Murder at the Mushroom Festival

by Janet Finsilver

  The Silver Sentinels began to arrive and soon everyone was assembled.

  Mary placed a box of doughnuts sprinkled with powdered sugar on the table. “It’s been ages since I’ve made these. I found the process relaxing—something I needed. There’s homemade raspberry jam in the middle.”

  The sweet smell of the treats filled the room.

  Mary took Princess out of her carrier, along with a small pink blanket, put the dog on the floor, then made a bed for her in the corner.

  The group helped themselves to treats and beverages. As soon as everyone was settled, Gertie started the meeting. I went over my additions and asked if they had discovered anything more. I didn’t mention my agreement with Elise.

  “I have something,” the Professor said. “The Fungi Finders are taking turns staking out the area being illegally logged. They didn’t like the idea of someone stealing the public’s trees.”

  Gertie nodded. “Good. I hope they catch them.”

  The Professor added, “I have no idea if there’s any connection with the logging and Ned Blaine’s murder.”

  Rudy frowned. “I wonder if Ned Blaine was blackmailing the people taking the wood.”

  “That’s a possibility,” I said. “He was clearly into other people’s business.”

  “I didn’t get anywhere with Elise yesterday afternoon,” Mary said. “The woman was in no mood to talk.”

  And I know why.

  Rudy, Ivan, and Gertie had nothing to add.

  I filled them in on Daniel’s questioning, the arrival of the attorney, and Allie’s distress.

  Mary put down the knitting she’d started. “Poor girl. I wish we could solve this and have it over with.”

  The Professor nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. However, we must remember the murder happened three nights ago, and we’ve only had two full days to work on it. We’ve already gathered quite a bit of information.”

  They nodded and agreed to carry on with the plans they’d generated yesterday, slim though they were.

  “Michael Corrigan is arriving this morning. He planned to visit next week, but he moved his trip up,” I said.

  “Such a nice man,” Mary said. “He’ll be getting an earful of thank-yous for the community center.”

  “I thought I’d go over to see the contest awards this morning,” I said. “Both to be supportive and because maybe I’ll hear or see something useful.”

  “Excellent idea, my dear,” the Professor said. “I think we should all go.”

  There was a perceptual brightening in the group at the thought of a new action plan.

  “I’d like to meet at noon to see if we’ve found out anything,” I said.

  Mary nodded. “Even if it’s only a speck here and there, something might connect the dots and move us forward.”

  The others agreed.

  My phone pinged, and I saw a message from Michael saying he’d arrived at the inn. I let him know we were in the conference room.

  A few minutes later, my boss entered. My first thought at seeing him was always lumberjack, never billionaire. He had the build of someone with a physically demanding job. The red plaid flannel shirt and blue jeans spoke country, not big city. I’d seen him in custom-tailored Italian suits when the situation called for it, but his preference was casual.

  Before the Sentinels could gather round him, Princess raced out of her corner, ran under the table, and charged out barking.

  Michael laughed and bent down on one knee. The tan Chihuahua slid to a stop and put both her front paws on Michael’s leg.

  He gently petted her, his hand larger than the little dog’s head. “Who is this cutie?”

  “Princess,” Mary promptly replied. “She’s my sister’s retired hearing assistance dog. We both raised her. When my sister moved and got another dog, she stayed with me.”

  He scratched Princess behind her right ear. “The name fits with all the rhinestones in her collar and on her sweater. Clothing befitting royalty.”

  He got to his feet and the Sentinels proceeded with their warm welcome. He responded in kind.

  “Michael,” the Professor said, “we all want you to know how honored we are to have this room named after us.”

  “You’re welcome, and thank you for all the lovely notes of appreciation. It was a small thing for me to do, considering how much you’ve done for the community, as well as for my staff and me personally.”

  “We’re putting the laptops you gave us to good use,” Gertie said. “They helped a lot on our last case.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  He turned to me. “I texted Daniel so he and I could get together and talk after the meeting. I told him where we were.” Then he began to look at our charts. “I see you’ve been busy like usual.”

  He scanned the information and asked questions. It took him only a short while to get up to speed.

  He walked over to one chart and pointed to a couple of spots. “Kelly, what’s this about you being pushed into a river and receiving a threatening note?”

  I explained, downplaying it as much as I could.

  “I see you have the name of the person who put you in the river. Why is there a question mark after the word accidental?”

  “Deputy Stanton said he didn’t buy Joey’s explanation.”

  “As I’ve said in the past, he has a good handle on people, so I’d believe him.”

  “I agree.”

  Michael shook his head. “I’m sure glad I hired you to manage an inn in the quiet, safe town of Redwood Cove. Are you sure you don’t want to go back to your troubleshooting position? You never dealt with this much when you were intentionally looking into problems.”

  “I’m sure. This is my home now. I love the area and have wonderful new friends.”

  The Silver Sentinels beamed.

  Before I could add more, Daniel appeared in the doorway.

  “Come on in,” Michael said.

