Murder the Tey Way: A Golden Age of Mystery Book Club Mystery (The Golden Age of Mystery Book Club Mysteries 2)

by Marilyn Levinson

“Because we don’t want Felicity to find out we’re following her.”

  We laughed and rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Joy took various turns that struck me as familiar. “Is this the way to—?”

  “Sadie’s house,” Joy finished as Felicity pulled into Sadie’s driveway. She pressed the doorbell several times. Sadie opened the door and listened to what appeared to be an emotional tirade. Felicity was sobbing. When Sadie tried to interrupt, Felicity’s hands formed fists and struck her thighs repeatedly like an anvil. She never stopped talking, but she spoke too low for us to make out the words. Finally, Sadie stepped back and Felicity entered the house.

  “What was all that about?” I said, watching the door slam shut.

  Joy shook her head. “Haven’t the foggiest. Clearly, Felicity’s upset, but I couldn’t tell if she’s upset with Sadie or in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on.”

  “I had no idea the two of them were friends.”

  “Or why Felicity might be angry at Sadie,” Joy said.

  We stared at the house. Saw nothing. No new lights went on. Neither woman came out.

  After ten minutes passed, Joy turned on the motor. “I don’t have time for a stake out. I gotta get home.”

  “I suppose we’ll never find out what this was about,” I complained as we drove off.

  “You never know,” Joy said.

  It was uncanny how right she was. The ringing phone woke me early Saturday morning. It was Joy, telling me that Sadie had been found unconscious and was in the hospital.

  I struggled to sit up and grasp what she was saying, which was a bit too much to take in first thing in the morning.

  “How do you know?” I asked. “Who found her? When did this happen?”

  “Mike’s former partner, Terry, just called. He knows Sadie and I are in the book club together, and that the members are involved in the murders.”

  I winced as Joy continued. “Ron Alvarez found her around midnight.”

  “Midnight! What was he doing there at that hour?”

  “He claims he’s been keeping close tabs on Sadie since Tim died. He called, got no answer, so he went to see if she was all right. He knocked and rang the bell. Nothing. Then he peered through the window and saw her lying on the floor. He broke into the house and called for an ambulance.”

  “Sounds fishy to me,” I said. “Did you tell Terry we followed Felicity?”

  “I had to, since we saw her enter the house. When we left, she was still inside.”

  I swallowed. “That was around ten o’clock. She must have left before Sadie’s attacker broke in.”

  “The doctors think Sadie was unconscious for some time when Ron found her,” Joy said gently. “If he hadn’t broken into the house when he did, Sadie would have died.”

  I leaned against the backboard of my bed, suddenly feeling faint. “Are you trying to tell me Felicity struck Sadie?”

  “Not definitively, but there’s a huge possibility she did.’”

  My mind refused to accept the possibility. I had the overwhelming urge to run next door and hold Felicity in my arms. “You can’t believe she’s capable of harming anyone. She’s delicate. And fragile.”

  “And unstable. Think, Lexie. Unstable people wreak havoc.”

  I thought, not liking the images that came to mind. Still, I refused to think ill of Felicity. “She’s too gentle a soul to hurt Sadie.”

  “She’s from a mob family, Lex. As much as her mother might have protected her, she had to know that people were murdered on her father orders. These are values she learned consciously or unconsciously as she grew up. In the darkest recess of her mind, murder is an all-right solution if the people deserve it.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, and closed it again. As much as I didn’t want to agree, Joy’s argument made sense.

  “When are they coming for her?”

  “Any minute now.”

  I pulled on jeans and a sweater, determined to be present when the cops arrived to take Felicity in for questioning. I didn’t know why I felt so protective toward her, only that I did. Maybe it was to show I believed she wasn’t capable of striking Sadie.

  Or of murdering Len and Tim.

  Now what made me think of that?

  I flung open my front door and saw I was too late. Three black and whites were parked helter-skelter in front of the house next door. Corinne, flanked by a man and a woman, stood arguing with two of the cops while another pair of cops escorted Felicity to one of their cars. I couldn’t tell if she was in handcuffs.

