Book Fair and Foul (Ashton Corners Book Club) (9 page)

When nothing is as it seems, then what? Take another look from another angle. Stand on your head if you have to.

DEATH AL DENTE
—LESLIE BUDEWITZ

A
fter glancing at the clock radio by her bed for about the fifth time, finding she’d been in bed for only one hour, Lizzie sat up and turned on the lamp. She looked at her short version of a TBR pile and chose the third one down. She’d always found Krista Davis’s Domestic Diva series to be soothing, even with the liberal dose of murder and sleuthing. After an hour she decided to try for some sleep. This time she dozed on and off, her mind playing with the murder, her past dealings with Ashley and the fact that Mark hadn’t even called to say good night.

She dragged herself out of bed, knowing the best thing in the world for her at this moment was a run. She changed into shorts and a tee, then fell forward on the bed for a final snuggle with Brie and Edam, both still luxuriating in a few more minutes of relaxation.

“Sorry if I kept you both awake,” she said, stroking two backs and desperately wanting to close her eyes. That would not be good.

She pushed herself off the bed and by the time she’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Edam sat at his cat dish, awaiting breakfast. She spooned out the canned food, rattled some dry kernels into the other side of the divided dishes and replenished the water. Brie obviously preferred some more beauty sleep to being fed.

Lizzie took her favorite route: the one along the river, through Glendale Park and back through town, hoping the scenery would lift her mood. The reality of Ashley’s death had sunk in somewhere in the overnight hours. Here was someone with whom she’d shared the rituals of sleeping, studying, getting ready for dates, all the minutia of college life for several months. Sure, she’d ended up really disliking Ashley, or maybe that was partly mixed with a dollop of envy. Ashley got what, and whoever, she wanted. But at the beginning they’d been friends, and now she was dead.

Lizzie was so deep in thought it took until she turned into her driveway to realize Mark’s Jeep was parked there. She took a deep breath before opening the back door.

He sat at the table, in uniform, a mug of coffee in his hand, an equally haggard look on his face. Lizzie closed the door behind her and stood for a moment, suddenly a bit unclear about what to do.

Mark rose quickly and pulled her into his arms. “I know this is awfully hard on you,” he whispered, “but I want you to know I believe in you.”

Lizzie pulled back. “Thanks, Mark. I needed to hear you say that. It’s just that your actions say something entirely different.”

Mark led her over to the table and sat her down across from him. “Listen to me, Lizzie. I know you’re not capable of murder and we’re busy interviewing the authors but it’s a slow process. It’s also all circumstantial evidence leading to you, although your cell at the scene is the most damning piece, but we’ve got to treat it all seriously and follow through.”

He ran his hand across the stubble on his right cheek. Lizzie could see how tired he looked. Either he hadn’t had time to shave or he hadn’t been home, changing into the spare uniform he kept at the office.

“The entire town knows about our relationship,” he continued. “That’s why I’m stepping back from any bits that have to do with you. If it takes a while to sort things through and find the murderer, I don’t want it said that I bent the rules for you or anything like that. Think of what it would do to your reputation if there were any hint that I covered up something. The murderer needs to be found, which is what I’m concentrating on, and your name needs to be cleared, which is what Officer Craig is trying to do.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows shot up.

Mark nodded. “Believe me, she doesn’t think you’re a murderer, either, and while following through on the questioning, is looking for ways your answers clear you.”

Lizzie relaxed a little. “That’s good to know. Does this mean you’ll be keeping your distance? I know you’re here now, but it’s early in the morning.”

“I’m not abandoning you, Lizzie.”

Lizzie let out the breath she’d been holding. She got up and poured herself a glass of water. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

Mark leaned back in his chair. “Only if you’ll make me some more coffee.”

Lizzie smiled. For a few minutes anyway, things felt back to normal. She glanced at the clock. Just enough time to make another brew and she needed some answers. She put another disc in the single-cup coffeemaker and ground some espresso for herself. When they both had coffee in hand, she asked, “Do you have a time of death?”

“Probably after midnight, in the early hours of the morning.”

Lizzie shuddered. “So she was already dead while I was waiting for her at the coffee shop.”

Mark nodded. “That’s why, although we’re checking to see if you were seen waiting, it isn’t going to do a lot of good. You could, arguably, have stopped in to wait even though you knew she was dead, hoping to show you didn’t know she was already dead.”

Lizzie opened her mouth to argue. Mark held up his hand. “I said ‘arguably.’”

