“Were you acquainted with Simeon Snowe?” Dan asked.
Rowena hesitated. “I knew him.”
“Any idea why he’d plant a maze?” Liss asked.
“I wouldn’t have taken him for the fanciful sort. Then again, I wouldn’t have thought he’d take off without telling anyone, either.” Liss heard the deep sadness in Rowena’s voice and noticed the faraway look that came into her eyes.
“We’ve been told he wandered off and got lost,” Dan said.
Abruptly, Rowena shook off her melancholy and gave a derisive snort. “Highly unlikely.”
“Perhaps he met with an accident and couldn’t get back to the house,” Liss suggested.
“Well, it hardly matters now,” Rowena declared. “If he could have come back, he would have. He’s dead and gone, and those left behind have to move on. The great mandala, eh?”
Liss didn’t understand the reference, but she nodded, anyway, sorry to have caused the other woman even momentary distress. Absently, she scratched Gozer behind one of his uniquely Scottish Fold ears. After a moment, the cat responded with a rumbling purr. The soothing sound made her realize that she’d been missing Lumpkin and Glenora, even though she’d been away from them only for a single day.
“I’m guessing you have a cat of your own,” Rowena said.
Liss nodded. “Two of them. Lumpkin is a Maine Coon. And Glenora—well, she’d fit right in with the decor and theme of your shop. Her fur is solid black. Not even a trace of any other color.”
“Unusual names.” Rowena’s eyes twinkled.
Belatedly catching on, Liss laughed. “Gozer? From the first Ghostbusters movie?”
“That’s right. One of the demons. Seemed appropriate at the time. He was a holy terror as a kitten.”
Dan, who had been amusing himself by flipping through a book on the healing power of crystals, just shook his head.
The more they talked, the more Liss found herself liking Rowena Luckenbill. Officer Jennings had called her a “harmless eccentric,” and she supposed that was accurate as far as it went, especially given the rather bizarre stock Rowena carried. But the older woman had a solid, down-to-earth side, too. The term “crazy like a fox” came to mind. Liss had a sneaking suspicion that Rowena wore outfits that put one in mind of a gypsy fortune-teller for the same reason Liss’s aunt Margaret had always dressed in tartan skirts accessorized with clan crest jewelry when she worked at Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium.
“Perhaps you’d like to see our maze.” The impulsive invitation surprised all three of them.
“Ah, Liss, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Dan sent Rowena an apologetic look. “It’s not our property, after all.”
“I quite understand.” If Rowena was disappointed, she didn’t show it, but after a moment she murmured, “What a pity we can’t ask Simeon to give me permission to view it.”
“And while we’re at it, ask him why he planted a maze in the first place,” Liss agreed.
A wicked gleam came into Rowena’s bright blue eyes. “I don’t do séances, but there may be another way to get answers.”
Liss didn’t trust that smooth segue. “Really? How?”
“First you must ask how much.”
Liss’s eyebrows shot up. Crazy as a fox, all right. “Okay. How much?”
“Forty-five dollars, plus tax.” She had that figure right on the tip of her tongue.
Liss fought a grin. “A little steep, don’t you think?”
Rowena waved away the complaint with a careless gesture of one hand. “A paltry sum.”
“What does it buy?” Dan admired a good sales pitch as much as anyone. As president of the Moosetookalook Small Business Association, he’d heard quite a few.
With a dramatic flourish and a jangling of bracelets, Rowena Luckenbill reached beneath the sales counter and came out with a large sparkly crystal ball. “Ask Madame Rowena to gaze into the depths,” she intoned in a low, sepulchral voice, “and all will be revealed. Madame Rowena sees all and tells all.”
Chapter Five
“Are you sure you don’t want to buy some time with that crystal ball?” Dan teased his wife when they were back in the truck.
“I’d have more faith in a séance,” Liss said with a laugh. “Quite a character, isn’t she?”
“An interesting woman,” Dan agreed, “but I wonder if she really manages to make a living catering to such a limited clientele.”