  I reached Felicity just as a cop pushed her head down none too gently so she could climb into the back seat.

  “Easy there,” I said.

  The cop glared at me. “Step back, miss.”

  I ignored him and peered in at Felicity. She was sobbing noisily. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “I know you didn’t hurt Sadie,” I said as soothing as I could manage. “Is that your lawyer with Corinne?”

  “Mr. Coffey said he’ll be waiting for me at the station.”

  “Then who’s that talking to Corinne?”

  “That’s Barbara and her partner.” Felicity sniffed. “The police won’t listen to them.”

  Barbara? Of course. She was their WITSEC handler, I remembered, as someone yanked me away from the car. I stumbled backward and would have fallen if one of the cops hadn’t caught me.

  “Keep away from Felicity!” Corinne stood inches from me, her face contorted with rage.

  “I only want to—”

  “They’re dragging her off to jail because of you! I’ve told you before—stay out of our lives!”

  “I didn’t tell the police anything!”

  Corinne’s dark eyes were lasers that seemed to bore right through me. “You! Joy! What’s the difference? You both followed Felicity last night and fingered her to the cops.”

  My mouth fell open. How did she know?

  Corinne and I watched the car carrying Felicity drive off to the police station. When it disappeared from view, she stepped closer to me until our jackets nearly touched.

  “My sister can’t take much more of this. If anything happens to her, you and your pal will regret it for the rest of your lives.”

  Shaken, I ran home and double-locked the door. Corinne’s words cut me like a razor. When it came to Felicity, she was a tigress protecting her cub. For all Joy and I knew, Corinne had followed her sister last night and assaulted Sadie after Felicity left. How else could she have known that Joy and I were there, that Joy gave up Felicity to the police?

  But why would Corinne hurt Sadie? Was she so overprotective of Felicity that she didn’t want anyone else getting close to her? Sadie was a guidance counselor. Perhaps Felicity had turned to her for advice, and Sadie’s advice was to break away from her older sister.

  Or did it have something to do with Tim’s murder?

  Whatever the reason, I needed to tell Brian about Corinne’s behavior.

  Thinking of Brian cheered me up. I ate breakfast and realized I had something else to be cheerful about. Next week my son and his girlfriend were coming for Thanksgiving! Since Gayle was going to be on Long Island for the holiday, I decided to make it a real family occasion. To my great surprise, Jesse said he and Cici would be happy to fly out on Wednesday afternoon and stay until Saturday. How they managed to get tickets at this late date, I didn’t dare ask. With Brian, we’d be five.

  I ran errands in town, ending up at the supermarket where I filled my wagon with a frozen turkey, cranberries, sweet potatoes, and pineapple. When I got home, I called Rosie.

  “How are you, stranger? When do we get to see you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. Things here are hectic.”

  “Still dating your detective?”

  I drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

  Rosie burst out laughing. “It’s that bad, is it? What about Al?”

  “I’ll explain everything when he’s back in the U. S.”

 
; “Do they have any leads regarding that man they found murdered in your backyard?”

  “No, and another book club member was shot to death.”

  “Oh, no! I read about it in the newspaper. I didn’t realize you knew him, too.”

  I refrained from telling Rosie about last night’s attack on Sadie. Instead, I said, “Jesse’s coming for Thanksgiving. He’s bringing his girlfriend.”

  That led to a discussion about my son and Rosie’s three daughters. I asked for her Brussels sprouts and easy apple cake recipes, then invited her and Hal over for dinner the night after Thanksgiving. “This way you’ll get to meet Gayle and Cici.”

  “Are you sure you want to make dinner two nights in a row?” she asked.

  “I’ll have plenty of leftovers.”

  “Instead, why don’t you all come here on Friday night?” Rosie said. “It won’t be any trouble. Tara’s doing the family honors on Thursday. All I have to do is bring three side dishes.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll bring dessert.”

  Later that afternoon, I was dressing for my date with Brian, when the phone rang.

  “Hello, Lexie.”

  I swallowed. “Hello, Al.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting you. I know it’s going on seven o’clock in the States.”

