I picked up a cup of punch from the table. The punch smelled strongly of alcohol, much stronger than I was accustomed to. It wasn’t something I would drink before getting behind the wheel of a car, and I would be driving Ina and me home later that night. I thought it would look rude to slide it back on the table, so I just held it. “Have you been full members of the co-op long?”
Ansel shook his head, causing his dark curls to bounce in tandem. “No, not in comparison to David or Tess. I joined three years ago, and when did you join, Car?”
She bent the edge of the plastic cup with her long manicured nail. “Just after you. The co-op was expanding at the time, and we were the two selected.”
“That’s right. I remember now. There was some stiff competition. I think ten or so talented artists were finalists. We were lucky enough to be the ones chosen.”
“They must have been impressed with your work,” I said.
Carrington laughed. “I don’t know about that. I think they were impressed with our client lists. Ansel and I each had quite a loyal following before we joined the cooperative. Since members contribute a portion of their earnings to the co-op at large, they wanted to select artists they knew would bring in good money.” She paused and continued to pick at the rim of her cup. “Not that I am complaining. The advantages of being a member here far outweigh the disadvantages. I would never be able to afford the kind of studio space I have here or the networking reach to gather more clients. For me, it’s been a great move.”
“Me, too,” Ansel agreed.
“Jerry mentioned he recently joined, too.”
Carrington wrinkled her nose. “He joined about two years ago.”
Ansel brow furrowed. “Car, you voted like almost everyone else to let him in.”
“Of course, I did. As a blacksmith, Jerry could pull in some major commissions the rest of us could never dream of, and it’s what Tess wanted. We all did it for her even if we didn’t much care for him.”
“I think the vote was five to one in favor of adding Jerry.”
“Oh that’s right. Celeste was adamantly against it.”
“Celeste Berwyck?” I asked, as if there might be another Celeste in New Day Artists Cooperative.
Ansel nodded.
“Did Celeste say why she didn’t want Jerry to join?”
“I don’t think she ever did. Do you, Car?”
Carrington shook her head.
Ansel ran a hand through his brown curls, causing them to spring in all directions. “I suspected the other members knew, though. All the full members beside Car and me go way back. I don’t know the details, but I think there is a lot of emotional baggage there.”
“I don’t want to know,” Carrington said. “I don’t have room in my life for their drama.”
“I’m sure you will miss Tess around here,” I said.
Ansel frowned. “Oh, we will. She was just a bright spirit. She was always so upbeat.”
“She was nice to have around even though her cheerfulness got a little old at times,” Carrington said.
“Car—”
“Well, it did,” she said matter-of-factly.
Ansel shook his head.
“It’s awful what happened to her. The police are saying she was murdered,” I said.
“I heard that,” Ansel said. “It’s hard to believe. Despite the fact Car thought her cheerfulness annoying.” He shot the milliner a look. “Everyone liked Tess. I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt her.”
“She shouldn’t have stayed on campus alone after the festival closed.” Carrington sipped from her cup and made a face at the taste. “That practice field is so far on the edge of campus it can’t be as well monitored as the main quad.”
“I heard she was meeting someone. Do either of you know who that might be?” I asked.
Ansel’s eyebrows rose. “Beats me.”
“Me, too,” Carrington agreed before taking another sip of her drink.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I said my goodbyes to Ansel and Carrington, discreetly deposited my full punch cup in a wastebasket, and went in search of Ina. It was getting late, and I was ready to go home and stew over everything I’d learned. I found Ina with a half-empty punch cup in hand, standing in the middle of the three beaders near the barn’s main entrance.
“Your pal here can really drink,” Jendy said with reverence. “I hope I can toss them back like that when I’m her age.” Jendy straightened her dress. I noted she’d traded her pioneer frock and buckle shoes for a sweater dress and calf-high leather boots.
Beth wrinkled her nose.
