A Most Curious Murder (13 page)

“Christopher’s coming at noon.” Zoe flew from room to room, waving a feather duster over the surfaces of tables and lamps. A dust mop leaned against the wall in the kitchen hallway. Zoe—despite her nerves and flitting—was resplendent in a red flowered dress that ended just above her ankles, white-flowered earrings. She had a red headband around her hair, so curly today that tendrils waved like tiny snakes.

She stopped dusting to scan the room.

“Does it look okay?”

“Fine,” Jenny said. “Looked fine when I got here. What are you worried about?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Zoe waved a nervous hand. “Christopher wants to see what I’ve gotten done so far with this new book on Alice. I’m a little behind, what with—” She gestured around her. “—everything. I think it will be okay because he wants to talk about the illustrations, too. We’re using the same woman we used on the last book. And he wants to talk about the next book. Can you imagine? It seems the Oz book is still selling well—at least I’m getting very nice checks. I want to be the most cooperative writer he’s ever worked with. Mainly,
I would say, because Christopher is one of the finest men I’ve ever met.”

“Did he ask why you couldn’t come to New York?”

She nodded. “I said I haven’t been feeling well, which is, of course, a lie.” She sighed. “A mark on my immortal soul—but there are so many. I hope it’s a small mark.”

Jenny pitied her. Word was spreading fast through town, the townspeople only too happy to put the blame for murder on a stranger:
She’s lived here only a year, after all. An interloper. What do we know about her?

She’d only known Zoe for a few days, and though she wasn’t completely crazy about her, she couldn’t see her as a murderer. It wasn’t her size that made her an impossible suspect; it was who she seemed to be and how her mind worked—catching things other people didn’t know existed. If not “catching,” then “smelling” out odd possibilities.

Jenny got up to look out Zoe’s front window. A sunny morning. Mom was wrong—no rain. It was a beautiful day for the beach and maybe a picnic up at Norwood where they’d spent hours as children hunting for Petoskey stones along the beach.

“Do you have time to show me those papers you took from Aaron’s house?” she turned to ask.

“Of course. I want you to take a look at them.”

She hurried away, calling over her shoulder as she ran, “Bank statement. Nothing much. But there are two letters . . .”

Her voice faded away.

“This.” She was back and handed a single sheet of paper to Jenny, then warned her to hold it by the edges. “Fingerprints,” she warned. “It’s odd. I mean, at first I took it for a blackmail letter, but how can that be? You’ve seen Aaron’s house. Your mom said the two of them, both the brothers, built it years ago, back
when they were still friends. Barely more than a shack. Do you think he was someone you’d try to get money from? And if you did, what would you get?”

Jenny shrugged and looked at the letter she held. A plain sheet of computer paper, smudged at the fold across the middle. A short message was set precisely at the center of the page. There was no salutation or date on it. The letter was typed but unsigned. It began,

She looked up from the paper. “‘
Three
of you’? Who are the three? And what does ‘it’ mean?
Or
‘him’?”

“And who is that ‘her’ in the letter?”

“How was it delivered, I wonder?” Jenny shook the page, thinking about the hands that might have touched it.

“No envelope. Not folded the way a letter would be. Had to have left it in the mailbox, I suppose,” Zoe said.

Jenny read the letter again then handed it, by its corners, back to Zoe. “What’s it all about?”

Zoe shrugged. “Where does the family money come from?”

“I think it was shipping.” Jenny went back to conversations she’d overheard as a child. “Freighters. Ore carriers on the Great Lakes. Then lumber, maybe.”

Zoe was quiet for a tick. “There’s probably only one person who knows the truth about any of this.”

“Abigail.” Jenny nodded. “But I don’t see her sitting down with you, or me, for a heart-to-heart about the family business any time soon.”

They sat in silence, both thinking hard.

“Why didn’t this person call them instead of putting it in writing? Seems dumb,” Jenny said.

“You see a phone in either house?”

“Okay. So what’s this ‘thing’ he’s talking about?”

“Who knows? But it’s sure about money. What I don’t get is, the only one in that family with money is Abigail. Why didn’t the man—or woman, I suppose—go after
her
?” Zoe paused, clearly working through these riddles. “Maybe he did and she ignored him, too. So Abigail’s the only one left on this man’s list.”

“That lets Abigail out as the murderer. She must have been threatened just the way her brothers were.”

“Look at that other letter.” Zoe motioned toward a paper laying in Jenny’s lap. “It’s a letter from an attorney. Justin Princely. He’s in Traverse City.”

