about it, then shook her head. “No. Seems I heard Henry has a niece with a similar name, though I’m pretty sure it’s Amelia, not Amber. You can check with him just to be certain.”

  “I will,” I answered. “Can you think of anything else you’d like to share?”

  “Not really. Paula was a nice woman and she didn’t deserve to be hurt that way. I hope you figure out who did it.”

  We left Martha’s and headed to the Driftwood Café. Tara had gotten hold of Giselle on the phone. She’d said she was working that afternoon but things were slow and they had extra help, so she could take a break to speak to us. Giselle really was a beautiful woman. She had thick hair that hung down her back like a drape, although it was pinned up today. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle with mystery when she spoke and her wide smile welcomed you in. I guess I could see why Paula would feel threatened by her if she really did have cause to think Henry was interested in her.

  “How can I help you?” Giselle asked after we’d scooted into a booth in the back.

  “As I mentioned on the phone, Cait and I are talking to all the book club members, trying to figure out exactly what happened last night,” Tara began.

  “I’m still having a hard time believing it’s all real. It seems impossible to believe that one of the women from book club killed Paula. There has to be another explanation.”

  “We hope so,” Tara said. “But for now, the women who were at the meeting are all we have to go on. We’re most interested in everyone’s movements after we decided to take a break.”

  Giselle bowed her head. “I hate to admit it, but I slipped out for a smoke.”

  “But it was windy and there was lightning all around.”

  “I know, but when I get the craving it won’t wait. I’ve tried to quit a bunch of times, but so far, the damn habit is winning the battle. Look, I know it seems crazy that I would go out in a storm to smoke, but that’s exactly what I did. It was windy and the sky was filled with streaks of light, but it was barely raining by that point, so I plastered myself against the wall under the overhang. I came in when the lights inside went out. The sky opened up about ten seconds later. I didn’t kill Paula, but I didn’t see anything either.”

&nb
sp; I glanced at Tara, who shrugged.

  “Did anyone come outside while you were smoking?” I asked.

  “No. Not a single person. I don’t think anyone else in the group smokes.”

  I decided to change things up a bit and asked Giselle about her impression of the sort of relationship Paula had with the others in the group.

  “Look, I think I know where you’re going with this,” Giselle answered. “I spoke to Jane earlier. I know Paula accused me of having an affair with her husband. As if!” Giselle’s face hardened. “I have plenty of men in my life. I certainly don’t need to complicate things by messing around with a married man. I don’t know where Paula got that idea, but it’s absolutely not true.” Giselle glanced at her watch. “I should get back. I really hope you figure out who did it, but it wasn’t me.”

  “One thing before you go,” I threw out. “Did Paula ever mention someone named Amber to you?”

  Giselle narrowed her gaze. “No. Paula and I got along okay, but we weren’t exactly friends. We rarely said a word to each other outside the book club discussion. If this Amber person is important you might ask Joy Holiday.”

  Joy owned a local toy store. “Joy and Paula were friends?”

  “I’m not sure how close they were, but I’ve seen Joy and Paula meet here for lunch a few times. I think they’re both part of the community theater group.”

  “Okay, I’ll give her a call. Can you think of anyone else we should speak to?”

  Giselle shrugged. “Not really. Paula was nice enough, but she was a little odd. I don’t think she had a lot of friends outside of the ones she made in either the book club or the community theater group. I kind of felt bad for her. Although Joy made a point of spending time with her, she mentioned to me once that Paula was a lonely woman who wasn’t all that close to her husband, had no children or other family she knew of, and never found her niche on the island.”

  “Thank you for sharing that, and for taking time to speak to us.”

  Tara and I went out to her car. “So what do you think?” she asked.

  “On one hand Giselle doesn’t have an alibi. She said she was outside alone and didn’t speak to anyone during the time when Paula most likely was stabbed.” I made a mark next to her name but didn’t cross if off. “On the other hand it seemed like she was telling the truth. I guess we can ask the others if any of them saw Giselle either going out or coming back in after we lost power.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Alice Jones texted me while we were chatting with Giselle,” Tara informed me. “She gets off in an hour and we can come by her house in about ninety minutes if we want. In the meantime, I want to stop by The Bait and Stitch. I need some ribbon for Amy’s costume.”

  Chapter 7

  The Bait and Stitch is a unique shop owned by my Aunt Maggie and her best friend and business partner Marley Donnelly. It was created to blend Maggie’s passion for fishing with Marley’s passion for quilting. Both women loved to sew, so they’d allocated one room in the shop for a quilting room and, more often than not, the large circular table in it was occupied by the local gossips who made sure the residents of Madrona Island were informed with the latest news, be it fact or fiction.

  When Tara and I arrived the hens were gathered to discuss the island’s latest murder mystery.

  “Oh Cait, I heard what happened.” Maggie got up, crossed the room, and gave me a firm hug. “I’m so very sorry. How are you, dear?”

  “I’m fine,” I said as Maggie turned her attention to Tara, who also received a hug.

  “Do they know who did it?” asked Doris Rutherford, the queen bee of the gossip group.