“Jendy, really,” Celeste said. I looked at Celeste closely. It was the first time I’d seen her, or any of the beaders for that matter, outside of the pioneer garb and in normal street clothes. Celeste wore elastic waist jeans and an oversized pullover sweater. Her hair was pulled back from her face by a bead-covered barrette, and a long beaded necklace hung from her neck. She looked normal enough, but her gaze flicked around the room as if she were looking for someone.
Ina grabbed my arm. “We’re having the loveliest time, India. Celeste told me she and Jerry were engaged.”
I was glad I’d already thrown out my drink because if it had been in my hand I’d have dropped it. “Engaged?” I squeaked.
Celeste blushed. “It was a long time ago. A lifetime really.”
Ina peered at her. Her look was sharp. I suspected she was not nearly as drunk as the beaders thought. As Ina says, every Irish woman should be able to drink her weight in Irish whiskey without falling down. She takes a nip, as she says, of whiskey every night before bed. “How interesting you ended up working at the same co-op. Did you start together when you were engaged?”
Celeste cleared her throat. “No, I joined long before Jerry did.”
Ina cocked her head. “Oh, well, you must have parted on good terms if you can work so closely together.”
Beth pointed at the buffet table. “Oooh, look at that cheesecake, Celeste. It looks delicious. You like cheesecake, don’t you? Let’s get a piece.”
“I’m not hungry,” Celeste snapped.
Ina cocked her head the other way. “Did Jerry and Tess join at the same time?”
“No. Tess has been a member from the start along with David and me.”
“Hmmm . . .” Ina said.
I was afraid Ina was playing her part a little too dumb, but I decided to let her finish.
“So Tess married Jerry after the co-op started.”
Celeste nodded.
To herself, Beth was muttering about the cheesecake, as if Celeste might change her mind and eat it. I suspected Beth wanted to get Celeste out of Ina’s clutches. Beth was nobody’s fool.
“That must have been awkward,” Ina said.
Beth stepped on Jendy’s foot. “Ouch,” the younger woman yelped. Apparently those boots weren’t as thick as they appeared. She shot daggers at Beth with her eyes. Beth raised her eyebrows back.
“Celeste,” Jendy said. “You promised to show us those new beads you flamed this week before we left. The ones with the semiprecious stone set on the inside.”
Celeste’s face cleared. “Oh, that’s right. Let’s go look now. They turned out beautifully.”
“You wouldn’t mind if India and I joined, would you?” Ina asked. Beth looked like she wanted to kick Ina, but before she could object Ina said, “I’m looking for a present for my niece’s birthday. A bead necklace with her birthstone would be just the thing. She loves folk art.”
Let it be known that Ina was an only child and does not and never has had a niece. The lie slipped off her tongue like sweet Irish cream. Ina had never been to Ireland, but she surely did not need to kiss the Blarney stone to tell a story, be it true or false.
Celeste smiled. “What’s her birthstone?”
I bit the inside of my lip.
Ina looked at the ceiling as if trying to think. “You know I can’t remember. I’m sure I’ll be able to recall it
when I look at the stones.”
“I don’t have all the birthstones set in beads. I only have semiprecious stones. None of the precious stones like diamonds or rubies.”
Ina smiled wide. “Oh, it’s definitely not a diamond or ruby. I’d have remembered right off if it had been one of those.”
Beth cleared her throat. “We wouldn’t want you to have to look at the beads if your niece’s birthstone isn’t among them. We can figure out her birthstone very easily. In what month was she born?”
Ina gave everyone in the group a sheepish grin in turn. Her impish face was endearing; I knew better than to trust it. “I’m sure I will remember that, too, when I see the beads. Celeste, if you will lead the way.”
Five minutes later, Ina, the three beaders, and I stood in Celeste’s horse stall–cum–studio space peering down at her worktable. The table was covered with a black cloth to show the beads to their best advantage. The beads sat in a black velvet–lined case. The stones were enveloped in clear glass and looked like drops of rainbow-sprinkled rain. They varied in size from my pinkie nail to my thumb nail.
