03-Keeping Mum

by Alyse Carlson

  When Evangeline arrived, Cam filled her in. “It will be so much easier than having the same conversation with a dozen different people, each wanting to add their own thoughts.”

  Evangeline thought it was a great idea and started to head to her office.

  “Wait! I forgot to ask what you found out from Melvin.”

  “You mean before that fiasco of a rescue?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “I was brilliant, actually. I told him a mutual friend had told me Elle didn’t lose anything. I asked how that was possible. He said Derrick must have known something and passed on the information to his wife or son-in-law.”

  “Which is what Elle said really happened,” Cam said. “Shoot. Looks like another dead end. So what was the ‘tied up and helpless’ bit about?”

  “What Melvin said about his connection who’d gotten him into this. It was why they couldn’t move the money—just a metaphor.”

  Cam sighed. She began trying to schedule the planning meeting, which it turned out only changed her headache from event details to coordinating a dozen schedules during the holiday season. By noon, she was ready to murder several people herself, so she left the building and walked to Sweet Surprise.

  “I need chocolate, caffeine, and sugar in the same bite,” she said when she walked in. It was what she always said if she was up for a cupcake. The chocolate mocha fudge cupcake was her favorite.

  “You’ll have to frost it yourself. Somebody bought me out during lunch so I’ve baked some more, but they’re still cooling,” Annie said.

  “I can play with frosting.”

  “Rob says you’re more of an artist.”

  “Oh, stop it.” Annie’s innuendos always made her blush.

  “Can we all do the Scooby thing tonight?” Annie said.

  “Scooby?”

  “Yeah, like on Buffy—where we all get together and crime-solve . . . or monster-solve, but whatever. It’s been too crazy a week and I need some Scooby time.”

  Cam laughed. “Okay, Scooby time it is.”

  “And your price of eating that cupcake is frosting the whole batch.”

  “Fair enough.” Frosting was fairly mindless, and Cam knew she could use the downtime. “It smells great. What’s in the oven?”

  “Pumpkin! I’ve got so many Thanksgiving orders! Some for tomorrow and a ton for Wednesday. In fact, come to think of it, we ought to meet here tonight so I can keep going on my pumpkin fest.”

  “That sounds good.”

  The break gave Cam the energy she needed to get back to musical schedules. Unfortunately, an afternoon call from her dad unraveled everything.

  “Sunshine? We’ve run into another snag.”

  “Uh-oh. What is it?”

  “Vi had to turn in her cell phone records and . . . I guess there are some questionable calls. She doesn’t want to answer me about what they are, but I’m really worried.”

  “Do you want to meet us at Sweet Surprise tonight—Annie, Rob, Jake, and me?”

  “Oh. You kids have plans!”

  “No. Seriously. They’re crime-solving plans. Annie called us the Scoobies.”

  “Like from Buffy!”

  “How did you and Annie watch that and I totally missed it?”

  “You were away at college.”

  “Annie and I went to college together.”

  “Yeah, but Annie and I liked to talk about Buffy sometimes.”

  “Doesn’t that seem like . . . an odd choice for a man your age?”

  “I wasn’t my age then. This was a dozen years ago. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve always loved tough little girls.”

  Cam laughed. She’d never been particularly tough, but her dad had treated her like she could conquer anything. It wasn’t true at all physically, but his attitude had contributed to her confidence and drive in other areas. Petunia had taken the challenge in the more physical sense, which annoyed Cam. By the time she was about fifteen and her little sister had caught her in size, it scared her, as Petunia could out-wrestle her on any disagreement.

  “So come join the Scoobies,” she said.

  “I think I will! Maybe I’ll bring y’all a pizza.”

  “Good idea.”

  • • •

  • • •

  When Cam hung up, she tried to envision what sort of people Vivian could have been in contact with that she’d be too embarrassed to admit to her dad. He was a pretty open-minded guy. Surely Vivian knew that. If she really did know Cam’s dad, as Cam thought she did, then the things Vivian would be embarrassed about would be vanity related—but then the police wouldn’t care about those. They would hardly have called her out over a waxing appointment or a Botox treatment—not that Vivian appeared to be a Botox woman.

