Murder Steals the Show (Rooftop Garden Cozy Mysteries Book 7) Page 8

  “Plus, it would seem the mystery of the Scarlet Lady is solved,” added Owen. “Wamba—and also Damon—stole the jewels. And Taya—well, drugging Damon was the wrong thing to do, but I know she never meant to truly hurt him. Hopefully, the judge will believe that.”

  “So the thief and the murderer didn’t turn out to be the same person after all,” said Alice. “They turned out to be three different people.”

  “What do Ben and Luke think about all this?” asked Owen.

  “I texted Luke right away when Taya confessed to drugging Damon,” said Alice. Her phone buzzed. “I bet that’s him now,” she said, pulling it out of her pocket. “Uh-oh.” Alice put down her watering can and held her phone with both hands, reading through the message.

  “Uh-oh?” Owen went and looked over Alice’s shoulder.

  “Taya put a laxative into Damon’s drink,” said Alice.

  “That old trick!” said Owen, which got him looks from both Alice and Franny.

  “So . . . not a mega dose of valium?” asked Franny, who had jumped up and was reading over Alice’s other shoulder.

  “Nope. And there’s more. They found the valium had been given by injection,” said Alice. “Not by mouth.”

  “Did Wamba kill Damon after all, then?” asked Franny. “Is Wamba the person who’s been committing all of the thefts in the wake of the faire—and this time, he leveled up to murder?”

  These questions were met with a long pause.

  “I wonder if Ethel ever remembered which faire staff members came into the museum before the robbery, other than Little John and Gabby,” said Alice.

  “She said it was two men and a woman, right?” asked Franny.

  “I think so,” said Alice.

  “I’ll text her,” said Owen, pulling out his phone.

  Before they’d even had time to ponder the matter any further, Owen’s phone dinged.

  “She remembered!” he said triumphantly. “The old steel trap worked!”

  “What did Ethel say? Who came into the museum?” Alice reached for Owen’s phone, but he quickly swiped it away.

  “Drumroll, please,” he said with a sly smile. “Ethel says she saw the three at the faire last night and specifically checked their names. She looked around for us, but of course, we’d left early.”

  “Sorry about that,” said Franny.

  “Don’t be. Your poor swollen feet couldn’t help it,” said Owen, and he held up his phone with Ethel’s message displayed on the screen. “Wamba. Drake. Lois.”

  “But didn’t the Clarks say they hadn’t been to the museum?” asked Alice. “That they’d only read about the necklace in the newspaper?”

  “That’s how I remember it,” said Franny. “Why lie about that?”

  “If the old steel trap is working properly, the Clarks, along with Wamba, did come into the museum, so any one of them could’ve unlocked that window.”

  “We’ve already confirmed they weren’t at the campground when the crimes took place,” said Franny. “Maybe Owen’s idea was right. Maybe more than one person committed the crime, and Wamba wasn’t working alone.”

  “It doesn’t sit well that the Clarks lied about having been at the museum. As far as I’m concerned, they just moved to the top of the list of suspects,” said Alice.

  Chapter 14

  “So, your butt is inflatable?” asked Franny, patting the horse’s backside that bounced along behind Owen as they walked down Main Street toward Town Park.

  “Yep. There’s a little fan in there,” said Owen, who wore a brown leather-like vest, and an impressive mane of gleaming brown hair, and carried a bow and arrows. “I just keep my two front legs moving, and the rest of me follows!”

  “Cool!” said Franny.

  “And you,” said Owen, “look like some kind of mysterious, beautiful woodland creature.” Franny’s costume for the day featured flowers set around small horns that protruded from her brown hair, and a leafy green knee-length gown with blue flowers scattered over it.

  “Thank you!” Franny looked down at her skirt. “I made it myself.”

  Franny and Owen looked at Alice.

  “Your costume is, um, very nice,” Owen said slowly.

  “Yes! Very nice,” agreed Franny. “What are you . . . supposed to be?”

  “Franny! How could you not know?” asked Alice. “I’m a giant turkey leg!”