Ina pointed at a garnet bead. “That’s the one. That’s Suzy’s birthstone.”
Great, now her fake niece had a name, I thought.
Beth smiled. “Oh, she’s an April birthday then. It must be nice to have a birthday in the spring.”
Ina said triumphantly, “Oh, no, the garnet is January’s birthstone. My niece was born on January ninth. How could I have forgotten?” She grinned and held up her drink. “I best take it easy on any more of these, huh?”
Beth looked like she wanted to pinch Ina, and Jendy looked like she was ready to burst out laughing.
With tweezers Celeste picked up the garnet bead from the case, and it twinkled as it caught the light. Celeste placed the bead on the black cloth and began choosing beads to be placed with it.
“Your beads are gorgeous, Celeste,” I said, ogling them.
She smiled.
“You mentioned before that Jerry was the one who taught you to use a blowtorch.”
She frowned. “Yes. He taught me many years ago when we were together.” Her brow creased. “He’d have been much better off if he’d married me instead of Tess.”
“Celeste,” Beth said, clearly horrified. She looked over her shoulder as if to make sure no one else overheard.
Celeste crossed her arms, still holding the tweezers in her hand. “He didn’t need all the drama Tess and her family brought. He’s usually so punctual, but these last three weeks, he was behind on a huge commission.”
“Is that the gate he’s working on? I saw part of it in the smithy. It’s gorgeous,” Jendy said.
Ina yawned. This, too, I suspected was for show. She was an impressive little actress when she wanted to be. “Why’d you break up?”
Celeste clenched her jaw. “I don’t think that really matters, now does it?”
Ina, all innocence, cocked her little bird head full of white soft grandma curls. “If Tess was the reason for the breakup, I would say, yes, it does matter.”
“We broke up long before Tess and Jerry met, and she was married then. Now, about the necklace,” Celeste said. “It starts at fifty dollars and goes up from there. However, since this is my first necklace with this type of semiprecious stone bead, I really want it to be seen. Would your niece wear it often?”
Ina fingered the beads as if seriously considering purchasing a necklace for her fictitious niece. “I’m sure she’d wear it every day.”
Celeste grinned. However, what Ina said next made her face fall. “Let me think about it, and I’ll call you about the necklace. Do you have a business card I can have?”
Celeste reached into her straw purse and produced a card. She handed it to Ina. Ina tucked the card in her colossal tote bag. We said good night to the beaders and headed to the exit.
As we stumbled through the parking lot to the lawn where I had parked, a now completely sober Ina whispered how jealous her friend Juliet would be, having missed the party. “I play a pretty good drunk, don’t I?” she asked.
“You were a casting director’s dream,” I said. As I spoke, I noticed a car in the parking lot. It was an old but well-kept sedan, and its interior light was on, illuminating the driver inside. The driver watched the party as it slowly emptied out, and I locked eyes with him. Mains. He nodded, but I didn’t nod back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“This is way too early,” I told Ina at six the next morning when I met her on our joint front porch. It was still pitch black out, and we only had the porch light to direct us to my car. “I can’t believe you’re not tired at all. It’s not normal. You stayed up as late as I did last night, so you should be tired.”
“Stop complaining. You do want to speak with Debra, don’t you?”
I yawned. “I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Straight from the carafe, please. No. Wait. Intravenously would be best.”
“This was the only time she would agree to. She’s at her wits’ end planning for the funeral.”
“You know, the last time I was up this early, I flew to Europe. I think you shouldn’t get up before six unless you’re about to embark on an international excursion. And even then, it better be a great deal.”
Ina helped me down the steps. “Do you want me to drive?”
“No!” I came wide awake.
I had on hiking boots, jeans, a thick sweatshirt, and hooded jacket, just as Ina had instructed me to wear the night before. Ina wore a similar outfit. “Where are we meeting her?” I started the car.
