Claire nodded.
Happiness. She’d been thinking about that a lot lately, and sometimes it seemed like a completely foreign word.
Maybe someday she’d learn what it meant.
Chapter 14
“You know what you need, Claire?” Molly asked as she stabbed a beading needle through a set of cobalt blue beads, then plunged the needle into a scrap of leather. “You need a bit of adventure.”
Claire had her chin tucked down, puzzling over the craft project Molly had asked her to try. She glanced up, her expression skeptical and her hands still trying to twist the short piece of silver wire into a figure eight like Molly had instructed her. After a nice late lunch together and a glass of chardonnay each, she’d been having a great time visiting with Molly in her snug little apartment a couple blocks off of Brightwood Bay’s downtown. Now, Claire was starting to regret her offer to help put together the last batch of custom jewelry orders Molly had promised to deliver before Christmas. Her new friend had a tendency to chat quite a bit while they were working, and to ask some pointed questions that were meant to be kind but were starting to rankle a bit.
Claire smiled but shook her head, adamant. “Adventure? Are you kidding? When’s the last time you had some dead guy practically land on you when you opened the front door?” She gave a snort of dismissal. “No, thanks. No more adventure for me, please. I’ve already reached my target heart rate several times since I’ve been here in Brightwater Bay, and that’s more excitement than I need.”
Molly chuckled and reached over to take the hopelessly-tangled wire from Claire. “I’m not talking about bad adventure, like finding a dead guy and breaking down by the side of the road. I’m talking about something good, like learning a new skill or something like that.” She looked at Claire, sympathy in every bit of her expression. “I know you’re still recovering from losing your husband, but there’s a whole beautiful world out there, and it sounds like you’ve spent a long time grieving. I know I haven’t been through the same horrible ordeal you have, losing someone you love like that, but after all you’ve said about how hard it has been since your husband died, I have to wonder if you need something to look forward to.” She paused, as if trying to be gentle. “Not just something to run away from.”
Claire’s first reaction was anger, then defensiveness. “Don’t you think I’d like to have my life back again?” she asked angrily. “Every day since Douglas died it feels like all I’ve done is try to keep on breathing. I just muddle through everything as best as I can.” There was an uncomfortable catch in her voice and she took a deep breath to try to suppress it. She looked down at the table. “I still have some tough days sometimes, and I’m still trying to figure out how to move forward with my life.”
The silence between the two friends was thick and tense, until finally Molly reached out a gentle hand and set it over Claire’s. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through, Claire, and I’m really sorry if what I said came out all wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just saying I’d like to see you…happy.” She patted Claire’s cold hand. “You deserve it. You’re a good person. I can tell.”
“Maybe,” Claire said. She thought back to the mistakes she’d make in her life, and the fact she’d have to get an accounting job again when she got back to Arizona. She could see the bland, predictable shape her life would become, and tried not to think about it too much. Sometimes it was better to just accept the way things were.
Picking up the next strand of silver wire, she was just about to select some beads from the nearby train when there was a frantic pounding on the door, making them both jump. Just as Molly stood up to see who it was, the door flew open with a loud bang. Daisy was standing on the front step, wheezing with exertion, her eyes wide with fright.
“Molly, he’s after me! He was right outside my place!” she blurt out as she quickly stepped into the room. Molly instantly shut the door behind her and locked the deadbolt, then peeked out from behind the front window curtain to see who was lurking outside.
“Who’s after you? What’s going on, Daisy?” Claire asked, standing up and ushering her frightened landlord to a nearby chair.
Daisy’s face was chalk-gray with shock and near-hysteria. “Dexter!” she gasped. “Lucy was driving by, taking Edgar home and he saw Dexter crouched in the hydrangea bushes outside my kitchen window.” She gave a dramatic shiver. “He came running up the walkway to tell me and Dexter ran off. I called 911 and Officer Bell is over there now, and supposedly Darryl is on his way, too. They’re going to search the place to make sure he’s gone but you know what this means, don’t you?” She clutched onto the sleeve of Molly’s thick sweater, her eyes wide with fear. “It means he’s come back to town, and he wants something from me. Maybe something he wanted from his stepbrother.”
Claire could see instant resolve on Molly’s face. “Then you’re staying here with me until they give the all clear, and I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said firmly. Turning toward the kitchen counter, she rummaged in the cupboard and then turned around again, a wineglass in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
“What’s better for an occasion like this? Caffeine or wine?”
Daisy gave a shaky laugh. “Wine would be great. Thanks,” she said, gratefully accepting the nearly-full glass that Molly poured.
By the time they’d gotten Daisy calmed down a bit and she’d taken a few shaky sips of her wine, Molly’s cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. The women stopped talking as Molly tapped the button to answer.
“Uh-huh. I see. Yes, thank you, Darryl.” Her gaze flicked toward Daisy. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell her. I think she’s going to spend some time here with me.” She touched the screen again and set the phone down, her usually cheerful face deadly serious. “Darryl says they didn’t find Dexter, but they did discover what looked like a pair of footprints under your back window.”
