Chapter 11
The next morning, all throughout Sunday Mass at Our Lady Star of the Sea Parish, Connie's thoughts about the future continued to swirl in her mind like a circular current. She couldn’t deny that she was ready for a change, and the idea of opening a jewelry shop had stimulated her imagination.
Connie loved making jewelry, and she never knew when or where she would be inspired. But wherever it came from – whether nature or music or a picture she saw in a magazine -- when she created jewelry, she became so completely absorbed in the process that all her stress faded away. She loved that her art could be worn rather than hung on a wall and that she could create something personalized for a friend or loved one. There was nothing like seeing the pleasure that the creations of her own hands brought to others.
But no matter how much she loved jewelry making, she still couldn’t walk away from the communities she served in developing countries, her first and strongest love. Connie thought about the possibility of opening the shop and volunteering on the side, but a new business wouldn't leave much time for other passions.
As often happened when Connie was contemplating something important, the priest's homily seemed to speak directly to her dilemma. Fr. Paul Fulton preached on the ongoing process of discerning God's calling in our lives and how our life’s work can grow and evolve.
"It is important to be aware the movements of our heart,” he suggested, “because God speaks to us through both joy and restlessness to reveal our deepest desires."
Connie definitely longed for something new, yet she still felt called to the work of serving the poorest of the poor, like her favorite saint, Teresa of Calcutta. A jewelry shop would certainly be something new, but it wouldn’t satisfy that deeper desire to serve impoverished communities.
Despite the patience she exercised when making jewelry, when it came to the bigger decisions in life, that particular virtue had never been Connie's strong point. She was a person of decisive action, and waiting for things to be clear was not her forte. But since none of the ideas she came up with felt right, she had no choice but to wait, or she would risk making an impulsive decision she would later regret. She prayed that it would become clear. Very soon.
After Mass, Connie caught sight of Elyse on the other side of the church with Josh, Emma, and Gertrude. Elyse waved and made a beeline in Connie's direction.
"So, I have a huge favor to ask,” she said, before Connie could say anything. “Yesterday I was supposed to invite you to my Aunt Gertrude's for Sunday dinner this afternoon. Please tell me you're free, or I will never live it down. I feel terrible that I forgot to mention it. She even bought calamari to fry -- Concetta's favorite -- in her honor. She thought you might like that, too."
Connie laughed. "That sounds great. No worries. I'll tell her you invited me yesterday," she said with a wink.
Elyse breathed a sigh of relief. "Perfect. There’s someone who would really like to see you.”
Connie’s heart skipped a beat. She hoped it might be Detective Zach Hughes. “Who’s that?” she asked.
“My daughter, Emma. She has been anxious to meet you since I told her about your time in Africa. She’ll be so excited that you’re coming. I have an open house at 11:00, so dinner is at 2:00."
She silently chastised herself for her disappointment. She absolutely should not be thinking that way about Zach. After all, she would be on her way back to Boston this time next week.
On the way home, Connie stopped at Publix to pick up what she would need to make brownies to bring to Gertrude's. She also knocked on Grace's door to see if she had returned home yet, but wasn't surprised when nobody answered, since she hadn't seen her at Mass. She was anxious to see Grace again. Palm Paradise wasn't the same without her.
When she got home, Connie slipped into a casual sundress and took Ginger for a long walk along the boulevard. Since she had gone to the earlier 9:00 AM Mass, there was plenty of time before dinner at Gertrude's, so Connie decided give Ginger an overdue bath. Despite the supplications of her round, pleading eyes looking back at Connie like two brown buttons, she had Ginger smelling like her sweet old self in no time.
"What on earth am I going do with you, girl?" she said, cupping the dog's wet face, which made it look a fraction its regular size. Hopefully Elyse or one of her other contacts would come through and find her a home.
After relaxing a while with a clean Ginger on her lap and a hot cup of tea, she made quick work of the brownies. Adding chocolate chips for good measure, she popped them into the oven to bake while she got ready.
