He arched a brow. “Really? How so?”
I glanced around the lobby. People were starting to come in and converge around the entrance to the dining room. I motioned to a secluded alcove. “Let’s talk there.”
“You two go,” Leila said. She brandished her phone. “I just got a call from my editor that I have to take.”
I spent the next ten minutes giving Will the Cliffs Notes version of what I’d learned so far regarding Ken, Savannah, and Candy. “You have to admit they’ve all got pretty good motives,” I finished. “They could each have done it alone, or they could have worked together. And let’s not leave out Ken’s wife, Cathy. She’s supposed to have some sort of history with Ulla, and she just served her cheating husband with divorce papers. But maybe that wasn’t enough revenge for her. Maybe she wanted to kill Ulla and make sure her ex was blamed for it.”
Will pulled on his earlobe. “A little melodramatic, don’t you think? We interviewed Cathy Colgate, and she didn’t seem the murderous type.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah, well, Ted Bundy didn’t either.”
The corners of Will’s lips twitched upward. “I’d hardly compare the soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Colgate with a serial killer. Look.” He put his thumb under my chin and tilted my head up so he could look into my eyes. “I know you’re trying to help, and I do appreciate it, but right now, it might do more harm than good, especially if Charlie should get wind of it. He wouldn’t hesitate, Syd, to arrest you for interfering in a police investigation, and there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop him.”
“Even if the interfering helps catch a killer?”
Now he let out a low chuckle. “Especially in that case.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I had him pegged as the sore-loser type.” I wrinkled my nose. “Will, you’ve got to let me help you. The thought of Callahan getting Bennington’s job gets under my skin.”
“Think how I feel,” he said with a wry grin. “I have to say, though, his giant ego aside, the guy is a good investigator. He’s already turned up a few leads—and no, I can’t share that with you,” he said before I could speak. He patted my arm. “I appreciate your support, but right now the biggest help you could give me is getting out of here before he comes back, okay?”
“Fine.” I started to move away, then turned. “Can you at least tell me if the coroner’s report came in?”
He hesitated and then said, “Yep. We got it early this morning.”
“Did Ulla die from an allergic reaction? Or can’t you share that detail with a civilian?”
“As a matter of fact, I can, since certain details will be made public later. COD was definitely an allergic reaction.”
“Dare I press my luck and ask to what?” I said as he lapsed into silence.
“I can’t share the details, but I will tell you this—it wasn’t to anything she drank or ate. Frankly, it’s puzzling.”
I frowned. “What’s puzzling? Her allergy?”
“No, just how she might have been exposed to it.”
My frown deepened, and he wagged his finger in my face. “I probably shouldn’t even have told you that much.… You and Leila had better scoot.” He leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “We do have a good lead, though, so hopefully we can get this wrapped up very soon—maybe even in time for us to go out this Friday.”
“That would be nice.” I hesitated and then said, “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about. Someone slipped this into my jacket pocket last night. I reached into my purse, pulled out the note, and handed it to him. Will unfolded it, read it, and then raised his gaze to meet mine.
“Looks like a warning to me,” he said. “One I’m pretty sure you’re not going to pay attention to, right?”
“Well, of course I’m going to exercise extra caution. But back off entirely? Heck no.” I jabbed my finger at the note. “Think you could get any prints off it?”
“Doubtful, but I’ll give it a shot.” He folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. “You’ve heard me say this before, but here it is again: Be careful, Syd. Please do not take any unnecessary risks. Promise me.”
“Of course.” He kept staring at me, so I added, “I promise.”
He sighed. “Why don’t I believe you? Look, I’ve got to get going. Remember what I said.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried off. I motioned to Leila, and the two of us left the hotel and went back to my car. Once we were inside with the motor running, Leila pulled out her iPhone.
“Listen to this,” she said. “Captain Connolly confirmed Ulla Townsend died from an allergic reaction.”
“I know. Will just told me.”
