Now that didn’t sound like a statement you’d want a cop to hear.
Aster, bless her, had her trusty bottle of water-diluted lavender oil in hand. “Doralee, now stop and breathe. You, too, Zach. This is my special essential oil and water. I’m spritzing it over your heads, and it will calm you. Then we can talk.”
Aster sprayed them, then the room at large. Amber and T.C. sneezed, and retreated to the beds Fred and Dab had set out for them. They exchanged a look that I could only interpret as, “Humans are weird.”
“There now. We know a crackerjack attorney, Dinah Souse, but tell us why you think you need her.”
“I told you. Detective Shoar believes I killed Kim.”
“Did he say why?” I asked. “I mean, did he give you a motive?”
“First he mentioned me being jealous of her, but then”—she shot me a scorching stare—“he started pelting me with questions about the opal. I guess you told him about it?”
“I mentioned it last night when he asked if I knew why Kim would be in your room. It was the only reason I could imagine.”
Doralee’s glare melted. “You’re right, of course. The problem is I didn’t think about the stupid stone last night when Detective Shoar questioned me. For heaven’s sake, it’s in my safe-deposit box. It wasn’t on my mind. Now the detective thinks I was holding back information if not outright lying.”
“Shoar is paid to be suspicious,” I said soothingly. “I promise you he’s a fair, thorough investigator.”
“I hope so because he also asked me about my presentations here, and if I’d had any problems.”
Maise frowned. “What sort of problems?”
“If I’d lost anything or had something stolen. I told him that my awl went missing on Friday afternoon, and that all of you knew about it. He showed me about a dozen photos of various tools and asked me to identify my awl.”
My heart sank even as the senior ladies murmured a chorus of “Oh dear.”
“The thing was, I could point out the picture of the kind of awl I had, but I couldn’t say that particular one was mine. I told him my awl was in a new set of gourd-crafting tools, and that I hadn’t put my initials or any markings on them yet.” She vise-gripped my hand. “You know I’m telling the truth, Nixy. Will you talk to the detective?”
Before I could answer, Sherry pinned me with her blue-eyed teacher gaze. “Do you think the awl was the murder weapon, Nixy?”
“I do believe it must be,” Eleanor said. “Otherwise, why would he query Doralee about it so closely?”
“Ladies, ladies, hold it. You know Detective Shoar doesn’t show his hand. All I get out of him is that the evidence goes to the state crime lab. However,” I added, turning to Doralee, “I will confirm with him that your awl disappeared just as you told him.” I paused. “Did Shoar say anything more about the room key?”
“Only that Kim likely didn’t have a copy made—at least not in the two places in town with a key-cutting machine.”
“So he believes Kim used your key.”
“Or he thinks I let Kim in and then killed her.”
“When does he think you managed that? You were at Sherry’s.”
She cut her gaze to Zach then looked back at me. “Shoar says he has a witness who saw me on the square, but I didn’t come back to town until I came with you.”
Huh. Why had she evaded my eyes when I mentioned her being at the party? Why the glance at Zach that seemed a touch guilty? She was lying about something, and that bugged me.
Still, I again promised to talk with Shoar.
“And I’ll get you that attorney’s number,” Maise said. “It’s after one, so Ms. Souse should be in the office if she isn’t in court.”
“Thank you,” Zach said quietly. “Doralee, you didn’t tell them about the missing item.”
“It’s a tiny detail compared to everything else,” she began. “But the detective also had me look at the inventory of my clothes, jewelry, and toiletries to see if my belongings were all there. Everything was there but my smock.”
“The one you wore during your class?” I asked.
“And the program with Sherry. I took it and some paint to our room so I could put some finishing touches on your gift—a gourd pencil holder for your office. I’d left it on the sweet little vintage desk in the guest room.”
I didn’t have an office except for the box of files I’d amassed and kept in the apartment, but I appreciated the thought.
“Where did you last see your smock?” my aunt asked.
“On the chair back where I’d tossed it. Why someone would take that one item, I can’t imagine.”
I could. The killer had likely wiped off his bloody hands with the smock, but then I’d watched more crime shows than were probably good for me. Then I had another thought.
“What about all your other crafting tools? Were they on the inventory?”
“No, but they wouldn’t be. We left them locked in the car all weekend along with my other supplies. That’s why I think the detective found my missing awl at the crime scene. Why else would the subject come up?”
“Good point.” Even though all of us except perhaps Fred could corroborate her account of the vanished awl, that the presumed murder weapon belonged to Doralee was damning.
“Will you be able to get your personal things back?” Sherry asked.
“The police are holding them for now,” Zach said. “However, we found a place to stay until the detective allows us to go home. The Pines Motor Court.”
“It’s not as spacious as the Inn on the Square,” Doralee put in, “but it’s a cute little retro sort of place, and it’ll do fine for a few days. We can’t impose on you all anymore,” she said, nodding at the Six.
Zach nodded, too. “I thought I’d take Doralee to buy a few necessities, then go back there to rest.”
“An excellent idea,” Aster said. “I’ll send along some lavender to help you relax.”
“And we’ll have you out for dinner tonight,” Maise offered. “That is, if you feel like being in company.”