  “Not yet,” I responded. “Finn is working on it and the crime scene team from the county came by last night. Hopefully, we’ll know something in a day or two.”

  “I understand everyone who was at the book club meeting is considered a suspect,” Marley commented.

  “I guess, to a degree. The back door to the store was locked from the inside and anyone coming or going through the front door would have been seen through the windows separating the seating area and cat lounge from the bookstore and coffee bar. I know it doesn’t seem possible that one of the book club women could be guilty, but that’s how it looks. Have any of you heard anything we should know?”

  The women all looked among themselves. I had a feeling they knew something but were trying to decide whether they should tell us about it. I waited patiently, realizing it was a physical impossibility for the quilting gang not to spill the beans regarding even the smallest piece of gossip.

  “You know I’m not one to gossip,” Doris began. “But I have a friend who told me that she learned from a friend of a friend that Paula Wainwright and Rachael Steinway almost came to blows in the alley behind the bank a few days ago.”

  Rachael worked as an account manager at the bank, but I wasn’t sure if she handled Paula’s personal accounts. “Was Paula a customer of the bank?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Doris said, “but I know Paula temped there for two weeks when the girl who works the merchant window went on her honeymoon. If I had to guess I’d say Paula, the temporary employee, ruffled the feathers of Rachael, the account manager. Of course, I have no idea why, but I figured given what’s happened you might want to know.”

  “I do want to know. Thank you for sharing. So far nothing we’ve learned is fitting together quite right, but you never know when a small detail could pull everything together.”

  “I figured you stopped by to pick our brains,” Doris commented.

  “Actually, we stopped by so Tara could buy some ribbon. The tip was just a happy bonus.”

  Marley popped up from her chair and turned to Tara. “What color ribbon can I help you find?”

  “Black and orange. Amy is going to be a Halloween spider.”

  I joined the women at the table while Tara and Marley looked at ribbon samples. Much to Maggie’s dismay, I had decided at a very early age that I hated to sew. Both Siobhan and Cassie shared my disdain for the activity and Maggie had never had daughters of her own, so she frequently complained that she didn’t have anyone to share one of her favorite pastimes with.

  “Will Cody be home in time for the Halloween Festival this weekend?” Maggie asked.

  “He should be here on Friday. Hopefully, nothing will come up to keep him from arriving on time; we both volunteered to work the haunted house on Saturday.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check it out, but I hear it’s the spookiest one yet,” Doris said.

  “There was even a protest by the preschool board that it wasn’t as family-friendly as it once was,” one of the other women commented. “Personally, I think if it’s a haunted house it should be scary. The library is offering story time for the younger kids and the elementary school is hosting a kiddie carnival as well.”

  “It seems the island has activities for all age groups,” I agreed. “St. Patrick’s is hosting a chili feed on Saturday evening, the high school is having a dance on the thirty-first, and the senior center is holding a dance for adults of all ages, although the music’s going to be ballroom, so I’m thinking it will be the over-fifty crowd that will attend.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, any dancing that isn’t ballroom isn’t really dancing,” one of the women spoke up.

  “What about ballet and tap?” another woman asked.

  “Well, sure, that’s dancing, but I was referring to the crazy moves the younger generation is in to. Most of it seems to consist of flaying your arms and legs around the room in a random fashion.”

  “I’ve seen some pretty amazing things on those talent shows,” another woman countered.

  “Did you catch Dancing with the Stars last week?” Doris said. “All I can say is, what were they thinking?”

  I tried to listen, but I found myself tuning out. By the time the women at the table had finished discussing the merits of differing music and dancing styles, Tara had finished her shopping and
we said our good-byes.

  “What was that all about?” Tara asked as we headed to her car.

  “Dancing. Are you and Parker planning to attend any of the dozen or so dances and parties being held in the area this weekend?”

  “He’s on call on Halloween, but we might go out on Saturday. I know there are several things going on in town. Maybe you and Cody should double date with us.”

  “That would be fun. We’re working the haunted house until eight, but maybe we can meet you somewhere after.”

  “That would be perfect. We’re taking Amy to the kiddie carnival at the school, but Parker mentioned getting a sitter so we could have some adult time too. I’ll talk to him about it and let you know.” Tara put her key in her car door and opened it. “So, on to Alice’s place?”

  “Yeah. It should be about time.”

  ******

  Alice Jones was married with two children and worked as a teacher’s aide. She and her family lived in a small but charming home on the south end of Harthaven. Alice was about the same age as we were, though unlike us, she hadn’t grown up on the island. I didn’t know her well, but I did enjoy the time we spent together at book club. She was a very sweet and seemingly caring individual who I thought spread happiness wherever she went.

  “Perfect timing,” Alice said as she greeted us at the front door. “Timmy and Tammy are down for their naps, so we should be able to chat without interruption. Can I get you some iced tea? I’m afraid all I have is plain. My husband finished off the sweet tea when he came home for lunch. I have sugar, so you can add it to the plain tea if you’d like.”

  “Plain is fine,” I said.

  Tara agreed and we followed Alice into the small kitchen.