  Light dawned simultaneously in Franny and Owen’s eyes, which was followed by a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter.

  “Get a grip,” said Alice, rolling her eyes. Her turkey drumstick costume was a little bit itchy, and a little bit hard to move around in, if she was being honest. It was one giant, brown, pear-shaped piece, with four holes for Alice’s arms and legs, and another for her face, which peeked out through the opening just beneath the ‘bone’ part of the drumstick.

  “You’re definitely going to be in the running at the Fairest of the Faire contest this afternoon,” said Owen, wiping a tear from his eye.

  “Shut up,” said Alice, hiking her bag up onto her shoulder and trying to pick up her pace, but found it challenging since she could only very quickly move her legs from the knees down.

  “You’re a turkey drumstick carrying a messenger bag,” said Owen. “What do you keep in there? Napkins?”

  This was followed by another round of giggles from both Owen and Franny.

  Alice looked over at the Heritage Museum as they passed it on the way to the park, and her steps slowed. She walked over and looked into the front window, at the display of photos from faires past. Next to them was a poster about the Scarlet Lady exhibit, with the word ‘Cancelled’ pasted across it.

  As she read the words beneath the photo of the necklace, something on the edge of Alice’s memory bothered her. She set her bag down on the bench outside the museum, opened it, and took out the newspaper from two days earlier with the front-page article about the necklace.

  “Ethel clearly didn’t make this poster,” said Alice, pointing.

  “Definitely not,” said Owen. “That poster probably comes with the exhibit. It’s a professional job, for sure.”

  “It’s beautiful,” added Franny. “They must put these in the windows wherever the necklace is on display.”

  “Read the description of the Scarlet Lady,” said Alice.

  Owen squinted at the words. “An Old-World treasure is visiting your town! The world-famous Scarlet Lady was given to Spanish explorers in Tennessee by Queen Isabella of Spain—and now you can see it for yourself! Marvel at the twenty-three-carat diamond at the center of the setting, affectionately known across the state as the Grand Ole Gal. Then, feast your eyes on the tiny red diamonds around it, amounting to a total of nearly seventy carats! These extremely rare gems, together with the Grand Ole Gal, make the Scarlet Lady worth over twenty-five million dollars!” Owen took a deep breath. “What?”

  By this time, Alice had found the part of the article in the newspaper that she’d been looking for. “Ah-ha!” she said. “I knew something was off!”

  “What is it?” asked Franny, leaning over to read the words.

  “The article in the Blue Valley Post is an interview with Ethel. Ethel mistakenly called those red stones rubies. Not diamonds.”

  Owen had already whipped out his phone. “It says here that red diamonds are the rarest and most valuable of all!”

  “We’ve been thinking the Grand Ole Gal was the big treasure,” said Alice. “But the little stones around it are worth far more.”

  “This is amazing!” said Franny.

  “Something else has been bothering me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was until now,” said Alice.

  “That you’re too fatty and greasy?” asked Owen.

  Alice gave Owen her evil eye. “That the Clarks have called them diamonds all along,” she said. “They knew more about that necklace than anyone else in town. We were all going by what Ethel said. But the Clarks knew better.”

  Alice
shoved the paper back into her bag and slung it over her shoulder as best she could. The three of them walked on toward the park. When they got there, they saw Little John and Gabby standing near the gazebo, and were surprised to find that they were talking to Wamba.

  “Oh, I’m glad to see you three,” said Little John in his booming voice as they approached. “Wamba’s just come from the police station.”

  “We saw you leaving the clearing this morning,” Alice said to Wamba. “Dewey didn’t arrest you after all?”

  “Nope,” said Wamba. “The little red stones in my pocket were from Little Wamba’s hat.” He pulled the marotte from his pocket and jingled it at Alice. “The jeweler examined them and said they were just very well-made fakes—like the ones on my hat.” He pointed at his sparkling hat, its three points jingling when he moved his head.

  “Also like the ones on my gown,” said Alice. She thought of the gorgeous gown, of the sparkling stones scattered across the bodice—many of them red . . . And of the last-minute alterations the Clarks had insisted upon, the same day as the robbery, even though Alice knew the dress fit perfectly.

