The way Chloe saw it, Lottie could be guilty of the murders, but not the blackmail. It would explain why she acted so strangely around Talia lately, and why she had gone mysteriously quiet regarding the whole business. It wasn’t like Lottie to keep her mouth shut, so she must have a good reason for doing so.
The only thing that didn’t gel was why she would have told Chloe and EV about Evan being blackmailed in the first place. Come to think of it, neither method of murder screamed Lottie; Chloe had a feeling she’d choose something more eloquent than a push off a ladder or a bashed in skull. Then again, if the murders weren’t planned it could have been a crime of passion or opportunity, and the killer would have used any means necessary.
With Ashton, it was the other way around. His name now had two marks against it: he was undoubtedly the person who wrote the threatening note to Luther; his handwriting on the condolence card was a slam dunk. And, he was seen at the scene of the crime, very close to the time of Luther’s death. But what could possibly be his motive for either murder, or for his newfound hatred of EV?
Ashton writing the blackmail letter to Luther seemed to clinch the idea that he had also killed him; if Lottie also knew Ashton wrote the notes she may have used that as more ammo to frame him. Each theory seemed to circle back to the other suspect. Frustrated, she put her tablet away and moved to get up. Tiny claws dug through her shorts and into her skin; apparently her furry friends weren’t ready to end their snuggle session. Luckily, a merciful and well-timed knock on the door was too much for them to ignore, so Chloe got her way and rose from the chair.
Chapter 28
Spice leapt into the air, his lithe body nearly twisting and turning as he pounced on a crumpled piece of paper. He snatched it up in his mouth and leapt again, a shake of his head sending the toy into EV’s lap. She picked it up with the idea of tossing it back to him, when she realized it was a receipt from Thread. Priscilla used bright purple ink in her register, making the receipts easy to distinguish at a glance.
With an arch look at Chloe, she started to unfold it, then had to dodge to the right as Chloe tried to grab it away from her. After a brief but fierce tussle, EV got to sneak a peek.
“Yarn?”
“It’s not for me, I was buying it for a friend.” If her words had not been accompanied by a guilty look, EV might have bought it, but outside of not confessing her role as town gossip columnist, Chloe was a lousy liar. She only held out a minute before confessing, “Fine. I thought I’d learn how to knit. Everyone says it’s relaxing.”
“Not the way I do it,” EV grumbled. “You might as well come to knitting group with me and let Priscilla show you the basics.”
“I can just watch a YouTube video.”
“And will a YouTube video tell you if you’re using too much tension when you wrap the yarn?”
“No,” Chloe groaned.
“You’ll come with me and learn properly. Consider it your punishment for keeping secrets.”
“Knitting group is a punishment? Why, what goes on there? Some kind of old lady confessional where you all talk about support hose, and why things aren’t the like they were in the ‘good old days’, I’ll bet.”
“You’re going, Miss Recluse.”
“Fine, I’ll go.” At this point, there was little other choice. EV was like a dog with a bone when she used that tone of voice. Besides, Chloe couldn’t deny the term struck a nerve; she had promised herself that she would be more outgoing, but so far had not made good.
As much as she told herself she belonged in Ponderosa Pines—and even though she was accepted almost without question—Chloe still couldn’t see herself as a true member of the community; as actually having found the place where she belonged. With an evil glance back at EV, she added, “But I’m driving.”
Now it was EV’s turn to groan.”We can walk.”
“It’s raining.”
“Not that hard.” Rain pelted the window. “Besides, it’s supposed to clear off by noon.”
“Hard enough.” EV went back for her knitting bag before settling into place in the passenger seat. She had barely gotten her seat belt locked when Chloe threw the car into gear and rocketed down the drive.
The first face they saw as they stepped through the door was Lottie’s.
“One of us should try to talk to her; see if we can get her to reconcile with Talia.” EV kept her voice low enough that only Chloe could hear.