“In Maple Park on the north side of town.”
“Maple Park? But there’s nothing there except woods and a couple of trails.”
“Debra chose the place. She goes there every morning to do her counting.”
“Counting?” I sensed Ina enjoyed my confusion.
“Bird counting. Debra’s an avid birder. She’s been one for years. She’s even gone on birder vacations to the Galapagos Islands.”
“Haven’t all the birds flown south by now?”
“Not all birds fly south, India,” she said in an exasperated tone.
I yawned and thought of Zach, who was still at my parents’ home. He was much better off there. At least he could wake up at a normal hour. Templeton was happier last night with Zach out of the apartment, but I knew my mother wouldn’t want to keep the labradoodle for long. I made a mental note to call Lew ASAP. I’d wait until the sun came up.
The gravel ground crunched under my tires as the car rolled into the small Maple Park parking lot fifteen minutes later.
A light frost covered the fallen leaves of the trees. The limbs and few remaining leaves on the trees were also covered with frost and looked like they were fringed with gray lace.
There was one other car in the lot and a woman, who looked to be making the downward slide toward sixty, got out of the car. She had steel gray hair, a squat body, and a no-nonsense expression. However, when we got closer, I saw Tess in her face. The sisters had the same small noses and high cheekbones.
“Did you bring your binoculars?” Debra asked without preamble.
Ina held out her pair. “India doesn’t have a pair.”
Maybe because I don’t spy on my neighbors like some people do, I thought.
“I have an extra.” She held out her hand to me, and we shook. “Debra Wagtail. You must be India.”
I nodded. Debra had a mean handshake.
“Let’s go.”
Was it smart to follow a murder suspect into the woods? I wondered.
Debra opened her backpack and pulled out a clipboard. “This is the list of bird names. When you spot a bird, identify it, and mark it on this list.
I nodded. My parents were also birders, so this wasn’t my first bird count. Nor did I think it would be my last if they had any say in the matter, which I hoped they wouldn’t.
“I keep records of the number of birds in these woods just in case.”
“Just
in case of what?” I asked.
“In case they ever decide to turn this last piece of Stripling wilderness into a shopping plaza,” she said with heat.
I wondered if I should introduce Debra to my parents. They’d get along famously.
“We have to be quiet on the inside, so don’t speak louder than a whisper.”
I shot a look at Ina, who was diligently adjusting her binocular strap around her neck. If anyone could spook birds into flight it would be her. Then again, maybe the birds would think Ina was one of the flock, with her baby-bird voice.
Into the woods we went. Our footfalls muffled on the leaf-covered dirt path. The sounds of twittering unseen birds and chattering industrious squirrels preparing for the long winter welcomed us. We continued to walk in silence for a few moments. To the east the sky began to lighten from black, to midnight blue, to gray.
I inched my way up until I was walking beside Debra. She spoke in hushed tones. “Ina tells me you’re investigating my sister’s murder.”
“Derek, her son, is one of my students,” I said.
“Derek’s a sweet boy, if a little odd.”
This seemed to be the general consensus about Tess’s son.
“If you work at the college, then you’ve probably already spoken to my brother.”
“I have.”
“Pompous jerk. You can tell him I called him that, too. There’s no love lost between us.”
“Your brother disagrees with the terms of your uncle Victor’s will and seemed concerned the police will consider that a motive.”
“Why wouldn’t they? Two million dollars is quite a motive, wouldn’t you say, even if you get the dog along with the dough.”
“Just saw a blue jay,” Ina said in a loud whisper.
“Excellent,” Debra loud-whispered back. “Mark your list.” She hopped over a log. “And yes, before you ask, I was upset with Victor’s decision too. I was the one who cared for him in his final illness.”
“He had Parkinson’s?”
“Yes, but he died of pancreatic cancer. It’s a horrible way to go.”
“How awful. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a relief in the end. Uncle Vic was a hard man to live with, and an even harder man to care for.”
Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) Page 13