  Cam finally just created an availability survey online for the meeting she was trying to coordinate for work and sent it to all the people who needed to be there. She would check it in a few days and schedule the meeting on the date the most people could make it and be done with it. She wondered what people had done before the internet made such things possible.

  She then justified an hour online perusing winter gardens to see if she could bring some fresh, attractive ideas when they had the meeting. She was relieved to end the day with no more in-person conversations.

  “You look exhausted,” Evangeline said as she was leaving.

  “I’ve been herding cats since nine this morning.”

  “I saw your emails. It’s a bad season to try to plan meetings. We probably should have thought of this in October, but . . .”

  “We were doing this fund-raiser, so it wouldn’t have fit,” Cam finished.

  “That fund-raiser never should have gobbled Roanoke Garden Society time, much less yours.”

  “It worked out okay for me. I would have helped Annie anyway—she’s helped me enough times.”

  “I envy you girls’ friendship. I never had girlfriends like that.”

  “You’re welcome to hang out with us any time.”

  Evangeline laughed. “You’re sweet. You’re at a different life stage than I am, so it wouldn’t fit. And I love my time with Neil. I think the pageants just created such a phony atmosphere that the women I spent time with never truly bonded. I have several people I’m fond of, but there was never any real trust.”

  Cam frowned, as something had struck her. The women at the funeral and Vera Windermere . . . there had been something familiar about her.

  “Was Vera Windermere a pageant girl?”

  “She was! I was actually a junior host when she was in the Little Miss Begonia, and I volunteered the year she did the Miss Dogwood.”

  “So she would know you?”

  “Not well.”

  “Okay, just tell me to go away if I’m imposing on you, but her father was killed last week and her husband this weekend. Both men were murdered, and . . . I think she’s having an affair and I was wondering . . .”

  “What, if I could call an almost stranger and probe into her personal life?” Evangeline was teasing, but it was the kind of teasing that showed she was worried Cam might have been that delusional.

  “Nothing nearly so intrusive. I wondered . . . if you knew where she hangs out.”

  “Well, I see her at the country club. Their family membership is lifetime, I believe. I’ve seen her in the pool there.”

  “The pool?”

  “Yes. She swims.”

  “I knew what the pool was for,” Cam joked. “What I didn’t know was if you might get me a few guest passes.”

  “Do you swim?”

  “Not well. Rob swam in high school—well, played water polo, actually. Swimming interfered with baseball. I thought maybe we could pretend he was helping me improve.”

  “Well, I’m happy to do that. Helping the two of you run into her is no problem at all.”

  “Perfect! Thank you!”

  • • •

  • • •

  Cam felt like things were
perking up as she made her way back to Sweet Surprise. She stopped at Sumdat Farm Market on the way and bought a couple of bottles of wine and a six-pack of seasonal beer. There were a dozen takeout places near Sweet Surprise for whatever they needed to supplement pizza for dinner, but beer and wine was a decision she could make on her own.

  She went into Sweet Surprise through the back door, as the customer door had been locked for the day. Annie was covered in flour, but she looked content. She was in baking Zen. Cam had seen it before.

  “Hey there,” Cam said as she set down her purchase.

  “Hey yourself. Open one of those bad boys.”

  Cam laughed. “Hey. How did I not know about you and my dad watching Buffy together?”

  Annie mumbled something akin to “I don’t know,” then swallowed whatever she had in her mouth. “He let me set up that darkroom in your basement, remember? The lab at school was impossible to get at reasonable hours, and I was doing my best to separate from Daddio. And then Mom said it stank. Your dad was a superstar.”

  “The details I missed,” Cam pondered.

  “You were Miss Club Fiend. I think our Buffy night was when you and your mom were both at that community gardening club, ’cause she was gone, too.”

