Murder Turns the Page Page 7
“Everyone will be at this party,” said Owen as they walked. “Including our remaining suspects.”
“Addy, Blanche, Helen, and of course, Michael,” said Franny quietly.
“I think we should focus on Helen first,” said Alice. “I’ll bet we can eliminate her from the list. We know her the best, and I know exactly the approach we should take.”
“What’s that?” asked Franny.
“Sympathy,” said Alice. “Helen is an emotional person. We appeal to her emotions, and she’ll open up.”
“I do feel terrible for her,” said Franny. “I’ve never seen her so upset.”
“I know,” said Alice, looking around. “She should be . . . Yes. There she is. I put her in charge of the pedal boats.”
They walked to where the pedal boats were docked. A lively crowd was gathered, with a steady stream of visitors climbing into their boats as others disembarked. Helen was handing people life jackets and giving instructions. Most of the boats were pedaling across the lake to the Cozy Bear Camp and Glamp, where the owners, Harv and Sue Anderson, were serving ice cold lemonade and fresh chocolate chip cookies.
“Looks like your Perchance to Pedal idea is a big hit, Alice,” said Owen.
“Everyone loves a pedal boat,” said Alice with a nod.
She and Ben entered the Independence Day Pedalboat Regatta at Blue Lake as a team ever summer. They’d been the undefeated champions for some time before Owen and Franny’s surprise victory the year before, but had been pleased this July to have reclaimed the Champion’s Cup. Their custom-outfitted pedalboat, which they’d named the Maelstrom Vortex, stayed safely docked at Ben’s.
Helen looked up when she saw them approaching and gave them a wave.
“Hi Helen,” said Alice. “Looks like we got a good crowd.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Helen. “It’s the perfect day to be out here at the lake. People are loving getting out on the water, and they’re also enjoying the Make Your Own Quill Pen and Make Your Own Flower Crown workshops, over in the Clearing. Plus, lots of them are just swimming and sitting in the shade, reading.”
There was a big splash as Phillip Bennett cannonballed into the water and swam out in the direction of Saladin and Addy, who were in a nearby pedal boat.
“I’m glad you’re doing better,” said Alice, lowering her voice a bit and leaning closer to Helen. “I saw how upset you were after Lawrence died. And then when I didn’t see you this morning at the Lodge for the hike . . .”
Helen glanced at her hands and nodded. “I slept in,” she admitted.
“I know you were a big fan of his work. I’m so sorry.”
All Alice had to do was place a comforting hand on Helen’s arm, and Helen’s eyes filled with tears.
Owen took a step forward. “We know you and Lawrence had a special relationship,” he said gently.
Helen met Owen’s eyes, sniffled, and finally nodded. “I met him in Nashville. I take it you heard about that.”
“We did hear something about that,” said Franny.
At this admission, Helen burst into tears. “I’m such a fool,” she said.
“Oh, Helen,” said Alice, hugging her friend. “Come sit in the shade.”
They led Helen to an empty bench in the shade of a large tree and sat down with her.
“It was just a fling. It meant nothing. To Lawrence, that is,” said Helen. “I’m an idiot.”
“Helen, you are not an idiot,” said Alice.
“We heard that Lawrence was quite the ladies’ man,” said Owen. “Left a trial of broken hearts wherever he went.”
“That’s right, Helen,” said Alice. “You’re not the only one.”
“And Lawrence was handsome and brilliant,” added Franny. “Who could blame you for being swept off your feet? You did nothing wrong, Helen.”
“I thought that when Lawrence agreed to come to Blue Valley, it was because of me,” said Helen, shaking her head. “I thought we’d pick up where we left off in Nashville, and that he’d fall for me.”
“You’re a romantic soul,” said Alice.
“I kept wondering why he ignored me after he arrived here,” said Helen. “I even talked to him just before he died—I got up my nerve and confronted him.”
“You did?” asked Owen. “When, exactly?”