“Did he also tell you that they’re widening their suspect pool?”
I gripped the steering wheel hard. Widening the suspect pool was not good news, because they could mean they were looking at other people, most likely ones from Ulla’s past who might have been at the event. And if that were the case, I had a pretty good idea who they’d be focusing on first.
“You said before Will waylaid you that you had an idea.” Leila’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Parker wants me to cover a ceremony at the Town Hall in Weddington, but I don’t have to leave until two, so till then I’m all yours.”
“Will said the police already interviewed Cathy Colgate but I’d like to pay her a visit myself. See if I can get her to tell me what her connection to Ulla is. She visited the shelter last week and started to fill out an adoption application, so I’m hoping that it’s still on file.”
As it turned out, it was but it took us until almost two o’clock to find it because Cathy had filled it out under her maiden name, MacGregor. I dropped Leila off at home so she could change before Jim picked her up, then swung by my sister’s apartment. Her car wasn’t in the driveway, and I remembered she’d mentioned visiting some friends today, so I decided to make the trek to the other end of Deer Park solo. First, however, I called Cathy MacGregor on the pretext of discussing her adoption application with her. She sounded very cordial and excited at the prospect of giving one of the Friendly Paws residents a “furever home,” so I was very optimistic as I turned my convertible toward the north end of town, where the MacGregor home was located.
Once I arrived at the large, wrought-iron gate that bore the initial M emblazoned on it, I had to press a button on the black box next to it and state my name and business before the gate opened and I could pass through. I drove for nearly five minutes down a winding, graveled road that opened into a wide clearing. Off to the left was an enormous white building that did, indeed, resemble the plantation Tara in Gone with the Wind, right down to the large columns on the front porch. I half expected to see Scarlett or Rhett at the front door as I rang the bell. Instead, a tiny woman in a gray and white maid’s uniform greeted me with a brisk “Afternoon” before leading me through an entryway that glowed from Victorian lamps reflecting off the dark wood paneling of the walls, past a wide, curving staircase and into a beautifully furnished parlor. A fireplace, complete with burning fire, was at the far end, a chintz-covered loveseat positioned directly opposite. I walked over and was admiring the landscape portrait above it when I heard someone clear her throat.
“Ms. McCall?”
I whirled and did an immediate double take. Cathy Colgate certainly looked a lot different from the last time I’d seen her. Her hair wasn’t hanging in strings today; now it was softly curled and framed her tiny face like a halo. She had on a becoming shade of blush and lipstick, and she wore a formfitting, cranberry-colored sheath that hugged the slender curves of her body. I smiled and held out my hand.
“Yes. It’s nice to formally meet you, Mrs. Colgate—or should I call you Ms. MacGregor?”
“Cathy will do just fine. Shall we sit?”
She motioned me to the loveseat, and I dutifully sat down. The same maid who’d answered the door appeared, bearing a silver tray on which rested an ornate silver tea service. She set the tray on the
coffee table and withdrew. Cathy looked at me. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
As Cathy poured tea for both of us, I reached inside my tote bag and pulled out the application. “Vi, one of our volunteers, said that you were interested in adopting a cat. However, you never completed the application.”
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I suddenly remembered I had to meet my attorney, and I was running late.” Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “I had to sign the final papers for filing. I meant to come back, but …” She spread her hands. “Time just got away from me. I thought I’d be able to finish it at the event, but Ken irritated me, so I left early.” She fiddled with the edge of her napkin. “He thought I was kidding about the divorce. Probably my fault. I’d threatened many times before but never followed through. Circumstances, however, changed.” She reached for the application. “It was sweet of you to remember me.”
“I’m always glad to find one of our Friendly Paws residents a home,” I replied. I picked up the teacup and took a small sip. “Did you get a chance to look over the cats when you visited the shelter?”
“Oh, yes. There was one I liked. Honey Bunny. Is she still there? I didn’t recall seeing her at the event.”
