Kilt Dead

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

“Someone broke into the apartment the other night. Nothing was taken, but we’re pretty sure it was the same person who killed Mrs. Norris.”

  “Pretty sure? Not positive?”

  “Unless the state police have Aunt Margaret’s spare key, that’s the logical conclusion. If it was someone else, then that means there’s another key floating around somewhere. Did you have one?”

  “No. I always use the one over the doorsill if I need to get in and Mom isn’t home.”

  “I’ll have a copy of the new key made for you. In this day and age it’s too dangerous to leave a spare over the door.” She pulled an old photograph album out of the hope chest and started to go through it, ignoring Ned as he left her to wander through the other upstairs rooms.

  He was back a short time later. “Nice old place. I haven’t been in here for years and I don’t think I was ever allowed upstairs.”

  “Mmmm.” Engrossed in her discoveries about Mrs. Norris’s past, Liss only half-listened.

  “Liss? You still trying to find the killer on your own?”

  Carefully, she set aside the papers she’d been reading and looked up at Ned from her perch on the floor beside the hope chest. “I’m still a suspect, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “So what are you doing about it?”

  “Worried about me, cuz?”

  “Not really. I don’t figure you’re much of a detective.” He made a rude noise. “Not that the real ones are doing such a bang-up job.”

  Irrationally irritated—not an unusual occurance around her cousin—Liss glowered at him and spoke with a bravado she was far from feeling. “I’ll figure things out eventually, Ned. My own survival depends on it.” She shrugged with assumed nonchalance. “It’s just a matter of asking the right question of the right person. Then all the pieces will fall into place.”

  “What question?”

  She had no idea, but she wasn’t about to tell Ned that. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  “Yeah, I would, actually.” He left the doorway and moved toward her, taking up a surprising amount of space in the small room. “I—”

  “Liss? Where are you?” Dan’s voice boomed through the house, making Ned jump.

  “We’re up here!” A moment later she heard him on the stairs.

  “I should go.” Ned passed Dan in the hallway. They didn’t speak.

  “What was he doing here?” Dan demanded the moment he entered the room.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “Sorry.” He leaned down and caught her by the elbows, pulling her to her feet and straight into his arms. “Missed you.”

  A short, satisfying interlude later, Liss went back to sorting through the contents of the hope chest while Dan told her, in more detail than she really wanted to hear, about the trials and tribulations of birthing a premature baby.

  “More excitement than I’ve had here,” she told him. “Sadly, that applies to the Emporium, too. I can count the number of customers on one hand and only two of them bought anything.”

  “Have you talked to Sherri since the break-in?”

  “Only very short conversations. Her son has an ear infection. I filled her in on the details, such as they are.” She hesitated. “We talked a little more about the contents of that blue binder, trying to figure out why Mrs. Norris made those notes. Why did you take it home with you?”

  “I just wanted to read the whole thing. Sorry I haven’t gotten it back to you, but I didn’t figure there was any rush. There’s nothing in it.”

  Liss paused in the act of removing a photograph from a frame, struck by the fact that Dan had turned away from her . . . as if he wanted to make sure he avoided meeting her eyes.

  “I ran into Pete in Fallstown.”

  And now he was changing the subject.

  “He wasn’t able to find out anything more from the cops but he did tell me he’s taking Sherri to our reunion. I thought we’d make it a foursome, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Misery loves company?”

  “Something like that.” At ease again, he grinned at her. “I wasn’t planning to go, but I guess I can stand to play ‘do you remember’ if you’re there with me.”

  Liss returned the last of the items she’d been looking through to the hope chest and closed the lid. She stared at her hands where they rested on the highly polished wood. “Did you happen to see Karen Cloutier while you were in Fallstown?”

  “Oh, hell! I didn’t know she was coming.” There was too much dismay in his voice to be anything but sincere. “Can I change my mind about reunion?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Sherri wore her one professional-looking suit and high heels to Mrs. Norris’s memorial service. She was glad the shoes pinched. That was the only thing keeping her awake. If she didn’t catch some sleep sometime between now and this evening she’d be doing a good imitation of a zombie for her former classmates.

