Organized for Murder (27 page)

"This thing at Saree's tonight could do great things for your business," Meg said, as if reading Kate's mind.

"I just wish it were some other night. With Keith out of town, Tiffany is babysitting the girls."

"Well, at least there's no risk of any more surreptitious gifts appearing this time." Meg slowed as they approached a narrow, uncovered bridge.

"How do you figure?"

"You heard what Ursula said." Meg flashed a surprised look. "With Sophia dead, the theft problem is gone. Obviously, she was the one trying to pin everything on you."

"Hmm. You think she killed Amelia to cover her thefts?"

"I know you figured a whole 'why she didn't do it' scenario earlier, but the thief was a woman with a cultured voice. Plus, the death mask was at her murder and points toward her being the thief. She could have realized she would be caught and killed herself, sending you the text message to attempt one last try at framing you, using the mask to make things even more complicated."

"Not unless she was able to fatally stab herself, yet wipe her fingerprints off the knife before she died, and pose her body on the sofa after her own death. With those facts proven by the crime scene and forensics pros, it's highly likely the mask was placed after death."

"Posed after her death?"

Kate nodded. "The CSI guy told Johnson during my interrogation. The body was moved after death, and the mask had to be positioned after death as well. While the possibility exists that Sophia could have been the thief, I'm convinced the murderer brought it in, planning to use the mask as another attempt to implicate me in murder. The only thing that saved me was Valerie running hard at my heels."

After chewing on her lower lip, Meg suggested, "What about Sophia as the thief and an unknown someone else the murderer of both women? The murderer spotted the mask in Sophia's house and put it on the dead body as a sick gag—murder victim and a death mask."

"Entirely possible, but we can't prove motive or opportunity, and until we do it's going to be difficult figuring out who the murderer is. Motives for Amelia's death could have been the will or her bossiness." Kate fished the casebook out of her purse. "Sophia was no sweetheart, but we don't have any idea how her life affected anyone else's. She and Bill had their fights, Danny avoided her, and every time we've seen Sophia and Thomas together they seemed unperturbed by each other. While notable in its lack of competitive atmosphere, hers and Thomas's non-hostile relationship doesn't give us any motive toward her murder. As far as money goes, she's married. Any money in her estate would likely go to her husband."

She flipped pages in the notebook, checking facts and ideas. After a few minutes, she closed it with a snap. "Nothing here to suggest any new direction, and nothing neatly connects. Something is missing. The person trying to make me look guilty may be the thief or the murderer, but…"

"What are you thinking?"

Kate gave a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm seeing conspiracy where there isn't any. You know, working through the puzzle again and again makes me put pieces together whether they fit or not. But the silly thinking does make a kind of picture appear."

"Quit apologizing, and tell me what you're trying not to say."

"Probably the craziest thing you've ever heard."

"Try me."

Taking a deep breath, she said, "What if the woman on the phone with the cultured voice was Valerie?"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Staying Organized in the Car

1) Use over-the-seat organizers on front seatbacks. Besides providing invaluable storage space for kids' stuff like iPods and books, the roomy pockets hold maps, umbrellas, and snacks for lengthy road trips—or just long errand days.

2) Keep food coupons in an envelope in the glove compartment. This way, they aren't sitting at home when you're at the restaurant.

3) Check flashlight batteries periodically to make sure you'll not be "in the dark" if you need light "on the road." In cooler months, keep an extra pack of batteries in the glove box—they'll stay fresh in low temps—but take them out during hot weather.

*

"Valerie? You're kidding, right?" Meg cried, almost running off the road in her surprise. She pulled onto the soft shoulder, in front of a white farmhouse advertising eggs for sale, and stared at Kate, incredulous.

"I don't have any specific idea to suggest, but Sophia never flipped all the right switches when I've deliberated over who planted the stolen items in my house and vehicle."