  “Wamba. Ralph. I have a question for you,” said Alice.

  Wamba looked Alice right in the eye and nodded.

  “Why do you have a bunch of specialized tools in your tent?”

  “Because of my hobby,” said Wamba, pulling his pocket watch from his pocket and flipping open the case. “I collect old pocket watches. Didn’t I tell you that?” He paused for a beat. “Wait, how do you know about my tools?”

  Alice didn’t take the time to answer this. “Little John, where are the Clarks?” she asked.

  Little John frowned at the urgency in Alice’s voice. “They’ll be here in about an hour,” he said.

  “Their performance was supposed to be at one o’clock,” said Franny, looking at her watch. “It’s five ‘til.”

  “They postponed,” said Gabby, pointing toward the gazebo, where the Gothic Trolls had drawn quite a crowd, and the sweet sounds of a dulcimer, harp, and lute floated through the air.

  “Ooh—they’re playing my favorite. The Epic Adventure of Lyle, the Hircocervus,” said Owen, applauding.

  “Alice, what’s going on?” asked Little John.

  “Is that golf cart available?” Alice asked, waddling at top speed over to a Nottingham Faire golf cart that was parked nearby.

  “Yes,” said Little John, taking out the keys.

  “To the Cozy Bear, right?” said Wamba. “I’m coming with you!” He leapt into the back of the cart.

  “So am I,” said Little John, taking the wheel.

  “Me, too,” said Gabby, squeezing in beside Little John.

  They all piled into the cart, which groaned under their collective weight as they pulled away from the curb and Little John turned to drive back down Main Street toward the lake. More than a few heads turned to see the golf cart looking more like a clown car, stuffed with medieval characters—a giant turkey leg and the tail end of a centaur hanging over the back.

  “Now will someone tell me what’s happening?” Little John asked as they sped along.

  “The Clarks are making a run for it,” said Alice. “Owen, call Dewey!”

  Chapter 15

  As she ran toward the Clarks’ glamping tent, Alice was reminded once more how difficult it was to run in a turkey leg costume. She stumbled several times and actually fell down once, tearing her brown tights and skinning her knee.

  “You’re waddling,” said Owen with a snicker, as he and Franny helped Alice up.

  “I can’t help it!” said Alice, dusting herself off as best she could and glaring at Owen. “Do you think I planned to run in this getup?”

  When they arrived at the Clarks’ yurt, the first things to greet them were the two dress forms, now wearing Alice and Owen’s costumes. They had been carefully picked over, so that certain gems were missing, with threads hanging down from the empty spaces left behind. In several places, the fabric had even been torn, as though the Clarks had been in a hurry to harvest the jewels.

  “I’ve been at the gate all day,” said Harve, peering into the yurt. “The Clarks came in about an hour ago, but they never left or checked out or anything. They must still be here somewhere.”

  “We need to split up,” said Alice. “Little John—you, Gabby, and Wamba check the other tents and the campground. Harve and Sue, guard the gate and watch for Dewey. Owen, Franny, and I will head into the woods and check the trails. I know a back way out of the campground. Maybe they went that way.”

  Everyone dispersed at top speed, and Alice finally began to catch her stride in her costume. She, Owen, and Franny moved among the trails and rustic campsites tucked back into the woods, but there was no sign of the Clarks—only a few campers who were surprised, to say the least, at the sight of a giant turkey leg, centaur, and woodland nymph running through the woods. Alice was just beginning to get discouraged when she saw something shiny, glinting in the sun to the side of the trail.

  “Wait!” she said. “What’s that?”

  On closer inspection, they found a snippet of holographic fringe.

  “I remember this!” said Franny, examining the find. “Several of the performers have this fringe on their costumes!”

  “We’re on the right track, then,” said Owen, looking further down the trail they were on. “Let’s keep going.”

  Just as they started to move further into the woods, which were rapidly closing in around them, Alice heard a twig snap.