A few minutes before 2:00, she placed the warm brownies onto a plate and took the elevator a few floors down, where she was warmly greeted by Gertrude. Her coiffed white hair was looking fresh from the hairdresser, and she wore a black apron that read, Never trust a skinny cook.
"I am so happy to have you here. When I heard you were staying in town for the week, I just had to have you over," she said, as Connie handed her the brownies.
"Are you kidding? I've been looking forward to this since Elyse told me about it yesterday," Connie said, casting a mischievous smile in Elyse's direction.
"Come, come," she said, leading her into the living room. "Make yourself at home."
Stuffed mushrooms, cheese and crackers, and a bowl of walnuts with a v-shaped, stainless steel nutcracker were set out on the glass coffee table.
Connie gave Elyse a quick hug, shook Josh's hand, and bent down to meet an enthusiastic Emma.
Pulling out a small silver bracelet with aqua-blue stones that she had made from some of leftover supplies at Concetta's house, Connie handed it to Emma.
"It should be the perfect size for an eleven-year-old," she said, putting it on the girl's wrist.
Emma's face lit up. "Thank you. It's beautiful," she said, holding up her wrist, so everyone could see her new bracelet.
Gertrude poured Connie a glass of red wine as she settled into the overstuffed couch. It felt nice to be among family, even if it wasn’t her own.
"Connie learned to make jewelry when she lived in Kenya as a volunteer,” Elyse said as she admired Emma's new bracelet. “She is very talented."
"Thank you." A feeling of warmth spread through Connie’s chest. She loved that a gift of one of her pieces of jewelry could make people so happy. It was one of her favorite things about making jewelry.
“We are studying Africa this month in school,” Emma said. “What was it like to live there?”
“Would you like to see some pictures?” Connie asked pulling out her phone and patting the cushion next to her on the couch.
Emma scooted into the seat next to Connie, and they spent the next fifteen minutes taking a virtual tour of Kenya, which included photos of smiling faces of friends Connie had known, as well as various wildlife, including zebras, giraffes, elephants, impala, and Emma’s favorite, mountain gorillas. There were also photos of coffee plantations, the white, sandy shores of the Indian Ocean, and Mount Kenya, the second highest mountain in Africa. Emma was particularly fascinated by members of the Kikuyu tribe dressed in their traditional leather garments. Emma passed Connie’s phone around the room so everyone could see the photo of Connie in a wraparound skirt and cloak, embellished in cowrie shells.
Connie enjoyed the trip down memory lane as much as Emma seemed to. Her thoughts drifted to a simpler time in her life, when she learned the meaning of gratitude and the importance of community. Perhaps that is part of why I like to make jewelry so much, she thought. It takes me back to a time in my life when everything around me was new and to a place and people filled with so much beauty.
When they had finished, Connie put away the phone, and the conversation drifted to other topics. Josh put a stuffed mushroom and some cheese and crackers on his plate. "Aunt Gertrude," Josh said, smirking, "apparently your great-niece is trying to convince her new friend to move to Sapphire Beach and open a jewelry shop."
"I think that's a fabulous idea," Gertrude said, patting Connie's hand.
Josh grinned. "It seems my lovely, but scheming, wife took Connie to enjoy some of the best activities Sapphire Beach has to offer, complete with a surprise tour of an empty downtown shop." Josh kissed his wife on the head. Then, turning to Connie, he said, "You'll have to excuse my over-enthusiastic wife. She thinks Sapphire Beach is Heaven on Earth and can't understand why the entire world doesn't want to live here."
Elyse laughed, guilt written all over her face.
"That's what makes her such a good realtor," Gertrude said. "She loves this town."
"Fair enough, but aren't realtors supposed to convince their clients to sell their condos, not take them off the market?" he said playfully.
"It feels nice to be wanted," Connie said, smiling at Elyse. "But, like Fr. Paul said this morning, I have to look deep inside to see what my next step should be. If only it were written across the sky in neon marker."
"Don't worry, dear, these things have a way of working themselves out," Gertrude said.