“You’ll think I’m a crazy person,” said Helen, rolling her eyes at her own folly. “I waited for Michael to finish his appointment at the Hound, then slipped into the room. I thought if I could just—that he would—” She let out a deep sigh. “Of course, he just set me straight and sent me packing. He didn’t even remember me at first. Can you believe that?”
“Was Michael Boyd in the room?” asked Owen.
“Of course not,” said Helen. “Like I said, I waited until he left.”
“So you saw Michael leave, then went into the party room?” asked Alice.
“Yes . . .” said Helen.
“And Lawrence was still very much alive at that time?” asked Owen.
“Yes . . .”
“Helen, you have to tell Luke and Ben this,” said Alice. “This is proof that Michael didn’t kill Lawrence.”
“They think Michael did it? That’s preposterous!”
“Yes, it is,” said Alice. “And you can save him.”
“I’ll go immediately over to the station,” said Helen, thrusting the life jacket in her hands to Owen. “I had no idea!”
With that, she rushed away, leaving Alice, Owen, and Franny standing on the bank.
“Shall we?” said Owen, holding out the lifejacket for Franny.
“Let’s!” said Franny.
The three of them climbed into the nearest vacant pedal boat.
“We do some of our best thinking while we’re in motion,” said Alice. “And now we have to think about Blanche and Addy—and decide how to discover which one of them is a killer.”
Chapter 14
The Bard’s Bookstop was doing a steady business during the break between the party at the lake and the final round of workshops which included All’s Well that Ends Well: Ending Your Book with a Bang with Blanche, Love’s Labor: How to Write and Still Maintain Your Day Job with Saladin, and finally, The Muse and the Meter: A Master Class in Poetry. Lawrence had been on tap to teach this last workshop, but thankfully, poet Sonia Blake had stepped in to take it over.
Alice helped Katie and Ann ring up sales until Helen returned from the police station. She strolled up, a smile on her face.
“I can relieve you now, Alice,” Helen said.
“Helen, you look like a million pounds has been lifted off your shoulders,” said Alice.
“I feel so much better,” said Helen. “The truth is, now that I know what kind of person Lawrence Spraggins was, I see that I would’ve been miserable with him. I feel terrible that he died,” she quickly added.
“But glad he won’t be part of your life.”
“Yes. Grateful.”
“I’m glad.”
Just then, Marge Hartfield hurried out of the Waxy Wick with Koi Butler just behind her, carrying a large box.
Koi was the son Marge never had, and although he ran his own yoga studio out of the back of the candle shop, Marge had recently introduced him to the art of candle making, which had been handed down for generations in her family.
“I bet you’re here to restock the candles,” said Alice, clearing a spot on the table so that Koi could set down the box.
“Yep,” said Marge. “We just whipped up another batch of Juliet and 1567. Those two keep selling out.”
Alice took a whiff of the Juliet candle. “Vanilla and . . . What’s that other note I smell?”
“Rose water,” said Marge.
“And 1567 is woodsmoke and cloves,” said Koi proudly. “It’s the first candle I created myself.”
“That’s the year Shakespeare was born, right?” Saladin walked up, grinning from ear to ear—Alice suspected because the beautiful Addy was on his arm.
“This smells amazing,” said Saladin, passing the candle to Addy. “I’ll take three.”
“Make that four,” said Addy. “I’ll remember this weekend every time I smell them.” She smiled at Saladin. “And I want to remember it forever.”
“Make that five,” said Saladin, handing over his credit card.
“See what I mean?” Marge whispered to Alice. “Can’t keep them in stock.”
Alice laughed. “That’s because you and Koi are masters.” She checked her watch. “I’d better be getting over to the bookstore. I want to check in on Lacie and Zack before the afternoon workshops begin.”
“See you tonight at the ball!” Koi called as Alice turned to go.
“Is The Paper Owl your store?” Addy asked, catching up with Alice as she crossed Main Street.
“Yep,” said Alice.
“It’s a lovely place,” said Addy.
“Come on in,” said Alice. “I’ll show you around.”