  Hiding a yawn behind her hand, she scoped out the other mourners. The funeral parlor’s largest room was filled to capacity and the overflow had spilled out into the vestibule. That was where Craig LaVerdiere had ended up, nose in the air, eyes suspicious. Sherri was a little surprised to see him. If he was convinced Liss was the killer, why would he need to attend? Maybe he had doubts after all. She hoped so.

  Liss and Dan were off in a corner, engaged in intense conversation. Sherri wasn’t the only one watching them and speculating. They practically sparked when they were together.

  So much for warning Liss not to get involved. Not that Sherri had anything personal against Dan Ruskin. He was a nice enough guy, but he wasn’t telling Liss everything.

  Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, she thought with a wry grimace. She was keeping a few things from Liss herself. And not all men were untrustworthy. Pete seemed to be—. She cut off that line of thought. Why on earth had she let him talk her into allowing him to escort her to the reunion? It wasn’t even his class.

  Maybe she’d figure that out tonight. After she got some sleep.

  “Sherri, isn’t it?” a soft voice asked. “Is this seat taken?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Biggs. Please sit down.” She’d been saving it for Pete, she realized, but he hadn’t turned up yet. His loss.

  Hermione Biggs was close to Mrs. Norris’s age. Sherri imagined they’d known each other all their lives. She was also Barbara Zathros’s landlady.

  Sherri took another look around. She recognized most of the Moosetookalook residents. Even though it had been a while since she’d actually lived in this little town, she’d worked at the Emporium since her return. She’d met everyone in the neighborhood at least once. Absentees were easy to spot. There was no sign of Lenny Peet or Ned Boyd. Jason Graye hadn’t shown up and neither had his lady friend.

  At precisely ten o’clock, Liss mounted the podium to begin her tribute to their late neighbor. She had found a good photograph of Mrs. Norris and had it mounted on a stand beside her.

  “I don’t think most of us knew Amanda Norris as well as we thought we did,” Liss said with a glance at the likeness. She shuffled the note cards in front of her, but she didn’t need to look at them. “She was born in 1925 and married young. Her husband was killed fighting in World War II. Afterward, she moved into the house on Pine Street, which at that time belonged to her mother-in-law, and commuted to classes at what is now the Fallstown branch of the University of Maine. Back then it was a teacher’s college, one of the best around, and when she graduated she took a job right here in Moosetookalook. After her mother-in-law died, she inherited the house and continued to live there until her own death. She kept teaching until she was seventy.”

  After a few more words, centering on Mrs. Norris’s love of reading, Liss invited other neighbors to take the podium. Hermione Biggs was the first to comply.

  “Amanda discovered the Internet about five years ago. She joined all kinds of groups to talk about the things that interested her. Her favorite was the fanfic group, filled with other peop
le who loved to read mysteries. And then there were the online auctions. She had a ball buying and selling online. Her mother-in-law left behind a collection of Hummels. Amanda always hated them. She preferred Royal Doulton figurines. She found good homes for the Hummels and bought several of what she called her ‘little ladies’ with the proceeds.”

  Another of Mrs. Norris’s former students reminisced about the way she’d taught spelling. She’d made up stories incorporating each week’s list of words. Sherri remembered being featured in one of those tales herself. It had been a science-fiction saga, she recalled. When she misspelled a word, Mrs. Norris had banished her to a planet where the inhabitants had nothing but spinach to eat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Student Center at the Fallstown branch of the University of Maine had a large function room available for gatherings such as class reunions. School banners had been hung on the walls and bunches of balloons in team colors formed centerpieces at the tables, but otherwise the decor was not particularly festive. Neither was Dan Ruskin’s mood.

  Liss eyed her escort warily, wondering what he wasn’t telling her. His sister was indeed on the road to recovery. Liss had talked to Mary on the phone herself. That left local gossip to worry about . . . and Karen Cloutier.