"Still, do you actually believe Valerie—"

"I don't know." Kate repeated, shaking her head as she tried to piece together her thoughts. "I must have gotten the idea from somewhere, but I can't figure out what makes me think it's a possibility. Regardless, I don't believe Sophia was the thief. I realize Ursula said the thief had a cultured voice, but really, most anyone can fake one for a telephone call. However, Valerie could have come by my house and planted the box that night, with Tiffany not even thinking about telling me her mom stopped by. The twins wouldn't see Valerie as a stranger, and I still need to talk to Louie—"

"Or Tiffany hid the box at her mom's request." Meg tapped the steering wheel with her index fingers and stared out the windshield. "As crazy as the idea sounded at first, it makes a scary kind of sense. No one could be more eager to be involved in this inventorying enterprise. We always assumed Sophia recruited her, but what if it actually happened the other way around? Remember, too, how she insisted on riding with us to Sophia's. What if she killed Sophia earlier, sent herself the text from Sophia's phone, and came back to work to establish an alibi for when the body was found? I didn't hear a ping, did you? Who's to say the message wasn't already on her phone, and she just waited for the perfect opportunity to 'discover' the summons?"

"Yes, and we only have Valerie's word she'd never been in the Nethercutt mansion before going to work with us," Kate mused. "She was livid that I got the organizing job. But could she really be the thief? Let Amelia spot the stuff in the antique shop so quickly?"

"Maybe she got sloppy right away and put the stuff in a resale place too close to Hazelton. After all, Ursula told us she'd just been contacted by 'Ms. Wilson' last week, and the merchandise arrived yesterday. Or maybe Amelia decided to go a bit farther afield to find new things to buy. If the Nethercutts traveled the world for the junk they bought, surely Amelia had hit all the antique shops in southwestern Vermont. It's all speculation until we discover which shop she stumbled into that was selling her stuff," Meg said, shrugging. "As far as getting into the mansion, we don't know how long our favorite decorator worked at Sophia's place. Who's to say she didn't tag along on trips to step-mummy's house?"

Kate thought back to the day of Amelia's murder. She had always assumed Sophia arrived alone and remembered driving around the silver-blue BMW convertible to circle out of the mansion's cobblestone driveway. The Beemer two-seater had been empty of any passenger, Kate was sure, and said so. "Not the day Amelia died. Even if Valerie ducked down in the car to hide as I drove by, I would have seen her."

"But she would have been able to slip into the mansion after Sophia did, right?" Meg prompted. "Didn't you say you went to the kitchen almost as soon as Sophia arrived? Valerie could have entered while you were out of sight."

"Yes…"

"Amelia had no butler or maid to keep an eye on the front door. Our Miss James could walk in without ringing the doorbell, and you would have never known she was in the house." Meg's eyes gleamed as she stacked damning possibility onto damning possibility.

"Why would Sophia not mention Valerie was with her? Johnson would have made sure to interview her with everyone else."

"Maybe Sophia did tell him. Or maybe Johnson skipped talking to Val."

Kate shook her head. She clearly remembered the day they discovered the mask's disappearance from the conservatory wall, then shivered when her thoughts shifted to where it had turned up yesterday. "No, the first time they met was the day Jefferson reported the mask stolen. The look on Johnson's face said she was just a new person to interview and an unrecognizable one to boot. Forget I said anything. The police checked our phones. If she killed Sophia and tried to manufacture an alibi, Johnson could prove she received the call long before joining us."

"But it was such a good scenario—"

"Nope." Kate waved the idea away like the perfume sample cloud that always hovered in mall department stores. "My imagination was getting the better of me."

"All our best laid plans." Meg sighed, then brightened. "Hey, the cameras. We'll get Meeks to let us scan the tapes."

"I thought everything went to digital files."

"Whatever." Meg turned the ignition. "I'll call Meeks when we get home." She tapped the car's clock. Two-eighteen. "We'd better make tracks if we're going to make it to Hazelton in time to pick up our little darlings at school. Are you all set for tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem. Tiffany's coming at six-thirty, so—"

"Tiffany!"

Kate looked at Meg. "Well, yeah. Since you and Jane are going to be at the store to give me moral support, I called Tiffany and asked her to babysit."