Addy nodded and held the door open for Alice. “So why is it called The Paper Owl, anyway?”
“Because ever since I was a kid, my favorite animal has been the Northern Saw Whet Owl. Have you ever seen one?”
Addy shook her head.
“Neither have I, technically,” said Alice. “Not in the wild. Anyway, my grandmother—she’s actually getting married tomorrow afternoon—is a woman of many hobbies. And when I was about twelve, she was in the middle of her paper-quilling phase. She made me a quilled picture of a Northern Saw Whet Owl.”
“Seriously?”
Alice nodded. “Still hangs in my living room above the shop.”
“You live above the shop?” Addy’s eyes widened in delight.
“Yep,” said Alice. She lowered her voice. “Right through that door.” Alice pointed at the back bookcase which was actually a door in disguise.
“You have a secret bookcase door?” Addy made a giddy little noise. “I’m so jealous!”
“Isn’t it the best thing ever?”
“Someday, if Sal and I get married, I want a door like that.”
Alice was surprised by this remark, not because the two seemed ill-matched, but because Addy’s ex, Lawrence Spraggins, had just died. “I’m, um, sorry about your loss, by the way,” she said. “I’m glad you’re feeling better today.”
“My—Lawrence, you mean?”
“Yes. It must’ve been very painful to lose your boyfriend so unexpectedly, although—”
“My what?” Addy gave a little gasp. “Lawrence wasn’t my boyfriend.”
“He wasn’t?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because we saw the two of you walking, and you had your hand on his arm, and then you were so upset when he was found.” Alice realized, now that she was saying all of this aloud, that it sounded like pretty flimsy evidence of a romantic connection between the two.
The bells on the door jingled and Saladin came in, carrying his bag of candles. “How goes it, my dear?” he asked, planting a quick kiss on Addy’s cheek.
“Alice thought I was dating Lawrence,” said Addy with a giggle.
“You? And Spraggins?” Saladin laughed out loud. “No, Alice. No one who really knew Lawrence would dare date him. He was a player in the worst sense.”
“He was way too flaky to date,” Addy agreed. “But I did consider him a friend. And an exceptional writer.”
“You argued with him just before he was murdered,” said Alice.
Addy looked suddenly guilty. “I did.” She sighed deeply. “I’ve felt so awful about that.”
“But why were you so angry with him?” asked Alice.
“Because he blew us off for the billionth time,” said Addy. “We were all supposed to have lunch together. Talk about old times.”
“Old times.” Alice looked from Addy to Saladin. “As in, Lookout Mountain Writers Guild times?”
“Yep. The whole group from the Chattanooga area,” said Saladin. “These days, it’s rare we’re all in one place at one time.”
Alice nodded slowly. “Now I get it,” she said. “Sorry I assumed you and Lawrence were an item.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Addy. “I’ve got my Sal now, and life is good.”
Saladin snickered. “I can’t imagine who would ever be able to stand Lawrence long enough to seriously date him—except for Blanche, of course.” He gave Alice a little wave. “We’d better go get ready for the workshop. We’ll see you later, Alice.”
“Hold it! Blanche dated Lawrence?”
Saladin and Addy both nodded.
“Back in the day,” said Addy.
“Until she figured out what he was,” added Sal.
Addy shook her head and sighed. “She learned the hard way.”
“Alice!” Alice’s name came in a shriek. She looked toward the bookcase door, which had just flown open, to see Owen, panting and waving his arms like some kind of crazy, giant bird. “It’s time!”
“It’s time?” Alice hurried to the door. “Wait—it’s time? Franny? The baby?”
“Yes! Come on! She’s getting into the car out back right now. We have to get her to the hospital!”
“Ben?”
“We’ll call him on the way! Hurry!”
“Don’t worry, Alice,” Lacie called from the counter. “We’ve got everything covered here. Go!”
Chapter 15
“I can’t believe it was a false alarm.” Franny let out a groan. “Those contractions felt pretty real.”