“I expect she does, probably the same way I do, with online and mail order sales to take up the slack. So, what do you want to do next? Shall we explore New Boston or head back to the farm?”
The truck’s engine came to life with a roar. “What else do you think this burg has to offer? Theater? Museums? Fenway Park?” He pulled out of their parking spot and continued along Commercial Street until he had to stop for a red light.
Liss gave a snort of laughter and pointed to a sign at the intersection. “There you go. Fenway Park. One mile.”
Unlike the famous original in old Boston, this Fenway Park was a small picnic area with a Little League field and a playground. At the moment it was deserted.
“Well, that was exciting,” Dan said as he headed back toward the main road. “What next?”
“Let’s find a supermarket,” Liss suggested. “I feel like cooking something substantial for supper, and I need a main course.” She also wanted to pick up a few odds and ends Andy hadn’t thought to supply.
Dan drove to the same small grocery store they’d stopped at the previous day. Once inside, they separated. Liss sought the meat department. Dan headed for the beer aisle.
“Meats” consisted of one large refrigerated case at the back of the store. A woman, small and stooped with age, stood blocking the whole of it, her back to Liss. She appeared to be weighing the relative merits of two packages of pork chops. Liss slowed her steps, intending to wait until the other woman made her decision and moved on. She changed her mind when she was close enough to recognize the meat customer as the sour-faced clerk from the town office.
Unable to resist, Liss called out to her, using her cheeriest voice. “Hello. How nice to see you again. Bea, isn’t it?”
This friendly sally did not go over well. Bea barely topped the five-foot mark, but if she felt at a disadvantage because of her height or small stature, she didn’t let on. When she turned to square off against the much younger, much taller Liss, her stance was rigid and a forbidding scowl darkened her features.
“That’s Mrs. Purvey to you, missy.”
“I . . . I beg your pardon,” Liss stammered. “We met yesterday. My husband and I—”
“I know who you are. And I know what you’re up to, too.” Beatrice Purvey got right in Liss’s face, even though she had to go up on tiptoe to do it. “You’ve got a lot of nerve! This is a nice little town. You’ve got no right to go stirring things up again!”
“I didn’t—”
“Next thing you know, you’ll be saying that New Boston has a drug problem or some other terrible big city trouble. I’ll have you know that this town has very little crime. Our chief of police knows how to deal with the wrong sort of people.”
“He seems very . . . efficient,” Liss blurted.
Mrs. Purvey’s hands clenched so tightly on the packages of meat that Liss feared for the shrink-wrap and Styrofoam.
“I assure you, my husband and I mean no insult to your hometown.”
Truthfully, Liss couldn’t think what she or Dan might have said or done to give that impression, or to whom, but an apology seemed the safest way to go. They were already attracting the attention of other shoppers. Feeling the heat creep into her face, Liss considered making a run for cover.
Woman up, she told herself. Besides, her insatiable curiosity demanded that she find out exactly how she’d managed to earn Mrs. Purvey’s wrath.
Lowering her voice, she adopted a soothing tone. “I have nothing against New Boston, Mrs. Purvey. Dan and I came here to do a favor for the woman who inherited
Mr. Snowe’s estate. Ms. Snowe hopes to reopen the Christmas tree business.” She told the little white lie without a qualm, reasoning that she fully intended to convince Gina to make it true. “That’s good, right? It will mean more jobs for local workers and more tax revenue for the town.”
Mrs. Purvey resisted the effort at conciliation. If anything, she became more implacable. “You came here to snoop. You think I don’t know who you are, but I do. I read the newspapers every day and have since I was a girl. I remember what the reports said about those goings-on down to Moosetookalook a few years back.”
For a moment, Liss could think of nothing to say. The woman must have a memory like an elephant. Her part in those cases had been played down in the press. Even when she’d been able to assist the police in solving a crime, her name had rarely appeared in print in connection with the capture of a criminal. Besides, in that context, how could Mrs. Purvey possibly think it was a bad thing for Liss to have been involved? Didn’t everyone want murderers brought to justice?
“Mrs. Purvey, I . . . oh!” Belatedly, the penny dropped. “Are you related to the chief of police?”