  Cam found the corkscrew and the cups—after the last fiasco, they’d settled on sturdy plastic cups, even for wine. It was easier not to have to stop and sweep and mop in the middle. Besides, the wineglass set was getting thin.

  Cam opened the bottle of merlot, Annie’s favorite.

  “When do Jake and Rob get here?”

  “Jake, not until six, but Rob stopped by already and I sent him for food.”

  “Oh, good work. I’m starving. Though when my dad comes, he’s bringing a pizza.”

  “Pizza goes with everything,” Annie said.

  “And I could use a little extra,” Cam said.

  Annie stopped mid-frosting to stare at her. “Since when?”

  “Since I learned I need to go swimming tomorrow. That takes a ton of energy.”

  “Have to? Why don’t I ever have to do things like that? I love to swim.”

  Cam had sort of forgotten that. Annie had swum circles around her in the pool as kids. It helped that Annie’s house had a pool, but Annie loved the water. Cam didn’t dislike it but was more cautious, not to mention modest and worried about sunburn.

  “Vera Windermere-Sullivan swims at the country club pool nearly daily, according to Evangeline. Evangeline gave me some passes, so we can watch and then go in when she does.”

  “You and me?”

  “I was thinking me and Rob because of your job. Evangeline thought she’d do it early—like before noon, but thanks.”

  Annie stuck her pouty lower lip out just as Rob returned with what looked like burgers, though Cam was sure Rob knew Annie would want a garden burger and she would want a chicken sandwich. They’d spent enough time together to know each other’s preferences.

  “Why is Annie pouting?” he asked.

  “She has to work while we go swimming,” Cam said.

  “I can’t swim,” Rob said. “I have a new tattoo.”

  “What?” Cam shouted, her eyes popping.

  “Kidding. I just wanted to see that.”

  Annie snorted loudly. “Nice one! Though you really could use a tattoo. I saw a great steampunk one where you’d look like your skin was peeling and you were a robot underneath . . .”

  “Nice!” Rob said.

  “Stop it! Both of you!” Cam was squeamish about needles and didn’t really like tattoos anyway, but the idea of somebody actively getting one really turned her stomach.

  Annie and Rob guffawed.

  “You two aren’t supposed to gang up on me,” Cam said.

  “You think this is ganging up? Ganging up is when we both tackle-tickle you,” Annie said.

  “Which we plan to do later,” Rob said.

  “Okay, no more bonding time for the two of you!” Cam shouted, which made them laugh all the harder. Finally Cam couldn’t help but join them.

  When they stopped, she explained the plan to get near Vera, and her idea that Rob could give Cam swimming pointers.

  “Then maybe I could get frustrated and ask for her help instead,” Cam said.

  “Or I could flirt with her. I’m a whole lot better looking than Chad Phillips.”

  “Smarter, too,” Annie said.

  “I think power is her drug,” Cam said.

  “So I make up a pedigree.”

  “You really are set on pretending to be one of these silver-spooned playboys, aren’t you?” Cam said.

  “I might be. I’d love to test whether I can do undercover or not.”

  The idea finally hit Cam for what it was. It wasn’t acting or playing around. He wanted to test himself as a reporter. “That’s sort of hot.”

  “You didn’t think it was hot before,” he said.

  “I didn’t understand why you wanted to. It just seemed dangerous. Now it’s more like . . . Woodward and Bernstein.”

  “Only taller,” he said.

  “That’s an illusion created by Dustin Hoffman,” Annie said.

  Cam laughed. She didn’t know if the reporters were tall or short, but the assessment amused her.

  “Okay. We fight. You flirt. I storm off. You see what you can find out. But no following through,” Cam said.

  “Got it.”

  “And if she’s with anyone, we’re back to my plan. She won’t want to seem like she’s flirting when her husband and father both recently passed.”

  “I forgot about that. Do you think she’ll even talk to me?” Rob asked.