Lizzie grimaced. “You are trying to cover all the bases.”

Mark sighed. “Lizzie, I’m thinking about this from every angle. I don’t want to be blindsided by anything later on.”

“I can’t begin to imagine how my cell phone ended up there.” As she said the words, the panic she’d been trying to squelch inside started pushing upward.

Mark shook his head. “I don’t get it, either, unless someone was trying to frame you. Can you pin down exactly when you last used it?”

“I got a text message from George Havers saying the
Colonist
reporter would be arriving a bit late. That was probably around nine forty-five
A.M.
on Saturday, just before the doors to the book fair opened. Then, I can’t remember if I stuck it in my handbag or just what? I’m pretty sure I didn’t use it after that.”

“We’ve checked it out and that jibes with its use. Wherever it was after you sent the reply to Havers, it wasn’t used.”

“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to frame me, though. Are there any fingerprints on the phone?”

“We’re checking that out. When we find the murderer, we’ll have our answer to who put it there.” He paused a moment. “Can you think of anyone who might try to frame you?”

“Amber Craig asked me the same thing and I can’t think of anyone.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. I can’t imagine who’d want to do that, either.” He gently rubbed her arm. “Don’t get too overwrought about it, but if someone comes to mind, call me right away.”

Lizzie nodded. “Any idea when I can get my cell back?”

Mark shrugged. “Not in the immediate future, I’m afraid.”

“Okay. Andie said I should get another one. An iPhone was her suggestion. Guess I’ll give it a try. Another question. How was she killed?”

“By a blow to the back of her head. She died from massive internal bleeding around the brain. The object used must have been quite heavy.”

“Yikes. That sounds premeditated, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely, since she was hit from behind. Or else she fell but we haven’t found any evidence of that as yet. And, somebody did put her body in the coffin.”

“Wow . . . that’s an awful lot of unknowns.” She was back to dejected. “How was her body discovered if it was in that coffin?”

“One of the hinges needed repairing for some time now apparently, and it worked loose. The cover slid partially off and an arm had fallen out.”

Lizzie made a gagging sound and took a quick sip of water.

Mark squeezed her hand. His expression made her even more anxious. “I’ve had some experience lately with solving murders, if you’ll recall. I don’t intend to let this one get away from me.”

Lizzie tried to smile. “I know,” she said softly. “What about the authors?”

“None of them has a solid alibi except for possibly Margaret Farrow, or Caroline Cummings as she wants to be called. She took a sleeping pill and her husband verifies that she was out for the count. Of course, he could be saying that to give himself an alibi.”

“But he’s not really connected to this. He’s not even an author.”

Mark gave her a pained look. “We are checking out everyone, Lizzie. That should be a relief to you.”

She nodded in agreement.

“They’ve been requested to stay put until we can determine, without a doubt, that none of them had any involvement in this. I was happy to hear they were all planning on staying until today anyway, and after a bit of grumbling, they’ve agreed to a few more days. But I can’t officially hold them in town unless I have something to go on.” He paused. “It would help if you and Molly could come up with some event or something to distract them. That way, they won’t get too antsy about sticking around, and maybe they’ll be in a bit more cooperative mood when I question them again.”

“That’s a good idea. I’m sure we can put together some signings and things.”

“Good. I’m also following up on what you mentioned, that Ashley Dixon planned to spend time in town. I want to know why and if she knew anyone.”

Lizzie visibly relaxed. “I do trust you, Mark. I know you’ll solve this, and in the meantime, I’m going to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

Mark stood and pulled Lizzie up at the same time. He kissed her and held her a few extra moments.

“It will turn out okay. I promise.”

That was two promises she had. Lizzie intended to hold Mark to it as well.

I felt the room give a lurch as my reality had its feet kicked out from under it.

CLOCHE AND DAGGER
—JENN MCKINLAY

A
police cruiser sat parked in the circular drive in front of the Ashton Corners Elementary School when Lizzie arrived at work the next day. As she passed the principal’s office, the secretary called out to her.

“Lizzie, Mr. Benton wants to see you.” She grimaced and inclined her head toward his office. “He’s waiting.”

Uh-oh. The new principal was not a favorite with any of the staff. Although an efficient administrator, he lacked the people skills so necessary in a small community. Rumor had it, he’d moved to Ashton Corners in the late spring from Birmingham. Speculation as to why he’d undergone such a drastic change of location ran rampant. The consensus held that there must be hidden secrets or else this was penance. Neither a good option. Lizzie had heard that he’d chosen Ashton Corners because of cousins or something in the area. That sounded much more realistic.