“Who’s it to?” Jenny took the letter and read it for herself. “Aaron Cane?” She looked up at Zoe, confused.

“Aaron must have written him asking for an appointment. That’s what the letter says. Says he had an appointment on June ninth at four o’clock.” Jenny screwed up her face. “Doesn’t sound like this Justin Princely was Aaron’s regular attorney. They don’t seem to know each other.”

She read the letter over again. “Nothing here to say what Aaron wanted to see him about. You’ve got to get all of these to Ed Warner as fast as you can.”

“Not possible.” She shook her head as she slipped the papers into a cabinet drawer. She turned back to Jenny. “I was starting to think maybe Abigail was giving Aaron money but none to Adam. Or the other way around. That could’ve caused the trouble between them. But neither way fits. If it hadn’t been for Fida being stolen, I’d have thought maybe Adam killed Aaron. But that can’t be. If Fida was in that house with him, Aaron had to have died after Adam. Or . . .” She clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Maybe Aaron killed his brother and took Fida because she’s so cute.”

“Come on, Zoe. You’re driving yourself crazy.”

“I am. I am. I truly am.” She twirled her finger in one of her curls. “Seems to me we have to find out what the letter writer was after. That’s at the heart of everything. Oh my! If this keeps on, the next thing you know, it will be Fida charged with murder because she was the only one out there.”

Zoe sighed, dropping deeper into confusion. “I’m sinking into a murky mind. You know what happens in a murky mind? You can’t see anything clearly. Flotsam and jetsam. It all floats by, but there’s no use putting your hand out because it will just fade away.”

“I’m calling Tony.” Jenny eyed Zoe as she pulled out her cell. “We’re getting in way over our heads. Maybe you can’t see beyond the shipwreck, but I’m not going down with you.”

When they heard footsteps on the porch, they thought it must be Christopher Morley. Zoe hurried to the door with Jenny close behind. Chief Warner stood there, nervous head tipped forward, stiff hat in his hands, his long face more ashamed then official.

“’Day.” He looked around Zoe to where Jenny stood. “Jenny.” He nodded. Back to Zoe. “I’ve come to take you into the station with me, Ms. Zola. We’ve got more questions.”

“I don’t have any more answers.” Zoe stood flat on the ground, her fisted hands at her hips. She leaned way back to look up into the man’s eyes.

Ed cleared his throat. “What I’ve got here—” He pulled a paper from a folder and waved it at her. “—is a search warrant for your house and property. Judge in Traverse City signed it last night. Gives me the right to have a crew search your house, Ms. Zola. Same time, I’d like you to come into the station with me. We’ll just be talking. Unless there’s something in there—” He nodded to the interior of her house. “—that’ll incriminate you and you want to tell me now.”

Zoe’s face froze in horror.

“Ed!” Jenny couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Wish I were. I’d like to get going, Ms. Zola.”

“I’m busy right—”

He lifted his hand to stop her. “Not my problem.”

“My editor will be here . . . soon. He’s from New York. Remember, you told me not to leave town?
He’s coming
.” Her voice took on a waiflike plaint.

Again Ed shook his head. “Just get whatever you’re going to need or we’ll provide it for you.”

“Need for what? I don’t understand.”

“You might be lodged in our jail a day or so. I can hold you for forty-eight hours. After that, we’ll see.” He turned and looked far off.

“This is crazy,” Jenny said. “You must be kidding, right?”

“Not kidding about anything. Ms. Zola could very well have somebody working with her. In Adam’s case, there was a tripwire. Perfect thing to bring him down and then hit him in the head with that hoe. Don’t have to be tall for that. And as for Aaron—anybody can hold a gun and shoot a man in the chest. Maybe took the dog out there to ask him to watch her a while. Any excuse to get inside his house. When she left in a hurry, the dog got trapped. These are serious charges. She could be with us a while.”

“What’s ‘a while’?” Jenny demanded.

He shrugged. “Not my place to give out information. What I’d say is, get her an attorney.”

“You’re damned right she’ll have an attorney.” Jenny looked down at Zoe’s stricken face. “Don’t worry. I’ll call somebody right away. We’ll get you out . . .”

“Go get Lisa. She always knows what to do,” Zoe begged, giving Jenny the slightest of jealous twinges.

“And Fida!” The little dog ran from behind a chair at the sound of her name. “Oh no. Can you watch Fida?”