“I’m his mother.” Her bosom swelled with pride.
Now the elderly woman’s accusations made a convoluted sort of sense. There had been time since Liss and Dan visited the PD that morning for Bea Purvey to hear of it and put the worst possible interpretation on that turn of events. She assumed that they’d come to town to dig up dirt on local law enforcement.
Liss could follow Bea’s train of thought easily enough, now that she knew the older woman had been reading newspaper accounts as far back as the first time Liss became involved in the investigation of a murder. She’d had no choice in the matter on that occasion. The state police officer in charge of the case had been an absolute jackass, and he’d been convinced that she was the killer.
There had been a time or two since when Liss had found evidence that honest, capable officers had missed. She’d never set out to make the police look incompetent, but it was entirely possible that Beatrice Purvey had gleaned that impression from the accounts she’d read in the local press.
One look at Bea’s set features warned Liss that it would be an uphill battle to change her mind. Clearly she’d convinced herself that Liss was a threat to her son. Overprotective parents weren’t known for their ability to listen to reason.
She considered and rejected a variety of responses, everything from asking why Mrs. Purvey thought her son might have something to hide to telling her to contact the chief of police of Moosetookalook, Liss’s best pal, Sherri Campbell, for a character reference.
“Well, missy? Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open.” She tossed one of the packages of pork chops back into the meat case. “If you have something to say, then say it.” The other package landed in her shopping cart with a plop.
“I can only give you my word, Mrs. Purvey, that I did not come to New Boston to cause trouble.” Although Beatrice Purvey already knew the basic facts from overhearing what Liss and Dan had told the town manager, Liss repeated them, anyway. She ended by emphasizing the fact that Gina Snowe was a lawyer with a practice in Chicago. “She’d be here in person to evaluate her property if she didn’t have an unbreakable commitment there. An important criminal case, as I understand it.”
Mrs. Purvey did not look impressed. “Why did she send you? Why not a relative?”
“We’re old friends. Gina Snowe is originally from Fallstown. My husband and I both went to high school with her.”
Mrs. Purvey huffed out a breath and looked annoyed. “He was a strange man.”
“Simeon Snowe?”
“Who else have we been talking about? He kept himself to himself, even more so than most folks do.”
Liss breathed a little easier as the older woman’s overt hostility faded into simple querulousness, but she was a trifle surprised at this assessment of Gina’s uncle’s character. It didn’t mesh with the impression of Snowe she’d formed after talking to the man in the coffee shop and Officer Jennings and Rowena Luckenbill and Andy Dutton. Mrs. Purvey made Snowe sound overtly antisocial.
“He was a hard worker,” Liss ventured. “He’d have to be to plant so many trees year after year.”
“Christmas trees! I ask you, where’s the sense in cutting down a live tree and putting up with all those messy needles when you can buy an artificial one that will last for decades?”
Liss wasn’t about to get involved in that debate. Mrs. Purvey already had enough reasons to dislike her. But it did occur to her that someone who worked in a town office would be in an ideal situation to hear about everything that went on within the municipality.
“Do you happen to know who Mr. Snowe hired to help him with the planting? His niece will be looking for local labor when it’s time to put in the next crop.”
“Only that Dutton girl.” Mrs. Purvey made an odd little sound in her throat. “I wouldn’t advise taking her on. Even her own mother despairs of her.”
And yet another conflicting opinion. Liss wondered if there was anyone, aside from her own son, of whom Mrs. Purvey did approve.
“Andy seemed nice enough when we met her earlier today.”
“Running around on a motorcycle? I ask you, what good can come of that sort of behavior?”
Liss thought about asking what bad it could cause, but Mrs. Purvey was still talking.
“I’m not supposed to know about it, of course, but Andrea Dutton had her share of run-ins with the law when she was younger.”
What a nasty piece of work this woman is turning out to be, Liss thought. A quick glance from side to side relieved one concern. Although other shoppers browsed the shelves at a distance, no one was close enough to hear the chief of police’s mother blacken Andy’s name.