Lizzie knocked on his door, wondering what he wanted. So far their only contact had been a brief “get to know you” meeting at the beginning of the term. She waited for him to call out and then entered. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Benton?”

“I do. I’ll get right to the point. I understand the police are here interviewing various teachers about your habits.”

“My habits?”

“Yes. You’re a suspect in a murder case and they’re checking your movements, if I have that correct. I want you to know that this is very disturbing to me and to the school board. I’ve been in touch with the superintendent.” He shuffled through some papers on his desk while Lizzie stood in shocked silence.

He eventually placed the papers on a pile to the side and folded his hands on the desktop. “It’s disturbing the routine and upsetting the children to see the police in the school.”

Lizzie couldn’t stand it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Benton, if you find it disturbing but they are here before school hours and the children have seen the police often and, for the most part, are very comfortable around them.”
Unless their parents are criminals.

Benton looked surprised. Lizzie wondered if he was unused to being challenged.

“Yes, well the fact that a staff member is a suspect in a murder investigation won’t sit well with the board. Parents will also object. I want to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand. I have enough on my plate to deal with without this.”

Lizzie braced herself for what was to come.

“I’d like you to take a leave of absence until this matter is cleared up.”

She hadn’t expected this. She couldn’t believe it. “But I have appointments lined up with parents, and sessions with students already scheduled.”

“You are not the only person in the entire school district who is capable of doing your job, Ms. Turner. Now, you will remain on the payroll. I will make an announcement at a staff meeting at noon. If and when this is all cleared up, get in touch, and we’ll see about getting things back to normal.” His tone was dismissive.

Lizzie could not think of anything to say. Her hand was on the doorknob when Benton spoke again. “Good luck, Ms. Turner.”

*   *   *

L
izzie sat at the banquette in Molly’s kitchen and went through the story while Molly sat slack-jawed in surprise. When Lizzie had finished her account, Molly sputtered, “Why, I cannot believe that man. That makes no sense at all. Why, I’m going to get on the phone to the school board chairperson right this minute.”

Lizzie put out a hand to restrain her. “No, Molly. Please don’t. That won’t do any good and will just draw more attention to the matter. He is new to the school and the community and doesn’t know me. I guess he’s just being overprotective. Who knows what he’s had to deal with in the past?”

“He’s being biggity if you ask me. And, you’re being way too understanding, honey. It just makes me mad as a wet hen.”

Lizzie chuckled. “Me, too. But at least it allows me time to do some sleuthing.” She tried to sound perkier than she felt. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she might need a lawyer real soon and that would cost big bucks, not readily available on a school employee’s salary.

“That’s right.” Molly visibly brightened. “In fact, why don’t we just head on over to the Quilt Patch right now. We’re bound to catch some authors at breakfast and I’ve always believed that mealtime is a good time to get people talking. Their guards are down then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lizzie said, standing and clearing their coffee cups off the table. “By the way, Mark asked me if we could set up some signings to help keep the authors occupied over the next few days.”

Molly chuckled. “I’ll bet he wants us to butter them up for him so they’ll spill all. Well, let’s get to it as soon as we get back.”

“Great.”

The phone rang and after a few comments, Molly handed the receiver to Lizzie.

“Lizzie, it’s Mark. I thought you might be at Molly’s when you didn’t answer at home. Amber Craig just told me what happened at the school. She was totally outraged and so am I.”

Lizzie sighed. “I’m not too happy about it, either.”

“I’m really sorry, babe. I had no idea my sending Craig over there would lead to this.” He sounded so sincere, Lizzie almost burst into tears.

“It’s not your fault, Mark. You have a job to do and, I guess, so does he. At least I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. For now.”

There was a moment of silence. “What are you planning for the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to hang out with Molly for a while, then I’ve got a lunch date with Paige and I’ll run some errands after that.”

“I hope by ‘hanging out’ you don’t mean you’ll start doing some investigating about this case.” He sounded stern.

“I’m just going to do some things that will help take my mind off all this.”

“Good. I’ve gotta go but I’ll call you later.”

He rang off and Lizzie faced Molly’s questioning expression.

“Well, I am. If we can figure out who the murderer is, I won’t have to dwell on it and be depressed.”

“That’s my girl.”