“Course. I’ll keep her until . . .”

“Her food’s under the sink. Oh, and don’t forget her pills.” She pointed to the drawer of a nearby cabinet, smiling at Jenny. “They’re in that drawer. Remember?” She lifted her eyebrows.

“Can Jenny take those things?” She turned to the chief.

He frowned but nodded. Zoe handed the dog over and gave Jenny a hard, telling look she didn’t understand at first. “And be on the lookout for my editor. He should be here around noon. Explain . . .” She checked herself. “Tell him whatever you want to.”

Zoe turned to look up at Ed Warner. “You didn’t read me my rights,” she warned him.

“Don’t need to, Ms. Zola.” He put his head down, as if this was a thing he was far from proud for doing. “I’m not arresting you.”

Zoe waved a hand at him. “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way. Still, no matter what, I’m choosing silence.”

Jenny stood in the tall grass between the pines, quietly holding the shivering Fida in her arms. An outsized bag of dog food sat at her feet. Aaron’s papers, from the table drawer, were shoved up under her T-shirt. She’d accomplished everything Zoe had expected of her and now waited to see what would happen next.

Poor Fida shook in spasms. She needed Zoe. She needed a bath. When Jenny set her down, she whimpered and turned that sad, one-eyed face up to her. All Jenny could do right then was put a finger to her lips to shush her.

When a police patrol car and a white van drove slowly down Elderberry and parked in front of Zoe’s house, Jenny pulled back among the trees. One of the deputies she’d seen at Aaron’s house got out of the car; took a swipe at his pants, straightening the crease; and then leaned back into his patrol car to retrieve a folder. He strode up to Zoe’s front door, where he opened the folder, pulled out a key, stuck it in the lock, and turned to wait for the three officers in the van to join him.

Tony’s pickup came around the corner a few minutes later. He was parking behind the deputy’s patrol car when Jenny hurried out of the trees—dog in her arms and bag of dog food
pulled along behind her—to stop him. She waved him to back up and park in front of her mother’s house instead.

Tony parked and got out. He eyed the police car and van and then went to the back of the truck to unload the cedar posts and a bag of cement. He pulled a post-hole digger out and laid it in the grass.

She watched him work. His dark hair was wind-blown, the limp no more than an interesting quirk that made him braver, more worldly—at least more worldly than most men in the tiny world of Bear Falls. And just the kind of friend a woman needed at times like these, she decided. A man dressed for hard work in ripped jeans and a paint-stained T-shirt.

He walked over to her. “What’s going on?” He nodded toward the police cars.

“Ed took Zoe down to the police station. Those men are searching her house.”

Tony made a face and scratched behind one ear. “What a mess.”

“What can we do?” she said, feeling the tears in her voice. “Her publisher’s arriving from New York today. I’ve got to watch for him. And there’s Fida to take care of.” She patted the quivering dog she held.

“They going to find anything?”

She shook her head. “There were papers, but I got those before the police came.”

“What kind of papers?”

“Papers Zoe found the other day in Aaron’s house.”

“When I told you two to stay out of there?” His face bloomed red.

She shrugged. “We didn’t know what the papers were until this morning. At least, I didn’t.”

“So? What are they?” He laid his hand on Jenny’s back and directed her toward her mother’s porch, out of earshot and eyeshot of the searching officers next door. He lowered his head close to hers to catch what she was telling him. She’d forgotten how good it felt to have a man’s concern centered on her.

“There was a letter. It looks as if the writer wanted something Aaron and Adam had. And then there’s a letter from an attorney addressed to Aaron setting up an appointment for June ninth. Oh, and there was a bank statement with what looks like a very small savings account.”

“Who are the letters from?”

“No signature, except for the attorney’s letter.”

“What’d they say?”

“I’ve got them.” She gestured to her University of Michigan T-shirt under Fida. “I took them just now before the police got here.”

Tony rubbed his forehead hard. “And got yourself in this up to your ears.”

Jenny didn’t feel a bit sorry for what she’d done. She felt resolute, certain that she was on the side of justice.

“Let’s go inside,” he nodded toward Dora’s house. “I’ll take a look at what you’ve got, then we can decide what to do next. You can’t be hiding evidence, Jenny.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I want them to go to Ed—eventually. I see this as proof that Zoe’s not the killer.”

“Unless she’s the one who sent the letter.” He took the steps two at a time. “First thing, you’ve got to find her an attorney. Lisa seems like a detail person. Let’s get her moving on that.”