  “Liss! Over here!” Gina Snowe’s voice carried easily across the room as she gestured for them to join her at the table where she was holding court. There was no other word for it, Liss thought with a smile as they made their way over. No fewer than five of their male classmates were gathered around the ex–beauty queen in the bright red dress, vying for her attention.

  Unfortunately, only two chairs remained empty. “Sorry, Gina. There are four of us.” Liss indicated Sherri and Pete.

  For a moment, Gina looked startled. “Hello, Sherri.”

  “Gina.” Sherri gave the other woman such a cool nod that Liss found herself scrambling to remember what their relationship had been like ten years earlier. She couldn’t think of anything to explain the sudden chill in the air. Then again, as a high school student, she’d been pretty oblivious to everything outside her own interests.

  They found a table with four places free toward the back of the room, claimed the chairs with the programs handed out at the door and their evening bags, and put on their name tags, ready to mingle. Dan looked as if he was on his way to an execution and Sherri’s attitude wasn’t much better.

  “Drinks for everyone?” Pete suggested.

  Forty minutes later, Liss was bracing herself for the next “do you remember when?” encounter when she recognized Karen Cloutier’s voice behind her and a little to the left. “I heard she not only sleeps around, she does it for money.”

  The malicious words fell into a momentary lull in other conversations.

  Liss closed her eyes and prayed for fortitude. It isn’t worth confronting her over, she lectured herself. Karen had clearly been imbibing heavily and she’d never been particularly discreet. Liss had already heard that Karen had been spreading the word that Liss was a suspect in Mrs. Norris’s murder. Let her say whatever she wants about me. Sticks and stones and all that.

  But the voice that answered Karen belonged to Gina. “Maybe years ago, but surely not now.”

  Liss choked back an outraged cry of protest at this betrayal by her “best friend.” Liss hadn’t even had a serious boyfriend in high school and Gina knew it.

  “What, you think she got law-abiding just because she put on a uniform?”

  Not me. Sherri.

  Liss was ashamed of the relief she felt. Had Sherri overheard? The noise of dozens of people all chattering at the same time should have covered the exchange between Karen and Gina. But Dan had heard. His grip on Liss’s arm tightened. He tried to tug her out of earshot, but it was too late.

  Liss heard Gina chuckle. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t put it past her. I ran into her once before she came back to Maine to live, and let me tell you, she wasn’t exactly law-abiding then.”

  “Ooooh—details!”

  Karen’s delighted trill of laughter grated on Liss’s nerves. Without taking the time to consider consequences, she pushed her way through the classmates separating her from the two gossiping women and confronted them. Outrage made her voice louder than she intended. “This isn’t high school anymore, ladies. And trashing someone’s reputation isn’t a joke.”

  Karen gave her a cat-after-cream smile. “Trashy is as trashy does. My mother saw her. Last summer. Flashy car. Flashy man. Cheap motel room.”

  Suddenly aware they had an avidly listening audience, Liss felt herself flush with anger and embarrassment. She looked around for an escape route only to have her gaze collide with Sherri’s.

  Time seemed to stop. It was all there to read in the horrified expression in Sherri’s eyes. She knew Karen and Gina had been talking about her. Worse, at least some of what they’d said was true.

  Liss swung back to Karen, fists clenched at her sides. “Drunk or sober, you haven’t changed a bit in ten years. You’re still a petty, small-minded troublemaker.”

  It occurred to Liss that several of her own long-forgotten high school humiliations could probably be laid at Karen’s door. Naïve as she’d been then, she’d never made the connection.

  She leaned in close, so that only Karen could hear. “Dan always liked me best.”

  It was a childish remark but damn, it felt good to have something with which to pay Karen back. Then her old nemesis ruined the moment by bursting into tears.

  “Oh, hell. I didn’t mean to make her cry.”

  “Why not?” Sherri asked as she and Pete came up beside Liss and Dan. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves a few minutes of misery more. Don’t worry, it won’t last. She’ll be back to normal by the end of the evening.”