  “I’m getting ready to go out with a few friends,” I lied. “He-they should be picking me up any minute now.”

  “Then I won’t keep you. I wanted to tell you I’m flying home next Friday. I was hoping to make it for Thanksgiving, but there were no flights available Monday through Thursday.”

  “Too bad,” I said as I silently exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “Any chance you can pick me up at the airport Friday afternoon?”

  My throat constricted. “I’m afraid I can’t. Jesse and his girlfriend are here for Thanksgiving weekend. So is my sister. We’re all going to Rosie and Hal’s for dinner on Friday.”

  Silence. No doubt Al was waiting for me to invite him to join us. He knew how close Rosie and I were, and that she’d never mind an extra guest. A giggle of nervous laughter nearly escaped as I pictured Al and Brian at her dining room table.

  Finally Al spoke. “Don’t worry yourself about it. I’ll be seeing my daughters on Saturday. We’ll have Sunday and Monday. I fly back to London Tuesday morning.”

  “Actually, Monday will be best,” I said, deliberately misunderstanding him. “My company leaves on Sunday. I’m driving Jesse and his girlfriend to the airport.”

  “Oh,” Al said, sounding puzzled and hurt. “In that case, I’ll see you on Monday. We’ve lots of catching up to do.”

  “Yes, we do,” I agreed.

  I hung up, feeling awful. I was such a wimp when it came to breaking bad news. Al assumed I was still his girlfriend, which I wasn’t. Brian was my guy. Telling Al wasn’t going to be easy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Corinne didn’t knock Sadie unconscious. Viola did.”

  “What? How could I have gotten it so wrong?” I must have looked foolish with my mouth open, because Brian let out a belly laugh.

  It earned him disapproving scowls from the couple sitting next to us along the banquette of the upscale Italian restaurant where we were dining. Brian ignored them. He did, however, lower his voice to a near whisper as he explained.

  “You heard me. Viola struck Sadie. She claims she didn’t mean to. Her story is she went over to Sadie’s to tell her to stop badmouthing her in school. Sadie shoved her, she pushed back, Sadie fell, and Viola ran.”

  I nodded. “So that’s why Ron went over there—to make sure Sadie was all right.”

  “Viola sent him.”

  I had trouble letting go of my version of the situation. “Are you sure Corinne didn’t attack Sadie?”

  Brian reached across the candle-lit table to cover my hand with his. “Positive.”

  I shuddered. “Corinne’s so fierce, she scares me.”

  “She’s usually fired up on her sister’s behalf.”

  I sighed. “I wish they’d move already.”

  He pursed his lips. “Barbara Stengel, their WITSEC marshal, is working on it, but it’s turned into a complicated situation.”

  “I thought once a cover is blown, WITSEC resettles people in a different location ASAP.”

  “They do, when their clients cooperate. Corinne wants to leave Ryesdale.” He hesitated. “And she wants to quit WITSEC.”

  I stared at him in surprise. “Really? Why? Isn’t she afraid of Johnny Scarvino?”

  Brian examined the nails of his right hand. “Johnny Scarvino’s out of the picture.”

  “Dead, you mean?”

  “He was shot in a holdup a few days ago. The Jersey police notified WITSEC; their marshal informed Corinne and Felicity.”

  I shuddered. “Poor Johnny.”

  Brian laughed. “Why do you say that? You never knew him.”

  “I saw him, remember? The night he delivered the baby gift. He seemed kind of nice.”

  “For a thug.”

  “He didn’t strike me as a thug,” I mused. “Was he the only person out to get Corinne?”

  “Looks that way. Which is why Corinne wants out of WITSEC. Now she refuses to move until a buyer comes along, one who’s willing to pay a good price for the house. Barbara Stengel thinks Corinne ought to remain in WITSEC, at least for a while, and she’s trying to convince her to reconsider.”

  The waiter brought our bottle of wine. He decanted and filled our glasses. Brian and I toasted one another silently and sipped.

  “Felicity must be relieved Johnny Scarvino’s no longer a threat to her sister.”