I remembered the cat, a beautiful, long-haired one with big blue eyes. “I’m pretty sure she is. She’s an older cat, and we didn’t take her to the event because she can be skittish at times.”
“I can’t blame the poor thing. With all those people, I was a bit skittish myself,” Cathy remarked. “Have you got a pen?”
I pulled one out of my bag, and we sat in silence for a few moments while Cathy finished the application. After she signed it with a flourish and handed me back the paper and pen, I said casually, “I imagine you saw Ulla at the event. You and she were close, weren’t you?”
“Who told you that? Ken?” Cathy’s tone dripped with scorn. “He was probably trying to divert attention away from himself. He was a lot closer with her than I ever was. I only knew her briefly from high school.”
I had to grip the stem of the cup tightly to keep from dropping it. “You went to the same high school?” A mental picture rose in my mind, and I let out a sharp gasp. “You were in the Glee Club with Ulla, weren’t you? I happened to see a photo of the club in a friend’s old yearbook recently,” I added quickly.
Cathy took a sip of tea before answering. “I know the photo you’re referring to. That picture is deceptive. We weren’t always as happy a group as we appeared to be. I was one of the few juniors in that club, and I was always getting picked on. Ulla was by far the worst.”
I took another sip of tea. It tasted good and bracing, and I’m not a big tea fan. “What do you mean? Ulla was a bully?”
Cathy bobbed her head up and down. “Oh, yes. One of the worst. I think it was because she’d been bullied and ridiculed so much herself. As I said, I was only a junior, but I heard the stories.” The corners of her lips tugged downward. “These days Ulla would have never gotten away with half the stuff she pulled back then.”
“She touched on the subject a bit in her book,” I ventured.
“So I heard.” Cathy leaned in a bit closer to me and said, “You know the girl in the book, the one who got itching powder put in her Coke?” She tapped at her chest. “That was me.”
I kept my expression neutral. “You must have been furious with her at the time.”
“Back then it didn’t pay to get furious with Ulla. She’d only pay you back double. She pulled lots of other pranks on me, but they were mild compared to some of the things she did to others.” She leaned in a bit closer to me and said, “I heard she snuck into a party once and slipped liquor into the punch. That ended up a real mess, or so I heard. Thank God, my father pulled me out of Deer Park High and stuck me in that ritzy private school right afterward. Private school girls can be snotty and mean, but none of them could hold a candle to Ulla.”
Now that Cathy had started talking, she didn’t seem to want to stop. She leaned toward me and said in a confidential tone, “Ulla wasn’t just in Deer Park for that signing. Ken called it her “rehabilitation tour.” They were keeping it hush-hush, but she was seeing a therapist—wanted to work through her ‘anger issues.’ ” She drew air quotes around the last two words before letting out a sharp laugh. “More like insanity issues, if you ask me. Of course, the real reason behind this sudden surge of humanity was Glow. She’d heard the top brass thought she was too confrontational. Anyway, the therapist convinced her that to maintain her mental well-being, she had to attempt to reconcile the bad feelings. Face those she wronged and make amends.”
I looked her square in the eye. “Did she face you?”
Cathy’s lips thinned. “She tried to. She called me several times, but I hung up on her. Then she tried to approach me at the signing. Said that there were some things I should know about Ken that would make up for all the pain she’d caused me in the past. I told her she couldn’t possibly tell me anything about my cheating husband that I didn’t already know, including the fact she’d slept with him. She was more than welcome to him—as are all his other lovers.” Cathy’s tone grew wistful. “I put up with all of his cheating for years because I didn’t have much choice. My father wanted nothing to do with me after I married Ken, but he always knew I’d come to my senses someday. That’s why he left me his fortune.”
She set her cup down, and I noticed her hand was trembling. “I hated her,” she murmured. “I hated her, but I certainly would never have wished her harm. I guess the fact that she died quickly was a blessing for her.” She shook her head. “Have they determined what caused her attack yet?”