"Do you think that's a good idea? I mean even if the Valerie angle is nothing more than creative brainstorming, we can't overlook a possibility—"

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Kate laughed. "Talking it out made me see how ridiculous the suggestion is. I'm forcing things to fit, nothing more. Valerie not only had to be at Amelia's on the day of the murder, but she'd also have to avoid Danny, his dad and uncle, and Mrs. Baxter—Oh, why didn't I think of it before?"

In duet, they cried, "Mrs. Baxter's the thief!"

"She had to be." Meg's curls danced as she nodded. "She was on the spot and had ample opportunity to steal the items. Besides, from what you told me she said during your visit, the woman vacillated between some strange friend/enemy, sympathetic/jealousy mood swings on an almost constant basis."

"A definite possibility. Twist the right emotion, and she probably decided Amelia had enjoyed the good life long enough, and she was sick of accepting the leftovers."

"Or she found out Amelia knew about the thefts and killed to save her job. No, that won't work. Valerie said Sophia fired Mrs. Baxter, and the cook went to live with her brother."

"What?"

As she signaled to turn left, Meg grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. You're going to fire me as your investigative partner, huh? Valerie told me yesterday morning before her temper tantrum. You were getting a glass of water."

"So where did Mrs. Baxter go?" Kate asked.

Meg shrugged. "That's what I asked Valerie, but she wasn't sure. Said Mrs. B. didn't have any relatives around here anymore, and headed out of state to a brother in Texas or Wyoming. Some place cowboy-ie anyway. Apparently, she had a hissy at Sophia about having to leave, too. Valerie said Mrs. B. told Sophia she 'expected better out of Mr. Daniel's daughter' and 'Miss Amelia will spin in her grave at your turning me out into the cold.'"

Too much to process.
A stress headache was coming on, something Kate didn't need before speaking to a crowd she hoped would become customers. She rummaged in her purse for the small aspirin bottle.

Three of their kids stood together on the sidewalk around the school's circle drive.

"Where's Mark?" Kate asked.

"Little League," Meg replied. "That's why I didn't take us on home to get your van. With one less kid, the car has enough seatbelts for everyone."

Meg couldn't stand the game of baseball—"Un-American, I know," she'd told Kate a month ago—so it was up to Gil Berman to support his eldest son and provide transport home after practice and games.

"It's great the paper gives Gil the flexibility to carve out the hours he needs to do this with Mark," Kate said.

"Uh-huh," Meg agreed. "And Mark really likes having time when his dad is devoted to him, alone. At the house, it's always the three of them playing catch or working on the boys' batting. On practice and game days, though, Mark has his dad's attention completely focused on him. We aren't dealing with as many stubborn fits anymore, and his grades have even improved. I wish we'd thought of this long ago."

"I guess the boys are pretty competitive," Kate reflected. "I've noticed tension growing between the girls, too. Maybe Keith and I need to do some talking and come up with some ideas. We try to give each of them full latitude in creating their own identities, but with both twins on the same teams and going to all the same events, maybe their fighting is actually related to wanting their own space and more individual time with each of us."

As she said this Jeremy Hendricks walked by and said something Sam responded to with a smile and nod. A second later, Suze slammed a schoolbook across the back of her sister's head and Sam responded with a punch in the shoulder. A teacher separated the pair by the time Kate managed to jump from the car and get to them. Obviously, Suze's crush on Jeremy Hendricks remained in full force.

*

Tiffany arrived late for babysitting. Her mother hadn't been home, and the teen had to walk the few blocks. She wasn't as effervescent as usual, and Kate wondered what the personality switch signaled. One last round of orders to the twins and a reminder to do everything Tiffany said, then Kate ran over to get Meg. Gil was in the kitchen helping the boys finish off leftovers.

"Did you call Meeks? Can we take a look at the pictures?" Kate asked.

Meg shook her head. They stepped back into the cooler evening temperatures, and Kate was glad she wore a wool blazer. She put her hands in the pockets.

"The police already confiscated all his equipment related to the mansion. He did remember seeing, as he put it, 'a stout little lady puttering around the place that first night,' and is going to figure a way to make the police aware of our suspicions. Unless Valerie saw the box while we inventoried the parlor."