  “No doubt,” Brian agreed, “but Felicity has her own weird agenda regarding Corinne. When I drove her home from the precinct, she told me she’d gone to Sadie’s house to talk to her because Sadie understands how she feels.”

  “About Corinne?”

  Brian nodded. “Felicity wants to stay in Ryesdale. She doesn’t want to live with Corinne any longer. She went on and on in this vein.” He gave me a sad smile. “When I dropped her at home, she made me promise not to tell Corinne what she’s planning, then ran straight into her sister’s arms and held on for dear life.”

  I sighed. “Felicity’s conflicted. It’s difficult breaking away from a bossy, overprotective sister. Frankly, I wonder if she can manage to live on her own.”

  Brian smiled. “She’s had the good sense to make a start in that direction. She told me her boss, Carol Barnes, is willing to rent her a small apartment over her garage. She’ll have privacy yet be living close enough to someone she trusts.”

  “Is that the word Felicity used—“trusts?”

  “It is.”

  “Which makes me think she doesn’t trust Corinne.”

  “I think you’re reading too much into their relationship.” Brian raised his glass. “Enough about them. Let’s drink up and enjoy ourselves.”

  *****

  The next few days were a whirlwind of activity as I dove into my Thanksgiving preparations. For the first time in months, I set aside thoughts of murder and mayhem to concentrate on domestic matters. A nervous excitement sparked through me as I wandered through Bed, Bath, & Beyond in search of the perfect tablecloth and napkins.

  All the while, my mind never stopped churning out questions:

  Were things serious between Jesse and Cici?

  How would Jesse and Brian get along?

  Would my turkey come out of the oven succulent and tender or tough and dried-out?

  How would Al respond when I told him we were no longer a couple?

  The Billingses brought their granddaughter home on Sunday. Though they were thoroughly exhausted, they insisted on inviting the original book club members to their home on Tuesday evening to meet Eloisa. We agreed on the condition that they allow us to bring in dinner. And so at seven o’clock Joy, Felicity, Corinne, and I knocked on their door, each of us with a casserole or dessert in hand. Sadie wanted to come, but
we told her to stay home and rest.

  Marge and Evan were exuberant as they presented us to Eloisa, an adorable three-year-old girl with fair skin and dark hair and eyes, wearing pink pajamas. She took one look at us and ran to stand behind Marge’s legs, all the while never letting us out of her sight.

  I crouched down and smiled. “Hola, Eloisa. ¿Cómo estás?”

  “Bien,” she mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

  To my surprise, Corinne knelt beside me and rattled off something in Spanish. It must have been something silly, because Eloisa giggled and answered her. As this continued, the rest of us gathered closer to watch them. Finally, Eloisa dashed away.

  “Where is she going?” Joy asked.

  “To get some of her new toys for me to see,” Corinne explained.

  “Isn’t Corinne something?” Felicity asked, beaming with pride.

  “She’s something, all right,” I murmured, thinking that Felicity would never muster up enough courage to tell Corinne she wanted to live on her own.

  We oohed and ahed over the toys we’d bought for Eloisa. After coffee and cake, we said our good-byes. Evan, his granddaughter in his arms, saw us to the door. Marge embraced Corinne.

  “You’ll never know how happy you’ve made us,” she said.

  Corinne smiled. “I like to see happy families.”

  *****

  I woke up early Thanksgiving Day, happily anticipating the long holiday weekend. Puss meowed as he ushered me into the kitchen. Full house, I thought as I passed the closed doors of my two guestrooms. Gayle was asleep in one, Jesse and Cici in the other. For once I felt part of mainstream America, sharing my favorite holiday with my loved ones.

  I fed Puss, put up a large pot of coffee, then whipped up my sweet potato casserole. I seasoned the turkey and was sliding it into the oven for a slow roasting, when Jesse padded barefooted into the kitchen. He bent down to kiss my cheek. Then he sniffed the air.

  “Smells great, Mom.”

  “Did you sleep well? I’ve no idea if the mattress in your room is comfortable or not.”

  “It’s fine, mom. Cici’s still zonked out, and she doesn’t sleep well in new places.”

  Interesting.