She wished she had Gertrude's certainty.
Connie noticed an appetizing aroma wafting in from the kitchen. "That smells delicious."
"I cooked up some fried calamari," Gertrude said with pride. "It was one of Concetta's favorites when she would come for dinner." Gertrude's eyes grew moist.
Connie placed her hand on the elderly woman's shoulder. "I know. I miss her so much, too."
Gertrude stood up and put her hands together. "Well, let's not let everything get cold. You kids go over to the table, and I'll bring in dinner."
"Emma, honey, why don't you help me bring everything out?" Gertrude said.
The girl jumped up and ran into the kitchen.
"You are going to love this recipe," Gertrude said, stopping to turn around before heading into the kitchen. "The secret is to chop up the testicles and put them right in with batter."
Connie put her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.
"I think she means tentacles," Elyse said looking slightly horrified.
Josh crossed his legs. "Let's hope so."
After dinner, during which they shared stories as good as the food, Connie and Elyse loaded the dishwasher and put on some coffee. Then they moved back to the living room.
"So, I hear you ladies have been snooping around town asking about Hank's murder," Josh said.
Connie looked at Elyse, who shrugged her shoulders.
"It's mainly been me," Connie said, not wanting to get Elyse into trouble.
Josh chuckled. "Oh, believe me, I know my wife has a mind of her own. But you two really need to leave it to the professionals. Even though it looks as though Hank was the target, there's still a killer on the loose. He or she might get angry and lash out, especially if you get too close to the truth."
"I don't think we're in any danger of that," Connie said. "We keep running into dead ends. It was just blind luck that we talked to Mandy."
"Yeah, Elyse told me about that. I heard Mandy came by to give a statement this morning. We're going to question Paula again first thing tomorrow."
"As far as I’m concerned,” Connie said, “the most elusive piece to this whole puzzle is what Hank was doing at Grace's.”
"True. There's no shortage of people with a motive to kill Hank O'Rourke. And anyone with reasonable strength could have hit him over the head with a statuette and dumped him over the balcony. But opportunity - that's where we're stumped."
"Is Grace's condo still a crime scene, or is she able to return home?" Connie asked.
"She was all cleared to return on Saturday. I think she was spending the weekend with her daughter just to get away from everything. She should be back tonight,” Josh said.
That was the best news Connie had heard since Thursday. But the serious expression on Josh’s face told her that Grace’s troubles were far from over.
“Just so you know, Connie, we’ve asked her not to leave town. We are still unable to confirm her alibi.”
“But how would you confirm it?” Connie asked. “She told you she was biking alone, in preparation for her mini-triathlon.”
“Yes, she claimed that she biked through town to the park, but none of the downtown stores’ security cameras caught her on tape."
Connie’s heart sank. Surely at least one of the cameras should have caught her. There had to be a reasonable explanation. She would just have to ask Grace when she saw her later that night.
After dessert, Emma was getting restless, so the party broke up. Elyse had promised her a swim in the pool, and Connie needed to get home to feed Ginger, anyway. Before leaving, Connie and Elyse arranged to meet at Connie’s on Tuesday at 1:00, so Elyse could get a photographer in there to take photos for the listing.
On her way back she heard stirring coming from inside Grace's condo. After retrieving some brownies that she had set aside earlier, she took Ginger and knocked on Grace's door. Ginger and some brownies would be just what the doctor ordered.
Grace greeted her with a huge hug, and they went out onto the balcony with some iced tea. Ginger followed, jumping onto Grace's lap, as if she knew she needed to be comforted.
"Palm Paradise hasn't been the same without you. How have you been?" Connie tried not to think about what had recently taken place on that very balcony.
Grace shook her head, looking at Connie through puffy eyes. "I'm just distraught. I can't believe a man was murdered in my own home. It isn't enough that I just lost my best friend; someone has to go and do this in my condo. I always felt so safe here."
Connie heart went out to her. "Why don't you stay next door with me? We could pull down the Murphy bed and have a slumber party until all this is resolved."