For a swift second, Jenny let herself feel put out at the faith everybody had in Lisa the Good while all she seemed to do was screw up.

***

Inside, Dora waited for them. “I saw men go into Zoe’s. Is everything okay over there? And why do you have the dog? What have they done to Zoe?”

“Ed took her to the station,” Jenny said and handed the quivering lump of fur to Dora. “This one needs a bath.”

Dora patted the little dog’s back. “My poor friend.” She nuzzled Fida.

***

With everyone sitting around the table, filled coffee mugs in front of each, Jenny laid out what happened.

Lisa slowly shredded a napkin as she listened. Tony studied the blueprints of the dual libraries but listened closely.

“We’ve got to get her an attorney,” Jenny said to Lisa.

“I’ll take care of it. Anybody know of one here in Bear Falls?” Lisa asked, looking at Tony and Dora. “Or how about Traverse City?”

Dora, Fida in her arms, licking her face, thought awhile. “What about that Alfred Rudkers? Abigail’s lawyer? Met him at the funeral home. He seems nice enough to me.”

“Mom!” Jenny couldn’t hide her exasperation. “He’s an awful man. There’s got to be more than one lawyer around.”

“But if he works for Abigail, I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.”

Jenny rolled her eyes.

“I’ll find somebody.” Lisa squinted down at her cell phone and started a search.

“Remember Penelope Farnum? From high school? She was in my grade,” Jenny said. “Penny?”

Lisa shook her head.

“You’d remember if you saw her. We went through elementary school together and right on through high school. Really smart, ready to take on anybody—even back then. But also a real pain in the ass. Straight as a stick, with that much personality. What I do remember, in high school, was how she fought for one girl who wanted to try out for the football team. Didn’t make it onto the team, but Penelope said it was still the morality of the law she was upholding.”

“Okay. So what about her?”

“I heard she’s an attorney. Think she’s practicing here in Michigan. Look her up.”

Lisa went into the dining room to make phone calls. Dora took Fida to the porch to rock her. Tony went out to dig holes, which was actually the reason he’d showed up.

Jenny made a peanut butter sandwich for herself and sat down to eat and think.

When Tony came clumping back into the kitchen, he went directly to the sink to wash up, then turned to Jenny as he methodically dried his hands on paper towels. She noticed his limp was worse today.

“Weather?” she asked, nodding to his leg.

He looked down as if he didn’t know what she meant. “Oh, that. Yeah. Weather can get me. There’s still part of the bullet in there. Couldn’t get it all out without more damage.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“About what?” Tony finished drying his hands. “If you’re sorry I was shot, so am I. If you’re sorry you asked—don’t be.”

She didn’t know why she wanted to keep him talking, maybe just not to be alone.

“Are you in pain?”

He shrugged. “Once in a while. If I work too hard. Or if the weather changes. That bullet turned me into a barometer.”

He grinned, walked to where she sat, and leaned down in front of her.

“Don’t be afraid to ask me anything, Jenny. Nothing you can ask will hurt me more than that bullet did. Or my ex-wife.”

“I didn’t know you had one.”

“You don’t belong to an exclusive club, you know.”

His dark eyes were so deep. It was like looking straight into the man’s head. She had an overwhelming urge to reach out and softly touch his cheek, to run a finger delicately over the faded scar and then over his narrow beard. She wondered if she had a sappy look on her face.

“Got to talk about those letters,” He put a firm hand on her back. The surprise of those warm fingers left her briefly breathless.

Avoiding her eyes, Tony looked down at her peanut butter sandwich. “Glad I ate already,” he said and laughed.

Jenny got up. She knew the way her body worked, how it could betray her. She wasn’t going to be tricked into emotions she didn’t trust. Not again.

She went to the dishtowel drawer where she’d hidden Zoe’s papers.

When he took them from her, he shook his head and warned again, “You’re in this now. Right along with Zoe. Don’t know what in hell the two of you were thinking.”

He read the letters carefully, then went over them once more.

“I’ll give them to Ed, tell him I found them,” she said.

“Where? In the bulrushes?” Tony wasn’t happy. “Typed and unsigned. Ed’ll be sure you and Zoe trumped this up between you. Maybe I should—”

Tony was interrupted by a knock and a deep “Hello there” through the back screen door.

