by Mary Kruger
“Wasn’t he at your house last night?”
Ari let out a sigh and headed toward the table where a continental breakfast had been set out. Her neighbor must have spread the word. “I see the Suspects Club is no longer in order,” she said, avoiding the subject.
Diane glanced over her shoulder. “No, everyone’s been sitting apart since we came in.”
“I thought there’d be a lot of talk about Rosalia.”
She shook her head. “No, I think everyone’s in shock. You know that no one much cared about Felicia, but this is a different story.”
“Yes.” Ari gave the Danish pastry and the donuts a long look, and then placed some fruit on her plate instead. “Have you talked with anyone?”
“No, I got here just before you did.”
“Hm.” She glanced across the room. “Debbie looks lonely,” she said and, giving Diane a look, crossed the room.
Debbie did look lost, sitting as she did on one of the small, uncomfortable padded chairs that all hotels seemed to use in their conference rooms. There seemed to be a zone of space around her, as if people feared she was contagious. “Hi,” Ari said, sitting next to her.
Debbie started. “Oh. Ari. Hi. It’s awful, isn’t it?”
Ari sipped her coffee and nodded. “I still don’t quite believe it. Rosalia, of all people.”
“I know. I can’t get over the shock.”
Ari sat back to look at her. Debbie looked terrible. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were puffy. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes, which didn’t help. “I would have brought you a change of clothes if I’d thought of it,” Ari said. “We’re pretty much the same size.”
Debbie shot her a quick, distracted smile. “That’s not the most important thing today.”
“I suppose not.”
“They’ll keep us longer now, won’t they?”
“I don’t know.” Ari hadn’t thought about it, but now that she did it made sense. The police were now investigating another murder. She didn’t for one moment believe it was an accident. “Probably.”
“Good.” Debbie’s voice was grim. “I want them to find Felicia’s killer.”
“They will. It might take time.”
“Then they’d better hurry up. I don’t know how much Winston can take.”
“How is he?”
“About as well as he can be. Thank God he’s not a suspect, so he doesn’t have to be here today.” She twisted around in her seat. “Is there anyplace I could get a cigarette? I’m dying for one.”
“I don’t know. Maybe the police will let you go outside.”
“I doubt it, after Beth’s little trick last night.”
“What was that?”
“Didn’t you hear? She took off.”
“She did?”
“Yes. She claimed she needed some things, but I heard she was halfway to New Jersey by the time the cops caught up with her.”
“Did she really think she’d get away with it?”
“She probably didn’t think at all.” Debbie’s voice was scornful. “She’s not too bright.”
“You’d better not say that in the magazine. I know you’re going to go after everyone, but you don’t want to open yourself to a lawsuit.”
“If I get the magazine.”
“What do you mean?”
“I talked with Winston last night. He doesn’t know what was in Felicia’s will.”
“But why wouldn’t you get it, Debbie? Felicia trusted you.”
Debbie shrugged. “It might go to her daughter.”
Chapter 14
“Her daughter?” Ari said carefully.
“Yes. I thought you knew.”
“Yes,” Ari said, feeling her way now. “But I didn’t think you did.”
Debbie nodded. “For some time now.”
“She told you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know who it is?”
“No. All I know is that all of a sudden this woman shows up, claiming to be Felicia’s long-lost daughter. I didn’t even know Felicia had a kid.”
“Do the police know about this?”
“Not that I know of.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, though, they did ask a lot of questions about someone calling the magazine. I didn’t know why. Now I wonder…”
“What did you tell them?”
She shrugged. “We’re always getting calls from people who want to talk to Felicia personally. We don’t let the ones we don’t know through.”
“And yet this daughter got to her somehow.”
Debbie was frowning again. “I wonder.”
“What?”
“There was one woman. She never identified herself, but she did say something that made Felicia react.”
“What was it?”
“ ‘Hartford CSS.’ And no, I don’t know what it means, either.”
Ari thought for a moment. “SS. Social Services?”
“Maybe. Yeah. It could be.” She stared into space. “Felicia grew up in Connecticut.”
“So how did you find out?”
“Felicia told me.”
“She did?”
“Yes, but not right away. I remember now, she looked upset for a few days. Then she had a luncheon appointment and she wouldn’t tell me who with. That was unusual. I kept track of her calendar.”
Which raised another question in Ari’s mind, but she pushed it aside for a minute. “You think it was the daughter?”
“Yes. In fact, I know it was. It was a few days later that Felicia called me into her office and told me about her.”
“You must have been surprised.”
“Ha. That’s putting it mildly.”
“Did she say anything about the magazine?”
“No. If you’re asking did she tell me she planned on giving it to this woman, I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“It would hurt, wouldn’t it, if you didn’t get the magazine?” she said gently.
Debbie glared at her. “What do you think? Anyway, I don’t know what’s going to happen. No one does. God, I want that cigarette.”