Daisy’s eyes were huge, and Claire could see her thinking over the fact someone may have been outside her home. “You’re safe here,” she reassured Daisy, and Molly nodded in agreement.
“My neighbors are the best, and they keep a close eye on anyone coming or going in the apartment complex. Also, we’re on the second floor so you don’t have to worry about anything lurking outside the windows. If they tried, they’d have use a ladder or they’d have a pretty nasty fall.”
It took cvanother hour or so of them talking before Daisy seemed to be back to normal. By late afternoon she’d calmed down enough to help assemble the last few pieces of jewelry that Molly was making, and had been laughing at some of Molly’s stories about her dating life. With final hugs all around, Claire said goodbye and promised to text them as soon as she got home. With a final smile and wave, she stepped outside and headed down the stairs to the nearby street. The winter air was cold but calm and still, and Claire felt a deep sense of contentment as she walked toward the small rental cottage that was their temporary home. She’d been able to help Daisy when she needed it, and even the silly conversations and jokes had been a fun way to spend an afternoon. It had been a long time since she’d had a day like that with female friends, and she had to admit that she liked the feeling very much indeed.
Chapter 15
The daylight was starting to fade, but the bright snow added an extra glow to the late afternoon at Brightwater Bay. Claire had learned to enjoy walking in the snow, especially since Daisy had lent her a very good pair of snow boots that kept her feet toasty warm. Strolling down the deserted main street of Brightwater, watching the streetlights starting to flicker in the twilight, Claire could tell that almost everyone had finished their shopping already. Most of the little shops were already closed up for the day, and some were closed for the holidays, or even for the entire winter season. There were only a few picked-over Christmas trees at the Boy Scouts’ tree lot, and a lone wreath hung forlornly on the chain-link fence, abandoned.
Claire was glad it had stopped snowing, and that she hadn’t brough
t Roscoe with her. The snow was deep enough he would’ve really struggled to walk so far, and even though he still enjoyed the novelty of rolling in the white stuff, she didn’t want him out in it too much. He wasn’t the type of dog who had a thick winter undercoat, and she knew he’d get cold fairly quickly.
As she was walking along, a single green car parked in an alleyway caught her eye. She’d seen plenty of cars parked around the main street during the day, but with everything closed down and it being so late it was unusual to see one with a hatchback that was cracked open several inches. The car was an older Subaru, and when Claire saw the dome light was on inside the car, she realized that the owner had left the door open. The light was going to drain the battery within a matter of hours, or maybe less. Crunching through the snow, she walked over and looked in the back window, hoping to get a clue of the owner’s identity or find someone nearby so she could let them know their light was on.
There were a couple of cardboard boxes in the back, and she could make out several tools in the first one, including a crowbar and an assortment of wrenches. Looking closer, she could see a metal dish sticking out partway from underneath a plaid travel blanket. When she leaned over, even closer, she could see something that made her heart catch in her throat. She blinked, trying to be sure she was seeing what she thought she was.
The metal pie tin was stamped with the word BRIGHTWATER RESORT. In it was a single, leftover piece of pumpkin pie.
The low voice came from beside her, from a doorway in the alley. “Hey, Claire. how’s it going?” With a sudden, sickening realization, she knew who the killer was, and she knew he was standing in the doorframe, looking at her.
Calm, she thought. Must stay calm. Maybe I can find a way out of this.
Slowly, she turned and raised her eyes to look at Edgar, only to find him staring back at her. His eyes were flat and lifeless, like the dark eyes of a shark.
“I asked you how’s it going.”
Claire did her best to keep her voice calm and friendly. “Going fine. I’m just heading home.”
“I see you were looking in the back of my car.”
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest and unsure what to say as she slowly started to edge down the alleyway toward the open street. “Um, you left your dome light on. I was worried your car battery was going to die.”
He walked toward her with predatory patience and glanced in the back of his car, his voice slightly raised. “You saw the pie tin, didn’t you?”
It took every ounce of her courage to answer him. “What pie tin?”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Edgar leaped toward her with furious speed. With a small scream, Claire pivoted around, her feet pelting in the snow as she tried to run out of the alley, to where people could see her.
Only, there were no other people. The street was completely deserted. Even with as fast as she ran, she was a full yard away from being out of the alley when Edgar’s hand shot out and grabbed her knit scarf from behind. She gasped in shock as he yanked her sharply backwards, then slammed her into the brick wall next to him. Panting with exertion, he gripped her throat with both of his broad hands, his furious face inches from hers.
Keep him talking, Claire thought desperately.
“You’re looking for something. You’re searching for the jewels, aren’t you?” She said, her breath coming out in frantic gasps. “It’s something about the bakery equipment, all that equipment that Mrs. Applegate sold when she got new stuff, isn’t it? That’s why it was all tipped over and the bakery was ransacked…”
Edgar’s eyes were slits of hatred. “Just because Orrin didn’t tell me where he hid those jewels didn’t mean they weren’t mine, too! We got them together from the old lady and we should’ve split them together!”