  “And inventing new lies.” Dan had been silent till then. “I don’t know about you three, but I’ve had enough of Old Home Week. How about we skip the banquet and go out for pizza?”

  “No way,” Sherri objected. “Who knows what stories she’ll invent if she thinks her lies drove us away.”

  The brave front crumbled as soon as Dan and Pete left them in a secluded corner to fetch refills of their drinks. Sherri looked as if she, too, was about to turn on the waterworks.

  “I just made things worse,” Liss lamented. “I didn’t mean to draw attention to Karen’s comments.”

  Sherri blinked back the incipient tears and squared her shoulders. “Not your fault. And, sadly, neither Gina nor Karen was lying. Gina and I crossed paths when I was at a pretty low point in my life. And what Karen’s mother saw? I’m afraid that was true, too. I guess I should be grateful she didn’t know who I was with that night.” Color flamed into Sherri’s face and she shifted her gaze to a spot on the floor. “It was LaVerdiere, Liss. I was fool enough to sleep with Craig LaVerdiere.”

  Struggling to hide her shock, Liss put her hand on Sherri’s forearm and squeezed. “He . . . ah . . . well, he is kind of good-looking. Till he opens his mouth.”

  Sherri managed a chuckle. “It was back when he first got to the area. I was lonely. He was sexy. We met at the annual law enforcement picnic and there was chemistry. I figured, what the heck? This could work out. We have the job in common. But afterward he made it clear he hadn’t been interested in anything more than a one-night stand. Made me feel cheap. Worse, made me feel like an idiot.”

  “I’ve had a stupid moment or two myself.”

  “I’ve had more than one.”

  “And I’ll bet you Karen has had dozens.”

  “There is that.” Sherri caught sight of Pete and Dan returning and spoke quickly. “Time to change the subject. Do you have Mrs. Norris’s looseleaf?”

  “Not yet. Dan’s giving it back to me in the morning.”

  “Can I come over around noon tomorrow and take a look at it? I heard something earlier tonight that sounded an awful lot like one of the entries.”

  Liss hastily agreed. She wondered why Sherri didn’t
want Dan and Pete to overhear her request, but she didn’t ask questions. She figured she’d find out soon enough. If they survived the rest of the evening.

  Liss slept in on Sunday and woke up to find a note from Dan pushed under the stockroom door. She was not expecting anything romantic. He hadn’t even hinted that he’d like to sleep anywhere but in his own house the previous night. He’d checked the apartment for intruders before having her let him out the front door of the Emporium, but he’d contented himself with an almost chaste kiss. Liss didn’t know what to make of the way he was pulling back from her.

  The note simply said that he’d gone out to The Spruces and that she’d find the looseleaf at his place if she wanted it before he returned. She’d asked about it again during the drive home from reunion.

  Liss duly retrieved it—she’d not yet returned the spare key Dan had given her when she was staying with him—after she’d stopped at Mrs. Norris’s house to refill Lumpkin’s food and water dishes.

  She was making a hearty brunch when Sherri arrived. She had sausages keeping warm, waffle batter ready to go, and a second pot of coffee perking.

  “What, no scones?”

  “They’re harder to make than I expected. My first try would have made a rock seem light and flaky in comparison.”

  “Waffles will do,” Sherri decided. “Oh, good. You got the looseleaf.” It didn’t take her long to find the section she’d read when they’d divided up the pages. She skimmed through it again while Liss poured coffee. “Ah, here it is! She’s using fictional character names again, I assume. Joe Morelli?”

  Liss couldn’t help grinning as she poured batter into the waffle iron. “Sexy cop in Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels.”

  “Well, sexy or not, here he’s defrauding people out of their homes so he can tear them down and build high-rise condos.”

  A reference to construction work? Liss’s concentration slipped and she brushed too close to the hot waffle iron with her hand. Jerking away from the heat, she stared at Sherri. “What did you hear last night that made you remember that entry?”