“Not it.” Chloe’s declaration was met with a pair of eloquently raised eyebrows.
“Not it? Really? How mature.”
“You dragged me here, you can talk to dragon lady.” Chloe chose a seat near Priscilla.
There were plenty to spare, since besides Lottie and Allegra, only two other knitters had braved the rain. EV settled onto the sofa and pulled out her knitting bag.
Clearly, the textile genius had not been passed down from mother to daughter, because the mess that stretched between EV’s two needles resembled nothing like the dishcloth it was supposed to be.
A simple square in heavy cotton shouldn’t be that hard to produce, but it was beyond EV’s capabilities to create anything better than a misshapen tangle of knots that only loosely qualified as knitting.
As expected, though, after a short demonstration, Chloe was producing lovely, even rows at a speed that rivaled Priscilla’s. EV shot her the stink eye while Chloe returned a smirk.
“Lottie, how are you and Talia getting along?” Looking down at her work while trying to untangle the yarn that had somehow tied itself around her finger, EV missed seeing the anguished look that came over Lottie’s face. Chloe caught it along with the trembling of Lottie’s bottom lip. The woman was close to tears. Had Lofty Lottie finally been taken down by her formally mousy sister? It looked like it.
“She won’t speak to me. I’ve tried to apologize, but she won’t listen. She won’t even look at me,” Lottie’s voice held genuine regret as she slumped down in her seat, defeated.
“Give her some time,” Allegra advised. “Talia’s had a lot to handle these past few weeks, and frankly, you didn’t do much to help.” Her tone was gentle but the rebuke was clear.
“I know. I want to make it up to her, but she won’t let me.”
Allegra shrugged. Given her performance at both Luther and Evan’s funerals, everyone knew Lottie had a long way to go before Talia would even consider forgiveness.
While Chloe focused on Lottie, EV gave up all pretense of knitting to study Allegra’s face and posture. At the last knitting group, she had been completely scattered and inattentive; today, she appeared more calm but there was also sadness underneath the facade and EV could see tension. It was there in the set of her mouth; the pinched look around her eyes—yet, her needles clicked together in perfect rhythm while her hands moved smoothly through the motions of knitting.
“Maybe if you had been more considerate of her feelings, she wouldn’t be shutting you out this way. She lost her husband, and for a few days, it looked like he might have died by his own brother’s hand. Then Evan died, and the police don’t have any idea who killed either of them. I’ve been a nervous wreck for days.” Allegra didn’t notice her slip of the tongue, but EV and Chloe both picked up on it right away.
A look passed between them, but with a barely perceptible shake of her head, EV communicated to Chloe that now was not the time to pursue that line of questioning.
“What’s worse is that someone started a rumor that she was having an affair with Evan.” Allegra’s eyes sparked as though she had a personal stake in the situation.
“That’s ridiculous. I know for a fact she was not the one Evan was sleeping with,” Lottie tossed her head, and though the accusation in her tone was not directed at anyone in particular it was clear someone in the room was meant to feel the sting of her barb.
“It’s almost as ludicrous as thinking EV killed him, but we all know how that rumor got tossed around so much.” Priscilla glanced at Allegra, whose face reddened.
Allegra opened her mouth, presumably to defend her husband, then closed it again.
“Well, I hope people don’t put too much credence in the word of a man who goes out catting around.”
On hearing the remark, both Chloe and EV’s hands stilled, and a look passed between them. Lottie had no idea that her chance remark would be caught by the two people in town who had already heard her use nearly the same phrase and inflection before. There was no doubt, Lottie was the tipster.
Could she be both the tipster and the murderer?
Seated next to her, Chloe noticed Allegra’s hands were shaking, and a sideways glance at her face proved that she had turned pale. EV noticed the same thing, watching with interest as Allegra dropped one stitch, then another.
For several minutes, there was no other sound, save for the clacking of needles.