  He entered, followed by Allie. “Michael, this is my daughter, Allie.”

  “Hello, Allie.” Michael held out his hand.

  She took it with her small, slender one. “Mr. Corrigan, I want to thank you for helping my dad.”

  I could see tears in the corners of her eyes.

  Corrigan patted the top of her hand. “People who work for me are part of my family. I want them to be there for each other. I’ll always do whatever I can to help.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her palm.

  “I made this for you.” She handed him a card made from blue construction paper and adorned with small gold stars.

  He read it aloud. “‘Thank you for helping my dad. I love him very much. You’re a wonderful person.’” Michael smiled at Allie. “That’s very touching.”

  He held it up, and we could see the message as well as a photo of a bald eagle she had glued to the left side. The bird stood on a branch facing us, tall and proud. Its light yellow eyes seemed to stare directly at us down its orange hooked beak—fierce and challenging. There was a good reason the bald eagle had been chosen as a symbol for our country.

  “I pasted a picture of a bald eagle on the card because I’ve read they’re very powerful spiritual guides and they symbolize freedom and victory,” Allie explained. “You kept my dad free.”

  Daniel put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Allie and I did a ceremony this morning and prayed for the police to have victory in finding Ned Blaine’s killer.”

  “I have a gift for you,” Allie said to Michael and held up a feather. “I found this eagle feather on a hike with my dad. I want you to have it.” She handed it to Corrigan.

  “I’m honored, Allie.” Michael examined the feather. “It’s beautiful, but what’s more important than its appearance is its meaning. I’ll mount it on a wall in my den to always be a
reminder of you and your father.”

  She smiled at him and took her father’s hand.

  Michael held up the feather. “To freedom and victory.”

  We all cheered.

  I looked at the clock and realized we needed to get going if we were going to make it to the town center for the contest awards. I shared with Michael and Daniel what we were planning.

  “I might join you later,” Michael said. “Right now I want to talk with Daniel.”

  Allie said good-bye to her dad and went to join Helen and Tommy. Rudy and Ivan chose to walk to town, while the Professor planned to chauffer Gertie and Mary.

  I drove the inn’s truck and parked near the judging area. As I walked to where the presentation was going to be, I saw Elise, Peter, and Joey, with plates full of pancakes, settle themselves at a wooden table.

  Two rows of colorful woven mushroom-collecting baskets rested on the platform. Roger was at the lectern with a handful of stapled papers. He waved me over.

  “Kelly, I have a big favor to ask. I just realized I forgot the carved mushroom prizes I showed you. Probably lack of sleep catching up with me. There’s no one I can call at the house to bring them because I gave all of my staff the day off. They’ve been working long days because of the two parties I put on. I have a speech to give. Would you be willing to go get them?”

  “Sure. Are the awards where I saw them when I visited?”

  He took a ring of keys out of his pocket and handed them to me. “Yes. I haven’t moved them.” He pulled out his wallet, extracted a card, and gave it to me. “That’s the code for the gate.”

  I bet one of the keys opens the workshop. Maybe I can see what is in there. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Roger walked over to where the mayor was standing.

  I walked quickly to the truck. Three of the four suspects were just starting to eat breakfast and the fourth was going to be in front of a crowd giving a speech.

  I’d be safe.

  Chapter 27

  I drove to Roger’s house, opened the gate, and went up the now familiar driveway. Parking in front of the gallery, I took the keys he’d given me out of my pocket and unlocked the door. I could see the awards where he’d left them, but my focus was on the work area.

  There were five keys on the ring. The third one did the trick. I opened the door and shoved the keys in my pocket. Dank, musty air assaulted my senses. I flipped on the lights, and there it was. The huge log had to be the one from the river. It rested on several thick blocks of wood. Heavy-duty chains were wrapped around it in several places.

  I walked up to it and placed my hand on the cold, damp surface. Old-growth redwood. It could be over two thousand years old.

  “Roger must have wanted you pretty badly,” I said softly.

  “Yes, I did,” a voice said behind me.

  Fear shot through me. I stiffened and slowly turned. Roger stood in the doorway.

  “It doesn’t look like much now, but someday it will produce many one-of-a-kind objects.”

  “What happened with your speech?”

  My voice shook.

  “Actually, the mayor was giving the speech, not me.” He inclined his head toward the gallery display area. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

  I knew there was only one way to get in the work area…that meant there was only one way out. Maybe I could escape out the front somehow. I gulped and walked with robot-stiff steps toward him. He turned and entered the front room. I kept a good distance between us and stopped just inside the studio.

  Roger picked up a remote control. “Do you want to see what you look like on television?”

  What on earth was he talking about?

  He pointed his remote to a television mounted to the ceiling in the corner of the room. Roger clicked a button, and it sprang to life, showing the front of the gallery at night. I recognized the inn’s truck. . . and then I got to see myself searching for lights and cameras…and then going around the side of the building. There I was with my flashlight trying to see inside. He had multiple hidden cameras.

  I swallowed hard. “Why the concealed cameras?” It was more of a squeak than a question.