  “My money is on yes,” Annie said. “But go with a Speedo just in case.”

  Cam glared at Annie.

  • • •

  • • •

  Jake arrived a little while later. His burger had cooled, but he was happy to disarm and eat and drink. He sat contentedly at the table and looked at the other three.

  “So . . . how’s it going?” Jake said.

  Cam was on her third glass of wine by then, and was a notorious lightweight, so this struck her as funny. She leaned over to Annie and stage-whispered, “Does he know?”

  Rob looked annoyed, but Annie didn’t miss a stride.

  “No. And it won’t be a surprise if you tell him.” She made it sound like they had been talking about some grand adventure rather than the snooping about Vera they planned to do. Jake was used to Annie and liked surprises, so he just grinned.

  “So how’s the investigation going?” Rob asked. “You ever follow up with those poker guys?”

  “One of them. He said it was personal. The wife—Sullivan’s wife—was mentioned, but it’s hard to say.”

  “Does he know about the affair?” Cam whispered.

  Jake narrowed his eyes. “What affair?”

  Rob shook his head. “Cam can’t hold her liquor.”

  “It’s wine,” she said.

  Annie snorted.

  “What affair?” Jake repeated.

  “There is an unconfirmed rumor,” Rob said, leering at Cam, “that Vera Windermere-Sullivan is having an affair with Chad Phillips—that she wanted to leave her husband, but her father objected.”

  “And where would this rumor come from?” Jake asked.

  “Cam and I attended the funeral—out of respect, of course. Vera’s mother—Derrick’s ex-wife—might have said something to that effect. There was definitely a scene between Chad Phillips and Len Sullivan.”

  “Lenny was there?”

  “He’s sort of family,” Annie said. “His brother’s father-in-law died—it isn’t such a stretch it was expected he would be there. Especially as his own brother also just died.”

  “Your dad and Elle were there,” Rob said to Annie, “probably for the same reason, though they didn’t stick around for the reception.”

  “And the two murders were probably connected,” Jake said.

  “Makes so much more sense than V
ivian Macy as a suspect,” Cam said.

  Rob pinched her.

  On cue, her dad knocked at the back door.

  “Well it does!” Cam said as she let her dad in, trying her best to sober herself when she realized who it was.

  Jake narrowed his eyes at Cam. “What do you care about Vivian Macy?” he asked.

  “She’s an old friend of my parents,” Cam said.

  “And a fine woman,” her dad said softly.

  “That doesn’t mean she didn’t have means, motive, and opportunity.”

  “Though the fact that she didn’t actually have opportunity does,” Cam said.

  She caught Rob smirking and her dad grinning. She was glad he seemed not to care that she was obviously tipsy.

  “It’s true,” Annie said. “Solid alibi for both murders.”

  “She isn’t the kind of person to get her own hands dirty. She was in contact with a suspected hit man,” Jake said.

  “What?” Cam blurted.

  “Brian Fontana. Calls her on a regular basis.”

  “And he’s a hit man?”

  Cam’s dad was shaking his head.

  “Suspected,” Jake said.

  “But not in jail? Like . . . you don’t actually know . . .” Cam said.

  “He makes problems go away.”

  “Like a security guard?” Cam said.

  “That’s his title, according to Vivian Macy, yes.”

  “Why on earth would you think he’s a hit man?”

  “People have a habit of disappearing when they bother one of his clients.”

  “But nothing can be proven?”

  “Not yet,” Jake looked annoyed.

  “This sounds like we just need to ask him,” Annie said.

  “I don’t know that that’s necessary,” Cam’s dad said. “He and she talk because they’re family. He’s a nephew. Nothing suspicious in talking to a nephew. And he is a security guard, so when she has events, she hires him. But that’s not so strange—when you need something done, hire a family member.”

  Jake stared. He clearly hadn’t realized he was in the middle of the Vivian Macy fan club.

  “Maybe we just find a couple of these people rumored to have disappeared,” Cam said.