Did Josh know about this? Ari wondered. Did he know that Debbie knew about Felicia’s daughter, who might inherit the magazine? She looked around the room for Josh, but saw only state troopers that she didn’t know. She’d have to tell him about this conversation, even if she didn’t want to. She liked Debbie. Unfortunately she’d just made herself into a stronger suspect. “What are those?” Ari asked
“Hm? Oh, these.” Debbie looked at the pictures she held loosely in her hands. “Nancy took them. I wanted to look them over in case we did do an article on the festival. You can look at them.”
Ari took them, giving them only a perfunctory glance. She’d look at them later, when she could concentrate on them. Right now she wanted to keep Debbie talking. “Debbie, you said you kept Felicia’s schedule?”
Debbie looked up from pulling a pack of cigarettes from her pocketbook. “Yes. So?”
“When did you know you were coming here?”
“Monday. She had to cancel a dinner for it.” She frowned. “I thought at the time it was strange. No offense, Ari, but this wasn’t the kind of thing she went to.”
“None taken. It was a surprise to me, too. Do you think she could have come here to see someone?”
Debbie’s head whipped around. “What do you mean?”
“Her daughter?”
“Jesus. Maybe.”
“Would you recognize her daughter’s voice?”
“I doubt it. I only spoke to her twice, and that was on the phone.”
“Did she give you any idea how old her daughter is?”
Debbie shook her head. “No. She didn’t tell me anything else. I’m not sure she was happy about it, though.”
“Why not?”
“The way she looked most of the time. Of course, she and Winston had both just found out they were sick, so that could have been it. But I don’t think so. I asked
her once about the daughter, and she changed the subject fast. And then she decided to come here.” Again she shook her head. “I don’t understand any of it.”
Neither do I, Ari thought as she handed the pictures back. All she knew was that Debbie’s motive for killing Felicia was stronger than she’d realized. Why she’d kill Rosalia, too, was another story. Unless…
“Good morning,” a voice said at the back of the room, and she turned to see Chief Mason. Josh was behind him, looking tired and grim. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the news by now. Before we begin, does anyone have any questions?”
“Yes. How long are you going to keep us here?” Beth Marley asked.
Charlie gave her a long look, but she didn’t flinch. “It’ll be a while. We need to ask everyone some more questions.”
“Chief, was Rosalia murdered?” Ari asked.
“That’s one of the things we’re investigating. We’ll be using another conference room for questioning. We’ll call you in one by one. Depending on what you tell us, you might get to go home.” He paused. “Or not.”
“Humph. So you’re going to keep us prisoner?” Beth said.
“A little strong, Mrs. Marley, but if that’s the word you want to use…” He shrugged. “Nancy, why don’t you come with me first.”
“All right.” Nancy, her shoulders squared, rose and followed Charlie from the room.
The room was almost unnaturally quiet in the wake of Nancy leaving. Covertly Ari glanced around. Most people had brought something to keep them busy. Lauren and Annie were both knitting, while Debbie was staring at a copy of the New York Times. Even Beth had opened a shiny leather portfolio and, with much ado, was using a blue pencil to make broad, sweeping marks across some papers. Someone’s article was getting savaged, Ari thought, and was glad she didn’t have any association with Beth beyond the events of the past days. She was especially glad she wasn’t in Nancy’s shoes. She’d had enough of police questioning for a while. Someone could go first.
Josh was tired of interrogating people he strongly suspected were innocent. He watched Nancy as Charlie ushered her into the small conference room, noting her pallor and the circles under her eyes. This had been tough on everyone.
“Good morning,” he said, rising from the table and coming around to pull out a chair for her.
“Will this take long?”
“No.”
Nancy’s eyes filled with tears. “I couldn’t have killed Rosalia. She was a good friend.”
“I’m sorry.” Josh leaned forward. “I know this is difficult for you. What we need to know—and we’ll be asking this of everyone—is if you saw anything out of the ordinary yesterday afternoon.”
“Everything was out of the ordinary yesterday.”
“Did you see Rosalia, Nancy?” Charlie asked gently.
“Yes, I suppose so, but only in the way I saw everyone else. We all had a lot to pack up and load into our cars. I was busy.” She fumbled in her bag for a Kleenex. “If only I didn’t leave those damned fleeces behind.”
“I think, Nancy, that whoever killed Rosalia would have used whatever she found.”
“She used my fleeces.” Nancy wiped her eyes. It was obvious that she was holding on to her composure by sheer willpower. “Why?”
There was no answer. Josh knew about living with the guilt of being the unwitting instrument of someone’s death. There wasn’t anything he could say to comfort her. “Just a few more questions, Nancy, and then you can go.”
“Home?”
Charlie shook his head, reluctantly. “I’m afraid not. We still have other things to figure out.”
“I didn’t kill that other woman. I didn’t even know her. I told you that. And I told you I didn’t see anything.”
“We know. But think back. Was there anything different about yesterday afternoon? Did you see Rosalia talking to anyone in particular?”
