“Of course we did! You and Jed have done so much for Brett and me. Heavens, we probably would never have gotten married if you hadn’t kept pushing us together, inviting us to the same parties and all. And you gave us that wonderful engagement party! Heavens, I can’t count all the things you’ve done for us. We wanted to give you something nice.”
“Jerry and I felt the same way,” Kathleen added. “You introduced us to each other. On the other hand, I can’t believe you were involved in this much matchmaking. There must be fifty gifts here.”
“Fifty-seven was my count.”
The correction came from behind. Spinning around, they discovered Alvena Twigg standing in the doorway. “I’ll just close this door so we’re not interrupted, shall I?” she twittered, suiting action to words as she spoke. “I’m so glad to see you and your friends, Mrs. Henshaw. My sister and I have been wondering if you were going to show up today. You must have come in the back way?”
“Yes,” Susan admitted.
“Excellent idea. So many problems getting through the foyer with all the policemen and the esteemed members of the press corpse. That’s what my dear father used to call them: the esteemed members of the press corpse.” Smiling, she began to flutter around the room, straightening up a package that had fallen off its pile here and fluffing out a curtain there. Susan, Kathleen, and Erika watched silently.
“Interesting group of people, the esteemed members of the press corpse. Very well dressed as a rule, but such a display of bad manners! Not only are they inclined to shout, but they have no compunction about interrupting each other. And no respect for personal property. We are always having to ask guests to stop sitting on the porch railings—they’re over a hundred years old, after all. So I shouldn’t, perhaps, be surprised by how many of the esteemed members want to perch there. But no one has ever crushed the flowers and hedges like this group. Disgraceful. And they don’t seem to know how to pick up after themselves. They leave coffee cups—half full and likely to be tipped over—in the oddest places; I found two in the pie chest just outside this doorway a few minutes ago! If we give them paper napkins, they toss them on the ground or in the fireplace. Surely anyone can tell we’re not going to start a fire in the middle of August. And if we give them cloth napkins, they toss them in wastebaskets as though they’re disposable. One wonders where—and by whom, oh yes, by whom—these esteemed members of the press corpse were raised.”
Susan blinked and tried to think of something to say.
“Why were you wondering if Susan was going to come here today?” Erika got straight to the point.
“Heavens, because of the murder! Everyone knows that Susan Henshaw investigates murders. Why, when Mrs. Henshaw called to set up an appointment to see the inn, I turned to my sister at that moment—right at that moment—and said, ‘Do you think a visit from Susan Henshaw means we’re going to have a murder here?’ That’s just what I said. And look what happened!” She turned from the hideous watercolor she had been ineffectively straightening and stared at the bed. All three women looked, too. “A body! Just what I was waiting for!”
“You were waiting for a murder to happen? Here?” Susan had no idea what else to say.
“Why are you so surprised? They do sort of follow you around, don’t they?” Alvena Twigg opened her blue eyes wide and peered at Susan over the top of her metal-rimmed glasses.
“I . . . Not really. I just have happened to . . . you know, just been around when someone was killed.” Susan struggled with an explanation that made sense.
Alvena looked startled. “Really? I thought . . . well, I thought it was like being accident prone.”
“You thought Susan was murder prone?”
Susan glanced over at Erika, who seemed to be having a difficult time not laughing.
“I’ve never had anything to do with a murder happening,” Susan protested.
Alvena Twigg looked offended. “Of course not. I’d never think such a thing. It would be cheating!”
“Cheating?” Kathleen repeated the word.
“Yes. I mean, where would be the challenge? If Susan— you don’t mind if I call you Susan, dear, do you?” Alvena continued without giving Susan time to answer. “If Susan killed someone and then investigated, well, what would be the point?”
“Uh, well, that’s true, of course,” Kathleen agreed.
Susan felt obliged to protest again. “I wouldn’t kill anyone!”
“Of course not, because then you couldn’t investigate, could you? At least not legitimately.”
Alvena Twigg had such an earnest expression on her face that Susan decided there was no reason to continue along this line. “I . . .” She glanced at her companions and began again. “We are, of course, wondering who killed Ashley.”
Alvena Twigg leaned closer and lowered her voice. “So you don’t think it was her husband.”
“Well, I really don’t have any idea. . . .”
“But he would be foolish to kill her so soon after her release. It makes him such an obvious suspect, don’t you think?”
“I suppose, but . . .”
“You want to speak to me, of course,” Alvena continued without allowing Susan to finish her thought.
“Yes, we do,” Erika said.
“Although many investigators begin by looking into the victim’s life,” Alvena suggested.
“That’s no problem. The Markses are Susan’s next-door neighbors,” Kathleen explained.
Alvena’s eyebrows rose. “Why, how convenient for you,” she said.
“They moved in less than a year ago. I don’t know them all that well,” Susan explained.