Just as Chloe cleared her throat to say something—anything—that might reduce the tension, Allegra abruptly thrust her knitting back into her bag and announced with fake brightness, “Ladies, I believe I’ll just nip out a little early this week.”
Her remark was met with only half-hearted protest.
As Allegra made ready to leave, she pulled a colorful scarf from her bag and, turning away from the group, began to wrap it over her hair. Behind her, Chloe’s face took on an astonished expression—mouth dropping to her chin; eyebrows shooting up nearly to her hairline. She waved a hand to get EV’s attention.
“Scarf!” she mouthed and pointed.
That was the moment everything fell into place.
Chapter 29
Steam rolled off the sidewalk under the shimmering rays of the sun where it peeked through the lightening cloud cover. The Mudbucket’s eaves dripped and dribbled their watery burden onto the pavement below. The water ran and puddled as Chloe and EV hurried in to snag EV’s favorite table; the one near the kitchen door.
This was a conversation too distracting to have while driving.
“Evan and Allegra?” EV kept her voice low. “She’s the cougar Lottie was talking about. Can’t say I was expecting that.”
“I know, right? We know Ashton wrote the note to Luther, and he was at the church, and he had a motive for killing Evan.” Chloe ticked each point off on her fingers. “He’s the one, you know he did it.”
“It all fits.”
“Filthy bastard tried to implicate you. That’s why he started all those rumors.”
“There’s one thing I still can’t wrap my head around, though. What was the motive for killing Luther? Lottie had more reason to want him dead than Ashton.”
“You think they were in it together? Maybe Lottie killed Luther and Ashton wasted Evan?”
“No,” EV mused, “If she was in on it, the last thing she would do is call the tip line. She defended me whenever she heard someone repeating stupid gossip. It had to be Ashton all the way.”
“What if Luther knew and threatened to go public with the affair? Ashton might have killed him to save face.” Chloe dumped extra sugar into her coffee.
“I guess…it still seems off to me. The real question is: what do we do now?”
Chloe tapped her fingers on the table. The smart thing to do would be to call Nate and lay it out for him, but she wanted one more chance to settle it all in her mind.
“We don’t have to decide now; let’s go back to your place, look at the time lines, and see if everything fits before we go accusing someone with no hard evidence.”
After the tingle that had run through her, EV knew they were on the right track, but it never hurt to be thorough. She reached for her knitting bag but came up empty-handed.
“I think I left my bag at Thread, I’ll just grab it and then we can go.”
* * *
Ashton stepped out from where he had been standing in the hallway that led to the kitchen and restrooms. The shadowy corner made a perfect cover as he exited the men’s room and heard his name mentioned. Now, his face an unreadable mask, he walked out of the Mudbucket and right past his wife, who stood in the recessed doorway of New Sage, a shopping bag in each hand.
* * *
Allegra watched, dumbfounded, as her husband cast a furtive glance toward Thread, hurried to their car, pulled a gun out of the glove box, and drove away toward the side of town where EV lived.
Something was terribly wrong.
When EV and Chloe walked out of Thread, then drove away in the same direction, she was sure of it.
Where had Ashton gotten that gun. For that matter, when had Ashton gotten that gun.
Allegra dropped both shopping bags before fumbling in her purse for her cell phone. She placed a hurried call to Nate to warn him that he needed to get to EV’s, and fast. It was a gamble whether the others were headed there, but there was little time to waste on indecision so she went with intuition.
Since Ashton had taken the car and she had stood there like an idiot while Chloe drove away, Allegra needed another way to get to EV’s place, but there was no other vehicle in sight. Just her luck.
Where were all the nosy neighbors when she really needed one?
It had been a long time, years, since Allegra had run full out. Probably since high school. But she had lettered in track—middle distance and 100 meter sprints—and even if she had let herself go a bit, she knew she had at least one good effort left in her.