Doralee exchanged a small smile with Zach. “That’s very sweet, but we got permission from the detective to go to Magnolia for dinner.”
“The Backyard Bar-B-Q?” Eleanor asked. I couldn’t imagine pristine and proper Eleanor chowing down on ribs but, I realized, there was so much I still didn’t know about each of the Six.
“The same, but we appreciate your invitation.” She caught Aster’s hand, and her gaze touched each of us. “Truly, thank you. All of you. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”
“We’ll get this sorted out,” Aster assured her.
“We certainly will,” Aunt Sherry vowed with a gleam in her eye that told me this was not the end of this conversation. I wondered absently if it would be rude to invite myself along to the barbeque joint. I’d heard the pie alone was worth the trip, and it would delay having to deal with whatever amateur sleuthing my dear aunt was certain to propose.
* * *
There are times that being right sucks, and this was shaping up to be one of those times.
Sherry and Aster, Maise, and Eleanor had been home, eaten, and brought lunch back for the rest of us. They dropped off snacks for Jasmine, too, then joined me, Dab, and Fred at the worktable, where we’d talked with Doralee and Zach.
But the ladies had brought back more than sandwiches and sweet tea. As I feared, they’d cooked up the cockeyed idea that we should investigate Kim Thomason’s death. I was having none of it, even though I was likely partly to blame for their wheedling ways. When I arrived a few months back, they thought snooping was rude and now I was going to have to rein them in.
“No, and no again, Aunt Sherry. Absolutely not.”
“But we must investigate. You know the Stanton family dictum: When we see something that needs doing
, we do it.”
“But that’s the point. Investigating a murder is not something we can do.”
“Of course we can. Now let’s start with a description of the crime scene. Doralee wouldn’t tell us a single detail. Did you take photos with your cell phone?”
“No cell pictures, and I am not describing the crime scene,” I said, but the image of Kim on her side, arm outstretched, her ring looking so odd on her limp finger, made me shudder. I shook off the mental picture. “Let the police investigate, Sherry. We have to stay out of Eric’s way.”
“Poo. We know Doralee is innocent. We’ll solve this case just like we solved the last murder.”
I choked on my tea and carefully set the glass on Fred’s worktable. “Aunt Sherry, we did not solve that murder. We blundered into the killer, and you were put in mortal danger.”
“We came out of it fine and dandy.”
“You were injured, and the whole episode took years off my life.”
“It also got you to move here,” Fred put in.
“Yes it did. So?”
“Just sayin’. It weren’t all bad.”
“And we’ll help, just like we did before,” Aster said.
“Right. We’ll mobilize to ask questions around town,” Maise declared. “See who could have had it in for Kim.”
“I do believe we ought to discover if anyone saw Kim and Ernie bickering,” Eleanor said. “He’s my top suspect.”
“Of course,” Dab offered thoughtfully, “it could be someone else entirely. By all accounts, Ms. Thomason was not the most pleasant of women. She could have had a number of enemies.”
“Enemies who followed Kim to Lilyvale?” I challenged. “An enemy Kim would let into the inn? An enemy who’d wait while Kim searched the room, and then whack her?”
Admittedly, the snooty sister-in-law Doralee had mentioned, Margot, sprang to mind as I ranted, but would a society maven like that stab Kim? Risk ruining her manicure? Actually, she might with a strong enough motive.
“Here now, Nixy. You got no call to be sarcastic,” Fred scolded. “No call whatsomever.”
I refocused and blew out a breath. “You’re right, Fred. Dab, I’m sorry for snapping. But truly, I think sticking our noses in this is a really bad idea. If you’ll recall, the only reason we snooped around in April was because Aunt Sherry was the prime suspect, and we were on the list right after her.”
“What’s your point?” Maise demanded.
“The last time was personal. This time it isn’t.”
“I beg to disagree,” Aster huffed.
“As do I,” Sherry snipped. “Doralee is a friend. She wouldn’t have been here had we not invited her to teach the gourd-painting class and stay for the demonstration. I feel somewhat responsible for the fix she’s in here.”
“Exactly,” Aster said. “And you of all people know we don’t abandon our friends. Besides, you told Shoar about that opal. Whether you realize it or not, you’re already on the case.”
I dropped my head in my hands with a groan. “The superstitions are true. Opals are bad luck.”
Fred chuckled. “Might as well give in, missy. If you don’t agree, we’ll just do it on our own.”
“And perhaps ask some of our other friends for help,” Eleanor added.
“Like Big George at the hardware store, and Bog Turner at the barbershop, and Duke Richards at the Dairy Queen,” Dab said with mock solemnity.
I gave Dab a wary look. I knew they were manipulating me six ways from Sunday, but invite Duke Richards and his shotgun into the middle of this situation? Not on my watch.
The thought of any of the Silver Six being in harm’s way made me queasy, but I had to pick my battles. If I went along with them investigating the murder, I’d get their reports and more or less be able ride herd on their snooping. That in turn would hopefully keep them out of too much trouble, especially with Detective Shoar.
“Okay, tell you what. I’ll let Shoar know about Doralee’s awl, and Eleanor’s missing whittling tool, too.”