“Of course. There’s really no reason to investigate until the deed is actually done, is there? I often found that to be true when I was working at the school. There were, of course, students who were known to be troublemakers. Every year our doors would open on another class of freshmen, and every year I would look out into the first rows of the auditorium—the classes were seated together, freshmen in front and then sophomores, then juniors, and on up to the seniors in the back of the room.” She stopped speaking and looked at her audience checking to see, apparently, if they were capable of comprehending this complex layout. “And I would look for the troublemakers. You could almost always pick them out. The boys who wore leather—and that was the rule for over four decades. The girls wore too-short skirts, too-tight sweaters, and too much makeup. The actual details changed with the current fashions, but the intent—to attract those bad boys in leather—remained amazingly consistent. Anyway, once I knew who would cause trouble in the coming years I would just sit back and wait for it to happen. Perhaps it’s like that for you?”
Before Susan could think of an answer, the door opened. Apparently she wasn’t going to be given an opportunity to answer. She and her friends were about to be arrested.
ELEVEN
“IF THIS IS THE WAY THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS OF OUR MARRIAGE is going to continue, perhaps I should put a lawyer on retainer. Or possibly Chad could be talked into attending law school after Cornell.”
“Jed, don’t say anything to either of the children! I don’t want them to know I was almost arrested.”
“Hon, it’s a little late to try to keep the last few hours a secret. Chrissy was the first one home today, and she listened to the messages you left on the machine. She tracked me down and told me what had happened.”
“But she wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
“She doesn’t have to. She was accompanied by a half dozen old friends from high school. While it’s possible our exuberant daughter has grown more discreet now that she’s a married woman, my bet is that her friends cannot be depended upon in that regard.”
“Oh, no, that’s right. They were all going to go to that awful dive they used to go to after school for dinner tonight. I’d forgotten. Oh, Jed.” She sighed. “The whole town probably knows by now.”
“I think that’s a good guess. We’ll know more when we g
et home. I left the answering machine on.” They were traveling down the Merritt Parkway. The sun was setting; the forest lining the road was turning black in the dusk; the Mercedes purred. Susan leaned back against the headrest and sighed loudly.
“I cannot believe that idiot hauled us all—except for Alvena Twigg—off to the police station.”
“Apparently Alvena was quick enough to slip out into the hallway when the police showed up. You could have done that, too. You did know you were breaking the law when you entered that room.”
“Oh, Jed, I’ve ignored that Police Line Do Not Cross tape before, and I’ve never been arrested. The problem isn’t what I did. The problem is Chief Peter Konowitz. He even made Erika come.”
“She did cross the police line with you.”
“I know, but she’s married to Brett!”
“I don’t think—”
But Susan was on a roll. “There must be some sort of professional courtesy, don’t you imagine? I mean, threatening to arrest the wife of a fellow chief of police. Well, that’s going a bit far, don’t you think? It’s not as if we’d done something terrible, for heaven’s sake! We were just talking!”
“It’s not what you were doing, it’s where you were doing it,” Jed reminded her.
“Yes, but, Jed, I was in our room! We paid for it—in fact, we paid for two nights, remember? We’re still paying for that room. Did you tell our lawyer that? Does he know that we have a legal right to be there?”
“Susan, I don’t know if that’s true. . . . What are you looking for?”
“My notebook. That lawyer should know that I was in our room. That might make a difference to our case.”
“What case? I understood that you were released with a warning.”
“False arrest. I think we should file a lawsuit. I don’t think he should be allowed to get away with it!” She was on a roll.
“Susan . . .”
“I know what you’re going to say, Jed, and I agree. We wouldn’t want to keep any money we won, of course. I mean, I wouldn’t feel comfortable profiting from a police chief’s stupidity. On the other hand, perhaps we could donate any winnings to Amnesty International. They’re such big supporters of people who are wrongfully imprisoned. That would be appropriate, don’t you think?”
“I think—”
“They could even use my case—and the money we win—to raise the level of consciousness about people wrongfully imprisoned in this country and—”
“Susan, I don’t think Amnesty International would be interested in the two hours you spent sitting in a comfortable chair in the office of the chief of police waiting for our lawyer to come and straighten everything out. You were treated well. You had a cup of Starbucks coffee in your hand when I arrived, for heaven’s sake. And they did release you with a warning.”
“I asked for no fat, and I’m sure there was cream in that coffee; so don’t imagine they were treating us all that well. And I know I overheard our lawyer say something about me being illegally detained.”
“Susan, I think you’d better drop the whole idea of a lawsuit.”
“I know I’m being . . . well, I may be being just a bit unreasonable. But, Jed, I’m upset. I have all this energy, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
He glanced over his shoulder into the backseat. “You could start writing thank-you notes.”
Susan looked, too. The police had announced that their anniversary gifts were no longer considered possible evidence and were being released. She had insisted on returning to the inn and picking them up. They had filled their car, Kathleen’s SUV, and Brett’s police cruiser. There was still a pile left. She smiled, thinking of that. “At least I have an excellent excuse to return to the inn tomorrow.”
“Susan, are you asking for trouble?”
“No, I’m asking for my presents. They’ve been moved from our room to the office, so even that stupid Peter Konowitz can’t criticize me for picking them up.”