  “I don’t want to scare people away with motion lights or obvious surveillance equipment. I like to know who’s sneaking around my property…so I can take care of them.”

  I was sure he didn’t mean taking care of them in a nice way.

  I backed up a step.

  His eyes were cold. “I get rid of the problems in my life.”

  And I was a problem.

  I took another step back.

  Roger put the remote down, reached in a drawer, took out a gun, and pointed it at me.

  I had difficulty breathing. “You’d…you’d kill me for a log?” I managed to stammer.

  “No, there are a couple of reasons. There’s a chance I’d be arrested, although I was careful. Peter hired the additional men and equipment. I gave him cash for the transactions.”

  I felt queasy. “Joey said it’s usually just a fine and they take the log.”

  “This is different. It’s on a much larger scale and on federal property. We couldn’t help but damage the area. I’d probably get off with just a fine, but I don’t deal in probablys.”

  I was trembling uncontrollably. “Are you going to kill Joey and Peter too because they know about the theft?”

  “No. I’m not worried about them. They did the actual stealing and would be in more trouble than me. Also, that log will need a lot of work, and they’ll be the ones to do it. I’m their meal ticket for a long time to come.”

  Buy time. Buy time. “You said a couple of reasons.”

  “If the Feds find out I have it, they’ll confiscate it. It’s the only one like it that exists. Believe me, I’ve looked.”

  I believed him.

  “It’s priceless. Money can’t buy anything like it. Peter’s puny little logs, and he only had a few of those, made me want it even more.”

  Time. I need more time. “Did you kill Ned Blaine?”

  “No reason not to tell you. You won’t be here much longer. Yes, I did. I met with Joey that night to finalize his part in the plan for taking the log. Blaine had followed Joey. Joey left before me because I didn’t want us seen together, and he never saw the reporter.”

  I willed myself to stop shaking. “But why kill him?”

  “He wanted money to keep quiet. Kept waving a stupid pen in my face. I grabbed it and shoved it in my pocket.” His lips smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “I saw you take it, by the way—at the party. There’s no proof of who had it, and there’ll be way too many prints for it to be useful.”

  More answers, not that they helped me any.

  “I probably could’ve handled it another way, found a way to blackmail him back for his silence. But men and equipment were lined up and he’d been making life miserable for a lot of people. So I shot him. End of problem.”

  Roger tightened his grip on the gun. “I’m sorry I have to do this. I liked you, except for your snooping around. With all the questions you’ve been asking, it was clear you didn’t plan to stop.”

  Fear paralyzed me.

  My knees began to buckle.

  I had to do something.

  I rammed into the display table next to me, knocking several sculptures to the ground, dashing them to pieces.

  Roger cried out as he looked at his shattered artwork, distracted for an instant.

  I twirled around, ran through the work area door, and locked it behind me. I looked around, searching for a way out I hadn’t seen previously, a place to hide, or something I could use as a weapon. Bullets began hitting the door and the lock. Splinters flew in every direction. A few hit my face, causing a stinging pain.

  I frantically searched
for something to jam the door closed. In a corner I saw the forklift I’d seen on my earlier visit. I’d driven similar equipment on the ranch.

  I ran toward it, searching the key ring with trembling fingers. I found one that looked right. Crawling into the driver’s seat, I inserted it, turned the key, and said a silent thank-you as the engine came to life. I shoved it into gear and drove it to the door, ramming the prongs against it.

  The door handle turned, but the door didn’t open.

  Roger’s voice came over the sound of the engine. “Whatever you’ve done, it won’t keep me from getting you. You have nowhere to go, and there’s no one here to help you. I don’t get unexpected visitors…and cell phones don’t work here.”

  The door began shaking as he threw his weight against it.

  He was right. I knew a padlock secured the barn doors, and he had the key. The windows were barred. His property was isolated, and, with no people on-site, there was no one to hear me scream. All he had to do was figure a way to block the door on his side and then come in the back way. He had all the time in the world to figure out how to do that. I was a sitting duck.

  I needed to get to him first. Catch him off guard. Blood pounded in my ears.

  I threw the forklift into reverse and backed up. Roger hit the door again and it sprang open. He fell through the doorway from the lack of resistance, firing at me as he went down.

  I ducked, put the forklift in gear, and hit the accelerator, aiming for Roger. I would run him down if I had to. Roger had gotten to his feet and jumped back, but not before a prong sliced the side of his left leg.

  Roger screamed and twirled around. Blood gushed from the wound. I turned the forklift toward him. He dodged the metal blades, but one of the large tires caught him on the shoulder. Roger flew backward, arms flung out, his head hitting a worktable. The gun flew out of his hand as he dropped to the floor, motionless.

  I jumped out of the cab and grabbed the gun. I knew how to use a gun and wouldn’t hesitate if Roger tried anything. Backing into the studio, I spotted a phone on the wall next to the door. With my gaze never leaving Roger and the gun aimed at him, I took the receiver off the wall with my left hand and punched in 911.