***

Fida came running through the house, woofing and growling. Jenny went to the door to greet a tall and impossibly thin man in a rumpled light-blue summer suit. Middle-aged and slightly stooped, his thinning brown hair stood up at the back of his head as if he’d been blown to the door by a very high wind.

The man pushed wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, stared myopically at Jenny, and set his briefcase down beside him on the porch.

“Christopher Morley.” He stuck out his hand and bowed slightly. “I’m Zoe Zola’s editor.”

Jenny groaned inside as she shook the man’s limp hand. She’d completely forgotten to watch for him.

“I was next door,” he hurried to say, blinking at her. “A man there said Ms. Zola . . . er . . . Zoe is at the police station. Do you people know her? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Jenny drew the fidgeting man into the house, apologizing as she offered him a chair at the table. She asked what she could get him to drink.

“Water. Just a tall glass of water, thank you,” he answered, bowing his head formally. “Flying makes me thirsty. And driving here from the airport, well, I made a turn in Elk Rapids, which was obviously wrong. A few more wrong turns after that and I ended up in a corn field.” He looked worriedly at the watch on his wrist. “Oh my. I’m an hour late getting here.”

“And I forgot to keep an eye out for you. Zoe told me you were coming. I’m so sorry.” She introduced Christopher to Tony, who nodded to the man.

“Whatever has happened?” He glanced around the kitchen as if taking in foreign territory. “I don’t have a lot of time. I have to be back in New York tonight. Is everything okay with Zoe? I’d like to help her. I can make a few phone calls, if needed.”

“It’s all a mistake, Mr. Morley,” Jenny assured him. “Truly a mistake. I don’t imagine she’ll be there long.”

“I’ll wait, of course.” His long face was a moving mass of worry. He pushed gold-framed glasses up his nose, then glanced at his watch again. “For a while. Unless I can’t wait and have to leave. But I hope not. Oh dear, I hope not. I do care about Zoe. She’s a wonderful writer and a wonderful woman. I only hope . . . oh, how I hope. I mean, I can’t stay forever, but—at the police station! What on earth is she doing there? Could it be research? She’s a meticulous researcher, you know.”

His twice-magnified eyes looked from Jenny to Tony. “Do either of you know what’s happened? If I can help . . . of course I want to wait, but I’m not certain. You see, I have my return flight.” He swallowed hard, glanced at his watch again, then back at them. “I do hope it’s research.”

“It shouldn’t be too long,” Tony reassured him. “I think the police chief only wanted to ask her some questions.”

“About what? What could Zoe be involved in that would interest the police? She’s such a dear person. If she needs me to vouch for her character, I’ll be happy to go right over there and . . .”

Dora and Lisa walked through the back door and stopped midconversation when they noticed the stranger. Jenny introduced Christopher, who began quickly with his disbelief that anything could really be wrong with Zoe and his worry about catching his plane on time and his offer to vouch for Zoe’s character. Dora looked over his head to Tony.

Lisa filled his water glass, as Lisa would, then sat beside him, calming him, one hand on his arm.

“I can see you care about Zoe, Mr. Morley,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m really happy she has someone like you in her corner.”

“What corner is that?” he asked, startled.

“I meant on her side,” Lisa tried again.

“Which side would that be? I don’t like the sound of this at all.”

Lisa smiled and gave up.

Dora brought a plate of cookies to the table.

In a very short time, it seemed too maddeningly cordial and ordinary to Jenny. Talk of Zoe was suspended. Dora wanted to know about the writers he published and his life in New York. Through all of it, Christopher glanced again and again at his watch, then leaned back to roll his eyes up to the ceiling.

When conversation waned, Christopher sat straight up in his seat. “Could we call that police station? Find out if she’s on her way home?” He turned to Tony. “They aren’t actually holding her in a cell or anything, are they?” Christopher frightened himself. “I certainly hope not. I certainly do.”

“Why don’t we go down there?” Dora was delighted with her idea. “She will be so happy to see you. It’s too bad all of this nasty stuff had to happen.”

“Just what is this ‘nasty stuff’ you all talk about without actually saying? Did she jaywalk? We get a lot of that in New York, but of course no one pays any attention. I can see how a small-town sheriff might take umbrage at jaywalking, though. Crime seems to be relative. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, no, it isn’t jaywalking.” Dora smiled to calm him. “There have been a couple of murders here in town.”

“Surely they don’t think my good friend had anything to do with murder!”

Jenny slid down in her chair. With her hands covering her face, all she thought was,
We’re all mad
.
Barking mad, the whole lot of us
.