  “Wait—did you hear that?” she whispered, her heart pounding.

  “What?” asked Owen. “Oh—I can hear a distant siren. Dewey’s on the way!”

  Then Alice saw it. “Look!” She pointed toward a large clump of bushes. “You can come out now, Lois and Drake,” she called, feeling more confident as the police siren got nearer.

  “We know you took the jewels. You might as well give it up,” said Owen.

  There was a bit more movement in the bushes, then Lois and Drake emerged, looking defeated.

  “How did you figure it out?” Lois asked quietly, stepping in front of her brother.

  “We put the clues together. You knew the little red stones were diamonds when everyone else thought they were rubies. You lied about having been to the museum Wednesday. You weren’t here at the campground when the robbery was taking place,” said Alice. “It all added up.”

  Lois glanced over her shoulder at Drake. “I guess we’d better turn ourselves in,” she said, taking another step closer to Alice.

  “I guess you’re right,” Drake said.

  Alice tried to see him around his sister. He was holding something in his hand. Some kind of rope. Suddenly, in one swift movement, Drake swung one end of the rope at a limb overhead. The rope wrapped around and caught on the limb.

  “It’s a bola wrap!” Owen yelled as Drake deftly climbed the rope and in a blur, began swinging. As he swung over Lois, she grabbed his legs, and at the highest point, flipped in the air, landing on her feet on the other side of Alice, Owen, and Franny. She lunged at Alice and before Alice knew what was happening, her arms were pinned behind her, and Drake had landed on the ground next to her and had whipped out a loaded syringe.

  “No one was supposed to die, you know,” said Lois, tightening what felt like a cord of some kind around Alice’s wrists. “No one’s ever died before.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Alice,” Drake added, taking the cap off the needle and squirting a tiny bit of fluid through it.

  When Owen made a move toward Alice, Drake put the needle near her shoulder, which was covered only by a thin layer of brown fabric.

  “Get back!” Lois threatened.

  Drake turned his head at the sound of the police car, which had clearly arrived at the campground. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said calmly. “You’re going to let us leave, or else Alice here is going to be taking a very long nap.”

  “Apparently, this stuff sometimes kills p
eople, so you probably don’t want to risk it,” said Lois.

  Owen and Franny immediately gave them some space. Alice felt tears stinging her eyes.

  “That’s better,” said Drake. “You two go and have a seat by that tree, and Lois will tie you up.”

  Owen and Franny did as they were told, and within seconds, they were secured to the tree with the bola wrap.

  “Good work,” said Lois. “We’ll be on our way now.” She looked at Alice. “By the way, Alice, that’s the dumbest costume ever.”

  Even in her precarious position, Alice felt a little insulted.

  Suddenly, Dewey could be heard calling from the main campground. “Owen! Alice! Franny!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

  Everyone froze.

  “Not one sound,” said Drake, holding the syringe an inch from Alice’s arm.

  As Dewey’s voice began to grow a bit more distant, Alice realized he’d taken the wrong trail. She took a deep breath and made a decision.

  “Dewey! We’re here!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, surprising everyone.

  “Bad choice, turkey leg!” said Drake.

  Just as he was about to plunge the needle into Alice’s arm, a wooden juggling ball flew through the air and hit him squarely in the head. He gave a yelp of pain, stumbled, and fell backward onto the ground, dropping the syringe.

  Then Alice kicked Lois in the shin—a move she was able to make even in her restrictive drumstick costume. “That’s for calling my costume dumb!”

  Wamba joined Alice, whacking Lois and then Drake in turn with Little Wamba, all the while, Owen and Franny cheered from their tree. Within seconds, Dewey, Little John, and Gabby found them—and moments later, the Clarks were being led away in handcuffs.

  “And that, my friends, is how it’s done,” said Owen, dusting his hands.

  Alice linked arms with him and Franny, and they walked together down the trail, back toward the campground and the lake.

  “Ben’s going to go nuts when he hears about this,” said Franny, laying a protective hand over her belly. She sniffled quietly. “I think it’s just now hitting me that we were in real danger there for a minute.”