A Palette for Murder

by Sybil Johnson

  Chief Redmond Marshall replaced the mayor at the podium. Almost as wide as he was tall, Rory noticed a pallor on his face she’d never seen there before. The chief’s gaze swept the sea of faces, resting for a fraction of a second on each one before moving on.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice booming over the crowd with no need for the microphone in front of him. “First let me say, this is a safe city and we intend to keep it that way. But there are only so many of us. We need your help. We can’t be everywhere at once. Residents and neighbors play a key role in the prevention of crime and the apprehension of criminals when crime does occur. If anyone sees suspicious activity or something out of the ordinary, call it in, no matter how insignificant you think it is. Let us check it out. And make sure your outside lights are on at night, and close those windows. You don’t want to make it easy for someone to break in. Now, I’ll take some questions.”

  “What do you consider suspicious activity?” a reporter said.

  “Seeing someone you don’t know in a house when you know the owners are gone. Someone ringing doorbells and walking away quickly or someone walking down the street, trying door handles or looking into windows of parked cars. Transactions taking place out of a car window or trunk. Or even a stranger loitering in a residential area for an extended period of time.”

  “Should residents call 911 under all those circumstances?”

  “People need to use their best judgment. 911 is for emergencies, such as a crime in progress, life-threatening issues, anything that requires an emergency response. For non-emergencies call the police department number. Everyone should have that by their home phone or on their cell. Next question.”

  “What, specifically, is the city doing to ensure residents’ safety?” one of the reporters said.

  “We’re adding extra patrols, especially at night. We’ve contacted all of the Neighborhood Watch block captains to make sure they get the word out to everyone in their areas. So far we’ve had no incidents in the city. We want to keep it that way.”

  “What about the murder on Seagull Lane?” Veronica said. “Wasn’t that a home invasion?”

  “While it had several of the earmarks of acts that have occurred in neighboring towns, we’re not prepared to discount other possibilities. We have our best detective on the case. Be assured, we’re prepared to protect every citizen, and we will catch the person or persons responsible.”

  “Could it be one of the homeless? They’re everywhere these days,” a woman near the front of the crowd asked.

  “We’re looking at all possibilities,” the chief repeated.

  “What about you personally, Chief Marshall?” a belligerent voice near the back of the crowd shouted.

  Everyone turned their heads to look at the speaker, a young man in shorts and a tank top so tight that the contours of his abdominal muscles showed through it.

  “You were there, in my girlfriend’s house, the night she died. You can’t deny it. A neighbor saw you,” Lance continued. “You’re supposed to protect this city. What did you do to protect her?”

  Everyone swiveled their heads back toward the podium and silently waited for the police officer’s response. For the first time in Rory’s memory, Chief Marshall didn’t seem to know what to say.

  “Is that true, Chief?” Veronica shouted. “Were you there? Why were you there? Did you see anything?”

  “He was having an affair with her, that’s what he was doing there. He’s been sneaking around. Every time I go out of town, he’s there,” Lance cried out.

  The crowd erupted, everyone talking at once.

  Reporters continued to shout questions, not giving Chief Marshall the chance to respond.

  “How long has the affair been going on?”

  “Did you see anything?”

  “Are you a suspect?”

  The mayor stepped up to the podium and raised her hands to silence the crowd. “The Chief is not a suspect. This is all idle speculation. There’s no need to sully a good man’s name. That’s all for now. You can direct any further questions to the city’s public relations department.”

  A stony look on his face, Chief Marshall headed toward the entrance to city hall with the mayor by his side. Council members and Detective Green followed closely behind. As soon as they all disappeared inside, the rest of the crowd dispersed and reporters surrounded Lance, peppering him with questions.

  Veronica made her way to the back where Rory and Liz stood by themselves. “Did you see the chief? Were you the neighbor?” she said to Rory.

  Rory frowned. “Leave it alone.”

  “But you know who it was who saw him, don’t you?” Veronica studied her for a moment, then light dawned in her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Griswold. She’s the Neighborhood Watch block captain on your street and lives right next door to the victim. Thanks for the tip.” She waved her hand and joined the group around Lance.

  Once Willow’s boyfriend had answered all the questions and everyone had their quotes, the reporters headed toward their cars, leaving the man standing by himself. His gaze zeroed in on Rory and he headed in her direction.

  “You don’t really think the Chief’s responsible for Willow’s death, do you?” she asked as soon as he was within earshot. “He couldn’t have known what would happen.”

  “He could have insisted she close her windows. I’ll always blame him for that. Have you seen Sekhmet around yet? I’m worried about her.”

  Rory shook her head. “Sorry. No one on the block has mentioned seeing her to me either.”

  “It’s so frustrating.” Lance kicked a pebble, sending it skittering across the nearly empty plaza. “There’s still police tape around the house. They won’t let me in to look for the cat or get any of my things.”

  “I’ll talk to Detective Green and see if we can get access to the house. Maybe he’ll let us in if we promise he can come along,” Rory said.