Nancy’s brow wrinkled. “No. I know she helped some people bring things to their cars—”
“Who?”
“Diane, because she had her spinning wheel. But I think she also helped the out-of-towners. I know I saw her with Debbie. She was comforting her. But she also helped Lauren and Annie.”
“Did you see her after that?”
“No, now that I think of it, I didn’t. I assumed she went home.”
Josh and Charlie exchanged looks again. “Can you think of anything else, Nancy?”
Nancy’s head was lowered. “No.”
“All right. If you do, let us know.” Charlie rose and escorted her to the door, his hand under her elbow. “Patrolman Ross will bring you back to the main conference room.”
Nancy nodded, and let herself be led away. Charlie watched her for a moment, and then turned back into the room, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”
“She saw Rosalia with her killer.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Charlie sat down and stretched out, arms behind his head. “I think she just told us how the killer did it, too. At least, part of it.”
“You’re thinking she dragged Rosalia into her car?”
“Yeah.”
Josh nodded. “I think so, too. Then she headed out to King Street—no. The staties would have noticed anyone who didn’t go toward the motel.”
“So she turned around someplace.”
“She has nerve, whoever she is.”
“We guessed that already.” Charlie sighed and reached for the legal pad on which he’d scribbled notes from the interview. “Well, let’s get Ari in here and get her interview over with.”
Ari paused at the doorway to the motel’s smaller conference room, and then walked in. Josh rose at her entrance and walked to meet her, his hand extended. “Good morning,” he said coolly, as if last night had never happened.
“Good morning.” Her voice was equally cool. To be fair, she knew that their talk of last night was personal, but it was a bit of a jolt to see Josh so distant. “Why would someone kill Rosalia?”
Charlie shook his head. “We don’t know. Ari, we need to know if you saw anything yesterday afternoon. It looks like you left before Rosalia.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying much attention. I just wanted to get out of there.”
“I understand. Most people felt that way. But someone had other ideas.”
“Do you think it was the person who killed Felicia?”
“Ari, we can’t discuss the case with you,” Charlie said, giving Josh a quick look.
Ari wondered how much Charlie knew about her talk with Josh yesterday. Probably more than he would let on. “Yes, but I can think about it.”
Charlie groaned. “Ari, please, don’t tell him any of your crackpot theories.”
“I’m not a crackpot,” she protested, hurt.
He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s been a tough couple of days, but I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just meant that Briggs won’t listen if you do come up with something.”
“Because I’m not a cop?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t have to be one to know that there’s something fishy about two murders in one place within a few hours of each other. Do you know if Rosalia was adopted?”
“Her husband says not, but we’re getting her birth certificate from him to be sure. Why do you ask?”
“Well.” She took a deep breath. She felt as if she were about to betray someone, and yet if she could help, she had to. “I was talking to Debbie earlier,” she said, and went on to relate the conversation. When she was done, the room was quiet.
“I like Debbie. I think she loved Felicia. But…”
“But what?”
“She said Felicia was like a mother to her. Wouldn’t it have felt like a betrayal if Felicia suddenly left everything to some unknown daughter?”
“Meaning that Debbie has a motive beyond the financial one?” Charlie looked at Josh. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s possible,” he said. “Especially since she seems to be a b
it unbalanced.”
“I’m not sure she is,” Ari protested. “I think it was just the way she reacted to the shock.”
“She sure has a lot of ideas for that magazine, though, doesn’t she?”
Ari looked away, and as she did so something ghosted through her mind; something she’d seen, something connected with the magazine. Try though she might, she couldn’t bring the memory back. “She’s ambitious. But I do believe she loved Felicia.”
“What about the daughter?” Charlie asked.
“Maybe,” she said reluctantly, and then frowned. “How could she have killed Rosalia?”
Charlie and Josh looked at each other again. “Oh, hell,” Charlie said. “You might as well tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
“Are you familiar with the back entrance to the fairgrounds?”
“Of course. A lot of people used it yesterday.”
Josh leaned forward. “We don’t mean the official back entrance, but the road that branches off King’s Road in Acushnet.”
To Ari’s horror, she could feel herself coloring. “Uh, yes. I do know about that road.”
“Well, Ari,” Charlie said, a smile in his voice.
“That was back in high school, Chief! Everyone who was dating went there,” she explained to Josh. “It was just something we did, and—”
“I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead.” Charlie was grinning now.
“It was a long time ago. But is that how the killer got in?” she said, trying to change the subject.
“We think so. There’s a team out there now looking for evidence.”
“Could you tell me how it happened? Please?”
“We don’t know. Rosalia had left the fairgrounds.”
“She did?”
“We believe she came back in on that road.”
“But why? She had nothing to do with Felicia. It was just bad luck that she was there.”
“Unless, as you said, someone thought she was Felicia’s daughter,” Josh said.
“Are you saying she went back to meet with the killer?”
“It’s possible. We found her SUV behind Barn B.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“Murder doesn’t always make sense, Ari. You know that.”