“So, you followed him around when he got out of prison. He was trying to figure out where the equipment was that he’d stashed them in, wasn’t he?” Her eyes were darting sideways, hoping to catch any hint of motion from another person on the street. Claire took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure as her mind frantically tried to find a way out of the tightening grip that was slowly making her see dark spots swimming before her eyes.
“The Dogwood Café, then the resort bakery…you searched them both, in case you missed anything…” She was doing her best to keep conscious, her breath coming in wheezing gasps.
“I couldn’t search the Café during the day, when everyone was around,” Edgar muttered, but Claire almost didn’t hear him. “And Lucy won’t let me have a key. Says I haven’t proved myself yet.”
She mustered the last bit of breath she had in her. “But Daisy had bought the old equipment…”
“…for her new coffeeshop. I was hoping to keep her away from this place long enough for me to search it and that worked out just fine.” His smile was all teeth, mirthless. “Now I can finally leave this stupid town, with all the jewelry I can sell.” His voice turned flat, cold as his grip tightened on Claire’s neck. “Just one more little thing to do…”
Claire’s eyelids were fluttering closed, a horrible, final darkness swirling around the edges her vision. She heard a tremendous crack in front of her and the terrible tightness around her neck was suddenly, mercifully released. Her knees buckled, every ounce of her strength drained from her body, but someone caught her as she pitched forward. Gasping with relief, she could feel the fresh blood rushing to her oxygen-starved brain as she clutched at the strong arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” a soft voice said in her ear.
Epilogue
From the moment Claire walked into Mrs. Applegate’s festively-decorated house, she knew she was welcome. She had debated about whether she was brave enough to accept the older lady’s kind invitation to Christmas Day lunch, but after a bit of encouragement from Scott and Molly, she’d given in. She’d even accepted Scott’s offer of a ride to the party, even if their close proximity in the warm car seemed rather awkward.
To be honest, she’d even been a bit intimidated by the sheer size of the Tudor home when she’d driven up with Scott, and when they’d arrived and gotten out of the car she’d hesitated, not sure about going in. He’d had seen her nervousness and simply offered his arm with a reassuring smile. Together, they’d walked up the snowy front walkway, and that helped make her feel more at ease.
The wooden front door had an enormous cedar wreath on it, and tall greenery topiaries wrapped in white lights and decorated with red Christmas ornaments stood on each side. Scott rang the doorbell, and the heavy front door cracked open.
“Merry Christmas!” Mrs. Applegate exclaimed with a note of glee. “Oh, I’m so glad you both made it.” She quickly drew them inside and gave each a huge hug. “Scott, thanks so much for driving her,” she said, then looped a friendly arm through Claire’s. “I kind of figured you don’t feel comfortable driving in the snow yet, honey,” she explained.
“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Claire said breathlessly. She pulled off her coat and handed it to a young man standing behind Mrs. Applegate. As she heard the laughter and happy chatter from the other room she felt the old shyness creep over her. It wasn’t just that she was going to a party with people she didn’t know. This felt like going to a real family holiday party, where everyone knew the secret little jokes and stories that knit people together, and Claire couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward.
Her nervousness was unfounded. As they walked into the huge front room, it became immediately apparent that almost everyone was eager to talk to Claire. With a gift bottle of white wine still clutched in her hands, Claire was stunned at the warm welcome she was given. At first, she thought she was the object of so much interest because people wanted to learn more about what had happened with Edgar and Mrs. Freeman’s jewels, but she began to gradually understand that a lot of the friendliness aimed toward her wasn’t about the murder investigation or Edgar’s capture. It was simple pleasure at getting to know her, and the unbridled j
oy of celebrating Christmas Day with other people. Both these things were new to her, and she drank them in like water.
When the ham dinner was finally served, she was seated at one of the elaborately-decorated tables, across from Scott and next to Molly. The food was sumptuous and the conversation full of laughter and jokes. Looking down the row, she was surprised how many people she knew from town. Darryl Portman and his sullen wife were seated halfway down the table, and the gossiping baker, Sandy, waved at her from two tables over. Daisy was clutching a wineglass and locked in a quiet conversation with a middle-aged man who had a neatly-trimmed beard and a look of rapt admiration on his face. From Daisy’s expression, it was entirely possible the feeling was mutual.
During dinner, it took a while to tell and re-tell the whole tale of what had happened with Orrin and Edgar, even if most of it had already been printed in a huge article in the local paper, and in several nearby large city papers as well. As people peppered her and Darryl with questions the truth finally emerged.
The best news was that no one else had gotten hurt. Scott had been worried about Claire walking in the snow all the way home, so he had hopped in his SUV and gone looking for her when she hadn’t answered repeated texts to her phone. He’d only caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, but it was enough for him to stop his car and jump out. Quickly picking up a nearby brick, he’d cracked Edgar across the back of the head just as Edgar was strangling the life out of Claire. The bruises around her neck were an ugly reminder of how close she’d come to losing her life, but after a day at the local hospital she’d been released to go back to her cottage and had convalesced there. Roscoe had seemed to understand that something bad had happened to her, and was her constant shadow whenever she moved from room to room.
A Little Taste Of Murder_A Brightwater Bay Cozy Mystery Page 9