I twisted in my seat so I could look right in her eyes. “It was due to an allergic reaction.”
“She had allergies? That seems so … trite somehow. I guess I just never realized allergies could be fatal.”
She bowed her head, and I sat there, studying her. Was her reaction sincere, or could she be acting? The woman impressed me as a straight shooter. If she’d been aware of Ulla’s allergies, she would have said so.
I set down my cup and rose. “Well, thank you for the tea and the conversation,” I said. I slid the finished application into my bag. “I’ll see this is processed quickly so that you can pick up Honey Bunny.”
We walked down the hallway to the front door. “It will be so nice to have a feline companion,” she said. “Someone who will love me unconditionally, someone I can count on.” She sounded so sad that I found myself feeling a bit sorry for her. She opened the front door, but I paused just before I crossed the threshold.
“One more question, if you don’t mind. When you were in high school, did you ever hear of anyone called Miggs?”
She pursed her lips. “Miggs? That’s an unusual name.”
“I thought perhaps it might have been Ulla’s nickname for someone?”
“Now that’s a possibility. Ulla had nicknames for everyone.” Cathy’s nose wrinkled as she thought. “There’s only one person I could think of that it might fit. She and Ulla hated each other. Her name was Maggie. Maggie Shayne.”
That was what I’d feared she’d say. I forced a smile to my lips and said my goodbyes, then got in my car and drove off, my stomach roiling. My visit with Cathy MacGregor had only served to intensify my worry over Maggie being involved in some way with Ulla’s passing. I drove past Maggie’s house again, but all the blinds were still drawn, and there was no car in the driveway, no sign of life. I called Rhonda and asked if she’d heard from Maggie. Of course, the answer was no. I had the feeling that even if Rhonda had heard from Maggie, she wouldn’t share that information.
I drove by Kat’s place and spotted her car in the driveway, so I parked behind it, got out and rang the front doorbell. A few minutes later Kat opened the door. “Wow, you’ve got good radar. I only got home a few minutes ago.” She peered at me. “You look upset. There’s nothing wrong at the shelter, is there?”
“No, everything’s fine there. But I’ve h
ad a rather eventful day.”
“You look like you lost your last friend.” She slipped her arm around my shoulders. “Come in and tell big sis all about it.”
I allowed her to lead me into her homey kitchen, where she immediately brought out a platter of chocolate-chip cookies—my favorite—and a pitcher of sweet tea. In between bites and sips, I brought her up to date on the day’s happenings, ending with my visit to Cathy Colgate and what she’d said about Maggie. Kat listened impassively and, when I’d finished, leaned back in her chair, just staring off into space for several minutes. At length, she looked over at me and said, “I agree, on the surface it sounds bad. But I’ve known Maggie a long time, Syd. She’s not capable of killing someone.”
“Per Will, everyone is capable of murder, given the right circumstances.”
“Of course Will would say something like that. He’s a detective; they’re supposed to be cynical. I’m telling you, no matter how much Maggie might have disliked Ulla, she’d never have killed her.”
I took another sip of my sweet tea, set the glass down, then laced my fingers behind my head. “I sure hope you’re right. You didn’t hear how Maggie sounded that day, though. I could almost hear the venom in her tone when Maggie talked about Ulla. Whatever it was that went down between them had to have been bad—really bad.”
“Putting itching powder in Coke isn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Kat said, wrinkling her nose. “How do you know this Cathy Colgate didn’t have something to do with Ulla’s death? Just because she says she didn’t?”
“I don’t,” I admitted. “But when you add it all up—Maggie making an appearance at an event she said she wouldn’t go near with a twenty-foot pole, then pulling a disappearing act …”
“It’s not like she just vanished,” Kat protested. “She texted you and me that she needed some time off.”
“You don’t think it’s odd that she texted instead of calling?”
“Not really. She always texts, and she’s always sparse on details. She’s a very private person.”
“Yeah, well, this time being private could cost her—a lot.”
Death by a Whisker Page 17