“That girl would have ended up in jail for sure if she hadn’t been a minor at the time. But you didn’t hear it from me.” She mimed zipping her lips.
Liss had liked Mrs. Purvey better when she was defending her son. That the elderly woman would say such things to a stranger, especially one she clearly distrusted, cast doubt on her mental state and made Liss doubly anxious to get away from her.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Purvey,” she said in the too-sweet voice she usually reserved for obnoxious salesmen. “I didn’t listen to a word you said. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, I never even met you. You have a nice evening, now.”
Eyes narrowed, as if she suspected that she’d been insulted but couldn’t quite figure out how, the unpleasant old woman gave a curt nod of farewell, spun her shopping cart around, and wheeled it briskly away.
Liss drew in a deep, cleansing breath. She could just imagine what Mrs. Purvey would have to say to her cronies about that awful Liss Ruskin.
Dan reappeared a few minutes later. Liss selected a thick steak for their supper. Dan dropped a six-pack of Geary’s Pale Ale into the cart, then took a close look at her face. “What’s wrong?”
Speaking in a soft voice, even though they had the aisle to themselves, she filled him in on her exchange with Beatrice Purvey.
“I guess she’d know if Andy was ever in trouble with the law,” Dan said, “but why do you suppose she made such a point of telling you about it?”
“It certainly wasn’t to do me a favor by putting us on our guard. She’s not the sort of woman who does anything nice for anyone.” She frowned. “But since she was so determined to dis Andy, I wonder why she didn’t provide specifics?” Had the girl been caught shoplifting? Joyriding? Or had it been something more serious? In spite of the fact that her first impulse was to protest the younger woman’s innocence, Liss couldn’t help but wonder what the real story was.
As he so often did, Dan seemed to read her thoughts. “If it’s a juvenile record, what does it matter? Let’s face it. If Andy had wanted to rob the Snowe house or commit any other crime on Snowe’s property, she’s had seven years to accomplish it.”
“You don’t suppose she could have killed
the guy in the netter? And then maybe Snowe, too, to cover up the first crime?”
Dan laughed. “I doubt it. She’d have been what? No more than fourteen or fifteen years old at the time.”
Once again, Liss checked to make sure no one was showing any interest in the conversation of two people standing in front of the day’s offerings of meat. A woman with a child in the basket of her shopping cart turned the corner and headed their way. Liss ducked into the cereal aisle. It was empty of other shoppers, but she continued to speak only loud enough for Dan to hear.
“Even at that age, I imagine Andy was a sturdy girl.”
“And I’m sure she was questioned at the time.”
“She said her mother intervened. Remember? Because she was a minor.”
“A fifteen-year-old who kills someone is usually tried as an adult. I’m no expert, but if she already had a record of violent behavior, they’d have talked to her, protective mama or not.”
Liss knew he was right, but Bea Purvey’s insinuations had raised doubts. One continued to niggle at her. “Didn’t it strike you as odd that Andy kept on tending Snowe’s crop? Do you think she planned to steal some of Gina’s trees and sell them herself?”
“The thought crossed my mind,” Dan admitted, “but she didn’t do all that much tending. Maybe she was hoping Snowe would come back.”
After a detour to pick up a carton of skim milk, they headed for the checkout aisle. The same bored teenager who’d waited on them the previous day was working the cash register. She couldn’t be more than a few years Andy’s junior. Liss was tempted to ask her if she knew the older girl. If this were Moosetookalook, the clerk would be a gold mine of information.
Since they weren’t in Moosetookalook anymore, Liss kept her question to herself.
In the time they’d been inside the grocery store, the sun had set. The parking lot was shrouded in murky half-light, the prelude to true darkness. The visibility was even worse where Dan had parked—off to one side and well away from the nearest streetlight.
Liss tugged on the passenger side door handle, but Dan hadn’t yet pressed the unlock button on his key chain. She stretched her neck and rotated her shoulders while he finished securing their grocery bags in the back of the pickup. It had been a long day.
Ho-Ho-Homicide (A Liss MacCrimmon Mystery Book 8) Page 8