“Did you have onion rings for lunch?” asked Ben.
Alice elbowed her brother.
“Never mind,” said Ben, putting an arm around Franny. “Doc Howard said this is very common, you know. Especially with first pregnancies.”
“I know,” said Franny, rolling her shoulders back and reaching around to rub the back of her neck. “But I’m sorry you all came to the hospital for nothing.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” said Luke, taking Alice’s hand.
The whole gang had come to the hospital. When Franny was wheeled away, a nervous Ben at her side, Alice, Owen, and Luke had paced the waiting area, sampled various items from the snack and coffee machines, and tested each of the different couches to ascertain which was the most comfortable. Martin and Bea Maguire, Alice and Ben’s parents, along with Granny and her soon-to-be husband Chester had rushed in. And finally, Franny’s parents, Albert and Pippa Brown had come running in—Albert accidentally knocking a candy striper over in his mad dash to get to his daughter.
Albert and Pippa had arrived from Pigeon Forge a few days before, and were ensconced at the Valley Inn as they anxiously awaited the arrival of their first grandchild.
“We can still get to the gala on time,” said Franny.
“Franny, dear, are you sure you’re up to it?” asked Pippa.
“Yes, Mom,” said Franny. “The doctor says it’s fine. And I promise I’ll take it easy.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Brown,” said Owen. “We’ll watch her like a hawk.”
“Owen, call me Pippa. We’re practically family!”
Alice hung back and took Granny’s hand. “I’ve been so busy with Midsummer Night’s Read that I haven’t even asked you how you’re feeling about your wedding tomorrow.”
“I’m tickled pink,” said Granny with a giggle. “And how perfect it is that we’ll be having our reception at the park, with all of those lovely decorations from tonight’s gala still up.”
“It’s going to be enchanting, Granny,” said Owen. “And Hilda and I have the wedding cake ready to go. I’ll put the finishing touches on it tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, Owen,” said Granny. “Now. You all go and have fun at the party. We’ll see you tomorrow at the church.”
Alice planted a kiss on Granny’s cheek, and they all parted ways for the evening.
Back at the rooftop garden, everyone met after a flurry of co
stume-donning and hair-doing. Owen’s Puck costume was the definite favorite, a shimmering, leafy toga-style number, complete with a wreath of ivy wound around his head like a crown and tiny horns jutting out of his mussed brown hair. Ben and Franny were going as Nick Bottom—complete with donkey head—and Titania, queen of the fairies. Franny’s cornflower-colored gown set off her bright blue eyes and dark hair.
“Thank heaven for empire waistlines!” she said with a laugh.
Alice and Luke had decided to go to the gala as Lysander and Hermia, with Luke in a simple tunic and Alice in a dazzling gown, a glittering tiara tucked into her red curls.
Alice quickly filled everyone in on her conversation with Saladin and Addy from just before the mad dash to the hospital.
“Seriously? You’re saying Blanche Miller dated the victim? And they even lived together?” Ben took off his donkey head and tucked it under his arm. “We questioned her extensively. She never told us that.”
“They don’t always tell the truth,” said Luke, shaking his head. “This changes everything. Good work, Alice.”
“Blanche lied to us, too,” said Alice. “First, she said she and Lawrence were basically professional acquaintances who ran into each other at conferences and things. Then, we found out the two had been part of the same writers group, and knew each other better than Blanche had let on.”
“But we never got even a whiff of this,” said Owen. “Guess you never know where Cupid’s arrow will strike.”
“Remember yesterday morning, just before the opening ceremony?” Franny walked to the rooftop façade and looked down over Main Street. “We saw Addy and Lawrence walking together.”
“That’s when we decided they were an item,” said Owen.
“And then we saw Lawrence walk over and say something to Blanche.”
“That’s right,” said Alice. “I remember thinking she didn’t look happy to see him.”
“I wonder what he said to her . . .” said Owen.
“Saladin said Lawrence was always saying that Blanche stole his ideas,” said Alice.