“Excellent, child,” Sherry said. “We’ll check with downtown merchants and clerks. If Kim visited any shops, I’m sure she made an impression.”
“If she ate at the Lilies Café,” Maise added, “Lorna will know how she and Ernie behaved together.”
“We can search for her on the Internet, too,” Aster said. “Eleanor and I have been getting lessons in computer research from Jasmine.”
“Great, and I have a search task for you,” I said, Kim’s sister-in-law popping to mind again. “Look up Kim’s last set of in-laws. D.B. Thomason was the husband’s name. Look in Louisiana. The Shreveport area.”
“We’re on it,” Aster said, she and Eleanor beaming.
“Time to move out, Nixy,” Maise commanded. “Go see Eric and hurry back. Sandy Brown will be here in forty minutes for her Crafting for July Fourth demonstration, and that group of Scouts is coming back for it. We’ll need all hands on deck.”
* * *
The Lilyvale police station was only two and a half blocks from the emporium. I needed the exercise and decided Amber and T.C. could use the walk, too. And yes, I figured seeing the critters might soften the good detective.
Turned out that only service animals were allowed in the station, so I told the young black officer at the desk, Taylor Benton, that I had information vital to the murder case. Within minutes, Eric met me in the parking lot behind the building. Circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, and though he gave our furry friends attention, he didn’t look all that happy to see me.
“What’s up, Nixy?”
“Doralee told us you questioned her about an awl.”
His mouth tightened, and I held up a hand.
“I’m not going to ask you about it. I just want to tell you that Doralee had an awl on Friday afternoon for the demonstration she did with Aunt Sherry. Afterward, when she and Zach were packing up, the awl was missing.”
“Did you actually see the awl yourself?”
Uh-oh. I didn’t want to lie, but I only saw Doralee’s tools in passing. I compromised.
“I know the awl was in a kit with her other tools, and every tool was in its own molded slot thingy when Doralee and Sherry started the presentation.”
“But you didn’t see the awl yourself.”
“Not so I could say, ‘Aha! There’s Doralee’s awl.’”
He quirked a brow. “Aha?”
“Will you please listen to my part two of this?”
“Proceed.”
“On Saturday we had another incident. One of Eleanor’s tools went missing after her demo. Doralee wasn’t at the store that day. We searched the store for the awl on Friday, and for both tools on Saturday, but they didn’t turn up.”
“What about the feed on your security cameras?”
I flushed. “I didn’t remember we had them until Saturday, and unfortunately, there’s a big honking blind spot where we set up the demo tables.”
“Do you think a customer swiped the tools?”
“Since we’ve thoroughly searched, it’s a darn strong possibility.”
“Okay, I’ll keep this information in mind.”
“Great. Aren’t you going to ask what Eleanor’s tool looked like?”
“Why should I?”
“No reason if you’ve determined the awl was the murder weapon.”
He blinked. “I didn’t say that.”
“Nope, and I won’t repeat it, but something is bothering me.”
“I thought you weren’t investigating.”
“I’m not. Not exactly. I’m collecting information to keep the Silver Six happy. If I think something is important, I’ll come to you. But here’s the thing,” I rushed on. “I saw the blood pooling around Kim’s torso. If she was shot, and if the shooter didn’t use a silencer—
”
“Suppressor.”
“Okay, suppressor. Anyway, wouldn’t Georgine have heard the shots? Are her migraine meds so strong that they’d knock her into oblivion?”
I paused, but Shoar held his passive expression. Which didn’t deter me.
“If Kim was stabbed, wouldn’t the killer be covered with enough blood to leave a trail?”
Again, I got the stone face.
“Can you at least acknowledge my logic?”
His eyes softened. “I acknowledge your logic, but I’m not discussing the details of the case.”
“Fine. I have a couple more questions, and I don’t see why you can’t answer them.”
He huffed a breath. “Okay, shoot.”
“First, who is the witness that saw Doralee in the square?”
“I’m not saying.”
“Did you remember to ask Doralee about Kim’s former in-laws?”
“Gee, no, Nixy. I had more pertinent, pressing questions.”
“Sarcasm, Eric?” And a taste of my own medicine. No wonder Fred had called me on my snarkiness earlier. “You’re under the gun on this thing, aren’t you?”
“Having two deaths in two months isn’t making the chief or anyone else happy.”
“Understood, but about the in-laws—”
He raised his hand in the universal sign for stop, eyes narrowed. “Tell me why I should question Ms. Gordon about Ms. Thomason’s in-laws.”
“I told you last night after you talked with Doralee. She told me Kim’s sister-in-law, Margot, attempted to run Kim down with a golf cart.”
He blinked. “All right, give me the scoop.”
I relayed only what Doralee had reported to me, not embellishing the story, or making suppositions. Much.
“This is gossip, pure and simple. You know that. Ms. Gordon had the story from a friend, and the friend didn’t witness the incident. This is probably fifth-hand information at best.”
I tapped my foot. “Gossip or not, it could be true. You could check it out.”
He only said, “What’s your second question?”
Paint the Town Dead Page 11