“Susan, you heard what Brett said. . . .”
“Brett said a lot of things—but to the wrong people. I was sure he would give those men hell when he arrived.”
“Is that what Erika thought would happen?”
“Well, no. She said he would be angry, but I didn’t realize she thought he would be angry with us. After all, we didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
“You knew you were breaking the law.”
“But only in a minor way.” She looked over at her husband. “Oh, Jed, I knew what we were doing was wrong. I just thought I’d be able to get away with it. I did exactly what I was always telling the kids not to do when they were growing up. And I guess I paid for it. Now, after all Chrissy’s friends have told their families, I suppose a lot of people are going to know about it.”
“Susan, you did see the crowd of press people standing around when we left, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t think they were waiting for us, did you?”
“I certainly did. They were taking lots of photographs of our exit. And I don’t think it’s because they needed the practice.”
“Do you think it was all local press?”
“No, in a case that has become as notorious as this one, I think it’s just possible that some of those people may have actually been from as far away as New York City—or even the national press.”
Susan flipped down the visor and peered into the makeup mirror that automatically lit up. “Jed, you’re kidding. I must have looked a mess!” Actually, she realized, smiling, she didn’t look all that bad. Sure she could have used some makeup, but her hairdo had held up and she was wearing a favorite shirt, which looked better now that she’d lost all that weight.
“Susan, Ashley’s arrest was big news, but her murder and the arrest of her daughter is humongous. Every sleazy show that pretends to be news while glorifying the misery of others is going to be interested. Remember, the only reason Ashley’s trial wasn’t picked up by Court TV was because that rock singer was on trial for being married to three women at the same time. If he hadn’t claimed to be the minister of the universal church of rock and roll and immune to bigamy laws or something equally stupid, this would already be a national story.”
Susan leaned forward until the seat belt stopped her descent, then rested her head in her hands. “I never realized . . . Oh, I never even thought about the press. Those poor people.”
“You mean Signe and her father?”
“Yes. They’ve been through so much, especially Signe.”
Jed was silent for a moment, needing to concentrate on his driving as two black SUVs, their drivers apparently mistaking the Merritt Parkway for a slalom course, zoomed and swerved in and out through the traffic. “Idiots,” he murmured as they both disappeared over the horizon. “Of course it’s different for Signe.”
Susan nodded. “Because she’s younger.”
“No, because you don’t choose your parents. Doug could have divorced Ashley, but Signe had no choice— Ashley was her mother no matter what.”
“Signe was almost arrested when she was young. For attempted murder.”
“Good Lord, where did you hear that?”
“She told me.”
“When?”
“A few hours ago. Just before the police came for her.”
“Susan, you’d better slow down. This is all news to me.”
“The truth of the matter is that I don’t know very much. Kathleen and Erika were at the house this morning, and Signe came over. She didn’t have time to tell the whole story before the police came and hauled her off. They said it was just to ask her some questions. I do know that she was almost arrested for the attempted murder of her mother—she was sixteen at the time—but she was released because Ashley told the police she’d put the insecticide in Signe’s closet . . .”
“Insecticide?”
“She was accused of poisoning her mother. With the insecticide.”
“Wasn’t insecticide what was used to poison Doug?”<
br />
“Yes.”
“And how old is Signe now?”
“I guess around twenty-six.”
“So this first poisoning event took place ten years ago?”
“Probably a bit more than that.”
“Susan . . .”
“I know. It’s really weird, isn’t it? So you see why we had to go to the inn.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Because the police are making a terrible mistake, and I . . . we . . . Kathleen, and Erika, and I feel that we have to investigate a bit on our own. Erika says that Brett doesn’t have a very high opinion of Peter Konowitz, and so we’re afraid he—Peter Konowitz—won’t see that he’s arrested the wrong person and . . .”
Jed glanced over at his wife. “What’s wrong?”
“I was so upset that I never thought.” She said the words more to herself than to her husband.
“Never thought what?”
“Really, I was so indignant. It never occurred to me.”
“Susan! I didn’t get much sleep last night and it’s been a difficult day, so will you please explain clearly what you’re talking about?”
“It never occurred to me that Signe was in the police station,” she said slowly. “All the time Erika and Kathleen and I were there, Signe was too.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“But she was brought in for questioning. Where else would she be?”
“I have no idea, but she wasn’t there. That’s a tiny little town and a tiny little police station. They have two holding cells. I passed by them both on the way in to pick you up. They were both empty.”
“Are you sure?”
“Susan, each one is about six feet square with a pull-down bench in one corner. Believe me, if anyone had been there, I’d have seen them.”
“So where was she?”
“They could have taken her to the county jail.”
“The county jail? Where is that?”
“I have no idea. I don’t actually know which county Oxford Landing is in. Do you?”
Susan shrugged, then realized her husband probably hadn’t seen her. “No. But poor Signe. She’s such a sweet, young girl, and she shouldn’t be in jail. Who knows who else is there with her! She could be hurt. We’ve got to find out where she is and go right to her.” She reached into her Fendi bag for her cell phone.
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