  Lance frowned. “I guess that’ll have to do. I’d better get going.”

  Liz watched the muscular man walk down the street away from City Hall. “Why would Willow have an affair with the chief when she could have that?”

  “We don’t know they were having an affair. What did you find out?”

  Liz turned her attention back to Rory. “Willow wasn’t winning friends and influencing people in the business community, that’s for sure. Everyone I talked to said she was constantly giving them unsolicited advice, telling them how to run their businesses.”

  “Same with her partner at the store. What about her tenants?”

  “I talked to the woman who owns the clothing store next to your mother’s building. The owner wasn’t happy about the lease change, but she didn’t seem overly concerned. Guess business is good. I’m not so sure about the gift shop on the other side of Beach Healing.”

  “Monica’s Treasures?”

  “That’s the one. They were closed so I didn’t get a chance to talk with Monica herself, but there was an ‘Everything Must Go’ sign in the window.”

  “I knew she was having a hard time, but I didn’t realize business was that bad.”

  “Sounds like Willow’s intended change to the lease agreement was pricing Monica out of business, or at least out of the downtown area.” Liz peered up at Rory’s ear. “What’s that?” She stood on tiptoe, removed something and held out her hand. In its palm lay a tiny acupuncture needle. “Getting a little natural healing done of your own?”

  Rory sighed.

  “It was the only way I could talk to Willow’s partner, Dr. Wagner. Not that it got me anywhere. He didn’t tell me a thing. The clerk at the store thought we should try Teresa, said they spent a lot of time together. I knew they were friends, but I didn’t realize they were that close.”

  “I should have thought of her myself. Give her a call now. See if she’s available.”

&nbs
p; Rory dialed the woman’s home number, but the person who answered wasn’t Teresa but a woman with an accent who repeated “No English, no English” several times before hanging up.

  Rory stared at her phone. “That was odd. Did Teresa and her husband hire a housekeeper? I thought they took care of the house and the kids themselves.”

  “Maybe her wedding-planning business is taking off and she needed the extra help.”

  “Let me try her cell. She might be working. I can set up a time to talk with her.” Teresa answered on the first ring. Rory heard voices and cars in the background.

  “I’m waiting for a client, but I have a few minutes. What’s up?” Teresa said.

  “We had some questions about Willow.”

  “That’s a longer conversation than I have time for right now. I have an idea. I have a cake tasting at that new bakery in town Tuesday afternoon. Ingersoll’s. I usually do it with the bride, but she lives up north and is leaving the decision to me. I could use a second opinion. Why don’t you join me?”

  Rory agreed to help, ending the call after they set up the time and place to meet the next day. “That’s a good start, asking Teresa, but I feel like we need to explore other avenues. I’m going by my mother’s store later. I’ll talk to Dawn and see what else she can tell me.”

  “I’ll see what else I can find out about the building Willow bought.” Liz glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. Call me if you find out anything.”

  Chapter 10

  That afternoon, Rory sat down in a chair next to Kit’s hospital bed, clasped his hand in hers and bowed her head in prayer.

  “Rory?” a weak voice said. “Is that you?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Kit,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

  He looked around, confusion written all over his face. “Where am I?”

  “You’re back in the hospital. How are you?”

  He closed his eyes. “Tired.” A moment later, they opened again. “There’s something…I can’t remember…”

  “Is there something you want to tell me? Do you remember who hit you?”

  “Not that…I saw…something.” He frowned as if finding the right words was difficult.

  “What did you see?”

  “Willow…Friday.”

  “Were you at Willow’s house the night she died? Did you see someone?”

  “So tired…” Kit said before falling asleep.

  Rory waited ten long minutes to see if he would wake up again and tell her more, but he was still sleeping when she left to meet her date.

  “I have to warn you, I’m not very coordinated,” Rory said to Tripp as they exited the skate rental store.

  “Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.”

  Skates, pads and helmets in their hands, the two headed down the hill toward the pier. Sitting on a bench facing the ocean, they laced up their inline skates, strapped pads to their knees and elbows and put on their helmets.

  Rory rose to her feet, holding the back of the bench until her legs stopped wobbling. Knees locked in typical new skater’s stance, she took a deep breath, let go of the bench and moved tentatively forward. When she was more than an arm’s length away from any support, her legs separated. Feeling as if her feet would come out from under her, she flailed her arms, groping for something to steady herself against, finding Tripp’s arm moments before she fell.

  “Relax, you’re doing fine. Don’t lock your knees. Bend them a little,” he said as she regained her balance.

  She let go of his arm and slid forward. Two glides later she smiled and said, “I did it.” She turned to share her moment of victory with her date, lost her balance and fell forward onto her hands and knees.

  “You’re doing fine,” he assured her. “Everyone falls at first. Up you go.”

  He helped her to her feet. This time she made it twice as far before sitting down hard on the pavement.

  “You’re doing good. You’re almost there.”

  Before long she was able to skate in a straight line and stop without falling down. “I did it!”