Three steps in stiletto heels was far enough to prove she would never make it in time so Allegra kicked them off, tossed her purse and bags under the display table outside of New Sage, and rummaged around in a bin full of hot pink canvas mules for a pair that fit. A pang of guilt over shoplifting fluttered through her mind, but right now she had more important things to worry about.
Allegra slipped the shoes on and ran like the hounds of hell were on her heels: across the street, down toward the church, and into the woods.
She took EV’s shortcut, lengthening her stride to eat up the distance as fast as her feet would carry her. Cutting across country this way was not quite as quick as driving, but because the road to that side of town was a series of switchbacks, Ashton would have to go slow. It would be close.
* * *
Twice on the way to EV’s house, distraction and speed nearly cost Ashton precious control of his car on a curve, but he pulled it out at the last minute. Confession is good for the soul—it was the one clear thought running through his mind while he hid his vehicle in the trees at the end of the cul-de-sac. When he was sure it couldn’t be seen, Ashton doubled back to test EV’s back door. It was open—almost no one locked their doors in Ponderosa Pines.
Because nothing bad ever happened here. Until now.
When he saw the crime scene photos spread across her dining room, Luther’s staring eyes sent a shudder through him; but it was the garish puddle of red spreading out from under Evan’s head that had Ashton riveted. The stark images turned his stomach.
He’d done that.
To another human being.
The gun hung forgotten at his side while tears ran down his face. He stood like a statue even when Chloe preceded EV through the front door.
* * *
Barely inside the room, Chloe caught sight of Ashton and quickly noticed the gun in his hand. Her knees turned to jelly; her heart kicked into a gallop; and her feet refused to carry her another inch.
“What the…” The words died in EV’s mouth when a wide-eyed Chloe leaned to the side so EV could see, and pointed to the man who shouldn’t have been there.
“Holy sh—” Chloe elbowed EV hard in the ribs and mouthed, “Do something!”
“Ow,” EV muttered absently; her brain busy running through various scenarios. Finally, she asked the question that seemed most logical: “What are you doing here, Ashton?”
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Of course not.” EV fought to keep her voice calm and soothing.
“We know Evan and Allegra were sleeping together, but why Luther? What did he do?” Chloe gave in to curiosity. Wh
o knew what might happen in the next few minutes; she could at least die without that question on her mind. If they could keep him talking, some miracle might bring help.
Before he could explain exactly what Luther had done, Allegra burst through the door shouting, “I think Ashton killed Luther and Evan, and is on his way here! He has a gun!”
Not a miracle.
EV waved a hand with exaggerated impatience to show Allegra she was too late.
“Hello, Allegra.” Ashton’s face reddened; his voice turned cold. “Why don’t you come see what I did to your lover.”
The situation had just gone from bad to worse in the space of a heartbeat.
Chloe edged closer toward the kitchen island, thinking it might provide some protection if the gun went off. She dragged EV with her, inch by slow inch, while Ashton preoccupied himself with his wife.
Allegra swallowed hard but refused to look at the copies of the crime scene photos. Instead, she focused all of her attention on Ashton.
“It meant nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me again.” Ashton’s voice rose.
Chloe drove her elbow into EV’s ribs for the second time. “Do something, now!”
“Ashton,” her tone the same she would use on a child who needed to calm down, “why don’t you tell us what happened,” EV urged. “You’ll feel better if you get it off your chest.”
Catching Allegra’s eye, she tried to communicate to the woman that being quiet was in her best interest.
“Start with what happened to Luther so we can understand, and help you.”
The next minute felt an eternity long. The tension in the room was palpable while Ashton considered her request. Finally, he nodded twice and began to speak.
Chapter 30
“It all started the night of the town meeting. Allegra and I have been…well, we haven’t been communicating on a deeper level for a few months now, if you know what I mean.” As sexual innuendo goes, this was probably the mildest one ever, but it fit perfectly with Ashton’s normal speech patterns. Always proper—even pedantic at times—but with a touch of drama.
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