"You're a dear, but I'll be okay. Sometimes I just need to vent."
"I don't want you to worry about this Grace. Elyse and I have been asking around a bit, and we're going to get to the bottom of this."
Grace wagged her index finger at Connie. "Honey, promise me that you'll stop that nonsense. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to the two of you. Let the police sort this out."
"We'll be careful," Connie said, grabbing her finger and lightheartedly pushing it away.
"I'll feel better when this whole thing is over. Life is hard enough as it is."
The crestfallen expression that darkened Grace’s face caused Connie to wonder if she was referring to Concetta's death or if there was something else in the mix. She decided it was not the right time to ask her about the apparent hole in her alibi.
Chapter 12
At 7:30 on Monday morning, the ringtone of Connie’s cell phone woke her from a deep sleep. If this is a telemarketer, they're going to get a piece of my mind, she thought, as she fumbled to reach her phone on the nightstand. Grace's name appeared on the caller ID.
"Grace? Is everything okay?"
Grace's panicked voice bellowed through the phone. "I am in Unit 1301. Can you get up here right away? Stephanie is fifteen minutes away, and I need someone to come now." The apartment number sounded familiar, but her mind was still foggy from sleep.
"What is it, Grace?"
"Please, just come quickly," Grace said, her words bordering on hysterical.
Connie hastily changed into the jeans and t-shirt that were draped over the bedroom chair and threw her hair in a ponytail as she jogged out the door.
When she got to thirteenth floor, it occurred to her that 1301 was the unit number of Paula's penthouse apartment. The door was ajar, so she entered. A rancid odor in the air told her something wasn’t right.
"Grace?"
The stillness of the room had the impact of thick fog, causing her to slow her pace. It felt as though her mind was working in slow motion, as she scanned the room and the scene before her gradually came into focus.
Paula O'Rourke was lying on the tile floor of her solarium garden with a knife through her chest, while Grace knelt motionless beside her body.
Instinctively, Connie ran over to check her pulse, but stopped short of
touching Paula. There was no point. She had obviously been dead for a while.
"What on earth happened?" Connie asked, her stomach turning sour. Connie had never seen a dead body up close outside of a wake.
Grace was rocking back and forth, unable to take her eyes off the body. She finally looked up, but her gaze went right past Connie. "I don't know. I came up to thank Paula for the aloe plant she had given me and to express my condolences over Hank. The door was slightly opened, so I came and found her like this."
She guided Grace into the living room and away from the disturbing scene. "We have to call the police," Connie said, dialing 911 with trembling fingers.
She explained the situation to the operator as calmly as possible for Grace's sake, as well as her own. As the words came out of her mouth, it felt like a dream. This isn’t happening.
"Now they're really going to blame me. Hank is killed in my apartment on Thursday, and today I find Paula dead in hers," Grace said, panic rising in her voice.
"We're going to figure this out, Grace," Connie said in the most confident tone she could manage. "Just don't touch anything."
Now that Grace was away from Paula's body and the police were on their way, Connie looked around the solarium, careful not to disturb anything that could be evidence. She had learned that much from seeing how much care the police took to preserve the crime scene in Grace’s home on Thursday.
Her thoughts flashed to a few days before, when she had been sipping coffee in that same room talking with Paula.
Connie examined the door but didn't see any sign of forced entry. Paula probably invited the killer into the house. Throughout the apartment she couldn't see any indication of his or her presence, except for that one big one - a dead body with a knife in it. She hoped the trained eyes of the police would see something more.
When she finished inspecting the living room and solarium, her eyes made their way to the dining room table, and she noticed a manila folder labeled "2006 - Royal Palm Project".
Knowing the police would be there any minute, Connie quickly pulled a pen from her purse and used it to open the folder, in order to avoid touching anything. In the same way, she carefully spread out the pages on the table, pulled her phone from her pocket, and snapped a picture of each one. She wanted to take a good look at them, since it was the only potential clue she could locate. Then she used the pen again to push the documents back the way she found them.
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