  “Great job. You’re almost ready for the path.”

  She practiced stopping and starting before they stepped onto the path reserved for bikers and skaters and began skating side by side going north. Before long, she felt more confident and was even beginning to enjoy herself.

  “You’re doing great for a first-timer,” Tripp said.

  “Tell that to my muscles.”

  Three young kids whipped around them on skates, causing Rory to wobble. Tripp reached out for her hand to steady her. She smiled and, hand in hand, they continued down the path.

  “Have the police discovered anything new about who hit Kit?” Tripp asked.

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “With all those people on the beach, you would think someone would have seen a fight.”

  “Maybe they don’t want to get involved.” Rory hazarded a look at her date, but soon regretted it when she momentarily lost her balance. She gripped his hand tighter and steadied herself. “He said something to me today that makes me think he may have been at Willow’s house the night she died.”

  “Are you sure? Is he in danger?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. I’m sure the police will protect him. You’re really concerned about him, aren’t you?”

  “I know what it’s like to be in his position.”

  Rory remained silent, waiting to see if he would tell her more.

  “My family was homeless for a while when I was a kid,” he continued. “We lived in our parents’ car. It was a scary time. Sometimes my sister and I were so frightened, we stayed up all night.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Rory’s thighs ached from the unaccustomed exercise. “Can we turn around? My legs are getting tired.”

  Tripp helped her make a U-turn on the path. He asked questions about decorative painting the rest of the way back. When they stopped at the base of the pier and stepped off the path onto the parking lot beside it, someone yelled, “Watch out!”

  They both turned toward the sound to see a skater hurtling down the hill, her arms waving wildly as she headed straight for them. Rory froze. At the last second, Tripp grabbed her and pulled her toward him, avoiding a collision with the out-of-control skater. The two landed in a heap on the pavement with Rory on top. The skater sailed past them, grabbed a concrete pylon and skidded to a halt.

  Her own face inches from Tripp’s, she stared down at the attractive man’s face and blushed.

  They disentangled themselves and sat up.

  “You okay?” he said.

  “I think so.” She wiggled her feet and arms. “Everything feels okay.”

  He checked her ankles and legs for injuries before helping her up. “I can give you a more thorough examination at the clinic, if you like, but I think you’re fine.”

  Rory skated over to a nearby bench and sat down to take off her skates. “That’s not necessary. What about you? You took the brunt of it.”

  Tripp moved his shoulders and swiveled his wrists. “Don’t worry, I’m good.” He offered her his hand. “Let’s return the skates then get some ice cream. My treat.”

  Hand in hand, the two of them headed up the hill.

  The bell over the front door tinkled when Rory entered Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint. She paused at the entrance, basking in the cool air before stepping all the way inside. She sat on a stool behind the counter and waited for her mother to finish ringing up a customer’s purchases.

  “Aren’t you working today?” Arika closed the cash register drawer and stared over at her daughter. “Or is your place too hot?”

  “I went skating.”

  Arika raised an eyebrow. “Date?”

  “With Tripp, the guy dad threatened to have a
talk with on Sunday.” Rory looked around the store. “Are you alone today?”

  “Dawn’s in the back getting some wood pieces for the new display.” Her mother gestured toward a nearby shelf half-filled with merchandise. “She seems a little down. Not her usual cheery self. Do you know what’s going on?”

  “She hasn’t told you?”

  Before Arika could respond, Dawn walked onto the sales floor from the back of the store, carrying an armload of unfinished wood. Her face brightened when she saw Rory. “Any news?”

  Arika looked from one to the other. “News about what?”

  Rory filled her mother in on the police’s suspicions about Willow’s murder and Dawn’s request that she help.

  Arika frowned. “I’m not sure looking into Willow’s death is such a good thing for you to do.”

  “I’m being careful and I’ll let Martin—Detective Green—know whatever I find out. Promise.” Rory shifted her weight on the stool. “What do you two know about Willow? I stopped by her store earlier, but no one could tell me much.”

  Dawn stacked the wood pieces on the shelf next to a finished version of the project. “We didn’t spend much time together. She took a couple classes from me here at the store and we went out to dinner once or twice. She grew up in New Mexico, if that helps. What kind of information are you looking for?”

  “I’m not really sure. Her birth date would be helpful. There are places I can check online if I have it.”

  “That I can’t help you with. Have you asked Teresa? The two of them hung out a lot.” Dawn frowned and stared at the shelf she was straightening. “Though I haven’t seen them together lately. Something was going on between the two of them. I’m not sure what.”

  Rory tucked the information away in the back of her brain.

  “I know her birthday,” Arika said. “Don’t you remember, Dawn? She had that dinner month before last, right before I got sick. Her fifty…sixth if I’m not mistaken. That’s what she said, anyway.”

  Rory jotted down the date her mother mentioned using the memo feature on her phone and quickly calculated in her head the year Willow had been born. “That’s helpful.” She hopped off the stool and shoved her phone in the pocket of her shorts. “I need to get back to work. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”